kaiye

tite butete

[sleepybibliophilee]

୨୧∘₊sibling shenanigans

𑣲summary: random text between you and your siblings

𑣲characters: rin, sae

𑣲content: crack, ooc (might've gotten carried away), shidou mentioned, ryusae subtly implied, isagi mentioned, mentions of death, fluffish, horse testicles?

𑣲a/n: another request that has been sitting in my inbox.

𑣲masterlist

dividers: @/diviniyae

[seonghrtz]

OUT OF MY LEAGUE !

ㅤㅤ𝒮 YNOPS𝑖S,ㅤㅤyou're way out of jude's league, according to the public. ͏

𝒘. ͏ ͏͏ jude bellingham 𖬺 singer!reader ͏ ͏͏ ᡴꪫ ͏ ͏͏ smau ͏ ͏͏ 𝒇luff ͏ ͏͏ + ͏ ͏͏ cw. established relationship ͏ ͏͏ implicit time skip ͏ ͏͏ requested ͏ ͏͏ ⸻ ͏ ͏͏ fc: lame cobain.

yourusername

liked by zaralarsson, judebellingham, theestallion and others

yourusernameㅤ an unforgettable night ✨️✨️ thank you, london, i hope we see each other again soon 💋

view all comments

username1ㅤ i think it's ridiculous how people keep posting that they were at the concert

⤷ username2ㅤ why???

⤷ username1ㅤ i wasn't there

theestallionㅤ 🔥🔥🔥ㅤ𖹭 by author

⤷ username3ㅤ omg i NEED another feat

⤷ username4ㅤ SO REAL!! i still haven't gotten over roc steady

username5ㅤ she was simply ethereal ✨️✨️

username6ㅤ the feeling of seeing this woman on stage is surreal

username7ㅤ MY QUEEN 👑🐾

username8ㅤ i wish i were jude bellingham

⤷ username9ㅤ as if he could handle this woman 🙄🙄

⤷ username10ㅤ girl what are you talking about???

⤷ username11ㅤ at the beginning of yn's unholy hours era, people started speculating about who the songs on the album were about, then a girl on twitter made a huge thread comparing the lyrics to jude bellingham. but they were never seen together, even though they were spotted in the same place before

⤷ username10ㅤ but didn't jude already mention in an interview a few months ago that he was dating someone???

⤷ username11ㅤ yes!! but he never said who it was, and the photos never show his girlfriend's face, so people speculate that it is indeed yn

⤷ username10ㅤ you really need to touch some grass......

username12ㅤ the biggest fomo of my life

username13ㅤ the end of an era 😔

⤷ username14ㅤ i can't believe her tour is over 💔💔

⤷ username15ㅤ i hope that the end of this era represents the beginning of another, more iconic one

⤷ username14ㅤ we're talking about yn!! of course she'll always be iconic

yourusername

♬ㅤyn ･ touch my body

liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, duquesa and others

yourusernameㅤ 💋💋

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zaralarssonㅤpretty girl 🩷ㅤ𖹭 by author

⤷ yourusernameㅤ youuu ❤️

⤷ username1ㅤ girls, when are the feat coming out???

⤷ zaralarssonㅤsoon 🤫🤫

⤷ username1ㅤ OMFGSKSKSJSKSKAAAAH

username2ㅤ her back must ache so much from carrying the weight of being the most beautiful woman on the planet

username3ㅤ pretending i didn't notice the bellingham brothers and half the football players in the likes...

⤷ username4ㅤ relax guys everyone's a fan of yn!!

⤷ username5ㅤ imagine being this iconic

username6ㅤ she's so pretty— SOFT LAUNCHING?????????

⤷ username7ㅤ i had the same reaction 😭😭

⤷ username8ㅤ guys i don't think i'm ready for this

⤷ username9ㅤ OMG is this really happening?????

username10ㅤ OMG WHO IS THIS GUY????

⤷ username11ㅤ GIRL i’m dying of curiosity to find out who he is

⤷ username12ㅤ me too!!

⤷ username13ㅤ i have a hunch...

⤷ username10ㅤ who is it???

⤷ username14ㅤ for the love of god don’t say it’s jude bellingham

⤷ username13ㅤ then i don’t have a hunch anymore

⤷ username14ㅤ what’s your thing with this guy??

⤷ usernams15ㅤ i saw a tiktok edit and i think they make a cute couple....

⤷ username14ㅤ 🙄🙄

username16ㅤ does your boyfriend know how to fight??? just asking for a friend....

username17ㅤ girl you can't just do a soft launch out of the blue like that!!!!! give some advance notice first

⤷ username18ㅤ girl... i think that was the advance notice.......

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

yourusername

♬ㅤyn ･ ART

liked by judebellingham, k.mbappe, pinkpantheress and others

yourusernameㅤ your A-R-T ✨️

view all comments

erlingㅤ finally 🙏🙏ㅤ𖹭 by author and judebellingham

jobebellinghamㅤ what happened to the soft launch?

⤷ yourusernameㅤ you won't believe it......

zaralarssonㅤ you guys are so cute!ㅤ𖹭 by author

username1ㅤ GIRL THAT'S NOT A SOFT LAUNCH

username2ㅤ so... unholy hours... it's about.... jude bellingham....

⤷ username3ㅤ there's a good chance it's

username4ㅤ THIS IS FOR EVERYONE WHO CALLED ME CRAZY

username5ㅤ EVERYONE CAN GO APOLOGIZE TO THE GIRL ON TWITTER NOW

username6ㅤ what??? how?? when? where?????

username7ㅤ i need a podcast telling all the details from the moment they met until he asked her out

username8ㅤ two hot people dating... again...

⤷ username8ㅤ when will it be my turn????

username9ㅤ these two are so cute ☺️ i wish i were right in the middle of it ☺️

username10ㅤ SHE SAID IT WOULD BE A SOFT LAUNCH ‼️‼️ THIS IS NOT A SOFT LAUNCH, YN

username11ㅤ jude must be laughing at everyone who said he couldn’t handle this woman

username12ㅤ that's not fair.... i was here first!!

username13ㅤ jude, do you know how to fight?

⤷ judebellinghamㅤ yes!

⤷ username13ㅤ OMFG

username14ㅤ is your girlfriend single, jude?

⤷ judebellinghamㅤ no

⤷ username14ㅤ short and sweet 😶

username15ㅤ i have fun watching jude respond to the comments 🤣🤣 this man had enough of their bullshit

username16ㅤ always a man who’s doing well in life

judebellinghamㅤ love u ❤️

⤷ yourusernameㅤ love u more ❤️

⤷ judebellinghamㅤ yeah... that’s impossible

© seonghrtz, 2026. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works!

[abernathologies]

good graces — ⋆.˚𖦹 ju. bellingham x popstar!reader

synopsis ; during her london residency, a pop star makes tradition of arresting celebrities for being too hot. jude bellingham, who has seen the videos and knows exactly what happens to the people she picks out of the crowd, is certain he can avoid becoming tonights victim. unfortunately for him, she spots him anyway.

warnings ; sexual innuendos/ jokes ⋆ kinda bad writing (spare me its my first post on tumblr lol)

the energy inside the O2 was electric. london’s biggest arena stretched out before you, brimming with fans dressed in pastels, sequins, and glitter, their voices rising above the music as they sang your own lyrics back to you. the stage shifted with every song, bathed in bright pinks and warm, vivid colours as you initially rushed onto it at the beginning of the show, before sinking into deeper, moodier hues of blues and purples for a handful of b-side tracks that had the crowd screaming in joy-stricken shock. through it all, the flashy smile on your face never faltered. the exhilaration was genuine, the feeling of being onstage still just as overwhelming as it had always been. there was nowhere else you would rather be.

by the time the sun had fallen, washing london in darkness and shadows, the focus of your show had shifted to its next segment. you paced around the mainstage, the backup dancers who felt more like family than colleagues now trailing behind you in a series of rehearsed slides and twirls. one held a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, another twirled a strand of hair around her pointer finger, each of them playing their parts as you fanned yourself dramatically and sashayed towards tonight’s victim of what some called the highlight of the show; the celebrity arrests.

“woah—someone, can we get a spotlight over here?” you gasp into your bejewelled microphone, the trio made up of you and two of your backup dancers making your way down the aisle of the stage as a siren begins to go off and red and blue lights flash around you in imitation of police cars. you come to a stop once you’re right in front of him, jude bellingham, who looks around himself in utter surprise as he stands alone between the barricade and the stage.

the crowd beyond you and him erupts, a roar that only grows louder as the cameras finally pan towards the footballer, a sea of phones rising to capture the moment. you’re bent over giggling by the time you turn your attention back to him, “excuse me, what’s your name?” you ask, tilting the microphone towards him and awaiting his response.

“jude!” he yells, cupping both hands around his mouth and leaning slightly towards you, as if the gesture might somehow help bridge the distance between you, the stage, and the deafening sound of thousands of people shouting over one another.

the flashes of the bright police lights illuminate him in quick bursts, red and blue washing over the sharp, angular lines of his face and the flex of his toned arms. he takes a moment to look around again, eyes still wide as he grins and waves to the mass of fans beyond him, settling into the atmosphere and sudden attention around him.

“jude,” you parrot, dragging each syllable of his name out as though testing it on your tongue. your head tilts, one finger coming to rest against your chin in exaggerated thought, “and where are you from, jude?”

