Hi Everyone!

Hi everyone!

I’ve recently taken a big step in my creative journey by launching a Patreon account, and I’m beyond excited to share what this means for my writing. While I’ll still be active on Tumblr, continuing to post the stories and content you’ve come to know and love, Patreon is where I’ll be exploring new territories. It’s a place where I can dive deeper into the ideas swirling in my mind, stories that don’t quite fit into the Tumblr landscape but are just as close to my heart.

This platform is more than just a creative outlet for me; it’s an opportunity to bring you into my world in a way I haven’t been able to before. On Patreon, I’ll be sharing the raw, unfiltered thoughts that drive my passion for storytelling, giving you a glimpse into the process behind the stories. It’s also a way for me to sustain myself as I continue my studies, balancing the demands of school with my love for writing.

Your support on Patreon means the world to me, and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us!

Omgggg I’d love something like angst turned into fluff where Kylian and reader breakup for a while then get back together and before they move to Madrid, she finds out she’s pregnant💗

Rekindled

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You and Kylian have been broken up for months. Then you get a call from Kylian begging for you to meet him.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.3k

Warnings! ANGST! They love each other but it hurts, FLUFF

You thought you were over it—over him.

The late-night conversations that lingered like a warm breeze on a summer night, the way his laughter could turn your worst day into something bearable, even the stupid inside jokes that only the two of you found funny.

You told yourself it was just nostalgia, a ghost of what was, not what is.

It had been three months since you and Kylian had parted ways. The breakup was a storm you never saw coming—a whirlwind of emotions, misunderstandings, and words left unsaid. The pain had been unbearable, and even now, the memory of it made your chest tighten.

You had loved him with everything you had, and the loss of him had left a void in your life that nothing seemed to fill.

But life moved on, as it always does. You threw yourself into work, into friends, into anything that could distract you from the ache of his absence. And slowly, ever so slowly, the wound began to heal.

You convinced yourself that you were okay, that you didn’t need him, that you could be happy without him.

You had moved on, or at least that’s what you thought.

Then, out of the blue, he called.

He wanted to talk. To see you. Said he missed you. There was something in his voice—an urgency, a sincerity—that you couldn’t ignore. He was begging, and you had never heard that before. Never heard him so desperate, so broken.

So against your better judgment, you agreed to meet him at the café where you’d had your first date. A place you had avoided for months, afraid that the memories would be too painful.

You chose it. So you couldn't complain.

A small part of you wanted closure where it all started. For him to give you back your heart where he had first stolen it.

You remembered the way he held your hand, the way he looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world, the way he made you laugh.

You took a seat in the same corner you’d occupied that night, waiting for him to show up.

He was late—something he never used to be—but you didn’t mind. You used the time to go over the reasons you were here, the things you wanted to say to him, the things you hoped he’d say to you.

Now, as you waited for him to arrive, doubt gnawed at you. What was the point of reopening old wounds? What could he possibly say that would change anything? Why now?

The sound of the bells ringing pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up, and there he was—Kylian, standing in the doorway, his eyes searching the cafe until they found you.

He walked in, his eyes red. He looked the same, but different. There was a vulnerability in his expression that wasn’t there before—something deeper, more serious.

He walked over to you, his movements measured, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unresolved.

The way he was looking at you, that mix of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place—was it regret? Or maybe it was just the reflection of your own feelings, mirrored back at you.

You stood there, frozen, as the world around you seemed to blur and fade. It was like someone hit pause on everything except for the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the emotions you’d spent months convincing yourself you no longer felt.

“Hi,” he finally said, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Hi,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

He took a seat across from you, his gaze never leaving yours. “Thank you for coming.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say, unsure of what you were even feeling. The emotions inside you were jumbled up, a mess of happiness and sadness, longing and anger.

He started to say something, but you couldn’t hear him over the roaring in your ears. Your brain screamed at you to walk away, to leave before you got sucked back in.

But your feet refused to move, rooted to the spot as if tethered by an invisible string that connected you to him, no matter how much you tried to sever it.

He reached out, placing his hand on top of yours pulling you out of the trance you were in. The touch sent a rush of electricity through your body, and your breath caught in your throat.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice full of emotion as he tried to give you a small smile. One that was so strained it looked like a grimace. He leaned in, his eyes holding yours.

