#makes me think about how near the start of the game he says it to Bode but Bode just kind of ignores it

[pdriesta]

a love like this — 2

an — a series of blurbs based on the main couple of "something real”. if you’re someone that read it, let me know if you have requests <3

masterlist

match days always felt electric. the stadium buzzed with energy, the stands filling up with excited fans, and the players moving about with a kind of nervous anticipation. y/n was always the first to arrive, making sure everything was set, from the physio rooms to the pitchside equipment. there was a routine to it, a rhythm she’d grown accustomed to. but no matter how busy the day got, there was one thing she always looked forward to—seeing jude before the game.

it had become their ritual. no matter what, he would always find her before kickoff, even if it was just for a few stolen seconds.

she stood in the hallway of the facility, away from the noise of the locker room, waiting for him like always. it was their little moment, their quiet ritual before every game. when jude finally appeared, already in his kit, his eyes lit up the second he saw her.

without a word, he closed the distance between them, arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close. she tilted her head up, meeting his gaze, and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. it was always quick, always gentle, but enough to calm her nerves and fill him with that final bit of confidence.

“be safe, yeah?” she whispered, her hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

he smiled down at her, his thumb brushing the side of her hip. “always. for you.”

he kissed her again, just a soft brush of lips, before pulling back, his fingers lingering on her waist for a moment longer before he let go. “i’ll see you after,” he murmured, a hint of warmth in his voice.

“good luck,” she whispered as he jogged off, leaving her standing there with a smile tugging at her lips, her heart a little lighter.

the game started fast, with real madrid dominating possession, and jude was in the thick of it, as always. y/n watched from the sidelines, her heart in her throat every time he got near the ball. she loved watching him play—his skill, his passion, his fire—it was magnetic. but it also made her anxious, especially on days like this when the stakes were high, and the tackles were hard.

then, it happened.

one minute, jude was sprinting down the pitch, weaving through defenders, and the next, he was on the ground, clutching his shoulder after a harsh tackle. y/n’s heart stopped. everything around her went blurry, the crowd’s roar fading into a dull hum as she watched him writhe in pain.

gerard was already moving, rushing out onto the pitch to tend to him. y/n stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat as she watched them help jude off the field, his face contorted in pain, his arm hanging limply by his side.

he was subbed off immediately, and her stomach twisted in knots. she wanted to be by his side, but her job kept her pitchside for the rest of the game. her mind raced, heart hammering in her chest as she tried to focus on the match, but it was impossible. all she could think about was him, the pain he must be in, the uncertainty of the injury.

the final whistle blew, and real madrid won, but y/n barely registered it. she sprinted toward the tunnel, her feet moving faster than her mind. all she cared about was jude.

she found him in the medical room, sitting on the bench, his face pale and strained. his left shoulder was wrapped tightly, and he winced every time he moved.

“jude,” she breathed, rushing to his side. her hands hovered over him, unsure where to touch without hurting him further. “how bad is it?”

he looked up at her, offering a weak smile. “gerard says it’s not dislocated. but i need scans to be sure.”

y/n nodded, her heart heavy with worry. she knew she had to stay professional, but the sight of him in pain, the uncertainty of it all—it was too much.

“i’ll take care of you,” she whispered, her fingers gently brushing his knee as if to ground herself.

jude nodded, but she could see the strain in his eyes, the way he clenched his jaw to hide the pain. it broke her heart to see him like this.

after weeks, y/n and jude finally found the time for themselves in between their busy schedules for a date night. it had been a perfect night—one of those rare moments where their schedules aligned and they could just be them, away from the pitch, the pressure, and everything else. dinner had been slow, intimate, filled with teasing looks across the table, hands brushing as they shared plates. jude was in one of his moods, that playful, flirty side of him that always made y/n blush even when she tried to act unaffected.

by the time they made it back to his apartment, the air between them had shifted from soft flirtation to something far more heated. jude barely got the door shut before he was on her, his hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips met hers in a kiss that was both passionate and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to savor her.

y/n melted into him, her arms looping around his neck as she kissed him back just as fervently, her fingers slipping through the short curls at the nape of his neck. she could feel his need in the way he held her close, like he didn’t want to let go for a second. his lips trailed down to her jawline, pressing light, teasing kisses that made her breath hitch and her body tense in anticipation.

“i missed this,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and husky as his hands wandered to her hips, tugging her even closer.

“me too,” she whispered, her voice breathless as she leaned into his touch. everything about being with him felt right, like they had found this perfect rhythm together. the world outside faded away when they were like this.

before she could process what was happening, jude bent down and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her towards the bedroom with a grin that spoke of mischief and desire. y/n let out a soft gasp, her hands instinctively clutching his shoulders for balance, but that’s when she felt it—the slightest shift in his expression. his grin faltered for a split second, a tiny grimace of pain that was gone almost as quickly as it came.

but she caught it.

“jude…” she said softly, pulling back just enough to see his face. “are you okay?”

he stopped walking, still holding her but not moving forward. for a moment, his playful expression dropped, and she could see it—the flicker of discomfort in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. her gaze immediately flickered to his shoulder, the one that had been injured just a month or two ago, the one that was still wrapped during matches. the same shoulder he was meant to be careful with, even though the doctors had cleared him to play under strict precautions.

“it’s nothing, love,” he said quickly, his tone light, brushing it off as if it were no big deal. but the way his body tensed gave him away.

y/n frowned, her hand gently cupping his cheek as she searched his face. “jude, don’t lie to me. you grimaced.”

“grimaced?” he repeated, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to steer the conversation back to their usual banter. “nah, i don’t think i know what that word means. you must be imagining things.”

“jude.” her voice was firmer this time, her brow furrowed with concern. “if you’re in pain, you need to tell me.”

he set her down gently, his arms still loosely wrapped around her waist as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “it’s fine, y/n. i promise,” he said, his voice softer now, more sincere. “it’s just a little sore. nothing to worry about.”

she opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get a word out, he kissed her again—slow and deliberate, his lips moving against hers with a tenderness that made her mind go blank. her heart fluttered, and just like that, her focus shifted. her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers in a way that made her forget all about his shoulder for a moment.

he pulled back slightly, just enough to murmur against her lips, “you’re worrying too much again, love.”

her body betrayed her, melting into him even though her brain was still trying to hold on to the thread of concern. “i’m serious, jude…”

but he kissed her again, this time more insistent, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt, sending shivers down her spine. “how about you stop worrying… and let me take care of you tonight,” he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction.

y/n’s breath hitched, her heart racing as his words settled over her. she could feel the warmth of his hands on her skin, the way his touch made her mind foggy with desire. she wanted to press him further, to make him admit if he was really in pain, but the way he was looking at her—the intensity in his gaze, the way his lips ghosted over hers—it made her forget everything else.

he grinned down at her, sensing her hesitation fading. “there she is,” he teased, his thumb brushing lightly over her bottom lip. “you’re always overthinking, y/n. i’m fine.”

she bit her lip, still feeling a flicker of worry in her chest, but she couldn’t resist the pull of him—the way his presence consumed her, the way he could make her forget all her concerns with just a look. he’s fine, she told herself. he wouldn’t hide something from me.

and just like that, jude had successfully distracted her, his teasing words and gentle touches working their magic. he leaned down to kiss her again, his lips moving over hers with a passion that left her breathless. her hands roamed over his chest, and before she knew it, they were back to where they had started—lost in each other, in the heat of the moment.

but deep down, somewhere beneath the desire, a small voice still whispered in the back of her mind, reminding her of that fleeting grimace, of the tension in his body. it wasn’t enough to pull her out of the moment now, but it lingered, waiting for a quiet moment to resurface.

the atmosphere in the physio room was different when it was just the two of them. jude was lying on the table, his shirt tossed aside, muscles on full display as y/n stood beside him, clipboard in hand. she tried to keep her professional demeanor intact, but it was difficult with how aware she was of his body, the familiar contours of his skin, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. she couldn't help it—their last night together still played on loop in her mind, and the flicker of concern from that grimace gnawed at her more than she wanted to admit.

"alright, let's start," she said, her voice steady but her mind racing. she avoided eye contact, focusing on the basics as she gently prodded his uninjured arm first. "raise this arm for me."

jude smirked, lifting his right arm with ease, the muscles flexing under his skin. "easy."

"good." she made a note on her clipboard, moving to his injured shoulder, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the slight tension in his face, even though he was trying hard not to show it. he’s still in pain, she thought, but she stayed silent.

“now the other one,” she instructed, keeping her tone as even as possible.

he raised his left arm, but only halfway before his movement faltered. y/n’s eyes darted to his shoulder, catching the subtle wince that he tried to mask behind a grin.

“see? not too bad,” he said casually, dropping his arm back down as if the strain wasn’t obvious.

but she saw it. he’s hiding something.

“jude,” she said softly, stepping closer, her hand reaching out to his shoulder. her fingertips brushed his skin, and she could feel the tightness there, the tension in the muscles. “does it hurt?”

“nah,” he shrugged, leaning back against the table with a playful glint in his eyes, “i think you’re just looking for an excuse to touch me.”

she rolled her eyes, trying to keep her focus on the task at hand, but his teasing always had a way of getting under her skin. “i’m serious. don’t joke about this.”

“oh, come on,” jude replied, flashing her that boyish grin that had her heart racing even when she didn’t want it to. “i’m fine, love. you’re just being overprotective.”

“i have to be overprotective,” she countered, biting her lip as she stepped back, her hand falling away from him. “it’s my job.”

“mm, is that what this is? just work?” his voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone, and the way he was looking at her—soft, smoldering—made her stomach flip. “because i could’ve sworn you liked touching me.”

her breath hitched, a blush creeping up her neck as she tried to focus on the clipboard in her hands. “jude.”

“what? i’m just saying,” he chuckled, sitting up on the table, his arm moving a little too freely for someone supposedly recovering. “maybe i should get hurt more often if it means you’ll fuss over me like this.”

she glared at him, though her lips twitched with a smile. “that’s not funny.”

“oh, but you’re smiling.” he leaned forward, and before she could step away, his hand caught her wrist, pulling her gently toward him. “c’mon, love. you don’t have to worry so much. i’m fine. promise.”

y/n could feel her resolve weakening as his thumb rubbed soft circles into her skin, his touch warm and comforting. her eyes flickered to his shoulder, still aching, still not fully healed. she knew she should be focusing on the session, on the way his range of motion wasn’t what it should be, on the tightness that was still there.

but jude had this way of making everything else melt away, of making her forget, just for a moment, how serious things were.

“you’re not fine, jude,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper as her hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her palm. “i can tell.”

he sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her skin. “maybe it’s not perfect yet,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, more honest. “but it’s getting better. i’m fine, y/n.”

she closed her eyes, torn between her concern as a professional and her feelings as his girlfriend. her fingers brushed lightly over his skin, feeling the tension there, the strain he was trying so hard to hide.

“you don’t have to act tough with me, jude,” she murmured, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “i know when you’re hurting.”

he looked at her for a long moment, his eyes softening as he reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “you’re too good to me, you know that?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “always worrying.”

“because i love you,” she said quietly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

jude’s eyes softened even more, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “and i love you too, which is why you don’t need to worry. i’m okay.”

she wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that everything was fine, that he wasn’t still in pain. but the way he winced when he thought she wasn’t looking, the way his shoulder still felt tense under her fingers—it all told her a different story.

but for now, she let it slide, letting herself melt into his touch as his lips found hers again, soft and tender, stealing her breath away.

she knew she couldn’t let it go forever, but for tonight, she let herself believe him.

it was late. the kind of late where the office was eerily quiet, the hum of the computer the only sound in the physio room. y/n sat at her desk, eyes fixed on the screen in front of her. she had been staring at jude’s file for what felt like hours, her mind racing as she scrolled through the details of his last scan, the diagnosis staring back at her like a punch to the gut.

rotator cuff strain. partial tear. possible surgical intervention required.

she blinked, her heart pounding in her chest as the reality of it settled in. her hands hovered over the keyboard, scrolling through the notes, the recommendations from the team doctor, the detailed suggestions for further treatment.

he needs surgery.

it was there in black and white, clear as day, but somehow—somehow—she had missed it. or rather, she had overlooked it. she hadn’t wanted to see it. jude had been so convincing, so adamant that he was fine, that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. and she had trusted him. she had wanted to trust him. he’s fine, he’d said, it’s just precautionary.

but now, staring at the report, she felt her stomach twist with guilt. how had she let this slip by? how had she let herself believe that everything was okay when deep down, she knew something wasn’t right? she had seen the signs—the grimace when he moved, the tightness in his shoulder, the way he brushed off her concern night after night. but she had let it go because she loved him, because she wanted to believe that he wouldn’t hide something so important from her.

he lied. maybe not outright, but he hadn’t told her the full truth. and now, the weight of that omission was crushing her. she scrolled through the file again, her eyes tracing the doctor’s notes, the suggestion for surgical intervention, the warning about potential long-term damage if left untreated.

how could he do this?

y/n felt a lump rise in her throat, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk as the reality of it all hit her. jude wasn’t just playing through pain—he was risking everything. his career, his health, his future. and he hadn’t told her. he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the truth.

her mind flashed back to their last session, the way he had flirted with her, teased her, tried to distract her. she had known something was off. she knew something was wrong, but she had let herself be swept up in his charm, in the way he made her feel, in the love that had grown between them over the past year.

how could i have been so blind?

her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating before she clicked out of the file. she leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen as the weight of it all settled in. jude needed surgery. he needed treatment. and he had kept it from her, knowing what it could mean for his career, for his body, for them.

and now, she was going to have to confront him about it.

y/n closed her laptop, her hands shaking as she stood from her desk. she could feel the anger bubbling up inside her, but more than that, she felt hurt. he had lied to her—he had put his career ahead of his health, ahead of their relationship, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal.

she had to talk to him. she had to make him understand how serious this was, even if it meant they would argue, even if it meant pushing him in ways she didn’t want to.

because if she didn’t… she wasn’t sure what would happen.

the door clicked shut behind jude as he walked into his home, his shoulders stiff with frustration, pain laced through his every movement. y/n stood by the kitchen counter, her arms crossed, waiting. she had thought about this moment all day, how to approach it without letting her emotions get the best of her. but now, seeing him walk in like this—defensive, agitated—it all fell apart. the worry she’d bottled up turned into something sharper, something more painful.

