#love is casual and found in the little things

[pretzel-box]

STREAMER AU MASTERLIST HERE

CHAPTER 6: I AM RIGHT AND I HAVE WON

tags: I don't know how to tag this? Painter exposes Allison?

words: 4k

authors note: I am not happy with how I wrote it, I blame the lack of a laptop.

In the span of three weeks, moved five individual people in five individual places.

Sebastian was the first,

After Allison had exposed his roommate a week ago, he was confused, angry and somewhat surprised. The man found himself glancing at everything that was connected to you, the bedroom door, the empty work desk, the chinese takeout shop and most importantly the second helmet for his bike.

This particular helmet wasn't really yours but you wore it so much in the past that it was basically owned by you.

Those little things conflicted him dearly, since he was sure, even with your weird love-hate friendship, did you both co-existed pretty well.

Yet, even as those small reminders tugged at him, Allison's words kept looping in his mind.

They set you up, you know that, right? she had said, her voice laced with feigned concern. All this time, they’ve been playing you—just so they could stay close to Solace. You're just a pawn.

Sebastian couldn't shake it off. The idea that you, the person who had shared his space and a fragile, weird friendship with him, might have been using him gnawed at him. He hated how much it made sense. Allison had laid it out perfectly—too perfectly, in hindsight—but in the chaos of everything, it sounded believable.

The constant replay of that accusation left him uneasy, and now every memory was tainted with doubt. The late-night laughs, the casual banter, even the tension that always bubbled beneath the surface. Was all of that staged? Was your connection to him just a ploy? He didn’t want to believe it, but Allison’s words had already planted the seed.

And then there was the part that unsettled him the most.

According to Allison, you loved him, in a way that bordered on obsession. She had claimed that every time you looked at him, it was with a deeper attachment than he’d realized—something beyond friendship, beyond even the regular crush. It was an unhealthy fixation. He was the center of your world, and it had all been hidden behind the mask of your chaotic yet comfortable interactions.

Sebastian felt conflicted. He hadn't noticed anything like that before. Sure, you had your quirks, but it never crossed his mind that it went that deep. Maybe he missed it because he'd never seen you in that light.

But that’s where the real problem lay—what he didn’t know was that Allison’s words were a lie, carefully crafted to make him doubt everything. You didn’t love him in that unhealthy way, and you’d never set him up. But the damage was done. The seed of doubt had been planted, and Sebastian was starting to wonder if everything between you had been a game all along.

Sebastian only found comfort in a single person right now, his best friend.

He swung his leg over his bike, secured his helmet, and drove off to visit his friend once more.

The second was Mama Solace.

Sebastian’s mother had finally found the time and money for a much-needed vacation, and it just so happened to be close to her son. A coincidence? Perhaps not. She loved Sebastian fiercely, more than life itself, and it was time once again to remind him of that with one of her unexpected, affectionate visits.

The last time she had dropped by was when you first moved in, becoming Sebastian’s roommate.

Oh, how she adored you from the moment she laid eyes on you. You had all the qualities she dreamed of in a partner for her son—sweet, caring, and just the right amount of fierce. She saw the connection between you two right away, even if Sebastian refused to acknowledge it. In her mind, you were already the perfect match for her precious boy. You had no idea just how often she'd drop hints, trying to nudge Sebastian toward you, much to his exasperation.

But that was Mama Solace—she loved to meddle in the most loving way possible. This visit would be no different.

She sat in the comfort of the plane, ready to depart from her home country to meet you two again.

The third person was Allison.

She darted around a local clothing store, her father’s credit card clutched in her manicured fingers like it was a divine gift. Her gel nails clicked against the plastic as she browsed the racks, the shopping spree a temporary balm for the simmering rage she felt toward you. Her irritation with you had long passed the point of tolerable, and only the thrill of buying something new could calm her nerves.

How dare you disrupt her carefully laid plans? All you had to do was stay in your lane, accept your role, and everything would have gone smoothly. But no—you had to get in the way, threatening the perfect web of control she thought she had spun. The plan had been flawless, but now, with every step you took, you were messing it all up.

Sebastian, thankfully, was still in the dark about everything. He was too distracted, too wrapped up in his own confusion to see the truth right in front of him. But that was fine with her. Allison believed she held all the cards. She had you, Sebastian, and the whole situation under her control—or so she thought.

She smiled to herself, picking up a striking red dress—perfect for her next date with Sebastian. The fabric would hug her in all the right places, showing off her figure. In her mind, it was only a matter of time before he saw her the way she pretended to see him, and this dress would be another step toward that.

As she stepped up to the cash register, her confidence faltered when the cashier swiped her card and it declined. Her father was still furious with her, apparently. She gritted her teeth in frustration, but quickly smoothed over her expression. She wasn't about to let this minor inconvenience ruin her day.

Without missing a beat, Allison pulled out her phone, her fingers dancing across the screen like it was second nature. She knew exactly how to handle this.

"Hey, handsome," she texted, her words dripping with flirtation. "Mind helping your favorite girl out?~"

It was easy—too easy, in fact. She had gotten used to manipulating situations to her advantage, and she was confident Sebastian would give her money. He always did.

Then there was Painter.

While Allison paid with Sebastian’s help and strolled out of the shop, Painter quietly entered his own—at the other end of the city center. Today, the usual sleek black suit made from expensive cotton was left in the closet. Instead, he wore a casual outfit: thrifted brown pants, a simple white shirt, and a green checkered vest that his mother had picked out for him years ago. He never liked it at first, but eventually, he came to admit—green was definitely his color.

Dressed like this, Painter looked like any other trendy, laid-back guy. You'd never guess he was the heir to Urbanshade, one of the most powerful companies around. His father had been grooming him for years to take over, especially after Painter managed to graduate from Yale with top honors. He was the pride of the family—a model Ivy League student, exactly as his parents had always hoped for.

But unlike his friend Sebastian, who lived by his own chaotic set of rules, Painter was always one of those people who excelled in everything, effortlessly. To the outside world, he was the golden child, the genius destined for greatness.

Yet for Painter, it was all a curse. His intelligence, his success—it only weighed him down, shackling him to a future he didn’t want. His heart was never in the world of business, but his family couldn't see that. To them, he was the prodigy who would continue the legacy. To him, it was a prison. The more success he achieved, the more trapped he felt.

It was why he enjoyed days like this—disappearing into the city, blending into the crowd where nobody knew or expected anything from him. Just for a little while, he could pretend to be someone else, a simple tech shop owner that tries to raise his own money to open up a small art studio instead.

While he worked, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the keys of his laptop, his thoughts inevitably drifted to you. He had seen you a few times with Sebastian in the city, always from a distance. Yet, despite never formally meeting you, he knew more about you than you could have imagined. Sebastian had talked about you often, and though Painter stayed in the shadows of your life, observing from afar, something stirred in his chest whenever he thought of you.

It was ironic, really. He was so familiar with the details of your existence, while you didn’t even know he existed. You were unaware of the person quietly watching your story unfold, aching from the sidelines. There was something about you that captivated him—perhaps it was the way you seemed to bring a kind of life to those around you, or maybe it was simply how you existed in Sebastian’s orbit.

But there was one thing that bothered him more than anything: Allison.

It pained him to know how she had manipulated your life, how she had sunk her claws into Sebastian’s world and, by extension, yours. Painter had known for some time what Allison was up to, and unlike Sebastian, he could see right through her facade.

Just like Allison, Painter had developed his own plan.

But his wasn't born out of selfishness or jealousy. It was something else—something more complex. While he hated to admit it, he wanted to find a way to cross paths with you, to help you in a way that would loosen the hold Allison had over you. And maybe, just maybe, he'd get closer to you in the process.

Though Painter’s mind was sharp, his heart was tangled in emotions he didn’t yet fully understand.

The last person who could understand Painter’s feelings was you.

You were navigating the city streets, your hands busily typing on your phone, trying to figure out where exactly you needed to go. With your streaming account temporarily banned, you had decided to get your laptop fixed—the keys were loose, and the screen was slightly cracked. The device had been with you for years, but it was clearly on its last legs. Maybe it was time for a new one, but for now, fixing it seemed like the easier option.

Eventually, you spotted it: a neat little shop with good reviews online. It seemed like the right place, and with a deep breath, you stepped inside.

Immediately, the smell of coffee greeted you. The shop had a warm, comfortable atmosphere, far cozier than you’d expected for a tech repair spot. There were shelves lined with new devices, a small selection of popular games, and a table for waiting customers. Despite the welcoming vibe, the place seemed empty—except for a young man at the counter.

He caught your eye right away, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit that seemed effortless. His name tag drew your attention next, and you noticed something curious: an elegant name had been crossed out with a dry black marker, replaced with a word scribbled hastily over it—"Painter."

You weren’t sure what to make of him, but something about him seemed different. And without knowing it, the moment you stepped into the shop, you had walked into his world.

"Uhm, hi?" you greeted, your voice breaking the silence.

The young man behind the counter stared at you, caught off guard as if you had walked in at the worst possible moment. His eyes lingered on you for just a second too long, making the situation feel a bit awkward. There was something about the way he looked at you—almost like you had thrown him off balance. The way his gaze fixed on you, wide and a little too intense, made you wonder if you’d interrupted something.

"Oh, h-hello! Welcome, greetings. How can I help you today?" he stammered, clearly flustered. His response was a mix of polite and awkward, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to walk in. Maybe he wasn’t used to customers, or perhaps he was just an intern still getting the hang of things. Either way, he seemed utterly unprepared.

You smiled politely, deciding not to dwell on his awkwardness. "I’m here to get my laptop fixed," you explained, pulling the device from your bag and setting it on the counter. "It's been acting up—some of the keys are loose, and the screen's a bit cracked."

He nodded, though you noticed his hands were a bit shaky as he reached for the laptop. "Right, of course. I’ll take a look."

As he started inspecting the device, you took a moment to glance around the shop again, feeling oddly comfortable despite the rocky start to the conversation. There was something about him, though—his nervous energy, the way he seemed to be trying so hard to maintain a professional front. It was endearing in its own way.

What you didn’t know was that Painter wasn’t usually like this. Normally, he was calm and collected, able to handle even the most difficult situations. But the moment you walked in, something shifted. He had seen you before, from a distance, but never this close, and he wasn’t prepared for the rush of feelings he hadn’t even realized were there.

A small, unspoken crush had quietly crept up on him. He didn’t know why, but there was something about you that drew him in. And now, standing there with your laptop in his hands, he was doing his best to keep it together.

"I can take a look at it later. I’d say you can pick it back up… in like a week?" Painter offered, casting a polite smile your way. His expression was calm and professional, but beneath that exterior, his heart was racing.

You nodded, accepting his answer. After settling some details, you left your beloved laptop in his care, trusting him with the task. It felt strange to part with it, but the shop seemed reliable enough, and Painter—despite his awkwardness—seemed competent.

As you exited the store, you had no idea what you’d just set in motion.

For Painter, this wasn’t just a simple repair job. When you left your laptop with him, you unknowingly handed him exactly what he needed—the tools to execute the plan he’d been carefully crafting. Allison had been manipulating both you and Sebastian for far too long, and now Painter had the opportunity to expose her for what she truly was.

Your laptop would be the key to unraveling her schemes, and he was determined to set everything right, even if it meant crossing a few lines along the way.

Five people had already been moved. Now, it was Painter's turn to move them again, or at least some of them.

He had you exactly where he wanted. You left the shop, your laptop in his possession. That was step one. Now, he had to breach your digital privacy. He’d never done anything like this before, and the thought of doing what Allison had once done left a heavy weight in his gut. Yet, as soon as you left, he got to work. The laptop was old, practically ancient, but logging into your profile was easy—there wasn’t even a password. Your naivety was almost charming.

Everything was there—passwords, emails, data, and every digital memory. It was essentially Jelly’s—no, your—entire identity, captured in one place. He could call Sebastian, expose the laptop, and reveal his nasty girlfriend’s secrets. But no, Painter was above that. He preferred to play god.

His personality was usually against it but he will gladly bend the rules for his best friend…and his own potential crush.

Step two was breaching the streaming website to reclaim your account. A task simple enough for a Yale student with the right tools. Allison thought she'd been 'Jellycatfished,' but now it was Painter in control.

The account was exactly as you and Allison had left it. He couldn’t resist clicking on one of the stream recaps, your voice filling the room through the laptop speakers. There it was—undeniably yours.

He snatched his phone off the counter and dialed a number.

“‘Delia, bring the camera and the good microphone. We’re shooting something at the shop.” Cordelia, another worker in the store and a small-time content streamer, was known for her quirky charm. He knew she was the perfect partner for what he had in mind.

“Painter? For what?” she asked.

“We’re about to make someone a star.”

Cordelia didn’t hesitate. She was on her way, gathering the equipment for a hidden camera setup along with a quality microphone."

Next, it was Painter's turn to text Allison. He still remembered her number from when he’d seen it on Sebastian’s phone. A plan began to form in his mind, one that required precision and just the right touch of manipulation.

'Hey, Allison, right? Sebastian left a gift for you here. Here’s the address.'

He included the shop’s address, carefully typing it out before hitting send. He imagined the moment her phone would buzz, her eyes narrowing at the unexpected message. Would she hesitate, wondering if it was real? Or would her curiosity get the best of her?

Painter smiled to himself. Everything was falling into place. He wasn’t just setting a trap—he was weaving a performance, a story in which Allison would play a crucial role. Now, all he had to do was wait for the show to begin.

It was evening, and the store had long since closed, lights were out, though Painter had left the door unlocked. Everything was meticulously arranged—candles flickered softly, casting a warm glow around the room; a bouquet of red roses sat elegantly on the counter. But the centerpiece was Painter himself, dressed in an expensive, perfectly tailored cotton suit. He had spent hours preparing, adjusting his tie, combing his hair, making sure every detail was flawless. As he caught his reflection in the window, he almost didn’t recognize himself. He had never looked better.

Then, the door creaked open, and Allison stepped in. She wore a tight red dress that clung to her in all the right places, her hair perfectly styled. She carried herself with an air of confidence, as if she expected something grand—but her eyes betrayed her surprise as they scanned the room. The soft candlelight, the roses, and finally, they settled on Painter.

For a moment, there was silence as their gazes met.

"Let me introduce myself," Painter began, his voice calm and formal, though inside, the sweetness of his own tone made him sick. He forced a charming smile, the kind that was too perfect, too practiced. "I’m Painter—it’s a nickname," he added with a soft chuckle, as if trying to break the ice. "And I’m the heir to Urbanshade Corp."

He let the weight of his words linger, watching her reaction. He could see the curiosity in her eyes, the slight confusion.

"You’re probably wondering why you’re here," he continued, his voice smooth and rehearsed, like this was a well-orchestrated play.

This wasn’t just a conversation—it was a performance, and she had walked right into his scene.