You hadn’t expected that. Not now, when you’d finally begun to heal. Hadn’t expected him to look so broken. The same hazel eyes that used to light up your day now looked dull, the smile that you loved now barely existing on his lips.

He looked lost. And for a moment, your heart hurt for him. You had thought he had moved on, but now you wondered if he was okay. If he was truly happy.

“Kylian,” you said, your voice shaking as you struggled to find the right words. “We can’t do this-”

“Please, just let me say this,” he interrupted, leaning forward, his expression earnest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even deserve it. But I have to say this, for my sake as well as yours.” He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “I'm so sorry. For walking away when I should have fought for you. For us. I regret every word, every second I wasted. Every stupid thing I did to make you hate me.” He stopped, taking another deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion.

“I thought I was okay without you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Thought I could just move on and be fine. But every day without you is worse than the one before. I-” He paused, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen. “I need you, [Y/n]. I can’t live without you. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I'm begging you to give me one anyway. Please, baby, please. I miss you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as your heart broke all over again. His words echoed in your mind, replaying over and over until it became a mantra. He needed you.

Did he?

After it's been three whole months since you've even seen each other. Since you've talked. You wonder why he wants to do this now. After all this time. So you ask.

“Why now, Kylian? Why after all this time?” You tried to keep your voice from shaking. But it was too late.

“Because I couldn’t keep lying to myself,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “You're the love of my life Y/N. Tu es mon trésor le plus précieux. I can't live without you, bébé.”

Every word was a punch to the gut, making it hard to breathe.

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. It was the truth, raw and unfiltered.

And you didn't know how to handle it.

Noticing your hesitation, his face fell. “I’m moving to Madrid,” he continued, his tone filled with both hope and fear. “I want you to come with me. I want to start over, to build a life together. But I can’t do it without you.”

His words hung in the air between you, the promise of a new beginning. Could you really do it? Leave everything behind and start fresh? With him?

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if you were ready to forgive him. To give him another chance. But you did know that the love you had for him hadn’t disappeared, not really. It was still there, deep down in your heart, waiting to resurface.

Just as you were about to tell him all of this, your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you jump,breaking the spell that had been cast over the two of you. You pulled it out, looking at the screen as a notification popped up.

As you looked at the screen, your breath caught in your throat.

It was an appointment reminder—the one you had been avoiding, the one you had hoped was just a mistake.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he watched you. “What happened? Is everything okay?” Kylian asked, concern evident in his voice.

You hesitated, unsure if you should tell him.

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You had no idea how to explain, or even if you should.

The phone buzzed again, reminding you that you were running late.

You stood, glancing at Kylian. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Kylian frowned, his eyes darting to the screen of your phone before returning to yours. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Did I say something? I-” he stopped as you shook your head. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just—” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

He rose to his feet, his eyes searching yours. “Let me come with you, please, whatever it is, let me be there for you,” he pleaded, his voice full of concern and desperation. He had never seen you look so distress and knew immediatly that whatever it was that was bothering you, he was ready to face it with you. Fight it for you.

You shook your head, feeling the walls closing in on you. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. You were supposed to get closure, maybe find some peace. Instead, you felt more tangled up than ever, the strings of your past pulling you in every direction.

Kylian grabbed your wrist, his grip light. “I’m not going to let you run from me, Y/N. Not this time. I love you. Please don’t shut me out again,” he whispered, his voice cracking as his eyes searched yours for something—anything—to hold onto.

The weight of his gaze was unbearable. You wanted to say yes, to let him be there, to tell him that you loved him too. But the words stuck in your throat.

“Please,” he pleaded, his grip tightening, his eyes burning with an intensity you’d never seen. “Please let me help.”

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. The word felt like a weight on your tongue, as if the decision to say it had already changed the course of your life. It will.

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his lips pressed against the top of your head as his arms tightened around you.

“Let’s go,” you said, breaking the embrace.

Kylian nodded, his eyes searching yours. “Where are we going?”

You glanced at your phone, the reminder burning into your brain. “The hospital,” you said, tucking your phone into your pocket.

****

The drive was silent, neither of you sure what to say.

Kylian’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. You didn’t pull away, and instead allowed him to thread his fingers through yours, the familiar warmth of his touch settling into your bones.

