#i want to be held and comforted in a way that doesn't exist

[animentality]

I've always harboured a mild dislike for x reader stuff. I never really held it against people because I don't have the time to antagonise them, but it was so upsetting when every time I opened the fandom tag and all I saw were posts and posts and posts of bland x reader stuff that clearly is ooc with no real substance to them at all. So many of the RP blogs seem the same way.

As someone who tries to make analysis posts and art for the same fandom, it is disheartening when I spend hours and hours on an analysis post about a character and it maybe hits 120 notes while an OOC x reader of the same character soars to the thousands. Maybe it's selfish of me to say but I say it anyway.

The fandom is full of youngsters and I never felt comfortable voicing my opinion for the same because it just felt wrong to tell kids to stop existing in communities. But the amount of times I've been put down for shipping characters with each other rather than myself is an honestly surprising number.

Um. I don't really know where I was going with this.

But your post definitely opened my eyes a little bit on even why I dislike x reader so much. It's sinking in a little bit. My hatred for OOC stuff seeps into this, I suppose. So I wanted to say that. Yeah. I agree with you.

Thank you for saying it.

Signed,

A fellow analyser / artist / fanfic writer lmao

— @lunarcloak

I get you, man.

I know self shippers have always existed.

I don't mind them. If that's how you enjoy the media, then fine.

However.

I just don't think that the sudden rise of self shippers over fan analysis and shipping is a good sign.

I think it comes from a lack of media literacy and willingness to actually engage with a piece of fiction. At least shippers and fan analysts actually talk about the world and plot itself.

self shippers imagine themselves dating a character in an au that is completely disconnected from the story, and acting in a way that's not even close to how they are in canon.

which to me is like... you have a creative writing prompt but it's not a story you're actually engaging with. someone showed you a picture of a handsome man and said write a story about how he'd kiss you.

and it's like... ok. there's no crime in just being horny, but... when that's all a fandom is... I don't consider it a fandom, it's just a masturbation fantasy.

I thought the whole point of fiction was to dive into the human experience and try and understand ourselves better. See the perspectives of others. Live vicariously in another person's shoes.

Fan analysis about themes? Perfect. You're thinking. You're feeling. You're articulating. You're growing as a person as you decide what you like or don't like, or try to put together puzzle pieces so that the whole picture makes sense. Shipping? You're imagining scenarios. You're bending canon to fit your interests. You are developing your own ability to write characters, and growing as an artist and a writer.

But self shipping...?

Eh.

You're writing, I guess, but when you reduce yourself to just... idk, some generic girl that Gojo decides is the Bella to his Edward... I mean I'm glad you're happy and all.

But how happy are you

Are you happy at all, or are you frustrated by this aching loneliness deep in your gut that you just don't understand, and it never quite feels whole bc you keep cramming nothing into it.

And it's not the loneliness or the social awkwardness that I'm criticizing here ok, shippers and fan analysts can be just as lonely. I just think that the human relationship to art should be confusion and appreciation.

you should be trying to understand others or yourself.

you can insist well what's so wrong with escapism? why does everything have to be an intellectual exercise?

it doesn't have to be ... but there's a reason people feel so hollow watching marvel movies.

art without substance is consumption. it's a distraction from your own humanity, it is not anything more.

not to you, anyway.

and I don't know.

that's really sad.

I've made so many friends through ships and babbling about canon and gushing about narrative beats.

I feel like I got something out of fandom, if other people force me to see the world in another light. I feel like a story has done its job if it's made me feel something. and it's really done a great job if I feel invested enough to hope two characters smooch.

but self insert?

eh. so you just like the character and think they're hot. that's fine.

not that interesting to talk about either. requires very little analysis on your part.

they just provoke sexual feelings or romantic feelings , which are easiest for you to process, and then you can move on to the next pretty boy you can turn into a Dom.

it irks me, man.

just a tad bit.

[theninjamouse]

Please let me pretend this is real, just for a little while longer

[harmonysanreads]

I KNOW WE HAVEN’T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT PHAINON YET (except for that cute face and yummy booba) AND I ALREADY HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM.

Okay okay imagine Yandere! Phainon who loves you and cherishes your existence too much to the brink of obsession (can you blame him?). Him, being a perfect man himself still thinks that he lacks something, and that something is your devotion, your unyielding love because he deserves it, right? He deserves to have your attention and your affection after everything he has done for you.

Oh no, dear Phainon is definitely not a selfish man, he just needs your love to complete himself, to have someone that he could return to after a hard day.

That’s why I think this man will definitely love bombing you. Gifts, kisses, cuddles? Everything you want, everything you ask for. And even if you don’t even need it, he still offers it to you like the desperate puppy he is. He will spoil you rotten, and I mean it in the most respectful way. He found your smallest quirks adorable even if it’s not that special in your eyes. He reminds you to stay dehydrated and go to sleep early, he even tells you to eat healthy. That’s why after knowing him, you have never skipped another meal. And he will definitely coo softly to you whenever you feel insecure about yourself. That’s why you need him, that’s why you should rely on him. And the only thing Phainon ask for as a payback is your love, love him like the way he does to you. Please please because you’re his pretty girl and he loves you too much to even think that this is not a mutual feeling.

Can you really say no to him? To that adorable face and those sparkling blue eyes that seem to go lovesick everytime they catch a glimpse of you?

It was the fifth time this month, or was it the sixth? You couldn't be bothered to keep count anymore, the absurdity of the situation pushing you closer to questioning reality.

“You do know that it's illegal to break into a person's house?” you manage to croak out, senses strained by sickness.

“Break into your house?” he pulls out a chair to sit, the bowl of whatever he'd brought with him finding its place on the table beside your bed.

The near-dumbfounded edge to his question makes you deadpan, “You're so humorous, even when you're sick. How is it trespassing when we're in love with each other?”

You feel your fingers clutching onto your bedsheets, did he even hear you? Can he hear himself? To that, your conscience answers with a firm no. He'll only acknowledge what will suit his fancy, anything else is but you being in a ‘phase of denial’.

“I am not in love with you, how many times do I need to reiterate?” you stress, watching the twirl of the spoon as he stirs the contents in the bowl.

“Hush, I know you're just moody I didn't arrive sooner. I read it on that book you had on you on last Saturday. This is the part where I'm supposed to apologize and hold my ears, right—”

You release a heavy sigh.

You could not decide what begged the most concern : the fact that he doesn't see the problem in his behavior or how accustomed to it that you're getting.

A warm touch on your forehead startles you, another firmer grip on your arm stops you from moving away, “How are you still so energetic with this high a fever?” the candle atop the table flickers, a frown blemishes his face.

He leans in, you respond by increasing the distance. “I took medicine earlier.” you mutter, suddenly feeling like a guilty child.

“Did you? Good girl.” you don't need to look at him to picture the shine clinging at the corners of his lips. You shouldn't look at him for it'll reveal the barely held back cringe spreading across your face.

You're about to protest but a wave of dizziness halts you. Phainon notices the change, you find yourself wishing he wasn't so observant.

“But you haven't eaten, have you?” his hands act too familiar, too comfortable in touching you. You're forced to inhale as he cups your face in inspection, pretending it's for work — but you know, his greed extends too far for it to be anything but an excuse.

“I did eat.” you try to assert, he remains unconvinced.

“Are you still mad at me? If so, say it, I can apologize however you'd prefer. But please don't lie to me about matters that concern your health.” a squeeze to your cheeks, shadows fall on him.

You almost want to laugh at the worry in his eyes, at the way he behaves so much like a perfect lover. If you hadn't known better, the haze clouding your sense would've made you believe him, buy that he's being sincere.

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, you're just a bit more distrustful than others, just a bit more cautious than he's giving you credit for — a bit too lucid to have faith in his ‘love’ narrative.

You purse your lips, you are mad at him ; just not in the way he's deluding himself to be. As you contemplate whether to snap at him or not, he releases his grip on you in favor of scooping a spoon of the contents in the bowl, ending his path before your lips.

You turn you head away, a clear rejection. You expect him to probe again but his sigh catches you off-guard.

His finger wraps around a lock of your hair, yearning stains his eyes. “This would've never happened if you just accepted to be mine.”

You soak in his words for a second. Your left eye twitches as you realize, he completely ignored every previous piece of dialogue for his agenda.

“In your dreams.” petulance coats the statement.

To your horror, Phainon easily brings the lock of your hair to his lips, his smile widening as if he's got you exactly where he desires.

“How did you know? I do dream of you, everyday.” sparkles float around the air of his face.

You find yourself grasping at straws, how does one wake up a man who pretends to sleep? A voice in your head interjects, perhaps it is for the best you cease these attempts altogether?

“Now, won't you continue to be a sweet girl and eat up?” his words are honey, his smile is blinding and oh so dreadfully, there is adoration in his face, in his every step.

It has alarm bells ringing in your head, because it doesn't make sense.

“No.” you sharply deny, pushing the spoon away again.

“Why not?” you notice just at the nick of time, there is an edge to his voice this time. A crack forming in that perfect face.

“Because I don't trust you. What if you mixed something weird in it?” that is an understatement, your distrust for the man stretches further than the food he offers.

The elders always say, if something is too good to be true, it is too good to be true. ‘Love’ is not reason enough for you to believe Phainon's apparent devotion, his benevolence. No man would squander his time and resources only to back it up with such an easy reasoning — at least, not a man like him. Even if he says it till your ears bleed — you will not believe him.

The Chrysos Heir's hum interrupts the silence, “Then, if I do this...”

Your quizzical gaze falls on him, he holds your stare and you feel a kick at your ribcage. Struggling is useless, but you try anyway ; if just to be petty, if just to drive your point across, if just to survive. He squashes your attempt with an insultingly easy grip, showing you exactly how futile it is.

His thumb parts your lips with an insistent press, joining his pointer finger in holding your mouth open next. Your nails scratch at his glove in a pitiful attempt at getting him away, his free hand holds them both captive.

His parted lips shrinking the distance is the last thing you see, before you close your eyes shut. You would breathe if your lungs hadn't given up, the increase of strength in Phainon's grip seizes you with fear, makes it feel as though your blood froze with dread. Your instincts stop kicking, accepting its place in the serpent's jaw.

You feel a sharp kick of spice on your tongue, washing through your parched throat. A force has you closing your mouth, holding it in place until the content has been swallowed.

You heave as if you reached the surface from an arduous dive at last, mind working overtime, trying to process what just took place.

A clink of the spoon as it's placed on the bowl startles you, Phainon closes his eyes, a smile nearly splits his face in two.

“That's more like it. See, it was delicious and perfectly free of questionable substances, no?”

Phainon's smile breaks into a chuckle at the astonished look on your face, you feel a twist somewhere inside at the way derision drips from its tune. But before you can observe further, you feel a swipe of his finger on your lower lip. You make the mistake of glancing at him and he utilizes your mishap to make a show of licking the residue from your lips clean.

If you were skeptical about it before, you are certain now — this man will be your doom.

SIKE.

[esyra]

Killing 1300+ Jews in barbaric ways does not make you the good guys. Israel retaliating is Hamas’ fault. Hamas surrendering would mean peace. Israel surrendering would have more dead Jews. But i guess that’s the end goal.

No, we're always the barbaric terrorists. Israel is the good guy for killing 9,000+ Gazans the past 25 days, and trapping 1,000+ under the rubble which will definitely turn out dead if they ever get the proper equipment to lift it off them. Israel is the good guy for killing Shireen Abu Akleh. Israel is the good guy for killing Ahmed Erekat. Israel is the good guy for killing Nadim Nuwarah and Mohammed Salameh. Israel is the good guy for opening fire on 2,400 protesters and killing 52. Israel is the good guy for holding over 1,000 Palestinians as "administrative detainees," meaning they are held indefinitely without charges.

In fact, Israel has been the good guy ever since they got the British to help them colonize Palestine and get rid of the Arabs, as they admitted to wanting it themselves. After all, as Winston Churchill said himself, the colonization of Palestine was righteous because as the Red Indians of America, and the black people of Australia, "a stronger race, a higher grade race, or, at any rate, a more worldly-wise race, to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."

Palestinians, be it on Gaza or the West Bank, can never retaliate or defend themselves. We're to either die and be violated quietly or we are terrorists which will be gleefully eradicated with the help of every colony-based State in the world. Otherwise, we'll disturb the comfortable privilege your racism and religious intolerance ensures.

When Hamas didn't existed the occupation began and the British violently suppressed anyone who opposed. When Hamas didn't exist the Nakba happened. When Hamas didn't exist the Deir Yassin massacre happened. But, you know, that one's fine because it happened after Israel had made Palestine agree to a peace pact, and they would never act unfairly so the brutal murder of over 100 Palestinians is obviously being misunderstood. Hamas doesn't operate in the West Bank, but they're still expelled from their homes, brutalized and murdered. Since October 7, West Bank had 115 killed, more than 2,000 injured and nearly 1,000 others forcibly displaced from their homes because of violence and intimidation by Israeli forces and settlers. They'll bomb mosques with exit points created to save people from settlers' violence, then claim they were used for terrorism. Proof? They don't need it. They'll bomb first then ask questions later.

Do people who blindly defend Israel do anything other than victimize yourselves? Do you even read any actual Israeli news that said the IDF "shell[ed] houses on their occupants," because they're too incompetent to do anything other than bombing everything? Do you ever wonder why the people Israel swears were burned and beheaded always came from reports from houses absolutely destroyed by what could only be shelling? Do you ever hear testimonies from survivors of the massacre saying IDF shoot at their own civilians? Do you ever read about past al-Qassam attacks and noticed they've never had mass casualties because IDF never responded like this? Do you even know what al-Qassam is or do you live to regurgitate whatever you're fed and being spoon-fed your information?

If Hamas' militia surrenders, Gaza will be wiped out and Gazans — those who are not murdered — will be exiled into Egypt's Sinai. That's the end goal since 1948, and that's what you're defending. But who cares? Arab blood is cheaper and racism is always fashionable.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What if batsib also dies and comes back? Would that get rid of their status as the comfort person and stability in Jason's life?

This anon is referencing this post!

Hmm. This is such an interesting question! Thank you for asking.

I think it really depends on how you view Jason in my writing. I'll give you a few possible answers and you can do it as you will. To be honest my headcanons are up for interpretation. There's no right or wrong answer in fiction. I want you all to be pleased.

If you want my personal answer then it's the second one. Happy imagining.

If you took it as that he only clings to Batsis because of their purity.

Well i think the answer would be yes. But this would also mean he's not really obsessed with you but what you have. Your innocence and optimism is something he can hyper focus on. It overrides the demons and memories in his mind, when he's in his worse state, he can fade back into the thoughts of you and feel better. You give him hope that maybe the world isn't as shitty as his mind makes it out to be.

If you can stay unscathed for so long then what happened to him was just an anomaly. You are the perfect example of how he wishes he was. Blissful and un-traumatized, he lives vicariously through you.

You dying completely shatters his mind. He allows all of the bad to overtake him, there's no hope for a better life. It's clear the world doesn't want good to exist so why try to fight his demons anymore? They already took you which was the last sweet thing left.

When you come back, you're so different. He can't bring himself to even look at you. It destroys him so much. You're a husk of your former self, you're too much like him now. He hates who he is and thus can't love you the same way as before. Even the pure vanilla scent on you has a hint of death mixed into it. He doesn't like it.

he keeps his distance as far away from you as possible and is rather hostile when you try to interact with him. He doesn't truly mean it but it's all too much.

If you took it as he clings to you purely out of love and your purity is just a bonus.

He could never even think to stop loving his sibling. If anything it brings him closer to you. Your death tore him to shreds...yet you even in the midst he still held onto parts of you he had left.

Your memory..your scent still lingers just enough to carry Jason through the months of your death. He remembered the promises he made to you about becoming better, becoming just like Dick. He still wants to carry that through so he can be someone you are proud of. It keeps him from slipping back into the depths of his mind again. Maybe he even leans on the support of his siblings as well. He doesn't completely shut everyone out.

When you come back, he might be slightly standoff-ish. He's confused and conflicted. He's happy to see his siblings once again but at what cost? He knows what going through the pit is like and what it does to your mind. It looms over you and tries to rip your mind apart. You see and hear things that aren't really there...or maybe it is but only to the un-dead. He's hurting for you. He never wanted someone as kind as you to suffer like this. He knows the pain will never stop.

After his initial aversion, he's even more protective of you. Sure you may not want it but you need it. You won't be getting through this alone, you may be a shell of yourself but soon you'll be back to normal. Just like him you can turn it around.

It's nice to have someone in the family who can directly relate to him. It's like you both are in your own little world together. The other siblings can't have access to you the same way he does. He loves it. He finally has his sibling all to himself and there's no more competition. The others are the strange ones to you now...not him! To Jason, you're still as perfect as before.

[write4cench]

chicken shop date.

had to make this into a imagine.

summary: you get the chance to interview central cee on your show titled "chicken shop date" but he's obviously into you. sorry to ameila dimoldenburg lmao.

pairings: central cee x reader

genre: fluff / slightly suggestive

word count: 2k (unedited)

a/n: imagine that ameila dimoldenburg doesn't exist for the whole sake of the plot. i stole most of her iconic replies though. thank you and GIVE ME REQUESTS. <3

finally. you've got a special guest on for today that's been a fan of your show for a long time and well.. you. although, you haven't had the pleasure of meeting one another in reality, but luckily he agreed to have a chicken shop date with you.

central cee.

you both sit down behind a table in a small yet cosy morleys, the camera crew sets up and prepares for the show whilst a small yet not too large crowd accumulates outside the shop at sight of you two.

you greet central cee and he beams back at you as you both get comfortable and prepare for the small interview/date. "it's nice to have you on the show." you thank him.

