#instead of just spinning everything in your head forever

[unluckystreak]

one thing that fucks me up when i'm writing (or really want to write) is that i feel like i have to figure out the PERFECT place to start. like i have an idea and i like it and i want to start writing it. but i don't know where to start or even how to start it. so instead i waste days, weeks, or even MONTHS, trying to plan out and outline the perfect beginning and how everything connects. but the thing is... that doesn't actually get me anywhere. i just kind of sit there and overthink and waste time. planning is great and all, but don't let it turn into a whole project in itself. you're just gonna spin your wheels and not go anywhere.

[darknight3904]

All Yours, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇ��ᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.

ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.

ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.

"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.

"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.

It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.

"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror

"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever

"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.

You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.

"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.

"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.

"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips

"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips

Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.

He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.

"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.

"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo

"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile

"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.

"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.

These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.

"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"

"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"

"Who did your hair for the evening?"

"Are you going to have the future president's children?"

"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"

"How many toes do you have?"

God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.

You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.

However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.

Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.

You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.

"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear

"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask

"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."

And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.

"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said

You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.

"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.

"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."

For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.

"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.

The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.

"What's your name?" You ask

"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."

"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.

"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.

"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.

From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.

"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.

"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.

"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused

"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.

"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.

"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.

"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.

"Of course, always " You reply honestly

"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.

"Them?" You ask

"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.

"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.

"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.

You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.

"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.

"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.

"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.

"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.

"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.

"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?

Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.

"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.

A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.

Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.

"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.

You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.

Part Three

Series Masterlist

Read the Teaser here

So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.

If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)

Taglist:

@bl0ndelilac

@lucygreene

@lwqfhp

@belle643

@fantasylovestoryme

@alana4610

@threeinchminimum

@dangelnleif

@hannaeditzs

@1950schick

@ennycutie

@janelongxox

@ajs-222

@or-was-it-just-a-dream

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@405rry @folklorde24

@eir964

@charlesswife

@fangirling-galore

[hoshifighting]

oiiiii

hey, 👋 a big fan of your parents work (which is you)

and also a great fan of your works too!!

you're so sassy and lovely, a real role model btw.

I got a good fic idea and you are the only one I think can do proper justice to it.

rough sex from a nonsensical fight between the reader and seungcheol. the man ends up taking her from behind on the couch, but ends up having the reader's back to his chest, one hand down the other holding her throat kinda, and he accidentally says something so dumb, they both stop and start laughing. same position everything, they just are laughing and that sex turns to soft one. yeahh sorry about that.

😭

sex after a fight with seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, silly fight, choking, dirty talk, mentions of body fluids (cum), clit stimulation, afab reader, seungcheol saying smth cringey bc hehehe a/n: def telling them about this compliment HASHAHAUHAUHA, and thank you sm 😭😭 on my sassy era I think? heehheeh

“why the fuck are you so bossy, cheol?” your voice cuts through the living room, breathless, already hoarse from the way he’s been handling you like a doll for some time already.he doesn’t answer—he’s too busy burying himself inside your drenched cunt from behind, his hand splayed across the small of your back, pushing you into the couch cushions like you’re meant to stay there forever. the smack of his hips against you echoes in the room, like he’s trying to fuck his frustration right into you.

“you’re the one who—fuck—” you gasp, fingers clawing at the couch. “—started this. you put the stupid picture on the wrong wall.”he lets out a low, guttural laugh, breathless and mocking, like you’re the one being ridiculous. “wrong wall?” his voice trickles with sarcasm, like you’re talking about world peace instead of home decor. “it’s my fucking apartment too.” “it’s not just yours—”he pulls you up without warning, your back flush against his chest, his arm wrapping tight around your waist to keep you steady. “you really wanna fight about this now?” your head tilts back on his shoulder, and his other hand comes up to your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. his fingers don’t tighten—just rest there, like a warning—like, he still can choke you.

“you’re so fucking stubborn,” he growls, his lips brushing your ear, making your skin prickle. his hips don’t stop, not even for a second. “every damn thing’s a fight with you.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a—shit!—control freak—” your sentence shatters into a moan as his free hand slips between your thighs, fingers working your clit over until you’re gasping, your chest heaving.

“what was that?” he mocks, “didn’t catch that, baby.”

your nails dig into his forearm as you throw your head back. “i said—you’re a—bossy prick—”

his grip tightens just enough on your throat to shut you up.

his hand tightens just the right amount, that perfect sweet spot where your head spins a little, but it’s the way his fingers don’t even falter on your clit that gets you. he feels it—of course he feels it—the way your clit pulses under his fingers at the same time your walls clamp down around him, like your body’s completely giving you away.

cheol’s known you for years. too many nights fucking you, too many fights that ended like this—he knows you too well. knows how you get all sensitive when you’re this close.

so, of course, the fucker pulls out.

“ah-ah, nooo! cheol—what the fuck!?” your voice breaks into this desperate whine, your thighs trembling as you claw at his arm.

he just smirks, like this is a game to him. “shhh,” he hushes, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder before lifting his hand and landing a sharp slap to your ass.

“cheol—!” you snap, twisting your neck to glare at him, but he’s just laughing. the kind of cocky laugh that makes you want to slap him back—except he looks too fucking good, his flushed face and that messy, sweaty hair making you forget your anger for a second.

“that ass sounds like a drum babe” he chuckles.

you freeze. he freezes.

and then you’re laughing, full-on cracking up, hystericaly “what the fuck did you just say?!”

cheol’s face goes bright red, and he buries it in the curve of your neck, trying to hide. “sorry i—oh my god,” he groans, muffled against your skin, though he’s laughing, too—embarrassed and shaking with it. “just shut up, i don’t know why i said that.”

you’re wheezing at this point, your stomach hurting. “a drum, cheol? seriously?”

he huffs, still trying to hide his face, but his hand sneaks up to squeeze one of your tits, like it’s his way of punishing you for laughing too hard, trying to distract you while rolling your nipple with his thumb. you break a moan, but cant stop laughing.

“quit it,” he mutters. “you’re gonna kill the mood.”

“the mood’s dead, babe,” you gasp, wiping at your eyes as you keep giggling. “you killed it. murdered it.”

“shut uuuup!” he whines, but he’s still laughing, his body shaking against yours.

somehow—somehow—he slides back inside you, still chuckling, the both of you grinning like idiots. every time he thrusts, the moans stutters for a second because one of you bursts into another fit of laughter.

“okay, okay, seriously—stop laughing,” cheol says, exasperated, amused as you’re still choking on giggles. his hand smacks your thigh this time, not too hard. but it only makes you laugh harder, your whole body shaking against his.

“i can’t!” you gasp, turning your head to catch his flushed face out of the corner of your eye. “you called my ass a drum, cheol. you banged your way into that one.”

he groans like he’s suffering, but his smirk gives him away. “you’re gonna regret that.”

you scoff, not buying it. “what are you gonna do? write a—fuck!”

you barely get the word out before his arms snake around you, pulling you flush against his chest like you’re a doll he can just position however he wants. his lips brush your ear, and his voice drops into that low, syrupy tone that’s made you weak since day one. “told you I know how to shut you up.”

his hand dips between your legs again, fingers finding your clit like it’s second nature, you forget how to breathe for a second. the other hand stays firm on your chest and arms, holding you pressed tight against him so there’s nowhere for you to go. his hips move deep so you feel his wet tip hitting your cervix, he makes you feel every inch of him.

“oh my god,” you whimper, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“there she is,” he murmurs. “what happened to all that laughing, huh? gone now?” you try to bite back a moan, but it comes out anyway, and he chuckles, smug as hell. “yeah, that’s what I thought.”

you lean your cheek against his, feeling the scratch of his little facial hair. “cheol—ngh.. baby!”

“mm?” his voice is too relaxed, like he’s not busy fucking you into next week. “what’s up, baby?”

“don’t—don’t stop, gonna cum.” you gasp.

“wasn’t planning on it,” he says, and you can feel the smirk pressed against your jaw. his fingers move faster, matching the pace of his hips, and you’re melting, just like he knew you would. “but... say it hm..” he says, . his fingers press harder against your clit, and your body jolts at the same timr. “say you’re mine, baby. let me hear it.”

“i’m yours,” you breathe, and the way his breath hitches makes your chest tighten.

“that’s right,” he mutters, his lips finding your jaw, kissing along the line of it, like he can’t get close enough. “mine. all fucking mine.”

you twist in his arms, turning just enough to catch his lips with yours, and the kiss is messy, desperate, tongue and need. his rhythm falters for a second, but then he’s right back at it, fucking into you so deep it’s all you can think about, his hand still working between your legs until you’re right on the edge again.

his name spills out of you, you crash over the edge, your body shaking in his arms. he holds you through it, his own movements growing rougher, until he’s groaning into your neck, his grip on you tightening as he fills your swollen cunt, the slick starting to drip from your folds.

“told you i’d shut you up.” he mumbles, his lips quirking up against your skin.

“shut up, cheol!” you mutter back, but there’s no heat in it. just warmth, just laughter, just him.

[xo-cod]

fluff with simon battling fatherhood. and he gets a lil sad reality check <3 :")

this was rushed but i love the idea of simon realising his family he had will never be able to see the family he's created 🥲🤍

"kids, hurry up" simon called out with a stern expression as he waited by the end of the stairs, strapping the baby carrier to his chest and placing his youngest inside gently. the small baby stirred softly, a sleepy mumble falling from her lips as she closed her eyes once more feeling the steady heartbeat of simon's chest

"comin' daddy!" he hears the thundering of small feet running down the stairs, bringing a soft smile of pride to his lips to see his girls

"c'mere munchkin" he bends carefully to his knees, mindful of the baby strapped to his chest, and helps hana with her ballet flats while amara places a headband in her hair lopsided as she looked back to simon again.