He squeezed your hand, his thumb running over the top of your knuckles. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to ease the tension in the air. Enough to let you breathe a little easier.

When you arrived at the hospital, Kylian followed you into the waiting room, his presence steady at your side. You checked in, and the nurse handed you a cup for a sample.

You stood, Kylian’s hand still wrapped around yours. “I need to go to the bathroom,” you told him, pointing to the door.

He nodded, his face serious. “I’ll be right here when you get back.” He tried to keep a brave face but inside he was panicking. Why were you at the hospital?

He knows how much you despise hospitals, so whatever brought you here must be serious. A bitter memory surfaces—he recalls the time you had a fever of 103 and still stubbornly refused to go. Whatever this is, it’s grave enough to drag you to the place you hate most in the world.

Were you sick?

The thought alone made him want to cry. He couldn't lose you. Not again. Not when he still hadn't gotten the chance to put that ring on your finger. The one he bought four months ago, a few weeks before your breakup.

You headed down the hall, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence in the hospital was almost deafening, as if you were the only person there.

As you passed a window, you stopped, looking at your reflection. You looked tired, worn out. And scared.

You were scared.

This was it. The moment of truth. The one thing you had been avoiding. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You had to do this.

You pushed into the bathroom, taking a seat on the toilet, and peeing into the cup.

Your hands were shaking as you walked out, the cup clutched tightly in one hand.

Kylian was standing by the nurses' station, his phone in his hand as he texted. He looked up as you walked in, his eyes searching yours. “All good?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he noticed the pee in the cup.

You nodded, handing the cup over to the nurse before walking over to him. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you lied, trying to sound confident.

Kylian frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice dropping low.

You shrugged, looking away. “Yeah,” you said, the word sticking in your throat. “I’m just-" Before you could say anything else , the nurse called your name telling you that the doctor was ready to see you.

You froze, panic seizing your lungs. “Come this way,” she said, gesturing for the both of you to follow her.

She led you down the hall, stopping at a room on the right. She gestured for you to enter. “Have a seat and the doctor will be right in,” she said before disappearing back down the hall.

You sat down, Kylian taking a seat next to you.

Neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick. You looked at him, and his eyes were filled with questions. Ones he didn’t have the courage to ask.

Your mind was racing, a thousand scenarios playing in your head. None of them good.

The door opened a few minutes later, and a man walked in, his white coat billowing behind him. “Good morning,” he said, his smile friendly. “I'm Doctor Frenette.”

Kylian and you both greeted him, the words sounding hollow.

He pulled up a chair, taking a seat across from you. “Miss [Y/n], you're here because of the test you took last week, correct?” he asked, looking at your file.

You nodded, your mouth dry.

Kylian shifted beside you, his hand reaching out and finding yours. “Well, I'm glad to report that it was indeed positive. The sample you just gave us has been tested and confirms the one you took at home. Congratulations!” Dr. Frenette said, smiling at you.

The words hit you like a ton of bricks, stealing your breath. Positive?

You looked at Kylian, who was staring at you. “Positive for what?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

You felt your heart stop as he turned to the doctor, his eyes searching the other man's face for answers.

Dr. Frenette's smile was still plastered on his face. “Congratulations, Miss [Y/n], you’re pregnant.”

You heard Kylian’s breath catch, and saw the shock written on his face.

Pregnant.

The word echoed in your mind as your world tilted sideways. Pregnant? Was that possible?

It's been months since you had done anything with Kylian. It's the main reason why you refused to believe the home pregnancy test after all. Surely you would notice by now if something was up. Right? It is your body after all. You're supposed to know.

And yet you didn't.

The doctor started talking, telling you something about ultrasounds, appointments, and prenatal vitamins, but you couldn’t focus on what he was saying. All you could hear was Kylian's ragged breaths in your ear. All you could see was him, his eyes fixed on yours as the news sunk in.

You watched as his face changed, the shock turning into something else—something you hadn’t seen before.

He looked… happy.

You felt your own breath catch as he squeezed your hand, a grin stretching across his face. His eyes met yours, and you saw the tears pooling in his eyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Dr. Frenette leave to give you some privacy.

“Pregnant,” he whispered, the word barely audible. His voice was filled with awe, and it shook with emotion. You stared at him, still trying to process the reality of it. Pregnant. The word felt foreign, like it didn’t belong to you. But the look on Kylian’s face, that raw, unfiltered joy—it made the impossible seem real.