“birmingham!” he replies, gaze fixing back onto you infront of him, prompting another eruption of cheers from the crowd.

suddenly, your expression shifts. the feigned look of question fades into one of recognition, as though a lightbulb has just flickered on above your head, “oh, i know you!” you exclaim, your excitement only further fuelled by the screams around you. “you play football, right?”

jude nods his head sheepishly, one arm extending towards the back of his neck, seeking refuge at the nape of it as warmth pulses across his cheeks, a faint blush appearing over his tawny skin. he continues to beam up at you, pearly white teeth on display.

“yeah…” you hum, the word drawn out thoughtfully as your eyes flicker over the entirety of him. “so, that must mean you’re really good at scoring?”

the rhetoric spills out half-question, half-innuendo, and the crowd is hysterical before the words have even fully tumbled out of your mouth. you bite your lip, returning to fanning yourself as you look around in frantics, leaning into your backup dancers as though the weight of your own joke has suddenly become too much to bear.

jude’s face scrunches up as the meaning behind your joke finally catches up to him, his mouth falling open into a small ‘o’ as he shakes his head in dismay. several angles of the stage cameras catch him mouthing, that’s mad, in reaction, clearly trying to decide whether you really just said that to him in front of an entire sold-out arena full of people. and if they couldn’t see the heat on his face before, they definitely could now.

“oh my god, i just—” you stutter, glancing back at him. “you’re so gorgeous—i’m getting so flustered, overwhelmed—like, um…”

your vision flickers towards the pink handcuffs dangling in hands to the left of you, then back towards a disconcerted jude, “i think i’m going to have to arrest you for being so hot!”

as if on cue, your backup dancers nod their heads in agreement, one of them beginning to clap as the other reaches to hand you the handcuffs. but she barely gets the chance to pass them over before the long, pink skirt draped over your legs suddenly gives away, falling and pooling around the bottom of your custom-made boots and onto the floor that made up the stage. the reveal leaves you in a shorter version of the same skirt, the material now cutting off mid-thigh as the crowd explodes all over again. in all the commotion you finally take hold of the cuffs and step over the fabric at your feet, “okay, mr. handsome football player, here’s my gift for you,” you purr with a wink, “go back to playing with those balls now.”

the cameras project the small hand-off onto the screens for everyone to watch, howls of laughter, whooping, and pleas for the next song to begin cutting through the moment. jude takes the whole thing like a champ, holding his arms up in surrender as a sudden bout of confidence seems to settle into his stature, practically asking to be handcuffed by you.

the two of you dissolve into laughter at his antics, your head tossed back as he takes hold of the iconically scandalous handcuffs with a nod of thanks, lifting them above his head for the cameras and the thousands of fans watching.

“someone’s eager,” you mumble, watching him wave the cuffs around in the air as the crowd explodes all over again.

the chaos of it all reaches its peak as the lighting begins to lift, the stage slowly becoming concealed beneath a wash of light blue as you make your way back into position alongside your backup dancers. the first few chords of juno begin to play, the familiar intro cutting through the noise of the arena as you spin around to face the crowd, to face jude.

“this song is dedicated to jude, everyone,” you announce, the grin still lingering across your face. “here is juno!”

a/𝒏 — hiii guys 😳😳 first post on tumblr after lurking on here for literally forever... thank you for getting this far and reading this !!! also like halfway through writing this i kinda realized why would jude bellingham be at a sabrina carpenter concert ?? but uhh ykw i think shes had crazier celebrity arrests on her tour. so again, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed <3

[emm1ch1]

happy world cup final everyone

and this is a reference

[ar1kie]

Doodles Hugoloki + Bunny being stupid

[eldritchenthusiast]

Top 10 pictures taken years before disaster

[vmlnrzmp4]

⟡ ── jamais vu | BLUE LOCK

feeling of unfamiliarity with a familiar situation ; boyfriend crushing on his own girlfriend

✦ ITOSHI SAE

it wasn't unusual that you'd fall asleep randomly. studying, work, reading. today, you fall asleep watching tv with sae on the couch.

he turns the tv off, gently carrying you to the bedroom, mumbling something about you already falling asleep anywhere but the bed.

you hum sleepily as he carefully places you on the bed, covering you with the blanket. he tucks a strand of hair away from your face. and then he just...looks.

he has tucked you in many times like this. but everytime he does it, it's always the little things he notices. so damn familiar but always managing to melt sae's cold heart.

"what's wrong with me..." sae mutters to himself, tracing your features with gentle fingers. he sees you scrunch your nose. and he swears he has never seen anything more precious. you are precious.

✦ ITOSHI RIN

you've been together for a long time now. it shouldve been easy for him to hold your hand.

however everytime, he's wiping his sweaty palms on the side of his pants, making excuses like he's just fixing the phone in his pocket.

and yet...his palms stay sweaty.

still, you pretend you don't notice so that he doesn't get embarrassed.

many times, you had to initiate in a very mundane way. like now, the pedestrian light turns green, you take his hand as the two of you cross the road.

the moment was quick, and lasted less than like thirty seconds. you leave his hand, walking ahead. but then you stop, turning to face him. he exhales, extending his hand for you to hold. everytime, it's the same thing he requests without saying anything. and each time, it feels like the first 'can we hold hands?'.

✦ ISAGI YOICHI

"your tie is crooked," you say, and before he could reply, you're standing infront of him, fixing the fabric of his tie.

you smoothen the fabric, then gently tighten it again, properly this time.

yoichi has seen you closer, he has kissed you, made love to you. still, moments like these give him butterflies.

"there," you smile, reaching to push back his hair, "handsome."

youve done this all the time. before interviews or family dinners or functions. fixing his tie, hair and calling him handsome.

he grabs your wrist before you could step back, and places a lingering peck on your lips, "thank you," not for fixing his tie. but for making him nervous in the best way possible.

✦ MICHAEL KAISER

times like these, michael forgets how to kiss. he has kissed you multiple times. morning kisses, bye bye kisses. kisses all over his face, him doing the same to you.

don't even get started on how beautiful you look and glow after he kisses your lips. the way you smile at him, he feels euphoria inside.

he tilts your chin up with two fingers, kisses you once, then stares at you with heart eyes.

"angel..."

"yes?"

"...nothing. you're too fucking beautiful," which you are. but also that you make him forget that you're not his crush anymore. you're his. and he's yours.

he forgets that he can kiss you anytime and anywhere. so he kisses you like he's running out of time.

"every time i do this," he says gently against your lips, "it feels too fucking short," he kisses you again, "every kiss feels short," every kiss makes him want more.

you gently pull back, just to look at his face, "haven't you had enough?" you whisper, but honestly, you don't wanna stop too.

"never enough," he says as his mouth collides with yours again. just like the first time when he kissed you after holding back for so long.

[yorikae]

KAISER gets nightmares ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ib this 𓏻 kinda ooc

kaiser was a hothead in every aspect of his life.

to his friends, to his teammates, to his coach and most definitely to his rivals.

but he tried his best not to be like that with you.

you his precious, beautiful, innocent eyed girlfriend who he refused to have live in fear of him the same way he used to be in fear of his father.

he couldn’t have that.

he was lucky enough that as hot headed as he was, you never held what he did against him, never made him feel bad and held your own against his attacks knowing it’s coming from a place of hurt.

he would never do anything. to jeopardize the home and the sacuntary he built in the presence and because of you.

yet and still he couldn’t help what his subconscious does, can he?

time to time kaiser would get nightmares, after a long day, a rough game, one too many missed goals at practice or the opposing team scored in the last minutes of a match he wanted to be a wipeout you name it.

but you could always tell, just when enough was able to tip him off that day to ruin your night.

when kaiser went to sleep, it was no telling how he would wake up, what emotion he would be feeling or what dream he would have. i mean like anyone else right?

and just like every few months when his day was exceptionally bad, kaiser had a night terror.

his body was squishing in bed, his arm tightened around you, his accent deepened as he cursed out in german and trashed along side the bed until your hand smoothed down the back of his bed hair, and shushed him.

his eyes flew open, grabbing your wrist that was rubbing him and froze, his piercing blue eyes slowly got used to the dark as his chest gasped for breath for what felt like the first time in minutes.

his eyes adjusted and they caught the outline of your face, the light tremor in your hand and the way you bit your lip out of nervousness.

“shit..”

“es ist schon wieder passiert?” (it happens again?)

“i’m sorry.” he murmured sleepily, letting go of your wrist and engulfing your entire body in his warmth, “don’t be scared.”

you both laid there in silence for what felt like hours, his hand rubbing the back of your head subconsciously, which you knew he wouldn’t remember in the morning from his sleepy consciousness.

and soon enough, his breathing evened out, his hand stopped it movement and he was still again. and finally maybe an hour later, crushed against his chest you were able to find some solice and sleep too.

other nights you’re not as lucky.

some nights, kaiser asked from his terror and still thinks he’s there.

his breath would be caught in his throat, his eyes wild and he would pin you away from his body before he fully recognized what was going on.

and tonight was no different, just that this time he was angry.

he rolled out of bed on the floor, head clutched in his hands as he tried to make sense of this.

“micheal…”

“don’t.”

“but it’s okay—”

your voice whispered, eyes stinging with tears watching how he hates himself for having another terror, as if he could help it.