"where we goin'?" his 5 year old asks as she twirled a little to make her dress spin while she looked at simon with such innocence it makes him want to protect her forever from anything and everything

"amara you stepped on my feet!" hana, his three year old scowled as she pushed her older sister back with a huff. the other gasps a little in shock and then her small face crumples into annoyance as she huffed

"easy easy, none of that now, alright?" simon eyed his daughters with a firm look and they both sighed and nodded slowly

"where's mum?" amara looked around for you and simon clicked his tongue, fixing her lopsided headbanded to sit right on her tiny head once more

"mum's at a doctors appointment so you lot are comin with me to the supermarket" he responds, grabbing their coats from the side as he helps them in to it. he's already got snacks stashed away in the bag for when they start to get cranky halfway through and he hoped the shops wouldn't be an overly long trip

"who did mum go with?" kids and their never ending questions but it makes him chuckle a little at their curiosity, zipping up their small jackets to ensure their warmth

"she's gone with her mum, nana" he speaks again, standing back up carefully as he pressed a soft kiss to his baby on his chest. he just about grabbed his keys when one of his piped up again with yet another question

"oh... where's your mum daddy?" hana asks so innocently, it makes him pause. he could feel his heart beat heavily under his chest, picking up pace as he stares at his little girl again. her eyes hold so much wonder, so much interest it's so hard to answer

"she's... not here honey. she passed away years ago" he stroked her hair, reminiscing on the past for a few seconds as memories of his mother flew by in his head. from her helping him get ready for school to the doctors appointments to making him food, the memories hit him like a truck even years and years forward. memories of tommy and his wife flooding his head alongside his nephew. every milestone simon had ever reached was shared now to a grave instead of the warmth his family provided. every happy occasion, every huge goal was said in a soft prayer to the sky instead of being celebrated loudly.

having children was something simon thought wasn't possible not with the lifestyle he lived and the past he came from. but it happened, you entered his life and blessed him with three beautiful girls he cherished with every part of his heart. only him and tommy couldn't watch their children play together and grow together, there was no visiting simon's mom on the weekend as she cooked her famous roast for the family to share. those dreams died the day he buried his family 6 feet into the ground

"oh... m'sorry daddy" his girls have shifted their happy chatty demeanour to a more sad one as they notice their father lost in his thoughts. he's snapped out of his trance as he looks back down to the girls who barely come up to his knees with a soft chuckle as he sits down on one of the steps. cradling them in his arms in a gentle hug. he could see the sharpness of tommy's eyes in theirs, the placement of the soft dimple in their smiles just like his mothers. even if his family physically wasn't here, parts of them were always carried throughout

"nothin to be worry for, darling. i wish you could've met her, she would've loved you three" he chuckled fondly, his heart aching softly in his chest as he holds his daughters close. maybe one day when they get older, he'll explain the backstory of their late grandma and their late uncle but for now, he'll bear that burden alone

[star2fishmeg]

tattoo blurb in honor of lukeys birthday,, perhaps u get it as a birthday gift for him and he can’t keep himself together

Best bday present ever, in my opinion. This is longer than I expected oops. Happy birthday Luke!

You're supposed to meet everyone at the bar with Luke to celebrate his birthday in ten minutes, but instead, you're hurling yourself through his apartment complex with shopping bags and sweat dripping down your back. You were so late, but the traffic wasn't your fault and you had to give Luke his present before you left.

When Luke does answer the door, it's in a panic, eyes wide and he's pushed out the way as you barrel through his place, straight into the bedroom as he's left following you like a shadow, throwing his head back and groaning in irritation.

"Y/n, where were you, we're so late." He walks into his bedroom, voice laced with concern as he watches you dump your bags and remove your shoes, "Everyone is waiting."

"I'm so sorry, the traffic was awful," you pant, pulling your hoodie over your head, "but I have to give you your present before we leave."

"Can it wait? You still need to get ready-"

"-No, I've been waiting weeks for this," you point to the end of his bed, "sit."

He does as he'd told, and you turn away from him. Luke checks his watch impatiently, debating on whether he should text Jack about the further delay. He can't be too harsh on you though, usually, you were early to everything, usually, you were the one waiting on him to sort himself out. He looks up, jaw slacking and suddenly all the bubbling irritation dissolved into heat flushing to his neck, that tingly feeling surging through his body like electricity when his eyes lay on the sight of you pulling your jeans off, flashing a view of your ass clad in his favourite lace panties. Fantasies flood through his mind, potential gifts he's dreamed about in the upcoming weeks, ones that make his jeans tight as your shirt is discarded across his room, not that it was part of the gift, but it was going to come off anyway.

A grin crawls onto your lips upon hearing the way his breathing hitches. You've been itching to show him, tired of coming up with excuses as to why you couldn't sleep over, seeing it in the mirror and knowing that it'll drive Luke up the wall, in a good way, of course.

"Babe, you can't just do that without warning, you know what it does-" he begins, hands running over your thighs and pulling you closer between his legs. You giggled at him, not the cute giggle that sounds like summer sunsets and picnics on the docks, but the giggle that raises sirens in his head that he should brace himself for your antics.

You slowly spin to face him, excitement in your stomach and hands landing on his shoulders. Luke's grip on your hips tightens, his eyes flickering over the '43' tattooed on your bikini line, healed but tender and he feels his heart hammer in his chest. A quiet 'fuck' slips past his lips, thumb tracing gently over the ink.

"Happy birthday, Lu." You coo, bringing your hand to his hair and threading your fingers through his curls just the way he likes it, the way that makes his body melt into your touch.

He swears again. He's on your body. Forever. You've claimed him as yours and everyone will see that over the summer. You've declared your love, faith, and hope to him, making his chest bloom with joy. His lips tug into a grin and a lewd warmth pools to his core. He's looking at the hottest thing you've ever done. It's so hot he can't find the words, they're jumbled in his brain and the only clear thoughts swirling is how he never wants you to wear anything ever again, he wants to see it all the time. He wants to mark it, kiss it, and show you how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

"What do you think?" you ask, teasingly as his gaze remains on the tattoo, locked in a trance and you know exactly what's on his mind. What's got him worked up, ears tinted pink and knee bouncing.

He fumbles over his words, failing to formulate a coherent sentence, but eventually pulls himself together just enough to communicate exactly how you've lured him into a filthy paradise of consuming lust that sends him into overdrive. He doesn't look up when he speaks lowly, long fingers toying under your waistband, "You think I make you cum in the next five minutes?"

"I think you can do it in less."

[iluvapplesxh]

☞☞☞ Love Me Right ☜☜☜

summary: You felt like you were forever the problem, and you couldn't give Billie what she needs. Whereas she is determinded to prove you wrong.

warnings: angst, fluff (?), my writing, !english is not my 1st language!

A/N: went through all of Reneé's and half of Billie's songs while writing this :)

Billie watched you from afar-literally across the room-with a puzzled and worried expression on her face. Her chin was resting on the palm of her hand, arm propped up on the table she was sitting by. Her teeth nibbled at the soft tissue on the inside of her cheek as she watched your almost empty expression as you stared off into space, sitting on a random chair in your apartment.

Meanwhile, thousands and millions of thoughts ran through your mind while you sat there, jaw clenched tightly, expression hard seemingly glaring at a random spot on the wall.

You’ve been like this for a while, just thinking about…everything. 

That ‘everything’ mainly consisted of your fight with Billie an hour or so prior. You’ve been through this a hundred times, not with her, Gosh no. She was perfect. In every way possible. Obviously, you were the problem once more. Or…at least that was what you told yourself.

But the fight was so stupid. You were stupid. But maybe it was because you were scared, scared of your worst fears coming to life. Fears such as Billie choosing someone else over you. Someone better. Someone who didn’t have problems. Someone who could give her the world, which you couldn’t.

The apartment was mainly quiet, the only sounds filling the silence were the soft ticking of the clock and the soft music coming from the gramophone, sitting neatly on a dresser in the corner of the room. The music was gentle, quiet, a complete contrast to what was going on inside of your head. The words, those phrases which were being thrown at you. By those Goddamn voices. Paranoid. Useless. Whiny. Needy. Clingy. Jealous. Second choice. Broken. Empty….

It was all making your head hurt and spin. The lump in your throat growing bigger and the rock in your stomach sinking lower and lower. Like your intestines were tangling up in a horrible and tight way, making you nauseous.

But there were no tears escaping your eyes like one would expect to. No. You were dried out. Literally no tears left to cry.  

Billie’s worry only grew by the second. She’s never seen you like this. You were always so happy and full of life. Who would have thought you were such an actress?

Her blue eyes traced over your tense figure, your knee bouncing rapidly, the dull padding of the sole of your shoe against the rough wooden floor. Your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, providing a little shelter from the world.

She couldn’t just watch. What kind of girlfriend would that make her? But then again, she had absolutely no idea what to do. To say. To think, even. Her own thoughts were messy. Did she say something during the fight that triggered something from the past? Did she yell? Was she too harsh? 

There was so much she didn’t know but oh so desperately wanted to. 

Another minute passed by in silence and Billie just couldn’t take it anymore. She stood abruptly, taking a deep, shaky breath before striding towards you. You didn’t look up, didn’t even move an inch-other than your still bouncing leg-when she stopped in front of you. It was like you were there but, somehow at the same time, you weren’t.

“Baby?” 

Her voice was soft, gentle as she spoke for the first time in an hour. When you didn’t respond, she placed both her hands on your knees, crouching in front of you. 

“Hey, come on.” She murmured softly, thumbs stroking your knee. “Talk to me”

Again, no reply.

Billie sighed and dropped her head, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. She looked up again, her eyes studying your face. “Please, baby. I’m sorry”

At her apology, your mind muffled the voices, her soft voice echoed now instead. ‘I’m sorry’. Your eyebrows furrow and you look down at her, shaking your head. “N-No. Don’t…Don’t apologize” You whisper softly, seemingly pleading with her.

She let out a little breath of relief when she heard your voice, but her relief was gone when her brain registered your words. She sighed once more, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. “Okay, okay. I won’t.” She nodded slowly, her words aimed to assure you. “Just tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong?”

You stayed quiet. You didn’t know how to voice it. You couldn’t. When your lips parted, ready to speak, no sound came from your throat and you shut your mouth again.  You took a deep breath, swallowing hard but the lump doesn’t go away, no, it stops your breathing just for a moment, making you gasp out. 

Billie stands, her hands leaving your knees and reaching for your cheeks, cupping them softly, delicately. Her hands were warm against the soft skin of your cheeks. “It’s okay. Take your time, hm?” She shushes you gently, her hold on your cheeks making you look up at her.

Maybe that was all it took. It was her gentle, afraid touch that made the dam break, tears you thought were no longer there filled your eyes as your lips trembled. “I’m sorry” Your voice was quiet, barely reaching Billie’s ears.

Billie feels her heart squeeze in her ribcage, her chest feeling heavy. “No, baby” She shakes her head, the pad of her thumbs wiping the tears that you let fall. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just talk to me” 

You looked at her for a moment before a sob escaped your throat, your hands reaching up to grip her shirt in your hands. Your head hung low as it fell from her hold. Billie could feel her own tears building up as she stepped closer, pulling you close and cradling your head against her torso, hands stroking your hair while you sobbed into her.

