#time to go to bed and stare at the wall because this bitch is not done

[starcrossedjedis]

Introducing Sairen Sun aka. "Sun the Siren" in “Bring me the Horizon” [One Piece Live Action // Shanks x OFC]

"Wow, she's a beauty." - "So are venomous snakes..."

tagged: @acabecca @akabluekat @asirensrage @arrthurpendragon @bibaybe  @bravelittleflower @chickensarentcheap @curious-kittens-ocs @darknightfrombeyond @darkwolf76 @drbobbimorse @eddiemunscns @elmunson @emilykaldwen @far-shores @foxesandmagic @fragilestorm @fyeahocsofcolor  @harleyquinnzelz @if-you-onlyknew @jewishbarbies @katiekinswrites @kingsmakers @mabonetsamhain @margoshansons @mystic-scripture @ocappreciationtag @sgtbuckyybarnes @stachedocs @susiesamurai @thatmagickjuju (just let me know if you want on here as well ♥)

[itneverendshere]

it's all you're good for, right? - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

rafe knew you wouldn’t take his disrespect lightly.

you never did.  

he’d expected you to blow up the second he pulled that ignoring shit at the dinning. he was ready for it—your texts coming in hot, maybe you showing up at his house, ready to tear into him like you always did when he pushed too far. he'd never say it out loud, but a part of him almost liked it, the way you’d get all fired up, spitting mad. it was hot.

but you didn’t call. not a single text. you didn’t show up to the party that weekend, and when he tried to hit you up, just looking for a booty call—because fuck, he was so hard thinking about you—it went straight to voicemail. he stared at his phone like an idiot, calling again. blocked.

you? block him? nah, that wasn’t supposed to happen. rafe was the one with the power here, or at least, that’s how it used to be. it was always this push and pull, but he was the one pulling the strings, right? no fucking pogue was ever going to order him around. right?

wrong. the next weekend rolls around, and there you are at one of his parties, looking good as ever, laughing with your friends like nothing happened. and still, not even a glance his way. for two weeks now, you’ve been completely ignoring him, and it’s starting to get under his skin. more than it should.

he watches you from across the yard like a fucking creep, sipping his drink and trying to act like he doesn’t give a fuck, but inside, he’s low-key losing it. he half-expected you to walk right up to him and give him hell like you always do. but no, you’re just... doing your own thing. 

but what’s really making his head spin is what you're wearing. the outfit is pure trouble—skin-tight and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. a barely-there black mini skirt, riding up just enough to make his jaw clench, paired with a tiny top that’s more like a bralette than an actual shirt. it’s low-cut and clings to your curves, thin straps barely holding it in place, and the way it hugs your body?

yeah, he’s fucked. the way the skirt moves when you walk, teasing just enough thigh? it’s like you knew he’d be watching.

he hates how much it turns him on.

every guy at the party notices. he can see the way their eyes follow you as you move through the crowd, laughing, like you don’t even care. but it’s the way you’re ignoring him that’s really pushing him to the edge. normally, rafe loves the attention despite the look of disgust he always greets you with when you show up. loves knowing you’re secretly going to end up in his bed. but tonight? he’s not so sure and it’s killing him.

by the time he corners you, all he can think about is tearing that outfit off. the silent treatment? that shit was way worse than anything you could've said. 

“alrigh’, i get it,” he starts, throwing his hands up like he’s already done with this conversation. “jesus christ.”

you just blink up at him, completely unfazed, like he’s not even worth a reaction. his words might as well be bouncing off a wall. the fact that you’re standing there looking so fucking good, and acting like he doesn’t even exist, is messing with his head more than anything you could’ve said.

he’s pissed, yeah, but more than that, he’s desperate. desperate for a reaction. for anything. but you just brush past him, your body touching his for the briefest second, like you’re doing it on purpose just to make him snap.

rafe stands there for a second, blinking in disbelief. did you just really blow him off like that?

before he even realizes it, he's following after you, shoving through the crowd like a man possessed.

“are you serious right now?” he hisses when he catches up, grabbing your wrist lightly but firm enough to make you stop. the emotion in his voice is undeniable, and everyone nearby is pretending not to watch the little scene. “you're really just gonna walk past me like that?”

karma’s a bitch.

you finally turn to him, but the look in your eyes isn’t anger—it’s indifference. that cold, detached stare that fucks with his head more than any of the shouting matches you’ve had in the past. you pull your wrist free with ease, like his grip is nothing.

“’m over it,” you say coolly, like you’ve already moved on from the whole thing, “whatever this is? it’s not worth my time.”

that does it.

he’s used to the back and forth, the fire between you, but this, you acting like you don’t care at all—it’s new, and it pisses him off more than he thought possible. he steps closer, dropping his voice lower so no one else can hear.

“bullshit,” he says, eyes narrowing. “you’re pissed, i get it. but don’t act like you’re done with me. you aren’t.”

the smirk that curls on your lips is almost cruel.

“watch me.”

you turn and walk away, leaving rafe standing there. he knows he should let it go, but every time he tries to convince himself of that, the way your body looks in that outfit, the way you shut him down so easily, keeps replaying in his head.

and instead of walking away, he’s right back where he started, chasing after you like he can’t stand the idea of not having you anymore.

before you even get two steps away, he snaps.

his patience has run out, and all that pent-up frustration? yeah, it’s got him seeing red. he doesn’t even think about it—just moves. his hand wraps around your arm, and in one swift motion, he’s hoisting you up like you weigh nothing, slinging you over his shoulder.

“what the fuck, rafe!” you shout, your fists pounding on his muscular back, but he doesn’t stop. eyes burning, jaw clenched—he doesn’t give a shit who’s watching. not his friends, not anyone at the party. right now? he’s too pissed off and turned on to think straight. 

you wriggle in his grip, your legs kicking, but he holds you tight, marching through the party like it’s no big deal, even though everyone’s definitely staring. he’ll deal with the fallout later.

“put me down!” you’re practically growling, and maybe under any other circumstances, he would’ve listened. but not tonight. tonight, he’s done playing nice, done pretending like he’s not obsessed with you or your body, done trying to act like he’s got control over this situation when clearly, you’re the one pulling all the strings.

his grip on you is tight, and possessive, and you’re too furious to care about how turned on you secretly are. he doesn’t stop until he reaches his room, kicking the door shut behind him with one solid thud. the sound of the lock clicking is loud in the tense silence. then, he throws you onto his bed, like you're nothing more than a ragdoll.

you bounce once, staring at him with wide eyes.

“what the fuck is wrong with you!” you snap, sitting up on the bed, glaring at him.

he’s pacing now, running his hands through his hair, wild-eyed, like he’s trying to calm himself down but can’t. he turns to you, his face twisted in frustration, like he’s been holding something in for way too long. and when he speaks, his voice cracks just enough to show how on edge he really is.

“you!” he explodes, pointing at you like you're the only thing in the room. “you’re what’s wrong with me!”

his pacing slows down, and suddenly he stops. he turns back to you, both his hands shooting up to his temples, fingers pressing into his head.

“you get in my fucking head,” he admits through gritted teeth, jabbing his fingers into his temples like he’s blaming you for every thought he's had for weeks. “i can’t think straight because of you. every fucking time, you crawl into my head and just—won’t—leave.”

instead of letting his little meltdown get to you, you lean back on your hands, with a bratty scoff. “how is that my fucking problem?” you snap, crossing your arms like you couldn’t care less about his breakdown. “that’s on you, not me. maybe you should try, i don’t know, leaving me alone.”

rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched tight, “you think this is a joke?” he growls, stepping closer, closing the gap between you two, his presence almost suffocating. “you think you can just sit there and act like none of this is your fault?”

you give him a fake sweet smile, leaning forward just enough to be in his face, “maybe you shouldn’t have fucked me in the first place, hmm? god forbid your friends find out you’ve been slumming it with a pogue.”

it’s the fake docility in your smile that makes him want to break something. he steps even closer, his breath hot and heavy as his eyes lock onto yours, blue and furious.

"that’s what this is?" His voice is low, almost a growl. “you seriously don’t get it, do you?" he leans in, his face inches from yours, his expression almost daring you to keep pushing. "this—whatever the fuck this is between us—this isn’t about them. it’s about you." his hand shoots out, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. "don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into from the beginning."

you yank your chin free, rolling your eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he's getting to you. “right. you ignoring me at the dinner? guess i was supposed to just sit there and take it, huh? maybe you wanted me to be a good little bitch and not make any noise.” 

you might be pissed, but you're not just angry—you're hurt, and that fucks with his head more than he cares to admit.

rafe huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “what the fuck do you want from me? huh? you want me to call you my girlfriend? you want me to fucking introduce you like this is some kind of relationship? be fucking serious.”

"be fucking serious?" you repeat, "you gave me a 200$ tip, you fucking asshole!" you shove him hard in the chest, catching him off guard. “like ’m some kind of fucking whore!”

rafe's eyes widen as he stumbles back a step, “wait—what? no, no, no. that’s not what it meant.”

you glare at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “of course, it fucking was!” you shout, shoving him again, harder this time. “what else would it mean, huh? you throw money at me like it’s supposed to make everything okay, like ’m some kind of... some kind of pogue you can pay off and keep quiet.”

he looks stunned, his mouth opening and closing like he’s trying to figure out what to say. “that’s not—fuck, that’s not what i meant. i wasn’t thinking about it like that, okay? i was trying to help you!" he blurts out, his tone defensive, like he can’t believe you’re twisting his intentions into something they weren’t.

you laugh, but it’s sharp, biting. “help me?” you stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “oh, please. shut the fuck up. why would you ever want to help me, rafe? be real.” he tries to speak, but before he can you’re already stepping back. “if you want to fuck me, just get on with it. i need to leave. so, make it quick.”

what?

“is that what you think this is?” he doesn’t move to touch you, but the tension is strong enough to feel suffocating. “you think ’m just here to—”

“to fuck me? yeah. that’s what this has always been about,” you cut him off, “and you know what? it’s okay. let’s not drag it out. do what you do best—take what you want and leave me the fuck alone.”

he’s not ready to admit that this feels more than just a hookup. he’s not sure if he will ever get there. rafe’s chest heaves as he stares at you. he’s done trying to explain himself. 

“fine,” he snaps, stepping closer until his chest is almost brushing yours. “if that’s what you want.” 

your breath catches in your throat, but you don’t back down. not when you're this annoyed. “yeah, it is. stop wasting my time.”

in one swift motion, rafe pulls you to him by the waist, with his usual roughness that makes you drip between your thighs. his lips claim yours with a bruising force. it’s not soft or sweet—this is raw, messy, all tongue and teeth. his hands are everywhere, gripping your hair, your ass, pulling you flush against him like he can’t have any space between you. you’re both moving with frantic, desperate eagerness, like this is less about desire and more about proving a point.

“is this what you want?” rafe snarls against your lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank your top over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room. “to get fucked stupid and leave? that it?”

you let out a breathless laugh, but it’s overflowing with venom. “that’s all you’re good for, right?”

so much for making peace.

TAGLIST: @drewstarkeys-world @maibelitaaura @maybankslover @jkrafe @willowpains

[pacofprunes]

cotton candy grapes

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.

the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.

“where are you going?”

nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.

“none of your business.”

he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.

“hello señorita.”

you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.

“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”

he points to the other side where you see a group of people.

“uh, no thank you.”

“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, am a great ally.”

you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.

“you killed all those people.“

he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.

“did i?”

“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”

he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.

“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”

he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.

“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”

he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.

“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”

he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.

you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.

“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”

you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.

“you fucking bitch.”

he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.

“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”

he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.

“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”

he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.

“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”

[hiraethwrote]

contents : f!reader, stressed and overworked satoru, pretty much pure fluff, profanity, baking, somewhat proofread, no use of y/n wc <1k an : happy birthday to the loml <3 that's it... that's the post

This was the last thing Satoru needed right now.

It had been a long day — much like most mornings, he had to carefully wiggle out of your grip in your shared bed to head to work, only to have the higher ups ride his neck from dawn until dusk. And today, for some reason, his students had decided to be particularly difficult, arguing on whatever he said.

Maybe he was just more short tempered than normal today, as he had a perfect vision of how he wanted the day to go — lazy morning, slowly waking up next to you as you’re nothing but tangled limbs, have a share breakfast, then do absolutely nothing of importance while graced with your company. Was that too much to ask for his birthday?

Seemed like it.

And what greets him first when he enters your apartment isn’t your warm embrace — no, instead it’s the scenery of his home looking like a complete mess before a frustrated groan is heard, followed by a loud “fuck, just work god dammit”.

He wanted to relax, rot on the couch with you pressed up against him before sleep eventually trapped you in oblivion and he could carry you into the bedroom where he could fall asleep next to you.

Instead, something is wrong — he doesn’t need to see it to know. His entire body feels it when something’s off with you, and he won’t be able to rest until he knows you’re at peace with whatever is causing you trouble.

“Piece of shit machinery,” he hears you say as he turns the corner to enter the kitchen. And though the scene is a mess, it’s a whole different mess than what he expects to see. “Ten thousand yen for this not to do its fucking job,” you say through gritted teeth.

Satoru lets his eyes roam every corner of the kitchen. There’s bowls and tools everywhere, flour covering the floor, some semi successful attempts of pastries on the table — there’s even what he suspects to be cake batter travelling up the walls, wondering how the hell you managed to do that.

“What’s this?” he breaths in confusion, your frame jumping at the sudden sound of his voice.

“Satoru!” You groan as you turn to face him. “No! You’re not supposed to be home yet,” you clap your hands to dust off the access flour.

If it was even possible, you were more of a mess than your surroundings. Your apron had definitely seen better days, frosting speared across your cheek and your hair tied up in a… birds nest was probably the best description.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” it came out nearly like a cry as your hands came flying to cover your face before dragging them through your hair, leaving white flour in its trail. “I wanted to do this for you! I mean, all that you do for me, especially with your busy schedule. Then I couldn’t make up my mind on what to make, because let’s admit it, sweet is your favourite flavour. So I thought, hey let’s just make them all. You deserve it after all, but then the damn machine decided to be a little bitch. I just wanted to do something special for your birthday-“

Your rambling is cut short as Satoru captures your rambling pout in a deep and passionate kiss, a hand on each side of your face. When he eventually pulls away, you’re left speechless and face flushed warm.

“My god, I love you,” he breathes, staring into your eyes with all the devotion he has for you, and it still doesn’t feel like he is able to do his feelings justice.

“It’s just cake, ‘Toru,” you say with a shy giggle. “Or more like four different halves of cake.”

“It’s about more than the cake.” His voice is low, nearly fragile, letting his thumb stroke tenderly across your cheek, never even daring to let his eyes leave yours.

Sure, it was just cake — but to him it was also the effort. The fact that you’d wanted to do this for him, specifically. The time, the work, the dedication — all things you didn’t owe him, but something you just wanted to do for him to show how much you loved him.

“But they didn’t even come out right-“

“I don’t care,” he smiled, leaning forward to press a soft peck on your nose before resting his forehead against yours. “It probably tastes amazing anyway.”

“Yeah, I used a shit ton of sugar,” carefully pulling away to look at his face.

He smirks again, thumb wiping away the frosting on your face before licking it off. “Hmm, think I gotta eat some to be sure.”

“Well, help yourself. They’re all for you after all,” you step away to gesture towards your creations on the dining table, his eyes immediately drawn to the chocolate cake with ‘happy birthday baby’ jankily written on top.

“Thank you,” he says softly, hand trailing down your arms to loosely grab ahold of your fingers. “I really love you, you know?”

“I know,” you smile in return and give his hand a squeeze. “I love you too.”

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[navybrat817]

Any thoughts for WETnesday with Bucky?🤭🤭

Okay, Syd. I wrote this after work for Wetnesday and promptly fell asleep. So, I'm posting this on Thirsty Thursday! And that has to be Mr. Barnes before you two are married.

Dinner Plans

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to be late for dinner, but you don't seem to be in a rush to go.

Word Count: Over 2.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, quick unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, lovelies), possessive behavior, a bit of humor and fluff, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I love this couple, okay? @targaryenvampireslayer and @starlightcrystalline, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was still early in the evening as Bucky got ready for dinner. Checking his watch once he put it on, he sighed. If he was late, Steve would give him a hard time. And if Steve gave him a hard time, Sam would only give him the gasoline to fuel the fire. Just the thought of it had his face shift to his grumpy stare you loved.

His gaze softened when you went to the vanity. Would the guys give him a hard time if he said he was in love and wanted as much alone time with you as possible? How being with you was like floating on a cloud and being pulled back down to earth all at once? He didn’t care if they’d call him out for being sappy. He sure as hell suffered enough in his life that he could afford to be appreciative of you and maybe a little selfish when it came to you.

But checking the time, he grumbled. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago,” he said.

He would’ve rather gone to a hole in the wall kind of place or a diner to have dinner, but it wasn't his turn to pick the dinner out with some of the gang. Plus it was nice getting to dress up with you since you liked how he looked in suits. To be fair, you said he looked good in anything and he felt the same way about you. How you always managed to look like a goddess, he’d never know.

You hummed. “We still have a few minutes to spare,” you said, which he wasn’t sure how you knew since you hadn’t looked at the time. “And you are not dressed yet, so it’s not like we can head out the door.”

He paused to stare at you. “Neither are you,” he pointed out, licking his lips as you leaned forward a bit more as you applied your makeup. He shook his head after a moment, trying to snap himself out of the spell you always managed to put him under. “I’m bringing you one of my cardigans to put over your shoulders in case you get cold.”

Because the weather was nice for the evening, you picked out a sleeveless dress. He didn’t know if the restaurant would be cold though, and he didn’t want you shivering through the meal. You likely had something to match your dress, but putting one of his cardigans over you was like that extra touch of belonging to him in case anyone got any ideas.

“You just want one of your shirts draped over me like a big neon sign that says I’m yours and you don't want guys checking me out on my dress,” you said like you knew exactly what he was thinking. There was no reason to deny your words since it was the truth. “But I appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

“I do like my clothes draped over you,” he smirked. He liked having his smell on you, too. “But you know what I don’t like? Steve and Sam bitching if we’re late. It’ll spoil my appetite.”

“Aww, my poor super soldier,” you teased, smiling at him in your reflection and making his heart skip a beat. “If we’re late, you can just blame me. I won’t let them give you a hard time, okay?”

Bucky couldn’t blame you though. Not entirely. You were late getting in the shower thanks to him insisting on the two of you staying in bed. Serum stamina or whatever you wanted to call it, but he felt bad some days for his almost constant need. You didn’t seem to mind though.

“They won’t believe me,” he said, staring again when the strap of your bra slipped from your shoulder. “And baby, you know I adore you, but you need to quit distracting me so I can finish getting dressed.”

Ever since you moved in, you’d been a distraction in a wonderful way. He often found that he’d pause to look at photos or little touches you incorporated into the place, giving him a chance to reflect on memories you made together and even learn more about who you were before you met. Hearing your laughter or voice call to him from another room also made him drop whatever he was doing, too. Sharing a space with someone could be daunting, but it was easy with you, like you had lived together for years. It made him look forward to more.

“Me? Distracting you?” You turned your head toward him and gave him an innocent glance. You were anything but innocent. “I'm not doing anything.”

Bucky almost snarled. Like hell you weren't doing anything. Swaying your hips and prancing around in your lingerie before you sat to get ready, lingerie which barely covered your gorgeous tits and sweet cunt. He wanted to rip it to shreds or tear it off with his teeth. You wouldn’t mind, right? He could always get you more to destroy.

“Not doing anything? Look at you,” he said incredulously as you turned back to the mirror and pushed your bra up. He should’ve been holding your breasts. “Why aren't you wearing a robe?”

You tilted your head. “Well, you said before I got in the shower that we were in a slight rush, so I figured putting on the robe was a waste of time. At least I have my underwear on, though I know you’d rather I be naked.”

If Bucky had his way, you’d be naked all the time. At least, when you two were at home. Logically he knew he couldn’t have that at work, functions, or anything of that nature, but the image in his head was nice. “For such a rush you seem to be taking your time.”

“I'm not taking my time. I'm finishing my makeup,” you argued, carefully applying your lipstick. “Like it?” you asked, blowing him an air kiss. It was a pretty shade. It would look even prettier smeared around his cock.

He closed his eyes with a groan. Some days he felt like a caveman with the thoughts that consumed him. “You look beautiful,” he said once he opened his eyes. Like always. “Now get your dress on so I can show you off before I put the cardigan on you.”

“Show me off?” You slowly stood from your chair and gave him a generous view of your backside. His cock twitched in his pants, and there was no reason to hide the pure lust in his eyes when you turned to face him. “You flatter me, Mr. Barnes.”

He chuckled. It always did something to him when you called him Mr. Barnes. It was something affectionate, sweet. “I think you’re the one flattering me, Mrs.-” he exhaled before he could finish, and he heard the hitch in your breath across the room.

“What was that?” you asked breathily.

He adjusted the watch on his wrist and avoided your gaze. You were his girl, yeah, and the love you had for each other spoke volumes, but you weren’t his wife. Not yet. God, how he wanted you to be- for you to take his last name, wear his ring on your finger, be his partner in all aspects of life. He wanted it to be more than just a dream.

“I didn’t say…” He cleared his throat and put on a blank face, only because he didn’t know how you’d react. “Anything.”

Your eyes raked over him before you beckoned him forward with a finger. He swore no one would ever control him again after HYDRA brainwashed him, but you could’ve commanded him to do anything. It didn’t frighten him because you would never harm him, never take advantage of him. Taking him into your care and maintaining his trust was one of the ways you showed you loved him.

Once he stood in front of you, barely an inch away, you whispered, “Were you about to call me Mrs. Barnes?”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. It was one thing to say you loved each other, to want a future together, but what if you weren’t ready when he popped the question? “I was,” he whispered back.

You smiled, not looking the least bit put off or afraid. He should've known it wouldn't bother you, especially with you being the one to say “I love you” first. “I think that has a really nice ring to it,” you said, your hands moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You think so?” he asked, forgetting for a moment that he was capable of breathing. “You like the idea of being my wife?”

Bucky would no doubt be the kind of husband who’d brag about you. He’d find ways to insert “my wife” in conversations just to let others know that you picked him out of everyone else on the planet. Not just that, he wanted people to know how proud he was to be your man and that he’d find reasons every day to be proud of you.

“I love it,” you confirmed, sighing when he ran his fingertips along your arms. “Makes my heart race,” you admitted. He could hear it. “Makes me wet.”

Bucky arched his hips and pressed up against you. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, not stopping you as you unbuttoned his pants. He was thinking of just cancelling dinner so he could throw you on the bed and stay inside you for the rest of the night. “We need to-”

“Oh. Now might be a good time to tell you that Steve pushed the reservation back by a half hour,” you cut in, mouthing over his racing pulse. “He figured he’d message me since I’m better about checking my phone, and-”

Bucky picked you up with ease and tossed you onto the bed. Your wide-eyed expression as you bounced nearly had him busting out of his pants, and he didn’t hesitate to crawl over you and pin you down. Relishing in the moan you let out when he lightly bit your neck, he did it again a little harder. “No wonder you took your time and teased me,” he smirked when you squirmed beneath him. “My future wife.”

“My future husband,” you moaned, bucking your hips up. “Need you in me. We can be quick.”

You got a hand in his hair and forced his head up to yours, your tongue impatiently pushing into his mouth. He groaned in understanding, feeling just as desperate as you. Knowing how turned on you were at the thought of being his wife turned him on, and he could barely form a coherent thought as he took his cock out and gave it a couple of quick pumps.

“Say it again,” he demanded, shoving your panties aside and rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. He took his time earlier today stretching you, and he wanted nothing more than to feel you around him again.

And the way you reached between your bodies and gripped the base of his cock, he knew you wanted the same when you said, “Fuck me, my future husband.”

He eased in gently, making you whine. He thought he’d whine, too, for a second because of how good he felt. God, how good it would feel to hold your hand one day and feel his ring against your skin. “You okay?” he asked, dragging his thumb along your lower lip once he was fully inside you. You were tight still, so wet, and oh, he was going to fuck you and make it quick, but he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, starting deep into his eyes as you clenched around him with purpose and brushed his hair back. He tried to be still, tried not to thrust like a wild animal. “Are you?”

“I’m okay,” he promised, easing his hips back. “Just hold on while I fuck you.”

Your back arched when he slammed himself back in nice and deep, your cry bouncing off the walls. Here in the comfort of your home you didn’t have to smother any noises, didn’t have to keep quiet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how you were the queen of his world.

Being inside you all he got out was, “You feel so fucking good.”

And because you could read him like no one else could, you tenderly smiled. “I love you, too.”

He threw his head back as you clutched his arms, determined to make you feel good, determined to show you how much he loved you even as he fucked you. “Gonna put you on your hands and knees after dinner. Make you watch in the mirror while I fuck you,” he groaned. “Can imagine it's part of our honeymoon.”

“Please!’ you moaned, trying to meet his thrusts.

Bucky grabbed your thighs to lift you higher, uncaring if he ruined his pants for the evening. Watching you tremble beneath his, a vision of ecstasy, he was happy to stay there forever. Wrapped up in you was where he always wanted to be.

“Gonna come,” you moaned, reaching up to pull his hair again, your body quaking. “Bucky, please.”

Bucky groaned. He hadn’t rubbed your clit how he wanted to. Didn’t get to tear your bra off and tease your nipples. He did promise to fuck you later though, and he’d do all those things and more. “Then come for me,” he smirked, leaning down to say against your lips, “Future. Mrs.. Barnes.”

You got impossibly tight and the flood of wetness that gushed around him triggered his own orgasm, a rush of heat filling him as he filled you. His mouth fell open as you clung to him, and he heard you moan his name as your eyes went glossy. He wanted the image of you getting off to taking his last name etched in his brain for all time. He wanted his name to fall from your lips again and again on your wedding night.

The cloud in his mind began to lift. You, his future wife, were beneath him, still shaking, still holding him like a lifeline. He didn’t want to let you go either. “Holy… shit…” you panted.

He braced himself above you, trying not to crush you as the euphoria slowly faded. It never really went away though. Not with you. “Holy shit,” he agreed. He stayed inside you, your sweet mewl making him smile as he kissed you. “Is this a new kink?” he asked, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, touching his cheek. “New kink unlocked.”

Touching your lips with his once more, he chuckled. “You ruined my pants,” he teased. It wouldn’t have been the first time. The first time you rode his thigh and got your release all over it, he nearly came, too. “Good thing I have a few minutes to change.”

He cradled you close when he shifted to the side, making you moan again. “Yeah, well, you ruined my panties. Fair is fair.”

“I did,” he smirked, running his fingers along your spine. “Hey.”

“Hey what?”

“I love you,” he whispered, wanting to say it as often as he could. They weren’t just words, but a declaration, a promise.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, tracing one of the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

His lips brushed your forehead. He’d never get tired of hearing you say that. “If I asked you to marry me right now, would you say yes?”

He wouldn’t propose right this second. You deserved something more romantic. But in his heart, he just wanted to hear you say that you’d say yes.

You giggled, your eyes full of love. “I would say yes in a heartbeat,” you replied, kissing him gently. Your answer relieved him. “And I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But?” he asked, sensing a “but” in there.

“But don’t ask me right now, okay?” you smiled, in sync with his thoughts. “I mean, I’d like to think my pussy would make you propose now-”

“And it would,” he smirked.

You giggled again. “But ask me when I’m not expecting it… Whenever it feels right to you.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Looking forward to it.” You snuggled closer and missed his look of adoration. “Hold me for one more minute before we get ready to go?”

As if he could ever deny you. “I’ll hold you as long as you want,” he whispered.

He no longer cared if Steve or Sam gave him shit should they show up late. If you wanted him to skip dinner just to hold you, he’d do it. If you wanted him to surprise you when he proposed, he would. And no matter when Bucky asked you to be his wife, he’d make sure it was perfect as it could possibly be.

AHH! I love them so much. How do you lovelies think he proposed? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[gh0stsp1d3r]

-GUN TO YOUR HEAD…

MDNI | DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Warnings: gun play, dark!rafe, blowjobs, gun to head, drug use (cocaine), use of the words “bitch, idiot”, dubcon

I don’t condone any of this in real life. this is PURELY a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken seriously. consent is key <3

He had been tired of your constant whining and complaining the whole day. As soon as you both stepped into the house, his eyes darkened and you could tell he was being serious when he reached into his waistband and the gun you knew was tucked in it.

You swallowed, thinking the words “rafe wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Over and over to yourself. He glanced down at it, holding it in his hands.

“Stop your crying.” He told you with a scoff. “Get in the fucking room.” He nodded his head towards the door, you quickly nodding again, scrambling to the room as quickly as possible, tearing off your shoes as you sat on the bed, your leg bouncing up and down while you desperately tried to wipe your tears off with the back of your hand.