“don’t blame yourself…you’re here, you’re safe now.”

“you don’t know that” he seethed as he started pacing, “das ist totaler schwachsinn. und du hilfst damit überhaupt nicht” (this is some bullshit. and youre not helping!)

he scrunched his hands in his hair, letting out a scream before his eyes settled on the moon glaring back at him from the window.

“micheal…”, and hearing the way your voice cracked in the middle of the darkness, he’d look up eyes scouring your face as he felt his hands get peaked away from his face.

“i did this…again.”

“but i’m not scared…i just want you to be okay..”

and that’s when kaiser realized the difference, he thought he was scarred and flawed, his fathers son through and through.

he didn’t instill fear in you, he just had the fear of himself losing control and losing you.

as selfish as it may seem.

yorikae

el oh el i cannot write angst for shit

[accreditedcondolences]

futile devices — l. luna | masterlist

It’s bright and early outside. Your children are on holiday, and your husband doesn’t have to go away to kick a ball for any tournament or job for once. Everything is great, and your whole family is back together.

The peacefulness doesn’t last long, though. Your sons have always been more on the rowdy side, constantly fighting or yelling about something. You aren’t sure just where they pick it up from — neither you or Leonardo have been that kind of child when young. The sound of tussling brings you out of your stupor, and you immediately feel a migraine coming.

“Boys, stop fighting!” You yell from the kitchen, sighing as you plate up your children’s breakfast. The tussling stops, but you can still hear them bickering from the living room.

“It’s not my fault you’re horrible at moving a silly joystick,” Your eldest son Emiliano prods at his brother. “You literally cheated! That’s all you ever do, and that’s why nobody likes playing FIFA in this house!” Leandro’s already high voice raises a few more octaves.

“Gosh, why are you even fighting me about something from last night? Papa beat the both of us anyway, so just suck it up.” Emiliano’s voice picks up a familiar deadpan tone. He did resemble you a lot aside from his looks, after all.

You can sense the both of them getting riled up again, and you honestly debate sending the both of them out of the house alongside their father.

Speaking of their father, a shadow that appears next to you might just be your saving grace. You sigh as your husband wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “Buenos días, mi vida.”

“Good morning, Leo. Do me a favor, would you?” You don’t wait for him to reply. “Control your sons before they flip the dining table over.”

Leo chuckles above you, humming his agreement. He does not move just yet, though. “What do I get in return, hm?” You roll your eyes. “It’s a favor, Leo. You don’t get anything in return.”

He pouts above you, you can tell from the way he sags. He leans down to be level with your head, resting his chin on your shoulder. “How about a kiss? Right here.” He taps on his cheek.

You sigh deeply. Your husband is just as much trouble as your sons are, if not more. You suppose there is someone they got it from, after all. You give in anyway, leaning in to peck his cheek.

However, just as your lips are about to make contact with his skin, he twists his head left so that his own mouth is in place of his cheek. You are caught off guard at the warm, plush feeling of his lips on yours, and he takes that opportunity to turn you over, pressing you into the counter.

“Leo,” you grumble with annoyance as he deepens the kiss, yet your hands find his shoulders anyway. He grins, knowing he is always victorious in this losing battle with you. “Breakfast is going to burn.”

“Let it burn,” he mumbles against your mouth. “You make much better of a meal, anyway.” You roll your eyes internally. You hear the beginnings of another tussle happening after a long, suspicious silence from the boys, making you peel your husband off of you. “Happy now? Go handle your sons before they destroy the living room.”

Leo sighs dramatically, feigning sulking as he goes to find your two sons who are presumed to be fighting again. You don’t catch what he says to them, but you’ll take it, since the boys are quiet and peaceful now.

You set the table and call for them. Your husband appears just in time, Leandro in one arm and Emiliano holding the other. You smile at the sight. Your boys, all three blond-haired and green eyed. You’re still bitter about it internally — you’d be happy with at least one that had your hair or eyes, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Well, Emiliano has heterochromia, so you suppose there is a piece of you in him.

It brings you back to a few years ago, when you were in the hospital, fresh from the birth of your second son. You recall bringing it up to Leonardo, then.

“Why do they both look like you?” You sigh, your lips forming a pout. You cradle your newborn son, Leandro, as he gurgles up at you, staring you down with those giant emerald irises. You smile down at him, thumb gently brushing gold pieces of hair from his adorable face. Your gaze finds your husband.

Leonardo holds your then-toddler Emiliano in his arms as he slumbers soundly. He smiles at you then, albeit smugly. “What can I say, amor? My genes are strong.”

You shake your head, laughing dryly. You can’t bring yourself to be mad — after all, your children are, admittedly, the cutest in the world.

“Buuut,” Your husband speaks again. “If it really bothers you that much, amor, I suppose we could try for anothe—“

“No way,” You shut him down immediately. Giving birth to both your sons were already hard enough. Another one? You’d thought you were done making babies after this one. “I’m sure you have a better excuse for getting into my panties, Leo.”

Your words pull a chuckle out of him. “Yes, yes. I suppose I should up my game, shouldn’t I? Not that it’s necessary, since my wife doesn’t want any more babies.” You glare at him the moment he utters those words.

Shaking off the thought, you beckon your children over. “Come sit,” you say, taking your own seat as Leo lets your youngest down from his arms, the two boys scurrying to take the seat next to you.

“I was first, so I got to sit with mama!” Your youngest says, clambering up into the seat. Emiliano huffs. “Who cares if you’re first? I’m mama’s favorite, so I get to sit with mama.” Your boys seem to find all types of ways to bicker about something.

Your husband, thankfully, steps in without you needing to tell him to. Leo tuts at your children, picking the both of them up by the scruff like one would with a cat. “Ah ah, have you boys forgotten that it is I, papa, who should sit next to mama?” He tucks them both into their respective chairs across from you. “I am her actual favorite, after all. Isn’t that right?” Leo directs it to you, finally taking his own seat next to you.

Emiliano looks at you with betrayal written all over his face, and Leandro is pouting so hard he might as well get frown lines. “That’s not true! And even if it was, that’s not fair either! You’re mama’s husband, so it doesn’t count!” Leandro whines, kicking his feet.

You shake your head, completely resigned. Your husband always manages to cause more trouble than not. “Just eat your food, boys.”

“No, tell us, mi vida. Who is your favorite boy?” Leo pushes, beaming at you with that stupid, oh-so innocent smile. “I’m sure all of us would like to know.”

“Tell us, tell us, mama!” Your boys say in unison. You sigh deeply — it’s a wonder you haven’t been diagnosed with high blood pressure yet.

afterword — nyehe… i wonder, who really is wifey’s favorite? 🤔

[sevarchive]

content . . ৎ → in which they reluctantly discover that "happy wife, happy life" might just be the secret to a happy marriage with you ☆

ft. rin itoshi, julien loki, michael kaiser, reo mikage, shidou ryusei, barou shoei, and godwin kuso ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

˚₊‧꒰ა ITOSHI RIN

The shopping bag looked strangely out of place in Rin's hand.

Normally, he'd come home carrying groceries, sports drinks, or whatever happened to be on his list after training. Today, however, he stood by the front door holding an oversized paper bag that looked suspiciously difficult to explain.

Across the living room, you barely acknowledged his arrival.

"Welcome home," you mumbled without looking away from the television.

A familiar voice echoed through the speakers.

"Where's everyone going? Bingo?"

It had become something of a weekend tradition for the two of you. Rin loves horror games almost as much as football, so your evenings often ended with the two of you replaying Resident Evil together. He'd focus on conserving ammunition and solving puzzles.

You, unfortunately, were much more invested in Leon Kennedy.

Rin glanced from the television to the shopping bag in his hand before quietly setting his keys down.

"...You've played this game four times."

"I know."

"You already know what happens."

"I know."

"You still laughed."

"...Because Leon's funny."

Rin stared at the blond man on the television for a long second.

"...Can you pause the game for a second?"

That finally caught your attention.

You turned around, only to find him nudging the paper bag toward you with the same reluctant expression people wore when handing over paperwork they didn't want to sign.

Curiosity quickly replaced your confusion. You reached inside, your fingers brushing against soft fabric before finding... considerably more fabric than expected.

"...Rin?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he rested an elbow against the armrest, already looking like someone preparing himself for the consequences of his own decisions.

"You kept saying it was sold out," he said simply. "So... I bought it."

You pulled the contents free.

Silence settled over the living room.

A life-sized Leon Kennedy body pillow stared back at you.

You looked at Leon.

Then at Rin.

Then back at Leon again.

"...You bought me the Leon Kennedy body pillow?"

Rin avoided your eyes with impressive determination.

"You've mentioned wanting one every single time we've walked past that hobby store." A quiet sigh escaped him. "After the eighth visit, I figured listening to you mourn it forever would be more exhausting than buying it."

The realization hit all at once.

Without a shred of dignity, you hugged the pillow to your chest as though reuniting with a long-lost lover.

"...Leon."

Across the room, Rin watched his own spouse enthusiastically embrace another man.

Granted, the other man happened to be printed on polyester. Oh, that technicality did very little for his mood.

"Oh my gosh... Rin, look at him! They actually used the official artwork!" You turned the pillow around excitedly, admiring every little detail as though it belonged in a museum. "The jacket! The gloves! They even got the stupid haircut right! This is literally the sold-out version!"

