#i’m trying to keep this series lighthearted

[aakeysmash]

reminder for my college sukuna girlies: the drabbles are NOT in chronological order in the masterlist!!

[theemporium]

[2k] the holidays come and go as you and max celebrate over one month of marriage. the new season is on the horizon, feelings are evolving and charles is still determined to fix the mistakes made in vegas.

series masterlist

.

“You know how you love me?” 

Pascale paused, wooden spoon hovering just above the pot she had been stirring moments ago. She hadn’t even heard you come into the kitchen, but there you stood in the doorway, an innocent look on your face that she knew well enough not to trust. 

“What have you broken?” 

Your brows furrowed together. “What makes you think I’ve broken something?” 

“You always use that voice when you break something,” Pascale retorted with a knowing look. “Like a vase or a picture frame or Arthur’s nose—”

“First of all, he broke it himself,” you huffed a little as you walked deeper into the room, pausing just beside your mother. “Secondly, I haven’t broken anything.” 

Pascale’s eyes narrowed in questioning. “So, what is it that you want?” 

Your expression grew sheepish as you wrapped your mother into a hug. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be mad that I invited Max over for Christmas Dinner.” 

Her brows furrowed together, a slightly confused expression painted across her face. “Mon cher, I’m sure Max would want to spend time with his family. It must be hard being away from them most of the season, no?” 

“There’s a storm,” you explained, your lips turned downwards. “No flights going in or out of the Netherlands. He was meant to fly out yesterday but he couldn't. He probably won’t be able to fly out until New Years.” 

Pascale’s eyes softened at the admission. “He’ll be alone for Christmas?” 

“No one should be alone for Christmas, Mama,” you murmured, puppy dog eyes and pout ready and prepared to tug on your mother’s heartstrings. And it worked. You knew it was going to work. 

It always worked. 

“Absolutely not,” Pascale huffed, shaking her head before she turned back to the pot on the stove. “Tell him he’s coming here. And tell Charles in advance so he can get his tantrum out before Christmas.” 

Your smile widened as you leaned in to peck your mother’s cheek. “You’re the best!” 

“Mhm,” Pascale hummed, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she shot you a glance over her shoulder. “You seem to really care for the boy.” 

“He’s my husband,” you said, playful and lighthearted and unaware of the underlying message in her words. “I’m pretty sure caring for him was in the vows, no? Unless Vegas is different. Which it might be. I don’t really remember.” 

She shot you a look.

You flashed her a sheepish smile. “I mean, I was completely sober and aware and very upset that my mother wasn’t there to see me get married?” 

Pascale rolled her eyes in response before she continued. “I just mean that it almost seems like you and Max are a true couple.” 

“Mama, how many times have we been over this?” You sighed, a little whiny as you slumped your head against her shoulder. “I promise I was not secretly dating Max Verstappen behind your back. Arthur just keeps saying that to annoy Charles and—”

“No, no, I know that,” she interrupted with a soft laugh. “I just think you have grown to care for him beyond what an accidental wife would.” 

You scoffed a little at that. “I care the normal amount for an accidental wife.” 

“No need to get defensive, mon cher, he is not better,” Pascale snorted, shaking her head with a fond look in her eyes. “But I am sure there is no need to worry about the details. Charles said he found a lawyer, no?” 

You tensed a little before flashing your mother a strained smile, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped a little at her words. “Did he? He hadn’t mentioned anything to me.” 

Pascale had a knowing glint in her eyes but she kept poking. “Hm, maybe it was a Christmas surprise.” 

“Maybe,” you murmured, frowning a little. “No need to go through the hassle right now though. It’s the holidays. It can be sorted after the New Year.”

“Oh, of course,” Pascale grinned. 

“I’ll go message Max,” you said, straightening yourself before pecking your mother’s cheek once more. “I’m sure he will be so excited. He loved your cooking.” 

Pascale’s smile was all sweet and teasing. “That’s why he is my favourite son.”

...

.

...

“Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to impose or—”

“You are very welcome here, Max, you’re a part of the family too,” Pascale reassured the boy, patting his shoulder with a fond smile before handing him a dish to carry out to the dining table. “We are all very happy to have you joining us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Charles grumbled under his breath. 

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc—” 

“Kidding!” Charles spoke up, his cheeks flushed a light pink colour at his mother’s scolding tone. “I could imagine no better Christmas gift!” 

Pascale rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Max. He gets a lot more tolerable once he’s been fed.” 

You snorted in response. 

Charles lightly kicked you as he walked past. 

“Thank you though, really,” Max said, looking far more relaxed and at ease than he had during the first family dinner he attended, despite Daniel messaging you about how nervous the Dutchman was. “This is much better than what I had planned before.” 

“Hey now,” you spoke up, nudging your hip against Max’s as you settled beside the boy. “Jimmy and Sassy seem like excellent company.” 

Max grinned a little. “They are divas, trust me.” 

“Just like their father,” you teased. 

Pascale only smiled knowingly before handing you another dish to take to the dining table.

...

.

...

“This was a bad idea.” 

“Hi, Oscar. How are you doing? Happy New Years, by the way, since Australia is ahead and I haven’t said a word—”

“Are you done yet?” You grumbled down the phone, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you eyed the door warily. 

“You’re the one who risked calling me at seven in the morning.” 

“It’s not seven yet,” you retorted. 

“Semantics.”

“I should have just called Logan,” you muttered, mostly to yourself than the boy on the phone—but considering the snort he let out, he heard you clear enough. “The asshole didn’t pick up his phone.”

“He’s probably lost his phone in a lake by now.” 

Your lips twitched. “Bet the crocodiles would have better advice than you.” 

“And yet, you still called me.” There was a small pause, the playfulness now replaced with something a little more serious when you didn’t laugh at his lame attempt at a joke. “What’s up?”

“I’m in the Netherlands right now,” you breathed out, sliding into the bathtub and leaning back against the porcelain wall.

“I know. You told us.”

“I’m in the Netherlands for New Years with Max,” you repeated, the emphasis on your husband’s name doing little to help Oscar realise the point you were trying to make. 

“Yeah, you’ve lost me.” 

“I–” You let out a heavy breath, your head falling back against the bath and your eyes fluttering shut. “What the fuck am I doing?” 

“Probably sitting in a bath, if you’re at least three drinks deep.” 

Your eyes snapped open, glancing down at yourself before scoffing. “Creep.” 

“I’m your best friend. I just know you. Nothing creepy about that.” 

“Whatever,” you grumbled, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

It was nothing special in your opinion, a simple black dress you had made a few months ago with some spare fabric and an overwhelming sense of boredom as summer loomed on. Yet, Max had still gone out of his way to compliment you when he saw it, on how pretty both you and the dress were. 

You told yourself he was just being polite, but it didn’t stop your cheeks from warming at his words regardless. 

“Why are you confused?” 

“Two months ago, the most I had spoken to Max was when Charles first moved up to Formula One and we hadn’t seen each other in a few years. Now, I am married and he invited me to spend New Years with him and—” 

“You invited him to your family dinners. Twice. Once on Christmas, may I add.” 

You glared at your phone for a moment. “Not the same point.” 

“How not?” 

“Because this is New Years,” you emphasised once again. “You spend it with people you want to have in your life for the next year. You spend it with people important to you and he brought me and I am meeting his friends and—”

“I think you are severely overthinking this.”

“Well, I don’t think you are taking it seriously enough,” you retorted. 

“Are you scared about kissing him? Is that what this is?” 

You didn’t reply straight away. 

“Oh my god.” 

You huffed. “You make it seem like I am being dramatic.“

“You are.” 

“Logan would disagree.” 

“Logan isn’t here.” 

“Stupid timezones and stupid Florida,” you grumbled once again, glaring at a random spot on the wall across from you. 

“Look, do you wanna kiss him?” 

You let out a garbled noise of indecisiveness.

“You either kiss him or you don’t. It’s your choice. He’s not gonna pressure you into anything. He just wants to spend time with you. Don’t overthink it.” 

“I won’t.” 

“You will.” 

And you did. 

Even after spending a prolonged amount of time on the phone with Oscar in the bathroom, you still felt skittish and on edge when you headed back into the party. The faces around you were vaguely familiar, countless names that Max had thrown at you bouncing around your head but you couldn’t pinpoint them. Not well. 

Not that you were talking to his friends as much as you should have been doing, beyond a few sheepish and polite smiles. 

And Max had picked up on your shifted behaviour pretty quickly. Your smile had done little to soothe his concern as you took your spot next to him, letting out a relieved sigh when you felt his hand on the small of your back.

“You good?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded.

His frown deepened. “We can leave if you want.” 

But you shook your head, your smile a little more genuine this time. “No, I’m good. I promise. Just need a moment before I do another round of tequila shots.” 

This time Max smiled a little in response. 

And you couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes always seemed to wander to the time, whether it was a clock or your phone screen or the watch on Max’s wrist. Your eyes were glued to the way both hands quickly began to approach the number 12. Your whole body felt like it had been shot with adrenaline, coursing through your veins and making you so twitchy and on edge as midnight was moments away. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Max questioned as the party gathered in a crowd in the garden with the promise of fireworks luring them out. 

TEN! 

NINE! 

EIGHT!

“Yeah, I promise,” you smiled, something almost quite fond in your voice as Max stared at you, not the sky where the fireworks were about to go off. 

SEVEN!

SIX!

FIVE!

FOUR!

“I’m sorry if this is a bit much,” Max murmured with his lips pressed together. “I did kind of throw you in the deep end. I just thought it would be easier in a bigger setting rather—” 

And it made your heart soar just how sweet and considerate he was being. It made the tension lingering in your chest ease, made the shakiness in your hands stop. 

It made your decision much easier. 

THREE! 

TWO!

ONE! 

“It’s perfect, Max,” you murmured, so soft that you weren’t even sure he heard you. But you didn’t get the chance to ask as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his as the final toll of the bell rang and the fireworks began.

Despite being caught off guard, Max sunk into the kiss easily. His hand dropped to your waist, pulling the little bit closer before the eventual cheers and fireworks display made you finally pull away. 

But his eyes remained on you. 

“What was that for?” Max questioned, something written in his eyes that you couldn’t quite distinguish.

You smiled in response, shrugging. “Because you’re my husband.”

...

liked by oscarpiastri, arthurleclerc and 423,738 others

yourusername happy holidays from the verstappens!

view all 16,837 comments

charles_leclerc that's not your name. stop saying that's your name. i am so serious.

pascaleleclerc leave them alone, charles

charles_leclerc MAMAN????

maxverstappen1 when i married you, i didn't know i would be carrying you this much

yourusername are you saying i don't deserve the princess treatment?🤨

maxverstappen1 ...no?

danielricciardo don't sound too confident, mate

yourusername now i wish i posted the picture where you dropped the tray

maxverstappen1 that was not my fault and you know it

yourusername 😁

user OH MY GOD??????

user they spent the holidays together!!!!

user THEY ARE SO CUTE

landonorris it's weird not seeing him in red bull merch

yourusername tell me about it

user i cannot WAIT for next season

user do you think she will go to the red bull garage now??

arthur_leclerc charles will chain her to the ferrari garage before that happens

user i cannot cope with these two i am so obsessed

logansargeant HELLO????? ANSWER YOUR PHONE??? WTF IS THAT THIRD PHOTO???

oscarpiastri i would also like to know. answer the group chat

yourusername woah what's that? sorry can't hear you over the fireworks!!

logansargeant 😐

user can i be your new years kiss🤩

maxverstappen1 no.

user i swear they have been secretly married for years and they are playing a prank on us

charles_leclerc why would you say this

.

[emphistic]

Forget-me-nots

A/N: call me Nick Cannon the way im out here rawdogging this fever

<- Series m.list

“Hey, babe,” you said, catching Sukuna by surprise. You placed your hands on the back of his gaming chair, “I’m gonna go on a walk. D’you wanna come with?”

“I’d rather go for a run, but God knows your slow ass wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Sukuna removed his headset and placed it on his desk, before following you out of the room.

If he had kept his headset on for just a little longer, Sukuna would’ve heard the protests and complaints of Gojo. The white-haired man was utterly disappointed at Sukuna for leaving in the middle of a game, who was going to carry him now that Sukuna was gone?

Sukuna looked you up and down, watching you as you put on your shoes, and let out a scoff, getting your attention. “You’re forgetting something.”

You met his gaze, “Uh huh, go on.”

“A jacket, dumbass. A jacket.”

You waved your hand around, dismissing his suggestion. “Don’t be silly, Sukuna. It doesn’t go with my outfit.”

“That so?” He raised a brow.

“Mhm.”

“It’s literally dark out, babe. Who are you trying to impress?”

The two of you continued on your way out of the complex without putting an end to your usual lighthearted banter. The sky was clear of clouds when you made it past the front doors; and cool air immediately hit your skin. Okay, maybe Sukuna wasn’t wrong in reminding you to layer up.

But, despite his demeanor on the exterior, Sukuna was far from cloud nine. Was that selfish of him? To truly have everything, and yet, still want more? He managed to get himself a loving girlfriend, not to mention, one that was exceptionally beautiful, both on the inside and outside. He should be content; he should be satisfied. But how could he? When guilt gnawed at him every second, every minute, every hour?

Sukuna was afraid, deathly. 

He could tell you about the bet, but it was inevitable that you would leave him right after. Or, he could choose to keep silent about the bet for the rest of his life. But that would mean Naoya Zen’in having a leg up on him, and that was no good.

Sukuna couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at your face, admiring your elated expression. He liked the sound of your voice, and hearing you laugh. The thought of you being gone plagued his mind, and he knew he would be a dead man walking if that nightmare became true.

Things truly could not be worse for the pink-haired man, who felt utterly pathetic. He felt vulnerable, and weak. Completely opposite of the image most people portrayed him as. Which is quite amusing, to say the least.

Sukuna was at a crossroad, but it was clear he wasn’t choosing either path. Maybe it was the worst choice, maybe it was the best choice, but Sukuna knew that doing nothing was probably the most impactful choice, and so he decided to let God play out his fate, leaving him to wait day and night, never knowing when you would find out and his world would flip upside down.

To bet something is to “risk something, usually a sum of money, against someone else’s on the basis of the outcome of a future event, such as the result of a race or game.” Sukuna knew that, when he was drunk at that damned party. Sukuna knew that, when he signed up for this. Sukuna knew; he wasn’t stupid; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.

“—Nobara was telling me, after the party, about my . . . complexion, or, I don’t know. My skin was apparently glowing—”

“Are you a virgin or something?” Sukuna cut you off with a laugh, turning to look at you. And, not that he had any knowledge in the field, but, with the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the wind, and with the way the moonlight casted upon your face, illuminating your best features, you looked just like a cinematic masterpiece.

You gave him a pointed look, as if to say, You would know, and again, Sukuna laughed.

“It’s called afterglow, babe. Science-y stuff, I figured you would already know, but I guess not.”

“Can you go one second without being rude?”

“You’re funny; don’t get your hopes up too high,” Sukuna ruffled your hair as you both continued down the dimly lit street.

It was a quiet, peaceful night. There would usually be something happening a block away, maybe sirens in the distance, kids playing around and screaming, but there was not. Maybe that was a blessing, maybe that was a curse, but it left you and Sukuna both to your own thoughts, and that was comforting enough.

“Is everything okay? Did you have a long day?” you asked, breaking the overwhelming silence. You turned to look at Sukuna with worry written all over your expression.

Sukuna had been tense ever since he got home, like a heavy weight had been placed upon his shoulders. You thought it strange; your boyfriend was a carefree man. He was easygoing and laid back; he knew how to start up a conversation, get everyone’s mood up, but this. . . This wasn’t Sukuna.

Whenever you two went on walks or runs together, sure, there’s a silence, but it was never like. . . Like something was wrong. It was never like this.

“Hm? No, I’m fine. I just have a lot to think about, that’s all. Don’t worry for me, ‘kay?” Sukuna gave you a smile, but it only tightened the knot in your chest, your concern doing the opposite of diminishing.

Truth was, you didn’t know what to think. And if you had to be honest, you couldn’t say your mind hadn’t wandered to the idea of Sukuna being unsatisfied with your relationship. Was he upset with you? Did he think you too much? You shuddered just thinking about it.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna watched as your eyebrows furrowed, and you chewed at your bottom lip. It was a habit of yours — the latter, and Sukuna noticed you only gave in to it whenever you were anxious or deep in thought.

“Hey, I was thinking, how about we go out sometime?” asked Sukuna, out of the blue. 

You two hadn’t been on a date since the baseball game, and that was a while ago. Sukuna missed spending an entire day with you, and was desperate for something fun to take his mind off of the bet.

“You make it sound like we haven’t even kissed yet,” you covered your mouth, trying, but failing, to stifle a giggle.

“What else did you want me to say, huh?” Sukuna humored you, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to lift the tension.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Do you want to—,’ actually, I have no idea. How do you ask someone on a not-first date?”

“That’s a good question,” Sukuna added. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure.”

“Eh, whatever. Any other way is totally better than yours.”

“Now who’s the rude one, hm? Do you want to go on that date or what?”

You laughed, “I’m only teasing, ‘Kuna. Of course I do; I don’t even know why you’re asking.”

“It’s polite.”

“You? Polite? Hilarious.” You placed a hand on Sukuna’s arm, but he pulled away, feigning to be hurt by your words. But you knew he was just trying to joke around.

“Awh, baby, don’t be sad. How can I make it up to my handsome, handsome boyfriend?”

“You can’t.” Sukuna turned his head away from you, hiding his grin.

You didn’t take no for an answer, and stood on your tiptoes in order to plant a wet kiss on Sukuna’s cheek, even going as far to voice a Mwah! sound.

When Sukuna still didn’t look at you, you started to wonder if he was genuinely upset. But when he abruptly turned around to smash his lips on yours, all other thoughts in your head completely vanished and you melted in his arms. Placing your hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you kissed him back just as fervently.

One of Sukuna’s hands wandered down your middle to the small of your back and rested just above your behind.

With your boyfriend’s lips on yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and his murmuring of sweet nothings every now and then, all previous worries and concerns of yours were no match. Maybe everything was fine, after all.

-

“You look good,” Sukuna said, a sultry look in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out.

You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks, “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He shrugged, “I try.”

“So, where are we headed?” You asked, immediately after entering your boyfriend’s car.

Sukuna hadn’t told you anything since he asked you out. Only thing he said was, “Look pretty for me, like you always do, and bring a jacket or something.” But since he knew there was no way in hell you were going to listen to that last bit, he already knew he was giving you his hoodie if you needed it.

“Ah, you wouldn’t know,” said Sukuna, as he started driving down the road.

“Oh, yeah? What, you gonna drive me to a secluded area and chop off my head or something? Is that why you’re being so lowkey about all of this?”

“Would you like that?” Sukuna quipped, turning to look at you as he pulled up to a red light.

You laughed, “I don’t know; I haven’t tried it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

It wasn’t long till Sukuna and you arrived at a crowded space overshadowed by the large buildings beside it. Said space was filled from corner to corner with food vendors and other small shops selling trinkets, clothes, toys, et cetera. There was music booming from speakers located all around, and the air smelled like a variety of food that had you salivating on the spot. Not to mention, the beautiful array of string lights above all the stalls, giving an authentic sense and feel to things.

Families, friends, couples, and individuals walked through the streets of the area. Carrying toys that lit up or made music with a simple click of a button, holding small paper plates stacked with food, bargaining prices of intricate garments, or simply conversing with their companions. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, gossip, jokes, whispers.

The exciting, fun-filled atmosphere of the place was surely popular among its customers. And, even taking one look at it all, you knew you were bound to have endless entertainment and enjoyment here, tonight.

“What do you think?” Sukuna asked, noticing you had gone quiet. His voice was barely above a whisper, saddened by the idea of you hating it. He thought you might’ve liked something like this, that’s why he picked this place. But maybe his judgment was—

“It’s—I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful, and the food smells amazing,” you smiled, looking at Sukuna.

Unbeknownst to you, the pink-haired man let out a sigh of relief upon hearing your answer.

“I used to go here all the time with Yuuji back when we were little; he loved the oyakodon. I don’t know if they still have the same one he preferred.”

“We should take a picture, babe. Make him jealous that we’re having a better dinner than him.”

Sukuna laughed, “You’re starting to sound like me. I think I’m rubbing off on you, squirt.”

“It’s only payback since he ate the last of my Häagen-Dazs. I was saving it,” you grumbled, still holding a grudge about the distant memory.

“Sure, sure.”

Sukuna snaked an arm around your waist, directing you to a red, striped stall. Smoke flying from the back of it as people fried and cooked and did whatever. “Jakoten?” he suggested.

“Obviously.”

If there was one thing you learned while being with Sukuna, it was that he was an eater. He wasn’t picky, no, quite the opposite, really. He could eat literally anything he got his hands on. Sukuna had a strict diet — being an athlete and all that — but he had his off days, where he could eat anything he pleased.

And, although you are a little less “wild” compared to him, you two often shared interest in the same dishes. Like jakoten, for example. But that’s a simple one, most people like it, so that’s not much good of an instance.

Sukuna and you waited near the front of the food stand, and when it was time and your order came out, Sukuna helped put a cupped hand under your chin, catching all of the tiny crumbs in his palm.

“Good, right?”

Your reply came muffled, as you chewed on the fried fish paste. “Mhm.”

“Where do you want to go next?” Jakoten was delicious, Sukuna couldn’t deny it, but you would be wrong if you thought that was enough to satisfy his hunger.

“Hm, we should go and see if they have tonkatsu. I’m kinda hungry for a main dish now.”

Together, you and Sukuna walked hand in hand around the people-filled space, seeking out different meals to try. Contrary to your main mission — finding a filling dish, you and Sukuna both had your fair share of small appetizers and sweet treats. When you two decided unanimously to find a table to sit down at and enjoy your dinner, you weren’t aware of how difficult of a journey that was.

To say the place was packed was an understatement, and most people didn’t even try to find seats, instead opting to stand and walk the whole time. After getting hundreds of steps in just to come out fruitless, you and Sukuna gave up on even the idea of sitting down.

“You know, I was thinking,” you began, while picking at the greens on your plate, “we should totally get a bowl of noodles, and recreate that scene from Lady and the Tramp.”

“We totally should not.” Sukuna shook his head, an unamused look on his face as he bit into a Japanese type of skewered chicken.

“C’mon, it’ll be cute. And, and, we would get to kiss,” you pursued.

“Is kissing you supposed to tempt me?”

“I—How dare you; you know what, don’t talk to me.” You turned away from a laughing Sukuna.

“Aw, sweetheart, I was just joking. ‘sides, who would pay for your food if you walked away from me?”

You turned back around.

Pleased with himself — having gotten your attention back, Sukuna gave a boyish smile, “That’s more like it,” before swinging an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling, “Don’t, ‘Kuna. You’re going to make me drop my food.”

“So cold. Your boyfriend’s giving you kisses and you tell him to stop? That’s a new low, even for you,” Sukuna feigned a hurt tone, but remained smiling all the while.

“Mm, yeah. Sulk all you want, you were the one who refused my kisses first. Don’t you dare forget.”

“You’re really never going to let that go, are you? Ah, I know, would this,” he pulled out a wad of cash, “change your mind?”

Sukuna had seen you eyeing a ramune-selling vendor ever since the both of you arrived. Of course, after being around you for so long, he was quick to learn that ramune was one of your weak spots. You were a fiend for anything sweet, after all. And the popular carbonated drink was perfect for the current weather.

Seeing your eyes widen to saucers, Sukuna knew he had won you over.

“Just, get me one, too, alright? You’re not the only thirsty person here.”

As you began to walk in the direction of the stand, Sukuna abruptly pulled you back, “Actually . . . they might have soju, so get me a cup of that instead. You know the kind I like.” And with that — and a final kiss to your cheek, Sukuna sent you off.

It didn’t take very long to acquire your drinks, as the line was pretty short seeing as most people were starting to leave the area considering the late time. On the other hand, it did take you a fairly drawn-out amount of time to find Sukuna. For he wasn’t in the same place he was before; Sukuna was now standing in a much more secluded area. And, he wasn’t alone, either.

The blond dude, who hosted that party, was standing in front of a very tense-looking Sukuna. To passersby and the naked eye, the two men might look like they were simply a pair of friends conversing. But to you, you noticed Sukuna’s clenched jaw. You noticed his arms, crossed over his chest. You noticed his eyes, usually holding a light to them, were dark, and Sukuna was glowering.

You assumed they started talking a little while after you left Sukuna to go shopping, and, as strong as your morals were, you couldn’t help but listen in to their conversation.

“—I’m surprised, I didn’t foresee a chance to meet you tonight, captain. And, another date? You’re really scoring, aren’t you? Though, I can’t say I expected less from the Ryomen.”

“Look, Zen’in, I told you — a million times, actually, I’m done playing this stupid game of yours. Grow up, or, better yet, find something else to entertain your fucked up brain.”

“Woah, didn’t mean to hit a nerve there. I was just about to ask — since we’re already here — if you wanted your cash now, or later. Wouldn’t want to intrude on your little date.” Naoya let out a low laugh, “You know, you’re really starting to drain my bank account. First kiss, two dates, and you fucked her? Man, you’ve outdone yourself.”

With each sentence that man spoke, your jaw only dropped lower and lower. Your chest tightened, and it felt unbearably suffocating to breathe. Tears threatened to spill at any second, but you still weren’t sure if Naoya was lying, and making all of this up. 

God, let this be just a nightmare.

Sukuna couldn’t have. . . Sukuna wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do something like that to you, right? He wouldn’t use someone, all for a silly bet.

Heat rose to your face, as emotions bottled up inside of you. You didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Sad? Betrayed?

When the blond noticed you standing only a few feet away, and snickered, “Whoops, looks like I am interrupting something.”

Naoya flashed you a fake smile, before turning back to Sukuna, “Take care, Ryomen.” He pressed multiple hundred dollar bills onto the pink-haired man’s hand, and took his leave.

Sukuna hadn’t noticed you before Naoya said something, and when he saw your face, hurt written all over your features, his eyes softened. He tried to take a step forward, but with every step he took, you took two backwards.

“Sukuna, I—I don’t even know what to say to you,” your voice cracked, and Sukuna swore his heart shattered right then and there at the look on your face. “Is it true? — the things he said?”

It pained Sukuna, to see you hold out hope. Hope for him. Hope for your relationship. He was undeserving of such grace to be bestowed upon him, and couldn’t say anything but, “I’m sorry.”

Your expression morphed into that of confusion, and then into one of frustration and anger. You couldn’t believe Sukuna just threw away everything you two had, shared, dreamed of, all for some money and a stupid bet.

“Was nothing we had real to you? Was everything just a big ole lie you fed me so that you could see some more zeros at the end of your already large enough fortune? . . .Sukuna, answer me.”

Your voice got softer as you spoke, till it was just above a whisper. Your breathing was uneven, and came in gasps. This was all too much for you to wrap your head around. 

“I trusted you, I gave you everything. You saw me vulnerable, you saw me naked, you . . . you—” You weren’t even aware when it started, but tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point, and even wiping them away with your sleeve didn’t help.

All the while, the man who brought you so much joy, and now, so much pain, could do nothing but stare back at you in silence. His eyes were empty, the light gone. The man you loved, gone. Sukuna didn’t try and defend his stupidity, he had no reason to. He was in the wrong, and was — rightfully so — being berated for his doings. Sukuna loved you, but pride was a much stronger feeling than love.

“I thought you changed, Sukuna. I thought you matured, and grew up, and learned, but . . . God, I was so wrong. You’re nothing different than the boy who tormented me in high school, aren’t you. But, I don’t understand. . . What did I do to you? What did I do for you to—to treat me like this? You willingly accepted to be paid to take me out?”

“Was I not enough for you, Ryomen? That you felt the need to be rewarded for staying with me?” Your voice was so, so soft; it sent a pang through Sukuna’s heart.

In your eyes, Sukuna now looked so different, after having learned what you did. He was really nothing but a man. A man whose pride and dignity and ego took the best, and worst, of him.

“I can’t believe I even trusted you. But, you know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you think of me. It doesn’t matter what I did. Anything regarding you doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

You’re not sure what took over you at that very moment, but you do know that throwing a drink at a man does contribute to getting your emotions out. “There, you can have your soju, you can have your money, you can have whatever you want. Good bye, Ryomen. And good fucking night.”

You had no way home; Sukuna was the one who drove you two here, and you both knew that. But you didn’t care. As long as you got away from that man you would be okay. You would be okay. . .

At that very moment, after seeing you storm away from him, and into the crowds of people — who appeared shocked to see a woman with mascara running down her cheeks, — Sukuna understood the term ‘significant other’. He realized you were his other half. You completed him. But now. . . You were gone, disappeared, left — forever, if he didn’t do something about it. Sukuna wasn’t whole. Hell, he wasn’t even half. He was nothing, nothing without you.