You swallowed again when you stood in front of him, looking down bashfully at the floor underneath you. You watched as he walked in, grabbing out something from his drawer, before hearing him snort a line on his dresser, him throwing his head back with a sigh.

“Get on your knees.” His voice was a murmur, but it was held with authority, you obeying as quickly as possible.

“Can’t take your fucking… constant nagging anymore. Rafe, I wanna go home. Rafe, this is bad. Rafe don’t do that!” He mocked you with a scoff, pacing in front of you for a moment before stopping.

He stood in front of you, you still looking at the ground. “Look at me when I talk to you!” He shouted, you jumping and flinching as the words vibrated off the walls, you looking up at him now, your eyes pleading with him.

He sighed heavily, looking at the gun in his hands. He thought for a moment, before he put it of the side of your head.

“Rafe-“.

“Shut up.”

“Rafe- I’m- I’m- I’m- sorry- I’m sorry-“ you were hyperventilating at this point.

“I said shut up!”

You continued staring up at him with fear and confusion in your eyes, not knowing what to say or do at this point.

“God- fucking idiot-“ he murmured to himself, although you heard it. “Do I need to give you step by step instructions? Suck my dick.” He said in a demeaning voice.

You listened and obeyed, your hands fumbling with his zipper, before pulling his cock out of the confines of his pants and boxers.

He sighed in relief when you finally put your mouth to the tip of his aching, red cock, the hand that was on the gun relaxing slightly. You didn’t waste a second, not wanting to anger him any more.

His other hand made its way to the back of your head, setting a faster pace. You made a noise of surprise, grabbing onto his thighs, digging your nails into them as he shoved your entire mouth down on his cock. You had spit dripping down your mouth and mascara running down your face, but he didn’t seem to care.

He chuckled harshly, “don’t cry.” He mocked with a pout, you slobbering all on his cock while he spoke down to you. “This is what happens when you’re a fucking bitch all day, baby.” He shoved you down even further, until your face was stuffed in his pubic hair, him laughing at your struggles to breathe.

He pulled you back off of his cock, giving you time for some air. You coughed and spluttered, your throat thoroughly bruised. He leaned down to speak in your ear, a chilling threat that hung in the air even when he left the room to go start a bath for you. Because despite everything, he still loved you. A sick, twisted part of him did.

“You’re lucky I don’t blow your brains out right fucking now.”

When he left, you noticed the bullets laying across the room. The gun had been empty the whole time.

[lacydollette]

CASUAL , TWO ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ‘casual’ mini series

pairing: fwb!dean x fem!reader

warnings: unrequited love, fwb, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, explicit language, angst, reader feeling used, arguing, dean being a scared lil bitch, nsfw, 18+,

Dean knew he was asking for a lot the moment he hit the call button. He leaned against the creaky wall of the random, rundown motel room he had booked. His mind was racing, though he wasn't really sure why. He just needed a distraction, something to pull him out of the mess inside his head, and you—well, you always knew how to make him feel better.

He'd heard that you were on a case nearby, and now, here he was. Again. Calling you like it was nothing, like your last time together didn't feel... different.

While on the other end you had stared at your phone for what felt like an eternity, your thumb hovering over Dean's name. You knew what he wanted. You always did. It wasn't a mystery why Dean was calling you up out of the blue at 1am.

Your first instinct was to ignore him. You didn't need this—didn't need to be his go-to when he needed an escape. Lately, every time you thought of him, it felt like your heart cracked a little more. And despite his emotional distance you couldn’t help yourself.

"Dean?" You voice crackled through the phone as you picked up the call. "Hey, uh... You still in the area?" he asked, trying to sound casual. You sighed on the other end, and Dean could already feel your hesitation. "Yeah, I'm around.”

"Good. There's this motel a few miles off the highway. Thought maybe you could, I don't know, come ‘round?"

"I don't think I can," you said, your voice softer now, but firm. "I'm busy." Dean frowned, pushing off the wall and pacing. "C'mon, y/n. Just a couple of hours. It's not like we haven't done this before." A sarcastic chuckle left your lips, sounding almost bitter. "Exactly, Dean. We've done this before. Too many times."

"Yeah, but—" Dean started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to say to that. It wasn't like he could argue with you. You both knew what the deal was. Casual, no strings, no messy emotions.

But still, he found himself pushing. "I just need you, okay? For tonight. Just to get out of my head." Dean could feel his heart thudding against his ribcage.

It wasn't supposed to be that complicated.

You wanted to say no. You should say no. You knew that you’d leave feeling emptier than when you came, like you always did, yet the thought of not seeing him at all—that was even worse. You hated it. Hated yourself for it. It was ridiculous, really, how you kept giving in, knowing how things would end.

"Fine," you finally said. "I'll be there."

When you arrived at the motel, the familiar sight of Dean's black Impala parked outside brought a lump to your throat. You’d convinced yourself on the way over that you’d keep your guard up this time, that you wouldn't let him get under your skin.

But the moment you walked into that damn room and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, all your defenses began to crumble. He stood up, giving you that same tired smile you’d seen a hundred times before. "Hey."

"Hi," you echoed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying not to let your frustration show. You weren’t here to fight—not yet, anyway. But the weight of everything unsaid was suffocating you.

But Dean wasted no time, stepping toward you and pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both urgent and needy. You wanted to push him away, tell him this wasn't what you wanted anymore, but damn it, your body betrayed you. You kissed him back, letting yourself get lost in him for a moment, because it was easier than dealing with the truth.

You two fell back onto the bed, lost in each other like you had countless times before. For a little while, you could forget. You could pretend that this wasn't just about the physical, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between the two of you. But deep down, you knew better.

Dean’s body pressed more firmly against yours, his chest solid and warm as it met yours, adjusting himself just enough so that he was hovering above you. His tongue pushed gently against your lower lip before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You moaned quietly, hands finding his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck as his hands traveled down your sides, leaving goosebumps all over your body. You could feel his growing erection pressing against you, slowly grinding himself back and forth on your core. The urgency in his movements made you feel wanted, desired, but at the same time you felt empty, just wanting it to be over.

Dean tugged at the waistband of your jeans, pulling them off within a matter of seconds before he freed himself from his own clothes, leaving you both bare. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled, the words leaving his lips almost unconsciously. Of course he thought that you were stunning, but maybe it meant a lot more to you than he realized.

You inhaled sharply as you felt Dean’s finger teasing your entrance, smirking as he felt how wet you’ve gotten over the course of a few seconds. You surely couldn’t deny the fact that he turned you on.“Soaked already?” He chuckled, making you nod hastily.

Grabbing your hips he secured you onto the mattress, pressing you down gently before he pushed his aching tip past your entrance, a loud moan escaping your lips. Your walls clenched around him almost immediately, making him groan.

“Fuck sweetheart, that tight cunt ‘s sucking me right in.”

You let out another moan, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his cock filling you up to the brim, a perfect fit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he almost pulled himself out completely before slamming right back in, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Hngh..shit—“ you hissed, your nails digging into his back, skin slapping against skin echoing through the motel room. Dean's hand moved to cup your ass, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust, craving every single inch of your body. As he continued to fuck you at a steady pace you felt yourself getting closer, clenching around his thick cock.

Dean was quick to redirect his hand in between your bodys, finding your clit, and circling the sensitive nub to drive you completely over the edge. You could feel your body tensing up, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. “Dean, I’m gonna—“ you whined out before the band in your stomach snapped, cumming hard all over his cock.

"That's it, baby.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, not even noticing the little petname that had slipped past his lips. He gave you a few more hard thrusts before letting out a loud groan himself, feeling his dick twitch as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum, and leaving both of you breathless.

Dean fell down beside you in the quiet aftermath, the soft glow from the motel's flickering light casting shadows on the walls, staring up at the ceiling like he always did. It was so routine by now that you could almost predict his every move.

But tonight, something felt different. The silence between you was heavier than usual, and you felt a knot forming in your chest. You waited for him to say something, anything, but when he finally spoke, his words cut through you like a knife.

"You’re so good at this stuff. It’s like you were made for it.”

You froze. Made for it? Your heart sank. The casualness of his words, the thoughtless way he dismissed whatever connection you two had, made you feel sick. You sat up quickly, eyes burning with anger and hurt. "That's all I am to you? A fucking hooker?” Dean turned to you, clearly confused. "What? That’s not- Why are you suddenly acting like this?"

Your anger was burning up, but so was your pain. It wasn't just this moment; it was all of it. Everything you’d been holding back for so long, everything you’d swallowed down, was bubbling to the surface. "Why wouldn't I act like this, Dean? Last time we met, we literally had dinner with your brother, and you fucked me in the bathroom like some random slut who’s hopping on anyone’s dick. And now you wonder why I'm bitter?"

Dean blinked, caught off guard. "That was just... it wasn’t—You know how it is with us." He babbled. "No, Dean," you shot back, voice shaking. "I thought I knew how it was. But apparently, I've been fooling myself this whole time. I hate that I let this drag on so long, and now, I hate myself for it."

Dean sat up, running a hand through his hair. This was exactly what he was afraid of. "I thought we were on the same page here, y/n.”

This was just how things were, right? Casual. No complications.

"I'm not just someone you can call when you're bored or need to get out of your head," you continued, voice breaking. "I deserve more than that, and the fact that I've let this go on for so long—it kills me. Because I hate that I've let myself care about someone who clearly doesn't care about me."

Dean's heart sank at your words. He'd always known you were more than just a quick fix for his demons, but hearing it laid out like that? It stung. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't know how to fix this. "y/n...I-" Dean began, his voice soft, almost pleading. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I didn't—"

You cut him off, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. "It doesn't matter, Dean. What's done is done. I just... I can't keep doing this. Not like this."

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Dean stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. He wanted to say something, anything to make it right, but the truth was, he didn't know how.

But what he knew was that the thing between you two wasn’t as casual as he pretended it to be, and that scared the shit out of him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

You stood up, heart pounding in your chest as you began putting on your clothes. You couldn't stay here—not when everything felt so raw, so exposed. Dean watched you, the guilt etched on his face, but he didn't say anything to stop you.

"I need to go," you said quietly, pulling on your jacket and heading for the door. You could feel his eyes on you. "y/n.." Dean called after you, his voice almost too faint to hear.

You paused at the door, your hand resting on the knob, and for a brief second, you thought about turning back, thought about giving him one more chance. But you didn't. Instead, you opened the door and walked out, leaving Dean alone in that empty motel room.

He sat there, staring at the door long after it had closed, the weight of everything he hadn't said pressing down on him like heavy rain. He had no idea if you’d come back. And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he wanted you to. Because you deserved better than what he had to offer.

coming from first hand experience 😁 anyways..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @deansbite @figthoughts @deansenvy @chevroletdean @rubyvhs @sugardean @figurantedefilme @cosmicanakin @sammyluvr @nuemanfilms @titsout4nicholas

[bombsonboard]

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 2)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"

"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."

Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"

"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.

"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."

"Vel—"

"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"

"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."

"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."

"I'm not hiding—"

"Bullshit!" She growled.

Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.

After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."

She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."

Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.

****

Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.

His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.

Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.

"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."

Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?

But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"

Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."

"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"

Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.

"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.

"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?

"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."

By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."

He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.

"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.

"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.

"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"

She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."

Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.

You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.

And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.

"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.

"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.

****

"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.

Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.

"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"

"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."

"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.

Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."

Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.

"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.

"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.

"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.

"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"

"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"

 "Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"

"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."

"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.

"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"

"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"

"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.

"I'll kill him first."

"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.

"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.

"You what?" you snapped.

"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"

The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.

"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"

"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"

Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."

"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"

"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."

You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.

"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."

Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.

"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.

****

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah

[eli-com]

୧ *·˚ — JUDD BIRCH

୨୧ includes — poor writing, mature content, fem!reader, afab reader, innocent?reader, virgin!reader, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f!receiving), praise, ooc!Judd, fingering, masterbation

➜ a continuation of this

— Judd was sure he’d finally gone crazy, finally reached that point of insanity where there was no going back. Many would have thought he’d reached that point a long time ago, but no; this was his rock bottom.

Hefty, deep pants filled the bedroom, the sound of slick movements vibrating off of his four walls. How long had he been at this now? How long had his veiny hand been dragging eagerly along his rock hard cock for? How many times had he come? He couldn’t remember when or how it had started — just that there was only one person to blame for the painful state he was in, and that person was you.

You and your adorable little moans, you and your perfect tits, you and that pretty pussy of yours. You, you, you! You were the only thing his mind could seem to focus on, every-time he closed his eyes another picture of you would appear, he’d found that his favourite so far was the memory of what you looked like above him when he had tongue ravaging your cunt, your lashes fluttering against those rosy cheeks, chest heaving with each breath, glossy lips parted and ever so tempting. He wondered what they’d look like wrapped around his cock, god how he wanted to find out. Would you be able to take his whole length in your mouth? He kind of hoped not; hoped that you’d struggle so he could watch as drool ran down your chin whilst you gagged pathetically, eyes welling up with tears. Fuck.

“Stupid bitch.” He’d groan out as his hips jerked up, another orgasm fast approaching, his hand movements getting sloppy. He’d fucked other girls before, plenty of other girls, but once the deed was done he never cared enough to spare them a second thought, so why would you not just fuck off and leave him alone? He’d lay in bed at night and sometimes he swore he could still hear you moaning his name, telling him how badly you needed him in that breathless voice that made his cock twitch. Maybe it was because somehow, you’d made him cum without even a touch to his groin, made the moody rebel embarrassed for the first time in his life. Or maybe it was because of that shy smile you’d given him when he’d walked you home that day, the way your arms wrapped around his torso when you gave him a quick hug before rushing into your house and locking yourself away from him. A choked moan would escape him as he felt himself release into his hand once again, sensitive red tip throbbing, whole body practically shaking as he threw his head back, brows scrunched together in ecstasy.

“She’s got you real good, huh?” That familiar raspy voice filled the room, causing the pale boy to curse under his breath as he calmed down from his high, eyes staring straight up at the ceiling above him that was covered in all kinds of marks; mostly from when he used to throw tantrums as a child and throw knives up into it, waiting to see which would fall first and imagining them landing on someone who had pissed him off recently — even as a child he’d always had his enemies. Although he did his best to ignore the annoying, needy call of his hormone monster, there was never any avoiding Maury, the furry creature leaning over him and offering a knowing grin. “What you thinking about?” He’d raise his brows comically. “You thinking about (y/n)? Thinking about her tits? Her ass? God, imagine the view of taking her from behind, wait, but then imagine taking her in missionary too, god you’d never get bored, would you? Bet you she’s flexible, think of all the positions you could try!” The sex-driven monster would drone on, now pacing around Judd’s room as the boy rolled his eyes and stood up, finally pulling his underwear back on after what he guessed had been at least an hour of ‘taking care of himself’.

“Don’t you have other horny freaks to bother? Get the hell out of my room.” He’d grumble as he threw on some grey jogging bottoms, letting them hang loosely on his hips as he made his way towards the door, looking forward to getting out of the stuffy room. However, his plan was soon paused when Maury jumped into his path, a look of concern on his face.

“Wait! Why cut this party short?! We can keep going — I’m sure you could come up with some more ideas on how you’d like to fuck (y/n)! Oh, what if you used a knife, think she’d like that? Bet she’d be into it, what do you think?” The monster was clearly excited, he’d never seen Judd so infatuated with someone before, it was new. Though, Judd didn’t seem to reciprocate the feeling, only offering a roll of his eyes as he passed the taller creature by, escaping into the hallway as his hormone monster finally took the hint and left him alone — Maury knew better than to pester Judd for too long.

He could already hear the excited chatter of his parents and sister as he descended the stairs, holding back a groan of annoyance at their chirpy tones; always so happy. The trio were gathered in the kitchen, his dad cooking whilst his mum and sister sat at the kitchen counter. His dad was the first to notice him, a joyful smile appearing on the older man’s lips as he extended his arms into the air with a spatula still in hand, making his way over to his eldest child in an attempt to trap him in a hug. Judd would grunt, brows furrowing in annoyance.

“Touch me and you’re dead, old man.” He’d threaten, voice especially hoarse, likely from his previous activities. His dad only nodded in response, backing up again, smile never faltering; he respected personal boundaries! His parents were always in a good mood, but something was off today, something was happening. “What’s got you freaks so enthusiastic?” Judd liked to feign disinterest when it came to most things, but sometimes his curious mind simply got the better of him.

“Your sister’s bringing a friend we’ve never met before over for a sleepover, isn’t that exciting! A new person to share our love with.” His dad would answer before anyone else even got the opportunity to open their mouths, he had always been a very excitable man. Judd could only roll his eyes at this, stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice. His sister was constantly having friends over, and most of them were desperate losers who threw themselves at him whenever Leah wasn’t looking.

“So what? They’ll probably see the way you act and run for the hills within the first ten minutes of being here.” A scoff would leave his lips as he brought the carton up to his mouth, beginning to drink the orange juice. Leah would grimace at this, muttering something about how she couldn’t touch that now, not wanting to share his bacteria. He’d grin, if there was one thing in this world he loved, it was pissing off his siblings.

“You shouldn’t be so negative, Judd!” His mother would scold, glaring at him momentarily before turning back to his sister. “(y/n) sounds like a lovely girl! I’m sure she won’t be one to judge, besides, I’ve ordered Nicky not to leave his room unless it’s something important and me and your father will be in our room enjoying each others company.” She’d reach over the counter, taking her husband’s hand into her own as the lovesick couple grinned at each other. Judd and Leah shared a look of disgust, immediately knowing what ‘enjoying each others company’ meant. However, after a short minute, something in Judd’s mind would switch on.

“(y/n)’s the one staying over?” Leah looked confused at his question, arms crossed over her chest as she analysed his dishevelled state. She could tell something was up with her brother, as much as he tried to hide most of his emotions, every so often he’d slip up. “How d’you know her? She’s in my grade.”

“We’re in the school choir together? Plus she’s popular, Judd; not that I’d expect you to know anything about that… Loads of people know her.” The blonde girl would answer, leaning forward onto the counter infront of her. Their parents were now watching the interaction, Diane eyeing her son with a curious grin.

“Are you close with her, Judd?” The ginger woman would tilt her head ever so gently to the side in question, clearly noting something was up with her son. Judd could tell she knew something had happened, his mum could figure him out in seconds without even a word from him. He could only glare at her, practically slamming the juice carton down onto the counter in front of him.

“No, too up her own ass.” He’d lie, him and his mother stuck in a tense staring contest as he watched her eyes cloud over with interest. However, it was soon interrupted with a scoff from Leah.

“As if she’d ever go near someone like you anyways.” Judd couldn’t help but grin at the irony of the comment, chuckling under his breath as he took one last swig of the orange juice before placing it back into the fridge. All his family could do was eye him in curiosity, clearly Diane was the only one who’d figured him out, even if she wasn’t sure just how far things had gotten; she knew something had happened. “Just don’t be a freak tonight and stay in your room like you always do, that’s all I ask.” Leah would plead, clasping her hands together in-front of her, seeming almost desperate.

The boy would offer a grunt in response, giving a nod before wondering off back upstairs towards the bathroom, ready to take a cold shower. “Why would I wanna be around you anyways?” He’d shout back.

— You’d arrived at the Birch home sooner than anyone had expected, adorned in a pretty white off the shoulder jumper and some bootcut blue jeans. Judd had spotted you exiting a car, awkwardly hugging the guy driving it before walking up to the door of his home. He hadn’t bothered going back downstairs yet, and in all honesty he wasn’t sure if he should. What would happen if he did go down there? Would you freak out? Would you act like he didn’t exist? He had no clue.

He’d had his dinner upstairs that night, sharing with his raccoons before they scurried off through his window, probably off to hunt for something to give him in return like they usually did. He’d shut the window behind them, grabbing his plate and exiting his room — it was around twelve AM by now, and he’d heard you and Leah go off to her room a few hours ago.

The house was silent and dark, white light of the kitchen flickering on as he flipped the switch before tossing his plate into the sink and beginning to pour himself a glass of water. Judd was always aware of his surroundings, so he immediately turned around in slight alarm when he heard bare feet padding against the kitchen tiles. There you stood in the doorway, now dressed in a vest and some plaid pyjama bottoms, clearly surprised to see him, nervousness already taking over your smaller frame.

“Sorry — didn’t know anyone was down here, just wanted a glass of water.” Your voice was so shaky, breathless. The air had quickly become tense, the two do you staring at each other as if afraid to say anything else. After a few moments he’d clear his throat, sliding the glass of water he’d made for himself over the counter towards you before turning back to make his own. You’d whisper a thank you as you took it into your hands, only receiving a grunt in return.

You hadn’t left after getting your drink, remaining stood by the counter as you sipped on your water. He’d grumble something under his breath before finally turning, his own glass of water in his hands as he leaned back against the sink, eyeing you over. He couldn’t help the way his eyes naturally gravitated over to your chest, tits poking out of the top of your vest as if to tease him, feeling his dick twitch in his sweatpants.

You weren’t stupid, you could see him eyeing you up, as if he hasn’t eaten for weeks and you were some kind of buffet that had been laid out for him. However, you simply didn’t have the guts to make a move, still unsure where you and Judd stood around each other. Sure, only a few days ago he’d had his mouth attached to your clit, fingers moving inside of you, but did that really mean anything? To you it did, but you knew Judd Birch — you knew how he didn’t want to be tied down, how he’d never slept with the same girl more than once, and although you hadn’t actually slept together, what if just making you fall apart on his hand was enough for him?

A naive part of you hoped that wasn’t the case, hoped that maybe he did like you, maybe what happened in that closet wasn’t just an ‘in-the-moment’ thing, but the realistic part of you knew better than that. That was why you didn’t allow yourself to think about it too much, drowning yourself in schoolwork and friends; but that could only last so long, and when you laid awake in bed at night, his face was the only thing you thought of. You’d tried to get yourself off, release the tension that had built up inside, but you just couldn’t — you could never reach the spots he did, never keep the right pace, it was all wrong.

“Where’s Leah?” You hadn’t been expecting him to keep talking to you once you’d gotten your water, imagining that he’d take his own drink and shove past you. But here he was, leaning against the counter behind him and staring at you as he waited for you to respond. Although he’d been previously eyeing you up, when Judd spoke he looked at you, not your chest or your ass — he looked you right in the eyes. Sure, it’s the bare minimum, but so many guys at school couldn’t even look you in the eyes, so this felt like something special.

“She fell asleep while we were watching a movie… Tried to wake her up but I guess once she’s out, she’s out.” You’d try joke, laughing nervously as you shrugged your shoulders, but Judd didn’t laugh along. Instead his face remained in the same stoic expression it always did, eyes glued to your own.

“Who’s the guy that dropped you off?” He’d ask. This surprised you, and you made no attempt to hide it in the way your brows raised, lips ever so slightly parted. Had Judd been watching you when you’d gotten here? This was the first time you’d seen him all day, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been somewhat disappointed at his lack of presence. It was embarrassing, but when Leah invited you over for a sleepover, the first thing you thought of was Judd — being in such close proximity with him again. Just being around him now had your stomach in knots.

“Felix?” You’d question, head tilted ever so slightly to the side in confusion. Judd would simply shrug; feigning disinterest. “He’s just a new friend… We were all studying over at his house and he offered to give me a lift.” Judd’s eyes would somewhat narrow as you spoke, his grip on the counter he was leaning on tightening, knuckles going white.

“You gonna fuck him?” His words almost had you choking on air, eyes blown wide as you placed your water down. Surely he was joking, teasing you for some strange reason? But you could see he was serious, see how his jaw tensed, how he placed his own glass down, muscular arms involuntarily flexing with each movement. He looked angry, jealous even.

“No? What… Where did that even come from? I hardly know the guy! He just offered to give me a ride here because it was a long walk.” You could feel your face turning a deep shade of red, voice shaking and throat suddenly dry. If things hadn’t felt tense before, they definitely did now. By now Judd had made his way around the island counter that stood between you both, one hand resting on the cold marble as he stared down at you, brows raised as if he didn’t believe you. “I’m serious! I’m not- you know I’m…” You’d trail off, eyes trained on the floor below you, suddenly too afraid to meet his eyes.

“He wants to fuck you, could see it when he looked at you.” He’d state in that monotone voice of his, some hair falling in-front of his now hooded eyes. The air between you both felt thick, and before you knew it he’d captured your chin between his finger and thumb, lifting your face up until your eyes met his. “You wanna fuck him too?” A shaky breath escaped your lips as you shook your head ‘no.’ A satisfied, cocky grin would appear on his lips for a quick moment before it was gone again. “Good girl…” His thumb would move to caress the side of your face, tracing over your cheekbone soothingly. “Been thinkin’ about you…” His hand made its way to your hair, fingers running through it before he was suddenly yanking on it, causing your head to fall back, now staring straight up at his face as it hovered over yours, a pained yelp leaving you. “D’you think about me?”

“Yes.” You’d whimper, taking in a deep breath and swallowing saliva in an attempt to soothe your throat. “Think about you all the time…” The words left your lips without a single thought behind them, but even if you lied Judd would be able to tell, and that would only piss him off more. “Cant help it.”

Judd couldn’t help the chuckle that left him at your pathetic tone, leaning ever so slightly closer so you could feel each breath that left him fan over your face. “What do you think about me, huh?” He’d dip his head so his nose would run along the side of your face, until his lips traced over the shell of your ear and he began to nibble on it, a sharp gasp leaving you as you tensed. “Think about me touching you?”

“Yes.” You couldn’t help the loud whine that left you when his lips travelled down to the column of your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and eagerly nipping at it. “Think about your hands, they’re so pretty Judd.” He’d grin into your neck, hands moving to grip at your waist and pull your body closer to his own. They’d dip under the fabric of your pyjama pants and panties, thumbs rubbing over the skin of your hips as he bit harshly into your throat this time, a sensual moan leaving you. “Want more of you Judd… wasn’t enough before.”

He’d scoff, pulling away from your neck and admiring the red marks he’d left behind, imaging the bruises that were soon to appear. “Not enough? You think you deserve more?” His hands would slowly run up and down your hips and thighs before he was harshly grabbing at your ass, groping it between his fingers and causing you to whimper. “Greedy girl, huh?” He’d mock.

“Please…” Your voice was whiny and breathless, hands moving to cling onto the fabric of his vest, you felt as if your legs could give out at any moment. Before you could continue speaking, Judd had finally attached his lips to your own. The kiss was hot, fast-paced and desperate, teeth against teeth and tongues almost immediately invading each other’s mouths. His hands had hooked under your thighs and lifted you up to sit on the counter by now, and even through your pyjama bottoms you were able to feel how cold the marble was, but it was a nice contrast to how hot the rest of your body felt.

One of Judd’s hands would slide up to your neck, thumb running along the curve of your jaw as he pulled you closer into the kiss, your nose brushing against his — you were more confident this time, had a better idea of what you were doing, tilting your head softly to the side and running your own hands down his stomach until they reached the bottom of his vest. You’d begin to pull it off, separating from the kiss momentarily and carelessly throwing the material somewhere behind you. Judd of course took the opportunity to take your own shirt off, practically growling as he felt your nails rake over his chest.

Soon enough he’d pushed you back so you were now laying down on the counter, legs dangling off the edge as you stared up at the ceiling, chest heaving with each deep breath you took. You could feel Judd run his hands over your sides before he was reaching under you to unclasp your bra and toss it elsewhere along with the both of your shirts. The cold air of the kitchen had your nipples pebbling, Judd’s thumb brushing over one before he toyed with it between his fingers, causing you to let out a short sob as your back arched. He couldn’t get enough of how sensitive you were. His lips soon attached to one of your tits, teeth grazing over your nipple and tongue teasing it as his other hand groped at the other mound, making sure both got some attention. He’d continue to alternate, groans leaving him each time your hands tugged at his hair, those angelic sounds that left your lips making him grind his erection into the side of the kitchen counter, desperately searching for friction.

He’d begin to trail his kisses between the valley of your breasts before travelling lower towards your stomach and then to the skin just above the top of your pyjama pants. You waited with anxious breaths, staring down at him with those needy eyes, begging him to fuck you with just a look. “You want me to make you feel good?” He’d raise his pierced brow, hands now placed on either one of your thighs, holding your legs apart for him. You were soon nodding without a second thought, whines leaving you as you reached down to try pull off your own pyjama bottoms. He’d scoff with a grin, reaching a hand up to your heat and placing his hand over it before slowly applying pressure with his palm. “Right here?” He’d ask.

“Yes! Yes, please Judd — want all of you, want your mouth, your cock-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to your thigh, the skin surely already gaining a red hue, a sharp gasp leaving you. Judd was grinning, hand now caressing the area he’d slapped.