"it's calm, i've always wanted to be here." he responds, insisting that it really isn't truly that big of a deal.

you won't lie to yourself, you've always found central cee to be attractive ever since he happened to become a uk rap sensation. i mean who hasn't. you're excited and feel as if it's a blessing to sit before him.

"i actually watch this show too, i saw your interview with burna boy." he admits, referencing the last interview i held about a month ago.

my mouth agapes as i feel honoured to the fact that he actually took the chance to watch my show, "really?" you ask him out of disbelief and he nods proudly.

you'd admit, you'd thought it would be awkward to hold an interview with central cee considering the fact that he hasn't been too shy about the fact that you're considered his celebrity crush but surprisingly, he's very comforting to be around and is down-to-earth.

"i mean obviously you watch my interviews." you joke referencing to his interest in you and he laughs, not denying it at all.

the interview begins.

"what would you say your type is." you ask him and he pauses for a moment thinking to himself before he breaks into a smile. you notice this and furrow your brows confused.

"i like.. i like-" he starts.

"why're you smiling?" you question him confused, although it's an obvious inside joke with the two of you and everyone else that his type is clearly you.

"i don't really know my type, it changes innit it changes by the season." he denies the obvious making me roll my eyes, he sees this and it only makes him laugh.

"well it's winter." you tell him.

"i want my girl to be able to teach me something." he says, before he glares directly at you. you don't let it faze you and you continue to play along with your passive aggressive humour.

"i know a lot, i could teach you something." you joke and he shrugs raising his brows impressed.

"i guess your my type then." he mumbles, his eyes glancing away towards his box of chips and chicken wings.

"what's your favourite tattoo you have?" you question him before eating on one of your chips, central cee listens carefully to you.

"i'm just one big tattoo and the moment, i don't really, i don't know- it's all just blended into one." he rambles as he thinks to himself looking over his clothed arms and chest.

you find him adorable especially his way of speaking, "i like them." you compliment him and something behind his eyes reads pleased.

"thanks."

it's obvious that he's clearly into you, everything from the way that he looks at you, the way he listens carefully whenever you speak and the way that he sits.

you try your best to not make the episode seem like to serious of a date, but with him sitting in front of you, it seems completely impossible.

"i'm not sure how i feel about face tattoos." you mutter, hinting to the small tattoos that decorate his face, he slightly frowns.

"really?"

"would you get another one?" you ask him curiously and he hums thinking to himself.

"maybe not after you said that." he utters jokingly sadly and you both share a short moment of laughter.

"i was joking."

"how long does it take for you to fall in love?"

your question clearly doesn't fall onto interested ears, as a matter of a fact central cee obviously doesn't favour the word love at all.

"i don't know if i've fallen in love before." he admits with a smile to hide how suddenly deep the conversation has gotten.

"you've never fallen in love?" you ask him genuinely surprised.

"no, no- i guess so. i have a weird outlook on love." he responds before pausing looking at you. you ask him to continue on. "i just think it's a delusion innit."

you raise your brows at his response finding it different from your views, "like what, it isn't real?"

"i've been thinking about it a lot recently.. because yeah it's on my mind anyway." he starts finding an interest in the unopened water bottle that lies on the table between you.

"feel like you just have to be a bit deluded."

"that don't mean it isn't real." your response has him in lost of words and he glances about the place before shrugging in response. "i think when you fall in love you'll know." your words make you both share a gaze for a moment before he breaks it, thinking to himself.

"i mean, what if your girl fucks around and it makes your belly hurt, i dunno if that's a good conation on love." he confesses and he notices how it makes you smile.

"maybe that's just what love means to you."

"you've got long hair?" you question him.

"my hair is long." he replies his face looking slightly miserable.

"would you ever take it out of the sock it's always in." you joke and he laughs before he hums thinking of his next words.

"i dunno, i feel like i'm going through a bit of an identity crisis at the moment." he admits, and you hum in reply.

"i like long hair." you smile and he sees so before grinning.

"guess, i'll keep it then." he glances away again.

he's just like a little school boy who's gotten the chance to speak with his crush for the first time. it's cute.

"do i look like i'm hot, like my face is hot." you question him using your hands to fan your face and he shakes his head.

"you're fine." he starts glancing over at your face, "i like it though, it's like natural blush."

"stop flirting with me."

"it's cute." he mumbles gazing at you.

"i'm really bad at flirting." he sighs to himself rubbing his head deep in thought, you furrow your brows in disbelief.

"what do you mean you're bad at flirting?"

"yeah, i'm just shit at flirting, i can't flirt man."

"so what, you don't get with a lot of girls all the time?" he hurries to deny and shake his head, but you only listen to him curiously.

"you're telling me you don't go out with anyone?" you raise his brow and he watches you do so, hurrying to think of his next words.

"no, maybe i do go out sometimes, it's not like i'll go out of my way to do so." he tells you and you hum. "i've just lived a long life." he mumbles making you laugh at how deep it sounds.

"would you go out with me?" your questions sparks his attention and he chuckles to himself at how straight forward it is.

"i'll see."

"this is like a genuine date to me." he says as he opens up with bottle of chilled water, "like i'm genuinely here it's a dinner.. date."

you smile at him as you recall the times he's wanted to go on a date with your for ages, "you've wanted to go on a date with me for ages." you tell him and he smiles.

"i did want to go on a date with you, before my carrer flourished then i got overwhelmed not looking for love it was like a full circle."

"now you're on a date with me." you say proudly and he nods.

"finally." he glares at you and something about it catches you aback, he's really trying to full on flirt with you.

"are you single?" he raises his brow at your question.

"i mean yeah, obviously." he begins laying back into his seat, "i mean otherwise, i wouldn't be here."

"i'm single too." you imply reaffirming him but he doesn't say anything beside humming taking your word.

"what's the quickest way to get to your heart." you ask him, the phrase makes him irk and he frowns.

"don't try to get to my heart." he tells you and you listen to him. "i just think, i don't like girls that like me." he mumbles

"i hate you."

he laughs at your playfulness, "turns me on, i love it."

"guess i'll hate you from now on." you mutter lowly, but he still hears it.

"what's the most romantic thing you've ever done?" you ask him, but learning so much about him you already expect a specific response from him.

"i'm hopeless, i dunno i'm transitioning, this is all hard for me." he rants and you exhale deeply.

"too bad, it's all hard for you."

"it's easier said than done."

"you have a nice smile." you compliment him and he smiles looking at you.

"you're really pretty you know." he responds making you feel your cheeks slightly warm up.

"and you don't know how to flirt?" you frown but he shrugs once again. how can he not understand that he's literally a walking flirt.

"guess you'll teach me then." he glances at you in a suggestive way and you grin as you recall telling him you'll teach him something.

"it was nice talking to you, i'll c you later." you joke and he laughs getting your play on words.

"love and leave me."

"what do you mean love and leave me?"

"like i'll love you and leave you."

"what about love and love me?"

he closes his box gazing at you. "sounds good."

"what's that song you have with pinkpantheress called?" you question him and he shuffles in his seat before responding.

"obsessed with you."

"yeah i know, tell me the song's name." he mentally groans at the word obsessed and you feel the urge to roll your eyes again.

"i don't think i'm the obsessed type." he complains.

"i feel like secretly you are." you tell him implying his obvious celebrity crush on you and he smiles understanding you.

"maybe i am, but i dunno yet."

"i feel like you're the type to catch feelings and get obsessed." he listens to you nodding his head passively aggressively.

"maybe i'm a simp you know." he utters and you both share a gaze with one another before laughing.

"can i get your number, or something?" he asks you taking out his phone from his pocket and passing it towards you.

you blink at his phone for a moment before looking up at him, only to see him watching you expectantly.

you take it from him without a word before typing in your number and adding your contact name followed by a sweet emoji before passing it back to him with a smile.

he glances down at the name and laughs upon noticing the emoji you put before testing it out and calling the number.

your phone buzzes from inside of your pocket and you show it him making him grin with a nod, "i'll call you later yeah, pick up." he tells you and suddenly the tension within the room has changed into hinting something sexual.

"course, i'll pick up." you reply.

"alright."

[crestfallenyh]

new light ; jyh

cw: yunho x reader. reader making things hard for no reason, so this is quite long. sweet boyfriend yunho. a bit of a corruption kink. unprotected sex. backshot lol. breath play, hair pulling, biting and overall roughness mixed with a natural sweetheart yunho. not proofread, i'm testing the waters to start posting again.

"you should still talk to him, you know"

seonghwa's slightly muffled voice made its way to you as you groaned in disagreement with your face buried on his pillow. he gave you a sympathetic look before laying on the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbows and seemingly preparing to repeat the same speech about trust and communication he'd already given you twice in the past hour. before he could start, you rolled on your back and laid there, staring at the ceiling where the silver lightning from his bedside lamp drew funny shapes.

"i know i should, i'm just not sure if i'm ready to face his rejection yet"

you ignored the stern look he shot at you, he knew better than anyone how dramatic you could get when it came to your relationship. your fears were not unfounded, though. you had been thinking over and over for the past couple of weeks about the topic and yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak to yunho about your worries, and as much as you shouldn't do it, you couldn't help but convince yourself time and time again that it wasn't worth bringing it up. you wondered why, because your boyfriend hadn't been anything but supportive throughout the couple months you had been together. perhaps that was the problem. deep down you knew he wasn't going to judge you, much less laugh at you, as understanding as he was. it was just that the relationship was still quite new, feelings yet so fresh that despite his bright personality, he was often rather shy around you. the thought of him looking at you with flustered cheeks and doubt on his gaze, not from nervousness and anticipation but because of embarrassment, held you back from getting too sincere with him.

"i know he's gonna listen and maybe even try if i ask, but i don't want him to do anything he's not comfortable with," you sighed and put a hand over your eyes, the lights suddenly too bright.

"you wouldn't, though," seonghwa tried to reason, "yunho is not the type to not tell when he doesn't like something. also, i have a feeling he might be into that even if he doesn't know yet"

and with that you were left thinking. in more than one occasion you tried to play different scenarios in your head on how he could respond. your soft and sweet giant... how would he react if you ever told him about the dark fantasies running through your mind everytime you saw him, simply existing? what would he say if he knew how badly you wanted him to share the same passion for roughness you had, the same hunger?

up until that moment your sex life had been good, for the most part. he was always respectful and mindful of his strength whenever he held you, kissing you with light pressure and fucking you equally as soft. you liked it, but you wanted more. you needed more. you needed his weight on top of you, suffocating and hot. you needed his hands everywhere, those long fingers of his biting into your skin. he was always nice to everyone, it was no surprise he would be gentle in bed too, but you didn't want him to be nice to you. not in that instance.

maybe it was worth a shot. maybe if you told him what you wanted, he would find a new side to himself too. your hope it was, at least. that's why, by the time you met with him at your place a couple of days after your conversation with seonghwa, you were so nervous it was impossible for you to look him in the eye because the possibility of it going wrong scared you as much as the possibility of it going great. he noticed, of course. after all, he was always perceptive of any minimal expression you made and although he tried not to worry, his mind wandered off to sad places whenever he tried to touch you, hug you or kiss you and a slight hint of a wince appeared on your face. were you about to break up with him or something? his mind was restless, and the atmosphere was somewhat tense, with short whispered answers and stolen glances. you hadn't felt that awkwardness in forever. instead of dissipating the awkward feeling, the anxiousness of the situation going in the wrong direction already made you grow even more coy, and you reprimanded yourself. pull it together, you thought.

ten minutes into the movie you were watching and he sighed, pausing it and looking at you with a question in his eyes. impressive, you thought. he held quite well, but it was now your turn to hold your breath. you weren't ready, but you knew you had to let it out. one big sigh of yours after and you tried to ignore the slight shake in yunho's hands as he repositioned on the couch. him being as nervous as you somewhat calmed you, though you didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"it's nothing bad, i promise," you caressed the back of his wrist with your index finger, rummaging through your brain to find the right words, "it's just... you know, i've enjoyed our relationship quite well so far..."

yunho's eyes were fixated on your expression as you spoke for several minutes about how much you liked spending time with him and how he was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for, so intense that you couldn't help but avoiding his gaze. you said not to worry but your body was sending contrasting signals, eyes looking everywhere but him and twitching hands. he was slowly spiraling, waiting for the 'but' within your ramble. he couldn't even feign nonchalance.

"... i've never quite liked being with someone like i do with you, but..." yunho gulped, "... you know, i just.."

"what is it, love? are you not comfortable with something i did? tell me what is it and i'll fix it"

you shook your head slowly, finally making eye contact, "i don't think it's something you did, yunho. it's more like something i want but i fear i might make this awkward"

"you know when we have, you know, sex?," yunho nodded, more confused than before, "well, there's a lot of things i wanna try, and don't get me wrong, i like what we do now but i just... i don't know if you would want to do most of those things, and that's why i don't want to make you uncomfortable"

you cringed on your seat, suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were finally saying it and wondering if you should backtrack.

yunho's eyebrows furrowed.

"try me, y/n. do you want me to tie you up in the air or something?," he was so very obviously trying to joke but seeing how you made yourself small against the couch, he coughed, "wait, seriously?"

"would that make you uncomfortable?"

he stopped for moment to think about it, and finally shook his head no. he'd never tried in the past and he'd actually never thought of something like that to do with you, so he was surprised at his own answer. he considered himself a pretty standard guy when it came to intimacy, vanilla, if you will. he was too aware of the size of his body, so he never entertained the idea even though he knew people did lots of stuff out there. the more he thought now, the more he found himself interested on how the whole thing would play out. he was only worried about the safety of it all, and as such he explained to you. you listened, still a bit shaken up, relishing on how he was seemingly taking it serious even when barely anything had been discussed and you yourself had never thought of trying bondage, not too much at least.

"but seriously, if you wanted us to try something different, you should've told me before doll," he noticed how his words could come up as nagging, so he explained further, "i believe you when you say you've enjoyed it so far, but i'm always open to listen and i would want you to love it, instead of liking it"

and so, a long discussion ensued. at first it took a lot of courage from you to stop downplaying your actual desires and took a lot from yunho to stop blushing with each word you said. he never thought of you as the type to want to be choked and marked up, if he was honest. he wasn't scandalized per se, but the more you explained, the more he started feeling heat all over his body. he knew he was considerably taller than most and in the back of his head he knew people found that attractive, but knowing now how much you wanted him to do all those things to you and take full advantage of his strength made him lightheaded. he really appreciated how, although you couldn't seem to stop talking once you finally turned off the shyness switch, you still listened to everything he had to say to make sure he was also comfortable and just how far he was willing to go.

once the conversation died down you let the silence sink between you two, processing everything you talked about with your gaze lost in the distant glow of the long forgotten movie. after a while his voice and his hand on your thigh brought you back.

"you were scaring me back there, you know," yunho chuckled, soft eyes and a fond smirk drawn on his handsome face, "i thought you wanted to break up and turns out you just want me to rag doll you around"

the simplicity of his tone made you frown.

"well, now that you say it like that..."

he knew you were joking, and from one moment to the next you found yourself swiftly placed on his lap, curling his soft black hair around your fingers and kissing him, softly at first. his embrace around your hips was tender but firm and you trembled a bit, relief replacing the anxiety from before. seonghwa was right, after all, though you would never admit that to his face. you quickly forgot about your friend when you adjusted yourself on top of yunho and felt his hardness against your body. his eyes met yours and your breath hitched. how come the look in his eyes was so dark now?

"we can wait before trying changing things, you know," your soft whisper fell against his plumped lips, "think about it till you're comfortable"

yunho kissed you again, this time more fierce before tightening his grip on you and starting a trail of kisses down your cheek, jaw and neck.

"do you want to do it now, though?," shivers ran down your spine as his now slightly hoarse voice ringed in your ears, "because i do"

you nodded almost too desperately as those electric eyes of his bored into yours and that was all the confirmation you both needed. suddenly your back was against the couch and he held up a hand to caress your face, moving the scattered hair aside while he positioned himself on top of you. as a reflex your legs wrapped around his lean figure and soon enough you were nothing but a bunch of short breaths and flushed pink cheeks, his hands went up and down your sides and a gasp left your mouth when he gripped your thighs with his ringed fingers. amongst the passion there still existed some gentleness and you whimpered, pulling him against you with need. everything was suddenly too hot. his touch, his breath, his forehead against yours after a particularly long kiss.

yunho unfastened the buttons on your shirt and removed it as well as your shorts, leaving you almost completely exposed under his exploring hands. he glanced at you to check how you were doing and you so badly wanted to wipe off the smugness from the curve of his lips, but before you could say anything, two of his fingers pushed your underwear aside and made contact with your wetness. your head fell back with every movement of his, soon enough his lips were on your neck and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. nothing on your head but him, everything was filled with the feeling of the cold metal of his rings against your folds and the sharp occasional pain from his biting on your neck that made you sink your nails on his broad shoulders.

it was intoxicating having him like this, his instincts so good at that moment that he knew where to touch you so as to pull the sweetest sounds from your mouth. he just knew your body so well. you wanted to return the favor, make him feel as good as he was making you feel but as soon as you lingered around the button of his jeans he used his free hand to grab your wrist and hold it above your head. you whined and his response was a chuckle. it was more fun than he expected, and he was honestly enjoying himself, drinking in the expression on your pretty face and the cloudiness on your hazy eyes.

