Would u do one in which her and Jude are doing it in his familly home and the whole family is downstairs but they're not aware of the noise they're making. smth like that. thx you!! :)
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Shh
Masterlist
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You really shouldn't have teased Jude earlier. Now you're paying the price—with his family just one floor below.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.6k
Warnings! FLUFF! established relationship, NSFW / SMUT (18+), explicit sexual content, dirty talk, praise, possessive Jude, family downstairs, risk of getting caught, This chapter contains mature themes and explicit content intended for readers 18+.
You should have known better than to tease him at dinner.
Because now the joke's on you.
Now you're pinned beneath him on this too-small single bed—the same bed he's had since he was fourteen, apparently, with a mattress that creaks if you so much as breathe wrong—and his hand is over your mouth, his hips pressed tight against your ass, voice a ruined whisper against your ear.
"You think you're funny, don't you?" Jude's breath is hot against the shell of your ear, as his palm presses firmer against your lips. "Running your foot up my leg under the table like that. Hm?"
You whimper against his hand, and he groans low in his throat.
"Sh, baby. They're gonna hear us," he murmurs against your skin, and the bastard sounds amused.
His hand spans your waist, thumb pressing into the soft dip above your hipbone. He's behind you, chest flush to your back, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh trapped in his ribcage where it presses into your spine. The mattress groans beneath your combined weight. They've got the telly on downstairs, but neither of you want to risk. As much as you enjoy the slight danger, it would be too embarrassing for both of you.
He noses along your jaw, and his lips brush the spot just below your ear that he knows makes you crazy.
"Couldn't even wait till we got home," he murmurs, and you can hear the grin in it. "Just had to have my cock in you, huh?"
His hand slides from your mouth to grip your chin instead, tilting your head back against his shoulder. His eyes are dark in the low light of his childhood bedroom, hal-lidded with pleasure. He presses slow, open-mouthed kisses to your neck.
"Answer me," he says, soft and firm, his thumb dragging across your lower lip.
You blink up at him, dazed. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, wanted to get fucked," you manage, voice barely a breath. "Wanted you."
"That's right," he says, and his hand slides from your chin to wrap loosely around the front of your throat, barely adding pressure. "Couldn't even be good for me at dinner, could you? Had me so hard I couldn't think."
His pace quickens, each one punching a soft sound out of you, ones that you can't swallow back no matter how hard you try. The mattress springs groan in time with his movements, and your eyes fly to the door.
"Jude—"
"I know." His forehead drops to the back of your shoulder, his breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts through his nose. "I know, baby. But you're gonna have to be so quiet for me. Can you do that?"
You nod, but the truth is you're not sure you can.
Not when he's fucking you this good.
His hand tightens slightly around your throat—just enough to make your pulse hammer against his palm—and he shifts his weight. The new angle hits that spot deep inside that only he's ever managed to, and the sound that escapes you is embarrassing.
"Shh, shh, shh," he soothes, but his hips don't stop. If anything, he goes deeper, rolling into you with a slow grinds that have your toes curling. "God, you're so tight. Feel that? Feel how deep I am?"
You do.
The stretch of him, the heat of him, the way his stomach flexes against your lower back with every thrust. Your hand shoots back to grip his thigh, nails biting into the muscle there as you try to push him away, and he hisses through his teeth.
"Uh uh—" He catches your wrist, pins it behind your back, and his voice drops even lower. "Don't run from it. Take it." Your face presses into the pillow, and you bite down on the fabric to muffle the moan that builds in your chest. He lets out a breathless laugh behind you. "That's it. Bite the pillow if you have to." His free hand smooths down your spine, "Good girl."
The mattress betrays you both again with a sharp creak, and you both freeze. His hips still, buried deep. From downstairs, you can faintly hear chatter.
Jude's mouth finds your ear. "They're right there," he whispers, rolling his hips slow. "And you're soaking my cock like this." You clench around him involuntarily, and his whole body shudders. "Oh, you like that, don't you? Dirty girl. Like knowing they could walk up those stairs any second." You shake your head against the pillow, but your body tells a different story.
"Liar," he murmurs, and you can feel his smile against your neck.
His hand releases your wrist, and immediately his fingers find your hip, gripping tight as he starts moving again. Slow, deep thrusts that make sure you feel every inch of him pulling out before sliding back in.
"Baby, please," you breathe into the pillow, and your voice cracks on it.
"Please what?" Jude's voice is a rasp against the nape of your neck, and you can feel his patience fraying at the edges, the controlled rhythm of his hips stuttering just slightly. "Use your words."
"More," you whimper. "Need more."
Jude makes a sound behind you and his hips snap forward hard enough to shove you up the mattress. Your hand slaps against the headboard, "Gonna be the death of me," he moans into your shoulder, "Want it harder?" he asks, though his gentle tone betrays his intentions. "Tell me. Tell me what you need, sweet girl."
"You. Just—more. Please, Jude."
His hand flexes on your hip. "Since you asked so nicely." Then he gives you what you want.
He doesn't hold back after that.
His grip shifts—both hands now, one on your hip and the other pressing flat between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned to the mattress as he pounds into you. The sound of skin meeting skin is obscene in the quiet of this room. The headboard taps against the wall a little too loudly for comfort, and he slows just enough to slide a hand up, pressing his palm flat against the wall above you to cushion the impact.
"Can't have that," he breathes, more to himself than to you.
But he doesn't slow down. He just adjusts, angling your hips up so he can sink even deeper, and the new position has your face pressing sideways into the pillow, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut. His hand finds your hair, fingers tangling in the strands at the root, and he tugs—gentle but firm—tilting your head back.
"Look at me," he says, and it's not a request. Your eyes open, hazy and unfocused, and you find him above you—this man who commands a stadium of thousands, now reduced to gritted teeth and trembling thighs.
"There she is," he murmurs, and his expression is almost pained. "My good girl. Taking everything I give you." His thumb traces down your cheek, wiping at a tear you didn't realize had slipped free. The tenderness of it hits you harder than anything else tonight, and your bottom lip trembles. "Hey," he whispers, softening for just a moment. His hips slow to a deep, grinding roll that makes your breath catch. "You okay?"
You nod, but your voice comes out wrecked. "Don't stop."
Something shifts in his expression at that. His jaw works, and he presses his forehead to your temple, breath warm and uneven against your neck.
"Never," he promises. "Never gonna stop."
His hips pick up again, and you feel a knot tightening low in your belly, building with every drag of him against that spot. Your hand grips the fitted sheet, twisting the fabric in your fist so you can have something to hold onto.
"Jude—" His name comes out cracked and desperate, swallowed by the pillow.
"I know, baby. I feel you," he rasps against your temple. "Feel you squeezing me. Gonna cum for me?"
You can't answer him. You can't do anything except cling to the sheets and try to remember how to breathe. Your body does the talking for you—clenching around him in fluttering waves that bring him closer to the edge too.
"There it is," he barely holds back his moans now. "There she goes. Give it to me. Let go, baby. I've got you." His hand slides from your hair to wrap around your front, pulling you flush against his chest, changing the angle again. His other hand finds yours, fingers lacing together against the mattress, pinning you there. Your back arches, and the knot snaps.
Your mouth opens against the pillow, but no sound comes out. Just a silent, trembling cry that wracks your whole body as your warmwet walls milk him for all he's got.
Jude's breath breaks apart against your neck. "Oh fuck—oh, fuck—" And he's following behind you, burying himself as deep as he can, his hips stuttering through the last few thrusts as he spills into the condom. His hand squeezes yours so hard his knuckles crack, and his whole body goes rigid against your back, trembling, a choked-off moan swallowed by the skin of your shoulder where he bites down to muffle himself.
The silence that follows is deafening.
Jude's weight settles against you, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder. His hand hasn't let go of yours. His fingers are still laced through yours against the pillow.
"I love you," he breathes against your shoulder, and it comes out so quiet you almost miss it.
smut, oral and fingering (fem receives), dirty talk
masterlist , taglist
———————————-
Todays match was quite a thrill, all of Judes games were but the world cup was a million times bigger, alone with the sudden death that came with it. He ended up scoring 2 goals resulting in a win. You were both overjoyed at the fact he was still in it. You got to see him for a bit after, giving him a quick hug and kiss to congratulate him but like usual, you made it back to the hotel while he finished up with his team and interviews post game.
You knew you wouldn't be doing much the rest of the night so you got yourself ready for bed. You wore some boy shorts and a cropped tank top after you got out of the shower. You let your hair air dry while you did your skincare. Once you were all ready to wind down you sat on the hotel room bed on your phone, scrolling aimlessly as you waited for Jude to arrive back.
You finally hear the lock click and you immediately jump out of bed, Jude steps in the door and drops his bags so you can jump into his arms, which you do. "Eek! You did so good today baby." You praise, holding tightly around his neck. A grin tugged on his face, "Thank you sweetheart" He replies, disconnecting the hug to connect your lips. The kiss is deep, you can tell he's proud of his performance today he was just too humble to admit it. You hum into the kiss, already turned on by his sudden dominance. He walked you back towards the bed he makes you sit on the edge before he gets down onto his knees. He begins kissing from your ankle all the way up to your inner thighs, his chocolaty eyes watching your reaction as he does. The heat grew between your legs as you felt him get closer and closer to your pussy.
He moves slowly, pressing a kiss against your clothed pussy causing chills down your spine. He finally removes your pants, your slick already showing to him. "You're so beautiful you know." He says, his voice rich and smooth. You hum in response. He presses against your stomach, pushing you to lay your back against the bed, he lifts your legs over his shoulders, pressing quick kisses against your sensitive inner thigh before he finally latches against your clit. He swirls his tongue against the sensitive bud, eating like a starved man. He makes his way down to your entrance, licking a warm stripe all the way up before he starts licking at your inside. He lapped at you fully, taking everything you gave to him. Your walls fluttered against him, your back arched off the bed as your hips tried to catch more of the pleasure. "Jude." You say in a breathless moan. Your body was unable to fully grasp just how good you felt.
He makes his way back up to your clit, lightly nipping and sucking at you as he enters two of his fingers inside you slowly. A loud gasp escapes your mouth as you feel his fingers curve and pump inside of you. "Jude! Please!" You cry out. You felt the pleasure all the way in your core, you could feel him smirk against you as he heard the noises you were making out of nothing but pleasure. He doesn't stop, he leads you fully to your finish, he took absolutely everything you gave him, he didn't take any of it for granted. "Cum for me baby, make me win twice today. He says, coming up off your pussy and making his way onto the bed. He comes up beside you, his hand against your chin forcing you to look at him. He presses his lips against you in a slow kiss, making you stay focused on keeping the pace. You felt his fingers fully inside you, hitting the spot he knew you liked. His hand held on your neck with light pressure, not anything that was scary or hurtful - he just lingered there.
His pace picks up as he feels you clench against him harder, your euphoria creeping up your stomach quickly. You break the kiss as you feel it approach, your breath begins to escape from you. He makes sure you keep your eyes on him as he leads you to your finish.
Your body fully locks up as you release onto him, your breath creeped back into your lungs as you felt all your pleasure escape. Once it was finished, your body finally relaxed, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He pulled you in for another kiss, the taste of you still on his tongue.
synopsis when it comes back positive, you’re a little scared for jude’s reaction. ✴︎ jude bellingham x fem!reader 𓍼
you stare at the six positive pregnancy tests that lay on the bathroom counter, your brain trying to decide between believing what your eyes see or denying it until your family doctor says “congratulations”.
taking a deep breath, you stuff them between your pads, where you know jude won’t find them.
amidst the world cup, you find out you’re pregnant.
you weren’t necessarily sad, but taken aback. you chewed on your lip, attempting to understand your own feelings.
how were you supposed to tell your boyfriend, who’s currently thriving and arguably one of the best players in this world cup, that you had just found out you were pregnant?
sooner or later, you were certain he’d notice something is wrong. your morning sickness has been addressed a few times. dishes you’ve adored your entire life have started to make you nauseous and disgusted just by looking at it. you couldn’t handle the taste of your beloved cigarettes, which in a way, is probably good for said pregnancy.
as you sit in the hotel room, telling your sister about this anew situation, you hear the door open.