“Such naughty words coming from the princesses mouth; what would everyone else think if they heard the things you’re saying to me, huh?” He’d tilt his head to the side as he asked, not waiting for your answer as he began to pull your pyjama bottoms down, revealing the pretty pink lace panties you wore beneath them. Judd was eagerly leaning in, licking a stripe up your panties and groaning at the taste of your juices that had covered the thin material, the wet patch they’d left only getting darker and it mixed with his saliva. The gesture had you squirming, one of his hands placed onto your hip to hold you in place as the other held onto your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him as he hooked your legs over his shoulders.

By now he was practically making out with your clothed cunt, sucking on your cotton panties in an attempt to make the most of every drop of slick you’d left on them. You had to place a hand over your mouth to stop the sobs of pleasure that threatened to leave from travelling around the Birch household. His parents were right upstairs, Leah in her room asleep, and you were pretty sure his little brother was in his room too. Any of them could come downstairs and see you both, but for some reason that only seemed to add to your arousal.

Just as you felt that familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, Judd had stopped, pulling his mouth off of you and placing his hands on either side of your body on the counter, dark eyes staring at you lustfully. You were going to open your mouth to say something, but then his hands were grabbing you once again, dragging you back to the edge of the counter and leaning over you, harshly grinding the bulge that had formed in his sweatpants over your clothed pussy, the wet material staining his own. You could tell he was big just from that, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your back arched off of the counter. “Please, Judd I need it so bad, god, please.” You’d pant, and Judd would only hum in response.

“Gonna fuck you in my bed.” He’d state firmly, hooking his hands under your thighs as you sat up, lifting you off of the counter and into his arms, your legs hooking around his waist as you wound your arms around his neck. “Good girls deserve a bed, don’t they?” He’d question in that low tone that always somehow made your knees weak. You nodded along dumbly, simply overexcited at the idea of finally losing your virginity — and to Judd of all people.

He carried you up to his room pretty quickly, taking note of the clothes strewn across the kitchen and making a mental note to return for them later on. In a flash you were laying back on his bed, watching him slowly pull your panties off of you, placing the material onto his bedside table before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, a tiny whimper vibrating in your throat. He’d laugh breathlessly into your cunt, inhaling your scent before finally attaching his lips to your clit and flicking his tongue over it, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked on the bud. You couldn’t help the way you aggressively yanked on his hair, causing him to let out a groan that vibrated against you and had you throwing your head back in pleasure, legs squeezing around his head as if fearful he’d pull away again. However, he made no move to stop you, as if he enjoyed being trapped between your legs, mouth attached to your cunt.

His fingers soon joined his mouth, running through your folds and collecting your juices before his thumb was circling around your entrance, hole clenching around nothing as it attempted to drag him inside. He didn’t wait long, soon inserting one finger into you and sighing at the way you tightened around his digit. He couldn’t fucking wait to be inside of you.

His finger set a steady pace as it moved, and soon enough a second one had joined it, both pumping in and out before curling to find that spongy spot that made your back arch and brows knit together, a guttural moan passing your lips as your body did it’s best to grind against his mouth and fingers. He’d run his tongue through your folds, collecting your juices and humming as he swallowed them. His fingers began to ever so slightly pick up their pace, twisting inside of you and causing your entire body to jolt and writhe on the blanket beneath you, your face contorted with pleasure and mouth agape as strings of moans left you. As if Judd could tell you were almost at your limit, he’d pull his mouth off of you, pace of his fingers slowing down and causing you to whine, eyes meeting his before dropping to watch the way his tongue darted out of his mouth to collect the juices covering his lips.

“You sure you think you can handle me?” He’d grin, leaning up to hover over you, placing short kisses over your breasts before he met your lips with his own, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “It’s okay to change your mind.” He’d mumble into your lips, and despite the intimacy of the situation, you could tell he was serious — he wanted to know you were sure.

You’d grind your hips up into his own in response, holding in your breathless giggles as you felt his hips instinctively buck into you, clothed groin pushing into your sensitive cunt and causing you to shudder with desire. “Yes, want this — want this with you.” You’d confirm, and immediately Judd was pulling his sweatpants down, revealing the lack of underwear underneath; he wouldn’t even admit to Maury how hard he’d gotten just from seeing you in his driveway earlier, immediately rushing off to his room to sort it out. One of the main reasons he hadn’t left his room was fear that he’d see you and get a painful erection in-front of his entire family…

You couldn’t help the gasp that left you at the sight of his cock, thick and veiny as it curved ever so slightly to the side. Although this was the only one you’d ever seen, you were sure he was thicker than average, just about the length you’d imagined too, tip an aggressive pink and already leaking pre-cum. You’d reach forward, thumb swiping some of the pre-cum off and bringing it into your mouth, the movement almost instinctive. Judd could only groan as he watched, quickly reaching over to his bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer, eagerly sliding it over himself.

Soon enough his own hand moving up to caress the side of your face as the other took hold of his length, prodding the tip against your entrance, the both of you moaning as you fluttered around nothing. Then he was moving forward, slowly sinking inside of you, brows furrowed as he tried to contain his pleasure, your velvety walls squeezing him and doing their best to pull him further in. “Fuck.” He’d mumble, eyes travelling back and forth between your face and your cunt, absorbed in the way your features morphed with pleasure as he moved.

“It’s too big…” You’d squeal, throwing your head back as your hands clamped down on his forearms, back arching off of the bed as you felt pain rise in your stomach. Tears would sting at your eyes, the stabbing pain spreading further. Judd would immediately stop moving, only making you whine as you continued to writhe below him.

“You want me to stop?” He’d move his hand up to your stomach, thumb running just over where he could see a slight bulge in your tummy, caressing the skin in a soothing manner. His other hand brushing your hair off of your forehead. You couldn’t help but think about how strange this was, you’d never seen Judd so caring… Well, not since your ‘moment’ in the school janitors closet. A warm feeling spread over you as you as you watched him stare down at you with more concern than you’d ever seen on him before in his eyes. Just that look had you shaking your head, hand reaching up to pull his head down to yours and connect your lips once again, the boy humming into your mouth.

“Don’t stop.” Before you’d even finished speaking, Judd has bottomed out in you, balls hitting your ass and tip just about poking at your cervix. The both of you took a moment to deeply breathe in sync, staring at each other as he now placed his arms on either side of your head, noses ever so slightly brushing against each other. It didn’t take long for that painful sting to disappear, and now you just felt full, beginning to grind your hips up in an attempt to create some friction. Judd would tightly grab at your hip, doing his best to hold himself back from moving inside of you. If he could have it his way he’d be pounding you into the mattress by now, not stopping until neither of you would be able to leave the bed, but he wanted this to be a good first time for you. “Please move…” You’d beg desperately. “Want you to move, wanna feel it.”

He’d start off slowly, languidly pulling out, a long moan leaving you, before he thrusted back in, muffling his own moan by biting down into your neck harshly, definitely leaving a mark behind. His fingers bruisingly dug into your skin, rubbing circles as he continued to move back and forth, gradually beginning to pick up his pace. He could feel you squeeze around him with each thrust, the way your body did its best to meet his thrusts. Before he knew it he felt his own release approaching, causing him to stop moving out of panic. “Shit, stop — fucking, stop fucking moving.” He’d grunt.

Your hips would stop their grinding movement against his, worried eyes staring up at him as his own closed, nose scrunching as if in pain. Concern immediately rose within you, had you done something wrong? Did he not like it? This was a stupid idea, why had you done this?-

As if sensing your concern, Judd would lean down and place a kiss to your nose, heavy breaths fanning over your face as he adjusted on his forearms. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s just, you’re so fucking tight, don’t wanna cum too early.” He’d pant against your cheek, placing another gentle kiss there before pulling away to look at you, reassurance in his eyes. “You’re doing so good, taking me perfectly, just relax.” He’d almost coo at you, one hand running through your hair before he slowly began to rock his hips again, shaft leisurely running against your walls, your back once again arching, face contorting with pleasure.

The veins that ran along his shaft caressed each crevice perfectly, as if you’d been made to fit him, tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each slow but harsh push. The two of you moved in sync, your own body more relaxed now, every so often giving him a gentle squeeze as you felt him twitch within you. Judd didn’t really moan, more often just letting out deep grunts and groans or uttering words of encouragement, face hard and focused, small beads of sweat dripping off of him. The moment was almost romantic, intimate, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes not daring to leave each others as your bodies moved as one. One of your hands would join his by the side of your head, fingers interlacing as his pace slowly began to speed up once again.

His hips were snapping into yours eagerly by now, desperately chasing your release as he watched you tense under him, your eyes closed, mouth agape as moans left one after another. This was just like what he’d imagined, if not better. He wanted to take in every pretty expression you had to offer, commit every sound you made to memory incase he didn’t get the chance to hear them again. He could feel his own high building up within him, but he was determined to get you there first, determined to watch you come undone beneath him again.

“Judd! ‘M gonna — gonna cum!…” You’d cry out, and he could feel you shaking beneath him. Before you knew it he’d placed his hands under your knees, pushing your legs up until they were either side of your head, the new position causing you to let out an almost pornographic moan, your head thrown back as the knot within your stomach grew tighter and tighter. The bed would creak with each harsh thrust, sounding as if it could give out at any moment. Within seconds you were coming undone around him, white pleasure clouding your vision as Judd kissed feverishly at your lips, continuing to grind into you as he chased his own high.

Soon enough he was joining you, a low grunt of your name being uttered from his lips as his pace faltered and slowed down, body dropping down on-top of yours. He’d place sloppy kisses along your jaw, hand travelling under your body as his fingers trailed along your spine, helping you to calm down as you whimpered into his ear, body hot and sensitive. The room was once again hot and stuffy, the two of you sweaty, skin sticking to each other as you wound your arms around his neck, enjoying the momentary bliss.

“Wear something that shows off your neck on Monday, want Patrick to see the marks I left on you.” He’d murmur into your skin, nose buried into your hair as he took in your scent, his own muscles relaxing as he pulled out of you, shuddering before throwing the condom into the trash can beside his bed. You could only let our breathless giggles in response, finding the venom in the way he said Patrick’s name amusing, shaking your head and gently slapping at his arm, causing him to growl into you.

You’d fallen asleep wrapped up in Judd’s arms that night, chest pressed tightly against his, nose buried into the crook of his neck as his chin sat on top of your head.

— Judd had rushed downstairs early the next morning, determined to pick up the items of clothing the two of you had previously abandoned before any of his family awoke. So far he’d found both vests, the two pieces located closer to the door, but your bra seemed to be nowhere in sight. Just when he stepped further into the kitchen, he’d spot his mother sat at the counter, a sly grin on her lips, your bra sitting on the marble.

“You’re up early, Judd… Got any plans today?” She’d ask coyly, head tilted to the side. She knew, and she knew he knew that she knew. He’d grunt, halting in-front of her as his eyes flickered between her and the pink bra on the counter.

“No, my friend just — left this the other day, dunno how it got here.” He’d grumble, quickly swiping the bra away and holding it along with the white vests in his hand. His mother would scoff, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of the coffee in her hands.

“Tell (y/n) I hope she enjoyed her stay — and let her know you’ll be driving her home.” She’d state as she watched her son turn away, his face red, fists clenched angrily. Of course he was going to drive you home, did his mom think he was some kind of player? Well, maybe he would be considered one in some terms, but no, he didn’t consider himself to be such a way… And he especially wouldn’t let you take yourself home after last nights events…

Soon enough he’d returned to his room, allowing you to get dressed, watching from his spot on his bed. He’d be lying if he said he was excited for you to leave, he’d enjoyed waking up and watching you sleep beside him, face relaxed, breaths calm. You’d stand awkwardly at the door once you were done, eyes meeting yours as an anxious smile pulled at your lips.

“I’ll see you later? I’m-” You’d trail off. “I’m excited for you to drive me home.” It sounded pathetic, but it was true, and Judd couldn’t help but agree, nodding to you and watching as you left, sneaking back towards Leah’s room in desperate hope she was still asleep. He’d throw his head back, willing sleep to overtake him, but it never came. Instead, thoughts of you popped into his mind, and once again he felt his pants tighten, a frustrated curse leaving his lips as his hand reached down towards his bulge.

[nilla03]

“𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣' 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨“

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡： 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛！

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠： 𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔，𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡， 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑔𝑒，𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛，ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛

The baby monitor cast a dim glow on your nightstand, the soft static filling the silence of your empty bed. You had just put your daughter down for the night, her tiny body finally relaxing after hours of fussing. Your body ached, exhaustion creeping into every limb, but sleep was the last thing on your mind.

Not when Armin still wasn’t home.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fingers curled around your phone, staring at the unanswered texts. Where are you? Are you coming home? Armin, answer me.

Nothing. Just like the last few nights.

Your stomach twisted as the familiar wave of resentment crawled up your spine. This wasn’t new—him disappearing for hours, showing up in the middle of the night with vague excuses. You used to believe him when he said it was work. Used to tell yourself that being the provider, the one out handling things, put pressure on him.

But you weren’t stupid. You knew what a man smelled like when he’d been around another woman.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs made you stand, heart pounding. Heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet house, his movements unhurried, like he had no reason to hide anything.

That only pissed you off more.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, you were already there, standing in his path with your arms crossed. His blue eyes met yours, and for a split second, something flashed across his face—guilt? Annoyance? He covered it quickly, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

“You’re up?” His voice was calm, like you weren’t standing there ready to rip him apart．

You scoffed. “Yeah, I’m up. Because unlike you, I’ve been home taking care of our daughter all fucking day.”

Armin exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was already tired of the conversation. “（ఌ）don’t start with this right now. I told you, I had things to—”

“Things to handle?” You took a step closer, fists clenched. “You mean someone to handle?”

His jaw tightened. “Watch yourself.”

You ignored the warning. “No, you watch yourself,” you snapped. “You come home smelling like another bitch, after leaving me here alone again—”

Armin’s eyes darkened. “I told you, it’s work.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your chest heaved, your breath sharp, but Armin just stared at you, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t even trying to deny it anymore, and that shattered something inside you.

Your vision blurred with tears as rage bubbled up, making your hands shake. Without thinking, you grabbed the first thing in reach—a picture frame from the hallway table—and hurled it at him.

“Fuck you, Armin!”

He dodged it easily, the glass shattering against the wall. His lips pressed into a tight line, but he still wasn’t raising his voice.

That only made you angrier.

“You think you can just do whatever you want?” Your voice cracked, frustration choking you. “Leave me here to raise our baby alone while you go fuck around? Do you even give a shit about us?”

Armin’s calm façade snapped.

In a flash, he had you pinned against the wall, his hands gripping your wrists. His breath was hot against your face

“Say that shit again,” he growled.

You struggled against him, but he didn’t budge. “Let me go.”

Armin let out a low, humorless laugh. "You know nothing," he muttered, shaking his head."You sit in this house and assume shit about me, but you have no fucking clue what I do when I'm out."

His eyes were dark, tired, but there was that usual mocking glint behind them, like he found this whole thing entertaining.

Your jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "You-"

"Lower your fucking voice," he hissed.

His free hand pointed toward the nursery door down the hall. "She is sleeping."

Before you could get another word in, he picked you up completely, his veiny arms manhandling you so quickly made you wince before he dropped you onto the couch, your body bouncing against the cushions as he ripped his shirt over his head. The glow from the streetlights outside cast harsh shadows over his toned chest, the dark ink of his tattoos.

You didn't get a chance to admire him before he was on you again, his hands yanking your thighs apart, his weight pressing you down into the couch.

Your hips rolled up into his, your nails digging into his biceps as you dared to push back.

"You think you can just come home smelling like another bitch and I'll just-"

Armin cut you off with a bruising kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, swallowing your words, stealing your air. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling hard enough to make your scalp burn.

"You think I touched her like this?" he taunted, lips brushing against yours, his hands roaming, gripping, possessive. "Think I let her talk back to me the way you do?"

His rough hands spread your thighs, gripping the tan inner skin so hard you could cry before rubbing his fingers beneath the soft fabric. He moved your panties to the side

Feeling how soaked you already were, how easy it was for his fingers to slip through your folds, teasing, taunting.

shoving two fingers inside you without warning, making you cry out. "You were just screaming at me, now you're dripping down my fucking hand?"

Your head turned to the side refusing to look at how pathetic you really were

"That's my girl," he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. "Always talking shit, but always taking everything I fucking give you."

You didn't even have time to respond before he was ripping your panties off, shoving his jeans down just enough to free his cock, his tip red and angry already leaking, aching to be inside you.

He spread your folds, fucking into you, his hips snapped into yours. He was so mean, one hand gripping your throat while the other pinned your wrists above your head.

"This what you wanted?" he taunted, his hips snapping against yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. "Wanted me to come home and put you in your fucking place?"

You whined, back arching, your body overwhelmed by the way he was owning you.

"Look at you," Armin sneered

“F-fuuck you armin!” You could cry at how good this felt, you let out a choked out whine while his grip was tightening around your throat, forcing you to meet his eyes.

the way your legs twitched with every deep thrust. "All you do is bitch and whine, but look at you now-taking this dick"

You glared up at him, tears burning in your eyes, but your body betrayed you. Your walls clenched around him, your thighs tightening as if to keep him from pulling away.

Armin chuckled, shaking his head. his free hand grabbing your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. "You were just throwing shit at me ten minutes ago, now you can't even think straight, can you?"

he sneered, picking up his pace again, slamming into you now, dragging a scream from your lips. "Think you get to tell me what the fuck to do? You don't run a fucking thing"

Your head was spinning, your hands twisting in his grip. "I hate you," you choked out, voice shaking.

"Yeah?" He pulled out completely before slamming back inside, knocking the breath from your lungs. "Then why's this pussy sucking me in, huh?"

You sobbed, nails digging into his arms, body shaking with every brutal thrust.

"You don't get to hate me," he murmured, voice dark, low. "You belong to me, baby. This pussy?" He grabbed your thigh, spreading you wider, fucking deeper. "Mine. That little attitude?" He dragged his lips against your ear, his breath hot. "Mine. You can scream, throw shit, slap me all you want, but at the end of the day?"

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur.

"You're still gonna let me fuck you like this."

Your body was on fire, your pride crumbling with every rough snap of his hips, with every filthy word he spat down at you.

"You gonna cry, baby?" Armin taunted, watching the way your lashes fluttered, the way your thighs trembled. "Go on. Cry for me”

Your lips parted, a choked, desperate moan escaping before you could stop it.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body still trembling from the force of everything. His body was still pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

Armin stayed there for a moment, his hands lightly gripping your waist as if to keep you in place, as if he needed to keep you there.

But then, his voice cut through the tension, low and a little rough, like he'd been holding something back the entire time.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone else”

You froze, your chest still heaving as you slowly turned your head to look at him, unsure if you'd heard him correctly.

His eyes met yours, unwavering, dark with an intensity that matched the rawness of the moment.

"You think l'd do that to you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, but the question hung in the air like an accusation.

"I've been working late," he continued, his tone softer now, almost coaxing, as if trying to ease the tension between you. "But it's been work. Nothing else. I swear."

"You sure?" you murmured, still unsure, your voice shaky.

"Yeah, baby, I'm sure."

𝑈𝑔ℎ 𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑏𝑎𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛 <3

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

could you do a long smut where Jude and Reader are dating and she's just extremely innocent and that turns Jude on, but at the same time he wants to corrupt her, he wants to protect her innocence. The reader sits on his lap or is always wearing short clothes (as she is inside the house) and he can't take it anymore... one time, they are kissing and Jude loses control, he gets on top of her and kisses her with desire and So she's all confused because she feels strange, like she's never felt before and she wants more, but Jude gets off her right away and he's so hard and the reader can't help but watch that with curiosity... they don't They talk about Aquil, but as the days go by, she notices that he doesn't want to kiss her and always pushes her away and this makes her sad and she decides to talk to him about it... he is frank with her saying that she is extremely innocent and that the things he wants to do to her have destroyed her innocence; She says she trusts him and wants to go all the way with him (even though she doesn't know exactly what to do) and then Jude takes her virginity, being extremely careful and always asking if she's sure. Reader stares in fascination upon seeing him naked for the first time and Jude can't help but be enchanted by how adorable she is. She had never felt that way, Jude's hands are all over her body and when Jude enters her, no matter how much it hurts, it makes her feel so good (please could you put dirty talk in that, I'm just a bitch about Jude being naughty and talking dirty)

I finally did it! After two weeks of writing, I’ve finished this project! This is the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I poured my heart into it as an apology for my long absence. If you notice any repeated scenes… well, that’s because I wrote this over two weeks, and my memory is about as reliable as a goldfish’s. Plus, I was way too tired to edit. I tried to stick to the request as much as I could but my imagination got carried away.

-Much love, Bianca 🌻

Inocencia

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — In which you and Jude are soulmates.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 24.2k

Warnings! FLUFF! Jude is so soft with her, he's so in love, insecurities, first love, established relationship, this is the softest thing I've ever written, slight angst for the plot (nothing serious), NSFW! SMUT (18+), corruption kink, virgin reader, first time, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f & m receiving), fingering, soft sex, multiple orgasms, dom!Jude, sub!reader, a little surprise at the end for y'all

Growing up, your life wasn’t just structured; it was scripted.

A carefully choreographed routine, every step dictated by expectations you had no hand in setting.

Your parents didn’t ask for much, just obedience, and you learned quickly that nodding and murmuring yes was easier than explaining the no lodged in your throat. Childhood wasn’t about exploration; it was about perfection. Whims were traded for polished manners, because mistakes were lessons learned the hard way.

Mornings began with perfectly made beds and meticulously crafted schedules, while evenings were reserved for review sessions of tests you wouldn’t take for weeks. Every minute of the day was accounted for, leaving little room for anything but perfection.

So you became a master of disguise.

The messy, loud, imperfect parts of you? Those were hidden away, locked behind a wall of politeness and precision. You never thought to question it. This was life, wasn’t it?

At school, the contrast was striking.

Your classmates had lives that seemed so chaotic, so mesmerisingly beautiful. At least to you. You dreamed of being like them. Of joining the dance team, of skipping class, of reading books that your mother didn't pick out for you.

They had the kind of freedom you couldn’t fathom. They whispered about parties that ended at sunrise, secret crushes, first kisses stolen under streetlights. You listened, fascinated but silent. Rules first, fun later.

But "later" had a funny way of never showing up.

And then came Charlie.

You first met her on orientation day, a whirlwind of awkward introductions and icebreakers that felt anything but natural. Later, you discovered she was your roommate.

At first, you weren’t sure what to make of her. Charlie was… a lot.

At first glance, she seemed like someone you might not click with—her energy almost too big for the room, her laugh too loud for the small spaces you preferred to inhabit. But Charlie wasn’t the kind of person you could easily dismiss. She had a way of pulling you into her orbit before you even realized it.

She was the type to breathe chaos into order, and somehow, it felt exhilarating instead of terrifying.

Her hair was perpetually tousled, like she’d just stepped out of a convertible, and her eyeliner was smudged in a way that teetered between effortlessly cool and slightly rebellious. Charlie didn’t believe in plans or schedules. She just lived.

And that scared you as much as it fascinated you.

Charlie’s world was the opposite of yours. Plans? Schedules? Those were foreign concepts to her. She moved through life with a kind of chaotic grace, unburdened by rules or the need to please anyone. It wasn’t just her confidence that drew you in; it was her freedom, the way she seemed to exist without fear of judgment.

So when she begged—insisted—you come to her boyfriend’s birthday party, you barely had time to think up an excuse. “It’s downtown,” she said, practically vibrating with excitement. “You never go downtown. You’ll love it. Or hate it. But at least you’ll survive it. Please?”

You hesitated, of course. Clubs weren’t your thing. Loud music, strangers, flashing lights—it sounded like a nightmare. But Charlie had this way of pulling you out of your shell with sheer force of will.

And that’s how you ended up there.

The nightclub was chaos incarnate.

The music wasn’t just loud—it was alive, a relentless bassline that seemed to sync with your heartbeat and vibrate in your throat. The air was thick with perfume, cologne, sweat, and the faint tang of spilled drinks. Lights pulsed like strobes, casting sharp shadows and brilliant flashes over the crowd.

You clung to the drink Charlie had handed you—something neon pink and overly sweet—sticking to the edge of the dance floor, hoping to blend into the wallpaper. But, alas.

“Having Fun!” She had shouted over the music when she found you a half-hour later. Her smile was wide, her cheeks flushed from dancing.

“Yeah!” you’d shouted back, though you were far from it. Your feet ached from heels you regretted wearing the moment you stepped outside, and your head throbbed from the bassline that seemed to shake the very floor.

Charlie didn’t buy it, but she didn’t press. She just grinned and teased, “Loosen up! We're here to partayyyy!” before spinning back into the crowd.

Loosening up was easier said than done.

You stayed, partly out of stubbornness and partly because she’d promised burgers afterward. But the crowd didn’t get any less overwhelming, and the bass didn’t grow any quieter. Soon enough, the drinks you’d nervously sipped started making demands on your bladder.

Navigating the club was its own kind of ordeal, like threading a needle through a sea of moving bodies. By the time you reached the bathroom line, you were convinced the club had been designed by sadists who enjoyed watching people suffer in heels.

And that’s when you met him.

You were half-distracted, balancing your drink in one hand while trying to make your way through the packed hallway without spilling it. Your friends had already disappeared into the crowd, and you were craning your neck, trying to spot them, when you took the corner too sharply.

It happened fast. A solid wall—or at least that’s what it felt like—stopped you in your tracks. Your drink, the bright, sticky concoction it was, jumped out of your cup, splattering the pristine white shirt in front of you.

“Ah, no!” you yelped, realizing what you’d done as you stumbled back a step. The sound of your drink hitting fabric was followed by an awkward silence.

Your eyes shot up, wide with panic. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The words tumbled out before you could think, your heart pounding like it might leap out of your chest.

The guy blinked, looking down at his now-ruined shirt, then back at you. For a split second, you braced yourself for anger, irritation, or some sharp comment that would make the whole situation worse. Like you were so used to. Your head instinctively bent, ready for the scolding you were sure you'd get.

But instead, he laughed—short and low but unmistakable.

“Guess I shouldn’t have worn white, huh?” he said, his accent soft, the words rolling off his tongue like he found the whole thing funny.

You blinked, caught off guard by his reaction. “I—uh—wait, let me—” You spun around, spotting a table nearby and snatching up a handful of napkins. Your hands were shaking as you turned back to him. Memories of fists and broken plates and your fault, your fault danced in the corners of your mind.

You pushed them away.

The napkins were gone before you knew it, your fingers flying over his shirt, trying to mop up the pink liquid. His brows furrowing in concern as he watched your panicked motions, but when he reached out to touch your wrist, you flinched.

“Hey,” he said gently, “it’s okay.” And you had to force yourself to relax into his grip. “Look, why don’t I go clean up in the bathroom real quick, and you can take a deep breath. I’m sure we can get the stain out.”

He stepped away, and you could feel your breath return in increments, your heartbeat slowing as he spoke. Your gaze followed him, watching the way his shoulders moved under the white fabric, now blotched with pink. He disappeared down the hallway, leaving you standing there, clutching a pile of sticky napkins, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

You wanted to melt into the floor, vanish into the neon lights and pounding music. Instead, you took a deep breath, like he’d suggested, and tried to shake off the lingering panic.

When he came back, his shirt was damp but clean enough, a faint pink stain barely visible. “See?” he said, grinning as he gestured to his shirt. “No harm done.”

You managed a small smile. “I’m still really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

He shrugged, the movement easy, as if he genuinely didn’t care. “It happens. You okay?”

The question caught you off guard. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “I dunno. Just… you looked kinda spooked back there.”

“Nah, I was just worried about your shirt is all.” You could feel your cheeks start to flush, a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness. “I didn’t mean to ruin it. I'm sorry.”

He grinned. “I told, it's cool. How about this,” He gestured toward the bar, where a long line snaked out into the crowded hallway, before continuing. “Next drink is on me. You game?”

You hesitated for a split second. This was the part where you should say no, walk away and find Charlie or the bathroom. This was the part where your mom would warn you against talking to strangers. And then you’d go back to your normal, structured life and forget the whole incident.

But something about him made you pause.

For some weird reason, you felt safe with him, which was strange because he was still a stranger. But then again, that’s life, right? Making mistakes? Learning by them? Trying things and seeing if they work out or not? Maybe it was time to do that.

Maybe it was time to try.

So you nodded. “Yeah.”

*******

Eight months. That’s how long it’s been, and somehow, he’s still just as captivating as the first day. Maybe even more so.

You’ve never felt anything like this before—not with anyone. The way Jude looks at you, the way he listens when you speak, it’s like he sees through the layers you’ve spent years building up. Sometimes, it’s unnerving, how easily he seems to read you, like your thoughts aren’t secrets at all, but something written in a language only he understands.