It wasn’t like Sukuna to cry; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.

As the days went on, Sukuna couldn’t have been more stupid as to think you would talk with him after a week’s time, and that everything would go back to normal. He wanted this to be a nightmare. But oh, how wrong he was. For days upon days upon days, you greeted him with nothing but silence.

You blocked him on all social media, you premeditated routes to avoid him on campus, you deleted his number, you did everything to erase the face of the man whom you called the love of your life from your mind. The both of you went from texting or calling each other almost every night to complete radio silence. It drove Sukuna to the brink of insanity.

-

“—I’m just saying, you should go tell her you’re sorry. I mean, that was a really fucked up thing to do. And, even coming from you, I’m surprised.” Yuuji popped another potato chip into his mouth as he lounged on his older brother’s sofa.

“Don’t you think I’ve done that already? She hates my guts, Yuuji, and—and I don’t blame her but. . . Right now, she thinks I’m a dickhead who just used her for money. But that’s totally not true.”

Yuuji raised a brow, as if to say, Are you sure about that? And Sukuna sighed, plopping down beside his brother.

“Okay, I’ll admit, I technically was using her, but only at the very beginning, but everything after our first phone call was real, genuine. I didn’t get into this whole bet thing to hurt her, I was just trying to prove Naoya’s bitchass wrong and maybe make his wallet lighter at the same time. . . I really, really love her, Yuu—”

“Y’know, I’m not a big fan of listening to your drama-filled life, but I’m also not very keen on hearing you be a sap.”

Sukuna, outright ignoring his brother, continued on with his speech anyway, “God, this might be the most stupid thing I’ve ever done.” He ran a hand down his face, exasperated.

“It is.”

Sukuna shot him a pointed look, and the younger boy only shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, dude, I’m pretty sure your girl broke things off permanently. Besides, there’s not much you can do to redeem yourself, anyway. Betting on a relationship is a pretty shitty move.”

“Do I look like I don’t know that?” Sukuna grumbled, stealing a handful of chips from Yuuji’s bowl.

“Well, you could’ve at least explained yourself while you had the chance, instead of just saying you’re sorry. I mean, poor girl, you faked a relationship with her and that’s all she knows.”

Sukuna — deep in thought, held his head in his hands.

“I’m sure if you tried to give an explanation she would at least hear you out. Eh, it might not even be too late to get her a bouquet or something. Whaddya know, I heard girls liked those kinds of things, when you get them their favorite flower and stuff.”

Yuuji paused, “You do know her favorite flower, right?”

“. . .”

“Man, I’m an optimistic person at heart, but this is just. . . You might be a lost cause, ‘Kuna.”

-

Sukuna had a lot of hope. Key word: had. As in, used to have.

Attempt no1:

They say Forget-me-nots (also referred to as Scorpion Grasses) represent true love, and respect or, at least, something of the like. But, the flower also — when gifted to someone — symbolizes that you’ll always hold them in your heart and in your thoughts and in your mind. The flower could additionally be interpreted to suggest fidelity, and being truthful, genuine, to someone you love. 

Now, Sukuna knew you were smart. And he never doubted that fact, despite all of his previous teasing and joking of that. But he had never wished for someone to have knowledge about the meanings of flowers more than he has at this very moment.

It’s funny, one can laugh, but it’s true that Sukuna spent countless hours researching different flowers and their archaic all the way to their modern meanings just so he could prove maybe he wasn’t that much of a dick, after all.

But maybe, he should’ve put a little more effort into the planning of his execution rather than the organizing part of it.

Sukuna knew you were avoiding him, even going as far as changing your daily routes to classes even if it meant walking farther distances. He was more impressed than offended at how dedicated you were to the whole “Never-Seeing-His-Face-Again” bit.

There really wasn’t much he could do to be able to see you in person, since you blocked all contact with him, but . . . Sukuna did happen to think of one way he could meet up with you.

While he may not have been the best boyfriend, Sukuna was still . . . decent, sorta, if you put aside the whole bet crisis. And, even if he couldn’t remember the purpose of your Student Council meetings, he did remember the directions to where your briefings took place. Call him a stalker or serial killer or whatever, it doesn’t change the fact he drove you to and from those damned meetings.

Pacing to and fro outside of a library was already strange enough; being covered in tattoos and having pink hair did not help with the amount of stares Sukuna received, but right now, he couldn’t care less. Sukuna gripped the bouquet of Forget-me-nots — and other flowers, but it was mainly filled with Forget-me-nots, like his life depended on it.

He went over his speech — that he had previously practiced with Yuuji the night before — over a hundred times in his head. But when he suddenly heard you call out his name out of confusion, all that he managed out was a plethora of garbled “I’m sorry’s” and “Please’s.”

“Sukuna? What—what are you doing here?” you asked, bewilderment written all over your features as your eyes wandered down to the enormous bouquet in his hands. Being greeted by your ex-boyfriend right after finishing a meeting was not on today’s Bingo card for you.

“I—I know the other night was . . . a mess,” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck, “but I didn’t get to explain myself and—”

“No, it’s okay, you have nothing to explain. Everything was a lie; everything you said was a lie; everything we did was a lie. See? I get it; no need for your clarification.” You shook your head, and began walking down the street to your next destination.

Even after knowing Sukuna for so long, you were a fool for thinking you could “outwalk” him. The male had no intention of letting you leave without you hearing him out first, and he was able to catch up to you within just a few strides.

“Can you just let me talk? For a second?”

You quickened your pace, trying your hardest to get him off your tail, but he just wouldn’t budge. Doesn’t this count as harassment?

“There’s nothing for you to say, Sukuna; I’m not wasting my time with you on this.”

Sukuna murmured your name, “Please, there’s more to the story than you think. I didn’t accept the bet to hurt you, I. . .” His voice trailed off as he wondered what to do next, but he suddenly remembered the bouquet and shoved it into your arms.

“What is this?” Your face morphed into one of incertitude, your voice softening as you examined the bouquet, but still, your pace never slowed.

“Special flowers, for a special girl.”

You rolled your eyes, again, quickening your pace; you were now speed walking while holding a comically large bouquet. Sukuna was finally not the only one being stared at, though he didn’t revel much in that fact.

“Don’t say that. You know we’re not together anymore; we’re over. Are you ever going to get that through your skull?” You finally stopped in your tracks, and turned to look at Sukuna — half because you were out of breath from walking so fast and half because you wanted to see the expression on his face.

“We don’t have to be; c’mon, I want to make things right—”

“Sukuna! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” A high pitched voice called out, out of the blue.

You both turned your heads to see who it came from.

“You never texted me after I gave you my number last week. Don’t tell me you’re shy; there’s nothing scary about this girl,” the short brunette giggled.

In truth, Sukuna had no idea who this was. Probably just some rando who hit on him after seeing him play basketball.

“Lady, I don’t even remember your name—”

But the girl had already caught up with Sukuna and looped her arm around his, acting all friendly and whatnot. Sukuna looked at you for help, but you merely scoffed, amused with the sight, “You shouldn’t have to make things right in the first place. You chose this, don’t you remember?”

Exhaling, you turned on your heel and walked away.

-

 “Nobs, I think I might take a break from the dating scene, for a while. I mean, I’ve only recently begun to be able to look at Sukuna’s face without breaking down in tears.” While you tried to appear better off, your voice gave it all away. You weren’t completely over him yet.

“But, you’re hot; you’re young. This could be the perfect opportunity for you to make Sukuna regret losing you.” Nobara tried her hardest to get you to go to this party with her; she knew about your recent breakup, of course, but she was apparently too scared to go on her own, since Maki was unavailable.

“If Sukuna’s going that just gives me all the more reason to not go,” you stopped shoving ice cream in your mouth for a second to really get your point across.

Nobara sprawled across your bedroom floor, miserable, but not as miserable as you. She started thinking about not going to the party after all, but she had been looking forward to it all week! Ugh, going alone is the most “Loser thing” ever.

You paused your eating, and thought to yourself, If Sukuna’s really desperate to explain to me and apologize, he must be in his feelings, so he probably won’t go to the party.

“Ah, you know what, maybe I can go to that party, after all—”

“Really? Oh, my God! Yes!” Nobara immediately jumped up from the floor and threw her arms around you, trapping you in a hug.

“I’m still stuck on why you’re so happy. I seriously do not get what’s so great about this party.”

“Everything, duh.”

“Whose house is this, again?” you asked, once you and Nobara pulled up at the address you put into the GPS.

“Uh, dunno. I’m pretty sure Yuuji does, though; he got me the invite.”

At the mention of his name, your mind immediately went to his brother. Which was your first mistake, since tonight was supposed to be fun, and help you forget about everything that went down.

“Oh, so they’re in the same year as us, then?”

“Mm, probably. C’mon, what are you stalling for, let’s party!” Nobara dragged you out of the car and continued dragging you until you both arrived in front of the door.

Upon entering, you noticed the house was . . . nice — definitely not a mansion, unlike someone else’s, but it was the size of a typical “party house”. It looked sorta old, but it wasn’t rundown, so maybe people just used it a lot for large gatherings like this.

Did you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven? No. Were your protests overlooked? Of course. Did you sit down in the circle? Yes. Yes, you did. This was now your second time playing the game, and your opinion of it hadn’t changed at all. Being surrounded by drunk or high college kids instantly soured your mood, and you almost regretted agreeing to join Nobara.

A brunette girl, whom you recognized as the girl from yesterday, spun the bottle first, and the game commenced. What’s different about this house is that it has multiple closets, so the game progressed pretty quickly, with several couples being in their  respective closets at once.

When it came down to your turn, you spun the bottle, though, not without some hesitancy, at first.

1 . . .

2 . . .

3 . . .

The empty bottle went around the circle three times before it landed on . . . Sukuna? What the fuck? You hadn’t even noticed he was here. This happened last time, too. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this game? Is it cursed or something? God.

There was visible and audible shock amongst the crowd.

“Didn’t this happen at Naoya’s party?”

“Yeah, it did!”

“That’s crazy.”

-

“Look, I know this might not be the best situation to say this but—”

Despite your misgivings about doing so, you went in the closet with Sukuna anyway. And after locking the door behind him, Sukuna turned to you with a desperate look on his face.

Attempt no2:

“I’m giving you seven minutes, because that’s all the time we have in here anyway and also because I’m bored and curious as to what you think is a valid apology.”

“Okay, that’s—that’s enough for me. . . I know — that from the moment we met, it started off bad. Beyond bad. Horrible, even. But I want to make things right between us. Because, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And, I fucked things up. I followed through with Naoya’s bet when I was drunk and out of my mind. I should’ve ended it the next day but I didn’t; I wanted to prove to Naoya I could take you out. Because . . . I’ve liked you for a long time, probably since high school, even. And I know I never expressed that in a good way, but that’s only because I never realized it myself. So, seeing him just dangle the money in front of me, I just—I just thought of the money as a nice ‘incentive’ or something.”

“That’s a weird thing to think.”

“Yeah, I know. And I was stupid to think that that justified what I was doing. But, everything after our first phone call was real, I swear. Nothing we did together was fake or me just using you to get money. But, I won’t deny that that doesn’t change the fact I was an asshole—”

“You are an asshole.”

“Okay, that I will admit. Yes, I’m an asshole. But, I’m sorry. I’m a sorry asshole. Heh.”

“Did you just laugh at your own joke?”

“I—uh—” Sukuna took in a deep breath, “I know you could have as many me’s in your life, and hate them all the same. But I’ll only ever have one you. And that’s all I need. So please, I won’t ask for you to take me back; I don’t deserve that, but please, I just want you to hear me out. 

“You can punch me, kick me, block my number and delete it, but please, don’t ignore what I’m saying to you right now. Know that I’m sorry — though sorry doesn’t quite cut it, but please know. Know that I love you. Know that I’m completely devoted to you. Know that I will kiss the ground with which you walk upon. Know that I love you, for fuck’s sake, and will wait for you to accept that — you don’t have to love me too, just accept that I love you. Please, know.”

Sukuna’s voice was soft as he spoke with such earnestness you almost wanted to feel guilty. You knew what he did was unforgivable. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel as if you wanted to just forget all that had happened and go back to how things used to be between you two.

You would be a terrible liar to say you hadn’t missed Sukuna, and although he was a stupid asshole, his words proved he did nothing with ill intention. He agreed to the bet because that was the extra push he needed to be able to ask you out. He couldn’t have done it by himself, out of fear or anxiety or whatever. It was an impossible thought — the idea of Ryomen Sukuna being scared of rejection, but nobody was superhuman. Everyone has emotions.

Speaking of which, maybe it was an emotional choice to take a step forward. Maybe it was an illogical choice to finally meet Sukuna’s eyes since you two entered the closet. Maybe it was an impulsive choice to wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug, with your head resting on his chest. But, either way, you felt it was the right choice.

At first, Sukuna was tense, surprised at the sudden embrace. But, he remembered it was one he longed for, ever since that fateful night, and it didn’t take long for him to return the hug, wrapping his arms around your torso.

Through silent, unspoken words only the both of you shared and understood, you two basked in the moment of finally getting your love back. Sukuna had more words to say than he could speak. You had more feelings to share than you could show. The time you two spent apart was excruciatingly and regretfully (on your part) long.

On both sides there was an absence of something fundamental; whatever you two built while together was gone. But now? There’s not much to be said except for the light returning to those crimson eyes that you so loved.

It’s enigmatic; you don’t know what possessed you to speak up — your voice muffled due to burying your face in Sukuna’s chest. But you knew it was partially because of how long you spent bottling up your emotions: anger, sadness, regret, longing. All for one man, and one man only.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate your stupid brain, that managed to apologize whilst using math as metaphors. I hate your dumb smile, which still stuns me even after everything. I hate your annoying voice, which is the only thing I can fall asleep to. I hate your hair, which stands out in every crowd I enter to avoid you. 

“I hate your motorcycle, which even the rational part of my mind still imagines hearing the engine of. I hate your hands, which I undeniably long to feel in my hair. I hate your way of talking to me, which I can never get bored of, no matter how hard I try. I hate when you lie your way out of the littlest of things. I hate when you’re not around, and I have no one to tell me jokes that don’t even make sense. I hate that you think you can just win me over because you got me flowers knowing they have a specific meaning. 

“I hate that I hate you. I hate that I still love you.”

Hearing you sob your heart out while laying everything bare for him, Sukuna couldn’t help but place a kiss on your crown, burying his nose in your hair. After all, Sukuna had a feeling you were just listing parts of him you loved. But either way, he didn’t mind. This was simply the start of everything reverting back to normal, something both you and Sukuna longed for. And, —

In the end,

Sukuna didn’t want anything. He wanted everything. He wanted you. (you were his everything.)

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒

A/N: Thanks for all the love and support I’ve received on this series!!, it was definitely a pain to finish and every one of your comments and reblogs and likes definitely helped me get through writing this <3

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lordbrainsnatcherr @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura @xiraxdl @sterzin @catobsessedlady @alwaysfreakingout @uhnanix @ssetsuka @wrldtups @lovra974 @rzcnlb @piercddprincess @satoru2716 @bananaminn @tomiokasecretlover @bigraga-sk @villainsevilandhot @5seos

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗. (4)

mom's fiancé! joel miller x f! reader • series masterlist

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

Tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, betrayal, talk about divorce, talk about not wanting a child, ANGSTTTT, (marjorie being a mean bitch but also a great plot device!), trauma!!! reader has daddy issues, but dont quote me on that.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ im baaack !! the second to last part is here!! how do we feel so far? IT'S GOING DOWN!! one more chapter, and we will find out if anyone will get a happy ending. who knows.. maybe we'll make a spinoff of this? anyway, this is 3.37k words, so the shortest of the bunch butbi didn't want to add unnecessary smut :') HOPE YOU LOVE IT! not proofread soo if you anything spelled wrong umm close your eyes.

“Glad you could make it,” Marjorie said, closing the door behind you. “I thought we could have a little chat.”

“What do you want? was it really necessary for us to come here?” Joel asked, his tone edged with irritation. "Wouldn't want more people to see us now, right?" She leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms. “I think you both know exactly what I want." You exchanged a worried glance with Joel, trying to gauge how serious she was. “What are youㅡ?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. Marjorie pushed off the counter and walked towards you, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “I want you to share him for a bit." she said bluntly, a cruel smile twisting her lips. “You’ve had your fun, but it’s time to let the grown-ups play too. Besides, it’s only fair, isn’t it? After all, we can't let your mom find out about you two..." Your heart sank. “You can’t be serious,” you said, laughing as disbelief washed over you. “Oh, I’m very serious. If you want to keep this little affair of yours a secret, you’ll have to comply with my terms. I’ll tell your mother everything if you don’t.”

“Why would you do this?” Joel’s voice was low, but you could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface. “Because it’s fun, Joel. Because I can. And because your little fling is just that—a fling. I want you back, and I’m not above playing dirty to get what I want.” You felt sick, caught in the middle of a game you never wanted to play. “This isn’t fair,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Life’s not fair, sweetie,” Marjorie shot back. “You should know that by now.”

Joel stepped in front of you, a protective stance that made your heart swell and ache at the same time. “You don’t have to do this. You could just walk away, Marjorie. You’re better than this.” She laughed, a sound that was anything but lighthearted. “Better? Oh, darling, I’m far from better. I’m just getting started. So, that's the deal. You decide now.”

You felt the world around you spin as Marjorie’s words sunk into you like a bullet. “You’re a terrible friend,” you spat, rage and hurt flooding through you. “Your mother is the one who’s a bad friend,” Marjorie retorted, her eyes narrowing. “She knew how I felt about Joel. She knew we were together all those years ago. And yet, she had the audacity to marry him anyway.” Tears burned at your eyes as her words cut deep. “You’re just bitter because he moved on,” you accused.

“Bitter? Maybe. But I’m also vindictive. You’re standing in my way, and I don’t like it.” Joel’s hand squeezed yours tightly, and you could feel the tension. "Oh, so that's the only thing keeping you away? the fact that I am with him and not that he's your best friend's husband?"

"Didn't stop you, honey. And she's your mom." As Marjorie’s laughter echoed around the room, a twisted sense of triumph in her eyes, you felt the walls closing in on you. She was ready to play this game to the bitter end, and the stakes were too high. “Fine,” you said suddenly, surprising both Joel and yourself. “I’ll think about it.”

Marjorie’s expression turned sly. “Good. You have until tomorrow. Make your decision, and let me know. I’ll be waiting.”

On your way back home, the car ride was silent. You turned to Joel, his face a mask of frustration. "What now?" You finally speak up. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised, but the doubt lingered in his eyes. The gravity of the situation bore down more intensely than ever before.

When you got home, the air felt suffocating and so cold at the same time. Your mother had gone to bed early, and joel decided to spend the night at his apartment, closer to where he worksㅡ again. the stillness of the house was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within you. You wanted to scream, cry, and run away from everything that was happening. But instead, you collapsed onto your bed, staring at the ceiling as the reality of your situation washed over you.

The next morning brought with it a sense of impending doom. You felt like you were walking on a tightrope, and the slightest misstep could send you tumbling into chaos. Your mother chatted about her plans for the day, seemingly oblivious to it allㅡ her daughter was fucking her husband. But you couldn’t focus on her words; all you could think about was Marjorie and the ultimatum she had laid before you.

As the day wore on, the burden of your decision weighed heavily on your chest. You knew you couldn’t keep Joel, your mom and Marjorie happy without sacrificing something monumental. The thought of losing Joel made your heart ache, but so did the thought of being betrayed by your own mother. Hours passed, and by the time your mother left for a gathering with her friends from work, you felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap. “I’ll be back late, sweetheart,” she called over her shoulder, and for a moment, you felt that flicker of guilt in your very sould again.

With the house empty, you sank into the couch, pulling out your phone and staring at it, waiting for Joel to text. The minutes turned into hours, and just as doubt began to creep in, your phone buzzed, a message from him lighting up the screen.

• Meet me at our spot?

Your heart raced, and you felt a surge of trepidation.

• I’ll be there.

You arrived at the secluded spot by the river, where the world felt far away. Joel was already waiting, leaning against his truck, the setting sun casting a warm glow on his rugged features. When he saw you, a relieved smile broke across his face. “Hey, you,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted against him instantly, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, pulling back to look into his eyes. “Marjorie is insane...”

but maybe so were you.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said, voice steady. “I won’t let her hurt you. We’ll figure this out together.” But even as he spoke, you could see the doubt flickering in his eyes. “She wants me to share you with her, Joel, what the actual fuck?" you whispered, the words feeling heavy and bitter on your tongue. “She can’t have you. You’re mine.” But then reality crashed in, and you felt the tears prick at your eyes. “What if she really tells mom?” you asked, desperation threading through your voice.

“Then we’ll deal with it. Together.” his hands were cupping your face, thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “I love you. You know that, right? No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere, baby." but the words felt hollow. “What if this is all my fault?”

“It’s not,” he insisted, his grip firm, eyes fierce. “We’re not doing anything wrong. We love each other. That’s what matters. ain't nothin' wrong with lonving somebody."

yeah, your mom's husband.

You wanted to believe him, to let those words wash away the doubts, but all was a threat and it loomed large, an insidious whisper in the back of your mind, reminding you that love alone might not be enough to shield you from the consequences of your actions. "Mom wouldn’tㅡ she will not understand, Joel. She’ll be devastated.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said again, his voice firm, but you could sense the uncertainty lingering beneath the surface. “We can go to her together and explain it all. You’re everything to me, baby, you know that. this is just a lessonㅡ people will always try and come between us.” Just like you came between him and your mom.

You wanted to believe him, but fear clutched at your heart like a vice. “What if she gets angry and takes it out on you?” Even now, he was all you cared about. The thought was unbearable. “I can handle it,” he said, determination lighting his gaze. “No one is going to make me not love you, babygirl.”

Finally, you took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I have to go home.” His expression shifted, disappointment mingling with concern. “Are you sure? We can stay a little longer—”

“I have to think. About everything.”

maybe love won't save it all.

The walk home felt like a thousand miles, each step heavy with dread. You replayed everything in your mind. was it really worth it? Was Joel worth it? Was your mom worth it?

the house was quiet, the only sound being the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. You slipped inside, the darkness wrapping around you like a shroud, and paused for a moment to collect your thoughts. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of the door opening. You froze, your heart racing as you turned to see your mother step inside, her face illuminated by the hallway light. She looked tired but happy, her laughter still lingering in the air as she made her way toward you.

“Oh, sweetheart! You’re back!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a warm embrace. You inhaled her familiar scent, a mixture of lavender and home, and felt a surge of guilt wash over you. “Hi, mom,” you said, your voice betraying the turmoil inside you. She smiled, but it faltered as she took a closer look at your expression. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I... it’s nothing,” you replied too quickly, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your mother’s brow furrowed in concern. “You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right, ladybug?” A lump formed in your throat, and you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Yeah, I know.”

This was it.

The moment where everything hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of no return. You knew what you had done was wrong—there was no denying it. No sugarcoating, no excuses. But as awful as your betrayal was, letting her find out from someone else, someone who wanted to hurt her for sport would be even worse. It would be cruel, cowardly, and the final twist of the knife. The only thing you could do now, the only thing that held even a shred of dignity or decency, was to take control of the narrative. To tell her the truth yourself. Not because it would fix anything—nothing could. but because it was the last way to show her respect. The last chance to do something for her that wasn’t tainted with deceit or manipulation.

You owed her that much. Even if she hated you forever, even if she never looked at you the same way again, it would come from you— not from Marjorie or anyone else who wanted to see her destroyed. You had already broken her heart, but you couldn’t let them shatter her spirit. Taking a deep breath, you steadied yourself. It felt impossible, like standing in front of a firing squad, but you had to do it. The power had to be yours. This was the only way to make sure she knew the truth wasn’t a weapon someone else could wield against her.

You looked at her. If you’re going to lose everything, at least lose it by owning what you did. Not by running away.

“Mom, can we talk?” The words rushed out before you could second-guess yourself. She turned, her expression now serious. “Of course, honey. What’s on your mind?” You hesitated. You wanted to tell her everything—about Joel, about Marjorie, about the love that was blossoming in the shadows. You had to. “Just... something.” You started biting your lip.

"Something?" she pressed, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of concern. She stepped closer, her eyes searching your face as if trying to read your thoughts. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” Your chest tightened, the truth pressing down on you like a boulder. “It’s about Joel,” you blurted out, unable to stop the words from spilling over. Her face stiffened at his name, her posture straightening. “What about Joel?” she asked, her tone sharper now. The air grew heavier with each passing second, the silence between you stretching like a chasm. "Did he do anything to you?" her worry was obvious.

"N-no..." You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “We’ve... been seeing each other.” The words were heavy and raw. Her face shifted, confusion and disbelief warring for dominance. “What do you mean ‘seeing each other’?” she asked with a laugh, though you knew she understood exactly what you meant. “I mean we’ve been... together,” you admitted. Her face twisted. “Together?” she repeated, the word snapping like a whip. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “Mom, I love him.” Her laughter was harsh, bitter. “You love him? Joel? My husband? Your stepdad?” Her voice cracked with fury and pain.

You hated to hear that. You hadn’t realized quite yet who he was to you. "He's not my dad, momㅡ"

“How long has this been going on?” she interjects. “Since... before the wedding,” you confessed, and the words hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, her hand flying to her chest. “Before the wedding?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “So you’ve been lying to me this entire time? Both of you?" Tears streaked her face, but they did nothing to soften the anger in her eyes. “How could you? How could heㅡ ?!” Her voice rose. "Is this some kind of sick fucking joke?" her voice cracking. "It's not a joke, Mom," you said, your voice trembling. "I didn't want this to happen, but it did. I—"

"Didn't want this to happen?" she cut you off, her eyes blazing. "You expect me to believe that? That it just... happened? His dick just fell into you, right? You betrayed me! My own daughter, with my fucking husband!" She threw her hands up, pacing the room like a caged animal, her anguish filling every corner. “You’ve destroyed everything—everything! How long have I been the fool, sitting at home, playing happy family while you... while you—”

“Stop it!” you shouted, your voice breaking. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?!” she snapped, whirling to face you. “You don’t think I understand betrayal? You don’t think I know what it feels like to be stabbed in the back by the two people who should love me the most?” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said desperately, tears spilling freely now. “But I love him, Mom. I love him.”

“You love him?” she echoed mockingly. “You love my husband? Do you even hear yourself? What kind of daughter—what kind of person does this?” The venom in her voice stung, but you couldn’t back down now. “I’m not proud of this,” you said, your voice quiet and steady. “But it’s the truth. I love him, and he loves me.” Your voice rises again. She stared at you in disbelief, her jaw tightening. “Loves you?” she spat, her tone dripping with scorn. “Is that what he told you? That he loves you? That this is some grand romance and not just another one of his selfish, disgusting whims?”

“Stop it,” you said quietly, but she pressed on, her anger building like a storm. “Do you even know him?” she hissed. “The real him? Or are you just blinded by whatever lies he’s been feeding you? He’s a liar, a manipulator, and now he’s turned my own goddamn daughter against me.”

“You don’t know anything about us!” you shot back, your voice rising to match hers. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever been hurt? The only one who’s ever felt unloved? You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” she interrupted, her voice rising to a shout. “What don’t I understand? That you’re selfish? That you’re reckless? That you’ve thrown away everything we had for... for him?” The words hit you like a slap, but they also ignited something inside you. “You don’t get to stand there and pretend you’re some kind of victim!” you yelled. “You’re not perfect, Mom! You’re not blameless!” Her face twisted in rage and pain. “So now this is my fault?” she demanded. “You’re blaming me for your choices? For his choices? You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m not blaming you,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion, as you were sobbing. “But you don’t get to act like you’re innocent either. You’ve pushed people away your whole life, and now you’re acting surprised that someone finally—"

“Stop,” she said coldly, her voice low but dangerous. “Don’t you dare try to twist this around. Don’t you dare try to justify what you’ve done.” The room fell silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke again, her voice quieter but no less filled with anger. “I gave you everything,” she said, her voice shaky. “I sacrificed everything for you. And this is how you repay me?”

“I know you didn’t want me,” you suddenly snapped, the years of buried hurt rising to the surface. “I always heard you fighting with Dad, saying I was your biggest mistake! Isn't that why dad left?" Her eyes widened, stunned by the shift in the conversation. “What?” she said, her voice barely audible. “I know,” you repeated, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. “I heard it all. I wasn’t deaf, Mom. I was a kid but i wasn't fucking stupid! I knew you never wanted me.”

