kitkat

The book lies open in your lap, words blurring into meaningless shapes as your mind drifts. You're curled up in Jude's bed, surrounded by his scent, but it's the memory of his body that's really consuming you.

The past few months have transformed him in ways that make your mouth water and your core clench. The extra hours at the gym, the heavy lifting, it's all paying off in ways that drive you absolutely insane.

His arms have thickened, biceps bulging with the slightest movement. His back has broadened, creating that delicious V-shape that makes you want to trace the lines with your tongue. Even his thighs, which were already pretty sculpted from football, have become even more defined.

Every time he walks around in those ridiculously short Lululemon shorts, you have to physically stop yourself from staring. When he's shirtless, which seems to be more often now, it's even worse. The way his abs flex when he stretches, the beads of sweat trickling down his chest… it's almost too much to handle and it got you drooling like an absolute idiot.

"Hey, I'm back!" Jude calls from the hallway. "Just going to shower real quick, then I'll join you."

You hear the water start and you try to refocus on your book, but your mind is already racing with images of him wet, naked in the shower.

When he emerges, you nearly drop your book. He's wearing only a pair of grey sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, revealing the sharp lines of his Adonis belt. His hair is damp, curls falling across his forehead. As he rubs the towel over his head, his abs ripple and his biceps bulge, the muscles in his back shifting beneath his skin.

It's also painfully obvious he's not wearing anything underneath those sweats and the thought alone makes you wet.

"Ready for some cuddle time?" he asks, tossing the towel onto a chair and climbing into bed.

You nod, trying to appear casual as he pulls you against his chest. He shifts, pulling you on top of him so you're lying flush against his body.

"How was your day?" he asks, his fingers combing through your hair.

Your hands rest on his broad shoulders and you can't help but trace the defined muscles of his forearms. His veins are prominent, trailing down to his large hands and you find yourself mesmerized by them.

"Fine," you manage, your voice slightly breathless.

You shift against him, restless, your thighs clenching together as a wave of arousal washes over you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent, hoping that will erase the unholy thoughts from your mind.

"Everything okay?" he asks, a note of concern in his voice.

You don't know how to answer that, so you just press a soft kiss against his neck.

Jude's hands begin to roam your body. "You seem a little distracted," he murmurs, a teasing edge to his voice. "Want to tell me something?"

"I just… you've been looking a bit too good lately," you admit, your cheeks flushing.

He chuckles, a low, cocky sound. "Oh yeah? Noticed the extra hours at the gym, did you?"

You playfully roll your eyes at him. "You shouldn't be this cocky about it."

But he's not listening. He shifts beneath you, his hands moving from your waist to grip your hips, encouraging you to sit up. You move without protest, straddling his lap, the thin material of your shorts and his sweats doing little to dull the heat radiating between you. His bulge presses insistently against your core and you can't help the way your hips twitch in response.

"Go on then," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Show me how much this body's been distracting you."

You bite your lip, hesitating for only a moment before giving in. You start to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips against his. The friction sends sparks of pleasure through your veins. Each roll of your hips drags your clothed pussy along the length of his cock and you can feel him growing harder beneath you.

"Fuck, Jude," you breathe out, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders.

"Yeah, just like that," he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. His eyes are half-lidded, watching you through his lashes and the sight alone makes you wetter. He looks so beautiful underneath you.

You move against him a little faster, every movement fueled by fucked out look in his eyes. Your movements become more erratic as pleasure builds within you.

"Look at you, baby," he murmurs, his hands tightening on your hips. "So desperate for it. Does it feel good? Grinding against my cock like the greedy little thing you are?"

You can only whimper in response, too lost in sensation to form coherent words. Your breaths come in short, sharp pants, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You gonna come just from this?" he asks, a smirk playing at his lips. "Just from rubbing your little pussy all over my cock?"

His filthy words send you closer to the edge and you can feel your climax approaching. But just as you're about to tumble over the edge, his hands still your hips, holding you in place. You whine in protest, your body trembling with need.

"No, no, no," you whimper, tears pricking at your eyes. "Please, I was this close."

"Be patient, baby," he murmurs, but you're having none of it.

