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BODYWORSHIP

jude bellingham x reader

jude being absolutely obsessed with the girl he fucks 24/7 (aka you) , loving every inch of her even if she probably enjoys arguing with him more than having sex.

warnings : sex, toxic jude, cussing, pussy eating, over stimulation

not proofread!

ham1lton

LAST NIGHT I HAD A DREAM WE STARTED DATING (AND NOW YOU’RE PISSING ME OFF) !

pairings: jude bellingham x reader, mentions of kylian mbappé x reader and jude bellingham x unnamed gf oc

faceclaim: pinkpantheress <3

summary: you and jude have been in each other’s circles since you were young, but whenever one of you is ready, the other never seems to be.

warnings: jealous jude acting ANNOYING!!!!!

sequel to im not attracted to you like i was (back at the start) !

author’s note: i’m referring to this yn as pink!yn so if u want to see any other headcanons etc. look thru my pink universe tag! also i’ll do one more official part to this so if you’d like to be tagged, fill out my taglist!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by yourbestfriend, erling and 23,927 others.

yourusername: sshhh no talking. i’m busy.

view all comments

erling: hello

-> yourusername: can’t talk here. message me on the jude bellingham app.

aemondssapphire

Gwayne, please come home; I’ve got a warm bath and bed waiting for you.

writtenbylolo

⤷ best assistant ever

masterlist ᯓ★ lo's commentary: hi angels!! quick fic in response to a request i got for the tiktok trend where girls are climbing on their boyfriends in videos to see how they react. had so much fun writing this one!! hope u enjoy <3

pairing: bf!jude bellingham x influencer!reader summary: a relaxed unboxing video turns into complete chaos when you randomly climb onto Jude’s shoulders mid-recording, pranking him with the viral TikTok trend he's oblivious to. he's baffled, but just laughs and rolls with it, holding you up with one arm and chatting to the camera like nothing is happening at all. warnings: suggestive ending referencing f!receiving oral, nothing else. cute + fluffy, whipped boyfriend!jude wc: 2.5k!

You’d been living with Jude long enough now that he’d become blissfully ignorant to the PR packages that would pile up in your bedroom. Piles upon piles of them – wrapped boxes, fancy bags of products or clothes – would turn up at the door and sit there for weeks, untouched. You travelled with him most of the time, had other things on your plate, and honestly, sometimes you just forgot they existed until the pile got so big it became a slight tripping hazard.

But every month or so, you’d sit down and do a massive unboxing of everything you’d been sent. It had become a bit of a thing on your TikTok. Jude once described it as your “Christmas morning” once a month, where you’d rip open packages like an excited kid and show him and all your followers what you’d been gifted.

babikamagazine

your laughter, his memory

warning: nothing

pairing: dean di laurentis x fem!reader

summary: Running into Dean Di Laurentis again wasn't part of the plan. Neither was finding out he remembered you.

author's note: english is not my firts language so please excuse any mistake! now enjoy your reading <3

part 1!

For the rest of the party you were completely out of it. You looked like a zombie, you were so absent-minded. But you couldn't escape your own thoughts when so many things were swirling around in your head.

You were grateful he hadn't recognized you; you didn't want to face everything so suddenly. On the other hand, it broke your heart to know that the future father of your baby didn't remember you.

Damn, it would be difficult with him being part of the same group of friends.

moulinrougemo

she heard — # jude bellingham

synopsis — after reader overhears jude calling her constant presence “annoying,” she quietly distances herself from him and his family. but as the silence she leaves behind grows impossible to ignore, jude realizes the girl he’d taken for granted was the one he’d been falling in love with all along.

# warnings: very faint angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

# wc: 5.9k

# mia’s note: while i finish up the last chapters of amongst it all i wanted to leave one of the things i had written a long time ago but never actually took the time to post. it’s long but i love it so much. reqs are open now for anons to because apparently i had them off?? with sooo much love, mia

masterlist

the first time jude noticed her, she was ten years old and sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor because she insisted the tiles were colder than chairs.

jobe had dragged her inside after school with grass stains on both of their knees and a football tucked under one arm.

“mum!” jobe shouted. “we’re starving.”

his mother looked up from the stove before smiling. “and who have you kidnapped today?”

y/n answered before jobe could. broad smile on her face. “i came willingly.”

jude, thirteen then, barely spared her a glance as he walked through the kitchen toward the fridge.

she, however, watched him like he’d personally invented gravity. and that’s when it started.

it became something everyone noticed eventually. not in the exaggerated way children teased each other, but it was just there. you could notice it without much effort.

whenever jobe invited her over, she’d end up lingering wherever jude happened to be. if jude was practicing free kicks in the garden, she’d find an excuse to sit on the patio with homework she never actually touched. if jude was watching football in the living room, she’d suddenly be interested in whichever teams were playing. if he walked into the kitchen, she’d somehow already be there asking jobe if he wanted a snack.

she wasn’t subtle. never had been. never really tried to be either.

she would ask jude questions no one else did.

“did training go well?”

“what boots are those?”

“did your ankle ever stop hurting?”

she remembered things. too many things. things that the best friend of your younger brother shouldn’t really remember.

one afternoon she looked up from helping jobe with homework and casually said; “you have trials tomorrow, right?”

jude blinked. “yeah.”

“i’ll be rooting for you.”

it was simple and quick. she said it without even expecting a reply. as if just stating something that he shouldn’t need to overthink.

she smiled before looking back down at the maths sheet as though she’d simply commented on the weather.

he remembered thinking that she was weird. not in a mean way, just weird. odd.

because why did she know that?

years passed. jobe and y/n stayed inseparable. jude became a professional footballer. they were basically the same, only older.

the visits never stopped. if anything, they became more frequent.

whenever jude came home during breaks, y/n always happened to be there. helping his mum bake, watching a movie with jobe, sitting outside with headphones around her neck laughing so hard she nearly fell off the garden chair.

it didn’t necessarily mean she was there for him. she really wasn’t. she was there because it was her home now too. that’s how she felt about it.

she’d wave when he walked in anyways. always.

a soft greeting with that sweet smile that seemed to never fade. “hi, jude,” like she’d been waiting for him.

he’d nod, small smile that didn’t always reach his eyes, respond nonchalantly. “alright,” and keep walking.

she never seemed offended. never pushed. never expected conversations longer than a few minutes. but she existed around him close enough to notice, and far enough not to get in the way.

his teammates figured it out before he ever did.

one summer, several of them were staying over while training nearby. jobe had invited y/n around because they were planning to watch a match together.

she walked into the garden carrying chips and lemonade and greet everyone with that same enthusiasm she always carried herself with.

“hi!”

and then she’d look at jude.

“hi,” with a completely different voice. smaller and softer. almost shy.

she had never been particularly shy. kept to herself maybe a little, never nervous in normal settings though.

so it wasn’t a surprise when one of his teammates noticed instantly.

after she disappeared back inside, someone elbowed him. “dude.”

“what?”

“that girl.”

“what about her?”

“she’s in love with you.”

jude nearly choked on his drink, laughing uncontrollably. “no, she isn’t.”

“oh, come off it. you didn’t see the way she looked at you?”

another teammate laughed. “i’ve seen insurance sellers less committed than her.”

jude rolled his eyes, a bit more serious now. “she’s jobe’s friend.”

“exactly.”

“so?”

“so she’s been staring at you for ten minutes.”

“i wasn’t even talking.”

“that definitely didn’t stop her, mate.”

the conversation dissolved into laughter. jude tried laughing too, but it was a different mindset now.

he couldn’t stop noticing.

the way she’d unconsciously turn toward him whenever he spoke. how she’d laugh louder when he made jokes. how she’d immediately ask if he wanted another drink before anyone else. how she always chose the chair closest to him without seeming to realise she’d done it. how she remembered tiny details he’d forgotten he’d ever mentioned.

it was a lot. it wasn’t normal.

then came the teasing.

“oh look.”

“there she is.”

“your little shadow.”

“jude’s biggest fan.”

he denied it every single time. rolling his eyes and drifting the topic to anything else.

“she’s just friends with my brother.”

“mhm.”

“nothing else.”

yet the jokes kept coming. and eventually, they started irritating him.

not because of y/n. she hadn’t done anything wrong. but everyone kept making it into something.

every time she walked over; “there she comes.”

every time she smiled; “oh, she’s looking.”

every time she asked him something; “damn, she’s obsessed.”

he started becoming hyperaware of it. of her, of where she stood, of whether people were watching, whether they were going to make another joke.

instead of simply seeing y/n, he started seeing everyone else’s reactions to y/n.

and resentment quietly settled somewhere it never should have.

it happened during another barbecue.

the house was loud as it usually was. children running through sprinklers and music floating from the speakers with adults talking over one another.

y/n and jobe had gone inside to find ice cream while jude leaned against the fence with three friends.

one of them nodded toward the patio doors. “so, when are you going to tell your girlfriend?”

jude groaned. “for god’s sake.”

“what?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.”

“you sure?”

another snorted. “mate, she follows you everywhere.”

jude rubbed a hand over his face, irritation overflowing. “i know.”

“so?”

he laughed, but there wasn’t any humor behind it. nothing was funny, he just needed the conversation to end.

“it’s honestly…” he searched for a word. one that wasn’t mean but one that could explain the situation. “…annoying.”

possibly the worst choice of wording ever.

his friends were no longer laughing. smiles had dimmed a bit as well. he was being serious.

“i can’t go anywhere in this house without her appearing.”

one of his friends chuckled. “that’s harsh.”

“i’m serious. i walk into a room and she’s there. i go outside and she’s outside. it’s like having a second little sibling.”

another laugh, but jude only shook his head. “i just want one visit where she’s not attached to my side.”

one of them muttered. “damn,” not even being funny. but there was genuinely nothing else that they could’ve said. jude wasn’t being nice.

he shrugged. “i don’t mean to sound horrible, but it gets old,” he looked down at the grass. “i don’t even know why she likes me. i’ve never done anything.”

none of them noticed the kitchen door had opened. or that y/n had frozen halfway through stepping outside. a tub of vanilla ice cream in one hand, spoons in the other.

her smile disappeared so quietly no one saw it happen. not even jude, seemingly too busy speaking his mind.

she stood there for perhaps two minutes. long enough to hear every word and long enough to understand exactly what he meant.

then she turned around and walked back inside without making a sound.

jobe found her standing in the laundry room. she was staring at the washing machine doing absolutely nothing.