“yeah, and that’s how that goes.” you quickly replied.
your sister paused, not comprehending the sudden, out of context comment. “huh?”
“oh, jude’s here! i’ll talk to you later.” you explain with a nervous chuckle.
“oh,” she says in a knowing tone, “alright, bye. i’ll call you later.”
with that, your older sister hangs up the phone and you stare at your screen for a moment before throwing your phone on the couch.
you glance up at jude, who has a takeout bag in his hand.
“‘sup, baby.” he smiles softly, pressing a kiss against your forehead.
you stand up, giving him a proper kiss on the lips. taking a step back, you curiously take the bag from his hands and peek, “what you got here?”
“just some chinese. i don’t have much time, so i figured takeout was the best option for the two hours we have right now.”
you nod acknowledging, taking a sit. he props down next to you, getting the food out of the bag.
when you gently opened the box, the smell of the noodles hit your nose in a not so pleasant manner.
you flinch slightly, a small crease growing between your eyebrows. jude looked up from his food, slurping his noodles. he noticed the slight disgusted expression on your face, “what’s up with that face?”
“nothing… i’m just not really hungry.”
he narrowed his eyes, suspecting of your behaviour. “right… you texted me forty minutes ago about being hungry.”
“yeah, but i wasn’t hungry for chinese.” you pout, trying to make up excuses for the visible discomfort in your face.
“but tell me,” you continue. “how’s your day been?”
jude opted for ignoring the weird interaction just moments ago. “it’s been fine, the usual. training, medical things, bla bla bla.”
“how’s my beautiful girl’s day been, though?”
you hummed, gathering the earlier memories of your day. “nothing much, really. visited around, bought some little souvenirs. went grocery shopping. have you seen american stuff? they have crazy stuff over here.”
“yeah… so i’ve heard. your day was far better than mine.” he mumbled, already half way his box.
“how so? i did nothing but laze around this place.”
“anything you do is automatically great.”
you roll your eyes, although you can’t keep your lips from forming a smile.
“are you not gonna eat?” he asks while chewing the last of his noddles.
you shake your head, offering your box which he gladly accepted.
around an hour later, you’re laying on the bed, watching a movie chosen by jude. you felt as though you were fooling jude by not telling him what you had discovered just earlier that day.
you glance up at him, whose eyes are focused on the screen. he feels your gaze and looks down at you, blowing a kiss. you smiled and returned it, turning your head back to the tv.
he stares at your side profile a little longer, sensing that you’re hiding something. you were clearly trying to act the part, but you were acting suspiciously weird.
a few minutes go by in absolute silence, the soft voices coming from the television not reaching your ears due to you staring at the white duvet that covered your legs, lost in thought.
you took a deep breath, already feeling your heart beat harder on your chest without even muttering a word. you sat up, turning your body toward jude.
he looks at you as you move, and stares at you confusedly. you looked down at him with an unreadable expression. he didn’t say anything since he assumed you’d speak first.
your mouth opened and closed, opened again and closed again. you close your eyes, inhaling slowly.
you stand up and disappear into the bathroom.
jude watched your figure wander into the bathroom, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. had something happened?
you come back with something in hand, which was hiding behind your back, sitting back on the previous spot.
you paused, before softly dropping two of the pregnancy tests on the bed.
his eyes drop to the your hand. his eyebrows twitched as he picked one of them up and he could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment.
“what is this?” he asked, even thought he knew exactly what it was and what it meant.
two very visible pink lines. he picked up the other one, that read ‘pregnant’.
“a pregnancy test…” you hesitantly replied, your voice so quiet jude barely heard it.
it was now his turn to open his mouth and close it back again. his eyes lingered on the tests his hands were holding, his expression very seriously.
you were about to say something when you saw a grin slowly roll into his face, his eyes lighting up as he suddenly jumped and hugged your body.
you yelp at his abrupt moves, grasping his biceps as you two roll over in bed.
“are you serious right now?!” he exclaimed; clearly very amused by the quiet announcement.
“yes, obviously.” you roll your eyes at his question.
“when did you find out about this?” he asks, pressing soft pecks on your cheeks.
“this morning.”
he nodded softly, just looking into your eyes with a big grin.
“we’re having a baby! oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” he squeals, hugging you tighter.
“you’re crushing me and the baby right now.”
“oh, right, sorry,” he chuckles softly, rolling onto his back and placing you on top of him.
“i’m assuming you want to keep the baby, then?” you questioned, sitting on his hips.
“‘course i do! well, unless you want to abort it.”
“i don’t, i just didn’t know how you’d react.” you shrugged.
he gasped softly, looking at you with an offended look. “are you insinuating i woulda reacted negatively? i’ve been wanting a baby with you for so long.”
you tilt your head, “is that so?”
“since our first day together,” he admitted with a proud smile.
“oh my god, you’re crazy.” you shook your head in disapproval, though you were quite amused by his reaction.
“i hope it’s a girl.” he smiles, his hands rubbing your flat stomach underneath your tank top.
“really? i thought you wanted boys?” you raise an eyebrow, playing with the hem of his tee.
“well, yes. but as of today, i feel as though i am spiritually a girl dad.” he raised his hand, closing his eyes.
“great, because i don’t want boys.” you smirk at him.
“i hope she has your eyes. and your curls. and your brown skin. and your cute nose. and your beautiful lips. and your dimples.” he says, one by one, focusing on each feature as he speaks.
“yeah? what about my amazing, kind personality? and my love for smoking and my hatred for sports?” you tease him with an innocent smile.
he pauses for a second, as if he’s considering your words, “maybe not so much.”
summary: your boyfriend scored two goals against norway in the world cup quarterfinals, so you decide to reward him.
notes: first fic and it’s with jude! had to write this after seeing the game with norway 😛
warnings: smut!
you stood in the stands, cheering loudly. your boyfriend was playing against norway in the World Cup quarterfinals, and you were cheering him on. "bellingham 10" was displayed proudly on your back as your eyes scanned the pitch for him.
there he was. he was running down the field, gesturing to his teammate to pass him the ball. you watched in anticipation as he received the ball, then moved forward, dribbling past two defenders and shooting. the keeper lunged to block it, but the ball slipped past his fingers, touching the net.
you jumped up from your seat in excitement and celebrated with the people sitting next to you. this was jude's second goal, and you were beyond proud of him for it. you also knew that he was definitely going to celebrate with you later that night.
the match ended in a 2-1 win for england after extra time. you waited by the player's tunnel as jude exited the pitch, quickly kissing him and whispering a suggestive “see you after the game”, winking at him before he was pulled away by his teammates to celebrate.
you made your way back to you and jude's hotel room, knowing he would be held back for a little by post game interviews and to finish up with his teammates. while you were waiting for jude, you decided to surprise him with a treat once he got back. you had packed a dark red lingerie set with white lace in your suitcase for this exact reason, in england's colors. you put it on thinking of jude, and you couldn't wait for him to come back.
you were scrolling through your Instagram feed when the lock clicked open, signaling Jude’s arrival. you quickly positioned yourself on the bed, waiting for him to make his way towards the bed.
“baby?” jude called out as he dropped his duffel bag near the door.
he stopped straight in his tracks the moment he saw you on the bed, his eyes appreciating every aspect of you before he smiled that devilish grin of his which had always made your heart skip a beat.
“all for me, huh?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he made his way towards you. you stood up from your position on the bed, grabbing the neckline of his shirt to pull him in.
“you did so good today, jude.” is all you said before you started to pepper kisses along his neck, making sure you paid special attention to the spot where his neck meets his jaw, which made him groan slightly. you made a particularly noticeable mark there before breaking away to make eye contact with jude.
his eyes were already hooded, clouded with lust and desire. he swallowed as you sunk to your knees in front of him, hands already going to pull down his shorts.
“baby..” he practically whispered out as you pull down his boxers down, revealing his already rock hard cock.
“shh.” you reassured him as you make eye contact. “you were so amazing today, jude.” you spat on your hand, spreading it around on his cock before you licked the tip, swirling your tongue around it and tasting the pre-cum. jude let out a low moan at your actions, his hands going to grab your hair and pull it into a makeshift ponytail for you.
you opened your mouth wide and took him inside, letting out a tiny whimper once his cock hit the back of your throat. you gagged slightly, but you focused on breathing through your nostrils before you started to work his cock.
jude lets out a guttural moan as you began to bob up and down, swirling your tongue against his tip before licking the underside of his shaft.
“f-fuck, baby. feels s-so good.” are the only words he managed to get out before you took him in again, working him to his climax. his length hit the back of your throat again, and you moan against his cock, the vibration causing jude to curse under his breath before using his grip on your hair to tug you closer.
your right hand squeezed his balls as your left latched onto his thigh, grounding yourself as you took your mouth away. you spat on his length again before enveloping him inside your mouth again, making his eyes roll back.
you looked up through your eyelashes at him while you were working him, and you’ve never seen a prettier sight.
jude bellingham was reduced to pieces, courtesy of your work. his head was thrown back in pleasure as his hips rutted forward, desperate for more.
“please baby, oh fuck.” are the words he kept on repeating as you continued to pleasure him. it’s as if he’s incapable of thinking of any other words to speak. you could tell that he’s close - his cock twitched in your mouth slightly and his legs trembled, signaling he was about to come.
his hand kept your head still. he was completely vocal now, something you love about him during sex. his moans grew louder and he pulled your head off his cock before pushing you back onto it again. you moaned around him again, helping him reach his climax.
“fuck, baby I’m coming” are his only words before he threw his head back again, moaning as thick, hot ropes of cum shot down your mouth. you did your best to swallow it all, making sure to not leave a single drop anywhere.
jude slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting the two. jude’s eyes softened, a look of love and adoration in his eyes before he smiles at you.
“you did so good, baby.” jude said to you before pulling you up to your own feet.
“round two?” he asks you, raising his eyebrows suggestively. you pull him in for a kiss, and you know for sure that you’re not getting any sleep that night.
You only meant to spend the morning doing absolutely nothing. Your boyfriend, however, has other plans—and apparently no shame whatsoever when it comes to making out with his girlfriend on his parents' sofa.
WARNINGS ◦ sfw content ◦ slow morning makeout with jude there i said it ◦ established relationship bc i'm a lonely bih ◦ detailed descriptions of making out ><
2,892 ━━━━━ drabble jude bellingham x reader
۶ৎ 𝓩 , this is my official ballblr debut... please be kind 😔 i've been spending way too much time on wc twitter lately and those people know how to appreciate fine men, so if this exists... blame them 😝😝
━━━━━ read on ao3
A half-empty mug of coffee sat beside yours, still faintly steaming, while Jude’s was already drained except for the faint ring at the bottom. The blanket you’d pulled over your legs sometime after breakfast had slipped halfway to the floor, one corner pooling near his bare feet. Denise had left earlier for her yoga class; you’d caught her in the kitchen making coffee and the two of you had chatted softly about nothing important while Jude was still half-asleep upstairs. Now the place felt gently emptied out, just the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional distant sound of traffic filtering up from the street below.
You were curled into the corner of the big sectional sofa, legs tucked under you, still in the soft Alo workout set you’d thrown on after your early Pilates class. The fabric was comfortable, slightly sweat-damp from the session, and it smelled faintly of the lavender detergent you used at your own place. Jude lounged at the other end, barefoot in white joggers that rode low on his hips and an oversized black T-shirt that had seen better days. He had one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, the other holding the remote loosely as he scrolled through YouTube with the casual indifference of someone who wasn’t really looking for anything specific.
A football skills compilation started playing, some kid in Brazil doing ridiculous step-overs, and Jude let out a soft huff of amusement, tilting his head. “Look at that touch,” he murmured, more to himself than you, though his gaze flicked your way for half a second. His fingers tapped idly against the cushion near your shoulder, a small unconscious rhythm. You kept scrolling through your phone, smiling faintly at a friend’s story, the comfortable silence stretching between you like it always did on these mornings. No need to fill it.