Your hand slides down between your bodies, palm pressing firmly against the hard ridge straining against his sweats. Jude's breath hitches, his hips bucking involuntarily as you trace his length through the fabric. You can feel him twitch beneath your touch, can feel the heat radiating through the thin material.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. "You're playing with fire, baby."

"Good thing I'm not scared of getting burned," you retort, your fingers curling around him. You stroke him slowly, feeling him grow even harder in your palm.

With a smirk, you shift back, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweats. You tug them down slowly, revealing inch after inch of his flushed skin. His cock springs free, hard and thick, glistening with pre-come, the tip an angry pink.

You lean in, pressing your lips against his stomach. You trail kisses downward, your tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin. You pay special attention to his hips, your teeth grazing the sharp line of his hip bone, making him hiss. But it's his thighs that really captivate you. His thick and muscular thighs, which have been on your mind a little too much lately. You worship them with your mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling the muscles tremble beneath your touch.

"Fuck, stop teasing," he groans, his hands tangling in your hair.

You look up at him through your lashes, a wicked glint in your eyes. "Or what?" you challenge, before finally taking pity on him.

You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. You hollow your cheeks, sucking gently and he groans, his hips jerking forward.

"God, your mouth," he breathes out, his fingers tightening in your hair.

You take him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. You can feel the way his muscles tense as he resists the urge to push you further down, the way his stomach clenches with every flick of your tongue. You dig your nails into his thighs, leaving faint red marks in your wake and he groans, the sound vibrating through his entire body.

You pay special attention to the vein on the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing the raised ridge. He whimpers, his hips stuttering and you know you're driving him crazy. You suck harder, your head bobbing faster, taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat.

"Fuck, I'm gonna…" he starts, but you pull away before he can finish.

"What the fuck?" he groans, his eyes flying open. "Don't stop, I was so close."

You smirk, crawling back up his body until you're straddling his hips again. "You didn't let me come," you remind him, your voice low and husky. "So now I won't let you come. It's as easy as that, baby."

Your smirk is still playing on your lips when Jude moves. One second you're straddling his hips and the next you're on your back, the air knocked from your lungs as he flips you with an effortless strength that makes your head spin.

He's above you now, caging you in, his arms bracketing your head as he holds himself over you. The muscles in his biceps and shoulders ripple and tense and the sight of him above you is so fucking sexy it makes your pussy clench with need.

"Think you're clever?" he growls. Before you can answer, his mouth is on yours in a punishing kiss. He bites your lower lip, soothing the sting with his tongue and you melt into it, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair.

He breaks the kiss, panting slightly and shifts his hips. You feel the hot, heavy length of his cock sliding through your slick folds. He coats himself in your wetness, the head bumping against your clit with every pass, making you whimper and arch against him.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as he looks down at you. "All spread out underneath me. You look so much smaller like this." He punctuates his words with another drag of his cock against your entrance. "Did all that time in the gym make me too big for you, baby?"

The mocking tone, combined with his relentless teasing, only makes you want him more. So you take matters into your own hands. You wrap your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together at the small of his back and pull him down, using all your strength to hopefully get what you've been craving all along.

He gives a dark chuckle against your lips. "So eager," he whispers and then he's pushing into you.

He enters you slowly, inch by agonizing inch. It's a torturous pace that allows you to feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as your walls stretch and flutter to accommodate him. He doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, his hips flush against yours.

He stills then, deep inside you and you can feel him pulsing, can feel the way your body clenches around him, trying to pull him deeper.

He loves it. You can tell by the smug look on his face. He loves watching you struggle to take him, loves how desperate you are for his cock.

"Please, Jude," you whine, trying to rock your hips to encourage him to move. "Please, move."

"Please, Jude" he mock, mimicking your pleading tone. Then he pulls out almost completely, leaving just the tip inside you. You feel so empty you're about to start begging again when he slams back into you. Hard.

The force of his thrust steals your breath and stops the sassy retort that was forming on your tongue. He sets a punishing rhythm, pounding you into the mattress, his hips snapping against yours with a force that has the bedframe slamming against the wall.

It's exactly what you needed, exactly what you were craving and you can't do anything but take it. You don't want to do anything but take it.