“you alright?”

she blinked, being pulled out of her thoughts. “oh. yeah.”

“you found the ice cream?”

“mhm.”

“then why’re you in here?”

she looked toward the hallway.

for a second, jobe thought she’d cry. her eyes did that little thing where they watered, but this time it wasn’t out of happiness like it usually was.

instead, she smiled. “i’m suddenly not very hungry.”

“you sick?”

“no,” she handed him the tub. “you take it.”

“what about you?”

“i think my mum wanted me home anyway.”

jobe frowned. “no she didn’t.”

y/n sighed. “i know,” her smile trembled. “but i’ll pretend she did.”

before he could ask another question, she was gone.

the first few days, jude didn’t notice. not really.

life had a way of swallowing small absences before anyone realized they were gone, and he was fairly busy. like any other footballer was.

training started before sunrise, recovery sessions blurred into media obligations, flights, matches, interviews. by the time he came home, he barely registered that the house was quieter or that there was an absence that was impossible to miss.

it wasn’t until the following saturday. he walked into the kitchen, already expecting to hear two voices arguing over something ridiculous. it was mostly the same thing: jobe insisting pineapple belonged on pizza, y/n insisting it absolutely didn’t. or y/n stealing chips from the cupboard only for jobe to yell; “mum! she took the last packet again!”

but instead there was only silence. just his mother humming while she stirred a pot on the stove.

jude opened the fridge. “where’s jobe?”

“training.”

“and…” he hesitated. “…y/n?”

denise looked up. “oh. she’s not coming over much lately.”

he nodded absentmindedly. “right.”

he grabbed a bottle of water and left. it didn’t really bother him. it didn’t feel strange.

not yet.

then another week passed. then another and another.

and he noticed she’d vanished.

there was no extra backpack by the front door, no shoes kicked off in the hallway, no voice calling “hello?” before she’d even stepped inside, letting herself in like it was her house. no asking his mother if she needed help cooking, and no laughter spilling upstairs because she and jobe had found another stupid video to laugh at.

nothing.

“is y/n busy?” the question slipped out before jude realized he’d spoken.

jobe didn’t even look up from his phone. “dunno.”

“you haven’t seen her?”

he nodded. “i have.”

“so why isn’t she here?”

jobe shrugged. “she doesn’t come over anymore.”

“why?”

another shrug. “says she’s busy.”

that should’ve been enough. people got busy. they grew up and had lives to live. only issue was that y/n had never been too busy. not for jobe, not for his family, and not for him.

his eyes drifted unconsciously toward the empty chair in the garden.

the one she always chose. every single time.

and wondered why he didn’t like that she wasn’t there.

a month. one whole month and he hadn’t even seen her once. not even by accident.

until family dinner. his mother had invited y/n’s parents over, something she’d done for years.

jude almost smiled to himself while walking downstairs. absentmindedly and without questioning why. he just expected things to feel normal again.

expected y/n to already be sitting beside jobe and expected her to grin awkwardly when he walked in.

jobe looked up. “oh, jude’s here.”

she turned and barely glanced at him. “hi.”

just one word. polite, no smile, no dirty look either. but it felt dull.

then she turned straight back to jobe. “did you finish that game?”

“yeah, but you would’ve hated the ending.”

“no spoilers.”

“i wasn’t gonna—”

she laughed. it didn’t look staged or fake. but how dare she? like jude wasn’t standing three feet away.

for the rest of dinner she never addressed him once. if she needed salt she asked jobe, if she wanted another drink she asked his mother, if someone asked the whole table a question she answered everyone except him.

she wasn’t being rude. y/n was never rude. that almost made it worse.

but she was being indifferent. like he’d become another chair in the room.

and he didn’t like that.

his mother noticed first. after dinner she quietly nudged him while washing dishes. “you two alright?”

he frowned. “who?”

“you and y/n.”

“what?”

“she hardly spoke to you.”

“oh,” he shrugged, looking back at the dishes. “didn’t notice.”

his mother gave him a look that clearly said she knew he was lying. but she didn’t push.

the dinners kept happening every few weeks. every single one looked exactly the same.

y/n arrived, hugged his mother, teased his dad, spent an hour laughing with jobe, helped clear plates, thanked everyone, and went home.

jude existed somewhere in the background.

she never sought him out anymore. never accidentally wandered into the same room or asked about training. never remembered his matches.

never looked at him. not really.

and that hurt him more than he’d ever imagined it could.

it became embarrassing how often he caught himself searching for her.

walking downstairs expecting to hear her. coming home wondering if her shoes were by the door.

listening for her laugh before remembering she didn’t come anymore.

then little things started surfacing. tiny things he’d never appreciated.

his mother sighed one afternoon while baking. “i miss her.”

jude looked up. “y/n?”

“mhm.”

“why?”

his mother smiled softly. “she always helped without asking,” denise looked at him. “made tea, set the table.”

“kept me company.”

the house suddenly felt empty. and it was weird because there was definitely people there.

jobe noticed too. though he’d never admit it directly.

one evening jude found him sitting alone in the garden. football balanced between his feet.

“no y/n?”

jobe kicked the ball lazily. “no.”

“you two argue?”

“nope.”

“so?”

“i don’t know,” jobe frowned. “she just stopped coming around, i guess.”

one afternoon jude was cleaning out an old cupboard looking for a charger.

instead he found a tiny notebook. blue cover with dog eared corners.

he flipped it open absentmindedly. he didn’t know who it belonged to, but he laughed at the thought of it being jobe’s.

then he froze.

every page was covered in football fixtures. england matches, champions league nights, training schedules.

written in tiny handwriting with stickers and words highlighted in so many colors.

he recognized it instantly. this was something that belonged to y/n.

there were notes beside certain dates. those were surrounded by extra stickers.

“wish jude luck.”

“ask how recovery went.”

“don’t forget his birthday.”

a folded receipt slipped from between the pages.

he unfolded it and found a photograph. years old with folded corners and faded color.

jobe was making a stupid face, y/n laughing so hard her eyes were closed, and jude. standing beside them looking mildly annoyed because someone had insisted he join.

he couldn’t even remember the picture being taken, but y/n had kept it. all these years.

his chest tightened and his hands trembled slightly.

he carefully slid everything back exactly as he’d found it and didn’t mention it.

that night, he couldn’t sleep.

his friends’ voices echoed through his head.

“she’s obsessed.”

“she’s always around.”

“your shadow.”

then his own.

“it’s honestly annoying.”

he squeezed his eyes shut. he hadn’t just rejected a confession or simply said he wasn’t interested.

he’d mocked y/n’s presence. someone who’d spent years making his family feel warmer. someone who’d celebrated every goal he ever scored. someone who’d never once asked him for anything.

and she’d heard him. he was sure of it.

she’d heard every word.

the realization settled slowly and painfully. it wasn’t just that y/n had stopped following him around or that she’d grown out of him. she’d stopped feeling safe around him.

and he was realizing just now.

a few days later, jobe wandered into jude’s room without knocking.

“you did something.”

jude looked up from his phone, frowning. “what?”

“to y/n.”

his stomach dropped as he put his phone away. “why do you think that?”

“because she won’t come over.”

“so?”

“so she loved this house,” jobe’s voice was unusually serious. “she practically lived here. i ask her every week and she always says no.”

jude swallowed.

“what reason? ‘busy.’ and she’s obviously lying,” jobe looked directly at him. “i’ve known her since we were ten. i know when she’s lying. you did something.”

jude stared at the floor. “i don’t know.”

“liar.”

the words lingered long after jobe left.

jude admitted it to himself. he knew exactly what he’d done.

he just hadn’t realized how much damage one conversation could do. because it wasn’t only her discomfort towards him, but he’d taken his mothers and his brother’s person and pushed them as far from them as he could without meaning to.

it got worse when he started noticing her everywhere.

a café she’d recommended. a song she’d once played in the car. a mug she’d accidentally left behind that his mother refused to throw away.

he’d hear someone laugh in public, turn his head, and feel disappointed when it wasn’t her.

he’d score during a match and look toward the family section without thinking. as if expecting to find one familiar face beaming brighter than the rest.

she wasn’t there. of course she wasn’t.

and every time something inside him sank a little further. so deep it became impossible to deny.

he hadn’t been annoyed by y/n, he’d been annoyed that everyone else noticed her feelings before he did. embarrassed by the teasing. too immature to separate her quiet affection from his friends’ jokes.

so he’d taken his frustration out on the easiest target. the person who deserved it least. the one with the sweetest smile.

and now the silence she’d left behind echoed louder than she’d ever spoken.

by the end of the second month, jude realized something that made him sit awake until nearly dawn.

the house hadn’t become quieter because y/n talked a lot; it had become quieter because she’d filled every room without trying. he just hadn’t understood it until she stopped.

and perhaps the cruelest part of all was that the only reason he finally understood how much she mattered was because he was living in the emptiness she’d left behind.

by the third month, guilt had stopped feeling sharp, but it was heavier. the kind that followed jude everywhere.

it waited beside him in the gym, sat beside him on team buses, appeared in hotel rooms when the television was on but he wasn’t watching.

it even found him during matches. after goals. after victories. during celebrations where everyone else was smiling.

he’d catch himself looking toward the stands.

it was ridiculous. she’d hardly ever come to his matches. she preferred watching from home because she claimed, very seriously, that she got less nervous through a screen.

still he looked. every time. and every time he was met by the same disappointment.

and he had no one other than himself to blame.

“you’ve been weird,” trent dropped onto the bench beside him after training.

jude didn’t bother looking up. “i’ve always been weird.”