He’s everything you never thought you’d find in someone—charming in a way that feels effortless, patient when the shadows of your past make you falter, and protective in a way that doesn’t smother but shields.

It’s in the way he holds doors open without making it a spectacle, or the way his hand hovers near yours, like he’s waiting for you to reach out, to let him in. He never forces, never pushes—just waits.

And when you finally let him, it’s like coming home to something you never knew you needed.

He makes you feel precious, in a way that’s unfamiliar. His touch is careful, his words thoughtful. He treats you like something rare, something fragile—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he doesn’t want to be the one to hurt you.

And that’s a feeling you never thought you’d know.

Not after growing up in a house where fists spoke louder than words, where anger lived in every corner. Where the man who should’ve been your protector was your first lesson in betrayal.

For so long, that was all you knew. Rage masquerading as love. Pain disguised as discipline. You’d convinced yourself that was all there was, that kindness and warmth were things meant for other people, not you.

But then Jude came along. And with him, the impossible became real.

He showed you that there are more ways to love than hurt. That there are words that could comfort instead of cut, that there were hands that could hold instead of slap. That maybe—just maybe—you deserved more than what you’d gotten.

He tells you things that make you feel like a goddess, a queen, a princess. That you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. That he could stare at you all day and never get tired of it. That he’s falling in love with you, and every word makes you fall even more in love with him too.

He calls you his princess, and it doesn’t make you cringe like you think it would.

You like it.

You love him.

********

The shrill buzz of your phone pulls you from your lecture notes, dragging your attention away from the professor’s voice. You squint at the screen, the light stark against the dimmed classroom. A text from Jude lits up your screen: “I’m outside.”

Your stomach flutters, a small smile creeping onto your lips. Quickly, you tap out a reply, “Coming” before stuffing your phone back into your bag.

The professor's voice drones on, giving out last-minute details about the upcoming assignment, but your focus has already shifted. You glance at the clock, your heart ticking a beat faster. With a whispered "thank you" as class concluded, you gather your belongings in a blur of movement, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you make your way to the exit.

The crisp air outside greets you, a welcome contrast to the stuffy classroom. It doesn't take long to spot him.

Jude leans casually against his car parked by the curb, his hoodie slightly wrinkled and joggers hanging just right. The late afternoon sun catches on the strands of his messy coils, highlighting the slight curve of his lips as he catches sight of you.

“Hey,” he calls, his voice carrying over the hum of campus life. He doesn't move at first, just stands there watching you, a playful glint in his eyes that make your cheeks warm.

You wave, suddenly hyperaware of the way your bag bounces against your side as you walk. By the time you reach him, his smile has softened into something warm and familiar, and before you can say a word, he reaches out, opening the passenger door with a fluid motion.

“You’re late,” he teases, though the way he leans forward to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips told a different story.

"Am not,” you reply, your voice mock-indignant as you slip into the seat.

Jude chuckles, closing the door behind you before circling around to the driver’s side. Once he slides in, he immediately reaches for your seatbelt, the motion so casual it makes your heart skip. His fingers brushes lightly against your arm as he clicks the buckle into place. It's such a small gesture, but it carries a kind of intimacy that leaves you momentarily breathless.

“Safe and sound,” he murmurs, sitting back and adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. His gaze flickers over to you, lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You good?”

You nod, still caught in the warmth of his attention. “Yeah. You?”

“I’m better now,” he says, flashing a grin that is so unfairly charming it should be illegal. He starts the car, the low hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the speakers. “Hungry?”

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Hmm. Is that a trick question?”

Jude huffs, his smirk faltering. “Smartass.”

“Yup,” you agree, grinning back.

He shoots you a look—playfully annoyed but still affectionate—and you giggle in response. It’s the kind of thing that happens so easily between the two of you—a sense of banter that doesn’t feel like fighting, just friendly sparring. It took a while for you to get used to them.

“I can cook tonight,” you offer, reaching for your phone as he eases out into traffic. “What do you want?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want, babe.”

“Okay,” you murmur, scrolling through your messages to pull up Charlie's last text. You’d asked her if she was staying over at her boyfriend's, and she’d replied with a thumbs-up and a string of hearts. A smile crosses your lips as you tuck the phone away.

“We've got the apartment to ourselves tonight,” you say, settling back into your seat and gazing out the window. “If you still wanna come over, that is. I can make you dinner.”

Jude's smile turns languid. “You know I do, princess. I’m always up for food at your place.”

“Okay,” you murmur turning to look at the passing scene as the corners of his mouth quirk even higher.

*********

The apartment feels quieter than usual without Charlie.

Not in an uncomfortable way—just different. Her energy always filled the space, a constant buzz of chatter, music, and the occasional burst of laughter that never failed to make you smile. Without her, the silence feels oddly still, like the apartment itself is taking a deep breath.

You emerge from the bathroom wrapped in your fluffy pink robe, the one Charlie always teases you about but secretly adores. Your hair is slightly damp from your shower, loose strands sticking to your neck. The cool air from the air-conditioning brushes over your skin, and you shiver slightly as you step into the living room.

Jude is exactly where you left him, sprawled on the couch like he owns the place, phone balanced precariously on his knee.

His brows are drawn together in concentration, and his thumbs fly over the screen at a speed that seems almost superhuman. He’s clearly playing some game, utterly absorbed in whatever digital battlefield he’s dominating.

You tread softly across the room, the plush carpet muffling your footsteps. He doesn’t even glance up, so focused that he doesn’t notice you until you’re right in front of him. When you settle onto the couch beside him, the cushion dips under your weight, and only then does he stir.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, his voice warm and slightly distracted. His arm snakes around your waist without hesitation, pulling you into his side. His eyes stay glued to his screen, but his lips find the top of your head in a lazy, affectionate kiss that makes your heart flutter.

“Hi,” you reply, your voice soft as you lean into him. His embrace is as familiar as it is comforting, the warmth wrapping around you and sinking into your bones. He smells like fresh laundry and that woodsy cologne he always wears, the one that lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone.

For a moment, you just sit there, tucked against him as he plays.

His body is solid, a loving strength that you’ve come to rely on without even realizing it. You let out a contented sigh, your cheek resting against his shoulder. Jude glances at you briefly, his lips quirking into a small smile as he presses another kiss to your temple.

“You smell so good, baby. Like strawberries,” he remarks, his tone teasing but fond.

“It’s my shampoo,” you mumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. His ability to fluster you with the simplest comments is as maddening as it is endearing to him.

“Smells good.” He pauses his game just long enough to tilt his head down, his nose brushing against your damp hair. “Smells like you.”

You bite your lip, the corners of your mouth twitching upward despite yourself. His charm is relentless, and even when he’s trying to be casual, it lands like a full-force assault on your heart.

For a while, the room settles into a comfortable silence.

Jude’s arm stays around you, holding you close as he continues indulging in whatever virtual madness is happening on his phone. You don’t mind.

The warmth of his body against yours, the faint clicking of his fingers against the screen, and the soft hum of the air conditioner create a soothing melody, lulling you to sleep. And for a second you forget about deadlines and responsibilities, if only for a little while.

But eventually, the nagging thought of midterms creeps back in, pulling you away from the comfort of Jude’s arm draped lazily around your shoulders. You shift slightly, sighing as reality nudges its way back in. “I should study,” you mumble reluctantly, already regretting the words as they leave your mouth. “Midterms are coming up, and I need to get a head start.”

Jude freezes mid-controller click, his focus snapping to you with a speed that’s almost comical. His brows knit together in concern as he sets the controller down and turns to you fully. “Do you need help?” he offers, his voice warm, eager, and so earnest it makes your chest ache. He sits up straighter, reluctantly moving his arm so you can wiggle free if you want to. “I could quiz you or something.”

The way his brown eyes lock onto yours tugs at you. For a fleeting moment, you consider saying yes—just to keep him close a little longer. His enthusiasm, the little crease of worry between his brows, all of it makes you want to say yes. But you’ve been here before.

You bite back a smile and shake your head. “You know how it goes when you help me study.”

“What?” His face splits into a boyish grin. “I’m great at helping.”

“You get bored,” you counter, raising an eyebrow at him.

His grin widens, the mischief in his eyes almost tangible. “I don’t get bored. I keep things interesting.”

“Interesting?” You scoff lightly, though your lips twitch at the corners. “You mean you start distracting me.”

“Distractions are good for you," he says, leaning in closer. His voice dips into that flirty tone that always seems to weaken your resolve. “Keeps your brain from overheating.”

You try to hold firm, crossing your arms as you fight the smile threatening to bloom. “Distractions,” you repeat, deadpan, “like kissing me every five minutes?”

“Only every five minutes?” he teases, his lips quirking upward. “I’m slacking. I’ll make it every two.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands as your cheeks flare with heat. “Jude, stop.”

“Why?” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he leans closer, his hand slipping over yours to gently tug them away from your face. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”

You feel your heart do a little somersault as he takes your hand, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over your knuckles. His touch is maddeningly gentle, and his gaze is soft yet playful. “Come on, let me stay. I promise I’ll behave this time. Swear on… well, on your favorite pen or something.”

“You said that last time,” you remind him, though your voice lacks the conviction you want it to have.

“And I meant it," he says with exaggerated sincerity. “But then you started doing that thing where you chew on your pen and look all smart and adorable. What’s a guy supposed to do?”

“Focus,” you say firmly, though your lips betray you by curving into a reluctant smile.

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, sending a little flutter through you. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to it.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, though his grin tells you he’s far from serious.

True to his word, he pulls himself away from you, standing and stretching lazily before grabbing his phone. But before he leaves, he leans down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss so soft and lingering that it leaves you momentarily breathless.

“Good luck, baby,” he murmurs, his voice warm and sweet. “You’ve got this.”

The soft click of the door closing behind him echoes in the quiet room, and you let out a long breath, trying to steady the racing of your heart. Even now, minutes after he’s left, his presence lingers—his touch, his whispers, his look that leaves you feeling shy and disarmed.

You force yourself to turn back to your notes, determined to focus on the task at hand. For sixty blessed minutes, you manage to keep your head down and concentrate, letting the scratch of your pen on paper drown out the memory of his teasing grin.

But, as if summoned by your thoughts, he slips back into your space without so much as a sound. You only notice him when you feel the featherlight brush of his lips against the curve of your neck. A startled gasp escapes you, and your pen stills in your hand as his warm breath fans over your skin.

“How’s the studying going?” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with playful mischief.

Your pulse quickens, and you try to muster some semblance of composure. “Jude,” you whisper, his name barely audible as your voice falters at his closeness.

“Hmm?” He hums, the sound rumbling softly against your skin as his hands settle on your waist, fingers toying idly with the hem of your pajama top.

“You’re distracting me,” you manage, though the tremble in your voice betrays your lack of conviction. You're a little thankful for the break he's forcing you to take.

“Am I?” he asks innocently, slipping his hand ever so slightly under your top, his lips now brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. You can feel the curve of his grin, knowing he’s completely aware of the effect he has on you.

You grip your pen tighter, clinging to the pretense of focus, but the heat of his palm against your skin and the teasing lilt of his voice unravel you piece by piece. Desperate for some distance, you push his chest gently, your face flaming as you turn to face him. “I’m going to cook dinner,” you declare, your tone firmer this time, though your skin betray you, burning with an unmistakable flush.

His brow arches, and for a moment, you think he might relent. But as you make your way to the kitchen, his footsteps trail right behind yours.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder, though the teasing lilt in your voice takes the sting out of the words.

“Not when it comes to you,” he replies smoothly, his grin utterly shameless as he catches up.

Once in the kitchen, you busy yourself with pulling out ingredients, determined to create a barrier between you and his relentless touching. But Jude, being Jude, is relentless in his own way. He's being very clingy today, more than usual.

As you start chopping vegetables, he edges closer, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you back just slightly against his chest.

“Jude,” you warn, your voice firmer this time as you wave the knife in a small arc in his direction.

“Dangerous,” he quips, leaning back just enough to dodge your playful swat, though he’s far from deterred. “You’re cute when you’re dangerous.”

Your lips twitch despite yourself, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, shaking your head as you try to focus on the task at hand.

He chuckles, a low, warm sound that sends shivers dancing down your spine. “Are you sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning in to whisper, “But you love it.”

“I do not,” you retort automatically, though your voice lacks any real heat.

“Liar,” he teases, and you can hear the grin in his voice even without looking.

You spin around, your cheeks warm as you glare at him—or at least try to. “I need to finish dinner. Either help or sit down.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s no hiding the amusement in his expression. “Alright, alright. What do you need me to do, boss?”

You hand him a carrot, your lips quirking into a small smile despite yourself. “Peel this. And don’t distract me.”

“Can’t make any promises,” he says with a wink, but he takes the carrot anyway, grabbing a peeler from the drawer next to you.

For a few minutes, there’s an ease of peace as the two of you work side by side. He whistles softly under his breath as he peels glancing at you every now and then, and you chop in rhythm, the sounds of the kitchen filling the space. It feels so incredibly domestic and your thoughts start to drift to a future that you don't often dare to dream.

Is this what he would be like if we're married? you ask yourself. And deep inside, a part of you aches, and longs to find out.

But then, as you reach for the salt, his hand brushes yours, and you freeze, thoughts scrambling at his touch. He’s quick to close the distance again, his lips grazing the corner of your mouth in a kiss so fleeting you almost think you imagined it.

Your breath catches, and you stare up at him, wide-eyed and utterly flustered.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and for a second, you can’t think of anything to say.

“Jude,” you manage finally, though your voice is embarrassingly breathless.

“Hm?.” His fingers trace lazy patterns over the curve of your hip, sending little shivers through your skin. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your hair, making you shiver. “In your little robe, making dinner for me. Fuck.” The last word comes out as a groan, and he buries his face into your neck.

The sensation of his breath against your skin sends a ripple through your body, leaving your muscles soft and weak. You lean into his embrace almost automatically, your palms flattening on the counter to steady yourself.

You can’t help the little gasp that escapes you as he nips at the curve of your neck, the touch sending sparks coursing through you.

You try to catch your breath, your cheeks warming with heat as your thoughts scatter. His hand trails higher up to rest on your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and you bite back a whimper. He’s being too bold, and it’s thrilling and terrifying and so, so good.

“Jude,” you stammer out finally. “We haven’t finished dinner yet.”

“I’ll survive,” he murmurs huskily, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin behind your ear.

And before you can muster up a protest, he spins you around to face him, his grip firm and demanding on your waist. His lips land against yours without warning, all heat and pressure, and your breath stutters out of you as you cling to him, unable to do anything but hold on.

The kiss turns hot and breathless so fast it leaves you reeling, his tongue sweeping into your mouth in bold strokes that leave you dizzy.

Your lips part in response, inviting him deeper, and he takes you up on the offer with a low groan of pleasure. He presses you into the counter, the kiss so urgent it feels like he needs it to survive. Your skin flushes, your body humming with a need you’ve never known before.

It’s too much. It’s like a wildfire burning out of control, and Jude, Jude, Jude.

You’re not even sure what it is that you’re craving so desperately, but you know it involves him.

And when he pulls away abruptly, it feels like being dunked into an ice bath.

Your head spins, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. Your breath is still ragged, your lips tingling, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart stutter.

It’s dark, unreadable, and you feel like prey caught in the sights of a predator—not in a dangerous way, but in a way that makes you hyperaware of every inch of your body.

Your fingers tighten on the counter behind you, grounding yourself as the silence stretches between you. He looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he steps back completely, dragging a hand over his face in what feels like frustration. The absence of his warmth hits you immediately, leaving you feeling cold, exposed, and a little disoriented.

You lower your gaze, your cheeks burning, unable to meet his eyes. The apartment feels too quiet, too still, and when you finally dare to look up, he’s gone—retreating into the living room with an almost frustratingly casual stride.

Dinner is a blur after that.

You push food around your plate, barely tasting it, too caught up in the memory of his lips on yours, the way he’d kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. It leaves you feeling equal parts flustered and thrilled, and you hate how obvious it must be. Jude, of course, notices. He keeps sneaking glances at you, his smirk growing every time he catches you looking away too quickly or fiddling with the edge of your napkin. But he doesn't say anything.

After dinner, he suggests a movie. You agree, mostly because you don’t trust yourself to say no without stammering, and before you know it, you’re in your room. The lights are dim, the glow of the screen casting soft shadows across the walls. You sit beside him on the bed, your knees tucked up to your chest, trying not to focus on how close he is.

“Relax,” he teases, draping an arm over your shoulder. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

You swat at him, your face heating up. “Jude!”

He laughs, low and rich, and you feel the sound settle in your chest. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

For a while, you focus on the movie. Or at least, you try to. Jude, apparently, has other plans. Somewhere halfway through the film, he shifts beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. You glance at him, confused, only to freeze when his lips brush against the side of your neck.

“Jude,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Hmm?” His voice is soft, playful, but there’s a heat to it that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m trying to watch,” you manage, though your resolve wavers as his hand finds your waist, pulling you closer.

“Am I distracting you?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin.

You nod, your breath hitching, but it only seems to encourage him. His kisses grow more deliberate, his hand sliding up to cradle your face as he tilts your head toward him. The movie is completely forgotten as his lips capture yours, and this time, there’s nothing hesitant about the way he kisses you.

This kiss is different than the one in the kitchen. This kiss is greedy and demanding, the type that makes you forget how to breathe. You melt into him without hesitation, your hand finding its way to his neck as he pulls you onto his lap.

He lets out a low groan that sends shivers down your spine, his hands coming to settle on your thighs. The kiss deepens, becoming something more, until the world narrows down to nothing but him. His touches are hot and firm, his mouth demanding in a way that leaves your head spinning.

It’s overwhelming.

His touch, his scent, the low hum of his voice when he whispers your name—it’s all too much and not enough at the same time. You’re hyperaware of everything: the way his hands skim your sides, the way his thumb brushes against your jaw, the way your own fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him.

When a soft sound escapes you—half gasp, half moan—he freezes. His forehead presses against yours, his breathing heavy and uneven. Still lost in the haze of lust he's started to awaken in you, your lips chase his in a desperate pathetic attempt to keep him close, and you whine when he pulls back, the sound embarrassing you to no end.

“Baby,” he murmurs hoarsely, his voice the epitome of need and restraint. “Baby, you need to stop that.”

It’s only when you look up into his eyes that you realize how affected he is. His pupils are blown, his cheeks flushed, his breath quickening as he holds your gaze. The intensity of his eyes makes your stomach clench, but the effect is different this time—different in a way that you can’t quite place.

You stare at him for what feels like an eternity, searching for something, anything, to explain the strange flutter in your stomach.

His expression is unreadable, but as you sit there, chest heaving, thighs squirming restlessly on his lap, you feel something press into your inner thigh and Jude groans again, his head dipping to rest against your shoulder.

A little noise of surprise slips out of you, and before you can look down, he's flipping you over, pinning you to the bed with a groan.

“Fuck, baby. You don’t know how good you feel,” he whispers huskily, pulling back just long enough to let you breathe. The sight of him—so desperate, so needy, and so turned on—leaves you reeling.

Your heart is pounding, your pulse frantic in your ears as your body responds to his proximity. The feeling between your legs grows slick, the sensation almost strange enough to distract you from the weight of him above.

Jude must feel the way your body tenses because his voice drops, taking on a soothing quality that makes your muscles relax against him. “Shhh, baby. It’s alright.” He leans in, his lips trailing down the side of your neck to leave featherlight kisses there. “Relax.”

But the feeling of being pinned between him and the bed is overwhelming, and before he can kiss you again, you shift restlessly, trying to escape. He lets you get away, his hands following the curve of your sides as you sit up, his gaze roving over you hungrily.

Your cheeks heat, and your hands flutter over your stomach as if trying to find a way to hide yourself. “I—” you start, but then you stop, unsure of how to finish the sentence. “I’m sorry.”

The apology slips out of you automatically, though you’re not even entirely sure what you’re apologizing for.

Jude shakes his head, a wry smile tilting his lips upward. “Don’t be sorry,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead softly. “I just…” He trails off, shaking his head again, though his smile turns into a smirk. “I want you so bad it’s driving me fucking crazy." His voice drops into a growl, his hands tightening on your thighs, and you gasp softly. "And it's—fuck. It's turning me on so much." He leans down, pressing you against the mattress once again, and your whine is audible.

“Jude…” you whisper, your voice quivering as your hands press against his chest in a weak attempt to create some distance. But your resolve falters when you meet his eyes—stormy and filled with a look that leaves you breathless. Hunger.

“Yes, baby?,” he murmurs huskily.

But you don’t get a chance to answer because his lips close over yours, pulling you into a kiss that’s everything and nothing you imagined a kiss to be. It’s urgent, hungry, and maddeningly sweet, and you cling to him without a second thought, your legs wrapping around his waist as if by instinct alone.

It feels like everything in the room blurs to nothing around the two of you, like the world has stopped turning.

The sensation between your legs turns wet, slick, and you can feel his hardness through the thin fabric of your shorts, the sensation both thrilling and overwhelming. He groans into the kiss, his hips rocking against you in a motion that leaves you gasping.

You feel so hot all of a sudden—like your whole body is on fire. Your thoughts scatter as you cling to his shoulders, his name on your lips, and it's like he's pushing you higher and higher.

The kiss becomes messy, teeth clashing, lips biting, his hands pulling at your shirt as if trying to pull it off. You’re completely lost to his touch, your body moving against his in a needy rhythm that feels like instinct alone.

But just when you think he might push you further, Jude pulls away abruptly with a sharp groan, his chest heaving as he buries his head against the curve of your shoulder. You’re left with your arms wrapped around his neck, your body trembling as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” he mutters, the word hot against your skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His body shudders, his hips rocking forward once, then twice, then he's yanking himself off you like you've just burned him.

You try to hold him closer, but he's too strong and it only seems to make him pull away harder.

“Jude?” you ask, your voice trembling as your thoughts catch up. You’re breathless, your body aching for something you don’t even know how to ask for. ��What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just rolls away from you, his hands burying in his hair as he lets out a long groan of frustration.

Your cheeks warm, but there’s something in his look, something that makes your chest flutter. It’s dark, almost possessive, and the intensity steals your breath. You open your mouth to say something—anything—to fill the silence, but before you can speak, Jude rolls to his feet, standing up with a swift motion that sends you sprawling on your back.

“I’m…” He swallows again, “I have to go,” he says, his voice thick, rough. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

You open your mouth, ready to ask why, but he’s already halfway out the door. You catch up just in time to watch him slam the front door closed behind him, the sound of his car roaring to life outside.

You stare at the closed door for a moment, blinking slowly as if you’re half-asleep. Your body still hums from his touches, your muscles soft, your heart pounding, and all you can think is: what did I do wrong?

*********

You don’t see him again for a couple of days.

It’s not unusual for Jude to be busy, his schedule crammed with training sessions, meetings, and endless obligations. But this feels different. He’s never been too busy to send a good morning text, check in with a quick call, or find some excuse to see you, even if it’s just for an hour.

Now, though? It’s radio silence.

The first day, you try to brush it off. You tell yourself that he’s probably exhausted and needs some space. By the second, the worry creeps in, uninvited but persistent. Did you do something wrong? Was it something you said? Something you didn’t say?

By the time he texts you to come over on the third day, you’ve practically convinced yourself he’s about to break things off. The idea leaves your chest feeling hollow.

When you step into his house, he greets you like always, flashing that charming grin that makes your stomach flip. But there’s something off in his posture, the way his arms wrap around you just a little too loosely.

The two of you settle on the couch, a movie playing in the background. Jude is quiet, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch but not quite pulling you in. Normally, he’d be all over you by now, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh, his lips brushing against your temple. Tonight, he’s… distant.

You bite your lip, stealing glances at him. He seems engrossed in the screen, but his jaw is set tightly, and his hand keeps flexing like he’s restless.

The movie plays on, and you feel like you’re sitting next to a stranger. Your heart pounds as you shift closer, testing the waters. His arm twitches but doesn’t move to pull you closer.

Your voice comes out soft, hesitant. “Jude?”

He hums, not looking at you.

“I missed you,” you admit, hoping it doesn’t sound as needy as it feels.

His lips twitch into a small smile. “Missed you too.” His tone is distracted, his gaze not straying from the screen.

You frown, your brow furrowing. Something’s wrong. You can feel it in the way his body tenses every time you shift a little closer. His hand tightens, loosens, tightens again, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Can I ask you something?” you start, your voice tentative. When he doesn’t respond, you clear your throat. “Why didn’t you call me this week? You’re always so busy, and I know that, but—” You trail off, hoping he’ll fill in the blanks.

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. The silence between you stretches out uncomfortably, but then his gaze shifts, and you catch the way his eyes soften as they land on you. “It’s nothing.” He reaches for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours.

You let him take your hand, but the touch feels fleeting, hollow—like he’s holding back. Your chest tightens, the ache spreading to your throat as you try to steady your breathing. You don’t want to push him, but the silence between you is unbearable.

“Jude,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “It doesn’t feel like nothing.”

He sighs, leaning his head back against the couch. “Look, I’m just busy. That’s all.”

“You’ve always been busy,” you point out, feeling the sting of rejection. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t find time to call me this time.” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your lap to hide it.

He shifts then, his body twisting to face yours, his hand cupping your chin as he forces you to meet his eyes. His expression is soft, his brows furrowing as he studies your face. “Hey,” he murmurs. “I'm sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s not your fault. I just… I was busy with some things.”

“What things?” you press, frowning at the way he looks at you like you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. “What did I do? You don’t have to sugarcoat it for me. I promise.”

Jude’s lips quirk, his smile almost wry. “I’m not trying to sugarcoat anything, baby.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His voice drops, turning soft. “It’s just hard for me to be around you.”

“Why?” you breathe out.

He hums, his nose nuzzling against your temple. “You're so… fucking innocent, baby. And you have no idea how much that fucking turns me on. I just can’t—You deserve everything, and I don't want to fuck this up.” He pulls back, his expression shifting to one of frustration. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I want to be good for you, baby.” His thumb brushes against your cheek as he whispers against your skin. “I wanna ruin you."

His words make heat pool low in your stomach, your thighs pressing together. His voice is hypnotic, low and husky, and it takes you a moment to respond. "How would you do that?” you whisper.

His pupils dilate, his lips parting. “Oh fuck.” He swallows audibly, his gaze dropping to your mouth. Jude groans softly, his hand trailing up to cup the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You don’t wanna know, sweetheart," he says, his voice thick with restraint. "I shouldn’t even be saying this."

You blink up at him, your lips parting to protest, but no sound comes out. His confession leaves you breathless, and your heart stumbles in your chest. "But I want to know," you whisper, feeling the heat of his gaze settle over you like fog.

His jaw tightens, and he leans in, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "You’re playing with fire," he murmurs, his breath warm and tantalizing against your lips. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

You don't move—can't move. It's like his words are pinning you in place with the weight of their meaning.

Jude chuckles softly, the sound low and almost reverent. "God, you’re so cute when you’re shy." His other hand moves to your waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt. "I missed you like crazy these past few days, you know that? Couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus. Just kept picturing you." He swallows thickly, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Your lips are so fucking soft, and you taste like fucking honey."

His hand cups your face, his eyes burning into yours as he pulls back enough to meet your gaze. "Do you know how many times I've jacked off this week just thinking about your mouth? About what it would be like to fuck you?" He leans in closer, his voice turning harsh. "Do you even realize how fucking sexy you are? You make me lose my goddamn mind, baby."

You don't answer. You're not even sure if you can. His words have your head reeling, your breath catching in your throat. Heat pulses between your legs, making your thighs clench and unclench restlessly.

Jude groans, his face tucking into the crook of your neck as if seeking shelter. "Fuck. See what you fucking do to me? I can't even have a conversation around you, baby. I'm fucking obsessed." His fingers flex against your skin, his hot breath gusting over your neck. "Just being this close to you is driving me crazy."

Your breath hitches, a small noise escaping you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders instinctively. His words are making you feel… something. Your brain can't quite put a name to it, but it's making you feel soft and needy and… wet.

Jude seems to notice because he freezes, his nose dipping to the side of your neck, breathing you in deeply. "Are you wet, baby?" he murmurs, the question sending a flush up your cheeks. His voice is low, dark, and it does nothing to help the ache between your legs.

You squirm against him, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the sensation. His hand cups your ass, pulling your body flush against his as he growls low against your neck.

"Answer me," he grunts, his hips pressing forward with a motion that makes you gasp.

Your head swims as if from a lack of oxygen, but you manage to whisper, "Y-yes."

Jude's whole body shudders against you , his head dropping to the crook of your shoulder as he groans again. "Fuck, sweetheart." His voice is hot against your skin, the words a mix of frustration and desire. "What did I tell you?" he murmurs almost absently. "About making me lose my fucking mind?"

