Latest Posts by joaosnovia - Page 5

All I wanted | Joao Felix x Reader

pairing . . . joao felix x ex!reader

summary . . . Joao was tired; tired of the memories, tired of the dreams, tired of the flashbacks. Everything led back to you and the moment where he lost you. It drove him insane, but all he could was reminisce the time you had together in solus.

request . . . no!!

word count . . . 758

warnings . . . angst!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . a little short but yeah!! wrote this in school in a little hurry so ignore any typos or mistakes!!

. . . It was after training and Joao had just come home, his bones aching and breath ragged. He shivered slightly, the cold air of the house hitting his skin. The usual warmth was gone, now replaced with a cold, empty presence. No one was there to fill the absence.

He could hear his breathing echo throughout the walls, the quietness of the house louder than he thought, more than he thought it would be. For a second, he waited to hear your voice, stopping whatever you were doing and coming out to hug him.

But it wasn't there. The lack of your presence was obvious; no sounds, no footsteps, and certainly no rush to greet him.

He sighed slowly, taking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. He subtly noted the mug out of place, which would normally be in the cupboard by now. As he walked to the fridge, he prepared himself to step on one of your hair clips, except they weren't there.

Joao felt like a stranger in his own home, as if he was intruding. Something was missing.

You were missing.

The living room felt too dark, too cold without you, and as he sat on the couch, he groaned at the uncomfort he felt. What once felt like a cozy, safe haven was now a lumpy, stuffy thing under him.

He hesitated, debating whether he should actually sit down or if he should sit on the chair to his right, as if he’s unsure whether it's still his space.

As he sank into the couch, he felt a weight he didn't expect, like it’s not quite the same anymore. It smelled faintly like you, the scent throwing him into a haze of memories and flashbacks

Ache filled his chest, heart longing for you. But you weren't there anymore, and it was all his fault.

Memories of you two flashed through his mind; laughing till you couldn't breath, laying down under the stars, holding each other to sleep, the simple comfort of just being around you.

Every single thing around him reminded him of you, even things he didn't realise were yours. Once, he felt warm and lovable, but now? Now he felt like a cold, empty void filled his heart. Everything seemed different, even the air.

Everything led back to you.

It was him who pushed you away, who told you he needed space, when all he needed was you. He regretted everything he said that night, so much. He knew he was hurting, and took it on you. The only person who actually understood him.

And just like, you were gone out of his life. He remembers the door banging shut as you left, his voice hoarse from shouting and arguing with you, a crumpled tissue in his hand, full of the tears you wiped away from your eyes and threw at him.

He didn't know why he did it, why he ended things. But he knew he wanted you back, so badly. And now, he's left wondering if you two could've fixed it, or if it was already too late by the time he finally realized.

He felt his heart tighten, the longing pain taking a hold of him. Everything seemed to suffocate him, as if a snake was being around his body, its hold tight and choking. His surroundings felt empty. Dark. Overwhelming.

The silence was deafening. Joao couldn't take it anymore.

The remote was laying beside him, and he grabbed it, switching on the large TV screen in front of him. The light shining at his face was too bright, and the show that was on was your favourite.

He'd do anything to get you to come home to him. To kiss him. To hug him. To love him.

Joao regretted his actions, he knew he messed up. He should've gathered his thoughts and followed you out as you shut the door. He should've went to your apartment and begged you for forgiveness. If he had done that, maybe he wouldn't be thinking about it now.

The idea haunts him, that everything between you could've been fixed with a few words, a little patience. He could be with you now, but no, he was and idiot and he lost you because of it.

The reality hits: it’s over. He knows you can’t go back to what you were. He tries to distract himself with everything around him, but it feels pointless. Everything felt pointless.

For now, all he could do was spend his days in a haze, reminiscing you

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

EYES ON YOU PART 3 ✧.* joao felix

requested by: @iluvjoaofelix14

part 1 part 2

warnings: none

MASTERLIST

It had been a week since your first date with Joao, and yet, you still weren’t over it.

You and Lila were sprawled across your bed, a bowl of popcorn between you as music played softly in the background. Lila was lying on her stomach, scrolling through her phone, while you stared at the ceiling, reliving every little moment from that night.

"So, let’s recap," Lila said, tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it in her mouth. "You guys went to that cute little Italian place, talked for hours, he walked you home, and then—"

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. "Lila—"

She grinned. "And then he kissed you on your doorstep like something straight out of a rom-com!"

Your face heated up. "Okay, yes, fine. He kissed me."

Lila sighed dramatically. "Ugh. It’s like a football fairytale. Do you think I should start writing wedding speeches now, or—"

You threw a pillow at her. "Shut up."

She cackled, but before she could continue, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached for it lazily, not thinking much of it—until you saw the name on the screen.

Joao.

Your heart did a little flip. He hadn’t called you out of the blue before.

Lila immediately noticed your expression. "What? Who is it?"

You swallowed, turning the phone toward her.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God. Answer it! What are you waiting for?!"

You took a deep breath, then picked up. "Hey, Joao."

There was a pause. Then, finally, his voice—soft, hesitant. "Hey."

Something was wrong.

You sat up, suddenly alert. "What’s going on?"

Another pause. Then—

"I’m leaving England."

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. "What?"

Joao exhaled. "I just got the call. I’m going on loan to AC Milan. I leave tonight."

Your heart dropped. "Tonight?"

"I wanted to tell you sooner, but everything happened so fast," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Can you come to the airport?"

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Joao was leaving. Just like that.

Lila sat up beside you, watching your expression shift from confusion to sadness. She didn’t know what was happening yet, but she could tell something was wrong.

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. "Yeah," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll be there."

Joao let out a small breath, like he was relieved. "Okay. I’ll see you soon."

When you hung up, Lila grabbed your shoulders. "What happened? What’s wrong?"

You blinked, trying to process it all. "Joao’s leaving. He’s going on loan to Milan. Tonight."

Lila’s mouth fell open. "What the hell?!"

"He wants me to come to the airport so we can say goodbye."

Lila was already jumping off the bed. "Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!"

The drive to the airport was a blur. You stared out the window, trying to keep yourself together, but the lump in your throat was growing by the second.

"He’s going to come back, you know," Lila said, glancing at you. "It’s just a loan. He’s not leaving forever."

You nodded, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

By the time you arrived, the departures terminal was busy with travelers rushing around, but you only had eyes for one person.

And then—you saw him.

Joao stood near the check-in area, hoodie pulled over his head, hands tucked into his pockets. But when he saw you, his whole face softened.

You barely took two steps before he was in front of you, looking down at you with those warm, familiar brown eyes.

"Hey," he said softly.

You swallowed. "Hey."

His gaze flickered over your face, like he was trying to memorize every detail. "I didn’t want to leave without seeing you."

You nodded, trying to smile, but your throat was tight. "I’m really gonna miss you, Joao."

His brows furrowed, and then suddenly, his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "Don’t cry," he murmured. "I’ll come back."

You let out a shaky breath. "You promise?"

His lips quirked up in the smallest, saddest smile. "I promise."

And then—he kissed you.

Soft, warm, lingering. Like he wanted to stay in this moment forever. Like he didn’t want to leave at all.

Lila, standing a few feet away, practically squealed under her breath. "Oh my God."

But just as you melted into the kiss, something inside you snapped.

You suddenly pulled back, heart racing.

Joao blinked in confusion. "What’s wrong?"

You didn’t even think before you said it. "I’m going with you."

Joao’s eyes widened. "What?"

"You can’t," he stammered, looking completely overwhelmed. "You have a life here—"

"Yes, she can," Lila interrupted, stepping forward with a wicked grin. "I’ll pack your stuff and send it to you. Go."

You turned to her, heart pounding. "Are you sure?"

Lila rolled her eyes. "Babe. The love of your life is about to get on a plane. Go."

Tears welled in your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. You threw your arms around Lila, hugging her tightly. "I love you so much."

She laughed. "I know. Now get out of here before I start crying too."

You turned back to Joao, who was still staring at you like he couldn’t believe this was real.

"You really want to come with me?" he asked, voice soft, uncertain.

You smiled, taking his hand in yours. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

For a moment, he just looked at you, his lips parting like he wanted to say something. But then, instead of speaking—he kissed you again.

And this time, it wasn’t a goodbye.

❦ - a quiet kind of love.

warnings:: none!

summary:: after years together, love has settled into something softer, quieter, but no less powerful. in the midst of gavis busy career, you both find comfort in the small things.

writers note:: i lowkey have to stop myself and put me in my place whilst writing so ignore that…

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @cherryloveshs

You wake up to the sound of rain against the window, the soft pattering a familiar comfort. The sky outside is overcast, casting a grayish hue across the bedroom, but the warmth beside you makes up for it. Gavi is still asleep, face turned toward you, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. His breathing is slow, steady, the kind of peace he rarely gets when football demands everything from him.

You take a moment to watch him, something you don’t often get to do. Most mornings, he’s up before you, rushing to training, pressing hurried kisses to your forehead before disappearing out the door. But today is different, today, he doesn’t have anywhere to be.

Carefully, you reach out, fingers tracing lightly over his cheek. He stirs at the touch, eyes fluttering open, still hazy with sleep.

‘Morning,’ he mumbles, voice thick and drowsy.

‘Morning.’

He shifts, pulling you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms tighten around you, and you laugh softly. ‘You’re warm,’ he mutters. ‘Stay like this.’

You do. You let him hold you, let the quiet settle between you. There’s something about these moments that makes everything else feel far away, the stadiums, the fans, the flashing cameras. Here, he’s just Gavi. Your Gavi.

Eventually, though, hunger wins out. You press a kiss to his temple before slipping out of bed, ignoring his grumbled protests. ‘I’m making breakfast,’ you tell him.

‘Come back.’

‘You can join me in the kitchen.’

He groans but follows you not long after, appearing at the doorway in his sweatpants and one of his hoodies.

‘You look good,’ you tease, pouring him a cup of coffee.

‘Obviously.’ he says, smirking as he takes the mug from your hands. He kisses your cheek in thanks before sitting at the counter, watching as you move around the kitchen.

Breakfast is easy, eggs, toast, some fruit. Nothing extravagant, but it feels like something special just because it’s shared. Gavi reaches for your hand at some point, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your palm while he eats with his other hand. It’s a habit of his, one you don’t think he even notices.

‘You’re staring,’ he says after a while, amusement flickering in his eyes.

‘I like looking at you.’

He huffs out a laugh, cheeks tinged pink. Even now, after years together, he still blushes when you say things like that. ‘Corny,’ he mutters, but he squeezes your hand anyway.

The rest of the day passes in a comfortable blur. You lounge around the apartment, curled up together on the couch while a movie plays in the background. It’s one you’ve both seen a hundred times, but neither of you really care. Gavi’s head rests in your lap, fingers toying with the hem of your sweater, and you run your hands through his hair absentmindedly.

‘Are you happy?’ he asks suddenly, voice quiet.

The question catches you off guard. You glance down at him, brows furrowing slightly. ‘Of course I am. Why would you ask that?’

He shrugs, eyes still on the screen. ‘Just wanted to make sure.’

You pause, then lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. ‘I’m always happy with you.’

That seems to ease something in him. He turns his head slightly, lips brushing against your wrist as he exhales. ‘Good.’

Later that night, as you’re getting ready for bed, he pulls you into his arms again. He’s always been like this, clingy when he’s tired, when he doesn’t have the weight of expectations on his shoulders.

“I love you,’ he murmurs against your skin.

“I love you too.”

It’s simple. No grand declarations, no need for anything extravagant. Just the quiet, steady kind of love that lingers in the spaces between words.

And that’s more than enough.

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

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

-Much love, Bianca 🌻

Inocencia

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — In which you and Jude are soulmates.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 24.2k

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

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

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

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

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

So you became a master of disguise.

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

At school, the contrast was striking.

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

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

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

And then came Charlie.

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

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

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

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

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

And that scared you as much as it fascinated you.

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

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

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

And that’s how you ended up there.

The nightclub was chaos incarnate.

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

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

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

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

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

Loosening up was easier said than done.

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

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

And that’s when you met him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pushed them away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But something about him made you pause.

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

Maybe it was time to try.

So you nodded. “Yeah.”

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like it.

You love him.

********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jude huffs, his smirk faltering. “Smartass.”

“Yup,” you agree, grinning back.

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

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

He shrugs. “Whatever you want, babe.”

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

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

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

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

*********

The apartment feels quieter than usual without Charlie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dinner is a blur after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jude,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s overwhelming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, baby?,” he murmurs huskily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*********

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

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

Now, though? It’s radio silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, not looking at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” you breathe out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

********

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Your voice comes out pouty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Charlie!" You push her with a giggle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"See you soon, love."

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

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

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

"Will do," you say, smiling softly.

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink up at him, wide-eyed. "Scandalous?" Is this it?

"Yep," he says with a wink. "Like…watching a movie we’ve already seen twenty times while cuddling on the couch. Absolutely outrageous, right?" You try not to deflate at his words and he must've noticed because he smirks down at you.

You let out a soft force chuckle, not seeing the teasing grin on his face. "Yeah, sure."

"Great!" Jude quips, tugging you toward the living room. "C’mon, let’s pick something good."

By "good," you know he means your favorite DVD, the one you’ve insisted on watching so many times that you’re sure he knows half the lines by heart. Sure enough, you makes a beeline for the small shelf in your room, plucking the case from its spot with a triumphant flourish.

"We have to find something new, you know that right?" he teases as you holds it up for him to see. Like he doesn't love it just as much as you. Maybe more. Not that he'll ever admit that to you.

"And yet you keep coming back," you counter quietly, feeling braver than usual.

Jude’s grin softens into something sweeter as he crosses the room to stand in front of you. "Because you’re worth it," he says simply, his voice so sincere it makes your chest tighten. He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before taking your hand again and leading you to your bed. "Now let’s go watch our favorite movie while cuddled in bed like good little nerds."

You follow him, feeling like you’re floating.

The movie’s been playing for about twenty minutes when you finally start to relax, tucked under Jude’s arm with a cozy blanket draped over both of you. The familiar dialogue flows easily in the background, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of Jude’s chest against your side. You're lulled into a state of peace, your head resting against his shoulder, your leg draped over his as you settle in.

It's when the movie gets to the good part that you hear (feel) Jude's stomach growl from under your ear, the low sound vibrating up his chest.

"Shit," he mutters with a quiet laugh, rubbing a hand absently over his stomach. "I’m fucking starving."

You lift your head from his shoulder to peer at his face. “You want me to make you something?” you ask, even though you don't feel like cooking, your hand coming up to copy his gesture.

His eyes flick down to yours, "Yeah," he says slowly, his voice low and soft. He lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a touch so gentle you barely feel it. His gaze follows the motion, his eyes darkening. "That’d be great, baby."

Your pulse quickens at the softness of his tone, but you nod and slip out of his arms, the movement sending the blanket tumbling to the bed. You slip out of the room, feeling his eyes on your back like a caress.

When you return with two bowls of popcorn in hand and a couple bags of snacks, Jude looks up from the spot he's settled in on the couch, his eyes sliding to yours for a heartbeat before dropping down to the food.

“Thank God,” he murmurs, taking one of the bowls from your hands with a grin. You try not to notice the way he brushes his fingers against yours as you pass him the bowl, but the touch makes your stomach flip anyway.

You sink back down beside him on the bed and take a seat. His leg presses up against yours, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and you feel yourself melting into him automatically, his warmth and scent pulling you in.

Jude lifts a handful of popcorn to his mouth, chewing as he settles his arm around your shoulder, the motion drawing you in even closer, until you're practically nestled against his side. His other hand lands on your thigh, his thumb brushing a slow pattern against your leg as he watches the movie. The motion sends a shiver up your spine, and you find your eyes dropping to the sight of his large hand against your leg, his fingertips lightly tracing the soft skin.

The feeling of his hand on you, the heat of his body against yours, is so good that you forget everything else around you—his soft, contented munching, the gentle way he tugs you in closer every now and then, the way you can feel his breath ghosting along the back of your neck and sending shivers up your spine.

You forget about it all until you feel his eyes on you, and you glance up to meet his gaze.

Jude is staring at you, his eyes half-lidded and his face tilted toward you. His expression is soft, his gaze almost… hungry. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, his teeth catching it for just a heartbeat before he lets it slide free. You watch the whole thing in rapt fascination, your cheeks flushing when his gaze flicks down to yours and catches you staring.

"See something you like?" he asks with a low smirk, his voice soft and playful.

You feeling your skin heat up, feeling your pulse quicken and your stomach clench. You lower your eyes, biting your bottom lip to try and contain the frown that's threatening to break across your face.

"Y/N." His voice drops even lower, his hand tightening on your leg as you feel him lean in. His warm breath feathers along the shell of your ear, making you shiver and squirm. "Look at me."

Your eyes flick up to meet his, and his gaze is so warm that you can't look away. You're caught in his stare, the heat building between you like a flame.

"You're really fucking cute when you're shy," he murmurs softly, his grin widening as he reaches up to brush his thumb against the apple of your cheek, his touch feather-light. His eyes follow the motion, and his lips part as he takes a shallow breath, his body seeming to lean in on its own.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you forget to breathe for just a heartbeat as he presses his lips to yours, the kiss light and quick. When he pulls back, he doesn't go far, his face still hovering just a breath away.

"What?" you whisper, your pulse quickening at the way his eyes seem to darken as they drop down to look at your lips.

He lets out a soft, deep chuckle that vibrates through his chest. "What do you think?" His gaze is full of heat as he leans in again, the kiss softer this time, his lips barely brushing over yours. The motion makes you melt into him, your body seeming to go pliant under his touch. "You're too fucking sweet."

Your stomach flips at the way he says that, your hand coming up automatically to cup his neck. You draw him in, deepening the kiss with a soft sound, and he makes a pleased noise against your lips as he opens for you, letting you in.

The kiss turns soft and gentle, a sweet press of lips that makes you feel all fluttery inside, and you sink into it like a fish to water, losing yourself in the heat between you.

When Jude pulls back this time, it's with a groan, his brow furrowing as he tugs away, his breathing a little ragged. "We gotta stop."

You frown, feeling the sudden loss of him like a cold shower. You hesitate for a second, then reach out to cup his face with your palm, my thumb brushing over the sharp curve of his cheekbone.

"Jude—" you start softly, and he lets out another soft groan, sinking into your touch as he closes his eyes for a moment.

"Hm?" he hums against your palm, his tone low and tortured.

"I want you," you whisper, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

His eyes fly open at your words, his gaze snapping back to yours, and for just a heartbeat, he looks almost pained. Then he lets out a harsh breath and drops his head to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I—fuck," he mutters, his voice muffled against your skin, and you can feel his body vibrating with the tension of his emotion. His hand cups the back of your skull, pulling you in closer. "I need a minute."