“no. you’ve been…” he searched for the word. “…quiet.”

“i’m tired.”

“no, you’re something else.”

jude laughed once, but it lacked its usual warmth. “you sound like my therapist.”

“i’m serious,” trent nudged his shoulder. “did something happen?”

jude almost answered. almost said it aloud.

i broke someone’s heart without even realizing she’d handed it to me.

but he chose to shrug his shoulders. “nah.”

one rainy tuesday, he came home unexpectedly because training had been cancelled.

the house was empty except for his mother, who was sitting at the dining table with a cardboard box.

he walked to where she was and saw what the box had inside. old photographs, birthday cards, school drawings.

jude sat beside her. “what’re you doing?”

“sorting,” she smiled. “i’ve been meaning to for years.”

he reached into the box absentmindedly and pulled out a picture of jobe missing two front teeth. y/n beside him with scraped knees.

himself in the background looking deeply offended because someone had forced him into the frame like always.

his mother laughed. “you remember that?”

“no.”

“you complained for ten minutes. ‘why do i have to be in every picture?’,” she imitated his younger voice perfectly.

jude smiled despite himself.

then another picture. y/n sitting on the kitchen counter, decorating cupcakes. flour all over her nose and denise beside her laughing.

another.

christmas. y/n wearing the paper crown from a cracker while his dad pointed the camera at everyone.

another.

jobe’s birthday. y/n holding the cake looking grumpy because she insisted she’d drop it if she didn’t concentrate.

another.

summer barbecue. y/n asleep on the garden swing with a book resting on her chest.

his mother noticed where his eyes lingered. “she really grew up here.”

jude swallowed. “yeah.”

denise looked back into the box. “i miss having her around.”

he stared at the photograph. “so do i.”

the words came quietly because he hadn’t meant to say them aloud.

his mother looked at him and asked gently. “did something happen?”

the house was quiet for a minute. long enough for rain to become the loudest thing in the room.

“i think…” his voice cracked unexpectedly. “…i think i hurt her.”

his mother didn’t interrupt. she waited the way mothers somehow always knew when silence was more important than questions.

jude rubbed both hands over his face. “my friends kept… making jokes.”

“what jokes?”

he laughed bitterly. “that she followed me everywhere. that she had a crush on me.”

his mother raised one eyebrow. “she did.”

“i know. i know that now,” he shook his head before correcting himself. “i knew then. i just…” he sighed. “i got embarrassed. and one day they brought it up again,” his stomach twisted. “i called her annoying.”

his mother went completely still.

“i said i couldn’t go anywhere without her and that she was attached to my side. that i wanted one visit where she wasn’t around.”

his voice became quieter with every sentence. “i didn’t know she was behind me.”

the rain outside filled the silence as his mother looked down at the photographs scattered across the table.

“oh, jude.”

heartbroken. for both of them. because she knew who her son was, but she also knew who y/n was. sweet and patient y/n.

“she heard all of it?”

he nodded. “every word.”

his mother closed the photo album. “i wondered.”

“you wondered?”

“i couldn’t understand why she suddenly looked uncomfortable here,” she looked toward the window. “i thought maybe she’d simply outgrown us.”

jude felt sick. “no.”

his mother reached over and squeezed his hand. “you owe that girl an apology.”

“i know.”

“no,” she looked him directly in the eye. “you owe her one without expecting forgiveness.”

that’s what was jude was the most scared about. that maybe she wouldn’t forgive him because she really didn’t have to.

he wanted her to anyway.

he spent the next week trying.

twice he drove toward her house. twice he turned around.

every version of the conversation sounded selfish.

i’m sorry because i miss you.

i’m sorry because i realized i like you.

the apology couldn’t be about him. it had to be about what he’d done.

fate, however, had different plans.

it happened at jobe’s match, a local charity event. jude had agreed to come support his brother and he had arrived late.

he stopped abruptly when he saw y/n.

she was standing beside the refreshments table helping hand out drinks to children while laughing at something a little girl had said.

she looked exactly the same and completely different.

she hadn’t noticed him yet. she was smiling with that same charisma she had always had. the one he loved so much but realized too late.

his feet moved before he’d fully decided to.

“y/n.”

she turned and smile slipped gradually. like she’d folded it away.

“oh, hi.”

there it was again. that polite voice. the one she’d started using after that afternoon. the one that wasn’t rude but lacked sweetness.

he hated it.

“can we talk?”

she hesitated and looked toward the children waiting for juice. “i’m helping.”

“i’ll wait.”

she blinked as if she’d expected him to give up. but twenty minutes later she walked over to him.

“what did you need?”

jude suddenly forgot every sentence he’d rehearsed.

“i’m sorry.”

she looked at him. though there was no trace of surprise on her face, she did look as if that was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

“i’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for weeks—months. and every version sounded wrong,” he took a shaky breath.

“you heard what i said, and there isn’t a version of it that isn’t awful.”

y/n stared at the grass between them, unable to look at him just yet.

“i was embarrassed. i let people teasing me become more important than…” he looked at her. “…than your feelings. i spoke about you like you were something i had to put up with when really…” his laugh broke halfway through. “you were just… being kind to me.”

y/n stayed quiet.

“i made you feel unwelcome in a place that felt like home. i took something safe away from you.”

he closed his eyes for a second as he felt his chest tighten. “i’m so, so sorry.”

y/n finally looked up and her eyes were glassy.

“i kept wondering what i’d done.”

his heart stopped. she sounded small. so small. and it was him who had done that.

“i thought maybe i’d been too loud,” she laughed softly through her tears. “or talked too much,” she paused to regain her breath. “so i tried talking less. i thought maybe i bothered your parents. so i started leaving earlier,” her voice trembled. “and then i heard you.”

“i realized…” she shrugged. “…it was just me.”

jude closed his eyes. every word landed like another weight on his chest.

“it was never just you. it was me. i was immature and i was cruel and i hurt someone who had never done anything except care about me.”

she wiped quickly beneath one eye. “i stopped coming because i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable anymore.”

“i know,” his voice sounded barely above a whisper. “and i hate that that’s what you walked away believing.”

she studied him for a long moment. “so what changed?”

the question was fair. of course it was.

“what made you apologize now?”

he smiled sadly. “you disappeared.”

she frowned slightly.

“i don’t mean physically, i mean you disappeared from…” he gestured helplessly. “…everything. the house, my family… my life.”

“my mum misses you, jobe misses you.” he swallowed. “and…” he laughed once. “so do i.”

she didn’t answer. she had no idea what to say. she was hearing things she’d convinced herself would never hear because it wasn’t jude who she had blamed.

“i never found you annoying. i found it embarrassing that everyone noticed you because they noticed before i did.”

y/n frowned. “noticed what?”

he held her gaze. “i stopped looking for reasons you’d always be around and started hoping you would be. so when you left…” he smiled through wet eyes. “it felt like someone had taken all the light out of my childhood home.”

y/n stared at him. searching his face and making sure this wasn’t guilt speaking. making sure this wasn’t pity and he just didn’t want to make her feel more pathetic than she already was.

“you really hurt me.”

“i know.”

“i cried all the way home that day.”

his eyes closed.

“i thought i’d embarrassed myself.”

“you didn’t.”

“i thought…” her voice cracked. “…if the boy i’d liked for years couldn’t stand being around me then maybe i was just…”

she couldn’t finish what she had tried to say. it was too much and there were too many mosquitoes and she didn’t like crying in public.

jude stepped forward instinctively but then stopped himself.

“i’m not going to ask you to forgive me, okay? you don’t owe me that. i’m not even going to ask if you still feel the same. because after what i did, i haven’t earned the right to know.”

y/n looked at him for what felt like forever.

and then very quietly said. “i don’t think those feelings ever went away. i just buried them.”

she smiled softly. but jude felt satisfied when noticed this time it was real.

“for what it’s worth, you were never actually annoying either.”

he laughed. his shoulders finally dropping for what felt like the first time in months. “i can work with that.”

she shook her head, smiling despite herself.

“i didn’t say you were forgiven,” she hesitated. “but i think i’d like to come by your house again.”

jude’s smile softened. “i think mum might actually cry.”

y/n laughed. “i missed her.”

“i know.”

“and…” she glanced at him. shrugging her shoulders. “…i missed you too.”

he stared at her, almost afraid to believe he’d heard correctly.

“so…” he asked carefully. “can i walk you back to the pitch?”

she pretended to think about it. “hm. i suppose. but only because jobe’s probably wondering where i’ve gone.”

he smiled. “and because you don’t want him thinking i’m annoying?”

she groaned, laughing as she lightly nudged his arm. “oh, don’t ruin the moment.”

he caught himself smiling wider than he had in months.

three months later, the bellingham house sounded like itself again.

it happened so gradually that no one could pinpoint exactly when y/n had started letting herself stay until midnight again. or when she stopped asking, “is it alright if i come over?” and simply walked through the front door with the familiar “hello?” like she’d done since she was ten.

denise had cried one evening while y/n was helping wash dishes.

she wrapped her arms around her and whispered. “i’ve missed having you here.”

y/n had hugged her back just as tightly. “i’ve missed being here.”

neither of them mentioned why she’d ever stopped coming. some wounds didn’t need reopening once they’d finally begun to heal.

jobe, however…

jobe noticed everything.

he noticed that jude somehow always knew when y/n was arriving, that y/n unconsciously saved the seat beside her, that whenever jude came home from training, the first person he looked for wasn’t his parents anymore.

it was her.

one evening they were all watching a film, or at least attempting to.

jobe was invested. his father had fallen asleep twenty minutes earlier and his mother was pretending not to.

y/n sat tucked into one corner of the sofa, jude on the other.

that was how it started.

then halfway through the film, jobe reached for the popcorn and paused.

“hang on,” his eyes narrowed. “when did this happen?”

y/n blinked with a small frown. “what the hell are you talking about?”