It was a mere ten minutes, that felt like decades with her holding you close as you cried, confusion clouding Billie’s brain, before you let out a final breath and pulled back, eyes not meeting hers. “I…”  Your voice was hoarse, rough after crying. You cleared your throat as your hands let up their vice grip on your girlfriend’s shirt, instead now fiddling with the hem of it.

Billie sayed quiet, waiting for you to speak. It didn’t matter how long it took you, she’d stay there all night if she had to.

You inhaled sharply, your tongue darting out to wet your chapped, swollen lips. “I’m….I shouldn’t have accused you.” You spoke finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I was…I was scared” You felt tears welling in your eyes again but you blinked them away. “I-I… I should have trusted you. I know you would never-....”  

Billie’s actions stopped your apology, her hand cupping your chin, her hold was so soft like she was scared you would disappear if she touched you any stronger, she tilted your head up to look at her. “I know. I know, hon. But this is not about that, yeah? “ Her tone was one full of confusion and sympathy.

Your teeth bit into your bottom lip while you shook your head. 

She nodded slowly, her blue eyes searching yours for something before she spoke once more; “mhm, so ‘M’gonna need you to tell me. Okay, baby?” She nodded her head along to her words, her free hand reaching up to push a strand of hair, which was stuck to your tear-streaked cheek, and place it gently behind your ear. “I think there is something that has been really bothering you, and I think we should talk.”

“Okay”

A soft, small smile appeared on Billie’s lips before she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. “Yeah? Let’s go sit somewhere more comfortable, hm?” You nodded at her words and she stepped away the slightest bit, one of her hands reaching to hold yours, fingers interlocking as she helped you stand from the chair. She guided you towards your living room couch. You sat down, knees pulled up to your chest as she sat beside you, arms immediately wrapping around you and pulling you into her.

The two of you stayed like that for a couple moments, just enjoying the silence and ignoring the problems. After a while, Billie’s hand rubbed your arm and she spoke up. “Tell me” 

Your breath caught in your throat when you realized you’d have to open up. You weren’t very good at that. In fact, you didn’t think you’d ever have to, you could just stay closing everything up until  you can cry it out at night. 

Billie’s hand gave your arm a gentle squeeze and that kind of eased your nerves, but it didn’t make it any less scary. “I just…I’ve never…” You took a deep breath, deciding to just let it all flow out. “I’ve never been in a…happy relationship, and-...and I know that sounds corny but, it’s always been so hard to…keep up with my past partners, make them happy, constantly changing myself for…-to be what they wanted me to be” Your speaking was a little muffled by your head being tucked tightly against Billie’s chest, but that didn’t stop her from hearing and feeling every word. Anger built inside of her, as well as sadness. But she stayed quiet.

“It’s always me who’s the problem in the end” 

The pain in your voice as it cracked could have killed Billie on the spot. She held you tighter against her, her own head resting on top of yours. “You aren’t. You hear me?” Billie tilts her head down and plants a lingering kiss on the top of your head. “In fact, there is no problem, okay? It was just a misunderstanding.” She mumble against your hair.

“Yeah, but..-” 

“No.” 

Billie’s head shook side to side. She screwed her eyes shut for a moment. “Don’t say that about yourself. You’re perfect for me. There is nothing I’d change about you” She pulls back and looks you in the eyes, gosh those red puffy eyes tugged at her heart strings.

You bit your lip again as you gazed up into her blue seas.”There is so much more someone else could give you, Billie.” Your hand reaches up and evens out a wrinkle on her shirt on her chest. “You deserve the world and so much more, and I can’t give you that”

Billie shook her head, a serious look in her eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed and she grasped at your hand which was reaching up, she took it and placed it on her cheek. “No, baby. You are my world. You are everything I need and more” The lump in your throat from earlier formed in your throat once again, tears springing into your eyes. “And if you can’t see that right now..” She pauses, turning her head to kiss the palm of your hand. “I’m going to make sure that you do” 

Her hand, which stayed on your wrist as your hand cupped her cheek, squeezed softly and you nodded. The tears fell once more and she was quick to wipe them away. “Thank you” Your small voice made her smile a little and she shook her head, leaning down and pressing her pink lips against yours gently. You inhaled sharply before kissing back, your eyes fluttering closed. The kiss was soft, passionate and filled with love. A promise.

When you pulled back, Billie rested her forehead on yours, her eyes never leaving yours. “I love you” The words made you gasp softly before a smile was on your face.

“I love you, too”

Your tears have dried up. There was no reason to cry. Not now when she was here. She was here and she was never letting go. She was going to show you how it feels to be loved. She’s gonna love you right. 

A/N: my reqs are open if anyone's interested! stay safe <3

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

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

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

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

Chapter 3 - Mr. Madrid | ‘Act II’

word count - 12.4

(bare with me my french is rusttty)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•

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

Next part - Chapter 4 - Oldest Friend xx

[anime-fan-05]

Haikyuu!! ~With a short reader 2nd part~

1st part is here.

Oikawa T.

He loves hugging you because he really likes the feeling of you in your arms, and especially your head resting on his chest

In fact, if you don't hug him in the morning in front of school, at lunch when you two meet to eat together and after his training (you often have to take him away from the gym) to go home together, he'll complain about not having received the right amount of affection from you (Iwa will hit him at least ten times due to that)

Sometimes he teases you a lot little because he enjoys seeing your pouty face: "(Y/N)-chan, do you mind if I rest my arm here? It's so tired from training." "Tooru, get your gross, sweaty arm off my head!" "But it's the perfect armrest!" "..." "Awwww, (Y/N)-chan, are you pouting? How cute!"

Despite that, although he never misses an opportunity to make you angry about your height, he still does everything he can to make you feel appreciated: he knows when to stop with the teasing and when to compliment you, even for the most seemingly banal things

Furthermore, if a fan mentions something involving your height negatively, he won't hesitate to confront her

Kuroo T.

His teasing (because, come on, we know he certainly does them) are... particular: seriously, sometimes he can be a huge pain, but he's always able to bring a smile to your face ("Here it's." "Why did you bring me milk? I asked you for a bottle of water." "So maybe you grow a little and can at least reach Yaku in height.")

His favorite thing to do is grab you by your waist, hold you up and spin you around, especially after he wins a game or when you see each other again after a long time; he doesn't care who is watching you (his entire team, who will make fun of him forever), because all he's focused on at that moment is the lovely smile stitched on your face

If you start playing with his hands, he'll be wide-eyed, wanting to scream about how adorable you're; nevertheless he won't do so, thinking your or his neighbors won't appreciate it

In addition, his heart will be going crazy in his chest: you've no right to be so pretty, he'll think; he'll pout when you let go of his hands

If you wear his jersey during his games, no ball will go past his blocks; after the match, which will have ended with Nekoma's victory, though, he'll become a little arrogant: "Oh? What are you wearing, chibi?"

Haiba L.

You two make a so cute couple!

You've something like fifty centimeters of difference, but he doesn't care it anyway: he's very direct, and he always lets you know you look super cute for him

Anyhow, since he's so direct and frank, he's sometimes a little insensitive without meaning to, and he may say things to you that can offend you; when that happens, after realizing you're hurt, he begs you to forgive him, even if you two are in public, and he continues until you say you forgive him ("(Y/N)-chaaaaaaaan, forgive me, pleaseeeeee!" "Lev, get up, everyone is watching us!" "Forgive meeeeeeeee!" "Okay, okay, I forgive you, just get up..." "Yay! Let's go to the bar!")

When you two hold your hands, he's the one comparing them: he intertwines them with his and plays with your fingers; "Your hands are so tiny compared to mine" is one of his most common phrases

Your way of hugging is very cute: when you two are standing, you're hugging him from behind literally like a koala, and it's funny because you're so tiny against him; when you two are sitting, instead, you really look like a child compared to him, since you're like a ball on his lap

Tendou S.

He's absolutely not making fun of you, not even as a joke: since he was insulted by other children as a child, he doesn't want you to feel as bad as he felt

If someone makes fun of you, he'll protect you: "So you think you can make fun of my darling like that?" "N-no... I was just saying she's shorter than most people here in Shiratorizawa... T-that's all." "Yes, and I think you-" "Satori." "Yes, beauty?" "No." "..." "Satori." "Yes..."

His typical nicknames for you have to do with beauty ("beauty", "beautiful", "my pretty one", "my pretty girl", "cutie"...); the reason is because he thinks you're really too beautiful: he loves your height, and he thinks you're perfect for him

Speaking of affection, he doesn't mind if he has to bend down to kiss you, but for a long time he proposed you stand on a stool to kiss, and the crazy thing is he even bought it for you!

Besides, I think he's both a small and big spoon: indeed, sometimes he just wants to be held by you (when it happens, it's very funny to see your position due to your height), other times he wants to wrap his arms around you

Goshiki T.

You two met when you showed up at Shiratorizawa's gym as a manager; when he saw you, he started blushing madly, because all he could think about was how adorable you were ("I-I'm G-G-Go... MY NAME IS GOSHIKI TSUTOMU, NICE TO MEET YOU!")

He's so protective of you! He knows very well how adorable you're and how you can appear naive due to your height: in fact, does someone insult you for your height? He'll come to your rescue by listing all the reasons why you're lovely. Is anyone hitting on you? He'll stand in front of you, scaring, or rather trying to scare, them

The best way to cheer him on during his games is to wear his team jersey: the boost of self-esteem he'll receive thanks to your action will be enormous!

In fact, he loves, loves seeing you wear his clothes: they fit huge on you and make you really cute; he would really like to show the whole world how beautiful you look when you've on them

Moreover, if you hug him from behind, he dies of embarrassment because he feels your face against his lower back and your little arms wrapped around him

Miya A.

He also loves to tease you in a playful way: his favorite actions are not bending over when you want to kiss him (so you've either to jump or to "climb" on him), messing up your hair and calling you "shorty"

When you get pouty due to his teasing, he can't help but smile and coo at you because he thinks you're very adorable (his mind only thinks this: awwww, (Y/N) is pouting, she's so, so, so, so, so, so lovely!); if he made you very angry, he would stop immediately and give you an awkward kiss on your cheek (that's his way of apologizing)

If someone makes his same teasing about you, though, he'll make everyone apologize: do you know how he scolded the girls who disturbed his first serve during the match against Karasuno? Here, he'll treat them like that

He loves bragging about you two to his brother (he often gets slapped or objects thrown at his head because of it): "Samu, look how cute my little girl is!" "Don't flaunt my photos around, Tsumu!" "Get out of my way, Atsumu!"