After a few minutes the video switched to a chaotic British cooking clip, someone attempting to make Sunday roast in what looked like a student kitchen. Jude laughed under his breath, the sound low and easy, and shifted his weight so his leg stretched out, his bare foot nudging gently against your ankle. “You seeing this? Bloke’s about to burn the whole flat down. Reminds me of that time I tried cooking for the lads last year. Disaster.”
You glanced up, lowering your phone a fraction. “You mean the time you set off the smoke alarm making toast?”
“It was fancy toast tho,” he corrected, grinning. His foot stayed resting against yours, warm skin against skin, a casual point of contact that neither of you acknowledged. He reached over without looking away from the screen and stole your phone for a second, tilting it to see what you’d been looking at. “Instagram again? You’re ignoring my superior entertainment over here.”
You snatched it back with a quiet laugh, bumping his knee with yours in retaliation. “Your superior entertainment is a man crying over lumpy gravy. I’m catching up on actual human lives.”
“Harsh,” he said, but his eyes crinkled with amusement. He stretched, the oversized shirt riding up slightly, then settled again, this time scooting a little closer under the pretense of adjusting the blanket. His hand landed lightly on your thigh, just above the knee, thumb brushing once in an absentminded circle before it stilled.
The YouTube algorithm wandered next to a funny animal video, then back to a quick highlight reel of his own goals from last season. Jude watched himself on the screen with a small, self-deprecating shake of his head. “Still can’t believe that one went in. Felt terrible off the boot.”
You set your phone down on the cushion between you, finally giving the screen more attention. The sunlight shifted, warming the side of his face and highlighting the details across his nose that only showed up in certain angle.
Minutes passed like that, easy, unhurried. He commented on the videos occasionally, voice relaxed and expressive, and you offered small replies or teasing jabs that made him chuckle. Jude's hand stayed on your leg, fingers occasionally tapping along to some internal beat only he could hear. At one point he nudged your foot again with his, hooking his ankle loosely behind yours for a moment before letting go, all without taking his eyes off the TV.
Eventually the videos looped into something quieter, a travel vlog through Spanish countryside. Jude’s thumb resumed its slow, unconscious sweep on your thigh. “We should do something like that one off-season,” he said softly. “Just drive somewhere. No schedule.”
You turned your head to look at him properly. He was already watching you instead of the screen, that playful spark still in his eyes but softened around the edges by the lazy morning. “Only if you promise not to turn it into a fitness bootcamp.”
He smiled, slow and genuine, the kind that showed how much he was enjoying his morning off.“No promises. But I’ll let you pick the playlist.” The teasing lilt in his voice lingered, and something in the way you held his gaze made the moment stretch.
You raised an eyebrow. “Let me? Generous of you.”
That earned a quiet laugh from him, warm and close. He leaned in just a fraction, as if to deliver another retort, but the words didn’t come. Instead the look held: comfortable, familiar, the kind built from nights spent side by side and mornings exactly like this. His smile softened further, you smiled back, raising your eyebrows in an attempt to mirror the question in your head: "what's wrong?".
His thumb continued its slow sweep on your thigh, the motion so habitual it seemed he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. The oversized black T-shirt had twisted slightly around his torso from all the shifting, and a faint line from the sofa cushion pressed into his cheek where he’d been leaning earlier.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said after a beat, voice low and a little rough from the quiet morning. The corner of his mouth quirked higher, like he could see the question behind your raised brows. “Just thinking you look comfortable. Proper relaxed. Suits you.” He gave your thigh a light, affectionate squeeze, the kind that said he liked having you here more than any grand statement could. His foot found yours again under the slipped blanket, toes brushing lazily against your ankle before hooking gently behind it, anchoring the contact.
You let out a soft breath of amusement, the kind that wasn’t quite a laugh but carried the same ease. “High praise from someone who just spent twenty minutes watching himself on YouTube.”
Jude chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating faintly where his arm still rested along the back of the sofa near your shoulders.
He didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in a fraction more, drawn by the familiar rhythm of your teasing. The travel vlog played on, forgotten now, rolling hills and olive groves flickering across the screen while neither of you glanced at it. His free hand lifted from the remote, landing lightly on the cushion between you before his fingers found the edge of your workout top, tracing the seam near your hip in an absent, exploratory way. Not purposeful. Just the natural drift of touch when words felt secondary.
“Oi, I was scouting technique,” he murmured, eyes still on yours. The Brummie lilt thickened a touch with the lazy drawl of morning. “Important research. You should be impressed.” His thumb brushed higher on your thigh, then stilled as he tilted his head slightly, studying the way the sunlight caught in your hair. The space between your faces had narrowed without either of you deciding to close it, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of his breath, coffee and the faint mint from his toothpaste earlier.
One of his knees pressed against yours, solid and warm through the thin layers of clothing. His fingers at your hip slipped under the hem of your top by a centimeter, not seeking, just resting skin to skin in that unconscious way he did when the morning felt slow and safe.
Then you said something small, half a tease about his “research methods”, and Jude’s eyes crinkled with another quiet laugh. That laugh brought him the last inch. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, almost an extension of the shared smile, the kind of accidental contact that happens when two people are already leaning into the same small orbit. He exhaled softly against your mouth, the sound carrying a hint of surprise and delight, before pressing in again with more intention. The kiss stayed gentle, exploratory, his lips warm and slightly dry from the morning air. You felt him smile into it, the curve unmistakable, and when your noses bumped he pulled back just enough to let out a low, breathy chuckle that fanned across your cheek.
“Clumsy today,” he whispered, voice laced with amusement, but he didn’t move far. His hand slid from your thigh to your waist, palm broad and steady, fingers splaying naturally against the curve there as he drew you a little nearer. The other hand came up to cradle the side of your jaw, thumb tracing the line of your cheek in a slow sweep. He leaned back in, the rhythm unhurried, kisses that lingered and shifted, sometimes softer, sometimes a touch deeper, guided by the quiet give and take of breathing together. His fingers threaded lightly into the hair at the nape of your neck, not gripping, just holding with the same casual affection he showed in everything else.
You tasted the lingering coffee on him, felt the faint scratch of stubble against your skin when he tilted his head. Another soft laugh escaped him when your hand found the front of his oversized T-shirt, bunching the fabric slightly. He paused once, forehead resting against yours, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you up close, really looked, the kind of pause that said he was savoring the ordinary miracle of this exact moment.
Then Jude shifted, the sofa creaking faintly under his weight as he rearranged himself. He leaned back more fully into the corner of the sectional, stretching one long leg out along the cushions before patting his thigh in a clear, casual invitation. His gaze stayed on you, playful but soft, the corner of his mouth lifted in that familiar half-smile. “Come here,” he said quietly, voice low and easy, like it was the most natural suggestion in the world.
You hesitated, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes properly. “Really?”
He raised his eyebrows, nodding once with an amused little tilt of his head, as if to say yes, really. “What, you acting shy now?” The teasing lilt crept back into his tone, warm and familiar. “Not like it’s our first kiss or anything.”
Your gaze flicked briefly toward the direction of the front door, the quiet of the apartment suddenly feeling a little more fragile. Denise could walk back in from yoga at any minute. The thought made you pause, even as the warmth of his hand lingered at your waist. Jude seemed to read it on your face immediately. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“Oh, c’mon,” he said, patting his thigh again, more insistently this time. “My mum likes you more than me anyway. She knows we sleep together—she’s not blind.” His fingers gave your side a gentle squeeze, reassuring and playful all at once. “She’s probably doing extra sun salutations just to give us time.”
The silence stretched for another beat, your hesitancy still written across your expression. Jude’s eyes softened further, the competitive edge melting into something gentler, more coaxing. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the back of his knuckles. “C’mon baby,” he murmured, the endearments slipping out naturally. “Come here.” He patted his thigh one more time, an open invitation, then added with a low, boyish laugh, “Let your boyfriend have some motivation this morning, yeah? Before I have to go get shouted at on the pitch.”
The words, delivered with that expressive, slightly cheeky grin, finally tipped the balance. You moved, and Jude helped guide you with easy hands on your hips, settling you astride his lap so your knees sank into the cushions on either side of him. The position brought you closer, chests brushing, his oversized T-shirt bunching between you. His hands settled naturally at your waist, thumbs tracing small circles through the soft fabric of your workout set, while he looked up at you with open affection. No rush. Just the same comfortable intimacy that had carried the whole morning, now wrapped a little tighter.
“See? Not bad at all,” he murmured, voice low and warm with that playful lilt, one eyebrow raised like he was proving a point. His hands gave your waist a gentle squeeze, more reassurance than anything else, before one slid slowly up your back, palm broad and steady against the fabric of your top. “Come here,” he added softly, the words almost under his breath as he tilted his chin up.
You leaned down and the kiss picked up where it had left off, slow at first, familiar. Jude smiled against your mouth the moment your lips met, the curve of it impossible to miss. His hand at your waist stayed put, thumb still moving in those absent circles, while the other drifted up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading lightly into your hair. The contact was constant but easy, like he simply preferred some part of him touching you at all times. When your noses bumped awkwardly he broke the kiss with a quiet laugh, forehead resting against yours for a second as he caught his breath.
“Seriously?” he teased, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Every time.” But he didn’t pull away. He just tilted his head the other direction and leaned back in, the kiss deepening a touch, unhurried. His fingers at the back of your neck rubbed gently, a soothing rhythm, while his other hand slipped lower to rest on your thigh, palm warm through your leggings. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest against yours, the steady beat of his heart.
He kept the little comments coming between breaths, nothing elaborate, just the natural flow of his thoughts. “Missed this,” he whispered against your lips at one point, the words slipping out like they were nothing and everything at once. When you smiled into the next kiss he let out another soft laugh, the sound vibrating between you, and paused again, forehead to forehead, eyes half-open as he studied your face up close. “You alright?” he asked quietly, thumb brushing along your jaw now, checking in the way he always did: casual, genuine, never making a big deal of it.
You nodded, and he smiled again—the make-out stayed lazy and affectionate, the kind that ebbed and flowed with the quiet morning rather than racing anywhere. His hand on your thigh gave a light squeeze when you shifted closer, then moved back to your waist, anchoring you gently.
Eventually the kisses slowed of their own accord, not because either of you wanted to stop, but because there was nowhere left to rush. They dissolved into smaller moments instead—his lips lingering once against the corner of yours, another absent kiss to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, your forehead. His breathing gradually evened beneath you, the lazy rhythm matching your own until the room fell quiet again.
Neither of you spoke for a while.
The travel vlog had wandered somewhere along the southern coast now, the narrator enthusiastically explaining a tiny seaside village neither of you had been paying attention to for the last ten minutes. Sunlight had crept further across the living room, warming the edge of the coffee table and catching the forgotten mugs still sitting where you'd left them after breakfast.
Jude's hand never really stopped moving.
It rested against the small of your back now, fingertips tracing slow, thoughtless patterns through the fabric of your top while the other remained comfortably around your waist. It wasn't an attempt to start anything again. It was simply what his hands seemed to do whenever you were close enough to reach.
You let your head settle against his shoulder, your cheek brushing the soft cotton of his T-shirt. From here you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath it, slower now than it had been only moments before. His chin came to rest lightly against the top of your head.
For someone whose life was measured in fixture lists, departure gates and recovery schedules, Jude had always been unexpectedly good at doing absolutely nothing.
He never seemed to grow restless in moments like these. There was no instinct to reach for his phone, no urge to fill the silence simply because it existed. He was content to let the apartment breathe around the two of you, to let the television chatter unnoticed in the background, to trace absent patterns against your back without any destination in mind. It was one of the first things you'd learned about him, and somehow one of the things you cherished most.
author's note — no one is going to read this so wtv heheheh BALLBLR PLS ACCEPT ME. cozy makeout with jude >>>>>
You only meant to spend the morning doing absolutely nothing. Your boyfriend, however, has other plans—and apparently no shame whatsoever when it comes to making out with his girlfriend on his parents' sofa.