Kylian's hand tightened around yours, anchoring you to the moment. “We’re going to have a baby,” he whispered, his voice trembling as if saying it aloud would make it vanish. “Can you believe it? We’re going to be parents.”

You blinked, the room spinning as you tried to steady yourself. Parents. The word sent a wave of fear crashing over you, mingling with the joy in Kylian’s eyes. This wasn’t how you imagined your life would turn out—not here, not now. Not with everything so uncertain between you two.

“Kylian, I—” you started, but your voice faltered. How could you explain the chaos in your heart, the mixture of fear and hope that tangled together, pulling you in different directions?

But he seemed to understand. He always did. His smile softened, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out. Together. I’m not going anywhere this time, Y/N. I’m here, and I’m not letting you do this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice, the sheer determination—it melted something inside you. Tears welled up, and you let them fall, not even bothering to wipe them away. Kylian reached up, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek as he cupped your face in his hands.

“You’re going to be an amazing mom,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “And I’m going to be there every step of the way, I promise.”

His words wrapped around you like a lifeline, grounding you in the storm of emotions. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let go of the doubts and fears that clung to you. But a small voice in the back of your mind kept reminding you of the hurt, of the past mistakes, of the possibility that things might not work out.

But as you looked into Kylian’s eyes, saw the hope, the love, and the unwavering support, you felt a flicker of that same hope ignite within you. Maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to start over. To build something new, something stronger, together.

You took a deep breath, nodding as you placed your hand over his on your cheek. “Okay,” you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your fears and the promise of your future. “We’ll do this together.”

Kylian’s smile widened, and he pulled you into a hug, holding you close as if he’d never let go. And for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

-Bianca🌻

The Last Sunrise

This is a snippet of my first Patreon post. (It's free)

I've been working on this personal piece for a long time. It's my first time posting something this deeo, intimate and personal. It would mean a lot if you read it. I hope you like it!

****

My thin, bony fingers tremble as they graze the rough fabric of the sheets, tracing the worn edge of the bed in slow, aimless circles. Each touch feels hollow, as if my hands no longer belong to me—weightless and fragile, like feathers caught in a breeze, slipping through my grasp before I even realize it.

The soft cotton beneath my fingertips feels distant, almost unreal, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what fading feels like: losing sensation, losing connection, until everything, even touch, drifts into nothingness.

I close my eyes, hoping the darkness will bring some peace, but the restless feeling clings to me like a second skin. My mind drifts to the sounds around me—the steady hum of machines, each beep and click a reminder of where I am.

****

more on my Patreon.

oh you're back, i missed your writing <3

awww, thank you.

I never really left. I've just been swamped since school started. But now that my schedule is a bit more settled, I'll try to post as much as possible.

Taking care of Jude after his shoulder surgery and trying to comfort him from the idea of not playing for 2 - 3 months, he is out of mood but you know how to cheer him up (maybe a bj)😉

Remedy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is sulking because of his injury and you have the perfect remedy to cheer him up.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.1k

Warnings! NSFW! FLUFF, slight domestic fluff, pouty Jude, he's hurting🥺 SMUT (18+), oral sex (m receiving),

He's quiet.

Has been since you came back from the hospital. The silence that now wraps around him is different from the comfortable, familiar quiet you used to share. It's thick, heavy, and it feels like a dark cloud is following you around.

He doesn't talk much. You're not sure if he even wants to. Every time you try to bring up something about the surgery or football, he just shakes his head and change the subject. You're starting to get worried; this isn't like him. You've seen him upset before, but he was never like this.

The doctor had said he'd be fine after some rest. That it was normal to feel this way after the surgery, especially given the length of his recovery time. Two to three months out of the game was going to be tough for anyone, let alone someone as dedicated as Jude.

You knew that this was going to be hard for him, but you were ready to support him. If that meant taking care of him and doing all the things he hated, then you were happy to do it.

You knew it wasn't just about the surgery, or the recovery time. It was everything else. Being away from his teammates, away from the game, it was hard for him. He felt useless. Inactive.

The only thing that brought him a little joy was you. He always smiled when you were around, and you were always happy to see him. Even if he was still in pain, even if he wasn't talking much. You could see it in his eyes. He was happy to see you.

