#victor n

[capsensislagamoprh]

It was dark, it was cold, and it was well past his bed time. Otabek didn't know why he stood outside, his eyes focused on something he couldn't see. He didn't know why his ears rang with the slow rushing of blood pumping thrugh veins. He only knew he had to follow the call. It had started earlier in the day. A faint cry, like someone several rooms away asking for help. He'd spent the dawn wandering from place to place, irritating his minders. It wasn't until he was at the ice rink that he heard the sound with any clarity.

Discordant, vibrating with a melancholy intensity, the city itself cried. His child's frame stiffened as he drew a hand over his face, imagining a mask and helm being put into place. He took a step off the ice, his blades seeming to cover themselves - or perhaps he completed the task with his own effort, it was hard to tell. He could feel the tell-tale itch to mount a steed made of shadows and deepest night. He could feel the weight of a sword at his hip. Weapons seemed near, and potent, though this body had never touched them.

Step by step he walked towards the source of the sound. The city screamed. It called out pain and blood and agony. Otabek picked up his pace, his direction as true as the discordant snapping of a guitar string.

The second he was out of sight he felt himself slip thrugh a shadow. The world he traversed now looked exactly like the one he'd just left - sans people. There were great beasts and monsters walking along threads of webbing, only occasionally paying him heed. His steps took him thrugh this landscape with no care for limitations or speed. If there was a shadow, he slipped thrugh it. In a mere three steps he'd managed to leave the fun and joy that seemed to permeate the great rink and all its surroundings, finding himself in a decent - though not wealthy - aria. He could feel his clothes taking on weight, armoring him in dark leathers.

The building is older construction. A familiar car sits outside. He's on the side of the shadows, and they do not convey sensations as fiercely, nor as true. Closing his eye, he steps into a pool of darkness by the back of the house, falling into the real.

There are sounds children shouldn't hear. There are things children shouldn't do. Places they do not go. Something in Otabek removed these limits. Something in the way he saw things, in the need of the people around him. Right now the need was sobbing, the city crying. He walked thrugh the shadows, appearing in the cold corners of the building. He felt the pain of small voices. He heard the sound of their bruises. He saw the frayed threads of their hearts.

The sound of a heavy foot drew his eye. Someone was stomping towards him. They reached, he dodged. They struck out, he fell back. His hand fumbled along for something he could use. A broom came to hand. He held it aloft like a quarterstaff. The man broke it with a kick. Dropping the side with the sweep, Otabek held the stick like a two handed sword, pulling shadows into him - including the ones in the man's heart.

A weapon of night, etched with the fire of the soul. A blade of obsidian, etched gold in glory. It cries, it sings, it forms into being. A flick of his wrist and it becomes sharper than sharp. Snicker-snack it hums as reality tears. The Hero is in a daze. He dose not know what he does. Children should not see such things. There are things children do not do.

This place tho, this place the Hero goes. A body lays broken at his feet, black ringed green, purple with busted capillaries. His once fine skin is a riot of agony. From his enemy's pocket the Hero takes a key. The door he opens leads down dark stairs to a damp room. There is another door, one tucked behind metal shelves cluttered with unused things. It is hard to move it aside. By the time he's got it out of the way he feels danger rising again.

Steady hands open the door and inside are people. There fear should please him, but it dose not. There panic should fuel him. It makes him feel great unease. The Hero is unseelie. He should drink in all dark things. The Hero knows what darkness is, and what feasting on it brings.

When he feels the danger rise to a screaming concerto of desperation and agony, when he hears that faint electric hum of warning from the city, he turns, gloved hand digging into the streams of terror the people trapped in that dark room feel. It becomes a weapon. A whip of ribbons the colors of old bruises and fresh blood. They snap, cut, bind and bite into the previously unconscious man.

He dose not see what fey eyes see. To the outside world a boy with death in his eyes turned in stoic resignation, locking gazes with a man much larger, far more powerful than him, a broken broom stick in hand. It was lucky, they would say, that the criminally connected house breaker had a heart attack. He died before he could do something horrific to the boy, like he'd done to those stuck in that room. The family would remember a boy with determined eyes and an iron will. They would see the welts and bruises forming from the fight upstairs. They watched, to the last, as he set the broken handle down as reverently as one would a precious treasure. On shaking legs he disappeared into the house.

The shadows took him back to the rink. As he stood there, slicking back his hair, remove the imagined helm, he realized people had been looking for him. He'd been gone the length of the lesson, and his minder was here to collect him. With out a word he put his small body into the car, saying nothing.

What could he say? He wasn't quite sure why he'd done what he did, only knew that he should. He'd wake up in the morning thinking it only a dream, the news saying it was something.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20

[aaksuitac]

[04:24 am] “what are we?”

wc: 2.3k

a/n: [fluff viktor brainrot thanks to @dilemmars. t dije q me vengaría baby, así q zas, un payback por tus podcasts jdjfjjsd. hope u like cause its ur fault]

he’s humming something you don’t quite understand, a distant tune that sounds familiar —probably you’ve heard him sing it before—, and even if you don’t recognize the melody aside from that, you can’t help but appreciate it.

his hands fidget with whatever he can reach as he sighs once more, as if he was stealing breaths from the world, heavy, almost as lidded as his eyelids. his hair falls on his eyes and in between his slender fingers while he curls the untamed strands, and you fall into an endless pit of staring at him as he scribbles, grunts, sighs, and finally pinches the bridge of his nose.

“statistically speaking, i’m starting to feel like the chances of me getting this right are adversatively proportional to the chances of you accidentally swallowing a fly.”

and you just blink, once, then twice.

he stares at you, gives you a pointed look. he can’t really say if you understood that you were just staring at him with your mouth parted, but you squint at him, snickering.

“what,” his low voice fails to ask, unbothered, knowing that you’ll answer regardless.

and you do, answering. “you haven’t even uttered a word in a while. i was just surprised that you could still talk, is all,” you grin cheekily, playing with a screw on the table as you turn left and right on the chair you’re sitting on.

viktor looks at you, and he can’t help but crack a smile. point for you.

“what you laughing for, mhh, mister science?”

“isn’t it enough to bother me from the moment i get inside the lab in the morning that you need to do it at night too?” he pretends seriousness, side-eyeing you teasingly.

“fair enough. i will consider your offer, man of fleeting memory, and take it upon myself to bother you longer.”

his mean stare wouldn’t even make a kitten mewl, but you take you hand to your heart, pretending to be wounded.

“don’t look at me like that! you’ll hurt my feewings,” you pouted, much to his amusement.

“fleeting memory?” he scoffs, accent rolling off his tongue. “when’s the last time you lost a hairtie, mmh?” he mocks.

“unfair!” you can’t help but giggle as you pretend to hide your hair from his view. point for him. “besides. i take better care of my hair than you do of yours.” you pouted smuggly. “mine looks prettier.”

“what?” he finally asks, letting out a chuckle this time as his eyes land on you for the first time in the good part of an hour.

you play with your hair to style it, and funnily pose, hands on your cheeks as you lay your elbows on the table.

“what, don’t I look pretty?” you smiled, letting out a cheeky giggle.

yes. he doesn’t say it, but his eyes haven’t dodged back to his papers just yet. it’s another point for you. so very pretty.

he doesn’t dare. he knows it. his mind, or at least the small portion of his mind that still ties him with the occasional reminder that he’s human, looks at you and wants you in a way that he’s never wanted before.

so viktor resolves in looking at you. maybe only for a moment, maybe only on those fragments of time when he’s tired enough that he looks at the stars and at the moon, yearning to reach them, only to think he’ll miss the moonlight, finally blinking to the realization that he had been staring into your eyes for too long.

his eyes are dull as he stares at you, and your expression of worry at the fact makes his heart skip a beat. “viktor?” you mumble, softly, sleepily, warily. he can’t stop staring at you, and while he supposes success and defeat can look the same in a mirror —therefore, he doesn’t really blame your confusion—, he finds no words to explain which one he’s feeling as you move your chair towards him by a push against the floor, solely accompanied by the sound of the little wheels rolling to him.

he grabs his walking stick and turns it around, pretending to poke at your chair, as if to teasingly shove it away. if you realize that he settles the walking stick just in the correct place so that your stool can’t move back, he doesn’t know. viktor just stares at the floor, to pretend that maybe the way your eyes turn tender when his reflection shines on them has nothing to do with what you’re about to say.

tsk, tsk. clueless viktor.

he’s expecting it, yes, but even with that on mind, he can’t phathom how your course of action chooses laughing as you fidget with the loose button on his vest, the second one from the top down. viktor purposely forces himself to stable his breathing, worry seeping into him, thinking that maybe you could feel his heartbeat grow faster beneath the layers of clothing.

and he feels like the remnants of a cheap ring that stain a finger blue, when comparing himself as he stands —sits— close and next to you. maybe its because you usually wear rings, and he can feel the ghost of them as your hand trails up and absentmindedly fixes his collar.

he can almost see it. your mind working, the pieces falling into place, the—

“either my eyes are deceiving me or yours have been on my lips for a rather long time.”

and he can just. blink. as if that could break how mesmerized he feels, how his heart swells up and covers his throat, how inexplicably he feels when you’re with him, near and alone. the need to know more. the need to use every trinket and screw to map out your body for him to explore, and to map out the wonders of your mind for the world to admire and maybe then find out the reason of his inability to look away.

he was so focused before. used to be.

he is. now, at you. of you. on you.

you.

another point for you. he isn’t keeping count, but something tells him he’s losing.

and as his gaze falls back to your lips in between a battle against your eyes, lost in which to stare and sink into their devotion, he hesitates again.

he thinks its funny. so funny, viktor holds back the dry chuckle that threatens to go past his lips. how to cherish you in a way that matters. how to love, the scientist wonders. is there a way that would allow him to unveil and unravel himself to you? could there be some kind of language, able to express the depth of his insides, that you, too, could understand?

what is love, anyways? is he in love with you because his coffee tastes better when it matches the dark of your pupils? because when he takes the mug from your hand and his fingers brush against yours, it seems warmer? because he notices how the dark shade in your eyes seems to mix with that of your irises, and the way the black eats the colour when you stare at him? because he claims to hate company while he studies alone, but one chair remains empty as he works, waiting for who it was meant for? because when he fails and surrenders himself to the fall, throws his walking stick against the wall, he yearns for your embrace and how your hair smells in the evenings?

is that love? and if it is, could you understand it?

if it is love, and he could say it, would such a short word convey its meaning, or was he speculating just a couple of paragraphs ago? was he assuming the meaning of what love entails?

even so. if he said it, would you repeat it? would you claim you love him because he loves you, claim to love him too? would you instead claim to love him despite everything, even the uncertainty of love itself?

…does he accept it himself?

he’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of voices in his head. there’s too much chatter. too many questions he can’t answer, too many commas, too many question marks. too much, too much, too many.

so he silences them. makes the voices dim to a deep silence. and when his lips find themselves suddenly against yours, he finds out the true, effervescent meaning of quietness.

his hand fails to pull you closer because of the damn walking stick that gets in the way. or maybe its the chairs you’re both on that clash against each other. maybe its matter itself. for a while, its the first time viktor doesn’t want to know.

in a bold statement, he couldn’t give a fuck.

he’s kissing you.

and it should be bad because of all the unanswered questions. he’s skipping procedure. he’s gone from the fuck around to finding out and he doesn’t know where he is at this point.

what he does know, is that your hand pulls him by his necktie, and he’s gone. science? yours only. the science that he’d study all of the nights he may have left. the science behind what makes you. the science behind how your hand craddles his face while stroking his cheekbones. the science behind how you’re the closest you’ve ever been to him and somehow still not close enough. the science behind the reason why when you pull away makes his heart beat so loudly, as if it had forgotten how to a second ago.

your forehead rests against his. he shouldn’t have done that. he just… did it. maybe that was bad. was it? could it be? he had been waiting for so long too. he never thought he would…

“viktor, what are we?”

and he’s dead. he knows what the question implies, but he doesn’t want to answer. he could follow you like a lost puppy through piltover and zaun and hell knows where else. if he wasn’t dead now he would die right there and now without a second thought, because the feeling that overcame him was that love was suddenly a sentence or two away.

he knows he doesn’t dare. it’s one of the only thing he knows, one of the things he’s sure of.

but somehow, he moves. he stands up, takes the walking stick, and attempts to walk out the feeling that bounces inside him.

the walking stick always makes a noise when he walks, one with dificulties to interpret in terms of onomatopeia. not quite a thud, not deep enough to reach that quality. not a clack, for it is not entirely made of metal. still, as if it was a mix of both, he keeps walking.

viktor is nervous. thud-clack. he’s not moving far from his chair, nor is he going somewhere else. thud-clack. he still keeps pacing. thud-clack. maybe the answer is somewhere in the room. thud-clack. maybe he can reply.

thud-clack, thud-clack, thud-clack.

only does he then realize that he hasn’t answered your question. and a non-answer statement might as well be a rejection.

no. no, no, no. fuck.

he’s sitting again, but you stand up. your hair follows, long. moving and brushing against the skin of your shoulders in a way that he can’t help but claim it to be endearing.

you’re walking. you don’t make any kind of extra sound when you walk. your heels reverberate against the floor like any other, yet also they mark the beat of his heart.

he can’t reach for you. you walk too fast.

you stop when you feel the walking stick on your side. the part made for him to lean on as he walks hooks you, and you stand, not facing him.

he doesn’t use the walking stick as he stands. no, he keeps it hooked to your core, scared that you might leave. you could, he wouldn’t blame you. but he can’t allow it.

he holds it in the air as he takes one step. another step. you’re turning, surprised to see him standing, and you gasp when he lets himself fall on you.

your touch surrounds him. yes. that’s the closeness he needed. he drops the walking stick, his hands slithering on your body, pressing you against him, for no reason at all yet because it is all needs.