"no, doll. today you'll just take what i give you, yeah?"

he waited for confirmation and once he got it, he flipped you around, pressing his torso against your back and his clothed pelvis against yours. the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs made you shiver, griping the couch tightly as he got a hold of your hips with his right hand to stop you from pushing back to feel him. his other hand was busy with his zipper and afterwards with prepping you. he slowly pushed two fingers inside of you and you gasped at suddenly feeling stuffed. yunho whispered reassuring words in your ear and after a while he took his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. inch by inch, you shut your eyes closed until he bottomed out and the air escaped his lips in a quick exhale.

you'd never tried it like this before and he could tell you were struggling a bit to take him, which was unusual. he attempted pulling out to let you adjust better but your muffled "no, don't" stopped him. he raised his already furrowed eyebrows, it was hard to concentrate with your warmth around but he paid attention to your breathing, waiting for it to be more steady before intertwining his fingers with yours from behind for support and pushing down with each thrust.

your moans became sharper and sharper and he almost couldn't resist the urge to go harder and faster, afraid he might hurt you. yunho loved the outline of your body and how you jolted every time he hit the right spot. he laid down on top of you, letting his weight fall almost entirely on you and enjoying the way your whimpering was almost involuntary at that point.

after a moment he grabbed a handful of hair to turn your head a bit, just enough for him to be able to kiss your temple. as if that wasn't enough, his other hand sneaked around your body to get a hold of your throat. he didn't put much pressure, but the feeling of his large hand restraining your air intake little by little and the feeling of his large body trapping yours had you shaking with a silent scream around his cock. as you rode your high, yunho slowed down the speed but not the force of his thrusts and so you were left there, overstimulated in the best way as he was chasing his own high. he was almost there, and the ringing in your ears could only be interrupted by the sound of his grunts and moans.

yunho pulled put and let go of your neck to finish himself off, looking at your exhausted figure and blissed out expression was enough to have him cum all over your back with a choked out groan. you smiled at him, taking in the image of him with his dark hair sticking slightly to his forehead. it shouldn't be as hot as it was, but seeing him practically fully dressed on top of your naked body made you feel fuzzy on the inside. your boyfriend smiled back at you and ran to the bathroom for something to clean you up. you would have to hop in the shower at some point for sure, but for now, after he finished wiping his cum off, the only thing you both wanted and had energy to do was to lay down.

he quickly slid one of his shirts on your body so you weren't cold and held you close, both still too agitated to give in to your heavy eyelids.

after a while of him caressing your back and you drawing shapes with your finger on his arm, you heard his voice again.

"you know, i think i liked that a lot," you nodded in agreement, both you and him knew that figuring out what each other liked the best was going to be a journey, but you were grateful for his willingness to try and he loved that you finally decided to confide in him, "what do you say?"

"depends," you joked with a sleepy voice and fluttering eyelashes, admittedly a bit flirty for his inquisitive gaze, "will you spank me next time?"

[santaasi]

santa doesn’t know you like i do

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: in the warmth of christmas, amidst love, healing, and a new beginning, jj and you find your imperfect paradise, where home is wherever you're together

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, establish relationship, talking about kids, no use of y/n, jj calls reader angel, english isn’t my first language

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's kinda part two to die with the smile. but I think you can read it as a stand alone. requested by this ask. thank u for request, love <з.

ᯓ★ now playing…

sabrina carpenter – santa doesn't know you like I do

Santa Doesn't know you like I do I've been there through the good and bad Know how to make you laugh Kiss all your tears away, babe Ooh, only I can do that

JJ MAYBANK ALWAYS LOVED CHRISTMAS. It was, perhaps, the only holiday that truly felt magical to him. The colorful lights that danced against the dark winter nights, the shop windows adorned with glittering displays, the endless loop of silly Christmas songs filling the air — each element wove a comforting cocoon of warmth around him. Christmas had a way of making the world seem softer, more forgiving, and in those moments, JJ could almost believe in something like peace.

But it hadn’t always been this way.

In the broken Maybank household, Christmas was just another day — unmarked, unnoticed, and devoid of joy. The house sat like an unlit beacon in a sea of festivity, its cold walls and empty halls an unspoken testament to everything JJ lacked. There were no strings of lights, no wreaths on the door, not even the faintest scent of pine. It was an iceberg of indifference, floating through a season of cheer.

His father rarely even bothered to come home during Christmas. Sometimes he was locked away, serving another term; other times, he was lost in some forgotten corner of a bar, drowning his bitterness in cheap whiskey, unaware — or perhaps unconcerned — that his son was alone.

Yet, despite it all, every Christmas morning, there was always something waiting for JJ. Beneath the sad excuse for a tree — a cactus he’d once rescued from the roadside and jokingly dubbed "the Maybank pine" — he’d find a small gift and a postcard. The presents were modest: a toy car from a roadside stall or a bag of store-brand candy. The cards bore messages scribbled in rushed handwriting, sometimes just his name. But to JJ, they were everything. Those tiny, clumsy gestures felt like a fragile thread connecting him to something hopeful, something magical.

Even in the coldest, loneliest moments of his childhood, Christmas held onto him. It was his reminder that even in a life as messy and cruel as his, there could still be flickers of wonder.

But as the years passed, the childish magic of Christmas began to fade. JJ found himself watching from the sidelines as families like John B’s, Pope’s, and Kiara’s gathered around large tables, their homes alive with laughter, love, and the glow of holiday cheer. He watched them string lights and hang delicate ornaments on real Christmas trees — the kind that had once mesmerized him through storefront windows. And as much as he tried to bury it, a quiet ache settled deep in his chest.

It wasn’t just envy. It was the sharp sting of absence, a longing for something he’d never truly had. JJ had never known the comfort of a family coming together, the warmth of being part of something whole. He’d never sat at a big table on Christmas Eve, hands joined in prayer, giving thanks for love and blessings. He’d never felt the security of being surrounded by people who cared for him simply because he existed. And though he masked the pain behind his signature grin and easy bravado, it festered inside him — a quiet storm of hurt and resentment.

He wanted what they had. He wanted it desperately. But instead, his Christmases were spent alone. A pack of chips served as his feast, the flickering light of a static-filled TV his only companion. Lying on his bed, he would flip through the sparse free channels, hoping for some distraction, some escape. And always, in the back of his mind, he clung to the faintest hope that come morning, he’d find a small gift beneath the cactus — his father’s feeble, unspoken attempt at connection.

For years, this was his Christmas: quiet, lonely, and hollow.

But then, one year, everything changed.

JJ was fourteen when his father was imprisoned for the first time for an extended period, leaving him utterly alone. John B. and his father did what they could to help, but JJ bristled at the idea of being anyone’s charity case. The weight of feeling indebted was too much for him to bear. That summer, he decided to fend for himself, searching for his first job.

It wasn’t easy. JJ quickly discovered that no one wanted to hire a scrappy, imperfect Pogue with a tarnished family name. The shadow of his father’s reputation loomed large over the island, and people assumed that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He could still recall the sting of rejection, the way doors closed in his face, and the cold, judgmental eyes that dismissed him before he even had a chance to speak. With each failure, his hope dwindled, until desperation weighed heavy on his young shoulders.

And then, like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, your father entered his life.

JJ often saw him at the docks, heading out for early-morning fishing trips. A few times, when the catch was plentiful, your father had even handed JJ a couple of fish — no questions asked, no pity in his eyes. Your family wasn’t wealthy like the Camerons, but you weren’t struggling at the bottom of the Cut either. You lived modestly, running a small fishmonger’s shop that was well-loved by locals for its unmatched quality.

That day, as JJ sat dejectedly on the pier, contemplating yet another fruitless search, your father approached him. With a kind smile and no hesitation, he offered JJ a job. Weekend mornings spent fishing, helping with traps and unloading — the kind of honest work JJ had been searching for. It felt like a lifeline, a stroke of fortune for a fourteen-year-old boy who had nearly given up.

From that moment, your father became more than an employer. He became a steady presence in JJ’s life, someone who saw the good in him when others refused to look past the Maybank name. In time, he even became a friend — a surrogate father in ways JJ hadn’t realized he desperately needed.

Your family’s kindness extended beyond the job. Your father often invited JJ to join your family dinners, but JJ rarely accepted. The idea of intruding on something so warm and whole made him uncomfortable. He already felt like he owed your father too much, and the last thing he wanted was to overstep. Still, on the rare occasions when your mother’s insistence won out, JJ would find himself sitting at your table, silently marveling at the life you lived.

And then there was you.

At every dinner, JJ’s eyes inevitably found you. You were radiant, an unapproachable beauty that reminded him of the star atop a Christmas tree — brilliant and captivating, yet forever out of reach. The two of you didn’t talk much, just polite exchanges and fleeting smiles, but it was enough. For JJ, it was more than enough.

He fell for you quietly, deeply, and without reservation. To him, you were a dream — a glimpse of something he could never quite have but couldn’t help but long for.

But one day, everything changed — and with it, JJ’s love for Christmas was born.

It was the same year, during the heart of winter. JJ wandered aimlessly through the deserted streets of Kildare, his hands buried deep in his pockets as the howling sea wind tugged at his threadbare jacket. Shop windows, darkened in honor of the holiday, glimmered faintly with leftover lights, their cheerful displays feeling like a world apart from his reality. Everyone else was inside, basking in the warmth of family and celebration. His friends were home — John B. spending the day with his father, Pope and Kiara with their own families — while JJ walked the streets, searching for something he couldn’t name, a place where he belonged.

His own house was cold and hollow, a silent reminder of all he didn’t have. John B. had invited him over, but JJ declined, unwilling to intrude on his friend’s rare moments of peace with his dad. So, he drifted through the morning, each step pulling him deeper into an abyss of loneliness.

A sudden chime shattered his thoughts — the soft jingle of a shop bell as its door swung open. JJ looked up, his breath catching as the sound of laughter echoed down the street.

It was you.

You stepped out of the grocery store with your dad, your voice lilting with a joy that made the bleak morning feel brighter. A red knit hat perched on your head, mirroring the one your father wore, and you both sported matching festive pajama sets. The sight was almost absurdly charming, but to JJ, you looked radiant — more beautiful than ever. The soft sunlight seemed to halo around you, making you seem like an angel come to life.

As if sensing his gaze, you turned toward him and waved, your smile lighting up the frosty morning. JJ’s heart stuttered, and before he could fully process it, you were already standing in front of him, your breath visible in the chill air, your cheeks flushed pink.

“Merry Christmas, Jay,” you said warmly, tilting your head slightly. A strand of hair escaped from beneath your hat, brushing your face. JJ had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach out, to tuck it back behind your ear.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them. It was only when he saw the faint blush dust your cheeks, your gaze darting downward with a shy smile, that he realized what he’d called you.

“We... my dad and I were thinking,” you began hesitantly, your voice a little rushed, “do you want to spend Christmas with us?”

JJ blinked, caught off guard.

You bit your lip nervously, shifting your weight. “We haven’t opened presents yet, and Mom made that cherry pudding you love, and we always watch a movie after that and-”

You were rambling, your nose wrinkling slightly as you spoke, and JJ couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t want to impose, didn’t want to accept and risk feeling like a burden. But the nervous hope in your voice, the way you avoided his eyes as though bracing for rejection, made it impossible to refuse.

“Thank you. With pleasure,” he interrupted softly, his smile widening.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, wide with surprise, and then they lit up with excitement. Before JJ could react, you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the car with a burst of enthusiasm. “He said yes, Dad!” you called out, beaming.

That Christmas was the best of JJ’s life.

The warmth of the fireplace, the soft glow of the Christmas tree, the unexpected gifts waiting under its branches — all of it was magical. But none of it compared to the feeling of being part of something he’d always longed for. Sitting with your family, sharing laughter and stories, tasting your mom’s cherry pudding, JJ felt something he hadn’t dared to dream of: belonging.

And then there was you.

You, who had reached out when no one else had. You, who had brought him in from the cold, both outside and within. You, who had become his Christmas angel, saving him with your kindness and warmth. That day, you didn’t just give JJ a happy holiday — you gave him a family.

You became his home.

And now, JJ sat on the bed in the bedroom you shared, in the house you’d built together — not the grand mansion with big windows and a sprawling garden he had once promised you under a starlit sky, but a modest, white, slightly weathered two-story home. It had a cozy front yard with space for flowers yet to be planted and a back door that opened onto the soft sands of the beach. It wasn’t the picture-perfect dream you once painted together, but it was real. It was yours.

This house had become his sanctuary. Each day, he came home to your arms, finding solace in your laughter and warmth. Each morning, he woke beside you, basking in the light of a love that grounded him. And tonight, you would celebrate your first Christmas in the home you’d built — not just of wood and stone, but of trust and shared dreams. It wasn’t perfect. Neither were you. But it was home.

For JJ, it was more than he had ever thought he could have. The boy who once wandered lonely streets at Christmas, who stared longingly at shop windows and dreamed of belonging, had found it here — with you. The memory of those cold, empty nights and his childhood filled with longing still lingered at the edges of his mind, but they no longer haunted him. You had rewritten his story, replacing loneliness with joy and pain with purpose.

He glanced toward the living room and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched you bustle back and forth between the kitchen and dining room. You were radiant, your hair cascading down your back in soft waves as the skirt of your red dress shimmered with each step. A familiar Santa hat perched on your head, the same one you wore on the Christmas that changed everything—the one where you gave him the gift of belonging for the first time.

The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven, mingling with the faint, sweet scent of pine from the decorated tree in the corner. Your favorite Christmas playlist hummed in the background, and you hummed along softly as you worked, pausing to adjust the napkins on the table with a perfectionist’s touch. JJ’s lips curled into a smile. You were always like this, always striving to make things special for everyone else, pouring your heart into the smallest details.

He could see the excitement in your every movement — the way your cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, the way your eyes sparkled with anticipation. It reminded him of the first time he saw you that Christmas morning years ago, standing on the icy street in your matching pajamas with your dad. Back then, you had invited him into your family, into your world, without hesitation. Now, here you were, creating that same magic, not just for him but for the friends you both cherished.

JJ felt his chest tighten with gratitude. He didn’t need the mansion or the grand promises anymore. He didn’t need a perfectly landscaped garden or the white picket fence. He already had everything he’d ever dreamed of — and more. You were his dream, his home, his Christmas angel.

Pushing off the doorframe, he walked toward you, his steps soft against the wooden floor. You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the final touches of the table. But when he slid his arms around your waist from behind, you let out a small gasp, laughing as you turned to look up at him.

“Jay,” you chided playfully, though your smile gave you away.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he breathed you in — the scent of cinnamon, the faint traces of your perfume, the essence of you. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection, “you don’t have to do all this. It’s already perfect.”

You shook your head, a strand of hair falling into your face, which he gently tucked behind your ear. “I just want it to be special,” you said softly.

“It is,” he said firmly, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Because of you. Everything you touch becomes special.”

Your cheeks flushed deeper, and you bit your lip, momentarily speechless. JJ smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. The chaos of the kitchen faded, the playlist in the background becoming nothing more than a faint hum. In that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of the home you’d built and the love that had carried you here.

As if jolted from a dream, you broke the kiss and stepped back slightly, your hands pressed firmly against JJ's chest. His heartbeat thrummed under your palms, steady and sure. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed in a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“JJ,” you scolded softly, your voice tinged with urgency. “This isn’t the time. The Pogues are gonna be here soon, and we’re not even close to ready!”

JJ’s lips curved into that infuriatingly smug grin of his, the one that made your heart race despite yourself. He leaned back as if he hadn’t a care in the world, his eyes flicking upward with deliberate mischief.

“Relax, angel,” he drawled, his voice warm as honey, smooth as the waves lapping the Cut. “It’s tradition. Had to honor it.”

Your gaze followed his, and you gasped. A cluster of mistletoe hung innocently above you, tied with a red ribbon that swayed gently in the air. You turned back to him, jaw dropping, and gave his chest a light shove.

“When the hell did you do that, Maybank?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

He shrugged, a picture of nonchalance. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re under it, so-” He grinned wider, tugging you back a step. “Less talking, more kissing.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back your smile. “You’re impossible.”

Yet even as you said it, your lips met his again, soft and lingering. Kissing JJ was like freefalling into the ocean, exhilarating and all-consuming, like the scent of salt air in the morning or the taste of wild blackberries in summer. He was chaos wrapped in warmth, the kind of boy who made you believe in stars aligning and fates intertwining.

As his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, you felt the world tilt for a moment. It was easy to forget the chaos of the house, the mess still to be cleaned, the impending arrival of your friends. But you forced yourself to pull away just as he began to deepen the kiss.

“Uh-uh,” you teased, breathless but resolute. “Get busy, Maybank. We’ve got work to do.”

JJ groaned dramatically, his pout almost childlike as he tightened his grip on your waist. “I am busy. Busy kissing the prettiest girl in the Outer Banks,” he purred, his lips brushing against your cheek, then trailing to your neck.

“JJ,” you protested weakly, though your hand found its way into his hair, tugging lightly at the golden strands.

Before he could retort, the sharp chime of the doorbell broke the spell.