He likes a lot giving you kisses on the forehead, even if he has to bend down quite a bit to do so

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[zeroeightzeroone]

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

[222col]

oo concept art’s little sister who art thinks is innocent but is just a little menance who wants to fuck patrick so so bad. like flashing him when art isn’t looking. sending him nudes. everything to make pat go insane

aaaa yes yes <3 <3

"i'll be down in sec, let me just save this copy of my essay!" you shout down the stairs to your brother, closing the door to your bedroom. slipping your top off, pushing your shoulders together and snapping a couple pictures of your chest. sending them all straight to patrick. putting your shirt back on and walking down the stairs. "me and pat just ordered pizza for dinner, that all good?" you hum and nod your head at art, grabbing a slice and sitting at the table, opposite patrick. his phone in hand, looking between the screen and you. smirking at him before taking a bite of your pizza slice. art piles his plate and sits down next to you. reaching your foot under the table to patrick's crotch, feeling his hard-on through his jeans. "what's the essay you're writing?" art asks you. you explain your current project to your brother, patrick's eyes not leaving you once, a shit eating grin plastered over his face.

art excuses himself to the bathroom after dinner, leaving you and patrick alone. moving to the other side of the table, taking the seat next to him. "did you like the pictures?" you flutter your lashes at him, hand reaching over to palm him through the fabric of his crotch. "you can feel just how much i liked the pictures." he smirks to you. "hmm, don't know what you're on about." you reply, looking up to the ceiling. "your brother might believe this innocent facade, but i know how much of a little slut you are." almost moaning at his whispers, continuing to rub his cock through the jeans. "how would you know? you're too much of a pussy to actually fuck me."

art walks back into the kitchen, your hand not leaving patrick's crotch. "ice cream for dessert?" he suggests, walking over to the freezer to find it. "why don't you skip the ice cream and just eat me instead?" whispering into patrick's ear, his lip between his teeth as he shakes his head. "you're gonna kill me, you know." he whispers, moving your hand back onto the table. "can you at least fuck me before you die then?" he laughs out loud, art returning to the table with a pint of ice cream and three spoons. "what's so funny?" digging into the ice cream, staring patrick down as you lick it off the spoon. "nothing artie, don't worry." art shrugs and starts on the ice cream.

wrapping a towel around your body as you step out of the shower, you open the door to find patrick waiting. "god, you took forever." he states, walking past you into the room. "hey, pat," he spins around to see your fully exposed body as you drop the towel to the floor. "oh, whoops." you play, picking up the towel and wrapping it round your body once more. "oh fuck me." he whispers, hand running through his hair. "don't get dressed, i'll be in your room in five."

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

07 — DISTANT MEMORY I USED TO KNOW

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. read on wattpad. fanfic playlist.

<- previous part | next part ->

Quickly switching to the main channel once more, you go to report the status of your target, when black consumes your vision.

Pain sparks in the back of your head, your head unnaturally twisting to the side as you fall to your knees, forehead colliding with the harsh concrete as all of the oxygen within your lungs leaves you in one thick swoop.

“Sweetheart?! Sweetheart, what’s your status?!” You can hear Price barking out through the comms, but all you can see, hear, feel, is the sparks in the darkness behind your eyes, the cool, rocky surface of the ground on which you lay. That, and the all-consuming ache your body’s become.

Your hand claws at the floor, an attempt to right yourself, but the very new feeling of a boot’s sole presses against your skull, crushing your cheek between it and the rocks.

“Now it’s clear why you got Colonel,” a nasty, nasally voice spits out from above you. Above? Beneath? You can’t tell, not with the world spinning, not with everything within you falling apart at the seams. “Thanks for confirming what we all knew.”

Even with your centre of gravity out of whack, your words never seem to fail you. “That your,” you suppress the urge to vomit everywhere from the onslaught of nausea, “Commander’s a bad lay?”

The man’s – a Shadow’s – boot presses further against your skull, and you can’t stop the pained groan that falls from your bloodied lips. When you cough, you can hear the red liquid splatter across the floor. He laughs, coldly, unamused.

“No. That you’re a filthy whore who slept her way to the top,” he seethes, and your chest heaves with every intake of breath.

“Real. Fucking. Original,” you manage to grit out, through every flash of pain in your head. Your stubbornness was going to get you killed. Right now, even, maybe.

…Hopefully not.

Struggling to open one eye, you manage to allow yourself a small sliver of vision. You know where your small, hand-held pistol sits, hidden beneath your vest. If you can distract him well enough, all you’d need is one shot.

He grinds the heel of his boot into the nape of your neck, and you find yourself hacking up even more blood. Not a good sign.

“How does a combat medic even make it to Colonel?” He continues, sneering, ignoring your grunts of pain and frequent squirming. “Was your pussy that good?”

“Jealous, Corporal? Wanted his small prick up your ass instead?” You goad, every word a struggle to get out, but worth it nonetheless. He doubles down, looking up to the roof to calm himself down with shaky breaths.

The short, two second window allows for you to slip a trembling hand into your vest, grab a hold of the small pistol, raise it, and pull the trigger.

Your eyes flutter shut once more as the revolting feeling of a corpse on top of you has you freezing up. You can’t even check for more threats, not with every nerve ending in your body feeling as though they’ve been frayed, the truest form of torture you’ve ever experienced.

It’s then that you fall into a state of limbo. A grey area, an unknown, a state of something that can only be described as a loss of self. The crash you’d been anticipating. A pain-induced one, maybe?

“Love! Love, shit, fuck, hey, hold on!” 

In the floaty, intangible abyss you find yourself floating in, you’re unsure if the words are even spoken in reality. If they’re just a figment of your imagination, a taunt, a way for the gods to mock you before you fall into their clutches. 

Graves escaped, the thought comes to you through your haze, as what feels like phantom hands clutch the nape of your neck and your hip, an alarm bell ringing through the blankness of it all. He’s free. He survived. 

You will never belong again.

“Ghost Team, I have Sweetheart, she’s in pretty bad shape,” the words are more certain, this time, your consciousness slowly coming to. You think someone’s carrying you against their chest, a potent smell of cinnamon and gunpowder surrounding you that has you instinctively curling in closer to the source. “We need exfil, now!”

You think you let out a small whimper from the confusion, the agony of it all, because the person holding you shushes you with a soft sound and tightens their grip around the back of your head, squeezing your outer thigh. A princess carry, then.

Attempting to open your eyes, the instant light that floods them has you burying your head into a chest, the fabric blocking your vision. It, too, has that distinct, comforting smell.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart, I got ya.”

…Gaz.

Gaz is the one holding you, the one carrying you to exfil, the one who, embarrassingly, saved you. Out of the four of them, you suppose you were grateful it was him that had seen you passed out. A body on top of you.

Oh. God.

“What,” you croak, your voice broken and throat sore, “What. I – are we safe?”

“You’re safe with me, love. Won’t let anything bad happen to ya. You probably have a concussion so imma need you to stay awake for me, yeah?”

But sleep. It sounded so nice. You haven't slept since. Since you met them all. Since everything, since your life got ruined.

Whatever he says next goes unheard. Whatever pleas are made.

You let slumber take you in its icy grip.

*

“It’s a myth, ya knob. Only gotta wake ‘em up every few hours.”

“Brushed up on ya first aid knowledge to impress her? Real smooth, Soap.”

“The two of you – quit it. She’s wakin’ up.”

“Great.”

“You shut your mouth too, Simon.”

With a small groan, you try your best to gauge your surroundings. You’re moving, that much you’re sure of – by the thrum of the engine in your core and the distant whirring, you’re in a helicopter.

You think your head’s resting in someone’s lap – a hand in your hair, stroking against your scalp, soft and sweet.

Eyes fluttering open, you quickly adjust to the neon lights of the roof, finding yourself face to face with Gaz. So, you figure, you’re in his lap, his hand in your hair. He’s good, you think distantly, a proper damn masseuse.

His brows are furrowed, bottom lip forming a small pout as he glares at who you gather is Soap to your left. 

When he looks down, however, a grin quickly replaces the expression and the hand in your hair starts rubbing smooth circles into the base of your skull. If this is what Heaven is, you suddenly understand man’s desire to reach it.

“There we are,” he smiles, voice lower and smoother. “Sleepy head.”

You shoot him the world’s weakest glare. He, dutifully, doesn’t comment on its lacklustre effect. “I promise. I don’t usually have to get saved,” you petulantly point out, but the edge is dulled as Gaz continues to play with your hair. And that intoxicating cinnamon seems to have you on a leash.

“Didn’t think you did,” he reassures, and you accept the confirmation with a steady breath.

You try and pull yourself up, using your hands to do so, when a soaring pain through your left shoulder has your breath hitching and your head falling back into Gaz’s lap. It’s only then that you realise that someone’s got your bent legs in theirs, too, and when you try and get a look, you see it’s Price.

“Try not to use that arm,” Price jerks his chin to your aching arm. “You got grazed.”

It hits you, all at once, what has just transpired. What you failed to do. 

“He escaped,” you croak, looking up to the ceiling even when it starts spinning. “I tried to take him down. I did. But. He escaped, I’m…” you swallow, a heavy thing, “Sorry.”

“Hey, no, lass,” Soap chimes in, and with a secure hand at your non-wounded shoulder, Gaz helps you sit up, head resting against his shoulder, “Dinnae ken why yer sorry. It was one against ten.”

Your head pounds, a relentless rhythm, and when you look down, it’s to find Price’s hand fall onto your thigh and give a comforting pat. When you turn to him, he gives you a small smile. “You did good. We have to finish up another loose end, but we’ll take you to the nurse on base –”

“I want to go,” you interrupt, sitting up straighter with a small wince. It’s a small helicopter, obviously meant just for the 141, with bolted metal as far as the eye can see. “I can’t. I have to be useful.”

“No.”

The final member, the worst one, the man seemingly out to get you.

Ghost.

“What do you mean, no?” You quip, shooting daggers at the man who sits beside Soap on the other side of the chopper. 

“Did the concussion give you hearing loss?” He asks, cold, and you feel as though you’re buzzing with energy, “Or do you just hate hearing the word no? We don’t need you on this mission.”