“what can we be?” he whispers. he takes the science approach. the viktor approach.

he isn’t too clueless after all.

he raises enough to look at your darkened, sleepy eyes. he wants to drown in them.

“if i wanted to kiss you everytime you hand me coffee, wanted you to sit on the same chair as ne and hug me from behind as I work, wanted you.” he swallows dry. “then, what can we be?”

he doesn’t want to say the words, and its petty.

it’s the 31st when the clock strickes five am and your hands travel through his hair to kiss him again. to unbalance him enough that he falls back on his chair and you follow him, sitting on his lap.

and as he kisses you, his hands worshipping the skin he can touch, the warmth he can feel through layers of clothing, he feels like maybe there’s a life worth living, so he can’t ask.

he’s heard boys and girls when he was young talk about it. “he didn’t want to celebrate our month-versary,” a girl cried as he played with his little boat, watching from afar as she was comforted by her friend.

it’s the 31st. and he can’t really ask the question now, because if he says it, how could you celebrate each month?

he moves the chair and holds you in his arms as your back falls against the table before him. maybe he can kiss you until next month. until the clock strikes and it’s the 1st.

he smiles as he kisses you, feeling you pull his necktie off. he thinks it’s the best idea he’s had in a while. and a true scientist always tries out their hypothesis.

~k.k. (☆) have fun!

aaksuitac, november 2024 ©

[dorabellingham]

La Liga

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you're celebrating the la liga trophy, but he's really drunk and keeps asking you to marry him

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a party night at the stadium, and Real Madrid had just won the La Liga championship. The team, the fans, everyone was cheering, but no one seemed happier and more relaxed than Jude. He was completely overcome with euphoria, hugging everyone who passed by —players, journalists, staff, it didn't matter who it was, he just wanted to share his happiness.

With a bottle of whisky in one hand and the La Liga trophy in the other, Jude danced and sang as if the world was watching (and it was). His smile was so wide it seemed permanent, and his laugh was contagious. When the background music changed to a lively funk, he wasted no time in starting to dance, with exaggerated steps and movements with the clumsy and fun touch of someone who was clearly a few glasses too many. In the midst of all this joy, he suddenly spotted you, who were there backstage, waiting for the right moment to congratulate him. Jude's eyes shone even brighter when he saw you, and he practically dropped the trophy, walking towards you with a passionate smile.

—BABE!

He shouted from the other side of the field, running towards you and, in the middle of the path, almost tripping over his own legs.

Arriving at your side, he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong smell of whisky in the air. Without letting go of you, he began to speak, the words coming out in a slurred and exaggerated way.

—Y/n, you are... you are the most incredible woman in the world! —He declared, his hands cupping your face adoringly. —Marry me? Please! I love you, I'm crazy about you!

You laughed, trying to keep your composure in front of your clearly drunk husband and the cameras that recorded every second of that moment.

—Jude, we're already married!

You reminded him, trying unsuccessfully to hide your amused smile.

But that didn't seem to make a difference to him. Jude continued with the scene, his eyes shining and his tone of voice rising even higher.

—No, no, babe! I want to marry you again! I need to hear you say ‘yes’!

He pulled one of your hands and, on his knees, began to make a dramatic marriage proposal right there, in the middle of the field, while the reporters around filmed and laughed.

—Y/n, my love! Marry me again, will you? Please?

He begged, reaching out to you, as if it were the first time.

You tried to contain your laughter, shaking your head in denial.

—Honey, no. Come on, get up. We’re already married!

You looked around, noticing that the reporters were absolutely amused by the situation, and gently patted his hand, trying to get him to stand up.

It was then that, to everyone’s shock and surprise, Bellingham, with the expression of a devastated man, began to cry. Yes, cry! He put one hand to his face, covering his eyes, and grabbed the microphone from a reporter standing next to him, his voice cracking.

—I WAS REJECTED! —He announced dramatically, as if he were on stage. —She doesn’t want to marry me! Everyone saw it… she doesn’t love me anymore! —He looked at the microphone and repeated it, so there would be no doubt. —Are you seeing this? My wife doesn’t want to marry me again!

The reporters tried to hide their laughter, some barely able to keep the cameras focused. You, in turn, had your hands on your face, laughing and in disbelief at the show your drunk husband was putting on. You bent down to him, trying to whisper:

—Jude, honey, everyone’s watching! Get up, go…

He ignored you completely, turning to the camera with a martyr’s expression.

—She doesn’t love me, guys. Here I am, winning La Liga, and my wife… rejects me.

He sighed theatrically as the camera focused on his face.

The crowd in the stands, who were already laughing and applauding the scene, began to scream, encouraging Jude. And he, of course, loved the encouragement, raising his fist in the air, as if he were ready to fight for that love right there.

You, still laughing, pulled him by the arm, finally managing to lift him up.

—Come on, you dramatic! Let's go home.

But he seemed unable to let the moment pass. Hugging you tightly, he lifted you in the air, spinning you around as he continued to speak towards the microphone he was still holding.

—I love this woman! She is everything to me. My wife... and the most beautiful of all!

The crowd applauded, and Jude, finally satisfied with the show he had put on, gave you a loud kiss on the cheek and finally handed the microphone back to the reporter, laughing at his own situation.

As they left the field, with his arms around her and his eyes shining, Jude whispered:

—But you’ll marry me again one day, right?

You rolled your eyes, laughing.

—We’re already married, love. Come on, let’s go home before you even ask the trophy to marry you.

[kieflo]

protagrivals in after epochs (new sasakure uk song)

[moviestarmartini]

ella es mi fiesta — jude bellingham x hispanic!reader

es la favorita, la mujer más buena / la que más me gusta de todas las nenas / es la mamacita, se me agua la boca / que no más las miro y todo me provoca.

summary: jude has completed his move to madrid, and while you watch him shine, you've got a wedding to plan.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: wedding!! tried not to specify much so it adapts to everything (methinks), good mother/daughter relationship lol, short nsfw but still 18+, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex (not endorsing it!!!), lots and lots of sappy crying, smau at both the beginning and the end, sentences in spanish, a paragraph in spanish will be translated at the end hehe

previous part

A bigger, brighter spotlight started to shine on your fiancé. 

You knew Jude deserved that and more, and you were more than satisfied with his success. If college wasn’t occupying your nights, you saw him at the Bernabeu whenever you could, preferring to sit outside than inside the VIP boxes to feel la afición you grew up with. Feel that passion and support surrounding you, coursing through your veins. 

Nothing had really changed; you still supported him through thick and thin. You cried when he scored a brace against Barcelona, and held him close after the endless recovery hours when he was injured. The fact he was physically closer only improved your relationship further. 

You never knew how much you needed to have him close by. 

But being at Real Madrid had its disadvantages. You barely got to hang out around campus to avoid people asking too many questions, wanting to know more about your relationship with the golden boy. But most of this chatter wasn't even questions about you or him, they were directed towards your relationship. 

The same comments you’d read on Twitter and his Instagram Posts— not yours, considering you decided to keep your account private for the time being. Things ranging from your age, the time you’ve been dating before the proposal to downright wishing you wouldn’t even make it to the wedding and just cancel the engagement. 

You’d discussed these comments with Jude, and his reassurance was more than enough to keep you at peace about your relationship. But the criticism only made your body burn with the necessity to prove everyone wrong. So you kept your head down, concentrating on your studies and planning the wedding on the side. You had bimonthly reports to Jude about the progress of everything, though Denise had been a godsend this whole time. Any decision you needed an opinion on, she was there to provide the most helpful insight when Jude wasn’t able.  

As he settled into the team, the teammates he grew closer to got to meet you, all of them absolutely adoring you and the pair you made with the englishman. 

“When are we getting our wedding party ask? Cama here wants to be the flower man.” Tchouameni joked, elbowing his fellow french national on the ribs as the group exploded with laughter. 

During one of the international breaks Jude surprised you with his return by joining you during a cake tasting. He wasn’t fully recovered from the injury and was sent back, having taken a few hours off to be with his ‘best girl’— he said himself. 

“Shoo, or I’m going to report to the mister that you’re playing hooky.” You stuck your tongue out while dropping him off at Ciudad Real Madrid for his recovery training. The truth was, you had a dress fitting that afternoon. Your mom, Denise, your cousin and your best friend were in attendance. 

You’d find your dream dress at a boutique in the city center, the streets crowded enough for people to recognize you and snap a few blurry pictures entering the shop. None of those wearing the dress, thank goodness, but by the time you found out people started to realize you and Jude were actually getting married that year, you were too elated to care. The dress fit like a glove, and your mom couldn’t help but sob by seeing you in it. She bought it on the spot without much consideration, and considering you were the only girl in your nuclear home, your mother was going all out for her little girl’s wedding. 

As the temperatures dropped, the planning became more frantic. You had fifty calls to make every single day confirming everything, keeping Jude updated and checking one last time for the RSVPs. As November edged in, you only felt more and more nervous. 

“Are we too insane for this? We should’ve waited for two years from now maybe…” You wondered out loud to Jude as you finished the engagement photoshoot. Brunch was your thing, so it was a playful twist on the theme. 

“Look at me,” He incited, taking your face in his hand. His eyes were full of reassurance, and it always surprised you to see how he never doubted anything for a second. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me. If you want to delay it for fifteen years I’ll wait patiently.” The photographer was already packing up his things, but perked up when he noticed the intimate moment going on. He didn’t interrupt, just taking a few candids. 

His understanding just melted away any doubts instead of reinforcing them. You scooted closer in your chair. “I’m not moving anything. The wedding’s in a month, and I couldn’t be happier.” You cooed, your fiancé humming happily as he kissed your forehead. 

When you received the pictures you came to notice those candids turned out to be your favorites. Not that the others looked bad— on the contrary, you both looked stunning— but they transported you back into that moment full of reassurance and love. 

Before you knew it, the last game of the season transpired, along with your last class before exam season took place in January after your Winter vacations. 

After your wedding. 

For your bachelor and bachelorette parties respectively the two of you decided to celebrate during the day so that night the rehearsal dinner could take place at the same cozy chateau the wedding was taking place the next day. It was more of a mixer than anything else, considering Jude had guests come from all over to the event. All of them you knew, since you both agreed to keep it tight knit on both sides. There had also been a sworn secrecy, you’ve giggled for hours reading Twitter threads speculating when your wedding was taking place when it was literally happening right under their noses. 

It had been an hour or so since the last of the guests either drove home or crossed over to stay at the boutique hotel nearby. Both of your families were sleeping in the other rooms in the venue, but the matrimonial bedroom was left for your solitude. 

“Can’t sleep either, eh?” You turned to Jude’s husky voice from the bedroom door. You got up with a nod, watching as he closed the door behind you. “Anxious?” 

“Definitely.” You agreed, pulling him down and into a hug. “Young bride was not something I ever pictured in my resume but that was before I met you.” You muttered, cupping his face and kissing his forehead. 

Jude observed your movements slowly, feeling the cold white gold against his cheek. He turned his face and kissed your palm before taking it in his hand, kissing your fingers, never breaking eye contact. He inched in, nose brushing against you and you knew well enough his intentions. 

“In twenty-four hours we’ll consummate the marriage, Belli-bear; don’t.” You warned him with a playful smile, noticing how he leaned down and kissed your neck slowly. You couldn’t resist, tilting your head back. With all the planning involved, you barely got to see anything of each other, even less intimately. 

“I don’t care.” He grumbled, sliding his hands on your thighs as you stumbled over to the edge of the bed. He sat first, drawing you over to his lap. “I’ve barely seen you in the last two months.” Jude linked your lips together, and you melted right into his lap. It was slow, taking your time. He pulled down the straps of the soft cotton pajamas, letting the top roll down and pool at your waist. 