You looked seconds away from crying tears of joy.

"I've wanted this forever..."

"...You really like it," he observed quietly.

"I love it!" You immediately wrapped both arms around the pillow again, happily squeezing it against your chest. "I don't think you understand how impossible these are to find anymore. Rin, this is genuinely the best surprise you've ever given me!"

"...I see."

His response came quietly.

You were far too busy admiring the body pillow to notice.

"It'll look so cute on the bed... Oh! Or maybe the couch? Actually..." You tilted your head thoughtfully. "No, definitely the bed."

Across the room, Rin sat perfectly still.

His gaze drifted from you......to Leon.

...then back to you again.

A long, contemplative silence settled over the living room.

Only when you looked up to show him the pillow again did you finally notice the look on his face.

"...Rin?"

"I've been home for less than ten minutes." His voice remained as calm and matter-of-fact as ever, which somehow made it even funnier. "You've hugged him three times, complimented his hair twice, and you've already decided he's sleeping in our bed."

You instinctively glanced down.

...You were, in fact, still hugging Leon.

"...Oh."

Rin rested his cheek against one hand, watching the scene unfold with the quiet resignation of a man who had accidentally sabotaged himself.

"I thought I was buying my wife a present."

Another small pause.

"It appears I've introduced a third party into our marriage."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"Rin, you're acting like you're competing with a pillow."

"I am."

"It's literally stuffed cotton."

"And yet..." His eyes lingered on the way you instinctively hugged it a little closer while laughing. "...it's winning."

That somehow made you laugh even harder.

Rin watched you cling happily to the pillow he'd reluctantly purchased, wearing the resigned expression of someone who had engineered his own downfall with frightening efficiency.

"...I was trying to make you happy," he muttered.

"You did."

Still smiling, you carefully set Leon against the couch before wandering over to your husband instead.

Without a word, you slipped your arms around his waist and rested your chin against his chest.

"You know..." you said thoughtfully, "...there might be a way to make this easier."

"...There isn't."

He looked down at you with obvious suspicion.

"...You know, if you're really that worried about competing with Leon..." You reached up to smooth a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. "You could always cosplay him next Halloween. I'll even buy the jacket, the tactical gear... everything."

Rin blinked.

Rin stared at you. He actually thought about it. Then his eyes wandered to the body pillow on the couch. A quiet sigh escaped him.

"...I'd still lose."

You reached up, gently smoothing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead before laughing softly. A faint smile finally found its way onto his face before he rested his forehead against yours.

"...I'm still throwing that wig away after Halloween."

"I wasn't talking about the wig."

He looked at you questioningly.

"I was talking about Leon." Your grin widened. "He'd think you'd look handsome too."

Rin let out the longest, most defeated sigh imaginable before wrapping his arms around you anyway.

"...Next time," he mumbled into your hair, "I'm buying you flowers. Flowers don't sleep in my bed."

˚₊‧꒰ა JULIEN LOKI

"You've asked me three times already."

The snowy trail crunched beneath your boots as Julien glanced over his shoulder, looking far too amused for someone who'd been dragging you uphill for the better part of an hour.

"And I'll ask a fourth," you replied, tugging your scarf a little higher. "Exactly how much longer are you planning to torture me?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"...Five minutes."

You stared at him.

"That's what you said fifteen minutes ago."

"It was."

"So you lied."

"No." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You simply climbed slower than I calculated."

You let out an exaggerated gasp.

"...Did you just blame me for your estimate?"

"I prefer to think of it as encouraging self-improvement."

"You are unbelievable."

"I've been told confidence is one of my better qualities, mon cœur."

You laughed despite yourself.

Hiking had always been one of Julien's favorite ways to spend the off-season. The mountain trails challenged him just enough to keep things interesting, and he claimed the climb made the view feel earned.

You were beginning to suspect he mostly enjoyed watching you grumble your way to the summit.

"...You're smiling."

"I am."

"You're enjoying this."

"A little."

"You are terrible."

"I've been called worse."

He guided you over the ice with effortless ease. Julien made a mental note to stop sounding like he was assigning homework. Coaching Paris X Gen had evidently done irreversible damage.

"You've done well," he said. "Just a little farther."

"...You promise?"

"I do."

He wasn't exaggerating this time.

A few minutes later, the trees gave way to an open ridge blanketed in untouched snow. Before you had the chance to admire the view, Julien stepped in front of you.

"Close your eyes."

You laughed.

"...Should I be worried?"

"If you were, I'd already be carrying you back down the mountain."

"I suppose that's reassuring."

"It was meant to be."

You smiled before closing your eyes anyway. And the, his hands found yours immediately, warm despite the winter air.

"...Ready?"

You nodded.

"You can look now."

Your eyes slowly opened. For a brief, impossible moment...

You forgot how to breathe.

The night sky stretched endlessly above the mountains, painted with ribbons of emerald, violet, and pale blue that drifted across the darkness like waves of light. They shimmered so gently they almost didn't seem real, illuminating the untouched snow below with an otherworldly glow.

The aurora.

You stood completely still.

"...Julien."

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

"It's..."

You couldn't finish.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sky.

Julien already had. But, he was far more interested in watching you.

"I thought you'd like it…I checked the forecast before we left and apparently there was a high chance it'd appear tonight."

"You planned this whole hike..."

"So you'd see it."

A laugh escaped you, though your eyes had already begun to sting.

"...You walked me up a mountain just to surprise me?"

"I would've carried you if I'd needed to."

His answer was so matter-of-fact that you almost laughed again.

Instead, you turned to him.

"You know..."

"Hm?"

"I don't think I've ever seen anything this beautiful."

His gaze drifted upward for only a heartbeat before returning to you.

"I think you're mistaken," he said with a quiet smile. "The most beautiful thing I've seen tonight has been standing beside me this entire time."

Warmth rushed to your cheeks despite the freezing air.

"...You definitely planned that."

"I had the entire hike."

A laugh escaped you as you slipped a little closer.

"I'm really glad I came."

"So am I."

Julien brushed a gloved thumb across your cheek before taking your hand again.

The two of you stood quietly beneath the dancing lights, snow settling softly around your boots. After a while, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"I wanted you to see the aurora at least once," he admitted. "But seeing you smile like this..."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment.

"...I think I ended up with the better view."

˚₊‧꒰ა MICHAEL KAISER

Morning sunlight filtered gently through the curtains, warming the bedroom long before you had any intention of leaving the comfort of your blankets.

"...Good morning, Liebling."

Your eyes fluttered open to find Kaiser already sitting beside you, looking suspiciously pleased with himself. Resting across his lap was a breakfast tray complete with coffee, fresh fruit, warm pastries, and a vase no larger than your palm.

Inside it sat a single rose. Freshly picked, tiny droplets of dew still clinging to its crimson petals.

You blinked once before looking back at him.

"...Breakfast in bed?"

"I figured my wife deserved a pleasant morning."

He offered you the flower before anything else.

"The rose comes first."

You accepted it with a smile, carefully brushing your thumb over one of the petals.

"...It's beautiful."

"I know."

Your eyes narrowed playfully.

"...Were you complimenting yourself or the flower?"

"The distinction is entirely up to you."

You laughed softly, gently turning the rose between your fingers.

Living with him meant never knowing when he'd decide to be insufferably charming, and somehow, it always worked.

Only then did your gaze drift toward his hands.

Faint traces of soil still clung beneath his fingernails, stubborn despite however thoroughly he'd tried to wash them away. It was a sight you'd grown surprisingly fond of over the past few months.

"...You were out in the garden again."

Kaiser glanced down at his hands before giving an absent nod, almost as if he'd forgotten the evidence was still there.

"The roses needed pruning."

"And you picked this one on the way back?"

"It seemed like the obvious choice."

When his therapist first suggested gardening as a therapeutic activity, you'd quietly wondered how long it would last.

Kaiser had never been particularly fond of getting his hands dirty, and the first few weeks certainly hadn't inspired much confidence. He complained that roses were dramatically high-maintenance, accidentally overwatered more than one flowerbed, and once insisted that weeds were simply "plants with poor public relations."

You'd laughed through every setback.

Somewhere along the way, though, the complaints became observations, and the frustration turned into dedication. Now he was the one waking up before sunrise to check on new blooms before training, treating every rose with the same patience and care he'd once claimed he didn't have.

"...I'm proud of you, darling."

He looked up from the breakfast tray, a hint of curiosity replacing the quiet satisfaction he'd been wearing all morning.

"Proud?" he echoed.

You nodded, gently lifting the rose between the two of you.

"You could've dropped this whole gardening thing after a week and nobody would've blamed you. Instead, you stuck with it, even when it was frustrating." A small smile found its way onto your lips. "Look at you now. You grew an entire garden."

For a brief moment, he simply watched you.

Then his gaze drifted to the rose in your hand before returning to your face.

"Well, once I realized every flower that bloomed would eventually end up in your hands... it became something I looked forward to."

Your heart melted a little.

"...You're unfairly romantic before breakfast."

The corner of Kaiser's mouth lifted into a smile.

"I've found mornings are the best time to remind my wife that she's loved."

With breakfast long forgotten, the two of you decided to wander into the garden. Your fingers remained loosely intertwined as Kaiser led you along the familiar stone path, occasionally stopping to brush away a stray leaf or inspect a bloom that had opened overnight.