"we need to talk," she started, her voice tense, the calm she wanted nowhere to be found.

jude's eyes flicked up, already guarded. "about what?" he muttered, shrugging out of his jacket, wincing as his shoulder strained.

her heart clenched at the sight of him still in pain. she took a breath, trying to keep it together, but it was no use. "about your shoulder," she said, stepping forward, the words tighter than she meant. "you haven’t healed, jude. i saw your scans."

he froze, his eyes locking on hers, that flicker of guilt quickly masked by frustration. "i’m fine."

"you’re not fine," she snapped, her voice rising despite herself. "you need surgery, and you’ve been lying to me."

“i didn’t lie,” jude shot back, his voice louder now, raw with his own frustration. "i just… didn’t tell you."

"exactly!" she cut in, her voice shaking with the intensity of everything she’d been holding back. “you didn’t tell me because you knew what i’d say. you knew i’d tell you to stop playing, to take care of yourself.”

“and miss everything i’ve worked for?" he scoffed, disbelief in his voice. "the season, the champions league, euros—you want me to throw all that away?"

"i am not suggesting for you to 'throw it all away'. i want you to put yourself first and make the right decision especially, if it means not ruining your body. if it means being able to play for years instead of burning out now. jude, i’m not just your girlfriend here—I’m your physio. i’m telling you, you’re risking everything by pushing this." her voice broke, her heart slamming against her ribs as the words spilled out.

he stared at her, his jaw tight, his defenses raised. "you’re always telling me what to do. it’s like i can’t make a single decision without you hovering over me, like i’m incapable or something."

her chest tightened at his words, the sting sharper than she expected. "hovering?" she repeated, her voice trembling. "i’m trying to help you, jude. because i love you. because i can’t stand to see you hurt.”

"i didn’t ask you to help,” he muttered, frustration boiling over. “i didn’t ask you to go through my files or make choices for me. i can take care of myself.”

"clearly not!" she shouted, the dam finally breaking. "you’re pretending everything’s fine when it's not! you're acting like this is nothing, but you're going to ruin yourself. is that what you want?"

he looked at her, eyes blazing. "what do you want me to do, y/n? sit out the most important games of my life and let everyone down?"

"i want you to listen to me,” she said, her voice soft but pleading. "i want you to trust me when i say that pushing through this pain will ruin you. i want you to care about your health enough to stop."

“and what if i can’t?" his voice dropped, the anger in his tone replaced by something harder, colder. “what if i can’t stop? what if chasing my dream means pushing through this?"

“then maybe you need to figure out what matters more,” she whispered, the tears she’d been holding back finally breaking free. “your career or your future.”

he scoffed, shaking his head. "you’re blowing this out of proportion."

“i’m saying,” he bit out, “that sometimes it feels like you don’t trust me to make my own decisions. like you’re constantly babying me. and it’s—” he broke off, rubbing his face with his good hand, exhaling sharply. “it’s suffocating.”

y/n took a step back, the weight of his words settling deep in her chest. suffocating. he felt suffocated by her. by her care, her concern. all this time, she thought she was protecting him, looking out for him, but now it felt like every effort she made was being thrown back in her face.

the words hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of her. for a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. all she could do was stare at him, the man she loved, the man she thought she knew. and in that moment, it all became too much.

her throat tightened, tears threatening to spill, but she swallowed them down, forcing herself to stand tall. “i’m suffocating you,” she repeated quietly, her voice hollow. “i’m trying to help you, jude. because i love you. because i don’t want to see you hurt.”

“i never asked for your help,” he shot back, his voice harsh, cold. “i didn’t ask you to go through my file. i didn’t ask you to act like i can’t make my own choices.”

she flinched at the coldness in his tone, her heart breaking a little more with every word. “so, what? you think i’m overstepping because i care? because i want to make sure you’re not ruining your career?”

“ruining my career?” he echoed, his voice rising. “i’m not ruining anything, y/n. i’m chasing my dream, and you’re trying to take that away from me.”

“i’m not trying to take it away from you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m trying to save you.”

“save me?” jude scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “i don’t need saving. i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine!” she shouted, the dam breaking as her frustration, her fear, her love for him poured out in waves. “you’re hurt, jude, and you’re pretending everything’s okay when it’s not! you’re risking everything for a few more games, and you’re going to get yourself hurt even worse if you keep pushing like this.”

“so what?” he snapped, his eyes blazing with anger. “what do you want me to do, huh? just sit on the sidelines and watch while everyone else plays? let my team down? let my country down?”

“i want you to take care of yourself,” she said, her voice soft, pleading now. “i want you to trust me when i say that you need to stop. not just because i’m your physio, but because i’m the person who loves you.”

“well, maybe i don’t need you to love me like that,” he bit out, his voice cold and cutting. “maybe i don’t need you to hover over me and make decisions for me.”

“fine,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “if you think i’m suffocating you, then i’ll stop.”

she turned, grabbing her bag, her hands shaking as she stuffed her things inside. jude’s eyes widened as he realized what she was doing, his anger fading into panic.

“y/n, wait—”

“no,” she cut him off, her voice shaking. “i swore to myself i would never allow myself to be treated like this again. i love you, jude, but i’m not going to stand here and watch you ruin yourself, and i’m sure as hell not going to let you treat me like this just because i care.”

“y/n—” he reached for her, but she stepped back, her chest tightening with every breath.

“i can’t stay here and watch you destroy yourself. if you don’t want my help, if you don’t want my love, then i'll give you space.” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

and with that, she turned and walked out the door, leaving him standing there, speechless, the weight of his words crashing down around him.

the next morning, y/n moved through the facility like a ghost, her steps deliberate but light, her gaze averted from every familiar face. her usual routine felt foreign, each task tinged with the sting of their argument. it was as if her entire world had shifted on its axis, and now she was navigating through a blur of faces and whispers.

jude's teammates, ever observant, noticed the shift. they gathered in their usual spot in the locker room, exchanging glances as they watched jude, who was trying and failing to focus on a stack of recovery reports.

“hey, jude,” eddie called out, nudging him with a grin. “you and y/n good? you two look like you’ve had a rough night.”

jude stiffened, the question hitting him like a ton of bricks. “we’re fine,” he replied quickly, his voice betraying the unease he felt. “just had a disagreement. nothing to worry about.”

��a disagreement?” aurélien chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “you two are usually joined at the hip. if you’re having trouble, maybe it’s time to sort it out.”

jude sighed, pushing his papers aside. “it’s nothing. she’s probably just busy.”

his teammates exchanged skeptical looks but let the matter drop, knowing when to press and when to let things be. jude, however, couldn’t focus on anything but the hollow feeling in his chest, the gnawing regret of their last conversation.

jude had never seen y/n truly angry at him. the realization that this was their first real fight gnawed at him as he navigated the day, trying to focus but constantly distracted by thoughts of her. their relationship had always been easy—light and warm, full of affection and laughter. but now, the air between them felt thick, and the tension was something he didn’t know how to fix.

he’d never been in this situation with her before. y/n was usually so calm, understanding, always meeting him with patience. but today, she was distant, her posture closed off, her face a mask of professionalism that made him feel like he was a stranger.

when he finally spotted her across the training facility, he didn’t think twice. his legs carried him toward her before he even had a plan of what to say. all he knew was that he couldn’t stand this distance any longer.

“y/n,” he called out, his voice hesitant, unsure.

she didn’t stop immediately, her steps faltering only when he reached her side. when she turned to face him, her expression was unreadable, the usual warmth in her eyes replaced by something much colder.

“jude, i’m working,” she said, her voice clipped. “what do you need?”

his heart sank at the tone, but he pushed forward, desperate to get her to soften. he had no idea how to navigate this, how to reach her when she was this upset with him. so, he did what he always did when things were tense—he tried to charm his way out of it.

“i just wanted to see you,” he said, giving her the smile that usually made her laugh. “can’t go a day without your pretty face, you know?”

she stared at him, unblinking, her lips set in a tight line. no smile. no softening of her features.

“jude,” she said quietly, her voice low and firm. “this isn’t the time for jokes.”

he swallowed hard, feeling the sting of her words but still unsure how to break through the walls she’d put up between them. he wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to y/n being angry, wasn’t used to feeling like he couldn’t fix it with a few sweet words or a touch.

“i’m sorry,” he said quickly, stepping closer, his hand brushing her arm gently. “about last night. i know i messed up. i didn’t mean to hurt you, y/n. i hate this… i hate us being like this.”

she exhaled sharply, her eyes flickering with something close to frustration. “this isn’t about you 'hurting my feelings', jude. do you really think that’s what this is about?”

he blinked, taken aback. he’d thought—well, yes, he’d thought it was about her being upset with him, about her being hurt by the way he’d reacted. wasn’t that what this was about? how he treated her?

“isn’t it?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

y/n shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “no, jude, it’s not about my feelings. it’s about your health. i’m your physio. i have a responsibility to make sure you don’t ruin your body, and you’re ignoring every piece of advice i’ve given you. you’re being reckless, and i can’t… i can’t just sit by and watch you destroy yourself.”

her voice cracked slightly at the end, and for a moment, jude saw the worry beneath her anger. but it didn’t make him feel better—in fact, it made him feel worse. because this wasn’t just about them. this wasn’t something he could fix with an apology or a promise to do better.

“i’m fine, y/n,” he insisted, trying to reach for her again, but she stepped back, putting more space between them. “i don’t need surgery—i’m managing, i’m playing. everything’s under control.”

“under control?” she repeated, her tone dripping with disbelief. “you’re grimacing every time you lift your arm, jude. i've seen it/ you’re not fooling anyone.”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, frustration starting to bubble up inside him. he hated this—hated feeling like he was losing her because of something as stupid as his shoulder.

“what do you want me to say?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration now. “i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i hurt your feelings. i didn’t mean to—”

“this isn’t about my feelings!” she snapped, cutting him off, her eyes flashing. “you still don’t get it, do you? this is about you taking care of yourself. it’s about you trusting me to help you, to do my job. but you’re not. you’re hiding things from me, you’re brushing off your injury like it’s nothing, and i can’t… i can’t be a part of that.”

he stared at her, the full weight of her words settling in his chest like a stone. she was pulling away—really pulling away. not just emotionally, but from her role as his physio. and that… that felt like losing her entirely.

“you’re saying you don’t want to work with me anymore?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n’s expression softened, but only slightly. “i’m saying i can’t work with you if you’re not going to be honest with me. i’ve already told gerard that he’ll be handling your sessions from now on.”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut. he hadn’t expected this—not from her. not from the woman who had been his constant support, his anchor through everything. he felt the sting of betrayal, even though he knew, deep down, that she was right.

“y/n, please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “don’t do this. don’t push me away.”

her gaze softened, but there was still a steely resolve in her eyes. “i’m not pushing you away, jude. i’m setting a boundary. i love you, but i can’t watch you do this to yourself. not as your physio, and not as someone who loves about you.”

and with that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, his heart aching with the weight of everything unsaid.

the week dragged on in silence, y/n tucked away in her office, trying to drown herself in work. she thought if she focused hard enough on the files in front of her, she could ignore the ache gnawing at her chest. it had been a more than a week since their argument—since jude had stubbornly refused the surgery again, and since she had drawn a line between them, choosing her own peace over watching him destroy his body.

but the weight of it all was still there, pressing down on her, making every moment feel heavier. she missed him. she hated this coldness, the distance that felt so unnatural between them. they'd never fought like this before—never been at odds for more than a few playful moments. and now, it felt like an ocean was between them, one that neither of them seemed to know how to cross.

the sound of footsteps approaching her desk barely registered at first. she stayed focused on the computer screen, her fingers moving swiftly over the keys, until the familiar scent of fresh coffee hit her.

she didn’t look up.

“hey, love,” jude’s voice was soft, tentative. he placed a travel thermos in front of her—the one she always used, her favorite color, with the latte she liked to have when she worked late. “i made your latte this morning. figured you’d be needing one.”

her fingers stilled, but she didn’t raise her eyes to meet his. instead, she kept her gaze trained on the screen, willing her emotions to stay in check. she wasn’t going to let him charm his way out of this—not this time.

“thanks,” she muttered, her voice flat, void of any warmth.

jude let out a small sigh, clearly hoping for more. when nothing followed, he leaned down, resting his arms on the edge of her desk, trying to catch her eye. “come on, y/n. you can’t stay mad at me forever. how long are you gonna keep giving me the cold shoulder?”

still, she didn’t look at him. “i’m working.”

he straightened up, clearly flustered, but not giving up. he flashed her that smile—the one that usually melted her resolve in seconds. “when are you coming home? i miss you.”

y/n finally glanced at him, but her eyes were sharp, cold. “why?” she asked, her tone biting. “so i can suffocate you some more? maybe hover over everything you about taking care of yourself like it’s a bad thing?”

her words hit him like a slap, and jude blinked, clearly taken aback. he opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say. he had never seen her this... sharp. this distant. and it was starting to sink in just how much he had hurt her.

“it’s not like that, y/n. you know i—” he began, but she cut him off.

“no, jude. it is like that.” she pushed back from her desk, finally standing and facing him. “you don’t get it, do you? i love you. more than anything. but you’re being reckless, and i can’t stand by and watch it happen. i’m not going to sit here and watch you ruin your career, your body—everything you’ve worked for. and i can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about themselves enough to do what needs to be done.”

he took a step closer, his expression softening as he reached for her hand. “y/n, i care about you—about us. that’s why i’m doing this. i can’t afford to be out for months with surgery. the team needs me.”

she pulled her hand away, frustration boiling up. “and what about what i need, jude? have you thought about that?”

he was quiet for a moment, clearly grappling with her words, trying to find the right thing to say. “i’m sorry,” he murmured. “i’m sorry i hurt your feelings—”

y/n scoffed, her patience running thin. “i'm going to stop you right there. this is about your health. i’m your girlfriend, and i’m your physio. i have a responsibility to make sure you’re okay, and right now, you’re not.”

he looked down, his shoulders slumping slightly. “i know… but surgery—”

“don’t,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “don’t give me the same excuse. if you want to make it up to me, if you really care about us, you’ll get the surgery. that’s how you fix this.”

he stared at her, his jaw tight, clearly wrestling with himself. “i can’t,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t do that.”

y/n’s chest tightened, her heart breaking a little more with each passing second. she took a deep breath, nodding to herself as she made up her mind. “then we don’t have anything left to talk about.”

jude’s head snapped up, panic flashing across his face. “what? no—y/n, come on, don’t do this.”