"Painter? What’s going on? Where’s Sebastian?" Allison asked, her voice laced with surprise, though Painter could see she was already caught in his web.

"He’s not here. Sorry, I lied," Painter admitted, his tone smooth, but with a playful hint. He took a slow step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Can you really blame me for wanting to be alone with someone so beautiful?"

He took another step, closing the distance between them.

"So... funny."

He was closer now, almost brushing against her.

"And intelligent?" His voice dropped to a whisper as he stood chest to chest with her, his breath warm against her ear.

Allison's eyes flickered with realization. The heir to Urbanshade Corp, standing so close, so eager—was he asking her out? Maybe it wasn’t so crazy to consider. A man of his status, his wealth... she could have a little fun on the side. A side fling wouldn’t hurt, right?

She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his suit under her fingers, catching the scent of his expensive aftershave. "You’re quite charming yourself," she said, her voice laced with a fake giggle designed to make men fall at her feet. But Painter played along, his smile widening.

"Oh?" he murmured, his voice dripping with charm. "Maybe you’d like to show me just how much?"

Allison leaned in, rising onto her toes to meet his height, her lips brushing close to his own, not touching yet. The tension between them was thick, charged with unspoken possibilities. For a brief moment, Painter thought he had her, that she was playing into his hands.

But then she stopped.

His lips hovered just shy of her skin as he whispered, "How much... you’re lying."

The playful edge in his tone had vanished, replaced by cold calculation. He would love to slap her, simply for cheating on his best friend. But now was hardly the time, not like this.

“You are not supposed to be his girlfriend. You are not Jelly and you don't deserve him.” His words caught her in surprise before she seemed to laugh.

“What do you know? They stole my identity! Ask Sebastian! I am the victim!” It was a poor try to defend herself.

“A victim? Another brilliant lie, congratulations. You officially make me sick.” The words were enough to set off her rage and she raised a hand to hit him, a hand that he caught in the middle of the action. “Don't you dare.”

“You know what? Fine, to hell with you. I am NOT them but it doesn't matter because everyone believes me anyways. I HAVE PLAYED YOU ALL. I GOT THE ACCOUNT BANNED. FUCK YOU, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU STUPID IDIOTS. SEBASTIAN IS MINE AND I WON. I AM RIGHT AND I HAVE WON. I STOLE THEIR IDENTITY AND BECAME JELLYCATFISHED.”

Suddenly, the ceiling lights blazed to life, flooding the store in harsh white light. Allison blinked, momentarily blinded, as Cordelia stepped out from behind the shadows, a sly grin on her face.

"And that’s a wrap!" Cordelia announced, her voice dripping with amusement. "Great work, everyone. So authentic, Painter." She shot her boss a playful wink.

Allison’s eyes darted from Cordelia to Painter, confusion overtaking her. A second ago, she had been in control—or so she thought. But now, the anger and seduction drained from her face, replaced by a wide-eyed, flabbergasted look. She felt like a deer caught in headlights, utterly lost.

"You see," Painter began, his voice smooth but laced with triumph, "43 thousand people just witnessed your grand confession. Live and in full HD." He let the weight of his words sink in, a twisted smile forming as he saw the realization dawn in her eyes. "You’re a star now, Allison. Just like you always wanted to be."

Cordelia had filmed it all—the near-cheating, the manipulation, the confession—and streamed it live on Jellycatfished, the very platform that had become Allison’s downfall.

Painter took a step back, admiring his work. His plan had come together beautifully, every detail falling into place like a carefully painted masterpiece. He couldn’t help but applaud himself mentally for the sheer brilliance of it all. Soon enough, the lawsuit would hit Allison—public shame was only the beginning.

Outside the store, Sebastian stood frozen, just out of sight but close enough to hear everything. His phone was clenched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white with the pressure. He had seen the signs but ignored them, convinced he knew the truth. But now, as the reality of what had unfolded hit him, it was clear.

He had been wrong. And he had lost.

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, afab!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter three of four!

wc. 4.1K

↳ part 1 | part 2 | part 4

Returning to your usual routine felt strange, like slipping into clothes that no longer quite fit. The petals were gone, your chest no longer a battlefield of pain and breathlessness, but everything around you seemed different—distant, unfamiliar. You were different now, too.

There was an emptiness inside you where the love for Gojo had once been, and though you had chosen to let it go, it left a hollow ache in its absence, one that wasn’t quite pain, but wasn’t quite peace either.

Your classmates had been worried during your absence, though you hadn’t realized just how much until you returned. The moment you stepped into the common area, Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara had practically ambushed you, their faces a mixture of relief and curiosity. They didn’t ask for details, but you could see the concern etched in their eyes. They had missed you, and in their own way, they had been afraid for you.

“Welcome back!” Yuji had shouted with a grin, throwing his arms around you in a tight hug before you could protest.

Nobara had slapped him away, her voice sharp but affectionate. “Don’t suffocate her, idiot! She just got back.”

You smiled, something warm and bittersweet flickering in your chest. It was odd, being the center of attention like this, but it was genuine. They cared about you, and for once, you didn’t feel invisible.

It was Yuji’s idea to throw a small party—just something casual, a way to celebrate your return and ease you back into things. It was held in one of the dorm common areas, with snacks and music and the comfortable chaos that always followed when the group got together. Megumi sat in his usual quiet corner, pretending to be annoyed by Yuji and Nobara’s antics, while the two of them argued over who was better at throwing a surprise.

It should have felt normal, but there was an odd undercurrent to everything. The laughter and lightheartedness of the party felt like it was happening in a different world, one you could only observe from the outside. You were here, back with your friends, but everything felt just a little… off. Like you were living someone else’s life.

Gojo wasn’t there.

Yuji hadn’t invited him, which made sense—nobody knew you and Gojo had any kind of connection beyond teacher and student. To your classmates, there was no reason for Gojo to be involved in your recovery. You hadn’t been particularly close to him before, and there was no visible sign of what had happened between you two. No one knew how close Gojo had been to your side during your illness, how he had tried to help even when he couldn’t. No one knew that your love for him had nearly killed you.

He hadn’t even been a topic of conversation at the party. Everyone was too focused on celebrating your return, on making sure you felt welcomed and cared for. But you felt the absence of his presence, that strange void where your feelings for him had been. Even though the surgery had taken away the love that had once suffocated you, the memories lingered.

You had once loved him so deeply that it had torn your body apart, flowers blooming in your lungs, choking you with every breath. And yet now, standing here surrounded by your friends, the love was gone. The pain was gone. And Gojo… was on the sidelines.

As the party went on, you found yourself glancing toward the windows, half-expecting to see him there, lurking in the shadows with that familiar casual smirk. You knew he wouldn’t show up, not after what had happened. He had given you space, but the quiet knowledge of his absence felt strange. He had been such a presence in your life for so long, even if it had been from a distance. Now that you no longer carried that weight in your heart, it was like a piece of your world had been quietly removed.

Yuji and Nobara were arguing again, this time over the playlist, their voices rising in playful banter. Megumi sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as if to say, *This is my life now.*

You smiled softly, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

As the night went on, you found yourself stepping outside for a moment, the noise and laughter inside becoming too much. You leaned against the cool wall of the dormitory, taking a deep breath of the crisp evening air. It felt refreshing, but empty.

You didn’t miss the pain. You didn’t miss the flowers or the coughing, or the slow, suffocating death that had been consuming you. But there was something about the absence of love that left you feeling… untethered. You had built so much of your world around those feelings, even though they had been unrequited, even though they had been the source of your suffering.

Now, standing outside in the quiet, you realized just how much had changed.

Gojo hadn’t just been your teacher—he had been the center of your world, even if only from afar. And now that he wasn’t, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Megumi step outside, his usual frown in place. He gave you a small nod, then leaned against the wall beside you without saying a word. It was a quiet, comforting presence, one that didn’t demand anything of you. He didn’t ask how you were feeling or what had happened. He just… existed with you, in the moment.

“Strange, isn’t it?” he said after a while, his voice low. “Being back.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet understanding in his words. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “It’s… weird.”

He nodded, not pressing further, and the two of you stood in silence for a while longer. It was comforting, in its own way, but the emptiness inside you still lingered.

Maybe it always would.

As you looked up at the night sky, the stars shining faintly above, you couldn’t help but wonder where Gojo was at that moment. You knew he was close by—he never went too far from his students, from the school. But you hadn’t seen him since your surgery, since that quiet, heartbreaking moment when you had told him that you didn’t love him anymore.

And the strangest part? You couldn’t even feel sad about it. The love was gone, and with it, the grief.

But the memory of that love… that was something you would carry forever. Even if no one else knew. Even if Gojo himself never spoke of it again.

Gojo stood on the rooftop of the school, his usual spot when he wanted to be alone, when the weight of everything around him became too much to carry. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and his blindfold was pulled down over his eyes, though it did nothing to block out what he could see—the world beneath him, the cursed energy of everyone around him, flickering like lights in the distance.

He knew the party was happening downstairs. He knew exactly where you were. He hadn’t been invited, of course, which made sense to everyone except him. To Yuji and the others, you were just another student, someone he barely knew beyond the occasional glance during class. They didn’t know what had really happened. They didn’t know how close things had come to falling apart.

They didn’t know how much he had noticed—how much he had tried to help, even when there was nothing he could do.

He leaned against the railing, letting out a slow breath as he stared into the night sky, though his mind was far from the stars. The memory of your confession—of how deeply you had loved him, enough to let it nearly kill you—played over and over again in his head. And now, it was gone. You were alive, and that was all that mattered, right?

But the truth was, it didn’t feel that simple.

Gojo wasn’t used to this feeling—the helplessness that had gripped him when he found out about your hanahaki, when he’d watched you struggle, suffer, knowing that your love for him had been the cause. He’d always been the one with the answers, the one who could fix things with a flick of his hand or a burst of cursed energy. But this—this was different. Love wasn’t something he could fight or control, and that terrified him in a way he wouldn’t admit to anyone.

The memory of your face, pale and exhausted, haunted him. He’d been there when Shoko had told you about the surgery, and the look in your eyes when you realized what you’d have to give up… it had hit him harder than he expected. You’d chosen to live, to let go of your feelings for him, and part of him knew that was the right choice.

But the other part—the selfish part—couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if things had been different. What if he’d noticed sooner? What if he’d been able to stop it before the flowers had started blooming in your chest? What if… what if you still loved him?

He pushed that thought away as quickly as it came. It didn’t matter now. What was done was done. You were back, alive and recovering, and that was what mattered. You were moving on, returning to your life, and he had to do the same.

And yet, despite knowing all of that, Gojo couldn’t bring himself to go down to the party. He couldn’t just pretend that everything was normal, that you were just another student. You weren’t. Not anymore.

The wind blew softly across the rooftop, carrying the sound of laughter from below. He could hear Yuji’s voice, loud and full of energy, and Nobara’s sharp retorts, followed by Megumi’s quiet, tired sighs. He could even hear you—your voice softer, but still there, mingling with the others as if nothing had changed.

But Gojo knew better. Everything had changed.

He had stood by your side during those last few days before the surgery, watching you struggle to breathe, watching the flowers bloom in your lungs, knowing that you had loved him so deeply it was killing you. He hadn’t known what to say then, hadn’t known how to handle the weight of your feelings. Gojo had always kept his distance from things like that—emotions, love, vulnerability. He wasn’t meant for those things. His world was built on power and control, not feelings that could destroy someone from the inside out.

And now… now he wondered if that distance had been a mistake.

He couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind, the moment you had looked at him, pale and exhausted, and told him that you didn’t love him anymore. The surgery had taken away the flowers, the pain, the love. You had been so calm when you said it, so certain, but it had shaken him. For the first time in a long time, Gojo didn’t know what to do.

Because he didn’t realize, not until that moment, that maybe he hadn’t wanted you to stop loving him.

It wasn’t that he returned your feelings—he wasn’t even sure he could love someone the way you had loved him—but there had been something about your quiet, unspoken affection that had anchored him in a way he didn’t fully understand. And now it was gone, erased by the surgery that had saved your life.

Gojo sighed, running a hand through his hair, pushing the blindfold up just enough to let the night air brush against his skin. He wasn’t used to feeling this conflicted. Usually, he knew exactly what to do, how to act, how to handle any situation. But this was different. This wasn’t something he could fight or fix. It was done. You had made your choice, and now he had to live with it.

But that didn’t make it any easier.

From the corner of his vision, he saw movement—someone stepping outside the dorm. He didn’t need to look closely to know it was you. He could sense your energy from anywhere, even now, even after everything had changed. You were standing just outside the door, staring up at the night sky, your face unreadable.

For a moment, he considered going down to you, saying something, anything. But what would he even say? Sorry for not noticing you sooner? Sorry for not loving you back?

None of it would change the fact that you were standing there, alive but different, the love you had once felt for him wiped away like it had never existed.

Gojo watched you for a long moment, his heart heavy with something he couldn’t quite name. Regret, maybe. Loss. He wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, it weighed on him more than he expected.

Finally, he turned away from the edge of the rooftop, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. He couldn’t stay here, lingering on what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. That wasn’t how the world worked, and he knew it.

But as he walked away from the rooftop, away from you, a quiet thought lingered in the back of his mind:

Maybe I should’ve let you love me after all.

The days that followed your return to class were a strange limbo of routine and discomfort. You tried to slip back into your usual rhythm—taking notes, going through exercises, training with your classmates—but everything felt just a bit off. You were going through the motions, trying to exist in a world where the most important thing about you, the love that had nearly destroyed you, was gone. But the emptiness it left behind had its own kind of weight.

And Gojo was still there, always hovering in the background. His presence was impossible to ignore, even when he wasn’t directly interacting with you. His playful attitude, the way he made Yuji and Nobara laugh, his easy command of the room—none of it had changed. But to you, it felt different. Every glance in his direction was a reminder of the love you no longer felt, and yet… something lingered. It wasn’t love, not like before, but it wasn’t nothing, either.

It was after a particularly exhausting training session that you found yourself alone with Gojo once more. The others had gone ahead, leaving the training grounds in their usual rush, but you had lingered, too tired to keep up. You were about to head back to your dorm when you heard his voice behind you.

“Hey, you got a minute?”

You froze, your heart quickening, though not from affection. It was something else—fear, hesitation. Slowly, you turned to face him. He stood there, looking relaxed as always, but there was an intensity in his posture that you hadn’t seen before. His blindfold covered his eyes, but you knew he was watching you closely, reading every movement.

You sighed, bracing yourself for whatever this conversation was going to be. “What is it, Gojo?”

He took a step closer, his voice unusually soft. “I just… I’ve been thinking about everything. You’ve been quiet. We haven’t talked since… you know.”

The mention of the surgery sent a cold shiver down your spine, and you could feel your stomach twist in knots. You didn’t want to talk about it, but you knew that avoiding it forever was impossible. You nodded, looking away from him. “Yeah. It’s been… weird.”