Your bare chest heaved against his clothed one, and he removed the shirt before his hands cupped your breasts. The tension building up in the room was something you’ve never experienced before; it was mind numbing, almost. 

“I love you.” You muttered something you’ve said so many times previously, but it felt like the first time. You noticed how he swallowed hard, his eyes looking up at you with utter admiration. Instead of replying right away, his hand sneaked under the matching shorts, past your underwear. Your breath hitched, his middle fingers drawing circles slowly. 

“Yo también te amo.” He replied, licking his lips. You slightly raised your brows in surprise; it was usually the other way around. You said it in Spanish and he replied in English. Now his tongue spoke your language with ease each day. Your mouth twitched lightly into a smile, interrupted by a moan as he gathered the slick pooling around his fingers. 

“Let me take you, please.” His begging was sincere, knowing you could easily decline and follow traditions. Not that you hadn’t done it before, but maybe right before your wedding was pushing it. “I’m too eager… I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow. 

You have been feeling his boner pressing against your thigh for a while now, yet again adding to his honesty. Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles per hour, but you concluded there was nothing traditional about this in the first place. The two of you were bending the rules over backwards from the day you met. A smile still rose to your lips, pulling him into a kiss and pushing him onto the bed. 

“Take me now. Tomorrow you’ll do it forever.” You brushed your nose against his, and he switched places to lay on top of you. Without wasting any time he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear down, his own following soon after. 

“Uh, fuck— I forgot,” He looked around the room, trying to figure out if you’d brought any condoms. You pulled his face towards yours, cupping his jaw in your fingers. 

“I’ll take a pill tomorrow.” You noticed how his eyes shone in a way you’d never noticed before, and he caught your lips in his once more, brushing his tip against your entrance. You mewled, feeling the stretch and embracing it warmly. Your fiancé held you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. 

“You feel so warm,” He practically whined, starting to draw out long thrusts. You could barely reply to the praise, trying to keep your moans muffled by hiding your face in his neck. “So perfect for me, my girl.” 

He knew those strained moans like the back of his hand, the kind where you seemed to be choking on air. The way your cunt squeezed him was enough indication. “Yes, baby. Do it, cum for me.” You exhaled in a way it was apparent the permission lifted a weight off your shoulders. He held you closer to his body, allowing your moans to leave your mouth more freely without escaping those four walls. 

The stutter of his hips that came soon after, followed by a string of curses gave away that Jude was close too. You kissed his strong shoulders, giving him words of encouragement as he perched your legs over his shoulders and started a painful pace to find his release. Still, he looked down at you with a fondness that made your heart melt, leaning down for a final kiss as he pulled out and shot ropes of white to cover your lower tummy. 

“How about a warm bath?” He proposed tenderly, and you couldn’t have said no, even if you wanted to. Without even noticing you fell asleep curled up in his chest, the light steam surrounding your bodies. 

You woke up the next day to the empty bed, haven’t felt so well rested in a while. There was some chatter going on downstairs, and you peaked from the bedroom window to notice staff being led by your mother and soon to be mother-in-law assembling the ceremony venue in the vast backyard. The reality soon dawned upon you, and you wanted to throw up from the nerves and scream in glee. 

But that was the last time you were left alone with your thoughts, as a soft knock rang through the room. “Coming! Denme dos minutos!” You sprung up from the bed, quickly fixing the bed and slipping into the silk slip dress you bought for the whole ‘getting ready’ part of it. The house had a great heating system from the dropping temperatures, but you still got a matching bolero in cashmere. Upon opening the door you were greeted by your small wedding party, consisting of your cousin and best friend. Your other female family members were getting ready with you with the same team of hair and makeup. 

The greeting hugs everyone gave you were so different. They were full of warmth, positivity. You had to hold back tears when your mom hugged you, easing up all your nerves. It was as if they were confirming to you that they were there for you, sending all the well wishes for the years to come with a simple embrace. 

You had your favorite breakfast with mimosas before getting ready. Music was blasting, everyone was chatting it up and helping each other. It felt as though you were getting ready for a regular party, until your brother came knocking at the door. “Delivery for the bride.” He smiled, and the room full of women squealed. You were done with your hair already but you were going to be the last to get your makeup done. 

With a smile you kissed your brother on the cheek before ushering him out the door, taking a hold of the large box and placing it on the bed. Upon removing the lid, you gasped at the delicately placed bouquet, the one you were going to be walking down the aisle with. 

“You like it? I helped him choose. He assembled it himself last night after everyone was gone.” Denise came up to you with a warm smile, and you couldn’t help but give her a tearful nod, setting the flowers aside to give her a tight hug. You figured this whole thing was a big change for her, considering how much of a mama’s boy Jude was. 

But that embrace felt just like the others; full of support and well wishes. 

In no time your makeup started and the women got dressed, only leaving your mum to help you with the dress and the veil. “Ay mi princesa.” She exhaled, fanning her eyes as you took a step back to look at yourself in front of the mirror. You took a deep breath in, having to hold back the need to start crying. Your dream wedding dress fit you as perfectly as it did on the first fitting, and the lacy veil was as perfect as it was on your mother all those years back. 

“I think we should head downstairs. Get some pictures of our family together. Jude should be waiting outside already, so there would be no peeking.” She laughed, carefully cleaning away the tears right at the edge of her eyes. 

The following reactions were similar. Your father looked as though he was about to pass out, and your brother was left speechless. But you only cared about one reaction, and you stood perfect for the family pictures as you could only imagine how Jude would react. 

Still the anticipation couldn’t have prepared you to see him shedding real tears as you walked down the garden, unable to stop looking at you. And for a second there, you swore it was just you and him in the entire planet. 

You couldn’t stop looking at each other throughout the whole thing, no matter if you were supposed to look at the officiant. You said your vows first, eyes brimming with tears. “Most importantly, I love how you make me think I’m the brightest star in the world, no matter how bad either of us are feeling. And I promise I’ll drive you everywhere for the rest of our lives, don’t get that license, amor.” You finished with a bitter sweet chuckle. But you couldn’t have expected what Jude had to say next. 

“Uh, I’ve been practicing my vows for the past six months. If there’s any mistakes, just… keep it to yourselves.” The audience chuckled lightly, but they were as intrigued as you were. He started out by saying your name, almost breathless, “Siempre te he dicho que eres la razón por la que creo en el amor a primera vista.” You choked out a sob, as people in the audience gasped. 

Jude had written and learned his vows in Spanish. Without telling a soul. 

He apparently grew more confident, sucking a big breath in. “Y hoy, puedo decir con toda certeza que creo en el amor sincero y eterno. Todo por ti, preciosa,” His bottom lip quivered, noticing how you were made a mess, eyes full of tears. 

“Eres la estrella que alumbra mis días. Mi chauffeur que me lleva a todos los lugares sin que se lo pida.” He cleared his throat, inhaling the tears in. “Gracias por confiar en mí y en nuestro amor para llegar aquí hoy. Te amo.” 

You smiled at him warmly, and knew he would tease you later for having matching vows without knowing. The rest of the ceremony flew by, and Jude really took the ‘you may kiss the bride’ part too seriously. 

“I can’t believe you copied me…” He huffed as you made way inside the mansion, waiting in a separate room for your entrance. “…Mrs. Bellingham.” He practically giggled, and you laughed from the mirror as you were retouching your makeup.

“You’re the one that copied me! I said my vows first, idiot!” You joked, finishing the lip combo before getting to his side, holding his hand to do your entrance to the dining hall. The nerves filled you up and he noticed from the way you shifted your weight from one side to another. 

He kissed your hand and winked, and you knew everything was going to be alright. 

You found out that night most of your guests were hefty drinkers, or at least they had decided to be so for that particular occasion. But you also found out later that night that thank God you ‘consummated your marriage’ the previous night, considering you had to ask for a few of his fellow athlete friends to carry him up to the newlywed couple’s bedroom. You later laid there staring at the ceiling, stomach churning from… anticipation? The drinks? 

But even as Jude was snoring right next to you, you knew deep down everything was going to be alright. 

For the rest of your lives together.

judebellingham mr. and mrs. b 🤍

tagged: yourusername

comments have been disabled.

A/N: my bf still says we can't get married so enjoyyy this delusion i'm using to cope KFDSKLSDFKLV lowk did my dream wedding here but it wasn't at the same time. hope everyone enjoyed this sappy sappy short series !! the translation to jude’s wedding vows are in that lil note in the smau !!!

[itstheghostofmypast]

*At Luther's wedding*

Y/N: Bet you three shots he'll cry.

Five: I bet you four he'll throw up.

Y/N: I bet you two shots we'll pull through this too.

Five: seven that we'll all die, love.

Lila: Do they realise this is called alcoholism?

Diego: Shhh...just watch

Y/N: Two shots say you'll be kissing me tonight.

*Five takes two shots, smirks at her blushing face*

Lila: wtf?

Diego: It's giving love.

[creedslove]

victor creed is very loyal and will always get your back no matter what happens, even if he doesn't actually have consideration for you, if he owes you a favor, he will do things right for you

victor creed doesn't tolerate betrayal though; betray his trust and he will become a deadly enemy to you, or if he likes you very much to the point of not having the guts to be your enemy, he won't harm you but you'll be pretty much dead to him

victor creed has moral and principles and he will not harm children in any way, human or mutant, no matter what, he doesn't like hurting women either but if he must in combat well, what to do?

victor creed always addresses women as frail, but it can be also a pet name, and if you are his frail then you are his frail

victor creed has PTSD from all the wars he fought in as well as all the child abuse he went through with his father when he was just a little boy

victor creed has never considered himself human before, always an animal, so whenever you say he's a nice man, a nice guy, he can't help but feel happy and excited

victor creed likes petting and cuddling but he's not gonna admit it at all

victor creed can be a dangerous threat but if he's fond of you, he's gonna be a purring cat 😺

[tart-miano]

angry that your parody has a degree and you don't, victor

[footballfanficwriter]

Dinner with the Bellinghams

Summary:After being in Madrid for a long time, Denise has invited Jude,reader and their kids for Dinner

"Are you happy to be home?" I ask Jude

"Yeah, It's been such a long time"

We're in England, after not being here for such a long time and it's been some  time since the kids have seen their grandparents

"I'm so excited to taste nan's Chicken Roast, it's been such a long time" Alice says

"Or her creamy mashed potatoes" Alicia replies

I turn to Jude and he smiles at me

"Are we there yet?" they both ask

"That's the tenth time you've both asked that" Jude replies

A sigh is heard from behind the both of us

"We're almost there" I reply

we finally arrive and decide to park In the driveway

The minute the car stops Alice attempts to open the door, but stops remembering that it's child locked

"Dad can you please open the door"

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming"

I make my way out the car and walk to Alicia's side and open the door as Jude does the Same for Alice

The minute the doors open the girls race eachother to the front door and wait patiently for the Jude and I too arrive

Jude knocks on the door and after a minute the door opens to reveal Mark

"GRANDAD" the girls scream and tackling his legs

"My gosh look who it is, you've both grown so much, you lot are gonna be as tall as me one day"

The girls giggle and Jude and I step forward to hug Mark, Jude being the first amongst the two of us

"Hi dad, how are you" Jude says as he steps forward for a hug

"I'm good, just happy you guys are here" Mark replies pulling away from the hug and turning towards me

I step forward for a hug

"You've always been my favourite, between you and Jude" he whispers into my ear

I laugh at his comment

"How are you?" I ask

"Good, you know how it is here, a mad house"

"I'm sure it can't be that bad"

He releases a slight chuckle

"You're about to witness it first hand"

I give him a confused look but don't get to ask what he means

"Alright, come in everybody" Mark says and picks the girls up each resting on one arm and we follow behind

"Grandad, do the Magic trick" Alicia says

"What magic trick?"

"The one you always do, c'mon"

He places the girls down and squats to their level

"Alright", he reaches behind Alice's ear and pulls out a sweet(candy)

"Have you been cleaning your ears lately? He asks her

Alice giggles

"Do me next grandad" Alicia says

"Alright"

He reaches behind her ear and pulls out a coin

"My Gosh, I'm quiet certain that you lot have not been cleaning you ears lately"

Both girls giggle and Denise comes down the stairs

"Are those my favourite girls I hear?"

"NANA"

"Hello my Darlings, My goodness you both have grown so much"

"That's what grandad said"

"Well he was right look at you"

I walk towards her and come in for a hug

"Hi Mom, you alright?"