Your brows furrow at his words. What's wrong? you want to ask, but then Jude lets out a soft groan and bites you lightly on the neck, and all thoughts fly out of your mind.

His lips press to your skin with a soft, wet sound, the suction making your stomach flip. When he pulls back to look up at you, his mouth is swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded. He stares at you for a long moment, his gaze roaming down over your features before meeting yours again.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, your heart beating in your throat. I've never been more sure of anything.

Jude groans softly and kisses you again, the motion firm and deep as he pushes you backward until you're lying flat on the bed, his body covering yours. "How far do you want to go?" He mutters against your mouth, his voice deep and husky, his tongue darting out to trace your lips.

You hesitate for a heartbeat, unsure of how to answer. "Just… more than this?" you mumble softly, your hand tracing up his arm and coming to rest on his chest.

His other hand slides down to your waist, his fingers curling around your hip as he shifts, pressing you back into the bed. The weight of him, the heat of his body against yours, is overwhelming in the best way, and you can’t help the soft sound that escapes you.

"God, you’re perfect," he mutters. His lips trail down to your jaw, then your neck, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses that make your skin tingle. "Tell me if I’m going too far, okay? Promise me."

You nod wordlessly, unable to speak around the pulse pounding in your throat.

Jude trails his lips along your collarbone, nipping gently at the skin before he lifts his head and catches your eyes with a heated look. "If it feels good," he starts slowly, his gaze locked on yours as his hand shifts up to cup your face, "tell me."

His other hand drops to your waist again, his palm skimming along your hip before sliding up underneath your shirt to land on the bare skin of your stomach. You gasp at the feeling of his warm palm against your skin, your breath catching as his fingers splay out over your belly, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"You like that, baby?" His eyes are dark with arousal as he stares down at you, his fingers sliding up to trace over the underside of your breast through your bra. The touch sends a shock straight through your body, your eyes fluttering closed. "Tell me, Y/N," he urges softly.

You gasp softly, letting out a wordless sound as you arch under his touch, your hands coming up to cling to his shoulders. You feel like you're melting into him, like your body is going limp as you let out another soft sound. "Yes."

Jude groans and presses a kiss to your neck, his mouth moving against your skin as he speaks. "Good girl." His hand moves up again, his fingers tracing up the bare skin of your side before his palm cups your breast, his thumb brushing lightly over your nipple.

You gasp again, your breath catching in your throat as you squirm under his touch. He doesn't stop, though; his fingers slip under the edge of your bra cup to brush over your nipple with a feather-light touch.

"God," he mutters hoarsely against your skin, his palm moving in a slow circle over your breast. "You have no idea how fucking good that feels."

His other hand shifts down to settle on your thigh, just above the knee, and you feel a shiver run through you. Your pulse is racing in your ears, the touch of him setting your whole body aflame.

You squirm under him, a soft, high-pitched moan slipping from between your lips, and Jude’s groan is immediate and deep. He shifts to settle his leg between your thighs, and you gasp again at the feeling of him against you. You can feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and the sensation sends another shiver up your spine.

"Fuck, Y/N," he rasps against your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers trail down your ribs to your stomach, his palm landing flat against your belly with a soft press. "You’re gonna kill me."

The feeling of his hands on you is too much, and you squirm again, arching under his touch as you let out a high, breathless sound. Jude curses softly, shifting his leg against your center, and you feel another rush of wetness slip from you. His palm moves down to settle between your legs, his hand covering your mound with a warm press that makes you gasp.

"Tell me," he rasps, his voice full of emotion as he kisses your neck again. "Does this feel good?"

You can’t speak; all you can manage is a wordless nod, your hips arching up against his hand. Jude groans again, his breath feathering along your neck, his lips brushing a trail down to the neckline of your shirt.

He's still kissing you when he slides his hand down the waistband of your pants, his fingers trailing over the wet cotton of your panties before slipping under the edge to press against your bare skin. You feel a rush of pleasure at the touch, your whole body tensing, and Jude curses again softly as his palm presses against you, the weight of him making you feel warm and safe.

"Is this okay?" he asks raggedly, his fingers moving up to stroke against your clit through your panties.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp as your hips shift against his palm. You nod wordlessly, your hands shifting up to clutch at his shoulders, and Jude groans again at the sensation of you against him.

"I need words baby," he rasps, his finger slipping under the cotton to brush against your clit with a slow press.

You let out another high-pitched sound, squirming under his hand as his finger shifts to rub against you in slow circles. His palm presses against your mound with a gentle weight, the pressure building between your legs and making your breath come in short, shallow gasps.

"Jude…please," you gasp, your hips shifting against his hand again.

"Please what?" He nuzzles your neck again, his lips feathering a trail along the skin. His finger doesn't stop moving, though, the feeling sending a rush of warmth through you. "Tell me what you need."

Your cheeks flush at his words, and you swallow hard. "Jude…" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Come on," he rasps gently against your ear. "Tell me."

You squirm again, trying to get away from the feeling of his finger on your clit and the sudden wave of embarrassment that crashes over you. Jude doesn’t let you escape, though; his other arm tightens around your waist as his finger presses down harder against your clit, making the pleasure build between your legs.

"Yes!," you moan again, your voice high and breathless, your legs squirming against his hips. "More! P-please."

He groans loudly against your neck, his teeth catching at the skin in a sharp nip that makes you cry out. "God, fuck. You’re so good for me," he mutters in a hoarse rasp. Then he's pulling away. "Take off your pants for me baby. I wanna see you."

You nod, your hands dropping to your waist as you shove the fabric down. You’re not even fully out of them when Jude slides in the bed behind you. His arms come up around your waist, drawing you back against him, and his mouth drops to nuzzle against the back of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

He pulls you flush against him, his hips fitting against your ass in a way that makes you realize just how turned on he is. You let out another soft gasp, squirming back against him as you feel the length of his cock pressing between your ass cheeks.

Jude groans loudly again, his hands coming up to grip your hips as he pulls you more firmly against him. "Fuck, you feel so good," he rumbles, his mouth nuzzling a trail up the back of your neck. He kisses your skin softly, the warm press of his lips sending another shiver through you.

His hands move down to slip under the edge of your underwear, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. You feel your stomach clench, the anticipation building inside you as his hand skims up to press between your legs. His fingers slide against your wet pussy, his palm cupping you firmly with a possessive press that makes your whole body tremble.

"Fuck," he growls hoarsely again, his lips trailing down to press a kiss to the back of your shoulder. "You're so wet for me." His fingers shift to press your folds through the fabric, stroking lightly against your clit as the wet slick sound of your arousal fills the air. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

You gasp at his words, feeling a hot blush rise up your neck. "Y-yes…" you gasp out.

He groans again, "You're really fucking perfect for me, you know that?" he rasps. "Take these off for me, baby."

You swallow hard, your hands lifting to your sides as you move to shimmy out of your panties, quickly closing your legs as soon as they're off. You hear Jude’s groan against your hair a moment before you feel his palm press down to your thigh.

"You getting shy on me, princess? Hm?" His voice is teasing as he nudges your legs apart again, his fingers trailing down over your skin as he pulls them further and further apart. You gasp softly as you feel your pussy lips spread with the movement, your clit throbbing. "Open up for me."

Your blush deepens, and you hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do, but Jude’s warm breath on your neck is making you melt and your thigh part for him.

"Good girl," he praises softly. "Now let me see what's mine." His hand trails down to settle between your spread legs, his palm cupping your pussy firmly with a warm weight. Your eyes roll back at the sensation. "Look how wet you are," he groans. "You're fucking dripping for me, baby."

His hand shifts, his fingers dipping down to press against your folds, and the feeling is so good it makes you shiver. You gasp again, feeling another rush of liquid heat slip from you as his fingers spread your lips apart. You feel the cool air brush against your wet skin, and you blush hotly again at the sound of your own wetness filling the air.

"Look at that pretty pussy," Jude rasps, his voice deep and rough as he looks down over your shoulder at your wet folds "Fucking gorgeous."

His fingers shift to press against you again, and he lets out a pleased sound as he feels your wetness, his voice dropping to a deep whisper. "You love it, don't you?" he rumbles. "I can tell by the way you soak my fingers." He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck again, his breath making your skin prickle.

"Yes," you moan softly, your eyes drifting closed at the pleasure of his fingers against you.

Jude groans in response, his hand tightening around your hip as his fingers stroke against you faster. The feeling is so good that you can’t hold back your high-pitched sounds.

"Want me to make you cum, sweetheart?" he rasps against the skin of your neck, his fingers finding your clit with a sure press. The pleasure is so intense that you cry out at the sensation, your legs quivering as his thumb begins to rub against you with slow circles.

"Yeah?" Jude whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky. "Give it to me, baby." His voice is like liquid honey against your skin as his fingers shift, two of them sliding up to circle your clit in tight motions, the pad of his thumb rubbing against you in a steady, soft press.

You're so wet that you can hear the sloppy sound of him touching you, his palm cupped around your mound to shield it from the cool air of the room. You can tell he likes it, too; his breath is hot against your neck, and he groans roughly at the feeling of you in his hand.

The contrast between the heat of his palm and the chill of the air makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the way his fingers are lazily stroking through your slickness, his touch teasing, reverent.

“God,” Jude groans, the sound raw, like he’s barely keeping himself together. “You hear that, sweetheart?” His voice is heavy with something dark and sweet, something that makes your stomach flip. “So fucking wet for me.”

You let out a tiny whimper, embarrassed but unable to deny how much you like the way he’s touching you, the way he’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. You try to close your thighs instinctively, but he doesn’t let you, his hand pressing you open again with a quiet chuckle.

“No, no, don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. “Let me make you feel good, baby. Let me take care of you.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod, your face burning, and he exhales a quiet curse before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Can I stick a finger in, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, like honey, like he already knows the answer. He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, just barely there, waiting, teasing.

You gasp at the sensation, your hips arching against his hand without thinking, seeking more. You don’t even realize how eager you are until you hear the sharp breath he takes in, feel the way his other arm tightens around your waist, holding you flush against him.

“That’s a yes?” Jude teases, but his voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back.

You nod, swallowing thickly, and then his finger presses inside you, sinking in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open in the most delicious way. Your breath stutters, a soft, helpless sound escaping you as your body adjusts to the intrusion, and Jude groans in response, his face pressing against your hair.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough, almost pained. “You’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you as he strokes his finger in and out, curling it slightly with each movement. The sensation is foreign but intoxicating, sending little sparks of pleasure through your body with every slow, deliberate thrust.

His lips find your shoulder, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he moves, his breath fanning over you in hot, uneven bursts. “Little virgin pussy just for me,” he whispers against your skin, and the words send a rush of something heady and desperate straight to your core.

Your body clenches around him involuntarily, and he groans at the feeling, his whole body shuddering behind you. “Fuck, baby. Do that again.”

You don’t mean to, but the way he’s touching you, the way his palm is dragging against your clit every time his fingers move, it’s too much. Your body reacts on instinct, tightening around him again, and he curses under his breath, his teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder as if he needs something to ground himself.

“Jude,” you whimper, unsure of what you’re asking for, only knowing that you need more.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and then he’s slipping another finger inside you, filling you even more, stretching you in a way that feels impossibly good. His other hand slides under your shirt, palms up your stomach until he finds your breast, cupping it gently, his thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipple. “You’re taking me so well,” he praises, voice thick with adoration.

The combination of it all—the heat of his body, the skill of his fingers, the sweetness in his voice—is overwhelming, and you can feel something building, coiling tight in the pit of your stomach, desperate to break free.

He can tell. Of course, he can.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Jude murmurs against your skin, his fingers moving faster, his palm pressing just the right way against your clit. “You’re close, aren’t you? Gonna come for me?”

You nod frantically, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Good girl,” he breathes, his voice dripping with pride, and the praise sends you spiraling.

The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, your whole body trembling as your release washes through you.

"Oh, God!" You cry out, Jude’s name falling from your lips in a breathless moan, and he groans, holding you tightly as he works you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing it out until you’re completely spent, boneless in his arms.

You don’t realize how loud you were until the room falls into a thick silence, the only sound left is your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets.

Jude presses a slow, lingering kiss to the back of your head, his fingers slipping out of you with a wet pop, and you whimper at the emptiness, the oversensitivity. He shushes you gently, soothing you with soft touches, sweet kisses.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling against your hair. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Your heart is still pounding in your chest, your body still tingling, but all you can focus on is the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breath against your back.

For the first time in your life, you feel like you’re seeing color.

"That good, huh?," Jude murmurs as he pulls his fingers from between your legs, sliding them up to cup your pussy possessively with a slow rub. Then he brings the fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a quiet groan of pleasure as you watch, your breath catching in your throat at the sight. His eyes locks on yours, the heat between you palpable as you gasp.

You nod, your cheeks flushing as he smirks, his tongue darting out to lick his palm.

"Tastes so fucking good too," he mutters, his voice dark with emotion. He drops his head to press a kiss to your neck, your collarbone, his hands slipping up to grip your shoulders firmly.

It's like a switch had been flipped inside you—And all you know is that you never want to go without feeling that again.

You're still breathing fast, your heart still pounding in your ears, "God damn, baby. You're gonna be the end of me."

***********

Pleasure has had a whole new meaning for you since that night.

And Jude is relentless. Ever the indulger.

There are moments when it feels like he can't keep his hands off of you at all. It's like he's gone feral.

Like the other day when you were cooking dinner, and you were wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top that barely covered your ass.

You were leaning over to stir the pot of pasta, completely focused on your task, until you felt Jude’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you back against him. His chest was warm, solid, and you felt the slow rise and fall of his breathing against your back before his hands slid up to cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly with a low groan.

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” he murmured against your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “Walkin’ around like this, actin’ like I won’t do anything about it.”

Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against your ass, making you gasp. “J-Jude, I’m cooking.”

“Mhm.” He hummed lazily, fingers toying with your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. “And I’m hungry for something else.”

That ended with him eating you out for the first time, right there on the kitchen counter. An experience unlike any other. The way his tongue moved against you, how his fingers rubbed over your clit as he lapped at you—fuck. Just thinking about it makes your cheeks flush and your panties wet.

Then there was the time you fell asleep in his lap while watching a movie at his place.

You woke up to his hands between your legs. He wasn’t even doing anything, just keeping his hand there, warm and possessive. When you stirred and gave him a sleepy, questioning look, he just smirked down at you, dimples flashing.

“S’ mine,” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if you belonged to him in every possible way.

And, god, the way he looks at you sometimes. Like he’s starving. Like he’s memorizing every inch of you. Like he’s still in disbelief that you’re his.

Right now you're at his apartment getting ready for your picnic date. You've decided to spend the summer with him since going home is out of the question for you this year. You're super excited to go on this picnic. It’s a surprise, so you have no idea where you’re going. But, from the way Jude looks, you’re pretty sure it's going to be great. He's practically bouncing in excitement.

Jude’s apartment smells like sandalwood and something faintly citrusy, a scent that clings to his skin, to the soft cotton of his hoodie, to the air around you. You’re standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, smoothing out the fabric of your sundress, your heart fluttering with the kind of nervous excitement that makes your fingers tremble just a little.

Behind you, Jude is practically bouncing on his heels, barely containing his excitement. It’s endearing, the way he can hardly stay still, like a golden retriever about to go on a walk.

“You almost ready, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice warm, teasing.

You catch his gaze in the mirror—he’s watching you with an expression that makes your stomach tighten, makes heat rise to your cheeks. The way he looks at you, dark eyes smoldering with something unspoken, always makes you feel like he’s seeing more than just what’s on the surface. Like he’s memorizing you.

“I—I think so,” you say softly, reaching for your cardigan, but before you can grab it, Jude steps in behind you, his chest pressing lightly against your back. His fingers brush over your bare shoulders, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You don’t need this,” he murmurs, lips so close to your ear that you feel the warmth of his breath. “It’s warm out.”

You swallow hard, your skin prickling under his touch. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the worst part is that he enjoys it—loves the way you get all shy and flustered under his attention.

“I might get cold later,” you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.

Jude grins against your hair, his arms slipping around your waist, pulling you back against him. “I’ll keep you warm, baby.”

Your breath catches. The way he says it, so effortlessly, like a promise wrapped in silk, makes you dizzy.

“Jude…”

“Mm?”

“I—I thought we were leaving?” you manage, heart pounding.

He laughs, nuzzling into your neck, pressing a slow, lingering kiss just below your ear. “We are. But you keep distracting me.”

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you don’t trust yourself to say anything without making a complete fool of yourself, so you just push lightly at his arms. He chuckles but lets you go, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“Fine, fine. But you really do look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You duck your head, smiling despite yourself. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

You shake your head at him, but the warmth in his gaze, the sincerity laced in his words, makes your heart swell.

As you gather your things, Jude grabs the picnic basket, still humming under his breath, his excitement infectious. He won’t tell you where you’re going—he’s been annoyingly secretive about it all morning—but from the way he keeps stealing glances at you, like he’s holding onto some grand secret, you know it’s going to be something special.

The car ride is filled with soft music and Jude’s hand resting comfortably on your thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin. Every now and then, he glances at you, a small, knowing smirk playing at his lips whenever he catches you sneaking a look at him.

“Excited?” he asks.

You nod, fingers twisting together in your lap. “Yeah. I love surprises.”

Jude grins, squeezing your thigh. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna love this one.”

The drive takes longer than you expected, but you don’t mind. With Jude, time always seems to melt away, the world outside shrinking until it’s just the two of you, wrapped in a little bubble of quiet intimacy.

When he finally pulls up to the destination, your breath catches. The sun is beginning to dip in the sky, casting everything in soft golden hues, and in front of you is a secluded little meadow, framed by towering trees. It looks like something out of a painting, untouched and serene.

“Oh,” you breathe, stepping out of the car, eyes wide. “Jude… it’s beautiful.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Yeah? You like it?”

You nod, unable to find the right words.

“I wanted it to be special,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “For you.”

Your throat tightens at that, and you turn in his arms, looking up at him. The sunlight catches in his eyes, turning them into molten honey, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

“Jude…”

His fingers tilt your chin up, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” You swoon at how he still asks.

You don’t even have to answer. You lift onto your toes, closing the space between you, and he meets you halfway, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep, filled with all the things he doesn’t need to say out loud.

When you finally pull back, breathless and warm, he smiles against your lips. “Told you you’d love it.”

You laugh, heart full, and let him lead you toward the picnic he’s set up under the trees, the blanket spread out beneath the stars. It’s so romantic you could cry.