The tension between you seems to grow thicker with every second that passes, and before you know it, you're being pulled onto his lap, his mouth crashing over yours in a desperate kiss. You cling to him, letting him devour you completely, and it feels like nothing else in the world matters but this.

Except he pulls away again just as quickly, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders and hold you at arm's length. You stare at him, confused, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming out in quick pants.

"Jude," you breathe out, reaching for him.

But he shakes his head, his jaw flexing with restraint as he holds you still. "No, baby. If I touch you again right now, I don’t think I'll be able to stop myself." His voice dips, growing rougher. "You're not ready for that." He leans in to nuzzle your nose, his words coming out as a soft apology against your skin. "You deserve better than me losing control like this."

You frown at his words, feeling them hit somewhere deep in your chest, but before you can find a way to respond, he pulls away and stands up. "Wait!" Your hand shoots out and drags him back to the sofa with a strength that surprises both of you.

"I—I want it. I want you to… have me." The words come out before you can take them back, but instead of being met with rejection, Jude’s eyes darken, his pupils expanding to eat up the color of his eyes. His grip tightens on your hand, and you hear him swallow thickly.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice husky and soft. "Baby, if you let me touch you like that, I won’t be able to hold back." He leans forward as if drawn by gravity, his lips grazing against yours as he murmurs against your mouth. "You want that?"

The question makes your cheeks flush, the sensation traveling down to pulse between your legs. Your stomach clenches, and you find yourself nodding, your lips brushing against his with the motion.

His soft groan vibrates through your entire body. His hand cups the side of your face with a gentleness that contradicts the heat in his eyes. "Baby," he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours. He leans back then, his expression softening, a hint of amusement tilting the corner of his lips upward. "You sure? You’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear?"

You shake your head , your breath hitching when his thumb trails over your bottom lip. "I trust you." The words slip out of you on a whisper, but they seem to mean something to him because he lets out a soft exhale.

“Fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “If you don’t stop being so fucking sweet, baby, I’m gonna fuck you on this couch, and neither of us will be ready for that.” He lets out an unsteady laugh, his words making heat spread through your body. "You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into." He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing, a small smirk twisting his lips. "But if you still want me to teach you after tonight, then I promise you that I’ll be the one to ruin you like you want." With that, he leans in and kisses you gently, the motion soft and sweet.

When he pulls back, his voice drops to a growl. “I can't wait to ruin you.” His words are so low, so full of warning that you wonder what he plans to do to you. The idea makes your pulse quicken, your stomach fluttering.

Jude leans in to press another kiss to your lips, his tongue darting out to lick at the seam of your mouth. “I’ll show you just how good it can be,” he whispers against your mouth, and then he pulls away with a soft bite to your bottom lip, leaving you breathless and wanting so much more.

He gives you another kiss that promises to corrupt, then leaves you on the couch feeling like your whole world has been flipped on its head. You wonder what the next few weeks will be like now.

********

"I want to learn how to please Jude." Is not what Charlie expects to hear from you.

You who are painfully shy and would rather hide under the covers than have a conversation about this sort of thing. So you imagine that your words catch her off guard when you approach her in your room, both of you lying on the bed side by side.

Charlie looks at you with a mixture of shock and amusement. "Well shit, girl. What brought that on?" She reaches over and puts a hand on your arm in comfort. "What happened?"

You fidget nervously. "It's just… I want to please him, and I don't know how. We've been dating for a while now, and I feel like it's time to try something new." You lower your eyes at the last part, your cheeks burning like crazy. "We've been together for so long and we still haven't done anything." You take a shaky breath. "I don't want him to get tired of me."

Charlie stares at you for a long moment, then she cracks out laughing. "Girl, you're so silly."

"What?" Your voice comes out pouty.

"Oh, come on." She chuckles. "You're being silly. There's no way in hell that Jude could be upset with you." She gives you a playful push, "Y/N, that guy is madly in love with you. He looks at you like he's obsessed. There's no chance he's getting tired of you."

You smile softly at her words, hope blooming in your chest at her confidence. "Yeah?" you ask, your tone breathless.

"Yeah." Charlie's expression softens, her voice turning gentle. "He looks at you the same way you do him. So please, stop worrying about it and just let him make the first move. Don't feel pressured into doing something you don't want to."

You nod, your brows furrowing as you look away. "That's the thing though. I do want to." Your voice drops to a whisper. "But I don't know what I'm doing."

Charlie looks at you for a second, then nods. "Ok. So what do you want to do?" She asks, her tone soft.

You look up at her, "What do guys like?" You ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You bite your lip and look away, feeling your cheeks burn.

Charlie laughs softly, the sound almost like a purr, "Ooo, Y/NNNN. Are you trying to turn me on?" She jokes. You know she's kidding because she's making that face she always makes right after telling a really funny joke.

"Charlie!" You push her with a giggle.

"What?" She pushes you back with a grin, "Come on, Y/N. If you're going to be a big girl and have sex, you should be able to talk about it."

You pout at her. "That's not fair. I ask you for help, and you're teasing me."

She chuckles and rolls her eyes with a smile, "Ok, ok. What do you wanna know?"

"Everything." You say, your face heating up even more.

"Everything?" Charlie quirks a brow, propping herself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. "Girl, that's a tall order. Are we talking the birds and the bees 'everything' or just the Jude-specific 'everything'?"

You bury your face in your hands, groaning. "This is so embarrassing."

Charlie laughs, a genuine, warm sound that makes you peek at her through your fingers. "Y/N, relax. Seriously. This is normal stuff. And you’re with Jude Bellingham, of all people. Do you have any idea how hungry he is? That man eye fucks you everytime you're in the room."

You groan again, rolling onto your stomach and burying your face in the pillow. "Stop! You're making it worse."

Charlie snorts, patting your back. "Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Let’s get serious for a sec. First of all, there’s no ‘right’ way to do anything. Everyone’s different. But if you really want to know what Jude likes, just…ask him. You already know him better than anyone else."

You lift your head slightly, just enough to look at her. "But what if I mess up?"

Charlie tilts her head, giving you a soft smile. "Y/N, you can’t mess up with someone who loves you. Jude’s not going to care if you don’t know everything. He’s crazy about you—trust me, I’ve seen it. The guy practically glows when you’re in the room. Just talk to him, be yourself, and let things happen naturally."

You chew on your bottom lip, processing her words. "I guess that makes sense. But what if—"

You’re interrupted by the familiar sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Charlie smirks knowingly. "Bet you ten bucks it’s him."

You reach for your phone, and sure enough, Jude’s name lights up the screen. Your heart does a little flip, and Charlie cackles at the way your face immediately softens.

"Go on," she says, waving her hand. "Answer it. Lover boy’s probably wondering why you’ve been ignoring him all evening."

You hesitate for a moment before swiping to answer. "Hey," you say softly, your voice a little shaky.

"Hey, love." Jude’s deep, smooth voice comes through the line, instantly putting you at ease. "What’re you up to?"

"Just hanging out with Charlie," you reply, glancing at your friend, who’s grinning like a Cheshire cat. You roll your eyes at her. "What about you?"

"Thinking about you," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Missed you today."

Your cheeks flush, and Charlie makes a gagging motion, though her grin only widens. "I… I missed you too," you admit shyly, your fingers twisting in the hem of your sweater.

"Yeah?" Jude’s tone is playful, but there’s an edge of sincerity that makes your heart flutter. "What’re you doing after Charlie goes? Can I come see you?"

Your stomach flips, and you glance at Charlie, who’s mouthing Say yes! with an exaggerated expression. "Um, yeah," you say, trying to sound casual despite the way your voice wobbles. "If you want to."

"Of course I want to," he says, chuckling softly. "I’ll be over in a bit, yeah?"

"Okay," you whisper, unable to keep the smile out of your voice.

"See you soon, love."

You hang up and immediately bury your face in the pillow again, earning a loud laugh from Charlie. "Oh my God, you’re hopeless," she teases, nudging you with her foot. "You’re like a lovesick puppy. It’s adorable."

"Shut up," you mumble, though you’re smiling. You peek at her as you sit up. "Thanks, though. You were really helpful."

She snorts. "Clearly. But seriously, just relax. Be yourself. I promise he’ll love it. And if all else fails just give him a blowjob" She ducks just in time to miss the pillow you chuck her way. "I’ve gotta go. My ride’s coming in a minute." She climbs off the bed and heads over to the dresser to grab her phone. "I think I left my keys downstairs. Tell Jude I said hi."

"Will do," you say, smiling softly.

She waves before heading out the door and leaving you alone. You sink back into the covers, trying not to let your nerves get the best of you.

**********

A half hour later, you’re pacing in front of the living room door, your nerves bubbling up with every step. You keep glancing at the clock, willing the minutes to tick faster and slower all at once.

Your hands feel clammy, and you’re acutely aware of every tiny sound in the apartment—the hum of the refrigerator, the distant chatter of your upstairs neighbors, the soft patter of your socked feet against the floor. You’ve checked your reflection in the hallway mirror at least five times, brushing nonexistent lint from your sweater.

When you finally hear the familiar, rhythmic knock that signals Jude’s arrival, your heart skips a beat. You nearly trip over your own feet as you hurry to the door, pulling it open so quickly that Jude looks startled for a split second before his expression melts into that devastatingly familiar grin—the one that never fails to make your stomach flip.

"There’s my girl," he greets warmly, his voice a velvety blend of affection and amusement. Before you can even stammer out a hello, he steps forward, slipping one arm around your waist and pulling you into him. His lips find yours in a heartbeat, soft and warm, and you let out a small, involuntary sigh as his other hand settles on the back of your neck.

"Hi," you manage to mumble against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude chuckles, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. "Hello to you too," he murmurs, his thumb brushing an absentminded circle against your hip. His brown eyes are locked on yours, teasing. "You seem a little eager tonight. Miss me, baby?"

The heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant, and you lower your gaze, biting your lip to suppress the shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Maybe," you mumble, your voice so soft it’s almost lost in the space between you.

Jude’s grin widens, and he cups your face with one hand, his thumb brushing gently over the apple of your cheek. "Maybe?" he echoes, pretending to be wounded. "I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I get a maybe?" His tone is playful, but his eyes are so full of adoration that it makes your chest ache in the best way.

You fidget under his gaze, your hands instinctively gripping the hem of your sweater. "Of course I missed you," you admit shyly, barely managing to look up at him.

"That’s more like it," he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. His lips linger there for a moment, and when he pulls back, there’s a tenderness in his expression that makes your heart flutter. "Missed you too, you know. More than I probably should admit."

Your stomach flips at his words, and you let out a breathless laugh, not quite sure how to respond. Jude doesn’t seem to mind your silence; he just brushes another kiss to the tip of your nose before letting his hand slide from your face to your hand, lacing your fingers together.

"So," he starts, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, "is Charlie still here, or do we have the place to ourselves?"

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks warm again at the implication. "She left about an hour ago," you reply, your voice still soft.

Jude grins. "Perfect. Let’s do something scandalous then," he teases, his voice dripping with faux mischief.

You blink up at him, wide-eyed. "Scandalous?" Is this it?

"Yep," he says with a wink. "Like…watching a movie we’ve already seen twenty times while cuddling on the couch. Absolutely outrageous, right?" You try not to deflate at his words and he must've noticed because he smirks down at you.

You let out a soft force chuckle, not seeing the teasing grin on his face. "Yeah, sure."

"Great!" Jude quips, tugging you toward the living room. "C’mon, let’s pick something good."

By "good," you know he means your favorite DVD, the one you’ve insisted on watching so many times that you’re sure he knows half the lines by heart. Sure enough, you makes a beeline for the small shelf in your room, plucking the case from its spot with a triumphant flourish.

"We have to find something new, you know that right?" he teases as you holds it up for him to see. Like he doesn't love it just as much as you. Maybe more. Not that he'll ever admit that to you.

"And yet you keep coming back," you counter quietly, feeling braver than usual.

Jude’s grin softens into something sweeter as he crosses the room to stand in front of you. "Because you’re worth it," he says simply, his voice so sincere it makes your chest tighten. He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before taking your hand again and leading you to your bed. "Now let’s go watch our favorite movie while cuddled in bed like good little nerds."

You follow him, feeling like you’re floating.

The movie’s been playing for about twenty minutes when you finally start to relax, tucked under Jude’s arm with a cozy blanket draped over both of you. The familiar dialogue flows easily in the background, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of Jude’s chest against your side. You're lulled into a state of peace, your head resting against his shoulder, your leg draped over his as you settle in.

It's when the movie gets to the good part that you hear (feel) Jude's stomach growl from under your ear, the low sound vibrating up his chest.

"Shit," he mutters with a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand absently over his stomach. "I’m fucking starving."

You lift your head from his shoulder to peer at his face. “You want me to make you something?” you ask, even though you don't feel like cooking, your hand coming up to copy his gesture.

His eyes flick down to yours, "Yeah," he says slowly, his voice low and soft. He lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a touch so gentle you barely feel it. His gaze follows the motion, his eyes darkening. "That’d be great, baby."

Your pulse quickens at the softness of his tone, but you nod and slip out of his arms, the movement sending the blanket tumbling to the bed. You slip out of the room, feeling his eyes on your back like a caress.

When you return with two bowls of popcorn in hand and a couple bags of snacks, Jude looks up from the spot he's settled in on the couch, his eyes sliding to yours for a heartbeat before dropping down to the food.

“Thank God,” he murmurs, taking one of the bowls from your hands with a grin. You try not to notice the way he brushes his fingers against yours as you pass him the bowl, but the touch makes your stomach flip anyway.

You sink back down beside him on the bed and take a seat. His leg presses up against yours, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and you feel yourself melting into him automatically, his warmth and scent pulling you in.

Jude lifts a handful of popcorn to his mouth, chewing as he settles his arm around your shoulder, the motion drawing you in even closer, until you're practically nestled against his side. His other hand lands on your thigh, his thumb brushing a slow pattern against your leg as he watches the movie. The motion sends a shiver up your spine, and you find your eyes dropping to the sight of his large hand against your leg, his fingertips lightly tracing the soft skin.

The feeling of his hand on you, the heat of his body against yours, is so good that you forget everything else around you—his soft, contented munching, the gentle way he tugs you in closer every now and then, the way you can feel his breath ghosting along the back of your neck and sending shivers up your spine.

You forget about it all until you feel his eyes on you, and you glance up to meet his gaze.

Jude is staring at you, his eyes half-lidded and his face tilted toward you. His expression is soft, his gaze almost… hungry. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, his teeth catching it for just a heartbeat before he lets it slide free. You watch the whole thing in rapt fascination, your cheeks flushing when his gaze flicks down to yours and catches you staring.

"See something you like?" he asks with a low smirk, his voice soft and playful.

You feeling your skin heat up, feeling your pulse quicken and your stomach clench. You lower your eyes, biting your bottom lip to try and contain the frown that's threatening to break across your face.

"Y/N." His voice drops even lower, his hand tightening on your leg as you feel him lean in. His warm breath feathers along the shell of your ear, making you shiver and squirm. "Look at me."

Your eyes flick up to meet his, and his gaze is so warm that you can't look away. You're caught in his stare, the heat building between you like a flame.

"You're really fucking cute when you're shy," he murmurs softly, his grin widening as he reaches up to brush his thumb against the apple of your cheek, his touch feather-light. His eyes follow the motion, and his lips part as he takes a shallow breath, his body seeming to lean in on its own.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you forget to breathe for just a heartbeat as he presses his lips to yours, the kiss light and quick. When he pulls back, he doesn't go far, his face still hovering just a breath away.

"What?" you whisper, your pulse quickening at the way his eyes seem to darken as they drop down to look at your lips.

He lets out a soft, deep chuckle that vibrates through his chest. "What do you think?" His gaze is full of heat as he leans in again, the kiss softer this time, his lips barely brushing over yours. The motion makes you melt into him, your body seeming to go pliant under his touch. "You're too fucking sweet."

Your stomach flips at the way he says that, your hand coming up automatically to cup his neck. You draw him in, deepening the kiss with a soft sound, and he makes a pleased noise against your lips as he opens for you, letting you in.

The kiss turns soft and gentle, a sweet press of lips that makes you feel all fluttery inside, and you sink into it like a fish to water, losing yourself in the heat between you.

When Jude pulls back this time, it's with a groan, his brow furrowing as he tugs away, his breathing a little ragged. "We gotta stop."

You frown, feeling the sudden loss of him like a cold shower. You hesitate for a second, then reach out to cup his face with your palm, my thumb brushing over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

"Jude—" you start softly, and he lets out another soft groan, sinking into your touch as he closes his eyes for a moment.

"Hm?" he hums against your palm, his tone low and tortured.

"I want you," you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

His eyes fly open at your words, his gaze snapping back to yours, and for just a heartbeat, he looks almost pained. Then he lets out a harsh breath and drops his head to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I—fuck," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin, and you can feel his body vibrating with the tension of his emotion. His hand cups the back of your skull, pulling you in closer. "I need a minute."

Your brows furrow at his words. What's wrong? you want to ask, but then Jude lets out a soft groan and bites you lightly on the neck, and all thoughts fly out of your mind.

His lips press to your skin with a soft, wet sound, the suction making your stomach flip. When he pulls back to look up at you, his mouth is swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded. He stares at you for a long moment, his gaze roaming down over your features before meeting yours again.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, your heart beating in your throat. I've never been more sure of anything.

Jude groans softly and kisses you again, the motion firm and deep as he pushes you backward until you're lying flat on the bed, his body covering yours. "How far do you want to go?" He mutters against your mouth, his voice deep and husky, his tongue darting out to trace your lips.

You hesitate for a heartbeat, unsure of how to answer. "Just… more than this?" you mumble softly, your hand tracing up his arm and coming to rest on his chest.

His other hand slides down to your waist, his fingers curling around your hip as he shifts, pressing you back into the bed. The weight of him, the heat of his body against yours, is overwhelming in the best way, and you can’t help the soft sound that escapes you.

"God, you’re perfect," he mutters. His lips trail down to your jaw, then your neck, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses that make your skin tingle. "Tell me if I’m going too far, okay? Promise me."

You nod wordlessly, unable to speak around the pulse pounding in your throat.

Jude trails his lips along your collarbone, nipping gently at the skin before he lifts his head and catches your eyes with a heated look. "If it feels good," he starts slowly, his gaze locked on yours as his hand shifts up to cup your face, "tell me."

His other hand drops to your waist again, his palm skimming along your hip before sliding up underneath your shirt to land on the bare skin of your stomach. You gasp at the feeling of his warm palm against your skin, your breath catching as his fingers splay out over your belly, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"You like that, baby?" His eyes are dark with arousal as he stares down at you, his fingers sliding up to trace over the underside of your breast through your bra. The touch sends a shock straight through your body, your eyes fluttering closed. "Tell me, Y/N," he urges softly.

You gasp softly, letting out a wordless sound as you arch under his touch, your hands coming up to cling to his shoulders. You feel like you're melting into him, like your body is going limp as you let out another soft sound. "Yes."

Jude groans and presses a kiss to your neck, his mouth moving against your skin as he speaks. "Good girl." His hand moves up again, his fingers tracing up the bare skin of your side before his palm cups your breast, his thumb brushing lightly over your nipple.

You gasp again, your breath catching in your throat as you squirm under his touch. He doesn't stop, though; his fingers slip under the edge of your bra cup to brush over your nipple with a feather-light touch.

"God," he mutters hoarsely against your skin, his palm moving in a slow circle over your breast. "You have no idea how fucking good that feels."

His other hand shifts down to settle on your thigh, just above the knee, and you feel a shiver run through you. Your pulse is racing in your ears, the touch of him setting your whole body aflame.

You squirm under him, a soft, high-pitched moan slipping from between your lips, and Jude’s groan is immediate and deep. He shifts to settle his leg between your thighs, and you gasp again at the feeling of him against you. You can feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and the sensation sends another shiver up your spine.

"Fuck, Y/N," he rasps against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers trail down your ribs to your stomach, his palm landing flat against your belly with a soft press. "You’re gonna kill me."

The feeling of his hands on you is too much, and you squirm again, arching under his touch as you let out a high, breathless sound. Jude curses softly, shifting his leg against your center, and you feel another rush of wetness slip from you. His palm moves down to settle between your legs, his hand covering your mound with a warm press that makes you gasp.

"Tell me," he rasps, his voice full of emotion as he kisses your neck again. "Does this feel good?"

You can’t speak; all you can manage is a wordless nod, your hips arching up against his hand. Jude groans again, his breath feathering along your neck, his lips brushing a trail down to the neckline of your shirt.

He's still kissing you when he slides his hand down the waistband of your pants, his fingers trailing over the wet cotton of your panties before slipping under the edge to press against your bare skin. You feel a rush of pleasure at the touch, your whole body tensing, and Jude curses again softly as his palm presses against you, the weight of him making you feel warm and safe.

"Is this okay?" he asks raggedly, his fingers moving up to stroke against your clit through your panties.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp as your hips shift against his palm. You nod wordlessly, your hands shifting up to clutch at his shoulders, and Jude groans again at the sensation of you against him.

"I need words baby," he rasps, his finger slipping under the cotton to brush against your clit with a slow press.

You let out another high-pitched sound, squirming under his hand as his finger shifts to rub against you in slow circles. His palm presses against your mound with a gentle weight, the pressure building between your legs and making your breath come in short, shallow gasps.

"Jude…please," you gasp, your hips shifting against his hand again.

"Please what?" He nuzzles your neck again, his lips feathering a trail along the skin. His finger doesn't stop moving, though, the feeling sending a rush of warmth through you. "Tell me what you need."

Your cheeks flush at his words, and you swallow hard. "Jude…" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on," he rasps gently against your ear. "Tell me."

You squirm again, trying to get away from the feeling of his finger on your clit and the sudden wave of embarrassment that crashes over you. Jude doesn’t let you escape, though; his other arm tightens around your waist as his finger presses down harder against your clit, making the pleasure build between your legs.

"Yes!," you moan again, your voice high and breathless, your legs squirming against his hips. "More! P-please."

He groans loudly against your neck, his teeth catching at the skin in a sharp nip that makes you cry out. "God, fuck. You’re so good for me," he mutters in a hoarse rasp. Then he's pulling away. "Take off your pants for me baby. I wanna see you."

You nod, your hands dropping to your waist as you shove the fabric down. You’re not even fully out of them when Jude slides in the bed behind you. His arms come up around your waist, drawing you back against him, and his mouth drops to nuzzle against the back of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

He pulls you flush against him, his hips fitting against your ass in a way that makes you realize just how turned on he is. You let out another soft gasp, squirming back against him as you feel the length of his cock pressing between your ass cheeks.

Jude groans loudly again, his hands coming up to grip your hips as he pulls you more firmly against him. "Fuck, you feel so good," he rumbles, his mouth nuzzling a trail up the back of your neck. He kisses your skin softly, the warm press of his lips sending another shiver through you.

His hands move down to slip under the edge of your underwear, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. You feel your stomach clench, the anticipation building inside you as his hand skims up to press between your legs. His fingers slide against your wet pussy, his palm cupping you firmly with a possessive press that makes your whole body tremble.

"Fuck," he growls hoarsely again, his lips trailing down to press a kiss to the back of your shoulder. "You're so wet for me." His fingers shift to press your folds through the fabric, stroking lightly against your clit as the wet slick sound of your arousal fills the air. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

You gasp at his words, feeling a hot blush rise up your neck. "Y-yes…" you gasp out.

He groans again, "You're really fucking perfect for me, you know that?" he rasps. "Take these off for me, baby."

You swallow hard, your hands lifting to your sides as you move to shimmy out of your panties, quickly closing your legs as soon as they're off. You hear Jude’s groan against your hair a moment before you feel his palm press down to your thigh.

"You getting shy on me, princess? Hm?" His voice is teasing as he nudges your legs apart again, his fingers trailing down over your skin as he pulls them further and further apart. You gasp softly as you feel your pussy lips spread with the movement, your clit throbbing. "Open up for me."

Your blush deepens, and you hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do, but Jude’s warm breath on your neck is making you melt and your thigh part for him.

"Good girl," he praises softly. "Now let me see what's mine." His hand trails down to settle between your spread legs, his palm cupping your pussy firmly with a warm weight. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. "Look how wet you are," he groans. "You're fucking dripping for me, baby."

His hand shifts, his fingers dipping down to press against your folds, and the feeling is so good it makes you shiver. You gasp again, feeling another rush of liquid heat slip from you as his fingers spread your lips apart. You feel the cool air brush against your wet skin, and you blush hotly again at the sound of your own wetness filling the air.

"Look at that pretty pussy," Jude rasps, his voice deep and rough as he looks down over your shoulder at your wet folds "Fucking gorgeous."

His fingers shift to press against you again, and he lets out a pleased sound as he feels your wetness, his voice dropping to a deep whisper. "You love it, don't you?" he rumbles. "I can tell by the way you soak my fingers." He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck again, his breath making your skin prickle.

"Yes," you moan softly, your eyes drifting closed at the pleasure of his fingers against you.

Jude groans in response, his hand tightening around your hip as his fingers stroke against you faster. The feeling is so good that you can’t hold back your high-pitched sounds.

"Want me to make you cum, sweetheart?" he rasps against the skin of your neck, his fingers finding your clit with a sure press. The pleasure is so intense that you cry out at the sensation, your legs quivering as his thumb begins to rub against you with slow circles.

"Yeah?" Jude whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky. "Give it to me, baby." His voice is like liquid honey against your skin as his fingers shift, two of them sliding up to circle your clit in tight motions, the pad of his thumb rubbing against you in a steady, soft press.

You're so wet that you can hear the sloppy sound of him touching you, his palm cupped around your mound to shield it from the cool air of the room. You can tell he likes it, too; his breath is hot against your neck, and he groans roughly at the feeling of you in his hand.

The contrast between the heat of his palm and the chill of the air makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the way his fingers are lazily stroking through your slickness, his touch teasing, reverent.

“God,” Jude groans, the sound raw, like he’s barely keeping himself together. “You hear that, sweetheart?” His voice is heavy with something dark and sweet, something that makes your stomach flip. “So fucking wet for me.”

You let out a tiny whimper, embarrassed but unable to deny how much you like the way he’s touching you, the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You try to close your thighs instinctively, but he doesn’t let you, his hand pressing you open again with a quiet chuckle.

“No, no, don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. “Let me make you feel good, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod, your face burning, and he exhales a quiet curse before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Can I stick a finger in, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, like honey, like he already knows the answer. He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, just barely there, waiting, teasing.

You gasp at the sensation, your hips arching against his hand without thinking, seeking more. You don’t even realize how eager you are until you hear the sharp breath he takes in, feel the way his other arm tightens around your waist, holding you flush against him.

“That’s a yes?” Jude teases, but his voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back.

You nod, swallowing thickly, and then his finger presses inside you, sinking in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open in the most delicious way. Your breath stutters, a soft, helpless sound escaping you as your body adjusts to the intrusion, and Jude groans in response, his face pressing against your hair.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough, almost pained. “You’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you as he strokes his finger in and out, curling it slightly with each movement. The sensation is foreign but intoxicating, sending little sparks of pleasure through your body with every slow, deliberate thrust.

His lips find your shoulder, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he moves, his breath fanning over you in hot, uneven bursts. “Little virgin pussy just for me,” he whispers against your skin, and the words send a rush of something heady and desperate straight to your core.

Your body clenches around him involuntarily, and he groans at the feeling, his whole body shuddering behind you. “Fuck, baby. Do that again.”

You don’t mean to, but the way he’s touching you, the way his palm is dragging against your clit every time his fingers move, it’s too much. Your body reacts on instinct, tightening around him again, and he curses under his breath, his teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder as if he needs something to ground himself.

“Jude,” you whimper, unsure of what you’re asking for, only knowing that you need more.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and then he’s slipping another finger inside you, filling you even more, stretching you in a way that feels impossibly good. His other hand slides under your shirt, palms up your stomach until he finds your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipple. “You’re taking me so well,” he praises, voice thick with adoration.

The combination of it all—the heat of his body, the skill of his fingers, the sweetness in his voice—is overwhelming, and you can feel something building, coiling tight in the pit of your stomach, desperate to break free.

He can tell. Of course, he can.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Jude murmurs against your skin, his fingers moving faster, his palm pressing just the right way against your clit. “You’re close, aren’t you? Gonna come for me?”

You nod frantically, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Good girl,” he breathes, his voice dripping with pride, and the praise sends you spiraling.

The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, your whole body trembling as your release washes through you.

"Oh, God!" You cry out, Jude’s name falling from your lips in a breathless moan, and he groans, holding you tightly as he works you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing it out until you’re completely spent, boneless in his arms.

You don’t realize how loud you were until the room falls into a thick silence, the only sound left is your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets.