“Didn’t realise you were taking over the duties as Captain,” you grit, your headache increasing tenfold, even with Gaz’s hand at the base of your nape a soothing presence, “How does Price feel about his Lieutenant’s new role?”

Both you, and Ghost, shoot a look to Price. He unknowingly tightens his grip around your thigh.

“We can discuss this on base,” he commands, allowing no room for argument. “We head for Chicago in two hours.”

Your brows furrow. “Chicago? Why?”

Soap’s smirk is dirty, excited as he simply says, “We talked to a… friend. She gave us the information we needed.”

“Information for what?” You ask, narrowing your eyes, leaning further against Gaz as more pain shoots through your body. He doesn’t say a word about it.

“Graves didn’t tell you…?” Gaz asks, looking down to you with barely concealed shock. 

You look around at the four men. “What? What’s going on?”

“The last missile,” Price folds his hands together, leaning forward to meet your eyes with serious blue. “We’re heading to Chicago to dismantle the last missile.”

*

“There we go, doll. Right as rain.”

The woman gives you a kind smile, securing the bandage around your arm, the disinfectant and tape underneath it along with the shot of morphine she’d given you easing the pain. She pulls off her latex gloves, a ring adorning her wedding finger.

“Thank you…” You trail off, not seeing a name badge on the nurse.

She places her hand on your good shoulder and gives you a soft squeeze, her smile warming. “Sarah. My name’s Sarah. I’d say that I’ll see you around, but… I hope not.”

You let out a laugh, and she lets out her own chuckle.

Sarah’s gorgeous, with dark features, black hair cut short to her head, graceful in her movements. A gold necklace rests on her collarbone, the pendant in the shape of a K.

The 141’s base is, well, almost exactly how you’d imagined it. Busy, well-stocked, off the grid.

Gaz and Soap had been lenient to leave you in the Med Bay by yourself, but Price and Ghost had made them haul ass to the conference room. You were all running on a very tight ship, time seeming to fall through your grasps with every breath you took.

“Thank you, again, Sar–”

“Colonel?” Turning where you sit on the white, hospital-issued bed, your confusion doubles when you see a woman you don’t recall having met before. She seems kind, motherly, almost, but steely in a way that only came with being in Special Ops.

“Hello to you too,” Sarah rolls her eyes, and you watch as the stranger looks to the nurse, her expression immediately easing into something loving.

“Hey, love,” the blonde woman says, pressing her lips to Sarah’s cheek, before pulling back and watching you.

“Who are you…?” You ask, feeling bad for ruining what seems to be the couple’s greeting. But also. You just got here, and couldn’t be expected to understand everyone and everything on base.

Inclining her head in a small apology, the woman extends her hand to you, which you take with a firm grip.

“Kate Laswell, Station Chief,” she greets, and recognition sparks in the back of your mind. This was the woman that had found out about Shepherd and Graves’ off the books treason. It feels as though a rock has gotten stuck in your throat as you pull away, not breaking eye contact. “You want to come on this mission? You’ll be with me.”

You immediately look to Sarah, expecting her to object, as a normal nurse probably would.

Instead, she just gives you a cryptic, knowing look. “I know how you soldiers work. If I tell you to rest, it’ll just give you more of an incentive to get yourself shot again.”

Your smile is the brightest it’s been in years.

“What’s our role?” You ask, standing up from the bed with the smallest of winces. Morphine has its limits, you suppose. Sarah starts cleaning up the supplies, and when Laswell encourages you to walk beside her with a hand at the dip of your back, you do just as much.

“We’ll be locating the missile,” she explains, low as the two of you walk through the crowded hallway. Her hand doesn’t leave its position on your back, and you’re grateful. “And you’ll be telling me everything you can about Graves and the Shadows.”

You fall into pace beside her, embarrassed by the difficulty of the task. Sarah had said you’d suffered a minor concussion, and a pretty hefty cut on your temple which she’d patched up as best she could. Being a combat medic, you knew most of your diagnoses anyway, but it was nice having it cemented by the kind woman. The bullet graze was at risk of infection, and a general pain in the ass, but it was durable with the tending in Med Bay.

“I’m surprised the boys aren’t the ones interrogating me,” you jest, more of a seeking for reason than anything. Why would they have Laswell do the talking, when they seemed so… interested?

She shoots you a look – a mystery for you to uncover. “Price told me that you mentioned a… questionable difference in authority and age. Gaz said just as much, and while they may be brutes,” she smiles to herself, telling of her history with the team, “They’re good men. Think they’re looking out for you.”

The only person, in hindsight, who had ever looked out for you was your mother.

You blink away the burning in your eyes, swallowing, before adjusting your smile once more. “I think they’re… wary of me, more like it.”

Her brows shoot to her hairline. “You don’t think that Gaz finding you unconscious with a dead Shadow atop of you cemented your allegiance? The two Sergeants haven’t shut up about you since they arrived. Only stopped talking when Price threatened them.”

“He threatened them?” you choke on a shocked laugh, getting lost in how… nice it is, talking to another woman. How safe, how it feels like you have someone to trust. The 141, you think you can trust them, but there’s something so different in the camaraderie of women. The inherent safety you feel with one in a position such as herself, that niggling in the back of your mind gone.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she looks to you with a smug grin, pushing open the back exit of the compound with a nudge of her shoulder. The wind slashes against your face, a strand blowing into your mouth, making you wince and spit it out.

“Fucking hate that,” you mutter, Laswell immediately quipping, “The worst.”

You think you and Laswell are going to get along quite well.

“Fuck, Sweetheart, there ye are!” A now all too familiar Scottish lilt calls, stood with the rest of the 141 by two helicopters. You stand across the field, but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face when both him and Gaz come bounding over, Gaz adorning what appears to be a wetsuit underneath his standard uniform. 

Bulky arms wrap around your waist, and you find yourself being lifted off of the ground, Soap pressing you against him with a strong hug. A surprised giggle leaves your lips, and you see Gaz stop just in front of you both, hands on his hips.

“She’s still injured, you dolt,” Gaz goads, and Soap responds by squeezing you harder.

“Aye, that she is,” Soap grunts, letting you down a touch gentler as you find your footing once more. He smirks. “But… She still owes me one for that dirty move back in Las Almas.”

You playfully punch at his shoulder. “Wasn’t patching you up enough? Not leaving you for dead?”

“I don’t seem to recall…” He trails off, his dimples deepening when you punch him again, harder this time.

“Good to see you up and ready to go.” The wind whistles through your ears, the near-dusk light brushing you all in sensual blues as you meet the Captain’s affirming grin.

Even when you try and flatten your mouth into an authoritative line, the smile seems unable to leave your face. You fold your arms. “I seem to remember you all wanting me dead or nowhere near you, just a day ago.”

Gaz raises his hands in defence, teeth on display as he swings his arm around your neck, pulling you in. “Don’t group me with ‘em. Trusted you the moment I saw you.”

“And who’s to say we still don’t want those things?”

Right. Ghost.

Laswell, standing behind you all, seeming to cast her calculative gaze over the five of you, narrows her eyes at the Lieutenant at the exact same time you do. “If you can’t play nice with the Colonel, Ghost, we can and will swap you out.”

That has you instantly ready to protect the woman’s six.

“Someone seems to recognise my rank,” You look to Laswell as Gaz unravels his arm from around your shoulders, and the woman simply shrugs, hands in her vest’s pockets.

“I just recognise another woman deserving of her power when I see one,” she says, and you might’ve proposed at that very moment if it weren’t for her wife just a few doors away.

“Sergeants, Lieutenant, go ahead and check over the supplies. I’ll catch up in a moment,” Price orders, and when both Gaz and Soap go to answer back, he raises a hand, raises his brow, too. “That wasn’t a request, boys. Go.”

They do just as much, both Gaz and Soap waving back at you as they jog back over to the helicopters.

Just you, Price and Laswell then.

“Kate, a minute.”

…Or, well, just you and Price.

Leading you with a hand on your elbow, Price pauses by a quiet section of the base’s wall, looking around you for any stragglers. Not seeing any, he moves both his hands to rest on your shoulders.

“The deal we made,” he begins, and it’s like a blow to your side. You lift your chin, straighten your posture, clench your jaw. “We – I would like it to extend until Graves is officially KIA. If we can plan a takedown properly, not rush it as much, we can do it. But it’s only right if you do it right alongside us.”

He subconsciously squeezes your flesh, but it’s a grounding motion, one you find necessary.

This feels like more than just that. This feels like an offering – a sense of stability for your foreseeable future. A way for you to find your feet, with a community, a support system to help you restart this path your life has diverted to.

“Yes,” you say, earnest, eyes not straying from Price’s for a single moment. “Yes – thank you.”

“I’d argue that we get the better end of the bargain,” Price mutters, and it’s so quiet and human that you think you might’ve imagined the words. You go to push, ask what exactly he means by that –

“Captain! Hassan has entered the building!” 

He breaks eye contact, finally, and your eyes catch on his profile in the night of dusk – the slope of his nose, the angles of his jaw.

He is, all things considered, a beautiful man.

Your heart thunders, and you pull away, his hands falling from your frame like weights. With a small, delicate smile, you raise your hand to your head in a faux-salute.

“Good luck, Cap.”

His responding smile is softened by the dreaminess of it all, the light, the nervous buzz in the air. He raises his own hand, then, a mocking of your movement.

“See you on the other side, Sweetheart.”

taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias @insatiablekittie @1wh4re1nova @kaoyamamegami @supernaturalstilinski @inthemiddle0feverywhere @msecho19 @nogood-boyo @alfa-jor @lalashhyl @letmeapologise @honeybeeznutz @1mawh0re @oreo-cream @lalashhyl @someonepleasedateme @letmeapologise @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @inarabee

author's note. i have TWO very specific. but huge. plot twists thatll happen WAY later in the fic. im very curious if anyone can guess em before hand! both of which HAVE been hinted at. a part of me hopes that you guys miss it!! :p

[2018-01-20]

if you still have your 1k words of kissing satoru pls bestow it to me 🧎🏽‍♀️i’m grabbing him by the back of his blindfold and making out with him fr

pairing. high schooler!gojo satoru × gn!reader

content. fluff + one kiss, implied that reader is shorter than gojo, somewhat proofread (i hate everything) read slowly!!

sticky-note. IM CRYING the way u worded this ask made me want to write an entirely new thing of making out w gojo 😭 ty for sending this in leeee 🫶

it is no secret that gojo satoru looks like a good kisser.

he’s attentive; one large hand on the small of your back to hold you steady while the other rests on your hip, eyes on you to see if you’ll make the first move. to both his and your dismay, you don’t move a single inch.