WARNINGS ◦ sfw content ◦ slow morning makeout with jude there i said it ◦ established relationship bc i'm a lonely bih ◦ detailed descriptions of making out ><
2,892 ━━━━━ drabble jude bellingham x reader
۶ৎ 𝓩 , this is my official ballblr debut... please be kind 😔 i've been spending way too much time on wc twitter lately and those people know how to appreciate fine men, so if this exists... blame them 😝😝
━━━━━ read on ao3
A half-empty mug of coffee sat beside yours, still faintly steaming, while Jude’s was already drained except for the faint ring at the bottom. The blanket you’d pulled over your legs sometime after breakfast had slipped halfway to the floor, one corner pooling near his bare feet. Denise had left earlier for her yoga class; you’d caught her in the kitchen making coffee and the two of you had chatted softly about nothing important while Jude was still half-asleep upstairs. Now the place felt gently emptied out, just the low hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional distant sound of traffic filtering up from the street below.
You were curled into the corner of the big sectional sofa, legs tucked under you, still in the soft Alo workout set you’d thrown on after your early Pilates class. The fabric was comfortable, slightly sweat-damp from the session, and it smelled faintly of the lavender detergent you used at your own place. Jude lounged at the other end, barefoot in white joggers that rode low on his hips and an oversized black T-shirt that had seen better days. He had one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, the other holding the remote loosely as he scrolled through YouTube with the casual indifference of someone who wasn’t really looking for anything specific.
A football skills compilation started playing, some kid in Brazil doing ridiculous step-overs, and Jude let out a soft huff of amusement, tilting his head. “Look at that touch,” he murmured, more to himself than you, though his gaze flicked your way for half a second. His fingers tapped idly against the cushion near your shoulder, a small unconscious rhythm. You kept scrolling through your phone, smiling faintly at a friend’s story, the comfortable silence stretching between you like it always did on these mornings. No need to fill it.
After a few minutes the video switched to a chaotic British cooking clip, someone attempting to make Sunday roast in what looked like a student kitchen. Jude laughed under his breath, the sound low and easy, and shifted his weight so his leg stretched out, his bare foot nudging gently against your ankle. “You seeing this? Bloke’s about to burn the whole flat down. Reminds me of that time I tried cooking for the lads last year. Disaster.”
You glanced up, lowering your phone a fraction. “You mean the time you set off the smoke alarm making toast?”
“It was fancy toast tho,” he corrected, grinning. His foot stayed resting against yours, warm skin against skin, a casual point of contact that neither of you acknowledged. He reached over without looking away from the screen and stole your phone for a second, tilting it to see what you’d been looking at. “Instagram again? You’re ignoring my superior entertainment over here.”
You snatched it back with a quiet laugh, bumping his knee with yours in retaliation. “Your superior entertainment is a man crying over lumpy gravy. I’m catching up on actual human lives.”
“Harsh,” he said, but his eyes crinkled with amusement. He stretched, the oversized shirt riding up slightly, then settled again, this time scooting a little closer under the pretense of adjusting the blanket. His hand landed lightly on your thigh, just above the knee, thumb brushing once in an absentminded circle before it stilled.
The YouTube algorithm wandered next to a funny animal video, then back to a quick highlight reel of his own goals from last season. Jude watched himself on the screen with a small, self-deprecating shake of his head. “Still can’t believe that one went in. Felt terrible off the boot.”
You set your phone down on the cushion between you, finally giving the screen more attention. The sunlight shifted, warming the side of his face and highlighting the details across his nose that only showed up in certain angle.
Minutes passed like that, easy, unhurried. He commented on the videos occasionally, voice relaxed and expressive, and you offered small replies or teasing jabs that made him chuckle. Jude's hand stayed on your leg, fingers occasionally tapping along to some internal beat only he could hear. At one point he nudged your foot again with his, hooking his ankle loosely behind yours for a moment before letting go, all without taking his eyes off the TV.
Eventually the videos looped into something quieter, a travel vlog through Spanish countryside. Jude’s thumb resumed its slow, unconscious sweep on your thigh. “We should do something like that one off-season,” he said softly. “Just drive somewhere. No schedule.”
You turned your head to look at him properly. He was already watching you instead of the screen, that playful spark still in his eyes but softened around the edges by the lazy morning. “Only if you promise not to turn it into a fitness bootcamp.”
He smiled, slow and genuine, the kind that showed how much he was enjoying his morning off.“No promises. But I’ll let you pick the playlist.” The teasing lilt in his voice lingered, and something in the way you held his gaze made the moment stretch.
You raised an eyebrow. “Let me? Generous of you.”
That earned a quiet laugh from him, warm and close. He leaned in just a fraction, as if to deliver another retort, but the words didn’t come. Instead the look held: comfortable, familiar, the kind built from nights spent side by side and mornings exactly like this. His smile softened further, you smiled back, raising your eyebrows in an attempt to mirror the question in your head: "what's wrong?".
His thumb continued its slow sweep on your thigh, the motion so habitual it seemed he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. The oversized black T-shirt had twisted slightly around his torso from all the shifting, and a faint line from the sofa cushion pressed into his cheek where he’d been leaning earlier.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said after a beat, voice low and a little rough from the quiet morning. The corner of his mouth quirked higher, like he could see the question behind your raised brows. “Just thinking you look comfortable. Proper relaxed. Suits you.” He gave your thigh a light, affectionate squeeze, the kind that said he liked having you here more than any grand statement could. His foot found yours again under the slipped blanket, toes brushing lazily against your ankle before hooking gently behind it, anchoring the contact.
You let out a soft breath of amusement, the kind that wasn’t quite a laugh but carried the same ease. “High praise from someone who just spent twenty minutes watching himself on YouTube.”
Jude chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating faintly where his arm still rested along the back of the sofa near your shoulders.
He didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned in a fraction more, drawn by the familiar rhythm of your teasing. The travel vlog played on, forgotten now, rolling hills and olive groves flickering across the screen while neither of you glanced at it. His free hand lifted from the remote, landing lightly on the cushion between you before his fingers found the edge of your workout top, tracing the seam near your hip in an absent, exploratory way. Not purposeful. Just the natural drift of touch when words felt secondary.
“Oi, I was scouting technique,” he murmured, eyes still on yours. The Brummie lilt thickened a touch with the lazy drawl of morning. “Important research. You should be impressed.” His thumb brushed higher on your thigh, then stilled as he tilted his head slightly, studying the way the sunlight caught in your hair. The space between your faces had narrowed without either of you deciding to close it, close enough now that you could feel the warmth of his breath, coffee and the faint mint from his toothpaste earlier.
One of his knees pressed against yours, solid and warm through the thin layers of clothing. His fingers at your hip slipped under the hem of your top by a centimeter, not seeking, just resting skin to skin in that unconscious way he did when the morning felt slow and safe.
Then you said something small, half a tease about his “research methods”, and Jude’s eyes crinkled with another quiet laugh. That laugh brought him the last inch. His lips brushed yours lightly at first, almost an extension of the shared smile, the kind of accidental contact that happens when two people are already leaning into the same small orbit. He exhaled softly against your mouth, the sound carrying a hint of surprise and delight, before pressing in again with more intention. The kiss stayed gentle, exploratory, his lips warm and slightly dry from the morning air. You felt him smile into it, the curve unmistakable, and when your noses bumped he pulled back just enough to let out a low, breathy chuckle that fanned across your cheek.
“Clumsy today,” he whispered, voice laced with amusement, but he didn’t move far. His hand slid from your thigh to your waist, palm broad and steady, fingers splaying naturally against the curve there as he drew you a little nearer. The other hand came up to cradle the side of your jaw, thumb tracing the line of your cheek in a slow sweep. He leaned back in, the rhythm unhurried, kisses that lingered and shifted, sometimes softer, sometimes a touch deeper, guided by the quiet give and take of breathing together. His fingers threaded lightly into the hair at the nape of your neck, not gripping, just holding with the same casual affection he showed in everything else.
You tasted the lingering coffee on him, felt the faint scratch of stubble against your skin when he tilted his head. Another soft laugh escaped him when your hand found the front of his oversized T-shirt, bunching the fabric slightly. He paused once, forehead resting against yours, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you up close, really looked, the kind of pause that said he was savoring the ordinary miracle of this exact moment.
Then Jude shifted, the sofa creaking faintly under his weight as he rearranged himself. He leaned back more fully into the corner of the sectional, stretching one long leg out along the cushions before patting his thigh in a clear, casual invitation. His gaze stayed on you, playful but soft, the corner of his mouth lifted in that familiar half-smile. “Come here,” he said quietly, voice low and easy, like it was the most natural suggestion in the world.
You hesitated, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes properly. “Really?”
He raised his eyebrows, nodding once with an amused little tilt of his head, as if to say yes, really. “What, you acting shy now?” The teasing lilt crept back into his tone, warm and familiar. “Not like it’s our first kiss or anything.”
Your gaze flicked briefly toward the direction of the front door, the quiet of the apartment suddenly feeling a little more fragile. Denise could walk back in from yoga at any minute. The thought made you pause, even as the warmth of his hand lingered at your waist. Jude seemed to read it on your face immediately. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“Oh, c’mon,” he said, patting his thigh again, more insistently this time. “My mum likes you more than me anyway. She knows we sleep together—she’s not blind.” His fingers gave your side a gentle squeeze, reassuring and playful all at once. “She’s probably doing extra sun salutations just to give us time.”
The silence stretched for another beat, your hesitancy still written across your expression. Jude’s eyes softened further, the competitive edge melting into something gentler, more coaxing. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the back of his knuckles. “C’mon baby,” he murmured, the endearments slipping out naturally. “Come here.” He patted his thigh one more time, an open invitation, then added with a low, boyish laugh, “Let your boyfriend have some motivation this morning, yeah? Before I have to go get shouted at on the pitch.”
The words, delivered with that expressive, slightly cheeky grin, finally tipped the balance. You moved, and Jude helped guide you with easy hands on your hips, settling you astride his lap so your knees sank into the cushions on either side of him. The position brought you closer, chests brushing, his oversized T-shirt bunching between you. His hands settled naturally at your waist, thumbs tracing small circles through the soft fabric of your workout set, while he looked up at you with open affection. No rush. Just the same comfortable intimacy that had carried the whole morning, now wrapped a little tighter.
“See? Not bad at all,” he murmured, voice low and warm with that playful lilt, one eyebrow raised like he was proving a point. His hands gave your waist a gentle squeeze, more reassurance than anything else, before one slid slowly up your back, palm broad and steady against the fabric of your top. “Come here,” he added softly, the words almost under his breath as he tilted his chin up.
You leaned down and the kiss picked up where it had left off, slow at first, familiar. Jude smiled against your mouth the moment your lips met, the curve of it impossible to miss. His hand at your waist stayed put, thumb still moving in those absent circles, while the other drifted up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading lightly into your hair. The contact was constant but easy, like he simply preferred some part of him touching you at all times. When your noses bumped awkwardly he broke the kiss with a quiet laugh, forehead resting against yours for a second as he caught his breath.
“Seriously?” he teased, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Every time.” But he didn’t pull away. He just tilted his head the other direction and leaned back in, the kiss deepening a touch, unhurried. His fingers at the back of your neck rubbed gently, a soothing rhythm, while his other hand slipped lower to rest on your thigh, palm warm through your leggings. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his chest against yours, the steady beat of his heart.
He kept the little comments coming between breaths, nothing elaborate, just the natural flow of his thoughts. “Missed this,” he whispered against your lips at one point, the words slipping out like they were nothing and everything at once. When you smiled into the next kiss he let out another soft laugh, the sound vibrating between you, and paused again, forehead to forehead, eyes half-open as he studied your face up close. “You alright?” he asked quietly, thumb brushing along your jaw now, checking in the way he always did: casual, genuine, never making a big deal of it.
You nodded, and he smiled again—the make-out stayed lazy and affectionate, the kind that ebbed and flowed with the quiet morning rather than racing anywhere. His hand on your thigh gave a light squeeze when you shifted closer, then moved back to your waist, anchoring you gently.
Eventually the kisses slowed of their own accord, not because either of you wanted to stop, but because there was nowhere left to rush. They dissolved into smaller moments instead—his lips lingering once against the corner of yours, another absent kiss to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, your forehead. His breathing gradually evened beneath you, the lazy rhythm matching your own until the room fell quiet again.