“i’m not your assigned physio anymore, jude,” she continued, her tone distant, like she was reciting facts rather than emotions. “and as your girlfriend, i’m not going to keep offering you my care and love only for you to throw it back in my face.”

“y/n, please,” he begged, stepping closer, his hand reaching for hers again. “don’t push me away.”

she looked at him, her eyes softening for just a moment. “i’m not pushing you away, jude. until you decide to take your health seriously, we don’t have anything else to talk about.”

and with that, she walked past him, leaving him standing there, lost and unsure, holding her favorite latte that suddenly didn’t seem like enough.

the shopping center was bustling with activity, the sounds of chatter and footsteps echoing through the open-air market as y/n strolled alongside denise and jobe. she had been hesitant to join them at first, but denise had insisted, practically pulling her out of the training center with promises of coffee and a relaxing afternoon. y/n couldn't say no to jude’s mom—she was like the mother she never had. and despite everything, she missed this, missed the warmth of being around his family.

“so, how do you say this again?” denise asked, holding up a scarf to a shopkeeper, her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the spanish phrase y/n had taught her earlier.

y/n smiled softly, stepping in to help. “es tan bonito. how much is it?”

denise repeated the words with a grin, and the shopkeeper beamed at her effort before responding. y/n translated easily, helping denise through the exchange. the older woman patted y/n’s arm, her eyes twinkling. “i don’t know what i’d do without you. you’re my little translator,” she teased, giving y/n a warm smile.

“well, you’re learning,” y/n said with a gentle laugh. “and you’re doing great.”

meanwhile, jobe was trailing behind them, half paying attention to the conversation while glancing at his phone. y/n nudged him playfully. “you’re awfully quiet back there, jobe. come on, join in! you’re one of the girls now.”

jobe rolled his eyes but smirked. “nah, i’m good. you have your fun. i’m just here for the food.”

denise gave him a look, but there was no real bite in her words. “don’t act like you’re not enjoying yourself, jobe. you love shopping with us.”

y/n laughed at that, and jobe let out a dramatic sigh. “fine, maybe a little. but don’t tell anyone.”

as they made their way through the rest of the shops, the atmosphere felt light, almost normal—almost like she hadn’t just walked out on jude days ago. but as they settled down at a small café for lunch, denise’s warm gaze flickered toward y/n, a hint of concern behind her smile.

“you haven’t been over much lately,” denise remarked gently, stirring her coffee. “jude’s been… well, a bit out of sorts. sulking, really.”

y/n tensed at the mention of his name, her fingers tightening around her mug. “yeah, things have been… complicated.”

jobe glanced at her, sensing the shift in mood. “he’s been a right pain at home,” he added with a chuckle, though his eyes were more curious than teasing. “what’s going on with you two?”

y/n sighed, setting her coffee down. she didn’t want to get into too many details, but she knew she couldn’t dodge their concern forever. “we had a fight. about his surgery. he’s being stubborn and refusing it, and i just… i can’t stand by and watch him hurt himself.”

denise nodded thoughtfully, her expression softening with understanding. “that sounds like my jude,” she murmured, shaking her head. “he’s always been driven, even as a little boy. always pushing himself, always wanting to be the best.”

y/n felt a lump form in her throat as she listened, her heart aching. “i know. and i get it, i do. but he’s risking everything—his health, his future. i can’t just sit there and do nothing.”

denise reached across the table, placing a gentle hand on y/n’s arm. “sweetheart, jude is so focused on his goals that sometimes he forgets about the bigger picture. he’s always been that way. stubborn, yes, but he’s also in love with you. he’ll come around—you just have to give him time.”

jobe leaned back in his chair, nodding in agreement. “yeah, he’s a bit of an idiot sometimes, but he’s not stupid. he loves you, y/n. it’s just… football is everything to him, and right now, he’s scared of losing that. but that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about you too.”

y/n bit her lip, her chest tightening with emotion. “i just don’t know how to get through to him. it feels like i’m banging my head against a wall.”

denise smiled warmly, squeezing her hand. “just keep being patient, love. jude’s got a good head on his shoulders, but sometimes he needs a little nudge in the right direction. he’ll figure it out. and when he does, he’ll realize that you’re right.”

y/n gave a small, grateful nod, her heart feeling a little lighter. she appreciated their insight, their understanding of jude in a way only his family could provide. they had seen him through all his phases, his triumphs, and his struggles, and their words gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d come to his senses.

as they finished their lunch and continued shopping, y/n felt a small flicker of peace. things weren’t perfect, and the weight of her argument with jude still loomed over her, but being with his family—hearing their stories and their faith in him—made her feel like she wasn’t alone in this.

and maybe, just maybe, jude would realize that too.

the sun was setting over madrid, casting a golden hue through the large windows of jude’s apartment. y/n sat on the edge of the couch, her heart racing as she stared at the familiar surroundings. it had been days since they last spoke—days that felt like weeks, filled with uncertainty, hurt, and distance.

but she was here now. despite everything, she missed him. missed them. and as much as it pained her to watch him be so reckless with his body, she knew they had to find a way through this. for both their sakes.

the sound of the front door opening pulled her from her thoughts, and a moment later, jude stepped inside. his eyes met hers instantly, surprise flashing across his face, quickly replaced by a mixture of relief and guilt. he closed the door behind him, hesitating by the entrance as if unsure of what to say.

“hey,” his voice was soft, tentative, as he dropped his gym bag on the floor. “i didn’t expect you to be here.”

y/n stood, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. “i didn’t expect to come either,” she admitted, her voice equally soft. “but we need to talk.”

jude nodded, his shoulders sagging as he approached her slowly, as if afraid she might disappear. “yeah, we do.”

they stood there for a moment, the silence heavy between them, both unsure of how to start. it was jude who broke the quiet first, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself.

"i need to apologize for… for what i said the other day.” his voice was quiet, almost as if he was ashamed to bring it up.

y/n looked at him, waiting for him to continue. she knew what he was referring to—how his words had cut deep, leaving a wound she hadn’t been able to shake.

he swallowed hard, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. “what i said about you suffocating me… about you hovering over everything. that was wrong. so wrong. i didn’t mean it, not like that. i was angry, frustrated with myself, and i took it out on you. you were just trying to help me, and instead of appreciating it, i threw it back in your face. i’m so sorry.”

his voice broke slightly, the guilt etched into every word. y/n’s heart ached as she watched him struggle with the weight of his apology. she could see how much it was eating at him, how much he regretted the hurtful things he had said in the heat of the moment.

“you didn’t deserve that,” jude continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “you’ve always been there for me. always cared for me, even when i wasn’t taking care of myself. i don’t know why i said those things. i was scared, and i lashed out at the one person who’s always had my back. and that was wrong.”

y/n blinked, her chest tightening as the memory of his words came flooding back. she hadn’t realized just how much she needed to hear him say this, to acknowledge the damage he’d caused. she had spent so many nights replaying the argument, wondering if maybe he had truly felt that way—that she was too much, too protective, too demanding.

but hearing him now, seeing the pain in his eyes, she realized how much he had been hurting too. they had both been navigating this storm together, just on opposite sides of the same battle.

“jude,” she said softly, her voice wavering. “i know you didn’t mean it, but… it still hurt. when you said those things, it made me feel like i was the problem. like maybe i was asking for too much by caring about you.”

he shook his head quickly, his hands reaching for hers again, holding them tightly. “no, no, y/n. you are never the problem. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. and i was too caught up in my own head to see that.”

he took a deep breath, his grip on her hands tightening as if he was afraid to let her go. “you’re not suffocating me. you’re not too much. i need you, y/n. i need you in my life, and i need your care. because without you… i don’t know where i’d be right now. probably doing even worse.”

a small, sad smile tugged at the corners of y/n’s lips. “i just want you to be okay, jude. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

he nodded, his expression earnest, filled with remorse and love. “and i promise you, i’m going to do better. i’m going to take care of myself, and i’ll listen to you. because you’re right—i can’t keep ignoring my health. and i can’t keep pushing you away when all you’ve ever done is love me.”

y/n’s eyes softened, and she squeezed his hands gently. “that’s all i ask. that you take care of yourself, so we can take care of us.”

jude leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. “i’m sorry, baby. for everything. and i’m going to make it right.”

she closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his presence wash over her. “i know you will,” she whispered, feeling the weight of the past few weeks slowly start to lift.

they stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in the silence, the apology finally spoken, the air between them beginning to clear.

jude sat down beside her on the couch, his leg bouncing nervously. “i won’t get the surgery now,” he said, his voice steady but filled with determination. “not yet. i want to be there for the euros, and i’m not ready to sit that out. but i swear, y/n, after that… after the tournament, i’ll do it. i’ll get the surgery.”

y/n’s heart ached at his words, knowing how much the decision weighed on him. she took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of guilt rise in her chest.

“jude… i never want to make you feel like you have to choose between your dreams and me,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “that’s not fair, and it’s not what i want. you deserve to live your dream, to play and give it your all. i don’t want you to feel torn between what you love and us. i just… i just want you to be safe.”

he turned toward her, his brow furrowed in concern as he took her hands again. “y/n, you’re not making me choose. this isn’t about you versus football. i need to take care of myself because i want a future with you. us.”

his voice softened as he continued. “i know what football means to me. but you, love… you’re my future. i promise i’ll find the balance. for both of us.”

her chest tightened as his words sank in. “promise me, then,” she whispered, tears threatening to fall. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself until then. more physio sessions, more rest, whatever it takes. i can’t lose you, jude. not to an injury, not to anything.”

he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down her cheek. “i promise. i’ll do whatever it takes. because i don’t want to lose you either.”

y/n’s breath hitched, her emotions swirling as she searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt. but all she saw was sincerity, love, and a deep regret for the pain he’d caused. she could feel the weight of his words, the shift in him, and it brought a sense of relief she hadn’t expected.

slowly, she leaned into his touch, letting her forehead rest against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. “i love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking just a little. “i need you to take care of yourself. for me, for you… for us.”

jude closed his eyes, his hold on her tightening as if he was afraid she might slip away. “i love you too, y/n. more than anything. and i’m going to do better. i swear.”

they stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the tension that had been simmering between them finally beginning to melt away. when y/n pulled back slightly, her eyes met his, and she saw the vulnerability there—the realness of his promise. she believed him.

“okay,” she said softly, offering him a small smile. “then we’ll figure this out. together.”

jude let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his own smile breaking through the exhaustion and worry. “together,” he echoed.

and just like that, the weight that had been pressing down on them both seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of their shared love and the promise of a better tomorrow.

they sat down on the couch, still holding hands, and for the first time in what felt like forever, y/n felt at peace. not because everything was perfect, but because they were in it together—fighting for each other, fighting for their future.

as they leaned into each other, jude pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his voice low and gentle. “after the euros, we’ll take that next step.”

y/n smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “good. because i’m not going anywhere either.”

and in that quiet moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon, they both knew they were stronger together. there was still a long road ahead, but they were ready to face it, hand in hand.

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @treble-snot

[maskedbyghost]

okaay, here's a longer fic about this, it was inspired by 'the hating game'. okay baaiii.

also look at this cute divider made by @gild-ui thank youuuu <33

MDNI!

The base always felt too small when Simon Riley was in the same room as you. Even with a desk separating you, his presence was suffocating, that familiar heat crawling up your neck every time his pen scratched against the paper. Two lieutenants forced to work side by side—Price’s brilliant idea. You hated every second of it.

And Simon wasn’t making it any easier.

“Maybe if you didn’t rush through the report like a rookie, it wouldn’t be full of mistakes,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the stack of papers in front of you.

“I don’t make mistakes,” Simon growled, his voice low, dangerous.

“You do when you’re trying to one-up me, Riley. It’s obvious you’re too focused on trying to be better than me rather than doing your job properly.” You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you stared at him sitting at the other side of the office.

“What’s obvious is you overthinking every damn thing,” he shot back, his gaze unwavering. The tension between you thickened as the seconds dragged on in silence.

You clenched your jaw. “If I wasn’t here, you’d screw up half the paperwork.”

He scoffed, shaking his head like you said something stupid. “You think you’re that important?”

You leaned forward, voice dropping just enough to sound like a challenge. “I know I am.”

For a moment, Simon just stared at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was trying to figure out if you actually believed the words coming out of your mouth.

You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, his hand flexing against the edge of the desk. That’s one point in your favor.

And that’s how you would spend those hours together in the office—locked in a battle of wills. Simon was relentless, always firing back, always pushing your buttons in ways that had your blood boiling.

But you weren’t any better. You knew just how to get under his skin, how to make him scowl, make him grit his teeth in frustration.

It was almost a game at this point.

A twisted game where neither of you ever won, but neither of you ever backed down.

Sometimes, the silence between you was worse. On those days when words felt too heavy, too dangerous, you’d catch yourself stealing glances at him from across the room. Watching the way his hand gripped the pen a little too tightly. The way his shoulders tensed every time you so much as sighed.

He felt it too—this invisible pull, this heat that simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to boil over. You hated it. You hated him.

But that didn’t stop your eyes from lingering a second too long on the way his jaw clenched when he was concentrating. Or how his voice dropped to that gravelly tone whenever he was pissed off at you, which, honestly, was most of the time.

You’d stare at the clock, counting the hours until you could escape the office, escape him. But when the end of the day came, and you packed up your things, the idea of walking out and leaving him behind? It didn’t feel as satisfying as it should.

And the worst part was, Simon was starting to notice it too. You could tell by the way his eyes followed you when you left the room, just for a beat longer than usual. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

Something that neither of you wanted to admit was inevitable.

-

One day, while grabbing coffee, you overheard a conversation near the mess hall.

“Yeah, Lieutenant Riley never takes his mask off. It’s weird, honestly—no one’s ever seen his face,” one of the soldiers was saying.

Another chimed in, laughing. “Guy’s is literally a ghost, I swear.”

Never takes his mask off? That couldn’t be right. They were probably exaggerating.