“i can’t do it,” you finally say, exasperated, pulling away to quickly hide your face in your hands. you awkwardly twist away from his figure, unable to stand the way that you’re able to see his stupidly pretty eyes through his sunglasses. it infuriates you to no end. “i give up. this is too embarrassing.”

“that’s so mean of you to say,” gojo whines not unsimilar to a toddler, but there is only amusement in his tone as he lightly tugs on the waistband of your pants, trying to get you to turn back around. “shouldn’t you be honored to kiss the one and only gojo satoru?”

“shutupshutupshutup,” you chant, mostly to yourself than to the obnoxious boy behind you. you swat weakly at his hand while trying to ignore the demonic voices in your head.

it is no secret that you’ve liked your classmate for a long while now. as cute and funny (and hot) as gojo is, he is twice as annoying and unpleasant. you swear he makes it his daily goal to get your blood boiling every chance he gets. that is the sole reason why you don’t plan on professing your love anytime soon: due to the fact that shoko will forever be disappointed in you and will never let you live it down if she knew. you don’t even want to think about what utahime would ultimately think of you.

he continues to bug you, “c’mo-on...” you can practically hear him sporting his signature smug grin. “do you really wanna go back to jujutsu high like that and kiss suguru instead?”

at that, you spin around in an instant—a mortified look on your face that further urges you to stab an accusatory finger at his chest. “y-you’re a damn liar! there is no way that there is an actual curse who’s goddamn antidote requires you to kiss someone when you get hit.”

sneakily, he wraps a palm around your wrist but makes no move to push your hand away. “but you just got touched by that cursed spirit, right? doesn’t your skin feel all sticky and itchy, like i mentioned?”

as much as you hate to admit it, you know that he’s right. before the two of you had gotten into the fight in the first place, he warned you not to get hit and the symptoms you would have to face if you did. your skin does feel like you just took a swim in poison ivy, and your head feels dizzy with a sudden migraine that should not be there, since gojo had instantly caught you the moment you faced a hit from the cursed spirit.

“b-but it doesn’t make any sense,” you sputter out, a weak last-minute resort. you really do not want to kiss gojo satoru—at least, not because of a measly curse—and have to hear him blab about it later on to your friends. you rant on, “if such a technique exists, then why didn’t you just kill the thing right away? aren’t you the strongest? why am i even on this mission with you?”

“hey!” he feigns an offended gasp, “are you saying that you don’t like hanging out with me?” he groans and dramatically lays an arm on his forehead, reminding you of a mistress in distress. you stare blankly. “how cruel of you. and besides, just because i’m the strongest doesn’t mean i can kill a first-grade so quickly.”

you keep staring at him with a disapproving look, but he only looks back at you with a joyous glint in his eyes. “...you’re insufferable,” you finally huff out, your hand still in his. but the both of you can hear the undertone of surrounder in your voice.

you stand awkwardly still in front of him for a few solid seconds, narrowing your eyes as he returns your defeated glare with a sheepish smile. you can’t help but sigh to yourself—you’re going to have to prepare yourself for a mouthful from shoko when you both head back.

you let him pull you closer when he tugs at your hand, your other palm moving to rest on his chest to steady yourself. but even then, you don’t get to kiss him until he leans down from that freakishly tall height of his— gently meeting his lips with yours.

it isn’t a quick peck. in fact, it’s a sweet and slow kind of kiss that makes your heart skip a concerningly amount of beats. a free hand of satoru’s moves up to softly cup the back of your head to deepen the kiss. nothing about his movements show that he’s in a rush to get the whole ordeal over with—and as much as you would like to lie and say that you hate it, you can’t help but step forwards to reach him better too.

your mind is in so much of a daze that you don’t even realize that satoru turned his limitless infinity just for you.

when you finally step back into reality and—reluctantly—pull away, gojo is grinning brightly with his sunglasses tucked into his hair. you didn’t even notice that he pushed them up to make the kiss more comfortable for you. however, you do notice that your skin still very much feels uncomfortable on your body and your head is pounding (whether it be from the symptoms or the kiss, you don’t really wanna know).

“you’re so cute,” gojo chuckles unabashedly, laughing again when you avert your gaze with another huff and a warm face. you are more than used to his flirty remarks and his more-than-platonic habits, but somehow it feels more... genuine this time around.

“and gullible,” he suddenly adds, the out of blue comment making you turn back towards him with a raised eyebrow. you squeak out a sound of surprise when he unexpectedly, but gently, pushes your head downwards, his other hand now in your line of sight. you feel more confusion swirling in your head when you see him holding a small vial with some clear, greenish liquid inside of it.

“here’s the real antidote,” gojo casually cheers, and he does not have a single shame in the world. a whole minute seems to pass by until you connect the dots, and when you do, the first thing that pops up in your mind is the thought of absolute murder.

“are you serious?” you practically screech. “you made that whole kiss thing up?”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. ll)

Part l can be found here

Pairing: Sukuna x Megumi's little sister; Yuji x Megumi's little sister

Word Count: 2,5k

Synopsis: After the incident of Yuji almost losing his life and Megumi's little sister confessing her feelings to him, they finally live in peace. But then Shibuya comes around as well as suppressed Sukuna who takes interest in you...

Warnings: language, injury, self harm, mostly Sukuna

Tags: @sanicsmut (yk why my lovely), @sunshine7queen

It’s been months. Months since you finally confessed your feelings to none other than Yuji Itadori in pouring rain, months since finally having the relationship you always dreamed of, months in which everything went just right.

Yes, ups and downs were and will always be part of the job, but you stood on each other’s side till the very end.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Your fingers gently caressed his back, other hand combing through his pink hair.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. After all you’re by my side, right?”

Your heart melted like chocolate in the sun, arms embracing him tightly before you could help yourself. Oh that boy. That beautiful boy who swept you off your feet, the boy you’ve been in love with since stepping a foot into Jujutsu High. In that moment you laid beside him, eyes staring at the ceiling while holding his hand and breathing against his chest.

“I’ll always be by your side, Yuji.”

 Yes, everything went just fine. But at Shibuya, everything changed.

“Where’s Yuji?” you huff into your big brothers face, completely out of breath.

“And what happened to Ino?”

“(y/n), what happened to your face?”

You can’t explain right now. In fact, all that’s on your mind is Yuji after fighting your way through the whole city.

“We’ll meet again as soon as possible, okay?”

Why? Why were you assigned to follow Nanami and that old fart instead of Mei and Yuji? Why weren’t you able to support your brother and your boyfriend? You had a bad feeling in your guts right from the start, but when seeing Ino’s unconscious figure you suspect nothing but the worst.

“Where’s Yuji?”

The evasive look in Megumi’s tells you everything before he even opens his mouth.

“He went into the train station in order to find Gojo-sensei…”

Your world stops, head spinning in thick fear. He went into the train station.

All alone.

“Why would you let him go there alone?”

Roughly, you grab your big brother’s collar, fisting the fabric so tightly that it gets hard for Megumi to breathe.

“Why would you let him leave when even Gojo got sealed? Why did you let him go?”, you hiss through gritted teeth, tears veiling your sight.

This is bad. Very very bad. He wasn’t replying to any of your messages for over an hour now. An hour in which he could have get killed already.

Or even worse.

The thought of Sukuna inside him taking over runs shivers down your spine. After that fateful day when you thought you lost the love of your life forever, you encountered him last. The cruelest of the cruel, the king of curses.

You feel like throwing up. No, you need to focus. Right now, there’s only one thing you can do.

“Where do you thing you’re going, (y/n)?”, Megumi barks at you while grabbing your hand and yanking you over.

“What do you think? I’m looking after Yuji!”

“There’s nothing you can do-“

“What do you know about it?”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I love him, Megumi. And I won’t let him die at Shibuya alone or even worse, let Sukuna take over his body. I’ll keep you updated.”

And with that, you turn on your heels and run as fast as your feet carry towards the center of Shibuya. Please. Please let everything be alright. Your heart almost hammers out of your chest, vision foggy with thick fear.

Please hold on, Yuji.

-Sukuna-

“How could you lose against such a weakling?”

He smiles to himself, sunning in the scorching pain that echoes through his vessel’s body.

Until you appear on his mind again.

Oh god, you. The girl that brat fell head over heels for, the girl that confessed to him in pouring rain after encountering himself. You have some nerves, laying inside of this loser’s arms each and every night while Sukuna himself can’t help but wonder what your body feels like, sensing how he kisses your lips while Sukuna desires a taste of his own. No, Sukuna was never jealous about anything that brat has.

But you.

He leans forward, a wave of Yuji’s memories washing over him. Your soft hair and glistening eyes, your oh so kind smile, the way you lay against his chest.

“Why this loser?” he mumbles to himself.

“Why are you even attracted to a brat like him when you can do so much better?”

With him, maybe. Sukuna was never a man of feelings, after all he is the king of curses, the cruelest creature walking on this earth. But there’s just something about you that keeps him entertained, something that begs him to have a taste.

Maybe today, here at Shibuya, his time has come.

(y/n)’s POV

It’s like living in a nightmare you can’t wake up to, seeing two girls bending over the lifeless body of your boyfriend.

“What did you do to him?”, you scream out.

Until you gaze at the finger in their hands.

Until your mind begins to realize what is going on here.

“How many fingers did you feed him already?”

You feel like a ghost in a shell, as if all of this is only a dream. This isn’t Yuji Itadori laying right in front of you, right? These aren’t Sukuna’s fingers, correct?

“How many fingers!?”, you scream on top of your lungs.

You hinge forwards, ready to rip their hands off when suddenly, a sheer force stops you in your tracks and slams your body against a nearby wall. You feel like dying, organs pressed so harshly against the hard concrete that you can swear you were able to feel every single one burst. All you are capable to do is stare at the volcano in front of you setting the two girl in flames and casually pulling out more of these cursed fingers, more of his fingers.

“N-no”, you croak out.

No, you need to do something, you need to get out of this wall, you need to stop him from feeding all of Sukuna’s fingers to Yuji.

With a violent scream you break away, landing knees first on the cold floor. Damn, you feel like bleeding out, whole vision going black just by the thought of standing up. But you have to do this, one step at a time.

For him, for Yuji.

“Get. Your. Dirty. Hands. Off. Him.”, you hiss through gritted teeth, snapping the volcano head’s hand away just in time before he is able to force the last finger down Yuji’s throat.