And right now, he needed you more than ever.

The room is dimly lit when you walk in, casting a soft, amber glow over the furniture. The faint hum of the air conditioning mingles with whatever show he's watching on the TV.

Jude lies in bed, his left shoulder heavily bandaged and propped up with pillows. His face is still pained, but he's not using the morphine anymore. He's trying to tough it out, and it makes your heart ache to see him like that.

You sit down on the edge of the bed near him, smoothing the blankets with your hand. The sheets are crinkled, the bed is a mess, and you think about making it for him, but you know he doesn't want you to fuss. So, instead, you just smooth the blankets down, running your fingertips lightly over the fabric.

His eyes flicker over to you, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Hey,” he says, his voice raspy from lack of use.

You smile back, leaning over him. “Hey,” you say, pressing your lips softly against his forehead. He closes his eyes at the touch, a sigh escaping from between his lips.

“Do you want anything?” you ask, running your palm down his arm. “Painkillers? A glass of water?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I'm fine.” He smiles weakly at you and you nod.

“Are you watching anything interesting?” you ask, gesturing to the TV. The show is some sports documentary, something you're sure he's seen a thousand times before. But it brings him comfort so you hold back from making any comments.

He shakes his head again, reaching up to run his fingers over your cheek. “Just background noise,” he says. “I missed you,” he murmurs, pulling you close.

You settle next to him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the coolness of the room. His touch is gentle, almost fragile, as though he's afraid to press too hard. Afraid of being hurt. You wrap your arm around him carefully, mindful of the bandaged shoulder.

You smile, running your hand down his side. “I missed you too,” you say.

He hums, turning his head to press a soft peck to your lips. The first kiss he's given you all day. “I'm sorry,” he whispers as he pulls away, his hand sliding up under your shirt.

You look up at him, confused. “What for?”

He sighs, his brow furrowing slightly. “For being a dick.”

You frown, shaking your head. “You weren't a dick,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, giving you a look. “Don't lie to me.”

You shake your head again. “I'm not lying,” you say, cupping his jaw in your palm. “I know you're upset, and you're not handling it well, but you weren't a dick.” He looks away, his shoulders hunching forward slightly.

He lets out a deep breath, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “It’s just,” he starts, but the words seem to get stuck somewhere between his heart and his mouth. He lets out a heavy sigh, his good hand clenching into a fist. "I just… I hate feeling useless. Watching the team from the sidelines, not being able to play… it's killing me."

You nod, understanding more than he realizes. “I know,” you say softly. “And you're not useless. You're healing. But you’re going to get through this. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He looks at you, his eyes tired but appreciative. “I don’t feel strong,” he admits. “I'm scared” his eyes look distant. “I feel like I’m losing everything that made me who I am.”

The honesty in his voice hits you like a wave, and you take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone,” you tell him, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. You can see the worry in his gaze, the fear and the uncertainty. It breaks your heart to see him like that.

You give him a soft smile and press your lips to his once more. This time, he meets you halfway, his mouth opening to let you in. He sighs into your mouth, his arm wrapping tight around your waist as he deepens the kiss.

His kisses are slow and tender, careful not to touch your lips too hard. You let him lead, letting him control the pace as you kiss.

You press closer to him, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. His hands roam freely down your back, squeezing your ass and pulling you into him.

He breaks away from you, his breath hot against your face. “I missed kissing you,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. You laugh, and he smiles. It’s the first real smile he’s given you today.

“I missed kissing you too,” you say.

The room is quiet once more, but this time it feels different. The air is lighter, the atmosphere changed. The cloud that had been following you around has vanished, and in its place, there’s a sense of relief. Of calm.

Jude’s fingers trace light patterns on your back, a touch that is both tender and tentative. His breath, warm and uneven, mingles with yours as you stay close. You can feel the faint tremor in his hold, a reminder of the pain he's so desperately trying to mask.

He’s trying to be strong, to fight through this.

You wish you could take all his pain away. You think for a moment, searching for a way to lift his spirits. An idea forms in your mind, and you smirk. You know just what he needs to cheer him up.

The doctor strictly forbade sex for the sake of Jude's quick recovery. But he never said anything about Oral sex. You internally cackle at your own deviousness.