You froze, your brows knitting together. “What the-” you murmured, glancing at the clock. It was still an hour before Sarah and John B. were supposed to show up. Kiara was stuck at the diner until late, and Pope and Cleo were busy helping out at the store.

Your eyes snapped to JJ, who was now grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary.

“What did you do?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

His smile only widened, his blue eyes sparkling with a secret he wasn’t ready to share. “Guess you’ll just have to find out, angel.”

It wasn’t good. Not one bit.

“Go on, angel. Open the door,” JJ said, his voice low and teasing as he let you slip from his arms, giving you a gentle nudge toward the entryway.

You turned back to him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. His smirk was maddening, and his ocean-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, like he knew something you didn’t. “JJ…” you warned, taking slow, hesitant steps.

“Trust me, angel,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed. The way he looked at you — like you were the only thing that mattered in the world — made your heart skip. His eyes always held that same soft, unspoken promise, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest.

Biting your lip, you reached for the doorknob, casting him one last skeptical glance before opening the door. The cool winter air rushed in, bringing with it the scent of pine and saltwater from the sea just down the road. At first, you saw nothing unusual — just the empty driveway, lined with snow that glimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the quiet stillness of the evening. But then, something shifted near your feet.

You froze. The soft sound of rustling paper followed by the creak of a box wobbled slightly on the porch. You jumped back with a startled squeal, your pulse racing. “JJ! JJ!” you called out, your voice a mix of fear and excitement. “There’s… something out here!”

Your eyes darted to the object on the porch — a large box tied with a perfect red bow. It didn’t move at first, but as you took a tentative step closer, the box wobbled again, and a muffled noise came from inside.

Behind you, JJ’s laugh rang out, low and warm, like he was thoroughly enjoying your reaction. “Relax, angel. It’s not gonna bite… much,” he teased, the grin on his face devilishly charming. You could almost hear the glint of mischief in his voice as it wrapped around you, tugging at your nerves.

You whipped around to glare at him, your arms crossing instinctively over your chest. “This is your doing, isn’t it? What is it, JJ?”

His grin widened. “Why don’t you open it and find out?” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Pretty sure Santa dropped off an early delivery for you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical, but the curiosity was too strong to resist. Slowly, you lowered yourself to your knees, inching closer to the box. Another sound came from inside — a soft, almost pleading whine that made your heart skip a beat. You shivered, but couldn't stop your hands from reaching for the bow. Your fingers trembled slightly as you untied it, the red ribbon falling away like the final barrier between you and whatever lay inside.

“JJ, if this thing jumps out and eats my face, I swear-”

“Just open it, angel,” he said, crouching beside you now, his voice soft and coaxing, like he was trying to keep you calm, though you knew he was just enjoying the show. You could feel his breath tickling the back of your neck, his presence so close that it made your skin heat up despite the cold night air.

With trembling fingers, you tugged the bow loose. The moment it fell away, the lid popped open with a gentle creak, and out came a tiny white muzzle, followed by two shiny black eyes that sparkled like polished onyx. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No way…” you whispered, your heart racing as the fluffy creature let out a tiny bark, its tail wagging furiously, causing the box to shake slightly.

JJ chuckled beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder, his laughter warm and full of pride. “Told you Santa came through this year.” His voice was teasing, but there was something deeper there too — a tenderness that you didn’t always hear. It was the same tenderness that had drawn you to him all those years ago, when everything in his life had been so broken, but he had found a way to build something together with you. The soft thrum of your heart matched the beat of his, and it felt like time had stopped just for you two, here in this small moment of joy.

You turned to him, your eyes wide. “You said no dogs. You said the house wasn’t ready!”

JJ shrugged, completely unbothered, his grin stretching wider, a glint of mischievous pride dancing in his gaze. “Guess I lied. Couldn’t resist, angel. I mean, look at him.” He leaned forward, his finger brushing against the puppy’s tiny, soft ears. “He’s got ‘JJ Maybank’ written all over him.”

The puppy let out another excited yip, struggling to climb out of the box. Gently, you lifted him, his soft fur warm in your hands. His tiny paws pressed against your chest as he wiggled excitedly, licking your face with reckless abandon, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.

You laughed, the sound light and free, the way it hadn’t been in years, your heart so full it could’ve burst. “Oh my God, JJ. He’s perfect.”

JJ watched you with a lazy smile, leaning closer to press a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering there just a moment longer than usual. “I think he’s already got a favorite human,” he teased, brushing your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made you feel as if the entire world had stopped just for you two.

You cradled the little ball of fluff in your arms, his tiny paws pressing against your chest as he snuggled closer, his warmth filling the empty spaces of your heart. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you felt whole — like all the pieces of your life had finally clicked into place. You looked back at JJ, your voice soft and filled with gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your heart swelling as his smile deepened.

“Anything for you, angel,” he murmured, his hand brushing over yours as he leaned in to kiss you again. It wasn’t a kiss full of urgency or passion this time, but one that was slower, deeper — full of a love that had built up over years of quiet moments, of shared dreams, of both the good and bad times that had shaped you. A kiss that spoke of promises made and promises kept.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, his fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns along the back of your neck as the soft, playful puppy nestled in your lap. The warm weight of the small creature was a perfect contrast to the warmth of JJ’s body pressed against yours. He kissed the delicate curve of your neck, his lips lingering as if he could never get enough of you. He moved to your cheek, then your cheekbone, leaving a trail of tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.

You turned in his arms, your lips finding his in a kiss that spoke volumes. It wasn’t hurried, it wasn’t filled with desperation — no, this kiss was full of everything you’d wanted, everything you had built, everything you had fought for. After everything that had happened in Morocco, the terror, the near loss of him, you never thought you'd find this peace, this quiet joy. But here you were, wrapped in his embrace, feeling more alive than ever.

After that incident, after the nightmare of nearly losing him, JJ had changed. He was different. More gentle, more mindful of your every need, and more focused on building a life with you. You had always known he loved you, always felt the weight of his affection even when he didn’t say it aloud, but now — now it was deeper, tenfold. His love was a constant, a steady presence that made you feel safe in a world that had once felt like it was falling apart. And it was enough. More than enough.

His lips met yours again, soft and slow, each kiss full of meaning, of promises he’d made to himself to make you the happiest woman in the world. And as he kissed you, he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you,” he said, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket.

You smiled, your chest swelling with love as you pulled him closer. The puppy, now content in its new home, wandered around the living room, sniffing at the new surroundings with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. You didn’t care that the front door was wide open or that you were making out on the living room floor, in full view of anyone who might pass by. There was no one else in the world but JJ and the life you were building together. You just wanted to show him, to remind him, how much you loved him. How much you appreciated him.

“What's the next step?” you teased, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. Your hands, without thinking, brushed a lock of blond hair away from his forehead, your heart fluttering as you took in the depth of his gaze. “A house, a dog... what's the next thing in our list?” You giggled, the sound light and free, like a melody you could listen to forever.

JJ’s smile deepened, and his voice softened, filled with a warmth that had once been so foreign to him. “Oh, that’s easy. A mini you or a mini me — or a mini us,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear before he kissed you again, this time with a little more passion. You shivered at the thought of what he wanted — a family. Your family.

The idea of children, of a future together, made your heart race. It wasn’t a dream you had ever imagined for yourself. But now, with JJ, it felt right. It felt like it was meant to be.

“But first,” he continued, his voice playful as he broke the kiss, “we deal with this dog, because it seems to me he’s already gnawing on our pillow.”

You laughed, shaking your head, your heart full as you watched the puppy eagerly attack the pink pillow you had bought from the flea market, its fluffy stuffing spilling out onto the floor. The mess didn’t bother you, not at all. You were too caught up in the joy of the moment, in the warmth of JJ’s arms around your waist, in the paradise you had built.

It wasn’t perfect. The house was small, a little worn around the edges, but it was yours. Your home. A place where laughter and love filled the air, where memories were made, and where the future you dreamed of was slowly taking shape. It was paradise. Small, imperfect, but paradise all the same. And you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

But then, something shifted. You smelled it before you saw it — the faint scent of something burning, sharp and sudden. Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes snapped open as the realization hit you.

“Damn, Jay, the turkey!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening in panic as you bolted upright, the puppy’s ears perked up in alarm as you scrambled to your feet.

JJ laughed, deep and carefree, lying back on the floor as he watched you rush toward the kitchen. He felt like the happiest man on earth, like everything in the world had finally fallen into place. But as you disappeared into the kitchen, he let his mind wander for a moment, and he couldn’t help but think back to the time before all of this.

Back to the dark days when Morocco had nearly torn you apart, when you had held him in your arms, desperate, praying he would survive. You had nightmares for weeks after, haunted by the memory of him almost slipping away from you forever. The weight of that fear had lingered, thick and suffocating, even after you returned to Kildare, when everything should have felt safe again. But it hadn’t been easy. It had taken time. It had taken effort. It had taken healing.

You both had scars from that experience. You, from the sleepless nights and the anxiety that gripped your heart whenever you thought about the what-ifs. And JJ, from the deep, quiet trauma that you knew he didn’t always talk about. But despite all of that, you had found your way back to each other. You had found peace. Together.

Now, as he lay there on the floor, listening to the sound of your frantic steps in the kitchen, he smiled softly to himself. The memories of Morocco were still there, lingering in the background, but they no longer defined him. No longer defined you together. You had rebuilt your paradise, and no amount of darkness could take that away.

JJ Maybank had always been reckless, wild, untamed. But now, he was grounded. Not because the world had suddenly become perfect, but because you were his. Because he had found his anchor in you. You were his home. And no matter what happened, he knew you would always be there, side by side.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the present wash over him. There was no place he’d rather be. No place but here, with you. His family. His paradise.

And for Christmas, that was all he could ever ask for.

The smell of burning turkey wafted in from the kitchen, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe paradise wasn’t perfect, but damn, it was perfect for him.

thankx for reading <3

it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

okay, this work my first kinda christmas special and I like it so much. also 'santa doesn't know you like I do' is such a beautiful song and maybe the meaning of the song is not connected to the whole vibe of this work but first lines is so jj and angel coded, idk.

but thank you again for reading my work and as usual you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

                                    – your santi 🪐

masterlist

[twilightkitkat]

I feel like Logan is oftentimes written as a character who wants a large amount of distance and space in a relationship but I think that wouldn't really be the case. Obviously he can't be around anyone every waking hour of the day and he's his own person, but I'm convinced he'd be clingy once he got into a relationship. He knows to function on his own, he knows he can go through the motions but he just... doesn't want to.

One of the main arguments I see for him wanting a lot of space is that he has an eternity to live so he doesn't feel constrained on time when it comes to Wade, who's also immortal like him. And yes, that's true, but I raise you this: he's already had 200 years without him. He's had time to do all the things he wanted to (and didn't want to) do alone—he's traveled to different countries, explored his own origins and backstory, learned about different people and places. And sometimes he enjoyed it, even if most of the time he was desperate and angry and isolated from the world.

He already spent enough time being alone that he knows how it feels. He got it out of his system. He was forced to be alone for so long that he almost forgot what it was like to have a companion, let alone someone like Wade. Someone he genuinely connected to for the first time, who understood him and wanted him.

Logan knows what it's like to be alone. He lived through it almost every day of his hellish life in one way or another. He's tired of it, now. He had 200 fucking years to stew in his own company, 3 times longer than most humans even lived.

But this? The feeling of curling next to someone and feeling their warmth? Burrowing so close you can hear their heartbeat? Waking up next to Wade and seeing his bleary-eyed smile? Fighting next to him, trusting someone to watch his back? Waking up from a nightmare and being held and comforted by someone who understands him?

It's so much better than anything he could've imagined. Why would he ever go back to how things were before, when he knows what it feels like to be next to Wade and be loved just for existing? (How could he go back to being alone after finally tasting happiness?)

He'd want to savor it. To lean into the relationship hard and memorize all of Wade's little habits and routine and quirks. He'd be clingy, letting himself demand affection and attention because he knows he can get it. And he's been starved of it for so long.

He knows he could leave, if he wanted to. That he could go out on his own for a while, back out into the cold. But why would he voluntarily do that when he has a perfectly nice fireplace to keep himself warm? If he really wanted to go out to marvel at the snow, now he could bring someone with him and share that joy together. What could be better?

[judespoets]

𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 | 𝙟𝙤𝙗𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙖𝙢

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: jobe spends the perfect day with you, and him making you his forever wasn’t what you expected.

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: jobe bellingham x fem!reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: none

Jobe shifted, propping himself up one elbow. You were still sound asleep as he just looked down at you, admiring every single feature of your face.

His gaze traced the curve of your jaw, the delicate line of your throat.

"You know," he murmured, "I love waking up like this every day."

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, and a sleepy smile tugged at your lips.

"Like what?" You asked, your voice still thick with drowsiness.

"Wrapped around you," Jobe replied, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare shoulder. "The sun shining through the window, your hair messy like that. It's absolutely perfect."

Your cheeks flushed, and you buried your head into the crook of Jobes neck. "You're too sweet," you whispered. "But I agree. This- it's perfect. You're perfect."

Jobe chuckled. "You're not just saying that because you're half asleep, are you?"

"No," you said, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "I mean it. I'm really thankful for you, you know. When I'm with you, everything else just- doesn't matter."

Jobes heart only swelled, even though it was common for you to be extra affectionate in the morning. He'd never been good with words, but you had a way of unraveling him, pulling out the emotions he kept hidden.

"My love," he began, "i love you, so so much."

Your eyes softened, and you cupped his cheeks. "I love you," you whispered. "More than words can express."

You just kept laying there, tangled in each other, you listening his heartbeat with your head on his chest while his hands kept stroking your bare waist slightly.

"Babe," Jobe said, breaking the comfortable silence, "what do you really want from life? I mean really want."

You tilted your head, looking at Jobe with a confused look on your face. "Jobe, babe, you already know that. Where does that come from we've been together for two years we talked about all of this on like our second date." You said, chuckling slightly.

"I know, baby. I just- we talked about it but i want like an update, you know. Do you still have the same priorities?"

"I think i do, yeah. Well obviously i still want adventures. I want to explore new place, taste exotic food, meet new people. But you've become my priority for sure. I really want to do all that with you, you know. I don't imagine my life without you in it anymore." You told him honestly. "And you?"

He grinned at you, you could see the sparkle in his eyes which were looking down at you with admiration.

"I want to make a difference. Not just a ripple, but a tidal wave. Maybe write a book someday."

You acted offended. "No me in your future?"

Jobe put the hair behind your ear, looking down at you, "I love you so much, baby. You're my number one priority, sweetheart and my future doesn't exist without you."

You laughed, burying your head further into his chest while Jobe held you tightly.

"What do you wanna do today, any plans?" Jobe asked you since it was his day off today.

"I do need to get some groceries but other than that i'm all yours today, babe." You told the man next to you.

You both loved a free day. Days where the both of you have nothing to do and Jobe doesn't have training, it gave you time to spend together since that did fall a bit behind with Jobe's tight training plan.

"I'm taking you out tonight, be ready at 6:30 and dress fancy." Jobe told you softly. "I'm making breakfast what do you want, baby?"

You were stunned at first. You didn't expect Jobe taking you out today. You both were normally the staying in type of couple. Since Jobe also gets recognized a lot. But the both of you loved this idea of a date night, cuddled up on the couch with snacks and a good movie.

"Why? Any special occasion?" You wondered out loud.

"Can't I take my girlfriend out once in a while?" Jobe asked jokingly.

"You can, where are we going?"

"Ha, as if i'd tell you that. Just be ready." Jobe told you as he winked and left the room to get breakfast started.

While Jobe was downstairs in the kitchen, you got ready, doing your usual skincare routine and throwing on a pair of leggings and one of Jobe's hoodies. Walking down the stairs you smelled the amazing smell of pancakes, your favorite breakfast.

"What's going on today? My favorite breakfast too? Did you do something or what?" You wondered, jokingly, sitting down at the table with Jobe.

"Babe, don't worry. I just want to make you happy." Jobe smiled at you, giving you your cup of coffee.

The both of you spent the day grocery shopping and going for a little walk before you started to get ready.

Walking down the stairs of your shared home you saw Jobe standing there, practically admiring you.

You wore a dark red, long dress with a small slit at the leg. Your hair was done in curls and your makeup was fancy yet simple.

Arriving at the front door, you looked at your boyfriend, he wore a black suit, your favorite.

Chucking, you wrapped your hands around his neck while his almost immediately wrapped around your waist.

"You look so beautiful, baby." Jobe told you, looking down at you.

"Thank you. You know you don't look too bad yourself, handsome." You chuckled, giving Jobe a small peck on the lips.

Together, the two of you walked to the car, Jobe driving you to the restaurant he booked you a table at.

Walking towards the restaurant, you noticed you knew that one. It was the restaurant you spent your first date at.

"Jobe! Our first date was here!" You exclaimed full of excitement, you loved the idea of spending your evening with Jobe here.

"I know, you happy?" He asked hopefully, turning his head towards you.

"So happy." you answered.

The two of you spent an amazing dinner together, which Jobe obviously paid. He never let you pay.

Walking out of the restaurants doors, expecting to go home, Jobe pulled you to the other direction.

"Let's walk at the beach a little." Was the only thing he said.

The beach wasn't too far away and it was a really warm night so you didn't complain, although the heels you were wearing did start to hurt a little bit, but it was bearable.

Entering the beach, you walked a little while before you saw light. So many little candles were forming a way together with rose petals, hundreds of them.