"Yeah, great, you still need to tell me about you know what"

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you much later"

"Ok"

I step away  and Jude steps forward and greets her

After the greetings, Alicia asks a question

"Did you make your chicken roast" Alicia asked

"And your creamy Mashed potatoes?" Alice asked

"Well actually, Your Uncle Jobe made dinner today"

"What?" Jude and I ask

"Yep, he didn't have any help as well"

"Lord have mercy" Jude says

"Oh c'mon I'm sure it won't that bad, right?" I ask

"Yeah, let's be positive, we don't know how it will turn out" Denise says

And in that moment Jobe walks out of the Kitchen and wipes his hands on the apron

"Hello everyone glad we're all here, Dinner is nearly ready" He says dressed like one of those chefs from ratatouille

"What are you wearing" Jude asks

"My chef outfit, it's great right?" Jobe asks

Jude looks at me with a smirk and I hit his bicept

"Be nice" I say

"Fine"

"Ok if you'd all just make your way to the dining room" Jobe says

We Make our way to the dining room, take our seats and patiently wait for Jobe to lay the food on the table

When he finally does we all look at it in horror

"Bon appetit, dig in"

Nobody moves

A sigh is heard next to me coming from Jude

"Guys, dinner is served" Jobe says with a bright smile

"Right, well here we go" I say reaching for the rice

I take a spoon full and place it on my plate

And everybody else follows dishing up for themselves

I turn towards the kids and ask them what the would like to eat

And they both tell me as I place the food on their plates

We say grace and Denise turns to Jobe

"Are you not eating love?" Denise asks Jobe trying to prolong the inevitable

"No I already had something to eat, so that there would be enough food for everyone, if anyone wanted seconds"

"Well isn't that nice of you Jobe" I say

"Thank you, now go on and eat, your food will get cold"

Everyone starts by going for different things on their plate and placing it in their mouths

Alice starts with her piece of chicken, continuously chewing it with  determination and one of her eyebrows raised

I turn to Alicia and see her trying to figure out what she's just put into her mouth, is it rice,mashed potatoes or both

Next I see Denise and Mark exchange looks and open their pastries that are in front of them to reveal a brown looking gravy with what looks like meat

A cough is heard besides me, coming from none other than my Husband

He's picking at his plate with the same facial expression as Alicia trying to figure out if it's mashed pumpkin or is it mashed carrots and why the pasta is in a ball shape

"So guys how is it?"

"Great Jobe I really like the pasta, really unique way of making it, you're gonna need to give me the recipe for this" I say

Jude and the kids look at me with horror, like I've just said the most diabolical thing in the world

"Yeah, the pasties are really delicious, I like the chicken inside it" Denise says

"That's beef" Jobe says

"Oh, well I like it very much, right Mark?" She asks

"Yep, Most definitely, really delicious"

"And you Jude, how's you meal?" Jobe asks

"Uhm, it's, I can't put it into words, it's just so good that I have nothing to say that can describe the taste, I'm speechless"

"Alicia, Alice?" Jobe asks

"Yeah, I really like the chicken uncle Jobe, my favourite, I wish mommy made it like this" Alice says

"Well I'll give her the recipe and you can have it every night"

"My God" Jude mutters under his breath

"Great" she replies with the brightest smile

"Alicia?"

"I love the Mashed potatoes, it's like nana made them" she replies

We all look at him and he looks proud of himself

"I'll go and get dessert, I made it myself"

"Oh wow, just when you think you've seen it all, there's another suprise" Jude says

"Oh there will be plenty more surprises" Jobe replies and goes to the kitchen

For a moment it's quiet, until Alice taps my arm

"Mom, what's this?" She whispers pointing to her plate

"I don't know love, I'm just as confused"

The silence resumes again, I look out the window and see Charlie the Family Dog watching us from the outside

I turn to Jude and he looks at me and I nod my head towards Charle whose outside and Jude understands

"Alright everyone hand me your plates" Jude says

"Why?"

"Just do it quickly, c'mon hurry up" he says while taking everyone's plate

"Jude what are you about to do" Denise asks

"Has anyone fed Charlie today?"

"No not yet, why"

"Well he's about to get his first meal" Jude says

And quickly Walks out the house through the front door and puts the food into Charlie's doggy bowl

He quickly walks back into the house and hands everyone their plates back and sits back down

"This doesn't feel right to do" Mark says

"The hospital is not too far away dad, do you feel like going to visit today?" Jude asks

"No, I don't"

"Alright everybody, here we are ... crepes" Jobe says

"Now mind you they are store bought so please don't kill me, Plan A Failed, it was suppose to be a trifle"

"Oh, no Jobe sorry, we know how you were looking forward to it, don't worry it's the fact that you made an effort, that what counts" Denise says

"Thanks mom let's dig in shall we?"

"Certainly"

We eat the crepes in silence until Jobe looks at our previous plates from his meal that he prepared

"You guys must have been pretty Hungry, you cleared the plates" he says

"Yeah, the meal was really divine, to say the least" I reply and everyone agrees by nodding their heads

After having dessert we all take time to relax, spending Family time and catching up on the recent events of what has been happening in our lives

"So, what did you do after she went around saying you were sleeping with the boss" Denise asks as we're now sat on the sofa she's referring to the thing I promised I'd tell her later

"I reported her, she had no right, I earned that position fair and square she had no right to sabotage me" I reply

"And where is she now?"

"Fired, they found our she was actually stealing sums of money from the firm"

"What?"

"Yeah"

"Babe, I think it's time to go home, the girls are asleep" Jude says holding each child with one arm as they use each of his shoulders as their pillows

"Alright then I'll grab my coat" I say standing up from the sofa and walking to where my coat is

"Wait, you forgot the recipes" Jobe says

I hadn't forgotten I was just hoping he did though

"Oh snap, yeah hand them over"

"Here I've already written them down for you" he says handing me 2 A5 papers

"My goodness how thoughtful of you"

"It's not a problem, really"

"Alright everyone we're on our way,thank you so much for dinner Jobe"

"No problem, it was my pleasure, do you guys want a takeaway, before you go?"

"No thank you Jobe we're quiet stuffed"

"Alright"

We way our goodbyes and drive to the home we have in England

"Hand them over"

"What?"

"The recipes"

I hand them over to him and he throws them in the bin

"Jude"

"What, we both know you weren't going to make them, they would've probably just ended up in the bin"

"Yeah but what if I actually wanted to try the recipes"

"Don't play around like that babe"

I laugh and take one of the girls from him and we walk upstairs and tuck them in their beds

"They really knew what to say, didn't they?"

"It actually concerns me how good they are at lying on the spot, what happens when they're older?"

"I don't know really, i guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there"

"Yeah, I guess"

[behindfairytales]

Victor Alli in Bridgerton (s3) as John Stirling

[thou-babbling-brook]

Truly loved seeing Arno in his single father era tbh

[jahayla-parker]

FINNICKKKKK🥰

okay what about... r and fin both being victors from district 4 and sent into the quarter qwell? and r being really shy and quite and fin is super protective of her. maybe an established relationship?

The Timid Tribute : Finnick Odair x Reader

(Finnick Odair x Victor!Reader / Finnick Odair x Tribute!Reader / Finnick Odair x District4!Reader / Finnick Odair x Gf!Reader / Finnick Odair x fem!reader)

Descr: 6k wc, Finnick and his timid girlfriend find themselves in the arena for a second time thanks to the 75th Hunger Games being the 3rd Quarter Quell. Despite the odds and their allegiance to protect Katniss Everdeen, Finnick will do whatever it takes to protect y/n.

Warnings: Hunger Games type warnings, violence, trauma, blood and injuries, fighting, death(s) [not main characters], and related. Please let me know if I missed anything!

The News

“Honey?” Finnick frowned. He watched as y/n continued to sit in complete silence, just staring at the now-black screen. “Please talk to me,” he encouraged softly while he scooted closer to her on the couch. “Come on,” he pleaded as he cautiously pulled her to him, hoping to avoid startling her. Finnick knew they were both already drowning in emotions over having heard the announcement from the Capitol just moments ago. Yet, the anguish in his heart amplified when y/n’s timid eyes flickered over to him as she visibly tried to maintain her composure. The second he saw the wobbling of her bottom lip, Finnick nodded emphatically and rubbed her back. “I know, I know,” he cooed.

“Finn…,” y/n attempted, her voice cracking. She tried to swallow the tight lump in her throat. “F-F-Finn, I… can’t, I can’t,” she whimpered, still staring at the blank television screen despite the way Finnick had her head resting on his chest.

“You won’t, okay?” Finnick vowed, his heart beating rapidly. “Chances are, you won’t get reaped,” he argued. He wasn’t sure if that was necessary statistically true. But, it was what y/n needed to hear. And what Finnick needed to be true.

“Finnick,” y/n sighed, leaning back to look at her boyfriend’s face. “M-Mags can’t,” she pointed out as she shook her head. Mags was District 4’s oldest surviving victor and far too sweet for her own good. “Annie, she… still isn’t herself yet,” y/n added, explaining why the only other surviving female victor apart from herself was not a viable option to be reaped for the Quarter Quell.

“What are you saying?” Finnick croaked, his normally honey-coated voice coming out gruff from fear.

“Finn..,” y/n whined softly. She didn’t want to have to say it. Hell, she didn’t want to even think it. But, realistically, she couldn’t let Mags or Annie be reaped. While understandably none of them would want to return to the deadly arena they once won, y/n was the only one who stood a chance. As victors of their own games, none of them were supposed to have to fight in the Games ever again. But, unsurprisingly, Snow and the Capitol changed the rules. As terrifying as it was to think about having to endure that trauma all over again, y/n knew she couldn’t stand by if Annie or Mags had their names drawn for the reaping. It was between the three of them. And while she loved them both, y/n had no faith in either of their survivals should they be chosen.

“No,” Finnick stated firmly. He sharply angled his body towards y/n. He shook his head. “Y/n, you’re not-,” he begged.

“It’s not like I want to,” y/n whispered. She felt horrible about it herself. And even more so when it came to what she was asking Finnick to be okay with. She sniffled as her guilt over worsening his predicament brought tears cascading down her face.

Finnick sighed deeply. He reached over and gently pulled y/n back towards him. “It could be Shaynee,” he argued weekly. No one had heard from the last remaining female victor in nearly two years. No one in District Four really knew if she was even still alive. But, Finnick had to hold onto the small chance that it wouldn’t be the love of his life going into the Quarter Quell. He didn’t want Shaynee to have to either. But, he’d easily admit he preferred it to be her rather than y/n.

Y/n nodded wordlessly against Finnick’s chest. She opted to sit their in silence for a moment, just enjoying his presence. As the overwhelming worry she’d had since hearing the news continued to alarm inside her head, she gripped onto Finnick tightly. “I can’t lose you, Fin,” she cried.

Finnick closed his eyes and tucked y/n’s head under his chin. “You won’t, honey,” he whispered, “okay?” His calloused and sea salt-dried hands caressed her back. “You’re always going to have me, angel”.

Y/n failed to keep her composure. She clung onto Finnick’s shirt as she sobbed. Leaning back, she gazed up at him, giving him a knowing frown.

Finnick read y/n’s unspoken argument and took a deep breath. “There are two other male victors, we’ll both be fine”. He was done having this conversation, done with this being their reality. He was done with everything that wasn’t just holding her and savoring her presence. So that’s what he did. Finnick lifted y/n into his lap and hooked his legs and arms around her as he lightly swayed side to side.

Reaping Day

Y/n timidly gazed over at Finnick from the female victors’ side of the stage. She was struggling to keep her eyes clear after having heard Mags be reaped for this year’s Quarter Quell. She knew Finnick didn’t want her to volunteer to take anyone’s place. But, when saw his evident anguish over their beloved Mags having been chosen, there really wasn’t much thought that had to go into her next move. Mags had been like a mother to him over the years. Mags was one of the only other people Finnick let himself get close to. He couldn’t lose her, and if Mags went into the arena, she wouldn’t come out. Y/n on the other hand, might actually stand a chance. “I volunteer,” y/n’s voice creaked out.

Y/n had spoken the words Finnick feared so quietly that the person drawing the victors’ names barely even heard her. Yet, Finnick’s ears had long ago been trained to pick up on y/n’s timidly soft voice. And this time, her words felt devastatingly loud. Finnick fought to move closer to y/n in order to stop her, but the peacekeepers promptly held him back.

As Y/n stood at the front of the reaping stage, she kept her eyes faced out at the crowd. She couldn’t bear to see Finnick’s anger, sense of betrayal, fear, and pain. She also couldn’t stand to see Mags’s reaction to y/n offering to take her place. Nor could she handle seeing Annie’s -while understandable- tears of relief in having escaped being reaped a second time.

Yet, when Finnick’s name was called out as the male victor headed back into the arena, her head whipped back to face him. Her knees shook as she struggled to keep standing. Her eyes were wide and already drowning in tears. All of her breath left her lungs, making her choked sobs silent.