Neither of you spoke for a while.
The travel vlog had wandered somewhere along the southern coast now, the narrator enthusiastically explaining a tiny seaside village neither of you had been paying attention to for the last ten minutes. Sunlight had crept further across the living room, warming the edge of the coffee table and catching the forgotten mugs still sitting where you'd left them after breakfast.
Jude's hand never really stopped moving.
It rested against the small of your back now, fingertips tracing slow, thoughtless patterns through the fabric of your top while the other remained comfortably around your waist. It wasn't an attempt to start anything again. It was simply what his hands seemed to do whenever you were close enough to reach.
You let your head settle against his shoulder, your cheek brushing the soft cotton of his T-shirt. From here you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath it, slower now than it had been only moments before. His chin came to rest lightly against the top of your head.
For someone whose life was measured in fixture lists, departure gates and recovery schedules, Jude had always been unexpectedly good at doing absolutely nothing.
He never seemed to grow restless in moments like these. There was no instinct to reach for his phone, no urge to fill the silence simply because it existed. He was content to let the apartment breathe around the two of you, to let the television chatter unnoticed in the background, to trace absent patterns against your back without any destination in mind. It was one of the first things you'd learned about him, and somehow one of the things you cherished most.
author's note — no one is going to read this so wtv heheheh BALLBLR PLS ACCEPT ME. cozy makeout with jude >>>>>
gentleman!jude who . . . lets you ride his dick after a long day.
gentleman!jude who . . . always praises you while having sex. He just wants you to know how pretty and good you are to him. Jude has so many sweet things to say to you.
gentleman!jude who . . . knows you have a huge fixation with his biceps, which is why when he’s fucking you from behind, he wraps his arm around your neck, choking you a little with his bicep.
gentleman!jude who . . . always teases during sex. Even though he’s a gentleman, Jude likes to play around and be the type to make you beg for what you want. To understand Jude's teasing, you have to focus on the questions.
"Does it feel good?"
"Do you want it? How badly do you want it?"
"Will you let me come inside you, my love? Please ask me for it."
gentleman!jude who . . . never, under any circumstances, starts undressing you without first kissing your hands, your shoulders, and your neck.
gentleman!jude who . . . treats your pleasure as a priority. If he notices you’re tired or stressed, he’ll lay you down on the bed, take off your shoes, and take care of you without asking for anything in return. He will spend hours eating you out and using his fingers, making sure you have multiple orgasms. For him, it’s: happy wife, happy life.
gentleman!jude who . . . is the type of boyfriend who opens the car door for you, who wraps his arm around your waist to pull you close to his body when you’re walking down the street, and who looks at you like you’re the most valuable prize he has ever won in his entire life. Jude will give you the dirtiest sex at night, but he will always wake up being the most polite, protective, and deeply in love man in the world. Just a real gentleman.
gentleman!jude who . . . loves looking into your eyes, demanding direct eye contact when things get intense. If you try to hide your face in the pillow or cover your eyes because you’re embarrassed by how loudly you’re moaning, Jude will gently take your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look at him.
gentleman!jude who . . . uses his suits to drive you crazy during sex. He knows perfectly well the effect he has on you when he’s dressed elegantly. Sometimes, he won’t even take off his shirt or tie, he’ll just unbutton what’s necessary to be sexier. Feeling the cold, expensive fabric of his suit brushing against your bare skin while he thrusts into you deeply is an experience every woman should feel. (just not with your charming boyfriend)
gentleman!jude who . . . adores gifting you fine lingerie just for the pleasure of taking it off you himself.
gentleman!jude who . . . has such a serious sense of chivalry that he prefers to sync his orgasms with yours so you never feel alone at the climax.
gentleman!jude who . . . pays attention to the smallest details you mention in passing. If one day you say that a specific book, perfume, or candy caught your eye while talking, don’t be surprised if a few days later you come home and find it on the table with a cute note written by Jude.
gentleman!jude who . . . never lets you walk on the curbside of the street.
gentleman!jude who . . . loved kisses, both giving and receiving them. He couldn’t live without your lips.
Jealous Zuko - a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
No title - a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends
No title - zuko asks you to remove his bandages
Thunderstorms - zuko helps you get over your fear
No title - your sudden disappearance makes zuko reevaluate his behavior
No title - zuko apologizes and receives something in return
Wingman - Zuko isn’t sure how to tell you he likes you, so he looks to Sokka for guidance
All I Ever Wanted - as a peasant and servant girl for the palace, you should have known better than to fall for the Prince
No title - Zuko shows his love for you the only way he knows how to
By: @zukosprettyprincess
Midnight discussions - Zuko's always loved staying up late. It's the only time he gets to relax and think and be alone. But...maybe having someone by his side isn't so bad, either.
Dibs - Zuko can be a bit territorial when it comes to his favorite people...or person.
Don't make me beg… - Zuko wishes to make amends. The only problem is...I won't hear him out. But he's never been one to give up easily.
By: @zukoszukhoes
Daisies - Zuko doesn’t know how he feels about you. you make him feel complete, safe, and at peace- but that doesn’t mean anything. Does it?
The Last Time
By: @beifongsss
firebending - If someone told you that you’d end up dating the Fire Nation prince one day, you would’ve laughed in their face. If only you knew how right they were.
fake it till you make it - Takes place during season 3, “The Beach”. As the request said, fake dating to make Mai jealous but it backfires. For Zuko that is.
warmth - You and Zuko get separated from the Gaang and things happen
blush
By: @carpecaelo
of love & destiny
what I'm here for.
marriage is stupid.
in another world
Silk Sheets with No Heat By: @matchakura
dating zuko would include By: @girlkisser13
5:36 By: @seumyo
No title By: @passable-talent
Best Kind of Medicine - All you wanted was for Zuko to take better care of himself. By: @panda-noosh
𝐋𝐄𝐒 By: @par4disee
A classic - 2 teenagers, 1 bed, By: @unfriedough
oh, spirits - literally just the ‘there was only one bed’ cliche with zuko By: @atlabeth
Imagine trying to help Zuko convince everyone that he’s good… By: @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction
𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 - "I have to go but-one more kiss." By: @thefandomthings
calm!reader and her loud and dramatic boyfriend, tengen uzui ˚.✦
“I am NOT going,” Tengen comes back from his wardrobe still in just boxers and half painted eyeliner. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest and a pout.
“Mm?” you lift your head from your book, you finish getting ready for this party about twenty minutes ago, full make up, hair and outfit, everything ready. “What happened, my love?”
He looks at you from over his shoulder, the pout growing bigger (definitely not to pity him). “I can’t find a good outfit. Nothing worthy of standing beside you tonight. Nothing!”
You tilt your head, pressing your lips in a kind smile and scooting over behind him. You rub his chest, your nails raking through it and him melting into it. “Go search a little more, c’mon. You have a lot of clothes.”
“Hm…” He pretends to think about it, although he’s just trying to keep himself in your arms, when you pat his chest, he gets up instantly. “Okay, I’ll go!”
A few moments later he finds the perfect purple shirt for his outfit and asks you to help him finish his make up only to have you in his lap, as close as possible.
You and him always arrive to parties late (his fault) and leave parties early (your fault). He’s the center of attention every goddamn time, telling stories to people he just met, his arms slash through the air, people crowd around him, laughing, gasping at every exaggerated detail.
But when he sees you sitting on a couch not too far away from him (for him it feels like miles away), sipping on your drink while you stare at his ass, he shushes all the people, announcing that he has to go back to his partner because he can’t function well without you.
“Oh my god, Tengen,” you say, with a flustered laugh because you could hear him perfectly. He’s already sat by your side, arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” he says, close to your ear as he leaves kisses on your cheek. “I love the look on your face when I talk about you.”
“You scream about me,” you remind him, squeezing his arm and laying your cheek on his shoulder.
He notices your little sigh and how your body relaxes when he’s pressed to you. He draws little patterns on your arm, letting you a few moments of physical contact before saying: “Do you wanna go home? These people are boring.”
You lift your gaze, blinking slowly. “You were laughing a few moments ago, Tengen.”
“I was laughing at my own jokes, let’s get out of here.” He grabs your hand, lifting you easily and pulling you across the dancefloor.
He always knows when you’re done for the night, and when you’re done, he is too.
Tengen has this burst of love and intensity where he lays on top of you, purposefully trapping you below his body because he’s way taller and stronger that you and makes you look straight into his eyes while he tells you:
“I would die for you,” he declares. “I would burn down entire cities, shatter the heavens themselves if it meant keeping you safe. You are my goddess, my everything. Without you, I am nothing but noise in an empty world.”
You lie there beneath him, used to these sudden storms of his affection. Your hands rest calmly on his back, fingers tracing slow circles over his muscles as he keeps talking, eyes never leaving yours.
“Every breath I take is for you,” he continues, voice rising with passion. “I worship the ground you walk on. You calm the chaos inside me. I would kneel for you, fight for you, live every second like it is my last just to see you smile. My love, my partner, my only peace. Tell me you know how deeply I adore you. Say it.”
A warm flush creeps up your neck and across your cheeks, he is so intense, so extra, turning a simple moment on the couch into something epic and overwhelming. Yet you cannot help but adore him for it.
You meet his eyes without looking away, your voice soft and even. “I know, Tengen. You tell me every day.”
He groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck for a second before pulling back to trap you with his stare again. “Not enough! Words are never enough for what I feel. I want to shout it from the rooftops until the whole city knows you own me completely. You are the silence I crave after every battle. I would lay down my swords, my pride, my life for one more moment like this with you.”
You smile quietly, sliding your fingers up into his silver hair and tugging gently to settle him. Even pinned under his massive frame, you feel safe, loved in the loud, all-consuming way only he can give. “I love you too, by the way,” you whisper into his hair. “Even when you’re loud as fuck.”
He lifts his head fast, gasping and leaning to fill your face with kisses. You burst out laughing because it tickles, “Tengen!”
“Mm, I love you tooooo,” he sings, now licking your cheeks between kisses.
“Ew! Tengen, you’re gross!” You try to push his face away except you’re not really applying any force, you’re just giggling as he hugs you tighter and kisses you slower, now trapping your lips in a soft and wet kiss.
pairings : p1harmony x fem!reader (separate)
synopsis : reactions about what happens when p1harmony members call their girlfriend clingy.
warnings : crying, yelling, mean!p1h, angst, kissing, some things are set differently (dorm spaces, studio, etc.), humilation, lmk if i missed anything NOT EDITED.
a/n : guys i'm thinking of stanning cortis... (martin has caught my eye)
word count : 6k
back to library .
keeho - 기호
the dorm was loud the way it always was when all six boys were crammed into one room. jiung and jongseob were locked into a video game battle on the tv, their voices overlapping in sharp bursts of trash talk. intak sat cross-legged on the floor with a bag of chips, narrating the chaos like he was some kind of sports commentator. theo hummed under his breath while scrolling tiktok, and soul sat nearby flipping through a notebook.
you were curled against keeho on the couch, half leaning into his side, chin tucked against his shoulder as you watched the game unfold. it wasn’t unusual—in fact, it was your favorite spot, pressed against him while the others did their thing.
but tonight, keeho wasn’t really leaning back into you.
you didn’t notice at first. you laughed when jongseob shouted in victory, you clapped when jiung fumbled his controller, & you shifted closer when the blanket slipped from keeho’s lap. your hand found his sleeve, tugging gently as you whispered, “look, seob’s actually winning this round.”
keeho stiffened. he gave a small, almost invisible shrug like he was trying to shake your hand off. your brows pinched, but you didn’t move. instead, you tucked yourself closer, smiling. “you’re too quiet. what’s going on in that head of yours?”
that was when it happened.
keeho’s sigh was audible, sharp enough that the others glanced over. he pulled back slightly and said, without lowering his voice:
“god, you’re so clingy sometimes.”
the words landed like a slap.
the room went silent. even jongseob’s character died without him noticing, the announcer blaring on screen. you froze, heat rushing to your face so fast it made your ears ring. your hand fell away from keeho’s sleeve as if you’d been burned.
theo was the first to clear his throat. “…yikes.” intak blinked wide-eyed. “uh, hyung…” jongseob shot a glare keeho’s way, muttering, “not cool.”
soul didn’t say anything, but his pencil stopped mid-line. he was staring. jiung frowned, controller dropping into his lap. “dude, seriously? you didn’t have to say it like that.”
you swallowed, forcing a weak laugh that cracked on the edges. “wow. okay. that’s… noted.” you pushed yourself up from the couch, arms wrapping around yourself. you didn’t wait for a response. you slipped past the boys, trying to hold yourself together until you were safely behind a closed door. the sting hit then—humiliation, sharp and hot. not just because keeho had said it, but because he’d said it in front of everyone.
back in the living room, tension hung heavy.
keeho stared at the empty space you’d left, guilt slowly dawning across his face. “…i didn’t-” “bro,” intak cut in, still munching chips but his tone unusually serious, “you can’t say that to y/n. especially not in front of all of us.”
jiung shook his head, brows furrowed. “yeah, that was rough. you embarrassed her man.” theo leaned back, folding his arms. “more than rough. she looked humiliated.” keeho opened his mouth, closed it. he dragged a hand down his face, groaning. “i didn’t mean it like that.”