"Fuck, yes," you moan, your head thrown back. "Just like that. You feel so good, Jude. So fucking deep. You're so... oh my god... you're so big."

Your praise seems to spur him on. He groans, his movements becoming more erratic. Your hands slide down his back, your nails digging into his sweat-slicked skin and you can feel the muscles rippling beneath your touch with every thrust.

"I need you come for me, baby," he growls, his voice strained. "Come all over my cock"

The knot in your stomach tightens until it finally snaps, pleasure crashing through you so hard your vision turns white. Your back arches off the bed, pressing your chest flush against Jude's as a broken moan tears from your throat. Your thighs clamp around his hips, your body locking up around him as he continues to fuck you through it.

The library is dead silent, but your mind is anything but. You've been staring at the same page of your political theory textbook for twenty minutes, the words blurring into meaningless shapes.

It's been a while since you've seen Jude in person and you miss him. Badly.

Your phone buzzes on the table, a welcome distraction from the academic torture. Just finished training. You awake?

A smile tugs at your lips. Barely. drowning in political theory. you?

Missing you, he replies instantly. Wish you were here.

Me too. My bed feels too big without you in it.

There's a pause before his next message comes through. Send me a picture.

Your cheeks flush as you glance around the deserted library. Here?

Yeah. Right now. I need to see you.

Slipping into the restroom, you lean against the counter and snap a quick photo in the mirror, just your face, hair falling around your shoulders, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Not what I meant, he texts back. Lift your shirt.

Your heart races as you comply, pulling your sweater up to reveal the simple black lace bra you threw on this morning.

Beautiful, he replies. But the library bathroom? Really?

It was private! you type back, feeling bold. What are you wearing?

Just joggers. Thinking about you has me… distracted.

How distracted? you ask, your fingers trembling slightly as you type.

Enough that I had to come back to my room. Alone.

Poor Jude. Need some help?

Maybe. What are you doing after the library?

Going home to an empty bed. Unless you have other ideas?

Go home now. I'll call you in ten.

Packing up your things with shaking hands, you practically run back to your dorm room. The phone rings the moment you kick off your shoes.

"Hey," you breathe, sinking onto your bed.

"Did you run?" Jude asks, his voice deeper than usual.

"Maybe," you admit.

"Good girl," he praises. "Are you in bed?"

You nod before remembering he can't see you. "Yeah."

"Take off your shirt," he commands. "I want to imagine you there, just like in that picture."

Your hands tremble slightly as you pull the sweater over your head, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin. "Okay."

"Are your nipples hard?" he asks.

You run your fingers over them, shivering at the sensation. "Yes."

"Pinch one for me. Not too hard, just enough to make you gasp."

You do as he says, a small gasp escaping your lips. "Jude…"

"I hear it," he says, his voice strained. "I hear that little sound you make when you're turned on. Now slide your hand down your body, nice and slow. Tell me what you feel."

"Soft," you breathe, your fingers trailing down your stomach. "Warm."

"When you get to your jeans, don't touch yet," he instructs. "Just run your fingers along the edge, back and forth. Tease yourself like I would."

Your breath hitches as you follow his instructions, the light touch sending shivers through you. "Jude, please…"

"Please what?" he asks, though you know he knows exactly what you want.

"Please let me touch myself."

"Not yet," he says firmly. "You're being such a good girl, following instructions. But you need to learn patience. Now take off those jeans for me."

You wiggle out of them, tossing them aside. "Okay."

"Spread your legs for me, baby. Wide open. I want to imagine you there, waiting for me."

You comply, feeling exposed and vulnerable despite being alone. "Like this?"

"Perfect," he murmurs. "Now I want you to circle your clit with one finger. Just one. Slow circles. Tell me how it feels."

Your finger finds the sensitive bundle of nerves and you gasp at the contact. "So good. So sensitive."

"Keep going," he commands. "Nice and slow. Build that pressure. I want you right on the edge, but don't you dare come."

You follow his instructions, your breathing growing ragged as pleasure builds. "Jude, I'm close."

"Already?" he teases. "God, you're so desperate for it, aren't you? Can't even control yourself without me here to guide you."