Her face hardened, a mixture of guilt and defiance flashing across her features. “Of course, I didn’t fucking want you!” she shouted, the admission slicing through the air. “I was twenty years old! I didn’t want a kid, and guess what? I can’t change that! I can’t just grab you and shove you back into my fucking uterus, can I? But i didn't abandon you, Iㅡ"

“I already knew that,” you whispered, your voice hollow. “You didn’t know,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “You didn't know shit! You’re just trying to make me the bad guy so you can feel better about the awful, disgusting thing that you did.” The room seemed to pulse. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “But it did, and I can’t change it.” She shook her head, her hands trembling. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’ve destroyed everything. Our family. My marriage. Everything.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words feeling inadequate even as they left your lips. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t help how I feel.”

“You’re just like him,” she spat. “Selfish. Just like your fucking dad."

taglist ⭐️ ㅡ @eviispunk @joeldjarin @whimsiwitchy @guelyury @untamedheart81 @dollyxzy @mybvalentine @am-3-thyst @klajmekk @cuteanimalmama @corinnedollete @vickie5446 @gabymalikk

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 5)

cregan x reader

word count: 1,606 words

series masterlist

A private carriage. You thank the gods for small victories. Being locked in a small box for a month with nobody but Cregan Stark for company would’ve been the thing that pushed you over the edge of insanity. Or, you likely would have killed him.

Perhaps it was more his safety they are concerned over rather than my comfort. You think to yourself.

The preparations for your departure have been immensely extravagant and your mother has already commissioned ten new dresses and five nightgowns just to tie you over until the royal family flies in for the wedding. You’ll spend another whole month courting Cregan (in Winterfell this time) before the ceremony and you don’t know if you want the spectacle to be drawn out more to prolong your unmarried freedom or if you just want it to be over with.

You ignore the thoughts as you make your way down to the courtyard with Baela and Rhaena on each arm and Ser Robert trailing after you.

“I’m going to miss you awfully.” Rhaena says sentimentally. 

“You’ll have to write to me with every bit of court gossip. Gods know that the boys won’t do a very good job at keeping me filled in.” You roll your eyes dramatically, trying to keep it all lighthearted.

“You’ll write to us plenty as well, tell us all about the joys of marriage.” Baela says with a little smirk.

“I hardly believe there’ll be many joys to rave about.” You say with a scoff.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. From what i’ve heard, northern men are very good with… their tongues.” The elder twin says scandalously. You think you hear Ser Robert choke on water from behind you.

“Baela!” Rhaena scolds but she giggles too.

“I don’t want his tongue anywhere near me.” You say as you shoot her a glare.

“Then you are as dumb as you are pretty.” You roll your eyes at this.

“His assumed skills don’t matter if I do not like him.” You say primly.

“You don’t have to like him to appreciate the look of him.” Baela says as she lifts a hand to inspect her nails.

“I agree. You know what they say about men with large hands…” Rhaena trails off and you glare at her as well.

“Do not team up against me.” You say.

“We are only trying to help you to look on the bright side. You’ll be with him for the rest of your lives.” Rhaena says softly. It’s a thought that you don’t really want to think about.

“Perhaps after I give him a son, we will become estranged and he will allow me to retire to Dragonstone.” You reply wistfully. The twins exchange a look.

“And what of your son?” 

You sigh and say, “Any child I have will be his, not mine.”

“But they will also be Valyrians. They could be dragonriders. They will need a Valyrian to teach them.” Baela says. The idea of a child with a dragon, not knowing its history, not knowing how to care for it, is a sad thought.

“Motherhood is as noble a path as any.” Rhaena says, in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Not if it’s forced.”

There is an awkward silence after that and you feel bad, being the one who caused it. Your closest friends, your sisters, they only wanted to comfort you, to make you excited about the journey and you’ve made them feel bad for trying.

“I do quite like some of the dresses her Grace commissioned for me, though.” You say with a little grin and both of the girls light up.

“Oh yes, they’re all so beautiful. I don't know if I could even pick a favourite.” Rhaena gushes.

“I can.” Baela says. “The deep maroon velvet one. Ugh, the sleeves on it are to die for. It’s far too hot to be wearing such fashion in King’s Landing. We’d be sweltering.” Baela pouts a little at that but then grins. “You’ll be the icon of the North when it comes to gowns.”

“I intend to be the icon of the North when it comes to everything.” You say with a faux level of superiority as you come around to the stairs that go down to the courtyard.

There are many nobles waiting to see you off and Cregan Stark stands right at the front, waiting for you and looking as disgustingly handsome as ever. You ignore him and make your way to the ladies who won’t be accompanying you first, hugging them and trying not to tear up. You hope Cregan is offended by how you brush by him. Then, you reach your siblings. Your goodbyes to your family are short and proper, you’ll see them at the wedding anyhow. Your goodbye with your mother is… tense if nothing else. 

You turn to Cregan at this point, knowing that you need to have a public interaction before you get into your carriage. Even if you enjoy being the centre of attention, you don’t want to waste the creation of gossip if you’re not there to see how it all goes down.

Lord Stark bows deeply. “Princess, I am glad to be accompanying you to your new home.”

“I thank you for your protection on the long trip that lies ahead of us.” You say in response, your voice cordial and dripping with charisma. 