Jude wasn’t lying when he said you’d love it.

The picnic setup is nothing short of breathtaking. A thick, cozy blanket is spread over the grass, weighed down at the corners with a wicker basket, a bottle of wine, and a few lit lanterns that flicker warmly against the encroaching twilight. A small tent is pitched just a few feet away, its entrance left open, revealing plush pillows and more blankets inside. Everything about it feels intimate, private, like your own little world hidden away from everything else.

And Jude—God, Jude looks so pleased with himself, hands on his hips, watching your reaction with a boyish grin.

“You really did all this?” you ask softly, still a little stunned, still trying to process just how perfect it all is.

Jude chuckles, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Of course,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “Wanted to spoil my girl.”

Your face burns at that, heart skipping an entire beat. His girl. It’s ridiculous how much those two little words make you melt, how they settle so easily into your chest like they’ve always belonged there.

“I—I love it,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

His lips graze the sensitive spot just behind your ear, and you shiver, hands gripping his forearms instinctively. “You can thank me later,” he teases, his voice laced with something dark, something promising.

Your breath hitches. “Jude.”

He just chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your neck before pulling away. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s eat before you get all shy on me.”

He’s right—you’re already flustered, barely holding yourself together as you kneel on the blanket. Jude joins you, opening the basket to pull out an assortment of food. There’s fresh fruit, sandwiches, some of your favorite snacks, and even ingredients for s’mores.

“You thought of everything,” you muse, watching as he uncorks the bottle of wine with practiced ease.

“‘Course I did,” he says, winking. “Gotta impress my girl.”

Your stomach flutters. You shake your head, biting your lip as you take the glass he hands you, trying to suppress the ridiculous smile threatening to take over your face.

The two of you eat leisurely, the conversation flowing as effortlessly as it always does. Jude makes you laugh until your sides ache, teasing you in that way only he can—flirty, playful, but always affectionate.

It’s easy. Being with him.

Eventually, the stars come out, a sprawling canvas of light stretching endlessly above you. You lay back on the blanket, staring up in awe, while Jude props himself up on one elbow, watching you instead.

“You brought your telescope, yeah?” he asks.

You nod, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Mhm. It’s in the car.”

Jude smirks. “Think you could teach me some constellations?”

You hum, considering. “Depends.”

“On?”

“On how well you listen.”

He grins, leaning in, his face dangerously close to yours. “I always listen to you, sweetheart.”

Your breath catches. His hand finds your hip, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns through the fabric of your dress. “Jude…”

“Mm?”

“You’re distracting me.”

He laughs, low and deep. “Am I?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “Very much.”

Jude’s fingers tighten on your hip, just slightly, just enough for you to feel the possessiveness in the gesture. “That’s funny,” he murmurs, dipping his head so that his lips ghost over yours, not quite kissing you, just teasing. “Because you’ve been distracting me all damn night.”

Your pulse stutters. “I—I have?”

Jude exhales sharply, like he can’t believe you’d even ask. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your hands grip at his hoodie, trying to ground yourself, trying to breathe through the sudden onslaught of heat pooling low in your stomach. “Jude,” you whisper, barely able to get his name out.

He groans, like you saying his name alone is enough to drive him insane, and then he finally closes the distance, kissing you deep and slow, like he has all the time in the world to unravel you piece by piece.

And you let him. Because it’s Jude. Because you trust him. Because he makes you feel safe even when he makes you feel like you’re coming undone.

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless, dizzy. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, his fingers still gripping your hip like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, but he’s smiling when he says it, and you can’t help but smile too.

“You started it,” you tease, voice barely above a whisper.

Jude laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah.” He presses a quick, final kiss to your lips before rolling onto his back, staring up at the sky. “Go on, then. Teach me something.”

You giggle, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Okay,” you say softly, squeezing his hand once. “See that bright one over there?”

Jude hums, squeezing back. “Yeah.”

“That’s Vega.”

He turns his head to look at you, eyes full of something unbearably fond. “Is it the prettiest star?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Well, I—”

“Because if it is,” he interrupts, grinning, “then it makes sense why it reminds me of you.”

Your heart stutters, cheeks burning, and you groan, covering your face with your hands. “Jude.”

He laughs, warm and rich, pulling you closer until you’re curled into his side, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your ear.

You stay like that for a couple minutes, his fingers trace lazy patterns along your arm, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You feel safe here. Cherished.

And you make your decision.

“You’re quiet,” Jude murmurs, tilting his head down to look at you. His voice is low, roughened by the night air, by the intimacy wrapped around you both like a second skin.

You swallow, nerves bubbling in your stomach. You’ve been thinking about this for weeks now, letting the thought sit in the corners of your mind, letting it grow into something more solid, more certain.

And now, in the golden glow of this moment, with the stars watching and Jude holding you like you’re his world, you finally gather the courage to say it.

“Jude…” Your voice is small, hesitant. You shift slightly so you can look up at him, your heart hammering against your ribs. “I—I think I’m ready.”

His brows furrow, lips parting slightly as he processes your words. Then his expression softens, something warm and deep flickering in his gaze. “Ready for what, sweetheart?” He knows what you're asking for. But he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, so he waits for you to confirm.

You bite your lip, fingers twisting in the fabric of the blanket. It takes everything in you to hold his gaze, but you do, because you need him to know that you mean this. That you want this.

“For… us. For that.” Your cheeks burn, and you’re sure you must look ridiculous, but Jude just watches you, patient as ever. “I want to be with you. I want you to be my first.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Just stares at you with an unreadable expression, his grip on you tightening slightly. Then, slowly, his thumb brushes over your cheek, his touch feather-light.

“Are you sure?” His voice is barely above a whisper, careful and deliberate, like he’s giving you one last chance to change your mind.

You nod, pressing your cheek into his palm. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Something shifts in his gaze—something deep, something intense. His jaw tightens like he’s holding something back, but then he exhales, his hand slipping from your face to intertwine with yours.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay, baby.” He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Let's go inside then.”

You nod and he helps you up, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he moves too fast. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push. Just holds your hand as he leads you toward the tent, zipping it open and stepping aside to let you in first.

The inside is cozy, lit only by the soft glow of the lanterns Jude set up earlier. The air is warm, thick with something unspoken, something electric. You settle onto the pile of blankets and pillows, watching as Jude kneels in front of you, his hands resting on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice barely above a breath, as if the words are meant only for you and the universe.

You duck your head, suddenly shy, but Jude doesn’t let you hide. He reaches out, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over your cheek, then your jaw, then the corner of your lips. “I’ve got you.”

You nod, exhaling softly. “I know.”

His lips find yours then, slow and tender, like he’s savoring the moment. His hands are gentle as they slide up your arms, over your shoulders, down your back. There’s no rush, no urgency—just soft touches, soft kisses, soft whispers.

The world outside fades into nothingness, leaving only the two of you. The stars, once so distant, now feel like they're watching closely, witnesses to something both innocent and deeply intimate. His kiss deepens slowly, the pressure of his lips soft and coaxing, as if he's waiting for you to lead, to guide him through this moment. His hands are everywhere, but always with a reverence, like he's treating every inch of you as something precious.

You feel your pulse quicken under his touch, the fluttering of nerves mixing with something else, something sweet. He can sense it, too—how your breath catches every time he moves, every time his fingers graze your skin.

“Hey,” Jude murmurs against your lips, his voice a touch rougher now, laced with need. He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. “It's just me, okay? Always just me.”

You nod, swallowing hard, but Jude's fingers tighten on your waist like he needs more assurance. Like he needs to hear it from you.

“Just you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's eyes flash with something like triumph, and his lips find yours again in a kiss that's soft, deep, devouring.

Jude is gentle, almost unbearably so, as he slowly tilts you back onto the pillows. The world seems to narrow to just the two of you—the rustling of the blankets beneath you, the warmth of his hands steadying your body, the quiet exhale of his breath fanning against your skin. Your hair spreads out like a halo against the sheets, and Jude just stares for a moment, his gaze roaming over you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

"Fuck baby, look at you," he murmurs, voice rough, reverent. "You don't even know how pretty you are, do you?"

You swallow hard, looking at him through wet clumpy lashes, the warmth of him overwhelming you already. Jude bites his bottom lip at the sight of you already so fucked out for him. You're so fucking pretty and he can't wait to ruin you.

Jude’s weight shifts over you as he lowers himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that steals the breath from your lungs. He’s everywhere—his scent, his warmth, the solid weight of him pressing into you in all the places you’re most sensitive. You feel him, all of him, and your lashes flutter as you try not to tremble beneath him.

His hands slide up your sides, slow and deliberate, his fingers catching the hem of your dress. He pushes the fabric up inch by inch, exposing more of your skin to the cool air, and then he makes a sound—low, almost pained.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he breathes, dipping his head to your neck. He kisses you there, soft at first, then with more intent, dragging his lips over the delicate skin until he reaches your collarbone. His mouth is hot, open-mouthed, tasting you, lingering. The smell of you putting him in a haze. "Need to taste you. Gonna let me? Mhm?"

The words send a bolt of heat straight to your core.

You nod, but the motion is shaky, your lips parted as you struggle to find your voice. "Y-yeah," you whisper, barely more than breath.

Jude smiles against your skin, finding your shyness utterly endearing. Even after all this time you're still so fucking cute. "That’s my girl," he murmurs, his fingers trailing lower.

You feel them at the edge of your panties, feel the soft tug as he starts to slide them down. Your breath hitches, and Jude pauses immediately, glancing up at you. His eyes are warm, searching.

"Hey," he murmurs, pressing a kiss just above your navel. "You okay?"

You nod again, but he doesn’t move right away. He watches you, patient, waiting for you to really settle before continuing. It’s so incredibly tender that your heart squeezes in your chest.

When he finally does pull your panties away, his breath catches. His hands part your thighs, thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin there, and he exhales like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment. He has.

"Fuck, baby," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "Such a pretty pussy."

Your fingers curl into the sheets as he works his way lower, his lips tracing paths of fire down your legs, teasing, deliberate. You’re already shaking by the time his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your mound.

"Can I kiss it, baby?" His voice is low, dark, laced with something sinful, something that makes your entire body burn.

You can’t even speak. Your lips part, but no words come out, just a soft whimper that makes Jude grin against your skin. He loves this—the way you melt for him, the way you look at him with wide, innocent eyes like you can’t believe what’s happening.

"You’ve gotta tell me, princess," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles. "Need to hear you say it."

"Y-yeah," you stammer, barely audible, but it’s enough.

Jude groans, his lips pressing one last kiss to your inner thigh before finally, finally—

The first touch of his mouth is pure ecstacy. You gasp, your body jolting against the bed, and Jude hums in approval. His tongue moves slowly, languidly, savoring every inch of you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. You are.

"God, baby," he groans into you, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Taste so fucking good. Could stay here all night."

His hands slide beneath your thighs, pulling you closer, tilting your hips just right so he can get even deeper. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, and your entire body tenses. Your fingers shoot to his hair, gripping onto the dark coils as if they’re the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

Jude chuckles, and the sound is pure sin. "That good, huh?"

You let out a broken whimper, your head tipping back, your cheeks burning. He’s watching you—God, he’s watching you. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, dark and hungry, and the sight alone is enough to make your stomach twist with want.

"Look at you," he murmurs, licking into you again, slow and deep. "So fucking pretty when you let go for me."

You squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed, but he’s not having it. One of his hands moves up your body, sliding beneath your dress until he finds your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

"Don’t hide from me, sweetheart," he murmurs against your skin. "Wanna see you. Wanna watch you fall apart."

And you do.

With every stroke of his tongue, every whispered praise against your skin, and wet slick sound of his mouth, your body coils tighter, your breath coming in sharp little pants. It feels like you’re being pulled apart at the seams, every nerve on fire, and it’s terrifying, overwhelming, but Jude—he’s there, holding you, grounding you, whispering sweet nothings against your pussy.

When he flicks his tongue over your clit once more, you lose it.

Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing around him, and Jude holds you through it all, his tongue never ceasing its motion. He groans against your skin, his hand gripping your thigh hard, but you barely feel it. All you can do is sob his name, your head tipping back in a silent scream, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

Jude stays with you through it all—licking, sucking, slowly bringing you down from the high. He doesn’t stop until your body finally relaxes against the mattress, limp and warm and pliant. Then he moves up your body in a slow, languid crawl, lips dragging over your skin, kissing everything he passes. His fingers find your hair, stroking it back from your face, and then his mouth meets yours.

You're still reeling from what he's done, from the way he’s touched you, taken you apart like he was born to do it. Your body is thrumming, heat pooling low in your belly, and yet Jude’s kiss is gentle—softer than you expect, coaxing you back to reality, back to him.

He tastes like you—salt and sweetness mixed into something heady and intoxicating. The taste of him makes you whimper against his lips, and he swallows the sound like it’s his favorite thing in the world.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours, lips barely ghosting over your mouth as he speaks. "Still with me?"

You hum, nodding shyly, your fingers fisting the sheets beside you.

Jude grins against your lips, his voice turning teasing. "Good girl."

His words send a ripple of warmth through you, but before you can say anything, he leans back, arms flexing as he peels his shirt off in one smooth motion. The sight of him, shirtless and breathtaking, has your breath hitching. His body is all lean muscle, defined and golden brown. Spit pools in your mouth, and you have to swallow quickly to stop from embarrassing yourself.

Jude notices. Of course, he does. His smirk is knowing, his dark eyes full of mischief as he tosses the shirt aside.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?" he teases, voice dipping low, sinful.

Your face burns, but you can’t look away.

His laughter is soft, affectionate. "You’re too cute," he murmurs, brushing his fingers over your flushed cheek before dipping lower, reaching for the hem of your dress. His knuckles graze your skin, making you shiver. "Let’s get this off you."

Before you can protest, the fabric is slipping over your head and then—then you’re bare for him.

The moment stretches, thick with anticipation. You shift slightly, suddenly shy under his gaze, but Jude just looks at you like you’re a masterpiece, like he’s afraid to blink in case you disappear.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice rough, reverent. "You're so fucking pretty."

You barely have time to register his words before his lips are back on yours—hotter this time, more insistent. There’s no hesitation now, no teasing restraint. He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s trying to consume every last bit of you.

You gasp against his mouth, arching into him, needing more, and he groans, gripping your thigh and pulling it over his hip. The new angle has you feeling him more, the thick press of his cock through his pants sending sparks of desire shooting straight to your core.

"Jude," you whisper, breathless.

He presses his forehead to yours, his breathing ragged. "I know, baby," he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours. The friction is maddening, sinful. You moan, and he catches the sound with his mouth, swallowing it greedily.

"You're so soft," he whispers, his hands roaming, fingertips dragging over your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you. "So warm." Another roll of his hips, slow and deliberate. "I need you, baby."

His words send a shiver down your spine, heat curling deep inside you.

Jude’s mouth finds your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses down to your chest. His hands follow, palms covering your breasts, kneading softly before his thumbs brush over your nipples. The sensation is too much, not enough, all at once.

You whimper, your hands flying to his shoulders, clutching him.

"You're so sensitive," Jude mutters, voice thick with want. He pinches one of your nipples lightly, watching as you jolt beneath him. "Makes me so fucking hard."

His words are filthy, but instead of making you shy away, they send another wave of heat pooling between your legs.

Your eyes flicker downward, and you see it—see the thick outline of him straining against his pants. Your breath catches.

"Take them off," you whisper, surprising yourself.

Jude stills, his gaze snapping to yours, surprised. Then, he smirks, but there’s something darker, hungrier beneath it. "Yeah?"

You nod, biting your lip.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. In one swift motion, he kicks off his pants and boxer briefs, and then he’s bare before you.

Your breath stutters. He’s—God.

Thick, veiny and oh so hard.

Your thighs press together instinctively, and Jude notices. His smirk grows, but there’s a softness in his eyes, too. He leans down, brushing a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, your nose.

But then—

"Shit." He suddenly freezes, his face scrunching in frustration. "I don’t have condoms."

You blink, his words slow to register through the haze of desire clouding your mind.

Jude groans, dragging a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think we’d be doing this tonight."

You hesitate, then swallow your nerves. "It’s okay," you murmur. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around him, feeling the warmth, the weight of him in your palm. He sucks in a sharp breath. "I’m on birth control."

"Sweetheart," he groans, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. "Don’t do that."

But you do. You stroke him slowly, experimentally, fascinated by the way his breathing stutters, the way his jaw clenches like he’s barely holding himself together.

Jude curses under his breath, his head dropping to your shoulder. "You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up."

You hum softly, dragging your thumb over the tip, spreading the precum leaking out. He chokes on a groan, his hands gripping your hips tight.

You’ve never seen him like this—so undone, so desperate.

And God, you love it.

"Please, baby," he rasps, his voice thick with need. "Squeeze tighter for me."

You bite your lip as you obey, watching him through your lashes. He’s so big, so hard for you. Your walls clenches just thinking about it, a rush of slick flooding your core.

Jude notices. His eyes flick down to where your thighs press together, and then the last of his control snaps.

He grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from him.

His hands slide down, tracing the curve of your waist before gripping your thighs, spreading them open carefully.

"Tell me if it hurts, sweetheart," he murmurs, reaching down to stroke himself. He brushes his lips over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, soothing you in every way he can. "I’ll stop if you need me to. I’ll take care of you, I promise."

You believe him. You always have.

Then, he shifts, and you feel him at your entrance, his heavy gaze locked between your thighs. A nervous breath hitches in your throat, your fingers fisting into the sheets. Jude notices, of course he does, and his lips curve into a teasing smirk.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet like honey. “I got you.”

You nod, though your body remains tense, overwhelmed by his closeness, by the way his touch ignites something deep inside you. Then, he moves the head of his cock over your clit, slow and deliberate, rubbing lazy circles that have your breath stuttering. The sensation is new, foreign yet delicious, and just as you’re adjusting to the pleasure, he taps it against your swollen bud, making you jolt.

A soft gasp escapes you, your fingers gripping the sheets tighter.

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, shaking his head as he watches how his thick head glides easily between your slick folds. The sound it makes makes you bury you face in his shoulder “You’re so wet, baby. All fucking mine.”

His words send a rush of heat through your body, your cheeks burning as you turn your face to the side, too shy to meet his gaze. But Jude isn’t having it. He cups your chin gently, coaxing you to look at him.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. 

The hunger in his voice makes you clench and he groans at the feeling. Then, he’s pressing in, the thick head pushing past your entrance, stretching you in a way that makes you suck in a sharp breath. Your lashes flutter, but Jude’s there, his eyes locked on yours, his lips brushing reassuring kisses over your nose, your cheek.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know, baby.” 