You'd always admired roses.

Kaiser, on the other hand, had grown unexpectedly fond of watching you admire them.

"...You know what this garden needs?"

Michael glanced over.

"Hm?"

"A blue rose."

A laugh escaped him.

"That's rather unfortunate, Liebling."

"I know." You sighed dramatically, still eyeing the empty space. "They're not real, but they'd be beautiful if they were."

He considered your words for a moment before stepping in front of you.

"...I suppose there's one you can still admire."

Before you could ask what he meant, his fingers gently found your wrist, guiding your hand upward until your fingertips rested against the blue rose tattoo curling elegantly across his neck.

His smile was subtle.

Almost unbearably pleased with himself.

"...You'll have to settle for this one."

You couldn't help laughing as your thumb gently traced the familiar ink.

"I don't mind."

"No?"

"I've already got the flowers." Your gaze lifted to meet his. "And I get to keep the gardener."

The smug smile he'd been wearing softened almost instantly. Without another word, he intertwined his fingers with yours and continued walking, looking every bit as satisfied as the roses blooming around him.

˚₊‧꒰ა REO MIKAGE

The VIP seats overlooked the circuit as the engines roared through the stands. You and Reo watched the cars line up on the grid, both already focused before the race had even started.

“You actually got these seats?”

Reo adjusted his sunglasses with a proud smile. “Of course.”

“You say that like this is a normal weekend plan.”

“For us, maybe.”

You laughed, looking back at the track.

The two of you had been waiting for this race for months. Reo knew every detail about the schedule, you had your favorite drivers picked out, and the debate over the podium had started before you even arrived.

“You still think he’s taking the podium?”

Reo glanced at you. “Yes.”

“You said that last race.”

“And I was close.”

“Close doesn’t count.”

He smiled. “You only say that because I was right about qualifying.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you still keep watching races with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.

The lights went out, and both of you immediately turned toward the track. Reo leaned forward, analyzing every move with the same sharp focus he used on the field.

“Look at that gap,” Reo said, eyes fixed on the track.

You followed his gaze and smiled. “He’s setting up the overtake. You’ve been talking about this strategy all week.”

Reo glanced at you, impressed. “And you actually remembered.”

“Of course I did. I like hearing you get excited about things.”

A small smile appeared on his face before he turned back to the race.

“I like that you notice,” he admitted.

You looked at him, amused. “You’re enjoying this a lot.”

Reo watched the cars speed past. “Of course I am.” He glanced at you, his expression softening. “I get to watch my favorite sport with my favorite person. What’s not to enjoy?”

You shook your head, smiling.

“You really know how to make everything sound dramatic.”

Reo grinned. “I’m a dramatic person.”

“That’s true.”

The two of you laughed and returned your attention to the race. Later, during a quieter moment, you leaned against his shoulder.

“You know you didn’t have to plan everything so perfectly, right?”

Reo looked down at you, a small smile on his face. “I know.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I wanted today to be something we’d remember.”

Your expression softened as you looked around at the race, the atmosphere, and the effort he had put into making everything perfect.

“You’re lucky you’re charming.”

“I know.”

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

“No. I’ve accepted my strengths.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

The final lap arrived, and both of you were back on the edge of your seats, cheering as the cars crossed the finish line.

When the race ended, Reo reached for your hand.

“So? Worth the wait?”

You squeezed his hand, still smiling.

“Best race I’ve seen.”

His expression immediately brightened.

“Good.”

You looked at him. “You were waiting for my review?”

“Obviously. You have excellent taste.”

The luxury seats, the roaring engines, and the unforgettable race were everything he had hoped for. But the moment Reo would remember most was sitting beside you, sharing something he loved with someone who made it even better.

˚₊‧꒰ა SHIDOU RYUSEI

"...Why are we at an airfield?"

Shidou glanced at you, then toward the plane waiting on the runway, as if the answer should've been obvious.

"Because we're jumping out of it, baby."

You looked at him, then at the plane, then back at him.

"...I'd like to go back to the hotel."

"Too late."

He slung an arm around your shoulders, already steering you toward the check-in counter.

"I booked this weeks ago."

"...Weeks?"

"'COURSE! You don't just wake up and accidentally skydive."

"...You apparently do."

He laughed so hard he nearly walked past the entrance.

Living with Shidou meant every vacation came with a mystery activity. Sometimes it was harmless. Sometimes it involved willingly leaving an airplane.

Anyhow, ten minutes later, you stood in a harness as the instructor checked the straps one last time.

"...I look ridiculous."

Shidou gave you a slow once-over before breaking into a grin.

"BABY, YOU LOOK COOL AS HELL!"

"I look vacuum-sealed."

"Exactly."

"..."

"...Cool as hell."

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

He only laughed, reaching over to straighten one of your loose shoulder straps before giving it an approving pat.

"There."

"...That did absolutely nothing."

"It made me feel useful."

"You've already dragged me here."

"I prefer the word inspired."

"...Threatened."

"NAH!"

His grin softened.

"I JUST KNOW YOU'D END UP LOVING IT!"

The plane climbed higher, but your confidence dropped. You kept your eyes on the cabin floor while the instructor explained what to expect.

Beside you, Shidou was practically vibrating with excitement.

"BABY, LOOK OUTSIDE!"

"...No."

"C'mon."

"No."

"JUST ONE PEEK."

"Absolutely not."

He bumped your shoulder with his.

"YOU'RE MISSIN' OUT."

"I'm preserving my sanity."

He laughed quietly before slipping his hand into yours.

"...You're really scared, huh?"

"A little?"

"You say that like you're not crushing my hand."

"...Sorry."

"Don't be."

His fingers squeezed yours back.

"I like knowing you trust me."

The words caught you off guard.

Before you could answer, the cabin door opened and a rush of wind swept through the plane. Every instinct in your body demanded a refund.

You grabbed the front of his jumpsuit.

"...If I die..."

He leaned closer.

"...you owe me one last kiss."

Shidou blinked.

Then laughed so hard one of the instructors snorted beside him.

"C'mere, baby."

He cupped your face with both hands before kissing you without the slightest bit of embarrassment.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested lightly against yours.

"If anything tries to steal you from me..." That familiar, fearless grin returned. "...it's gonna have to beat me first."

Before your heart could recover, you were falling.

Your scream disappeared into the wind as Brazil stretched endlessly beneath you, the coastline glittering under the afternoon sun. Beside you, Shidou was laughing. Not because you were scared, but because he couldn't believe he got to experience this with you.

Somewhere between the panic and the impossible feeling of flying, you started laughing too.

By the time the parachute opened, the fear had turned into exhilaration.

"...RYU!"

"WHAT?!"

"...This is actually incredible!"

His laugh echoed through the open sky.

"I KNEW YOU'D LOVE IT, BABY!"

"...You definitely could've mentioned this part first!"

"Would've ruined the surprise!"

When your feet finally found solid ground again, your knees immediately gave out.

You collapsed onto the grass with the dramatic sigh of someone who had just survived several near-death experiences. Shidou landed moments later, still wearing the biggest grin you'd ever seen.

"So?"

He crouched beside you.

"Worth it?"

You looked up at the endless blue sky, then at your husband. A smile slowly spread across your face.

"...Heck yeah."

"I KNEW IT!"

He threw both fists into the air in celebration before immediately offering you a hand back to your feet.

"...I'm never doing that again."

"YEAH YOU ARE!"

"...No."

"YEAH, 'CAUSE NEXT TIME WE'RE HOLDING HANDS THE WHOLE WAY DOWN!"

You stared at him.

"...That's somehow an even worse idea."

Shidou only laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders as the two of you started walking back together.

"MAYBE!" He planted an unapologetic kiss on your temple. "BUT IT'D BE A HELL OF A FIRST ANNIVERSARY PHOTO!"

˚₊‧꒰ა BAROU SHOEI

The kitchen was already spotless when you sat down, the table perfectly arranged and a full gourmet meal waiting in front of you. Your eyes immediately went to the apron tied around his waist.

World’s Best Househusband (And King)

You smiled.

“You actually wore it, sweetheart.”

His expression immediately soured. “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s an apron. It’s not like I’m wearing something ridiculous.”

“You’re wearing an apron that says you’re the best househusband.”

“It was your gift.”

“And you kept it.”

“Because throwing away useful things is stupid.”

You laughed softly. “You hate that it says househusband.”

“I hate that you think it’s funny.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You’re a terrifying striker who cleans the kitchen better than anyone and cooks me a meal like this while wearing a silly apron. It’s adorable!”

He clicked his tongue. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe I am.”

He sat across from you, pretending he wasn’t affected.

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet you made my favorite dishes.”

“That’s because I know how to cook properly.”

You took a bite, the flavors coming together perfectly. The seasoning was balanced, the presentation was flawless, and even the smallest things were prepared exactly how you liked them.

You immediately smiled.

“Sweetheart, this is amazing.”

“I know.”

“You could at least pretend to be humble.”

“I’m being accurate.”

You shook your head, laughing.

You rested against his arm, still smiling from the meal.

“People always say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Barou raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That saying is outdated.”

“Maybe,” you said, holding onto him tighter, “but it works both ways.”

Before he could argue, you looked around the spotless kitchen, the carefully prepared dishes, and the man beside you who had spent hours making everything perfect.