"Look Jobe! That looks so beautiful." You said clueless.

"You think so? I was hoping you liked it." He answered, grinning from ear to ear.

"You did that? Are you serious?" You asked, not believing what was happening.

As Jobe let go of your hand he started running towards the end of the walk where you started to see a little circle also formed out of roses and candles. You couldn't believe this was happening.

Arriving at Jobes place, you turned, looking at the beautiful view.

"What's all of this, babe?" You asked, turning around and clapping your hands over your mouth, the tears already daring to spill out of your eyes.

There he was, down on one knee, holding a box with a beautiful diamond ring inside of it.

"(Y/N), baby. I really didn't plan what I was going to say. I was too nervous about the rest. But baby, you are the most amazing, beautiful, intelligent, loving woman i have ever met in my entire life. When I met you, i knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, touché, i know." Jobe said slightly laughing.

"You are the woman I want to marry. You are the woman i want to be the mother of my kids and grandmother of my grandkids. You are the woman i want to grow old with. (Y/N), you are the woman I want to love and cherish for all my life and after. My love, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you do me the honor of becoming my wife, will you marry me?" He asked, with a few tear streaming down his own face.

You were lost of words, you couldn't say anything, you were shocked to say the least. So you just nodded. You nodded so much you could think your head would fall off.

"Yes, of course, Jobe, of course I want to marry you." You said as Jobe slid the ring on your finger, standing up and taking you in his arms, spinning you around.

As he set you down again he didn't waste another second before taking your face in his hand and kissing you passionately.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." He said in between pecks on your lips. "You just made me the happiest man on earth, my love." He told you, wrapped his arms around your waist, while you wrapped yours around his neck.

You just stood there, taking in the moment, in each other arms.

Jobe pulled away, turning around.

"SHE SAID YES!!" Was all that was heard before you heard cheers from the other side of the beach.

You saw a figure running towards the both of you, revealing Jude as he tackled you both to the ground, hugging you.

"I'm so proud of you, bro." He said, laughing and kissing all of Jobe's face.

You couldn't control your laughter anymore,.

You were so, so happy.

[elefishwrites]

poly twisted! angrybeauty (shrimpo x glisten) x reader :3

:0 this fish just got his first poly request!! let's go!

shrimpo's got a really great twisted design, glisten too! i just love the way twisted shrimpo moves it's really creepy

i enjoy running circles around glisten significantly more than that shrimp though... pebble things ☆

"despite everything..." ★ twisted angrybeauty x GN reader hcs

pairing ❥ twisted shrimpo x reader x twisted glisten

relationship ❥ romantic

reader's gender is not mentioned!

dividers made by @/saradika-graphics ⊹₊⟡⋆

♡ How did you- How did you manage this??

♡ Two of the most volatile twisteds, and you're all in a relationship with each other-?!!

♡ Well, either way, you're in it now! Have fun!

♡ Shrimpo's basically a guard dog. He's very protective and will literally growl at anything he percieves as a threat

♡ Which is... A lot of things. He's somehow gotten even more angry because of being turned, and it's resulted in a very thin line between friend and foe for him.

♡ He will and has attacked things that aren't even alive, purely because they looked threatening.

♡ You and Glisten end up having to calm him down a lot...

♡ Which is a feat all its own, because the poor shrimp is almost always enraged thanks to how the ichor's corrupted his mind

♡ Both of them are glued to your side pretty much constantly. In Shrimpo's case, it's because he wants to protect you, and in Glisten's case, he's afraid you won't come back if he lets you out of his sight.

♡ Speaking of, you have to reassure Glisten a lot. He's very insecure about his current state, and there's a constant fear in the back of his mind that you, or worse, both you and Shrimpo will get tired of him and try to leave.

♡ Shrimpo was cuddly before being turned, and even more so now. The ichor's made him a bit more prone towards his base instincts, so there's none of the embarassment that would've stopped him before. He's the same touch-starved shrimp he's always been, despite everything.

♡ Glisten's also physically affectionate, but in the sense of just wanting to be near you and hold hands as you walk together. Being able to touch you and know you're there with him is comforting.

♡ Which sometimes ends up in cuddle piles where you're all snuggled up together in some isolated corner away from everything, away from the machines, away from any other twisteds on the floor...

♡ Glisten loves it. It makes him feel secure, which is rare for him. It's also a chance to see Shrimpo completely pacified for once, which is rare as well.

♡ ...There's ichor all over you. It'd be easy to mistake you for a twisted if it weren't for your eyes still being normal. Both of them have large patches of ichor on them that leak everywhere and get on you whenever you're in close proximity to them.

♡ It doesn't help that both of their hands are constantly covered in the stuff...

♡ You need to get accustomed to the feeling of ichor on you very quickly if you want to be with these two!

♡ Despite their respective current situations, they care for you a lot. Just existing as a twisted can be incredibly painful physically and emotionally, but you help make it just that bit more bearable for them! They appreciate you in their own ways, and they're grateful to have you by their side.

Footsteps echoed off the empty walls of Gardenview, the sound loud in the overwhelming silence that usually filled its hallways.

The source, you and your boyfriend, searched the corridors carefully.

Once again, Shrimpo had gotten aggressive with one of the other twisteds roaming the floor you had been exploring, and ran off after them.

So, as his very caring partners, it was up to you to figure out where he had gone, which had led you deep into the winding passageways of the floor, much deeper than any of you had intended to go.

Glisten held your hand tight, the other hanging limply in front of what remained of his stomach.

His eyes darted around, keeping a careful watch on every little patch of shadow within his range.

You, on the other hand, were trained to look for any flash of that shrimp. It was literally impossible to miss him, considering he was still Shrimpo and essentially allergic to the concept of stealth.

"Oh, [Name]... I don't like this." Glisten spoke softly, worry seeping through his tone. "What if something happened to him? You know how Shrimpo is..."

You turned to look at him, uttering a gentle assurance that your beloved partner would be fine, just like he always was, and that you'd find him soon enough.

He met your eyes, and you two held each others gaze for a moment before he nodded. "Right, yes. He'll be alright. Thank you..."

You offered him a smile, and with that, you set off on your search once again.

You two looked up and down the halls, behind every piece of cover, and even returned to a couple of places you had checked beforehand in the hope he had wandered into them while you were away, yet no such luck.

It was beginning to worry both of you; this was the longest yet it had taken to find him, even on the roomier floors.

Until Glisten paused suddenly. You stopped as well, asking him why he had done so.

"Look," He said, raising his free hand shakily to point. "There's... A trail of ichor..."

You directed your gaze at where he was pointing, met with a long smear of ichor that began a few feet in front of you. It seemed somewhat recent, as you could still see the light shimmering off of its wet surface.

You pointed out that it could have been left by Finn, although you hadn't seen him on this floor up till now, but the mirror simply shook his head. "No, it's too wide to have been left by him... He doesn't seem to be on this floor, either. Which means..."

It may have been left by Shrimpo. You were both thinking it.

You nodded, taking a deep breath before beginning to cautiously follow along the path, lead by the remains of the dark liquid.

It wound through the halls, taking a few turns and seeming to have lightly pooled in some places. You even happened upon the unconscious body of the twisted he had gone after at the start of the floor at one point, the shrimp clearly having beat them until they passed out. Ouch...

The trail tapered out into small droplets left behind from the remnants of the beatdown as it continued, slowly growing less frequent, before finally drying up altogether near the broken elevator.

Letting out a sigh, your gaze fell upon the end of the track, and as you turned to face Glisten, you saw it.

A flash of an ichor-stained shrimp tail.

It was your turn to point now, quickly shouting that you saw Shrimpo before sprinting in the direction you'd caught sight of him, dragging Glisten with you.

There he was. It didn't take long for the shrimp to take notice of you two, your footsteps thudding loudly against the floor as you ran. He appeared mostly unharmed, the only evidence he had attacked someone at all being a few extra splashes of ichor on his shirt.

Glisten sped ahead of you, and it was your turn to be dragged along.

He called the other's name, letting go of your hand to meet him with a tight hug. You caught up soon after, being invited swiftly into both of their embrace.

Shrimpo warbled something you couldn't make out, but what remained of his voice was clearly filled with something like joy.

"Oh, Shrimpo, we were so worried for you..." Whined the mirror, to which you voiced agreement. "Please, stop running off like that!"

The shrimp in question simply let out a huff. Obviously, he thought he was in the right for going after that other twisted earlier... Of course he did. Classic Shrimpo.

He was a lot sometimes, but moments like these where you three were happy and content together made it all worth it.

You love each other, and that's all that matters.

[simonsrileyhusband]

okay, soooo i saw that you might write for other 141 members so, ive had this thought for days.

Religous trauma John price x reader where john meets him and desides hell is worth it if he gets to have him.

Can be sfw or nsfw.

(This is a little bit of a darker topic so you can absolutly skip this and just do a fluffy john one!! 🍫)

nsfw: (religious reader, reader cries and prices likes it)

everytime price went home after deployment he found himself going to curch, even when he doesn't think he believes in god, he finds comfort there after being responsible of the death of so many.

he doesn't kneel or pray, he just sits there at the back, his hands together as he stares at the pretty angel in sitting diagonal to him. john can't help himself, he gets lost in the way your knees hit the cushion, how you close your eyes and pray so dearly, like there is someone listening to your begs.

and you are just so sweet that one day you walked to him, asking if he was okay, cus ylu caught him staring and unlike lost men, he didn't stop, he held your gaze until you shyly walked to him.

"i'm fine luv, just find it hard to understand what he means sometimes." he lies, he doesn't even listen to what the pastor says, he is there to feel less guilt of all the blood on his hands and to see his angel.

so you offered to explain the sermons to him, and sit besides him everytime he came by.

and eventually you found yourself visiting his house after church, and eventually he made his way into your pants.

"johnny, please, not now." you whine, he has you seated on his lap, his growing bulge rubbing into your ass, both of his hands rolling and moving your hips over him.

"but i need ya' now" he whispers into your ear, tossing the little bible you had on your hands away. "come on, i know you want it too."

it never takes more than a few heated kisses and praises for you to let him do whatever he want to you.

and everytime he is balls deep inside of your tight hole his facade falls, he starts being a bit mean and he grips a bit too hard. but he still adores you so much, so when he sees a few tears rolling down your cheeks he will kiss them away.

"shhh, i know baby, i know. it feel too good doesn't it." he whispers softly, almost like a prayer and you look up to him almost like he is your god, and for a split second john thinks god is real, because otherwise hole like yours wouldnt exist.

[bamsara]

Does the lamb ever do anything that flusters narinder?

yeah they. breathe. also exists. sometimes they blink too

asddjhsgksfgkaskjf On a serious note, Lambert was comfortable enough with Narinder because of their friendship in the afterlife and before the final battle, (being held in his hand and whatnot) that as soon as Narinder allows some close proximity again after the character growth/arc and time passing, the lamb just falls right back into that closeness without realizing it. If they're aware, they try not to so as to not make him uncomfortable.

Anyway I have a draft written where Lambert asks (with permission) to use Narinder as a cushion to sleep out in a crusade , he agrees thinking theyre just going to lay their head on his shoulder or back and the lamb is suddenly half-way in his lap and already asleep. snork mimimimi.

Reverse cat-sat-on-you-now-you-cant-get-up. lamb sat now he cant move. he doesn't want to move. oh no

[sillygoofyqueer]

Hooooold now!!!! you can't just drop in shen qingqiu attic-wifing crow!yuan and then say JUST KIDDING, i want to hear more!!!

i looove the idea of that shen qingqiu is super suspicious and waiting for the other shoe to drop, for shen yuan to finally reveal the knife hidden in his pocket and stab them in the back, only to find out shen yuan is just... actually Silly & Goofy Like That, and not a threat at all, and also shen yuan isn't scared of him, not even a little bit, and not in the way of most stronger cultivators who shove it in his face that they're more powerful than him, but in the way that shen yuan casually relaxes around him and looks at all his shinies without apprehension.

he doesn't care at all about the rumors either (he's done his own research, and why care about things that aren't true?), but he isn't hanging off his robes either like yue qingyuan, making him the only True Neutral presence around him. so well. attic-wifing it is<3

ATTIC WIFE ATTIC WIFE ATTIC WIFE- Listen, I'm always partial to Shen Qingqiu showing feelings and care by just...shoving people into his home and not letting them leave. I think SQQ would be slow about it, casually making Shen Yuan stay longer - "it's far too dark and even an imbecile wouldn't be stupid enough to try and venture out THIS late" - making him share a bed/sleep where the head disciple would usually stay. He would analyse how SY makes mini/temporary nests and then make the comfiest nest possible for the demon. Then he would start distracting SY with shiny things, leaving them out and carelessly saying that SY can keep them - "does it look like it matches my home? No, go put it in your room." (SY doesn't know when it started being referred to as HIS room, but he lets it happen anyway). SQQ is the one that suggests that SY recruits his corvids to deal with any requests or prayers, so he has more time to "read those frivolous books and practice those instruments that you're dreadful at playing", incidentally, inside SQQ's home. Meetings start being held there, instead of anywhere else. By the time the other peak lords figure out what's going on, SY hasn't been seen outside of Qing Jing Peak for weeks. They're petrified about what SQQ - the one most adamantly against SY's existence on the peak - has done to SY, and go rushing to see what's going on in their shixiong's home. When they get there, they find SY comfortable in SQQ's home, letting him preen his wings as he rants relentlessly about a new book he's reading, pausing to greet them with a confused smile as SQQ smirks smugly from where he's perched, wrapping his arms around an oblivious SY.

[hiiragi7]

Things I've experienced post-Final Fusion:

All of a sudden, the days felt really... really... really long. I never really felt like there was any time in the day prior to final fusion; living my life in parts, I had never experienced such continuous flow of time before. It's long.

It feels like I now have a lot more time to do things in the day, and I have to be careful not to push myself too hard. I've found myself being online less and less and getting a lot more involved in my offline hobbies and reading. I have a lot more time to work towards things I want to do.

I can actually think about and plan for the future now, and it's incredibly exciting. I talk to my partner constantly about it. I am very excited about the future.

I can remember so much more of my childhood, things I never thought I would ever remember I now do. That being said, there are still things I don't remember, likely tied to other memory issues, and I've made my peace with that.

While my memory certainly got significantly better in many ways, I've realized I struggle with non-dissociative memory issues as well, and I will live with those issues for the rest of my life; it's just how my brain developed, and that's okay.

Speaking of memory, I can remember things freely that before were limited to the memory banks of my individual parts. I no longer have to worry about what parts hold which memories and go about tracking them down; I as a whole either remember something or I don't, and of my memories, I can remember any of them whenever I want.

I feel a sense of ownership over my life, over my memories and my sense of self and my body. I can look at it all and very confidently say "that's me", and I feel and know it to be 100% true. A long way away from not being able to recognize myself in the mirror.

I can't dissociatively "take a break" from life the way I used to (ie switching out and letting another part handle it), and while it took a long adjustment period to get used to this, I'm okay with that; I have other ways to take breaks while still being present, I can listen to music or watch videos. If I really just need to be unconscious, I take a nap.

I had to come to terms with the fact I couldn't push myself past my limits anymore in the way that I used to, and that this is in fact an expression of self-care for me. I used to be able to push far past what I should have been able to, especially with regards to physical pain, and to some extent I can still do this under specific circumstances, but it is no longer something that I will do in my day-to-day life living with disability and chronic pain.

Actually existing in my body now, I have come to realize just how much chronic pain I have been in. It's made me a lot more alert to my needs and how to care for myself, what makes it better and what makes it worse.

When people say "there's always a chance you'll split again", it doesn't scare me; it comforts me to know my brain would still know how to cope if such an extreme situation occured that I needed to split again. I've worked through dissociative barriers, I could do it again. I know what lies at the end of that path is love.

No part of me has ever gone away. Even fully fused, we are all still here. I can even still communicate with myself as parts if I choose to. I still have parts, they just look different now. There are no barriers between us.

My parts held a lot of different aspects of my identity to them, aspects I'm still to this day sorting out. I've had a lot of realizations about who I am as a person post-final fusion, especially with regards to gender and disability. A lot of things about myself were formerly very heavily fragmented and dissociated which no longer are, and I'm still making sense of them.

I no longer experience flashbacks and nightmares. This is a major thing for me I sometimes still am in disbelief about, my nightmares used to be so severe that I would refuse to sleep because of them, and my flashbacks were horrible and caused very intense physical sensations. I no longer have them, and that's incredible.

Life is so much more vivid and colorful than I ever realized. I never realized how dull everything felt and looked before final fusion. It feels like a complete perspective shift that is hard to grasp in words.

I can feel my body so much more now physically than I ever could before. I feel each of my limbs, I feel changes in temperature, I feel my own breath, I feel different textures and sensations, everything I hear and see and feel and taste has so much more depth to it now.

I have emotions! A whole lot of them, and I can feel all of them. I can feel emotions that might be percieved as "contradictory" at the same time, I can feel emotions over little things and big things and just about anything at all. I'm no longer limited to feeling my emotions in parts, and it's incredibly freeing.

On that note, I have so much more emotional capacity now for feeling all of the love I have for myself and others. It's wonderful. I can't shut up about it.