Gojo crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as he studied you. “Weird how?”

You sighed again, frustrated that he was making you spell it out. “You know how. The surgery took away the love I had for you, and now I’m just… here. Trying to figure out how to be around you again.”

His expression didn’t change, but you could feel the tension in the air between you. He had been so calm and distant since your recovery, giving you space, acting like everything was fine. But now that the subject was out in the open, neither of you could ignore it any longer.

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Gojo said quietly, his voice losing its usual lightness. “But I’ve been thinking… and I guess I need to ask—what now? What do you want?”

The question hit you like a punch to the chest. What did you want? You hadn’t allowed yourself to think about that since the surgery. You were too busy just trying to exist, to move forward without the overwhelming burden of unrequited love. But now, faced with Gojo’s question, you felt the flood of emotions you’d been holding back come rushing forward.

“I’m afraid to be around you,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, but you pressed on. “The surgery… it’s not supposed to keep someone from loving forever. That’s what Shoko told me. And… you… you’re too easy to love, Gojo.”

Gojo’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but he didn’t move. He stood there, arms crossed, his expression unreadable behind his blindfold. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he was processing your words.

You took a step back, needing space. “You make it easy for people to fall for you. You’re charming, you’re kind—at least when it matters. And I’m afraid if I stay around you too long, it’s going to happen again. And this time, there won’t be any surgery. I’ll just… fall for you again, and then what? What happens then?”

The silence between you grew heavier, and Gojo finally uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides. His usual easy grin was gone, replaced by something quieter, something more vulnerable. “I didn’t know you felt like that.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “Of course you didn’t. You didn’t even notice me until it was too late.”

The words stung, even though you hadn’t meant for them to come out so harshly. But Gojo didn’t flinch. He just stood there, taking it in, his jaw tight. “I notice you now.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, but that’s not enough. It doesn’t change the fact that this happened. It doesn’t change what we went through.”

Gojo shifted, stepping closer, his voice soft but insistent. “I get it. I do. And maybe I didn’t see you before, not the way I should have, but I’m here now. I don’t want to make this harder for you. I just—”

You cut him off, your voice sharp with frustration. “What do you want, Gojo? You keep asking me what I want, but you haven’t told me what you want. Do you want me to stay around and pretend like none of this happened? Do you want me to just… be fine with whatever this is now? What do you want?”

Gojo was silent for a long moment, and for once, you could see the cracks in his usual armor. He didn’t have the answers this time, didn’t have the usual confidence he carried so effortlessly. He hesitated, as if searching for the right words, but they didn’t come easily.

“I don’t know,” he admitted finally, his voice quiet. “I just don’t want to lose you. Not like that.”

You felt your chest tighten, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “You already did,” you whispered. “You lost me the moment I had to let go of everything I felt for you. You can’t just fix that.”

Gojo flinched, and for the first time since you’d known him, he looked lost. Completely and utterly lost. He took a deep breath, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

The apology hung in the air between you, heavy with all the things that couldn’t be unsaid, all the feelings that had already been taken from you. And as you stood there, staring at him, you realized that you didn’t have the energy to figure this out right now. You were still too raw, too afraid of what could happen if you stayed too close for too long.

“I need time,” you said softly, your voice shaky. “I need space, Gojo. Because I don’t know what happens next either, but I can’t let myself fall for you again. I can’t survive that.”

Gojo nodded slowly, his expression somber. “Take all the time you need. I won’t push.”

The room was quiet, the air thick with unspoken tension as you stood there, just a few feet away from Gojo. His presence was overwhelming, as it always had been, but now, there was something different. Something more vulnerable, more raw. You could see it in the way he stood, in the way he spoke—there were no barriers between you now, no more deflection, no more pretending that nothing had changed. Everything had changed, and there was no going back.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked at him, your voice barely a whisper as you asked the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind since your conversation began.

“And what if I love you again?”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and uncertain, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. You could feel the weight of your own fear pressing down on you, the fear that had been gnawing at you since the surgery—the fear that it wasn’t truly over, that despite everything, despite the surgery meant to strip those feelings away, you could still fall for him again.

Gojo’s expression didn’t change, but his shoulders tensed, and you could see the way his hands twitched slightly, as though he was fighting the urge to reach out to you. His blindfold covered his eyes, but you could feel his gaze, heavy and intent, as he took in your words.

He let out a slow, controlled breath, his voice soft but steady when he finally spoke. “If you love me again… then we deal with that, too. Together.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing at the calm certainty in his voice. It wasn’t the answer you had expected—wasn’t the answer you were prepared for. You had thought Gojo would try to pull away, to protect both of you from the possibility of going through this all over again. But instead, he was standing here, telling you that if it happened—if you fell in love with him again—he wouldn’t run.

“You’re not scared of that?” you asked quietly, unable to keep the tremor from your voice.

Gojo’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice more serious than you were used to hearing from him. “I’m scared of hurting you. I’m scared of messing this up again. But I’m not going to let fear stop me from being here.”

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time, they weren’t just from fear or pain. There was something else—a quiet hope, fragile and new, but there. You had been so afraid of what might happen, of falling back into the same trap, that you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider the possibility that maybe… just maybe, things could be different.

“But what if it’s too much?” you asked, your voice shaking. “What if it happens again, and I can’t handle it? What if I love you, and it destroys me all over again?”

Gojo’s expression softened, and he took another step closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he spoke. “Then we don’t let it destroy you. I won’t let it.”

You blinked, staring at him, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that things could be different this time. But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

“And what about you?” you asked quietly. “What if I fall for you again… and you don’t feel the same?”

Gojo was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful, and then, to your surprise, he reached up and pulled the blindfold off, revealing his eyes to you. His gaze was intense, piercing, as he looked at you—really looked at you—for what felt like the first time in a long time.

“If you fall for me again,” he said slowly, his voice soft but firm, “I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. There was something so raw, so open in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke. It wasn’t a promise of love, but it was a promise of something real—something honest. He wasn’t running. He wasn’t hiding.

And suddenly, the fear that had been gripping you loosened, just a little.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know if I can risk it again.”

Gojo stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush against your arm. “You don’t have to decide now,” he said softly. “But if you ever do… if you ever feel like that again… I won’t run. I won’t let you go through it alone.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but this time, they were mixed with a strange sense of relief. The love you had once felt for him was gone, but the possibility of something new—something real—was still there. It scared you. It terrified you.

But maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be afraid of it anymore.

You looked up at Gojo, your heart pounding, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m still afraid.”

Gojo smiled gently, his hand lingering on your arm. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’m afraid too.”

And in that moment, standing there with him, you realized that maybe being afraid didn’t have to mean running away. Maybe being afraid meant facing it together, even if you didn’t know what would happen next.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with a quiet determination. “I’ll try not to be afraid.”

Gojo’s smile widened, and for the first time in a long time, it felt genuine. “That’s all I’m asking.”

You didn’t know what would happen from here. You didn’t know if you would ever fall for him again, or if the love you had once felt would return. But for now, it was enough to know that you didn’t have to face it alone.

Gojo tried to keep his distance, but he’s just too extra.

The air was warmer, the breeze softer as spring break arrived, and with it, a sense of relief that classes were over—at least for a little while. You hadn’t been looking forward to the break in any particular way, hoping for a quiet week to yourself, time to sort through everything that had been weighing on your mind. But, as always, things never seemed to go quite the way you planned when Gojo was involved.

It had started with Yuji, his usual excited grin lighting up the room as he bounded over to your group after class, bouncing with the energy of someone who clearly had plans for the week ahead. “Hey! You guys heard about Gojo-sensei’s beach house, right?” he asked, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

You blinked, confused, exchanging a glance with Nobara and Megumi, who looked just as surprised as you felt. A beach house? Gojo never mentioned anything about a beach house.

Nobara crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. “Since when does Gojo have a beach house?”

Yuji beamed. “Since forever, apparently! He told me and Megumi yesterday. Said we should all go. Like, as a group thing. Spring break, you know? Hang out, relax, swim… It’ll be fun!”

Megumi sighed, looking like he was already dreading the trip. “I didn’t agree to this.”

But before anyone else could protest, Gojo strolled into the conversation, sunglasses perched on his head and that ever-present grin plastered across his face. “It’ll be fun,” he said, confirming Yuji’s announcement as if it were already settled. “You all could use a break, don’t you think?”

You watched him, your stomach twisting slightly. He hadn’t spoken to you directly about the trip, hadn’t even hinted at it, but now, as he stood there smiling like everything was already decided, you couldn’t help but wonder why he had invited all of you in the first place.

Was this really about giving everyone a break? Or was it about something else?

Nobara, clearly more interested in the idea than Megumi, shrugged. “I’m in. Beats sitting around doing nothing.”

Yuji clapped his hands together, excited that at least someone shared his enthusiasm. “Great! What about you?” he asked, turning to you with a hopeful grin.

You hesitated. Going to a beach house with the others, with Gojo, wasn’t exactly what you had planned for spring break. It felt too close, too personal, especially after everything that had happened between you and Gojo. But the way Yuji looked at you, his eagerness palpable, made it hard to say no.

Before you could answer, Gojo’s voice cut in, casual but somehow heavier than usual. “Come on, you deserve to relax too.” His words were light, but the way his gaze flickered toward you made it clear that this invitation wasn’t just about a group vacation. He wanted you there. And that realization made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed, forcing a small smile. “I guess I could use a break.”

Yuji practically jumped in excitement, and Nobara smirked, clearly satisfied that the group was coming together. Megumi just sighed in resignation. And Gojo? He didn’t say anything more, but you caught the way his lips curved slightly, like he was pleased you had agreed.

The beach house turned out to be even more impressive than you’d imagined—an expansive, modern villa perched on the edge of the sand, overlooking the crystal-clear water. It was quiet, secluded, and far too luxurious for just a simple group getaway. But, of course, it made sense that Gojo would have something like this, even if it seemed wildly out of place for a spring break with students.

You arrived with the others, your bags slung over your shoulder, taking in the sight of the house with wide eyes. Yuji immediately started talking about all the things he wanted to do—swim, play beach volleyball, explore the area—while Nobara admired the house itself, clearly impressed by Gojo’s taste. Megumi, predictably, looked like he wanted to crawl into a corner and avoid everything.

But you? You couldn’t shake the feeling that this trip wasn’t just about relaxing. It was about something more, something unspoken that lingered between you and Gojo.

He was there, of course, standing near the entrance, his sunglasses now resting on the top of his head, watching as everyone took in the surroundings. His usual grin was in place, but there was something different in his eyes when he glanced at you—something that made your stomach twist in uncertainty.

The day passed in a blur of activity. Yuji and Nobara dragged Megumi down to the beach, convincing him to at least try to have fun, while you stayed closer to the house, content to relax in the shade and enjoy the quiet. Gojo kept his distance for most of the day, busy keeping the others entertained and making sure everything was in order, but every so often, you caught him watching you—his gaze lingering longer than it should, as if he was trying to figure something out.

It wasn’t until later, as the sun began to set, that you found yourself alone with him. The others had retreated inside, tired from the day’s activities, and you had wandered down to the water’s edge, watching the waves roll in, the sky painted in shades of pink and gold.

Gojo approached quietly, his footsteps barely audible on the sand. You felt him before you saw him, his presence always impossible to ignore.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice carrying on the breeze.

You glanced at him, nodding slightly. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

He stood beside you, his hands in his pockets, his gaze focused on the horizon. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the ocean filling the silence between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly peaceful either. There was a tension there, something unspoken, something that had been building since before you’d arrived.

“Why did you invite us here?” you asked finally, your voice quiet but steady.

Gojo hesitated, his usual easy grin faltering for just a second. “You guys needed a break.”

“We needed a break?” You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Or I did?”

Gojo let out a soft chuckle, but it lacked his usual lightness. “Maybe both.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “What is this, Gojo? Why are you doing all of this? Why did you invite me here? What are you trying to figure out?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze still fixed on the water. But you could feel the weight of his thoughts, the way his usual playful demeanor was slipping, revealing something more vulnerable underneath.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it. “I thought… maybe if we got out of the usual routine, it would help. Help me figure out what I’m doing.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Gojo finally looked at you, his eyes serious, the sunglasses forgotten. “I don’t know why I’m doing this. Why I’m trying so hard to keep you close, to keep you here. It’s like… I’m trying to hold onto something I didn’t even realize I wanted until it was too late.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. “Gojo, I—”

“I’m not saying I’ve figured it out,” he cut in, his voice soft but insistent. “I’m just… trying to understand. What this is. What we are now.”

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. You had been so focused on your own fear, your own confusion, that you hadn’t considered what Gojo was feeling. And now, hearing him admit that he didn’t understand it either… it made everything feel even more complicated.

“I don’t know what this is either,” you said softly, your voice barely audible. “But I’m scared, Gojo. I’m scared of getting too close again.”

Gojo’s expression softened, and for a moment, he looked almost… unsure. “I know. And I don’t want to push you into anything. But… if you’re willing to figure it out with me...”

You looked out at the ocean, the waves crashing gently against the shore, and for the first time in a long time, you felt something shift inside you. It wasn’t love, not yet. But it was something. Something real, something worth exploring.

And maybe, just maybe, it was enough.

You nodded slowly, turning back to Gojo. “Okay. Let’s figure it out.”

Gojo smiled, a real, genuine smile, and for a moment, everything felt lighter.

notes: i'm writing a new fluff Gojo x you and ngl i think i ate this one, please wait just a bit! - If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know <3

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie @r0ckst4rjk @minkyungseokie @tw0fvced @f1sheeee

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[wolverigrl]

Request for Hugh story.

The reader gets a little jealous when Hugh has to spend some time with his ex wife and kids, so to show his girlfriend just how much he loves her. Hugh makes her romantic dinner just for them.

Jelousy

Hugh Jackman x reader

!A/N! I hope you like this requested story! <3

Warnings: jealousy, cheesy, nothing more!

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

It had been a year and a half since Hugh and I had started dating. The first year had been incredible - dream-like, really. But things had changed. It started slowly, creeping in like an unwanted shadow. His work, the endless promotion for his new movie, had taken over our lives. We barely saw each other anymore. And when he wasn’t jetting across the globe for press junkets, he was here in New York - spending time with his ex-wife and their kids.

I knew it was important for him to be there for them, to maintain that family bond. And I understood that. I tried to understand it. But lately, it felt like I was always waiting. Waiting for him to come home. Waiting for some kind of sign that I still mattered.

And today? Today was the final straw.

I had seen the photos online—Hugh and Deborra-Lee with their kids, laughing, looking so perfect together. Like nothing had ever changed between them. It wasn’t rational, I knew that. He had been married to her for years, and they shared a lot of history. But no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, the jealousy kept bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over.