He slides in further, slow, slow. You feel yourself spreading around his girth, the feeling of fullness intense but not quite painful. The dull pressure borders on discomfort, but Jude doesn’t rush you. He moves slowly, carefully, inch by inch, pausing to let you adjust, his hands soothing over your sides.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he praises, his lips brushing over your cheek, your jaw, down to your throat. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You exhale shakily, trying to relax as he pushes deeper. There’s a slight burn, your body resisting the intrusion, but the way Jude watches you—so patient, so gentle—eases the tension. He strokes your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, reassuring circles into your skin.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. His voice is wrecked, thick with restraint. “God, you feel so fucking good. So warm, so tight.”

Your nails dig into his back as he finally sinks in all the way, filling you completely. A whimper leaves your lips, overwhelmed by the stretch, by the feeling of being utterly, entirely full. Jude stills immediately, concern flickering across his face.

“Too much?” he asks, his thumb brushing your cheek.

You shake your head quickly, blinking up at him. “No—just… full,” you admit breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softens, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there.

He doesn’t move, just holds you, letting you adjust at your own pace. His lips find your neck, trailing slow, reverent kisses down to your collarbone. His hands never stop moving, caressing your thighs, your hips, your waist—everywhere. It helps, the ache easing into something warmer, something better.

You shift slightly beneath him, testing the sensation, and a tiny moan escapes you at the delicious friction. Jude groans, his fingers tightening on your hips like he’s barely holding on.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight. Pussy feels like heaven, baby.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, making you squirm in embarrassment. You bury your face against his neck, but he only chuckles, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Don’t be shy,” he coaxes, his voice laced with amusement. “I wanna hear you, sweetheart.”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them gently as he pulls out, slow and careful, before sinking back in. The friction sends a shiver up your spine, something new and intoxicating unfurling in your belly. Your breath stutters, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Jude watches you closely, his eyes dark and heated. Then, his lips twitch into a knowing grin.

“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pride. “You like that, baby?”

Your cheeks flame, but the pleasure is too much to deny. You nod, barely able to form words, and Jude groans, dropping his head to your collarbone as he fights to keep himself together.

“Fuck, this pussy,” the last sound drags out as his jaw goes slack. “fucking made for me.”

His thrusts remain slow, deep, every roll of his hips sending a ripple of pleasure through you. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, a sensation you can’t begin to describe. Every brush of his skin against yours sends sparks of sensation through your body.

It’s not long before you find yourself moving with him, arching beneath him, searching for more. He hums in approval, his teeth nipping gently at your neck as he thrusts into you deeper, harder. You cry out, a high whimper, and Jude swallows it greedily.

You’re completely lost in the sensation of him, the way he moves above you like a dream, like a vision. The way his lips drag over your skin, the soft praise against your ear, the heavy weight of him on top of you. It all feels so good, so overwhelming, that you find yourself clinging to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders like he’s the only thing that exists in this moment.

Jude growls, his mouth finding yours as he kisses you hard, deep. He fucks you into the mattress, hard and fast, rougher than he ever thought he’d be with you. But you—it’s like you were made for him, like your body was built for this, for his cock.

And it makes him crazy.

“Fuuuckk,” he rasps into your mouth, your lips barely parting for words. “Gonna cum for me? Hm?”

He slips a hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit. He strokes it, hard, slow circles that make you cry out. Your walls clench around him as he rubs you faster—it’s like the best thing you’ve ever felt.

And then…

"Oh, fuck! Jude!" you cry out, your back concaving into him as his tip grazes a spot that has tears spilling down your cheeks. You can only describe it as pure ecstasy and he’s not letting up. “Oh, God. Oh, God”

Jude curses, his hips moving faster, thrusting into your gspot over and over again. You’re sobbing now, "Found it."Jude whispers, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face as he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot over and over.  You're getting so close, your body’s a live wire, waiting to snap.

“Jude—fuck! I-I’m gonna cum!” you sob.

His hand tightens on your hip, his fingers bruising. “Then cum, baby,” he grunts, his own body tense, close. “Let me feel it. Cum for me, sweetheart. Fucking milk my cock.”

The filthy words send you over the edge, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you, a force so intense it steals the air from your lungs. Your fingers clutch at Jude’s broad shoulders, nails pressing into his flushed skin, as a broken sob falls from your lips. The pleasure is overwhelming—too much, too deep, too consuming—but you surrender to it, trembling as your body spasms around him.

"That’s it, love," Jude groans, his voice rough with desperation, his fingers tangling with yours as he pins your hands above your head, holding you there, helpless beneath him. “Jude,” you gasp, voice trembling, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

The sight of you—flushed, trembling, your lips parted in a breathless moan—Your slick gummy walls spasm around him, clenching tight, and it’s all Jude needs to follow you into the abyss of bliss.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest, his head tipping back as his thrusts turn frantic, desperate, chasing his own pleasure. You watch as his eyes roll back and his jaw goes slack as his mouth forms an 'O'. “Fuckkkk,” he grits out, his entire body shuddering. “That’s it, princess. Love this fuckin’ pussy.”

His hips stutter, his thick cock jerks inside you once, twice, then he’s gone—spilling deep inside of you with a strangled moan. You feel it—the warmth of him, thick and hot, filling you up completely. His body trembles against yours as he collapses, his chest pressing against your own, heartbeat wild and erratic.

For a few moments, there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the cool night air brushing over your sweat-slicked skin. The world outside the tent is quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets or the distant rustling of leaves.

Jude’s nose brushes against your temple, his lips following in a lazy path along your hairline, down your cheek, over your jaw. He peppers soft kisses across your skin, like he can’t bear to stop touching you. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he’s afraid you might slip away.

You blink up at him, your vision still hazy, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. And then, unexpectedly, a giggle bubbles past your lips. 

Jude stirs, lifting his head to look down at you with a lopsided grin. His honey brown eyes are filled with amusement, mischief, and something far softer—something that makes your stomach flip.

“What are you laughin’ at, princess?” His voice is hoarse, still rough with pleasure and a hint of exhaustion. His thumb strokes slow circles over your hipbone.

You shake your head, a little breathless, still giddy. “That was…” You pause, searching for the right words, but nothing feels like enough. Your cheeks burn as you hide your face against his shoulder. “I don’t even know how to describe it.”

Jude chuckles, the deep sound vibrating against your skin. “I think I do.”

You peek up at him, curiosity flickering in your dazed gaze. “Yeah?”

He hums, pressing another slow, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to study your face, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down at you, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against your skin

“It was,” he starts, dragging the moment out, watching the way your lips part slightly, the way your lashes flutter. He smirks. “Pretty fuckin’ perfect.”

Your blush deepens, and you swat at his chest, but your hand has no real strength behind it. “Jude,” you whine, embarrassed, but he only laughs, catching your wrist and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to your palm, then your fingertips, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I mean it,” he murmurs, voice lower now, more serious. “You’re perfect.”

Your heart stumbles, skipping a beat before thudding heavily against your ribs. You swallow, suddenly shy, suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in his gaze.

The way he's looking at you now. It's too much.

“I…” Your throat feels tight, words catching. But Jude just smiles, like he understands, like he doesn’t need you to say anything at all.

He shifts, rolling onto his side making you wince as you remember he's still inside you, bringing you with him so that you’re tucked against his chest, your leg draped over his hip, your face buried in the crook of his neck. His fingers trace lazy patterns down your spine, soothing, grounding.

It's so intimate; knowing that's he's inside you, the warmth of him filling you completely as you involuntarily clench around him. The knowledge of his cum still inside you and the slight burn from the stretch that's making your hips sore.

Jude groans quietly, his head tipping back at the overstimulation, his eyes falling closed as he tries to calm himself down. “Hold on, love, just a second.” He hisses out a breath and reaches down to grasp himself at the base before gently pulling out, whispering sweet nothings and soft apologies at the wince you let out.

The feeling of emptiness is immediate, your walls clenching, but you say nothing, just bite your lip and look away as Jude reaches for his shirt. He wipes himself clean before he getting up. You watch with confusion as he slips on his boxers and slides out of the tent. But it's not long before he's back. He crawls back inside with a wet cloth, a small bowl of fruits you packed earlier and your water bottle. He sits down next to you with a soft smile, the cloth held out in his hands. Your cheeks grow warm as you realize what he’s doing. 

“Spread your legs for me, princess .” His voice is soft, gentle. He waits patiently for you to do as he asks, and the way his eyes soften as you listen… It makes tears well up in your eyes. To be taken care of like this—is beyond what you expected. He cleans you gently before he sets the cloth down and reaches for the bowl of fruit.

His eyes light up as he holds a grape to your lips and you accept it with a giggle. He hands you a slice of apple next, and you take a bite, smiling softly at the sight of his relaxed expression. It's like nothing else exists, like only you two are here in the moment. After you finish your snack, he holds out your water bottle and you thank him as you take a long drink.

Jude watches you with something dangerously close to adoration, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s memorizing every little thing—your flushed cheeks, your sleepy eyes, the way your lips glisten as you sip from the bottle. His fingers trail absentmindedly over your thigh, warm and soothing, tracing lazy patterns onto your skin.

“You okay, love?” he murmurs, his voice thick with something soft, something that makes your chest feel too tight.

You nod, still shy, still unsure what to do with all the emotions swirling inside you.

Jude must sense it, must see the way you hesitate, the way your fingers fidget in your lap. He tilts your chin up with the barest touch of his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his expression unreadable.

"You're thinkin' too much," he teases gently. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You hesitate, your throat bobbing as you swallow. But under his gaze, so open and patient, you find yourself whispering, "Just… I don’t know how to explain it." Your fingers toy with the hem of the blanket, suddenly fascinated by the texture. "I just feel… full."

His brows lift, and for a second, a wicked smirk plays at the corners of his lips. “Full, huh?”

Your eyes widen as you catch the meaning, and you smack his arm with an indignant squeak. "Not like that, Jude!"

His laugh rumbles deep in his chest, rich and warm, and you feel it against your cheek where you’ve buried your face again, hiding. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against him with ease, his lips brushing against your temple.

"Alright, alright," he murmurs, amusement still thick in his voice. "I’ll behave."

You huff, but the way his fingers thread through your hair, his touch slow and methodical, makes your body melt against him. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, taking his time with each one like he’s savoring the taste of you.

“You feel full,” he echoes, more serious now, as if he’s trying to understand. "Full of what, love?"

Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, "I love you, Jude Bellingham ."

His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, but then a softness takes over, and his arms tighten, his hands cupping your face with such gentle care.

“Y/N Y/L/N” His voice is low, raspy, filled with something deep and real. "I love you too. More than I ever thought it was possible to feel. You’re my everything, Y/N. I never wanna spend another night without you in my arms. Every day without you feels too long, too much, too wrong. Will you marry me?"

The world slows, the weight of his words sinking into your bones, melting into the marrow. You blink, stunned, your breath caught somewhere between your ribs as your heart hammers wildly against your chest.

He shifts slightly, one arm still wrapped around you, the other reaching into the pocket of his discarded jeans. You watch, wide-eyed, as he pulls out a small velvet box. The soft glow of the lantern casts golden hues on his face, highlighting the nervous anticipation in his warm brown eyes.

“Jude…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your fingers trembling as you reach up, touching his cheek as if to confirm it’s real and not some dream spun from the afterglow of your love.

He smiles, tilting his head just slightly into your touch, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the small of your back. “Yeah, love. It’s real,” he murmurs, as if reading your thoughts. “Been carryin’ this around for weeks, waitin’ for the right time. And I realized… there’s no better time than right now.”

He flicks open the box, revealing a delicate ring, the band slender and elegant, a diamond nestled in its center, catching the lantern light and scattering it in tiny flecks across the canvas of the tent. Your breath catches, tears welling in your eyes, blurring the sight of it.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says, his voice steady, thick with emotion. “I know we haven't been together long, but I can’t live without you. Every single day, you make me happier than I ever thought I deserved. I love you. I love your shy little smiles, the way you tuck your face into my neck when you get flustered. I love the way you look at me like I hung the stars, when really, you’re the one that lights up my whole world.”

A soft, overwhelmed sound escapes your lips, something between a laugh and a sob, and he grins, his dimples carving into his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say yes right now,” he adds quickly, as if he’s worried you might feel pressured, as if he can’t bear to see even a hint of hesitation in your eyes. “I just… I want you to know that I’m all in. I wanna be yours for the rest of my life. Whenever you’re ready, whenever you want me—I’m here.”

Your hands shake as you reach for the box, fingers barely brushing the velvet before you shift, pressing forward, wrapping yourself around him as best as you can. Your lips find his—soft, eager, trembling against his own. He catches your breathy gasp with a quiet groan, deepening the kiss, his hands firm at your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

When you finally pull away, you’re breathless, your forehead resting against his. “Yes,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “Yes, Jude. I want you—I want forever with you.”

The way his face lights up, the way pure joy radiates from him—it steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” His voice wavers just slightly, disbelief laced into the happiness.

You nod fervently, laughing softly as tears slip down your cheeks. “Yes. A million times, yes.”

A sound rumbles in his chest—something between relief and elation—as he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking slightly. And then he’s kissing you again, laughing against your lips, his hands tangling in your hair, his body pressing you back down onto the soft blanket beneath you.

“You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, love.” His voice is warm, reverent, as his lips trail along your jaw, down the column of your throat. His fingers find your hand, threading through yours, the cool metal of your new ring pressing against his skin. “I swear, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret saying yes to me.”

You smile, your free hand slipping into his curls, tugging just slightly until he looks up at you, his eyes dark with something deep, something infinite. “I could never regret you, Jude.”

His breath stutters, and then he’s kissing you again, deep and slow, his love spilling from his lips, from the way his hands trace over your skin.

When he finally pulls away, you’re dazed, breathless, your fingers still curled into his like you don’t want him to go too far.

Jude chuckles, resting his forehead against yours again. “Gotta say, camping’s never been this fun before.”

You giggle, and the sound makes something warm bloom in his chest.

“I think I like it too,” you admit, your voice small, “Especially… with you.”

His arms tighten around you, and when he speaks next, his voice is quieter, raw with something unspoken.

“Good. ‘Cause I plan on makin’ a lot more memories with you, princess.” He tilts his head just enough to steal another soft kiss. “Forever and always, huh?”

“Forever and always,” you echo, smiling into the next kiss.

-Bianca🌻

Can you pls do some Jamal musiala writing? Maybe even like headcanons, like bullet points? Him as a bf or how he’d go about it or something else? Creative decision is yours 🤗

❦ - jamal musiala headcannons

summary:: just some simple jamal headcannons. 🤍

warnings:: none!

writers note:: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK LIKE 2 WEEKS TO WRITE THIS?? anyways yeah uhm i’ve had like no motivation and also been caught up w my gcse mocks so i hope u enjoy this!

ꨄ - jamal is the sweetest and most lowkey boyfriend ever. hesy not big on grand gestures, but he makes up for it with small, meaningful moments.

ꨄ - his texts are full of inside jokes, memes, and voice notes because he loves making you laugh even when he's away.

ꨄ - loves chill date nights, netflix marathons, late night drives, and cooking together (even though he's not the best chef).

ꨄ - he’s not the biggest party guy, so he prefers nights in over wild nights out. but if you like going out, he’ll come along just to see you happy.

ꨄ - he’s your biggest hype man. whatever you do, he’s your #1 supporter, always hyping you up and reminding you how amazing you are.

ꨄ - if he’s traveling for games, he makes sure to facetime you every night, no matter how late it is.

ꨄ - loves forehead kisses, both giving and receiving them. its his way of saying ‘i love you’ without words.

ꨄ - if you go to his games, he always finds you in the crowd and gives you a little wave or wink before kickoff.

ꨄ - if bayern or germany wins an important match, he’s running straight to you after the final whistle.

ꨄ - will deffo carry you around the house just because he thinks it's funny.

ꨄ - if you fall asleep on him, he won't move for hours because he doesn’t want to wake you up.

No. 27 | "Don't cry, I hate it when you cry." PG6

masterlist requests prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: none.

After yet another long day of work, you walk back through your apartment door and put your bag and coat on the hanger, tiredly wandering into the dining room and rubbing your eyes. You get the fright of your life, your boyfriend sitting at the table with a giant grin. After you calm down from the scare, you laugh slightly.

“Dios mío, Pablo. Some warning would’ve been nice.” He stands up and comes towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Lo siento (i’m sorry), I wanted to surprise you.” “Well, you definitely nailed the ‘surprise’ bit.” you chuckle, laying your head on his chest. “I cooked for you. Your favourite.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? Why?” “Why not?” he shrugs, “You’re my girlfriend, I love you, I wasn’t busy, and I assumed you would’ve had a long day, so I did something nice.” You smile slightly, “Of course you did. You’re too good to me.” “Just as good as you deserve. Now, sit.” he pulls out your chair for you and more or less forces you down into it.

A plate of (your favourite food) is put in front of you, and you grin up at Pablo. “Gracias, mi alma (thank you, my soul).” “De nada (you’re welcome).” “So how was training today?” you ask, looking at him as you both begin to eat. “Good, I think we’ll play well in the game on Wednesday. Speaking of, are you gonna be able to come?” “I wish, and I hope so, but I’d have to ask my boss to finish an hour early. And when she’s the one approving it, there’s a very small chance it’ll actually happen. But if I can’t be there in person, I’ll be secretly checking the score on my phone under my desk.” you smile weakly, you really are sick of your nightmare of a boss. Pablo frowns. “How come everyone else’s leave always gets approved, but never yours? How come she always gives you more work than everyone else? Does she not like you or something?” You sigh and shrug, “Honestly, your guess is as good as mine. It sure seems like she doesn’t like me, but I have no idea why. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything wrong or made a mistake around her.” Pablo’s frown only grows. “I don’t understand why you even still work there, why can’t you just find another job? Hell, why can’t you just quit? I’ve told you before, I make more money than I know what to do with, it would literally be no problem if you stopped working, let me support you, and moved into my apartment with me.”

“Because I’d feel bad.” “Well, that’s stupid. Why?” “Just because. You don’t need to be paying for all my shit on top of all yours.” Pablo rolls his eyes. “You aren't a particularly expensive person, Y/N. You rarely even let me buy you anything. You insist on paying for your portion of meals and always buy me far too much for Christmas and my birthday, etc.” “Yes, because I’m your girlfriend, not your financial burden.” “Spoiling the love of my life every once and a while is hardly a ‘financial burden.’ You’re being ridiculous.” “I don’t want to argue with you, long story short, the answer is no. It’s just one annoying boss, nothing I can’t handle. And I’m fine with working.” Pablo scoffs and the room is silent for a few moments. “Look, I only suggest it because I love you, okay? I want you to just be able to come to my games, home or away, and not have to know about it 2 weeks before so you can apply for leave, only for it to be denied by that demon of a boss you have. I hate that you’re always exhausted on all our dates because you’ve had a long week, that you fall asleep so early that we never have time to do anything… fun… at night anymore. I just want you to be free and happy. Por favor? Para mi? (please? for me?)”