But as you walked back to the office, you thought about it. Simon always had his mask off when you were working together. His face was just… there. Bare. Frustratingly close. You had memorized the angles of his face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his mouth twisted into that infuriating smirk every time he thought he got the better of you.

And yet, apparently, no one else had seen it.

It didn’t make sense.

Why would he take his mask off in front of you, of all people? You were the one person he couldn’t stand.

Wouldn’t he want to hide his face from you too?

The question swirled around in your mind as you entered the office. You glanced at him from across the room. There he was, mask off, eyes focused on the documents in front of him. Just like always.

You couldn’t help but stare. It had become so normal, so routine, that you’d never even questioned it. But now it felt strange—like there was something you weren’t understanding.

And for the first time, you felt that heat in your chest morph into something different. Something closer to curiosity. You hated him, sure, but…

Why was he comfortable enough to show you his face?

You tried to shake it off, but as the hours ticked by, you couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe you had missed something. Maybe this… tension between you wasn’t just hatred after all.

Nope. It is. End of story.

-

If you weren’t stuck in the office together, there was always a mission that forced you to team up. And this mission had been a brutal one—hours of tension, pushing your body and mind to the brink. By the time you returned to the base, every muscle ached, and your throat felt like sandpaper. The adrenaline was still buzzing in your veins, but the exhaustion was creeping in fast.

You dropped your gear by the door, running a hand through your sweaty hair, trying to shake off the weight of it all.

Across the room, Simon was silent as always, stripping off his tactical vest without so much as a glance your way. Normally, the lack of acknowledgment would piss you off, like he was pretending you didn’t exist. But today, you didn’t have the energy to pick a fight. You just wanted a moment to breathe.

Just as you sat down, feeling the tension in your shoulders starting to ease, something flew through the air toward you. You blinked, catching it instinctively—a bottle of water.

Simon stood a few feet away, his face unreadable. He didn’t say a word, just resumed his routine, as if the small gesture didn’t mean anything.

But it did.

Coming from him, it felt almost significant, a crack in the cold, indifferent wall he always put up.

-

A few days later, another soldier swung by your office to drop off some paperwork, and as he handed it over, you exchanged a few lighthearted jokes. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Simon watching, his expression darkening as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

As soon as the soldier left, Simon’s glare was unmistakable. He didn’t even bother hiding it this time, the tension between you two cranking up a notch.

“You done playing the comedian?” he asked, his voice flat but carrying a sharp edge.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

Simon didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “Didn’t realize you needed to put on a show every time someone walked into the room.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is being civil a crime now? Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Civil?” He finally looked at you, his eyes narrowing. “More like you were trying way too hard to impress him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not everyone walks around with a permanent scowl, Riley. Some of us actually know how to interact with other human beings.”

He let out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, ‘cause flirting’s definitely the way to do that.”

Your mouth dropped open, a mix of shock and annoyance flooding you. “Flirting? Seriously? That’s what you think that was?”

He shrugged, his gaze flicking back to the papers in front of him. “Call it whatever you want. Just do it on your own time.”

You stared at him, once again letting his words frustrate you. “God, you’re unbelievable.”

-

The tension in the office was high as you and Simon argued again, this time about mission details. Papers were scattered across the desk, and the air was thick with frustration.

“You can’t just disregard the protocol like that!” you snapped.

Simon leaned back, crossing his arms. “And you can’t keep overanalyzing everything! Sometimes you just have to trust your instincts.”

“Instincts?” You shot him a look that could kill. “Is that what you call reckless decision-making? Because that’s how people get hurt.”

He stepped closer, his expression intense. “You think I don’t care about the team?”

“Right now, it looks like you’re more focused on proving you’re some kind of hero than actually doing your job,” you said, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Oh, please! Don’t act like you’re the moral authority here,” he fired back, his voice rising. “You’re so busy trying to play it safe that you’re missing the bigger picture!”

You clenched your jaw, feeling your heart race with anger. “The bigger picture? You mean the one where you get us all killed because you refuse to follow my plan?”

Simon’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you both stood there, breathing heavily, the air thick with unspoken words. Then, as if a dam had broken, he surged forward, closing the distance between you.

“Maybe you need to realize that not everything goes according to plan,” he said, his voice low, intensity radiating off him. “Sometimes you have to adapt on the go.”

“And that’s supposed to justify your carelessness?” you shot back, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Carelessness? You think I’m careless?” His voice was sharp, but there was something deeper there, a flicker of something that made you hesitate. “You think you’re better than me just because you follow the rules?”

You glared at him, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. “It’s not about being better. It’s about being smart.”

His gaze softened for just a moment, and in that moment, everything shifted. The air between you crackled with something more than anger, something raw and undeniable.

Before you had time to process it, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He pulled you closer, closing the distance until there was barely any space left between you. Your heart raced, caught between surprise and something dangerous.

And then, without another word, his lips crashed against yours, igniting everything that had been simmering beneath the surface. The kiss was fierce and urgent, a collision of emotions that sent your mind spinning. It was as if all the frustrations and tensions of the past had fused into this single moment, pouring into the way he held you, the way he kissed you.

You responded instinctively, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as you melted into the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, and the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in a heated embrace, lost in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Everything felt right and completely wrong at the same time, but for that brief moment, nothing else mattered but the connection you shared.

When you pulled away, breathless and flushed, his hand still holding your neck, eyes dark and unreadable.

Finally, you smiled, breaking the tension. “Still hate you,” you whispered teasingly, leaning closer.

“Then you’re really going to hate how good this feels,” he shot back, his voice low, and before you could respond, he closed the distance again.

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i think we need a smuty scene with these two. agree??

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@daydreamerwoah

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 ꕤ

➪ summary: late at night, bella gets a call from trevor saying that one of his best friends got traded to Philly. which leaves her to run around target and her apartment to make everything right for him

➪ warnings: jamie's trade

➪ word count: 1.4k

➪ file type: au (and they were roommates) fic

➪ sunny's notes: i cannot believe it took me this long to get this amazing couple back out. i promise to be more active with au's going forward, including the 'rebirth' of ice bound.

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“Hey, Trev. What’s up?”

“Bella? I need a favor.”

“Okay… what’s wrong?”

“Jamie just got traded to the Flyers.”

It was like her heart stopped. Sure she hadn’t known Jamie for that long, barely met him more than twice, but being traded was hard no matter if you wanted it or not. However, there was a bright side to this trade, he knew people here, her and Cam, so at least he wouldn’t be completely in the dark, “Oh god.”

“Do you think that he could-”

“Yeah, of course. No need to even ask. Jamie, when are you going to get in?”

She was grabbing her keys from the counter and getting her shoes on as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear, “I don’t know.”

His voice sounded distant, physically but emotionally. She frowned and opened her door to leave, “Well you let me know okay, honey? I’ll be there to pick you up.”

“Thank you, Bella.” She heard Jamie’s voice once again, it still sounded distraught and far away. 

“Always. You have a safe flight and Trev?”

“Yeah?”

She halted, not actually knowing what she was going to say, “Uh, am I still on speaker?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you take me off please?”

Trevor did as he was asked, sending his friend an empathic look and holding the phone to his ear, “What’s up?”

“He’ll be okay, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

There was a silence separating his last words and the next ones, “Please take care of him for me.”

“Of course, I will Trevor.”

“Thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too, Trev. Now go get some sleep, okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah, okay.”

She hung up and started driving to the store to pick up some things for Jamie, knowing how much he would need things that felt familiar to him. She sent a text to Trevor once she got there, asking for his favorite foods, things that he loved, his favorite video game, etc. She was practically running around the store gathering things, probably buying too much in some people’s opinion. 

She wasn’t totally shocked about the price, she knew she had thrown a lot into the cart, but she paid for it anyway. When she arrived home, she changed the sheets in the guest room and stocked up the guest bathroom with more toiletries than a person would need. There was something off about it however, something was missing. She couldn’t tell what it was but when she saw her childhood stuffed animal sitting on her couch she knew she should put it on his bed. It always helped her through tough times, so why couldn’t it help him?

When she realized the time, she headed to the airport in a flurry. She knew she would be there early but thought it would be better to wait outside the terminal for him instead. She pulled up near the curb, waiting for him. His plane had landed about 20 minutes ago, so she just sat on her phone, occasionally glancing up to see if he was still walking out of the airport.

Once she saw him, she jumped out of the car and stood on the other side of it, waiting for him to get close to her. Once he was in arms reach of her, she pulled him into a hug. She could tell he had been crying, his eyes were puffy and red. Her heart broke when she heard him sniffle into her shoulder, “You ready to go home?”

Jamie didn’t process what she said, all he could hear was “ready” and “go”. He nodded, nonetheless, detaching himself from her. She popped the trunk open and he placed his suitcase in there before getting into the passenger seat. She pulled out of the airport and started to drive home, the two of them sitting in silence until the sound of her phone ringing blared through the car’s speakers. The two moved their eyes to the screen to see Trevor calling, “You want me to answer it?”

She looked over at him, “If you want. You don’t have to.”

He shrugged and pressed the answer button, “Bella! Why’d you take so long to answer? Is Jamie there? Is he okay? Did you find him? Did-”

“Calm down, Trevor. I’m here.”

“Oh good. How was your flight?”

Jamie frowned, “It was okay.”

Bella could see the way he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was still thinking of the way he had to leave so abruptly, barely getting able to say goodbye to the team, let alone Trevor. She smiled slightly at Trevor’s worry, “Trev?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re just getting back to the apartment, can we call you back later? Maybe after Jamie gets settled in?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Take care, you guys.”

“You too, Trev.”

She hung up and pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. She could tell he was still hesitant about this, still distraught with everything that had happened, still upset about the news. She let him sit there, grabbing his luggage from the trunk before walking around to his side of the car, “You read to go up?”

He nodded, fully getting out of the car. The two walked up the stairs, Jamie taking his bag from her so she wouldn't have to. She opened the door and gave him a brief tour, “This is your room. I put some things in there for you if you want them, the bathroom has toiletries if you need them, and yeah. I’ll be in my room if you need me, okay Jamie?”

He gave her a small smile in acknowledgement in which she returned before leaving for her own room. It must’ve been less than five minutes from when she left to when he showed up in the doorway of her room. Bella had barely changed out of her clothes into one of Quinn’s hoodies and a pair of sweats due to having been out in the cold. She was getting ready to watch something on her laptop when she heard the knock.

She looked up with a smile, “What’s up, Jam?”

“Can I lay with you?”

She wasn’t bothered by the question, only scooting over to make room for me. She knew he needed comfort, needed to not be alone, it wasn’t a big deal. He was holding her stuffed animal tightly, it did bring him some sort of comfort, even if it was embarrassing. He sat down next to her and placed the sheets and comforter overtop of his legs, “I’m sorry if this is weird.”

She shook her head, “It’s not. Trust me, you’re not the first person to ask.”

That made Jamie’s stomach twist into an unfamiliar feeling but he shrugged it off, not wanting to pay too much attention to it. She pulled up Disney and looked at him, “What do you want to watch?”

He just shrugged, “Well, I was going to watch Tangled because it’s my comfort movie.” 

He nodded, totally fine with watching the movie. It was a quarter of the way into the movie when Jamie broke out into sobs. Bella looked confused as to what set him off but wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, letting him cry. 

“Everything is changing, Bella. Why does it have to be me?”

She frowned, unsure of how to answer that so she stayed silent. He let out more mumbles and cries before being able to calm himself down, apologizing profusely to her for the way he acted, “Hey, you just got traded, Jamie. I’m not going to say I know how you feel because I don’t. I can only imagine what you’re going through, but it’s not going to be bad forever. There are some great guys on the team and you know Cam and you know me, you’re going to get through this okay?” 

He nodded once more, a small smile forming. She let him settle his head back onto her shoulder before playing the movie and before she knew it, he was fast asleep.

[twisted-confessions]

https://www.tumblr.com/cheekinpermission/746227919612936192?source=share

Hope not late! 25 , 5 and 28👀👀

Nope not late at all!!

25. Which character(s) would you actively avoid? Personally, you would not see me anywhere near Vil, Rook or Sebek.

I can appreciate Vil's efforts to have people more self-confident in their own image however I absolutely despise how forceful he goes about it, especially with Epel and the dance troupe. If I EVER caught him trying to change parts of myself that I'm proud of (my australian accent, my nerdy sense of fashion, etc.) it would be ON SIGHT- (Can you tell I'm still not over Book 5?)

For Rook, i can say I..... respect his dedication and loyalty to his beliefs. However? That man... he scares me... Also, i'm still extremely salty over the VDC/SDC results WE SHOULD HAVE WON THAT AND WE LOST TO THE TWST EQUIVILANT OF BABY SHARK- Rook, i don't care about your reasonings for why we weren't at our best, I've seen the video performance AND THE NRC TRIBE FUCKING NAILED IT!!!

And then our croccy boi- Now don't get me wrong, I do love Sebek as a member of the first year gang of idiots. I also don't know a lot about him personally since I've only known him in events and havent started Book 7 yet. From what I have seen, he does annoy me a lot with his blatant disregard and disrespect to anyone who isn't Malleus or Lilia. His ego and his racism also really piss me off and make me wanna slap some sense into him. I understand it comes from a place of self-loathing but dude, PLEASE read the room for once and not screech our ears off. I'm certain that I would eventually befriend him but if we actually met face to face, it would be a miracle for me to not punch him 1 minute after his insults.

5. If you could have any unique magic / signature spell in the game, which would you choose and why?

Ooooh I've never thought about that until now actually. Personally, i would want something that would be useful and practical both in a day to day life or in a fight since I'm not very physically strong. Going with that idea, i'd more than likely pick either Split Card or Paint The Roses/Doodle Suit. Multiple me's to help me do chores around the house or distract someone in a fight? YES PLEASE!! I also have a lot of sensory issues so I feel like Paint the Roses would really help me eat the things i need to or make a certain texture that feels funny to me turn comfortable. We've also seen how useful it can be in a fight during Riddle's Overblot when Trey turned the rosebush into cards and saved us.

If just for fun though, I'd love to try out any of Savanaclaw's UM's/SS's. Now THAT would be chaotic heheh.