“It is my honour.” He holds out a hand and you take it, allowing him to help you up the steps, into the carriage. Your two handmaidens follow after you. When the door shuts, you sigh, ready for the long trip to be over already.

~~~

As the trip properly starts, you begin to remember how much you hate carriage rides. Short ones are usually fine but you’ve been sitting in the wheeled contraption for hours now and it's making you awfully dizzy.

“Your Grace? Are you well?” Rose, your handmaiden, speaks up. She looks concerned for your state.

“I am fine. I perhaps just need to rest for a moment.” You say, a bit breathlessly, as you shift to lay down, resting your head in your other handmaiden’s lap.

“Are you sure, princess? You look a little green.” Safia speaks up as she begins to stroke your hair.

“It’s this stupid carriage. And the road for seven hells. How can it be so uneven?” You groan and Safia starts to rub your temples.

“It is awful, I know.” She soothes but her kind words don’t help. You just feel more and more nauseous.

“Oh gods.” You groan.

“Princess, are you going to be sick?” Rose asks, and to your dismay, you believe you are about to be sick.

You nod a little and she stands, banging on the roof. “Stop the carriage!” She calls out to the driver.

Before you’re even fully stopped, Rose pushes open the door and Safia helps you to your feet. You stumble out of the carriage and unceremoniously, onto the grass. You fall to your hands and knees, breathing heavily. You thank the gods when you don’t actually throw up and the churning of your stomach begins to slow with the help of a stationary position and fresh air.

“What is happening? Is the princess alright?” 

Oh gods why does he have to see this? You think to yourself as the young Lord Stark’s voice rings through the air.

“The movement of the carriage makes her unwell, my lord.” Safia says.

“Oh of course.” He murmurs and wanders off for a moment. You feel hopeful that he just decided to leave you but he’s back before you know it and kneeling by your side. “Here, eat this.” He says and gives you a gentle smile as he holds out ginger for you.

“Why would I eat tha-” He seems to know that you were going to kick up a fuss so as you are mid-sentence, he puts the piece of ginger in your mouth.

“Chew.” He says simply. Your eyes are wide and you want to refuse but you also don’t necessarily want to spit it out like a spoiled child. So, you apprehensively begin to chew the root, trying not to make a face at the peppery flavour. “Good.” He speaks again. “You’ll feel better now.” You think he looks far too pleased as he stands up in front of you and offers you his hand. You begrudgingly take it and he pulls you up with so much ease that you hardly even had to try and stand.

You brush your skirts off, feeling spiteful even if Cregan just helped you.

He just looked far too smug about it. You assure yourself as you make your way back into your carriage. 

Before the door is closed, your betrothed speaks up, “Perhaps I could join you, princess. Just to make sure you’re feeling better.” The smile he gives you is almost sneaky, as if there is some sort of hidden innuendo in there. You feel that he enjoys toying with you.

“That would be terribly improper.” You speak only loud enough for him to hear.

“Yes, of course.” He says but the cheeky grin never fades, even as he walks to his horse.

“Strange.” Rose says. “Most lords would enjoy the comforts of a carriage themselves.”

“Perhaps it would be an excuse to sneak into here.” Safia says scandalously. 

“Then he shall be perpetually disappointed.” You say as you settle into your seat.

The procession begins to move again and through all the bumps and uneven roads, and as more time passes, the nausea that plagued you never returns. 

taglist(comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

Lord husband: @feyres-fireheart @possiblyafangirl @hb8301 @marihoneywk @youn-jo @velvet-spider @janelongxox @ninastyless @nyctophilic0vitnir @m-a-s-h-k-a @delicious-xx @weepingfashionwritingplaid @happinessinthebeing @betelrus @joliettes @black-swan-blog27 @mxtokko @valeridarkness @karolalolla @satan-s-ass @synindoodles

[shitsndgiggs]

Can you write a fic about Lamine Yamal with a Barca Femeni player reader? 🙏 love your works also

WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO - LAMINE YAMAL

Playing who’s most likely to with your secret boyfriend

Lamine Yamal x barca femeni! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The producers of the Barca YouTube channel had come up with a fun idea: get a player from the men’s team and one from the women’s team to play a “Who’s Most Likely To” game.

It was meant to be lighthearted and entertaining for the fans, but as Lamine and I took our seats in front of the camera, I felt a slight flutter of nerves in my stomach.

Our relationship was still under wraps, and even though this was just for fun, I hoped we could keep our secret somewhat safe.

We sat down side by side, whiteboards and markers in hand, as the camera crew finished setting up. Lamine nudged me with his elbow, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Ready to get competitive?” he asked, already in a playful mood.

“Always,” I shot back, grinning. “Just don’t get mad when I win.”

“Let’s see about that,” he chuckled, clearly up for the challenge.

The producer gave us the go-ahead, and the first question appeared on the screen: “Who’s most likely to be late to training?”

We both quickly scribbled down our answers, then flipped our boards at the same time. I had written Lamine’s name, and he had written mine.

“Seriously?” I laughed, pointing at him. “You think I’m the one who’s late?”

“Absolutely,” he said, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re the queen of ‘five more minutes.’”

“Only because you keep me up late talking about random stuff!” I shot back, trying to hold back my laughter.

“Excuses, excuses,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “You just like your sleep too much.”

I rolled my eyes, still smiling. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lamine.”

The next question popped up: “Who’s most likely to forget an important date?”

This time, we both hesitated for a second before writing down our answers. When we flipped the boards, we’d both written Lamine’s name.

“See!” I said, pointing at his board. “You admit it!”

“Hold on,” he said, holding up a finger. “I remember all the important stuff. It’s just the little things that sometimes slip my mind.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, crossing my arms. “Like that time you forgot our—”

“Okay, okay, no need to bring up ancient history,” he interrupted, laughing as he tried to dodge the incoming teasing.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the playful energy between us making the whole thing fun.

The third question appeared: “Who’s most likely to binge-watch an entire series in one day?”

We both knew the answer to this one instantly.

We scribbled quickly and flipped our boards at the same time, both revealing my name.

“Guilty,” I admitted, shrugging with a grin. “But only when it’s a really good show.”

“And then you tell me all about it and make me watch it too,” Lamine added with a laugh.

“Exactly, because I have good taste,” I said, nudging him. “You’re welcome.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he agreed, still chuckling. “You’ve got me hooked on a few good ones.”

The next question was a bit more personal: “Who’s most likely to be the romantic one?”

We both took a moment before writing our answers. When we flipped our boards, Lamine had written his own name, and I’d written mine.

“You think you’re the romantic one?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I do all the cute stuff,” I said, defending my answer. “Like that surprise dinner after your big match.”

“That was pretty sweet,” he admitted. “But who’s always leaving little notes around, huh?”

“Okay, okay,” I laughed, giving in. “You win this one.”

“Thank you,” he said, pretending to bow in his seat. “I’ll take that victory.”

The last question popped up on the screen: “Who’s most likely to win in a game of FIFA?”

We both knew where this was going. I scribbled down my name confidently, and Lamine did the same with his own.

When we flipped the boards, we burst out laughing.

“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “You know I beat you last time.”

“That was a fluke,” he shot back, grinning. “You got lucky.”

“Lucky? Please, I’m just better,” I teased, poking his side.

“Alright, rematch tonight then,” he challenged, still smiling. “Let’s settle this.”

“You’re on,” I agreed, leaning in with a grin.

The producer wrapped up the shoot, thanking us both as we handed back our whiteboards. Lamine and I exchanged a satisfied look, still buzzing from the fun we’d just had.

As we walked off the set, he slung an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “You know, you’re not too bad at this whole YouTube thing.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I replied, leaning into him with a smile.

“Can’t wait to destroy you at FIFA tonight,” he said, his voice full of mock confidence.

“In your dreams, Lamine,” I laughed. “But I’ll let you dream for a little longer.”

[daisymbin]

secrets to a furball! - moon junhui

warnings: none!

pairings: moon junhui x reader

genre: a tipsy moon junhui &....a cat

wc: 1k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist! // jun's m.list

a rowdy night evolved into a night of peaceful quiet as you half carry a very tipsy jun back to your apartment where he’d insisted on coming just to see your cat. “i swear, i just need to say hi to him,” he’d grumbled with a pout as you’d guided him gently inside.

your cat perked up as you settled jun on the couch, its tail flicking lazily as it watched him with mild curiosity. “stay put,” you said softly, trying not to laugh at how adorably determined jun looked. “i’m grabbing you some water and painkillers.”

he nodded, his gaze already focused on your cat with a warm, tipsy smile. you were only gone a few moments, but when you came back to the living room, you stopped just short of the doorway, his familiar murmuring voice reaching your ears. and this time, the words he was saying in mandarin sent a spark of surprise through you.

ever since he’d learned you had a gotten a kitten, jun had taken to talking to the little fluffball in mandarin, laughingly explaining that it was never too early for anyone to learn a second language; even if that someone was a cat. he’d joke about how one day, your cat would probably start meowing back in perfect chinese.

and so, with minghao’s help, you’d secretly been learning mandarin too. you’d told yourself it was just so you could understand what jun was saying to your cat; those playful, soft words that were spoken just for the two of them. but over time, you realized just how much you’d wanted to understand him, not just in language, but in every way possible.

"你知道我有多喜欢她吗?" ("do you know how much i like her?") he asked, his tone barely above a whisper, like he was confessing to your cat something he’d kept hidden from the rest of the world.

your heart skipped a beat. you hadn’t expected anything serious & certainly not this.

your cat blinked, uninterested, but jun continued, undeterred. "我每次看到她," he murmured, "我心真的跳得很快” ("every time I look at her, my heart beats so fast.")

you stilled, holding your breath as he sighed, his words full of a longing he’d never shared with you. it was like he’d poured every ounce of his heart into the drunken confession to this tiny, unimpressed audience of one.

“我喜欢她 喜欢到快要疯了,” ("i like her so much i’m going crazy.") he mumbled, his tone lighthearted but with a hint of something sadder under it, almost like he was trying to laugh off his own confession, whispering it to your cat as if it was some silly secret.

you swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral as you stepped back into the room and set the water down in front of him. “talking to my cat again?” you asked, slipping into a teasing tone to hide the way your heart was racing.

jun jumped slightly, turning to you with wide eyes and a sheepish laugh. “oh, yeah, just…practicing mandarin with him,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy grin.

“you’re so dedicated,” you replied, smiling as you took a seat beside him. “my cat is very lucky to have you as his teacher.”

jun laughed softly, rubbing his eyes like he was trying to shake off his own embarrassment. “well, he’s a good listener,” he joked, glancing away as if trying to hide his own vulnerability. “doesn’t judge me… or my silly, terrible secrets.”

"oh?” you murmured, tilting your head. “and what kind of secrets would you be telling him?"

he stiffened, his fingers stilling mid-scratch on the cat’s head. "just… silly…terrible…things. nothing important." he repeated, not letting up.

but the way he avoided your gaze, the way his hand trembled just slightly, told you otherwise.

“you know, jun,” you said softly, your gaze fixed on him, “sometimes it’s easier to tell a friend than a cat.”

his gaze flickered to yours, a hint of hope mingling with the apprehension in his eyes. he swallowed, his throat bobbing as he seemed to consider it, his usual playful confidence nowhere to be found.

“i just…” he trailed off, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the room’s stillness. “i guess I'm just scared.”

“if I tell you a secret, will you tell me yourself what you told my cat?”

“that depends on if your secret holds the same value as mine,” he laughed, “what if you tell me a silly secret like….you just farted or something?”

it's always so easy with jun, laughing like this at midnight, “no i didnt just fart you dork! my secret is that....i've been learning mandarin from minghao for the past 8 months....& that i also heard what you said to my cat.”

he froze, the color draining from his face as realization dawned. his mouth opened slightly before closing again, his gaze shifting as he processed your words. slowly, he met your eyes, the unspoken confession hanging between you.

“you heard all of that?” he whispered, his face a mix of shock and something else, something deeper.

“i did,” you said softly, leaning closer. “& if you asked me, I don't think your secret is silly or terrible at all.”

jun blinked, a slow smile breaking through his shock as he processed your words, the last of his shyness melted away. “you really think so?” he asked as he reached for your hand, his fingers warm and tentative as they curled around yours. “if your secret is silly & terrible, then mine is too.”

[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 24- 'Falling Into Place' | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.5 k

After the game, you settled into the car, just you and Jude and Louis joining too, the tension from the match finally beginning to ease. Jude sat beside you head resting on your shoulder, an occasional kiss to your shoulder still processing the loss, but trying to shake it off with his usual lighthearted attitude. 

“So, nothing to say after the match? I’m bracing myself for it.” Jude smirked. He was expecting some teasing remark, knowing Louis wasn’t one to hold back especially with a France win, but instead, Louis surprised him. He gave Jude a firm pat on the arm. 

“You actually played really well, mate. Nothing to joke about this time.” He said with genuine sincerity. You could see the surprise flicker across Jude’s face as he looked at Louis, a smile breaking through his usual post-loss seriousness. 

“Really?” Jude raised his brows. Louis nodded, completely serious. 

“Yeah, bro. No joke. It was clinical, honest. Next stinker I’ll be on you though.” Louis laughed. You couldn’t help but giggle along with him, leaning into Jude’s side as he absorbed the rare, unfiltered praise from your brother. It was a moment you didn’t see coming, and you knew Jude appreciated it more than he let on. The warmth of the moment made you feel even closer to him, especially knowing that Louis had finally given in and really liked him. “Harry Kane’s performance though…Ouah, absolutely. Now that was a disaster class.” Louis cracked a grin teasingly. Jude held his hands up in innocence. The three of you laughed, the tension from the game melting away with the easy banter. Soon, the mood shifted from somber reflection to hunger as you made plans for a late dinner. Jude’s mood lightened even more when Aurelian opted to join the group, eager to poke fun at the evening’s results. You’d tried to convince Whitney and Trent to join you for dinner, but they were heading straight back home to Engladn to see Teddy. So, it ended up being just you, Jude, Louis, and Aurelian at a cozy restaurant. They all agreed to a simple rule for the night: the loser pays. Which, of course, meant Jude was footing the bill after England’s defeat. As the conversation flowed over the table, Louis shared stories from your childhood that made Jude laugh, while Aurelian added his own banter to keep things light. The four of you tucked in the back of a small warm restaurant. You couldn’t stop smiling, feeling this unexpected sense of closeness. There was something comforting about seeing the men in your life—Jude, Louis, and even Aurelian—enjoying each other’s company like old friends. Even though Jude had just experienced a tough loss on the pitch, the warmth of the night, the laughter, and the company of the people he loved seemed to overshadow the disappointment. You snuggled closer to him as the night wore on, feeling content. Everything felt right, and Jude, even with the sting of defeat, was right there with you, his arm draped protectively over your shoulder. 

“Lou, so your dad gave me permission to propose.” Jude lowered his voice. He was sitting across from Aurelian and Louis after you excused yourself to use the bathroom. As soon as you left, Jude leaned in toward them. Louis raised an eyebrow, his typical calm demeanor breaking with a hint of surprise. 

“Seriously? Félicitations” he asked, with a smirk slowly forming. Jude nodded, looking proud but a little anxious. Aurelian, catching on, immediately mocked betrayal that Jude didn’t ask for any help finding a place to ask your dad  

“Bro, how could you not tell me? I would’ve helped you pick the perfect spot in Paris!” he exclaimed, only half-joking. Jude shook his head with a grin. “Louis, où l'a-t-il emmené?”  [Louis, where did he take him?] Aurelian’s gaze flashed to Louis inquisitively.

“I’m fine, mate. I managed. Got my yes already.” Jude beamed proud.  Louis leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, still processing what Jude had just said, a slow smile spread across his face. He knew Jude was asking, they’d spoken prior but he didn’t tip your dad off. He looked genuinely impressed, but his teasing nature quickly took over. 

“Well,” he began, giving Jude a playful glance, “one yes down… but you still need the other one.” Jude rolled his eyes with a grin, but the nerves flickered again beneath the surface. 

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted, running a hand over his hair. He glanced toward the direction of the bathroom, making sure you weren’t on your way back yet. He wanted to make sure this conversation stayed between him, Louis, and Aurelian, who was now listening with keen interest from across the table. Aurelian, who had been quietly partaking in the conversation while sipping his wine, set his glass down with a soft clink. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the whole thing. 

“Wait—honestly….so you’re telling me you had already planned this whole thing out and didn’t think to ask for my help? Not at all?  I would’ve found the perfect spot to ask him. Set the whole thing up for you.” He looked at Jude offended. Jude chuckled, shaking his head at Aurelian’s faux indignation. 

“I didn’t need your help, mate,” he teased back. “I’ve got my plan, and more importantly, I got my yes from her dad. That’s all that matters.” Jude quipped. Louis smirked, leaning forward and giving Jude a playful nudge with his elbow. 

“You better hope that’s all that matters. You’ve got the hard part out of the way, but the real question is… does she even suspect anything?” Louis lowered his voice to a point where they could barely hear it in the restaurant. Jude’s eyes flickered with a slight smirk, his nerves melting into that mischievous confidence you adored so much. 

“Not a thing,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “She’s completely in the dark… I hope.” He smirked. Aurelian laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’d better hope, bro. Pulling all this off without her catching on? That’s impressive. But hey, if you need any backup, I’m just saying… I know some great spots around Paris for the proposal.” Aurelian raised his brow almost begging to be included. Jude raised an eyebrow, his playful smirk returning.

“Actually,” he said, leaning in slightly, “I’m thinking Greece.” He grinned proudly. Louis’s eyes widened, and a dramatic scoff escaped his lips. 

“Greece? You really want to make this hard for yourself, don’t you?” he teased before his eyes flicked to Aurelian. “C'est difficile.” He switched to French with a playful jab. “You’re really going to make her travel all the way to Greece just to say yes?” Louis asked. Aurelian grinned, catching onto the playful teasing in French. 

“How exactly do you plan to get her there without tipping her off?” he asked with genuine curiosity.  Jude paused for a moment, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. 

“I’m working on it,” he said simply, the weight of his plan hanging in the air between them but Jude’s confidence in himself rarely faltered. “It’s gonna take a little finessing, but I think I can pull it off.” Jude explained vaguely. Louis laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re mad,” he muttered, “but if anyone can do it, it’s you.” He smiled. Aurelian leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. 

“Greece, huh? Well, you’re lucky she puts up with your shit.” He teased. “I wouldn’t fly all the way there for you bro… So you’ll ask Y/N in Greece.” Aurelian repeated just to confirm what had been said. Jude gave a small nod. 

“That’s the plan,” he said, a glint of determination in his eyes. “I want you guys there though… like everyone will be there.” He cooed sincerely. Louis snickered, shooting him a teasing look.

“Well, I don’t know if I’ll be available, mate,” he joked sarcastically, feigning a busy schedule. “I might have some really important plans to not be at the biggest moment of my sister’s life.” He smirked. Jude gave him a playful shove, rolling his eyes. 

“Nah, you’re not missing it. Fuck off. You’ll be there” Jude laughed, reinforcing that Louis better be there, jokes aside. Just as they were starting to laugh a little more,  the sound of your heels echoed back toward the table. The three of them straightened up slightly, and Jude quickly shifted gears, returning to casual conversation. You slid back into your seat, none the wiser to the conversation that had just transpired, and smiled at the group.

“What did I miss?” you asked, looking at the three of them curiously. Jude quickly flashed you a grin, his nerves now perfectly masked. 

“Nothing important, angel” he said smoothly, reaching for your hand. “Just boring match analysis.” He cooed. Louis and Aurelian shared a quick glance, both barely containing their smirks. You narrowed your eyes at them suspiciously but eventually shrugged, choosing not to press the issue. Jude squeezed your hand before raising it to his lips for a kiss to your skin, a silent promise in that touch—a promise that very soon, everything was about to change. And you didn’t even have the slightest idea.

Thankfully Madrid had a short break after Christmas. Jude had arrived in New York to come stay with you just in time for Winnie’s New Year’s Eve party, and from the moment you saw him, something felt off. He seemed on edge, his usual cool demeanor replaced by an almost jittery energy that made your stomach twist. You couldn’t figure out why, but you felt it—something was different. You welcomed him into the apartment and his nervousness became more apparent, and your mind couldn’t help but spiral. You had begun to worry that maybe he had come to the US to end things. You couldn’t think of any other reason he would be acting like this, it could only be that.  The thought plagued you with every glance he gave, every half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. A million scenarios raced through your mind. Was he going to break up with you? Did he feel trapped? You hated how much you over thought it, but his unease was so palpable that it was hard not to. You slipped into a gold Carolina Herrera sequined mini dress with silver florets all over it. You should’ve felt glamorous but you felt hollowed, nervous tonight was going to be some sort of final act.

As you and Jude stepped out of the elevator, the hum of a lively New Year’s Eve party buzzed through the air. The hallway leading to Winnie’s New York City apartment was lined with sleek, modern decor, a soft glow emanating from the warm lighting that spilled from the open door. You could already hear the low thrum of music mixed with the sound of laughter and conversation as you reached the entrance. Winnie’s apartment was breathtaking, like something straight out of a luxury lifestyle magazine. The large floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning panoramic view of the skyline, where the city lights twinkled beneath the inky night sky. Inside, the party was a perfect blend of elegance and casual fun—the soft amber lights onto marble floors rippling aura, while guests mingled with champagne flutes in hand, their laughter bouncing off the high ceilings. The space itself was expansive, with an open-plan living room that stretched into a beautifully set dining area, adorned with chic decor. A large, sleek bar dominated one corner of the room, where bartenders mixed drinks effortlessly, and a DJ booth was set up on the far side, spinning smooth beats that kept the energy just right. As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth of the party enveloped you. Jude’s hand found the small of your back instinctively, his fingers lightly brushing your skin through the fabric of your dress. You smiled up at him, catching the excitement in his eyes as you both took in the ambiance. He looked dapper, effortlessly blending into the crowd of glamorous partygoers, but he had that quiet air of someone who didn’t care about the glitz—he was here for you, and whilst you knew that, something faltered in the way he touched you now.

“Winnie really outdid herself this year,” you whispered to Jude, eyes scanning the room. The apartment, with its grand style and vibrant guests, was the perfect backdrop for a New Year’s Eve celebration, and yet, you still couldn’t help but be distracted by the feeling of Jude’s presence beside you. He chuckled softly, leaning in close to your ear. 

“Yeah, she knows how to throw a party. But I’m more interested in who I’m spending it with.” His voice was low, that familiar teasing edge in his tone, making you smile despite yourself. And even though you felt smitten by the line there was something about it that felt contrived. As you moved further into the room, Winnie spotted you both and made her way over. Dressed in an impeccably fitted gown, her face lit up in a warm smile as she saw you. She shrugged  doing a twirl for you in a black sequin dress that made every man in there in a trance and you were not exempt. She loved unreal. She came over and pulled you in for a hug, her arms squeezing you tightly. 

“You two made it!” she beamed, pulling back to give Jude a cuddle. “And you look amazing, as always. Prettiest people I know and that’s saying something considering my sister and brother in law.” She giggled.

“Thanks, Win,” you said, laughing as she quickly scanned you from head to toe. “This place is unreal. How do you keep topping yourself every year?” You cooed as a member of the waitstaff handed you champagne.  Winnie waved off the compliment with a modest shrug, though clearly pleased.

 “Oh, you know, just a little something I threw together… you know and boredom without a man this year,” she teased. “Cheers! To a year of love for you to continue and for me to find.” She smiled sweetly.  You clicked her glass gently. With a glass of champagne in hand and Jude’s arm comfortably around your waist, the night began to unfold in waves of laughter, music, and easy conversation. The vibe was perfectly set for a night that would ring in the New Year with both elegance and intimacy. As you and Jude mingled through the crowd at Winnie’s party, surrounded by friends and the glitter of Manhattan’s skyline, you kept sneaking glances at him, trying to read his mind. He was being kind, attentive even, but the nerves underneath were like a current of tension. You knew him well enough to sense it, and it was making you anxious.

At the party, the energy was lively, champagne flutes clinking, people laughing, and the glow of city lights filtering through the large windows. You were trying to enjoy it all, but something felt off. Jude was by your side, but he wasn’t really there. He hadn’t been all night. As the countdown to midnight came and went, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as the clock struck midnight. 

“Happy New Year, baby,” you whispered softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Think we’ll have a good year?” You smiled at him, but his response was muted, almost distant. He just hummed in response, offering a half-hearted smile before pulling away slightly. The warmth you were used to—the way he usually lit up when you were close—was missing. It was starting to gnaw at you. You weren’t used to this, to Jude being so… disconnected. His eyes would dart away when you looked at him, and the usual easy flow of conversation between you both had stuttered into awkward silences. He’d hold your hand, but it didn’t feel as reassuring. Everything felt wrong. It was like the champagne was making you both more emotional; you hurt, Jude nervous. You found Winnie near the bar, sipping her drink and chatting with a few friends. You pulled her aside, the frustration boiling up inside you. “It’s like… I thought things were good,” you said, exasperation creeping into your voice. “But he won’t fucking talk to me.” You snapped. Winnie looked at you, her brow furrowed in sympathy. 

“Do you want me to lie?” She asked you with a sympathetic smile. You shook your head no. “I mean… I noticed when you walked in,” she admitted, her eyes flicking over to where Jude stood, off by himself, seemingly lost in thought. “He’s been keeping his distance. It’s weird. Like it doesn’t feel like it’s a big thing, anything more than tonight, but it’s odd.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair, trying to make sense of it. Jude was never like this. Sure, he’d get quiet sometimes, but never with you. He was always open, always eager to talk things through when something was bothering him. This was different.

“I don’t get it,” you muttered. “It’s like he’s lying to me or something.” You sighed feel defeated and mildly too drunk now. Winnie bit her lip, glancing back at Jude again. 

“Maybe he’s stressed. You know they’re mid season, the England performance...” She tried to justify it. You nodded, but it didn’t feel like stress—not the usual kind, anyway. He wasn’t talking about football or the usual pressures that came with his career. He was just… closed off. In reality, Jude was starting to get nervous. Very nervous. Every time he thought about the proposal he had planned, his stomach knotted up, and the fear of spoiling it by slipping up was making him act weird. He didn’t know how to hide the excitement, the anxiety, and the pressure of keeping such a big secret from you. But you didn’t know that. To you, it just felt like distance. Like something was wrong, and he wasn’t telling you.

“Jude, are you okay?” you finally asked in a quiet moment, pulling him aside to a quieter corner of the party. You tried to keep your voice light, but the worry crept through. “You’ve been acting… weird.” You nervously explained.  He ran a hand over his hair, his eyes darting for a second before they met yours. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, angel,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing. Your heart raced. 

“Okay…Are you sure? Because I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. You didn’t… come here to break up with me, did you?” You asked bluntly your question laced with champagne confidence. Jude’s eyes widened in shock, and suddenly, the tension shifted. He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, shaking his head as he grabbed your hands.

“No, Angel. God, no,” he said, pulling you closer, his voice earnest now. “I didn’t come here to end things. It’s the exact opposite.” He told you with a grin. You blinked, confused. 

“Then what—?” You asked. He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his eyes softening. 

“Just let me be in my feels, baby.” He teased a bit, you could sense the joke but he still wasn’t answering your question. “Kicking off another year together. It’s nice just has me thinking.” You raised your brow. Jude could tell you didn’t believe him. “And I’m jet lagged, angel. Promise, I’m okay.”  He reassured you. Maybe you had one too many glasses of Dom because now your apprehension transitioned to excitement. He was thinking about the future. It felt like you were floating suddenly, trying to grasp onto the reality of the moment. He wasn’t leaving you. Maybe… just maybe he was planning a bigger future with you. Jude smiled, his nerves melting into something more tender. “Jet lagged and in love with you. No worries. Hmm?” He cooed once over, kissing your hair. 

“I thought you were going to break my heart,” you murmured against him, your voice shaky torn between excitement and relief. He held you tight, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before he started laugh. You could feel his chest begin to vibrate. 

“Never leaving. I’m here to stay. This year will be good for us… promise.” He cooed. After his clarification any stolen glances at Jude throughout the evening came with a sense that, no matter how luxurious the party or stunning the view of the city, the real magic was in the quiet moments between the two of you. The worry faded, replaced by a quiet, shared anticipation. And so, the New Year began, you looked at Jude with a new sense of certainty. This was it—your future was right in front of you.

When you got home from the New Year’s party, Jude’s mood had shifted so much since the party, it left your head spinning. All night, he’d been distant, distracted, and now since he told you he was fine,  it was as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. As soon as the front door clicked shut, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close before you could even set your bag down. His chest pressed against your back, and his hands rested firmly on your hips, his warmth enveloping you. At first, you froze, surprised by the sudden change. You turned slightly, trying to catch his eye. 

“Jude, baby?” you asked softly, your voice laced with confusion. He didn’t respond immediately, just buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he was trying to breathe you in. You gave a half-laugh, half-sigh, raising an eyebrow. “You’re being clingy,” you teased, turning in his arms so you could face him properly. “It’s making me nervous… what did you do?” There was a playful tone in your voice, but deep down, you felt a bit uneasy. The way he’d been acting earlier had already put you on edge, and this sudden affection was a sharp contrast to the distance he’d maintained all evening. It didn’t make sense. Words of certainty aside, his body language had you confused. You studied his face, searching for clues, but his expression was unreadable, his eyes soft but holding something back. Jude let out a small, nervous laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Nah, just missed you,angel,” he mumbled, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy. His grip on you tightened slightly, his arms wrapping more securely around your waist. He gave you a soft smile, but there was something in his gaze—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on—that made you pause.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, your tone skeptical but light. You studied his face a little longer, trying to figure him out, but he wasn’t giving anything away. His hands slipped to your lower back, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. He leaned down and kissed your temple, then your cheek, before resting his forehead against yours. His touch was tender, his body language needy, like he couldn’t stand the idea of not holding you. Despite your suspicions, you felt yourself softening, your heart melting just a little at the way he clung to you. Maybe he really had just missed you. It wasn’t completely unlike him to be affectionate, but this was different. The way he held you tonight felt more intense, more urgent, like he needed you in a way he hadn’t before. You let out a small sigh, leaning into him, accepting his sudden clinginess even though the shift was still nagging at the back of your mind. “Alright,” you murmured, giving in. “Come on, let’s get to bed, needy boy.” You cooed. Jude’s eyes lit up, just slightly, as if relieved you weren’t questioning him any further. He took your hand and led you to your room, his fingers intertwined with yours, his grip still firm. You couldn’t help but notice the way he kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, like he was making sure you were still there, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. When you got to the bedroom you went straight to the mirror to try to unzip your dress yourself but Jude followed close behind, crawling next to you, his body immediately pressing against yours. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel his heartbeat, steady but just a bit quicker than usual, as he buried his face in your hair. “You sure you’re okay?” you asked quietly, your fingers trailing lightly over his arm. You didn’t want to push him too much, but you needed to ask one last time.

“Yeah,” Jude whispered, his voice soft but sure this time. He kissed the back of your neck, lingering for a moment. “Just… wanted to be close to you tonight.” His words melted away the last of your suspicions, and you let yourself relax fully into his embrace. His warmth, his touch, it all felt so familiar, so comforting, that you couldn’t help but lean into him more.

“Okay,” you murmured, letting your eyes flutter closed momentarily. “I missed you too.” Jude tightened his hold on you, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. You couldn’t see it, but behind you, his face was a mixture of relief and nerves. He knew he had a plan, something big, something that was making him act weird—but for now, in this moment, he was just happy to have you in his arms.  Jude's hands lingered on your bare shoulders, tracing the delicate fabric.

"You looked so fucking good tonight, angel," he whispered, his lips moving to brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It wasn’t Jude’s plan to have sex tonight he wanted to kick off his plan in full swing but he couldn’t resist now that he was home alone with you. His hands traveled down your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps, before reaching the zipper at the back of your dress. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid it down, exposing your bare back. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the cool air on your skin. Jude's fingers danced across your shoulders, gently pushing the dress off, revealing your flawless skin. You stood before him in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra, your boobs straining against the delicate fabric. Jude's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of your naked curves. "You're unreal," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. He reached out, his fingers gently grazing your nipples through the lace, making you gasp. "I want to taste every inch of you." With that, he dropped to his knees, his hands gliding up your thighs, pushing your panties aside. Your breath quickened as you felt his warm breath against your wetness. Jude's tongue teased your clit, circling it slowly, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He explored your folds with his mouth, sucking and licking, driving you wild. You gripped his hair, urging him closer, your hips moving in rhythm with his tongue. His fingers joined the dance, slipping inside your pussy, finding your sweet spot, and thrusting gently. You moaned, your head thrown back, as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Jude, I'm gonna cum," you whispered, your voice breathless. He increased his pace, his tongue flicking relentlessly, and you exploded in a burst of pleasure. Your body trembled as the orgasm ripped through you, and Jude's mouth devoured your cries, his fingers still working their magic inside you. After your shudders subsided, Jude stood, lifting you into his arms. He carried you to the bed, his strong body cradling yours. Gently, he laid you on the soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his earlier touches. Your hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. With gentle hands, Jude removed your bra, freeing your tits. He leaned down, his mouth capturing a nipple, sucking and teasing it until you arched off the bed, moaning his name. His hand replaced his mouth, squeezing and kneading your sensitive flesh as he kissed his way down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses.

"I want to feel you around me," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your pussy. With one swift thrust, he filled you, his length stretching you deliciously. You cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Jude began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. He gazed into your eyes, his expression filled with love and passion. "You feel so good, angel," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. He withdrew almost entirely and then thrust back into you, hitting that sweet spot deep within. You matched his rhythm, your bodies moving as one, the friction building to an intense crescendo. Jude's hands gripped your hips, guiding you as he pounded into you, his pace increasing with each thrust. You felt your orgasm building again, an overwhelming tide of pleasure.