Finnick of course hadn’t ever wanted to go back into the arena again. But, hearing his name called today didn’t phase him the way he had expected. To be fair, he’d expected that hearing it would’ve meant he’d be leaving y/n’s side. That it would’ve meant leaving her to the riots taking place lately in District 4. That he’d be forced to leave her to fend for herself while he was gone fighting for the ability to be to return to her. Only now, in reality, hearing his name read aloud from the reaping podium meant he could go with y/n. It meant he’d be able to protect her and see to it that she remain unharmed during this year’s games, at least to the furthest extent possible. Nevertheless, his heart broke as he witnessed y/n’s despair over him having been chosen.

The Capitol

Finnick glared pointedly at the female tribute from District 2. He was beyond furious with the tributes, mostly the careers, looking at y/n like she was prey as she wandered around the training facility. He knew that she came across as an easy target. And while he never judged her timidity, he knew he needed to put an end to it. She had to show that she was capable of holding her own against the other tributes. Which she was. They just hadn’t seen that yet. While he was not planning on separating from her at any point in the arena, he needed to make them understand the consequences of trying to harm her should it happen against his wishes.

Finnick smiled proudly at y/n as she cluelessly sipped on the water bottle he’d given her. She just finished unknowingly showing off her skills to a room full of leering competitors. He knew she never felt confident in her abilities, so instructing her to show them off wouldn’t have worked well for the two of them. So, instead, he simply encouraged her to train and freshen up on skills she hadn’t had to use in awhile.

“You look hot,” Finnick grinned, his hands on y/n’s waist.

“Still?” Y/n questioned, trying to figure out why the water hadn’t cooled her face. “Oh,” she giggled, catching on to Finnick’s flirtatious meaning. She playfully hit his chest, smiling as he took hold of her hands and pulled her to his chest.

Finnick chuckled and pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head. He knew he was being rather forward with such an act, but he didn’t care. They were both headed to their potential deaths and he was going to cherish any time he had left with her. Plus, he knew it would act as a warning to the others that his alliance was with y/n. And as such, he figured it would help protect her even further.

Finnick’s nostrils flared as he fought to keep his protectiveness in check. He was backstage with y/n as she nervously waited for her turn to do her interview with Caesar. He knew that several of the male victors-turned-tributes around them were ogling at the lack of coverage from the gown y/n’s stylist had dressed her in for the evening. Finnick could read the impure thoughts and temptations in their eyes way too easily; having recognized those looks far too well. He used his torso to shield as much of her exposed body as possible as he held her gaze.

“Hey, angel,” Finnick cooed, tenderly guiding y/n’s head back towards him instead of on the screen playing back his interview and the message he had intended for her. “Just breathe,” he guided as he watched her try to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “You’ll get through this and then I’ll make sure our mentors have y/f/f ice-cream ready when we get back to the dorms, okay?” He smiled at the faint grin that formed on her lip. “I’ll be right here, pretend like you’re just talking to me if it helps you connect with Caesar and the audience more, yeah?”

The Games

Finnick had agreed to Heavensbee’s proposed plan to help Katniss the instant they’d offered to get y/n and himself out of there alive. That had been Finnick’s only mission since the moment she volunteered in place of Mags. Now, he finally had a realistic way to make that happen.

Yet, that didn’t stop Finnick from panicking when he saw how far away y/n was when they rose on their pedestals into the arena. He was just glad she had agreed to listen to his guidance to stay away from the cornucopia. He knew she’d be upset that he himself went into that certain bloodbath, but he needed to get their supplies and to inform Katniss of their alliance.

Y/n scanned the arena, hoping to get an idea of the landscape before total chaos erupted. She had located Finnick’s pedestal the moment her eyes adjusted to the fake sun glaring down at them. So, while waiting for the countdown to end, she let her eyes search for any other information that might come in handy later on in the games.

When the game commenced, y/n ran along the stone path to reach the meeting place she and Finnick had discussed. They’d established they would meet at whatever the tallest item was between wherever their two pedestals rose. As she skillfully ran along the wet stones, she glanced over to see much distance Finnick had made so she could adjust her speed accordingly. Only, she caught sight of him making his way to the cornucopia.

Y/n huffed loudly and cursed Finnick under her breath. While they technically hadn’t explicitly agreed that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like heading for the cornucopia on his own, before meeting up with her, she was livid. She knew why he’d done it, wanting to get himself a trident, and surely (a) y/f/w for her. But he couldn’t be doing that alone!

Y/n whipped her head around to check her left and right for any threats as she skidded to a halt on the stone path. She took a mental measurement of the distance from her location to the cornucopia at the center of the tribute pedestals and sucked in a breath deep enough to hold her through until she crossed that distance. She promptly dove straight into the water. She felt the drastic temperature change the moment she was under the freezing water. But, thankfully her time in District 4 had accustomed her to such.

Y/n peeled her eyes open and frantically swam towards the cornucopia, her fear for Finnick’s wellbeing driving her already impressive speed. Her body relaxed ever so slightly when she saw the refracted image of him above her on the shore. He was safe and not noticeably harmed. As she reached the edge of the cornucopia, she cautiously scanned the surface before pulling herself ashore.

“Y/n?!” Finnick panicked as he protectively pulled y/n’s wet body to her feet and placed her behind him. He quickly cornered her in the back area of the dome at the center of the cornucopia. That way she was shielded from any potential impending harm. “What are you doing?!” He scolded quietly, his eyes searching her for any visible signs of injury. “You agreed to-,” he began to remind her, stopping as his head whipped forward upon hearing someone scream.

When there were two simultaneous splashes and the screaming stopped, y/n let out a sigh of relief. “I panicked,” she explained, gripping Finnick’s wrist. “I'm sorry...I shouldn't have done that, you can look after yourself...I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

Finnick sighed, and sensing there was no immediate threat, he turned around to face y/n. “No, no,” he whispered guiltily, her sorrow over having come to his defense evident in her eyes and shaky apologies. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he cooed, turning his wrist in y/n’s hand so he could hold hers. “I was just worried about you, angel,” Finnick explained, “it’s okay. Just stay here.”

“I can help,” y/n whispered, squeezing Finnick’s hand.

Finnick smiled lovingly down at y/n. “I know, I know you can,” he nodded. “Right now though, I need you to help by staying put, I just need to find Katniss, and then we’re getting off of this death trap,” he proposed. He kissed her forehead and placed a y/f/w in her hand before he turned around and headed to the entrance of the dome.

“You’re the girl who volunteered for the old lady that was reaped,” Katniss observed. “Right?” She asked, squinting at y/n.

Y/n bit her lip shyly and nodded. Her eyes flickered from Katniss’s gaze to Finnick’s uncertainly. When he smiled and nodded at her reassuringly, she let out a relieved sigh.

“Katniss,” Katniss introduced, holding her hand out towards y/n in symbolic gesture. “That was really brave of you,” she commented kindly.

Y/n sucked her lips in as she glanced at her ally’s extended hand. After getting nonverbal approval from Finnick, she accepted the girl’s hand and shook it. She noticed the expectant but nevertheless considerate look on Katniss’s face. “Oh,” she whispered bashfully. “Y/n,” she answered, offering a shy smile.

Finnick had taken any measures possible to keep y/n in his sights at all times. When their group ventured through the foreign terrain, he’d established y/n’s place as being between Katniss and himself. He elected to remain at the back of the group to ensure he always had eyes on her. By having her stay behind Katniss, he felt reassured that she wouldn’t be risking walking into a trap. He knew the deal they’d made with Heavensbee. But, that didn’t mean he was going to let y/n be put in danger along the way.

Finnick’s measures hadn’t accounted for y/n offering herself up to find Johanna though. As such, he was taken by surprise when she proposed the idea to Katniss as their group made a game plan. He’d tried to shut the notion down immediately, but it seemed y/n was holding her ground.

“I can find her, Fin,” y/n promised. Her fingers timidly picked at her cuticles as she waited for his response.

“We really shouldn’t split up,” Finnick argued, making his way back to her from where he’d been at helping Peeta sit back up after preforming CPR on their ally.

“One of us has to watch them,” y/n reminded him, nodding towards Katniss as she protectively knelt beside Peeta. “But, we also need to find Johanna,” she defended. Johanna was in on the alliance and the sooner their group was together in the arena, the better. They would be less of a target and more of a threat as a unit. Not to mention, y/n wanted to help the girl as she had become friends with Johanna over the years after winning her games.

Finnick hated the idea of y/n parting from his side. Not because he feared she couldn’t defend herself. But because he wanted to be there should she need backup. And because he simply despised the notion of being away from her for any length of time. Yet, Finnick wouldn’t risk making her more timid. Y/n was right about them needing to split up. And she needed to believe in herself in order to handle this. Regardless of if she stayed with the latest victors or if she went to find Johanna.

Finnick scanned y/n’s body once more as he yet again checked to ensure she was fully prepared to venture out on her own. He ensured she had proper attire for any situation she may encounter, a full array of weapons on her, her shoes and hair tied tightly, etc. Only after he’d established an agreed-upon time for her to return, or at least for her to make an audible signal that she was fine if she couldn’t return yet, did he let her leave to find their friend.

Finnick groaned as he hobbled over to the sandy shore to rest his body. He knew his troubled mind wouldn’t be able to rest, not with y/n still not back yet. But his body desperately needed it after what he and the District 12 victors had endured from the poisonous fog and fighting off the monkey mutts.

As Finnick carelessly plopped himself onto the sand, he stared out at the waves. Despite the water being extremely choppy due to the wind, it was nothing in comparison to the turmoil inside of him. Hours had passed. It had been not only hours since the time y/n had parted from his side, but also several hours since the time she was to return or at least alert him to her safety. Yet, she’d not returned to him yet. He realized it might be in part of them having to leave their original location due to the poisonous fog. But, that didn’t explain why he hadn’t heard or seen anything that signaled she was trying to communicate with him.

Y/n walked blindly as Johanna guided her to the water. Her vision was completely obscured from the surge of blood that had poured down on them. The gamemakers had decided to trap them in a rainstorm of blood. Where they’d got the blood in the first place wasn’t even something y/n had the capacity to question. The simple fact that she was soaked in blood that had been pouring on them for an hour straight was torturous enough.

Finnick tossed aside the seafood he’d caught for himself and their District 12 allies when he caught sight of y/n. She was covered in some dark yet shimmering substance, her right hand clasped in Johanna’s as they waded into the water roughly a mile down the shore. Finnick dashed across the sand towards them. His pace tripled when he was close enough to realize the substance coating y/n was blood.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Finnick screamed. “Are you okay?! Where have you been?!” He questioned after she timidly whispered his name in a relieved tone as he neared them.

“Not now Finnick,” Johanna greeted, shaking her head warningly at him as she continued to guide y/n further into the water.

“I found Johanna,” y/n murmured shyly, coughing when the blood still dripping down her head entered her parted lips.

Finnick frowned and rushed into the water. “Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, cupping y/n’s cheeks in his palms. He squinted worryingly when she flinched briefly at his touch, as if she didn’t know it was him. “Honey, tell me what happened,” he requested.

“Y/n got us out,” Johanna answered, squeezing y/n’s shoulder before heading towards the others. “But that’s when the rain started,” she explained, shaking her head in annoyance. She scooped up water and poured it over Wiress’s head. “We thought it was water… It turned out to be blood. Hot thick blood that was coming down”.

“It was choking us,” y/n spoke up, reaching out and feeling around until she was able to clutch onto Finnick’s forearms. “We were stumbling around…gagging on it…blind,” she whimpered.

Finnick heard Johanna continue to explain the events, but he’d heard what he needed to know already. He rubbed y/n’s cheek with his thumb, frowning sympathetically at the amount of blood that came off with his touch. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love,” he offered, taking her hands in his.

“You’re okay, keep your eyes closed, honey,” Finnick instructed as he guided her to her knees in the water. He whispered various soothing sentiments as he tended to her, being sure to get all of the blood off of her. She didn’t need any lingering visual reminder of what she’d just gone through.

Finnick watched y/n’s chest closely as he tried to gauge her breathing. She was balled up between him and Johanna. Her head was resting on the edge of his shoulder as her hands were hooked around her knees. Finnick caught Johnna staring at him questioningly and he shook his head.

“Do you want me to make the others leave?” Finnick asked, worried by y/n’s shallow and quick breathing. “Or we could go for a walk, get some fresh air,” he offered. He figured Katniss trying to decipher Wiress’ rambling wasn’t helping y/n clear her mind.

Y/n shook her head. She could do this. She had to do this. She couldn’t fall apart now, they still had so long to go. She tried to take a deep breath, the intensity of its choppy sound making her panic worsen.