28. What is the TWST related content that you've produced that you are most proud of?

I personally really love my HTTYD x TWST fic that i've been writing. Knowing myself, I probably wont ever finish/post it so I'll have what I've written linked here for anyone who's interested in my favourite brainworm lol. Bella is a very special oc near and dear to my heart as she's the first one that I've enjoyed writing for since being kicked out of home over a year ago. She gave me back my creativity and I couldn't be more thankful for it.

Right now, I've even been imagine a Fairly OddParents x TWST fic in my head which I think would be a BLAST to write, where my Twisted version of Timmy Turner (a girl called Izzy) would use their rule free wish to be a part of Wanda, Cosmo and Poof/Peri's family as their bio daughter when they're no longer her godparents and becomes a half-fairy hybrid in the process. The idea of a "magicless" girl at NRC who out of nowhere suddenly can not only make but GRANT wishes that bend the laws of reality around her is absolutely hilarious to me. Haha take that you pricks, you thought I was weak? BOOM you're a hedgehog, now you really are a prick. Rewatching FOP and seeing how Timmy can be such a menace/pos really makes me think he would fit in GREAT amongst NRC lol.

I'm also really proud of the Card edits I've done for other people where I turn their OC's into different rated cards so it looks like it's from the game. Seeing all the different kinds of OC's and hearing about their characters is so amazing.

Feel free to send in any more asks or questions!! I love interacting with the Twst Community <3

[eraofkalki]

Well what a wonderful thing to wake up to so. . .

Alright. This man. This silly sorcerer that has resonated with me since the start of the game and that obsession nearly doubled down when Nightbringer came out.

He's one of the more multifaceted among the characters. Cunning and wise yet sly and playful, always putting on a smile or that near-sarcastic frown when things don't go as he pleases. Look not saying that the others aren't as interesting—we'd have plenty of room to argue—though I believe that Solomon reigns supreme as being one of the most interesting characters to write for.

How come?

Well. . . a lot could happen.

You may be given a hypothetical scenario: think specific like running away in a getaway car after spending all your money at a casino, or browsing the atlas hidden in the depths of the library as your first date. When you picture those, you may think of let's say Mammon or Satan, or whoever you think would absolutely fit the vibe.

Here's the thing: while you may let any character have their moment with these given prompts, there's no deny that- "hey. wtf. these can apply to Solomon."

It's just.

Wow.

He's not necessarily a one-size-fits-all character, but his personality and dialogue alone quickly layouts millions of possibilities for whatever his character has going for. And that is not yet mentioning his serious moments. Or so his mysterious past as people continue on to speculate about it.

He's so tragedy coded that it's not even funny. Silly man with a dark bloody past?

Which brings to another point- while of course he is a silly ass sorcerer trickster to an extent: when he's serious, he's absolutely fucking serious. <- this person is partly tired when anyone excuses a character's carelessness and naivety due to their trickster persona. And this is not one time as well- Solomon is half to fully serious in his words. While he says it in playful banter, it's the full truth.

And this isn't even adding the fact that man is a fucking simp. Knees on the grown, head hung low, kissing the ground you grace your presence with type of devotion. The embodiment of a starstruck lover, from less likely friends to unlikely partners. At first I was skeptical when people gush over how "domestic" Solomon acts in OM:NB but- man. I got hooked into the bandwagon and now another white-haired guy has me by the neck and heel.

This is mostly how I base my take on his character when writing anything with him: given the information just as dialogue and lore tidbits. It absolutely doesn't help that Moni over here reminds me of my first lo—

That's all for now, hehe!! I have a lot more to say about this guy buuut, that's for a later time :))

i think the multifaceted nature is exactly the most interesting part about him. i sometimes think that there could be any situation in the game and the devs could make solomon react in multiple ways, and i could still be like "oh yeah that makes sense for him to say that/do that" for all of them (not like every single possible situation but you get what i mean i hope). because. he's like that.

his sincerity is one of the traits i admire the most about him. yes, he tends to wave off more personal questions but i don't think that he's any less sincere or honest about the things he does express just because he's reluctant to divulge too much about himself (the mystery makes him hotter hello)

also is it just me or i have these random moments of realising that this guy's like. insane. and he's toning it down by alot. you could write a list of insane shit he's done and stare in awe at how insane the shit he's done is but like. he acts like this guy. this silly little guy who happens to be crazy powerful but then u realise that he's CRAZY powerful and he could be so much more...harmful and sinister if he wants to be. i know this applies to the others too but like, it's just more interesting for him (AND simeon, they're just two Guys who i think are Actually OP) than for others because it's already like known?? for others?? ig? like, it's sort of ingrained in us but when it's him you just have these lil moments of wait woah yeah

idk what im saying im half asleep

and all that + how he's fully, desperately, madly whipped for mc. he'll give them the universe if they ask for a star but this mf will stay on the sidelines because "oh i don't want to interr-" shut up you soggy waffle ive been waiting with your ring for the past 4 hours and my hands hurt

anyways

everyone live laugh and solomon

[thehalfbloodfreak]

The way Cal literally paused when Zee told him “May the force be with you all” because no one ever says it to him first let alone back to him anymore

[icewindandboringhorror]

Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol

[risuola]

I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.

Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

[skzdarlings]

harmony ; 3racha x reader ; one-shot

masterlist.

porn without plot. you want to have some fun and you know exactly which boyfriend can help get it started.

pairing: 3racha/reader content info: sub!reader, dom!changbin, dom!chan, switch!jisung, polyamorous mmfm foursome (so they’re all involved with each other and interact with each other), very enthusiastic consent with an implied red/yellow/green light system (yellow is employed once).  some rough play (esp with changbin), cnc game that reader initiates, face-slapping, choking, dirty talk, pussy eating, double penetration, blow job, all three holes at once, multiple orgasms, jisung having a monster dick for no reason, aftercare.  (technically no mention of birth control but it’s a long established relationship and you can safely assume it’s taken care of.) 

word count: 5255 words.

enjoy <3

-

When you want to play – really play – you know where to go. 

Jisung can be an overthinker and Chan is always protective, so they hesitate before getting too rough with you. Changbin, however, never holds back.  You know how to touch him, how to smile that particularly provocative smile, how to bat your eyelashes and invite him to play.  

You are thinking about it when he returns from his work-out, muscles straining in his black tank shirt, body damp with sweat, and looking like pure, unadulterated sex.  Chan and Jisung are huddled around a laptop in the living room, their entrepreneurial endeavours a seemingly endless chore, and they are so engrossed in their work they don’t see you leave. 

You sneak off to your room to change, ditching your shorts and underclothes, slipping into one of Changbin’s old t-shirts and absolutely nothing else.  

You intend to hunt him down after his shower, but it’s Changbin who comes to you.  He ambles casually into your bedroom without knocking, comfortable and relaxed and at home.  You have your own rooms for personal space but you all come and go as you please.

Your room is dimly lit with strings of fairy lights, the bed crowded with pillows and teddy bears, not to mention a big strong boyfriend who makes himself at home.  Changbin is dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair blow-dried soft and fluffy, but body as bulky and powerful as ever. 

“Look at this,” he says, holding out his phone.  A sweater you were eyeing has gone on sale so he sits on your bed and buys it for you without hesitation.   He giggles to himself with all that self-satisfied delight, teasing that he is the best boyfriend and your number one favourite. 

He knows the truest harmony lies among the four of you, together, always, but he likes to tease.

You like to tease back. 

“Be careful, you big bully,” you say, because he plops himself down at the head of the bed, knocking a teddy bear over.  You pick it up and aggressively shove it back into place. 

He quirks an eyebrow, his giggling joviality replaced with a studious expression.  He seems to finally notice what you are wearing, blinking his gaze up and down your body as you rearrange the pillows behind him. 

You bat your eyelashes, all playful innocence.

“Don’t be so serious,” he says.  He deliberately knocks a teddy onto the floor. 

You playfully gasp, bending over with a flourish and flashing him. 

“Ah,” he says, putting his phone on your bedside table.  “It’s like that?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, blinking. 

“Hm,” he says, giving you another quick once-over.  “Okay.”  

Changbin hauls you over his shoulder and wrestles you onto the bed.  He puts you on your back, upside down so your head is near the foot.  He climbs right on top of you, not an inch of muscle budging even when you thud your fists against his firm chest.    

“Binnie,” you say, wriggling underneath him, the t-shirt riding up your thighs.  “You’re crushing me, you big mean brute.” 

“Brute,” he says, laughing.  He grabs your hips and pins you to the mattress.  “Tsk.  You like it like that.” 

“No, I – ah!”

Changbin never hesitates.  He knows you will tell him if you don’t like something.  It’s a game of trust, full of an all encompassing love that boasts such tender affection beneath each action.  Being with Changbin is like being nestled in blankets by a warm fire on a snowy winter’s day.  You are sheltered in the storm, feeling that protection even more keenly because of the dangerous cold.    

Between you, there is nothing but heat. 

He gathers the hem of the t-shirt and shoves it up, past the skin of your tummy, exposing your thighs and all the bare softness between them.  Oh, yes, all softness against his hard body, the thickness of his biceps as he holds you down, his big thighs shoved between your open legs, broad shoulders relentless and ungiving even where you smack him repeatedly. 

“Binnie, be careful,” you say, trying to close your legs around his hips. 

You gasp when he puts a hand up your shirt, squeezing your breast in the cup of his palm. His mean fingers immediately find the stiffening peak, thumb tormenting you while you whine. 

You buck as if you want to throw him off, but he is right where you want him and he knows it.  He knows you, your body like a well-loved instrument, his strong hands drawing every musical gasp and sigh out of you. 

“Where’s your panties, hm?” he asks.  Undeterred by your continuous bucking and writhing, he slides his hands down to your naked hips.  He was slouched half-on top of you but he gets up on his knees now.  He pushes your thighs apart, forcing his hips between them. 

“Shameful,” he says.   He tries to grab your flailing hands to no avail.  You smack his chest and shoulders, dodging the reach of his fingers. 

He smacks your face, a tap hard enough to register the game has really begun, but not so hard to sting for long.  You still gasp, your hands pausing.  It gives him time to work a hand between your open thighs. 

“Ahh—!” 

“Yah, look at you,” he says, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy without finesse or gentleness.  You twitch every time his knuckle rides over your clit.   “Bad girl,” he says.  “Who are you so wet for?” 

He gives you no time to answer, scooting back to drag you to the middle of the bed. You are still upside down, your pillows and teddies piled behind him, all the dreaminess of your girly lace bedroom in contrast to his stark masculinity.  It makes your whole body thrum with arousal, hot from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head.  You feel him even where he is not touching you.  

Where he is touching you, you burn, heart erratic with anticipation as he squeezes your thighs, as he shoves your hands out of his way, as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze. 

“Ah – Binnie—!”  You get louder.  Your bedroom door is open.  Chan and Jisung might be focussed on their work, but not for long, not if you keep this up.  Still, to speed things along, you scream, “Chan!  Channie!  Ch—hmmph!”

Changbin shoves a pillow in your face, holding it there, smothering you to soften your shrieks.  His other hand is on your thigh – no, slipping higher, a surface touch through all that wet desire.  Then his blunt fingers are inside you.  You moan into the pillow, clenching around the thrust of his fingers.  You get dizzy quickly, partially because of the pillow, partially his skilled hand. 

He abruptly lifts the pillow.  The oxygen goes straight to your head, as intoxicating as a kiss.  You realize you are close to coming already, hiccupping with all that sudden breath as he fucks his fingers into you. 

Changbin is relentless.   You smack his chest but he ignores it, his strong arm keeping a steady momentum.  An orgasm builds and builds, your fingers hooking into his t-shirt for some leverage.  He puts a hand on your belly and holds you down.  He feels so strong and heavy, utterly unmovable, and it makes falling apart so much easier. 

“Didn’t you have something to say to Chan?” he says. 

You gasp and turn your head.  Sure enough, Chan is standing there, watching you.  Changbin does it on purpose, knowing when you are close, so you look at Chan just as the orgasm crests.  

Chan is standing beside the bed, dressed in his basketball shorts and a sleeveless black shirt, a baseball cap over his curly dark hair.   He must have entered the room while the pillow was on your face, and now he is standing there, watching Changbin hold you down and fuck you with his hand. 

“Channie, please—” you say, then you come all over Changbin’s fingers.  You cry out because he keeps tormenting you, thumb shaking back-and-forth across your throbbing clit.  “Ah, Binnie—Channie, please!”

Chan gives Changbin a look, his eyebrow quirked, then he just leans towards the open door and whistles.  It’s a sharp, high whistle, a call to attention. 

“Han,” he says, not even very loud.  Chan never needs to shove or force or yell.  When Chan says come, you come. 

You always obey Chan.  You throw your head back, gasping as you come a second time.  It is so soon after the first orgasm that it feels like one long, rolling wave.  It continues to shudder through you, even after Changbin slips his hand out. 

The shirt is still shoved up your tummy, soft skin and wet pussy on display.   Chan does not look away, reaching blindly behind himself for your desk chair.  He yanks it closer to the bed and plops down, taking off his cap and tossing it on the floor.   He is bare-faced, expression so open and honest, but a hunger in his eyes that darkens his whole face. 

Changbin just looks giddy.  You look at him as he giggles, that funny little chortle leaving that buff body.  Then you realize he is rolling his sweatpants down. 

“Channie!” you yelp, shrieking and twisting while Changbin licks his palm and strokes his cock, his other hand effortlessly holding you down. 

Chan slouches in the chair.  He props an elbow on the arm-rest and puts his chin in his palm.  His other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts. 

“Careful, baby,” Chan says, seconds before Changbin smacks you again.  It is within your limit, but still enough to turn your head on impact.

Like before, it breaks your concentration, and Changbin takes the opportunity to grab your hips, line up, and shove his cock inside you.  Chan and Jisung always give you a minute to adjust, the size of a hard cock definitely different from fingers, but Changbin never waits.  Even while you wince and complain, he fucks you through it, gripping your hips hard and ignoring your hands pushing against his chest. 

“Too much, Binnie,” you say, even though the sting is quickly passing.  You’re so wet and it makes it easy for him to fuck you.  It even sounds messy, every thrust opening you up, getting you even wetter, the bed creaking as he pulls you onto his cock over and over. 

You look over at Chan who is still watching, the shape of his hand and his dick so clear through the material of his shorts as he fists his cock slowly. 