“I thought you are dead already. Leave me alone, stupid girl.”

It happens so fast that you aren’t even able to comprehend what is going on. In the split of a second his hand darts towards you, fire bursting out of his palms. But it doesn’t reach you. No, instead both of his arms get cut off, coloring everything around you in deep purple.

“You have some nerves, trying to touch her so casually. Who do you think you are, you worm?”

That voice, that presence. Your whole body shivers in nothing but thick fear, head slowly turning around. Please let it be a nightmare, a misunderstanding. This can’t be reality.

“Hello sweetheart, did you miss me?”

“Sukuna…”, you breathe out.

You stare right into his red eyes, tattoos all over his face revealing his true identity without any doubt. The man sitting next to you isn’t Yuji Itadori anymore. No, this is the king of curses himself, none other than Sukuna.

“Long time no see. I’ve been waiting for this moment long enough”, he purrs, a cheeky grin plastered on his face while he brushes through Yuji’s hair.

“Where’s Yuji?”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper in the darkness, his sheer presence clouded by so much power and strength that you feel like fainting. Yes, the man in front of you could kill you without even twitching.

“Why is everything about this brat? He’s in the background where he belongs. Oh, not so fast.”

Just when the volcano man next to you is about to stand up, Sukuna cuts off his feet without ease. You stare at him through glossy eyes, the flawless appearance of your boyfriend looking so distressed by his occurrence. A quiet laughter escapes his lips and sends another wave of shivers down your spine. How can a creature walking on this earth be so evil?

“Now kneel.”

He stands in front of you staring down at you with amusement sparkling in his eyes. He’s talking to you, there’s no doubt. Your limbs feel like burning alive, whole body exhausted by all the fights and tactical thinking. You would love to kneel on the floor at least for a while, finally some rest.

But instead, you lift your trembling figure off the floor, straightening your shoulders with your head up.

“I would rather die than kneeling in front of someone as disgusting as you”, you reply with firm voice.

Is this how you’ll die? Through the deformed hands of your very own boyfriend, through the king of curses himself?

Suddenly he bursts out laughing, grabbing your chin roughly.

“It would have truly disappointed me if you lost your spark. But for your braveness, everyone at Shibuya will lose their lives this night”, he hisses into your ear, yanking your head to the side so violently that it feels like he’s breaking your neck.

“Please don’t.”

You force yourself to look into the black hole of his eyes, to resist the fear he tries to cause in your heart.

“These people are innocent. They don’t deserve to die. But you do.”

He tilts his head to the side, grinning down at you with so much cruelness glistening in his red orbs that it simply takes your breath away. How many fingers did they feed him when you weren’t here? Way too many. After all, Yuji was always able to overpower him, to take control over his own body. But not now.

With the snip of his finger, both girls get sliced into a thousand tiny pieces, their blood and intensities discoloring everything around you crimson.

Red.

Everything red.

He ended their lives without thinking twice.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you spit into his face.

Out of instinct, your flat palm rushes towards his face, just inches away from hitting him when he catches your hand mid-air.

“Because I can. Obey me or I’ll kill every human being at Shibuya. Especially your brother.”

Your eyes widen in horror, pictures of Megumi flooding your mind. Despite you seem to be two different people with nothing in common, you love your brother dearly. If something happens to him because of you, if Sukuna hurts a single hair on his body…

“Don’t you dare to touch him or I’ll kill myself.”

His red orbs widen in surprise. Oh, that’s new. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re serious about your words.

“What makes you believe I’d care about that?”

He would never admit it out loud, but the thought of your precious life ending distresses him. No, not until he is finished with you, not until he got a taste of what belongs to Yuji Itadori.

“Because I know you care about me”, you reply confidently.

You know it’s dumb, that you might die right here on the spot through your own hands. But you can’t help it. Your own life is your only leverage against Sukuna. Without hesitation you press your own knife against your throat until blood spills. Maybe this will show you what Sukuna’s real intentions are. Or even better, you’ll be able to set Yuji free again.

“Go on, I couldn’t care less.”

Why does your hand fight so desperately against your mind, refusing to cut your own flesh open? Ice cold sweat runs down your forehead, fingertips trembling underneath the force of the blade in your own hand. You just have to press harder, slicing open your throat…

It shouldn’t be hard for him to watch you fighting against your own will. But oh how much Sukuna despises the way you press that knife against your throat, a little trail of blood spilling. What are you trying to achieve?

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“I want to make a contract with you”, you press out.

“I’m not dealing with a stupid human.”

You dig the blade into your screaming flesh deeper, a warm trail of blood soaking your uniform.

“Promise me you’ll leave my friends alone. Promise me you’ll set Yuji free.”

“And why would I do that?”, he remarks dryly.

“I will allow you to do everything you want with me during that time.”

Sukuna pricks up his ears, absolutely mesmerized by the way you fight against your own will to survive and stare at him so boldly.

“Give me an answer”, you demand.

The pain seems to become unbearable, knife cutting through your tender flesh so deep that your whole upper body is now discolored in crimson. One more brush. One more brush of the blade will be enough to cut your own throat. You close your tearing eyes.

Oh Yuji, how much you wish he’d be here right now. You weren’t even able to say goodbye to him, to talk everything through. It should have never come this far, they shouldn’t be able to have the upper hand. Hopefully he doesn’t see any of this, the way you take your own life.

A rough hand snatches the knife out of your grasp before pressing against your open wound.

“Everything I want, huh? Selling yourself for your friends and that brat, how pathetic”, he hisses against your outer ear.

You gasp for air like a fish on land, the pain radiating from your whole body almost swallowing you whole.

“What happened to that little ray of sunshine of yours, the smile you always wear?”

“I would kill myself if it means that the others are safe”, you reply.

He stares into your eyes, the orbs that captivating him since first catching a glimpse of them. Now it makes sense to him what that brat sees in you, why he tried so desperately to keep you out of his grip.

“Precious little thing, I know exactly what I’ll do to you.”

[slytherinshua]

SEA BREEZE KISSES

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes specifically in tense cause i usually don't write in present tense rip. pairing. wonbin x fem!reader. wc. 757. request. no. a/n. it's taken me this long to write for wonbin which is low-key embarrassing BUT WE'RE HERE FINALLY ‼️ also watermelon by lucy is so perfect for this fic just saying <3

The fabric of the vintage denim feels rough under your fingertips— your thumbs tucked securely in the belt loops of your boyfriend’s jeans as you hold onto his waist tightly, making sure there was no chance you could fall as he pedals along the oceanside road. The wind from the coastal sea breeze sends the subtle notes of his cologne to your nose, and you relax your cheek onto his back, completely at ease.

You almost feel as if this moment couldn’t get any more perfect. You have absolutely everything you could ever ask for. Your boyfriend who you haven’t seen in almost 5 months, your favourite sundress perfectly tailored to show off your best features, the most perfect weather imaginable and the deserted beach just for the two of you. You wish everyday could be as serene as this.

Wonbin taps the brakes on the bicycle gently, slowing to a stop as he reaches the pathway down to the beach. You get off first, exchanging giddy laughter and a knowing look with him before you take off running to the shore. 

“Y/n!! It’s not fair! You got a head start!” His shouts reach your ears along with the relaxing sound of the lapping waves, but you don’t bother turning around to see him struggle to catch up to you. You know he’s faster than you anyway. Within a couple seconds, he collides with your body in a back hug as both your feet finally reach the shoreline. 

You both laugh, holding onto each other’s arms as if either one would float away if you weren’t stuck together the entire time. The water feels cool against your bare legs, but you quickly realize that the bottom centimetres of Wonbin’s jeans have gotten soaked.

“These are nice jeans, baby! Don’t ruin them.” You crouch down, not minding if the hem of your dress got a little wet. You carefully roll up the bottom of the pant legs until they hit a bit below his knees. “We’ll probably get completely soaked anyway but-”

Before you can even finish your sentence, a squeal escapes your lips as Wonbin lifts you up in his arms without warning. He laughs at you, his eyes forming small crescent moons as he spins you around before placing you back down on your feet. Your lips collide next, the sweet strawberry lip gloss you always wear transferring onto Wonbin’s lips. He doesn’t bother to wipe it off once he pulls away, but instead swipes his tongue across his bottom lip, tasting the sticky gloss.

“New flavour?” He laughs, his hands holding your waist close to him.

“It’s been 5 months. They don’t last forever.” You smile, running your hands through the long locks of his dark hair. It’s significantly longer than the last time you saw him. Before, you couldn’t think that you could ever love how Wonbin looks more, but now you see that you’re proven wrong, once again. The long wolf cut frames his face perfectly, and you quickly get addicted to the soft feeling of the strands between your fingers.

“You mean you were wearing your lip gloss without me there to kiss it off?” He teases, tilting his head to the side. You can only nod, playing along with the lighthearted mood.

“I won’t do it again, sir.” You fake salute in response which only makes Wonbin laugh louder and clutch onto your waist tighter. But his touch is always gentle, just like he is. He’s so full of love for you that it’s infectious, and you can practically feel your heart swelling in your chest.

“I love you.” You mumble once your boyfriend’s giggles died down a little. You want to save the moment in your memory forever. The way his lips curve up into the cutest of smiles and his hand squeezes your hip gently with love. The waves rushing over your ankles and the smell of fresh sea air only add to the moment. 

He whispers it back to you and captures your lips with his again— this kiss lasting longer than the first one. It’s filled with unmeasurable passion and uncountable promises, and even though it’s silent, you can tell exactly what he wants to convey to you through it. You respond in just the same way, pulling him closer to you and melting completely in the feeling of his soft lips on yours.

Wonbin proves to you, as he always does, that every moment can become just a little more perfect than it already is.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr,, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo

[the-fiction-witch]

Sweetling P5

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Smut Word Count - 1708

Smut (18+) - heavy kissing/ nudity/ bitting/ Full sex/ Penetration/ unprotected/ PinV/ praising/ creampie/ grinding/ breeding kink kinda/ DomXSUB/ O/ Forced O/ (I think that's all of them)

she giggled and tempted him even more moving her hands one to her breasts to tug on her nipple and the other down to her rub rubbing and stroking herself moaning and gasping his name

He groaned. Gods, she was going to drive him mad if he didn’t stop her. He knelt on the bed behind her, leaning over her. “Y/n…”

"Please Jacaerys," she whimpers "My hands are nothing compared to you, please just once more,"

His breath hitched when she mentioned his manhood, his voice becoming more strained and deeper. “You’re going to be the death of me…” He shifted in between her legs, her words taking complete control of him. “How could I ever deny you?” He took his clothes off once again, tossing them onto the chair again once more. When he was once more naked, his body pressed against her front. He nipped lightly at her ear. “Do you want me this way, sweet girl..?”

she shook her head and turned over to her stomach rubbing her hips against him as she knelt down on the bed her face in the pillow,

He groaned when she rubbed her hips against him, a low moan leaving him as he gently gripped at her hips. He leaned over her form, his body over hers. “Oh my sweetling…” He growled against her skin before he nipped into her shoulder with his teeth. “You’ve made me into something feral…” He whispered against her skin. “It’s not going to be as soft as a night before…”

"Yes My prince," she whines,

He groaned at her words, her words making him only more needy, more wild. “You’re mine..” He gently bit down on her skin. “Say it.”