The words should embarrass you, but instead they send a fresh wave of arousal through you. "I need you," you whimper.

"I know, baby, I know," he says, his voice softening slightly. "But you're not coming yet. Stop touching."

You whine in protest but obey, removing your hand. "Jude…"

"It's okay," he soothes. "You're being so good for me. So obedient. Now I want you to get that little rose toy I bought you. Remember the one?"

Your heart races at the thought. "In my nightstand."

"Go get it."

You scramble to retrieve the toy, returning to the bed with trembling hands. "Okay."

"Now turn it on the lowest setting. Just a gentle buzz," he instructs.

You do as he says, the low vibration sending pleasure through you as you press it against your clit. "Oh god…"

"How does that feel?" he asks.

"So good," you breathe. "So much better than my fingers."

"Good," he says. "Now increase the speed just a little. Not too much, just enough to make your hips start moving."

You adjust the setting, your body arching involuntarily. "Jude…"

"I hear it in your voice," he says, his own breathing growing heavier. "You're getting close again, aren't you?"

You nod, then remember to speak. "Yes. Please let me come this time."

"Not yet," he says firmly. "Turn it up again. The middle setting."

You comply, crying out as the stronger vibration pushes you closer to the edge. "Please, Jude, I can't…"

"Can't what?" he challenges. "Can't control yourself? Can't come without me telling you how? God, you're pathetic sometimes, aren't you? So needy, so desperate for my guidance."

The degradation should sting, but instead it pushes you higher, your body trembling with need. "Please…"

"Turn it to the highest setting," he commands. "Right against your clit. Don't move it, just hold it there."

You fumble with the controls, then press the buzzing toy against your most sensitive spot. The intense pleasure is almost too much and you cry out, your back arching off the bed.

"That's it, baby," Jude encourages. "Let me hear those sounds. Let me hear how desperate you are for me."

Tears of pleasure and frustration stream down your face as you hover on the edge of orgasm, unable to tip over without his permission. "Please, Jude, please let me come. I'll do anything, just please…"

"Anything?" he asks, his voice dark with satisfaction. "You'll be my good girl? You'll wait for me whenever you need it like this?"

"Yes," you sob. "Anything, just please let me come."

"Okay, baby," he says finally. "Come for me. Now. Let me hear you scream my name."

The permission is all you need. The orgasm crashes over you, intense and overwhelming. You scream his name as waves of pleasure course through you, your body convulsing with the force of your release.

"That's it," Jude praises as you ride out your orgasm. "Such a good girl for me. Coming so hard for me."

As the pleasure subsides, you collapse against the pillows, panting and trembling. "Jude," you whisper, completely spent.

"I'm here, baby," he says softly. "Did so good for me. So proud of you."

You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the pride in how well you followed his instructions. "Miss you," you murmur, your eyes already drifting closed.

When you woke up, your head was pounding, your throat sore, and your nose stuffy. You tried to stand up and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth but just sitting up made you dizzy, so you laid back down and curled up in the sheets. It wasn't five minutes later before you fell asleep again, the comforter tight around you.

Three hours later, Jamal walked into your apartment, "hey, babe, I'm here!" he called out as he walked toward your room, where he assumed you would be finishing up getting ready.

His eyebrows furrowed at your lack of response and he was suddenly aware of the silence in the apartment. He kept walking down the hallway, waiting to hear any sign of your presence. When he reached your bedroom, he found the door closed, so he knocked gently.

"Babe?"

Still, he got no response from you, so he opened the door slowly. The sight in front of him made him frown, you were still in bed, seemingly deep in sleep. He hesitated for just a moment, then made his way over to the side of your bed.

"Baby," he spoke softly, rubbing your cheek gently to coax you awake.

You groaned, your head throbbing as you were pulled from sleep.

"Hey, you okay?" Jamal asked.

Your eyes finally opened as you registered his voice and you looked up at him.

"Jamal," you gasped. In your haze of sickness, you'd forgotten you had a date with your boyfriend, which was apparently right now.

You tried to sit up, but you got dizzy again and had to hold your head in your hands.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" he reached out and put a supportive hand on your back.