“You’re the best chef, housekeeper, football player, and husband ever.”

“I am not a househusband.”

You glanced at the apron he was still wearing.

“You cook, clean, organize everything, and somehow still find time to train every day.”

Barou clicked his tongue. “That’s called having standards.”

You smiled. “You’re proving my point, darling.”

He looked away, clearly refusing to acknowledge that you had a point.

“You exaggerate too much.”

“I appreciate you.”

“You make it annoying.”

“I think you like being appreciated.”

“I tolerate it.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

Your smile only grew. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Barou opened his mouth to respond, then stopped himself. Instead, he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Eat your food before it gets cold.”

You blinked, amused. “…Wow. Is that your way of shutting me up?”

He gave a quiet grunt, looking away. “No. It’s my way of making sure my favorite customer enjoys the meal without getting distracted.”

You laughed softly. “Favorite customer?”

“You’re the only one allowed to criticize my cooking.”

You smiled, resting against him as you took another bite.

The food was perfect, the kitchen was spotless, and the man beside you was still pretending the apron and the affection meant nothing. But when he quietly reached over to fix your plate and pressed another small kiss to your temple, you knew better.

The King could deny the apron all he wanted.

He could never deny how much he loved taking care of you.

˚₊‧꒰ა GODWIN KUSO

The night had been unusually clear.

Countless stars stretched across the sky without a single cloud interrupting them, their light reflecting faintly against the quiet lake ahead. It wasn't uncommon for evenings like this to end outside. If Kuso ever had a free night, there was a good chance you'd find him somewhere beneath an open sky, quietly pointing out constellations you'd immediately forget the names of.

"...That one's Altair," he said, his gaze never leaving the sky as he traced an invisible line between several stars. "One of the brightest stars visible from Earth. People often mistake that one for Vega, but they're easier to distinguish once you know what you're looking for."

You squinted thoughtfully.

"...I think I see it."

"You've said that before."

"I know." A sheepish smile found its way onto your face. "I'm trying."

"I know."

His voice carried the faintest trace of amusement.

"And I appreciate the effort."

Satisfied with yourself, you nodded anyway.

"I'm going to get it eventually."

"I don't doubt that."

The conversation drifted onward as naturally as it always did. Godwin had a habit of speaking about the things he loved with such quiet sincerity that it was impossible not to listen. Watching him speak so earnestly about the things he loved had always been one of your favorite sights.

It was also, admittedly, one of the reasons you'd fallen in love with him.

After a while, he reached into his jacket and quietly placed a small velvet box in your hands.

It wasn't shaped like a ring box; it was far too flat. Because of this, curiosity got the better of you almost immediately.

Inside rested a certificate and a carefully folded star chart. You looked at him in obvious confusion.

"...What is this?"

"It's a star registry," he explained. "There are organizations that let you symbolically register a star in someone's name. It isn't used by astronomers, but the registration itself is permanent."

You blinked.

"...Wait..."

Your eyes dropped back to the certificate.

"...Is this saying..."

A smile crossed his face.

"I registered one in your name." A small smile settled across his face. "You always ask me which star is my favorite whenever we come out here. I realized I'd been giving you a different answer every time."

He glanced toward the sky again.

"I wanted to fix that."

Your vision blurred before you could stop it.

"So from now on," he continued, "if you ever ask me that question again... my answer will always be the same."

He unfolded the accompanying chart, tracing one set of coordinates with a gloved finger.

"I made sure it's visible from here," he said, handing you the map. "That way, these evenings don't have to change. We'll still come out here, you'll still ask me questions..." A quiet chuckle escaped him. "Only this time, I'll know exactly which star to point at."

You looked from the chart...

...to the endless sky above...

...then quietly slipped your hand into his.

"I don't think anyone will ever be able to top this."

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"I wasn't trying to." His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles. "I only wanted to leave you with something that would still be here years from now. Long after tonight becomes a memory, you'll be able to look up and know there's a little corner of the sky that will always remind me of you."

You couldn't find the words. Not when your heart felt this full.

Godwin seemed to understand.

He simply lifted your joined hands and pressed the gentlest kiss against your knuckles, lingering there for just a moment before lowering them again. His smile was quiet and content, as though seeing yours had already made every bit of planning worthwhile.

You'd spent years believing Godwin loved the night sky more than anything.

It turned out...

He'd simply been waiting for the perfect way to share it with you.

couldn’t find enough kuso fics, so i decided to take the first step and write one myself. please join me in spreading the propaganda and make more kuso content because this man deserves it! also this was somehow inspired after watching rio 2 (if you get the reference, i love you). ☆

© sevarchive ➵ masterlist ʚɞ like/reblogs are appreciated ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

[idkimbutimhere]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ “do you ever wish you were bigger?”⭑.ᐟ

˚࿔ pranking your bf by asking if he wishes his dick was bigger

Featuring: Isagi yoichi, Michael kaiser, sae itoshi, bachira meguru, rin itoshi, alexis ness, hiori yo, ryusei shidou, ego jinpachi, julien Loki, Vivian Hugo, bunny iglesias

Contents/warnings/tags: fluff, VERY suggestive/NSFW, demeaning names, maybe ooc idk, aged up charas, not proofread

A/N: my second ever SMAU woohoo, I like this one better but it’s also a lot more suggestive lmao (,,>﹏<,,) feedback, comments, reblogs n likes always appreciated!

Isagi yoichi ˚. ᵎᵎ

Michael Kaiser ˚. ᵎᵎ

Sae Itoshi ˚. ᵎᵎ

Rin Itoshi ˚. ᵎᵎ

Bachira Meguru ˚. ᵎᵎ

Alexis Ness ˚. ᵎᵎ

Hiori Yo ˚. ᵎᵎ

Shidou Ryusei ˚. ᵎᵎ

Ego Jinpachi ˚. ᵎᵎ

Bunny Iglesias ˚. ᵎᵎ

Julien Loki˚. ᵎᵎ

Vivian Hugo ˚. ᵎᵎ

˚. ᵎᵎ divider credits @/aesverse and @/cursed-carmine ⋆.𐙚 ̊

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ୨ please do not repost, copy or reference my work without permission. All characters referenced in my works are aged up to at least 20+ unless stated otherwise. Thanks! <3 ৎ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[gyarujo]

꒰ 糸師冴 ꒱ › sae accidentally hard launches you mdni. pro player! sae itoshi x f! reader. inspired by mbappe so ooc lol.

sae itoshi despises social media with every fiber of his being. it’s too lukewarm for him. all his accounts are managed by some pr team that solely posts professionally shot photos of him and he only opens instagram for the following reasons:

to repost reels of his match highlights that re al’s social media team tags him in,

to reluctantly comment on shidou’s posts after receiving an absurd amount of threatening texts from him,

and to like your posts and stories within seconds of you uploading them.

the latter being the main reason he bothers to check the app.

you’ve been together since you were both awkward teenagers but sae is still adamant about keeping your relationship private. not because he’s ashamed — far from it — but because his fanbase is, for lack of a better word, unhinged.

they know he’s been in a relationship for years; he’s never denied it in interviews. what they don’t know is who he’s dating. and with how private the midfielder is, most fans had long since accepted that they’d never find out. but as fate would have it, they get their answer a few hours after re al wins the uefa champions league.

sae’s just gotten out of the shower, a towel slung low on his hips as he rummages through his bag for a fresh set of clothes.

“took you long enough” you sigh, you’ve been waiting for him on the king-sized bed — wearing nothing but his spare re al kit — for what feels like forever.

sae glances up, his usual detached expression softening for just a fraction of a second as his teal eyes sweep over you. he pads toward the bed, the carpet muffling his steps until he’s right in front of you, leaning over. his fingers brush against your collarbone as he traces the collar of the jersey.

“you’re wearing my kit again ?” he shakes his head fondly before saying, “it’s not even your size” he emphasizes his point by tugging gently at the sleeve hanging well past your elbow.

“it still looks better on me.” you grin as you look up at him.

“i think it looks better off you.” his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips and then he’s kissing you. veiny hand moving from the jersey to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as he pours everything he felt during the match into your parted lips.

he barely pulls away, just enough to grab his phone from the nightstand without breaking the kiss completely. the screen illuminates his sharp features, casting a pale blue glow on his cheekbones as he opens the camera. he needs to commit this to memory, to capture this exact moment before he’s too lost in you to think straight.

there are few things sae itoshi loves more than taking pictures of you. he has thousands of them on his phone; candid shots of you sleeping, photos of you in his clothes, in your own, in nothing at all. on rare occasions he’ll post a picture or two on his close friends story. his way of showing you off without exposing you to his fans.

he doesn’t need to ask you to pose. you’re already turning onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows, and looking back at him over your shoulder. you reach back with one hand and point directly at the number ten between your shoulder blades. the soft click echoes in the hotel room as he captures the image. it’s perfect. you’re perfect. he’d be an idiot not to post it.

he’s quick, thumbs flying across the screen as he types out the caption, ‘the re al trophy’. he hits what he thinks is the right button to share this moment with his small, curated list: rin, his teammates, and shidou — who will undoubtedly send a tirade of messages saying he should be the one celebrating with sae instead of you. he tosses the phone onto the bed beside you, his attention immediately returning to more pressing matters. i.e. taking his jersey off you

he’s leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder when his phone vibrates. once. twice. then far too incessant for a close friends story. he breaks away with a frustrated groan, snatching his phone up. to his surprise and dismay, it’s not just shidou being shidou for once. but a tsunami of notifications from his official account.

his eyes widen as he opens instagram and sees it: the picture of you, in his kit, pointing at his number. posted to his public story, not close friends. thirty seconds ago. he scrambles to delete it even though he knows it’s already too late.