"Jude, please, oh fuck,  I'm so close," you whispered, your breath coming in short gasps. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his hips. You climaxed, your pussy clenching around him, rippling along his length, and Jude followed, his body tensing as he filled you with his hot cum. As your orgasms subsided, Jude collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you close. He wrapped his arms around you, his chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. You could feel his heart pounding, matching the rhythm of yours. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, and your lips, sweet and tender kisses that spoke of his love.

"I love you, Y/N, so so much," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Happy New Year, my angel." You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body and the softness of the sheets. The night had been a whirlwind of passion and pleasure, a bit of confusion, but if you knew one thing it was that Jude knew just how to make it all feel alright when you got into bed. Jude laid beside you pulling you into him. “Did so good for me. You always do so good. So fucking proud of you.” He cooed gently, peeling you off him ever so slightly so he cooed see your eyes. He kissed your forehead before he let you bury your face back into his neck to cling to him. 

“I love you, don’t leave me.” You whined with a pouty bottom lip, Jude could feel against his skin. He chuckled. The feeling of relief of Jude fucking you feeling incredible, but the fear of his behavior earlier still looming pulling you out of your haze.

“Angel… I told you earlier. I’m not going anywhere. Please, believe me. Love you more than anything.” He cooed gently massaging your tired muscles. You still couldn’t shake the emotions that had stirred up throughout the evening. He went silent for a while, just holding you close, but he could feel the way your body still tensed, the way your mind hadn’t fully settled. He kissed your temple, pulling you tighter into his chest, his warmth surrounding you. “I’m not leaving you,” Jude whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Ever. You changed my life, you know that, right, baby?” You hugged him, feeling a sudden rush of emotion again, tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them. You didn’t understand why they kept coming, but there was something overwhelming about the way he said those words, how certain he sounded. Maybe is was lingering effects of champagne, maybe it was a new year, maybe it was just Jude. You pressed your face into his chest, the tears falling quietly, and Jude noticed immediately.

“Why are you crying, sweet girl?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. He had a pouty smirk on his face knowing it couldn’t have been something too bad. You laughed through the tears, wiping your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed by how emotional you were.  “I think I’m just… happy. Scared? All of it?” You giggled tearfully. Jude chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“Well, if you want to stop crying for me,” he teased lightly, wiping another tear, “how about coming with me for work this week? We can travel together.” He cooed. You looked up at him, blinking away the last of your tears, and nodded immediately.

“Yeah, okay. I don’t want to be apart, Jude,” you said, your voice soft but firm. You didn’t want even an inch of space between you two right now. The thought of being apart made your heart squeeze uncomfortably. Jude smiled, kissing your forehead. 

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I hate when you cry, and I hate when we’re apart.” He smiled. In reality, though, what you didn’t know was that this trip wasn’t just work. It was the start of Jude’s master plan, the beginning of something much bigger than either of you had ever experienced. He held you close, knowing that the next few days were going to be some of the most important of his life. But for now, all he wanted was to keep you close, to keep you happy and loved, as the first steps of his proposal were about to fall quietly into place. As you drifted off to sleep that night in each other's arms, you couldn't help but wonder what the new year would bring, knowing that with Jude by your side, it would undoubtedly be filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

When Jude asked if you’d travel with him for the week, you hadn’t thought much of it at first. You thought it was you two just being clingy and mushy. He had mentioned it was going to be a busy time for work—promotional appearances, some interviews, the usual whirlwind of his life. You were in New York already, so it felt easy enough to say yes. But there was something in the way he asked, something in his eyes, that made you feel like there was more to it. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, because the next thing you knew, you were getting dressed for dinner. Jude had planned something special. 

You were sitting at the vanity in your ensuite, half-done with your makeup, when Jude came into the room, his reflection appearing in the mirror behind you. You were concentrating on the contour of your nose when you felt his hands gently grab your cheeks, squishing them together playfully.

“Jude, baby! Please!” you whined, laughing, trying to pull away without messing up your makeup. 

“Angel,” He just cooed softly, in that sweet tone that always made you melt, so you stilled, curious as to what he was up to. He leaned down, his face close to yours. “Can I ask you a question?” He asked to ask. His voice was soft, but there was something in it that made your heart pick up speed. After the conversations with Whitney the other week at Parc de Prince, you were suddenly hyper-aware of every little thing he did. You were overthinking and then underthinking things and right now you thought, Oh my god, not like this. Not in his sweats and your makeup only half done, hair a mess, and wearing no bra. Was this it? He took a deep breath, his thumb rubbing along your cheek, and your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. “Do you want to go on a date with me tonight?” He cooed. You blinked, a little taken aback. That wasn’t what you expected. You let out a breathless giggle, your heart still racing from the build-up. 

“I thought we already were?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. He grinned at that, but there was something serious in his eyes.

“Nah, I mean a proper one, angel. I want to take you out. Like, really take you out. Dress up for me, yeah?” You couldn’t help but pout a little at how sweet the gesture was. But then your expression shifted into a real frown when you realized you didn’t have anything nice enough to wear. Your mind was already racing, thinking about whether you could pull something together last minute when Jude, ever so in tune with you, spoke up before you could voice your worry. “Relaxxxx.” He teased with a glint in his eyes. “The carrier’s supposed to drop off your dress by five,” he said with a soft smile, watching your expression change from concern to surprise. You giggled again, your heart swelling at how well he knew you. He had planned this out. You turned around fully in your chair, standing up and wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him closer, kissing the side of his neck. 

“Okay,” you whispered against his skin, swaying with him. “I’ll go on a proper date with you.” You giggled. “Thank you.” Jude hummed in satisfaction, hugging you back, his hands smoothing over your hair. 

“Good… you’re welcome, beautiful,” he whispered back, his lips brushing your temple. You could feel him smiling against your skin, and the thought of what was in store for the evening left you feeling giddy. So you found yourself in a black satin Prada mini dress, just right, just for you from Jude, seated across from him. The night was perfect—too perfect, in a way that made you feel both excited and unnerved. The city lights twinkled around you, casting a glow over the intimate setting, but all you could focus on was Jude. He looked at you with such intensity, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion you hadn’t quite seen before. As you sat at that table, your legs intertwined beneath it, Jude reached across and took your hand. His thumb traced gentle circles over your skin, grounding you in the moment. He smiled softly, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, in a voice that was steady but filled with emotion, he started to speak.

“You know… I don’t say this enough, but I’m so in love with you,” he began, his words hitting you with such honesty that it felt like they were carving themselves into your heart. He did say it enough but you liked the way he just said it. “You’ve changed my life, angel. I can’t imagine any part of my future without you in it.” He cooed. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. You felt exposed, like you were sitting there naked under his gaze, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. Jude wasn’t usually this open, not like this—so raw and unfiltered. And all you could do was hum in response, nodding, but you couldn’t quite find the words. You weren’t used to this level of openness, and the way he was speaking, you should be after being with Jude for so long but the way he held your hand like you were his lifeline, made it hard to breathe for a moment. You could feel his love in every word, in every gentle squeeze of your hand. He was laying his soul bare before you, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Jude continued, his voice a bit softer, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. I mean, I’ve loved you since the beginning, but now… it’s different. You’re my home. You make everything make sense.” His confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your throat tightened, and you squeezed his hand, trying to communicate through your touch what your voice couldn’t at that moment.

“It’s just a little scary, isn’t it?” you added finally saying something but wishing it was anything but that. “How someone can just come into your life and change everything.”

“It is, angel., innit” Jude smiled reassuringly. almost reading your mind. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself. Jude had completely turned your life on its head from the moment you met him. And now, sitting here, hearing him tell you these things, it was almost too much. The way he was looking at you—it felt like he was holding your entire heart in his hands. “I’m not just saying this,” he whispered, leaning in slightly. “I mean it. You’re everything to me.” His words, the sincerity in his eyes, the soft glow of the city lights—it all felt like a dream. But you were wide awake, feeling more exposed than you had ever felt. And yet, despite the vulnerability, there was something calming in knowing how deeply he felt for you. 

“I… I feel the same way,” You took a deep breath, finding your voice, though it was barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a lot. You’re a lot.” You gave him a wry smile. You managed, your voice shaking slightly with the weight of the emotions surging through you. Jude smiled back , a small, understanding grin, and gave your hand another gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a soft laugh. “But I think we’re good together. Don’t you?” He cooed gently. You nodded, your heart still racing. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We’re good together.” You concurred. You were doing everything in your power not to think about the gravity of this dinner, what it was, what it could mean. As you sat there, his words echoing in your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what all this meant. The way he was speaking, the intensity of his emotions, the fact that he’d rented out an entire rooftop for just the two of you—it felt like something big was coming. But you pushed the thought away, not wanting to spoil the moment with overthinking. For now, you let yourself relax into the evening, letting Jude’s love wash over you like the warmth of the night air, holding onto the feeling of being seen, being cherished, even if it made you feel exposed. And then… 

That was it. Nothing just dinner, a good wine, some ‘I love yous,’ and then you were home, Jude under the duvet cover eating you out, new designer dress on the floor. In theory it should’ve been perceived as a good night. It was a good night, a perfect night so why did you feel disappointed. 

And so, disappointedly, over something you couldn’t quite label, you and Jude had left the chaos of New York behind, following him on what was supposed to be a work trip. Your hardened heart softened when you arrived in Birmingham. It was for work, you were told but even so, you quickly realized there was more to it than the usual business. Jude had been acting different—more reflective, quieter, as if returning to his hometown had brought up emotions he wasn’t sure how to navigate but you were trying not to think about it too much. One cold, foggy morning, you decided to take a walk together. The air was crisp, biting at your skin as you crossed through a park. Jude was beside you, holding your hand tightly, keeping you close to him as the winter air wrapped around you both. His breath, warm and steady, hovered near your temple, occasionally pressing a soft kiss there as you walked in comfortable silence. The park was beautiful in the winter, the trees bare but dignified, their branches stark against the grey sky. You noticed how the fog clung to the ground, wrapping around the trees and giving everything an ethereal feel. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that allowed thoughts to drift freely, unfiltered and raw. He slowed down for a moment, glancing around the park with a soft smile. 

“You know… this is where Jobe and I used to play football when we were kids,” he said, his voice low, tinged with nostalgia. You looked around, imagining a younger Jude running around with his brother, laughing and carefree. It was a far cry from the man standing beside you now—the one with the weight of the world on his shoulders. You smiled, leaning into him, glad he was sharing this part of his past with you. “Sometimes I think about that kid, you know?” Jude continued, his gaze distant. “The one who used to kick a ball around here for hours without a care in the world. I wonder what he’d think of me now…” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone. Jude didn’t like to reflect negatively. If he was going to be introspective he wanted it to be positive. This didn’t feel that way. He sounded… worried. He wasn’t talking about the footballer the world saw. He was talking about the boy he used to be—the one who dreamed big but never knew what was coming. “As cliche as it sounds, I just hope he’d think I’m one of the good ones,” Jude added softly, his gaze fixed ahead, though you knew his mind was far away. “Not just on the pitch, but off it too. I don’t know… I hope he’d think I’m still cool.”You squeezed his hand gently, your heart swelling with affection for him. 

“He’d be proud of you, Jude,” you reassured him, no teasing just genuine feeling behind you’re words. “You’re everything you wanted to be and more. And yeah, you’re actually pretty cool—off the pitch too.” Your voice ever so slightly laced with amusment  He turned to you, a hint of doubt still lingering in his eyes. 

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked, his lips curving into that familiar teasing grin.

“Absolutely,” you said, matching his smile. “You’re one of the most genuine people I know. It doesn’t get cooler than that.” You told him earnestly.  He chuckled softly, a warmth spreading across his face. 

“Well, I know one thing—he’d be gassed to know I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you.” He cooed with a grin. You laughed, shaking your head at his joke.

“Oh, would he now?” you teased, nudging him playfully as you walked.

“Fuck yeah, I’m still a little in awe myself,” Jude said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. “Little Jude wouldn’t have known what to do with someone like you. He probably would’ve frozen up, all shy and awkward.” You hummed inquisitively, having a hard time imagining Jude go shy. You hugged him tightly, pulling him close and resting your head against his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into you despite the cold. 

“Good thing you know how to act now,” you teased, looking up at him, the light in your eyes mirroring the soft glow of the morning around you. Jude smirked, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“Barely… Still just trying to impress you,” he joked, his voice full of affection. But underneath the playful banter, you could sense the deeper layers of his thoughts—his desire to be more than just the footballer people saw on the surface, to be someone worthy of the dreams he had as a kid. “You know, sometimes I think about what I’d tell that kid if I could,” Jude said, a serious tone creeping into his voice. “I’d tell him to dream, and not in a school way, in a way that people will tell him he needs back up plans, not to let anyone tell him he can’t do something.” He cooed and you hummed in agreement. Jude’s whimsy and aspirations were something that drew you to him because you rarely thought outside the confines of societal expectations. “But I’d also remind him to enjoy the little things, like just playing for the love of the game. I wish I could play one more match on this like Jobe and I versus our friends. I wish I remembered the last one.” He told you and you felt a little said hearing it. You nodded with a pout, understanding the weight of his words. 

“Jude… You’ve come a long way. I wish you could remember it too but I don’t think you’ve lost that. I think it’s something that sets you apart in all this. You genuinely like what you do. It’s a job and you’ll perform because you’re an adult working but you also go out there excited to play. I envy how much you love work.” You paused and Jude felt his heart slow. He never had someone really see him. Sure, Jobe, people like Trent understood it because they lived it but to have a partner who really got made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t define. “And you still have that love for the game. I see it in the way you play, in the way you talk about it. It’s still there, even with everything else that comes with it.” He smiled, looking down at you with that gentle affection that made your heart race.  You continued blabbering not knowing you were providing him a comfort he always longed for.

“Thanks, angel. You know… for saying that. It means a lot,” he replied. “Sometimes, it’s easy to get lost in all the noise. But with you, I just can block it all out. Just need you in my ear.” He cooed gently. 

“Right here.” You tapped on his angel tattoo behind his ear. He hummed in agreement.  You squeezed his hand tighter with your other, feeling the warmth radiate between you. “I’m always here, baby,” you promised, leaning in closer, enjoying the way he felt against you, solid and real. As you continued your walk, the fog started to lift, revealing a clearer view of the park. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow over everything, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope blossoming in your chest.

“I’m glad we’re here together,” Jude said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “Not just for my work," he lied but you didn't know that, "but to share this. I don’t get to come back often and in a weird way, even though you’ve been home with me… this park, it’s home for me. It feels special to get you here.” He smiled.

“It is special,” you replied, looking up at him. “Just like you.” He paused, a serious look crossing his face. 

“You know, I want you to be a part of everything in my life. This place, my family… everything.” He told you. Your heart raced at his words, a thrill of excitement mixed with a tinge of apprehension. He reached into his jacket pocket and your heart stopped. You could feel the weight of what he was saying, the unspoken promise hanging in the air between you.

“I want that too,” you said softly, your eyes locked onto his. You tried to slow your heart but you couldn’t and then you let out a breath as he pulled out his phone assumably. You felt dumb for a minute but when Jude kissed your temple you returned to the present.  And in that moment, as you stood together in the park where Jude had played as a child, you felt a deeper connection form—a bond that was as strong as the love that had already grown between you. The future felt uncertain, but with him by your side, you knew you could face anything together.

You left Birmingham, with no ring but you felt closer to Jude in a way that as much as he was a professional footballer, he also was your Jude… Your Jude who was once  little Jude Bellingham, a brummie boy in the park with his brother. Your Jude who you were now onto your next destination with, the worlds biggest footballer right now, in high demand. You arrived in Paris, the air was crisp and inviting, the kind of cold that made you feel alive. You’d warmed up next to Jude, not complaining yet. It was nice to be in a place that held so many memories, especially now that you were sharing it with him. As you strolled hand in hand, you passed by that little café, the one you and your mum used to visit, the one you had gone to with Jude as well.  You couldn’t help but smile, recalling the laughter and warmth that had filled those moments. The café had a timeless quality to it. The cobbled streets outside, the soft chatter of Parisians in the background, the way the light filtered through the windows and cast a warm glow over everything—it all made you feel like you’d stepped into a memory. But this time felt different, because Jude was here, every time Jude came to France, his presence made everything more vibrant, more real.

“Here?” you questioned, pointing the cafe out to Jude. He nodded eagerly, his eyes brightening at the thought of getting to experience a piece of your past again. As you stepped inside, the familiar aroma of fresh coffee and pastries enveloped you, instantly making you feel at home. Jude found a cozy corner table, and you both settled in. He ordered a bundle of everything—croissants, pain au chocolat, and something that resembled a small fruit tart. You chuckled, watching him interact with the barista in his charming yet butchered French, letting him fend for himself. The warmth of the café contrasted with the chilly air outside, creating a comfortable atmosphere where you could relax and enjoy each other’s company. As you waited for your order, Jude pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm. 

“This is dumb,” you giggled, feigning annoyance even as you melted into him. But you didn’t mind; you loved feeling his warmth against you.

“Hey, it’s practical , I’m cold. I need you, angel,” he retorted playfully, his breath tickling your ear. “Besides, it’s the perfect excuse to be close to you.” His voice was low and sincere, and you could feel the flutter of your heart at his words. You nestled into him, feeling safe and cherished as he tightened his grip around you. The bustling sounds of the café faded into the background, and all you could focus on was him. He looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Angel, can I say something serious…” You nodded sheepishly. You hadn’t clocked this would be the third emotional monologue in a third sentimental pIace. “I’m so grateful you let me in,” he said quietly, sincerity lacing his tone. “Getting to see your world, to experience places with you… it’s different. In your world, your Paris.” He cooed  Your heart swelled at his words. You had shared countless stories about your memories in Paris, but hearing him acknowledge them made everything feel more tangible. You watched the steam rising from your coffee, swirling upward, mixing with the cool air as it escaped into the open space of the café.

“It means a lot to me that you want to be a part of it, that you even want to be with me in these places,” you replied, looking up at him. “This city, this cafe, holds so much of my heart. Sharing it with you always make it feel even more special.” Jude’s expression softened as he gazed into your eyes, a mixture of love and admiration reflected back at you. 

“I’ll be honest… I wasn’t crazy about Paris before, hearing Aurel and Cama yap on and on about how great it is… but with you,” he said, gesturing toward the café, then to the view outside where people walked by, laughing and chatting. “Not too bad, angel.” He smirked. The barista brought over your pastries, and the moment shifted back to lightheartedness as Jude’s eyes lit up at the sight of the food. You took a bite of the flaky croissant, savoring the buttery flavor as you watched him take a big bite of his pain au chocolat. He grinned at you, chocolate smeared across his cheek, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tu es un désastre.”  [you're a mess.]  You teased, reaching up to wipe the chocolate smudge away. He leaned into your touch, a playful glint in his eye.

“Oh, did you say I’m beautiful?” He smirked teasingly mocking you knowing that certainly wasn’t what you said. You rolled your eyes.  You both spent the next hour indulging in pastries and sharing stories, the café’s warmth wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Each moment felt like a treasure, a glimpse into the life you were building together. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and playful banter, creating a tapestry of shared memories you would cherish forever. As you finished your coffees, Jude took your hands in his, looking serious again. “I hope you know how important this place is to you. But whether it’s a place, a thing, a job, a person… Anything that is important to you…I will care about just as much you do, angel. You are the most important thing to me.” You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. 

“That means a lot to me…” You meekly told him feeling a bit pouty about the sentiment. At one point, it used to feel like Jude's world consisted of Jude's things and you were just in it before but Jude had made such an effort to show you that's not how things were.

“I know often it feels like footie is the most important thing in the world to me… but it’s not, angel.” He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, the café around you fading away once again. In that moment, surrounded by the scent of coffee and the soft murmur of conversation, you knew that Paris would always hold a piece of your heart, but it was Jude who made it feel complete. Jude’s hand, warm and familiar, rested on your knee beneath the table, and you smiled as he absentmindedly traced small circles with his thumb. The city was so alive outside, but here, with him, it was quiet, as if the world had slowed down just for the two of you. You glanced around, taking in the details—the chipped paint on the wooden tables, the faint hum of jazz playing softly from the speakers, the soft murmur of voices around you. This café had always been special to you, a piece of your childhood tucked away in the heart of Paris. It was a place where your mum had brought you, where you’d sat at these same tables as a little girl, sipping hot chocolate and watching the world go by. Now, though, it held something more. It wasn’t just your past anymore—it was becoming your present, your future. You and Jude sat here together, creating new memories in a place already so rich with them. You took a final  sip of your coffee, its warmth spreading through you, and glanced at Jude. His face was soft, his gaze focused on you, and it made your heart ache in the best way. He always had this way of looking at you, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” you said, your voice gentle as you broke the silence. “Reminds me of my mum but being here with you. Adding more memories to this place… always makes me really happy. ” You smiled.  Jude smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but before he could respond, a flood of emotion welled up inside you, and the words you hadn’t planned on saying slipped out. “I don’t think I could survive if things fell apart now.” You admitted almost unwillingly. You hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. It was too raw, too honest, and the vulnerability of it hit you like a wave. You blinked, your gaze dropping to your hands as you traced the edge of your cup, suddenly unsure of what to do with the emotions bubbling inside you. The fear of losing him, of losing everything you’d built together, had been sitting quietly in the back of your mind for some time, but saying it out loud made it real. Jude’s hand stilled on your knee, and for a moment, the world outside felt impossibly far away. You risked a glance up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His face was serious now, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to see into the very depths of your soul. This conversation was swinging like a pendulum and with real force. You weren't sure why but lately your dependency on Jude and your love for him had you terrified by the thought of loosing him. You bit your lip, suddenly regretting your confession. What if it was too much? What if you’d laid your heart bare, and it scared him away? But then, slowly, Jude set down his coffee cup and leaned forward, his hands reaching out to cradle yours. His touch was warm, grounding, as he gently turned your hands over in his palms, his thumbs brushing over your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, drawing your attention back to him. His voice was low, intimate, as if this moment were just for the two of you, tucked away from the rest of the world. “You’re not going to lose me, angel. Not ever. Never.” The weight of his words settled between you, heavy and comforting. You swallowed, blinking back the emotions that had risen too quickly. His grip on your hands tightened, and you could feel the sincerity in his touch, in the way his eyes stayed locked on yours, unwavering. “I love you,” Jude said, his voice stronger now, more certain. “I protect the things that matter to me the most. And you, us, this relationship—this is everything to me.” Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. The fear that had been sitting in your chest for so long, the worry that had been eating at the edges of your happiness, slowly began to dissolve. You hadn’t even realized how much you’d needed to hear those words until now. You felt like you knew that. Everyone around Jude knew he care about the people closest to him but in the chaos. It was nice to hear… no, it was everything to hear. Jude’s hands moved to your face, gently cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing the soft skin beneath your eyes. “I promise you,” he murmured, his voice tender, “I’m not going anywhere. I protect this because… this is my life. You’re my life.” You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his touch and the truth of his words wash over you. The café, the city, the world outside seemed to fade away until there was nothing left but the two of you, sitting together in this quiet, intimate moment. When you opened your eyes again, Jude was still watching you, his face soft, full of love. 

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but in the quiet of the café, it was enough. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his in the cool air.  Jude’s lips found your temple, his kiss soft and lingering as he pulled you closer. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly, as if he could shield you from all the fears and worries that had been swirling inside you. It didn’t really matter about what came next because the present was perfect. And in that moment, you realized that this was what it meant to be truly safe. Not just in this café, or in this city, but with him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, your coffee forgotten, the cold outside kept at bay by the warmth of your connection. And as you sat there, the memories of your childhood, of your past, seemed to weave seamlessly with the life you were building now, with Jude by your side.

“Thank you for letting me in,” Jude whispered against your skin, his voice full of emotion. “For letting me be part of your world.” He cooed once more for good measure. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, your heart full. 

“Thank you for being in it. I like that it's ours now," you whispered back, and in that moment, everything felt right. When you left the cafe, the air was crisp, a chill that made you pull your coat tighter around you, but the streets of Paris glowed with a golden warmth that made everything feel magical. You and Jude walked in comfortable silence, the quiet hum of the city around you like a soft melody. The world seemed smaller, cozier, when you were with him, like no matter where you went, he was the one that made everything feel like home. Paris had always held a special place in your heart, but tonight, it wasn’t the city that was giving you that sense of belonging—it was him. You glanced at Jude, watching the way the streetlights cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more handsome, if that was possible. He caught you staring and grinned, that lopsided smile of his that always made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the chilly night. As you reached the corner of the street, you impulsively grabbed onto the lamp post, swinging around it playfully, the cold metal cool against your hands. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I like you?” you teased, your voice light, playful, as you spun to face him. Jude stopped in his tracks, raising an amused brow as he took a step closer, pulling you into his arms. The light from the streetlamp bathed the two of you in a soft, golden glow, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away. You were only aware of the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hands rested on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“Like me?” he repeated, his voice teasing but low, full of affection. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. “As in, like me as a person? Or…” He trailed off, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You giggled, the sound escaping before you could stop it, and he smiled wider, pulling you even closer. 

“I mean, I love you despite the things that should drive me crazy,” you teased back, trying to hold onto your composure but knowing full well he saw right through you. Before you could finish your thought, Jude kissed you, silencing your laughter with a soft, lingering press of his lips. His hands slid up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing lightly across your cheekbones as he deepened the kiss. The cold air nipped at your skin, but with Jude’s body warm against yours, it felt like the perfect kind of contradiction—cold night, warm heart. When he pulled back, his eyes were still locked on yours, his face soft and open. 

“I like you too, angel,” he whispered, his voice almost reverent. There was something so pure in the way he said it, like it held a deeper meaning than the words themselves. You swayed together under the streetlight, wrapped in each other, the world spinning gently around you as if it were dancing along with the two of you. The golden light flickered across Jude’s face, casting shadows that only made him look more breathtaking. You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. It was a sound you could get used to, the comforting rhythm that told you he was there, with you, no matter where you went. Drunk on love and the magic of the night, you let out a soft sigh, feeling a happiness that seemed to bubble up from the very core of your being. It wasn’t just Paris that felt perfect tonight—it was this moment, this connection, this love that wrapped itself around you like the softest, warmest blanket. With Jude, every place you visited, every street you walked down, every moment felt like home. It didn’t matter if it was Paris, Madrid, or somewhere you’d never been before—he was the one who made the world feel right. And this very feeling was exactly what Jude was striving for… It was exactly what he wanted you to know. You lifted your head to look at him again, your heart swelling at the sight of him, illuminated by the glow of the streetlamp, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with the weight of everything you felt. Jude’s lips curled into a smile, and without saying a word, he leaned down and kissed you again, the night wrapping itself around you both as if sealing the promise of everything that was still to come.

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

Next part - The Final| Chapter 25 - Fiancé xx

[boydepartment]

@ iluvmygf- nishimura riki x fem! reader: ch 8

description: nishimura riki is a headache to his managers. as much as he loves being an idol and as much as he loves that he gets the freedom to travel. he hates that he can’t show you off. publicly… as himself… so he makes a twitter account called @ iluvmygf at first not a lot of people follow it. it goes unnoticed, for a few weeks. until it doesn’t. his account about you goes viral… and people are nosy as to who loves their gf so much to constantly post about her.

genre: romcom, crack, humor, something fun and lighthearted like a hallmark movie. it’s also set from november-february bc i said so and i want a christmas ark 😋🫶 this is an smau

warnings: cursing, most likely crude humor, probably kms jokes

pretend like the photo riki posted at the end is like never been seen or whatever, im not his gf so i don’t have like never before seen photos of him. sorry i put this series on hold i hope you guys can forgive me

TEXT + SOCIAL MEDIA CHAPTER

“SOMEONE CALL MR BIGHIT”

___

masterlist

taglist: @yourmomscuntis2tighy @yannew @wzy3ka @stellarpsh @czlluvriki @im-yn-suckers @owotalks @filmofhybe @skepvids @ocyeanicc @amymyli @imsodazed @rikislady @j-wyoung @bangchansbangers @sassyfanlawyergarden @miko1ly @itsactuallylina @haewonluvr @entenen @cb97mylove @jxp1-t3r @ineedaherosavemeenow @str4wb3rizz @beomgyusonlywife @jiaant11 @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @enhaz1 @mrchweeee @stryroses @riziwon @cholexc @soobiverse @tzuyusluv @hayleyrkbee @softiehee @captivq @yla-aira @svarcq @s00buwu @rodygr @ikeu4life @faraonatojishady @ohsjy @bts-iris @wqsty @en-gene2 @mrowwww @eumppattv @junsflow @ilurvriki @bunchofroses07 @ariadores @luvkpopp @asherthehimbo @realrintaro @myjaeyunn

comment, dm, send an ask, or reblog to be added :) i try to keep up with tag lists however i get a ton of notifications everyday so please lmk if i forget you. if you do choose to comment please do it on the masterlist. taglist is still open

a/n: again i’m sorry i put this series on a hold. i promise i will finish it by the end of this month :) i have a couple trips n stuff but i feel good enough rn to finish it. maybe ill even pick up the jake one. again i apologize for being distant on my account or bitchy if someone is an asshole in my inbox 🫶

[her-satanic-wiles]

Kinktober Day 2 - Caning

Cardinal Primo x GN!Reader

Cardinal Primo is always far too hard on himself, but sometimes he needs a break. Sometimes he needs you to be hard on him, too.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 4.5k.

Reading Time: 18 min.

Warnings: blood, caning, dom/sub dynamic, flagellation, impact play, masturbation, praise kink, self-flagellation,

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Recommended listening: Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

The first sound to greet you as you stepped into the dimly lit chapel was a series of grunts, echoing off the cold stone walls and reverberating deep within your ears. The heavy breaths that followed were punctuated by sharp intakes, each noise tinged with an unmistakable pain that clawed at your heart.

Curiosity propelled you forward, your head peeking around the corner. The sight that met your gaze was both haunting and mesmerising. Cardinal Primo knelt on the unforgiving stone floor, his torso bare and glistening with sweat. His left hand propped him up, trembling under the weight of his self-imposed penance. Blood trickled from open welts marring his back, testament to the punishment inflicted by the cane clutched tightly in his right hand—a stark symbol of self-flagellation.

Sweat beaded on his brow, cascading down his face in rivulets that blurred the lines of his paints, giving the impression of black tears streaking down his skin. Each mark on his back spoke volumes of his struggle; you could easily believe he had shed real tears at some point, the rawness of his wounds suggesting a depth of suffering that went beyond the physical.

Primo had always been relentlessly hard on himself, a man who believed he must bear the weight of his mistakes alone. The Ministry, a construct of mercy rather than judgment, had never mandated such punishments. Yet, remnants of a past steeped in the shadows of the False God lingered, twisting the beliefs of those who still sought redemption through pain. For Primo, these rituals had become a cruel necessity, a ritual of remorse that broke your heart each time you bore witness.

He straightened his posture, exhaling a shaky breath as he swung the cane with renewed vigour, allowing it to strike his body with brutal force. Another grunt escaped him, the impact driving him forward into that same three-pointed stance, a position of both agony and resolve. It was a strange paradox—the desperate sounds he made stirred something within you, igniting a heat that spread through your core, awakening desires you never knew existed. The sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, mingled with the crimson droplets of blood, created a visceral tableau that left you breathless and yearning.