“you two.”

both of them looked down simultaneously.

without either of them consciously remembering it, they’d ended up shoulder to shoulder. y/n’s legs tucked beneath her and jude’s arm resting lazily behind her on the sofa. their hands intertwined.

y/n immediately let go, but jude didn’t.

he simply looked at his brother. “what?”

jobe stared shaking his head unbelievably. “no. what? when?”

jude shrugged. “a while ago.”

“a while?”

“three months?”

“three months?!”

his voice cracked and his parents woke up.

denise yawned. “what happened?”

jobe pointed dramatically. “they’ve been dating for three months.”

“yes, jobe, i know.”

jobe whipped around. “you knew?!”

“i’ve known since the second week.”

his father stretched casually. “i thought everyone knew.”

jobe looked personally betrayed. “i didn’t know.”

dating jude turned out to be nothing like she’d imagined when she was younger. at ten she’d thought it’d be grand gestures like flowers, fireworks and movie-like moments.

instead it was ordinary. wonderfully ordinary.

it was jude waiting outside her university lecture with two coffees because he’d remembered she’d had an early class. it was y/n bringing dinner to his apartment after late training because she’d noticed he’d forgotten to eat properly.

it was grocery shopping together and somehow spending forty minutes arguing over pasta sauce. it was falling asleep halfway through documentaries neither of them had actually wanted to watch.

it was peace.

no guessing. no pretending she didn’t instinctively drift toward him or that he didn’t instinctively reach for her.

one rainy afternoon she wandered into the bellingham kitchen where denise was.

eventually she spoke. “you know…”

y/n looked over.

“i used to think you’d marry one of my boys.”

she nearly dropped the knife. “excuse me?”

she laughed. “not because you had a crush. i didn’t even know about that until much later.”

y/n hid her face. “oh my god.”

“i just couldn’t imagine you belonging anywhere else.”

that evening jude found y/n sitting on the back garden swing.

the same one she’d fallen asleep on years earlier.

rain had finally stopped and everything smelled like wet grass.

he walked over quietly. “you disappeared.”

she looked up. “i wanted five minutes.”

“without me?”

she smiled teasingly. “i know. terrible.”

he sat beside her and y/n rested her head against his shoulder.

“you know…”

“what?”

“i still catch myself wondering if i’m bothering you.”

his entire body softened. “you really believe that?”

“sometimes,” she paused. “it doesn’t last long but…” she shrugged. “that day stuck with me.”

jude nodded once. “i know, baby.” he reached for her hand. “i don’t expect it to disappear.”

“it shouldn’t,” she looked at him. “you hurt me.”

“i did.”

“and some days i remember it.”

he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “when you do, you tell me. i don’t care if it’s ten years from now.” he kissed the back of her hand. “if i have to apologize for that day for the rest of my life i’ll do it.”

she laughed through watery eyes. “you’d get sick of saying sorry.”

“i don’t think so.” he leaned closer.

a breeze stirred the trees around them.

somewhere inside the house jobe shouted,

“mum, where’s the garlic bread?”

his mother shouted back, “ask y/n.”

y/n laughed instinctively. she looked toward the kitchen windows glowing warm against the evening sky and then she answered just as loudly.

“top oven!”

jobe yelled back. “thank you!”

jude smiled.

“what?” she looked at him.

“it feels like home again.” he kissed her forehead and then he intertwined their fingers. “you’ve always been home.”

this time, when she smiled there was no hesitation behind it. no fear that she’d overstayed her welcome. no instinct to make herself smaller.

because the girl who had once quietly slipped out the back door, convinced her presence was a burden, was gone.

and in her place was someone who knew, with complete certainty, that she was loved. not because she stayed out of the way but because she had always, without realizing it, become part of the family long before she ever became jude’s girlfriend.

the porch light flickered on as the sun disappeared.

inside, someone laughed. jobe yelled something incomprehensible about burnt garlic bread.

his father blamed the oven. his mother blamed jobe.

y/n squeezed jude’s hand. “c’mon. they’re probably setting the kitchen on fire.”

he stood with a grin. “probably.”

she started toward the house and he caught her hand before she could get very far.

y/n turned. “what?”

jude smiled in that quiet, unmistakably fond way that was reserved only for her now. “i’m really glad you came back.”

y/n’s expression softened. “i know.”

she stepped back toward him, rose onto her toes, and kissed him gently. “when you apologized,” she murmured against his lips, “i wasn’t sure if we could ever get back to what we had.”

he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “we didn’t.”

she frowned slightly.

“we got something better.”

she believed him completely.

together, they walked back into the warm, noisy house. where someone was already shouting their names, where dinner was almost certainly burning, and where neither of them would ever again have to wonder whether they belonged.

@ moulinrougemo

passionfruitsz

all eyes on you

jude bellingham x reader

word count: 700+

summary: dating jude bellingham means learning to ignore the cameras, the compliments, and the girls who swear they could treat him better. it's harder than it sounds. good thing jude never gets tired of reminding you who he belongs with.

content: fluff. hurt/comfort. jealousy. insecurity. established relationship. kissing.

authors note: this is my first time uploading a fanfic i am so scared soo let me know if theres any misspelling of some sort thank youuuuu

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

you hated football parties.

not because you didn't like football—you'd learned enough from jude to know the difference between a false nine and a number ten—but because every party ended the same way.

girls. beautiful, famous girls. girls who somehow knew exactly how to laugh at the perfect volume whenever jude walked by.

you'd never been the jealous type. at least, that's what you'd told yourself.

then you started dating jude bellingham.

now every notification that mentioned his name made your stomach twist.

you stood near the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring the ice in your drink while jude spoke to a group of teammates across the room. every few seconds someone stopped him for a picture. another handshake. another conversation. he looked over and pointed at you with that tiny nod that meant, i'm okay. are you? you smiled back.

you weren't.

"you're dating him, right?"

you turned to find a girl beside you, glamorous enough to belong on the cover of a magazine.

"yeah," you replied.

"you're lucky." she laughed softly. "i've had the biggest crush on him for ages."

your smile stiffened.

she didn't mean anything by it. she was just talking.

...right?

"oh my god, he's actually so much prettier in person," another girl said.

you looked back toward jude. someone had already wrapped an arm around him for a selfie. then another.

your chest tightened. it was stupid. he wasn't doing anything wrong. he was just existing.

you hated how quickly your brain filled in the blanks anyway.

she's prettier than you.

she's more interesting.

he's probably tired of reassuring you.

before those thoughts could get any louder, you quietly slipped out onto the balcony.

the night air was cool. you counted cars, trees, stars—anything to keep your mind occupied.

the balcony door slid open behind you.

"there you are."

a familiar voice.

jude.

you didn't turn around.

"i thought you'd be inside."

"i was."

"and?"

"...needed air."

he leaned against the railing beside you, and neither of you said anything for a while.

"you do this thing," he finally said.

"what thing?"

"you go quiet."

"i don't."

"you literally disappear emotionally."

you let out a quiet, sarcastic laugh.

"that's dramatic."

"so is walking outside instead of telling me what's wrong."

silence settled between you again.

then—

"talk to me, baby," he whispered.

"i don't like these events."

"i know, my love."

"i don't like how everyone looks at you."

"i know."

"i don't like that they flirt with you even when i'm standing right there."

another pause.

"and i hate that i hate it."

you finally looked at him.

"i sound insane."

"you sound human."

"i trust you."

"i know."

"but i don't trust..." you gestured toward the party inside. "...everyone else."

jude nodded like he'd been expecting exactly that answer.

"you know what i see?"

"what?"

"i see someone who's been pretending she's fine for the last twenty minutes. i also see the girl who stays up until two in the morning helping me recover after matches. the girl who watches game film with me even though she'd rather be watching terrible rom-coms."

he smiled.

"the girl who steals my hoodies."

"i borrow them."

"you've permanently borrowed six, my love."

"they look better on me."

"they actually do."

that earned the smallest smile from you.

"there it is."

"what?"

"your smile."

he reached for your hand.

"i can't stop people from looking."

"i know."

"i can't stop people from having crushes."

"i know."

"but i can decide who i go home with."

his thumb brushed over your knuckles.

"i can decide whose texts i answer first. and i can decide who gets every version of me that nobody else sees."

his forehead rested gently against yours.

"and that's always you."

your eyes stung.

"i wish my brain believed that all the time."

"it doesn't have to."

"what?"

"i'll remind it."

he smiled softly.

"every time you doubt yourself. every interview. every event. every party. as many times as it takes."

you laughed through your tears.

"that sounds exhausting."

"for you?"

he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"never."

when the two of you walked back inside together, jude never let go of your hand. not because he needed everyone else to know you were his.

because he wanted you to remember that he was already yours.

------

authors note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

choxochip

๑º IT SLIPPED OUT (pt. 2) ⊱ Jude Bellingham

──── ❝ jude x model celebcrush! reader ❞ ⌞ 1023 wc⌝

synopsis ⪩ Jude embarrassed himself admitting his celebrity crush on the newest rising star and hot topic in the model industry - you. What he didn’t expect is to encounter feelings of reciprocation at their game against Norway.

warnings. . suggestive, use of alcohol/ being tipsy

──── ──── part 1 part 2────

a/n: I hope you like it I tried out a little different stuff this time; I also just tagged anyone requesting a pt. 2 hope thats fine with yall

★

The load roars of the vikings rung through the stadium as soon as the referee blew the whistle and the ball got kicked over the place for the first time this evening.

And that by none other than Jude Bellingham.

The man that had caused quite the fuss about the two of you online without much of your knowledge.

But now you where here. Not just invited by a huge sport brand in general but same exact one that featured Jude in their World Cup commercial.

Even if you were used to the fame by now, you were glad you could bring two friends of yours along and before you knew it the first half was already over.

After you‘ve taken the obligatory Insta pics you sat down again, taking a sip of your drink.

„So… how‘s things with Jude?“ your friend started the topic that you‘ve meant to avoid the whole evening while shooting your other friend a mischievous grin.

„What do you mean ‚how‘s things‘ it’s not like we are talking or anything.“ you replied sounding a little more annoyed about the situation than you actually were.