You hiccup as Changbin switches from long, deep strokes to short, pounding ones. 

At which point Jisung finally walks in, yapping about work, saying, “I was thinking we could postpone the meeting to Monday and—oh, hi, WHAAAT, we’re having sex in here?  All right, man, okay, that’s cool, all right, what’s up.”   

Oh, your sweet Jisung.  He is also in house clothes, black shorts and a sleeveless white shirt, dark hair feathering through his fingers as he runs his hand through it.  He walks further into the room, kicking the door closed behind himself for no reason.  His attention is firmly fixed on you, holding your gaze while Changbin fucks you.  The unmoving intensity of those big brown eyes leaves you tingling, a swoop in your belly that feels as thorough as a good fuck.  It crashes into the feeling of Changbin inside you, makes your whole body get tight so Changbin groans and curses. 

“Oh,” is all you can say.  You cover your face with both hands, gasping when Changbin goes back to longer, deeper thrusts. 

“Heyyy, baby, why are you hiding?” Jisung says in his sweetest voice. 

You hear him approaching, even above the sound of you getting fucked, above Changbin’s little grunts, above Chan cursing.   You feel the dip of the mattress when Jisung climbs up on the bed, sitting near your head.  Then his hands are on your wrists, prying them away from your face.   You try to wrestle them back but he holds them calmly, his own arms boasting a subtle musculature as he pins your hands to the mattress to stop you from moving. 

“Yes,” Changbin says.  “Like that.  Come on.” 

“Jisungie,” you whine, looking down at where Changbin is driving into you, feeling each thrust deeper than your pussy, all the way up to your throat.  You tip your head back, looking at Jisung upside down. 

He leans down, his hair swooping forward, tickling your face as he kisses your forehead and temple. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he says.  Despite his soft voice, he does not lighten his grip, your hands still locked in place.  “Does it hurt?” he asks, wide-eyed. 

“Mmm,” you say, nodding, even while shuddering with so much pleasure that a tear spills down your cheek. 

“Aww,” he says, licking that tear track, making every nerve spasm.  “You’re so cute, baby.” 

“She gets tighter when you choke her,” Chan says.

“Awww,” Jisung says.   He releases one hand to reach for you.  He wraps his fingers delicately around your throat, not even squeezing at first, just a caress as his hand curls around you. 

Your adrenaline naturally peaks, body clenching, just like Chan said.  Changbin groans his satisfaction and Jisung tightens his grip, keeping you pinned by the throat while Changbin goes still, coming inside you. 

“Fuck,” Chan says. 

Jisung releases your throat and you suck in a shaky breath.  It is interrupted when Jisung swoops in, kissing your lips upside down.  You squirm under the confusing messiness of his open mouth at this angle. 

He comes up with a breath, one as shaky as your own, ravished from a kiss.  He runs his hand through his hair and nods to Changbin, saying, “Turn her around.” 

Two pairs of hands find you, manhandling you so easily between them.  You yelp, startled by the movement, as they lift you up and turn you around so your head is in Changbin’s lap and Jisung is now the one between your legs. 

Changbin hoists you into his arms, holds you in the cradle of his bicep as Jisung lays down between your open legs. 

This is one area that Jisung never hesitates to indulge, his open mouth descending on your pussy with ravenous excitement. 

You are so, so sensitive down there, almost numb beneath the first few searching swipes. 

He presses his whole mouth there, moaning as he sucks on your clit then licks up and down, back and forth, around and around.  His tongue rubs where Changbin just came, circling your sensitive hole, pressing there then licking back up to your already throbbing clit. 

“Can’t come again,” you say, not entirely sure if it comes out coherent because your eyes are closed and your brain feels fuzzy.   

He answers with a hum.  He does not seem to be eating you out with the intention of making you come, but purely for his own pleasure as he sucks and licks and tastes.  Despite that – and despite your words – you feel a tightening in your belly, a dull throb that feels too feels too deep to reach. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin says when you start to writhe, his big arm wrapped around your neck, holding you tight to his beating heart. 

The thud of that heart, the relentless flick of Jisung’s tongue, and Chan’s approving nod makes your thighs press around Jisung’s head. 

“Oh—” is your last word before you come again, bucking hard against Jisung’s face.  You gasp and cling to Changbin’s arm. 

Jisung keeps licking at you, not relenting until your gasping whine is more of a scream.   Then he kisses your thighs and hips before pushing himself up onto his knees. 

He and Changbin wordlessly work together, sitting you upright to remove your only article of clothing.   Both pairs of hands find you again, touching and groping and stimulating everywhere. 

You shudder under all the sensation, eyes closing, rocking against nothing.  You are desperate to close your legs to relieve the tension, but Jisung is kneeling between them.  Fortunately, he knows you well, his hand sliding down there, fingers finding you, curling into you. 

“You’re soo wet, baby, it’s embarrassing,” he says.  “You need it that bad?” 

He is still using his sweetest voice, like he doesn’t know he is about to utterly wreck your shit.  Because Jisung always does without very much effort, simply by effect of having the biggest dick you have ever taken.   It is part of the reason you usually can’t start with him, or why he takes his time when you do, because it is an aching endeavour whenever he tries to fit all that inside you. 

Even the bulge in his shorts is obscene, the material rubbing against your thighs.  He brings your hand to that bulge and groans when you squeeze it, saying, “That’s it, that’s it—”

He leans over you.  It sounds like he and Changbin might be kissing above your head, sloppily at that.  Jisung is probably shoving his tongue into Changbin’s mouth, the same tongue that was just inside you as it licked up the mess that Changbin made.   

They press you between their bodies in an envelope of desire, utterly dominating your senses.  Changbin smells like his shampoo, a deep scent like mahogany, while Jisung tends to douse himself in cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a rich, expensive smell.  Beneath all that is that simple sweat, bodies getting worked up, raw sex overwhelming all those other scents. 

You breathe them in, whimpering because you are pressed so tightly between them. You can feel Jisung twitching in your hand and Changbin beginning to stiffen again at your backside. 

 There is a wet pop and a shared gasp when they stop kissing.  Jisung grabs your face and pulls you up, his mouth hot when it claims yours, that stupidly talented mouth making you crazy. 

“Hold her,” Jisung says, speaking against your lips while guiding Changbin’s hands.  Jisung grabs your thighs and pushes them up, not quite folding you in half but almost there.  He knows you need to be open to take him.  Even then, you are already clenching, fluttering around nothing in anticipation.

Changbin holds your thighs back, hands pressed under the curve of your knee.  Jisung hastily shoves his shorts down his thighs, leaving them gathered at the knee.   He touches you and uses your desire to wet his dick, frantically jerking it as if it is not already intimidatingly hard and ready. 

“Jisungie,” you say, already whining, wiping an embarrassing spot of drool as it spills over your bottom lip.  Your body is so eager that it thunders out of control, clenching around nothing, and you can’t seem to stop it.   

Jisung is so mean, just using his fingertip for a second, circling your fluttering hole.  You try kicking him but your ankle manages little more than a flick, your legs trapped in Changbin’s hold. 

“Sorry,” Jisung says, giggling and obviously unapologetic.  He flicks your pouting bottom lip before finally putting the tip of his dick at your entrance. 

The first little bit is always fine.  It feels good to be full, your body needing him, pulling him in.  He rocks back and forth a little, pushing an inch then another, and that’s when your body realizes how much there is, clenching and stretching and burning as he pushes in.   

He goes slow, his whining mouth against your throat.  But then Chan sits on the edge of the bed and touches his back.  He bottoms out quickly and you squeak, eyes closed and breath coming fast. 

You hear Chan say, “Take it off.”   Confused, you blink your eyes open.  Chan is talking to Jisung, tugging his shirt up his back. 

Jisung groans but complies, tugging it over his head with one hand.  The few seconds give you a precious moment to adjust, barely enough before he comes back and starts to fuck you with short, rolling thrusts.   You think Chan is getting Jisung’s shorts out of the way given the jerky way Jisung moves on top of you, but then you are skin to skin with no obstruction. 

“Mmph, yellow – legs,” you say, breaking only briefly to prevent a cramp in your thighs.  Changbin is quick to smooth you out, helping reposition you more comfortably.  

You sprawl flat on your back as Changbin moves away, wrapping your legs around Jisung’s waist without any hindrance.  He holds himself above you, alternatively muttering expletives and cooing sweet nothings at you. 

Changbin sits on one side, Chan the other, both fully clothed despite the obvious strain below their waistbands.  It reminds you a little of the time Changbin topped Jisung while Chan fucked you, the pair of you kissing and touching between them the entire time.   

Today is a little different.  You are at the centre of it all, Jisung inside you, Chan’s hand on your chest and Changbin’s fingers circling your mouth.   You take those fingers when prompted, sucking dutifully, batting your eyelashes up at him while he softly finger-fucks your mouth. 

Chan’s fingers join him, touching your lip.  You open your mouth wider and drool messily around the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” Chan says.  He rips his hand back in sudden needy haste.  “Turn over,” he demands, smacking Jisung on the ass. 

It makes Jisung yelp but he complies.  With some help from Changbin, you roll over until Jisung is on his back and you are on top of him.  Changbin kneels upright too, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, tongue penetrating your mouth as Jisung holds your hips and thrusts up into you. 

Chan grabs the back of your neck, holding you in place while Changbin kisses you.  Chan’s other hand runs down your front, tweaking a nipple and making you mewl into Changbin’s mouth.  You are more panting than kissing by the time Chan’s fingers reach your pussy. 

Jisung slows down just a little, out of breath and whimpering as you clench around him.  This angle makes him feel stupidly deep, your eyes rolling back.  He makes a few small, jerky movements, not even a deep thrust, and it still feels like he his hitting your heart. 

Chan joins the kiss with Changbin.  You are not even sure who is kissing you, just that it is one or the other, back and forth until you are dizzy.  You know it is Chan’s fingers between your legs, the unmistakable pattern of his deft, familiar stroke making you spiral towards another orgasm. 

“Oh, god, she’s – she’s—” Jisung says, squeezing your hips, going still for a minute to stop himself from coming when you do.  He is breathing as hard as you. 

You look down at Jisung, holding eye contact while you come hard on Chan’s fingers. Chan and Changbin are each sucking a bruise into either side of your neck. 

“Fuck,” you say in a watery voice, thighs shaking, hands on Jisung’s abdomen as you lean forward. 

“That’s it,” Chan says, kissing your throat sweetly while Changbin bites you meanly.  Both of them swipe their tongue across the mark they leave behind.  “Jisung,” Chan says, a demand without further explanation.

“Fuck, I know,” Jisung says, slowly moving his hips again. 

It is so quick off your orgasm, it makes aftershocks move through your whole body.  You are a livewire, making every ridiculous sound possible as Jisung fucks you, Changbin kisses you, and Chan gets up behind you. 

Chan runs his hands down your sides, gently bending you forward until you are chest to chest with Jisung. 

“Yup, just like that,” Chan says, rubbing the base of your spine then lower.  His hands cup the curve of your ass, squeezing, tilting your hips just so.  It gives him a good view of Jisung’s cock moving in and out of you, no doubt obscenely wet and messy, as well as exposing the smaller hole in your ass as he spreads you open. 

“Changbin,” Chan says, still with that same confident assurance he will be obeyed no matter what, “Pass me the lube. Bedside drawer.” 

As if you were not already sensitive enough, just hearing those words makes everything clench, which makes Jisung fuck you harder, which makes some place inside you that is so unbelievably soft and tender start to ache. 

“Ah, that sound,” Changbin says when your moans turn to high-pitched whimpers.  He pats the back of your head and reaches for the bedside table. 

After a bit of rustling, he tosses the lube at Chan who catches it easily. 

“One second,” Changbin says while Chan uncaps it.  “She’s gonna come again.  Big one, isn’t it, yes?” 

The fact he knows before you do is a testament to how closely he watches you, how well he knows you.  He is completely right, of course, as Jisung repeatedly pounds into some squishy, vulnerable part of you, so deep and so tender.  You are not sure your clit would even respond if someone tried to touch it, but they don’t need to.   It is enough that Jisung is hitting that place again and again. 

You come with a scream, literally gushing around Jisung as you come.  It takes everything in his willpower not to come, nonsensically begging Changbin to help so he doesn’t finish.  Changbin just grabs him by the throat, much harder than Jisung grabbed you, making Jisung choke out a strangled gasp immediately.  It works, though, as Jisung goes still but stays hard, letting you rock desperately on top of him as your orgasm seems to last ages. 

When it finishes, you are completely boneless.  You slump onto Jisung who takes a breath when Changbin lets go. 

“All right,” Changbin says, smacking your ass.  You hear him kiss Chan quickly.   “Your turn.”

It is a good thing you feel so willowy; it makes it easy for Chan to open you up on his slick fingers.  The few times you have done this, it always took forever, which was fun in its own way, but today it is so easy.  He slides a finger right in, then another, hardly any obstruction as your body surrenders so completely to your boyfriends.

“You gonna take it okay, baby?” Jisung asks, his hands on your sides, holding you steady. 

You look up at him, nodding, and open your mouth with a whine.  He understands, lifting his head, meeting you in a messy, lazy kiss while he rocks slowly inside you.   The kiss only breaks when Chan replaces his fingers with his cock, reigniting every spark in your over sensitized body.  

“Ugh, god,” Jisung says, barely above a breath as he pants against your mouth.  “He’s inside you, baby?” 

You don’t answer because he can probably feel it when Chan is fully inside you.  It takes a second for them to calibrate, find a rhythm that works.   You are not sure if you are more impressed with yourself for taking it so easily this time, or impressed that Jisung has lasted this long and is still coherent enough to keep a steady rhythm. 

“Changbin,” you say, his name a moan on your lips.  You need to feel him too, his hand on your back not nearly enough. 

“Go,” Chan says, groaning, your hips in his hands as he fucks you.  “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” he says.  “Isn’t our girl so good for us?” 

Changbin and Jisung basically just grunt in reply, affirmative but irrevocably distracted. 

Changbin kneels near your head, rubbing the back of your neck and gently guiding you to turn your face.  Jisung swears when you open your mouth, a bit of spit drooling past his own lips as he watches you take Changbin’s cock past your lips.   You mostly just lay there with your mouth open, letting him fuck it rather than really blowing him, but there are no complaints. 