So when Hugh finally walked through the door that evening, his face lit up with a tired but warm smile, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Had a good day?" I asked, my tone far too sharp for what was supposed to be a casual question.

He dropped his keys on the counter and looked at me, confused by the edge in my voice. "Yeah... spent the day with the kids. It was nice. What about you?"

"Great." I replied, unable to mask the bitterness. "Saw the pictures. You all looked... happy."

Hugh's brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Of course, we were happy. I was spending time with the kids- "

"And your ex-wife." I cut him off, my arms crossing defensively. "You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?"

He stared at me, his confusion deepening. "Y/n, she's the mother of my kids. We’re not together, you know that. You have nothing to worry about."

"I don’t?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "Because it feels like I’m the last thing on your mind these days. I’m starting to forget what it’s like to even have you around."

Hugh stepped toward me, his voice soft but firm. "That’s not fair, y/n. You know how crazy things have been with the movie, and I’m trying to be there for the kids. It’s complicated."

"Yeah, it is complicated!" I snapped, my frustration boiling over. I could feel the words tumbling out of me, unstoppable now. "I would never ask you to choose between me and them, Hugh, but I’m not asking for much. I just want to feel like I matter too."

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated but trying to stay calm. "You do matter. You know you do."

"Do I?" I shot back, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to stay composed. "Because lately, it feels like I’m just here. Waiting for you to remember I exist!"

Hugh’s expression softened, his frustration giving way to something more vulnerable. "Love, come on... it’s not like that."

But I couldn’t listen anymore. The flood of emotions was too much, and I needed space. "I need to get out of here." I muttered, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.

"Y/n, wait!" Hugh called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I just needed air, space - anything to clear my head. The door clicked shut behind me, and I found myself walking aimlessly through the streets of New York, my emotions swirling in my chest like a storm.

The crisp night air hit my face as I wandered through the city. My mind raced as I replayed the argument over and over. Why had I let it get this far? Why hadn’t I talked to him sooner, before it all exploded like this? I knew he wasn’t intentionally pushing me away, but lately, it felt like I was invisible.

After an hour of walking and stewing in my own thoughts, I realized I needed to head back. I couldn’t avoid this forever. We needed to talk - really talk. And maybe I needed to apologize for being... well, dramatic. I sighed, turning back toward the apartment, my steps slower, more thoughtful.

When I finally reached the door, I took a deep breath, expecting tension. But as I stepped inside, I was met with something completely unexpected.

The lights were dim, and there was soft music playing in the background. I slipped off my shoes and walked towards the kitchen. The smell of something delicious - my favorite dish - wafted through the air. Candles flickered gently on the dining table, which had been set for two. The entire room felt warm and inviting, a strong contrast to the storm that had been brewing between us earlier.

I stood frozen in the corridor, blinking in disbelief. Hugh emerged from the kitchen, his eyes soft and apologetic as he wiped his hands on a towel.

"Hey." he said gently, his voice carrying a tenderness that tugged at my heart. "I, uh... I made dinner. I figured we could use some time, just the two of us."

I stared at him, the earlier frustration slowly melting away. "Hugh... you didn’t have to do all this."

"Yes, I did." he said, stepping closer. His eyes searched mine, and the sincerity in them made my chest tighten. "I’ve been so caught up in everything - work, the kids - that I forgot to make time for us. And that’s not okay. You’re right."

I bit my lip, guilt washing over me. "I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just... I was feeling- "

"I know." he interrupted softly, his hands reaching out to gently hold mine. "And I get it. I should’ve been more present with you. I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter because you do, more than anything."

I swallowed hard, my heart swelling as I looked up at him. The anger, the jealousy - it all felt so small now. He had always been the man who showed up, who cared, even when life got overwhelming. And right now, he was standing here, showing me exactly how much I meant to him.

"I’m sorry." I whispered, my voice trembling as I squeezed his hands.

Hugh shook his head, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles gently. "I’m sorry too. I love you, y/n. I never want you to feel like you’re anything less than my priority."

The weight of his words settled over me, soothing the ache I’d been carrying for days. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension between us dissolve. "I love you too." I said softly, my heart swelling with the truth of it.

He smiled, that familiar, warm smile that made me feel like everything was going to be okay. "So... how about we start over? No more fighting. Just... dinner."

I nodded, smiling despite myself. "Yeah. I’d like that."

We sat down at the table, and the moment was so simple, so intimate. Hugh had made my favorite dish - pasta with that special sauce he always made when we had date nights at home. The food was incredible, but what made it even better was the way we kept stealing glances at each other, the quiet joy in the air as we ate.

By the time we were done, my heart felt lighter. We moved to the couch, and I leaned into him as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I could feel the warmth of his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

"I missed this." I whispered, resting my head against him.

Hugh pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I missed you. I hate that I made you feel like I wasn’t here. I’ll do better, I promise."

I tilted my head up to look at him, my eyes meeting his. The tenderness in his gaze made my heart skip a beat. "You always show up when it matters, Hugh. I just... I need to know you’ll keep doing that."

"I will," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "You’re not an afterthought, Y/N. You’re my home."

Those words wrapped around me, filling the cracks that had formed over the past few weeks. I reached up, cupping his face as I kissed him softly, pouring every bit of love and gratitude I felt into that kiss.

When we pulled away, I couldn’t help but smile. "You really went all out, huh? Cooking, candles... the whole deal."

Hugh grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Well, I figured you deserved a little romance after putting up with me."

I laughed softly, leaning in closer. "I think we both deserved it."

He tilted his head down, kissing the top of mine softly. "I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. I know I’ve been distracted, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere."

My heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me like a promise. I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I know." I whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. "And I love you. I just... needed to hear it."

He smiled, a lazy, boyish grin that made my stomach flutter. "Then I’ll make sure you hear it more often."

He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine, slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world just to kiss me. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was full of everything - love, reassurance, and that deep, quiet connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, our foreheads rested against each other, and I could feel his breath against my lips.

We stayed wrapped up together on the couch, the warmth of his body melting away any lingering tension. His arm was draped protectively around my shoulders, pulling me close, while I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting, grounding. Every time I shifted, he pulled me in just a little tighter, like he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch between us.

"You know." he murmured, his fingers lazily tracing circles on my arm, "I’ve missed this. Just being here with you. No noise, no schedules. Just... us."

I smiled into his chest, feeling the softness of his words settle over me like a warm blanket. "I’ve missed it too. More than I realized."

We sat there for a while longer, the quiet of the apartment settling around us. Hugh shifted slightly, pulling a blanket over us and tucking it in around my shoulders. He kissed my forehead again, lingering as though he couldn’t help himself.

"And you know." he whispered softly, his voice like velvet against the night air, "you’re my favorite part of everything. Of coming home, of my whole day. You’re it."

My heart melted. I snuggled deeper into his embrace, closing my eyes as I felt the warmth of his love surround me. "You’re my favorite too." I whispered back, feeling safe, cherished, and so completely loved.

We stayed that way, wrapped up in each other, letting the world fade away. No more jealousy, no more distance. Just us, together. And in that moment, everything felt perfect - like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.

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[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

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

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

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

Chapter 8 - Last Night | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That’s not—" he croaked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, he let you go.

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

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

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

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

Next part - Chapter 9 xx

[cece693]

Sword Fighting (Nico Di Angelo x Son of Aphrodite)

Summary: You were a likable asshole—everything not associated with Aphrodite. You were devilishly handsome but with a temper of Zeus himself. It was as if you were a byproduct of Aphrodite and Ares. Unsurprisingly, you catch the eyes of many, but more so, the son of Hades, Nico Di Angelo.

tags: no specific timeline/book, oblivious idiots in love, Nico isn't dating Will, you did have something with the son of Apollo, dancing around feelings

Nico watched from the shadows, eyes fixed on the training field where you and Percy Jackson were locked in a heated sparring match. Each movement you made was precise, and confident—like you were born with a sword in your hand. The sunlight caught the sharp angles of your face, highlighting the look of sheer determination in your eyes as you deflected Percy’s swing with a graceful sidestep.

Nico tried to look away. He knew he should, but something kept his gaze glued to you. Perhaps it was the influence of Aphrodite in your veins, that inherent allure that seemed to draw in everyone around you, making them wish they could be closer, even when they knew you could be merciless. But deep down, Nico knew it wasn’t just that. He had felt the allure of others before, including Percy, but what he felt now was different. It was stronger.

You were unlike anyone he’d met at camp. A likable asshole, some called you, a paradox that intrigued him. While most children of Aphrodite were known for their beauty and charm, you were the polar opposite. Devilishly handsome, yes, but with a temper that could rival even Zeus himself. It was as if the gods had mixed the charms of your mother with the fierce spirit of Ares, creating something dangerously compelling. And that danger was precisely what caught Nico’s attention.

Your sword collided with Percy’s in a shower of sparks, and a grin spread across your face. The thrill of the fight, the intensity of it—those things stirred something inside you that Nico could almost feel from where he stood. It was part of what made you so maddeningly attractive. While others found themselves drawn to you for your looks or your charisma, Nico was captivated by that spark, that raw, untamed energy you seemed to possess.

And it frustrated him.

Nico wasn’t one to get swept up in emotions, especially not for someone so openly infuriating. You were arrogant, quick-tempered, and brimming with an insufferable confidence. Yet, there you were, invading his every thought. He wanted to hate you, to dismiss you as just another self-absorbed child of Aphrodite. But every time he watched you—whether you were laughing with friends, glaring at someone who had crossed you, or fighting as you were now—he felt his resolve crumble a little more.

Percy swung his sword in a wide arc, but you were faster, ducking under it and stepping to the side. “You’re getting sloppy, Jackson!” you teased, voice tinged with that self-assured arrogance Nico had grown used to hearing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Percy grumbled, adjusting his stance. “Just you wait.”

You turned your head slightly, as if sensing Nico’s gaze on you. For a split second, your eyes met his, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you. Nico’s heart skipped a beat. Then, just as quickly, you turned back to Percy, deflecting another attack with a casual flick of your wrist.

“You’re staring again, Di Angelo.” A familiar voice came from behind him. Not bothering to turn, Nico felt Will Solance come and stand next to him, probably wearing a knowing smirk. He felt his cheeks burning, “Shut up, Solace.”

No heat was behind his words; after all, it seemed foolish to argue with one of his only friends. Will chuckled, glancing past Nico to where you continued to spar with Percy. “He has that effect on people, you know.” he remarked with a knowing smile.

Nico’s jaw tightened, an unexpected pang of jealousy curling in his chest. He knew Will meant nothing by it, but the reminder stirred something inside him, something dark and possessive. You and Will had a brief romance once, something that had lasted only a few months before you both decided to part ways amicably. But despite the clean break, the memory of your closeness with Will gnawed at Nico. He hated that it did. The two of you had managed to stay friends, and he couldn’t deny that Will still harbored a certain fondness for you—one that Nico wasn’t sure he could compete with.

“Right,” Nico muttered, eyes narrowing as he watched you effortlessly parry another of Percy’s attacks. “He seems to have that effect on everyone.”

Will raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Nico. “Jealous, are we?”

Nico shot him a glare. “No.” he lied, a little too quickly. He hated how transparent he could be sometimes, especially around Will, who knew him too well for comfort.

Will sighed, his smile softening. “Look, I get it. He’s…hard to ignore.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But you should know, our thing was just a fling. We’re friends now, and he’s—”

“Don’t,” Nico cut in sharply, his voice tight. “I don’t need you to explain anything.”

"But—" Will tried to speak, however, Nico had already disappeared. Huffing in frustration, the son of Apollo continued watching as you easily beat Percy, sword hovering dangerously under his chin. When would those two oblivious idiots realize they're pinning for one another?

[tragedy-of-commons]

"are you crying?" + blade + platonic/familial (found family father figure blade with teen!reader) please :3

"Are you crying?"

Oh no.

Blade's question - if you can even call it that, considering he says everything in that deadpan tone of his - hangs in the air for a stagnant minute and then some.

Maybe if you don't make a peep, don't move a muscle, he'll give up and go back to minding his own business. It's not too far-fetched! Despite how savage and brutal he is in combat, he's surprisingly calm (and daresay gentle at times). Maybe he'll read the room, absorbing your aura wordlessly like Kafka can.

He grunts your name, an edge present that wasn't there before.

...or maybe not.

You break your silence, whirling around to face him, plastering the hugest, most saccharine smile on your face. It doesn't matter if there are tears rolling down your cheeks and a bit of snot sticking to your upper lip (ew). You have to try to get him off your back before something worse happens.

"Crying? I'm not doing that, no, never. You see, Firefly was in here chopping onions earlier," you chirp, rattling off lies like it's your second nature. Well, it is, that's why you got roped into joining this questionable team in the first place - but that's neither here nor there!

Blade looks at you.

You look at Blade.

Deflating and dropping the act, you swallow, trying to retain some of your cheery tone while you sniffle. "Okay, you win. I just... it's been a rough day, I'm sure you know how it is."

If there's one thing you know about your ancient colleague, it's that he can't make small talk for the life of him. You don't think it's his fault, really. Silver Wolf let it slip that he's lost pieces of himself to mara over the years - some days he can't hold functionality beyond a weapon without Kafka's pacifying mind tricks.

So, trying to keep up casual conversation with Blade is akin to yapping at a brick wall. You've gotten used to it, sure, but the way he's looking at you right now - with a pinched brow and somewhat of a snarl - is starting to unnerve you.

Does crying piss him off? You understand it's not a pleasant thing to deal with (not that you expect him to). But seeing him this angry outside of battle makes you want to run and drop off the grid for the rest of your life, abandoning your very important Stellaron Hunter duties and Blade in the process.

You swallow, wiping your face with your sleeve. You can't seem to stop miffing him, because he stalks over to you completely in two strides while you freeze up in muted terror.

Is he going to execute you?! Has he decided to circumvent Elio's rules just to shut you up? Is your pathetic sniveling really going to be your undoing? Will the others have to scrape your remains off the walls and floor, your life forever immortalized as a reminder to keep the waterworks under contro--

He all but shoves something into your limp hand, closing your fingers around it a little too tenderly before sidestepping you like he's been scalded by boiling hot water.

It's soft, and you eventually realize it's a handkerchief. It's the darkest navy can pass without actually being black, embroidered with neat red stitching and obviously made with love. You don't know why he even has something like this - it's not like he ever cries - but you let the train of thought go in favor of soothing your frayed nerves.

You don't think twice before bringing the cloth to your face and wiping the remnants of your sadness away, trying to find your words in the process. Your coworker is now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you, all traces of perceived anger gone. The foot or so between you and Blade isn't a wide berth, but it's still too far.

"Oh," you manage dumbly, now sporting a considerably drier nose.

Unimpressed, he replies. "I know."

"What?"