You look at him for a moment before looking down at your plate again. “I’ll think about it.”

Pablo grinned again, he knew that was more a less an ‘Okay, fine, you win.’

“Gracias. Te amo, mi vida (thanks. i love you, my life).”

Later that night, you guys were cuddled up on your couch, Pablo was watching the movie that was on the TV screen, and you were on your phone. Finally, he looked down. “What are you doing?” he asks curiously. You look up at him and grin. “Sending in my resignation notice.” His eyes go wide and he sits upright, “You’re kidding.” “Nope.” “Oh my god!” he breaks out into yet another grin, pulling you into a proper hug. “Thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers into the skin of your neck. “Why are you thanking me? It should be the other way around, you’re the one who’s basically retiring me early.” you smile, and Pablo chuckles lightly. Eventually, Pablo calms down from his excitement a little and watches over your shoulder as you finish typing out the email. “I can’t believe I’m seriously about to do this.” you say quietly, your finger hovering over the ‘Send’ button. “Neither, but I promise, you won’t regret it.” he presses his lips to the top of your head. A few moments go by, and you still don’t press the button. “Are you gonna send it, or what?” “Pablo, I’m scared,” you whisper, looking up at him, and he can see the worry and uncertainty in your eyes. His expression and tone soften, “Why?” “I don’t know… I just am.” “You don’t have to do this right now, you know?” “I know, but I want to.” “Then send it.” “I can’t.” “Well, that’s kinda stupid.” You thrust the phone into his hand. “You do it.” “You’re sure?” You nod. Pablo hits send, and just like that, you’ve quit your job. You stare at the ‘Sent’ message for a moment before bursting into tears, burying your face into Pablo’s chest. He shushes you gently, rubbing your back and repeatedly kissing the top of your head, before eventually pulling your head away so he can look into your eyes. “Don’t cry, I hate it when you cry. What’s wrong?” he asks gently. “I- I’m just so happy. Thank you, Pablo. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” you sniff, speaking shakily through the tears. “Anything for you, mi niña preciosa (my precious girl).” he murmurs.

“I love you.” “I love you too, más que nada (more than anything).”

Jude Bellingham Reads Thirst Tweets About Himself

Jude Bellingham x Reader

The camera is set up, and Jude Bellingham sits comfortably on the couch, holding your phone. He looks at you, already suspicious.

“You really got me reading thirst tweets?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod excitedly. “Yup! And no backing out.”

Jude sighs but smirks. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He scrolls and immediately widens his eyes. “Nah, this one’s crazy.”

He clears his throat dramatically before reading, “‘Jude Bellingham could ruin my life, and I’d thank him.’”

His jaw drops. “RUIN your life?! What does that even mean?!” He looks at you for an explanation.

You just shrug. “They’re dedicated.”

Jude shakes his head and keeps scrolling. “Okay, next one.” He reads, “‘Jude Bellingham’s hands look big enough to carry me, and honestly, I’d let him.’”

He pauses, flexing his hands. “I mean… I do have big hands, but what do you mean, ‘carry you’? Where are we going?” He laughs, but his ears are turning red.

You burst out laughing. “Jude, you’re blushing.”

“I am NOT.” He clears his throat again and continues. “‘Jude Bellingham could look at me once, and I’d pass out on the spot.’” He leans closer to the camera. “Alright, let’s test that theory. If you’re watching this, don’t pass out.”

You roll your eyes. “Jude, stop flirting with the internet.”

He smirks. “Not my fault they started it.”

Scrolling again, he suddenly chokes on his own breath. “Oh, NO. I’m not reading that.”

You snatch the phone. “Oh, come on. What does it say?”

Jude groans, covering his face. “It says, ‘Jude Bellingham could call me a bad girl, and I’d forget my own name.’”

Your mouth drops open. “Oh my God.”

Jude stares at the camera in disbelief. “You lot need Jesus.”

You’re crying laughing. “Read one more!”

Jude sighs but scrolls. His eyes widen. “Oh, hell no.” He reads it anyway. “‘Jude Bellingham, if you see this, I will bark for you.’”

He drops the phone. “Nah. I’m done. You’re all unhinged.”

You’re wheezing at this point. “Regret doing this?”

Jude shakes his head, laughing. “One hundred percent.”

[TikTok ends – comments are wild]

Top Comment: “THE WAY HE SAID ‘YOU LOT NEED JESUS’ I’M SCREAMING 😭”

Second Comment: “‘Let’s test that theory’ JUDE PLEASE 😳”

Third Comment: “We broke him and I have no regrets.”

kenan yildiz fic?🫶🏼 part 2 of the recent mbyy

❦ - cut my hair.

summary:: your boyfriend is so distant to the point you’re convinced he doesn’t care

warnings:: NO HAPPY ENDING.

writers note:: i’m sorry for disappearing but mocks are the death of me! anyways sorry this took so long 😔😔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added!

You wish he would just say it.

That he doesn’t care. That this never meant anything. That you could leave and he wouldn’t even blink.

Because maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

Instead, Kenan just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you with that same unreadable expression. Like he knows what you’re thinking. Like he knows you’re trying to convince yourself that walking away is the right thing to do.

Maybe it is.

‘I can’t keep doing this,’ you say, voice quieter than you want it to be.

Kenan exhales, running a hand through his hair. ‘So don’t.’

Your stomach twists. That’s it? No argument, no apologies, just those two words, thrown out like they don’t matter. Like you don’t matter.

You shake your head, forcing a bitter laugh. ‘You make it look so easy.’

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything.

And maybe that’s the real problem.

Because you’ve spent so much time trying to read between the lines, waiting for something, anything, to prove that he feels this the way you do. But all you ever get is silence.

You take a shaky breath. ‘I changed for you, you know. Cut off pieces of myself just to fit into whatever space you had left.’

Kenan flinches. It’s subtle, barely there, but you catch it.

For the first time, you wonder if maybe he does care. If maybe this is hard for him, too. But even if it is, it’s not enough.

It never is.

So you force yourself to step back, ignoring the way your chest aches. ‘I won’t do it anymore.’

He stays quiet.

And this time, you don’t wait for an answer. You turn and leave, without looking back.

❦ - lottery.

summary:: reminiscing old memories with your boyfriend.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: istg i make these notes long asf just to prove im not an npc like my writing 😔. but it’s okay! anywho this fic is kinda odd bc i had to ask for reinforcements but enjoy it nonetheless! ALSO THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A WHOLE WEEK

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added!

Joao sat on the kitchen counter, flipping a coin absentmindedly as you were on the floor, legs crossed, sorting through a pile of old photos you had dug out during a lazy afternoon.

‘Look at this one,’ you said, holding up a photo of them at a carnival. Your laugh was light and carefree, and Joao couldn’t help but smile.

‘I remember that,’ he said, hopping off the counter to join you on the floor. He plucked the photo from your hand and studied it. ‘You made me win you that giant teddy bear, and it didn’t even fit in the car.’

You grinned. ‘That wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who refused to stop playing until you won it.’

He leaned back, bracing his arms behind him. ‘I wanted you to be happy.’

‘You always do,’ you said softly, glancing over at him. Your expression shifted into something more tender, like she was seeing him for the first time again.

Joao tilted his head, a small crease forming between his brows. ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ you smiled, shaking her head as you turned your attention back to the photos. ‘You just… you make me feel lucky.’

His hand brushed against yours as he grabbed another picture. ‘Lucky? You’re the one who changed my life.’

‘Come on,’ you teased, rolling her eyes. ‘You were already João Félix. You didn’t need me.’

‘Maybe not for football,’ he admitted, his voice dropping slightly, ‘but for everything else? Yeah, I did.’

Your laughter softened, and you shifted closer to him, leaning your head against his shoulder.

‘I’d still choose this,’ Joao said suddenly, breaking the silence.

‘Choose what?’

‘This,’ he said, motioning to the clutter of photos, the warm hum of music, the way they fit perfectly together even in the simplest of moments. ‘Us. No matter what, I’d choose this over everything.’

Your heart swelled as you looked up at him. ‘I’d choose this too,’ you whispered.

For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter; no cameras, no stadiums, no noise. Just the two of you, sitting on the floor, lost in memories and each other. Joao reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours as the music faded into the background.

‘Looks like we’ve already won,’ you said with a playful nudge, and Joao laughed, kissing the top of your head.

‘Yeah,’ he agreed, ‘we did.’

WEDDING

all images were taken from pinterest.

where he and reader met thanks to her brother's marriage to his cousin.

paring: joão félix X reader!

a/n: i really hope you like it because i loved the result 😭

requests are open | check here my masterlist

i don't think I've ever taken a shower so quickly in all my years of life, all because i woke up bizarrely late but it's not reason enough for me to leave the house without taking a bath. and i had to make a big effort to remember where i was going today, i only remembered that it was an important event but my mind busy with college can't remember everything.

but the post-it stuck to the fridge made me eat quickly and get to the car even faster. i completely forgot that today was reserved for my brother's bride, it's the day to help her choose her wedding dress and consequently the bridesmaids' dresses.

"i hope you're already arriving." the message she sent arrived on my cell phone a few seconds after i parked the car near the wedding dress atelier. my brother was with my cousins and some men i didn't know outside, which intrigued me. "what are you doing here?" i asked, approaching. "we'll try on the suits right after you guys." he replied and i nodded. "today is going to be a long day for you guys." i smiled and entered the place most loved by all brides. i hadn't even gone up the stairs when i heard laughter from the men outside "fabio, joão wants to be your brother-in-law." an unknown male voice shouted and more laughter was heard.

i found the comment funny even though i don't know who said it, much less who joão is. i just know that single life is really cool. even though i sometimes miss sleeping cuddled up with someone, but i don't think i have any intention of meeting anyone at my brother's wedding, unless  mr. destiny has other plans.

"finally, i thought you would never arrive." i was greeted by my mother opening the door to the salon reserved for brides. her hands promptly grabbed my cheeks. "long time no see, huh?" i joked about the fact that i had spent the entire afternoon at her house yesterday. my mother just stuck out her tongue as an answer and pulled me into the room. my sister-in-law was already trying on a beautiful dress like cindelera's. she looked at me through the reflection in the mirror.

"what do you think?" she asked me. i was speechless. carol was so beautiful in that dress, she really looked like a princess. "it's already my favorite." she smiled and i could see her eyes welling up. "it's mine too." she said, wiping away the tears that had started to form. "i can't believe I've barely arrived and i'm already leaving." the other bridesmaids in the room laughed and carol rolled her eyes. "no way. i'll try on some others to make sure of my choice."

i pretended to snort as i sat on the edge of the couch. there are so many women in the room, my mother, her mother, carol's friends and cousins. i can't even imagine how many bridesmaids she will have. but my brother and she deserve a wedding worthy of royalty.

fabio is two years older than me and we have always been best friends, he knows more about my life than my mother. and i remember perfectly when he introduced us to carol, she is the sister-in-law of anyone's dreams.

"carol, may i come in?" three knocks on the door distracted my attention. most likely one of the boys sitting downstairs wants to speak to the bride. "of course joão, my favorite cousin." joão, the boy from a few minutes ago. i felt something strange when she said that. i involuntarily adjusted my posture and started to fiddle with the necklace around my neck. the door opened slowly, but soon revealed a tall, smiling male figure with brown hair. his gaze went straight to me, since i, sitting on the edge of the sofa, am the first thing anyone who opens the door will see.

he continued on his way towards the bride and i didn't try to hide the fact that i was following him with my eyes, something that my mother noticed "carol's cousin, isn't he cute?" i turned towards her with my eyes slightly widened, she nudged me and motioned for me to turn toward joão again. he was about to leave, but his eyes met mine before his fingers touched the doorknob and my mother gently motioned with her fingers for him to come to her. "mãe." i muttered.

"fabio introduced you to his sister, joão?" she pointed in my direction. "he told me when she passed by us a few minutes ago, but we haven't been introduced." he smiled at me. "nice to meet you, joão!" he extended his hand to me and i shook it. "nice to meet you joão, i'm yn." He didn't stop smiling which made me uncomfortable, he was causing me a very strange feeling "we'll see you later, your brother asked me to go get something with him." he commented "but again, it was nice to meet you." i received a wink that made me disconnect from the outside world, i didn't even see when he opened the door and left and didn't even heard what my mother just said.

it took carol three hours to make sure that the dress she tried on when she arrived was the right one. and it took us another two hours to choose the bridesmaids' dresses. the boys who were waiting for their turn to try on their suits walked past us with tired faces, but i couldn't help but notice that joão was no longer there. i believe we will only see each other again on the wedding day.

two months later.

i don't know how i ended up in a chelsea match and still sitting almost next to the  players on the bench. in fact, i don't know why i accepted my brother's invitation, seriously. there we are, me and five other friends of his, in the middle of the excited fans of the english team.

but the urge to leave disappeared from my body when the players entered the field to warm up. on the screen appeared someone i had seen only once two months ago, joão, carol's cousin. i was surprised, he doesn't look like a football player. i swore he was a student on one of those super competitive courses. joão félix, chelsea's number 14 hasn't left my head since i met him and he is definitely the reason behind my presence here today, my brother commented that he won the tickets from someone.

something that was confirmed when the game ended and the fans began to empty the stadium, but my brothers and friends didn't move a muscle "aren't we leaving?" i asked my brother who denied "let's wait for joão." i swallowed hard and settled into the seat, admiring the view of the field and thinking about joão.

"are you really mad about the game, man?" i was taken out of my thoughts by my brother's voice, when i looked at him, joão was sitting behind him. i smiled simply at the player when he looked at me, he smiled back but there was disappointment written all over his face. chelsea drew with a team i didn't know and joão missed an incredible chance to score the tiebreaker. 

"let's go home. drink and forget about this game." one of my brother's friends said and joão put his hands on his own face. "i don't wanna" he said before taking a deep breath. i stood up with the intention of saying goodbye, i felt it was time to go. "it was nice spending the night here with you guys, but I'm going now." i got up from the bench with my coat wrapped around my arm. "how are you leaving?" my brother asked. "by bus." i answered and he nodded. "don't you want me to take you?" he asked and i quickly refused. "i can take you, it's too late for you to go alone." joão surprisingly offered to take me. he said this as he got up from the bench "great idea! joão is a great driver, you'll be fine." my brother also got up and patted me twice on the shoulder.

i nodded to joão, i hate going home alone at night. even if i go from here to who knows where, i'm completely uncomfortable being in a stranger's car but even more nervous because this stranger is the portuguese player.

we both said goodbye to the guys and i followed joão to the garage. we passed some players on the way and the portuguese guy said goodbye to everyone. but i have to say that i freaked out inside when we got to his car and he opened the  door for me. my gaze went from the door to him, a slight smile appeared on his face "thank you" the thanks came out almost like a whisper.iI watched in the rearview mirror as he walked behind the car and sat in the driver's seat. "where are we going?" he asked as he opened the gps on the car's dashboard. "do you know the address of my mother's house?" he nodded. "yes, i do. i go there with fabio a lot." i smiled. "you can drop me off there then. it's closer than dropping me off at home." he nodded, "but it's okay to drop you off at home if you want, i can go there. where is it?" he questioned "no need, i don't want to bother you! and anyway i would have to go to my mother's house tomorrow, you're already going to save me from having to take the subway." i laughed "are you sure?" i nodded and he put my mother's house address into the gps.

"now i understand why i never saw you at the parties that carol organizes." the car stopped at the red light a few seconds after we left the stadium. "why?" he looked at me while resting his head on the window. "because you must always be busy with games and practices." he smiled, a wide smile this time. "yeah, most of the time i arrive late at her events." i grimaced. "you'll never see me staying late at places, i'm a person who goes home very early." green light. "really, i've never seen you at the events and if i did, i would definitely remember, your face is not at all forgettable." i turned my head towards my window, embarrassed "i'll take that as a compliment." he tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. "it's a compliment."

I bit my lip after letting out a shy laugh "thank you." i thanked him awkwardly "it's a great time to say that when we met on the day of choosing the wedding clothes, i could hear someone say that you wanted my brother's brother-in-law." he laughed "i knew you heard, bruno almost grabbed a megaphone to be heard by the entire united kingdom." another red light, this time his hands went to his face "all this because i said a wow when you left."

"I liked knowing that i messed with you." i said before thinking "yeah, i was really surprised that i couldn't get it out of my head." i looked at him out of the corner of my eye "would you be disappointed if i told you that i have a boyfriend?" joão looked at me wide-eyed but i signaled for him to pay attention to the traffic, the cars in front of him had already moved. "do you have?" he became apprehensive "no, i'm just kidding." he chuckled as he placed his hand on his chin. i don't know where i got the courage to flirt like that.

my mother's house is relatively close to the blues house. we arrived quickly and i was a little disappointed, i admit. now that things were starting to happen. joão got out of the car with me and walked me to the door "thanks for the ride." i dared to kiss him on the cheek, his cheeks blushed and his gaze remained fixed on the floor for a few seconds "can we see each other again before the wedding?" he asked "yes, whenever you want." he gave me his cell phone so i could add my number and so i did "good night joão, thanks again." i put the key in the doorknob and saw the player slowly walking away "it was a pleasure! let me know when you need a ride."  he approached the car "bye, good night!" he honked at me before disappearing from my field of vision.

i walked into my house and nearly melted as i closed the door. "i think I'm going to get a new son-in-law." my mother appeared out of nowhere. "it was just a ride." she laughed at me. "today it's a ride, tomorrow a proposal." i just laughed, rolling my eyes. unfortunately, I just saw him  and i've already started counting the days until i see him again.

❦ - i knew you were trouble

summary:: you and kenans relationship is falling apart but you can’t help but love him amongst it all.

warnings:: angst

writers note:: i lowkey planned on finishing this series ages ago but i need to include kenan so here we are! and also a joao fic coming too from this series nd then i need to clear my inbox ! xx thank uu all for being so patient w me 😭

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if you wanna be added!

The bass reverberated through the club, low and steady, like the pulse in her ears as she watched him from across the room. Kenan leaned back against the bar, head tilted, an easy smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

He didn’t see her yet, or maybe he did, and he was pretending not to. That would be his style, wouldn’t it? To play with the tension like it was his own personal game, the stakes as unimportant to him as a casual flick of his wrist.

She knew better now. Too late, but she knew.