“doesn’t matter how you meant it,” jongseob muttered. “it’s how it sounded.” even soul piped up, voice quiet but cutting; “she looked like she wanted to disappear.”
keeho’s chest twisted. he knew. he’d seen it in your eyes the second the word left his mouth—that sting, that crumple he’d caused. and now all five of his members were staring at him like he was the villain.
because he was.
“shit,” he muttered, standing abruptly. “i need to fix this.”
you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, when a soft knock sounded.
“baby?” keeho’s voice, muffled but gentle. you swiped at your eyes quickly, though the redness would give you away. “…busy.”
another pause.
“can i come in?”
“no.”
a beat of silence. then, “please. i messed up. i need to talk to you.”
your chest ached, torn between wanting to slam the door shut forever and the part of you that still craved him, even when he’d hurt you. finally, you exhaled, shaky. “fine.” the door opened slowly, revealing keeho’s guilty face. he stepped in and shut it behind him, leaning back against the wood as if bracing himself.
you didn’t look at him.
keeho crouched in front of you, voice quiet. “i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips together. “in front of everyone, keeho? really?” he winced. “i know. i know. it was the worst way i could’ve handled it.”
“you think?” the bitterness slipped out before you could stop it. tears threatened again, but you forced them down. “you embarrassed me. like i was some annoying… leech or something.” keeho’s face crumpled. “no, no, baby. that’s not what i think. that’s not what i meant at all.”
“then what did you mean?” your voice cracked. “because you looked pretty serious when you said it.”
he dropped his gaze, ashamed. “i was tired. distracted. you were pulling at me and instead of just saying i needed a second, i said… that. and it came out so wrong.” you let out a shaky laugh, humorless. “clingy. that’s what you think of me?”
“i don’t,” he said firmly, lifting his eyes back to yours. “i think you’re loving. i think you make me feel safe and wanted. i think you’re the best part of my day. and i took all of that for granted when i opened my stupid mouth.” something in his tone made your chest wobble. but the sting was still raw.
“you made me feel small,” you whispered.
keeho’s breath hitched. he reached for your hand—slowly, carefully—and when you didn’t pull away, he held it tight.
“i’m so sorry i hurt you. i would never want to make you feel like that. you’re not too much. you’re never too much. if anything, i don’t deserve how much love you give me.”
your throat closed, eyes burning again, but this time from the sincerity in his voice.
keeho shuffled closer, resting his forehead against your knee. “please forgive me. i’ll apologize a thousand more times if that’s what it takes. i love the way you cling to me. i love that you even want to. for a moment, the bathroom was silent except for your uneven breaths. then, finally, you whispered, “…promise?”
he looked up at you, eyes shining. “promise.”
something loosened inside you. you sighed, shoulders slumping as the tension drained. “you’re such an idiot sometimes.” a weak laugh escaped him. “the biggest idiot.”
you slid off the tub edge, into his arms. he wrapped you up immediately, hugging you so tightly it felt like he was trying to fuse your pieces back together. “i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair again and again, like a mantra.
this time, you let yourself believe him.
when you both finally re-emerged, the boys were still sprawled in the living room, pretending not to have been eavesdropping. theo raised a brow when he saw your swollen eyes and keeho’s sheepish expression. “everything good now?”
keeho squeezed your hand, answering, “better than good. but i owe all of you an apology too.”
they blinked.
“i embarrassed her in front of you guys,” keeho said firmly, “and that wasn’t fair. it was disrespectful to her, and it put you in a weird spot too. so… i’m sorry.”
intak nodded slowly. “that’s more like it.” jongseob smirked. “took you long enough.” jiung gave you a gentle smile. “we’ve got your back. especially when our idiot leader fucked up with you.”
you felt warmth flood your chest, gratitude swelling as the boys went back to their usual banter, tension easing away. keeho tugged you back down beside him on the couch, this time wrapping his arm snugly around your waist without hesitation. he whispered just for you, “see? not letting you go ever again.”
you smiled faintly, leaning into him despite the sting that still lingered. because you knew—this time, he meant it.
˙⋆✮
theo - 테오
the clock on the studio wall glowed 1:37 a.m.
you shifted in your seat, blinking against the haze of exhaustion. theo sat hunched over his notebook at the desk, headphones crooked on his head, lips pressed into a tight line. he hadn’t spoken in over fifteen minutes, pencil scratching furiously across paper while he rewound the same section of a beat again and again.
your back ached from the stiff couch, but you didn’t complain. being here mattered more than sleep. theo had been practicing nonstop for weeks, buried in choreography and lyrics, and tonight was one of the rare moments you could be by his side. you just wanted to make sure he didn’t drown in it.
“you’ve been staring at that line forever,” you said softly, trying to lighten the mood. “want me to grab you a coffee? or some snacks? you’ll think better if you take a break.” “i can’t,” theo muttered without looking up. you pushed yourself off the couch, padding closer. “just ten minutes, baby. come sit with me. breathe.”
he stiffened when you touched his shoulder. “i said i can’t.” your smile faltered. “theo…” he yanked the headphones down around his neck, finally turning to face you. his expression was sharp, eyes flashing with the frustration that had been simmering all night.
“you don’t get it. i need to finish this.” “i do get it,” you said gently. “but you’ve been at it for hours. you’re burning yourself out, and i just want to help.” he let out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. “help? by hovering over me? you’re being… you’re being so clingy right now. i can’t think.”
the word slammed into you.
you froze, hand still hovering uselessly near his shoulder. “clingy?” theo groaned, turning back to his notebook. “just give me space y/n, okay? please.” your throat tightened, burning with humiliation. you’d stayed up for him, waiting, worrying, just to be dismissed like that. you stepped back quickly, arms wrapping around yourself.
“…right,” you whispered, barely audible. “i’ll give you space.”
before he could respond, you slipped out of the studio, the door clicking softly shut behind you.
theo sat frozen at the desk, pencil slack in his fingers. the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of what he’d just said sinking in with every passing second.
clingy.
his stomach twisted. he hadn’t meant it like that. he hadn’t meant for your face to crumple the way it did, hadn’t meant for you to leave. “shit,” he muttered, shoving back from the desk. his music didn’t matter right now. none of it did.
you sat on the floor just outside the studio, knees pulled tight to your chest. the hall was dim, quiet except for the hum of vending machines down the corridor. you hated that your eyes were stinging, hated that one stupid word had undone you so easily. but you couldn’t stop replaying it. clingy. like you were a nuisance. like your love was suffocating.
the door creaked open, and theo’s footsteps approached.
“baby?” his voice was cautious, almost pleading. you swiped at your cheeks quickly, though your sniffle gave you away. “…don’t, theo. just go finish your song.” he crouched in front of you, eyes wide with guilt. “no. i can’t. not after that. i’m so sorry.” you stared at the floor. “you didn’t seem sorry when you said it.”
“i wasn’t thinking,” he admitted, voice rough. “i was frustrated, and i took it out on you. and that’s… that’s the last thing i should’ve done.” your chest tightened. “so you don’t think i’m clingy?”
theo’s heart cracked at the way you asked it, so small, like you needed him to prove it. he shook his head fiercely. “no. never. i love that you want to be close to me. i love that you care enough to sit in a freezing studio at one in the morning just so i’m not alone. you’re the reason i can even keep going.” his hand hovered before gently brushing against your arm. “baby, you’re not too much. i’m the one who was too much. too caught up in my own head to realize how lucky i am.”
“i know,” theo whispered, throat tight. “and i hate myself for it. but let me make it right. please.”
he slid down to sit on the floor beside you, wrapping his arms around your curled-up frame. at first you resisted, stiff against him. but then his warmth seeped in, his heartbeat steady against your cheek, and you finally let yourself melt into him.
“i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair again and again, voice trembling with sincerity. “i’ll never call you that again. i swear.” your tears soaked into his hoodie, but you didn’t care. you clung to him now, tighter than before, needing proof that he wouldn’t push you away again.
theo held you just as fiercely. “you’re not clingy. you’re the best thing in my life. don’t ever doubt that.” the hall was quiet, but in his arms, the sting slowly eased.
when he finally pulled back, his eyes were red too. “come back inside with me? i won’t work anymore tonight. i just want to hold you.”
you searched his face, wary but softening. “…promise?”
he cupped your cheek, nodding. “promise.”
back in the studio, the desk lamp still glowed over scattered papers, but theo ignored it. he pulled you onto the couch with him, tucking you against his chest under his hoodie, as if shielding you from every harsh word he’d ever said. you exhaled slowly, the ache in your chest loosening at last.
“don’t ever scare me like that again,” you whispered.
he pressed a kiss to your hair. “never again. you’re my everything. too clingy? more like not close enough.”
for the first time all night, you smiled.
˙⋆✮
jiung - 지웅
the dorm door clicked open, and jiung stepped inside, shoulders sagging under the weight of the day. his hoodie was pulled low over his eyes, backpack sliding down one arm like he didn’t even have the energy to hold it.
you were curled on the couch between intak and jongseob, waiting. the second you heard the door, you perked up, smile breaking across your face.
“ji!” you scrambled up, crossing the room to greet him. “you’re back, finally! how was practice? did you eat? do you want me to heat something up?” your arms went around him before he could answer, hugging him tight.
but instead of relaxing into you, jiung stiffened. “baby,” he said, voice low and rough, “not right now.” you pulled back slightly, blinking. “oh—sorry, i just missed you.”
he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “i know. i just… can you not be clingy the second i walk in? i’m exhausted.”
the word landed sharp and cold.
clingy.
your smile faltered. behind you, the members shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the air immediate. intak opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head quickly, forcing a little laugh.
“right. sorry. i’ll… give you space.”
you backed away, retreating toward the kitchen even though your chest ached. jiung didn’t look up. he just kicked off his shoes and trudged toward his room, leaving silence behind him.
the kitchen tiles blurred as you stood there, staring at nothing. your arms still tingled from the hug you’d given him, a hug he didn’t want.
clingy.
like you were too much. like your love was inconvenient. intak’s voice broke through softly. “hey… don’t listen to him. he’s tired. you know how jiung gets when he’s wiped.” jongseob nodded. “yeah. he didn’t mean it.” you forced a nod, but the sting was already lodged in your chest. “it’s fine. i get it.” but you didn’t, not really.
jiung collapsed face-first onto his bed, groaning into the pillow. his body was aching, his mind buzzing from hours of practice, but all he could think about was the look on your face when he brushed you off.
god, why had he said that?
he hadn’t meant it—not the way it came out. he just felt suffocated by the day, by the endless schedules and expectations, and when you hugged him, instead of grounding him like it usually did, it tipped him over the edge. but that wasn’t your fault. that was his.
and he’d said it in front of the others. guilt coiled in his stomach, hot and sickening. he sat up abruptly, dragging a hand down his face.
fix it. now.
you were curled on the couch again, knees tucked up, staring blankly at the tv that wasn’t even on. theo and keeho were talking quietly in the corner, casting glances your way, while jongseob scrolled through his phone. when jiung stepped out of his room, the air shifted. everyone looked up. his eyes found you immediately, and the sight twisted the knife in deeper. he crossed the room slowly, kneeling down in front of you.