You sniffled, "I'm so sorry. I- I didn't mean to forget I'm so sorry. I just…" you cleared your throat but your voice was still rough and your throat felt raw, "I woke up and I didn't feel good so I laid back down but I guess I fell back asleep and- I'm sorry."

His eyes softened, "it's okay. If you're sick we shouldn't go out anyway."

"Okay," you frowned, "…can I see you tomorrow then?"

"Oh I'm not going anywhere," he guided you to lay your head back on the pillow.

"What?" your nose scrunched up.

"I'm gonna stay with you until you feel better," he said simply, pushing your hair back and pressing his hand to your forehead, "what hurts, baby? I'll get you some medicine."

"Everything," you groaned. Tears brimmed your eyes, but you weren't sure if they were caused by your pain or how sweet Jamal was being.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "okay, baby. I'll be right back."

You watched him as he walked out of the room, still feeling guilty for forgetting about your date.

He came back a couple minutes later, holding a few pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He helped you sit up just enough to take them and made you drink a good amount of water.

"Do you need anything else?" he ran his fingers through your hair, and as you looked up at him you wanted to melt.

How could someone be so sweet? So perfect? You felt disgusting and you knew you probably looked disgusting too, but there he was, insisting on taking care of you without a complaint.

"No," you whispered.

"Okay," he smiled, and then he was taking his hoodie off, then his jeans, leaving him in just his tshirt and boxers.

"What're you doing?" you asked.

"Getting in bed," he responded, then paused, "is that okay?"

"Jamal, I'm gonna get you sick," you frowned. You wanted to say yes, tell him it was more than okay, that cuddling into him would make everything better, would probably cure your sickness in seconds. But you cared about him and his health, so you didn't, "you… you should probably go."

He frowned, clearly displeased by that idea, "you don't want me here?"

"I just don't want to get you sick," you insisted.

"I don't care," he shook his head a little, already climbing into the bed next to you, clearly not willing to take no for an answer, "my girl's sick, so I'm taking care of her."

The way he said it so simply, the quiet certainty in his voice, made you feel like crying. You couldn't believe how lucky you were to have such a sweet, caring boyfriend.

As soon as he was settled in the bed, you curled up against him, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby," he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

Now in the comfort and warmth of his hold, you fell asleep again.

When you woke up hours later, you were hot and sweaty, your hair was stuck to your neck, and you felt like even the slightest movement might make you pass out.

"Jamal," you mumbled, pushing against his chest.

He seemed to realize what you needed instantly. He pulled all the blankets off of you, then stood up from the bed to turn the fan on. You could hear him say something, but you were too out of it to register the words. Relief flooded your body when he came back a minute later and laid a cold washcloth across your forehead.

"Oh," you sighed in relief, "I love you."

He smiled as he worked on tucking your hair behind your ears, "I love you too, baby."

Before you knew it, there were tears slipping down your cheeks.

"Woah, what's wrong?" Jamal asked, a hint of panic in his tone.

"I just love you so much," you cried.

"Oh honey," he kissed the corner of your mouth, "I love you too, more than anything. But you don't need to cry. I'm right here."

"You're just so sweet," your tears didn't stop as you started rambling, "I'm so gross and sick and you're taking care of me anyway and you still love me even when I probably look really bad and you still wanna kiss me even though you're probably gonna get sick now and I've just never met someone so sweet in my entire life."

"Y/n," he held your face in his hands, "I'm in love with you. I'm always gonna take care of you, no matter what."

"You're in love with me?"

He laughed fondly, "of course I am."

You sniffled, "I'm in love with you too."

"Good," he pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth, "now, why don't I take you out to the couch so you can stay close to me while I make you something to eat? Cause it's almost four in the afternoon and you haven't eaten anything yet today."

"Okay," you agreed easily.

He reached down and picked you up bridal style, like it was nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him carry you out to the living room. There were still tears stuck to your lashes, but your breathing had calmed down now.

When he laid you down on the couch, he kept his body close to you for a while, just leaning over you and looking at your face.

"What?" luckily, your face was already flush, so he couldn't see the blush that spread across your cheeks.

"I just… really am in love with you," he said softly, "you're so beautiful, even all snotty and covered in sweat. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen."

"Jamal," you whispered as more tears formed on your water line.