You break away from him, leaning back to give him a sly smile. He doesn't see you, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

You smirk, letting your gaze wander down his body, letting your eyes linger on his crotch. You can just barely see the outline of his cock in his grey sweatpants. He's soft, not aroused, but that's okay. You can change that.

You lean up on your elbow, propping yourself up so you can get a better view. He shifts next to you, his eyes flicking to you. His mouth opens to say something, but he catches sight of the hungry look in your eyes and closes it again.

He smiles, raising his eyebrows. “You’re staring,” he says, his tone amused.

You nod, not ashamed. “I am.”

His smile grows, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You smirk, letting your gaze travel further down his body. “About sucking your cock,” you say, watching as his expression changes from amused to surprised, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline.

He swallows hard, his eyes dropping back to your mouth. “I didn’t…” he starts, trailing off when he catches the look in your eyes. You smirk, biting your lip, and he trails off once more.

He looks up at you, his face still surprised, but there’s something else there now too. Desire.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to?” you ask, watching as he shifts next to you, adjusting his position in the bed.

He licks his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, trying to act nonchalant. “I mean,” he starts, “if you want to.”

You grin, leaning over to press your lips to his once more. This time, you kiss him harder, more urgently. He groans into your mouth, his good arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You're careful of his shoulder, mindful of the bandage.

He lets you lead, following where you take him. Your hands slide up under his shirt, your fingers tracing over his abs. He's lean, his muscles defined from hours spent working out. He shivers beneath your touch, his cock hardening in his pants.

You pull away from him, giving him a heated look as you straddle him. You lean up, running your tongue over his bottom lip before biting it gently. He groans, his hips jerking up into yours.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to watch the trajectory of your hand.

You chuckle, leaning back to run your palm over his cock. He lets out another low groan at the touch, his eyes closing as he throws his head back. “That feels so good,” he says.

You hum, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pants. He shifts beneath you, his cock twitching in response. You lean over him, running your lips down his neck. “Do you want my mouth around your cock?” you ask.

He gasps at the question, his eyes flying open. “Jesus,” he says, his voice hoarse. He nods, his head bobbing up and down. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck. “Good,” you say.

His hands slide up under your shirt, running over your back. “Take your clothes off,” he says, his voice still hoarse. “I want to see you.” You smirk, leaning up to pull your shirt over your head.

He groans, running his hand up over your breast. “Fuck,” he says, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. “You’re beautiful.”

You smile, leaning back to take off your pants. “I’m going to take my clothes off,” you say, sliding the fabric down your thighs. “But then, you have to take your pants off.” He nods, his hand slipping down your stomach as you slide off the bed.

He shifts next to you, his eyes following your body as you move. You kick your pants off and stand up, your fingers hooking into his waistband as you lean over him. “Your turn,” you say, pulling his sweats down.

He lifts his hips for you, wincing slightly as you tug the fabric over his cock. The skin sensitive from the lack of use in the past few weeks. “Sorry,” you say, trying not to hurt him.

He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m fine,” he says.

You hum, leaning over to press your lips to his thigh. He shudders beneath you, his hand sliding up to rest on your head. “Please, baby! Don't tease.” he says, his voice a low whine.

His cock is hard, standing straight up from his body. The head is a deep, angry red, his veins visible under the skin. A drop of precum glistens on the tip, and you can't help but lean closer, your tongue darting out to lick it away.

He moans at the touch, his hips jerking upwards. You smirk, running your tongue around the head before licking down his shaft. He groans again, his head falling back onto the pillows.

You lean down further, licking the sensitive spot underneath the head. His hips jerk up again, his thighs clenching around you. He groans, his hand tightening in your hair. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You hum, licking him once more. You want him to feel good, to take his mind off the pain and the surgery. You want him to focus on the pleasure.

Your fingers trail down his shaft, curling around him to hold him in place. Your tongue moves faster, flicking against the tip of him before licking down to his balls. They’re heavy and swollen, hanging loose under him. He groans when you touch them, his hips twitching with each brush of your lips.

You tease him for a minute, licking and sucking at his balls before moving back to the head. You swirl your tongue around it, sucking the head into your mouth. He groans again, his hips rocking into your mouth.

You take him deeper, sucking harder as you bob your head on him. His hips jerking upwards as he groans. His hand tightens in your hair, holding your head in place. “Fuck sweetheart. Take me deeper, be a good girl,” he gasps, his cock twitching in your mouth.