“shit” his thumb hovers uselessly over the screen as the notifications continue to pour in, each one a fresh wave of public exposure. the internet moves fast when it comes to sae itoshi.

you raise a brow, turning to look at him, “what’s wrong ?”

he doesn’t answer right away. his gaze is fixed on the ceiling, but you can tell he’s not actually looking at the ornate plaster. his jaw is tight, muscle ticking beneath his skin, and his eyes are clamped shut.

years of privacy, of sidestepping paparazzi and shutting down invasive questions, of keeping the person he loves safely beyond the reach of public scrutiny — all undone in less than thirty seconds.

he drops the phone onto the bed as if it’s burned him, running a hand through his damp maroon hair, “i posted it” he mutters dejectedly. and when you remain unfazed he adds, “publicly.”

you blink, processing his words. the indifferent look on your face, completely at odds with the panic etched onto his. “oh.” you say, your voice surprisingly calm. “well, that’s one way to do it.”

sae stares at you like you’ve just grown a second head. “that’s all you have to say ?” his voice is strained, “you’re not upset ?”

“why would i be ?” he lets out a sigh of relief, picking up his phone again. his pr manager’s name is flashing on the screen, but he ignores it. he clicks on the story a fan account’s tagged him in. they’ve already zoomed in on your face, trying to match you with old, blurry pictures from the stands. it won’t take them long to find your account. you reach out to still his frantic scrolling by placing a hand on his wrist. “are you upset, sae ?”

“obviously” he stops scrolling, his thumb frozen on the screen, but he can’t bring himself to look at you, “i’m very upset with myself.”

“why ?” you press gently, your thumb stroking the inside of his wrist.

“because i was careless” he admits, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “and i would’ve preferred to do this properly.”

you shift, moving to kneel in front of him, your hands resting on his tense shoulders. you start to knead the tight muscles, feeling him gradually relax under your touch. “define ‘properly’”

he doesn’t answer right away. he leans into your touch, his head bowing slightly as you work out a particularly stubborn knot between his shoulder blades. “i don’t know . . . i just wanted it to be on our terms. when we were ready. not because i fumbled with my phone like an idiot.”

sae itoshi, who can slot a penalty past the world’s best keeper without so much as trembling, is freaking out over an accidental hard launch. you can’t help but laugh. it makes his shoulders, which were slowly relaxing under your touch, stiffen all over again.

“don’t laugh at me. it’s not funny,” he mutters, though there’s no real heat behind his words. “not in the slightest.”

“you’re right, it’s not funny, it’s adorable” you lean in and press a kiss that makes his frustration fade away to his lips.

deep down, beneath his initial panic, sae’s glad. he’s glad because he knows that once the world gets over the excitement of finally knowing who you are, he can finally show you off the way he’s always wanted to. he can finally hold your hand walking down the street, kiss you in the stands after a goal, and take you to those fancy award dinners he’s always avoided. the thought of it all makes his heart race. some mistakes are worth making.

© GYARUJO 2026. please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites. do not feed to ai

[koipudding]

cafe crush kaiser who is so kind to the baristas, and always comes into this local shop dressed casually, but his hair is always styled, and he has a new book every month...

After circling around each other for months (he does not give a freak for you btw, he tunes out everyone that's near him), but it's too busy, everyone is pushing you and you really just want to get to the pickup counter, get your mug and sit in the corner somewhere only for someone to grab YOUR drink after your name was called.

only for your cafe crush to grab the person by the arm (and maybe an argument occurs. Kaiser gets pissed, but hey, he's a pro football player and he cannot get caught in a scandal after the last time him and Yoichi got into a fight on the pitch), and offers to buy you a drink instead, and sits with u while the two of you read (parallel play wahoo)

You have no idea this guy is a pro football player , and you casually ask for his number to send over the money you owe him, and he smiles, gives it to you anyway. Then your male friend casually goes "oh there's a game :3 come with me" and the guy who bought you a coffee is in the starting line up ....

[feinzleclerc]

𝓔𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼 | 𝓙𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝓑𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗮𝗺

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 :: The one where your fans and Jude's fans already suspect a possible relationship between the two of you, but you "confirm" it through a song.

liked by vinijr, judebellingham and 78.023 other people.

yourname Thank you, Madrid, for making tonight unforgettable. I’ll cherish this memory forever. See you soon!

vinijr (Your name), the show was amazing! Thank you for the warm welcome.

yourname 😍😍

karolg The energy there is truly intense (in a good way, of course!). Wishing you all the luck in the world!!!

yourname Thank you, Karol, you're the best! 💋!

judebellingham The show was amazing, and the after-party was too! 👀

judebellingham When's the next show here? I'm excited!

yourname Well, I’ll set the date soon 💁🏼‍♀️, but once it's confirmed, I’ll definitely make sure to invite you!

liked by judefas_, yourbest and 27.770 other peoples.

gossipfootball New couple alert? Maybe! This weekend, (your name) performed a series of shows, and after one of them, an after-party might have gone down. Rumor has it our Real Madrid star and the singer got cozy. Let’s not forget they were spotted leaving together a few months back 👀.

Comments disabled.

liked by yourname, realmadrid and 89.032 other peoples.

judebellingham A little off the field 💁🏾‍♂️

vinijr Oh, handsome man, right?

judebellingham we are!

yourname how???

realmadrid Good thing this guy plays for our team!

username01_ He's using the same emoji that (your name) used with him, so cute! 😍

camavinga Playing pool with who? Is that why you didn’t want to hang out with the cast? 🤔

judebellingham No need to explain like that! 😁

𝘁𝘄𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 • yourname_

➜ Say you can't sleep, baby, I know

That's that me, espresso.

⤷ gossipfootball espresso? coffee? recent photo of Jude?

⤷ yourname_ Not at all! Just a sneak peek of a song 👀

⤷ gossipfootball we know!

liked by charles_leclerc, camavinga, carlossainz55 and 132.857 other peoples.

yourname 🐆.

username03_ Are you with Leclerc? What do you mean?

username04_ But look at the pool photo!!

yourname what? Of course not! I deserve better. Just look at this @charles_leclerc.

charles_leclerc get out of here, I want to keep my distance from that one 🙄🙄 rsrs.

camavinga THE POOL TABLE! I FIGURED IT ALL OUT!

vinijr We're great detectives! 😘 you can show up @judebellingham

judebellingham You guys are crazy!

yourname Enjoy being here and listen to my new song, 'Espresso!' Gossipers.

camavinga no.

vinijr We're not going.

⭐

𝘁𝘄𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻 • judebellingham

➜ Indeed, you're like an espresso. ☕

⤷ yourname_ I told you 💋

[ladylelee]

I Love Your Writing soooooooo much 🤍 can I request a fic where we see how it’s like when Lamine and Reader live together??

Sick day

synopsis: Lamine gets a cold

Pairings: lamine yamal x fem!reader

Mynotes: iam sorry this is short and doesn't do alot of things, I think living with Lamine is random and needs a lot of writing, but this is one of it, and thank you

"Lamine? Didn't I tell you to cover the pot after you take food from it!" You covered the exposed vegetable soup pot you'd made about an hour ago. It was still warm, but you didn't know how long it had been left open like that.

"Sorry, love, I forgot." Lamine said as he chewed his food, sitting in your big living room in front of the TV.

You came over, threw a pillow at him, and sat down. "You're so careless."

Lamine laughed. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"The food will cool down fast, and some flies might get on it — unless you don't mind either of those."

He pulled you closer with his free arm. "What should I do to make up for this mistake, then? Sweetheart?"

You said indifferently, "Nothing, just be more organized."

Lamine smiled as he set the plate on the table, then turned to you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just be organized? I thought you'd punish me with washing the dishes for at least a week."

You sighed with mock helplessness, but a smile crept onto your face. "Don't give me ideas."

"I take it back immediately!" Lamine raised his hand in surrender with a soft laugh, then leaned his head on your shoulder again. "I promise I'll be organized, okay?"

"Okay."

You sat like that for several minutes in comfortable silence, watching TV, before Lamine sneezed and broke it.

"Do you have a cold?"

He got up, quickly grabbed some tissues from the table, and came back to his spot. "No, I don't know, it rained this morning and I got a little wet."

You looked at him skeptically. "Come here."

Lamine came closer and you put your hand on his forehead, which was warm.

"You have a fever."

"What? But I'm fine."

You got up to fetch the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. "That's because we caught it early, luckily."

You came back from the room with the thermometer in hand. Lamine was still sitting in his place, watching your movements with eyes you now noticed looked a bit tired.

"Open your mouth."

You put the thermometer under his tongue while he grumbled through his closed mouth. A few seconds of silence passed until the electronic beep of the thermometer interrupted it. You pulled the device out and looked at the screen: 37.9.

"It's elevated."

"Is that bad?"

"Not too high, we can manage it. Luckily we caught it early, and we happen to have soup too — what a coincidence."