"Don't cry again, baby," he kissed away the single tear that had fallen, "here," he handed you the remote, "pick something for us to watch while I cook and then I'll come cuddle you while we eat, okay?"

"Okay," you nodded, "thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly.

He gave you one more kiss on the forehead before he walked away into the kitchen. You put something you didn't really care about on the tv, because your entire focus was on your boyfriend, who you could see moving around the kitchen with ease.

The sounds of the bar were muffled when Jude closed the door behind you. He turned the lock, leaving the two of you completely alone in the small single bathroom.

Before you could even say anything, your boyfriend's lips crashed into yours. The kiss was aggressive and heated, his tongue easily dominating yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him lead.

"You look so fucking hot in that dress," he muttered against your lips, "how do you expect me to keep my hands off of you when you look like that?"

"Jude," you gasped, but he was already spinning you around, pushing you forward until your hips met the edge of the sink.

He bent you forward, so you gripped the sides of the sink to brace yourself. Once he had you positioned the way he wanted, he flipped the bottom of your dress up and pulled your panties down to your knees.

Without any pretense, he lined up with your entrance and pushed into you. You gasped, your head falling forward between your shoulders.

"Fuck," he grunted.

His thrusts were fast and rough, making you groan with each push.

"Shh, baby," he whispered in your ear, "gotta stay quiet so we don't get caught."

Your response came in the form of a loud whine, so Jude gripped your chin and slid two fingers into your mouth. You moaned around them, but they served their purpose and muffled the sound.

"Shit," he nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear, "you love my cock so much, don't you?"

You nodded eagerly, unable to speak with his fingers in your mouth.

"Yeah, I know you do, baby. Always love it so much when I fuck you."

The sound of his voice in your ear only added to your pleasure. You always loved when he talked to you like that, and the way he was grunting between words made you feel hot all over.

"Look at you," he tilted your head up, "so fucking needy for it."

You nodded again, your eyes rolling back.

"C'mon, look at yourself, baby. Look in the mirror. Watch yourself."

You whined and looked in the mirror. Your eyes were immediately drawn to Jude and the bead of sweat on his temple.

"Don't look at me," he tapped your cheek with his thumb, "look at yourself."

He waited until your eyes moved and you were staring at yourself in the mirror.

"That's it," he smirked, "good girl. Just watch yourself."

He kept up the steady rhythm of his thrusts, holding your waist with one hand while his other was still occupied with his fingers in your mouth. You kept your eyes on yourself in the mirror, watching the way your eyebrows pinched together in pleasure and drool dripped from your lips around Jude's fingers.

"You just love this so much, don't you?" he murmured in your ear again, "you love that I'm fucking you dumb in this dirty bathroom, huh? Fuck, you're taking me so well. I bet you love that all my friends are right out there too, you're getting off on the fact that we're doing this in public, in the bathroom of a crowded bar where we could get caught, aren't you?"

Your eyes slipped closed and you groaned around his fingers.

"Look," he said firmly, making your eyes snap open, "don't close your eyes," you could tell he was getting close by the way his thrusts sped up, "want you to watch yourself while I make you cum."

His hand that had been holding your hip moved down between your legs. He found your clit easily and applied an intense amount of pressure, enough to make you cry out.

"Shh," he whispered, "I know it feels good but you can't be too loud when you cum for me."

He moved even faster, his hips slapping against yours and his fingers working your clit skillfully. A couple minutes later, the coil of pleasure snapped and your body shook. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open and focused on yourself in the mirror even as your orgasm crashed through you.

"There you go, baby," Jude muttered, "that's it."

He gave a few more sharp thrusts, then came inside you with a deep groan. He buried his face in your neck and spent a few seconds trying to catch his breath before he stood up straight. He took his fingers out of your mouth and pulled out of you slowly, immediately reaching over to grab some toilet paper so he could wipe away his cum that dripped out of you.

"Such a good girl for me," he praised as he worked on cleaning you up, "you okay?"

You nodded, still leaning against the sink to stay upright.

He tossed the toilet paper into the trash can and pulled your panties up for you, straightening your dress with gentle care. You took a deep breath and turned around to face him, letting him pull you against his chest.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," you responded quietly, nodding.