“baby,” he said softly. you didn’t look at him. “shouldn’t i give you space?” theo muttered something under his breath that sounded like dumbass, but jiung ignored it, shame burning in his ears.
“no. i was wrong. i didn’t mean what i said.”
your arms tightened around your knees. “but you said it.”
“i know.” his voice cracked. “i was exhausted and frustrated, and i took it out on you. i called you clingy because i didn’t have the energy to think, but the truth is— i need your clinginess. i need you.” finally, your eyes lifted to his, glassy with unshed tears. “you really hurt me.”
“i know,” he whispered, throat tight. “and i hate that i did. you’re never too much for me. not ever. i was just… too tired to see what was right in front of me. the person who waits for me, worries about me, loves me no matter how drained i am.” his hand reached up, brushing tentatively over your arm. “i don’t deserve it, but please don’t pull away from me. not when i need you most.”
you stared at him for a long moment, the ache in your chest warring with the sincerity in his eyes. finally, you exhaled shakily. “…you’re such an idiot.” a shaky laugh slipped from him, relief flooding his face. “yeah. i am.”
you let him pull you into his arms then, clinging to him despite your words. he held you tighter, burying his face in your shoulder. “i’m sorry,” he murmured again and again. “you’re not clingy. you’re everything. i love how much you love me.”
“don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” you mumbled against his hoodie. “i mean it,” he swore, pressing a desperate kiss to your hair. “every word.”
keeho cleared his throat pointedly from across the room. “apology accepted—on behalf of all of us who had to watch that train wreck.” intak snorted, jongseob muttered facts, and theo just shook his head. but their teasing softened the tension, and you even laughed weakly into jiung’s chest.
he smiled at the sound, finally breathing again.
that night, he refused to let you out of his arms. curled together on his bed, he traced apologies across your skin with his fingertips, whispered promises into your hair until your breathing evened out.
and when you finally drifted off, he stayed awake just a little longer, holding you like he’d never let go.
“never too much,” he whispered into the dark. “never.”
˙⋆✮
intak - 인탁
the bass rattled the mirrors of the practice room, sweat beading across the boys’ foreheads as they drilled the same eight-count for the tenth time. intak’s jaw was tight, movements sharp but not sharp enough for him. he cursed under his breath when he stumbled on the transition again, shaking his head furiously.
“focus,” theo said gently, but intak just nodded curtly and restarted the track.
you leaned against the doorway, watching quietly. you’d brought snacks and water, hoping to cheer them up after the long session. mostly, you wanted to see intak. he’d been disappearing into practices all week, and you missed him.
“break time, please,” keeho groaned, flopping onto the floor dramatically. jiung laughed and joined him, tugging jongseob down too. “fine,” intak muttered, tossing his cap aside and collapsing against the wall. his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, sweat darkening his shirt.
you took that as your chance.
“hey, tak,” you said softly, stepping inside. his head snapped up, eyes wide before softening a little. “oh. you’re here.” you grinned and held up the bag. “brought goodies! figured you guys could use fuel.”
cheers erupted from jiung and jongseob as they scrambled over. keeho clapped like you’d just saved his life. you giggled, setting the bag down, then went to sit beside intak. “you okay?” he nodded, eyes fixed on the floor. “just tired.” you reached to wipe some sweat from his temple with your sleeve. “you worked so hard. i’m proud of you.”
his jaw clenched. “don’t.”
you froze. “…don’t what?”
he finally looked at you, eyes sharp. “don’t smother me right now. i can’t breathe.” your chest tightened. “i was just-”
“you’re being clingy,” he snapped, louder this time. “i don’t need it right now.”
the room went dead silent.
keeho’s eyes widened. theo shot him a look. jiung and jongseob exchanged awkward glances, halfway through unwrapping a granola bar. you sat back slowly, heat flooding your cheeks. “…right. sorry.”
you stood abruptly, muttering something about needing air, and slipped out before anyone could stop you.
the practice room was thick with tension after the door shut.
“what the hell was that?” theo demanded, arms crossed. intak groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “i didn’t mean-” “you called her clingy,” keeho cut in, voice sharp. “in front of us. when she literally just brought us snacks?”
jiung smacked him lightly on the arm. “not cool.” intak’s chest twisted with guilt, but frustration still buzzed in his veins. “i was stressed. i couldn’t think.”
“well, think now,” jongseob muttered. “because y/n looked she wanted to cry.”
intak’s stomach dropped. without another word, he grabbed his cap and bolted for the door.
you sat on the bench outside the practice room, picking at the hem of your sleeve. your chest still stung, the word echoing in your head. clingy. too much. the door opened, and intak rushed out, breathless.
“baby-”
you stood quickly. “don’t. it’s fine. go back to practice.” “no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “practice can wait. you can’t.”
your eyes flicked away. “you made it pretty clear i can.” his heart squeezed. he reached for your hands, but you pulled them back.
“i’m sorry,” he blurted. “i didn’t mean it. i was frustrated, and i let it spill out the wrong way. you’re not clingy. god, you’re the opposite— you’re the only one who makes all this bearable.” you frowned, still hurt. “then why’d you say it?”
“because i’m an idiot,” he admitted instantly. “i was mad at myself, at my mistakes, and i lashed out at the one person i should never hurt. i swear, it wasn’t about you. it was about me not being good enough tonight.”
your throat tightened, tears threatening. “you made me feel like… like i was in the way.”
intak’s eyes softened, pained. he gently cupped your face, tilting it so you met his gaze. “you’re never in the way. you’re the reason i even get through days like this. when you wipe my sweat, when you cheer for me, when you just show up— it’s everything. i don’t deserve it, but i need it. i need you.”
you blinked, tears spilling despite yourself. “then don’t push me away.” his voice cracked. “i won’t. not again. i promise.”
you finally let him pull you into his arms, his hoodie damp against your cheek. he held you so tight it almost hurt, murmuring apologies into your hair. “you’re not clingy,” he whispered again and again. “you’re my safe place. i’m sorry i made you doubt that. i’ll make it up to you every day if i have to.”
you clung back, shaky but firm. “you better.”
he let out a soft, relieved laugh, kissing the top of your head. “yeah. i will.”
when you both returned to the practice room, the others tried to act casual, but keeho still shot intak a look.
intak tightened his grip on your hand, tugging you gently closer. “we’re good,” he said firmly, mostly to himself. you squeezed back, finally believing it.
˙⋆✮
soul - 白翔太
the dressing room buzzed with energy after the show. staff members hurried around, touching up makeup, collecting mics, tossing bottles of water into eager hands. keeho was joking with jiung, theo stretched his sore shoulders, and jongseob was scrolling through fan posts already.
you slipped through the crowd, eyes searching. finally, you found him.
soul sat off to the side on a folding chair, head bowed, towel draped over his neck. sweat clung to his skin, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. you crossed the room quickly, crouching down in front of him. “hey,” you said softly, offering him a water. “you killed it out there. the fans were so loud for you.”
he didn’t look at you. “thanks.”
you frowned. “are you okay? your shoulder- you looked like you were stretching it too much during the last song. want me to-” he shifted back, jaw tight. “i said i’m fine.”
you hesitated, then reached anyway, dabbing at the sweat on his cheek with a tissue. “you don’t have to pretend with me. i just-” “stop,” he snapped, swatting your hand away.
your chest jolted. “i-”
his eyes finally lifted, sharp and frustrated. “you’re being clingy. can you just give me a minute to breathe?” the room went quiet. a couple staff members froze mid-step. jiung’s head whipped around, eyes wide. theo’s smile faltered.
you felt the sting instantly, your face flushing hot.
clingy.
you pulled back your hand slowly, standing up on shaky legs. “…right. sorry.” you mumbled something about grabbing more tissues and slipped out the door before anyone could stop you.
inside, tension lingered. keeho raised an eyebrow. “seriously, soul?”
soul groaned, dragging both hands through his damp hair. “i didn’t— i didn’t mean it like that.” “sure sounded like you did,” theo muttered.
jiung shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “y/n was just trying to take care of you. you could’ve just said you needed space.” soul’s chest tightened. shame crept in, sour and heavy. he knew they were right. he’d seen the hurt in your eyes before you turned away.
and it was his fault.
you leaned against the cool wall outside, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep tears at bay. the backstage hallway was quiet except for the faint thrum of fans still screaming outside the venue.
clingy. like you were smothering him. like your love was a burden. you hugged yourself, heart aching. the door opened behind you, and hurried footsteps followed.
“baby.”
you looked up to see soul, hair still damp, panic written all over his face. you turned away. “shouldn’t you be inside celebrating?” he winced. “not without you.”
“you seemed fine without me a minute ago.”
the words cut, and he flinched.
“i didn’t mean it,” he said quickly. “i was overwhelmed. i couldn’t even hear myself think. i lashed out, and i used the worst word i could’ve picked.” your arms tightened around yourself. “you made me feel like i was suffocating you.”
he stepped closer, desperate. “no. you’re the only reason i can breathe on days like this. i swear, you’re not too much. you’re… you’re everything.”
you shook your head, voice small. “then why’d you say it?”
“because i’m an idiot,” he whispered. “because i was mad at myself for messing up a step, for being tired, for not being perfect— and instead of owning that, i pushed you away. i hurt the one person who was only trying to help.”
his voice cracked. “i hate that i did that to you. i hate that i made you doubt how much i need you.” slowly, he reached for your hands. this time, you let him take them. his grip was trembling but steady, grounding. “you’re not clingy,” he said, looking straight into your eyes. “you’re the one person who sees me when all of this—” he gestured vaguely toward the venue “—feels too big. you keep me sane. i’m so, so sorry i made you feel like a burden.”
your throat wobbled, the ache in your chest loosening just slightly. “don’t do it again.” he nodded quickly. “i won’t. never again. if i’m overwhelmed, i’ll tell you. i’ll never push you away like that.”
you searched his face, and all you saw was raw honesty. finally, you let out a shaky breath and leaned into him. he wrapped his arms around you instantly, holding you like he’d never let go. his hoodie was still damp from sweat, but you didn’t care.
“i need you,” he murmured into your hair. “cling to me all you want. i want it. i want you.”
you clung back, relief washing over you at last.
when you both walked back into the dressing room, everyone looked up. soul kept your hand firmly in his, expression set. “we’re okay.” he said quietly. keeho smirked. “better be.” jiung gave a small approving nod.
you squeezed soul’s hand, and this time, he squeezed back without hesitation. that night, when the lights were off and the noise of the day was gone, he whispered into the dark with your head on his chest:
“never too much. never clingy. just mine.”
and you believed him.
˙⋆✮
jongseob - 종섭
the dorm was unusually calm for a friday night. the other members were sprawled in the living room—keeho watching a movie, theo half-asleep with his hoodie up, jiung scrolling through his phone.
you were curled up on the end of the couch beside jongseob, legs tucked under you, head resting on his shoulder. he’d been quiet all evening, distracted by whatever track he was mixing on his laptop.
you didn’t mind at first. being near him was enough. you liked the way his warmth felt against your side, how his fingers tapped softly to a rhythm only he could hear.
but after nearly an hour of silence, you started tracing gentle circles on his arm. “you’ve been staring at the same screen for twenty minutes,” you said softly. “you okay?”
he hummed, barely looking up. “yeah.”
you smiled. “want me to get you a snack?”
“no, thanks.”
you shifted a little closer, resting your chin on his shoulder to peek at the project. “what’re you working on?” he sighed quietly. “just… something.” your smile faltered. “you’ve been kinda distant lately.”
that made him pause. just for a second—then his jaw tightened. “i’m just tired, y/n.” “i know, but-” you tried to wrap your arm around him, seeking closeness, something to melt the space between you.
but he pulled back a little, the movement small but sharp. “can you not?” you blinked. “not what?” his tone came out clipped, too harsh. “not cling so much. it’s a lot sometimes.”
the sound of it hit you like a slap.
even keeho glanced up from the movie, brows furrowing. theo lifted his head, still half-asleep with eyes flicking between you both. you froze, the air suddenly too heavy. “i was just… trying to be close to you.”