"So what do we do now?"

"I'll heat up the soup again, you'll eat it, take your medicine, and rest. I'll tell the captain you might be out tomorrow if you don't wake up feeling better." You added, "Also, in a few hours you'll start feeling exhausted."

Lamine looked at you with a resigned, mocking expression. "Seems like the punishment for not covering the pot came quickly."

---

When you finished heating the soup and calling the pharmacy, you found Lamine had leaned his head back on the couch, eyes completely closed, showing the sudden exhaustion that always comes with fever once the body gives in to illness.

You went over to him, set the bags on the table with the soup nearby. "Lamine? Love."

He seemed half asleep.

He opened his eyes very slowly; his eyes, which had gleamed with mischief moments ago, now looked dull and drowsy, and he looked at you with a faint smile trying to hide his exhaustion.

He sat up on his own, which was a good sign. You handed him the medicine, the soup, and the spoon.

"Won't you feed me?" he said with a playful smile.

"I see you're well enough to try annoying me."

"No, really, I'm starting to feel tired." He waited for your response. "Please?"

You gave in. "Fine."

You moved closer, took the plate in one hand and the spoon in the other, scooped up the first bite, and brought it toward him.

"Hot."

"What?"

"Blow on it, cool it down."

"It's good to eat it hot, it'll warm your insides."

"No, cool it down."

"Seriously, what a child." You blew on the spoon, then brought it to his mouth, and he swallowed it whole. Again, you'd cool it, then feed him.

"I see you're completely fine." You pulled the spoon back to take another scoop. When you fed him this time, he grabbed the hand holding the spoon.

"I really am completely fine," then he laughed loudly.

You yanked your hand back quickly, your eyes widening with shock mixed with annoyance, while he leaned back on the couch laughing his heart out, that mischievous glint back in his shining eyes.

"Were you lying to me?!"

He didn't stop laughing, so you continued, annoyed. "You're such a fraud, and here I was worried about you!" You threw the spoon into the plate angrily and started to stand up, but Lamine was faster — he grabbed your arm, still laughing.

"Wait, wait, don't be mad!" he said, trying to catch his breath. You turned to see his face flushed with both laughter and fever.

"I wasn't entirely acting! I really am tired, I swear!"

"But you took advantage of that and made me feed you!" you said, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to keep your stern expression.

"I admit it, but can you blame me? When else do I get this kind of pampering?" He continued, "Besides, soup from your hands really does heal, and I feel my energy coming back."

You sighed and went back to sit beside him. "I don't know what to do with you, Lamine — you have energy for mischief even while sick. And trust me, you'll regret this once you're asleep."

You picked up the plate and spoon again and moved closer to him.

"What, you're continuing even after finding out I was lying?"

"Didn't you say you wanted pampering?"

Lamine smiled. "Yeah."

---

"Love," Lamine murmured in a hoarse voice, sweat covering his face. A cool cloth placed on his forehead made him relax his eyes a little. The room was warm and dark; you rinsed the cloth again to cool it.

"I'm here, okay? Don't worry, and sleep well." You placed the cloth on his forehead again, brushing a few of his blond locks aside with your fingers.

"I think you should rest from training tomorrow."

Lamine nodded, a faint nod barely visible, following you with his eyes around the room until you sat back down on the bed.

"Love." He raised his hand from under the blanket and placed it over your hand on his forehead.

You hummed in response.

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"Always."

[k1owii]

req here

worth it

jobe bellingham x childhoofbsf!reader

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

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

jobe had always been there for you.

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

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

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

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

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

he looked at you.

“…what?” you laughed.

“…nothing.”

“…you’re staring.”

“am i?”

“yes.”

“…i think you’re pretty.”

“…”

“…”

“oh.”

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

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

until today.

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

“hours?” you raised an eyebrow.

“hours.”

you smiled. “that’s dangerous information.”

he grinned right back. “i know.”

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

“so?”

“what do you want to do?”

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

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

“worth a try.”

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

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

“hi.”

“you’re really pretty.”

“you already used that line.”

“still true.”

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

“and yet you’re smiling.”

“…shut up.”

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

“jobe-”

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

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

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

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

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

“depends.”

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

“twelve?”

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

“i did not beat him up.”

“you threatened him.”

“…”

“…”

“okay, maybe i did.”

“it was very attractive.”

you snorted. “that’s concerning.”

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

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

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

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

“well.”

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

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

you immediately buried your face in jobe’s shoulder.

“i’m moving countries,” you mumbled.

“fair.”

jobe sighed dramatically. “can i help you?”

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

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

“leave.” jobe groaned.

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

“please.”

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

your head shot up. “don’t you dare.”

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

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

“you’ll what?”

“…hide every charger in this house.”

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

jobe groaned. “can you please just go?”

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

“NO.”

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

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

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

within seconds the entire house was chaos.

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

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

“they’re kissing!” his brother yelled.

there was a brief silence and then:

“…finally!” mark laughed.

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

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

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

“of course we were.”

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

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

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

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

“a decent amount.”

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

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

you covered your face. “shut up!!!”

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

“we never are..,” you admitted.

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

you smiled despite everything. “yeah.”

“even with him?”

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

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

“WE’RE EIGHTEEN!”

“never too early to prepare.”

~~

© laoiwvq’s work is laoiwvq’s work only and is not free to use!

[sevarchive]

જ⁀➴ Before tomorrow's biggest match, Bunny Iglesias turns to you for a much needed 'good luck'. discretion adviced ♡

˚₊‧꒰ა The night before the match against Argentina, BUNNY IGLESIAS'S apartment felt unusually quiet.

The weight of tomorrow’s game hung over the room, and for once, even Bunny couldn’t hide the tension building beneath his usual calm demeanor. He then paced back and forth, lost in his thoughts, his lavender hair falling messily as his focus remained fixed on the match ahead.

Eventually, he sank onto the couch beside you, his red eyes carrying an intensity that immediately caught your attention.

You had seen Bunny confident and composed, but tonight there was something different about him.

"…I can't sleep," he said under his breath, frustration slipping into his voice. When you reached out to comfort him, he suddenly pulled you into his lap, his large, calloused hands immediately finding purchase on your waist.

His touch was possessive, fingers digging slightly into your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"You know I'm not usually like this, mi amor," he admitted quietly, his voice cracking with vulnerability.

"But let me feel you tonight…I need a moment where I don't have to think about anything except you, or I'm going to lose my mind before tomorrow comes."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing over those familiar scars. “Look at me,” you whispered. “Forget everything else for a little while.” you whispered against his lips, your voice steady despite the way your own pulse was racing. "Just focus on me."

The moment the words left your mouth, the last thread of his restraint snapped. His hands wandered with increasing boldness, tracing the sensitive curve of your spine before sliding down to grip your hips with bruising certainty.

You leaned into his embrace without hesitation, letting yourself be drawn into his warmth, but even as you tried to match his intensity, you quickly realized the futility of it. You weren't built for this level of raw physicality; Bunny was operating on a different plane entirely. His body was a finely tuned engine of muscle and relentless stamina, and tonight, that engine was running hot with a hunger that felt almost dangerous.

He felt needier than you had ever encountered with his every touch urgent, every kiss a demand for reassurance that you were real, that you were his.

As he pulled you flush against his toned chest, you could feel the frantic hammering of his heart against your own. His hands were everywhere at all at once. Until his grip lingered for a moment before slowly relaxing, the tension that had kept him awake finally beginning to fade.

With a sigh, he placed his head heavy against your shoulder, the exhaustion that had been weighing on him all evening finally caught up to him, and before long, his breathing evened out as he drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, completely still for the first time that night.

The morning came sooner than either of you would have liked. Because soon enough, the quiet of the apartment was replaced by the deafening roar of a packed stadium.

Ninety minutes of relentless football came down to one final whistle.

Spain had done it!

The whistle had blown, the victory was secured, and Bunny was the hero of the hour. Through the cluttered confetti and screaming fans, you watched him from the sidelines, your heart still racing from the adrenaline of the win. He looked exhilarated, sweat slicked and triumphant, the gold medal already draped around his neck.

As he spotted you near the tunnel, he broke away from his teammates, jogging toward you with that rare, genuine smile breaking across his face.

"We did it," he panted, reaching you and pulling you into a crushing hug. The adrenaline was clearly still coursing through him, making him reckless. "I told you I needed that luck."

In a burst of pure, uncontained triumph, Bunny grabbed the hem of his sweat soaked jersey. “Dios mío... it's too hot in here,” he muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Before you could warn him about the cameras, he yanked the fabric upward, pulling the jersey over his head to cool down.

The breath died in your throat. As he tugged his jersey over his head, your eyes landed on a few unmistakable red marks scattered across his back.

Your face immediately went up in flames.

You whipped your head toward the nearest camera, silently praying every broadcast operator in the stadium had suddenly developed terrible timing.

"...No. No, no, no."

Bunny followed your frantic gaze before glancing over his shoulder. The second he realized what had sent you spiraling, a slow, infuriating smirk spread across his face.

"Cariño," he said, completely unbothered, "you're the only one making this look suspicious."

You shot him a mortified glare, already hiding your face behind your hands. "I'm never standing next to you after a match again."

congratulations to spain again! viva españa!

© sevarchive ➵ masterlist ʚɞ like/reblogs are appreciated ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