"You ready to go back out there?"

"Ready to break some hearts?" your friend jokes from behind you, adjusting the strap of her own dress.

You laugh, turning to face her. "Hardly. It's just a party."

One of your guy friends calls your name from the living room. "Come on, guys, we're going to be late."

As you step into the living room, his eyes widen appreciatively. "Wow, you look… wow."

Your friend snorts. "Smooth. Real smooth, dude."

"What? I'm just appreciating beauty when I see it," he says with a grin, pulling out his phone. "Come here, let's get a picture."

You roll your eyes but lean in next to him, your friend squeezing in on your other side. He holds up his phone, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he snaps the photo.

"Perfect," he declares, tapping away at his screen. "Going up on the story right now."

You grab your purse from the couch and drag your friend along with you. "Let's go before one of our friends sends out a search party."

The drive to the party is filled with laughter and music and the three of you singing along to whatever's playing on the radio. It's not until you're pulling up to the house that you notice Jude already standing by the entrance, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.

Your smile falters when he doesn't immediately rush to greet you like he usually does. Instead, his eyes flick from you to your friend, who's getting out of the driver's seat and back to you again.

"Hey," you say cautiously as you approach him. "You okay?"

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and tight. His eyes haven't left your friend, who's now standing near the entrance.

"Jude, what's wrong?" you ask, reaching for his hand like you normally would, but he doesn't take it.

"You got ready at her place," he states. "Not at my place. Like you usually do."

Your brow furrows in confusion. "She invited me over. I didn't think you'd mind. She said she just wanted some girl time."

"But he was also there. I saw the picture he posted," he continues, his jaw clenching. "You looked…. cozy."

"It was just a funny picture, Jude. Nothing happened," you say softly.

"But he drove you here," he says, finally turning his full attention to you. "When you know that I'm the one who usually drives you everywhere."

"I thought you'd be happy not to have to drive me for once," you whisper, feeling a strange flutter in your chest.

"I would've been happy," he says, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "if you had been at my apartment. Getting ready with me. If I had been the first one to see you in that beautiful blue dress. If I had been the one taking that picture with you. If I had been driving you here while listening to your favorite music like I always do."

The raw emotion in his voice catches you off guard. "Jude, I… I'm sorry. I didn't know that would be so important to you."

"Everything that concerns you is important to me," he says simply, his eyes softening slightly.

You swallow hard. "I'm sorry if I upset you. That wasn't my intention. Is… is everything okay between us?"

He nods, his gaze intense. "Yeah. And I'm sorry that I overreacted. Everything's okay now."

"Can… can I have my hug now?" you ask shyly, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, knowing he can't resist you if you look at him like that.

Something shifts in his expression and without another word, he pulls you into his arms. The hug is tighter than usual, longer, his face burying into the crook of your neck as he breathes you in. When he finally pulls back, his hands linger on your waist.

"Come on," he says, his voice back to its normal warmth. "Let's go inside."

The party is already in full swing, the thumping bass vibrating through the floor as soon as you step inside. Jude's arm immediately wraps around your shoulders, his body positioned slightly in front of yours as he navigates through the crowded house, creating a protective bubble around you in the sea of people.

"Watch it," he mutters as a drunk guy manages to stumble into your space, bumping hard against your shoulder and nearly spilling his drink down the front of your dress.

"Whoa, sorry 'bout that," he slurs, his eyes dragging slowly up and down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. "But damn, worth it to run into you. Nice pair of legs you got there, sugar."

Before you can even form a response Jude has positioned himself directly between you and the drunk guy, his broad shoulders completely blocking your view.

"And I think you need to back the fuck off," Jude says, his voice low and dangerously calm, a tone you've never heard from him before. It's devoid of its usual warmth, replaced by something that sends a shiver down your spine.

The drunk guy blinks and takes a sloppy step back. "Whoa, man, chill out. I was just complimenting her."

Jude takes a step forward, invading the guy's space, his jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitching. "I don't care what you were doing. You don't get to touch her. You don't get to talk to her. You don't even get to look at her. Now get lost."

"Alright, alright, my bad. I'm gone," the guy mumbles, scrambling away and disappearing into the crowd.