“yeah, well,” jongseob muttered, rubbing his face. “sometimes it’s too much. it's clingy.”
the room went dead silent.
you felt your throat tighten. “okay.” you stood up quickly, forcing a small smile. “i’ll give you space then.”
keeho started to say something, but you were already heading toward the hallway. when the sound of your door shutting echoed down the hall, the silence that followed was deafening.
keeho turned down the volume on the TV. “what was that?” jongseob groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “i don’t know. i just—i snapped.”
“yeah,” theo said flatly. “and you snapped at the wrong person.” jiung leaned forward. “she literally did nothing wrong.”
soul, who had been silent up until then, looked over from his game. “you’re in trouble.” jongseob slumped back against the couch. “i know. god, i know.” keeho sighed. “you’ve been stressed, sure, but that doesn’t give you the right to take it out on her. you better fix it.”
he didn’t even respond—just stood and disappeared down the hall, guilt written all over him. you were sitting on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow, trying not to cry.
the word clingy kept replaying in your head; like it had weight. like it meant too much. you’d only wanted to help, to be near him. but now all you felt was foolish.
a soft knock interrupted your spiral.
“y/n?” his voice came quietly from the other side of the door.
you didn’t answer.
he waited, then sighed. “can i come in?” after a long pause, you said, “yeah.” he slipped inside, eyes immediately landing on you; small, curled up, and clearly hurt.
his chest twisted. “i’m sorry.”
you didn’t look up. “you made me feel like i was annoying.”
he winced. “i didn’t mean that. i swear.”
“then why’d you say it?”
he hesitated, words fumbling out. “because i was tired, and my brain was loud, and i just… wanted quiet for a second. but i didn’t mean you were too much. i love that you’re close to me. i just-” he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “i said it wrong. i hurt you. and i hate that.”
you glanced at him, eyes glassy. “you really did.”
he nodded, walking closer slowly, like he was afraid to scare you off. “i know. i’m so sorry. you’re not clingy. you’re caring. you’re the only person who makes this place feel calm.”
you stayed quiet, chewing your lip.
“sometimes,” he said softly, “i get so lost in my own head that i forget how lucky i am to have someone who wants to be near me at all.” that cracked something open in you. you blinked, tears slipping free.
“come here,” he whispered.
you hesitated—then let him pull you in.
his arms wrapped around you tightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear. he buried his face in your shoulder, voice breaking against your skin. “i’m sorry. i love when you touch me. i love when you care. i love you. i just got stupid.”
your fingers curled into his hoodie, clinging back. “then don’t push me away next time.” “i won’t,” he promised instantly. “you can hold me all you want. forever, if you want.”
you laughed through a sniffle. “that’s a little clingy.”
he smiled, relief flooding his expression. “guess we’re both clingy then.”
when you both rejoined the others in the living room, it was quieter softer somehow.
keeho didn’t say anything, just gave a little nod when he saw your hand in jongseob’s again. theo muttered, “good job,” without looking up. jiung smiled faintly.
you curled up next to him on the couch again, and this time, when you rested your head on his shoulder, he didn’t move away.
instead, his hand found yours under the blanket.
and just before you drifted off, you heard him whisper, barely audible, “cling to me all you want, baby. i’m not going anywhere.”
˙⋆✮
a/n : thank you for reading & thank you for 400 followers<3
synopsis . . . texts , instagram, & twitter interactions between you and your boyfriend, keeho.
note: i have to physically restrain myself from posting multiple times a day this shit is so fun. i have a fwb!theo smau in the drafts for tmrw stay tuned 🤫
bf!keeho who makes you give him a goodbye kiss every time you leave his place, puckering his lips or pointing at his cheek before you leave
and if you forget it’s over for you fr cause he will take full offense and look at you like you grew two heads if you try to leave without giving him a good bye kiss
bf!keeho who smacks your butt any time he gets the change, definitely the type to hug you and get a handful of your ass
won’t do all that in public but he will definitely put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans while walking around the store or wtv
bf! keeho who likes it when you kiss his cheek after doing your lip combo and it leaves a kiss print
definitely takes a thirst trap pic with it and posts it on his instagram in a photo dump LOL
“wait…this is low key eating can you kiss me one more time on the cheek?” — keeho cause he be on his aesthetic shit like that
bf!keeho who gives you princess treatment, the type to side eye guys who make their gfs split the bill
randomly brings your flowers, no special occasion needed, the type to hand you his card when you’re going to your nail appointment
will definitely help you pick out your next nail design if you ask, sends you posts on instagram of nail designs he saw and liked and tells you it would look good on you
bf!keeho who isn’t shy when it comes to giving you affection but will definitely be geeked if you’re the one initiating it LOL
definitely would be cheesing hard af from a simple peck on the lips especially if you cup his cheek
bf!keeho who gets cuteness aggression with you, pecking your lips, cheeks, forehead, literally your entire face while caging you in his arms so you won’t run away from him
honestly he’d be head over heels for you, would to anything to make you happy because your his baby :(
notes : didnt proof read again and wrote this while in class loll couldn’t stop thinking about it
Hi wife, i have a fluff request for a shorter fic😋 with either keeho or jiung you pick but reader was injured (maybe broke an arm or leg doing something INCREDIBLY stupid😭) and she calls them from the hospital so they can pick her up and when they do they're just like how tf did u manage to do that then a little bit of them taking care of reader. Hope this inspires you!!
𓆩⟡𓆪 note || anything for wifey @liliesonthego <3 || no, this is not based on a real story
“So you’re telling me,” Keeho starts, staring blankly at you over the console, the car still parked in the hospital garage. “You broke your pinky… not playing basketball?”
You refuse to meet his eye as you pout and cradle your casted finger to your chest. “Well it sounds stupid when you put it that way.”
And he has the nerve to start laughing at you.
You reach out with your left hand to smack blindly at him, still refusing to look at him. “Don’t laugh, I’m injured!”
“Barely," he cackles through a wheezing laugh. “Baby, you broke a finger by not playing a sport. How does that even happen?!”
You whip around to glare at him while he continues to squeak in laughter, nearly doubling over himself in the drivers seat.
“I told you! I was just standing there on the sidelines, waiting to be called in, and then that idiot that can’t shoot hoops was shooting hoops and threw that ball right at me.”
He only laughs harder.
So you turn and open the car door, ready to leave the car but Keeho grabs the back of your sweater and pulls you right back in.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”
His laughter dies down as you settle back into your seat and shut the door, but he’s still snickering and giggling as he starts the car.
“Of course you’d get injured because of something that ridiculous.”
“Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight, Keeho?"
He reverses out of the parking space, giggling. “Sure, if you need the whole bed to recover from your terrible acci— ow! Okay, sorry!”
The rest of the drive is quiet. Keeho’s a little too scared to say anything more in fear of getting punched again but you can still see the smile he’s fighting from the corner of your eye.
As soon as you get home, you beeline to the kitchen for a cup of coffee to ease away the headache you’re starting to nurse.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Keeho asks as he rushes after you and swipes the mug out of your hand.
You stare at him as he looks down at you with narrowed eyes.
“Making coffee?”
He clicks his tongue and grabs you by the waist, gently moving you aside and placing you against the kitchen island.
“No, you’re injured,” he states as he turns to the coffee machine. “You should be asking me to do these things for you.”
You half expect him to start laughing at you again but the pinch between his brows and the concentrated frown on his lips as he starts to assemble your cup tells you otherwise.
You hold your bad hand to your chest as you watch him. “I thought this was a non-injury?” You huff pettily.
He looks at you over his shoulder and tells you, in all seriousness, “It’s my job to take care of even non-injuries as your loving boyfriend.”
You only let the smile tugging on your lips bloom when he’s turned back to the coffee.
“Do I get extra coddling now too?” You ask him after a while of just watching him work.
He turns to you with your freshly made cup and a smile on his face. “Anything for my baby.”
You let yourself grin. “Well then I won’t complain.”
You reach for the mug but he quickly pulls it away from you. Before you can complain, he’s holding the mug up to your lips.
You look up at him with a raised brow and he only responds by pushing the cup closer.
You roll your eyes fondly but indulge him, sipping from the cup.
“Well?” He asks you expectantly, watching the way you lick off the droplets from your lips.
You hum in content, giggling a little when he fusses over a stray droplet at the corner of your mouth with a tissue.
“It’s perfect,” you tell him, trying to take the mug from him again but he pulls it out of your reach and places it down.
He picks up your injured hand instead, holding it delicately between his larger ones.
“Are you going to kiss it better?” You ask him when all he does is stare at the little purple cast.
“I will,” he says, looking up at you with a tiny pout. “Only if you promise to be more careful.”
You’re overly fond at his switch up but if it means him being all cute and worried over you, you won’t complain.
Giving him a cheeky smile, you lift up your injured pinky. “Pinky promise.”
He rolls his eyes dramatically, but takes that hand and presses a soft kiss over the cast, fighting off a fond smile of his own. “Pinky promise.”
okayyy how about writing for jiung or keeho and the reader is craving for their attention while they’re busy on their phone or wtv so the reader is like being all sulky poking them just demanding their man’s attention and they have no choice but to give in and give all the cuddles and kisses the reader is craving?? 🙂↕️🙂↕️
ᝰ.ᐟ needy || keeho
synopsis | you've never been shy about being needy for attention and keeho's never been one for denying you
Pouting usually gets you whatever you want but Keeho seems insistent tonight on ignoring you for his manager on the phone.
There he is, ready for bed with his pretty girlfriend sitting in her cutest set of pajamas just waiting for him and he’s still not paying you any mind.
No, he’s too busy discussing scheduling conflicts at 10pm on a weekend to give you any attention.
You sit there glaring at him with your arms crossed as he paces the room and speaks into his phone.
“Kyo,” you say, not too loud so as to not be annoying.
All he does is glance at you and mouth a ‘one minute’ before his attention falls back to the call.
You wait out the sixty seconds, then army crawl your way to the edge of the bed and swipe at his leg as he passes by.
He jumps at the sudden contact and blinks down at you with questioning eyes.
You look up at him with your most dramatic pout and that gets a smile tugging on his lips. But he still doesn’t hang up, just opts to stand by you and scratch affectionately at your head.
It’s nice for a few moments but it’s not enough. So you prop up onto your knees while shoving your head up his shirt, pressing your face against the soft flesh of his stomach. Then you bite down.
“I was thinking we could— ow!”
You pull out from under, giggling at the baffled look on his face as his hand presses against the spot you’d just attacked him at.
His eyes narrow at you. “Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow morning, I gotta take care of something.” Then he’s hanging up, not bothering to wait for a response, and then tackling you down on the bed.
You screech through your giggles as he starts to poke at your sides. “Hey, no!”
“You little shit,” he jibes through his own laughs before bracing himself on his hands on either side of you to hover over you. “You just couldn’t wait a few minutes?”
You try to pout but it’s hard to smother down the giggles that rise up at his ‘glare’, his own smile undercutting his feigned annoyance. “You were taking forever! I was being neglected over here.”
He rolls his eyes in an over exaggerated manner before he grabs you by the waist and manhandles you to lay out properly on the bed.
“You’re so dramatic,” he huffs before dropping his entire weight on top of you.
You grunt under his heft, wriggling around to shove him off but he doesn’t budge. “Oh you’re one to talk.”
You immediately regret it when he starts to tickle you again. “What’s that?” He asks you, grinning as you thrash and yell under him.
“Okay okay, I’m sorry!” You concede through your hysterics and he finally relents.
Keeho laughs, scooping your body up in his arms and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “So needy,” he teases lightly, pressing a kiss to your skin.
“Needy for you,” you sing, laughing when he ew’s and calls you cheesy.
You laugh even harder when he starts to riff Needy by Ariana and attempts to lull you to sleep with that.