[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 3 - Mr. Madrid | ‘Act II’

word count - 12.4

(bare with me my french is rusttty)

The soft hum of the plane's engines filled the cabin, a gentle, rhythmic sound that lulled most of your friends into a quiet, sleepy state on the flight from Greece back to the north of England. The lights were dimmed, casting a warm, golden glow over everything, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt worlds away from the hustle of the airport just a few hours before. You and Jude were nestled together in a secluded corner of the cabin, the luxurious seats providing a cocoon of privacy. But instead of sitting in your own seat, you were curled up in Jude’s lap, your body pressed against his in a way that felt both comforting and electrifying. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, the heat of his body seeping into you, making you feel warm and safe. The flight attendants had long since stopped passing through, leaving you in a pocket of stillness, as if the world outside your small bubble didn't exist. The intimacy of the moment was heightened by the darkness outside the windows, the only light coming from the small reading lamp above them, which cast a soft halo around your heads. You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at Jude with a smile that was equal parts playful and content. His hand was resting on your hip, fingers tracing lazy, absentminded patterns against the fabric of your joggers. You could feel the strength in his hands, the possessiveness in the way he held you, as if he didn't want to let you go-like he was afraid this moment might slip away if he loosened his grip even a little.

"Comfortable?" Jude murmured, his voice low and quiet, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Mmm, very." You replied, your voice soft as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you. You nestled closer, your cheek resting against his chest, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "I could stay like this forever." You told him earnestly. Jude chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"I wouldn't mind that." He said, his hand slipping in the waistband of your joggers teasingly, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. The touch was light, teasing, but it sent a spark of heat through you, a reminder of the chemistry that had been simmering between you since that night on the beach. You looked up at him again, your eyes dark with the same unspoken desire that had been growing between you throughout the holiday.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked, your voice taking on a sultry edge as you traced your fingers along the line of his jaw, your touch light but suggestive. Jude’s eyes darkened in response, a slow, lazy smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "I was thinking," he began, his voice a low murmur that sent another shiver of anticipation through you, "That maybe this doesn't have to end when we land." Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as you read the meaning in his words. 

"Oh?" you breathed, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke, the nearness of him making your head spin. "And what do you suggest?" Jude’s hand slid further up your thigh, his fingers grazing the top hem of your lace panties, a touch so light it was almost maddening.

"Come with me to Spain," he said, his voice rich with promise, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear. "We could... extend our holiday. See how well we do together in the real world." He cooed. 

"Spain, huh?" You whispered, your fingers gripping his hair, pulling him closer until your lips were almost touching. "And what would we do there, Jude?" You felt a rush of excitement and something more…something that felt dangerously close to hope. He smiled, a slow, wicked smile that sent your pulse racing. 

"Oh, I have a few ideas," he murmured, his voice dripping with insinuation. His hand moved higher, his fingers brushing just where you wanted him most, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made you gasp softly. "For starters, l'd finally get you all to myself. No distractions, no friends around... just you and me." Your breath hitched as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin. 

"And what else?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly as his fingers continued their slow, torturous exploration. Jude chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. 

"I think you know exactly what else," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Imagine waking up every morning in my bed... No rush, no interruptions. Just us, enjoying each other, exploring everything we've been holding back." His words sent a delicious shiver down your spine, the idea of spending days, nights, every moment with him making your blood run hot.

"That sounds... tempting," you breathed, your hand sliding down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "But are you sure you can handle that, Jude? Just the two of us... no escape?" Jude’s hand tightened on your thigh, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. 

"Oh, I'm sure," he said, his voice low and sure. "The question is... can you handle it, Y/N?" You smiled, a slow, seductive smile, as you leaned in and kissed him, your lips soft and teasing against his. Why didn’t you just go straight to Spain? It was valid question but then Jude would’ve had less time with you, and less time to work up the courage to ask you to come back with him. Jude’s flight time was doubled but at least he was bringing you home with him now.

"I guess there's only one way to find out." You spoke hushly against his lips. The flight back from Greece to England was a whirlwind. As soon as the private jet touched down, you felt the eagerness of getting back onto another plane, your mind was already elsewhere. Spain was calling, or rather, Jude was. The plan to switch destinations wasn’t the most practical, albeit not the most environmentally friendly choice either, but there was no denying the pull to be with him. As you disembarked, Whitney was her usual playful self, teasing you the moment your feet hit the tarmac.

 "Switching flights to follow your heart, huh? So you don’t need me to keep you company while you wait for the next jet back to New York?" Her grin was infectious, but before you could even think of a witty comeback, Jude was behind you, his lips trailing soft, lazy kisses along your neck. It was a wordless response that left no room for doubt—you weren’t going anywhere without him. Whitney raised an eyebrow, her teasing turning into a knowing smirk. "Alright then, I see how it is. Safe travels, lovebirds." She winked and walked off with Trent who was immediately in her ear asking for more details that she didn’t have and frankly, you didn’t either, leaving you with Jude, who hadn’t let go of you since you landed. You knew this choice was impractical but it was what you wanted. The thought of being anywhere else felt wrong. As the private jet bound for Spain awaited you both, there was a comfort in knowing that you were choosing this. Choosing him. The moment felt right, even as you boarded the plane, hand in hand with Jude, ready for more of each other. The gentle hum of the airplane engines created a soothing backdrop as you rested in Jude’s lap once again, your fingers still lightly tracing the patterns on his shirt. The intimacy of the moment felt fragile, like a delicate balance between the comfort of your closeness and the unspoken tension hovering in the air. You shifted slightly, turning your gaze back up to Jude’s face. His expression was relaxed, but you could see a flicker of something more in his eyes—something that mirrored the uncertainty you felt in your own heart. You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to ask the question that had been nagging at you since the end of your holiday.

“Jude,” You began softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “can I ask you something?”  You mused a bit more shy than you would’ve hoped. He looked down at you, his hand absently stroking your hair. 

“Course, angel,” he replied, his tone gentle, though you could sense the underlying tension in his voice.

“Why didn’t you… you know, sleep with anyone else while we were in Greece?” You hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward with a question you had to know the answer to. Jude’s confessional about you being a big factor in choosing to come on the trip had weighed on you. You weren’t sure if it was all a ruse or if he was serious. Jude’s hand stilled in your hair, and you could feel his body tense beneath you.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause, his voice uncertain.  His brow furrowed slightly, as if he was searching for the right words. Jude was no longer swayed by the moonlight, bottles of wine, and the bliss post sex. “I guess I thought I would. That was kind of the plan, you know? Have some fun, no strings attached…” He explained. You nodded, a small, tight smile on your lips. You knew exactly what he meant, and it made your heart ache a little. This had all started as something casual, something easy and uncomplicated. But somewhere along the way, it had changed.

“I mean. I know I was the convenient option but why didn’t you?” You pressed gently, needing to hear his answer even though you weren't sure if you were ready for it. You being down the hall was convenient for Jude, but it wasn’t like he would've had a problem finding convenience elsewhere. 

“A very sexy convenience.” Jude quipped with a smug smile but your expression didn’t crack. You were serious. Jude sighed, running a hand over his hair, clearly struggling to articulate his feelings. “I don’t know, Y/N,” he repeated, frustration creeping into his voice. “I thought maybe it was just because we were spending so much time together, and I figured it would go away… but it didn’t. Every time I thought about being with someone else, it just… it felt wrong. Like I wasn’t supposed to.” His words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your heart pounded in your chest, the vulnerability in his confession striking a chord deep within you. You could see the confusion in his eyes, the way he was grappling with emotions he wasn’t used to feeling.  A part of you felt guilty because he made it sound like you forced him into hooking up with you and told him he couldn’t get with other girls. Sure, you probably would’ve been a bit hurt but you didn’t say that. Another part of you was confused when he said he thought it ‘would go away.’ You couldn’t decide if that was a good thing, a bad thing, a jab maybe? You weren’t sure so you stayed quiet. “I… I guess. I guess I just wasn’t interested.” Jude continued, his voice quieter now, as if admitting it to himself for the first time. “I don’t know what it is about you but you’re different. You make me feel things I’m not used to feeling, and it’s… it’s scary as hell.” Your eyes narrowed. You could see Jude struggling to accept the fact that his silly idea to fuck his best mate’s girlfriend’s friend had back fired when he had caught feelings. You felt a lump form in your throat. To no surprise you were feeling just the same. You understood exactly what he meant. The way your heart raced whenever he looked at you, the way your entire world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you whenever you were together. But that only made it scarier. You had always prided yourself on being independent, on protecting your heart from getting hurt. And now, here you were, on the brink of something that could tear it all to shred, either be beautiful or devastating.

“I’m scared too if that makes you feel any better, Jude,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been trying to protect myself, to keep my distance, but… it’s not working. The more time I spend with you, the harder it gets.” The problem you and Jude were having was that your bodies and emotions were betraying you. Neither of you were looking for a relationship. Neither of you thought you wanted more except deep down that’s all you could think about. Jude’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as if he could shield you from the fear you were both feeling. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t want to lose you either. I don’t know how to explain it, but being with you just feels… right.” Jude explained. He knew his playboy lifestyle was in great jeopardy when he invited you back to Spain with him. He didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want you fucking anyone else but he didn’t know if he could give you a relationship. The thing was, you didn’t want to let him go, you certainly didn’t want him fucking anyone else and you also weren’t sure you could give him a relationship. You were on the same discombobulated messy page. You closed your eyes, resting your forehead against his chest, trying to steady your breathing. Both of you well aware a situationship would only result in someone’s feelings getting hurt. The fear of getting hurt was almost overwhelming to both of you but god was the sex good. 

 “We can just hang. You know? No big deal.” You softly told him, your voice barely audible. You opted to keep the massive issues that were rapidly rising to stay under the surface. Jude leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Good by me.” He told you, his voice full of raw apprehension. “No pressure, hmm?”  You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to believe him, to trust that you could navigate this together. But the fear was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, in his mind, reminding you both of how much was at stake. If you caught feelings, real feelings, past a holiday fling, if you ever found yourself truly in love with him and then he left… you weren’t sure you could manage. Your best friends were dating, your pretty damn sure they’d get married and you would have to stomach seeing Jude’s stupid pretty face still but future you be damned you wanted this now.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice shaky but determined. Jude smiled, a small, reassuring smile that made your heart ache with hope. You sat like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, both of you feeling the weight of the moment. 

When you arrived in Madrid it was very clear that you were now on Jude's home turf. The massive Adidas ad you passed on the way from the airport to his home serving as a glaring reminder of just that. As you drove,  the car turned a corner, and suddenly, the massive billboard of Jude loomed over you. You couldn’t help but smirk, turning to Jude with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Wow, what a model.” You drawled, nodding towards the billboard. “Mr. Madrid himself. What a welcome, Jude.” You fell into a giggle. Jude chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“Yeah, well… welcome. You’re in my city now.” He pointed out the window to a kid wearing a Real Madrid Bellingham jersey.  You laughed a little more, the playful banter easing the nerves you hadn’t realized were there. 

“Clearly. Can’t drive one block without being reminded I’m in the Jude Bellingham’s city.” You emphasized his name. Jude’s smile grew, a mix of pride and embarrassment, as he glanced out the window at the towering image of himself. 

“Well, I hope you don’t mind being reminded a little more while you’re here.” He draped his arm around you in the back seat of the car and pulled you into him. 

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” you teased, you wiggled in his embrace to get more settled before reaching for his hand to give it a squeeze. “As long as the real thing lives up to the hype.” You cooed. You and Jude were seeming to have an issue where you were actively saying you didn’t want anything more but you were instinctively acting as if you were in a relationship. He shot you a look, one filled with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Trust me, I never disappoint.” He quipped with a wink and you were pretty sure that your heart may have stopped beating for a moment. When you got out of the car, the air was warm, the sky a cloudless blue, and the city seemed to buzz with an energy that reached all the way out to Jude’s private neighborhood outside of it. The buzz mirroring the tension between you. You’d just spent a blissful, yet confusing, week together on holiday, filled with stolen glances, flirty banter, and nights spent tangled up in each other. Now, back in reality, at least Jude’s reality, you were unsure of where you stood. As you walked through Jude's front door, you couldn't help but feel a knot form in your stomach. You didn’t know how to label what you were, if you were supposed to label it —friends with benefits, something more, or just two people afraid to confront your feelings. Jude seemed equally unsure, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a hesitant awkwardness as you entered the house. "So," Jude began as he set your bags down in the entryway, his voice lighter than usual, "what exactly do we tell my mum about why you’re here?" He asked with a childishly smile thinking the circumstances were slightly funny. 

“Erm… We could just say I'm just here because of Whitney and Trent,” You suggested, your tone half-joking, half-serious. You bit your lip, trying to hide your nervousness with a casual shrug. Jude chuckled, though it sounded forced. 

“Yeah, because that makes perfect sense. 'Oh, Y/N’s just tagging along all the way back to Spain with me because her friend is dating my friend.' That won’t sound weird at all.” You both laughed, Jude pulled you into a hug, the air between you remained thick with unspoken words. Your heart raced as you tried to find the right thing to say. Why was this so complicated? You had been so open and relaxed with each other just days ago, but now it felt like you were walking on eggshells. Denise Bellingham entered the room just then, her smile warm and welcoming. 

“Well, well, well,” she said with a playful tone, “look who decided to finally come back home… and with a friend.” Her eyes widened a little inspecting you head to toe but she kept her sweet disposition. “Hi sweetheart, I missed you.” Denise gave Jude a hug while you watched on in a panic. Of course Jude had told Denise you were coming but it still felt pressure packed. “Hi hun, I’m Denise, it’s nice to have you with us. You’re friends with Whitney?” She asked kindly after she gave you a quick hug. 

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you. Yeah, Whitney's plus one on the holiday and I guess in life but I’ve been replaced by T lately.” You giggled trying to act as natural as possible. “Thank you so much for letting me come stay.” You awkwardly got out not wanting to lose your manners despite the circumstances. 

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Happy to have you” Denise replied, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “You’re gorgeous, hun,  I’m sure Jude doesn't mind stealing you as a plus one of his own, right?” She raised an eyebrow to Jude, her subtly trying to deduce what your and Jude’s relationship was thinly veiled. Your cheeks flushed, and you laughed nervously. “Just coming to visit Madrid. I haven’t been in ages. Figured who better a tour guide than the boy plastered on every building in the city.” You giggled a little. Denise gave an unconvinced nod, clearly not believing a word of it. 

“Of course. But whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here. It’s been a while since Jude brought a girl home. Maybe he just needed some time with Trenty to get his head on straight.” She teased, her voice light, as she pinched Jude’s side. 

“Mum.” Jude groaned, shooting her a look of mild exasperation, though his lips twitched with a smile. “I don’t need anything from ‘Trenty,’ thank you.” He shook his head less impressed with his mum’s infatuation with Trent. Although you were still fixated on who or when Jude last brought a girl home. 

“Oh, hush, Jude.” Denise waved a dismissive hand at him, her grin widening. She turned back to you, her expression softening. “Really, though, Y/N, you’re always welcome here. It’s nice to have some new energy in the house.” She said sincerely. You muttered a ‘thank you’ feeling genuinely touched by Denise’s warmth. It was a stark contrast to the guarded front you often encountered, and it made you feel unexpectedly at ease. Denise winked at you. “Go unpack and settle in. Jude, show Y/N to … or I don’t know… you can sleep wherever you’d like. Dinner will be ready in a little.” Denise cooed and you felt anxiety wash over you. You really hadn’t thought too much about the sleeping arrangements. You were always fine meeting parents but a mum outright knowing you were sleeping with her son while you very clearly had just met and were not in a relationship… It wasn't a great look. Jude rolled his eyes good-naturedly, taking your hand in his, grabbing your rimowa in the other to lead you upstairs.  As you walked through Jude’s home, you couldn’t help but marvel at the luxurious space. The house was modern and expansive, with clean lines and sleek architecture, all accented by large windows that let in the warm Spanish sunlight. The pool outside shimmered invitingly, framed by rolling green hills that stretched as far as you could see. It felt like stepping into a dream, where everything was perfectly curated yet still managed to feel like a home. You followed him through the hallways, your footsteps muted by the plush carpets beneath you. The walls were adorned with minimalistic art, a few pieces of Jude’s memorabilia but it was subtle, the decor was understated yet sophisticated, just like him. 

“Sorry about that. My mum can be… a bit much. She thinks she’s chill but she’s just… I don’t know.” Jude muttered not really anything in particular in a whisper leaning in close to you as you walked. 

“No, she’s great, I get it. She just cares about you a lot. It’s nice to see.” You shook your head, smiling.  Jude’s expression softened, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, she does but if it wasn’t already clear upon invitation you will be staying in my bed. My room’s on this side of the house. Mum’s is on the next floor and the opposite side so no stress, yeah?” Jude explained and even though it wasn’t your favorite thing to think about he was right, no stress. You looked up at him, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his eyes interwoven with a bit of mischief. As you continued up the stairs, the awkwardness seemed to fade, replaced by a sense of possibility that neither of you were quite ready to define, but both of you were willing to explore. When you entered his bedroom, you were struck by how calming it felt. The space was large but not overwhelming, decorated in dark neutral tones that exuded warmth and tranquility. The bed, dressed in soft linens, was the centerpiece, inviting and perfectly made, you were pretty sure he wasn’t the one who had done it. The room carried a subtle, woody scent, like cedar and sandalwood that smelt just like him, making you feel instantly at ease.

“This is really nice,” you murmured, taking it all in. Jude smiled, setting your bags down gently by the wardrobe.