The first time they met, he was magnetic in a way she couldn’t quite explain. He didn’t have to try to be charming; it was effortless. His voice, low and smooth, carried promises that made her breath hitch without her even realizing it. He’d been trouble from the start, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Not then. Not until the shine faded and the jagged edges of his confidence started to cut.

Tonight, she thought, she’d walked in knowing exactly what she was walking into. She’d come here to end it. To look him in the eye, tell him she was done, and mean it. Yet now, standing there with the echo of his laughter cutting through the crowd, she faltered.

He turned. His gaze landed on her like he’d been waiting for her all along, and her stomach sank. That smile, infuriatingly self assured, spread wider, as though he already knew she wouldn’t follow through. He pushed away from the bar and crossed the room without hesitation, his stride slow but deliberate, like a hunter cornering his prey.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she said when he stopped in front of her. Her voice wavered, betraying her resolve.

Kenan tilted his head, studying her in that way he had that made her feel like he could see every thought she was trying to hide. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t be either,’ he said, his tone light, teasing. But there was a weight in his eyes that told her he wasn’t joking, not really.

She hated that he could do this. That he could stand there, so calm, so casual, while her chest burned with a thousand unsaid words. She hated that no matter how much she prepared herself, he always unraveled her in seconds.

‘You don’t even care, do you?’ she said, her voice sharper now. Anger was easier than the ache clawing at her chest. ‘You do what you want, say what you want, and then act surprised when everything falls apart.’

His expression didn’t change, but she saw the flicker of something in his eyes; guilt, maybe, or regret. ‘You’re wrong,’ he said, quietly this time. ‘I care more than you think.’

She didn’t believe him. Not anymore. But the way he reached for her hand, the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles, made her wonder if maybe she wanted to.

Maybe that was the real trouble; she didn’t want to let him go.

And he knew it.

❦ - hell n back

summary:: late night pasta, music, wine and your boyfriend. that’s all you need.

warnings:: none

writers note:: yet again another fic for this series i need to save yall from this joao fic drout bc wtf is happening where they at… this is one of many to come!! ALSO I FORGOT WHO THE DIV BELONGS TO BUT CREDS TO THEM!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana ; lmk if u wanna be added!

The music played low in the background, Joao’s playlist shuffling between smooth beats and soft melodies. He was in the kitchen, humming under his breath as he worked on his infamous late night pasta. You leaned against the counter, watching him with a mix of amusement and admiration.

‘You’re really taking this chef thing seriously,’ you teased, sipping on your glass of wine.

Joao glanced over his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Don’t act like you’re not about to ask for seconds.’

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny it. João wasn’t just good at football; somehow, he had the kitchen skills to match. Watching him like this, relaxed, playful, completely himself, reminded you how much you loved these simple moments with him.

‘You’re proud of yourself, huh?’ you asked as he plated the pasta, garnishing it with a dramatic flourish of parsley.

He slid the plate in front of you with a mock bow. ‘Chef João at your service.’

You burst out laughing. ‘You’re ridiculous.’

‘Ridiculously talented,’ he shot back, sitting down across from you.

The two of you ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the warmth of the food matching the easy comfort between you. Joao finally looked up, his eyes soft as they met yours.

‘You know,’ he said, twirling his fork, ‘I don’t think I ever told you how much I appreciate this.’

‘This?’ you asked, raising a brow. ‘The pasta? Because I’ll admit, it’s good.’

‘No,’ he said, chuckling. ‘I mean this. Us. You let me just… be. I don’t have to perform or prove anything when I’m with you. It’s like.’ He paused, searching for the words. ‘It’s like coming home.’

Your heart skipped a beat, and you set your fork down, meeting his gaze. ‘Joao, you don’t have to thank me for being here. That’s what we do, right? We take care of each other.’

He leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘You make it sound so simple.’

‘Because it is,’ you said, reaching across the table to take his hand. ‘I love you, Joao. All of you. Even when you overcook the pasta’

He gasped in mock offense. ‘You didn’t just say that.’

‘I did,’ you said, laughing as he shook his head in disbelief.

‘Fine,’ he said, squeezing your hand. ‘But just so you know, you’re my favorite person. Overcooked pasta and all.’

And in that moment, with the music playing and Joao smiling across the table, you felt it too, this was everything. Simple, steady, and enough.

darling i think you just killed me… ohhhh my lord

blue jeans, white shirt

pairing: joao felix x reader

warnings: angsty

preface: your ex bf is famous af and he forgot about u from the fame, or so u thought

i will love you till the end of time, i would wait a million years. promise you’ll remember that you’re mine. baby can you see through the tears?

when joão got transferred to chelsea you guys have been dating for a year but it was getting quite serious. he was shown as the new young left winger from portugal. he got his fame from being on chelsea but you knew him when he first joined benfica. you have been knowing him since you were a child so you know everything about him. his pet peeves, his favourite songs, his little quirks and that’s what he liked about you.

you were attentive and loving, you both always had a connection since you were both teenagers. the connection quickly turned to dust when he stopped being attentive to you. he would have events and he stopped inviting you, he stopped inviting you to games, he just ghosted you overall. his mom often calls you to see if you guys have spoken but you secretly hated it. he was your first love, your first body, your first kiss. you were shattered when you realized he wasn’t putting in his all anymore so it was safe to say you guys were done, you deletes his number, unfollowed him on instagram, blocked him on snapchat, deleted anything of him on your phone, you even stopped watching football.

you were back home in portugal for the summer and you were staying again your familys villa, not a single thought in your brain except for seeing your new boyfriend. your new boyfriend was caring and great to you, helped you get over joão. you know your mother was inviting some family friends over and you know it was going to be the félix family but joão stopped attending family functions all together because he was “too busy”. you got out of the shower and you were changing into your pjs so you could do your makeup and you heard the front door open, you assumed it was your boyfriend until you heard a familiar loud voice. your stomach dropped and you started breathing heavily, you haven’t seen him since he’s joined barcelona and it’s now the middle of august.

you gave yourself a pep talk and reminded yourself that he means nothing now and your boyfriend is on the way now. you called your boyfriend to see where he is and he picked up on the last couple of rings. “hey y/n baby, i’m sorry but i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight. work is just a lot right now” he says, your stomach dropped yet again. “okay baby. i love you” you say swallowing your panic. you got ready and just tried to go on about your day.

you looked gorgeous. you lost weight, done your hair differently, you were barely wearing makeup. you were wearing a beautiful short summer dress with your perfect manicured hands and toes. joão loved how feminine you were. you walked downstairs of the villa and everyone’s eyes were on you. mrs félix ran up to you and gave you a big kiss on your cheek, you smiled as you hugged everyone, except joão. you just gave him a friendly wave as he looked at you in awe.

you went through the dinner with funny stories of your younger self as well as joão, before you would’ve been missing him but now you feel nothing. “eu vou ao banheiro” (i’m going to the bathroom) everyone nods as you get up, your heels clicking on the ground as you make your way to the bathroom. “wow she’s beautiful..” joão’s mother said to your parents, she turns her head towards her son “why would you do that.. she’s perfect joão”

“não sei..” (i don’t know) “vá falar com ela” his mother whispers to him. joão gets up, making his way to the home he has spent multiple nights over as a child.. multiple family pictures including a photo of you and joão, he sighed and smiled to himself as he takes a photo of it, he hears a familiar clicking, he looks to his left to see you walking toward him, not even looking at him. joão’s heart ached as you walked by him without even looking at him. “y/n.. please..” he says, you stop in your tracks, but continue walking. he walks up to you and turns you around to face him, the teary eyed boy looks at you, he noticed your gaze wasn’t the same as before, it was a cold different gaze. broken, “why did you do that..” you said with no expression on your face. “i’m sorry..”

“but you aren’t.”

he looked defeated to say the least. “if you were sorry you wouldn’t have done what you did, you fell out of love with me, and it’s okay. i’ve accepted it. but the reason why you were okay with it at first was because you knew i was in love with you, but now you aren’t because i’m with someone who actually loves me. it’s time for you to accept it joão, it’ll never be the same.” your words came out like a knife to his chest, your eyes started to water. someone who was once your best friend was now nobody to you. he saw a side of you nobody as seen, but unfortunately you loved him more than he loved you. truth be told but joão never fell out of love with you.

you walked away a few tears falling down your soft cheeks, you turn around to see joão’s hands covering his face as he heaves, you’ve never seen him cry like this. ever. you wipe your tears as you go back to the table plastering a fake smile, your family not having a single clue in the world about what just happened. few minutes after joão comes to the living room looking normal. you both exchanged a weak smile, your heart ached as well as his.

months pass by, you broke up with your boyfriend, joão’s loan at barca ended, and it’s officially euros season. despite avoiding watching football because of joão, you decided to start watching with your father, but tonight you’re at a hotel in berlin, 10 minutes away from the stadium. you posted on your story the place you were at. drinking a glass of wine as you lay on your bed doing your work on your computer, it was close to 2 am, you start to shut everything off as you hear the storm hitting your hotel window, you pull the covers over your body until you heard banging at your front door. afraid but you got up to look at the peephole to see a soaking wet joão. you open the door as he looks at you with bloodshot eyes, he’d been crying. he brings you in a tight hug as you hug him back, he takes in your scent, you always smelt so good.

“what’s wrong j?”

“too much on my mind.” he says drained, you brought him in to sit on the couch, you open a can of his favourite beer as he smiles to you, “you remembered” you giggled, “okay come on let’s talk” you said

you found out that joão missed a penalty shot and he just feels so bad, you understand his concern so you let him stay the night, you both sleep on the opposite sides of the bed. you started mindlessly scrolling on your phone now that you were wide awake. “i can’t stop thinking about you.” joão faces you

“joão please-“

“no y/n- please listen to me. you are my soulmate, my everything. you’re the only person that gets me..” he says as he gets up, walking up to you. “how can i let go of you? you are so fucking beautiful. you have the most beautiful skin, most beautiful hair, and your voice sounds like honey. all i think about is you. ever since i saw you moved on my heart yearned for you. i forgot how amazing you were. i was stupid, all i thought about was my career but completely forgot why i was in it for, i wanted to make money for you. but i got caught up with everything. please y/n.. i can’t lose you..” he says as he gets on his knees, hugging your body as he places kisses all over your body, “please y/n.. say something.” he says as he places a kiss on your cheeks, as well as briefly placing a kiss on your lips. you were crying as well as he was. you wanted to hug him and kiss him to let him know that everything will be okay.

“no- joão. please stop. it’s ruined. you ruined it. it can’t be fixed” you say as you pushed him off, “before i would’ve taken you back in a heartbeat. believe me. but now you don’t deserve me. i think you should leave” you held back your tears

he nodded, defeated. making his way to the door, he opened the door as he looked back at your teary eyes. “i would wait a million years for you. eu te amo” he walked out, your heart aching.

❦ - bound 2.

summary:: quiet night with your boyfriend.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: starting this off by saying don’t even ask why i’m posting sm recently i’ve been deadass been using this as a crashout prevention so i’ve been writing my mind off issues!! so that’s a bit tmi but yk.. anyways enjoy this! this is also really similar to the hector fic so ignore that!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @cherryloveshs ; lmk if u wanna be added!

The moonlight poured through the window of their small Barcelona apartment, its silvery glow casting long shadows on the walls. Alejandro lay sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. His shirt clung to his chest, damp from the shower he’d taken minutes ago. You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him, a smile tugging at your lips. Even in the stillness, he radiated energy, an effortless charm that made your chest feel too tight and your head too light.

‘You’re staring again,’ he teased without looking up, his voice low and smooth.

‘Can’t help it,’ you shot back, biting your bottom lip. ‘You’re kind of hard to look away from.’

Finally, Alejandro put his phone down and gave you his full attention. His brown eyes glimmered with amusement as they traced your figure, lingering on the oversized shirt you’d stolen from his closet. The sight of you, comfortable, completely at home in his space, made his heart ache in the best way.

‘Come here,’ he said, his voice soft now, almost a whisper. It wasn’t a request. It never really was.

You crossed the room, slow, like you were savoring the moment. When you reached him, he tugged you gently onto his lap. His hands found your waist, warm and familiar, like they belonged there. The world outside didn’t exist. It was just you, him, and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

‘You remember when we first met?’ he asked, his tone suddenly nostalgic. ‘I was such a mess.’

‘You weren’t a mess,’ you countered, running a hand through his damp hair. ‘You were just… figuring things out.’

He chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. ‘You gave me a reason to figure it out. I was so lost back then, and then you showed up like…’ He paused, searching for the words. ‘Like a light, you know? Something steady. Something I could hold onto.’

Your throat tightened, his words sinking deep. You cupped his face in your hands, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. ‘You don’t give yourself enough credit, Ale. You’ve always been this, this brilliant, magnetic, unstoppable thing. I just made sure you saw it.’

He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours, a kiss that was soft and slow, full of things neither of you needed to say. When you finally pulled back, his eyes burned into yours, raw and unguarded.

‘You’re my home,’ he murmured. ‘You know that, right?’

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the city buzzing faintly outside. No matter what the world threw at you, you had this. You had him. And he had you. Bound together, unshakable.

❦ - the alchemy

summary:: jamal wins bundesliga with his girl by his side.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: expect this series to be done today!! bc these are concerningly easy to write esp when you have the idea clear in your mind! i was gonna make it that he won ucl as per @hearts4musiala request but i’m a culer so that doesn’t work w me.. 😔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana ; lmk if u wanna be added !!

The stadium was alive with chaos, golden confetti falling like a storm, the roar of fans echoing through the Allianz Arena. Jamal Musiala stood in the middle of it all, his hands clutching the Bundesliga trophy, the weight of it almost surreal. This moment had been everything he’d worked for, dreamed of, but somehow it felt even better because you were here.

You watched him from the sidelines, beaming, your chest swelling with pride. He’d worked so hard for this. You’d seen every late night, every self-doubt he barely let himself voice, and every time he pushed himself beyond what you thought was possible. Now, as he stood at the center of glory, you could see it in his eyes, the quiet disbelief, the golden glow of triumph.

He found you instantly in the crowd. His eyes softened in the way they always did when he looked at you, like you were the only thing grounding him in the chaos. Without thinking, you pushed through the barriers, weaving past teammates and staff who barely noticed your presence in the delirium of celebration.

When you reached him, Jamal didn’t say a word. He pulled you in, one hand still clutching the trophy while the other found your waist, holding you tightly against him. His forehead fell to yours, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, the noise of the world fading into the background.

‘You did it,’ you whispered, your voice catching.

‘We did it,’ he murmured back, his voice low and soft.

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill. ‘This was all you.’

He laughed under his breath, pressing a kiss to your temple. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you.’

You knew he meant it. The nights he’d called you after a bad game, the moments he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders; you’d been there. But this wasn’t about you. It was about him, about the magic he created every time he stepped onto the pitch.

‘Proud of you, Jam,’ you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

His smile grew, but there was something else in his eyes, something tender and unspoken. ‘Feels like alchemy, doesn’t it?’ he said.

You blinked at him, confused.

‘All the doubt, the pain; turning it into this,’ he explained, lifting the trophy slightly. ‘It’s like gold. It’s like… us.’

Your chest ached at the way he said it. At how easily he compared this golden moment to the love you’d built together.

You kissed him then, soft and fleeting, the kind of kiss that didn’t need words. The world cheered around you, but Jamal only kissed you back, as if this was the real win of the night.

And maybe it was.

❦ - ivy.

summary:: you’re in love with gavi, and loves you too, but the distance is breaking you.

warnings:: angst??

writers note:: WHY AM I LOWKEY COOKING. fics under 500 words are so easy like why’d i write this in like half an hour im getting somewhere 😍. ALSO DIV CREDS TO RIGHTFUL OWNER I JS FORGOT WHO IT BELONGS TO

tags:: @barcapix ; lmk if u wanna be added

There’s an ache in your chest, the kind you can’t name. The kind that only seems to surface when Gavi’s beside you.

It’s not that you don’t love him; you do. More than you probably should. But tonight, the silence feels heavier, the air charged with things neither of you dare to say.

He’s sprawled across the couch, hair messy from your fingers earlier. The game’s on in the background, but neither of you are watching. You’re tucked into his side, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

‘I wish it didn’t feel like this sometimes,’ you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gavi’s fingers pause where they’ve been tracing lazy circles on your arm. ‘Like what?’

You pull back slightly to meet his eyes, and the question hangs between you. The weight of it, the truth of it.

‘Like we’re holding on too tight.’

His face softens, but there’s a flicker of something else there, too; fear, maybe, or recognition. ‘You’re all I’ve got,’ he says, so simply it makes your chest hurt.

The thing is, you believe him. And maybe that’s why it feels like this sometimes, like you’re tethered to each other by something too fragile to last. You love him so much it terrifies you, and some part of you knows he feels the same. But love like this,it burns too hot. Leaves scars.

‘We’re okay,’ he says, his voice steady now. ‘Aren’t we?’

You hesitate for a moment too long, and his hand tightens on your arm. ‘Tell me we’re okay,’ he pleads, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, because the truth is you don’t know how to live without him anymore. Because even when it hurts, he’s still the only person you want to come home to.

‘We’re okay,’ you say softly, and the relief in his expression almost breaks you.

He leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead, and pulls you closer. ‘I don’t care if we’re a mess,’ he murmurs. ‘As long as you’re mine.’

And for now, it’s enough.

Because even if this love isn’t perfect, it’s yours. And even if it hurts, it’s home.

❦ - kiss of life

summary:: 5am, extremely rainy morning in madrid except your boyfriend, jude thought bringing an umbrella was unnecessary.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: so this is the second fic of the song x player blurbs and i lowkey love writing these do you see me cooking bro… these are sm easier esp w my mocks starting soon so i’ll try and get a few produced !!

tags: @barcapix

The rain started halfway through the walk home. You weren’t expecting it, of course, but Jude had insisted you’d ‘be fine without an umbrella.’ Now, the two of you were drenched, trainers squeaking against the pavement as you half-jogged through the empty streets.

‘You’re such an idiot,’ you muttered, wiping water off your face.

Jude just laughed, his hair plastered to his forehead. ‘C’mon, it’s not that bad.’

‘It’s freezing!’ you shot back, pulling his hoodie tighter around you. It was far too big for you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, but at least it was warm, though it now smelled like wet fabric and regret.

Jude stopped suddenly under the awning of a closed café, catching your wrist to pull you out of the rain. ‘Alright, drama queen,’ he said, grinning. ‘Let’s take a break before you blame me for catching pneumonia.’

‘You’d deserve it,’ you huffed, crossing your arms.

His grin widened. ‘You’d still take care of me, though.’

You gave him a pointed look, but he was right. You always did.