„You know exactly what we mean. You’re acting like your shipname isn’t a trending hashtag right now.“ your other friend chirped in.

„Cmon guys. You know how the internet works. That was probably a PR thing all along.“

„Maybe… maybe not. But stop acting like you don’t like this.“

You rolled your eyes at her comment but the corners of your mouth turning upwards betrayed you. „Alright, alright you caught me.“

The second half started off and every time Jude had the ball at his feet or attempted to score one of your girls gave you a look.

So when he did actually score his second goal and the decider for England, the stadium including your friends went absolutely nuts. The goal that got them into the semifinals scored by Englands most expensive player and matchmaker - and apparently your admirer.

When the final whistle blew just minutes after the deciding goal the England players all cheered into the crowd and Oasis was blasting through the speakers.

The atmosphere was phenomenal; you felt your heartbeat through your chest and without even supporting them until you just recently developed that little celebrity crush, you could feel your chest beaming with pride. The English team was standing in front of the grand stands in the Miami stadium soaking in the feeling of their win.

After their celebrations with the public came to an end and the stadium started to clear out a bit, some of the players came to the friends&family section right below the Adidas lounge.

And that’s when you saw him. Skin glistening from the sweat, breath still a little uneven but a huge grin spread across his face while he talked to his family. And given your history the next thing was probably inevitable- for a brief seconds your eyes met.

You could see a shimmer of embarrassment- or excitement, you couldn’t pinpoint it exactly and he probably couldn’t either. After shooting him a quiet smile that he returned, your eyes lost each other again.

„Ahh what was that!?“ your friend giggled while elbowing you, ripping you out of your thoughts.

„Liv, I swear if you say one more thing!“ you shot her a glare.

And she didn’t. At least for now. The afternoon came around and you went back to the enormous hotel room Adidas gave. Being famous definitely had its perks.

★

„Ouch- what…?“ A flying shoe hit your leg while dozing off in your bed.

„Cmon get up! The club‘s callin‘us. Miami nightlife is elite alright!?“ Liv said while picking up her heel that landed on you just seconds before. You originally just wanted to edit and post some stories of the game after a well deserved coffee break in the hotel but it turned into an almost-nap if it hadn’t have been for Liv‘s shoe.

So after debating your going out options, you had time and place set and got ready together. You and your friends got dressed and got ready while pregaming and before you knew it your Uber arrived.

694

★

You honestly didn’t remember how many drinks you had or how you ended up here- talking to the person responsible for Englands win today- Jude Bellingham.

Sometime during the night you went to get another round of shots suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. And even before turning around you heard that Brummie accent mix with the loud music blasting through the speakers.

„Felt like I should maybe introduce myself if I already got the opportunity. You don’t get to meet a supermodel everyday, right?“ he tried to open the conversation but the nerves were shimmering through his composed facade.

After a little internal shock you managed to reply and stick out your hand for him to shake.

He took your hand in his and just from the warmth of his hand and the eye contact he held you could feel a hint of butterflies in your stomach.

„Nice meeting you. And congrats on the win as well as the goals.“

After getting to talk to him and doing a bit of small talk you told him you were just about to order another round of shots which he joined into.

„So do you like football?“ Jude spoke to you again after downing the shots with your friends.

„To be honest, not really no. I got invited by Adidas thats why I went.“ You stayed truthful after locking eyes with him again.

„So you don’t usually watch football?“ he started to look a little dissatisfied with your answer.

The loud music and the thumping bass made it quite hard to understand him so you leaned a little closer to him. Due to the heels you were wearing you had the same height but he still shifted like he was about to lean down.

„No I prefer Formula one or Tennis if I got the free time to watch. To be fair I got a pretty packed schedule recently.“

„Yeah I see. So you didn’t know who I was before today?“

„Let’s say I‘ve heard of you in particular before. But it wasn’t really football related.“ a smile crept onto your face.

Judes relaxed facial expression dropped and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. „It’s the Vogue interview, isn’t it?“

Just as you were about to reply, a guy behind you bumped into you. It wasn’t with much force, however added to your tipsy state as well as your heels it sent you straight into Judes chest; his arm curling around your waist to steady you.

„Hey mate, be a little more careful, alright?“ Jude only got a mumble as a response from the guy who was apparently not sober either.

„Are you alright?“ his tone changed to a much softer one compared to just seconds before.

„Yeah yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit crowded in here.“

He hesitated a little before he leaned in towards your ear again „Do you maybe wanna go outside to talk a little more?“

„I would love that actually.“ you gave him a reassuring smile „Lead the way then!“

His face lit up with relief. The hand around your waist prior used to steady you, slid around you and grabbed your hand to lead you out of the club, past all the turmoil.

A cold wall hit you as soon as you walked out. Quite unusual for Miami but you freezing could also be because your boots were the biggest piece of clothing you had on.

„Do you want my jacket?“ Jude asked holding up his other arm were a black, sleek Louis Vuitton jacket was resting. You quickly shook your head. „No that’s yours.“

„Nah, don’t worry, I‘ve been carrying it around with me all evening already.“

Slowly he unfolded the jacket and laid it over your shoulders. You were standing a little away from the entrance. Just around the corner where it was a lot less crowded then inside. Even though, the music still could be heard dull in the background.

A comfortable silence settled between the both of you except from the sound of the music and the people talking in the background.

Then suddenly you heard two very familiar voices.

„There she is!“ „No wait, don’t go over!“ Your friends came around the corner backing away again and giggling as soon as they saw your company.

„I think your friends might need something from you.“ Jude said amused but still a little disappointment audible.

Your friends waved you over, a little away from Jude.

And after a brief explanation about your other friend who apparently got wasted and needed to go back to your hotel you decided to go as a whole not wanting to leave anyone alone.

Although you would’ve loved to see where the talk with Jude went you said your goodbyes and were just about to walk to your Uber until you realized you still had his jacket on. Jude interrupted you just as you were about to take it off-

„Oh no keep it on, don’t worry. Wouldn’t want you freezing on your way back to the hotel.“ After a few seconds of internal debating he added „You can just give it back to me the next time.“

„I would actually love that.“ you said with a gentle smile before getting in the Uber, driving back.

★

Back in your hotel room your phone got a notification; you could hear the ping sound while taking off your makeup. When you were done and got back to your bed where you left your phone charging you could see what it said on the screen:

INSTAGRAM judebellingham started following you

a/n: part 3??? I swear I am dragging this

★

taglist: @random34674 @bellinghambabe @aerrdeicall @cigaretesmoke @noybbbb @brune77e @secretlyasnail @horsekoala @ophelia-gone-mad-again @syluss-slut @ilyrox @yourarabkogal @swuzzin @antobooh @bunnydoeprincesspink @luckycharmzzz83 @thecrescentmoonsworld @sandyyybitchesss

(I do not own any characters/ pictures except for the oc in this story)

filmjules

𓏲⋆ TELLING THE OFF CAMPUS BOYS TO GET ON THEIR KNEES WHEN THEY ASK FOR SOMETHING ( cw: suggestive/explicit dialogue & topics, no smut )

DEAN DI LAURENTIS

“Babe,” he whined, “Baaaabe.”

You turned around from the stove, facing your annoying boyfriend.

He knew it got on your nerves when he stood behind you while you were cooking. Especially when he whined the whole time.

So when he asked, “Can I taste test it?” you didn’t immediately shut him down like you normally did.

No, instead you said, “If you get down on your knees and ask, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Why you didn’t expect him to actually do it? Who knows.

He was down on his knees within seconds, his hands pawing at your hips. “Please, baby. Can I please taste test it?”

You had to hold in your laugh, but you felt like he earned it.

Putting your hand on his head and petting him like a dog, you said, “Yes you can, for being such a good boy,” in a very mocking tone.

It didn’t phase Dean one bit though, if anything, he seemed to enjoy it. He pushed his head into your hand like a cat and then stood up with an expectant look on his face.

You rolled your eyes and pulled out a piece of pasta, dropping it directly in his open mouth. He moaned when he tasted it, then gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured against your shoulder, already standing right behind you again.

GARRETT GRAHAM

Garrett had been annoying you all day.

You convinced him to go shopping with you, leaving out the details of where you were going and how long it would be.

He knew it could take a while, but 3 hours? After the first hour he was complaining at every store. You offered to leave early, but when he saw the small pout on your face he changed his mind.

But that didn’t mean he was going to stop groaning and moping.

When you stopped to look at two different tops, he took it as an opportunity to rest his head on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Garrett...” you trailed off, a subtle warning to do too much in terms of PDA. He hummed, his free hand—the one not holding all of your shopping bags—coming up to rest on your hips.

“I have an idea,” he mumbled, pressing another soft kiss to your shoulder. “Let’s get you some new stuff from Victoria’s Secret. I’ll buy.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding on the black top instead of the white one.

“If you want me to go try on lingerie for you, you’d better get on your knees and beg,” you joked, walking further into the store.

When you stopped to look at a pair of pants, you saw Garrett drop to his knees in the corner of your eye.

“Please, gorgeous. Let me buy you some new lingerie. I’ll be so good from here on out,” he pleaded, his hands pressed together in a praying motion.

Your eyes darted around, seeing the mostly empty store. “Stand up, oh my god.”

He shook his head, “not until you say yes.”

“Garrett.”

“Princess.”

You sighed, “Fine. Now stand up.”

JOHN TUCKER

“Let me eat you out, sweetheart,” Tucker mumbled against your neck, reaching behind you to lock his bedroom door.

“Uh-uh.”

His lips formed a pout, “Please?”

“If you really want to...” you trailed off, seeing the glint of hope in his eyes, “Get on your knees and ask again, then maybe I’ll let you get a taste.”

For a moment he looked surprised, but he did as you said.

He dropped to his knees, pressing feather-light kissed to your bare stomach and thighs. “Can I get a taste of you, gorgeous?” His hands ran up the backs of your legs. “Please.”