 “I’m glad you like it. I do too.” He laughed. You walked further into the room, running your fingers lightly over the polished wood of the dresser, then over to the large windows that offered a stunning view of the pool and the hills beyond. 

“No, like it’s really nice,” you said, turning back to him. He stepped closer, his presence warm and reassuring, just like the room. 

“I know you said that.” Jude chucked. “Even nicer when you’re in it though.” He cooed. You immediately rolled your eyes at his cheesiness. Jude flopped onto his bed with a playful grin, patting the space beside him. "C’mere, lay down with me," he invited, his voice light and teasing. You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile.

"Jude, we cannot. It would be so blatantly obvious to your mum right now." You reminded him, raising an eyebrow. Jude groaned at you being so mindful of his mum, clearly disappointed.

“You’re killing me here,” he muttered, though his tone was playful. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, shaking your head once more.

“Well, someone has to keep you in line,” you teased, enjoying the way his frustration melted into a grin. He laughed, the sound warm and carefree, before sitting up and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. 

“You’re right, can’t risk getting caught… at least not yet. I want you here for more than just a day.” He joked, his breath tickling your ear as he held you close. After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes softening. “How about we go downstairs and watch some TV instead? Keep it PG for you.” He laughed. You nodded. “But just know I’m impatiently waiting till you let me bring you back up here.” He teased, feeling the comfort of his embrace.

"Patience is a virtue, baby. I’ll make it worth your while later. I promise.” You whispered, before you let go, leaning in close, your lips brushing against his ear.  A shiver ran through him, and he let out a low chuckle. 

"Now that's something to look forward to," he murmured, his voice a little huskier, the hint of anticipation between you electric. You went downstairs and plopped yourselves in the living room on an expansive velvety sage couch. As you nestled into the warmth of Jude’s embrace on the couch, the cozy atmosphere around you was momentarily interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was your mum calling. You answered with a smile, your voice subconsciously shifting into French as you greeted her.

“Salut, Maman! Comment ça va?” [Hello, Mum! How are you?] You cooed sitting up a bit more. Jude flinched a bit taken aback by the switch of languages. You had said you barely knew Spanish, you said nothing about being fluent in French. Jude could hear your mum's affectionate murmur on the other end of the call. “Tu me manques aussi.” [I miss you too!]  You responded, your tone softening as you settled back down into Jude’s side. “Je suis en Espagne en ce moment. Juste à l'extérieur de Madrid. C’est magnifique ici.” [I'm in Spain at the moment. Just outside Madrid. It's beautiful here.]  Your mum rarely knew where you were but she cared enough to call and ask. Your mum asked you why you were in Spain so you glanced up at your reason why, Jude, who was watching you with a curious smile, though he couldn’t understand what was being said. “Ah, Maman, il s’appelle Jude. Il est… bon,” [Ah, Mum, his name is Jude. He's... good] you said, a shy smile playing on your lips. Jude raised an eyebrow playfully, clearly picking up on the way your tone softened when you had just said his name, even if he didn’t understand the words. “Moi aussi,” [me too] you agreed. “Je te raconterai tout plus tard, d’accord?” [I'll tell you everything later, okay?] You told your mum you’d tell her about him later although you probably wouldn’t. Your mum and you were open about a lot, boys always being a hot topic but you be weren’t sure how you would explain Jude. “Je t’aime aussi, Maman. À bientôt.” [I love you too, Mom. See you soon.] You ended the call and placed your phone on the coffee table, feeling the weight of Jude’s gaze on you. He looked at you with that same curious expression, like he was trying to piece together the parts of you he hadn’t yet discovered.

“So... are you French?” he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise, but also amusement and a little laugh. It was clear he was learning something new about you that fascinated him. You nodded, a soft smile on your lips.

“Well… Yeah.” You laughed. “I am. My parents are French, but they moved to the States when I was born but we moved back to Paris and then I went back to the US for Uni.” You smiled. You were a little confused because you thought maybe this would’ve come up already or somehow Jude just should’ve known. Jude grinned, his eyes shining with interest. 

“I never would’ve guessed, but it suits you. The way you speak—it’s beautiful,” he murmured, his voice laced with admiration.You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, and you shifted slightly in his arms, feeling more vulnerable than you had moments ago. 

“Thank you,” you replied softly. “You know, I sometimes forget that you don’t know everything about me yet. I just feel... so comfortable with you.” You smiled back at him. Jude’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours in a gesture that was both reassuring and intimate. 

“I’m glad you do,” he said, his voice tender. “You make me feel the same way. It’s like... I don’t have to try so hard around you. It just feels right.” He sheepishly admitted. “

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions—comfort, affection, and something deeper that you were still trying to define. “You know you’ve got layers, I'll give you that.” Jude laughed trying to snap back to something more lighthearted.

“I’d say you do too. You’re not exactly just throwing on a jersey every weekend.”  You admitted, your voice muddied in a giggle. Jude’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, his touch gentle and reassuring. His eyes holding yours with a sincerity that made your breath catch. In that moment, as you sat there wrapped in his arms, you realized just how much this connection meant to both of you. What were you two doing? There was way too much emotion happening for this situationship and that emotion continued after your lazy afternoon post traveling. You sat at the dinner table late that night, your heart racing. You were trying your best to focus on the aroma of the food Denise had prepared, but your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. You were torn between the undeniable warmth you felt as you watched Jude interact with his mum—how his eyes softened when he spoke to her, the affectionate way he teased her, the easy smiles he shared—and the rising panic of sitting across from Denise, Jude’s mother, for the first time. Denise was exactly as Jude had described her: warm, witty, and welcoming. But still, you felt a little out of place. After all, the real reason you were in Madrid wasn’t exactly something you’d share over a family dinner. It wasn’t that you and Jude had agreed to continue exploring whatever was going on between you or even that you were considering some sort of future together. No, the reason you were here, at its most basic, unfiltered truth, was because you wanted to keep having sex. And you definitely couldn’t share that with Denise. 

“So, hun,” Denise began with a warm smile, “You said you hadn’t been Madrid for a little bit… 

Have you been here often before? Can’t get enough of the Spanish sun?” She asked. You shifted in your seat, trying to suppress a blush as Denise turned her attention to you. You smiled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You could feel Jude’s eyes on you, almost as if he was silently urging her to say the right thing. 

“Yeah, I’ve come on holidays, or just visits in general. Sometimes my dad’s work took him here and I’d tag along. Jude had told me there were some must do things I apparently have been missing out on though so,” you added quickly, trying to sound casual, although Jude thought your comment was an innuendo. A cheeky smile grew on his face believing he was a thing you needed to do in your time in Spain. And while that was true, you weren’t telling his mum that.  “When Jude extended the invitation, I thought it would be nice to explore a bit more”  Denise nodded, seeming to accept your answer, but there was a twinkle in her eye that suggested she wasn’t buying it completely. 

“I see,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “And of course, having a personal tour guide like Jude must make the trip even better, right?” You laughed softly, a bit too quickly, and took a sip of your wine to hide your nerves. 

“Yeah, yeah, he’ll be a great guide, knows the language… I don’t” You managed, glancing over at Jude, who was watching you with an amused expression. You could tell he was enjoying your discomfort a little too much.

“Eh, don’t know your spanish is arguably better than mine.” Jude chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “Doesn’t have that brummy charm to it, sure, but it’s good.” He winked at you. “You know, Mum, I’m just trying to make sure Y/N gets the full Madrid experience. Can’t let her leave without seeing all the sights.” He spoke to his mum despite his eyes being locked on you. Denise chuckled, her eyes shifting between you knowingly. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, Y/N. It’s nice to see Jude spending time with someone who keeps him on his toes.” She cooed. Your cheeks warmed again, this time with a mix of embarrassment and affection. You really appreciated Denise’s kindness, but you were acutely aware of the awkwardness of the situation. You wished you could just relax and enjoy the evening, but the truth of why you were here—why you were really here—hovered in the back of your mind like a secret you were desperately trying to keep. As the conversation continued, you found yourself caught between moments of laughter and tension. You loved watching Jude with his mum, the way he softened in her presence, the way he seemed to genuinely enjoy making her laugh. Hearing stories about him and his brother made you miss your own. It was sweet, endearing even. Yet, every time Denise looked at you with that knowing smile, you felt a jolt of panic. You knew Denise was cool, but how cool could any mum be when it came to their son’s “friend” who was really just around for… extracurricular activities? Denise poured more wine into your glass, her smile never wavering. “I hope you’re enjoying dinner,” she said. “I’m glad you could join us. It’s always nice to have good company around. Always thought it makes every meal even better.” Denise mused. You smiled back, grateful for Denise’s warmth but still feeling the weight of the unspoken. 

“Thank you, Denise. I agree. Good company is essential to any good meal but this has been delicious. Steak always pairs really great with Vega Sicilia as well.” You blabbered before picking up your wine glass. Denise’s eyes widened, taken aback by the comment. She didn’t even think you had seen the wine bottle so she was surprised by your call out. Jude chucked to himself. Clearly your pass at ‘liking wine as much as the next person’ was a farce. You knew from the first sip and that white label spotted from the corner of your eye what wine it was. “This is all wonderful. I’m really happy to be here, so really thank you.” And you were happy to be there, despite everything. You were happy to be here, with Jude, in this strange in-between place you had found yourselves in. You just hoped you could keep everything else under wraps a little longer. After dinner you returned to the comfort of the sage velvety couch nestling back into Jude's arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as you both relaxed on the couch. The soft hum of the TV played in the background, but your thoughts drifted back to the sun-soaked days in Greece, thinking you wouldn’t mind if you and Jude were cuddled just the same but in bathing suits on the beach.

 "I think I really miss Greece." You murmured, your voice filled with a hint of nostalgia. "The drinks, the sunsets, just the vibes. I hate when holidays end." You giggled. Jude tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

 "Yeah, really good holiday. Don’t think I’m sad it’s necessarily over though." He smiled, his voice soft and comforting. "Best part of my holiday came back home with me." You smiled, feeling your heart flutter at his words. There was something about being with Jude that made everything else fade away.

 "You always know just what to say, huh?" You teased lightly, but your voice was tinged with sincerity. It actually made you a bit nervous he seemed to have these lines written for cinema at the ready. Jude's hand began to trace slow, lazy circles on your back, his touch growing bolder with each passing moment. 

"I mean it though," he said, his tone deepening. "I’m really not complaining. I might even think you look sexier in Spain than you did in Greece." He smiled at you with lust burning behind his eyes. The heat between you began to build, the air around you thickening with unspoken desire. His hand drifted lower, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel his breath quickening, matching your own as the tension grew.

"Jude..." you whispered, your voice a mix of longing and hesitation. You turned your head slightly, your lips brushing against his jaw. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and full of intent. 

"Besides, your holiday isn’t over. I plan on extending it right here," he suggested, his voice rough around the edges. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze, the intensity of the moment pulling you in. You nodded slightly, your body already responding to his closeness, the world outside the two of you slipping away. As Jude’s kisses grew more urgent on the couch, you felt your resolve crumbling. You tried to voice your hesitation, your words coming out in breathless gasps. 

“Jude, wait... we need to slow down,” you managed, though your own hands betrayed you. They continued to roam over his body, your lips eager to meet his. Your mind was racing faster than your heartbeat. This was what you had come to Madrid for—a chance to be close to Jude, to continue your passionate connection. Yet, as your bodies pressed together, a sudden and sharp ache struck your chest. The intensity of the moment and the emotions swirling within you became almost unbearable. You pulled away, your breath ragged, your heart pounding not just from the physical exertion but from a deeper, more unsettling realization. The room seemed to spin for a moment as you tried to ground yourself, your eyes focusing on the familiar yet suddenly distant features of Jude. Your thoughts spiraled. ‘Is this what Jude does?’ You wondered. ‘Does his mum know about all this?’ ‘How many girls has he returned from holidays with.’ The questions collided in your mind like a storm, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. How many women had been here with him before you? Were you just another fleeting encounter, another notch in his bedpost? The discomfort you felt was more than physical—it was emotional, raw, and real. The intimacy of your situation suddenly seemed tainted by a sense of insignificance. You felt a pang of self-doubt and regret, an acute sense of having misjudged the situation and your place within it. “Jude, I… I need a moment,” you said, your voice barely a whisper as you gently pushed him away, your own emotions threatening to overwhelm you. You stood up, your movements shaky, trying to regain your composure as you stepped back from the couch. 

 “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry. Jude looked up at you, confused. You shook your head, struggling to find the right words amidst the turmoil inside you.

“No, it’s not you,” you said, your tone heavy with a mix of sadness and frustration. “It’s just… I need to think.” Sensing your shift, Jude immediately pulled back, concern etching his features.

“Y/N, talk to me. What’s going on?” Jude reached out to you, his hand brushing yours gently. Why all of a sudden did this matter so much to you. You’d never had a problem with hook ups before. Why did any of this matter? Tears stung your eyes as you fought to hold them back. As Jude’s touch grew more insistent on the couch, your mind started racing. You weren’t sure if it was the thought of his mum being in the house or the nagging question of whether you were just another one of many women he brought home. You felt a tightness in your chest, a lump forming in your throat—an unfamiliar ache that almost made you want to cry. You never cared like this before. 

“I just… I don’t know.” You tried to steady your breathing, feeling foolish for getting so worked up. “I don’t know why I’m feeling like this,” you admitted, your voice trembling. You weren’t sure you had ever halted a hook up you wanted as bad as this one. Jude sighed, running a hand over his hair as he looked at you earnestly. He pulled at your arm for you to sit next to him although he allowed for some distance between you both now. 

“I don’t know how to say this…” He took a deep breath. “ I don’t know what we’re doing or where this is going, but I like you. A lot. And as confusing as it is, I care about you. I don’t just bring anyone home to meet my mum, I want you to know that.” You bit your lip, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. He didn’t tell you everything he was feeling because he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to acknowledge it but there was a shift in the air between you—like the tides were changing, pushing you both closer to something neither of you were quite ready to name. As you both settled a little further apart on the couch, the air between you felt charged with something unspoken. Jude reclined against the pillows, his arm casually draped around you, but there was a tension in his posture, like he was trying to find the right words. You felt it too, a knot of nerves tightening in your stomach as you stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the confusing emotions swirling around in your head.

“So…” Jude started, his voice low, hesitant. “This… whatever this is… it’s kind of crazy, right?” You let out a small, awkward laugh, nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah, it is. I mean, we haven’t even really talked about what we’re doing here… you know besides the sex.” You awkwardly explained, not sure if it was something he wanted to hear. 

“Exactly. I mean, it’s not like… we’re not looking for anything serious, right?” He turned his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reassurance. You felt your heart skip a beat, unsure whether you were relieved or disappointed by his words. 

“Yeah, totally,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even though the thought of keeping things light made your chest ache. “Neither of us needs to complicate things right now.” You hummed.

“Right,” Jude echoed, but there was a slight tension in his voice that made you wonder if he was just as unsure as you were. He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. “But… we’re obviously into each other. I mean, that’s pretty clear.” He tried to rectify things. You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach. 

“Yeah, that’s obvious.” You cooed. Jude’s thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, and the small gesture made your breath hitch. 

“But then there’s this thing, right?” he continued, his words careful, almost cautious. “Like, if we keep… doing this, it might not just going to stay casual.” He hesitantly admitted both of you very aware you were walking a very fine line.

“I know,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the weight of what he was saying, the unspoken acknowledgment that this was more than just a fling. “It could get a little messy.” You slowly added. He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to where your hands were intertwined. 

“But it’s hard to stop, you know? Like, we know where this is headed, but we keep… we keep ending up here.” He whispered with sincerity but a bit of desire. The honesty in his words made your heart clench. You knew exactly what he meant. Every time you were with him, the pull between you was undeniable, even though you both kept trying to convince yourselves that it didn’t have to mean anything more.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “It’s like… we’re playing with fire, but we can’t help it.” You tried not to smile. You also tried not to kiss him because that’s what you wanted to do right now. He looked so patient, so kind, his lips perfectly pouting, mocking you with how good of a kiss you would get.

“And we know that if we keep going, it’s only going to get more intense. More… complicated.” Jude’s lips curved into a small, almost bittersweet smile. You met his gaze, feeling that familiar tug in your chest, that longing that you both were dancing around but not quite willing to confront.

“So what do we do?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, as if saying it out loud would make everything too real. Jude was silent for a moment, his thumb still tracing gentle patterns on your skin. 

“I don’t know,” he finally said, his voice thick with uncertainty. “I don’t want to stop, but… I don’t want to mess this up either.” He shyly told you, thinking honestly was best. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Same. I mean, I’m not looking for a relationship or anything serious, but… this doesn’t feel casual either.” You sighed awkwardly hating that you even said the word relationship. He let out a soft breath, shifting closer to you, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“I guess we just… see where it goes? No pressure, no expectations. Just… take it one step at a time?” You felt a wave of relief wash over you at his suggestion, but it was mixed with a lingering unease. You both knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but it was the only option that didn’t involve walking away. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, trying to convince yourself as much as him. “One step at a time.” You softly smiled. Jude leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. 

“And for now… we just enjoy it,” he murmured, his voice low, almost daring you to argue. You turned to face him, your breath catching as you met his gaze. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with the promise of what was to come. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your voice shaky with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. “Let’s enjoy it.” The words hung in the air between you, a tentative agreement to keep playing with fire, knowing full well that you’d both get burned. But as Jude’s lips found yours, the heat of the moment drowned out any lingering doubts, leaving only the electric thrill of what you both knew was inevitable. His lips felt better than you could’ve ever imagined at that moment.