Jude presses a slow, lingering kiss to the back of your head, his fingers slipping out of you with a wet pop, and you whimper at the emptiness, the oversensitivity. He shushes you gently, soothing you with soft touches, sweet kisses.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling against your hair. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Your heart is still pounding in your chest, your body still tingling, but all you can focus on is the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath against your back.

For the first time in your life, you feel like you’re seeing color.

"That good, huh?," Jude murmurs as he pulls his fingers from between your legs, sliding them up to cup your pussy possessively with a slow rub. Then he brings the fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a quiet groan of pleasure as you watch, your breath catching in your throat at the sight. His eyes locks on yours, the heat between you palpable as you gasp.

You nod, your cheeks flushing as he smirks, his tongue darting out to lick his palm.

"Tastes so fucking good too," he mutters, his voice dark with emotion. He drops his head to press a kiss to your neck, your collarbone, his hands slipping up to grip your shoulders firmly.

It's like a switch had been flipped inside you—And all you know is that you never want to go without feeling that again.

You're still breathing fast, your heart still pounding in your ears, "God damn, baby. You're gonna be the end of me."

***********

Pleasure has had a whole new meaning for you since that night.

And Jude is relentless. Ever the indulger.

There are moments when it feels like he can't keep his hands off of you at all. It's like he's gone feral.

Like the other day when you were cooking dinner, and you were wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top that barely covered your ass.

You were leaning over to stir the pot of pasta, completely focused on your task, until you felt Jude’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you back against him. His chest was warm, solid, and you felt the slow rise and fall of his breathing against your back before his hands slid up to cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly with a low groan.

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” he murmured against your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “Walkin’ around like this, actin’ like I won’t do anything about it.”

Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against your ass, making you gasp. “J-Jude, I’m cooking.”

“Mhm.” He hummed lazily, fingers toying with your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. “And I’m hungry for something else.”

That ended with him eating you out for the first time, right there on the kitchen counter. An experience unlike any other. The way his tongue moved against you, how his fingers rubbed over your clit as he lapped at you—fuck. Just thinking about it makes your cheeks flush and your panties wet.

Then there was the time you fell asleep in his lap while watching a movie at his place.

You woke up to his hands between your legs. He wasn’t even doing anything, just keeping his hand there, warm and possessive. When you stirred and gave him a sleepy, questioning look, he just smirked down at you, dimples flashing.

“S’ mine,” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if you belonged to him in every possible way.

And, god, the way he looks at you sometimes. Like he’s starving. Like he’s memorizing every inch of you. Like he’s still in disbelief that you’re his.

Right now you're at his apartment getting ready for your picnic date. You've decided to spend the summer with him since going home is out of the question for you this year. You're super excited to go on this picnic. It’s a surprise, so you have no idea where you’re going. But, from the way Jude looks, you’re pretty sure it's going to be great. He's practically bouncing in excitement.

Jude’s apartment smells like sandalwood and something faintly citrusy, a scent that clings to his skin, to the soft cotton of his hoodie, to the air around you. You’re standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, smoothing out the fabric of your sundress, your heart fluttering with the kind of nervous excitement that makes your fingers tremble just a little.

Behind you, Jude is practically bouncing on his heels, barely containing his excitement. It’s endearing, the way he can hardly stay still, like a golden retriever about to go on a walk.

“You almost ready, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice warm, teasing.

You catch his gaze in the mirror—he’s watching you with an expression that makes your stomach tighten, makes heat rise to your cheeks. The way he looks at you, dark eyes smoldering with something unspoken, always makes you feel like he’s seeing more than just what’s on the surface. Like he’s memorizing you.

“I—I think so,” you say softly, reaching for your cardigan, but before you can grab it, Jude steps in behind you, his chest pressing lightly against your back. His fingers brush over your bare shoulders, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You don’t need this,” he murmurs, lips so close to your ear that you feel the warmth of his breath. “It’s warm out.”

You swallow hard, your skin prickling under his touch. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the worst part is that he enjoys it—loves the way you get all shy and flustered under his attention.

“I might get cold later,” you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.

Jude grins against your hair, his arms slipping around your waist, pulling you back against him. “I’ll keep you warm, baby.”

Your breath catches. The way he says it, so effortlessly, like a promise wrapped in silk, makes you dizzy.

“Jude…”

“Mm?”

“I—I thought we were leaving?” you manage, heart pounding.

He laughs, nuzzling into your neck, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. “We are. But you keep distracting me.”

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you don’t trust yourself to say anything without making a complete fool of yourself, so you just push lightly at his arms. He chuckles but lets you go, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“Fine, fine. But you really do look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You duck your head, smiling despite yourself. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

You shake your head at him, but the warmth in his gaze, the sincerity laced in his words, makes your heart swell.

As you gather your things, Jude grabs the picnic basket, still humming under his breath, his excitement infectious. He won’t tell you where you’re going—he’s been annoyingly secretive about it all morning—but from the way he keeps stealing glances at you, like he’s holding onto some grand secret, you know it’s going to be something special.

The car ride is filled with soft music and Jude’s hand resting comfortably on your thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin. Every now and then, he glances at you, a small, knowing smirk playing at his lips whenever he catches you sneaking a look at him.

“Excited?” he asks.

You nod, fingers twisting together in your lap. “Yeah. I love surprises.”

Jude grins, squeezing your thigh. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna love this one.”

The drive takes longer than you expected, but you don’t mind. With Jude, time always seems to melt away, the world outside shrinking until it’s just the two of you, wrapped in a little bubble of quiet intimacy.

When he finally pulls up to the destination, your breath catches. The sun is beginning to dip in the sky, casting everything in soft golden hues, and in front of you is a secluded little meadow, framed by towering trees. It looks like something out of a painting, untouched and serene.

“Oh,” you breathe, stepping out of the car, eyes wide. “Jude… it’s beautiful.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Yeah? You like it?”

You nod, unable to find the right words.

“I wanted it to be special,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “For you.”

Your throat tightens at that, and you turn in his arms, looking up at him. The sunlight catches in his eyes, turning them into molten honey, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

“Jude…”

His fingers tilt your chin up, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” You swoon at how he still asks.

You don’t even have to answer. You lift onto your toes, closing the space between you, and he meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep, filled with all the things he doesn’t need to say out loud.

When you finally pull back, breathless and warm, he smiles against your lips. “Told you you’d love it.”

You laugh, heart full, and let him lead you toward the picnic he’s set up under the trees, the blanket spread out beneath the stars. It’s so romantic you could cry.

Jude wasn’t lying when he said you’d love it.

The picnic setup is nothing short of breathtaking. A thick, cozy blanket is spread over the grass, weighed down at the corners with a wicker basket, a bottle of wine, and a few lit lanterns that flicker warmly against the encroaching twilight. A small tent is pitched just a few feet away, its entrance left open, revealing plush pillows and more blankets inside. Everything about it feels intimate, private, like your own little world hidden away from everything else.

And Jude—God, Jude looks so pleased with himself, hands on his hips, watching your reaction with a boyish grin.

“You really did all this?” you ask softly, still a little stunned, still trying to process just how perfect it all is.

Jude chuckles, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Of course,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “Wanted to spoil my girl.”

Your face burns at that, heart skipping an entire beat. His girl. It’s ridiculous how much those two little words make you melt, how they settle so easily into your chest like they’ve always belonged there.

“I—I love it,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

His lips graze the sensitive spot just behind your ear, and you shiver, hands gripping his forearms instinctively. “You can thank me later,” he teases, his voice laced with something dark, something promising.

Your breath hitches. “Jude.”

He just chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pulling away. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s eat before you get all shy on me.”

He’s right—you’re already flustered, barely holding yourself together as you kneel on the blanket. Jude joins you, opening the basket to pull out an assortment of food. There’s fresh fruit, sandwiches, some of your favorite snacks, and even ingredients for s’mores.

“You thought of everything,” you muse, watching as he uncorks the bottle of wine with practiced ease.

“‘Course I did,” he says, winking. “Gotta impress my girl.”

Your stomach flutters. You shake your head, biting your lip as you take the glass he hands you, trying to suppress the ridiculous smile threatening to take over your face.

The two of you eat leisurely, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as it always does. Jude makes you laugh until your sides ache, teasing you in that way only he can—flirty, playful, but always affectionate.

It’s easy. Being with him.

Eventually, the stars come out, a sprawling canvas of light stretching endlessly above you. You lay back on the blanket, staring up in awe, while Jude props himself up on one elbow, watching you instead.

“You brought your telescope, yeah?” he asks.

You nod, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Mhm. It’s in the car.”

Jude smirks. “Think you could teach me some constellations?”

You hum, considering. “Depends.”

“On?”

“On how well you listen.”

He grins, leaning in, his face dangerously close to yours. “I always listen to you, sweetheart.”

Your breath catches. His hand finds your hip, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns through the fabric of your dress. “Jude…”

“Mm?”

“You’re distracting me.”

He laughs, low and deep. “Am I?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “Very much.”

Jude’s fingers tighten on your hip, just slightly, just enough for you to feel the possessiveness in the gesture. “That’s funny,” he murmurs, dipping his head so that his lips ghost over yours, not quite kissing you, just teasing. “Because you’ve been distracting me all damn night.”

Your pulse stutters. “I—I have?”

Jude exhales sharply, like he can’t believe you’d even ask. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your hands grip at his hoodie, trying to ground yourself, trying to breathe through the sudden onslaught of heat pooling low in your stomach. “Jude,” you whisper, barely able to get his name out.

He groans, like you saying his name alone is enough to drive him insane, and then he finally closes the distance, kissing you deep and slow, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you piece by piece.

And you let him. Because it’s Jude. Because you trust him. Because he makes you feel safe even when he makes you feel like you’re coming undone.

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless, dizzy. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, his fingers still gripping your hip like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, but he’s smiling when he says it, and you can’t help but smile too.

“You started it,” you tease, voice barely above a whisper.

Jude laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah.” He presses a quick, final kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back, staring up at the sky. “Go on, then. Teach me something.”

You giggle, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Okay,” you say softly, squeezing his hand once. “See that bright one over there?”

Jude hums, squeezing back. “Yeah.”

“That’s Vega.”

He turns his head to look at you, eyes full of something unbearably fond. “Is it the prettiest star?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Well, I—”

“Because if it is,” he interrupts, grinning, “then it makes sense why it reminds me of you.”

Your heart stutters, cheeks burning, and you groan, covering your face with your hands. “Jude.”

He laughs, warm and rich, pulling you closer until you’re curled into his side, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your ear.

You stay like that for a couple minutes, his fingers trace lazy patterns along your arm, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You feel safe here. Cherished.

And you make your decision.

“You’re quiet,” Jude murmurs, tilting his head down to look at you. His voice is low, roughened by the night air, by the intimacy wrapped around you both like a second skin.

You swallow, nerves bubbling in your stomach. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now, letting the thought sit in the corners of your mind, letting it grow into something more solid, more certain.

And now, in the golden glow of this moment, with the stars watching and Jude holding you like you’re his world, you finally gather the courage to say it.

“Jude…” Your voice is small, hesitant. You shift slightly so you can look up at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. “I—I think I’m ready.”

His brows furrow, lips parting slightly as he processes your words. Then his expression softens, something warm and deep flickering in his gaze. “Ready for what, sweetheart?” He knows what you're asking for. But he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, so he waits for you to confirm.

You bite your lip, fingers twisting in the fabric of the blanket. It takes everything in you to hold his gaze, but you do, because you need him to know that you mean this. That you want this.

“For… us. For that.” Your cheeks burn, and you’re sure you must look ridiculous, but Jude just watches you, patient as ever. “I want to be with you. I want you to be my first.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Just stares at you with an unreadable expression, his grip on you tightening slightly. Then, slowly, his thumb brushes over your cheek, his touch feather-light.

“Are you sure?” His voice is barely above a whisper, careful and deliberate, like he’s giving you one last chance to change your mind.

You nod, pressing your cheek into his palm. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Something shifts in his gaze—something deep, something intense. His jaw tightens like he’s holding something back, but then he exhales, his hand slipping from your face to intertwine with yours.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, baby.” He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Let's go inside then.”

You nod and he helps you up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too fast. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push. Just holds your hand as he leads you toward the tent, zipping it open and stepping aside to let you in first.

The inside is cozy, lit only by the soft glow of the lanterns Jude set up earlier. The air is warm, thick with something unspoken, something electric. You settle onto the pile of blankets and pillows, watching as Jude kneels in front of you, his hands resting on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice barely above a breath, as if the words are meant only for you and the universe.

You duck your head, suddenly shy, but Jude doesn’t let you hide. He reaches out, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over your cheek, then your jaw, then the corner of your lips. “I’ve got you.”

You nod, exhaling softly. “I know.”

His lips find yours then, slow and tender, like he’s savoring the moment. His hands are gentle as they slide up your arms, over your shoulders, down your back. There’s no rush, no urgency—just soft touches, soft kisses, soft whispers.

The world outside fades into nothingness, leaving only the two of you. The stars, once so distant, now feel like they're watching closely, witnesses to something both innocent and deeply intimate. His kiss deepens slowly, the pressure of his lips soft and coaxing, as if he's waiting for you to lead, to guide him through this moment. His hands are everywhere, but always with a reverence, like he's treating every inch of you as something precious.

You feel your pulse quicken under his touch, the fluttering of nerves mixing with something else, something sweet. He can sense it, too—how your breath catches every time he moves, every time his fingers graze your skin.

“Hey,” Jude murmurs against your lips, his voice a touch rougher now, laced with need. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. “It's just me, okay? Always just me.”

You nod, swallowing hard, but Jude's fingers tighten on your waist like he needs more assurance. Like he needs to hear it from you.

“Just you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's eyes flash with something like triumph, and his lips find yours again in a kiss that's soft, deep, devouring.

Jude is gentle, almost unbearably so, as he slowly tilts you back onto the pillows. The world seems to narrow to just the two of you—the rustling of the blankets beneath you, the warmth of his hands steadying your body, the quiet exhale of his breath fanning against your skin. Your hair spreads out like a halo against the sheets, and Jude just stares for a moment, his gaze roaming over you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

"Fuck baby, look at you," he murmurs, voice rough, reverent. "You don't even know how pretty you are, do you?"

You swallow hard, looking at him through wet clumpy lashes, the warmth of him overwhelming you already. Jude bites his bottom lip at the sight of you already so fucked out for him. You're so fucking pretty and he can't wait to ruin you.

Jude’s weight shifts over you as he lowers himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that steals the breath from your lungs. He’s everywhere—his scent, his warmth, the solid weight of him pressing into you in all the places you’re most sensitive. You feel him, all of him, and your lashes flutter as you try not to tremble beneath him.

His hands slide up your sides, slow and deliberate, his fingers catching the hem of your dress. He pushes the fabric up inch by inch, exposing more of your skin to the cool air, and then he makes a sound—low, almost pained.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he breathes, dipping his head to your neck. He kisses you there, soft at first, then with more intent, dragging his lips over the delicate skin until he reaches your collarbone. His mouth is hot, open-mouthed, tasting you, lingering. The smell of you putting him in a haze. "Need to taste you. Gonna let me? Mhm?"

The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core.

You nod, but the motion is shaky, your lips parted as you struggle to find your voice. "Y-yeah," you whisper, barely more than breath.

Jude smiles against your skin, finding your shyness utterly endearing. Even after all this time you're still so fucking cute. "That’s my girl," he murmurs, his fingers trailing lower.

You feel them at the edge of your panties, feel the soft tug as he starts to slide them down. Your breath hitches, and Jude pauses immediately, glancing up at you. His eyes are warm, searching.

"Hey," he murmurs, pressing a kiss just above your navel. "You okay?"

You nod again, but he doesn’t move right away. He watches you, patient, waiting for you to really settle before continuing. It’s so incredibly tender that your heart squeezes in your chest.

When he finally does pull your panties away, his breath catches. His hands part your thighs, thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin there, and he exhales like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment. He has.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "Such a pretty pussy."

Your fingers curl into the sheets as he works his way lower, his lips tracing paths of fire down your legs, teasing, deliberate. You’re already shaking by the time his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your mound.

"Can I kiss it, baby?" His voice is low, dark, laced with something sinful, something that makes your entire body burn.

You can’t even speak. Your lips part, but no words come out, just a soft whimper that makes Jude grin against your skin. He loves this—the way you melt for him, the way you look at him with wide, innocent eyes like you can’t believe what’s happening.

"You’ve gotta tell me, princess," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles. "Need to hear you say it."

"Y-yeah," you stammer, barely audible, but it’s enough.

Jude groans, his lips pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before finally, finally—

The first touch of his mouth is pure ecstacy. You gasp, your body jolting against the bed, and Jude hums in approval. His tongue moves slowly, languidly, savoring every inch of you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. You are.

"God, baby," he groans into you, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Taste so fucking good. Could stay here all night."

His hands slide beneath your thighs, pulling you closer, tilting your hips just right so he can get even deeper. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, and your entire body tenses. Your fingers shoot to his hair, gripping onto the dark coils as if they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

Jude chuckles, and the sound is pure sin. "That good, huh?"

You let out a broken whimper, your head tipping back, your cheeks burning. He’s watching you—God, he’s watching you. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, dark and hungry, and the sight alone is enough to make your stomach twist with want.

"Look at you," he murmurs, licking into you again, slow and deep. "So fucking pretty when you let go for me."

You squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed, but he’s not having it. One of his hands moves up your body, sliding beneath your dress until he finds your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

"Don’t hide from me, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "Wanna see you. Wanna watch you fall apart."

And you do.

With every stroke of his tongue, every whispered praise against your skin, and wet slick sound of his mouth, your body coils tighter, your breath coming in sharp little pants. It feels like you’re being pulled apart at the seams, every nerve on fire, and it’s terrifying, overwhelming, but Jude—he’s there, holding you, grounding you, whispering sweet nothings against your pussy.

When he flicks his tongue over your clit once more, you lose it.

Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing around him, and Jude holds you through it all, his tongue never ceasing its motion. He groans against your skin, his hand gripping your thigh hard, but you barely feel it. All you can do is sob his name, your head tipping back in a silent scream, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Jude stays with you through it all—licking, sucking, slowly bringing you down from the high. He doesn’t stop until your body finally relaxes against the mattress, limp and warm and pliant. Then he moves up your body in a slow, languid crawl, lips dragging over your skin, kissing everything he passes. His fingers find your hair, stroking it back from your face, and then his mouth meets yours.

You're still reeling from what he's done, from the way he’s touched you, taken you apart like he was born to do it. Your body is thrumming, heat pooling low in your belly, and yet Jude’s kiss is gentle—softer than you expect, coaxing you back to reality, back to him.

He tastes like you—salt and sweetness mixed into something heady and intoxicating. The taste of him makes you whimper against his lips, and he swallows the sound like it’s his favorite thing in the world.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours, lips barely ghosting over your mouth as he speaks. "Still with me?"

You hum, nodding shyly, your fingers fisting the sheets beside you.

Jude grins against your lips, his voice turning teasing. "Good girl."

His words send a ripple of warmth through you, but before you can say anything, he leans back, arms flexing as he peels his shirt off in one smooth motion. The sight of him, shirtless and breathtaking, has your breath hitching. His body is all lean muscle, defined and golden brown. Spit pools in your mouth, and you have to swallow quickly to stop from embarrassing yourself.

Jude notices. Of course, he does. His smirk is knowing, his dark eyes full of mischief as he tosses the shirt aside.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?" he teases, voice dipping low, sinful.

Your face burns, but you can’t look away.

His laughter is soft, affectionate. "You’re too cute," he murmurs, brushing his fingers over your flushed cheek before dipping lower, reaching for the hem of your dress. His knuckles graze your skin, making you shiver. "Let’s get this off you."

Before you can protest, the fabric is slipping over your head and then—then you’re bare for him.

The moment stretches, thick with anticipation. You shift slightly, suddenly shy under his gaze, but Jude just looks at you like you’re a masterpiece, like he’s afraid to blink in case you disappear.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice rough, reverent. "You're so fucking pretty."

You barely have time to register his words before his lips are back on yours—hotter this time, more insistent. There’s no hesitation now, no teasing restraint. He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s trying to consume every last bit of you.

You gasp against his mouth, arching into him, needing more, and he groans, gripping your thigh and pulling it over his hip. The new angle has you feeling him more, the thick press of his cock through his pants sending sparks of desire shooting straight to your core.

"Jude," you whisper, breathless.

He presses his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. "I know, baby," he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours. The friction is maddening, sinful. You moan, and he catches the sound with his mouth, swallowing it greedily.

"You're so soft," he whispers, his hands roaming, fingertips dragging over your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. "So warm." Another roll of his hips, slow and deliberate. "I need you, baby."

His words send a shiver down your spine, heat curling deep inside you.

Jude’s mouth finds your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses down to your chest. His hands follow, palms covering your breasts, kneading softly before his thumbs brush over your nipples. The sensation is too much, not enough, all at once.

You whimper, your hands flying to his shoulders, clutching him.

"You're so sensitive," Jude mutters, voice thick with want. He pinches one of your nipples lightly, watching as you jolt beneath him. "Makes me so fucking hard."

His words are filthy, but instead of making you shy away, they send another wave of heat pooling between your legs.

Your eyes flicker downward, and you see it—see the thick outline of him straining against his pants. Your breath catches.

"Take them off," you whisper, surprising yourself.

Jude stills, his gaze snapping to yours, surprised. Then, he smirks, but there’s something darker, hungrier beneath it. "Yeah?"

You nod, biting your lip.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he kicks off his pants and boxer briefs, and then he’s bare before you.

Your breath stutters. He’s—God.

Thick, veiny and oh so hard.

Your thighs press together instinctively, and Jude notices. His smirk grows, but there’s a softness in his eyes, too. He leans down, brushing a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, your nose.

But then—

"Shit." He suddenly freezes, his face scrunching in frustration. "I don’t have condoms."

You blink, his words slow to register through the haze of desire clouding your mind.

Jude groans, dragging a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think we’d be doing this tonight."

You hesitate, then swallow your nerves. "It’s okay," you murmur. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around him, feeling the warmth, the weight of him in your palm. He sucks in a sharp breath. "I’m on birth control."

"Sweetheart," he groans, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. "Don’t do that."

But you do. You stroke him slowly, experimentally, fascinated by the way his breathing stutters, the way his jaw clenches like he’s barely holding himself together.

Jude curses under his breath, his head dropping to your shoulder. "You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up."

You hum softly, dragging your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum leaking out. He chokes on a groan, his hands gripping your hips tight.

You’ve never seen him like this—so undone, so desperate.

And God, you love it.

"Please, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with need. "Squeeze tighter for me."

You bite your lip as you obey, watching him through your lashes. He’s so big, so hard for you. Your walls clenches just thinking about it, a rush of slick flooding your core.

Jude notices. His eyes flick down to where your thighs press together, and then the last of his control snaps.

He grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from him.

His hands slide down, tracing the curve of your waist before gripping your thighs, spreading them open carefully.

"Tell me if it hurts, sweetheart," he murmurs, reaching down to stroke himself. He brushes his lips over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, soothing you in every way he can. "I’ll stop if you need me to. I’ll take care of you, I promise."

You believe him. You always have.

Then, he shifts, and you feel him at your entrance, his heavy gaze locked between your thighs. A nervous breath hitches in your throat, your fingers fisting into the sheets. Jude notices, of course he does, and his lips curve into a teasing smirk.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet like honey. “I got you.”

You nod, though your body remains tense, overwhelmed by his closeness, by the way his touch ignites something deep inside you. Then, he moves the head of his cock over your clit, slow and deliberate, rubbing lazy circles that have your breath stuttering. The sensation is new, foreign yet delicious, and just as you’re adjusting to the pleasure, he taps it against your swollen bud, making you jolt.

A soft gasp escapes you, your fingers gripping the sheets tighter.

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, shaking his head as he watches how his thick head glides easily between your slick folds. The sound it makes makes you bury you face in his shoulder “You’re so wet, baby. All fucking mine.”

His words send a rush of heat through your body, your cheeks burning as you turn your face to the side, too shy to meet his gaze. But Jude isn’t having it. He cups your chin gently, coaxing you to look at him.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. 

The hunger in his voice makes you clench and he groans at the feeling. Then, he’s pressing in, the thick head pushing past your entrance, stretching you in a way that makes you suck in a sharp breath. Your lashes flutter, but Jude’s there, his eyes locked on yours, his lips brushing reassuring kisses over your nose, your cheek.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know, baby.” 

He slides in further, slow, slow. You feel yourself spreading around his girth, the feeling of fullness intense but not quite painful. The dull pressure borders on discomfort, but Jude doesn’t rush you. He moves slowly, carefully, inch by inch, pausing to let you adjust, his hands soothing over your sides.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he praises, his lips brushing over your cheek, your jaw, down to your throat. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You exhale shakily, trying to relax as he pushes deeper. There’s a slight burn, your body resisting the intrusion, but the way Jude watches you—so patient, so gentle—eases the tension. He strokes your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, reassuring circles into your skin.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. His voice is wrecked, thick with restraint. “God, you feel so fucking good. So warm, so tight.”

Your nails dig into his back as he finally sinks in all the way, filling you completely. A whimper leaves your lips, overwhelmed by the stretch, by the feeling of being utterly, entirely full. Jude stills immediately, concern flickering across his face.

“Too much?” he asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

You shake your head quickly, blinking up at him. “No—just… full,” you admit breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softens, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there.

He doesn’t move, just holds you, letting you adjust at your own pace. His lips find your neck, trailing slow, reverent kisses down to your collarbone. His hands never stop moving, caressing your thighs, your hips, your waist—everywhere. It helps, the ache easing into something warmer, something better.

You shift slightly beneath him, testing the sensation, and a tiny moan escapes you at the delicious friction. Jude groans, his fingers tightening on your hips like he’s barely holding on.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight. Pussy feels like heaven, baby.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, making you squirm in embarrassment. You bury your face against his neck, but he only chuckles, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Don’t be shy,” he coaxes, his voice laced with amusement. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart.”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them gently as he pulls out, slow and careful, before sinking back in. The friction sends a shiver up your spine, something new and intoxicating unfurling in your belly. Your breath stutters, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Jude watches you closely, his eyes dark and heated. Then, his lips twitch into a knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride. “You like that, baby?”

Your cheeks flame, but the pleasure is too much to deny. You nod, barely able to form words, and Jude groans, dropping his head to your collarbone as he fights to keep himself together.

“Fuck, this pussy,” the last sound drags out as his jaw goes slack. “fucking made for me.”

His thrusts remain slow, deep, every roll of his hips sending a ripple of pleasure through you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, a sensation you can’t begin to describe. Every brush of his skin against yours sends sparks of sensation through your body.

It’s not long before you find yourself moving with him, arching beneath him, searching for more. He hums in approval, his teeth nipping gently at your neck as he thrusts into you deeper, harder. You cry out, a high whimper, and Jude swallows it greedily.

You’re completely lost in the sensation of him, the way he moves above you like a dream, like a vision. The way his lips drag over your skin, the soft praise against your ear, the heavy weight of him on top of you. It all feels so good, so overwhelming, that you find yourself clinging to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders like he’s the only thing that exists in this moment.

Jude growls, his mouth finding yours as he kisses you hard, deep. He fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast, rougher than he ever thought he’d be with you. But you—it’s like you were made for him, like your body was built for this, for his cock.

And it makes him crazy.

“Fuuuckk,” he rasps into your mouth, your lips barely parting for words. “Gonna cum for me? Hm?”

He slips a hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He strokes it, hard, slow circles that make you cry out. Your walls clench around him as he rubs you faster—it’s like the best thing you’ve ever felt.

And then…

"Oh, fuck! Jude!" you cry out, your back concaving into him as his tip grazes a spot that has tears spilling down your cheeks. You can only describe it as pure ecstasy and he’s not letting up. “Oh, God. Oh, God”

Jude curses, his hips moving faster, thrusting into your gspot over and over again. You’re sobbing now, "Found it."Jude whispers, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot over and over.  You're getting so close, your body’s a live wire, waiting to snap.

“Jude—fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!” you sob.

His hand tightens on your hip, his fingers bruising. “Then cum, baby,” he grunts, his own body tense, close. “Let me feel it. Cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking milk my cock.”

The filthy words send you over the edge, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you, a force so intense it steals the air from your lungs. Your fingers clutch at Jude’s broad shoulders, nails pressing into his flushed skin, as a broken sob falls from your lips. The pleasure is overwhelming—too much, too deep, too consuming—but you surrender to it, trembling as your body spasms around him.