You sighed, your fingers playing with his dark curls. “Okay, fine, but hurry up. I wanna feel you inside me as soon as possible.”

“Yes ma’am.”

JOHN LOGAN

“Come with me,” Logan asked as he pulled on his sweatpants, “The gym is so boring when I’m alone.”

You were already standing, putting on lotion as you listened to your boyfriend try to reason with you to go to the gym with him.

“I showered just last night. You want to make me shower again in less than 12 hours?”

He looked up at you and shrugged, a suggestive smirk on his face. “I’ll help you out?”

“Of course you would.”

Throwing his head back, he groaned. “Why does my girlfriend hate me?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, “Tell you what. You get on your knees and beg me to come with, and maybe I’ll go and let you ‘help me out’ in the shower later.”

He was on his knees in front of you within seconds.

“Please come with me, gorgeous. The gym is so much more enjoyable with you there,” he pleaded, begging with the way his big brown eyes were looking up at you.

You clicked your tongue, “Fine. Only because I didn’t actually think you would do that.”

He smirked, standing up and pressing a ‘thank you’ kiss to your cheek. “You underestimate me, baby.”

masterlist

filmjules

⋆˙⟡ BSF!DEAN OFFERING TO HELP YOU OUT AFTER HE FOUND OUT YOU WERE A VIRGIN ꣑ৎ ( nsfw )

“Wait, are you..?” Dean trailed off, sitting up from where he was laid out on the couch. He invited you over for a movie night, claiming he hadn’t seen you in soooo long and you needed to hang out with him again.

Totally unrelated, all of his roommates were at their girlfriends’ places for the night.

You felt your cheeks warm, the thought of verbally admitting you’d never actually had sex far too embarrassing. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to, it had just never happened naturally.

Guys had tried, but it always felt like a bad idea. Like you would regret it after, wishing you’d just taken care of yourself at home.

It wasn’t a religious thing, you weren’t saving yourself for marriage. You just didn’t want to regret it. You only wanted to do it if you were 100% sure and that hadn’t happened yet.

“Well, I mean I haven’t like—” you trailed off, feeling a pit in your stomach. “I’ve done stuff.”

One of his eyebrows popped up, his ridiculously large smile terribly hidden. “Look, I’m not judging. I’m just... Surprised?” his eyes flickered over your body and back up to your eyes. “You’re like, objectively hot.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the knot in your stomach turn to heat. “It’s not like there haven’t been opportunities, jackass. I just don’t want some disgusting douchebag to be my first.”

Dean noticed the way you were fidgeting with your sleeves, avoiding eye contact with him. He felt bad for making you feel uncomfortable but he was genuinely in disbelief.

“Is it like... You want it to be special?” his voice came out softer than before, the humor in it almost entirely gone.

Shaking your head, you told him the truth you’d kept to yourself for years, “No, it’s just—every time I tried, it was like either the guy was gross, or he literally saw me as a fucking fleshlight, or he was trying to do crazy shit, and I’m just scared,” you laughed in self-pity, “I know it’ll probably hurt, and I just want to trust whoever I’m fucking to not hurt me. But that’s not a hook-up thing, and I’m not in a relationship, so...”

There was a long silence between you, the only sound in the house coming from the tv playing whatever comedy movie Dean put on when you first got there.

Dean chuckled to himself a little, “What if... I helped you out?”

You knew Dean was a horny guy, but you wouldn’t in a million years expect him to try to fuck you.

The offer literally had you speechless.

“Look, I don’t mean it in a weird way, okay? But I mean, you know I know my way around a woman. And you can trust me. It’s an exchange between friends, nothing crazy.”

You were starting to consider it, his stupid explanations actually sounding somewhat reasonable.

“What exactly is the exchange? What are you getting out of it?” You weren’t planning on selling your body when you agreed to coming over.

His typical smirk flashed across his face as he replied, “I get to have sex with a girl and not feel like I’m being used as a dildo.”

You snickered, “actually, I think it’s the opposite. I’m literally just using you for your dick.”

“Potato, puhtahto,” he shrugged.

“I thought it was ‘tomato, tomahto’?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning so close to your face that you could feel his minty breath on your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you nodded, “Yeah. You promise it won’t make things weird between us?”

“Pinky,” he stuck his pinky up to you, waiting for you to finish it.

The second your pinky laced with his, his mouth was on yours. He let you start kissing back before he progressed, his hand finding it’s place on your neck. “C’mon, my room,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling away.

You followed him up the stairs, biting your tongue to not make a joke about how you’re special because you get his bed.

But the closer you got to his room, the more nervous you got. Your mind was racing with a thousand issues that could come from this, yet you didn’t want to stop.

The click of the door shutting made it feel impossibly real, the realization that you would never look at his room the same after today invading your brain.

“Stop overthinking it,” Dean spoke, his body so close to yours you were sure you could feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“I’m trying,” you whispered, leaning forward just an inch, closing the gap between you. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell Dean twice.

His lips met yours in a heated kiss, the intensity of it compared to the one downstairs throwing you for a loop. His tongue was in your mouth, yours in his, and his fingers were brushing the skin underneath your waistband.

“Are you sure? Hundred percent?” he asked, pulling back enough to look you in the eyes.

“I’m sure.”

The second the words came out of your mouth, he pulled you closer by your waist, walking you backward until his legs hit the bed and you fell on top of him.

His hands slid up your shirt, the warmth of his fingers against your cool skin giving you goosebumps. “Can I take this off?” he asked, bunching up your shirt in his hands.

“Mhm,” you nodded, putting your arms up to help him pull it off.

You thanked whatever made you choose to wear cute underwear today, because you weren’t originally planning on anyone seeing it, yet here you were.

He leaned forward, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your bare skin. His hands were steady on your hips, pulling you down to grind against him while he worked his mouth on you.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, suddenly thankful for his aversion to wearing a shirt around the house.

You felt his right hand find your bra clasp, a moment of hesitation in him before he unclipped it. “Okay?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s not.”

He rolled his eyes as he pressed another kiss to your neck, this one getting a little bit of extra attention.

The loose bra straps fell forward, exposing your entire chest. Your nipples perked up at the sudden cold air, hardening within seconds. “Jesus, dude, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Is calling me ‘dude’ your way of keeping this friendly?”

He scoffed, throwing your bra on the floor. “No…”

“You’re so weird,” you laughed, “Just, act like you normally would.”

Nodding, he spoke in his low voice, “I can do that.” Then he flipped you over on your back, hovering over you while his lips dragged kisses down your body. “Ever been eaten out before?”

You squeaked when your back hit the mattress, pulling a giggle from your chest as he moved his way down. “Nope, only ever been asked to give head, never to get it.”

“Well, we’re changing that today. Ain’t that right?” he whispered as he pulled your pants off, his warm breath fanning over your barely clothed pussy. “Y’want that?”

You whimpered a pathetic, “mhm,” and nodded, your hole clenching around nothing as he kissed right beside where you needed him.

His fingers dipped in your waistband, pulling it down your legs tantalizingly slow. The anticipation was killing you, your heart beating out of your chest.

He ran his hands up and down your thighs soothingly as he spread you open, his eyes focusing solely on your pussy. You started feeling self-conscious by how long he was staring, trying to close your legs and quit this while you could, but he held you open.

“So wet for me,” he muttered as two of his fingers slid between your folds, gently pressing against your entrance without slipping in. “So fucking pretty.”

“Dean,” you groaned, “Are you gonna do something, or not?”

He clicked his tongue, “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just admiring the view.”

“Mhm,” you sassed.

“Have you ever been fingered?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you tell him, “Yes. Plus my own. A lot.”

His grin widened but he didn’t press on it further, he could always do that later. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe up your folds to get a first taste.

Moaning against you, his constant lapping at your cunt was a feeling you’d never expected to be so good. He wasn’t slowing down, either. Licking, sucking, at one point you even felt his teeth gently scrape against your clit—the feeling oddly good.

You were writhing under him, your back arching off the bed until one of his hands came to press you flat. The other started teasing your hole with just one finger, easily slipping in and out.

Just as he hit a specific spot inside you, his mouth came up to suck harshly on your clit. Your legs shook, almost missing when he added his other finger.

“Fuck, Dean. How are you so—” you cut yourself off with a loud moan, slapping your hand over your mouth.

He pulled away—without stopping his fingers—just enough to look you in the eye and say, “Don’t quiet yourself. Nobody’s home, and I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“Okay. Okay. Jesus fuck,” you whined as a third finger slipped in your soaking cunt, stretching you out.

His fingers were longer and thicker than yours, more skilled than anyone else that’d fingered you before. They were sloppy and lazy and you had to practically teach them basic anatomy.

Dean was already amazing at it.

A tight knot was forming in your core, the familiar feeling of an orgasm building up as Dean relentlessly finger fucked you. “Dean,” you breathed, your fingers finding and gripping his messy blonde hair. “I’m gonna—”

“Uh-huh,” Dean hummed as he licked you through your orgasm, his other hand gripping your shaky thighs.

You gasped a deep breath when he finally let up, trying to direct oxygen back into your brain. “Holy shit, what is wrong with you?” you laughed, throwing your arm over your eyes as Dean sat up, towering over you.

“What?” his lips twitching up like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh or not, “I just gave you the best orgasm of your life and—”

“Says who?”

“Are you saying it wasn’t?”

Your eyes darted to the other side of the room before you replied, “Can you just—”

“You haven’t said a full sentence since I put my mouth on you,” he scoffed, the playful fire in his eyes telling you he wasn’t going to drop this. “Admit it. Admit that was the best orgasm of your life and I’ll fuck you without another word.”

“Want me to scream it out the window too?” you asked, deflecting as long as you could.

He shrugged, a cocky look on his face as he mumbled, “Eh, it wouldn’t hurt.”

Ignoring him, you leaned up, your face lining right up with his very obvious bulge. Your fingers gripped on his waistband, slowly sliding it off to reveal his lack of boxers.