“Maybe we should… move this somewhere more private,” you suggested softly, your heart still pounding but the anxiety slowly ebbing away. Jude nodded, his expression softening as he stood up, offering you his hand.

As the sun dipped below the horizon it casted a soft glow across the room, you sat cross-legged on his bed, staring blankly at your laptop. You had spent a few more days loving this messy little holiday extension with Jude and a few more nights wrapped up in him and in his sheets. The words blurred together on your screen, your mind too distracted to focus on anything but the tangled mess of emotions you found yourself in. The feeling of Jude’s t-shirt against your skin and his lingering scent on it only making matters worse. You had never meant for things to get this complicated, but here you were, caught up in something that felt far more serious than you had ever intended. Every time you tried to push the thoughts away and get back to work, your mind drifted back to Jude. How did you end up here, in his house, tangled up in something that was supposed to be casual, but now felt anything but? You sighed, closing your laptop and setting it aside, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. When Jude finally returned home, it was late. He looked exhausted from his workout, his hair damp with sweat, his movements sluggish as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag by the door. You offered him a small smile as he walked into the bedroom, but the air between you was thick with unspoken words.

"Hey, angel." he cooed softly, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it into the laundry basket. His voice was tired, and you could see the weariness in his eyes.

"Hi," you replied, your voice just as soft. There was so much you wanted to say, but you held back, unsure if tonight was the right time to have another heavy conversation. Jude glanced at you, sensing the tension in the air. 

"How was your day?" He asked, though you both knew that was just small talk, a way to avoid the real issue. He came towards you and cupped your cheek.

"Fine," you answered, shrugging. "I tried to work, but... my mind was kind of elsewhere." He nodded, understanding without needing to ask more.

“Yeah, I get that." The room fell silent, the only sound the rustling of sheets as Jude climbed into bed beside you. You both laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the day pressing down on you. Neither of you seemed ready to dive into another conversation about where this was going or what you were doing.  But as you shifted closer to him, seeking the comfort of his presence, Jude turned onto his side and pulled you into his arms. The familiar warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing, soothed the tension that had been building all day. You closed your eyes, inhaling his scent, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. For a while, you simply lay there, wrapped up in each other, neither of you saying a word. It was enough just to be close, to find solace in each other's arms without having to define what you were. The comfort of his embrace eased the knots in your stomach, the doubts and uncertainties melting away in the quiet intimacy of the moment. But even as you settled into his embrace, the proximity and warmth between you started to stir something deeper. Jude's hand slid up your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You felt the tension shift, the air between you thickening as his lips brushed against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his. There was a hunger there, an unspoken need that neither of you could deny. The conversation that had been avoided all evening seemed to dissolve into the background, replaced by the heat building between you. Without a word, Jude leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. The tenderness of his earlier touch gave way to something more urgent, more intense, as his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer. You responded in kind, your fingers gripping his hair, your body arching into his. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate as you both gave in to the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. His hands moved with purpose, sliding under your shirt, tracing the curves of your body, igniting a fire that spread through you like a wildfire. You felt his weight shift as he moved over you, his kisses trailing down your neck, your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The earlier hesitation, the unspoken tension, seemed to vanish, replaced by a desperate need to be closer, to lose yourselves in each other. Things heated up quickly, the room filled with the sounds of your breathing, the rustle of sheets, the quiet gasps and moans as you both gave in to the moment. Jude shifted you so that you could feel his hard on, only the thin material of single layers of clothing separating you two. 

“You want to be a good girl f’me tonight?” He whispered as his hand snuck up your torso until he tortuously toyed with you stroking underneath your tits. You nodded desperately.  All the questions, all the doubts, melted away, leaving only the overwhelming desire to be with him, to feel his touch, his kiss, his body against yours. He pulled you on top of him, letting his tired body relax beneath you. His hands held you by your small waist before trailing lower and gripping onto your ass not without a firm slap. 

“Please. I want to be a good girl for you.” You pouted at him as you sank you hips down rubbing yourself against the tent in his boxers. “You feel so fucking good.” You moaned before he pulled you down to him for another kiss. He smugly smiled letting his hands slid under the tiny silky shorts you were in, squeezing and massaging your ass. Hi hands making quick work to get under your shorts, forcing your thinly covered pussy to grind against his throbbing erection.

“Yeah, be a good girl f’me. Show me how good you can be.” He bucked his hips up into you whilst pushing you to sit back up. His hands traveled from your ass back around to your waist, easing your his shirt up and over your head. You watched his pupils dilate when he drank in your naked form. You gasped as his thumbs played with your nipples. In swift succession he removed his hands from your boobs, grabbed your leg and flipped you over to be underneath him. You loved when he took control of you. He smirked looking down at you. He guided your leg up so your foot was next to his head and began placing slow kisses against your ankle bone working all the way down your leg to your core. He ate you mercilessly for what felt like an age and three orgasms later that had you whining that you needed him. "I need you too, baby, fuck, feel how wet you are." He told you, taking your hand and placing it between your legs. "Touch yourself, angel. There you go. Play with that pretty pussy for me, hm?" His deep voice vibrates in your head, sending a fresh rush of lust through your veins. Judes exhaustion from his workout dissipated and evidently he was on a mission of some kind because his hands pushed your legs against your chest, knees over his shoulders, fast. He positioned you, just how he wanted to fuck you, slapping  his heavy cock against your clit. He rubbed the tip of his hard cock leaking precut against your sopping wet folds. You shifted beneath him to pick your hips up allowing him to guide himself inside with ease. Greedily, he bottomed out in a swift thrust. You gripped the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself at the sudden stretch. The feeling was enough to wipe your mind clear of anything other than him and how he was making you feel. “I know, I know, doing so good f’me though.” He kissed your lips gently as you adjusted. It felt like every time you fucked Jude it was the first time. You just couldn’t get used to his size and you didn’t want to. You craved this. He kissed down your neck as he pulled out slightly before easing back in slower, fully burrying himself one more. 

"Feels so good. You always feel so good.” You whined. Jude gave you a devious smirk in return, giving your tender neck a break and resting his forehead against yours while he flexed and undulated, putting his abs, back, entire body into it, hitting spots deep inside of you that you didn't think were even there.

”No one fucks you like I do, baby. No one will ever fuck you as good as I can.” He told your harshly as he began to rail into you harder and faster. You were moaning his name incessantly. “I know, angel. Take my cock so well. Hmm?”  

“Uh-huh,” you moaned, letting your eyes close. Your head tipped back onto the pillow with one hand squeezing your own nipple. As the minutes passed Jude kept his strokes steady and rough as you desperately whined for a release. He would edge you again and again because he was entranced by the way your tits were bouncing, the sound of wet pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the way your legs wrapped around him tighter, dragging your heel down his muscular back. Every part of this was textbook definition of what Jude considered perfect sex. It didn’t get better than this 

“Good girl,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rammed his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears. “Just like that, fuck baby.” He moaned watching the way his length disapeared inside your pussy. You tipped your head back further as his pace became more relentless. Your jaw slack, eyes closed tight.  “Fuck!” the timbre of his voice wavered, he was embarrassingly weak in you.

“Oh, oh my god, Jude. I’m… I’m going to cum” You mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips. “I’m cumming.” You couldn’t ask for any sort of permission any more. This was uncontrollable pleasure rifling though you. Your muscles tensed as white hot pleasure coursed through you.

“Yeah? Cum f’me angel.” Jude bit his teeth into your neck as his one of his hands dropped to squeeze your already sensitive nipples. “Mmmm such a good fucking girl.” He groaned as you cried feeling himself barreling close to his own release the way you were squeezing his cock now. Your body succumbing to pure euphoria and seeing whites but that wasn’t enough for Jude. He wanted more from you. His hand found its way between your legs as he began tracing harsh figure eights against your clit. You gasped as your hands desperately clung to his biceps digging your nails into his arms. “Gonna cum. Where do you want me to cum. Tell me now.” He demanded. You cried out ‘inside’ with a ‘please.’ A cheeky smile pulled on his face as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek in a juxtaposed and tender moment. ”Atta girl.” He cooed smugly. Jude had you fucking dick whipped in a matter of days and it was only getting worse the longer you spent with him. He shifted to push your ankles back towards your head, folding you in half. He fucked you like you had never been fucked. Both his hands held you down. His mind had gone blank. The only thing on his mind was you. He painted your walls with his release continuing to thrust over and over again.  He groaned as he felt your pussy convulse almost involuntarily into another earth shattering orgasm. Both of you completely spent. You laid there for awhile until he pulled out. He smiled at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you. He swiped his fingers through your folds but you we’re quick to grip his wrist tightly stopping him. 

“Enough.” You giggled, his laughter marrying yours in the thick air as he plopped beside you pulling you into him after he promised to clean you up in a moment. When you finally came to, both of you breathless and flushed, the intensity of the moment lingering in the air. Jude's forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy, his hands still cradling your face as if he couldn't bear to let go. Neither of you spoke, the silence thick with the weight of what had just happened. But as you lay there, still wrapped up in each other, you knew that tonight had changed something between you. Whether or not you were ready to face it, the connection between you had deepened, and there was no going back now.

The next  morning was serene, the soft light filtering through the curtains and casting a golden glow across Jude’s room. You had been up for hours, already having completed a workout, indulged in your full skincare routine, and taken a long, hot shower. By the time you were dressed and ready for the day, Jude was still sound asleep, tangled in the sheets, his dark curls splayed across the pillow. Your alarm began to chime, breaking the peaceful silence. Jude groaned, pulling the pillow over his head in protest.

“Angel….” Jude mumbled. “Baby…” he groaned. “Turn it off, please," he mumbled once more, his voice thick with sleep. "It’s one of my last days before footie starts. Let me sleep in.” He complained. You chuckled softly, moving to silence the alarm. 

"It’s also one of your last days with me, Judey." You reminded him, your tone light but laced with a hint of sadness. Jude’s heart squeezed at your words. The reminder that your time together was fleeting stung, and it made him reluctant to fully wake up and face the day. When he finally opened his eyes, they were immediately drawn to you. The morning light played off your skin, making you look even more radiant, effortlessly stunning in a way that took his breath away. You were already dressed in Dior shorts with a knit corset top, a simple but stylish outfit. Your hair pulled back and your skin seemed to glow from your meticulous skincare routine. 

“How long have you been up?” He asked you with a strained voice. You gave him a knowing look. He knew you woke up early. This wasn’t shocking news. Jude couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, especially in the early morning light. As he continued to stare, his thoughts drifted back to the previous night. The intimacy you’d shared lingered in the room, the memory of your touch and the way you’d let him explore parts of you that you rarely allowed others to.  It had been a powerful moment, one that deepened the connection between you, even if neither of you was ready to fully acknowledge it. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He looked up at you with a tender expression, Jude reached out, his hand finding yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You hummed appreciating the compliment. “Stay in bed with me, hmm?” He cooed pulling you closer to him, his hands dropping to palm your ass 

“Tempting but no.” You smiled. “Come on. Please get up from bed, you promised!” You dramatically pouted at him. 

"Where am I taking you?” He asked, his voice still heavy with sleep but laced with sincerity and a light laugh.  His words hung in the air, filled with the unspoken tension that had been simmering between you since the beginning. You smiled softly, your heart doing a little flip at his touch and the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Barrio Salamanca. You need to wake up, sleepy boy. You’re forgetting everything you told me last night." You replied, your voice just as soft riddled with a giggle, your fingers curling around his hand. "Because I was really looking forward to today just the same way you were really looking forward to last night.” You raised your eyebrow at him.  Jude sat up slowly, the sheet falling from him revealing a delicious deep v as he propped himself up on one elbow. He studied you for a moment, his gaze intense and full of something you couldn’t quite place—something that made your pulse quicken and your breath catch. In the post sex haze Jude began to ramble on about just how much he loved cumming inside you and that he’d buy you anything you’d like tomorrow now today, if you let him do it again. And so you did. You went three more rounds after that first one before you went to bed.

"I was looking forward to it and I’m gonna look back on it very fondly.” He gave you a devilishly handsome yet cheeky smile, his tone teasing but with an edge of vulnerability. "You should look forward to today. A day out in Jude Bellingham’s city with Jude Bellingham…  lucky you.” He smirked. You laughed, the sound light and genuine, easing some of the tension that had been building.

“Lucky me.” you admitted, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Jude chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled you closer, his hand wrapping around your waist. 

"You know," he began, his voice low and husky as he leaned in, "I wouldn’t be opposed to getting into a little more debt.” He laughed pulling you a bit harder towards him. 

"You are plenty indebted to me," you teased back, leaning into him, your lips brushing against his ear. "But after last night, I think I deserve to be spoiled a little, don’t you?"

You giggled. Jude’s breath hitched at your words, the playful tone in your voice doing little to mask the deeper emotions that were swirling beneath the surface. His heart raced as he thought about what you had shared, the vulnerability, the connection, and the unspoken promise that lingered between you.

"Yeah," he whispered, his lips ghosting over your neck as he pulled you even closer. "I think you do." For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. The memory of last night was still fresh, the way you had let him in, both physically and emotionally, had changed something between you. It was a line that had been crossed, one that neither of you could pretend didn’t exist anymore. Finally, you pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. "So, are you ready to get up now?" you asked, your tone light but with a hint of challenge. Jude smiled, his hand sliding up your back, his touch warm and comforting.

“I suppose we should get up. We do have plans, I promised, after all." His voice low and full of promise. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. You pulled back, standing up, your hand still in his. Jude watched you for a moment longer before he finally moved, sliding out of bed and standing beside you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you against him as he buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. "Today’s going to be a good day," he murmured against your skin, his voice full of determination. You leaned back into him, closing your eyes and savoring the moment.

"I think so too," you replied softly, your heart full as you stood there, wrapped in his arms. As you both got ready to head out, the memory of last night lingered between you, a reminder of how much things had changed, and how much you both wanted to hold onto what you had, even if neither of you was quite ready to admit it yet. Shopping in Salamanca with Jude felt like something out of a movie. The neighborhood was breathtaking, a place where Madrid’s vibrant history met the height of modern luxury. The streets were wide, lined with trees whose leaves danced in the gentle breeze. Elegant boutiques with polished glass windows displayed the latest fashions, while the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the nearby cafés. Jude guided you through the streets with a casual confidence, his hand resting on the small of your back. You couldn't help but admire the architecture—grand buildings with ornate facades, some of which had stood for centuries, now housing some of the world's most prestigious designers. The sun bathed everything in a golden light, making the whole scene feel almost surreal. 

"Shall we? C’mon I told you I’d buy you anything. You held up your side of the deal let me do mine. I know ‘anything’ to you means Chanel.”  His voice was light but with a hint of something more serious. As you passed by Chanel, Jude paused and nodded towards it with a smile. 

"I was kidding, Jude. I don’t need a Chanel bag. I have Chanel bags" You emphasized the plural with a soft laugh, shaking your head picking up the bag hanging off your shoulder. “It was sex… I was kidding.” You couldn’t drop your smile but he wasn’t laughing. He looked at you with those deep, serious eyes, the kind that always made your heart skip.

“Yeah, but it was very very good sex. I know you don’t need one. But I want to get it for you. Because I want to, not because I have to." The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. Jude had always been generous, but this felt different—more personal. Your heart practically exploded at the thought. You could afford the bag on your own, of course, but this wasn't about the price. It was about the gesture, about him wanting to spoil you just because he could. The bag, which you might have once seen as just another luxury item, now felt like the most special thing you’d ever own. Inside the store, the world seemed to slow down as you selected the bag, with Jude watching you closely, his gaze soft and warm. When the clerk handed it to you in its pristine packaging, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and gratitude. Leaving the store, you and Jude found a quiet café just off the main street, nestled between two elegant buildings. The outdoor seating was shaded by large umbrellas, offering a perfect spot to people-watch while enjoying a coffee. You sat down, placing the Chanel bag carefully beside you, its significance still making your heart flutter. As you sipped your drinks and chatted, the atmosphere around you slowly began to shift. You noticed a few glances in your direction, whispers spreading among the other patrons. It wasn’t long before you realized that Jude had been recognized. Unlike you, he seemed completely unfazed, accustomed to the attention that came with his fame. But for you, the sudden shift in energy was unsettling. Jude, ever in tune with your feelings, noticed the moment your comfort started to waver. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Home. Hmm?” he offered gently. You nodded, grateful for his understanding. Jude signaled for the check, and before you knew it, he had paid the bill and stood up, coming around to your side of the table. He helped you with your things, then wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you left the café. As you walked down th double stone street, his hand never left you, a protective and reassuring presence. “Had enough of being out. Want you back home with me now.” When you were finally alone again, away from prying eyes, he whispered once more in your ear as you got into a car. 

"Good," you teased, "because I want you all to myself. Tired of sharing." You giggled, a warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned into him. Jude grinned, his eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and something deeper.

 “I’m all yours,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart race. It was moments like this where it was abundantly clear you two were lying to yourselves about not wanting more. Once back at the house, you both walked through the door with an ease that came from spending time in each other’s company. The luxury of the place still hadn’t lost its charm on you, but now it felt even more like home because you were there with Jude. As the door closed behind you, shutting out the rest of the world, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

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

Next part - Chapter 4 - Oldest Friend xx