Okay, you sense his frustration this time. Blade sighs and wrenches his head in your direction for just a moment, exasperated and tense. "I know... how it is. Like you said."

You tighten your grip on the handkerchief wadded up in your hand. It's strange to hear him converse with you willingly, let alone try to comfort you (at least, you think that's what he's doing). Even so, his admission strikes a certain chord in your heart that's dusty from neglect. You sneak a glance at his figure, and when you meet eyes of burning coal, he returns to glowering at the wall.

Everyone on this ship has been through so much, especially him. You're certain that Blade does know what it's like to have some shitty days; he's probably had thousands of them.

You shrug. "Yeah... um, I figured. Nothing much I can do about it though. Bad stuff happens to everybody."

A lengthy pause stretches on until Blade takes up the mantle.

"You can't do anything about it," he repeats, statement curtailing into a dangerous drawl, "...but what about someone like me?"

Someone like him. Dread and something like fondness washes over you at the implication. The type of person he is - an eponymous sword and scabbard that slaughters on command - cannot fix the type of anguish you're dealing with. He's offering to help in the best way he knows how, you realize slowly.

The fact that he's even offering to shed blood in your name is a bit scary - not just because murder is wrong or whatever, but because he's actively trying to care about you.

No one's ever done that before.

"Alright, who are you and what have you done with Blade?" you joke, grinning genuinely this time, even if lingering moisture clings to your lashes. "Kidding. As nice as the offer is, I don't think your, um, solution... will help either."

You don't think it matters anymore - you're already starting to forget what got you so down in the first place. Perhaps you haven't given him enough credit, because by the way Blade's posture relaxes, he also notices this. No murder necessary tonight.

"Stand tall," he commands, pointedly not meeting your eyes as he pats your head. Before you have any time to process that, he disappears quickly down the adjoining hallway, likely slinking off to shred some training dummies.

You fly into a double-take, jaw practically on the floor.

Seems like you'll have to interrogate the old man whenever you get a chance to wash and return his handkerchief.

As you open up your messages app to text Silver Wolf all the details (with a concerning amount of stickers), your day doesn't seem so rough anymore.

"Thanks, Bladie," you whisper secretly to no one but yourself.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @https-sourlimes

a/n: i finally got it done! so psyched to work on another platonic/familial prompt and it's BLADE i'm so sick. thank you for this request! :D

event post here

[disciplined-cornfed]

Rome wasn't built in a day

Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.

What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.

Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.

But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.

One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.

“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”

Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”

Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”

Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.

Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me”—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.

As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”

He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real, he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.

The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.

He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.

From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.

It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.

Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.

One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.

Damn, I look good.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.

The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.

One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.

His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”

Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”

Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”

Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.

He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.

“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”

They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.

Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”

Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”

Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.

“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."

Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”

Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."

WANNA BECOME A GUIDO FOR REAL? Try this subliminal:

Guido Subliminal (Accent, Mindset, Discipline, Extreme Confidence)

[pdriesta]

"you don't need no air, you can just breathe me"

pairings — judexblack!girl

genre —fluff, celebrity romance, music video shoot

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 8k

summary — under the city lights of osaka, y/n's music video shoot transforms into a canvas for her profound, all-encompassing love for jude. from playful karaoke sessions to tender kisses, their chemistry is palpable. as they document their romance on camera, they're prepared to take their love public, revealing to the world just how deeply they’re in love.

an — when i tell you i'm obsessed with this song. i knew i had to write about it. this fic is based on the music video of tyla's, breathe me. i would suggest watching to get the vibes of the fic.

masterlist

it all started with a chance meeting—her cousin, one of jude’s teammates, had invited her to madrid for a weekend getaway, thinking she needed a break from the chaos of her rising fame. she had just finished her second world tour, and her voice was everywhere, on every radio, every playlist, but her heart? her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the pressures of being in the spotlight, by always being seen but never really understood.

it was supposed to be just a casual dinner after one of jude’s matches, nothing serious. but from the moment they locked eyes, something clicked. she remembered how shy he had been at first, his usual confidence seeming to falter as he stumbled over his words when they were introduced. she had laughed—softly, the kind of laugh that made his heart race. and from that night on, they were inseparable. not in the obvious, bold way. it was in the quiet moments, the late-night calls when they’d stay up talking about everything and nothing. about music, football, life, dreams. he’d send her snippets of songs he’d found, songs that reminded him of her, and she’d stay on the phone with him while he described in detail the feeling of scoring a goal in front of thousands of fans.

their connection grew over time, a slow burn of longing, affection, and undeniable chemistry. he’d fly out to see her whenever he had a break in his schedule, slipping into her life like he’d always been there—helping her pick out studio outfits, sitting quietly in the corner while she recorded, offering encouragement when she was frustrated. she never had to explain anything to him. jude just understood her in ways no one else ever had.

they made long distance work in a way that felt easy. it wasn’t perfect; there were challenges, but they both cared enough to try. jude made her laugh in moments where she felt like breaking down from the pressure, and she gave him a sense of peace, a place to escape the noise of his own fame. no one really knew about them—whispers, sure, but nothing confirmed. she liked it that way, liked having something that was just theirs. no media frenzy, no cameras in their faces, just… them.

and then one day, after months of dancing around it, jude had asked her to be his girlfriend. they were in london, staying at a little hotel she loved for its vintage charm, and he had looked so nervous. she remembered the way his hands had fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie, the way he had stared at her for a beat too long before finally blurting it out. “i want to be with you… properly. no more ‘friends’ thing. just… us.”

she had smiled, that soft, secret smile she saved just for him, and said yes. and from that moment, they were it for each other.

it had been weeks since they’d last seen each other in person—weeks filled with endless phone calls, facetime sessions, and voice notes, but it wasn’t the same. she had just wrapped up her album launch in her home city, a huge milestone that marked her rise to superstardom. the long flight straight from the launch party to madrid felt like a blur, but she couldn’t care less. she was finally going to see jude.

the moment she stepped through the door of jude’s house, the smell of she smelt dinner from the kitchen and smiled to herself, dropping her bags by the entrance and heading towards the source. there he was, standing by the stove, his back to her as he stirred a pot of something on the burner. she stood there for a second, just watching him, the domesticity of it all filling her chest with warmth. how did she get so lucky?

“i missed you,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

jude turned around immediately, his eyes lighting up the second he saw her. without a word, he crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight it almost took her breath away.

“you’re here,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “god, i missed you so much.”

she clung to him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against her chest. “missed you too. so much.”

they stood like that for a moment, just holding each other, the rest of the world fading into the background. no paparazzi, no cameras, no pressure. just them. finally, jude pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her waist as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“you didn’t have to fly out so soon,” he said, his thumb brushing over her hip. “you just finished your album launch—you must be exhausted.”

“and miss out on cooking for my hard-working boyfriend?” she teased, her smile widening. “you need a proper meal after all that training. besides, i wanted to be here with you.”

he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“i know,” she said with a playful grin. “now, let me help. what are you making?”

“it was supposed to be a surprise,” jude admitted, a sheepish look crossing his face. “but, uh… you know i can’t cook. i need your help with the rice.”

she laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the stove, taking over the rice. it didn’t take long before they fell into an easy rhythm—her stirring the pot, him chopping vegetables at the counter. they chatted about everything and nothing, catching up on all the little details they hadn’t been able to share over the phone. it felt natural, comfortable. like home.

as they cooked, jude kept stealing glances at her, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. god, he’d missed her. missed her laugh, missed her voice, missed the way she made everything feel so easy.

“so,” he started, watching her as she plated the food, “congratulations on finishing the album.”

she turned to him, her face lighting up. “thank you. it still doesn’t feel real, you know? like, after all these months… it’s finally done.”

“i’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “i know how much work you put into it.”

she felt her heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. “you helped me more than you know,” she admitted. “all those late-night calls when i was stressed out… you were there through it all.”

“of course i was. i’ll always pick up no matter the time, ” jude said, stepping closer to her. “i wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

there was a beat of silence as they stood there, the weight of their shared experiences hanging in the air. it had been a long road—balancing their hectic schedules, making long-distance work, supporting each other through the highs and lows. but somehow, they’d made it. they were stronger because of it.

as they sat down at the table, jude watched her, something unreadable in his eyes. she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“what?” she asked, her voice teasing.

he grinned, leaning back in his chair. “i have a surprise for you.”

“another one?” she laughed, already feeling spoiled just by being with him.

“yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “i know how much you’ve been wanting to take a break, and, well… i thought now would be a good time.”

she tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “okay, go on.”

“we’re going to japan,” jude blurted out, unable to contain his excitement any longer.

her eyes widened, her fork clattering against her plate as she stared at him in disbelief. “wait, what?”

“i booked us a trip,” he continued, his grin now fully stretching across his face. “to celebrate your album launch. you’ve been talking about japan forever, so i thought… why not?”

she blinked, her heart racing as she processed his words. “japan? like… actually?”

he nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “yep. we leave in two days.”

without thinking, she launched herself across the table and into his arms, her excitement bursting out of her in a flurry of kisses. “jude, you didn’t!”

he laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her close. “i did. anything for you.”

she pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shining with tears of joy. “i can’t believe this. i’ve always wanted to go…”

“i know,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “and now we get to go together.”

she kissed him again, her lips lingering against his as she whispered, “thank you.”

“you deserve it,” jude murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “all of it. and now, we get to have some time for just us.”

they stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, the excitement of the trip already buzzing between them. finally, she pulled back, a wide grin still plastered on her face.

“okay, i need to pack,” she said, already getting up from the table.

“oh no, you don’t,” jude said, standing up and pulling her back into his arms. “you’re staying right here”

she laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leaned into him. “you’re terrible.”

“you love it,” he teased, kissing her softly. “besides, we’ve got two days. plenty of time to pack later.”

she sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling the urge to get everything ready. but as his lips brushed against her neck, his hands slipping under her shirt, she decided packing could wait a little longer.

“fine,” she murmured, her voice breathless, “but only because you’re distracting me.”

“good,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck, “that’s the plan.”

she could still feel the lingering warmth of jude’s embrace from earlier as they sat on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases. after dinner, they hadn’t even bothered finishing, too caught up in the excitement of their upcoming trip to japan. it was something they’d talked about for months—her dream destination, a place she’d always wanted to visit for the culture, the food, the fashion, and now, the two of them would get to explore it together.

she was still buzzing from the excitement, barely able to focus on packing as she sat across from him now, folding clothes with a distracted smile on her face.

"japan, jude!" she grinned, still giddy from his surprise. "i can't believe you did this."

he chuckled, watching her with that soft, adoring look that always made her heart skip a beat. “how could i not? you’ve been talking about it forever.”

“but still…” she leaned forward, her hands cupping his face. “thank you.”

his eyes softened, and he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. “anything for you.”

they stayed like that for a moment, their foreheads resting together, their breaths syncing. the world outside felt distant, irrelevant compared to the warmth they shared in that little bedroom. he made everything feel so easy, so right. she didn’t want to hide that anymore.

“jude,” she started, her voice a little quieter now, “i’ve been thinking…”

he pulled back slightly, searching her eyes, sensing the shift in her tone. “what’s on your mind?”

she hesitated for a second, gathering her thoughts. “i don’t want to hide us anymore.”

his brow furrowed, surprise flashing in his eyes as he stilled, hands lightly resting on her hips. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” she bit her lip, her heart pounding. “i’m tired of pretending like we’re just friends. everyone already suspects something, and i don’t want to keep this a secret. i want the world to know about us. i want to be with you—fully. no more hiding.”

he studied her for a long moment, his expression softening, concern flickering in his gaze. “are you sure? you don’t have to do this because of pressure or anything. i’m okay with how things are, as long as you’re comfortable.”

her heart melted at his words, at the way he always put her first. she smiled, her hand sliding down to rest on his chest. “i know you are. but i’ve thought about it, and i’m ready. besides…” her eyes twinkled with mischief, “i want you to be in my next music video.”

his face lit up, his earlier concern dissolving into excitement. “wait, what? seriously? i can finally be in one of your videos?”

“yep,” she grinned, loving the way his excitement bubbled up, the way he could never hide how happy he was. “i want you in the next one.”

“which song?” he asked, already running through ideas in his mind.

“breathe me,” she said, her voice soft and full of meaning.

his expression changed in an instant, turning tender and sentimental. “that’s my favorite,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “you know how much that song means to me.”

before she could respond, jude picked her up and gently tossed her on the bed, his arms wrapping around her as he buried his face in her neck, peppering her skin with kisses that sent a thrill through her body. “my beautiful, talented girlfriend,” he whispered against her skin, his voice warm and full of pride, “and now the whole world will know she’s mine.”

she laughed, trying to wiggle out from under him, her heart swelling with affection. “you’re so possessive.”

“you love it,” he teased, his lips lingering at the sensitive spot just below her ear, making her toes curl.

“maybe i do,” she admitted, her fingers threading through his soft curls, tugging lightly in a way she knew he loved. his breath hitched against her neck, and she felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect she had on him.

they stayed like that, tangled in each other, their suitcases long forgotten on the floor. jude’s hands roamed her sides, his touch sending warmth through her with every brush of his fingers. his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. she sighed into him, her body relaxing under the weight of his love, feeling the world around them blur into nothingness.

“jude,” she whispered, her voice soft, breathy. “what about packing?”

he grinned against her skin, his breath warm as he kissed the spot just below her ear again, his favorite spot. “forget it. packing can wait.”

she smiled, knowing full well they’d regret it later when they were rushing to pack last minute. but right now? none of it mattered. all that mattered was him—the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world, the way he looked at her like she was everything he had ever wanted.

he kissed her again, this time on the lips, slow and deep, his hand cupping her jaw as he tilted her head back slightly. she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space between them. she could feel his heartbeat against her chest, steady and strong, grounding her in the moment.

“i love you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice soft, full of sincerity. “so much.”

her heart swelled, the words wrapping around her like a blanket of warmth. she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her thumb tracing his jaw. “i love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

he smiled, leaning down to kiss her again, and she knew—no matter what, they’d be okay. they’d face the world together, hand in hand, no more hiding, no more pretending.

just them. together.

the next two days blurred together in a mix of tangled sheets, stolen kisses, and whispered confessions. it was as if the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the two of them, making up for lost time. they hadn’t been apart for that long, but being in each other’s arms again felt like they were rediscovering something they’d been craving for weeks.

y/n spent her time meticulously double-checking packages, ensuring everything they needed for the trip to japan was in order, while jude would laugh at how organized she was, teasing her every time she opened her meticulously crafted itinerary.

“it’s been my dream forever,” she’d say, her eyes bright with excitement, “and you made it happen. my baby made it happen.”

he couldn’t help but smile at the pride and joy in her voice. she had been riding a high since the moment they got back together—he loved seeing her like this, full of light, full of excitement. the exhaustion from her long flight seemed to disappear in the wake of her adrenaline-fueled happiness.

the night before their flight, she could barely sleep. her mind was too busy buzzing with thoughts of their upcoming adventure, her excitement bubbling over to the point where she couldn’t contain it. just before dawn, she woke jude up by straddling him in bed, her knees on either side of him as she bounced excitedly.