"I'm yours Jacaerys, all yours. Your pet. Your doll. Everything you desire. Ravish me for a final time in your bed before we fly away to a life of lust and love"

Her words made him nearly delirious, his mind spinning in desire and need. He growled against her skin and gripped her hips tighter as his own ground into hers, pressing his needy hard cock against her. “…my sweet girl…” Her words made him nearly delirious, his mind spinning in desire and need. He growled against her skin and gripped her hips tighter as his own ground into hers, pressing his needy hard length against her. “…my sweetling…”

"think of it Jace after today we can go and live a life where we never have to leave our bed”

He growled and gave her neck another bite, another mark to show she was his. “Just this one more time… then we’re off. Away from here. Just you and I. Anywhere we want…”

"one more time here. Then we go anywhere we want and this life of ecstasy and lust will be our forever ..."

He groaned and nodded in agreement, his voice coming out heavy and needy against her. “Yes…” One hand let go of her hip, moving instead to grip his own length, moving it through her soaked heat. “One more, One more time…” He groaned then bit her shoulder once again. “And then we’ll have a lifetime of this…”

she squealed as he slipped back inside her and began his movements her sounds purely feral, His movements were needy and feral along hers, moans and growls coming out against her skin. He was desperate for her just one more time in this room before they left. She was his, entirely his…

He growled, his teeth nipping into her skin once more, leaving another mark. “You’re mine…” His moans came out needy and desperate against her, his body and his thrusts needy and wild against her.

"All yours Prince Jacaerys" "she screamed

He held tight to her hips as he thrusted against her, his pace needy and wild as he buried his face into her shoulder. “Say that again… say you’re mine…” His breathing came fast and needy against her.

"I am yours completely you're Jacaerys, my prince! I am your doll, for your pleasure"

“Good girl…” He groaned and he moved his hand from his own length, instead burying it between her legs, his fingers finding her sensitive bud. “My sweet girl…”

she screamed and squealed screaming his name over and over

His pace was needy and wild as continued his work. “Oh my sweet girl, my beautiful girl…” He grunted as he buried his face in her neck, a low groan leaving him. “My sweet… darling girl… my sweetling”

"I'm am yours Jace your sweetling to use as you desire -" she was cut off by a choked moan as she was getting close,

He grunted as he worked her, his fingers working fast against her sensitive clit once more. “My own personal little doll…” He moaned against her skin. “So obedient…”

she screamed squirting down them as his voice shreds as she screamed his name,

“Gods…” He groaned as she screamed and came squeezing him tightly feeling her squirt all over him, making his need even worse. “I need you…”

"then use your little sweetling my Prince," she whimpers

A sharp gasp escaped him as he groaned into her neck. “Oh gods…” He was desperate for her, his body needy against her. His pace picked up again as he leaned over her, his face once more in her neck. “You’re my little doll…” He groaned against her neck. “Perfectly made for my pleasure, aren’t you”

"yes, Jacaerys. I'm your doll. Your little doll. Made to satisfy you. Made your your pleasure. Only for you. Your possession. I belong to you my Prince!"

He groaned and his pace grew wild once more, nearly feral as he leaned over her. “You’re mine…” He whispered against her neck, leaving another mark on her skin. “Such a good little doll…” He groaned against her skin “All mine…”

"your little doll Jacaerys!" She gasped as she knew he was close

“My lovely little doll…” He groaned and his pace was needy and wild, his moans coming out hot and feral against her skin. “You’re… so perfect…” His breath came in deep and heavy as he was nearly there, desperate for her, his pace feral as he groaned into her skin. “Take it…” He groaned against her neck. “Gods… I’m so close…”

"I'll take everything, everything you give me Jace. Give your little doll everything and I'll give you a son"

His breath hitched when she mentioned a son, that word making him nearly insane with need. His hips snapped against her as he groaned into her skin. “Oh gods… yes… I’ll give you every last drop…” he groans, “Take it… take it all my sweet girl…” He groaned against her neck as his pace picked up, his hips snapping against her as he was so close to the edge himself. His hand held tight to hers. “Sweetling…”

"I will I promise Jacaerys!" She squealed tightening around him

He groaned as she tightened around him, squeezing him, nearly driving him insane. “My sweet girl…” He groaned against her skin as he was close, so close, almost there as he panted against her neck. “Give me a son, my sweet girl…”

"I will give you a thousand sons my Prince" she gasped as she hit her second orgasm, her body trembling and screaming

He groaned loud and feral against her, nearly feral as that sent him spiralling over his edge, finding his end buried in her as he moaned her name loudly. “Y/n…” He stayed there panting for several moments, his body covering hers as he held her beneath him. “My sweet girl… my perfect girl… my sweetling” He groaned.

they both gasped for a few moments before she Giggled "You should get dressed" she teased "You'll be late for your wedding..."

He groaned against her, his hands tightening on her hips for a moment before he shifted, rolling off of her with a deep sigh. “Very well.”

Jacaerys took a few moments to sit up, his legs going over the side of the bed, sitting there for a moment. “Now I have to go be married…”

"mhm" she nodded sadly pouting

He saw her pout and groaned, standing up from the bed now and moving to grab his clothes, starting to dress. “Don’t pout sweetling”

He dressed as he spoke. “As soon as the event is over, we’ll be off. Flying away to just be together… and I know soon our first child will be born… I doubt we’ll leave that bed for some time…”

she sits up crossing her legs still naked pouting like a child as she sits with her hands in her lap

He groaned at the sight and shook his head. “…please have mercy, my sweet girl.” A little smile tugged at his lips. “I won’t be able to focus on the ceremony if you stay like that…”

"I can't help it... I'm sad"

He sighed and leaned down to her, one hand reached out and pushed some of her hair away from her face, gently cupping her cheek. “…You know I won’t love you any less, right? After this wedding… you’ll still be my sweetling.”

"I hope so,"

“I swear it.” He nodded gently, his thumb rubbing her cheek. “You’re mine… this is just a silly duty… I’ll still be the same Jacaerys after, with the same love… and if I have my way, we’ll have a litter of our own children before the year is up…”

"but... what if she's more beautiful than me? What if you see her and you truely fall in love with her? You will forget me"

His thumb kept rubbing her cheek as he shook his head. “She could be every bit as beautiful as the maiden made flesh, but I would never fall in love with her. It’s you I’m in love with. You’re my love, my own… my beautiful sweet girl.”

"but you're still going to go away..." She whines

He sighed gently and leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “... fuck it,”

“What?”

“Fuck it, get your things, we’ll leave. But quickly before they come looking for me,

“You mean it!?” She jumped from the bed holding his hands,

“I mean it my love, my sweetling, get your things, but we must be fast leave anything we can’t carry on Vermax, not like we need much to tie us to this life. Gather your things and we’ll be off and flying away to a life of love and lovemaking.”

“Truly?”

“Truly, come on my sweetling I can't wait a moment for our life… together,” He cooed, 

Masterlist Of Jacaerys Velaryon

[dre6ming]

how would austin propose to reader?

Be mine forever?

He’s been dreaming of this moment for so long and every time he saw himself doing something so over the top and special for Y/n, but then he’d take a step back and remember who he was actually dating

Austin’s had the ring for a while now and he carries it with him, just in case one moment feels just perfect

He tries not to think too hard about the time he almost lost the ring, when he forgot his jacket at a restaurant, right after he really felt like that was it, but then the food came and you started to gossip and talk and he forgot

Secretly you’ve known about the ring for just as long as he’s had it, you found it doing laundry, he had forgotten it in he pocket of his jeans and you felt the box right before you threw them in the wash.

At one point you get impatient, Austin gets impatient, his family (who gave him his moms ring) gets impatient, but he just can’t make up his mind

Until…..

One day you step into the apartment, expecting to see Austin greet you excitedly, but instead being met with silence.

Walking further you see a trail of petals leading from the main entrance to your bedroom and your heart rate picks up as you follow it.

The door is slightly cracked and you push it further, revealing the room to you.

The smell is what hits you first, fresh flowers, so many fresh flowers, flowers of all colors, pink, red, white, you name it.

You look around and you see pictures of you and Austin hanging from the ceiling, tears start to gather in your eyes as you remember all the beautiful moments

You hear footsteps and then turn around to see Austin, dressed in white and blue striped pajamas pants, chest naked and hair disheveled, he looks Devine

“Nine hundred ninety nine flowers, nine hundred ninety nine pictures, I thought we could make it a thousand?” He says giving you a pink peony to hold.

The ring is tied around it with pink ribbon and your hands shake.

“Be my wife, be my forever? I’ve been thinking of the best way to ask, but I should have just done the thing I knew you’d love the most, just us two, you and me.” His voice sounds like hot honey and you almost melt to the ground

“Yes!” You say breathless and he hugs you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. Placing both your feet back on the ground Austin’s shaky hands take the ring off of the flower and his delicate fingers hold your left hand up, sliding the ring on.

“A perfect fit!” You whisper absently and he chuckles. “I put it on your finger once when you were sleeping, got it resized after” you laugh at his efforts and thank whatever higher force brought such a man in your life. “I love you!” You say, kissing his nose while he’s preoccupied to look at the ring on your hand, still not believing he actually did it, he finally asked you.

“Now for the one thousand picture.” Austin says, shaking his head like waking up from a dream. You furrow your brows confused as he drags you over to the bed, telling you to sit on it. “I got the camera set up, filmed everything too!” He admits, showing you the small remote used to operate the device.

He sits on the bed with you and smiles, then he hits the button on the remote and you hear the timer of the camera going. Austin takes your left hand in both of his hands and he places a kiss on you knuckles. “ I love you forever!”

Masterlist

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