You couldn’t help but sigh, the sound cutting through the air like a whisper of acknowledgment. His gaze snapped to you, wide and startled. “I… didn’t hear you… come in,” he panted, his breaths labored, each word a testament to the toll of his actions.

“I’m not surprised,” you replied, trying to keep your tone lighthearted, a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. You stepped closer and took a seat in the pew just behind him, granting yourself a front-row seat to his torment. “With all that noise you were making, I can hardly believe I’m the only one who dared to step inside to witness this.”

As you settled into the pew, the air grew heavy with tension, each breath you took charged with an unspoken electricity. Cardinal Primo steadied himself, the grip on his cane tightening as he drew a deep breath, a moment of silence hanging between you like a fragile thread.

Then, with a swift, deliberate motion, he swung the cane again, the sound of wood connecting with skin echoing through the chapel. The sharp crack resonated like a thunderclap, followed by a low grunt that escaped his lips, the force of the impact causing him to falter forward once more. The sight was visceral, his body wracked with the effort, and your heart raced at the rawness of it all.

Each strike seemed to peel back layers of his stoicism, revealing a deeper pain that resonated within you. You watched as the blood welled up from the new wound, trickling down his back in crimson rivulets, contrasting starkly against his pale skin. The visceral act stirred something primal within you, a mix of empathy and an inexplicable desire that made your breath hitch.

He straightened again, sweat glistening on his brow, and for a moment, your eyes locked. In that fleeting connection, you sensed the weight of his struggles, the burden he bore not just for himself but for the ideals he represented. You wanted to reach out, to pull him from this cycle of self-destruction, but the intensity of the moment held you captive.

Primo inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling like a storm-tossed sea. It was then you realized that each swing of the cane wasn’t merely a punishment; it was a desperate plea for absolution, a yearning for a release that seemed perpetually out of reach. And yet, watching him, you felt a strange awakening, an urge to understand the depths of his suffering, to explore the fine line between pain and redemption that he walked so precariously.

“Why do you do this?” you finally dared to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, as though breaking the silence would shatter the fragile spell that had ensnared you both.

Primo had spent the morning in the council chambers of the Ministry, where heated debates raged over the direction the faith should take. He had been tasked with mediating discussions between factions that were increasingly at odds, each side clinging fiercely to their interpretations of doctrine. The weight of the responsibility bore heavily on him, a constant reminder of the expectations placed upon his shoulders.

That day, in the midst of the arguments, a slip of his tongue had ignited a fierce backlash. He had misquoted a sacred text, an error that had caused an uproar among the devout. Whispers of doubt spread like wildfire, and he felt the gaze of his peers turn cold, their judgment piercing through him. The feeling of failure washed over him, drowning out the voices of support that tried to remind him of his worth.

The aftermath of the meeting lingered in his mind like a dark cloud. He replayed the moment over and over, consumed by shame. To him, the only way to atone for his perceived failure was to seek redemption through pain. It was a twisted form of penance, one he believed would appease the higher powers he sought to serve, including the vengeful shadows of his own fears and doubts.

In his mind, he thought of Satan as a force of truth, a harsh but necessary guide. To stand before such a power without scars seemed unfathomable. So, in a desperate attempt to cleanse himself of the perceived sin of incompetence, he turned to self-flagellation, believing that suffering would somehow restore his honor and reaffirm his commitment to the faith.

As you watched him now, each strike of the cane was both a physical act and a spiritual one—a ritual designed to wash away the stain of his mistake and prove his worthiness, even if it meant courting the darkness he feared. In that moment, you understood that his desire for redemption was not just for the sake of the Ministry but for his own fractured spirit, striving to reclaim a sense of purpose in a world that felt increasingly chaotic.

You nodded in understanding as he recounted the events that had pushed him to this desperate act of penance. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you felt the tension crackle between you. The next swing of the cane sliced through the silence, the sharp crack reverberating against the stone walls, followed by a grunt that echoed with both pain and resolve.

Your thighs tightened.

You seized the moment to speak, your voice steady yet soft, cutting through the haze of his suffering. “The Dark Lord is more merciful than this,” you said, letting your words sink in. “Suffering is for the followers of the light, the children of the False God. And, He’d want you to feel the pleasure in the pain, at least.”

Primo paused, the cane hanging limply at his side, his breath hitching as he absorbed your words. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, battling with the internal struggle that raged within him. The idea seemed foreign, almost blasphemous, yet a part of him hesitated, yearning for a glimmer of relief from the relentless cycle of pain he had subjected himself to.

“Pleasure?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with doubt. “How can I indulge in anything but punishment when I’ve failed?”

You leaned forward slightly, your eyes locking onto his, willing him to see the truth in your perspective. “Redemption doesn’t solely lie in pain, Primo. It’s in the balance, in embracing both light and dark. The Dark Lord doesn’t seek to break you; He seeks to mold you. Embracing pleasure doesn’t diminish your devotion—it enhances it, allowing you to rise stronger from your trials.”

As the words left your lips, you noticed a subtle shift in his posture. The rigidness began to melt away, if only slightly, as the weight of his self-imposed burden wavered under the promise of something more. In that moment, you saw the flicker of hope ignite in his eyes, a yearning to reclaim not just his honour, but the joy of living, even amidst the shadows.

Almost quietly, and with a small smile, he responded, “I should have known you’d come for your pound of flesh.” His gaze lingered on you, a mixture of challenge and vulnerability in his eyes. The statement hung in the air, charged with a tension that sent a shiver down your spine.

You met his gaze, a slow smile playing at the corners of your lips. “Perhaps I have,” you replied, your voice low and sultry, deliberately teasing the edge of his discomfort. You stood and walked over to him, hooking your index finger below his chin. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out. He looked somehow innocent in all of this. “Perhaps I’ve been sent here to do His bidding.”

“It would be a great pleasure to be punished by you.”

He placed the cane in both of his hands and held it up to you, like a knight offering a sword to his queen. The cane trembled slightly in his hands as he offered it to you, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of reverence and desire. His lips parted as though he were about to speak, but no words came—only the quiet, charged silence between you. Trust radiated from him, unspoken yet undeniable, but instead of taking the cane, you chose a different path.

Slowly, deliberately, you sank to your knees before him, the movement commanding his attention. His breath hitched as he watched, every inch of you now level with the vulnerability he tried so hard to suppress. The tension between you was electric, a palpable pulse of need and anticipation. You let your hand slide behind his neck, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips sending a jolt through you both.

Without breaking eye contact, you pulled him toward you, and the kiss that followed was anything but gentle. It was desperate, hungry, and raw—a collision of longing and pent-up emotion that neither of you could hold back any longer. His lips crashed against yours, warm and insistent, as if he were trying to lose himself in the intensity of the moment, seeking solace in the heat of your touch.

A soft groan escaped him as your mouths moved together, your fingers tangling in his damp hair. His hands, once so steady, gripped your arms with a fervor that matched the wild beat of his heart. You could feel the tension in his body, every muscle taut as though he were on the verge of breaking. His kiss was filled with everything he had been holding back—months, perhaps years, of isolation, of denying himself any comfort beyond the sting of his cane.

You deepened the kiss, the passion between you intensifying as you pressed closer. His breath came in ragged gasps between kisses, each one more desperate than the last, as if he were afraid to let go, afraid that the moment would slip through his fingers if he didn’t cling to it. To you.

Your bodies moved in sync, lips parting, tongues intertwining, with the Cardinal fully submitting to you with nary a fight left in him. The taste of him—sweat, salt, and something deeper, more primal—ignited a fire in you, your desire burning hotter with every passing second. He kissed you like you were his salvation, his escape from the torment he inflicted upon himself.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, lips swollen, your foreheads pressed together as the intensity of what had just passed settled between you. His chest rose and fell heavily, and his eyes, dark with need, searched yours, pleading for something more than what his punishment could offer. “Let me make you feel good,” you panted, resting your forehead against his. “Let me help you.”

“Y-yes,” Primo stammered. The feelings in his chest were threatening to overwhelm him if he didn’t keep himself in check.

You locked your lips to his again, allowing the kiss to return to the same heat it was before. As your tongue entered his mouth, you travelled your hand down from his neck, across the sweaty expanse of his hairy chest and soft stomach, and onto his clothed crotch, earning a gasp from his lips as you made contact. Gently, you began to stroke over him, his limp cock beginning to stand to attention at your touch. You were like a magician with the way you touched him, playing with the right spots to make it feel so fucking good so early on. He was wrapped around your little finger, his body answered only your call. Tonight, you were going to help him in more ways than one.

Flagellation had never felt like this before, neither had pleasure, if Primo was being honest. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but the dull humming of pain on his back mixed with your hand on his core had given him a whole new religious experience. Satan’s wrath at his back, His mercy at his front - and it felt incredible. He never wanted it to stop.

You broke the kiss once more, making him whine in response. “Do you still want me to cane you?”

“Sathanas - please. Please.”

Primo’s begging was delicious. You let your fingers trail along the waistband of his trousers, teasing the skin beneath, but you didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet. “You’ll get your punishment,” you promised, your voice dark with promise. “But tonight, Primo, it’s going to feel like a blessing.”

His breath caught, his body trembling at the weight of your words, and you could see it in his eyes—he was ready to be yours, to give in to the dark, twisted pleasure that only you could provide.

Slowly, you trailed your hand down from his waistband, brushing your fingers over the growing hardness between his legs. He gasped, his hips bucking slightly into your touch, but you kept your movements slow and deliberate, keeping him teetering on the edge of pleasure without giving him the release he so desperately craved.

“Tell me, Primo,” you murmured, your fingers ghosting over his cock in featherlight strokes. “Do you want more pain? Or more pleasure?” You kissed the edge of his jaw as you spoke, your breath hot against his skin, every word a temptation he couldn’t resist.

His eyes fluttered shut as a low moan escaped him, the mix of pain from his earlier flagellation and the pleasure of your touch driving him to the brink. “Both,” he finally breathed, his voice trembling. “I need both.”

You smiled against his skin, satisfied with his answer. “Good,” you whispered, before pulling back slightly, your eyes locking onto his. “Then let’s begin.”

You reached for the cane, still gripped in his trembling hands, and pried it from his grasp, your fingers brushing his as you took it from him. His eyes followed your movements, wide and filled with anticipation, as you stood before him, the wooden cane held firmly in your hand.

“Remove your trousers,” you commanded, looking down at him with hooded eyes. Primo obliged immediately, scrambling off the floor to obey you as quickly as possible. He was fully hard now, cock red and aching, and pleading to be touched once more. The sight of it made your mouth water.

“Touch yourself,” you continued, “slowly.”

Primo spat in his hand and wrapped it around his head, softy and slowly twisting as he began to fuck himself in front of you. He was needy. Desperate. Wanting.

You raised the cane slightly and brought it down in a swift, sharp strike against his thigh—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him gasp. The combination of the pain and his touch made his entire body tremble, the contrast pushing him into a deeper submission.

His moan was low, guttural, and you could tell that he was already starting to lose himself in the mix of pleasure and pain. “Do you like that?” you asked, your voice teasing, as you leaned down to brush your lips against his.

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice hoarse and breathless. “More… please…”

You smiled against his mouth and delivered another, harder strike, this time to his other thigh. His reaction was immediate, his back arching as he let out a strangled cry, the cane in your hand and the desire in your touch working together to pull him deeper into submission.

“Good boy,” you purred, pressing your palm harder against his now throbbing cock as a reward. “You’re doing so well.”

His entire body seemed to melt at your words, his mind surrendering completely to your control. The pain, the pleasure—it all blurred together for him now, each sensation heightened by the other, until he was nothing but a trembling mess beneath you.

“Where do you want the pain now, Primo?”

“B-back. My back.”

You grinned at his trembling voice, watching as he begged for more, his body a quivering mass of need and submission. His cock was slick with his own spit, his hand slowly twisting and stroking, but the desperation in his eyes told you he was aching for something more—something only you could give him.

With a teasing hum, you moved behind him, the cane still firmly gripped in your hand. His back was already marked with the remnants of his self-inflicted punishment, the red welts standing out against his pale skin, but you knew he craved your touch—the combination of pain and pleasure only you could deliver.

“You want the pain on your back, do you?” you purred, running the tip of the cane lightly over his shoulders. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, his body quivering with anticipation. “Are you sure, Primo? I can make it hurt so good, but you have to ask for it.”

“Please,” he gasped, his voice ragged. “P-please, punish me.”

The sound of him begging for it, so willing, so eager, made your heart race. You raised the cane, hesitating for just a moment to let him feel the anticipation, before bringing it down sharply across his shoulders. His body jolted, a guttural moan escaping his lips as the pain radiated through him, but you could tell by the way he arched into the blow that he wanted—no, needed—more.

Without giving him a chance to recover, you brought the cane down again, striking a bit harder this time, the sound of the impact echoing in the chapel. His back arched once more, his hand faltering for just a moment on his cock as the pain overwhelmed him.

“You take it so well,” you cooed, stepping closer to press your body against his. You let your free hand trail over his heated skin, feeling the way his muscles quivered beneath your fingertips. “Do you want more, Primo?”

“Yes,” he groaned, his voice shaking. “More… please…”

You delivered another strike, the force sending a tremor through his entire body. His back was now a canvas of red, each mark a testament to his submission, and yet he still begged for more.

“Keep touching yourself,” you ordered, your voice firm but seductive. “Don’t stop. Go faster.”

He obeyed, his hand moving over his cock in quick, desperate strokes as you continued to bring the cane down on his back, each blow making him cry out in a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. His moans grew louder, more frantic, and you could see that he was close, his body trembling on the edge of release.

You leaned down, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “You can come, Primo, but only when I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes,” he gasped, his voice strained. “Please… let me come…”

You smiled wickedly, your hand ghosting over the welts on his back before delivering one final, hard strike. His entire body jolted forward, hips now doing most of the work as continued to fuck his hand as hard as he needed, a choked cry escaping him when he tried to hold back, his cock throbbing in his hand.

“Not yet,” you teased, your voice dripping with control. “Not until I say.”

He whimpered beneath you, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, but he obeyed, desperate for your approval, desperate for the release only you could grant.

“You were doing this for the Dark Lord’s forgiveness, weren’t you, Cardinal?” You taunted from behind as you landed another painful blow. You watched as the blood bloomed from the fresh wound.

“Y-yes!”

“Keep fucking that hand, Cardinal, but beg for His forgiveness. Beg Satan and He might grand you pleasure.”

Primo gasped, the sting of the blow igniting a fire within him. “Satan,” he cried out, his voice trembling with desperation. “I—I beg for Your f-forgiveness! I’ve sinned - fuck! And I seek Your mercy. Please… gra-ant me pleasure in my suffering!”

Each word spilled from his lips with a fervour that only deepened his submission, the mix of pain and longing pushing him further into the depths of his desire. “I’ll do any… anything for Your grace,” he continued, his hand moving faster against his cock. “Mmmm… fucking Hell! Please, please, please, let me f-feel Your love through this pain!”

His voice grew more frantic with each plea, the raw vulnerability of his words sending shivers through him. He was completely lost, teetering on the edge, surrendering himself to the dark power he both feared and craved.

You felt a tingling in your body, all over it, in fact. You could feel a breath shoot down your spine from your ear, as if someone had just whispered into it. The smell of sulfur filled your nostrils and left you convinced. You leaned down again, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “He has granted you his mercy. come for us, Primo,” you whispered, your voice a soft command, then a final blow to his back.

With a guttural moan, Primo finally let go, his body convulsing with the intensity of his orgasm as he spilled onto the stone floor, pooling just in front of his knees, his back arching beneath the weight of the pleasure and pain you had given him. He gasped for air, his entire body shaking as he rode the wave of his release, his mind and body completely yours.

You smiled down at him, watching as he collapsed to the floor, spent and trembling, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

“Good boy,” you murmured, your voice soothing now as you knelt beside him, running your fingers gently over his sweat-slicked hair. “You did so well.”

Primo’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he looked at you with something close to reverence. He had given himself over to you completely, and you had taken him to the edge and back again. Now, he was yours—body and soul.

As you helped Primo to his feet, he leaned against you, his body still trembling from the intensity of what had just transpired. You helped him back into his trousers - not before using the pant leg to clean up his mess, which earned you a weakened chuckle from him. The chapel, with its cold stone walls, faded from your mind as you guided him outside, the night air wrapping around you both like a comforting embrace, swirling around his wounds and making him hiss and tense in response.

Once you reached your place, you settled him gently onto the soft bed, the contrast of the plush sheets against his still-sensitized skin making him shiver. You took a moment to admire him—his body marked with red welts, a testament to his surrender and bravery. “You did so well tonight, Cardinal,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. “You were incredible.”

Primo looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability, and you could see how much your praise meant to him. You moved to gather some supplies—a damp cloth, antiseptic, and a soothing ointment—to care for his wounds. As you returned, you knelt beside the bed, taking a moment to let your fingers gently trace the marks on his back.

“Every scar tells a story,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “And tonight, you showed just how strong you are. I’m proud of you for getting His forgiveness, but I don’t want you to do this again, please. Not as a punishment. I’ll draw blood from you if you want but nothing justifies this as a genuine punishment.”

He sighed softly, the tension in his body beginning to ease as you cleaned the wounds with gentle, careful movements. Each brush of your fingers against his skin elicited soft gasps from him, and you could see the way he surrendered to your touch, allowing you to take care of him.

“Such a good boy,” you praised again, applying the ointment with tenderness.

Primo’s cheeks flushed at your words, and you couldn’t help but smile. He seemed to glow under your attention, his vulnerabilities transforming into strengths. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” you added, leaning closer to press a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Inside and out.”

As you finished tending to his wounds, you took a moment to let your hands linger on his skin, relishing the connection between you. “You deserve to feel safe, to be cared for,” you whispered, your gaze steady on his. “And I’ll always be here to take care of you, Primo.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of your words sinking in. “Thank you,” he breathed, his voice a soft whisper filled with emotion. “For everything.”

You smiled at him, feeling a swell of warmth in your chest. “No need to thank me. It’s my pleasure to care for you. You’ve given me so much already, and I want to give you the same in return.”

As you settled in beside him, the atmosphere shifted—filled with tenderness and a deep sense of understanding. In that moment, you knew you would protect him, nurture him, and help him explore the delicate balance between pain and pleasure, both in and out of the shadows.

Prev./Next

[mockerycrow]

I bet Gaz likes to try and sleep in with you, like he wakes up early but groans and grumbles and buries his face into your neck (he likes hearing you laugh when he does it)

Soft Moments: Gaz Edition (GN!Reader)

gaz masterlist

The third installment of my mini soft moments series <3 Ghost will be next. Ialso, friendly reminder to support the cod gif creators of the fandom, like yumethefrostypanda above!! gifs get stolen too easily. pls pls pls go support them.

consider buying me a ko-fi? no pressure, i’m new to this but i gotta pay for college 😵‍💫

[WARNINGS: Fluff!!]

Kyle has been in the military for a bit now, so his routines are engrained in his brain. Even as he’s on temporary leave, he struggles to break out of the routine he’s followed for years—and that includes the time when his body naturally wakes him up, which is always earlier than he would like, especially because he spends nearly all of his time on leave with you. Kyle also wears a watch that vibrates at a certain time in the morning to assure he’s up, and it often wakes you up as well as you two are often intertwined together in bed. Kyle’s eyelids flutter for a moment before he awakens, bright and early at 5 AM like usual. It takes him a moment to realize he’s awoken, but he quietly groans and tugs your body closer to his as he doesn’t want to get up.

He inhales quietly and deeply, your scent filling his lungs that nearly puts him back to sleep. Your head is stuffed under his chin and into his neck, and he feels your hands shuffle and move under his shift, limply resting against his bare back. Kyle loves the pressure of your body pressing against his, it’s comforting and relaxing, especially when he holds his breath to feel your chest expand against his. Instead of being back at the barracks, waking up wrapped in a cheap, thin blanket—being with you feels like a luxury. Kyle glances at his watch— 5:12 AM. 18 minutes until 5:30, 18 minutes until his watch begins to buzz. Kyle huffs and shuffles down the bed to switch positions with you, so he’s leaning his head against your chest instead of the other way around.

He closes his eyes, might as well try to get some rest, right?

…

He isn’t sure if he actually fell asleep or not, but within the next moment that he’s aware of—his watch begins to vibrate. Kyle groans and you stir awake, soft “mhh” leaving your lips. He quickly turns off the vibrating alarm on his watch and he rubs his face into the crook of your neck, clearly upset about both waking you up and keeping himself up. “Kyle..” You whisper, your voice hoarse from being awakened from your deep sleep. Your hand comes up and cups the nape of his neck, your thumb brushing against his skin. Kyle melts and hums in response before he mutters, “Go back to sleep, love.”

You slowly inhale and you stretch your body out, your lower body trembling for a few seconds as your ears block out some noise. “I don’t wanna,” You rasp. “Not when I get to see you like this.” Kyle’s felt his face burn and he lets out a weak laugh, gently pinching the back of your neck in an attempt as retaliation, but in reality it just massages the nape of your neck. He tries to shush you but you hum over his noises before you whisper, “You’re so cute like this. Especially when your third alarm goes off.. Which will be soon, hm?”

Kyle can’t stop himself from smiling, but he certainly tries to keep it a secret as he buries his face harsher against your neck and your shoulder, muttering “stop” in a lighthearted tone. Your other hand that isn’t touching his neck goes to his back, and you run your fingertips up and down his back, sending a nice shiver up his spine that melts through into his bones. “You don’t need to get up so early, y’know?” You whisper, pressing a kiss against his head—or at least to where you could reach. Kyle grumbles and shifts a bit, his eyes remaining shut as he begins to feel tired once again. “You also know I can’t help it, sweetheart.” He responds, his voice gritty as he begins to welcome sleep once again. You only chuckle in response, and you don’t talk after that as you can tell he’s finally falling back asleep, which is extremely rare for him. You continue to run your fingertips up and down his back.

He lets out a soft snore.

“And why don’t you look at that? You’re asleep.” You whisper, barely audible. He doesn’t stir so you kiss his head again, and close your own eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment with Kyle pressed against you.

[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement pt. 1

Jessie Fleming x Reader (enemies to lovers)

Synopsis: Jessie transfers to your team in Portland, while everyone else seems to be thrilled about her transfer, you see the girl as a threat to your position and playing time with the team.

Warnings: cursing

WC: 2.4K (this is just set up, the other parts will be longer)

A/N: this is a LONG overdue series I started writing when Jessie first transferred to Portland, I just have had some serious writers block with it. But I’ve finally been able to get some of it down. It is enemies to lovers, so it will be rough and angsty at the start but give it some time :)

Everyone had seen the rumors flying around. You heard the whispers of your teammates at training yesterday afternoon after they had all seen the supposed transfer news. Just like any other fan or team, you all loved the speculation. Your teammates loved it even more when it surrounded bringing a big name on to your team for once instead of Gotham like everyone else. Janine and Christine spent most of their practice trying to dodge questions about their fellow Canadian teammate, not giving away any details of what they did or didn’t know.

You couldn’t lie, you often fed into the spectacle of transfer rumors, chatting with your team about where people might be headed. Something about this transfer rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was because you felt threatened. You were a midfielder as well. If you’re being honest with yourself, your first season in the league, fresh out of college, had not gone to plan.

Being drafted second you were expected to perform well, and the transition into the NWSL from the NCAA had been anything but smooth. You had a few minor injuries, a strain here and there, with the addition of a minor concussion. You ended up with an overall disappointing season. It wasn’t due to your lack of effort, you pushed yourself as hard if not harder than most players, it just hadn’t yet paid off.

Jessies arrival meant you’d likely be finding yourself sitting on the bench more and more often. They were bringing in someone who could actually help the team. They were bringing in your replacement in the form of an incredibly skilled and experienced midfielder.

You tried to remember that they were just rumors, she wasn’t confirmed to being transferring. What small hope you had was quickly diminished when you got the team message from staff asking that you all arrive to practice 20 minutes early for a “quick meeting”.

So when you walked into the meeting room, slouching in your seat next to Sam and Janine with a huff, they both turned to look at you. They had both taken you under their wing when you joined the team, being your first friends in Portland. They would come over when you were injured, helping take you to and from training, and helping you get acquainted with the city.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of their bed, damn.” Janine looked at you with wide eyes. It was uncharacteristic behavior being so cranky, even with how poorly your season was last year, you were typically upbeat, trying to make your teammates laugh, keeping practice lighthearted.

“Shut it Beckie.” You muttered in her direction. Sam looked at you, wide eyes before slowly turning to face forward not wanting to get on your bad side. Your coach walking in shortly after, not giving Janine the chance to respond. You’re not sure she would have even had something to say as she just stared at you, mouth open at the fact that you had just talked back to her.

“Alright, quiet down everyone,” your coach held his hands up. “I’m sure everyone has already seen the rumors floating around our club. We hadn’t planned to announce it until she was actually here to introduce herself but as of a couple hours ago, we have officially agreed to terms with and will be welcoming another Canadian,” he shoots a look at Janine and Sinc, “Jessie Fleming will be joining us.” A couple of whoops and hollers scattered across the room. “She’ll be starting with us at practice in two days. I expect, as you all have with our other transfers and signings, that you welcome her to Portland.”

While the rest of the team seemed to be thrilled at the idea of Fleming joining the team, you dodged every conversation you could about her.

Thankfully training was short, with the season just beginning you were completing fitness testing, getting both benchmarks for the season and learning how well everyone had kept up with their fitness during the off season. After warming up, everyone ran the well known and well dreaded “beep test”. It may be dreaded to most, but as a midfielder you had some of the best cardio fitness. It was days like this where your confidence rose, feeling comfortable through the test, nothing to worry about except running.

By the end of the test, you were one of the only players still running, your lungs were burning with each breath you took, the lactic acid building up in your thighs and calves. You finally dropped to your knees, unable to run any further. You found yourself kneeling next to Janine before rolling over to sit. Placing your head between your knees you breathed, listening to your teammates around you also panting, some coughing, some cursing the test for existing. You laid back fully putting up one leg straight in the air. A smile crept across your face, something about the burning of your lungs and your legs nearly cramping felt so good, a small reminder of your hard work.

“You mind helping me stretch?” Reaching out an arm you smack Janine next to you. Easily convinced, she stands up moving over to you placing herself to hold the foot in the air. She gently begins to press it toward your chest, your hamstring straining as she pushes your leg further.

“You’re fucking crazy for smiling after that test.” Janine rolling her eyes at you, a small cough coming out after as she can still feel her lungs burning. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with two of you now.”

“What does that mean? Two of us?” You send her a pointed look before laying back letting your head fall back against the grass. Janine drops your leg, grabbing the other one before repeating the stretching motion.

“It means, I’ll now have to deal with you and Jessie running circles around me and the rest of this team. Literally circles.” She huffs.

“Right.” You felt the smile drop from your face, you had been able to forget about your replacement’s arrival. Janine noticed instantaneous change in your emotions at the mention of Jessie. She made a mental note to check in with you later, not while you were still on the sidelines of the pitch with the entire team.

Once everyone cooled down from the test, you stretched more, before heading into the locker room. You grab a protein bar and electrolytes from the shelf before hopping into the ice bath. Janine follows you, hopping in as well, making a comment about how cold it was as she shivers.

“Hey, I know we usually go for coffee after practice. We can still do that, it's just that I had offered to help Jessie unpack. She got in last night and didn’t really get settled. I’m supposed to meet her at her new place in about an hour, so I won't be able to stay for too long. It’ll have to be more of a grab and go kind of thing.” Janine looks at you, you both standing in the ice cold water, your shirts held up to avoid getting them wet.

Part of you is annoyed at her. You two always grabbed coffee, it was an unspoken activity, occasionally another teammate or two tagging along. You two would get coffee, you’d vent to each other, chat about the tv shows you were watching, Janine would talk about her wedding. It was something Janine started with you when you were new to the team, she was doing it to make you feel comfortable at the start and it quickly developed into a genuine friendship. Now Jessie was going to replace you at work and in Janine’s life too.

“Just go to hers, it's all good. We can skip this week.” You try not to sound upset, already feeling replaced by Jessie’s arrival in the form of losing your coffee “date”.

“Sorry, I would have said something sooner but with the transfer not public yet, I just didn’t want to get her in trouble or anything.” She pauses for a moment. “Actually, why don't you come with me to Jessie’s? I really think you two will get on well, plus it’ll be a good way to introduce you two.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn't want to just show up, I mean I don't know her and unpacking her stuff would be a little personal, it just probably isn't the best time for me to meet her.” Coming up with the best excuse you could come up with without flat out telling Janine that you don't want to meet one of her favorite people. You had heard plenty about Jessie before from Janine, only before it didn’t bother you. Before it was just hearing about one of Janine’s best friends, now it had a different sting when she was brought up. Now she was talking about the girl coming to take your spot.

“Alright, well I’m still grabbing coffee because I thought we’d be going and I promised Jessie I’d bring her one. Come with me at least then we can split?” You know Janine has zero negative intentions, she still was trying to have your usual coffee while also being an incredible friend and going to help Jessie move in.

“Fine, twist my arm.” You add sarcasm into your sentence, it wasn’t too hard to get you to go get a coffee, it was one of your favorite drinks, you spent way to much time and money on it, even having your own espresso machine at home with a bean grinder and all. Janine always joked that you could just run your own coffee shop out of your apartment for extra money.

You get to the coffee shop, when you walk in the barista gives you a wave, you and Janine were frequent visitors, the baristas all knew you and your orders.

“Are we getting the usual ladies?” The girl behind the counter asks, already starting to punch in the order on her screen.

“I am, but can we get them to-go, thank you.” You tell her. She puts in the order for your cold brew with caramel foam.

“I am, but I’m also going to add another drink, can I just get a latte with the lavender syrup please.”

On a normal day, if you weren’t in such an upset and negative mood you would’ve mocking the way Janine says syrup, but you don’t. You also mentally gag at the coffee she ordered for Jessie, lavender tasted like old lady soap. You mentally added it to the list of reasons to avoid the new transfer. It was childish what you were doing but you didn’t care.

You reach to get your card out, Janine beats you to it tapping her card on the register. “Janine, no.” It was your turn to pay, the two of you alternated.

“Please it’s the least I can do given I’m ditching you today.” She shoots you a sympathetic look.

“Alright.” You rolls your eyes at her as you hear your name called from the other end of the counter where your drink was placed.

You grab your drink and turn to walk out of the shop. The shop wasn’t too far from your apartment, a couple of blocks, and you figured you could walk so Janine didn’t have to drop you off at your house before heading to Jessie’s.

“Hey, where are you running off to, I’ll drive you.”

“Oh, no I’m good, I don’t want to make your trip longer.” You also had enough social interaction for today, a short walk alone wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“Well Jessie’s new place is just across the street from yours, so I’ll be going that way anyway.”

Of course Jessie moved in right across the street, out of all the apartment buildings in Portland of course she found herself the closest one, besides literally being in your building.

Janine grabs hers and Jessie’s drinks and you both walk back to her car. The two of you chat again, complaining about the weather and how it couldn’t make up its mind if it’s was winter or spring yet. You both coo over a dog walking down the street and for a second the conversation is light, it feels normal again. Until Janine brings up Jessie again.

“Hey, would you mind if I give Jess your number? I just figured I’d maybe be nice, you guys live across the street from each other, if she needed anything while she’s still moving in, store or food recommendations, you could help.”

You wanted to say no. But the girl was going to end up with your number anyway, you had to be teammates, you’d have to be cordial with her, you couldn’t let your own pride be a problem for the team.

“Yeah, that’s fine I guess.” Your mood deflated, the words coming out of your mouth with a heavy sigh at the end, making it obvious you weren’t thrilled about the suggestion for her to have your number.

“Are you alright? You’ve seemed weird all day. Is it because of Jessie?”

“Why would it be because of her?” You ask, knowing damn well that your behavior was exactly her fault.

“I don’t know, just when she gets brought up, you seem to get annoyed.”

“No I don’t.” Your answer is quick, you get defensive. Unfortunately your defensive behavior likely tells Janine that it is in fact Jessie who’s on your nerves.

“Oh, I know what it is!” She slaps her hand over to your thigh, giving you a small smack.

“What?”

“You’re worried I’m going to start doing things with Jessie instead of you! You’re jealous!” Her tone is playful, she’s teasing you.

“I’m not jealous.” You cross your arms in the passenger seat, pouring like a toddler.

“Good, but if you were, you have no reason to be, yes she’s my friend, but so are you, our coffee dates will still go on, we’ll still hang out, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I wasn’t worried.” You say as Janine pulls up in front of your building. You climb out of the car, thanking her for the ride.

“You’re welcome, I'll always love you, she’ll never come between us!” She yells out the window making a slightly embarrassing scene, bypassers not knowing the joke she’s making. You turn back, shaking your head at her as you laugh.

“Love ya Janine, bye.” You wave at her and enter your building.

You get inside and go about the rest of your day, laundry, cleaning, a rather mundane but somewhat relaxing evening.