“jude, wake up!” she whispered loudly, her hands on his chest, her grin wide.

he groaned, still half-asleep, but when he cracked open one eye and saw the look on her face, he couldn’t help but laugh. “what time is it?” his voice was groggy, heavy with sleep.

“time to go to japan!” she beamed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “come on, get up! we have to get ready.”

he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her firmly in place, even as she squirmed on top of him. “you’re too energetic for this early,” he mumbled, but the smile on his face betrayed his words.

“come on, jude,” she giggled, leaning down further until her face was inches from his. “aren’t you excited?”

“i’d be more excited if i got a few more hours of sleep,” he teased, but when she pouted at him, he gave in, lifting his head to kiss her gently. “fine, fine. i’m up.”

they got ready in their sweatsuits, her braids knotted on the top her head, his curls wild and unruly, both looking far too casual for the excitement of the adventure ahead. they skipped breakfast, their — mainyly y/n’s — nerves too high for eating, and after a short ride to the airport and a whirlwind of travel logistics, they were on their way.

the first few days in japan felt like a dream.

jude watched her, amazed, as she lit up at every turn, her eyes wide with wonder, soaking in every detail of the places they visited. they wandered through bustling markets, she dragged him through every boutique she could find, and he snapped photos of her at every chance he got. she had insisted on buying a digital camera for the trip, wanting to capture every moment, every memory, and it hadn’t left his hands since.

“stop,” she laughed, playfully swatting at him as he pointed the camera at her for the hundredth time, snapping a candid shot of her mid-laugh.

“never,” he grinned, lowering the camera just slightly to catch her eyes. “you’re too beautiful not to capture.”

her cheeks flushed, a smile tugging at her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes. “you’re too much sometimes.”

they walked hand-in-hand through the streets of tokyo, exploring temples, visiting art galleries, and trying every food stall they could find. one evening, as the sun set over the skyline, they found themselves in a quiet park, surrounded by cherry blossom trees in full bloom. the petals fell like soft pink snowflakes, covering the ground in a delicate blanket, and she stood in the middle of it all, spinning slowly, her face lifted toward the sky, eyes closed as she let the moment wash over her.

jude, as usual, couldn’t help but snap a picture.

“you’re obsessed,” she teased when she caught him, her voice light with affection.

“can you blame me?” he said, walking over to her and pulling her into his arms. he kissed her gently, the soft petals falling around them like confetti.

their days were full of exploration, but the nights were intimate, a contrast to the busy city around them. they’d return to their hotel, collapsing onto the bed in fits of laughter or quiet exhaustion, and he’d hold her close, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw.

one night, after a long day of sightseeing, they returned to their room, y/n still riding high on the joy of everything they’d seen. she was bouncing around the room, too excited to wind down.

“you’re like a kid on christmas,” jude said with a laugh, watching her flit around.

“i can’t help it!” she grinned, “everything here is just so perfect. i don’t want it to end.”

“well, we’ve still got a few days,” he said, walking over and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

she let out a soft hum, leaning back against his chest, tilting her head to the side to give him better access as he kissed her neck. “we should go to the baths tomorrow,” she said softly, her voice almost dreamy. “it would be so relaxing…”

“whatever you want,” jude murmured against her skin, his hands running up and down her sides, sending a shiver through her.

her breathing hitched slightly, her body responding to his touch. she turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss. their movements were languid, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.

they made love slowly that night, the city lights casting a soft glow through the windows, illuminating the room in shades of gold and pink. every touch, every kiss felt more meaningful, more intense, like they were imprinting the memory of this trip into each other’s skin.

afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, her head resting on his chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her back.

“i’m so happy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “this trip, everything… it’s all perfect.”

he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i’m glad. you deserve this.”

they drifted off to sleep like that, wrapped in each other, the weight of the world feeling light and far away.

the next morning, she woke up before him, as usual. the sunlight filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his face. he looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. she watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with love for this boy who had made all her dreams come true.

unable to resist, she straddled him again, just like she had done before their flight, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw.

“wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly.

he groaned, blinking his eyes open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he realized what was happening. “again?” he teased, his hands instinctively settling on her hips.

“can’t help it,” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him again, her heart light with the joy of knowing they had so much more time to explore, to make memories, to just be together.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered. just them, their love, and the promise of more adventures to come.

jude burst through the door of the karaoke parlour with a grin so wide it practically lit up the room. y/n was perched on his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck, her laughter echoing in the small space as he carried her inside effortlessly. she had tried to walk, but jude had insisted, saying something about conserving her energy for the important things—like singing.

"i'm perfectly capable of walking, you know," she teased, resting her chin on his shoulder as her fingers played with the collar of his hoodie.

"oh, i know," jude replied, flashing her a wink in the mirror as they passed by. "but where’s the fun in that? besides, i gotta keep my girl close."

her heart fluttered at the casual way he said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. and to him, it probably was. they had been inseparable since landing in japan, and with every passing hour, he found more ways to remind her just how much he adored her.

"we're supposed to be shooting a music video, not messing around," she said, her voice half-scolding but filled with warmth as she tightened her grip on him.

"who says we can’t do both?" he chuckled, adjusting her on his back as he carried her further inside, the neon lights reflecting off the polished floors. "besides, you look cute up there. the cameras will love it."

she rolled her eyes playfully, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. jude always knew how to make her feel like she was the center of his universe, even in the middle of all the chaos.

they reached the private karaoke room, and her manager, waiting by the doorway, shook his head with an amused smile. "you two look ready. just be yourselves, have fun, and don’t worry about the cameras. this is the first scene, so let’s make it a good one."

"no problem," jude responded, setting y/n down gently. she slid off his back, her feet touching the ground with a light thud, but he didn’t let go of her. instead, his hand immediately found its place on her waist, fingers brushing the fabric of her shirt

“you ready?” he asked, his eyes full of excitement.

she smiled up at him, feeling the electric buzz of the moment. “always.”

and with that, they stepped inside the cozy karaoke room, neon lights casting a soft, colorful glow over everything. jude, ever the gentleman, let her lead the way before pulling her back into him, wrapping his arms around her from behind as they took in the vibe of the place.

the energy in the karaoke bar shifted as the lights dimmed further, casting a neon glow across the small space. the hum of excitement lingered in the air, and y/n felt her heart race in time with the music that was about to fill the room. this wasn’t just another part of the music video shoot—it was a reflection of them. and in a place like this, with jude by her side, the lines between acting and reality blurred effortlessly.

“okay, just be yourselves, have fun, and let it feel natural,” her manager reminded them with a smile before leaving them to their own devices.

as soon as the door closed, jude grabbed one of the microphones, his signature mischievous grin already in place. he was a ball of playful energy, and y/n couldn’t help but match his excitement. he tugged her toward the couch, pulling her onto his lap before she could even protest.

“jude!” she laughed, settling into him, her back pressed against his firm chest as his arms wrapped around her waist possessively.

“what?” he raised his brows innocently, the mic still in hand. “i’m just getting comfortable.” his fingers gently traced patterns along the curve of her waist, his warmth radiating into her skin even through the fabric of her clothes.

she rolled her eyes, half-heartedly swatting his chest. “you’re going to be a distraction.”

“that’s the plan, baby.” he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. “besides, i know your song better than you do. someone has to carry this performance.”

y/n opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the familiar beat of her song filled the room, and jude jumped right into the first verse, completely stealing the moment. his voice was loud and exaggeratedly dramatic, deliberately off-key just to make her laugh. and it worked.

she tried to hold it in, but his enthusiasm was too infectious, and she burst out laughing, her body shaking against him as she grabbed for the mic. “jude, give me that! it’s my song!”

but he held the mic just out of reach, his grin widening. “oh, you mean our song?” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before continuing to belt out the lyrics like he was performing a sold-out concert. “i’m doing you a favor, really. don’t want you to get tired singing the whole thing.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, settling back into his embrace as he sang the first verse, but when the chorus hit, she grabbed the mic back and joined in, their voices blending in a mix of playful harmony. jude’s offbeat delivery was charming, the kind of over-the-top ridiculousness that only he could pull off, while her smooth vocals carried the melody.

they were completely in sync, leaning into each other, both singing along to her words, their bodies touching in subtle but intimate ways. jude’s hand rested low on her hip, his thumb tracing small circles that sent warmth through her body. her fingers absentmindedly played with the curls at the nape of his neck as she sang, feeling the familiar comfort of his touch, the way his presence always seemed to calm her nerves.

as the lyrics flashed on the screen, jude continued to tease, taking over the mic every chance he got, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered the words, his voice sending a thrill through her.

“i know you love it when i sing your songs, baby,” he murmured between verses, his breath warm against her skin. “can’t help myself.”

she shook her head, her smile softening as she glanced back at him. “you’re impossible.”

“you love it,” he shot back, his voice low, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

maybe she did. his energy was intoxicating, pulling her into his orbit without even trying. she turned slightly in his lap, her hands finding his chest as they both continued to sing, the playful atmosphere morphing into something more charged, more intimate.

jude’s fingers played at the hem of her shirt, his touches light and teasing, sending jolts of warmth through her body with every brush of his fingertips. the lyrics of her song spilled from his lips, but there was something about the way he sang them that made her heart race.

“you’re making this hard to focus,” she whispered, her voice soft and laced with affection as she leaned closer, her lips hovering near his.

he smirked, his hand sliding up to cup her face gently. “maybe i’m just giving you some inspiration.”

before she could respond, he pulled her closer, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else—the cameras, the crew outside, even the song playing in the background.

she deepened the kiss, her fingers curling into his shirt as she let herself get lost in him, in the way his hands felt on her skin, the way his lips moved against hers. it was the kind of kiss that made her feel like they were the only two people in the world, and she had to remind herself that they were supposed to be filming a music video, not getting completely caught up in each other.

when they finally pulled away, breathless, jude’s forehead rested against hers, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “see? told you i’d make it memorable.”

she bit her lip, fighting the smile that threatened to take over. “you always do.”

the second verse started, and y/n picked up the mic again, this time determined to actually sing her own song. she sang the words softly, her voice steady, and as she did, she could feel jude’s eyes on her, watching her with that soft, adoring gaze that always made her heart skip a beat. he didn’t need to say anything—his touch, his closeness, and the way he looked at her said everything.

when the chorus came back around, he joined in again, this time matching her tone more seriously, their voices intertwining perfectly. he pulled her even closer, his hand resting low on her hip, grounding her in a way that made her feel like nothing else mattered but the two of them.

they were wrapped up in each other, the music flowing around them, their voices blending together like they had been doing this forever. and in a way, they had. this wasn’t just for the cameras—this was them, this was real, and it felt perfect.

by the time the bridge came around, jude was back to being playful, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered the lyrics along with her, his hands exploring the curves of her body in a way that was subtle enough to stay out of the shot but still made her heart race.

as the final notes of the song played out, y/n turned to face him fully, her knees on either side of his legs, her hands resting on his shoulders as she smiled down at him, her chest still rising and falling with the remnants of their playful duet.

“you’re the worst,” she teased, though her voice was filled with affection.

he grinned up at her, his hands resting on her hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles into her skin. “the worst, huh? i thought i was your muse.”

“you are,” she admitted softly, leaning in to kiss him quickly, her lips barely grazing his. “but that doesn’t mean you get to steal my spotlight.”

he chuckled, pulling her closer so that her forehead pressed against his. “you’ll always have the spotlight, baby. i’m just here to support you.”

they stayed like that for a moment, the intimacy between them palpable as the world outside their little bubble felt distant and unimportant.

the music video crew could’ve been filming for hours, but y/n barely noticed. with jude by her side, everything felt like a dream—a perfect blend of laughter, music, and playful touches. every time she sang a verse, he’d find some way to distract her, whether by stealing the mic or trailing kisses along her jawline.

and when he wasn’t singing, he was watching her, his eyes never leaving her as she sang the words she had written, words that felt all the more special because he was there, right beside her.

the streets of osaka buzzed with life, the vibrant energy of the city wrapping around them like a warm embrace. jude and y/n strolled hand in hand, their fingers intertwined as they navigated through the crowd. the neon lights from the shops and street vendors painted everything in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting a soft glow over them as they walked.

jude’s arm draped protectively around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close. every so often, he’d lean down and press a quick, affectionate kiss to her temple, his lips brushing her skin with a tender warmth. y/n’s head rested against his shoulder, her smile bright and carefree as they moved together through the bustling streets.

“this place is incredible,” y/n said, her voice filled with excitement as she took in the sights and sounds of osaka. she reached up to gently squeeze jude’s hand, her eyes sparkling with joy. “i’m so glad we’re here.”

“me too, baby,” jude replied, his tone soft and affectionate. “i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, especially not without you.”

he guided her around a particularly crowded corner, the arm he sling over your shoulder guiding you, his touch firm but loving. whenever they encountered a bump or a tricky step, jude was quick to steady her, his concern evident as he made sure she was safe and comfortable.

“watch your step here,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and care as he helped her over a small uneven patch in the pavement. his hand lingered on her waist for a moment longer than necessary, his touch a reassuring presence.

y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the way he always seemed to anticipate her needs. “i’m not going to trip, you know. but thanks for looking out for me.”

“always,” jude said, his smile warm and genuine. he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close and resting his chin on top of her head. “besides, i like having you this close. makes me feel like i’m doing something right.”

they continued their leisurely stroll, moving past street vendors selling everything from colorful trinkets to delicious-smelling street food. jude’s protective nature was evident as he scanned the surroundings, making sure no one intruded on their personal space. every now and then, he’d glance down at y/n, his gaze soft and full of affection.

as they walked, jude playfully lifted y/n off her feet, spinning her around in a circle before setting her back down gently. her laughter rang out, a clear, melodic sound that made jude’s heart skip a beat.

“jude, stop! you’re making me dizzy!” y/n laughed, trying to regain her balance as she looked up at him with a playful grin.

“just making sure you’re having fun,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and intimate.

“i am,” she said, leaning into him as he wrapped his arms around her again, their bodies pressed close together. “i’ve never had so much fun just walking around.”

they wandered into a quaint little alleyway, where the atmosphere felt more intimate and personal. the soft glow of paper lanterns hung above them, casting a warm, golden light. jude and y/n continued to walk, their bodies perfectly in sync, their shared smiles and stolen glances making every moment feel special.

at one point, y/n stopped to admire a small, handcrafted item at a street stall. jude watched her with a loving gaze, his hands tucked into his pockets as he observed her fascination with the delicate piece. he stepped closer, his presence a comforting shield as he stood beside her.

“you should get it,” jude suggested, his voice low and gentle. “it’ll be a nice memento from our trip.”