Chan squeezes your ass, a gentle knead that just makes you feel more open, stretched to your absolute limits, so full that you do not know how you will ever be happy without them all inside you.  

It reinvigorates you.  You find strength in your arm and use it to touch Changbin, fist circling where your mouth does not reach.  You get him off first but Chan follows quickly, muttering things like you, tight, perfect, baby, baby, baby.

“Oh god,” Jisung says, somehow still holding out.  When Chan slips out, it gives Jisung slightly more leverage.  He pushes himself upright, letting you slump in his arms and cling to him while he fucks up into you with quick, desperate little uh-uh-uhs. 

Finally, he comes, your name melting into a moan as he buries his face in your neck, mouth open where Changbin left his bitemark. 

They surround you after that and you hum happily, letting them pass you from one pair of arms to the next.  Jisung flops back, running his hands through his hair and catching his breath.  Changbin is there with a cloth of some kind – you think it might be Jisung’s shirt, but Jisung is way past caring – and he gives you a quick and gentle wipe-down while kissing your sleepy brow. 

“I should buy you sweaters more often,” Changbin says, giggling. 

It makes you snort with laughter, blinking up at him with a grin.  “Was gonna fuck you anyway, dummy,” you say. 

“In that case, I’ll buy you another one right now.” 

You giggle when he rubs his nose against yours in a cute little nose-kiss, eyes crinkling with an affectionate smile. 

“Mm, c’mere, sleepy,” Chan says, rightfully as you are still mostly slumped in his arms.  You manage to string an arm around his neck as he scoops you off the bed and holds you against his chest.

You are still a little dazed from so much sensation.   You let your boys take care of you.  After some quick inspection and care, you are plunked in a bath with Jisung to clean and decompress while the other two go strip and re-make the bed. 

Jisung kisses your face while helping you wash, his careful hands and the hot water soothing every achy limb. 

“Totally worth it,” you say, head under his chin, eyes closed and sighing contently. 

Changbin comes to help you out.  By then, you are bright-eyed, sore but in a way that makes you alive.  You feel clean and fresh and loved, bundled up in a robe and then carried off in Changbin’s arms to the living room where food, a comfy couch, and Chan is waiting. 

Jisung joins a moment later.  The laptop is long since closed and utterly forgotten, the four of you snuggling up in a big blanket.  Chan has an arm slung across the back of the couch, your head on his chest, Changbin’s arm around your middle, and Jisung half-asleep where heis  slumped against Changbin. 

“Round two?” Jisung asks then promptly yawns, making you laugh as Changbin playfully smacks him and Chan just sighs an amused sigh. 

Taking the cue from Jisung’s yawn, you close your eyes and snuggle down. 

“Love you,” you say, drifting off to each of them saying it back.  You know one of them will carry you to bed eventually, so you let yourself drift into sleep, safe and warm, happiest when you are all together, just like this, the four of you always in perfect harmony. 

[freyito]

ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ꜝ ⨟ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: this is fun to think about

✧ a/n: for those who don't know exactly what this means (also shoutout to freya the god of love), there are 3-5 'types' of (romantic) love. eros, romantic love, ludus, playful love, pragma, enduring love, and then there's mania which is obsessive love and agape which is universal love. The last two can sorta bend in a familiar or platonic way as well as romantic.

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

✎ wc: 3.3k

⎯ Aventurine

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Aventurine prefers to flirt, to have fun, be a little silly with his love. After all, life’s too short to not enjoy it. He wants a partner who will not only put up with his games but also join in and enjoy it, someone to tease who will tease back. He would love a deeper connection as well, but before that comes fun.

“Honey, I’m hooome~!” Aventurine calls from the apartment door, making his way to the kitchen. You weren’t cooking anything, simply sifting through the fridge for a snack. His arms wrap around your waist as the scent of his near overbearing cologne washes over you. He presses his lips to your neck and peppers it with a bunch of fleeting kisses, mumbling about his day into your skin even though you didn’t ask. When you dared to try and pull away, he only pulls you closer, pinching at your waist and grinning. “Awhhh, are you not happy to see me?”

He doesn’t give you time to reply, hauling you up and turning on his heels. You don’t get to complain, not before he practically throws you on the bed and throws himself onto you. He wastes no time finding your most ticklish spots, waiting for you to ask for mercy. “I want a proper welcome home!” He exclaims, like you hadn't given him enough attention. Not like you can do what he wants while you do your best not to laugh, squirming underneath him, trying to break free from his tickle attack.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Ratio isn’t necessarily the best at showing his affection, he is head over heels for you. Absolutely and irrevocably in love, and it only grows with each passing day. He’s quite the gentleman when you get past his cold demeanor, and is quite by-the-book.

You had met him in his classroom after his classes, to give him the lunch you had made him. He regards you with a brisk ‘mh’, You are used to this reaction, and you don’t take it to heart. He tells you he’ll be home a little later, and apologizes. Silence stretches between you two before you tell him it’s alright and start to leave the room.

“I am sorry, my love,” He grabs your wrist before you can fully turn around. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyes locked on yours as he apologizes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Dinner tomorrow.” He’s so blunt with it, like you have no choice. But he says it with such sincerity, an emotion that is hard to get from him. His eyes linger with yours as you nod, before letting you go and returning to grading his student’s papers.

⎯ Boothill

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Boothill loves with his whole heart, but he just can’t take it seriously. He’s always teasing you, whether it be sultry words, little touches, anything. He loves making you blush.

Tonight, you two are at some bar he had dragged you to, and it’s quite lively. Which gives Boothill ample time to show you off, his arm around your shoulders or your waist whenever someone comes up to talk to you or him. He leans in ever so closer with that toothy grin, eyes half-lidded as he whispers something about how cute you look tonight. When he sees even the tiniest blush begin to bloom, he amps up his flirting tenfold.

Over the entire night, he makes little comments that turn into big flourishes of his love for you, small, teasing touches that trail from your shoulder down to your hands, interlocking your fingers. He leans in close and whispers against your ear, not necessarily just flirts, literally anything he can think of, like that you guys need to put soda on the grocery list or something. It’s the way his breath fans over your ear that causes goosebumps to riddle skin. You try and hide your blushing face, but he grabs your chin and tilts your head to meet his gaze, using his hat to shield your faces from the rest of the patrons and pressing a kiss to your lips.

⎯ Gallagher

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. While Gallagher may not sound like it, he’s romantic by heart and looks for a partner he can spend his life with. He wants to settle down, enjoy something that lasts. And he prefers a partner that does the same.

He was lounging on the couch at home, a rare sight normally. When you walked into the living room, he greeted you with a lazy smile, reaching for you like he wasn’t a 30 something year old man. He grabbed your wrist and guided you into his arms with a yawn, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. He lets out a deep, rumbling ‘mmm’ as he does so, sharing no other words.

Any time you try to break free from his hold, whether you wanna eat or need to go to the bathroom, he groans. He doesn’t say much, whispering quiet ‘love yous’ here and there, and if you really do have to get up, he practically follows you around. He’s rarely ever clingy, he’s probably one of the most independent people you know. He’s only like this when he has something on his mind, and marriage isn’t exactly a far off thought…

⎯ Sunday

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Sunday is a textbook romantic. A dinner and a movie, roses, have you home by ten, he’s the whole package. Anything you could want, you will have. There’s always a fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase in your living room, and perhaps a new poem for/about you every month.

Whatever he gave you in reality, he gave you tenfold in the Dreamscape (especially since he can). This includes his affection, where you two are hidden away… somewhere in Dewlight Pavillion. Somewhere where Sunday promises no one will find you two. It’s not as if you two are doing something lewd, he’s nestled up against your chest, that’s about it. But, he’s been yearning for some time alone with you since forever. With how busy he has been, he hadn’t got a moment alone with you.

“I missed you.” He states. His work is secondary to this moment, as he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm, before nuzzling his cheek into it, all the while his eyes stay on yours. He has you flustered by the way he does it so desperately, yet so… carefully. He needed this, but he didn’t want to allow himself to lose his composure. So, the best he could do was steal you away when you were bringing him his mail, leave you breathless with a few tender kisses and gentle touches, and lead you back to your way out of the Pavillion.

⎯ Argenti

AGAPE ; UNIVERSAL LOVE. Love, devotion, and worship go hand in hand in hand for Argenti. He loves with his heart, body, mind, and soul. He loves unconditionally, every little bit of you, even the ground you walk on. Where the water wet your skin, where the dirt kissed your hands, he loves and loves and loves.

You two are dancing in your kitchen, to a soundless beat. The only rhythm coming from your barely-heard footsteps and the clank of Argenti’s armor as he shares such a moment with you. It is rare that he is home, always out on some adventure across star systems, but it is always a celebration when he is. Atleast, he makes it a celebration. Laughter fills the room as you try your best to keep up with his steps, the man elegant and flawless, as usual, while you stumble just a tick behind.

“You’ve got it, I know you do.” Argenti coos as you do your best to fall into his steps, still stumbling every so often. He dips you down, eyes searching yours with that content smile plastered on his face, before he pulls you up and chest-to-chest with him. His eyes sparkle with mirth, spinning you two around as if your kitchen was a real and proper ballroom, swaying gently. His eyes closed then, humming some tune, a song lost to time that only he remembered. He had hummed it on your longest days and on your darkness nights, the days you weeped and sobbed in his arms, and the days you had turned to him with such a bright smile. A tune that resembled something homely.

⎯Sampo Koski

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. While Sampo can be quite the romantic, he prefers to tease and play with you instead. Sure, he could dance with you all night long, bring you fresh roses everyday, but where’s the fun in that? He finds it much more fitting to flirt with you on end, brag a little about his ‘sales’, splurge a little for you every now and then.

You walk into your bedroom to find Sampo laying on his side, his head propped up with his hand, a rose in his mouth. He gives you a mock-sultry glare while you stand there, dumbfounded, halfway between disgust and laughter. Rose petals decorate the bed, and the room, and you tell yourself that you’ll have to remind him later that he’ll be cleaning it up.

For now, though, he beckons you closer, and when you do, he pulls you onto the bed quickly, spitting out the rose, and peppering your face with kisses. The room fills with laughter as you do your best to break away, but he continues this torrent of kisses, rarely taking a breath. When you complain that ‘it’s too much!’ he only ups the ante, kissing your neck, your shoulder, any exposed skin he can find. You simply just have to accept your fate, now…

⎯ Jing Yuan

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. He who has waited for an eternity yearns for an eternity spent in one’s arms. Jing Yuan has lost most of those dear to him, if not all. While he knows life will reach its end, he cannot help but wish he had someone to spend the rest of it with.

It is very rare for Jing Yuan to be free for even an hour, and yet here he was, a whole day to himself. He’s lounging in his room, basking in the sun while you lay in his arms, reading a book. You two barely share any words, yet the silence between says it all. It’s a comfortable feeling, something that feels like home, something he cherishes every second of. It’s one thing to find home within the Xianzhou, but it’s another to find home in someone’s arms.

He tilts his head as he looks down at the book your reading, contemplating if he wanted to pull your attention away from the book, or not. With a soft ‘hmph’, he makes his decision to leave you alone, choosing to nuzzle into your hair instead. You don’t react, which he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as he closes his eyes. Perhaps an afternoon nap would do him some good…

⎯ Blade

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Not even death could keep Blade away from you. His own suicidal tendencies, his never-ending want to die, his need to die, his own voice begging for a means to an end, it all washes away when he sees your smile, as if the sun is greeting him once more after such a wretched eclipse.

He knows he has loved in the past, and yet when he recalls that feeling, Blade is only met with a burning feeling akin to rage clawing its way through his chest. He prefers to not think about it much, focusing on Elio’s script and whatever mission he’s been dispatched on. Yet, when he’s met with you laying in his bed, messing with his phone, waiting for him, a different kind of feeling weaves its way into his heart. Something warm, a kindling, of sorts.

His own voice quiets when he allows himself to feel that feeling, peace, perhaps? He’s quick to brush it off, shove it down along with any other emotion that was daring to well up, and takes a seat next to you. When you look up and beckon him closer, he doesn’t accept. But, he does lean in, and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. It’s a rare display, you can’t remember the last time he even dared to hold your hand. And before you can question him, he’s gone, out of the room, leaving his phone behind, like always.

⎯ Luocha

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Luocha is quite the romantic when he wants to be. Since he spends most of his time wandering, he doesn’t get to see you very often. But when he returns home, he loves nothing more than to share stories of his travels and hold you in his arms. You are his anchor, what brings him back to reality when his thoughts drift to the distant churches and candle wicks that give way to angry flames…

He finds you sleeping on the couch, phone in hand, twitching every now and then, but making no real reaction to any sound. It was clear that you were waiting for Luocha to come home, and had succumbed to sleep. Luocha had texted you 4 days ago that he would be home, and you yourself had no idea how long you had been up, the past couple of days had skewed your perception of time. By now, it was around 3:00 am.

With a soft huff and an even softer gaze, Luocha scoops you up into his arms and carries you to your shared bed. He’s careful, doing his best to be as quiet as possible as he carries you, but you still wake up. You mutter a slurred ‘Luocha?’, and all he does is shush you, shaking his head and greeting you with a warm smile. You don’t get time to protest as he lays you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. He will join you later, as much as he wants to lay beside you now, he’d like to get settled back in, first.

⎯ Dan Heng

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Dan Heng tends to retreat into himself, a lot. Ever since he revisited the Xianzhou, this has become a habit of his. He doesn’t exactly push you away, but his ‘time to think’ seems to overtake your guys’ alone time. Regardless of it all, he always comes back to you, finding home safe in your arms.

He wakes in the dead of night, his past life’s memories catching up to him once more. He doesn’t cry or scream, his breath is shallow, as he listens to the silence of the hotel you two were staying at. He stills for a moment, the scars of the past fading into a blissful nothingness, before he looks down at you. Sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered by Dan Heng’s sudden awakening.

His body relaxes as his mind quiets finally, the simple sight of you reminding him that the past is the past, and nothing more matters right now. He settles back into bed, taking a moment to admire your face, hesitantly reaching out. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing to your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. You don’t even flinch, but you instinctively curl up closer to him. Dan Heng graces your sleeping form with a rare smile and a huff, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

⎯ Gepard

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Gepard may be shy about certain things, that doesn’t mean he is lacking in the romance department. His job may keep him away from you for quite a while, but he always finds his way back to you.