It’s when you’re crawling into bed that you receive two messages from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi, this is Jessie, Janine gave me your number. She said you lived in the area.

Unknown: Sorry, Jessie Fleming, I should’ve clarified. Don’t feel obligated to text me, just Janine insisted I reach out.

You ignore the messages, you have a quick thought of blocking her number, but you know that’s not realistic. You’d have to see her in a few days and be her teammate you can’t block her phone. At least the girl gave you the permission to ignore her.

So that’s what you did. You closed your phone, putting it on silent and snuggled into bed, putting on whatever was showing on National Geographic at this hour and falling asleep shortly after.

[gloriousburden]

I’ve been trying to keep this blog about appreciating OG Loki instead of any negativity, but goodness is the series the bane of my existence. Imagine looking up your favorite character, and having to scroll past every result that comes up.

Imagine the only part of the fandom/community you can enjoy being a small side of Tumblr away from the main tags.

You cannot relate to anyone on Twitter, TikTok, Instagram, etc..

A subdivision on Tumblr of a fandom is all you have!

Finding decent Loki merch is hard enough as it is, but now you need to look out for hourglasses, and the colors orange and brown.

This is all because of the series. This is why us anti series blogs/OG Loki fans are so “cruel” and “evil.” This is why it’s so serious to us. It’s weird to feel alienated where you should feel like you belong.

Many of us lost the fandom that we once knew and loved. It’s not just about the series or how Loki is miswritten, its about us losing the connection we once easily had with others. You shouldn’t have to constantly explain yourself to others who are supposed to be in the same fandom as you.

I share a fandom with people who don’t understand the source that spawned the fandom in the first place. I share a fandom with people who’s only knowledge (of the character we’re all supposed to know and love) is ship fanart, fanfiction, fan theories, and headcanons. I share a fandom with people who take lighthearted Tumblr posts from years ago that jokingly state that Loki is around 16/17 years old seriously and as canon. I share a fandom with people who refuse to think critically.

It’s not just a fictional character or movies. It’s something we are passionate about, and it’s hard to share those passions with others who do not understand a fraction of any of it.

I’m very grateful for this side of Tumblr and I hope that one day we could have our fandom back. You shouldn’t have to make an entire subdivision of a fandom in order to see things about the characters ORIGINAL and DEFINITIVE appearances.

Fuck the series as well as anyone who groups OG Loki with the variant. Makes things a thousand times harder. I can’t even watch edits because you’ll think it’s an edit of TDW Loki… but then here comes clips of that variant. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Girl if I have to see that clip of the variant bent over a table one more time… I think i’m gonna lose it.

Certain sides of Pinterest, old Tumblr posts/blogs that have been inactive since 2014, and Google’s/YouTube’s “Before:Year” feature my beloveds. Blogs on dedicated to OG Loki my beloveds. Thor 2011, The Avengers, and Thor The Dark World my beloveds. My oomfs/mutuals my beloveds.

[cptnhngjng]

ATEEZ NSFW Alphabet

Yunho

smut, mdni, 18+ only, ~2k words

i started this series as just a fun little thing between friends, but i’m going to start posting them on here

A = Aftercare

I feel like Yunho doesn’t do a whole lot with aftercare but he definitely does make sure you are okay and will get anything you ask for. He mostly just wants to lay with you afterwards, cuddling and just being close to you.

B = Body part

Now let’s be fucking for real, his favorite body part of his is his hands. He never thought much of them before but after he realized how weak you are for his hands, he started to like them and use them to his advantage.

Yunho also seems like he would be another “loves everything about you and your body” type, but if he had to choose it’d be your thighs. He would be the type to just rest his hand on your thigh, whether it’s just casually and innocent, or if he has other motives. He loves to see how big his hand looks on your thigh, his fingers gripping you gently.

C = Cum

And if I say he lowkey has a breeding kink—he loves the idea of just finishing inside you. He finds it weirdly intimate; it’s also less messy and he doesn’t seem like the type to get super messy during sex. But if he does decide to cum elsewhere it’s on your tummy. He thinks you would look so cute with his cum all over your soft tummy.

D = Dirty secret

He wants to fuck you while you wear either his hoodie or tshirt. It triggers his size kink. He loves how tiny you look in his clothes.

E = Experience

Firm believer in inexperienced Yunho. He never had sex before you, he was totally lost and unsure about everything. But he is a fast learner.

F = Favorite position

He’s a classic guy, so he is into missionary the most. He likes to be able to look at you. But he is also the type to manipulate you body and move you around anyway he wants. His favorite thing is to press your legs up against your chest. Also enjoys when you ride him especially when he is sitting in his gaming chair.

G = Goofy

Out of all the members, I do think he is one of the few that can be more silly during sex. He doesn’t think it has to be so serious. He’s a silly goofy guy, and that definitely shows in the bedroom too. He can be serious though, but he does prefer sex to be relaxed and lighthearted.

H = Hair

He never thought about grooming before he started being in a serious relationship. But he was never really super hairy anyways. But after dating you and becoming more intimate, he started to be more aware of his grooming habits. He just keeps it fairly trimmed, but doesn’t worry too much about it.

I = Intimacy

I think for him, sex definitely is intimate. He thinks having sex is a way to express love between two people. He would be the type to remind you how much he loves you while having sex. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t against casual, fun sex.

J = Jack off

He doesn’t seem like the type that masturbates much. He much rather wait until he is able to have sex with you. But if he really is desperate to get off, he would want to hear your voice so he either will call you or have videos on his phone that he could watch/listen to you. would so be into you instructing him on how he should do it. tell him what to do. he will be a good, obedient puppy.

K = Kink

SIZE KINK SIZE KINK SIZE KINK SIZE KINK. He loves how tiny you are compared to him, even if there isn’t much of a size difference. I feel like his size kink also feeds into a slight bulging kink—seeing and feeling his cock inside of you.

Choking. At first he was really unsure of it. He didn’t want to hurt you. But you convinced him eventually. And it changed something in him. Seeing his large hand around your throat, having control over something so vital.

Breeding kink!!!!!!!!!!! He lowkey loves how possessive and intimate it is.

Honestly though, I see him being a lot more vanilla when it comes to sex compared to some others. But he isn’t against trying things if you want to try them.

L = Location

He’s a bedroom guy. He likes how safe it is, no fear of being caught. He is also a big guy and likes to be able to have space to comfortably have sex.

M = Motivation

Can I say that simply just you existing is his motivation? He is just so into you.

Sitting in his lap. Just being close to you and holding onto you and feeling how small you are in his arms.

Wearing his clothes. If you are wearing one of his tshirts or hoodies with a pair of shorts or just your underwear. He will have to have you right that instant.

N = No

He isn’t into degradation. He just wants to praise you. He cannot imagine being mean to you.

O = Oral

He prefers to receive. He loves to see you take him in your mouth. Seeing you try to take his big cock into your pretty little mouth, your lips being stretched, gagging on him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t go down on you. He will eat you until you are so overstimulated.

P = Pace

He typically prefers slow and sensual, but he can definitely get rough and fast when he’s especially horny.

Q = Quickie

Not against a quickie, but they aren’t his favorite. He wants to be able to savor sex with you. Take his time, make sure you are getting the very best.

R = Risk

In general, Yunho isn’t into risky sex—he doesn’t want to get caught. He prefers everything to be private. He’s also open to experimenting, especially if it’s something you want to try. He’ll do anything once just for you, even if it’s something he doesn’t particularly want to try.

S = Stamina

Yunho definitely has a lot of stamina. He can go on and on and on. Especially since he prefers more slow sex, he definitely can last a good while.

T = Toys

The thought of using toys kinda freaks him out to be honest. He’s really quite a vanilla guy, likes to keep things simple. If it’s something you want to use or try, he’s game for it, but he would be confused and a little flustered.

U = Unfair

He’s not really much of a tease. But if you tease him, he’ll tease right back. He prefers to just give you everything you want.

V = Volume

I don’t see him as someone who is loud, but he definitely isn’t quiet. He is mostly a grunter and groaner. He loves to hear you though.

W = Wild card

Yunho had you on his lap while he was sitting in his gaming chair. He had your legs spread as his fingers fucked in and out of your cunt. His other hand had a grip on your chin, forcing you to look forward at the mirror that was in front of the two of you.

“Look at you, pretty girl, you are taking my fingers so well,” Yunho whispered into your ear before he placed a kiss on your neck. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my dick.”

Yunho continued to abuse your cunt with his fingers until you hit your first climax. You came around his fingers, drenching them in your juices. He brought them up to your mouth before he forced you to open up with the hand that was holding your head in place. You started to suck on his long digits, tasting yourself on him. He pushed them further into your mouth until you started to gag, your throat constricting around him.

It reminded him of how you were choking on his dick earlier as he fucked your mouth. The way your head hung off the edge of the bed as he pumped his dick in and out—watching the bulge in your throat. His large hand rested on your neck, feeling his cock every time he thrusted into your mouth.

He loved seeing how big he was compared to you. Seeing how small and fragile you were and how you struggled to take him completely. It drives him absolutely insane.

Yunho was getting even more hard as he remembered the borderline pornographic scene that happened just before he fucked you relentless with his fingers. He knew you were prepped and ready to take his dick.

“Good girl,” Yunho breathed out. “All ready to take my dick?”

You nodded as you felt Yunho shift under you, lifting you up slightly by the hips so he could adjust himself. He lined his cock up with your sensitive core before lowering you back down. Despite everything, you still felt the intense stretch of his cock as he pushed inside you.

“Don’t look away,” Yunho commanded when you stopped looking at your reflection in the mirror. “Need you to see how I fill you up. You are made for my dick and my dick only.”

Yunho rested his hand on your lower stomach as you finally sat all the way down on him, his dick stretching you out and filling you up completely. He loved feeling how his big dick filled you up—he pressed against your belly, feeling himself inside of you. You threw your head back as you let out a low moan.

His other hand made way to your neck; he squeezed lightly as a reminder to keep your eyes open and to keep looking forward. “Come on pretty girl, what did I say? Eyes forward.” He squeezed your throat a little harder. You moaned again and felt your pussy flutter from the pressure on your throat.

You looked at your reflection in front of you. Yunho’s large hand holding onto your throat, as his dick stretched out your already abused cunt. It was such a lewd sight. Your eyes were starting to glaze over from how fucked out you were beginning to feel. Yunho started thrust up into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. Yunho made eye contact with you through the mirror. His cheeks were flushed and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

A few more thrusts, and the both of you were reaching your highs. By now, Yunho had both hands holding onto your hips as he bounced you up and down on his length. He groaned deeply against your neck. “I’m gonna cum,” he grunted out. “Need you to cum with me, pretty girl.”

That was all it took to push you over the edge—your orgasm hit and your cunt clenched Yunho’s dick, making him cum. He filled you to the brim, white, sticky cum starting to leak from your hole.

“You did so well,” Yunho praised you. He placed soft kisses along your shoulder. “Look at how much I filled you up. Your pretty little pussy can’t contain it all.”

X = X-ray

BIG DICK YUNHO!!!! He’s definitely the biggest in ateez. He’s also quite girthy, fills you up quite nicely. Also have you seen his hands? He’s got nice veiny hands, he’s got some prominent veins but it’s not too veiny. Kinda a pretty dick, not as pretty as Seonghwa’s or Yeosang’s though.

Y = Yearning

He’s got about an average sex drive, he’ll want to have sex a few times a week—he prefers long sessions over quick ones so he can go longer in between sessions. But when he’s stressed out or in the middle of preparing for concerts, he tends to have a higher sex drive. Sex helps him relax and clear his mind.

Z = Zzz

He doesn’t fall asleep too quickly. Sex doesn’t particularly make him tired—in fact he tends to get more energized afterwards. He likes to lay with you and hold you close and will wait for you to fall asleep. He’ll watch you for a little bit, but then he’ll get up and do something around the house before he’ll feel ready to go back to bed and sleep.

———

taglist: @bratty-tingz, @yuyuzlilbunny , @xdinarymango, @seonghwasbaby, @i-love-ateez

[joelsmochi]

Us Against the World

A/N: How easy is it to come back after a 4 month (unplanned) hiatus? Not easy. At all. Sorry for my absence darlings, a lot has been going on from moving to health issues to new jobs… It’s been so hectic that I am willing to admit that this piece of garbage was also being worked on over the entire 4 months I hadn’t posted. This was all I could conjure up, but I wanted to polish this off so I could move onto the next project, so I also apologize for how rushed this one kind of ends + it doesn’t have the same lighthearted tone as the first 2 parts. Regardless I hope you enjoy reading (don’t judge it too critically… I’m begging.) Also I think when I pasted this it got rid of my italicized and bolded words -.- (i am serious about italics)

warnings: 18+, kinda mean!jealous!insecure!joel, cclg/ddlg [attitude] dynamic, punishment (but it’s really a reward ;]), angst, more panty kink, some useless scenes, chance of getting caught, a little sadness and a bit cheesy, lazily proofread so expect grammar issues + typos!, i don’t wanna spoil so it ends there byeee (let me know if i missed any please!)

wc: 10k (will the length make up for how bad it is? no? ok >.<)

series masterlist | main masterlist

The bar was filled with laughter and short applause from people winning their games. It smelled slightly of stale alcohol and oak wood.

You had just walked in with Joel behind you. As you were taking in your surroundings, Joel had already seen a guy or two look you up and down. He chose not to say anything. They weren’t worth the trouble.

You both sat at the bar and ordered two beers though you weren’t necessarily trying to getting drunk tonight. You just wanted to keep your promise of making him jealous.

He didn’t think you’d actually go through with it, but when he saw your eyes go from your fresh drink to scanning the men around the bar he knew he was in for a real treat.

“You’re serious ‘bout this?” He rhetorically asked.

You only gave him part of a smile and a shrug to say and what if I am?

He half rolled his eyes and sipped his beer, immediately grimacing at its subpar taste.

“Fine. Do whateeeeever you want, little girl. Just like you always do,” he said. “Gon’ and dance for other guys. I don’t give a damn.”

You glared at him when he called you a little girl, keening a dark chuckle from him. He was poking the bear inside you, waiting for the moment you would choose to give up on your cunning idea.

You stood up out of spite and slowly walked over to a man roughly your age, clad in some lousy outfit that somehow made him stand out to you.

The teasing smirk Joel was wearing replaced itself with a scowl. You swore you felt him shooting daggers into your back as you whispered in the younger man’s ear.

“Wanna dance?”

The boy looked at you with excitement and surprise, bashfully nodding and following you when you pulled him next to the other dancing couples.

You pressed your back into his and looked everywhere except for where Joel was sitting, swaying your hips in sync with your dance partner and occasionally pressing back into his crotch gently.

Joel stared long and hard at the boy who was just using the curve of your ass to jerk off, yet when his eyes wandered to you, all he could do was think about using you like that, only with fewer clothes on.

The song ended and Joel thought it would be the end of your shenanigans; he watched as you whispered in the young man’s ear again, and once you pulled away he motioned for his friend to come over.

Another young man approached the front of you, and you gave him a flirty smile as your arms linked around his neck.

Joel was gritting his teeth so hard he was sure he heard one crack. He wanted to keep his cool, not give you the satisfaction, but watching you dance for men that were your age when he was already insecure about being thirteen years older than you pissed him off.

He knew you were just having fun, but fucking hell.

He hated seeing those idiots practically fucking hump you in the middle of the bar. They were feral and inadequate compared to Joel who knew they could never take care of you the way you needed to be taken care of.

Joel had about enough when the boy in front of you began slipping his thumbs underneath your baby tee and saw how it made you tense up so he reached in his wallet for cash to pay for the drinks. Then, he stomped over you and grabbed your arm, snatching your body from between the two men.

“Fuckin’ idiots,” Joel growled at them before pulling you behind him. He felt you resisting his grip after entering the parking lot so he grabbed your hips and picked you up. He sat you in the passenger seat then got in himself, driving back home without saying a word.

You knew you were in for it.

Once you two made it to his place you were trying to get Joel to speak to you. He just gave you a hard look and tossed you over his shoulder without further resistance; he carried you to his bedroom, sat down, and forced you to bend over in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Jo—ow!”

He had landed a firm slap across the back of your thigh and then broke the zipper on your shorts from yanking them down. Your hips ached from the waistband digging into your bones. You tried wiggling from his grasp causing him to grab a fistful of your hair and yank it back.

He smoothed a hand over the peaks of your ass for a few seconds, not wanting to hurt his precious girl.

But then he remembered how you left him without a care in the world just to spite him.

He gave you another spank that burned furiously against your flesh and forced a cry out of your throat.

“I’ll never do it again,” you pleaded, “I swear! Joel—“

Another smack.

“Fuckin’ damn right, you won’t,” he grunted, watching your ass color red. “You wanna fuck some dumb college boy, huh?”

You whimpered and waved your feet around desperately.

Smack! “Answer me when I ask you a question. Do you wanna fuck people your own fucking age?”

You shook your head frighteningly fast, waving your feet around more as if it would get him to release your hair but his grip only tightened. “No, Joel! I only want you—just you. Please, Joel, I’m sorry.”

He tugged at your panties, not too harshly, just gently enough to create a wedge between your cheeks. You were thankful he didn’t notice your eyes roll back and the soft moan that left you from the friction against your throbbing clit and asshole.

“My ol’ ass not enough for you? S’that it?” He whispered in your ear.

“Of course not—“

He popped you again from your words before pulling your panties up again, hating how you said it like it should have been obvious.

He watched you grind into the taut cloth, humping his knee. Although it was a subconscious movement from your body it didn’t stop him from letting out a humorous laugh.

“So fucking needy, ain’t ya?” He cooed, releasing the fabric and trailing a thick finger down the wet spot in your panties. “M’over here punishin’ you and you’re fucking my leg.”

“M’sorry,” you mumbled.

“You like it when I spank you?” He cooed in your ear; you nodded and he chuckled softly, tickling the hairs along your neck. “Yeah?”

“I like it when—… When you pull my panties,” you bashfully admit. “Feels good.”

He slowly let your hair go and cradled your jaw softly to keep your head up. With a smirk, he toyed with the linings of your panties. “You like when I hurt that pretty little ass a’yours?”

You hummed, taking one of his fingers in your mouth. He circled the pad of his middle finger around the rim of your clothed asshole, letting out a hum or a chuckle every time he felt it pulse.

“You’re gonna be good from now on, girl?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered against his fingers, spit drooling into his palm.

“Good,” he hummed softly, “good.”

“Can you,” you paused, unsure of why you were still acting shy. “Can you please pull my panties again?”

He happily obliged, starting a little gentler this time. He watched the shadow of your face contort with pleasure while you moaned softly, grinding your clit into his knee some more.

He watched one of your swollen pussy lips escape from the constriction so he pulled them some more to make the other lip appear.

You moaned at the thin fabric being engulfed by your cunt, clenching so more of your juices oozed out.

You felt his finger gently slip beneath the fabric to rub your wet entrance. You exhaled at his long finger slipping inside of you, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your asshole to circle it briefly.

He removed his finger and snuggled your panties up more. The friction stung your skin deliciously. He landed a smack on your ass cheek with the noise piercing your ears; you yelped and flinched, seductively laughing afterward.

Joel noticed the outline of his hand appearing along your flesh, red and bruised. He kneaded it with his palm and told you to bend over the edge of his bed. Once you were on your stomach again you felt him pull your shorts off of you completely, then your panties. His hands warmed over your thighs, grazing your ass and touching your lower back. He pressed his thumbs in slightly to massage you there for a few seconds before he slid his hands back down again to spread your ass.

You held your lip between your teeth throughout his touches, not wanting to make any noises in case he wanted you quiet.

The cool arousal leaving your body dripped down to your clit almost making you flinch from the temperature difference. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, seeking his fingers or his tongue or his cock — anything. His laugh was taunting and raspy, seeing how desperate you were for him.

"Such a needy girl, hmm?" He took a deep breath leaning into your flesh; his tongue scooped up your juices from your clit to your ass in one long, heavy lick. You gasped, surprised by the sudden contact. You were left disappointed when he didn’t continue lapping at you, but a rush of joy ran through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you.

He heard your simpering little giggle, smiling at how cute it sounded but still popping your right ass cheek where you had begun to bruise. You hissed, chewing on your lip while he undressed from the waist down.

He teased his length along your slit, spreading your wetness upwards and slapping his fat tip roughly against the tight ring of muscle.

And it fucking hurt, more than you were expecting, but judging by Joel’s chuckle he already knew it would.

You understood his need to humiliate you. That was the whole reason for doing what you did. You wanted him to have his way with you just as you had a few nights ago.

But you hurt his feelings more than you expected to and much more than he would like to admit.

He slapped your puckering hole even harder to elicit a response from you, satisfied when you groaned his name.

“Joooel, that hurts.”

He lined up with your pussy, not quite touching you yet. His only response was, “Good,” before shoving his thick cock inside of you.

You screamed at him tearing your walls apart with cruelty, clenching furiously around him to try and adjust quicker.

But he wouldn’t let you.

He pulled out of you to watch your muscles flex for a second, then rammed back inside of you; he stayed as deep as he could.

After ensuring your stomach would remain glued to the bed his lips pressed a wet kiss to the rim of your ear. He listened to your soft cries, feeling your hips wriggle beneath him.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked again.

You panted with annoyance and told him, “If you fucking ease up on me.”

It was an absentminded comment with consequences you’d be dealing with for days. Joel just clicked his tongue at you and dug his hips into your flesh deeper. His cockhead nudged your cervix serving up a mixture of pain and pleasure throughout your stomach.

He didn’t want to be too mean, however, so he pulled back and pushed his weight into your lower back from his palms. Your stomach being smooshed into the bed made the impacts of his thrusts feel deeper than they were.

Your precum enthusiastically coated his shaft, lubing your entrance as he rammed into you. Your voice was breathy as you spoke.

“Joel—th-that feels… That feels good.” Your eyelids hung low creating a blurry line of vision, head bobbing from his stuttering hips.

“You like getting fucked like a slut?” He spat to which you confirmed. “S’that why you act like one?”

You admitted your faults, not wanting him to ease up on you.

“You wanna fucking dance on someone again?”

You didn’t respond, too immersed in how good he was touching you.

He grunted, pulling out of you leaving strings of your precum mixed with his hanging; he flipped you around and wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, using his other hand to hold you at the base of your spine. He lifted you off of the bed, making you yelp.

Once he got into a comfortable position he removed his hand from your neck, showing you how strong he was being able to hold you up on his own. Your legs looped around his waist as he stood tall, your hands clinging to the broad peaks of his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he whispered; not wanting to be scolded again you lazily obliged. He laughed like a bully at your worn-out expression. “You’re so pretty like this, already fucked out like you can’t handle it.”

“Too much,” you complained against his lips in a short breath.

His hips snapped into yours, jolting your eyes wide open. “I don’t care. You wanted to act like a slut, so you’re gonna have to get fucked like one.”

“Joel—“

He shut you up by shoving his free fingers into your mouth, while the nails of his other hand dug into your back.

He didn’t want to hear your apologies anymore, or your complaints. He wanted you to shut up and take it, like a good fucking girl.

He saw the hindrance of innocence in your eyes that tried to beckon his forgiveness. He ignored it, meeting you with a punishing frown. The heavyweight stare riddled your nerves with anxiety — you didn’t want to disappoint him again.

He ravaged your attitude, breaking you down until he got his way with you just like you had all this time.

“You gonna be a good girl?” He asked again, shoving his fingers further back. You hummed into his hand and nodded, eyes as wide as saucers. He gasped when you twirled your tongue around his digits, slurping up the taste of his flesh. “You like that?”

“Mmhmmm.”

He experimented by pushing his fingers deeper, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged and coughed, but bit down on his knuckles so that he wouldn’t take them out.

His thrusts slowed because he was too focused on feeling your throat, something that felt entirely different against his fingers versus his cock.

Seeking his approval, you took this as an opportunity to fuck yourself on him. With your shaky fingers pressing into his shoulder blades you lifted you rocked your hips up and down, clenching around his length often.

“Look at’cha… You need to cum baby?” His fingers left your mouth indicating he wanted a verbal response.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good for you.”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes. Fuck—yes. I’ll be so good for you, Joel. I promise. I’ll be a good girl for you.”

He moaned at your cunt gripping him, smiling at how you humped him. You couldn’t hide your deprivation from him any longer, but he wanted you to earn it.

“Put your fingers in your mouth,” he instructed, smirking when you did so immediately. He gripped your ass with both of his wide hands to steady you. “Yeah, there you go. S’pretty like this…”

Your hair was glued to the sweat on your face and your eyes were low with a wave of tears waiting to spill onto your cheeks. Your teeth waned behind your red lips as you gurgled from choking on your saliva.

“You’re so pretty for me, princess,” he cooed; despite the softness in his voice, his tone was still suggestive of his anger.

He was on the verge of forgiving you, but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Your arms and core were growing weaker the harder you worked your body on his, but you were so determined to cum — and to do it on his command.

“Tell me how pretty you are,” he said with a devilish grin widening.

You were a little lost — what exactly did he want?

“Hmm?” You hummed, unintentionally slowing down.

“Tell me… How pretty you are,” he said again.

“Um…” Your mind was blank, God, Joel could really fuck you stupid, couldn’t he? “I’m—I’m so pretty,” you whispered.

You couldn’t think of what to say.

Maybe if I compliment myself the way Joel does…

“You like how pretty I am for you?” You asked. “All fucked out from your cock?”

His eyes rolled shut as he let out an obscenely long groan.

He liked that, you thought.

“I look so pretty with your cock stretching me out, don’t I? Hmm, yes, fuck—ah! You make me so pretty when you let me fuck myself on you, Joel—gah! Do you—fuck. Do you wanna see how pretty I am when I cum like this?”

His eyes shot open at the proposal, the only words his mind was able to compute being, “Yes, princess. Yes, yes, cum for me—mnh, God. You feel so fucking good.”

His words were encouraging enough to keep you going, long enough to light that fire that tickled you red.

“Show me how fuckin’ pretty you look when you cum for me, baby.”

Your ass stung from him squeezing where his punishment landed, adding fuel to your rising orgasm.

He saw it spread across your precious body: your eyes wavering between open and close, your mouth pouting with his name leaving your tight throat, your nipples peaking, goosebumps flaring across your entire body.

You were flushed red and heaving and Joel couldn’t look away. You looked so ethereal, wrapping your fluttering pussy around the base of his dick and grinding in circular motions.

Pins and needles poked your arms from holding your weight, but the climax felt too good to let up so soon. You were sensitive, knotty, and engulfed in the stillness you were finally able to have.

“My pretty girl,” Joel whispered sweetly.

You opened your lazy eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Show me how pretty you are when you cum,” you said against his lips.

He took a moment to catch his breath before propping his arms underneath your thighs one by one. Your body thanked you for the relief.

Your cunt squelched cum onto his balls while the air thickened with the aroma of sex and sweat.

So sleepy, you felt as he continued to drive his hips into you, but he was so handsome in the low light of the moon. You felt your soul tie to his own, blending your orgasm into admiration for the man.

This was anything but the casual agreement you two had come to weeks ago, but fuck was it well worth it. His jealousy was a sign of a weakness he only possessed when it came to you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he whispered with need. You wrapped your hands around his jawline and pressed his lips against yours.

The slip of your tongue against his was nasty. It was fucking filthy. You licked each other anywhere you could reach, coating one another in saliva as if to mark your territories.

Joel whimpered against your lips, admitting his arrival in the middle of the kiss. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I—…”

His mouth parted as he brought you impossibly close to his body, and he felt a knee nearly give out from the intensity of his orgasm. He drifted his body to the floor so he could sit on his knees, not wanting to drop you.

His thrusts were small and deep as he continued ruining your sore walls with his ropes of cum.

Still entangled in a series of kisses, they simmered to a savory pace. You tasted each other and relished in the filthy mix of bodily fluids.

You’d never been so sweaty from sex in your life yet it felt so fucking amazing.

He pumped you so full of cum that even with his cock plugging you a little bit of it managed to leak out. You both smiled at the feeling and broke away from each other's lips.

With your head tossed back on the edge of his bed and his head resting on your chest, you just sat there in silence.

His hands gloss over your back and your fingers stroking the wet curls on his head. You wanted to stay here forever, clinging to him like a bear to a tree.

He pressed a kiss onto your collarbone before raising his head to look at you.

“You hungry?” He asked.

“Mm-hmm,” you moaned shut-eyed, obviously very tired from sex. He grunted from standing up again and laid you in the cold bed before grabbing your panties and slipping them back up your legs. You finished it for him, making sure they were snug against your entrance to keep the cum from spilling out too much.

“I’ll go get some takeout, princess.”

You hummed with a small smile at his new nickname for you, feeling him press a kiss to your temple before you fell into a deep slumber.

“What are you doin’?” Joel yawned as he entered the kitchen.

“I am making us eggs and only eggs because you have a poor selection of breakfast foods.”

He snickered, closing the space between you and wrapping his warm arms around your waist. “Well, thank you, princess,” he mumbled against the curve of your neck.

His fingers slipped beneath the shirt you borrowed from him and found the hem of your panties. You didn’t allow his hands to distract you as you spread the fluffy eggs out over two plates.

“I guess this…” His fingers slipped inside of your partially wet cunt, curling just the way you like. “…is my breakfast.”

You shivered as goosebumps poked your skin from the motion of his hand, and you smirked to yourself when his other hand tugged at your panties. Once they hit the ground he bent you over slightly to pull his cock out, gliding it along your slit to tease you. You turned the stove off and gripped the counter, careful to not burn yourself.

Not even a moment later you felt his velvety cock smack against the peak of your ass, and you moaned at how warm he felt against your cold flesh.

“Joel,” you exhaled. “You’re fucking ruining me.”

“Y’say it like it’s a bad thing,” he grunted whilst sliding inside of you.

You moaned, eyes closing softly. “Not at all.”

He rolled his hips slowly, careful not to break you any more than he did just the night before. His hot breath filled your ears with decadent compliments about how good you were for him and how much he wanted to show his appreciation.

Joel fought a moan every time he saw your eyelashes flutter shut and heard you sharply inhale between gritted teeth. His confession of admiration seemed to hold more weight than before. That knot inside of you gushes at his rasps of affection, pushing you toward the edge.

You focused on how he felt, every little thing he was doing: his left hand held you steady at your hip while his right stroked your hair calmly as if you were his new pet kitten. His hips curled into the shape of you as if his body was planting kisses anywhere you managed to still be bruised from his punishments. His thighs trembled against the back of your stiff legs, urging you to let go whenever you were ready, not quite rushing you.

His voice was staggering and cracking, the words I love you straining against his throat from him suffocating it with praises instead.

You knew all of the you’re doing so good f’me’s and you sound so beautiful’s and you look so pretty with my cock inside of you’s were just invulnerably hidden I love you’s, but it didn’t bother you.

You understood what he truly meant and that’s all you needed for now.

His lovely teeth nibbled into the valley of your ear earning a giggle from you; you were so close—so fucking close. You needed more.

You tried rubbing your swollen and throbbing clit yourself but it wasn’t enough. Joel’s need to take care of you radiated from the heat of his body and you craved more of his touch; you moved his hand from your hip to your stiff bud, guiding his fingers to perform the way you sought.

His fingers were strong and thick and just what you needed to overflow, clawing at his bicep, leaning your head back to rest upon his shoulder.

It felt so good to be held by him. A longing that burrowed itself into your soul resurfaced. Ready to be fulfilled by him.

His words turned into simpering little mewls of yes’s and cum for me’s as you clenched around him.

He knew you were just barely there and he was adamant on not changing his pace or patterns if it meant he could watch you crumble.

Joel’s right hand left your hair and held your agape jaw to keep your head from bobbing too much after one of your legs buckled and your grip around his muscles tightened. He increased the force of his thrusts emphasizing the sound of his hips clapping against your heated skin.

His body was aching from the lack of rest but every moan you let out was so soft and subtle that it motivated him to continue.

Your breathing was shallow, filled with whimpers since he wouldn’t ease up on your sore cunt, but you loved it. Your body craved the sin of secrecy that had Joel’s name written all over it.

All the sneaking around, lying, and pretending you two are nothing more than long-time neighbors made all of this worth it. The games. Chasing each other. Waiting days—if not weeks just for a kiss was the thrill of it all.

Deep down you knew it couldn’t last forever; it’d either have to come out or come to an end. But couldn’t you live in the fantasy just for a little while,

moaning Joel’s name a little longer,

feeling the thick cum etched between your bodies,

feeling him stiffen up or jolt whenever your breath hit his sensitive ears,

laughing every time he accidentally slipped out,

getting so carried away that you couldn’t hear anything else…

…Like the garage door opening.

“Oh! Shit!”

You and Joel immediately pulled away, shocked by the sudden boom of Tommy’s voice; with trembling legs, you struggled your underwear back up while Joel tried to tuck in what refused to be hidden.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t…” Tommy’s voice trailed off as he looked over and realized it was… You?

Wearing one of Joel’s big t-shirts and some rainbow-striped socks, Tommy said your name as if he couldn’t believe it was you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out.

“Jesus, Tommy. Quit lookin’ at her like that,” Joel complained while ushering Tommy into the next room.

“Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat.” Joel briefly looked back at you with those puppy eyes of his and asked if you were okay. You could only give him a tense nod in response.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in before looking at the plate of now-cold eggs.

Embarrassed wasn’t even the word. Distress curled around every crevice in the pit of your stomach making you feel nauseous.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, regaining enough composure to grab two forks from the utensils drawer and take them out to the living room where the two men sat and spoke.

“Here you go, Tommy,” you said sheepishly while trying to pretend that you weren’t avoiding eye contact. Turning to Joel you said, “I’m gonna head home.”

“You don’t have to leave ‘cus I’m here,” Tommy said, his apologetic tone emphasizing his indication. “I didn’t mean to impose or nothin’, it was… Just a surprise.”

“I gotta go shower and change my clothes anyways, so, uh…”

“Here, I’ll go help you get your things. I’ll be right back Tommy,” Joel said. You both walked up to Joel’s cluttered room where he shut the door softly and then apologized. “I forgot we picked up a job for today,” he explained.

“Well, I have been told I’m a pretty good distraction,” you teased, fumbling with last night’s clothes. He chuckled and watched as you got dressed, asking himself how it got to this point. “I probably can’t do anything until Sunday. My dad wants to take me to this new movie tomorrow, and then some event thingy Saturday.”