“you think so?” y/n asked, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“definitely,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “anything that makes you smile is worth it.”

the vendor handed y/n the item with a warm smile, and jude watched as her face lit up with happiness. he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight of her joy.

throughout their exploration, jude kept his camera ready, capturing every moment. “seriously, y/n,” he’d say, showing her a photo. “you look incredible. how do you manage to be so beautiful all the time?”

y/n would laugh, her cheeks flushing slightly. “you’re too much, jude. stop making me shy.”

“it’s true,” he’d reply, his gaze affectionate. “you’re always beautiful. i just want to remember every single moment with you.”

as the evening drew near, the city lights began to sparkle even more brightly, and jude and y/n found themselves at a charming little café. jude opened the door for y/n, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her inside with a loving touch.

“i think we’ve earned a little break,” jude said, his voice warm as he led her to a cozy corner table.

“i agree,” y/n said, slipping into the seat with a content sigh. she looked up at jude, her eyes full of affection. “thank you for making today so perfect.”

“anything for you, baby,” jude replied, his voice full of sincerity. he leaned in to kiss her softly, their lips meeting in a tender, intimate moment that spoke of their deep connection.

as they settled into their seats, jude’s protective instinct remained evident, but it was clear that his concern was born from love and admiration. with every touch and glance, jude made sure that y/n knew how much love he had for her.

the night’s air in osaka was filled with the tantalizing aromas of street food as jude and y/n found a cozy spot on the curb in front of a bustling food truck. the city’s neon lights flickered around them, creating a vibrant backdrop to their simple yet perfect moment.

they sat close together, their knees almost touching as they shared an assortment of delicious street food. jude held a skewer of yakitori, and with a playful grin, he offered it to y/n.

“here, baby, try this,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

y/n took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. “oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” she exclaimed, leaning in to give jude a quick peck on the cheek. “you did well.”

jude chuckled, his gaze soft and affectionate. “well, I guess it’s not just the food that’s amazing.” he picked up a piece of takoyaki and offered it to y/n with a teasing smile. “open wide.”

y/n giggled, taking the bite and savoring the rich, savory flavor. “you know, if you keep feeding me like this, i might just get used to it.”

“oh, I’m counting on it,” jude replied, his voice low and flirtatious. he leaned closer, brushing his lips against y/n’s ear. “i love taking care of you, baby.”

y/n shivered slightly at his touch, a smile spreading across her face. “you’re always take care of me,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing.

jude’s fingers brushed against y/n’s as he took a sip from his drink, their hands lingering together for a moment longer than necessary. he gazed at her with a look of adoration, his thumb gently caressing her hand.

“you know,” jude said softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to y/n’s neck. “you look absolutely beautiful, even with street food smeared on your face.”

y/n laughed, her heart fluttering at his affectionate gesture. “oh, stop it,” she teased, playfully nudging him with her shoulder. “has anyone told you, you’re quite the charmer, “bellingham?.”

“i can’t help it,” jude replied, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “you’re just so perfect, baby. i can’t help but let you know how much i adore you.”

they continued to feed each other, their playful banter punctuated by affectionate touches and teasing kisses. jude would occasionally lean in to press a soft kiss to y/n’s temple or brush his lips against her cheek, making her heart race with happiness.

“jude, you’re making it hard for me to eat my food,” y/n said with a playful pout, trying to hide her smile.

“that’s the idea,” jude said, his voice full of affection. “i’d rather have you focused on me.”

as they finished their meal, jude wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close. they sat together, enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence and the vibrant energy of the city. jude’s fingers gently played with y/n’s hair as they watched the world go by, their hearts full of contentment and love.

the taxi ride back to the hotel was bathed in a soft, golden hue from the streetlights outside, the cityscape slipping past as jude and y/n shared an intimate moment. they were still wrapped in the magic of their music video shoot, the camera capturing every tender glance and playful touch.

as they settled into the back seat, jude pulled y/n close, their bodies pressed together in the confined space. her head rested on his shoulder, his hand gently caressing her cheek. the rhythm of their breaths mingled with the hum of the taxi, creating a cocoon of warmth and affection.

y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she began to lip-sync the lyrics of her song, her voice a soft murmur against his skin. “breathe me, baby,” she sang for the camera, and the leaned in so her lips grazing his earlobe. “can you feel how much I need you?”

jude's breath hitched at the intimate touch, his eyes locked on hers as he cupped her face in his hands. “every word you sing,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “makes me fall for you even more.”

y/n’s eyes sparkled with mischief and love as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “i’m so glad you said yes to being in this video,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down his chest. “it’s been perfect.”

jude’s smile widened, his lips finding hers again in a slow, passionate kiss. “anything for you, baby,” he said against her lips, his hands sliding to her waist. “you make everything perfect.”

the taxi swayed gently as jude’s hands roamed her back, pulling her further into his lap. y/n’s fingers threaded through his hair, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent with every passing second. the city lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow on their entwined figures.

“for the rest of my life, allow me to show you just how much I love you,” jude whispered, his lips trailing down to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “you’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

y/n shivered at the heat of his words, her fingers gripping his shirt as she tilted her head back, offering him more access. “i’m yours,” she whispered breathlessly. “always.”

the taxi ride became a passionate, private moment where the world outside ceased to exist. their connection was palpable, their love evident in every touch, kiss, and whispered promise. as they finally arrived at the hotel, their hearts raced with anticipation, knowing they had shared a moment that was as intimate as it was unforgettable.

the night was drawing to a close as jude and y/n returned to their hotel, the city lights of osaka twinkling in the distance. the atmosphere in the hotel lobby was serene, a stark contrast to the bustling streets they had explored earlier. the final scenes of the music video were set to be filmed in the quiet, intimate setting of the hotel.

as they entered the elevator, jude and y/n positioned themselves in the corner, the camera crew ready to capture the last moments of their shoot. jude’s arm was wrapped around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close as they began to sing the final lines of y/n’s song, “breathe me.” their voices harmonized perfectly, the lyrics echoing softly in the confined space.

y/n leaned into jude, her head resting against his chest as she sang the poignant lyrics. jude’s gaze was soft and adoring as he looked down at her, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. their intimate performance was filled with passion, their connection evident in every touch and glance.

“you don’t need no air” jude murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as he sang. “you can just breathe me, breathe me.”

y/n smiled up at him, her eyes shimmering with affection. “you make it so easy to sing this song.”

jude’s playful side emerged as he gazed at y/n with a mischievous grin. without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. her laughter rang out, a bright, melodious sound that filled the elevator.

“jude, what are you doing?” y/n giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her.

“just making sure you’re comfortable,” jude teased, his voice warm and filled with adoration. “and maybe getting one last chance to show off my strong arms.”

“oh, really?” y/n playfully challenged, her eyes twinkling. “i didn’t realize you were so confident.”

“i’m always confident when it comes to you, baby,” jude said, his voice dripping with affection.

as they continued their playful banter, jude’s kisses grew more lingering. he pressed his lips to y/n’s neck, his breath warm against her skin. her eyes fluttered shut, a shiver of pleasure running through her.

the elevator doors opened, and jude carried y/n down the hallway, their laughter and teasing filling the space. the camera followed their every move, capturing their loving interaction.

as they reached their hotel room, jude kicked the door open with a gentle slam, his arms still wrapped around y/n. the room was bathed in soft, warm light, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

“careful, baby,” jude murmured as he lowered y/n to the floor, his hands lingering on her waist. “i don’t want to drop you.”

“don’t worry, i trust you,” y/n said, her voice filled with affection. she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. jude’s hands roamed her back, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened.

“this has been amazing,” y/n whispered against his lips, her eyes full of love. “thank you for making it so special.”

“anything for you, baby,” jude replied, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re my everything, you know that.”

with a final, lingering kiss, jude broke away just enough to look into y/n’s eyes. “now that the cameras are off and i i’ve got to show how much i love my beautiful, talented girlfriend. i think this next part should be for my eye’s only.”

y/n’s smile was a mixture of excitement and anticipation. “oh? and what do you have in mind?”

jude’s eyes sparkled with mischief and love. “you’ll see,” he said, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “but for now, let’s just say that the night is ours.”

as the door to the hotel room locked with a soft click, the final scene of their music video came to a close. jude and y/n remained in their embrace, their hearts full of the love and passion they had shared throughout the day.

with a final, affectionate kiss, jude guided y/n towards the plush bed, their laughter mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside. the world outside faded away, leaving them wrapped in their own little bubble of happiness, ready to enjoy the rest of their night in each other’s arms.

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @bbgkoo @ts1mp0ne @angryflowerwitch @niahxo @httpstoyosi @deonn-jaelle @4ngrysgf @adarkskinarchives @thelightknight21 @fandomwarrior98 @tobesolonely123 @tmthethwa471

[art-after-dark1]

STUDENT BODY

Mr Johnson was her health teacher. She knew he was married, but considering that she had caught him leering at her on multiple occasions, she knew that his wedding band would not stop him if she gave him a little nudge.

She had been waiting for the right moment. She even risked her GPA by failing a few assignments on purpose. In the end, it paid off because today he asked her if she wanted to stay after school for help.

Once the bell rang and dismissed all of her fellow students, she headed toward his classroom. When she walked in, he looked up from a stack of paper with a red pen in hand, and he gave her a smile. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her stomach fluttered. She took the seat in front of his desk after he told her to give him a minute.

She began casually opening and closing her legs. She had removed her panties prior to coming into his class, so she provided him an excellent opportunity to see her young, bald cunnie. Which, when he looked up, he saw because his eyes went wide, and he quickly lowered his eyes back to his stack of papers.

Once he finished, he got up and came around and sat on the edge of his desk directly in front of her. She could not tear her eyes away from his glorious bulge in his pants. She caught her self licking her lips and moaning. She had only seen one dick in real life. Tommy Reynolds had gotten her to stroke his last month and making him cum had been the most exciting thing she had ever done. That was when she set her plan for Mr. Johnson in motion.

"So Emily, I noticed that you were having a difficult time with the anatomy tests this past week. I wanted you to come in so we could go over a few things and get you caught up. So where should we begin?"

This was her moment. She had planned and prepared for this, so she gathered her courage and got up from her desk, and walked toward him. She stood in front of him and reached down to grab his cock.

"It's the male anatomy that I need to study further Mr. Johnson. Can you help me with that?"

His eyes went wide and he tried to remove her hands but she acted quickly and released his massive cock from his pants. It was so much bigger than Tommy's and it sprung to fully erect in no time.

"What are you doing, Emily? This is not acceptable."

She expected his reaction, but she did not let it stop her. She dropped to her knees and opened her eager mouth. She slid as much of him as she could into her mouth and began to suck him like she had seen in porn videos. He did not try to stop her. In fact he moaned a primal sound that made her little pussy wet.

She found herself so empowered, sucking his dick. She was in total control of him at this minute, and she loved it. After a while of teasing him, he grabbed her two ponytails and used them as a way to control her movements. He was not cruel or hurtful but he did begin to fuck her mouth more than her doing the job. After no time at all or atleast not as long as she wanted, he came in her mouth. She looked up at him and he had a devilish grin.

"That gets an A for effort, young lady. And I think we may need more study sessions in the coming days"

"Whatever you say Mr. Johnson." She replied as she swallowed his warm seed.

[skrrts]

Home Is ✧ yunho version (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x jeong yunho ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, romance ✧ word count: 1,2k

You have found the love of your life, and now the two of you are ready for the next step in your relationship: moving together. Neither of you can wait to finally be able to spend every day together but it's out of the question ... the whole progress looks a lot more casual and aesthetical on social media than it actually is. Chaos. You can't wait to finally be done with unboxing the last pieces of clothing and get comfortable in your new bedroom but then there is Pudeongie, who had been banished to now spend his days in the armchair in the corner of the room. Why do you feel so judged and how come Yunho is so cute about this?

a/n: #3 of the little mini series and can't believe we already wrap it up next week, September really passed by so quickly. it just made sense to give this plushie some screentime, he's very loyal with his life on yunho's bed

Did you always own that many sleeping shirts? You sighed as you looked at the box, still trying to somehow shove them all into the corner of the wardrobe. Yunho had been humble, just as always and he owned so few clothes that you wondered how he always looked so fashionable while you had so many and still failed to ever put your mind on outfits. Maybe you should have bought a larger wardrobe after all.

You loved your new home and after weeks of hard work, there really only had been a few details left until the two of you finally settled. The apartment belonged to one of Yunho's relatives and thanks to that, instead of being forced to rush and get all done in a weekend, the two of you took the time, setting all up and making tonight the first one where you would sleep here.

The stunning new large bed was the highlight of the bedroom and your amazing boyfriend had given in to your wish for one of those bed canopy decorated with fairy lights.

Everything was perfect, if not for the judging glances of a plushie that was now sitting in the small armchair in the corner of the room.

The plush dog had been the very first thing you noticed when you stayed at Yunho's place for the first time. Your boyfriend had been more of a minimalist and allergic to colors, so the brown plushie had been a hard contrast to all the greys and black of his room. Yunho said that it was a gift from a good friend, handmade and based on a silly design he came up with.

The plushie had been there from the beginning of your relationship, it napped in bed with you but after moving, it felt natural that it received a new place. Now, why did you feel so watched and judged? He shared years with Yunho, it was time to grow up!

You blushed, clearing your throat for your silly thoughts when the door opened and Yunho, came in, balancing a tray with cups. The smell of pumpkin spice latte and fresh brownies from your favorite bakery immediately made you smile as you only moved a little. Your boyfriend sat down by your side, smiling.

"You stored in clothes all afternoon. I thought it was a good time for a break. I made sure to take a photo of those cat cups so Wooyoung would stop texting us if we finally tried out his gift," Yunho laughed as he offered one to you. Ah yes, your friends had the most interesting presents to celebrate how two of their closest friends finally moved together after more than five years of dating.

You carefully sipped on it: "Thank you, this is so nice... I never really had carpet before but I can see the benefit now."

You chuckled and Yunho smiled, moving closer so he could hug you from behind, eyes wandering over your bedroom.

"Mhm, not that cold flooring will ever stop me from kissing you just at every corner and spot in our little home."

His words were full of pride, you loved how domestic Yunho was. He really embraced building all of that furniture together with your dad and starting to cook for you, making little snacks, and taking over chores you didn't like.

"Our home is almost perfect," you mumbled placing the cup down. Yunho blinked, tilting his head: "Almost? What's missing, love?"

You pouted a little: "Not missing, it's just him. He makes me feel so guilty."

You pointed toward the plushie and Yunho's gaze followed, blinking before laughing.

"Pudeongie? What has he done?" that cute little smile already hinted he knew it was just a silly moment.

"He judges me, look at him! He has been kicked out of bed and I am not sure if he will ever forgive me," you pouted again and Yunho couldn't stop himself from smiling.