"That’s it, love," Jude groans, his voice rough with desperation, his fingers tangling with yours as he pins your hands above your head, holding you there, helpless beneath him. “Jude,” you gasp, voice trembling, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

The sight of you—flushed, trembling, your lips parted in a breathless moan—Your slick gummy walls spasm around him, clenching tight, and it’s all Jude needs to follow you into the abyss of bliss.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest, his head tipping back as his thrusts turn frantic, desperate, chasing his own pleasure. You watch as his eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack as his mouth forms an 'O'. “Fuckkkk,” he grits out, his entire body shuddering. “That’s it, princess. Love this fuckin’ pussy.”

His hips stutter, his thick cock jerks inside you once, twice, then he’s gone—spilling deep inside of you with a strangled moan. You feel it—the warmth of him, thick and hot, filling you up completely. His body trembles against yours as he collapses, his chest pressing against your own, heartbeat wild and erratic.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the cool night air brushing over your sweat-slicked skin. The world outside the tent is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets or the distant rustling of leaves.

Jude’s nose brushes against your temple, his lips following in a lazy path along your hairline, down your cheek, over your jaw. He peppers soft kisses across your skin, like he can’t bear to stop touching you. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he’s afraid you might slip away.

You blink up at him, your vision still hazy, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. And then, unexpectedly, a giggle bubbles past your lips. 

Jude stirs, lifting his head to look down at you with a lopsided grin. His honey brown eyes are filled with amusement, mischief, and something far softer—something that makes your stomach flip.

“What are you laughin’ at, princess?” His voice is hoarse, still rough with pleasure and a hint of exhaustion. His thumb strokes slow circles over your hipbone.

You shake your head, a little breathless, still giddy. “That was…” You pause, searching for the right words, but nothing feels like enough. Your cheeks burn as you hide your face against his shoulder. “I don’t even know how to describe it.”

Jude chuckles, the deep sound vibrating against your skin. “I think I do.”

You peek up at him, curiosity flickering in your dazed gaze. “Yeah?”

He hums, pressing another slow, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to study your face, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down at you, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your skin

“It was,” he starts, dragging the moment out, watching the way your lips part slightly, the way your lashes flutter. He smirks. “Pretty fuckin’ perfect.”

Your blush deepens, and you swat at his chest, but your hand has no real strength behind it. “Jude,” you whine, embarrassed, but he only laughs, catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to your palm, then your fingertips, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I mean it,” he murmurs, voice lower now, more serious. “You’re perfect.”

Your heart stumbles, skipping a beat before thudding heavily against your ribs. You swallow, suddenly shy, suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his gaze.

The way he's looking at you now. It's too much.

“I…” Your throat feels tight, words catching. But Jude just smiles, like he understands, like he doesn’t need you to say anything at all.

He shifts, rolling onto his side making you wince as you remember he's still inside you, bringing you with him so that you’re tucked against his chest, your leg draped over his hip, your face buried in the crook of his neck. His fingers trace lazy patterns down your spine, soothing, grounding.

It's so intimate; knowing that's he's inside you, the warmth of him filling you completely as you involuntarily clench around him. The knowledge of his cum still inside you and the slight burn from the stretch that's making your hips sore.

Jude groans quietly, his head tipping back at the overstimulation, his eyes falling closed as he tries to calm himself down. “Hold on, love, just a second.” He hisses out a breath and reaches down to grasp himself at the base before gently pulling out, whispering sweet nothings and soft apologies at the wince you let out.

The feeling of emptiness is immediate, your walls clenching, but you say nothing, just bite your lip and look away as Jude reaches for his shirt. He wipes himself clean before he getting up. You watch with confusion as he slips on his boxers and slides out of the tent. But it's not long before he's back. He crawls back inside with a wet cloth, a small bowl of fruits you packed earlier and your water bottle. He sits down next to you with a soft smile, the cloth held out in his hands. Your cheeks grow warm as you realize what he’s doing. 

“Spread your legs for me, princess .” His voice is soft, gentle. He waits patiently for you to do as he asks, and the way his eyes soften as you listen… It makes tears well up in your eyes. To be taken care of like this—is beyond what you expected. He cleans you gently before he sets the cloth down and reaches for the bowl of fruit.

His eyes light up as he holds a grape to your lips and you accept it with a giggle. He hands you a slice of apple next, and you take a bite, smiling softly at the sight of his relaxed expression. It's like nothing else exists, like only you two are here in the moment. After you finish your snack, he holds out your water bottle and you thank him as you take a long drink.

Jude watches you with something dangerously close to adoration, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s memorizing every little thing—your flushed cheeks, your sleepy eyes, the way your lips glisten as you sip from the bottle. His fingers trail absentmindedly over your thigh, warm and soothing, tracing lazy patterns onto your skin.

“You okay, love?” he murmurs, his voice thick with something soft, something that makes your chest feel too tight.

You nod, still shy, still unsure what to do with all the emotions swirling inside you.

Jude must sense it, must see the way you hesitate, the way your fingers fidget in your lap. He tilts your chin up with the barest touch of his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his expression unreadable.

"You're thinkin' too much," he teases gently. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You hesitate, your throat bobbing as you swallow. But under his gaze, so open and patient, you find yourself whispering, "Just… I don’t know how to explain it." Your fingers toy with the hem of the blanket, suddenly fascinated by the texture. "I just feel… full."

His brows lift, and for a second, a wicked smirk plays at the corners of his lips. “Full, huh?”

Your eyes widen as you catch the meaning, and you smack his arm with an indignant squeak. "Not like that, Jude!"

His laugh rumbles deep in his chest, rich and warm, and you feel it against your cheek where you’ve buried your face again, hiding. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against him with ease, his lips brushing against your temple.

"Alright, alright," he murmurs, amusement still thick in his voice. "I’ll behave."

You huff, but the way his fingers thread through your hair, his touch slow and methodical, makes your body melt against him. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, taking his time with each one like he’s savoring the taste of you.

“You feel full,” he echoes, more serious now, as if he’s trying to understand. "Full of what, love?"

Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, "I love you, Jude Bellingham ."

His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, but then a softness takes over, and his arms tighten, his hands cupping your face with such gentle care.

“Y/N Y/L/N” His voice is low, raspy, filled with something deep and real. "I love you too. More than I ever thought it was possible to feel. You’re my everything, Y/N. I never wanna spend another night without you in my arms. Every day without you feels too long, too much, too wrong. Will you marry me?"

The world slows, the weight of his words sinking into your bones, melting into the marrow. You blink, stunned, your breath caught somewhere between your ribs as your heart hammers wildly against your chest.

He shifts slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, the other reaching into the pocket of his discarded jeans. You watch, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a small velvet box. The soft glow of the lantern casts golden hues on his face, highlighting the nervous anticipation in his warm brown eyes.

“Jude…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your fingers trembling as you reach up, touching his cheek as if to confirm it’s real and not some dream spun from the afterglow of your love.

He smiles, tilting his head just slightly into your touch, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the small of your back. “Yeah, love. It’s real,” he murmurs, as if reading your thoughts. “Been carryin’ this around for weeks, waitin’ for the right time. And I realized… there’s no better time than right now.”

He flicks open the box, revealing a delicate ring, the band slender and elegant, a diamond nestled in its center, catching the lantern light and scattering it in tiny flecks across the canvas of the tent. Your breath catches, tears welling in your eyes, blurring the sight of it.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says, his voice steady, thick with emotion. “I know we haven't been together long, but I can’t live without you. Every single day, you make me happier than I ever thought I deserved. I love you. I love your shy little smiles, the way you tuck your face into my neck when you get flustered. I love the way you look at me like I hung the stars, when really, you’re the one that lights up my whole world.”

A soft, overwhelmed sound escapes your lips, something between a laugh and a sob, and he grins, his dimples carving into his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say yes right now,” he adds quickly, as if he’s worried you might feel pressured, as if he can’t bear to see even a hint of hesitation in your eyes. “I just… I want you to know that I’m all in. I wanna be yours for the rest of my life. Whenever you’re ready, whenever you want me—I’m here.”

Your hands shake as you reach for the box, fingers barely brushing the velvet before you shift, pressing forward, wrapping yourself around him as best as you can. Your lips find his—soft, eager, trembling against his own. He catches your breathy gasp with a quiet groan, deepening the kiss, his hands firm at your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

When you finally pull away, you’re breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Yes,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “Yes, Jude. I want you—I want forever with you.”

The way his face lights up, the way pure joy radiates from him—it steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” His voice wavers just slightly, disbelief laced into the happiness.

You nod fervently, laughing softly as tears slip down your cheeks. “Yes. A million times, yes.”

A sound rumbles in his chest—something between relief and elation—as he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking slightly. And then he’s kissing you again, laughing against your lips, his hands tangling in your hair, his body pressing you back down onto the soft blanket beneath you.

“You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, love.” His voice is warm, reverent, as his lips trail along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His fingers find your hand, threading through yours, the cool metal of your new ring pressing against his skin. “I swear, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret saying yes to me.”

You smile, your free hand slipping into his curls, tugging just slightly until he looks up at you, his eyes dark with something deep, something infinite. “I could never regret you, Jude.”

His breath stutters, and then he’s kissing you again, deep and slow, his love spilling from his lips, from the way his hands trace over your skin.

When he finally pulls away, you’re dazed, breathless, your fingers still curled into his like you don’t want him to go too far.

Jude chuckles, resting his forehead against yours again. “Gotta say, camping’s never been this fun before.”

You giggle, and the sound makes something warm bloom in his chest.

“I think I like it too,” you admit, your voice small, “Especially… with you.”

His arms tighten around you, and when he speaks next, his voice is quieter, raw with something unspoken.

“Good. ‘Cause I plan on makin’ a lot more memories with you, princess.” He tilts his head just enough to steal another soft kiss. “Forever and always, huh?”

“Forever and always,” you echo, smiling into the next kiss.

-Bianca🌻

[4ngels0uls]

Fuck me like you mean it. - C.S

Don’t like? Don’t read.

Summary: chris uses y/n as a pillow all the time until Chris uses his “pillow” and gets needy.

Paring: fem!read + dom!chris

Warnings: SMUT, choking, strong language, p in v, pet name, a little..𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, squirting, etc

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for so long. AND LOL I THOUGHT THE 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 THING WAS FUNNY😭 Also not edited.

————————————————————

First person

I sit in Chris’s bed as I wait for him to come back to his room. I’m laying down on my stomach as my legs kick in the are, biting my nails as I wait. I’m waiting for Chris because he just went out for lunch with his triplet brothers for a YouTube video. Matt has always been a bitch to me, sometimes but mostly. I wish Matt wasn’t so awful to me.

Nick likes me tho other than Matt. Nick likes me because I’m his best friend as he says, in fact I am his best friend and he’s my best friend. Chris is my best friend, I want to be more than friends with Chris though. Chris is one of the guys you would die to just fuck, or date.

but I want both.

————————————————————

I lay down staring at the roof as I zone out. I hear the front door open, there back. I sit there laying in the bed and Chris walks back in. “Oh I thought you went home.” He says as he puts his phone down and comes up above me and lays his head between my breasts. “no I was bored and I wanted to just stay here and wait for you.” I reply.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave. You’re my pillow” he says as he closes his eyes. I chuckle at his words and play with his hair. He accidentally bucks his hips to move up but as he does he realizes his hips are in between mine. “I’m so sorry…” he says as he grows a boner. “It’s fine.” I chuckle as he gets up and runs to the bathroom.

————————————————————

Those were just one of the moments that happened that I could have just fucked Chris right there and then but I missed my chance. We’re all watching a movie, sitting in the living room. “This movie is so fucking boring!” Chris complains. “Shut the fuck up kid” Matt argues. “Shh!” Nick says as his eyes are attached to the tv on the wall.

Chris looks at me and whispers. “can we go do something alone without these fuckers?” I chuckle a little at his words and nod. Chris stands up and hold his hand out in front of me. I take his hand and stand up. “Where are you to love birds going?” Matt asks. “Matt… Shit the fuck up.” Chris says boldly. “Seesh just a question.” Matt says In a sassy way. Me and Chris walk off to his room.

I close the door behind me. I walk over to Chris’s bed and flop down. Chris chuckles. “That movie was so fucking boring.” Chris says. “Yeah.” I reply. I crawl more up and lay my head down on his pillows. Chris gets up and sits in his gaming chair. “I wanna go live on twitch.” Chris says. “Then do it.” I say back. “Will you stream with me?” He asks. “Sure.” I say.

He loads up the stream and starts it as I sit beside him on a small chair. The chat flows in as everyone asks who I am since I’m never in their videos. “This y/n.” Chris says to the computer. I smile slightly. I shake my leg out of pure anxiety. Chris puts his hand on my thigh as he talks into the computer screen. I blush a bit as he puts his hand on my thigh.

Chris looks at me “you okay?” He asks. I smile and nod. “Yeah I’m fine.” I say. Matt barges in the room. “How come your streaming without me and ni- woah there…” Matt says. Nick follows up behind Matt as his eyes go wide. Chris takes his hand off my thigh almost immediately. “Shut the fuck up matt.” Chris says. Matt just chuckles and walks away. Nick also just walks away.

After a bit Chris ends the stream. He faces towards me. He grabs me and I gasp as he lifts me up. “Chris!” I yell as he lays me down and lays his head down on my stomach. “My pillow.” He says and I laugh. He traces shapes on my stomach. I play with his brown locks. His hair falling through out my fingers. Chris moves more up to put his head between my breasts.

“Chris?” I question. “mhm?” He hums in a raspy tone. I stay quiet for a second. “what’s the most fucked up thing you’ve ever done?” I ask. “hmmm… I really don’t know…” he sounds as if he’s hiding something. “you’re such a little babyyy” I tease. “nooo.” He answers. He crawls more up and burys his face in my neck. he kisses my neck slowly. “c-Chris?…” I mumble. “Hmmm?” He Hums.

He continues to kiss my neck and leave hickeys all over. He kisses up to my jawline and kisses me. I instantly kiss back. He puts his hand up my shirt, feeling my body. I let a soft whimper out by accident. Chris looks at me and smiles. Matt knocks on the door. “Fuck you want!?” Chris yells. “We have to go somewhere in an hour, y/n can come to!” Matt yells back.

“What is it!?” Chris yells. “A dinner with everyone. Like sam and colby and fucken Jake and Johnnie. All of them!” Matt yells. “Alright then!” Chris yells back as Matt walks away from the door. “We have a bit of time if you want to.” Chris hints to me. I smile. “Yeah I’m down.” I say back. Chris pulls his shirt off and kisses me roughly. I kiss back in the same way.

Chris tugs on my shirt, hinting to tell me to take it off. I Peel my shirt off of my body as he stares at my tits in awe. “fuck your beautiful.” Chris says quietly. I chuckle a little at his comment. He looks up at me “what? You don’t think you’re beautiful?” He says. “You’re starring at my tits while calling me beautiful. What do you think?” I say and he just shrugs.

He kisses my neck down to my collar bone. He kisses down my stomach and undoes the string to my sweat pants. He pulls my pants down and sees how soaked my underwear is. “fucking slut. Soaked like crazy when I’ve barely touched you.” He says in a soft tone. He kisses my inner thighs, teasing me and my core. “Chrisss” I whine. “so impatient, huh?” He says as he softly places his thumb on my clit through my underwear. I let a soft pathetic whimper out.

“Pathetic.” Chris mumbles as he slides my underwear off. “such a pretty pussy, huh?” He questions. “Mhm” I mumble not really caring. He places a soft kiss on my core. I whimper. He sucks on my clit making me gasp. “F-fuck..” I moan out. He shoves a finger in my core and sucks on my clit. He curves his fingers inside of me making me practically scream. He slaps his hand over my mouth. My hands grip on to his hand and he groans at the feeling. “Chris!” I mumble against his hand. I start to grind into his face.

He pulls his mouth away fast and i whimper from the loss of pleasure. “Such a needy girl.” He says as he shove his face right back into my pussy. My legs start to shake. “Chris!” I scream into his hand as I release my cum into his mouth. He pulls his mouth away and smirks as my cum drips from his chin to his neck. “Fuck you taste good.” He says with a whisper.

Chris pulls his pants down and his underwear as his dick slaps against his stomach. I lay down on my back and my knees up. “fuck me like you mean it.” I say as I there. “will do.” He answers back. He takes his dick in hand and jerks himself off a bit. Holy shit he’s big…. He slaps his dick against my aching core. He slowly slides himself in as i whimper from him stretching me out. “fuck Chris…” I mumble. “fuck your tight..” he groans.

He thrusts his hips a bit faster than he was. He leans down and he burys his face in my neck as he thrusts balls deep in me. “O-oh F-fuckk!” I moan against his hand. “s-such pretty noises.” He mumble into my neck and his balls slap against my ass. He speeds his pace up more as he practically pounds into me. “S-such a good girl, huh?” He says. I stay quiet as I have nothing to say. He sits more up and grips my hips fucking me way faster, fucking me dumb now.

“I- F-fuc- sh- Chris!” I scream into his hand again. “fucking take this dick.” He groans as a pounds into me and I scream. I dig my nails into his back and he hisses from the slight pain. He groans at the sight of me being fuck out. “Chris Chris Chris!” I moan against his hand. “S-such a pretty girl.” He groans and pumps into me. “Close!” I yell against his hand. “Just wait.” He says with dominance.

He pulls out and flips me over. He ties my arms behind my back. He slides himself back into my core. He holds onto my hips and he starts pounding into my pussy as he did before. He puts his hand on the back of my neck, choking me. My face smushes against the pillows. “Chris Chris!” I scream as I Cum around his dick. He does one last thrust as he fills me up with his warm load, Painting my walls completely white.

He plops down beside me as we both calm down from our highs. His cum slowly dripping out of me. He pushes me on my back and taps his dick on my clit. “are you really hard again?” I ask him and he nods. I chuckle a little as he pushes himself inside of me. I gasp at the exact pleasure I had before. He thrusts his hips, pounding into me making only moan his name over and over again.

He takes one of my nipples into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around making me moan louder. I bite my lip so I’m not so loud. He pulls his mouth away and pounds into me. “don’t bite your lip, I waist to hear those pretty noises.” He says. “Fuck! Wh-what about y-your brothers?” I ask. “let them hear how good I make you s-sound.” He says. I moan as he talks and he keeps pounding me. “mmm fuck!” I moan loudly.

“fucking little slut.” He says as he holds his hand on my neck while fucking me crazy. Tears flow into my eyes from the overstimulation. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He mumbles as he burys his face into my neck, kissing my neck adding to the pleasure. “Chris!” I scream as I release. My visions going white as I release. “Holy fuck..” he says. “Did you just squirt…?” He chuckle. “My face goes red from embarrassment. “I think so…” I say with pure embarrassment.

He pumps into me one last time while cumming inside of me once again. He stays put as he fills me up. He pulls out of me slowly, making sure not to overstimulate me too much. He lays beside me.

“Did I actually make you squirt…?” He asks. “yeah…” I say. “That was the first time that happened.” I say quietly. “that’s fucken cool.” He says childishly. I chuckle. “wait.. the dinner!” I say. “Oh shit..” I get up and find something to wear. I walk over to my vanity and do my makeup.

We get all ready. “You’re so beautiful.” Chris says as he hugs me from behind. I smile as Matt yells. “Y/n, Chris! Come on!” Matt yells. We all get into the car.

We get to the dinner and me and Chris sit beside each other as then.. I feel his cum leak out of my stretch out hole. I blush and grab a napkin as I clean myself up as everyone is busy. The only one that notice was Chris. And he know exactly why I was doing that.

but at least… he fucked me like he meant it.

————————————————————

Little a/n

HERE YAA GOOO

this took me sooo longgg.

but yuh.

And byeeeede

𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

[hyewka]

please, noona | c.sb

summary; your brother forbids you from talking to any of his friends when they come over. in his words, you'd seduce them and take away their 'innocence' as if you were a witch in hunt for dick every second of the day. he's especially strict about soobin, his similarly nerdy best friend that comes over every other day to play games.

which sucks because that meant you had to be stuck in your room very often...until beomgyu finally leaves to quickly buy some snacks.

warnings; perv!soobin, titty sucking, soobin's sorta a himbo, noona kink, big useless dick, dry humping (is it a hyewka fic without dry humping???) soobins obsessed with tits, creampie, mentions of a breeding kink, soobin cums a lot, use of pet names, and of course sub!soobin + brief appearance of ex!yeonjun

You never understood why you had to be the one locking yourself in a room as if you weren't the one paying rent, and out of the kindness of your heart, let your hobo brother freeload off you. He should've been the one staying in his room instead of hogging the living room with his loser friends, but alas, you took the the role of the older sister, and let the boy do his shenanigans (for as long as your patience can handle, which you now think won't be very long).

Today was one of those days where you got comfortable on your couch, every limb of your body relaxing, in your pajamas that consisted of a lousy tank top and shorts. You don’t get these days often, most of your time spent wearing ugly work pantsuits. But of course, the comfort doesn’t last long—all of a sudden, Beomgyu's yelling for you to go to your room because someone's coming over. Again.

You’re about to take your stance, because fuck that, but he pulls you up like the little bitch he is and pushes you into a room, shutting the door before you could say another word.

"Fuck you Beomgyu! I swear to fucking god I'll kick your ass to the curbs tomorrow!" you yell at the closed door.

"No you wouldn't!" he yells back, and you raise a trembling fist in the air as if he could see, gritting your teeth, but drop it when you realize the little damned troll was right. You wouldn't go through with your promise any time soon, let alone tomorrow— you coddled your little brother too much.

When you defeatedly turn around, you immediately notice he put you in the wrong room, which pisses you off more. His room. The place was gross, clothes you're sure haven't been washed in ages discarded all around the room. Mostly on the floor.

You tiptoe to the bed, trying to avoid as much of the dirty underwear and socks, hesitantly sitting on his bed as if it was infested with bugs. Which was likely.

What you usually spend your time doing at times like these is a mindless scroll through your social media, effectively ignoring the unread messages. But when you pat around for a feel of your phone, you find your pockets are empty. You throw your head back, groaning. You left it on the couch because of how haste Beomgyu was being.

Sometimes a nap would do when he took too long to call it a day with his friends. This time, you almost fall asleep staring at the poster on the ceiling, until you figure out the voices that transcended through your walls. It was only Beomgyu and Soobin today, which meant that this might take the entire day.

Fucking great.

"It's down the street, I think." you open a shut eye, eavesdropping in what your brother was saying. Were they finally leaving? "Wait, hold on, I'll come back."

It's silent until suddenly, the door's pushed open, Beomgyu poking his head in. His brows are furrowed, one of confusion, "Why're you in my room?" You want to yell he pushed you into his shit bedroom but he shakes his head quickly, cutting off your incoming scolding,  like he was in a hurry. "Ya noona, that local convenience store's still open right?"

You roll your eyes. "Lotte mart? That's not local."

He deadpans. One thing about younger siblings was that they are impatient little shits. "Yeah, it's still open." you reply.

Not even a thanks, and he's gone. Which you expected— the exact reason you lied. They closed the location a few weeks back. He'd have to walk to the other closest convenience store, which was at least an hour away.

Serves him right.

The moment you hear the door closing shut, you get up from the bed, immediately heading out of the suffocating bedroom, and head to the living room to retrieve your phone. You don’t expect to see Soobin still there, focused on his phone—assuming he was going to head out with Beomgyu.

He senses someone’s here, so curiously he looks up and meets your eyes, then his widen like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“H-hi noona.” he quips.

You wave, giving him a quick smile– you definitely found him adorable …but you weren’t in the mood to get scolded by Beomgyu for talking to the boy. So you keep it short, walking to get your phone which rested on the arm rest to the right of Soobin.

“Hey Soobin. Just here to get my phone.”

He tucks his chin in at the proximity when you reach over him to grab your phone—you can even hear him gulp. Probably because your tits were hanging right in front of him. You give him a quick glance, tilting your head after you successfully retrieve your phone in hand.

Unfortunately, he was adamant on keeping his eyes on the TV screen, which had a game paused, so he practically stared into nothingness. You wish you had guys as cute as Soobin when you were attending college. Instead you were stuck with cocky frat boys who expected a fuck after getting you a shitty drink.

“You’re leaving?”

You halt before looking over your shoulder, “Yeah, taking a nap.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah…um, goodnight—I mean, have a good sleep, or sorry, have a good nap.”

You break into a grin, nodding at the boy. What a loss that he just had to be friends with Beomgyu.

Your legs still midway into the narrow hallway.

You don't have to lock yourself in your room. Beomgyu was gone. In fact, he'll be gone for the next three hours and that wasn’t in account of his turtle-like pace, if your estimation was correct.

You’re a data analyst for a living, of course your estimation’s correct.

So, you go back, trace your steps, and make yourself comfortable. On your own couch, in your own apartment. It’s ridiculous how rare you got the chance to do just that.

Soobin doesn’t ask questions, but he does end up straightening his posture the moment you plop down next to him. “Can you pass me the remote?” You gesture towards it with your chin.

He nods, quickly getting it for you. You hesitantly take it from him, feeling bad. Poor boy, it’s like you were making him uncomfortable with your presence. So you give him a break, scooting away, making the gap between you both awkwardly big.

“You don’t mind me watching, right?” you look at his face for a response. You could totally drop your show if he didn’t want to sit through it– you wanted to give him the option. Though to be fair, knowing Soobin as much as you did (which was admittedly limited, but he was easy to read), you’re sure he’d let you watch even if he did mind.

Which is exactly what happens as he shakes his head, “No, no, it’s okay.” You peer at him before shrugging and opening Netflix.

Unfortunately, as much as you try your best to focus on the drama, Soobin’s polite posture and silence bothers you. Usually, whenever the rare occasion of bumping into Beomgyu’s friends in the hallway happens, they try to strike up a conversation. But Soobin was rather…modest. Too modest.

You pause the show.

“Soobin.” With his name called, he immediately looks over at you. “You know you can talk to me right? I'm not the evil witch my brother paints me as, I promise.”

His eyes are wide, waving his hand in denial, still as formal as ever. “No, it’s—it’s not like that Noona! I know. I know I can talk to you, I mean. Beomgyu tells me you’re nice.” You tilt your head– you doubt that was true.

But you don’t bother. “Oh. Okay, great!” you pull up your legs on the couch, turning your full body to face him. “So, tell me Soobin, are you an introvert?”

He seems startled, like he didn’t expect you to actually start a conversation but it doesn’t last long as he nods meekly. “Y-yeah, sort of.”

“Mm, makes sense. You don’t really make eye contact when talking.” The moment the realization hits Soobin, you huff out a laugh at how fast he turns his head to look at you, his ears noticeably red.

“S-sorry Noona.”

You click your tongue, a little disappointed at how he was still so formal with you. “You don’t have to be so formal, you know? I’m only like, three years older than you.” It takes him a few seconds before he nods, though you could tell by the appearance of a dimple, that he wasn’t going to let the formal language go.

Oh well. You’ll work with it. “So, Soobin. Question. How come you’re a completely different person when playing games? You’re loud, but when in a conversation, your voice is as soft as it can be humanely hearable.”

He’s noticeably embarrassed as his face flushes. “You–you heard me?”

You chuckle, “It’s a little hard not to.”

Soobin isn’t louder than Beomgyu, but was very darn close. Which is a feat considering someone two floors above you came over to complain about Beomgyu once.

“I’m sorry, I–I don’t mean to. I’ll be careful next time.”

You furrow your brows, before lightly slapping his shoulder. “Hey, stop apologizing. I’m just joking around, I really don’t mind. Sort of already used to it.”

“Still—”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “Let’s talk about something else. Um…oh! Do you have a girlfriend?” you teasingly drawl the girlfriend bit like a middle school boy, in attempt of making him a tinge more comfortable.

He’s meek again, biting the inside of his cheeks before he lets out a quiet no.

You gasp at the revelation, a hand shooting up over your mouth. “But you’re so handsome! How come?”

You definitely played it up a bit— you weren’t that shocked that he wasn’t dating considering how often he came over and how long he stayed.

He gets flustered once more, and finally, a small smile appears. “I don’t know. Probably because I’m horrible at flirting. And probably not that handsome.”

You pout, “Not that handsome? ’M being completely honest, I think you’re the cutest guy I’ve seen in a while.”

He flushes, playing with his hands. “Yeah... cute not handsome”

You got closer to him somehow so you’re able to give him a light nudge. “Handsome too idiot.”

He smiles, looking at you with so much adoration you could just pinch his cute cheeks.

The entire time you spend talking to him felt a little more chill, his posture relaxing along with the flow of conversation being a little more natural— though you still carried it most of the time.

You found out he liked a number of things. Anime, manga, collecting figures, obviously gaming. All things you usually assumed to be a little nerdy, but it was cute how he lit up talking about his favorites regardless. You find out he’s majoring in chem too, which you would have never guessed.

You also find out Soobin might just be the most obvious peeker; truly terrible at being discreet.