“Sunday, that’s…” Joel’s voice trailed off while he pretended to think about something.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before hitting his arm with his t-shirt. He caught hold of it and used it to bring you closer, the grin of a jester playing on his face.

“I’m kiddin’, princess. I know it’s your birthday,” he cooed against your lips. His kiss embraced your laughter and made him smile again, but this time much more humbly. “I got you a present—but if I give it t’ya now I’ll be empty-handed in two days.”

You cocked an eyebrow up and stared at his lips causing him to vapidly blush. “You won’t be empty-handed,” you whispered. You held his hand in yours and brought it next to your face.

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm, ‘cus I’ll make sure to keep both’a your hands busy,” you teased.

He watched carefully as you brought his index finger to your drooling mouth and took it in slowly. You somewhat forced his finger down your throat pretending it was his cock. You choked on the thick digit and pouted at him with your eyes.

He gasped at the textures of your narrow throat, frowning in a way that let you you’ve ignited something in him. He fought his moans harder than he ever needed to before, staring at you gag and slurp and slobber around his finger.

You curled your tongue against the webbing of his fingers and licked all of the excess spit up into your mouth with a swift bob of your head.

This made him bite his lip to shut himself up; you decided to not bully the poor man any longer and released his hand, smirking.

“You’re gonna regret that Sunday, princess. I’ll tell you that right now,” he threatened, however, his tone was full of defeat and his voice sounded higher from the strain of silencing moans.

“What are ya gonna do about it, old man?” You teased before walking out of his room.

Your birthday was more fun than you were expecting, more than enough people showed up (granted more than half of them were your dad’s friends), and you spent more time being the photographer than the center of attention.

Joel and Tommy showed up fashionably late (you’ve chosen to believe Joel’s watch is set two hours back). Meanwhile, their arrival earned a few giggles and stares from your high school friends.

They tried to talk to you about how much hotter Joel and Tommy had gotten while you pretended not to feel the pang of jealousy in your chest whenever they gawked at Joel a little too long.

They asked if you two had hooked up since being back and the only lie you managed to conjure was, “Joel’s either always at work or with my dad, so… I haven’t really been able to try.”

“Wait, does your dad know you two used to hook up?” One of your friends, Bri asked.

Right now you were really regretting telling all those lies…

“No,” you said almost too enthusiastically, “and I plan on keepin’ it that way. Not worth the trouble.”

“Well, if Joel’s not worth the trouble to you then you wouldn’t mind if I gave it a shot, would ya?”

You resisted rolling your eyes, wavering the drink in your hand around and mumbling, “Go ahead.”

“Hey,” another friend said after tapping you on your extended arm, “there’s plenty of fish in the sea. Joel’s just one guy.” She must have noticed the defeat in your eyes.

Maybe to you, you thought.

Before you could respond Bri was sitting back down at your patio table with an embarrassed pout on her face, and for some reason, you were surprised rather than happy (okay, you were a little happy).

“What happened?” You asked.

“He said he’s seeing someone else,” she scoffed. “Do you know if he even likes blondes? Because I can always dye my hair darker.”

You chuckled, “I don’t think he has a preference.”

The rest of them changed subjects so when your eyes went searching for Joel, you found him standing next to your dad at the grill where he was already looking at you wearing a smile. You smiled at him and then turned your focus back to your friends for the remainder of the afternoon.

Once your friends had left for the night and your dad ended up in a game of dice with his buddies, you realized you needed some time to decompress from all the socializing.

Your dad insisted on cleaning up for you the way you always did for him, so you made your way upstairs intending to lie down for a few minutes.

With your back facing the door as you flipped through a magazine Joel was able to sneak into your room; it was the lock clicking that scared you.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Joel!” You gasped while throwing your magazine at him.

He chuckled hoarsely and leaned against the wall with the doorknob sticking into his back.

“Could at least make a little more noise when you’re following me!”

“The more noise we make the quicker we get caught,” he spoke under his breath.

Your eyes were wide as you took the sight of him in; his skin was beautifully tanned from the Texas sun, his biceps straining against his almost too-small t-shirt, and his jeans hung a little lower than usual.

His glossy eyes lingered on yours as he watched you stand up and check him out. He saw the fear on your face morph into lust, increasing as you walked towards him.

“What’chu nervous for?” He teased after watching your hand fidget with your belly button ring.

You barely heard him, thoughts immersing into thoughts of all the things you wanted him to do to you. “Hmm?”

Even as you got closer to him your eyes couldn’t leave the imprints of his muscles effortlessly flexing against his shirt.

“You play with your piercing every time you get nervous,” he told you after you pressed your body against his.

Ignoring his statement, you stared at the shadow of his collarbone and the light layer of hair coating his chest.

“Look at me,” he cooed, yet you only did it for a second, fueling that same attitude he had at the bar.

He tapped underneath your chin more roughly than you liked, almost like a smack.

But when you looked at his face again you saw that darkness you knew you wanted it like that night again, despite your attempts at hiding it.

Joel could always see past your bullshit.

“You like when I’m mean to you, girl?” He asked. You opened your mouth, ready to omit, but he held a warning finger up. “Don’t. Do not lie to me.”

You swallowed the dryness in your mouth and batted your eyes at him before naively nodding your head. “Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t peg you for the mean type.”

His eyebrows raised in amusement, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “No? But you like it?”

“I fucking love it,” you whispered against his wet lips.

You didn’t need to decompress. You needed to unwind.

“I bet you did, rubbing that needy little pussy all over my leg when I was bruising you up all sweet and blue,” he bullied.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your breath left your body, remembering how good it felt for him to punish you. When you looked at him again you saw an egotistical smirk had plastered itself onto his face.

“Problem s’that you didn’t disobey me tonight, so how could I possibly punish you when you were being such a sweetheart? Sayin’ thank you after opening every one of your gifts and offerin’ to help out.“ His tone was sadistic, taunting…

“Well, it is my birthday…” You said grinning. A heat burned through the pit of your stomach and spilled into your panties. “…and no one’s given me my birthday spankings yet.”

He remained quiet opting to run his hands up your arms until they cradled your face, thumbs stroking your lips and cheeks.

“You gonna count ‘em for me?” He whispered without breaking eye contact.

You smirked and kissed him tenderly. “Yes, sir.”

He pointed at your bed where you went to bend over the edge for him.

His boots softly knocked against the hardwood floor as he paced behind you, pondering in his head how he wanted to proceed.

Despite the curiosity that made you want to turn around and ask him questions, you stayed still and quiet until he gave you your first instruction.

“Take your shorts off.”

You reached for the button and zipper before pushing the denim down until it met your knees on the floor. Your hips wiggling more than necessary.

“No panties?” He said amusedly. You heard his body move behind you so that he became eye level with your ass. “You must’a really wanted that present from me tonight, huh?”

You nodded your head and reached under your stomach, using both hands to spread yourself for him. “I’ve been touching myself all weekend thinking about it.”

Joel stifled a moan at the sight of the creamy precum that revealed itself between your swollen lips.

You flinched and yelped at the sudden feeling of his middle finger spreading your cum around your tight hole making him smile.

“Rub your clit f’me, baby,” he rasped.

Licking your lips you rested your head down on the bed before listening to him; your ring and middle fingers rubbed perfect loops on your bud while your pinkie finger kept your cunt spread for his eyes.

He glanced at your ass which was still marked from his abuse nights prior.

“My God, girl… These my bruises?” He asked wanting to hear your submission.

“No one else I’d let do this to me,” you breathed out.

His calloused hands gripped and massaged your butt for a few quiet moments until a firm smack landed on your left cheek.

His touch left your body as he anticipated a verbal response from you but it took too long for you to compose yourself.

You were just so fucking eager for his fingers to dance around your cunt that you made the mistake of forgetting the arrangement that occurred only two minutes prior.

“I don’t hear you countin’, girl,” he warned.

“Shit,” you whispered, “sorry—“

He interrupted you with another smack, only this one landed on your spread lips.

“Ah!” You yelped, quickly burying your face into your sheets. It stung ruthlessly. “One… And two…”

You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mean smirk on his face burning into the back of your skull. “Take too long t’answer me again… You get the rest on that pretty little pussy a’yours. Understand?”

Your knees braced into the floor as you nodded. “Yes, I understand, Joel.”

“Mm,” he hummed grumpily. “Good.”

Smack.

“Three,” you hissed.

Smack.

“Four…”

Smack!

The pain was starting to get to you in the best way possible.

You knew that for the next week anytime you would sit down on your bruised cheeks you’d remember how Joel took care of you in the way you wanted him to.

One spanking in exchange for one orgasm — that’s how you saw it anyway. He wasn’t into unnecessary punishment, but he went into this knowing he’d find a way to make it worth your while however you saw fit.

Joel only dominated you because you dominated him in every other aspect. When it came to sex he lived to serve you. So if 23 spankings is what you wanted, well then… What kind of man would he be to deny you of that?

By the end of the torture, you didn’t even want to think about sitting down for the next two weeks.

Joel saw your reflection in the mirror hanging from your closet, watching those red and puffy lips curl into a beautiful smile.

“Dunno how much longer we got, girl,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Best make it quick.”

Your eyes softly close and you bite your lip, giggling and moaning at how his southern drawl sounded especially sexy tonight. He noticed how lazily you were acting and laughed.

“You already fucked stupid?” He said with a small smile.

You turned onto your back, hissing at the pressure on your ass but giggling again at his annoyed tone and pursed lips. “Hmm… Maybe.”

Joel opened his mouth to say something but you raised your feet to rub against the growing bulge in his worn jeans. He watched your bottom lip get stuck between your rows of teeth, shining a drunken smile at him.

“You wanna play around, girl?” He flirted, a crooked show of his grin sending chills throughout your body.

“Wanna feel you, deep…” You let out a strained moan, cunt gripping so tight around nothing your precum slid out.

His fingers slid to the bulky strap of his belt and pulled it from his waist so fast it ended with a snap.

“So pretty like this…” He whispered as he sprung his cock free from its restraints.

Your face warmed with blush and your nipples stiffened at the sight of his dick: so hard it only slightly curved to the right, with a red hot angry tip beaming with a thick droplet of precum.

He leveled with your body and slid into you slowly, not wanting to risk making you moan louder than the walls could handle.

“Need you to be quiet for me, baby,” he whispered, “can ya do that f’me?”

Your eyes were shut, lips still between your teeth as you hummed and mewled. You nodded, looping his curls around the webs of your fingers and legs around his soft waist.

A breathy grunt escaped his mouth. His breath hit just below your ear making your skin prickle with goosebumps.

As his hips softly crashed into yours you felt yourself tensing at the sound of people outside and downstairs. You’d managed to forget your father’s friends were still here, and any one of them could walk upstairs to use the restroom only to hear the soft squeak of your bed frame—your father could.

Joel was just so easy to get lost in. His scent, his pretty smile, his touch… The way his tongue lapped at your neck like a cat would milk. How his hands cradled your waist and thighs. When he’d move his head up just for a moment to look into your heavy eyes.

God, you were a fucking mess.

His cock slid effortlessly against your needy walls, pressing deeply into that perfect spot at an angle you’d never felt before. And fucking hell, you wanted to say his name shamelessly. Scream it and plaster it onto the fucking walls if you could.

You did everything in your power to keep quiet, struggling from how your bruised ass stung even more every time his body crashed into you.

Joel bit the meat on your shoulder to shut himself up. His body yearning to fill you up with his precious seed was almost distracting. Almost.

“Doin’ so good f’me, girl,” he whispered into your chest, the pace increasing. “Might need t’cum.”

“Joel,” you whined, not needing anything more. Your fingers tightened in his hair and your head was thrown back into the mess of your blankets.

The knot in your tummy twisted, curling tightly around itself. You let out too loud of a breath that turned into a moan, but nothing too incriminating.

“Do not make me have to pull out and stop, now,” he rasped before taking two fingers and shoving them into your desperately open mouth.

You choked at the surprise but settled down and bit at his knuckles.

His face pressed into one of your tits as another desperate attempt to keep quiet, but all he had to do was feel you cumming to finish himself. Joel’s cock was sensitive and overwhelmed, and despite his best efforts to keep going for the sake of satisfying you he just couldn’t fucking take it.

You pouted and tried to pull him back in after he slipped from inside you to no avail.

“M’sorry, princess,” he huffed, annoyed with himself. “Can’t handle you sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes but saw the disappointment on his face as he buckled his pants back up.

“Just sneak over tonight,” you flirted, “suck me dry.”

He smirked at your coy smile and slid your bottoms back onto your hips. “I’ll do what I can,” he promised.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, cowboy.”

It had been about a week since your birthday, and Joel did indeed sneak over to give you your well-deserved orgasm, give or take three more.

And his real birthday present was a small Eiffel Tower; he had remembered how you’d always wanted to visit Paris. While he wasn’t the most superstitious or spiritual man he said he’d hope it would bring you good luck with traveling for fashion.

Your dad on the other hand had been quite distant since that night and you wondered if he saw or maybe even heard something that gave your little secret away. Your dirty lies. Had they finally caught up to you?

Or were you just overthinking things? Maybe he’s just been moody or tired or in hermit mode. It could have been lots of things, right?

Needless to say, it was a shock when he called you downstairs as soon as you were done with your shower.

“Hey Dad, what’s up?” You asked as you entered the kitchen.

“You tell me,” he grumbled, eyeing you as you sat down.

“Ummm, the apocalypse is happening and flesh-eating monsters are taking over,” you answered sarcastically. When his facial expression didn’t even change in the slightest you stopped joking. “Uh, I…don’t know…”

“Whose shirt is this?”

A dull brown and red flannel was tossed onto the island and you just knew your face gave you away.

“Dad—“

“Don’t lie to me either,” he said between gritted teeth.

Your father already knew it was Joel’s, you knew that. But he always gave you the opportunity to take accountability for your actions. Not like it made him less mad, it just softened the blow.

“Where did you find it?” You asked, voice shaking.

“Yesterday,” he said after some hesitation, “you were at work for your last day. I was doin’ your laundry and there it was, as plain as day.”

You shut your eyes, a tear of embarrassment rolling down your cheek that you wiped away swiftly. “It’s Joel’s.”

“Why is it here?”

You looked at him with eyes that begged for him to not ask, but his face was hardened.

“Because Joel was here,” you reluctantly answered.

“When.”

“A… A few times.”

“Why?!”

The tension was suffocating; you figured you were already caught so you may as well admit to everything—well, not everything if you could help it.

“Because we’ve been seeing each other,” you said softly, leaning your forehead onto your hand. “Since I got back, we’ve been seeing each other. Sometimes I go there, sometimes he comes here.”

“Since you got back?”

You nodded and faced him again, fighting your tears. It wasn’t that you were sad or worried about what your dad may have done, you just wished you were more honest from the start.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I made the first move. I was trying to get over my boyfriend and… He was there… And it just sort of happened.“

“S’good thing you’re going back to New York soon.”

Your heart sank—had your dad forgotten when you said you were thinking of staying in Austin to stay close? Not just for Joel, but everybody. Your family, your friends, you wanted to be near when Sarah graduated. You missed life in Texas, too much to go back to New York State so soon.

“I—I told you I wanted to stay, that I was thinking of staying close,” you rambled, “did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. You’re not allowed to see him anymore. You in New York makes sure that happens.”

“Wh—not allowed?!” You almost laughed. “I’m twenty-five, I make my own decisions.”

“He’s too old for you,” he said.

You scoffed, standing up. “I’m not some mentally incompetent eighteen-year-old, Dad. I’m a grown woman dating a grown man!”

“Not here! Not when you’re living in my house.”

“Well, then I will just fucking move out!”

You ignored his protests and calls for you, feeling like a grounded teenager all over again.

What you and Joel had was fickle, you knew that. You weren’t stupid. It wasn’t built on a foundation, it was hardly dating even though you wanted it to be more.

Your dad would come around someday. Hell, maybe he would have already had you been honest from the start.

“Hey, Sarah, is your dad home?” You stiffly asked.

She frowned at your puffy eyes and red nose, looking over her shoulder before saying, “Uh, n—no, but he’s just runnin’ a bit late from work. Why don’t you come in and wait for him? He should be back any minute.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t wanna impose. Just tell him to call me when he gets some free time, please?”

“You sure?”

You nodded, not necessarily trusting your voice anymore with how you were choking up from your tears.

Sarah’s shoulders dropped and she insisted you come in. “Come on, it’s starting to rain.”

After a moment of hesitation, you followed her inside after picking your bag up, wiping your nose, and clearing your throat.

Sarah was kind enough to bring you a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down a couple of cushions away.

“Are you breaking up with my dad or something?” She asked after a minute or two.

“What?”

“He told me a couple days ago, but I already figured because I heard him talking to you on the phone a while ago. Something about missing you,” she explained.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, I…” You sighed and looked at your hands. “I wish I was there to tell you.”

“No, that’s okay! I think it’s kinda cool. A little weird, but cool.” She assured. “But are you? Breaking up with him, I mean.”

“No, well at least I hope not,” you chuckled softly. “My father isn’t a very forgiving man.”

“He just wants to protect you. My dad said that’s just what fathers do. I’m sure he’ll come around someday.”

“Thanks, Sarah.”

The lock clicks soon followed by the door creaking open; you and Sarah watch as Joel walks in with empty hands before he notices you sitting on his couch. A look of worry spread across his face.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Sarah chirped while standing up. “She just came by to see us.” Sarah walked into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Joel sat next to you and gestured at the ground. “Why do you have a bag?”

“Oh, I’m just going to stay with a friend for a few days,” you said.

He nodded reluctantly, sensing your nervousness. “Your dad find out?”

A wave of sadness took over you again, but you managed your tears away better this time. You only offered a nod, nails picking at a loose thread on your jeans.

“Why don’t you stay the night? I was gonna make steak for dinner.”

“I—I don’t wanna… Impose.”

He chuckled. “What d’you mean impose? You’re my girlfriend.”

Letting out a surprised sound, you frowned and looked around the room incredulously while Joel just stared at you anxiously.

“Girlfriend?”

He shrugged, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “Well. You are my girlfriend, right?”

“You never asked,” you laughed.

His eyes were a mix of amusement and surprise. “My apologies, darlin’. Forgive me for not having been gentleman enough.” He takes your hand earning a laugh from you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so sappy,” you teased before giving him a peck on the cheek. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

“I dunno what I’m gon’ do,” you said softly.

You and Joel had been in bed for a couple of hours just talking about everything, with Sarah sound asleep in her room; the three of you had watched one of Joel’s favorite movies and Sarah gave him a fixed watch.

You shifted up to rest on your elbow and looked down at him. “How much longer you think he’ll be mad?”

“I don’t know, princess,” he said after sucking his teeth. “He doesn’t tend to hold grudges but I know he’s more mad at me. F’it’s any consolation.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned down to kiss him. His hand cupped your jaw just firm enough to keep you still. Your lips tangled with his, fingers reaching up to clasp his curls; he climbed on top of you carefully, humming on the tip of your tongue.

He began to grind and hump eliciting moans from you both while his right hand got to work beneath your shirt, thumbing the nipple just enough to tickle you.

Your hand snaked between your bodies to find the opening of his boxers; you pulled his velvety cock out and pumped it gently whilst not bothering to touch yourself as your panties were already pooling.

Your heart ached with so much pain and at the same time so much love. You needed Joel. In every fucking way possible for as long as you’d be blessed to have him.

His lips broke free from yours to greet your neck, then your collarbone, before planting around your now exposed breast.

You exhaled at his warm tongue swirling saliva around your peaked bud, sending waves of shivers down your arching spine.

“Joel,” you whispered leaning into his gentle touch.

With a throbbing clit and a slippery cunt you felt weak beneath him. You were enamored with pleasure that it overtook your body. You couldn’t control your breathing or your trembling. Hand awkwardly shifting around his shaft.

He took your other nipple into his hot mouth, shirt bunched around your arching neck. With daunting hands he traced the hem of your panties, pulling at them carefully.

He sat on his knees to undress your legs, adjusting so his cock lined up with your entrance. He slid in slowly, knowing the lack of foreplay could ruin this.

But it didn’t.

Your walls burned with a stretch so delicious it set your skin on fire. It took everything in you to not moan as loudly as your body begged to.

A soft gasp only leaving your lips, your head lolling back, eyes clenching shut… Yeah. Joel knew how to fucking work you.

Your walls clung to him fearing even just a moment of loss. His eyes burned into your feverish skin, watching the rise and fall of your chest and stomach as you took in deep breaths.

“You feel so good,” he whispered into your collarbone, placing a sloppy kiss on it afterward. “I lo—“

A pause in his voice made your eyes fly open; his hips stuttered the same way his voice did signaling something was wrong.

Joel’s heart punched against yours, but he kept grinding into you like he hadn’t spoken at all. Oh, but all the worry was written in his eyes.

“Joel?” You softly asked between moans.

He took in the softness of your hands cradling his uneven stubble. He hummed and kissed the meat of your palm before biting it gently.

You fought the nerves in your voice. Everything inside your body screamed that this was wrong, yet as you looked into his eyes your heart swelled with admiration for the man that helped you find pieces of yourself again.

“I love you too,” you finally said.

He stopped moving his body against yours and he just stared at you. He was conflicted with whether or not you said that only because he almost did.

But when you said it again and tightened your legs around his waist to affirm it he gave you a gentle kiss, finding his tongue bumping into yours along the way. Pulling back, Joel finished his sentence.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” You teased.

But his face remained serious, eyes boring into yours.

After a few more silent seconds Joel laid his head into the curve of your neck and began riding into you again. Hips rolling into you, breath hitting your neck, and hands gripping the sheets.

Your body was hot as molten lava, melting into the mattress. Joel felt so safe, so beautifully safe. Safe enough to say, “I love you,” in his ear over and over again, his voice overlapping yours with the same words.

He took care of you that night. Letting you immerse yourself into enjoying every damn thing he gave you. His grunts staggered and turned into short hisses of pain as you bit into his shoulder to keep quiet. That’s what fueled him: the pain of your undying desire.

He reached deeper inside of you than he ever dared to before, reaching reaching reaching to find your soul and bear all commitment to it. To serve you, as his gravelly voice whispered, “I fucking live for you.”

“I love you, Joel,” you responded. “It’s you and me. Forever. Us against the world.” A tear made its way from your eye to his forehead.

He kissed the trail the tear left and repeated you. “Us against the world.”

It was just sex talk — usually is, but Joel always knew what words would just make you fucking cum. Those words dripped from his lips like a poisonous honey for you to lap up and savor.

He wanted you cumming all over his sheets cock to fucking mean something. To permeate his love anywhere it could stain.

Joel had started to cum just a second before you did, forcing him to let out a moan. You held his head to your chest while he cradled your back.

Your head buzzed the same way it would when you got high, only it felt better. Quieter. More immersive. Your back arched into his touch and the rolling of his hips kept you in that limbo. Not here nor there. You were right where you needed to be, whatever that fucking meant.

You managed to keep quiet a little better than him, giggling softly when he just plopped down onto you after you had both come down.

He stayed like that for a few minutes while you just stroked the curls by his ear, his other one listening to your heartbeat slow down.

“I’ll get ya cleaned up,” he cooed, and just as he finished dressing his phone began to ring. He just answered it as he walked to the bathroom, letting you rest some more. A few minutes later, he came back and wiped wherever you asked. “I gotta go help Tommy real quick with somethin’. W’ya stay here, keep an eye and ear out for Sarah?” He asked.

“Yeah, for sure. Be safe.”

You shared a kiss with him again before looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Shit. 11:32 PM.

“Joel?” He looked back at you with a raised eyebrow. “Happy Birthday,” you said with a smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

-

taglist: @paleidiot @sarap-77 @mmeereaa (cant tag) @ssweetart42

[sofasoap]

Lastochka - in the hanger

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: You miss the intimate sessions with your husband after all the hectic missions and life. you decided to seek him out in the hanger.

WARNING: Explicit. Smut. Sub/Dom relationship. Safe words used. safe sex. Talk of consent.

per usual, half sleep brain when read through, might have lot of mistakes.

A/N : got so inspired by Nikolai's appearance in the MW 3 game, my smut brain just switched on. ( don't worry. No mention of spoiler. and its deviating from canon anyway. STUFF YOU CANON. )

Thanks to my moots keep feeding me with smutty ideas to add into the fics. you know who you are.

Lastochka series

masterlist

“Hello Commander.” 

Nikolai’s hand stopped in the track. Putting his tools down,he turned around and looked down from the top of the helicopter. 

The overly exaggerated smile, the way you carry yourself, hands behind your back, swing your body left to right, battering your eyes. 

He cocked up an eyebrow.  You are plotting something. He knows his wife well. 

And you are calling him COMMANDER. You definitely want something from him.

Perhaps something he might like too.

“Something I can help you with, my dear Lastochka?” He asked you in a lighthearted tone as he walked down from the steps, wiping his hand on the rug. Throwing the spanner down into the toolbox and swagger towards you.  You flash him another bright smile as you walk up towards him to meet him near the workbench. 

“I am just here to remind my dear husband to take a break.” you brought out a flask and a container from behind your back. “You've been on this since early morning. I just thought you might want something to snack on.”

“And stealing my jacket at the same time??” he asked as he nodded at you, licking his lips.He would be lying if it didn't make him a bit possessive and his cock twitch seeing you draped in his oversize jacket. He loves seeing you wearing his clothing, both in public and private. Subtly showing everyone that you belong to him. 

You pouted. “I didn’t steal it.. I’m just borrowing it. Do you want it back? It’s getting a bit hot in this anyway.” Putting down the containers and flask onto the workbench, you start to unzip the jacket, ready to take it off. He immediately grabbed your hand to stop you. 

Oh, his bold little bird. 

“What’s the matter?” your eyes widen with a fake surprise tone of voice. Tilting your head slightly as you extract your hands from his grip, you look up into his eyes and put your arms around his shoulder.

Nikolai exhaled, eyes dropping down towards your exposed breast, before flicking back up. 

"I'm trying to get this heli fixed, little bird." he warned in a husky voice. But his hands betrays him as it wanders towards your ass,  lightly grabbing it. 

"I’m sure you will need a break sometime.. "You smiled innocently at him while playing with his hair. Pushing your body closer to him, you slid your hand down towards his crotch, palming his arousal.

“And there is no one around at the moment….I thought..”

“You thought you could seduce your husband into giving you a good pounding while he is all sweaty and hot.” Nikolai smirked as he finished your sentence. “Don’t worry my gorgeous little bird, My cock is always hard and ready to please the wife at any time.”

“Nikolai!” you pouted, hitting his chest, pretending to be all appalled. 

“I am right, aren’t I?” Nikolai leans down, ghosting his lips over yours. “Just say the word, my Lastochka.” 

Grabbing his chain to close the gap for the kiss, tongues entwined. Your other hand fumbled to find his belt, unclipping it before reaching up and starting to unzip his flight suit. Nikolai pulls away and grabs your chin with his thumb and forefingers, staring down at you.

“Didn’t I say use your words?” He tutted. “Always the one asking for punishment. First for stealing my jacket.. Now not asking for permission…” 

You pursed your lip, letting out a little huff. “ Why do I have to…” 

“You walked all the way here, wearing nothing underneath?” he whistled. Your head rolls back as he kneads your breast with one hand, the other one working on undoing your pants before yanking it off from you. “So eager to please your husband?” he chuckled. 

“Because I am your COMMANDER, Lastochka.” he growled, cutting you off. “A good soldier listens to their superior. You should know better, Little bird. Now prepare to face the consequences.” he nudges your body, forcing you to walk backwards, nearly falling into the cabin of the helicopter if he wasn’t holding onto you. He gently guided you to sit before pushing you to lie down onto the floor.

Nikolai stood back up, unzipping his flight suit down to expose his fully erected cock. Sliding his belt off from his waist, he leaned forward, unzipped your jacket as well, to fully expose your naked body underneath. 

“As always….  “ you whispered an airy reply, eyes roamed up and down his body and opened your legs wide. “Your Lastochka is always ready for you..” 

Satisfied with your answer, he smiled as he picked up the belt that was discarded on the side before, and grabbed both of your hands and tied them together with the belt. 

“Word, my little bird?” 

You whispered the safe word into his ear and gave him a kiss on the cheek, granting him permission to proceed. You can feel his smirk as he turns his head to return a kiss. 

You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress a moan as Nikolai pushes your tied up arm over your head, dragging you forward by your leg to get closer. He thrust his hip forward, slowly grinding his hardened cock against your dripping pussy.

“Always so wet for me. What a good girl. Maybe I can make it wetter.” he cooed as he slid his gloved hand between, inserting his middle finger through the slit, curling it up to find your sweet spot.  You let out an unrestrained moan as he inserted another finger, and another, lightly thumbing your clit, but making no attempt to move his fingers inside you at all. 

“Move…I want.... Give me more..”  you hummed, bucking your hip, trying to get some thrusting movement to get the relief you've been craving for. 

“Where are you manners, Little bird?.” he scolded, pulling his fingers out. You whimpered and tried to move your arms from his restrain, but his grip only tightened.

“Please Commander..” 

“Please what?” 

“Please.. I want you to touch me … make me feel good.” you begged, almost sobbing.“ Please I want it back in..” 

“Good girl.” sliding his fingers back in, moving them in and out slowly few times, before he starts to speed up.  “See? Being polite gets you what you want.” he cooed.

There is something about making you squirming underneath him, looking at him with lust hazed eyes, mouth slightly parted, breast heaving up and down begging and whining for him to make you come hard makes him feel exhilarated.  That sense of satisfaction, knowing that its him, and only him, can make his beautiful sparrow unravel so easily under his manipulation. 

He can feel your walls tightening and breath starting to hitch. He knows you are getting closer to the peak. He leans over and nuzzles his nose against your neck, before biting and licking it. 

Arching your back, you couldn’t care less if someone else could walk into the hanger and hear the wanton scream as you hit the blessing high. He held you down with his arm and body as he kept pumping his fingers through your orgasm, cum drenching his glove and dripping onto the floor of the cabin. 

Holding up his hand, Nikolai slowly licks his palm, while staring into your eyes. “I only cleaned the floor yesterday. Now you have dirtied it again.” he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Looks like I have to give the source of the problem a good clean out…” 

Letting go of your hand, he starts shuffling down south of your body, dotting your hot and sweaty skin with kisses along the way until he reaches your cunt, still glistening with the juices that are weeping out. He flick his tongue on  your clit a few times before diving into it, sucking and licking in earnest. 

“Nik.. Nik…” you moaned, still sensitive from the orgasm from not long ago. “It’s.. it’s too much…please…” you squirmed as your tied up hands grabbed onto his hair, trying to ground yourself. 

He raised his head, eyeing you from between your legs. “Use the words,Lastochka, if it’s too much for you.”

You shook your head, sniffing, part of you wanted him to stop, but the lust won over, you just let your head fall back onto the floor, as he went back down to continue his work. 

The slurping, the sucking, the obscene wet sloppy sound  made you hit your second orgasm fast and hard, you let out a small yelp before everything went blank. You could only feel your legs shaking and Nikolai’s strong arm holding them apart, preventing it clamping his head. 

The sound of his deep chuckle pulls you back slowly to reality. Still dazed with your second orgasm, he pulls you up into the sitting position to straddle him, and kisses you lazily. The taste of your own sex strong on his tongue as he deepens his kiss. 

“Can’t let me do all the work by myself. Now, be a good little bird, time to please your husband with your nice little cunt.” he ordered after he finally pulled away from your mouth. He lifted your arms over his head, letting it rest on his shoulder as you let him help you to lift your body up from your still orgasm weakened legs. He stroked his hard cock few times, hand still wet with your cum, and guided you to drop yourself onto it. 

You loll your head down,leaning against his shoulder, letting out a long whiney moan as you feel him stretch you wide and hit the deep end all in one go. He didn’t give you much time to adjust, pulling you up by your waist before slamming you down again, letting out a satisfying purr each time he repeats the action.

“Ah, look at you my Lastochka,” he praised you as he started thrusting his own hip upwards.  “Serving your husband so well, clenching around my cock with your drenching hot pussy, making me happy.” The only sound you could make was a throaty whimper as you lifted your head from his shoulder and leaned away from him and rolled your hip, hands sliding from cupping the back of his head towards his neck, instinctively grabbing onto his gold chain as you try to get more friction against your clit. 

“Come on my pretty bird. I know you still have more in you.” says Nikolai as he glides one hand down towards your ass, and the other up towards your neck, grabbing onto it lightly. “Give me one more. Just one more….” 

“... not…not before you filled me up Commander..” you begged, nearly out of breath from getting so close to your next orgasm, trying hard not to tip over the edge. “I want you..you.. To come inside me first….” 

“Giving out orders now, are we?” he growled as pulls your body back in closer, pulling your head back slightly, grazing his teeth over the skin of your neck. “Remember who is in charge here, I decide when you cum, and where I want to cum.” he snarled as he punctuated his words with hard snaps of his hip. “But.’ he softened his tone slightly, “Since you've been an obedient girl before… I will let it slide this time.” he moved his mouth towards your ear, whispering in a husky voice. “Come for me now, right now. And you will get your fill. And more rewards later on if you are lucky..” 

Your body reacts automatically with his words. You sobbed as you spasm around his hard length, and you can hear him growling at the same time as he hits his own peak, coating your inside with his own spent, mixing with your own cum, feeling the wetness soaking both of your sexes and thigh as it leaks out with the thrust. 

“Feeling alright there little bird?”  Nikolai murmured into your ears as he held you tight against him, checking up on you after both of you held onto each other tight, recovering from the orgasm.

“I am alright.. Just give me a second.” You lean into his heaving chest, listening to his pounding heart. You close your eyes,  also trying to catch your own breath, with Nikolai’s hand caressing your neck. you were utterly spent after three consecutive rounds. It’s been a while since you had such an intense session with him. But you don’t mind it. 

“I miss this.“you whispered after a few minutes of silence, nuzzling into his chest. “You spend too much time with your other Lastochka. You need someone else to help you.”

You miss his touch. His hands, the dirty talks into your ears. the way his eyes undresses you and make you burn with want and desire. 

You miss him. 

“You know I don’t like anyone touching my Lastochka.” he kisses your temple. The double meaning doesn't escape you. “But I am sorry.”

“You better be.” you pouted. “Now you really need a break. After all that..”

“ I never need a break.” he chuckled, you feel his cock getting hard again inside you. “Not when I am trying to please my little bird.”

Well, the coffee is gonna get cold. 

“Commander, you there?  Here's the list you were….. Ёбаный пиздец!!”  

“ Ooop. Someone found us.”

“Nikolai!!!! Shut up and go check on poor Yuri!!” 

Yuri couldn't look at you in the eyes for weeks after.

Tag list

@homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan@roosterrr@preciouslittlecreature @gamergirlbones@whydoilikewhump @alypink @ashwasherelol @okayyadriana @liyanahelena @miyabilicious @caramlizedtomatoes @deadbranch @celshideout @merkitty49 @abbeyrjm-blog @shyravenns @okamimarta

@jojoblossom,