Leaning back against the brick wall, he tilted his head, watching you quietly for a moment. ‘You know, you look kinda cute like this.’

‘Like what? A drowned rat?’

Jude chuckled, shaking his head. ‘No. Just… you. You’re always cute.’

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. ‘Don’t think flattery’s gonna stop me from yelling at you when we get home.’

‘Noted,’ he said, stepping closer. His hands slid into the pockets of the hoodie you were wearing, tugging you toward him. ‘But for now, let me enjoy this.’

You raised an eyebrow. ‘Enjoy what?’

‘This,’ he said simply, dropping his forehead against yours. His voice was softer now, almost drowned out by the rain. ‘You. Us. Moments like this.’

For a second, the cold didn’t matter. The rain didn’t matter. It was just Jude, his eyes on you, his touch steady, his presence enough to make the world blur around you.

‘You’re lucky you’re cute,’ you murmured, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He smiled against your mouth. ‘I know.’

And as the rain fell, you let yourself get lost in him, knowing he was your safe place as much as you were his.

❦ - moonlight

summary:: it’s midnight in barcelona after the barcelona copa del rey celebrations after party and you and your lover are on the balcony, enjoying life.

warnings:: none

writers note :: so i’m gonna start a series of blurbs based off songs so lmk if u want any players based on any songs. also in my original version hector was smoking a cigarette but i realised its a bit much so i removed it 😔😔.

tags: @barcapix ; lmk if u wanna be added

The moonlight turns everything silver, but it’s the way Hector looks at you that makes the night feel magical. The two of you sit on the balcony, a half empty wine bottle between you. Below, the city hums quietly, but up here, it’s just the two of you.

Hector leans back in his chair. His shirt is undone at the collar, sleeves rolled up, the sharpness of his usual demeanor softened by the glow of the night. He glances at you, smirking. ‘You’ve been staring at me for a while now.’

You scoff, raising your glass. ‘Maybe you’re just nice to look at.’

He laughs, the sound low and warm. ‘Careful, cariño. Keep saying things like that, and I might get used to it.’

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. Nights like this; quiet, intimate, unhurried, feel like a dream. ‘This doesn’t feel real sometimes,’ you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

‘What doesn’t?’ he asks, looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

‘This.’ You gesture vaguely to the balcony, the moonlight, the way he’s looking at you. ‘Us. It’s too perfect.’

Hector leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up.’

You laugh softly, your cheeks warming. Before you can respond, he stands and holds out a hand to you. ‘Come here.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Dancing’ he says, his lips curving into a grin. ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared.’

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. There’s no music, just the faint hum of the city, but he doesn’t seem to care. His arm slips around your waist as he starts to sway, guiding you effortlessly.

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you say, resting your hands on his shoulders.

‘Maybe,’ he replies, pulling you closer. ‘But I’m yours.’

The world feels smaller now, reduced to the warmth of his hand on your back and the steady rhythm of his breath. You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat calming and steady.

‘You know,’ he murmurs, his voice soft, ‘you’re the only one who gets to see me like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like I’m just a man. Not a ghost, not a name people fear. Just me.’

You look up at him, brushing your fingers against his jaw. ‘You’ve always been just you, Hector. That’s why I love you.’

His lips find yours, the kiss slow and grounding, like a promise sealed under the moonlight.

‘Don’t let go,’ you whisper.

‘Never,’ he says, his arms tightening around you. And in that moment, you believe him.

and all of a sudden i’m in love w franco 1000x more than i was before??

Mi vida | FC43 x Reader

pairing . . . franco colapinto x rbr!driver!reader

summary . . . What's better than one chaotic F1 driver? Two! And that's the story of how you got together with your boyfriend, Franco

request . . . no!!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none! story set few days before monza! cringe-ish (??) dialogue at the end?

faceclaim . . . girls from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . woohoo!! finally wrote a smau again and its for my boy franco!!! kinda short but yeah i made franco and y/n gen z pr nightmares!! hope yall enjoy it <3

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1, yourbsf and 2.3M others

yourusername look at my driver dawg he's losing this race Tagged: francolapinto

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maxverstappen1 he's in a williams

yourusername and?

maxverstappen1 him losing shouldn't be a surprise

francolapinto 😔

yourusername MAX DONT BULLY HIM

maxverstappen1 ill make sure to tell him sorry when i lap him

francolapinto what did i ever do to you max

maxverstappen1 say lewis is your idol

username1 i live for the rbr teammates and franco fighting

username2 raw. next question

username3 girl went to f1 and became a whole new person (cough franco terroriser cough)

yourusername i need to put him in his place, I AM the one with the redbull seat not him

username3 Y/NRPLIED HOLY SHIT

username4 praying for their pr managers

username5 i just know they made max's life a living hell

username6 i'm shaking for the interviews because i know y/n and franco will be menaces

username7 franco's f2 interviews and y/n's interviews now scream 'i will destroy your life'

username8 woah

username9 y/n please post more y/n

francolapinto who's that handsome man

yourusername me

francolapinto you can't be this beautiful

yourusername wow okay tell that to your next girlfriend because WERE DONE

francolapinto dont break up with me before my first f1 race ill ram you into the wall

yourusername ill crash in fp1

francolapinto noo mi vida youre so sexy pls dont die haha

yourusername forgiven 😊

username10 are we just going to ignore them breaking up in a comment section

username11 that happens like thrice every day just ignore them

username12 man i love them

username13 goats of f1 frrr

username14 theyre so iconic being the first couple in f1

username15 meow

username16 real

username17 screaming crying throwing up

username18 manifesting franco ends up in the points

username19 what about y/n??

username18 queen always ends up in the points

username19 mb mb

username20 franco calling her 'mi vida' MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHIT

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, bizarrap and 1.1M others

francolapinto life is hard (p12 in my first race) but at least mi vida got p8! and we did the track walk together 😊🫶 Tagged: yourusername

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username21 i REFUSE to believe franco typed that caption

username22 FRRR like its too innocent and peaceful

username23 their pr managers took over

username24 HOW IS HE SO PRETTYYYY

username25 my kind of love frrr

username26 no.1 couple argument closed

username27 sigh i wish i was a wag

alex_albon photo credits?

yourusername up my ass

francolapinto no mi vida only i can see up your ass

yourusername what he said

alex_albon tmi....

username28 theyre back!!!!

username29 i live for their chaos

username30 got me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be her

bizarrap ayyy ¿cuándo vas a hacer que nos veamos? (ayyy when are you going to make us meet?)

francolapinto pronto pronto (soon soon)

bizarrap dame una fecha exacta hermano (give me an exact date bro)

francolapinto cuando vienes al gran premio (when you come to the grand prix)

bizarrap vale vale (okay okay)

username32 I SEE THE AESTHETIC VISION FRANCO

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or franco

username35 holy shit hes gorgeous

username36 came here for franco stayed for y/n

yourusername woah youre so hot

francolapinto youre hotter

yourusername nahhh youre way hotter

francolapinto kiss me if im wrong but im hotter

yourusername then i wont kiss you because youre hotter

francolapinto fuck i didnt think of that

yourusername ill still kiss you just come over to my driver room

francolapinto 🏃🏃

maxverstappen1 should i be worried or....?

yourusername mind your business max

maxverstappen1 i'm the one who's going to here those disgusting noises not you

yourusername too bad

alex_albon i feel like i should be grateful its not happening in williams

francolapinto im here mi vida where are you i cant see you

yourusername im right here in the room??

maxverstappen1 WHAT IS FRANCO DOING IN MY ROOM

francolapinto shit wrong room

yourusername hurry up franco

francolapinto On my way!

maxverstappen1 let me leave the garage first

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP FRANCO GOING TO MAX'S ROOM???

username39 did max just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

yourusername

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1, bizarrap and 2.8M others

yourusername haters wish they were on our level fr Tagged: francolapinto

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username41 if being in a parasocial relationship with them was a crime id be executed

username42 THE PICS??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME???

username43 how are they both so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED THIS SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP not the matching glasses

username47 need a boyfriend who will take me on bike rides while i wear my redbull helmet and he wears his williams helmet

francolapinto i dont want to see my beautiful face i want to see YOUR beautiful face

yourusername but youre so pretty how can i not put your face more than mine

francolapinto mi vida your face isnt even on there

yourusername yes it is

francolapinto its covered by that ugly helmet

redbullracing 🤨

francolapinto this one is ugly i like her own customised helmet

yourusername aww amor 🫶 i love your helmet and i love you

francolapinto i love you more

yourusername no i love you more

francolapinto no

alex_albon if you continue with this sappy stuff ill vomit

yourusername okay 'goodmorning baby'

alex_albon SHUT UP

yourusername oi francolapinto we found his weak spot

francolapinto lets get ready to terrorise him

yourusername bet

username48 if they need a third im always available

username49 i want to see mother and father but theyre more like mommy and daddy

username50 erm

username51 if my bf aint like this ion want him

alex_albon ill admit this is actually cute

yourusername thank you!!

francolapinto we're not cute we're hot

yourusername we're both tho

francolapinto true

alex_albon why'd you have to ruin such a beautiful and innocent moment

francolapinto life

yourusername WORDS 🗣️ 💯🙏❗

username52 legit can't decide who's better looking

username53 oh how i need this more than oxygen

maxverstappen1 franco doesn't how to play padel

yourusername he beat me

maxverstappen1 anyone can beat you

francolapinto don't bully her like that

maxverstappen1 or what

francolapinto brazil 2018 pt2

maxverstappen1 DONT YOU DARE

yourusername ok max thats it go stare lovingly at charles or idk

maxverstappen1 ???

francolapinto we all know max dont worry

maxverstappen1 ??????

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 man i need me a francoyn relationship

username56 did they just confirm lestappen?!?!??!?!

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

bizarrap ah so youre the girlfriend?

yourusername yes yes i am

bizarrap y'know i cheer for you and not franco because you get higher places

yourusername im flattered 😊

francolapinto this is a betrayal you should be cheering for ME only

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will y/n post more y/n sigh

francolapinto how are you so gorgeous

yourusername i should be asking YOU that

francolapinto mi vida you are the prettiest girl i have ever seen in my life and you call ME gorgeous?

yourusername fuck yes

francolapinto i love you

yourusername love you more

williamsracing

liked by francolapinto, yourusername, alex_albon and 1.3M others

williamsracing can you spot the odd one out? Tagged: francolapinto, yourusername

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username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 they haven't commented yet???

username64 ikk it's so weird

username65 they usually hop on after like 6 secs

username66 its not a want its a NEED

username67 MILF = man i love franco (and y/n)

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

redbullracing don't go stealing around our drivers

williamsracing im just the admin 😔

redbullracing me too 😔

username71 driverS????

redbullracing that was typo

username72 IS FRANCO GOING TO REDBULL??????

username73 redbull admin x williams admin

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of franco and y/n is concerning

username76 WHERE ARE THEYYYYYY

francolapinto add more photos of mi vida i want to see her beautiful face

yourusername i want to see YOUR beautiful race

francolapinto running

username77 there they are

maxverstappen1 admin why now i have to hear them make out for the next 3 hours

williamsracing sorry?

username78 3 HOURS???

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

yourusername shit where's franco i want to see his face

williamsracing we want to see YOUR face

yourusername oh...😊 admin you make me blush

francolapinto admin?

williamsracing im sorry pls dont kill me

francolapinto i wont just because you take photos of me for mi vida

williamsracing i love you y/n

yourusername love you too admin

yourusername and you too franco

francolapinto love you more mi vidaaa

francolapinto

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, bizarrap and 1.1M others

francolapinto to mi vida, the love of my life, happy anniversary to us and i love you forever Tagged: yourusername

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username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'forever and always'

username84 'mi vida' OKAY BRO BYE IM LEAVING THIS EARTH

username85 legit fairytale vibes

username86 imagine being this in love

bizarrap ¡enhorabuena a los dos! ¡que sean muchos más! (congratulations to you two! here's to many more!)

francolapinto gracias hermano, lo aprecio (thanks bro, i appreciate it)

yourusername gracias!! (thank you)

username87 the caption is from a song i refuse to belive franco wrote it

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN.

username89 poetry fr

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 alex play 'that should be me' by justin bieber

alex_albon congrats to you two! least favourite couple i know!

francolapinto thank you alex!

yourusername thank you!!!

alex_albon did you just ignore my statement

yourusername yes we chose to ignore it

username93 this is the kind of love ppl write books about

username94 STOP NOT THEM CONGRATULATING EACH OTHER ON THE RADIO IN THE LAST RACE

username95 if they break up then love isnt real

maxverstappen1 you two deserve it! take care of my little sister francito

yourusername MAX STOP

francolapinto will do

yourusername i love my life

francolapinto and i love you

username96 i just know they are each other's ride or dies

username97 where to buy a franco asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love

username99 im waiting for the fics

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet

yourusername i love you so much, and ive did since forever. you are everything to me, i could never let you go. you deserve everything, mi amor

francolapinto youre my everything too, and im keeping you forever, no takebacks. if I deserve the everything, it’s only because you’re MY everything, mi vida. every star, every light, it all reminds me of you. te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir (I love you more than words can say)

yourusername STOP IM GOING TO CRY 🫶🥹 I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH

francolapinto I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVERYTHING MI VIDA

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

fuck racism .

I didn’t watch the Barca game last night nor log onto Twitter so I had no idea what went on apart from notifications on my phone about the results

I really don’t know how many times we are going to keep circling back to this racism conversation. Racism should have no place in football or in life ever. The way this continues to be so rampant amongst Spanish fans in this case is so disgusting and atp im convinced enough that the La Liga football associates encourage this shit because just how many times has this incident occurred

I hope you racist fucks have a horrible year !!

pls guys send him some love and encouragement in his comments if you can

i am in love w this and you ofc and oh my fuck good lord i’m shaking crying throwing up you’re a mastermind idk how you can glaze my fics when you produce THIS omds the talent you hold is insane messi who??? this is so cute i am gagged how on earth. gimme atleast a fraction of your talent im begging you’re so cutesy. i lit explode whenever you post hello

hi! could you write smth fluffy for marc bernal? like a cuddling kissing session

✮ Serenity - Marc Bernal

marc bernal x fem!reader

sy: a small wind down after a hectic night is just what both of you needed.

a/n: i feel like this was a little repetitive idk but im SLOWLY getting through the reqs 🙂‍↕️

warnings: lots of kisses (?)

it was a late evening in barcelona, the streetlights flickering on in preparation for the idle darkness that followed. you and marc went out for dinner with friends pau and idalete, a chaotic but refined event.

marc unlocks the front door, as you follow him inside. the warmth of your home steadies your composure, such a vast contrast to the heat of the night.

“they sure know how to keep us out all night huh?” you exhale slowly. your ankles are bare with red scratches, a heavy relief leaving your mouth when you unravel your heels off.

“they sure do,” marc responded, slipping his own shoes off and taking yours in his grasp to stash away. “well this is only the first, they wanna see us next saturday too.”

“don’t even get me started on next week,” you sighed as you give your arms a relieving stretch. you propel yourself forward, your limbs sluggish from the nights havoc. the exhaustion sits oppressively on your eyelids, an inevitable yawn daunting past your lips.

marc quickly catches up to you, even lazily intertwining his hands with yours to make it upstairs. even when walking up the stairs, he refused to let go of your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles.

when you open your bedroom door, the crisp air hits you like a fan, almost sending you tumbling back at the shock of how chilly it was. the door clicked shut and marc turned to you, his hands hovering over the small of your back as he seized the already finite space between you.

“you looked beautiful tonight,” he murmured against the cool skin of your neck, where he planted a few dozen kisses. each one felt like a sting—burning and feverish.

you smiled, resting your palms on his chest. “you didn’t look to bad yourself, chico,” you complimented, fingers brushing the lapel of his suit jacket. “but i think you’ll look even better out of this.”

his grin was soft and playful, but his movements slow and deliberate. he let the jacket slip from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

swiftly, he moved behind you, his hands trailing along your back to seek the zipper of your dress. upon finding it, he delicately eased the fabric from your shoulders, then moved to draw it down as it pooled at your feet.

marc’s fingertips brushed along your arms, your back, your neck, as if relishing every inch—anywhere he could feel the pulse beneath your skin.

“eres tan perfecta,” he mutters whilst pressing a tender kiss on the back of your neck, “i could stare at you forever.”

you turn to face him, cheeks glowing a sanguine red. your fingers make quick work to the buttons of his shirt, the silky material becoming less of a distraction when you reach up and mould your lips against his again.

marc involuntary gasps, the sound low and husky in his throat. you take the opportunity to free him of the rest of his clothes, as they join the heap below.

the sound of the fabric slipping away, the weight of his body drawing closer—it all feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

before things progressed, marc pulled back slightly, reaching for his oversized tee on the dresser. with a heartening smile, he gently pulled it over your head, letting the fabric cascade down your body before slipping into his pajama pants.

the sight of him, so casually comfortable yet undeniably attractive, makes you pull him back toward you.

your lips magnate back together, only this time with a deeper urgency and desire. his hands continue to roam the curves of your body, his molten touch igniting sparks along your skin.

an innocent groan escapes your lips, as his kisses become more fervent, his lips moving from your mouth to your jaw, then to the sensitive spot below your ear.

marc knew your weaknesses, your guilty pleasures and studied your body like a map. he never needed direction, or guidance—it was all second nature to him.

goosebumps prick along your skin as you shiver at the sensation. your hands tangle in the loose threads of his hair as you tilt your head back to provide him better access.

effortlessly, marc guided you backwards onto your bed; the soft mattress welcoming you with plush ease. he towered over you smirkingly, his hands braced either side as he connects his lips with yours for a third time.

“i wish you could see yourself how i see you. then you’d really understand how irresistible you are to me,” he mumbled in between kisses.

you both couldn’t get enough of eachother, not like tonight. whether it was because of the intoxicating mix of exhaustion that made your brain mush, or that you simply craved the love he gave.

either way, you were lost in it. and so was he.

as marc subconsciously lowers himself closer to your body, the space between you grows smaller, almost nonexistent. your synchronised kisses grow slower, softer but no less intense.

you cup the sides of his face, your thumbs running across his cheekbones. when your lips part and your tongues eventually collide, it sends violent tremors coursing through your body.

you can’t deny but feel like your losing yourself in him—and you don’t want to be found.

but eventually, the passion ebbs into something softer. marc shifts, pulling you into his embrace as your body instinctively curls into his.

he lies back against the pillows, as you similarly nestle against his chest; you couldn’t resist littering gentle pecks all over his tanned skin.

for a while, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only with the intricate sounds of your breathing and the warmth of his body against yours. your legs tangle instinctively, fitting together in a way that feels effortless yet natural.

you lift your head slightly, lips parting to speak. “i don’t ever wanna move, can we just stay like this forever?”

marc looked down, his lips curving into an affectionate smile. “we can stay like this for however long you want, i’d do anything for you.”