You really had a hard time not laughing every time you caught his eyes so obviously looking down at your cleavage, which you forgot was so revealing through the tank top you wore. More than once does he subconsciously wet his lips before he tries to pretend like he was listening to you talk.

You understand why Soobin was friends with Beomgyu rather quickly. Most of Beomgyu’s friends were greasy pervert losers. Soobin not any different, you figured. Except it was cute on him.

"Beomgyu said you had a boyfriend.” he mumbles, the longest eye contact he’s held with you the entire time you’ve been talking to him.

You tilt your head. "…I don't? I haven't dated anyone since Yeonjun." at his silence, you figure he's not one of your girlfriends who knew the ins and outs of your dating history, "Which was four months ago."

His lips form an O shape, nodding slowly.

"Did you ask him? Why? Were you curious?" you tease, and enjoy the way Soobin stumbles on his words, cheeks quickly running hot. "N-no, he just told me."

You hum knowingly. Before you know it, you ramble about another topic but like the shameless boy he is, you catch how his eyes trail down again. This time, you decide to end it, it’s clear he wanted something so you clear your throat. The conversation was slowly dying anyway.

His eyes snap back up almost immediately, cheeks still a bright shade of pink. “Um s-so…”

“I was talking about my favorite boba place just now.” His iris panics before he chuckles nervously, “Y-yeah. That.”

You smile looking down at his hands and take a notice of how big they are. Your finger trails to one, fingertip running circles on his palm.

He’s startled by the sudden contact, but doesn't pull away immediately. “Girls at school would probably ruin that pretty face of yours if they caught you staring at their tits so openly.”

His eyes shoot wide open, pulling his hands from you like you just poured boiling water on it. “I wasn't–”

You cut him off. “I should've counted but it was probably a hundred times I've seen you look, pervert.”

His face is so red, he truly looked like a tomato. You also catch the glistening of his waterline, his lower lip quivering. “I'm sorry Noona please don't be mad I—“

“Good thing I'm not a girl from school, huh?" You're quick to stop his rambling, not in the mood to be the cause of someone's tears. "Do you want to see them?”

His brows perk up almost immediately, the crease of his forehead apparent, doe eyes looking at you so intently.

“My tits. Wanna see them?”

He nods profusely before he shoots up a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, was that a trick question? I’m sorry—”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Adorable.” you coo, booping his nose. He frowns at that.

"I'm not a kid noona, you always—" he cuts himself off when you grip the hem of your tank top, pulling them over your bare breasts swiftly, showing them to the younger boy. You relish in his reaction, ends of your lips twitching up at the way his mouth falls open, licking them as he openly stares.

God, he was such a pervert.

“Can I...can i—" his words fall dry.

“You wanna touch?”

“Please noona.”

You shrug. He scoots closer, cold hand hesitant on your breasts, sending goosebumps on your skin with the touch. “Soobin, its okay, you can touch them”

He prepares both hands above your breasts before finally holding them. He feels by a few squeezes and then he starts playing, fondling like he's never seen a pair before.

His breathing gets heavier the rougher he squeezes, and especially when his thumb glazes over your nipple, which is the confirmation you got.

He was a total loser.

You hold his wrist, getting Soobin to stop, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he slowly pulls away, wiping the slight drool on the corner of his lips. “Was I too rough—?”

"A little, but I don't mind." You get on him, straddling his lap. Soobins big eyes look up at you, gulping at the possibility that you'll let him do what he thinks you'll let him do.

You feel the bulge between your legs and laugh. "You got hard from touching me? Big baby."

He frowns, "I'm not a baby."

"Oh really?" You grab the back of his head, and shove his face between your chest. Sure enough, Soobin's mouth already latches onto one of your nipples, starting to suck. "See? You're such a filthy pervert, already sucking the moment I give you the chance."

He's stupid enough to muffle out a thank you as if letting him suck was like handing him water at deserted desert. Your shirt is over his head as his face was buried in between your chest, spit already all over it— he was incredibly messy. A bead of sweat breaks out, running down his forehead.

You're startled when he goes over to your left breast, not letting it go without attention. His tongue flicks your nipple then he starts sucking harshly making you hiss. “Hey—hey! Soobin, not too rough.”

He doesn't respond nor does he relent, very obviously busy with sucking on your nipple, his other hand having free reign on your chest. You take a hold of his hair and pull him off you, his face coming into full view, lips glistening with spit. He was a mess. "Soobin, be gentle. I'm serious."

He nods and you sigh, his head once again eagerly going under your shirt. His hips start bucking into you, trying to get off, and you're sure your chest is entirely covered with hickeys-- your nipples hard and sore from all his sucking. “Wanna be inside noona, wanna be inside you." he manages to moan, voice muffled against your chest.

You close your eyes shut when you feel his bulge pressed against your clothed slit, moving just slightly to get yourself off a little too. “Yeah? Wanna fuck me?” You feel the earnest nod of his head and it makes you pout fondly. You decide to throw him a bone, you were pretty hot and bothered anyway.

"Okay baby, I'll let you."

You've never had a man be so eager to fuck you, or for better words, be fucked by you. But that could be explained by your dating history being mostly if not all, tatted macho men who liked being nonchalant. Maybe you should fuck losers more often.

By losers, you mean cute ones like Soobin.

His dick looked intimidating when you ordered for him to take it out- the swollen tip, concerningly red, precum already leaking down the veins of his fat dick and... shit that length might break you.

He's visibly embarrassed. “Um, if its too much then you don't have to—“

You position yourself on top of him again, giving him a reassuring smile. "I can take it.”

His eyes are glistening, the living room already dark due to the lack of the previous sunlight-- it was already noon. You figure you like it when guys look up at you like you had the entire world lying on your hand- your brother's best friend's working like an awakening in weird ways.

You finally sink down on him, letting out a sigh the more his length disappears into your cunt, stretching you out all the more, already hitting places you weren't sure would hit.

His pliant head falls back on the couch when he feels the warmth of your pussy- his jaw slacked, drool trickling down his chin as he lets out a strained moan. "Noona, noona I—"

The flaring of his nose is the last hint before you feel his hot semen spurt out inside you, and just when you think it's over, you feel a little more shooting up. You stare at the boy quizzically- you hadn't even moved yet and he already came.

Soobin raises his head, lower lip quivering, so obviously embarrassed by his premature orgasm. "I-i'm sorry noona, I didn't mean to- oh my god, what's gonna happen now? I can't take care of a baby I'm still in c-"

"Woah woah, Soobin, calm your ass, I'm on the pill."

He looks at you silent with a few confused blinks, before letting out an exhale of relief. You're still practically sitting on his dick, but you still find it in you to tease him after his panic ensues, "What? Were you gonna abandon me after impregnating me? Didn't think you'd be the type Soobin. Maybe even good boys can be such bitches."

The panic returns into his eyes as he shakes his head adamantly denying your attack of his character, "No! Noona, I wouldn't do that, I swear! I-i-"

"You what?" you cut him off harshly on purpose, slowly raising yourself to finally ride his twitching cock.

He immediately senses the movement, your attempt of being slow and careful failing. He squeezes his eyes shut, and you hiss disapprovingly. "Answer your noona Soobin, what would you do if you got me pregnant?"

"W-would take care of you." He whines when you fall back on his dick, a staggering breath out his mouth. You're not sure if he could even last a mere five minutes of you riding him.

"Yeah? Open your eyes for me baby."

He does as you say, though his lids are heavy over his eyes. His gaze once again finds your chest lewdly staring at the slight bounce, and before you know it, his hands are kneading your breasts again. "I would pamper you up noona, take you to all the five star restaurants." he breathes out.

You snort at his foolish promises, "With what money idiot? If anything, I'd be the one pampering you up, you're still a college student with student debt. You'd have to start working a lot more if you'd want to pamper me."

His eyes roll back when you speed up your pace on his dick for a brief second, "F-fuck, Noona--"

You feel his cock twitching inside you, and once again, strips of his cum rush into you. You wondered how much before you milked him dry? Because the boy was still as eager as ever, head going forward in attempt to latch his mouth on your nipple again, hips bucking up against your already steady pace. "I'd work ten shifts to provide for you and- mmf-- and our baby noona." he cutely muffles against your nipple.

You laugh—he was as naive as ever, but you appreciated the thought. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Your finger twirls a strand of his black hair, the innocent act in direct opposition of the filthy sound of skin on skin, combined with Soobin's fresh load making it a lot more squelching, that bounced of the walls.

"Soobin, g-good boy, suck my tits like a good boy." Your breathing gets heavier, the way he fills you up is turning out to be a lot more addicting than you thought it'd be. You assumed pain, which yeah, it still was a little painful, but you got used to it very quickly able to start feeling the pleasure overwhelm your senses.

Soobin pulls away from your chest with a pop, slowly raising his head over your shirt to look at you. "Noona?" he calls out with half lidded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't have a boyfriend right?"

You're caught off guard with the question. Obviously if you had a boyfriend you wouldn't be riding his fucking dick.

He catches your miffed look and is quick to defend himself despite your pussy clenching around him, "I-it's just-hah! Fuck- noona, it's just someone was blowing up your phone earlier- and I didn't mean to peek but- cumming, I'm cumming noona!" he cries out, successfully letting out his words before he actually orgasms.

You had picked up your pace with every word he spoke, attempting to not ruin your own high, and sure enough, you reach it, cumming in unision with Soobin's, your head exhaustedly falling onto his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

Under you, Soobin's body was shaking, still feeling spurts of his cum. "The contact name was Yeonjun."

Your daze snaps, head shooting up at the mention of your ex. "What?"

"He kept on calling so I thought that might've been your boyfriend...but then you told me he was your ex." he replies, voice hoarse you think as a result of his rather loud whines earlier.

"I wasn't lying Soobin, he really is my ex."

"I-i wasn't accusing you of lying it's just...I don't know, I thought that maybe..."

Your subconscious drowns out Soobin's rambling, still confused that Yeonjun was ringing you up in the first place. What for? Did he leave something that he forgot to take four months ago?

That wasn't likely. You remember the day he came over to take his things very vividly. With how urgently he looked, you figured Yeonjun was serious about his belongings.

So, what was it?

With Yeonjun, it was on and off. In a way that surely couldn't be healthy for either party involved. Which is the exact reason you mutually decided to break it off a few months ago, cutting off all contact. You even blocked his socials. Each one. Instagram, snapchat, twitter, facebook.

Except for the most important, most relevant way of contact- his phone number, of course. And look how that decision bit you in the ass. You're totally overthinking why Yeonjun decided to call you, and you will when you go to sleep later today, and then the day after and-

You're not falling down that rabbit hole again.

You start moving your hips again pushing through the uncomfortable feeling. Soobin was less resilient, a disapproving whine coming from the back of his throat when you grind in his lap, his dick still deep inside you rubbing between your walls. "Noona--" he shrieks, when you start bouncing again, this time a lot harshly as you bit down on your lip.

"No more, can't- nng-" you shut up his blabbles by stuffing your breast in his mouth again. Of course it did the job.

"Filthy boy, you'd probably enjoy sucking my tits when I'm lactating."

His teary eyes look up at you, needy and twinkling under the dim light that was the living room. He wasn't denying it. Instead, he swirls his tongue around your bud, clearly getting off the thought.

"Fuck, you really are filthy." you breath out. Speeding up your pace, Soobin's unable to stay latched onto your nipple, jaw-slacked, his brows pointing upwards, unable to urge you to stop. Instead, he helps you out by bucking his hips forward, slamming his dick inside you.

A knock on the door gets you to halt your movement. Soobin still moving erratically under you. But then you slap him gently, trying to get his attention. “I think i heard—“

The knock of the door cuts you off. Facing Soobin with a wide eyed look before you jolt off him, hurriedly looking for your underwear and shorts. You lost track of time, clearly! If Beomgyu finds out you fucked his best friend, you'd be done for. He'd hate you for life. Never talk to you again.

“Soobin hurry the fuck up and go answer!” You shout in a hushed voice, frantically pulling up your shorts.

He nods, the panic contagious as he stumbles around pulling up his pants. You take a second to look over him and you curse under your breath. His cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips glistening with spit, hair strands poking out all over- fuck, he looked bad.

You attempt to pat his hair down, at least to make it a little neater, but a third knock and you're sprinting towards a room, hiding behind your shut door.

You press your ears against your door, hoping to pick up how the conversation was going. A few beats of silence, and you finally hear the unlocking of the door after a few struggling attempts from Soobin.

“Who are you?" you furrow your brows- that wasn't your brother. "Oh wait, are you one of Beomgyu’s friends?”

It was Yeonjun.

At the realization, you crack your door open, trying to peek down the hallway. You didn't have a good view but you figured it'd do.

“Yeah? Who are you?” you hear Soobin ask, his breathing sounding like he just ran a marathon. You squeeze your eyes shut- could he at least try to mask what just happened? Be a little less obvious?

“Tell Y/N for me I came over. Say it was Yeonjun.” You catch the way Yeonjun's eyes visibly look up and down the younger boys state, wondering if he caught on. “Her boyfriend. Tell her her boyfriend came over.”

Soobin bites the insides of his cheeks in attempt to not bark back at the lie, opting to just nod. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Yeonjun nods, flashing him a smile before patting his shoulder. “You look rough buddy, take care.”

Sure enough, Beomgyu shows up right then and you out of instinct close your door shut when you recognize his mop hair. Though it seemed no matter what, you couldn't escape his annoyingly blaring voice. "Oh? Yeonjun? Hey dude, haven't seen you in a while."

Yeonjun greets him like they've been close since forever... which is total bogus, they barely talked. Yeonjun finally excuses himself because he was 'just leaving'. Leaving Soobin and Beomgyu alone.

You once again try to pry in their conversation, praying Soobin could play off the way he looked and you could finally head to the comfort of your bed.

"Sorry I took long, my bitch sister lied to me. Deadass had to walk five hours to get these- You good Soobin? You look sick."

You briefly smirk sinisterly at the fact that you got Beomgyu's ass, but then the cold sweat breaks out again because the stupid fuck noticed! And now, you're impatiently tapping your foot on the floor, awaiting Soobin's response.

"Yeah dude, sorry, um, I-I have to go use the bathroom."

Internally you slap your palm on your forehead- to hell with being convincing. Consequences of choosing Soobin out of all of Beomgyu's friends to fuck you guess.

a/n; feedback (or a reblog) is always appreciated on my end lol need me someone to talk about soobin and his breeding kink because it's definitely there. oh and how hes the biggest boob guy..i dont make the rules!!!

[snickerdoodlebaby]

Deok-su NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: NSFW!, he’s so daddy, age-gap, Deoksu is kinda misogynistic like in the show

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Things I just know this man likes…

Choking, spitting, hair pulling, you sucking on his fingers, fingering you

Calling him daddy. Maybe he berates you for something, like “Nice going back there. Next time stay in the back where the rest of the bitches are.” and you say “Yes daddy.” quietly, looking up into his eyes and then walking away. His eyes follow you as you walk away, chewing on the nickname and his ego swelling in his chest. He watches your ass as your hips sway from side to side, as did his goons. A young supple soft-looking girl just referred to him as daddy, in front of everyone in earshot. He was going to take it as what it looked like, and decided he would search for your face among the beds that night. He needed to know where your bed was.

Deok su picking you up like you weigh NOTHING, this man is strong

The other players who have observed you two during the games notice a bond forming between you and Deok su. Something of a father-daughter relationship, most people assumed.

Saying sorry to him over and over, sorry daddy I’m sorry daddy sorry

Referring to him by his name, and he’s like “Deok-su?” And questions it with a expecting look at you and you knows he’s mad, and you feel so bad, apologizing and calling him what he should be called—daddy—and sucking his dick later on your knees in the bathroom as apology. “What is my name?” “It’s daddy. It’s daddy, I’m sorry dadd-aaughmmfgh” your eyes water and his dick reaches the back or your throat and a waterfall of watery drool runs down your chin. He’s smirking crookedly down at you with a big hand on your hair.

Deok su fucking you against a wall and squeezing your cheeks together and slapping your face talking right into your ear telling you to be quiet, choking you calling you a bitch

Flashing Deok su when you catch a brief moment alone together. Maybe you’re the first two to finish a game and you are waiting in the main room. And he eyes you from across the floor and smirks like he’s surprised you stayed alive, and you notice no one else is there yet, so you take the opportunity to flash your tits at him. The double take and then the blatant stare was priceless. You let your shirt drop as quickly as you lifted it when the voice of another person sounded nearby.

Having a crush on Deok su immediately once entering the games. When he fought that random girl you got wet and felt guilty about it the entire next day when everyone was sent home. But you also couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you, the way he was so brutal and how hot he looked while doing it. You were euphoric when you saw him standing there, middle of the floor with his big arms crossed across his chest when you returned the following day. You’d do anything to have him slap you, god. You needed to hide your desperation for him because it could be a sign of weakness.

You kind of wanted to get on his bad side sometimes. You hoped and fantasized that he would pin you against a wall and talk down to you, maybe even choke you if he was pissed enough. Your thighs clenched at the thought.

You just know he knows how to fuck a girl properly, unlike your experience with a lot of guys your age.

Someone that looked old enough to be your dad, holding you close, touching you, attracted a lot of attention. Your soft round face made you look even younger, people passing by assuming a father-daughter relationship, shocked when they saw you later sitting on Deok-su’s lap as he fondled your tits in his hands.

Deok su was proud to claim the sweet young innocent-looking girl and corrupt you and pull your long hair. It was like you were a big prize, a swell to his already huge ego.

Hates your attitude and threatens to teach you a lesson often. “Hate that fucking attitude of yours.”

Holds you down on his cock during a blowjob. Grips your hair in his fist and forces your head up and down on him. You’re choking, crying, slobbering, spitty and gagging as he assaults your throat relentlessly.

“Ahh, harder daddy—” You whimper. “Is this hard enough for you?” He responds.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Have You Strung, Strung in My Web

Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

You and Billy try to make it clear that you want more, but you keep missing each other.

part one part three

The bed shakes and squeaks as Billy pounds into this girl-what what her name? Jamie? Jackie? Definitely something with a J, but that doesn’t matter. Her usually just calls her “bitch” and she responds to that quite well.

She’s responding exactly the way he wants her too, so close to coming, but he doesn’t care. He actually couldn’t give less of a fuck. He’s only going this to get over you. He knows the only way to get over someone is to get under-well in this case, on top of-someone else.

But it’s not working. In fact, all he can think about is you and the way you made him feel so good. He wants that again. He wants it so bad but he’s not going to ask you not matter how much he wants to.

You have to initiate it because if Billy does, he’s gonna look like a goddamn pussy. He wouldn’t even know how to initiate it. He’s always the one being approached, and he certainly doesn’t fuck the same girl twice. That’s not who he is.

Then what makes you so different? Why are you the one he wants to break all his rules for? He doesn’t know but he wishes he did, wishes he could make sense of his feelings. Because being around you makes him feel like he can be himself. He doesn’t have to put on that persona he does with everyone else.

He zones back in as the girl finishes and he’s never been so eager to pull out, so he does. He didn’t even come and for the first time, he doesn’t care. He just wants her out so he can be left alone.

Thankfully, she knows her place and is quick to leave without even so much as a goodbye. Billy just stands there, facing his closet, now feeling like he needs a shower. He really needs to wash off this girl’s perfume along with the entire experience because now he feels dirty.

He heads to the bathroom and as soon as the faucet is turned on, he immediately feels a lot better. He stands there as the steam fogs up the mirror and as he wipes it away and looks at his reflection, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t recognize himself. Is that a smile he sees? Who hell is that staring back at him? He has no idea but he kind of likes it.

He gets into the shower and feels himself relax. In here, no one can bother him. Not his dad, not Susan or Max, and especially not you. Then why are there flashes of the two of you showering together in his mind?

He wants to have you pinned against the wall as he fucks you senseless, showing you who’s really in control. He let you take over that one time, but if he were to fuck you again, he’d be the one in charge. That’s how he operates, how he likes it. How he needs it. He has say about anything else in his life so sex is what he relies on in order to have some control.

After he’s out of the shower, he’s thinking about calling you. You told him not to be a stranger, but he’s nervous to actually give you a call. He also doesn’t want to go ask Max for your number because he’s sure that she’ll tease him about it.

He wonders if you’ll be home if he just shows up. Or maybe Chief Hopper will be there and grill him about his intentions with you. Yeah, he doesn’t want that. He knows your dad doesn’t approve of him, that much is clear. He’s been arrested for so many fights that he’s seen Jim Hopper more than his own father.

What would Jim say if he knew what Billy and his daughter had gotten up to the other night? He definitely wouldn’t make it out of the cabin alive if he ever found out. Because you’re Jim’s little girl and he’ll always think of you as such no matter how old you get.

He decides against contacting you altogether as he gets dressed. He wouldn’t know what to do or say and figures that you’ll reach out eventually. At least, he really hopes so.

“So you really went and did it?” Steve sighs as he looks at you from where he’s sitting on his couch. He’s there for your Friday night movie you do every week and the two of you are just waiting for the others to show up.

“Yep,” you nod, knowing that he has no interest in hearing anything about it and you respect that.

“Gross,” he grimaces. “Did you…enjoy it?” He honestly just wants to make sure you’re safe and that’s it. He feels like your older brother sometimes even though you’re the same age. He just wants to protect you.

“I did, actually,” you nod, trying really hard to keep the smile off your face. “ And he did too. I sense that he’ll be calling me any minute now.” You glance at the watch on your wrist. Billy hasn’t called you all weekend which doesn’t surprise you. Calling isn’t really his thing and you don’t care anyway. You guess it was only meant to be a one time thing.

“Yeah, good luck with that pipe dream,” Steve scoffs.

“It could happen.” You’ve now crossed your arms over your chest and Steve can’t help but laugh at your optimism.

“Need I remind you that we’re talking about Billy Hargrove. He’s not me.”

“And thank god for that,” You reply as a knock sounds at the door. You head over and open it to see Robin on the other side. You usher her inside and take the six pack of beer she’s carrying as she follows you inside.

Steve takes the beer from you and takes them to the kitchen, leaving you alone with Robin. The two of you take a seat on the couch as you wait for the others to arrive. Robin is someone you feel like you can tell absolutely anything to. There are things you can discuss with her that you just can’t talk about with Steve.

You want to tell her the truth about Billy. That you’re convinced he’s the best you’ve ever had and you’re desperately waiting for him to call you. But you don’t. You can’t. You know how much she dislikes Billy and you supposed she has a right to because it’s for the same reasons why you hated him.

But now that you’ve slept with him, you’ve seen a different side of him. It was softer and gentler and you wonder why he’s not like that all the time. You’re sure that he could get more women into bed if he behaved just a little bit more like Steve. But the day that happens is the day Hell freezes over.

“So what’s new with you?” She asks, scooting closer just in case there’s something you want to say that you don’t want Steve to hear.

“Just been reading,” you reply, which is partially true. You have been reading a lot. So much so that you’ve already finished all the books you own and had to buy a couple more to hold you the last couple weeks of summer.

She eyes you suspiciously and you know that she can tell that there’s something you’re not telling her. She always can. But your lips stay zipped. She’s not getting anything out of you. And you can’t imagine how she would react when you told her that you slept with Billy Hargrove.

“What have you been up to?” You ask, giving her a little nudge. “How has it been with Vicky?”

“Really good,” she replies and you can see a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“Good,” you nod. “I’m really happy for you, Rob.”

“And I’m happy for you,” she nudges you back. “With whatever you’ve got going on.” She winks then stands from the couch. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Robin-“ you’re about to chase after her, but there’s another knock at the door before you can. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie are on the other side, all holding what you asked them to bring except for Eddie who always conveniently forgets every time. You’re not even sure why you even ask anymore.

You usher them all inside and once all of the snacks are on the coffee table, they all take their favorite spots in Steve’s living room. You’re on the couch next to Steve and he starts up the movie which just so happens to be a horror movie that he’s actually terrified to watch.

As you look around at your friends, you hate that you’re wishing that Billy would call, even worse, that you want him right next to you as you cuddle into his chest. You want to cuddle into his chest at the particularly scary parts as he comforts you, telling you that he;s going to be okay as he rubs your back sympathetically. What is wrong with you? Why are you even thinking about him in that way? You slept with him once and automatically think he’d want to be your boyfriend? This is Billy Hargove and Billy most certainly doesn’t have girlfriends.

-

Billy keeps to himself the rest of the day. He doesn’t even go to work because he’s afraid of running into you. He doesn’t want to do something he’ll regret like telling you that he likes you or something. He just holes up in his room and thinks about nothing but you, wondering what you’re up to, if you’re thinking about him like he is about you.

You’ve fucked with his head, used some sort of sorcery on him because he’s never felt this way about anyone before. He wants to see you so badly, even just a glimpse will help. So before he can stop himself, he’s throwing on his shoes and hurrying out the door so fast that Susan isn’t even able to ask him where he’s going. To be honest, he doesn’t even know.

But when he pulls up to your house, he realizes just how crazy he is. Why is he showing up unannounced? He could have at least had the decency to call first. But that’s not him. It’s just like Billy to randomly show up without even so much as a phone call. He doesn’t know why, but he just feels like you deserve better.

He nervously knocks on the door and is taken aback when Jim Hopper answers the door. He looks like he really doesn’t want to be bothered and Billy is so close to just making a run for it. Jim is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, surely wondering what the hell Billy Hargrove is doing at his house.

“Hargrove,” Jim greets and Billy nods, putting on his most charming smile even though he knows it won’t work here.

“Jim, hi.”

“That’s Chief Hopper to you,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “Now what do you want?” Billy really is considering leaving because he actually doesn’t know what he’s doing. But then he sees a tiny glimpse of his sister and for once, he’s actually grateful for her existence.

“I’m actually here to pick up my sister. Dinner is soon and Susan wanted to make sure that she was home for it.” He’s smiling even weirder now, so proud of himself coming up with that on the fly.

“Max,” Hopper calls out to the girl and she’s quick to head over to him, her eyes widening at seeing her brother at the Hopper residence twice in one week. “Your brother is here to pick you up.” He says the words like he doesn’t believe Billy and he doesn’t. But he’s going to let him off the hook. This time, at least.

Max heads out the door and as soon as it’s closed, leaving her alone on the porch with her brother. She glares at him, one of the few people who can see through Billy’s bullshit. He’s up to something and she knows exactly what it is. It’s no secret that there’s something going on between the two of you and she’s going to do everything in her power to get the two of you together. Why you would willingly want to spend time with Billy, though, she has no idea.

But if she’s going to help him, he’s going to do something for her. That’s the deal, the only way any of this is going to work. It’s going to take a lot of work to make Billy boyfriend material, a chore in itself, for sure. She wonders how much she can get from him if he offers to help. Because at this rate, he’s going to need all the help he can get.

“What the hell was that?” She finally asks as she follows him down the steps. He’s walking so fast that she can barely keep up.

“Nothing,” he replies as he throws the driver’s side door open, Max heading over to the passenger seat.

“Nothing, right,” she winks as she gets into the car and for once, Billy actually makes sure that she’s fully in the car before he speeds down the road.

-

You and Steve finish cleaning up his very messy living room after the movie. You’re the only ones left. Steve’s going on and on about how unrealistic the movie was. But you’re not listening. You’re wondering why Billy hasn’t called and you don’t know why you care. Clearly it was only meant to be a one-time thing and you were just reading too much into it.

You can get his pretty moans out of your head. Images of his head leaning backwards, those sounds falling from his lips flash across your mind. You need to just get over him. Life’s too short to be anxious about getting a call from a boy who wouldn’t have even given you the time of day of sex hadn’t been on the table. Isn’t that the only reason why he agreed to meet you?

After everything is cleaned up, you say goodbye to Steve and make your way home. Only, you’re not turning onto the right street. You turn left when you’re supposed to go right and now you’ve ended up on the road that you’ve driven down so many times. You recognize every house since you bring El here almost every day before you go to the pool.

You honestly don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not thinking straight and are clearly blinded by your anger. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re so mad at Billy and you feel like he deserves to know how you feel.

You stop in front of the house you could draw from memory then quickly get out of your car. You’re stomping up the driveway and towards the front door, knocking furiously before waiting for someone to answer it.

Just your luck, it’s Max who’s on the other side. She gives you a suspicious look but then it quickly turns almost into pity. You can do so much better than her brother and she has no idea why you’re settling.

“He’s not here,” she tells you and actually feels bad when your face falls. “You just missed him, actually. But don’t worry, I’ll tell him to give you a call.”

“Thanks Max,” you smile lamely and she mimics it before closing the door.

You make the drive home and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the night, trying your best to not stare at your phone that sits on your desk. You’re silently begging it to ring, but when it reaches midnight and there’s no call, you eventually just decide to forget about the whole thing and go to bed. From now on, in your mind, Billy Hargrove doesn’t even exist.