Your boyfriend stood up, picking up the plushie to move over, sitting by your side again.

"I believe, this is just his resting face, like Woo. Look at him! He's all soft and loving!"

Yunho pouted cutely as he hugged it tightly and you couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes playfully, giggling.

"Of course, it hasn't to do with you being biased at all."

He loved that plushie and so did you. Of course, it had been part of many fond memories of your relationship.

"I am sure, it will be a change but he will get used to it. In fact, maybe all he needs is company!" Yunho winked and tilted his head slowly. You sipped on your cup again, before placing it aside.

"He is very handsome. So fluffy and tall, maybe I should take him to bed with me tonight, for the best cuddles!"

Now it was Yunho who was pouting: "Hey! The first night in a new home is important... I am very fluffy as well."

You couldn't hold back a laugh, placing a kiss on his cheek and then on Pudeongie's. "I think, you might be right and it's a draw. So what do we do about it?"

Yunho smiled at you, before slowly standing up and placing the plushie carefully back on the armchair. Then, he walked over to one of your wardrobes and pulled out a big body pillow, taking a marker and drawing an adorable face on its cover before placing it next to his plushie.

"There, all he needed was the perfect one by his side. I am very knowledgeable of just how that is what one needs," he insisted. You joined his side and he hugged you without hesitation.

"Very true. Maybe we can get it some fluffy ears too, so they match better," you looked up to Yunho who looked fondly at you.

"I am very blessed that I am loved by a person who accepts my fond former roommate," he whispered and kissed you. This was silly but you'd not want to have it any other way.

You sat down again, this time on his lap, offering him a few bites from the cookie he brought.

"Mh, the bakery at the corner of the street is really nice. We should invite Seonghwa next time, they sell really delicious-looking slices of strawberry cake."

Yunho was comfortable, he rambled on, and shared his explorations with you and what he liked about the new neighborhood. It warmed your heart to see him getting used to living here with you as quickly now.

"If we do that, he might come over often to visit," you chuckled.

Yeosang and Yunho had been living together since starting college and just remained that way long after picking up their jobs. When their contract had come to an end, it made sense for them to move on and it must be quite a change for them.

You intended to give Yunho just as many special memories in this place.

"Now then," you whispered, grinning.

"Shall we go on and give them some privacy? I feel, there is quite a long list of things I always wanted to do in our first home together," you teased and Yunho looked at you, winking.

"Well, since the list is so long, we better get started."

He took your hand and pulled you along, the bedroom door falling shut behind you.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hmmm a oscar request where the reader is a rookie for ferrari this year too in formula one, and maybe the reader is the younger sister of lando, and he has an idea that she’s involved with someone but he hasn’t presssed to find out who, the reader and oscar planned to tell everyone but than oscar got a deal with mclaren so they didn’t want to say anything yet, in japan it’s oscar and reader who get their first podiums together and lando is watching the two from the bottom with his team and he finally notices the looks and smiles between his teamate and little sister and starts thinking back to many times where he saw them interact (you could do like little flashbacks and show little scenes) thinking they were just best friends but realizing it was always more than that, and lando goes and confronts them and he’s not mad but a little hurt his favorite sister didn’t tell them and maybe after oscar and reader both post on insta and hard launch their relationship

♡ navigation / request info / f1 masterlist

♡ warnings: none.

♡ a/n: thank you for requesting and sorry you had to wait soooo looong!!!

You were always close to your brother. He supported you a lot this season since being a female rookie competing with your brother was taking a toll on you. But in the middle of the season something changed. Lando couldn’t tell exactly what happened but you seemed better - almost happier. He still supported you all the time but now you weren’t attached to his hip. At first he thought you had got used to everything around. Your teammate was one of Lando’s closest friends - Carlos. He knew you were safe. 

But with time Lando couldn’t shake off the feeling that something more serious was going on. The way you were smiling at your phone only to hide it deep inside your bag seconds later and the way you would get defensive anytime someone would ask a question about your love life. Lando was happy that you felt better - you were never seen in the paddock without your new glint in the eye and a soft grin - but he couldn’t get rid of his curiosity. 

Your relationship with Oscar started innocently. You were a rookie, he was a rookie. It was small things at first - a supportive pat on the back after a good session or a shared joke about Lando. Eventually your casual chats became late-night conversations and phone calls only to later transform into wine drunk confessions while sitting on the floor of Oscar’s hotel room. 

The two of you value your privacy. For many reasons you didn’t want your relationship public so the love blossomed behind the closed doors. During race weekends, amongst the chaos, you two always found a moment to be there for each other. The stolen glances, whispers and secret gestures being the testimony of your love. 

He often left flowers for you in your hotel room. Whenever Lando asked about them you replied with “Oh that. That’s from the hotel. It was here when I checked in”. You always took one flower or a few petals to dry and keep as a memory.

Knowing that Lando was observant, Oscar avoided asking too much about his sister and showing too much interest in you. He didn’t avoid you in front of Lando but he made sure not to spill your shared secret. 

It was incredibly frustrating and tiring. Sometimes you just wished you could hug Oscar after a race but instead you had to settle for a subtle nod form across the paddock. 

You and Oscar had a small argument about whether to tell your brother about your relationship. Oscar thought it would be better to tell him but you weren’t so sure. “Seriously? You think we can keep this secret from him any longer? Don’t be ridiculous.” he shook his head. ”The longer we hide it the more pissed off he will be. If the fans catch us before him, he’s gonna kill me, push me off the track or something…” he muttered.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. One side of you wanted your brother to know but on the other side you were scared. Many what ifs flooded your mind while Oscar went on about how he felt like a stupid teenager with all this sneaking around. “But you know how protective Lando is… What if he gets mad? What if it ruins your friendship? You are teammates, what if-” you anxiously went on and on as he was pacing around his room. He interrupts, his voice subtly rising “And what if he understands? What if he says it's fine and doesn’t say anything? You’re his sister! He loves you! I just don’t want to keep lying to him!”. 

You grew annoyed “You think I don’t feel that too? You think I wanna hide all the time? This isn’t easy for me! I have known him all my life, he’s been there for me through everything. I can’t just walk up to him and say ‘Oh yea, by the way, I have been secretly going out with your teammate for the past four months’!” you paused to take a breath “I just need some time”. Oscar huffed at your response “Time for what? For him to find out himself? Listen, I care about you, about us. I don’t wanna hide something so important. I can wait. But it can’t go forever. We’ll figure it out. He deserves to know”. 

“I know, I’m just scared…” you said looking at him. Oscar gently took your hand “I know, but we will figure it out together” he said softly. “Okay, together” you whispered, squeezing his hands.

The atmosphere in Japan was electric. It was a big race, everyone could feel it. Ferrari and Mclaren bought new updates for their cars causing the excitement to rise. The weekend was rainy but the weather didn’t stop you and Oscar from delivering your best performances.

On a Sunday afternoon you found yourself parking your car next to his and immediately getting out to hug him. You didn’t care about people around you - it was your first podium and only that mattered. 

Lando looked up at the podium, seeing his sister and teammate next to each other made his heart swell. Both of you covered in champagne, standing side by side, grinning and laughing like drunk teenagers.

That’s when everything clicked. Lando’s heart skipped a beat as all the little moments flashed before his eyes. The way you had talked in hushed tones in the garage, the playful banter during media days, and countless disappearances. 

During the interviews and post-race debrief Lando found himself lost in thoughts. He would occasionally glance at you or Oscar, trying to wrap his head around it. He wasn’t exactly angry, he was confused and a little hurt. He knew he had to talk to you about it. 

The team was buzzing with excitement, and plans had been made to go clubbing to celebrate. Lando caught up with you in the hotel lobby as everyone was getting ready to head out. “Hey, wait a second” he says the moment he sees you. “Yeah, what’s up?” you ask, unaware of what he knows. “So... you and Oscar, huh?” His whispered tone made shivers run down your spine. You chuckled nervously “What makes you think like that?”. He shrugged, crossing his arms “Well, I don’t know. The way you two have been sneaking off together, the little smiles, the whole ‘pretend we’re just friends’ act. I might be your brother, but I’m not that stupid” he paused, watching your expression. “So, how long?”.

“How long what?” says a voice behind you. You felt weight being lifted from your shoulders when you saw Oscar approach. “Oh, nothing. I was just asking how long the two of you have been dating.” Lando says with a smirk, his gaze glued to you, definitely enjoying your embarrassed state. Oscar could feel your emotions, his hand made his way to your back to caress it - a silent way of reminding you that he’s here. “A few months,” he admits, voice steady but cautious. “We didn’t want to keep it a secret, Lando. We just... didn’t know how to tell you” he explained. “It was never about not trusting you. I was just scared of your reaction…” you added. 

“Look, I get it. I’m not mad, just... annoyed I had to figure it out on my own. I would’ve preferred hearing it from you guys.” He glanced at both of you, the concern clear in his eyes “But if this is serious... then I just want to make sure you’re both happy. And that you’ll be honest with me from now on. Now let’s go celebrate, yeah?” you nodded and hugged Lando, feeling relieved.

The tree of you headed towards the car. Oscar opened the door for you and just as he was supposed to enter the car Lando pointed a finger at him. “But Oscar, you hurt her, and you are dealing with me. Remember that”. Oscar held up his hands in defense “Understood”. 

@/lando.jpg

happy podium to my favourite couple

september 18, 2024

[bullet-prooflove]

One Night: Donovan Rocker x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @mirabee @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @one-sweet-gubler @victoriajhyde @telepathay @@winterrosies-blog @@mah2101 @avillagesperson @irishavengersassemble @crimeshowjunkie @haielsker-93 @whateversomethingbruh @watashiwasun @burningpeachpuppy @slytherqueen14 @brownskinbaby22 @lady-athanasia

Companion piece to Reputation

You’ve ruined Donovan Rocker for anyone else. He realises that after the first night you spend together. It’s the most debauched night he’s had in his life, and it only continues the longer this thing between the two of you goes on.

With Val his sex life was vanilla, missionary once a month on date night. They’d tried a few other things, cowgirl, doggie style but Val liked what she liked, and he accommodated her. He’d had a couple of dates after the divorce, but they weren’t anything special. They’d helped him blow off a little steam, but they were nothing compared to the shit you get up to.

He thinks trust is the reason it works so well. It’s long established, he’s known you for a couple of years at this point. You’re on different teams these days. He’s a Sergeant on 50 Squad and you’re on 20. He thinks the fact you’re on the job gives you unique insight into why he is the way he is, why he craves the things he does. There’s no judgement from you when he asks for something a little intense, he’s discovered you like to play and explore as much as he does.

The only problem is, you treat this thing like it's casual, for Donovan it’s anything but.

You’ve given him a wild ride tonight, hand on his throat as you fuck him within an inch of his life. When you squeeze just right, he arches up into you, a moan tearing from his chest. When you come, you take him with you, dragging him over the edge as his cheeks flush that pretty shade of pink.

He’s barely had time to catch his breath before your slipping out from underneath his sheets. You scoop up your vest top from the floor, tugging it on over your curves so that it falls mid-thigh. His hand captures yours, tugging you back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Stay a little.” He requests.

“Donovan…”

He adores the way you say his name. He’s always been Rocker until that night in Noche, and now he’s Donovan, the man that loves you more than life itself.

“We’ve talked about this.” You remind him as he shifts into a sitting position. His hand comes to rest on upon your shoulder, his thumb skirting over the nape of your neck. Its an intimate little gesture, an admission that he wants more from arrangement the two of you have.

“We have.” He agrees as his lips follow suit, his heated mouth ghosts up the curve of your throat, his arms wrapping around you and drawing you back into the shelter of his body. “But what’s wrong with this?”

“Donovan…” You chide.

You’re giving in though, he can tell. It’s in the way you lean back into him. That smile on your lips as you let out that laugh, the one that makes his world just a little bit brighter. He’s found that ticklish spot just under the hinge of your jaw and now, he’s exploiting it.

“Stay.” He whispers into your ear.

“Just tonight.” You tell him. “Only one night.”

***

The problem is once you break one rule, it becomes easier to break the rest.

You’ve always had a reputation as the good girl. You follow orders with precision, you always play it safe. You’re solid, dependable. You’re also sleeping with a fellow officer, something that no one would ever suspect. You’ve always had a rule about dating cops, the first thing you learn as a woman on the force is not to fall into bed with a colleague. You’ve never had a problem with it until that night at Noche, the night Donovan walked into the bar where you played violin and saw the real you, the one you’ve kept hidden from everybody else. You’ve always been attracted to him but there was something special about that evening, you were coming off the high of performing and the way he looked at you…

You’ve never wanted someone so much.

It was meant to be a one-time thing but Donovan, he captivates you. You’ve always had a fascination with the edgier side of things, it’s the reason you dress the way you do when you play, it brings out the bad girl, the person you don’t get to be on SWAT. Donovan embraces that side of you, he understands it because deep down the two of you are exactly the same.

Which is why you stay over that night, because truly the two of you have something special. You just don’t want to be the woman that other cops think is fair game if things go sideways.

It doesn’t stop you from staying over on a regular basis, from kissing him goodbye on the doorstep when you leave. You go out for breakfast at the café around the corner, try to outpace each other during your morning run. When you’re sick, he comes over, takes care of you because he can’t stand the idea of you fending for yourself.

It becomes a full-blown relationship without you even realising it until one night you’re changing out an ice pack because he got clipped during an op. He takes it from you, hissing through his teeth before he places it upon the space where the bullet struck his vest. It had been close today; Stevens had told you when they’d gotten back to headquarters. It had freaked out his entire team.  It had scared the hell out of you.

“I love you.” You tell him, your thumb ghosting over his cheekbone as he looks up at you.

He reaches for your free hand, a smile playing across his lips as he pulls you down into his lap. Your thighs hug his hips, his fingertips brush a stray strand of hair back behind your ear as he looks into your eyes and says.

“I love you too.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[imblocking-you]

Therapy Game

[moeblob]

Impulsively shoving a guy's hand in your mouth after having the thought "oh just like when my little sister used to prick herself on a rose thorn" and then immediately being treated like a pet who ate something they shouldn't have? Wonderful. Thank you, Thane.

(also not pictured is Thane apparently trying to scrape your tongue with his hand BEFORE pouring the holy water down your throat because NO. BAD.)

[seventh-district]

so uh. that 2.2 Special Program, huh

[sunnibits]

hey, if you have arfid/any ed/any food sensitivity issues in general, do me a favor and reblog this and tell me these in the tags!: (as many or as little as you’d like - this is just for fun :))

- your current favorite safe food

- your favorite food in general

- one food that you can always manage to eat no matter what (if you have one!)

- one food that isn’t currently safe, but that you WANT to like or think you would like if you tried it

- the most recent new food that you have tried, and did you like it? (I’m so so proud of you either way!)