It had been quite a while since you and Gepard had a proper date, or even night out. Oftentimes, he’d come home late into the night, too exhausted to even eat, and all he would want to do is cuddle up next to you in bed. He loves his job, he truly does, even if it means coming home at near 2 am and waking up at 5 am. Of course he wants to spend as much time with you, but some days are harder than others, and he wants to stay as healthy as he can.

Tonight, however, he’s come home early. At 6 pm to be exact. A completely normal time to get off work… if he wasn’t the captain of the Silvermane Guards. Before you can even ask why he’s home so early, he hurriedly asks you out on a date. His face is only slightly flushed, and the minute you say yes, he lights up like the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. He takes you out to one of the nicest, fanciest restaurants in Belobog, and he just cannot contain the giddy smile all throughout the night. He stares at you as if you are straight out of a movie, eyes practically shining everytime you laugh.

⎯ Caelus

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Caelus doesn’t take himself too seriously, even if there’s a stellaron housed inside of him. So why take love too seriously…? Not that he doesn’t love you, no, he adores you. But between all this trailblazing and saving planets and researching stellarons and what not, he doesn’t get much of a chance to be a little silly. And you, luckily, are his escape from that.

He barges into your room with the brightest smile known to man, his hair a little messy, and what you can only hope is soot dusting his cheeks and hands. Caelus looks so proud. Too proud. In his hands he holds what looks to be a worn out raccoon plushie, also blessed with a heavy dusting of soot. You stare at him blankly as he does not explain himself, simply waltzing over to your bed.

“Our son.” He states, so proudly, as if he had brought the thing into the world on his own. Desperately in need of some fun today, you play along, telling him ‘our son needs a bath.’ And Caelus looks at you as if you have offended his entire lineage (which, apparently, is two people now.) He jokingly chastises you for calling your son ‘dirty’, and “How could you say that to him!?” “He’s just a baby!”. Though, eventually after hours and hours of him threatening to put his sooty hands all over you, he washes the stuffed raccoon. And himself.

⎯ Welt

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Welt has seen lifetimes pass, and lifetimes more come into the universe. He’s vowed to himself to love whoever comes into his life as long as he loves, to love hard and never back down. He dreams of church bells ringing while the scent of roses fill the air, rather than the mournful gong of those ringing bells, signaling someone's end, or the bittersweet smell of lilies.

He holds you closely tonight, practically bathing in your cologne, eyes closed as he hums a tune from some far off timeline. It is a quiet, tender moment, one that is very rare between the two of you. Welt could spend all his time on the Astral Express and still never have enough time for you. He is greedy in that way, seeking any time he can with you, even if it is only for 5 minutes.

He himself doesn’t know why he’s feel especially wanting tonight, but he doesn’t busy his mind asking himself why. Time and space is infinite even as constricting as it feels, and he knows better than to keep himself occupied with such silly questions. The day he catches himself not missing you, yearning for you, is the day that he will wither into stardust.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[cherrynflowergarden]

disgusting(ly in love) || matt sturniolo

an; hiiii my loves how are y'all?? someone please give me some ideas for this i wanna make one for chris too:( this was originally supposed to be for 10 mins but i ran out of ideas and ended up making it 8 mins THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 400 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU ALL<33

summary; a youtube compilation of matt and yn being in love for 8 mins.

tagged; @t1llysblogs

matt was bored. and on youtube. having stumbled upon a video titled "MATT AND YN BEING DISGUSTING(LY IN LOVE)!!!??? tw happy couple (ew)" he decided he had nothing better to do than watch this.

clip one; sleeping beauties

the clip started with nick going down the stairs and screaming for matt. what he didn't know was yn, matt's girlfriend had stayed over.

expecting matt to be awake, he pushed the door open with his vlog camera on.

there laid matt and yn, all cuddled up on the bed. the blanket covered their tangled legs yet the way matt held his girl against his chest was enough to make everyone jealous of the couple. near them mr wrinkleton, matt's pug plushie and ms bubbles, yn's rabbit plushie cuddled too, almost making it look just like the couple in plushie forms.

a small laugh left nick, as he zoomed the camera into their faces.

clip two; twitch stream

matt was streaming on twitch with his brothers while his girlfriend went out on lunch with her friends.

coming back home, yn did not expect to hear shouts from each brother's room. assuming they were only playing video games with each other, she yelled "honeyyyyyy i'm homeeeeee" right as she entered in matt's room. not giving him any time to answer the girl skipped her way to her boyfriend and sat on his lap; all excited to tell him about the latest gossip session she had with her girls.

but that could wait for a while.

he looked so beautiful that she couldn't help but wrap her arms around his neck, giving a sweet kiss on his lips. pulling away she kissed his cheeks and mumbled "god you're so cute".

giggling softly, the boy pulled her face up and said "thank you baby" she was about to say something when chris screamed "OH MY VIRGIN EYES". laughing at the way her eyes got wide, matt explained "we're streaming baby"

clip three; birthday gift

sometimes yn vloged. since the triplets' birthday was coming soon, she decided to vlog the entire process of shopping for the brothers.

twelve minutes into the video, she was all set and ready with meaningful gifts for each brother. once she put all the gifts in separate bags for each brother, she smiled at the camera. "finally. it was such a tiring day. now only one thing is left to do. y'all remember the paints i brought? well we're doing a fun little craft." taking out the red and pink paints, she went to grab a plain black tshirt.

cutting a heart stencil out of a paper, she stuck the paper to the tshirt's back. applying the fabric paint on her lips she started kissing the cloth between the cutout paper heart. applying different shades of pink and red, she filled kisses in the shape of a heart. laughing at her now smudged 'lipstick' she showed the camera her now ready gift.

"gonna let it dry now. i think i will maybe do something in the front also. not sure. will keep you guys updated!!"

safe to say, matt loved his gift so much that he demanded another kiss tshirt so that he could wear her kisses every day.

clip four; beach

this was a short clip from the hawaii vlog. the triplets, yn, maddie and nate where walking to the beach near hotel. well not all of them were walking through.

yn decided she was too tired to walk today and matt being the absolute angel he is, let her to hop on his back as he carried the girl to the beach.

maddie had vlogged matt carrying his girl on his back, humming to whatever she had to say. the camera captured matt listening carefully to his girlfriend as she spoke animatedly about penguins. the last thing the camera captured was yn repeatedly kissing the boy's cheek as he smiled before chris pushed the couple claiming "it was sick to watch people in love"

clip five; beach again

this was a clip from the same vlog as the last. matt and yn were seen enjoying in the water. splashing water against eachother their joyous laughs could be heard.

suddenly matt lifted the girl up, enjoying her screams of fear. dropping her a little, matt laughed harder as his girl tightened her hold on his neck. "matt i swear to god if you throw me in the water" laughing at her empty threats, matt dropped her down a little.

"MATTEW STURNIOLO"

"but baby i love you" he said as he completely dropped her down.

clip six; deaf, mute and blind challenge

yn sometimes participated in the triplets' videos. right now she was a part of the deaf mute and blind challenge. nick and chris were deaf, matt was mute and she was blind.

it was tough to be blind when she was only one who could actually cook something but nothing goes according to her wish, right?

which brings us to this moment. yn, desperately trying to find the bowl which contained the pancake mixture. looking at his struggling girlfriend, matt came behind her and pulled the bowl towards them. putting the whisk in her hand, he grabbed her from behind and helped her whisk the ingredients together. mumbling a small thank you the girl was finally relieved as the process was almost over.

all while nick and chris danced and screamed to doja cat.

clip seven; grwm

yn was filming a get ready with me to go to a date. while she was putting the make up on, her boyfriend entered the room. saying a quick hi to him she turned back to explain her makeup process to her followers.

"—oh y'all need to try this mascara. it's sooooo good. i literally cried—" hugging the girl matt cut off her rant. he squeezed the girl in his arms as she turned around to place a kiss on his cheek. laughing at the bright red stain her lipstick left on his cheeks she tried to grab a tissue to wipe it off. protesting against it, the boy pulled her closer to him.

clip eight; dancing in the snow

the clip was from a random vlog yn posted. it started off with yn putting her vlog camera on the car's bonet and running towards matt. the two, fully covered in wools from head to toe danced in the snow without any music.

matt twirled his girl, a small laugh leaving him as the girl lost balance and collided with him, pushing the two to the ground.

it may seem silly to others, dancing without any music or laughing like madmen in the snow but to them this was the best moment of their life.

as the video ended, matt pouted at the screen. he now missed his girlfriend. he decided to facetime his girl not knowing chris was right behind him and he recorded matt smiling and blushing at moments with his girlfriend. probably this would end up in another compilation of matt and yn being in love.

[utahimeow]

“kenma?”

“hmm?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.

“who was your first kiss?”

it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.

“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.

“ever?”

“ever.”

“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.

“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.

you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.

there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.

“what if i was your first kiss?”

kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.

“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.

“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.

the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.

eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”

your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.

“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”

“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”

kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.

“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”

oh.

now you get it.

kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.

instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.

you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.

“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”

you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”

two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.

“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.

“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.

“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.

“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”

and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.

you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.

also, you’re tipsy.

it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?

you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.

the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.

eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.

you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.

“yeah, we can.”

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Competing With Gods

Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader

Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you

Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.

Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.

Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”

The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”

“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”

She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”

“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”

“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”

“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.

“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”

“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.

As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”

“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”

He just gave her a tight lipped smile.

“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.

Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”

“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”

“He looks 18!” she insisted.

“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”

“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.

Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”

Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.

~

That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”

Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.

When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.

He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.

When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”

He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.

Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.

Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.

So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.

“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.

She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.

Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.

The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.

~

The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.

As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.

“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.

Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.

Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.

“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.

“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.

Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.

“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”

Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.

After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.

The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.

They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.

So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.

While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.

Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.

Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.

“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.

The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”

“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”

The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”

Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.

“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.

Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.

Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.

Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”

Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.

He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?

Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.

That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.

“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”

Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.

“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.

“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.

Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”

She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.

She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”

“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”

“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.

Masterlist

[peaktora]

𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).

a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here

p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!

"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.

your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”

he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."

clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.

you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.

he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."

“what are y—“

“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”

"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.

he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."

you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"

he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."

two can play that game.

“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.

he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.

or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.

"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.

you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”

you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.

“satoru—”

“what happened to nicknames?”

“satoru.”

"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"

"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."

"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”

"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"

“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”

“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.

his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”

“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”

“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”

you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“

he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“

you tsk, making him drop his excuse.

“wh—“

"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.

you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.

before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.

the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.

“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.

"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."

you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”

“i love you more.”

[deadghosy]

☆BEING MATTHEO’S CHILDHOOD FRIEND TO LOVER ☆ male version||female version

COMPLETELY protective over you ever since childhood. He literally fought a kid back then because they didn’t like that you were a “girl” playing boy games with them. You were sensitive back then, so of course you cried to mattheo about it. And mattheo did something about it. He punched the kid and stole their teddy bear to give it to you.

He asks you about girl things so he can flirt and treat a girl better. You could be literally reading a romance book, and he wants to learn too. Please teach him or else he’s gonna whine about losing another girl.

“Sooooo what does a girl like for a guy like me to tap that ass…cause I got a girl on my roster..” mattheo says sliding by you in the library table you sat in. You were literally getting to the good part of where the two main characters were gonna kiss. “Why are you asking me these questions riddle…” you say with venom in your tone towards his last name. Mattheo frowned. “Actually my name from you is Matty, Matt, and matty bear. So please—”

“—Please kill yourself and never let your soul rest after.” You say getting up from the library table and walking away. Mattheo’s jaw drop as he followed you offended. He never interrupted your reading time ever.

When your period comes…he’s asking you “what the fuck that is” and “why is it hurting you” with a frown. He’s thinking he can solve it like any other with a wave of his wand…but it’s more complicated when you explained how your uterus is shredding itself and that’s all you can get out before mattheo started to gag and leave your dorm room like the overdramatic king he is.

He still loves you dearly so he got you tea and some materials you need for the rest of your week.

Sometimes when you two have a sleepover, which is just either of you two sneaking into the girls dorms or the boys. You two gossip like little girls ready to rip someone’s heart out.

Mattheo is 50/50 on you doing makeup on him. But if you really plead and want to do it. He’s gonna let you. He can’t say no to you sadly.

A guy had broken your heart once, so he broke his face in…and broke his dick. Don’t ask.

Couple of girls hated how close you were to Mattheo. He’s a handsome guy, so of course people may spread rumors around. And Mattheo doesn’t really like that, he’s going to the girl and showering her how equal rights have hands.

If you two ever argue, it leads to Mattheo apologizing first. He’s a sucker for you, he doesn’t know why. He just doesn’t want you to be mad at him.

It’s even worst when you talk to anyone else than him.

When you fully ignore him, no texting, no calling, not even talking to you in public and being by you makes him go insane. He’s smoking in the courtyard. Jaw tightened as he eyes you across. He can tell that you know he is staring. He can tell you know indeed when you shift a lot.

The way you feel his burning gaze on you, it made you feel warm. You always loved mattheo, but with him always “going after” girls…you just thought that maybe he wouldn’t love you back.

Jealousy is something mattheo has built into him. He doesn’t know why, so when a ravenclaw student tried to ask you out. He couldn’t stand it. He had to take you away. He couldn’t bare to lose you. He ushered you away from the student, taking you to an empty classroom. He couldn’t handle not being near you, he hated it the most. You are his other part.

He hates it.

“I don’t know who that guy was. But you’re mine. Okay? You’re mine, you always have been even if we both didn’t recognize it. Shit, I know I’m dumb to think to just push my feelings away from you. But I can’t help but love how you are so amazing…” he says slowly at the end. Kissing your head and closing his eyes. You smile slowly. Your heart swell with warmth, taking a deep breath in as you wrapped your arms around him too. You loved him just like how he loves you. He loves you as if you were the made the creation of his favorite food. He loved you like making new potions. He loved you like music to his ears.

He always has been a gentleman before you two dated. He made sure he opened doors for you. He made sure you were comfortable with things. He would even sacrifice his cloaks if you were cold.

He’s like a puppy in love as he just lights up seeing you.

He loves his girl very much. You are the prettiest thing he could ever ask and give for.