A quiet giggle bubbled out of your chest before you could stop it. “Really? No shirt and no underwear?”

“Dude,” he groaned, ignoring you to finish taking his pants off. “It’s convenient.”

“Were you planning on sticking your dick in me?”

“No! Oh my god. For peeing. It’s convenient for peeing. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

You rolled your eyes, laying on your back. “Okay, I’m ready.”

You could hear him sighing and shuffling around before his huge body was hovering over yours, one of his arms down and rolling a condom onto his already fully-erect dick. “Are you still—”

“Oh my god, Dean. Yes. Please.”

He nodded, lining up his tip with your aching hole. “Y’gotta relax for me. It’ll feel better if you do, okay?”

Nodding, you tried to let your muscles slacken. His lips were back on yours, a deep and controlled kiss that almost distracted you from the stretch of his cock sliding into you.

“Oh, fucking shit,” you strangled out, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure as Dean stilled. You took a deep breath and grabbed onto his biceps, “Okay. Keep going.”

He smirked, biting his lip as he slowly pushed himself further in.

His head fell to your shoulder, pressing his lips to your neck. But this time wasn’t a distraction for you. He needed something to focus on so he didn’t slam himself to the hilt.

Your moans were urging him on, your nails digging into various parts of his upper body. He stopped once he was fully in, feeling the need to check in again. “Does it hurt?”

Shaking your head, you whispered, “Just a little. But a good kind of hurt. I’m okay, really.”

The words seemed to comfort him, his back muscles loosening just a little. “Tell me when you’re ready for me to move.”

He was still pressing small kisses along your neck, eventually moving to your lips for a deeper, messier kiss. Your hand found the nape of his neck, pulling him closer against you.

You whispered against his lips, “I’m ready.”

You could feel him smile against your mouth, his hips starting to back up and come back down. His pace started slow, the pain turning into pleasure as his thick cock rammed into you.

“Fuck. Faster,” you panted, Dean’s actions quickly reflecting your words. He was still holding back, still being gentle, but giving you what you wanted.

His hips snapped back and forth, bringing that very familiar feeling back to your stomach. Dean was back to sucking on your neck, feeling his own orgasm start to build up.

Without warning, his hand slid between your sweaty bodies to rub circles on your clit. That tight knot in your core was already coming undone, your entire body squirming from the pleasure of your release.

“Fuck, I’m gonna...” Dean trailed off as you felt his warm cum fill the condom inside you, riding you through your orgasm.

He pulled out slowly once you’d finished, pressing a small kiss to your lips to distract you from the sensitivity of him sliding out.

Your chest was rising and falling quickly, still trying to catch up to the current moment. “Wow,” you breathed, feeling Dean’s heavy body drop beside yours after he took care of the condom.

“Still don’t wanna admit it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had?”

You scoffed, throwing your arm over his bare chest. “You already know it is, you don’t need that extra ego boost.”

His laugh carried throughout the room, “Yeah, that’s probably true.” You shut your eyes, letting yourself breath for a minute before you went and washed up.

“So... Just to be clear... You don’t regret it, right?”

You shook your head. “No. That was actually really good. I’m glad I waited.”

Hearing his tongue click again, you turned your head to face him. “Y’wanna try shower sex next?”

masterlist

note ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃 i feel like i’m so bad at ending smut cuz it’s so awkward but like wtv 😣 i kinda just realized the request never straight up said that they do it so i’m hoping that’s what they wanted LMAO also ts is not proofread my head hurts so fricking bad rn i cannot be bothered 😪

roxxmo

custody of blood | part II

summary: the seventh day approaches, and you test ormund's restraint. pairing: ormund hightower x targtower!reader content/warnings: 18+ (mdni), SMUT, pussy inspection, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, spanking with belt, male masturbation, forced bathing, nudity, voyeurism, slut-shaming, jealousy, aftercare (...i think?), physical intimidation/rough handling, DADDY ISSUES!!, emotional manipulation, religious abuse and religious guilt, canon-typical incest (cousins), age gap (~20 years), icky guardian/ward relationship, canon-typical misogyny, canon-divergent, no use of y/n word count: 12k (i blacked out around 5k tbh) A/N: surprise!! got this chapter out a bit early! guys...what has this man done to my psyche. i'm writing shit i am not even into but since it's him i'm WET!!! this is a long one and i tried my best to proofread, but i'm sure i've missed some things so apologies if it's a lil wonky! sooo thankful for all the love on part I and i hope part II meets your expectations! mr. roxxmo and i are moving houses (yay!) this weekend so that's why the final part of the series will be a bit later. will try to do headcannons or short oneshots if i have the time, and as usual, if i can get part III out before schedule i absolutely will! <3

← previous chapter MASTERLIST finale → (COMING 7/31)

The feast unfolded as such evenings always did.

Like the rest of the ancient tower, the Great Hall of the Hightower was composed of whitewashed limestone, its vaulted ceiling rising so high that you sometimes wondered where it ended. As children, you and the Hightower boys would race beneath it, shouting up to hear your voices echo through the chamber. Great tapestries of Hightower green adorned the walls, each depicting the house’s victories in battle alongside scenes devoted to the Faith of the Seven. No matter where you went in the Hightower, the Seven followed.

Tonight, the hall was filled with noble houses from across the Reach. Lords and ladies moved between the long oak tables, drinking, laughing, and otherwise partaking in every sort of merriment before the coming days of tiresome discussions of taxes, grains, and preparations for the season’s harvest.

You sat where you always did: at the head table, on Ormund’s right. In the very place once occupied by the late Lady Hightower. You had done everything he asked after the solar. Your women had pressed damp cloths to your tear-swollen eyes and pinched color back into your cheeks. They had laced you into the embroidered sky-blue gown Ormund preferred, its neckline high enough to preserve modesty, yet low enough that anyone seated too near might glimpse the suggestion of your bosom. You had been washed, gathered, and arranged once more into the woman he had made of you, with every trace of your momentary lapse carefully hidden away.

roxxmo

custody of blood | part I

summary: sent to oldtown as a ward beneath your cousin lord ormund hightower's protection, you learn there are some vows that are easier to preach than to keep. pairing: ormund hightower x targtower!reader content/warnings: 18+ (mdni), icky guardian/ward relationship, canon-typical incest (cousins), age gap (~20 years), grooming, religious abuse and religious guilt, emotional manipulation, coercive control, possessiveness, severe power imbalance, forced declarations of affection, physical intimidation/rough handling, parental abandonment, references to childhood neglect, implied sexualized ritual, canon-typical misogyny, canon divergent, no use of y/n word count: 6.8k A/N: i need psychological help for how badly i need this man fr. originally had this planned as a oneshot, but i kept writing more...and more...and more...and felt like i was going to rush through the material if i tried to fit it all in one, so now we have a three-part series that i am very excited for you all to read :) hope you guys enjoy this freak of a man AND to see how freaked out i make these two hehehe! and excited for you all to see what ormund means when he reminds reader it is the seventh day...hmm...wonder what he has in store... also, fun drinking game: take a shot every time reader says "yes, my lord"

MASTERLIST next chapter →

The other side of the bed was empty when you awoke, though the sheets remained warm and rumpled. Eyes still heavy from the lingering seeds of sleep, your hand reached across the mattress, patting until it found the warm hollow of where his body had lain. Ormund was almost always up before dawn.

“Idleness is as plain a sin as vanity or greed,” he liked to say. “It begets indulgence, indulgence begets excess, and excess begets unfaithfulness.”

Unfaithfulness, of course, was inexcusable.

The bedchamber was still dim, with only the first suggestion of morning creeping beneath the shutters. Beyond the walls of the Hightower, you could hear the bells of the Citadel begin their first tolls.

Ormund, as expected, was already kneeling before the small altar in the corner of the room. He wore only his linen sleeping shirt and breeches, and though his back was turned to you, you could see one hand slowly turning the pages of his weathered copy of The Seven-Pointed Star and hear the low murmur of passages he had committed to memory.

capsslutt

Jude Bellingham x Reader - Bittersweet (Smut)

Y/n can't stand Jude but he can see right through her. Things get heated quick during the 2026 World Cup season.

WC: 8.9k (full), making out, grinding (pt 1), unprotected sex, riding (pt 2)

This is part 1, part 2 linked at the end!

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

The atmosphere surrounding the England camp during the World Cup was electric, a whirlwind of media frenzy, high stakes, and suffocating expectations. For Y/n, it was mostly just annoying. Being the sister of one of the starting midfielders meant she had a backstage pass to the madness, and more importantly, a front-row seat to the phenomenon that was Jude Bellingham.

To the rest of the world, Jude was a golden boy, a generational talent who played with a maturity far beyond his years. To Y/n, he was an irritant. It wasn't just the hype—though the constant praise from every sports analyst on the planet was grating—it was the ease of it all. Everything seemed to slide right into place for him. The goals, the fame, the effortless grace on the pitch, and the way he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

And then there was the face. That was the real problem. It was infuriating how genuinely handsome he was, with those sharp features and a gaze that always seemed to be reading her thoughts.

Y/n was leaning against the corridor wall of the team hotel, scrolling through her phone and waiting for her brother, when a familiar scent of expensive cologne and fresh laundry hit her. She didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

"Still looking grumpy, I see," a smooth, melodic voice teased. "How are you?" he asks.

Y/n looked up and met that award-winning smile—the one that graced a thousand billboards and made millions of fans scream. She didn't smile back. Instead, she let out a long, dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt.

"Fine, Jude," she clipped, her voice flat.

Jude chuckled, a low sound that vibrated in the narrow hallway. He didn't move away; instead, he stepped closer, invading her personal space with a deliberate slowness. He loved this. He lived for the moments when he could break through her icy exterior, the challenge of pulling more than a one-word answer out of the only person in the vicinity who didn't treat him like a god.

"Just 'fine'?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. "I feel like we're lacking a bit of enthusiasm here. I just put in a Man of the Match performance, Y/n. A little praise wouldn't kill you."