“then how about you call in sick tomorrow for training—stay with me for a few more hours?” you playfully laugh, with a tinge of seriousness.

“if that’s what you really want,” he nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “then i’ll make it happen.”

with that, he reaches over, tugging the blanket higher around you both. his fingers trace idle patterns along your back, not for any particular reason but simply because he can.

you close your eyes, nuzzling into his neck, “goodnight mi amor, te amo.”

“goodnight princsea, yo también te amo,” he whispers, brushing one last kiss on your temple.

the city’s bustling nightlife faded into a distant hum and replaced with the soothing rhythm of marc’s breathing. sleep pulls you both under, but even in the quiet darkness, you can feel the love tethering you together.

i wanna yap, my stpumach hurts and idk how to spell that word so ill just leave it how it is, also neymar jrjr might have a crush on my sister?? i thought we was friends but that ho was tryna get to my sister. hmm what else... oh yes i might be getting sambas here soon!! my parents told me they'd take me to go get them for Christmas but they're liars 💔 so it's all in due time. omg i love that song, joshua bassett slander was so stupid like goddamn take your washed brain somewhere far from me you cunt. also i did a face mask and im so glowy hehe wait omg should i confront neymar jrjr on sunday??? tf do i say, 'yo so there's a rumor floating around that you like my sister, is that true ho?' 'yes' '...' LIKE WTF DO YOU SAY AFTER THAT?? oh my god i just remembered when we were both in middle school this chick named allison liked him and told me to ask for his number and he REJECTED IT. and i had to run away like an idiot and i couldn't sleep without it popping up in my brain making me want to kms, but tbf he didn't reject me he rejected her thru me..? aye yi yi anyways im going to sleep now buhbye MWAH

i love how my inbox is full of yap and uhm what an interesting day!! neymar jrjr needs to get his act together BUT ARENT YOU LIKE 3 YEARS OLDER THAN HIM??? okay cougar… but like he’s also like 2 years older than your sister so atp i think you should just be lesbian again bc if you don’t make a move on dom then you’ll lit suffer. i hope him and ariya work out ig??

didn't see that from before but youre a TIFOSI?? i am officially in love with you. we are getting married. final decision

oh say less bbg. 😏

YES IM A TIFOSI - ALWAYS!! we’re meant to be 😍

STOP YOUR ACC AESTHETIC IS SO CUTE I LOVE ITTTTTTT AND I READ SOME OF YOUR FICS (from eve's reblogs <3) AND THEY ATEEEEE

THANK YOUUU, YOURE SO SWEET HELLO?? I LOVE YOUR FICS TOO YOU GUYS ARE ACTUALLY AMAZING??

where’s man going

SOOOO YK WHO IT IS BBG BUTT maybe like jude x reader where shes an influencer for adidas and her and jude have to do a COLLAB FOr the brand and stuff i trust ur imagination❤️❤️

❦ - all eyes on us.

summary:: you’re a famous influencer who’s been paired up with jude for adidas pr.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: i love this hello? i love you babe this is such a yummy request i love writing this!! 😍 also i’ve clocked that i write sm in my writers note so uhm anywho this is my first jude fic so i hope my jude girlies like it!! btw this is my first time trying this style of writing ig so tell me if it’s good xx

word count:: 2,708

You never minded the fast paced world of being an influencer. You’d built your brand around effortless style and relatable charm, snagging deals with top-tier companies like Adidas. Campaigns like this were nothing new to you - until Jude entered the picture.

He was charming, no doubt. Tall, confident, and with a way of making everyone in the room laugh, he had that kind of natural magnetism that couldn’t be taught. From the moment he walked into the studio, you felt the shift in the air.

But it wasn’t just his presence that threw you off, it was how easy he made everything look, even while you were secretly trying not to embarrass yourself.

You both stood under the spotlight for your first set of shots. The creative director had explained the vibe they were going for: young, edgy, and fun. This meant capturing moments of banter, mock rivalry, and flirtation.

‘I’m not used to being outshined,’ you muttered to Jude as the photographer adjusted their camera.

He leaned down slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll let you win this one.’

The nerve of him.

‘Alright, Jude, throw your arm around her shoulder,’ the photographer instructed.

You felt the weight of his arm drape across you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. The warmth of his skin through the fabric of your hoodie was distracting; almost too distracting.

‘Now laugh, like he just said something funny,’ the photographer added.

Jude didn’t miss a beat. ‘I didn’t realize fake laughing was part of your influencer requirements,’ he teased under his breath.

You tilted your head back and laughed anyway, your genuine amusement mixing with the forced effort.

The real chaos started after the shoot. Adidas had planned a tiktok segment where you and Jude would compete in challenges to promote the campaign.

The first challenge was simple: a lip-sync duet to a viral audio clip. Jude was awful at keeping up, missing half the words and breaking into laughter when he saw your exaggerated expressions.

‘Do you even know how tiktok works?’ you asked, barely able to hold back your laughter.

‘Not really,’ he admitted, grinning. ‘I’m more of a football guy, remember?’

‘Clearly. Let me handle this part.’

But when it came to the second challenge, a reaction test where you had to slap each other’s hands before the other could dodge - Jude’s reflexes as a professional athlete completely ruined your chances.

‘You’re impossible,’ you huffed, swatting at him as he casually held his hands just out of reach.

‘Don’t hate the player,’ he replied, his grin widening.

By the time the day ended, you were sitting on the studio’s couch, scrolling through some of the footage on your phone. Jude plopped down beside you, his body radiating warmth even in the air-conditioned room.

‘Let me see,’ he said, leaning over your shoulder.

You tilted the phone so he could watch the clips. The two of you looked so natural together, laughing, teasing, and bantering like you’d known each other for years instead of hours.

‘This one’s my favourite,’ he said, pointing at a video where you’d accidentally tripped over a cord mid shoot. Instead of falling, Jude had caught you with an arm around your waist, and the moment had turned into a perfectly awkward laugh caught on camera.

‘Yeah, that’s real ‘effortless cool,’ you said sarcastically.

He leaned back, his smirk softening into something more sincere. ‘You’re good at this. Like, really good. It’s not just the cameras. You’ve got... presence.’

You turned to him, surprised by the compliment. ‘Thanks, Jude. You’re not bad yourself, you know. For a footballer.’

As you both walked out of the studio, Jude fell into step beside you. The evening air was cool, the streets of the city buzzing with life.

‘You hungry?’ he asked casually, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. ‘Are you asking me to dinner?’

‘Maybe,’ he replied, that boyish grin creeping onto his face. ‘Unless you’re too busy for a post shoot celebration.’

You pretended to consider it. ‘Depends. Is this dinner part of the campaign, or is this just you trying to get to know me better?’

He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Off the record. No cameras, no Adidas logos. Just you and me.’

You hesitated for a moment before smiling. ‘Alright, Jude. You’ve got yourself a deal.’

The restaurant Jude chose wasn’t flashy, which surprised you. No cameras, no fancy decor, just a tucked away little spot that smelled like garlic and freshly baked bread. It was soft, warm, and nothing like the high-energy day you’d just had.  

‘This is unexpected,’ you said, sliding into the booth opposite him.  

‘What? Did you think I’d take you to some five-star rooftop spot?’ He smiled, setting his phone facedown on the table. ‘Not my style.’

‘I don’t know, you football types always seem... I don’t know, extra?’

Jude leaned back, one arm draped casually over the booth. ‘I’m not exactly your average footballer. But you already knew that.’

You laughed, shaking your head. ‘Alright, I’ll give you that. You’re different.’

The waiter appeared, and you both ordered, Jude insisting you get the house special because ‘it’s the only reason I come here.’ Once the waiter disappeared, there was a brief silence, the kind that could’ve been awkward if Jude wasn’t so effortlessly comfortable.  

‘So, do you always nonchalantly get your way through shoots like that?’ you teased, resting your chin on your hand.  

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Nonchalance? That’s what you call it?’

‘What else would I call it?’

‘Survival,’ he said with a laugh. ‘You don’t understand, I’m used to kicking a ball around, not posing and trying to look cool.’

‘Well, you pulled it off,’ you admitted. ‘Even if you were hopeless at TikTok.’

‘Hopeless?’ He leaned forward, grinning. ‘You’re crazy, you know that?’

‘Just honest,’ you said, matching his energy.  

The banter flowed as naturally as it had on set, but there was something more intimate about it now. Without the cameras and the crew, Jude wasn’t just the Adidas poster boy or the football sensation, he was Jude, the guy who couldn’t stop making you laugh.  

As you left the restaurant, you didn’t notice the group of fans across the street until one of them shouted his name.  

‘Jude! Over here!’

You glanced at him, expecting him to be annoyed, but instead, he smiled and waved, walking over to sign autographs and take a few pictures. You hung back, not wanting to steal his moment, but one of the fans pointed at you.  

‘Is that your girlfriend?’

Your cheeks burned, and before you could even respond, Jude turned to you with a smirk. ‘What do you think? Should we let them guess?’

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. ‘Let’s not start rumors on a Wednesday night.’

The fans laughed, but your heart raced as Jude returned to your side, his hand brushing against yours.  

‘Sorry about that,’ he said once you were out of earshot.  

‘Does that happen a lot?’

‘All the time,’ he admitted. ‘You get used to it. But I guess that’s your world too, huh? Fans, cameras, people watching your every move?’

‘It’s... different,’ you said honestly. ‘I mean, I don’t have people yelling my name on the street, but yeah, there’s pressure to always be ‘on.’’

He nodded, his expression softening. ‘Yeah, I get that.’

You woke up the next day to your phone buzzing non-stop. Half-asleep, you grabbed it off your nightstand and squinted at the screen.  

Your notifications were flooded.  

FootyUpdates: ‘Jude Bellingham spotted at dinner with influencer yourusername last night 👀 Fans are already shipping it!’

AdidasOfficial: ‘Name a more iconic duo than JudeBellingham and yourusername. We’ll wait.’

yourfanacc: ‘Wait, are Jude and Y/N a THING?!? They look so cute together!!!’

You groaned, scrolling through the dozens of comments, edits, and conspiracy theories. One clip in particular was gaining traction, a TikTok of you and Jude laughing during the campaign shoot, set to a romantic song.  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Jude: morning darling. you seen the chaos yet?

You laughed, typing back. 

oh, you mean the part where we’re trending? yeahhh, just saw it.

think adidas planned this?

wouldn’t put it past them

There was a pause before his next message came through.  

Jude: you alright with it? 

You hesitated. The attention was overwhelming, sure, but there was something exciting about it too.  

mhm, as long as you’re ok being shipped w me?

Jude: could be worse. you’re kinda hard not to like.

The buzz from the campaign only grew, and Adidas wasted no time capitalizing on it. Within a week, you and Jude were booked for another event, a live Q&A streamed on Instagram.  

‘You ready for this?’ he asked as you both sat down in front of the camera.  

‘Not even a little,’ you admitted, adjusting your mic.  

The questions started off innocent enough, favorite Adidas pieces, funniest moments from the shoot, but it didn’t take long for fans to steer the conversation toward your ‘chemistry.’

‘So, what’s it like working together?’ one fan asked.  

Jude glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. ‘Terrible. She bullies me non stop.’

You gasped, swatting his arm. ‘That’s a lie! You’re the bully.’

The fans ate it up, the comment section exploding with heart emojis.

As the weeks went on, you and Jude kept crossing paths, for more Adidas campaigns, promotional events, and even the occasional text conversation that drifted into late night time. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to ignore the spark between you.  

But with every laugh, every lingering glance, there was always that voice in the back of your head reminding you of the cameras, the fans, and the fact that you were both living in two completely different worlds.  

One night, after a particularly long shoot, Jude turned to you as you were packing up your things.  

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ you replied, pausing.  

‘Do you ever... wish things were simpler? Like, no cameras, no pressure. Just normal?’

His question caught you off guard, but you nodded. ‘All the time. Why?’

He hesitated for a moment before giving you a small smile. ‘Just wondering.’

You didn’t push, but the way he looked at you in that moment stayed with you long after you’d gone home.  

It was late. You were sitting at a café, hunched over your laptop, trying to get some work done before the next event. The world outside was quiet, the kind of peaceful night that made everything feel suspended in time.  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Jude: you still up?

You smiled, quickly typing back.

always. got a shoot tomorrow. what’s up?

A few seconds later, his response popped up.  

Jude: wanna grab a drink rq?

You hesitated. There was something different about tonight. Jude had been subtly pulling away lately, nothing obvious, just an undercurrent of distance. Maybe it was the pressure of the campaign, the media frenzy, or maybe he was just being careful not to blur the lines between your professional relationship and whatever else might be brewing.  

But the truth was, you’d been feeling the same thing. The moments you spent together were becoming harder to ignore. Every time you caught his eye, or when he touched your shoulder in passing, your heart would skip a beat.  

i’d love to.

The bar was quiet, tucked into a side street away from the chaos of the city. It was dimly lit, with soft jazz playing in the background. You both sat at a small table near the window, your drinks untouched as the conversation flowed between easy laughter and deeper silences.  

‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous around someone,’ Jude confessed, swirling his drink with a half-smile.  

You raised an eyebrow. ‘You? Nervous?’

He nodded, a subtle vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. ‘Yeah. I guess I don’t really know how to... handle this.’

‘Handle what?’ you asked, your voice softening.  

‘This.’ He gestured between the two of you. ‘Whatever this is. I mean, you’ve been a part of my life now for what, a few weeks? But every time we’re together, it feels like something... more.’

The words hung in the air, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.  

You set your drink down and leaned forward, heart pounding. ‘Jude, I get it.’

His eyes flicked to yours, searching for the sincerity behind your words.  

‘You get what?’

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. ‘The pressure. The cameras, the fans, this whole world we live in. But I think... I think I’ve been avoiding this whatever this is between us, because it’s too complicated. I don’t know how to work it either.’

There was a long pause before Jude finally spoke, his voice low and steady. ‘I don’t want to keep pretending like it’s nothing. Like this isn’t affecting me. Because it is. Every time I see you, every time we talk, I can’t help but feel like I’m falling for you.’

Your heart hammered in your chest. ‘Jude, I...’

But before you could finish, he leaned in, his hand brushing against yours on the table. His touch was light but electric, sending a shiver up your spine.  

‘I don’t want to fight this anymore,’ he whispered, his eyes locked on yours. ‘I don’t want to pretend that I don’t want this. I want you.’ 

The tension between you both was insane. You could feel the weight of his words, and something inside you clicked. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and you finally understood that all the moments of hesitation, the awkwardness, and the teasing had been building up to this one point.  

Slowly, carefully, you leaned forward, closing the space between you. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, like you both were unsure, testing the waters. But then Jude’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, and everything about that moment felt right.  

Your heart raced as you kissed him deeper, the world around you fading away. There was no camera, no pressure, no fans, just you and him, two people who had been dancing around this moment for far too long.  

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Jude rested his forehead against yours. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long,’ he murmured.  

You smiled, a little breathless yourself. ‘Me too.’

He laughed, that familiar spark returning to his eyes. ‘Guess it was worth the wait, huh?’

You nodded, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions. ‘Worth it.’

There was a comfortable silence as you both sat back in your seats, the world outside still unaware of what had just shifted between you.  

But in that moment, it didn’t matter. You’d crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed. Whatever happened next, you both knew it wouldn’t be easy. The cameras, the fans, the expectations, they’d all be there. But for the first time in weeks, you felt certain of one thing: you wanted this.  

And maybe, just maybe, he did too.  

The next day, you and Jude had to face reality. The media frenzy about your ‘relationship’ reached new heights, with every tabloid, Instagram post, and fan account speculating on what the kiss meant.  

But for once, it didn’t faze you. You were sitting next to him, the two of you quietly sipping coffee in the hotel lobby, exchanging glances and small smiles like you hadn’t just turned your world upside down.  

‘You know they’re gonna talk about this for days, right?’ you said, half-amused.  

Jude chuckled, reaching for your hand under the table. ‘Let them. We’ve got something real, even if they don’t get it.’

‘I’m okay with that.’ You squeezed his hand gently, the connection between you undeniable.  

And maybe that was the point. No matter what the world thought, you and Jude had found something real in the chaos. Something that couldn’t be captured by a camera, something just for the two of you.  

And for the first time in a long time, you felt free.  

texts jude would send you part 2 - jb au!!

got another request to do this so here you go!! 🤍🤍

part one

i’m officially done w my current requests so please feel free to send more !! xx

ღ - WHO I WRITE FOR. 💕

okay so like the title is quite deceiving but also i wanna say like i will write for any footballers or f1 drivers (i love being a tifosi) anywho so i hope this helps when requesting bc i know some of you have been hesitant bc ydk who i write for!! 💓

hey do u write for hector fort 😭? and if u do please write some headcanons for my man 🙏🙏

❦ - hector fort boyfriend headcannons

summary:: pov; you’re hector’s girlfriend.

warnings:: none!

writers note:: ofc i’ll write for hec!! i’ll write for anyone so idmmm!! i love headcannons it’s easy and i’ve js clocked that my hcs are descriptive asf. 😭 also this is the end of my inbox which is crazy so keep on requesting bc i have no ideas of my own fics… AND IM WRITING THIS DURING BARCA VS BETIS SO GAVI GOALLLL 🤍

ꨄ - quality time ; his love language is definitely quality time. he loves spending time with you whether it’s quiet evenings inside or going for a late night walk.

ꨄ - he’s the type to bring you flowers randomly, not bc it’s a special occasion but on a random tuesday, just because why not.

ꨄ - he’s not fond of pda at all so instead he’ll just hold your hand or rest his arm around your shoulders just to make it known you’re his.

ꨄ - COMMUNICATION IS KEY. he’s big on communication so he’ll always make you feel heard.

ꨄ - his gifting is thoughtful ; he pays close attention to things you love and will always include that in gifting whenever he can.

ꨄ - he loves being close to you. whenever you’re together he’ll bring you closer to him and if you’re away for days he’ll send voice notes talking about how much he misses you.

ꨄ - whenever he’s with his teammates he’ll always try and mention you, and if you visit him after his training, they’ll never stop teasing him.

ꨄ - he ‘accidentally’ leaves his hoodies at your place.

ꨄ - lowkey a cutie bc whenever you fall asleep on him he’ll take a photo of you and post it on his story for you to see when you wake up

SORRY THIS IS SHORT I WAS LOWKEY OUT OF IDEAS

JULES I CANNOT😭😭

😭😭😭