“Hey, just breathe,” Finnick guided, spinning around on the sand until he was seated in front of y/n. “Sugar, look at me, look at me,” he whispered, tilting her head up. When her eyes met his, he smiled supportively. “In and out, okay? Copy me”.

Y/n smiled tiredly as Finnick returned to her side. “Thank you,” she hummed shyly. She felt her already stabilizing heart rate relax further as his arms wrapped securely around her.

“I’m never letting you leave my side again,” Finnick vowed. “I was so worried,” he confessed as he rested his head on y/n’s.

Katniss had informed their group that the arena was set up like a clock, and they agreed to head to the Cornucopia to gather weapons, as well as to scan the area and verify her theory. The whole way there, Finnick was being overly protective of y/n. He knew she was already bouncing back from the blood rain, but still wished she could have more time to recover from the mental impacts of it before they had to head to such a risky location in the arena. As such, it wasn’t until Johanna had scanned the back of the cornucopia for threats that he let go of her hand so she could move freely.

Their group huddled over a diagram of the arena Peeta had drawn in the sand as they reviewed the different threats in each sector. Y/n felt eyes on her when Katniss asked if she’d seen anything during her time away from their group. She smiled faintly in appreciation to Johanna when she answered for y/n that all they’d seen was blood.

“It doesn't matter,” Peeta reassured y/n, sensing her remorse over not having known more information about the arena. “If we know which sector is active, we’ll be safe,” he concluded, standing up from his kneeling position in the sand.

“Yeah, relatively speaking,” Finnick remarked, unable to be as optimistic as Peeta given the hourly threats weren’t their only trouble.

Y/n’s eyes snapped away from Finnick at the sound of Wiress’ gasp. She pulled a knife out of her pocket and threw it at Gloss as he stood behind Wiress. She frowned as she noticed that despite her knife and Katniss’s arrow having struck Gloss flawlessly, the man had already taken Wiress’ life.

Finnick moved forward to keep y/n from running to Wiress as the woman collapsed to the ground.

Y/n tactically shoved Finnick aside, spinning to strike Cashmere with her newly obtained trident as the District 1 victor charged towards him. She knocked the tribute to the ground and they promptly wrestled against each other.

Finnick went to help y/n after having realized why she’d pushed him aside. Only, he found himself having to fight off Brutus instead. He growled as he attempted to finish the battle quickly.

Finnick had barely rose back up from his knees after a blade seemingly tossed by y/n scraped Brutus’s shoulder and scared him away when Peeta was running after the monster of a victor. He stopped Peeta’s offensive move, knowing he’d easily be outmatched by the District 2 tribute. He shoved Peeta’s resisting frame back as his eyes searched the cornucopia for y/n. Just as his eyes found y/n’s tousled hair, he was knocked down as the ground underneath him began to spin.

Y/n gasped as she was suddenly thrown off of Cashmere as the cornucopia rotated. Her fingers frantically searched the damp rocks for a place to hold onto. Just when she thought she’d found one, a slab of metal flung off the dome and knocked her hands off of the thin grasp she had on the structure of the cornucopia. She let out an uncharacteristic scream as her body tumbled down the wet foundation towards the water. It wasn’t the water that worried her, it was how fast the surface was spinning above the water that was the problem. If she were to hit the side of it on her way down, she’d suffer the same fate she just watched Cashmere endure.

“Y/n!” Finnick shouted upon hearing her scream. He held tightly onto the surface as he mentally pleaded for y/n to be okay. He instinctively caught Peeta when his body slid down the rocks beside him, keeping him afloat without having to shift his mind off of thoughts about y/n’s wellbeing. His blood ran cold as he heard his love let out another scream.

“Y/n! No!” Johanna screamed, futilely reaching towards the surging water below her. She and Katniss were both still struggling to stay on shore, but y/n had been flung off despite three victors’ best efforts.

Finnick found himself unable to breathe when the cornucopia stopped spinning. But it wasn’t from the surge of adrenaline, nor from the speed of the spinning motion. Instead, his fear and concern for y/n had rendered him breathless. He scrambled to his feet the second the surface stopped moving. The trident in his hand shook nervously as he frantically searched the island for her.

“Finnick!” Johanna shouted, waving him over.

“She fell in,” Katniss explained breathily, giving Finnick a remorseful look.

“F-Fi-,” y/n forced out, choking on the freezing water as she breached the shore. She hadn’t seen what happened to him after she’d thrown the blade at Brutus awhile ago. Long before the very ground they were on literally turned against them. She needed to know he was okay.

Finnick once again picked up on y/n’s quiet exclamation. His eyes snapped in the direction of her voice and he sighed in slight relief upon seeing her alive and breathing. He tossed his trident aside as he ran down the stone trail that lead to where she was. He helped her pull herself ashore, holding her to him immediately. “I thought I lost you,” he whimpered, tightening his grip on her frail and trembling body.

Finnick pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching y/n’s face. “Say something,” he begged. Her timidity was too concerning right now. “Are you hurt?!”

Y/n grabbed Finnick’s bicep as she staggered backwards to show him her leg. During her fight with Cashmere, she’d been stabbed in the thigh. Having been dragged down the rough surface of the cornucopia surely hadn’t done much to help the wound. She swallowed as she took note of just how much worse the injury now was.

“N…no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Finnick rambled, his eyes watering. He dropped to his knees, his hands pressing firmly against y/n’s wound. “Y/n?” He questioned when he didn’t hear her whimper even slightly at the pressure. His eyes gazed up at her as he sucked in short choppy breaths. “Hey, I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay,” he promised, seeing the defeated look in y/n’s eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Finnick instructed, adjusting his hand placement when Johanna ran up to him with a small first aid kit from the cornucopia. “O-okay? Honey,” he whispered, trying to prevent his voice from showing the fear that was surging inside him, “just focus on me… We’re going to be okay!”

As Katniss discussed the plan with Peeta, y/n walked over to Finnick. She tried to hide her limp, not wanting to worry him further. “Do you need anything Finn?” She asked softly as she set her hand on his shoulder.

Finnick quickly turned his head upwards, not knowing she was going with Katniss on the supply run. “No, love, where are you going?” He asked rhetorically. He knew where y/n was planning on going based off her question and the plan they’d all formed. But, he was hoping by asking she’d reconsider.

“She needs help,” y/n whispered shyly.

Finnick smiled lovingly at y/n but shook his head. “I’ll go with,” he proposed, knowing y/n wasn’t going to relent on her helping Katniss.

“Finny,” y/n sighed. “You don’t have t-“.

“I know,” Finnick said. He picked his trident up off the ground and took her hand in his other. “Ready?” He asked.

Y/n’s eyes shot open as she heard Finnick screaming her name. She whipped her head back and forth in search of her boyfriend. She silently ran after him as he bolted into the gathering of trees. She froze when she heard her own voice screaming for Finnick’s help. Jabberjays. “It’s not real!” She yelled, resuming her running. Only, the Jabberjays playback of her voice was far louder and Finnick had run too far for her to reach him.

“He can’t see you, stop!” Johanna explained, motioning towards the clear barrier between the hourly sectors as she held y/n back.

Katniss was on her knees, pressed up against the invisible divider between her and the others as the Jabberjays mimicked her sister Prim’s voice. The District 12 victor had been fortunate enough to see the others through on the opposite side of the divide before she was overtaken by the screaming. So at least she knew it wasn’t real.

Finnick wasn’t that lucky. He’d left Johanna watching over y/n as she and Peeta slept. Meanwhile he was only a few hundred feet away, teaching Katniss how to form some knots for the next step in their plan. That’s when the Jabberjays attacked. He hadn’t even thought to look back to where he’d last seen y/n when he heard her voice crying for him to help her. Instead, he instinctively rushed towards the sound. As such, he’d ventured further into the Jabberjay sector than Katniss and didn’t have the chance to see the others were safe, to see y/n was actually safe. Sure Katniss tried to remind him that they were just Jabberjays. But, he knew Jabberjays copied things they’d heard. Meaning y/n could very well be hurt somewhere in the arena somehow right now, begging for him to come to her rescue.

Tears streamed down Finnick’s face as he knelt on the damp grass. His hands were shaking as they covered his ears, his heart racing out of control. This had to be fake. The screams coming from the Jabberjays were excruciating. If y/n were truly screaming at that volume instead of the Jabberjays increasing it for the purpose of his torture, she had to be in a near-death state. He’d never heard her this loud before. It had to be fake. He couldn’t live without her. It had to be fake. It had to be.

“I know, I know,” y/n cooed as she embraced Finnick. She had wrapped herself around his crumpled frame the second the invisible barrier between them had absolved. “I’m here, handsome, I’m here,” she promised, gasping as he clung onto her.

“You’re sure you’re okay?!” Finnick repeated frantically, leaning back to see y/n. His eyes analyzed her several-hour-old wound on her thigh despite her nodding her head. He pulled her back into his embrace, pressing kisses all over her face.

Y/n gasped as Finnick jumped in front of her, intentionally trapping her between him and the tree behind her so she couldn’t take the arrow that Katniss had pointed at them instead of him.

“Katniss, remember who the real enemy is,” Finnick spoke calmly. He slid his foot backwards to signal for y/n to stop trying to wordlessly squirm her way out from behind him. He wasn’t going to let her try and block the arrow him hitting him. If one of them had to go down like this, it was going to be him.

Finnick didn’t need to see y/n’s expression to know she was too timid to say anything, her fear silencing her. Nor did he need words to know she was angry that he was making this decision for the both of them. But he had to.

Finnick let out a sigh when he watched Katniss move her bow away from him and point it towards the artificial sky above them. He felt y/n move to his side, his hand finding her hip and tugging her closer while his gaze cautiously stayed on Katniss.

As the girl from District 12 released her bow, Finnick moved y/n back. He guided them both to the ground before the impact could knock them down. Finnick saw y/n’s worried stare and he stroked her cheek before he covered her with his body. “Stay down honey, we’re getting out of this together,” he murmured lovingly.

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[dorabellingham]

I'm all yours.

warnings: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when your husband becomes jealous of you during a real madrid party.

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The event was in full swing, with twinkling lights and soft background music creating a sophisticated atmosphere. Jude Bellingham, in a perfectly tailored suit, looked like the center of attention as always. But, that night, what really caught attention was not his imposing presence, but that of his wife, who looked absolutely stunning in a long black dress. You shined more than anyone else in the room, and that was starting to irritate Jude more than he thought possible, but not because you were attracting attention, never, he loved seeing his wife shine, but he hated strangers devouring you with their eyes.

As soon as you arrived, you were bombarded with compliments from all sides, men and women who could barely contain their admiration. Jude, always very protective and with a quiet sense of ownership, was beginning to lose his patience. With each new compliment you received, his smile became a little more requested, his jaw clenched as his hand remained firmly on your waist.

You couldn't walk two meters without someone stopping you to tell you how beautiful you looked. A group of teammates, who always maintained a friendly attitude, now seemed to go overboard with their jokes. One of them even commented:

—Man, you're so lucky. Your wife is amazing. You really outdid yourself.

The comment wasn't exactly mean, but the joking tone got to him. Bellingham squeezed your waist lightly and gave his friend a cold look.

—Yes, I know that.

He responded dryly, without humor, and continued walking with you, who laughed softly at his reaction.

When you finally arrived at a slightly calmer area, another group, this time of businessmen who worked with the club, approached. One of them, particularly insistent, looked directly at you, ignoring your husband completely.

—You are absolutely stunning, Y/n. I bet it attracts attention wherever it goes.

The man said, smiling exaggeratedly, while you tried to be polite and just thanked him. Jude, arms crossed at your side, let out an audible sigh, his gaze turning into a mixture of boredom and irritation. He took a step forward, positioning himself so that the man would have to acknowledge his presence.

—She attracts attention, yes. But guess what? She's here with me too, so you better tune in!

He said, his tone dry and full of jealousy. The man got nervous and walked away with some excuse, but that didn't ease the tension that was growing inside Jude. You, always perceptive, saw his mood and were excited about the situation.

—Babe, relax. It's just an event, no one is trying anything. You know I'm yours.

But your calmness seemed to make Jude even more irritated by the constant attention. When you were chatting with some more formal guests, another man, clearly enchanted by your beauty, arrived and made a bold compliment about how you looked like a "movie star". Jude interrupted a conversation on the spot.

—What did you say?

He asked, interrupting a conversation, his gaze sharp as a blade. The businesswoman was a little disconcerted, but tried to hide it.

—I was just saying that your wife has a... a special sparkle.

Jude let out a short, ironic laugh.

—Yes, I know that. She is special. So, you'd better keep the compliments a little more... discreet.

The tension in the air was evident, and the woman, slightly uncomfortable, hurriedly said goodbye. You, who was watching everything, crossed your arms and looked at your husband with an expression of someone who was having fun.