"I saw the game. You kicked a ball into a net. Congratulations," she retorted, trying to step around him.

roxxmo

just thinking about ormund buying targtower!reader the most beautiful, delicately embroidered, soft little nightgowns...that are also practically translucent.

you're mortified the first time he gives one to you and tells you to wear it to bed. it's completely immodest! you would probably be more covered wrapped in a bedsheet. but the second you hesitate, ormund loses it. he launches into a tirade about how ungrateful you are, after he went to such lengths to choose something beautiful for you. how perverted your mind must be to suggest that he-- your guardian-- would ever purposefully dress you like some common whore. by the time he's finished, you're in tears, broken down in the way he always seems to manage.

so you slip into the gossamer nightgown, turn slowly when he asks you to so he can inspect his gift, and crawl obediently into bed beside him.

you don't understand why he keeps moving behind you later that night, breathing heavily as he pulls you tighter against him.

oh well. you're just grateful he's still willing to hold you.

bambiluu

⊹ . ݁ FORBIDDEN! ── .✦ RUGBY PLAYER!VI

゛synopsis ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ RUGBY PLAYER!VI X COACH'S DAUGHTER HEADCANONS + SNIPPETS ── .✦ COLLEGE SETTING // many students return home or go to their dorms after classes end, but not you. you're the coach's daughter, and that means having to wait for his practices to be over to finally get home and rest your feet. it's not so bad, honestly, not when you get to see and hear sweaty women crash against each other and fight for a win. your favorite isn't just a player on the field, though, and your father's made it pretty crystal clear not to so much as breathe in vi's direction.

but who's to say he has to know?

ᝰ.ᐟ tags; headcanons + snippets, college / modern setting, forbidden relationships, fingering, locker room sex, teasing, sexting, oral sex (r!receiving), player!vi, tribbing, breast/nipple play

⌗ list ; @pathosprit , @scardreams, @catsarebetterthanhumansworld

rugby player!vi who your father explicitly tells to stay away from you. he might not go to the parties the students attend, but he’s no idiot, and he’s had the unfortunate luck to stumble into the locker rooms to lock the place up and find vi with her hand up a cheerleader’s skirt. she’s a player in and out of the field, and everybody knows it.

rugby player!vi who totally ignores what her coach says. she listens to him regarding moves and plays, not her love life. she finds you cute— always seated at the bleachers, reading and finishing your little notes. when she catches you looking, she likes to make a show of wiping the sweat off her forehead with her jersey to expose those ridiculous abs of hers.

“you know,” vi drawls as she leans her side against the fence. she’s drenched in sweat, but cares not for wiping it off her face. “you’re the first who’s stayed and watched me for five consecutive days. i think you’ve got a crush on me.”

“keep dreaming, vi,” you scoff, pointing a thumb your father’s way. “i’ve got no choice but to be here, and you’ll be benched if you keep talking to me.”

“worth the shot,” she shrugs. vi reaches over, snatching your pen and notebook to scribble down on it. her handwriting’s surprisingly neat once she hands it back, but there’s nothing but a series of numbers and a little heart. “text me, yeah? don’t wanna risk my neck every time i talk to you in public.”

such cockiness. yet, you save her number into your contacts.

heartsparasite

req here

worth it

jobe bellingham x childhoofbsf!reader

jude catches you and jobe being close to intimate, when he tells mark and denise you expect suprise but they all expected it including your family!

taglist (tw) : a bit suggestive, caught, childhood bsfs, established relationship, private relationship

jobe had always been there for you.

when you were six, he was the boy who insisted worms deserved names before they were put back in the garden.

when you were ten, he was the one who pushed you on the swings higher than anyone else dared, promising he wouldn’t let you fall.

when you were fifteen, he was somehow still the first person you called whenever something good or horribly embarrassing happened.

somewhere between those scraped knees, movie nights, and borrowing each other’s hoodies without asking.. being best friends quietly turned into something else.

though neither of you knew exactly when. you just knew that one afternoon, while sitting shoulder-to-shoulder watching some awful rom-com, jobe had reached for popcorn at the same time you did causing your hands to bump into eachother.

he looked at you.

“…what?” you laughed.

“…nothing.”

“…you’re staring.”

“am i?”

“yes.”

“…i think you’re pretty.”

“…”

“oh.”

that had been almost eight months ago and now, the two of you were somehow dating. secretly though, not because anyone would necessarily care…

okay, maybe because they definitely would. your parents couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives and his family teased him over literally everything. so you both agreed to keep it between yourselves for a while which had worked surprisingly well.

until today.

“they’re all out,” jobe said, dropping onto his bed. “mum said they won’t be back for hours.”

“hours?” you raised an eyebrow.

“hours.”

you smiled. “that’s dangerous information.”

he grinned right back. “i know.”

you sat beside him, knees brushing together. “so…”

“so?”

“what do you want to do?”

he shrugged dramatically. “well, i was thinking we could revise-“

you burst out laughing. “you’re a terrible liar.”

“worth a try.”

you lightly shoved his shoulder but he caught your hand before you could pull it away, pining you down onto the couch in his room.

“…hi,” he said quietly, hovering above you.

“hi.”

“you’re really pretty.”

“you already used that line.”

“still true.”

your cheeks warmed. “you’re so cheesy.”

“and yet you’re smiling.”

“…shut up.”

instead of listening, he leaned closer “make me.”

“jobe-”

he kissed you before you could finish. it was the kind that made both of you smile halfway through because neither of you could take yourselves seriously.

you pulled away just enough to poke his cheek. “you’re insufferable.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he stole another kiss and when he realised youd given in he starting peppering them all over your face. eventually you were both laughing more than kissing, foreheads resting together.

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “can i tell you something?”

“depends.”

“i think i’ve liked you since we were twelve.”

“twelve?”

“you beat up that kid who stole my football.”

“i did not beat him up.”

“you threatened him.”

“…”

“okay, maybe i did.”

“it was very attractive.”

you snorted. “that’s concerning.”

he leaned in again, wrapping an arm around your waist before dipping once again to kiss you. you let out a content sigh before your fingers tugged at his shirt, urging for him to remove it.

he pulled back, discarding the annoying piece of clothing and you took this as your opportunity to straddle his lap.

he let out a soft groan in response, his hand resting gently against your cheek while yours found the back of his neck. the kiss between you two only deepened, the soft moans from you being swallowed by his mouth.

neither of you noticed the bedroom door slowly opening in the heat of the moment.

“well.”

both of you froze. you immediately pulled away from jobe, who only whined in protest. you turned your head so fast your neck nearly cracked and standing in the doorway was his older brother. jude.

his arms were folded. it was obvious he was trying and failing not to laugh. “am i interrupting…?”

you immediately buried your face in jobe’s shoulder.

“i’m moving countries,” you mumbled.

“fair.”

jobe sighed dramatically. “can i help you?”

“actually,” his brother replied, “i came to ask if you’d seen my charger.”

he looked between the two of you. “…i see you’ve both been…busy.”

“leave.” jobe groaned.

“i mean, i found something way more interesting.”

“please.”

“you know,” he continued, completely ignoring him, “mum’s going to find this hilarious.”

your head shot up. “don’t you dare.”

he gasped dramatically, his hands going up. “oh, she’s speaking.”

you pointed accusingly. “if you tell anyone, i’ll-“

“you’ll what?”

“…hide every charger in this house.”

he blinked. “…that’s actually terrifying.”

jobe groaned. “can you please just go?”

his brother grinned. “absolutely. you can have as much smoochy you want” he reached for the doorknob. “after i tell everyone.”

“NO.”

he was already halfway down the hallway.“mum!”

jobe launched himself off the bed, gently pushing you off. “get back here!”

you followed, trying not to laugh despite the embarrassment. “don’t you dare!”

within seconds the entire house was chaos.

“what’s going on?” mark called from downstairs.

“nothing!” you and jobe shouted in perfect unison.

“they’re kissing!” his brother yelled.

there was a brief silence and then:

“…finally!” mark laughed.

denise’s voice chimed in. “i’ve been waiting YEARS.”

“i literally owe your dad twenty pounds,” mark admitted.

“wait you were BETTING? with my dad?!!” you exclaimed.

“of course we were.”

you slowly looked at jobe. “they all knew?”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “…apparently.”

jude walked back into view, smug as ever. “for the record,” he said, “i guessed you two would start dating before christmas.”

“how much did you win?” jobe asked flatly.

“a decent amount.”

you sighed. “this is the worst day of my life.”

jude shrugged. “i don’t know.” he looked between the two of you with the biggest grin imaginable. “looked like it was going pretty well before i walked in.”

you covered your face. “shut up!!!”

jobe groaned so loudly the whole house heard it. “…i’m never recovering from this.”

“we never are..,” you admitted.

he reached over and quietly laced his fingers with yours anyway. “…worth it?”

you smiled despite everything. “yeah.”

“even with him?”

“especially because now he has embarrassing material for the next ten years.”

jude pointed. “correct…i’m making a wedding slideshow.”

“WE’RE EIGHTEEN!”

“never too early to prepare.”

sinfulpetal

JUDE BELLINGHAM — AIN'T TOO PROUD TO BEG

summary 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ you convinced yourself that being a footnote in jude’s life was better than getting hurt again. you are finally distancing yourself away from jude. but this time, jude bellingham refused to let you go.

warnings 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ unprotected sex, fem reader, jude is begging, crying, plenty of praise, apologising, hair pulling, fingering, slight angst, miscommunication, light choking, soft dom!jude, overstimulation ig, oral, & fluff at the end (7.8k wc)

note 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ wrote this while listening ain't too proud to beg by the temptations, so, there was my inspo. and, boom, there you have it! 50s music always gets me in a jude mood. also, my 3 part series has concluded. i hope this lived up to the hype, i really enjoyed finishing this story and having jude reconcile. THIS IS THE FINAL PART to a 3-part series. you can read PART ONE HERE, and PART TWO HERE.

You couldn’t believe him, which was ironic, really, because this was probably the most believable thing Jude Bellingham ever did.

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