You hum around him, sucking harder as you move your head faster. He groans again, his thighs shaking under you. “You're so good at this baby. Don’t stop, please,” he says.

You don't plan to, sucking him deeper into your mouth. Your lips slide down his shaft until they meet his trimmed pubes at his base. The dark hairs dust your nose, tickling it. Your mouth is stretched around him, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat.

You swallow, your throat closing around him. He gasps, good hand coming to cover his face, the pleasure too much for him. His shoulder starts to ache behind his jerky movements but he doesn't care. He wants more. “Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his hips rocking up into you.

You pull back, your mouth popping free of him. His cock is shiny, slick with your spit. “Gonna make you cum down my throat,” you say, looking up at him. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at you.

"Yeah?" he whispers, his voice a low growl. "Go ahead then. Take me all the way in that pretty little mouth. Gag on it." His words send shivers down your spine, your own body growing hot in response to his. You're soaked, your pussy dripping wet and aching to be filled.

You lean down, sucking him back into your mouth. His head falls back, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You gag on him, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears fill your eyes as he fucks into you, using your mouth as he likes. He’s rough, his hips slamming upwards to meet you as you bob your head on him.

You gag again, drool soaking his cock as you choke on him dripping down his thighs. It's messy, wet. Just the way he likes it He groans, his cock twitching in your mouth. “Oh shit, baby, I’m close,” he says.

You suck him deeper, your tongue working overtime as he fucks into your mouth. He’s getting closer, his movements growing more erratic as he teases the edge. You can feel the pleasure building in him, the muscles in his thighs tensing under you.

He’s so close now, his cock twitching in your mouth as he gasps. “Baby,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m about to come.” He moans again, his hips jerking up to meet you.

You swallow around him, taking him deep. He cums down your throat, his cock jerking in your mouth. His hips slam upwards, filling your mouth with his seed. You swallow it down, taking it all as he comes.

When he's done, you pull back, gasping for breath. He relaxes back on the bed, his head falling back on the pillows. His chest is heaving, and a light sheen of sweat is covering his skin.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice breathless. “That was so good.” His cock is softening now, tip red, pulsing and glistening with spit.

He sighs again, his eyes opening to look down at you. “Thanks baby,” he says, his voice low and soft. “That was amazing.”

You smile, crawling up his body to rest your head on his chest. “Welcome,” you say, kissing his skin. “I’m sorry again, about your shoulder. It's going to suck not being able to play.”

He hums, his good arm coming to wrap around you. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head is a soothing. His breath, steady and deep, caresses your cheek, and you can feel the faint pulse of his heartbeat as you nestle in closer.

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “I just need some time.” His fingers run through your hair, his touch comforting. You lean into him, your body relaxing. You’re comfortable here, wrapped in his arms.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him. His eyes are closed, his chest still rising and falling in a slow rhythm. “Jude?”

He opens his eyes, looking down at you. “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I could eat.”

You smile, crawling off the bed. “I’ll go make some lunch,” you say, bending down to pick your pants up off the floor. His hand slides up the back of your thigh as you stand. You shiver, your body responding to the touch.

You straighten, pulling your pants on, still shirtless. “Don't even think about it,” you say, laughing watching his eyes glued to your chest. “Your shoulder needs to heal.”

He sighs, flopping back onto the bed. “Fine,” he says, grumbling.

You laugh again, pulling your shirt on. “Be good,” you say, walking over to kiss him. “I’ll bring your food up.”

He nods sulking, but smiles. “Love you,” he says, his voice soft and low.

You smile, leaning down to kiss him again. “Love you too,” you say. You walk out of the room, him watching your ass sway with each step. He’s smiling when you leave, the pain and frustration forgotten.

For now, at least, he’s happy. And that's all that matters.

-Bianca🌻

Excuse me I don’t know if you know but the way your mind works when you write these fics is INSANE I LOVE IT!!!

I’m always like «…what am I reading this is a masterpiece » 😭 anyway you don’t have to answer but I just wanted to let you know 🫶🏾

Thank you so much🥺💛

It still blows my mind that people enjoy my writing. It means a lot when I get compliments like this. I'm near tears. Truly, thank you for saying this.