—You are impossible today. There will be no one left at the event, Bellingham.

You commented jokingly.

He shrugged, still frowning.

—They need to understand that there is no chance.

You laughed, holding his hand and stroking his fingers with yours.

—Nobody here has it, Babe. You know that. But it hasn't been improved yet.

You walked around the room together again, and whenever a longer look fell on you, he visibly tensed. People noticed the atmosphere and, little by little, they became more restrained when approaching her. Still, Jude kept his guard up throughout the event.

When he finally reached his car, after a long night of compliments and prying eyes, Bellingham let out a heavy sigh as he climbed into the passenger seat.

—I don't like it when people look at you like that. Like, you were ogling you and I wasn't there.

You, who was already more used to his protective posture, radiated and leaned towards him.

—You were there, yes. And me too. With you, always with you. And no one here can change that.

Jude looked at you, finally relaxing.

—I know... But it's hard not to be jealous when you're so... perfect.

You smile, kissing him softly on the lips.

—And I'm all yours. I didn't forget that.

[channelslam]

carlos cheesing about how jaime asked for the exact same haircut as him when he went to victorbarber5 😭😭😭

[moviestarmartini]

carseat backseat. — jude bellingham x reader x brahim díaz.

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader x brahim díaz.

summary: your girls' night out soon turned into a party of one. good news though, the two men over at the private booth were looking for the perfect opportunity to approach you. and they're looking to get out of that club fast.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw (+18 mdni), mentions and consumption of alcohol, basic sentences in spanish (as per usual on this blog tbh), PERREO !!!! , car sex (i'm romanticizing it tbh), soft doms!jude & brahim, marking, praise, light degrading, oral sex (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (twice rip), needy mfs, use of petnames, light manhandling, strangers hooking up tbh. if i missed anything lmk.

A/N: this was wild to write which is why i think it took me so long to finish !!! i mentioned it previously but i lowk picture them in a tuned chevy tahoe and not a limo but that might be irrelevant. reblogs & feedback are always appreciated babes xx enjoy

now playing . . . chulo pt.2 by bad gyal, tokischa & young miko / partition by beyoncé

Betrayed. 

You were currently feeling betrayed. Your girlfriends all abandoned you, with cheap excuses or promising hookups that surged throughout the night. You could’ve been on your way to get down and busy too, but you had standards. You sat at the bar, thinking what you should order before a margarita came your way. You curled up a brow at the bartender, who just replied: “The young men by that booth noticed you like tequila.” 

You frowned at the plural, taking a short sip of the peculiar-shaped glass before looking around. At a private booth full of couples making out and grinding on each other, you could easily recognize two pairs of eyes looking right back at you. With a confident smile, you raise your glass towards them before taking another sip, thinking that would be the end of it. 

You hummed in approval at both the taste of the tequila-based drink and the music the DJ was playing, before feeling a presence standing next to you. It was the shortest of the men who had bought you a drink, with light stubble that covered up his jaw and upper lip area. “¿Qué tal, bonita? ¿Te gustó el trago?” He was dangerously close, but you didn’t find the closeness uncomfortable. 

“How did you know I liked tequila?” You laughed, throwing your hair back. Brahim joined in, and he couldn’t ignore the way your face lightened up. His lips parted in amusement, watching your every move. The way you crossed your thighs, and how badly he wanted to pry them open. 

“How wouldn’t someone like you have my attention all night?” Brahim’s voice came as something similar to a coo, reaching forward to tuck a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt your whole face heating up. “I’m Brahim, a pleasure.” You introduced yourself in the same fashion, not long after perking up at the song that started playing, its opening letters sparking interest. “Lovely to meet you, ¿Vamos?” He pointed to the packed dance floor with his head, offering you his hand. 

Taking down the rest or the drink you hopped off the bar stool, taking his hand gladly and into the dance floor. From your experience with Europeans, they were not the most dexterous dancers, standing still and looking up at the ceiling with their hands on your hips. The man only saved himself by the fact you loved the song and he bought you a drink, the least you owed him was a dance. 

But oh you were so wrong. 

Brahim gripped his hands on the soft skin of your hips, every once in a while controlling the circular motions you produced, while also grinding back against your ass. It only motivated you further, hearing him curse under his breath. “Joder… qué perreo el tuyo, princesa.” You chuckled a little at his reaction, biting on your bottom lip. The tension only grew when he spun you around, dancing face to face, your nose brushing against his. 

Before you could take the dip and cut the distance— his cologne had been clouding your senses, mind fuzzy with the growing sexual tension— he twirled you around yet again, your eyes landing directly on a chest. You tilted your head up to meet the eyes of the man she identified sitting next to Brahim earlier. 

“Fancy sharing her, bro?” He addressed Brahim, but his eyes didn’t tear away from yours. “All ours, Jude.” You heard the other reply as he inched closer. The words echoed in your mind, goosebumps forming up your arms. The man you now knew as Jude took both your hands, pulling them upwards and to rest around his neck as he joined the two of you dancing. 

The tension between the three of you was something you’ve never felt before, Brahim’s nose brushing against your neck and the way Jude stared you down made your knees weak. But the song came to an end, the DJ transitioning to a whole different genre. But that didn’t stop Jude from closing the distance and kissing you, your eyes falling shut instantly. A gasp left your lips the minute you felt another pair on your neck, leaving slow pecks.  

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Jude proposed, his lips still grazing yours. You nodded, and Brahim scooped your hand in his as he practically dragged you away from the dancing bodies, and Jude followed suit with your hands linked together. 

The flashing lights drowned the ambiance, and as you thought of the situation and what could be ahead, you smiled to yourself. If patience was the road to wisdom, you sure felt ninety years older. Maybe your friends jumping off the boat was a blessing in disguise— you deduced as you exited the club through the back. You squinted a little, your eyes already used to the strobe lighting of the club. 

Click. 

Jude stepped in front of you, covering his mouth to speak as a black large car rolled up. “Cover your face for me, baby.” He advised as Brahim opened the door for you, hopping in behind you, Jude looking at the source of the camera with a straight face before sliding inside the car. He gave instructions to the driver, giving him a large bill to… mind his own business apparently, as a partition was rolled up.

“You owe me a kiss,” Brahim complained after not even two seconds of silence, brushing his nose against your cheek. You couldn’t help but giggle as he roughly drew you into his lap, taking your lips hostage in his. While Jude’s affections earlier were soft and careful, Brahim seemed eager; but it still wasn’t his hand grazing the skin of your inner thigh, making your legs part open. Your mini skirt rode up, and you noticed how Brahim pulled it even further to rest at your lower waist. A hum of approval rang through the moving vehicle, and as Jude’s hand inched closer to your core, you shivered.

Brahim groaned at the sudden movement, parting ways with your lips to settle down your neck, Jude taking the same initiative. You moaned softly, jerking your hips. Him, in response, bit into your neck, his fingers delving into the soft skin of your hips. Getting that much attention was overwhelming, and you fell drunk on it. They really worshiped you, lips slowly making their way down, the moans rewarding the men for their good work. 

Jude parted first, his finger grazing the soft fabric of your underwear. “We’ve got you so wet,” He cooed, taking your cheeks and turning your head to look at him. He dissected your reaction as his hand just shoved the panties to a side and he took a dip to test your wetness. A light smirk tugged on his face as he watched your lips part in a tiny gasp. 

“Turn her a bit towards me, mate.” Jude instructed Brahim, who was busy painting hematomas on your neck. He nodded with the same devilish shine on his eyes, shifting a little so you would both face him. “What do you want, babe? You look a bit bothered,” He freighted innocence, a chuckle rung from behind you. 

You became even more embarrassed; how easy your body queues were to them. “Touch me,” You replied with a certain fortitude in your voice, when your eyes were dripping with need. Brahim watched you, lips slightly parted, and just smiled. He gave Jude a nod, who didn’t waste any time in sinking a finger into your wetness. You couldn’t help but throw your head back with a groan, finding rest in Brahim’s shoulder. 

Jude didn’t find any pleasure in easing it into you, fixing a steady pace that would have you writhing in no time. You noticed Brahim getting harder under your ass, the movements clearly getting him off. He still didn’t budge, instead hooking a finger on the strap of your blouse and tugging it off the way slowly before kissing the area. 

Your moans were breathy, as if you were a fish out of water, your hand reaching back to brush Brahim’s hair out of the way, his light beard tickling the back of your shoulder. You could also feel his hand sliding down your torso, his ring and middle finger soon finding a home at your throbbing clit. You noticed through almost closed eyes that Jude licked his lips and slid another digit in, picking up the pace. 

“You like that, princesa? Wanna cum?” Brahim brushed your hair back. You did your best to affirm between babbles, but the built up was rapid and dangerous. “You can do it, you’re so good for us.” Jude confirmed with praise, and you couldn’t have stopped the orgasm even if you wanted to. Your moans filled up the space, legs trembling as they both slowed down and worked you through it. 

Jude took his fingers out and started licking them, never breaking eye contact. Instead, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. His hand cupped your jaw with ease, as you sloppily made out. You could taste yourself in his tongue, “What a pretty mess we have here.” He stroked your cheekbone as the car came to a halt. The driver simply left the vehicle and both men checked through the tinted foggy windows their surroundings. They were at the hotel they requested, at the underground parking level that looked as though no one had been there in years. 

Perfect. 

You came to the same conclusion they did, now pulling Jude back into a kiss, your hands unbuttoning his shirt. But at the same time you reached back and pulled Brahim closer to do the same, with a bit of his help. Jude watched as you cupped his boner through the dress pants, letting a small surprised groan. He’d been so busy pleasuring you he didn’t realize how needy he was himself. 

“I want to taste you.” Brahim whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. Trying to think of an arrangement, an idea quickly rose to your head before it was occupied with the toned bodies of the shirtless men on either side of you. “You will, I promise,” You gave him a peck before giving your attention back to Jude, kissing down his torso as you got on your knees still on the car seat. 

You heard Brahim sigh as you unbuttoned the other’s pants, Jude himself helping you lower his underwear to give his hard cock some space to breathe. You didn’t waste any time, licking the pre-cum that rolled down the tip before wrapping your hand around the girth and stroking it shortly. It didn’t take long for you to slowly slide it inside your mouth, Jude’s hand reaching to rest on the crown of your head with a groan leaving his lips. 

Brahim didn’t seem to want to interrupt your work, but as you got into it, you felt the familiar hook of his fingers; this time around the waistband of your panties. He slid them down before a thumb stroked down your wet slit. But the slow-paced affections didn’t last long as he pressed his flat tongue to pick up all the slick and go straight to town on you. You started to struggle keeping your mouth and hand at a good pace, moans muffled with the thick cock stuffed in your mouth. 

“Don’t stop,” Jude warned between groans, the grip in your hair tightening. The oral fixation seemed to be pushing him over the edge, in the same situation you found yourself in. 

That was, until Brahim stopped. 

You couldn’t even find the time to complain, to ask him for more; some shuffling filling the suffocating air before a leaking tip grazed your sloppy slit, all soaked with your arousal. You arched your back, pushing back against the friction. Both men snickered between themselves, Brahim still teasing you with the tip of his hard dick. 

“You really want it, don’t you?” He cooed, his teasing actions still going further by pushing himself onto your entrance, but never making it fully inside. Instead of responding, you concentrated on giving your best affections, catching him off guard. 

“Bro— fuck, do it.” Jude gave him the approval, clearly taking your enthusiasm into his pleasure as encouragement for the other man to satisfy you. Brahim sighed, lining himself properly with your entrance before burying his length inside you. 

The groans that came out of your throat were gutural, full of lust. “You feel so good…” He exclaimed, throwing his head back, still getting used to the feel. He wasn’t the lengthiest, but the sheer girth made up for it. His hands gripped hard on the dough of your hips, tightening as he bounced your body against his in the same fashion you were doing earlier at the club. 

You couldn’t help but arch your back even lower, doing your best to continue with your hard labor as Brahim set a relentless pace. You’d come to notice he was the most anxious one, yearning to take you as yours. But it seemed to be rubbing off on the other man, his long fingers gripping your hair with certain force. He thrusted hard enough to rock the car at the movement of his hips, enough to have Jude controlling your mouth, choking on his length. 

The scene was straight out of the craziest adult film, but you knew that if you weren’t the one experiencing it, it wouldn’t be as hot. “Cum, baby. Come on.” Brahim encouraged, smacking your ass loudly; you were so fixated on pleasing the other man you didn’t even realize how close you were to your second release of the night. It knocked the air out of your lungs, saliva stuck with a guttural groan as the sensitive tip hit the back of your throat. 

“Squeeze my cock like that— mierda, así, yes!” You could make out from riding down the tidal wave your orgasm brought, still stroking Jude’s cock while you took a breather to let out all the scandalous moans, letting the small tears run and ruin your mascara a little. 

By the stutter on Brahim’s hips you noticed he was going to finish right then and there, only bouncing your hips back in the same fashion you were doing in no less than half an hour ago at the dance floor.

It took him a moment to recover, heavy breathing overshadowing the sloppy blowjob. He pulled out, looking back to watch the cum dripping out your whole. “Jude,” Brahim looked at him with a heavy breath. “Look at this. Look how perfect our pussy looks pumped of my cum,” 

You whined at the sheer force the Spanish national manhandled you to show you off like a prize, and with this new angle you noticed a hint of pride in his voice. Jude’s seeming examination took a moment, even though you could hear the slick noise your leftover saliva made as he stroked his cock. 

“I think it’s missing something…” Jude pondered, rising to his knees before pushing himself inside you. With a loud moan of surprise your knees couldn’t hold anymore, collapsing onto your stomach. Your head rested on Brahim’s thick thigh, and he soothed you through the first few instances with praise. Now it was his turn to be the doting one, brushing your hair back and talking you through it. “You’re taking it so well.” 

“Suck him off, babe. He’s getting hard for witnessing how much of a good pretty slut you are for us,” Jude ordered, pulling your hips back up to pound into you shamelessly. The command wasn’t a problem, mind so cockdrunk you could do whatever they asked of you. 

Jude still helped you up so you could get to the task at hand, but Brahim dipped lower to link his lips with yours tenderly, contrasting the constant sound of skin coming into contact. As you made out, you took the chance to stroke his cock, still soaked with your fluids. He seemed to be melting onto the seat, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Breaking away and trying to manage your moans as best as you could, your tongue licked up the prominent vein up the underside, before wrapping your lips around the soft tip. 

You fluttered your lashes up at him, finding him cute with his parted lips. But it was Jude who picked your hair back and motivated you straight into the action, sounds of pleasure now coming from both men. Brahim writhed under you, while Jude had you squirming. 

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Jude whined, trying to finish on the same pace but being unable to do so. Your walls squeezed him dry deliciously, and he leaned to press his chest against your back to reach around and draw circular motions on your overstimulated clit. “Just one more, okay baby? You can do it,” He encouraged, at the same time you tore yourself away from blowing Brahim to breathe and moan out freely. 

“Perfect girl,” Brahim cooed as Jude slowed down, helping you ride down the wave your release represented. Jude pulled out, now standing back to admire his load leaking straight out of you. But now it was his turn to help you onto his lap, holding you close. 

“You did so well,” Jude hummed, caressing your cheeks, cleaning the dried mascara. Brahim scooted over, brushing your hair back with his hands and pressing the tiniest, most playful kisses over your bare shoulders. With a gentle hand, Jude turned your head in his direction and locked his lips with your own, slightly swollen and adapting a redder tone. It was tender, calm. Brahim followed, matching the same energy. 

It was strange how both men had that duality to them; going from being completely hands on and greedy with your body, to soothing you with the sweetest touches. “We didn’t even make it to the hotel room…” You joked, the two of them joining in the lazy laugh. 

“It’s barely one in the morning.” Brahim brushed his nose against your cheek, in the same way he demanded a kiss earlier. You noticed him and Jude shared a look before looking back at you. 

“Round two?” They proposed in unison. Still, their voices and expressions didn’t give any hint of obligation, just curiosity. You knew you could reject them and they would understand completely. 

And that only captivated you further. 

“Round two.” You confirmed with a nod and a wink, getting yourself together to at least spend a minute or so at the hotel lobby. As you all entered and confirmed the booking, it seemed that their infatuation with you only grew; Brahim couldn’t tear himself away from your side while Jude couldn’t stop looking back at you with a certain glimmer in his eyes. 

You knew this was bound to be a long night. The biggest comfort though? That you knew you were going to wake up the next morning held securely by two pairs of strong arms.

[fandomtherapy44]

Five Hargreeves X reader Coffee and Sarcasm One shot!

Summary: Y/n works at Griddy's Coffee House to make money for school. It's not the best but it's not the worst. But everything gets more interesting when a certain customercomes in her life changes in best way.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

WC: 1.8k

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AN/ Hey Ya'll so... I hated the ending of TUA if you liked I'm happy you did but to me, it was the worst way to end such an amazing beloved show. I know it works logically with how the show is set up but it's just so dessperseing to think they never existed. And there was a lot more that was wrong with this season. But one of the biggest to me is LILA AND FIVE like WTF. I hate the excuse of oh Five needs a love interest, like no he does not his love story was always getting back to his family and saving them, and for Lila oh how they destroyed two great characters in the last two episodes how she was just was willingly cheat on Digeo and not to mention their kids!? So this is my take on Five and Having a Love Interest. I hope you enjoy it.

My life wasn’t perfect but good, I didn’t have adventures every day, and I could barely afford to go out of state to see my family every year. Like I said not perfect but good. I worked in a little coffee/doughnut shop named Griddy’s my boss was so sweet that she let me do my schooling on the side and would let me take the extra tips from the pool knowing that I didn’t have all the money when going to school.

“Ugh I can’t do it that guy is a total asshole, Y/n can you take him.” My coworker Becky asked me with pleading eyes. I looked up from my textbook. “He’s really that bad?” She huffs and puffs. “Well no he’s just so arrogant and sarcastic.” I looked back down at my book knowing I had to finish this section. “I would but I have to finish this-”

“You can take my tips from tonight.” That shuts me right up. “Did he already order any doughnuts?” I tied my apron back over my pink polyester uniform quickly. Becky was just able to give that up because she only had this job because she was rich and her parents forced her to get this job to teach her responsibilities even though they still paid for everything she was lucky. She gets a smirk on her face and a hand on her hip. “That’s what I thought, and no.” Correction she was a lucky bitch.

I walked out to this apparently horrible guy and surprisingly he was around my age and wearing a suit, interesting. “Hi I’m Y/n welcome to Griddy’s coffee what can I get you.” he puts down the newspaper and he was one of the cutest assholes I have ever seen. “Coffee black, and try not to burn which I know can be really hard but I need my fix so try okay?” And there is the arrogant and sarcastic part.

The guy had become almost a regular and came in every night at two am on the dot and in the same suit. He looked about twenty-one but around fifty years old in his eyes. This time he came to the bar. “Ahh so we are venturing out to the bar instead of our corner booth today are we?” I asked him teasing him as he sat down. He gave me his usual roll of his eyes and groan. “Y/n just the usual okay?” I wrote it down even though I had it memorized. A black coffee and one glazed doughnut. “Aye aye, captain.”

I got started on his coffee while he was going through some type of file. I put it in front of him and see what he’s going through. “You are in the CIA, no offense but wouldn’t you be like a kindergartener at our age to them?” He looks up at me a little caught off guard. “I tested very high in ninth grade.” That sounds very real. “Okay, then I should be in the same place I was the highest tester in every grade in eighth grade.” He gets a puzzled look. “Really?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean,” I questioned in defense with my hands on my hips. He realizes what he insinuated by accident. “Not that you are dumb I know you are very smart.” I now think he was just trying to save his ass from hot coffee being poured on him. “How?” He glances down at my textbooks. “You’re studying to be a lawyer a public self-defense one at that so that’s how I know. And even if you weren’t you are working every day for the future which I would know is important. I’m… sorry if I made you think otherwise.” I accepted his apology but he wasn’t off the hook yet. “Tell me your name then.” He was baffled. “What?”

“Yeah if I’m going to be serving you coffee for the perceivable future and you are truly sorry I would like your name.” “I can’t do that I’m a CIA agent.” I picked up his cup and canceled the doughnut. “Ok well have a nice life, sir.” I step away and head back to the back doors. I can hear him sigh and mumble something under his breath. “I can’t believe I’m doing this it’s five.” I turn back with a smug smile. I put the coffee back and lean down to him.

“What was that I couldn’t hear you?” He rolls his eyes and answers me. “It’s five.” “Five as in the number?” Five I guess, huffs. “No Five as in the letter, yes the number.” I go back to my standing pose. “Hey Five you just apologized for being an Ahole so watch it, and I like it ‘Five’. ” I said as I put my hands up like it was a headline. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He jokily waved me off. “So what else can I get you Five.” Oh, I was so going to use his name as much as possible.

Five and I had been having fun being sarcastic Aholes to each other but we knew not to push the limits. This night I was very stressed because I had a major test the next day and just couldn’t obtain the information. Five walks in on the dot with his usual snarky attitude. “Hey, waitress I can’t wait forever.” Of course, he was kidding, and had only been thirty seconds since he walked in. “Not in the mood Five,” I said without looking away from my textbook.

“Oh come on you know I can’t function without the best coffee in the world.” I gave him a side eye wanting to blow him off but when I looked in his deep brown eyes I couldn’t say no. “Fine, just so you dont act like a cranky old man again.” I go over to pour it when he looks at my textbook. “You have a test tomorrow?” I sigh and walk over shuffling a little.

“Yes, I do, that I’m totally going bomb that it’s not even funny.” He’s confused. “Why, you are one of the best students in that class.” He stated so straightforwardly with no question. It felt… good when he did it was different than when my friends or parents said the same thing. “For some reason, I can’t get any of the practice questions right.” I pointed at the sheet of questions. “I’ll help you study.” 

I was a little shocked I mean we were friendly but I didn’t know we were friends. “Five I can’t ask you to do that I’m sure you have an important CIA thing to do tomorrow or whatever.” He chuckles at my little jab. “You didn’t ask I’m offering, so better fill up that pot and sit down because you are going to pass this test.” I sit down across from him. “Thank you Five.” 

“Yeah yeah don’t say I never did anything for you.” 

I had the coffee fresh pot made and an extra glazed doughnut laid out when Five walked in. “What’s this- Whoa!” I threw my hands around him hugging him. “Thank you thank you thank you!” He seems unsure but then hugs me back. “I’m assuming that it went well.” I lean back with my arms still around him.

“Top of the class thanks to you!” For the first time, he gives me a genuine smile. “Good.” I then notice the tension between us I awkwardly let go and try to change the tension. “Um, I have everything ready for you. I got to go to do something I’ll be back.” I quickly scurry back to the doors I think about that moment and how it shifted how I saw him. Fuck I think I like Five.

It had been a couple of months after that moment and that I think I like Five has now changed into I know I like Five. So how the hell was I managing this crush good question, I wasn’t. Every time I looked at him my stomach did flips and would not stop. 

One day I was whipping down a table when a guy walked in and sat down at the bar. “Hi there what can getcha you.” He looks around like he was seeing something nostalgic. “Wow, it looks just like the other one.” He muttered. “What was that?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing I’ll talk a vanilla latte and chocolate eclair.” He then looks at the nametag. “Wait are you Y/n?” I look down I mean I think I am. “Right silly question my brother talks about you all the time. You know five.” Five? These two are brothers? “Five is your brother? And he talks about me?” 

“Right that does sound a little silly with how young he looks- I mean is, we are all adopted and my name is Viktor.” He holds out his hand and we shake. “Well, that makes more sense now.” I laugh. “Yeah he talks about how you want to public defense lawyer and how happy you make him so I wanted to thank you it’s been a while since he’s had a good friend.” Right friend what else would we be. “Of course but he can be a…” He finishes my sentence. “An asshole.” “Yes.” We both laughed.

Before I realized it had been six months since I first met Five and it was also Christmas the dinner was being decorated with a disgusting amount of Santas and jingle bells but I liked it reminded me of home. Five walks in an hour late. “Five you are late is your old mind finally catching up to you,” I smirked. “Ha ha, no I had to do something.” I was turned and there was a present on the counter. “Aww Five are you going soft on me.” “Just open it before the sun rises.”

I pull back the paper and there is a jewelry box. I opened it and there was a handmade bracelet. “Uh, I can take it back If-” He reaches for it. “No no, I love it thank you.” I go around the counter to hug him. This time tighter than last to show him I truly loved it. We let go slowly and he puts his hand on my cheek and we lean in. The kiss was slow but still passionate his lips a little chapped but still soft somehow. We let go and put our heads against each other giggling. I looked up and there was mistletoe. “Well, Five we just turned into a Hallmark cliche.” 

“I’m fine with that I’m just sad I didn’t do it sooner.” “Oh really, how long.”

“After I helped you study and you hugged me, Y/n I like you It’s just I’ve really never had a healthy relationship before to be honest I’m a little scared.” 

“Well it’s the same for me Five but we will figure this out together.” “Can I kiss you again?” I grip him by the tie and pull him down into another kiss. And I can’t help but think all this happened because of coffee and sarcasm.

To me, that's how you do a romance. Hope you guys enjoyed it.