The tension hangs in the air for a moment after he's gone. Jude stands there for a second, his back still to you, his shoulders rigid. Then he takes a deep breath and turns, his expression immediately softening as his eyes find yours.

"You okay?" he asks, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. "Did he hurt you?"

You shake your head, your heart still pounding from the whiplash of his transformation. "No, I'm fine. He just… bumped into me."

"Good," he says, his voice still a little tight as he pulls you back into his side, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. "Come on. Let's go find our friends."

You find them near the makeshift bar in the kitchen, drinks already in hand. "There you are!" your friend calls, waving you over.

Jude makes sure you're settled before grabbing drinks for both of you, his eyes never straying too far from where you're standing.

"You okay?" you ask, noting the tension still in his shoulders.

"Perfect now," he says, pressing a cold bottle into your hand.

The mood lifts as you joke around with your friends, laughter filling the small kitchen space. Jude watches from his position beside you, a soft smile on his face as he listens to you tell some ridiculous story about your week.

When your drink runs empty, he's already reaching for another, his hand brushing against your lower back as he passes it to you. "I've got you," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the fabric of your dress.

Later, as you bend down to pick up a napkin that fell to the floor, Jude's hand shoots out to cover the sharp corner of the table. When you straighten up, your head only collides with his palm instead of the wooden edge.

"Whoa," you say, laughing. "Thank you."

"No problem. Just looking out for you," he says, withdrawing his hand but not his gaze.

Your friend notices the exchange, raising an eyebrow. "Do you ever stop staring at her? It's like you're constantly on bodyguard duty, making sure nothing harms a hair on her head."

Another friend chimes in, "Seriously, last week at the mall, he practically growled at that guy who bumped into her."

Jude's jaw tightens. "She's important to me." He says it so matter-of-factly that no one interrupts. "If keeping an eye on her means I know she's safe, then yeah, that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Your friend lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

"He's not wrong, though," another friend adds teasingly. "Remember that time at the concert when she almost got trampled? Jude turned into a human shield."

"I wasn't going to let anything happen to her," Jude says, his voice low but firm.

Your cheeks feel hot as your friends continue to recount instances of Jude's protective behavior. "Okay, okay, we get it. Jude's a good friend."

"The best friend," he corrects, his eyes meeting yours. "Right?"

You nod, unable to form words as your heart pounds in your chest.

The conversation shifts to plans for the next few weeks, someone mentioning a trip to New York. "You should come with us," they say, turning to you.

"I can't," you reply automatically. "Jude and I are planning to go to the cabin."

A few friends immediately jump in. "Ooh, cabin trip! Can we come too?"

Before you can respond, Jude cuts in. "Actually, it's going to be a small trip. Just the two of us. The cabin owner said they're doing some maintenance on the neighboring properties, so it'll be pretty quiet."

Someone nudges him playfully. "Just trying to get her alone, huh?"

Jude's eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable. "So what if I do?"

The group falls silent for a moment, your friends exchanging knowing looks. You feel your cheeks flush at his bluntness, but before anyone can respond, the subject thankfully changes.

As the party winds down, Jude insists on you staying at his place. "I didn't see you all day," he says, his voice low in your ear. "I missed you."

You tease him, "Someone's needy tonight."

He just mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, "If only you knew."

Back at his apartment, you change into one of his oversized shirts, the soft fabric smelling faintly of him. When you emerge from the bathroom, he's already in bed, propped up against the headboard.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. "That shirt looks better on you than it ever did on me."

You blush before sliding under the covers and he immediately pulls you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist. "I love having you here," he murmurs into your hair. "In my apartment. In my bed. Wearing my clothes."

You smile, resting your head on his chest. "I like being here too. It's like my second home."

"I wish someday this would be your only home," he says softly.

You pull back slightly to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he says before reaching over to his nightstand. "I actually have something for you."

He hands you a small, wrapped package with a little bow. "Jude, you didn't have to," you say before unwrapping it carefully.

Inside is a delicate necklace with a heart pendant, a small diamond sparkling in the dim light. "Oh my god," you breathe, your fingers tracing the delicate chain. "Jude, it's… that's too much."

"Turn it around," he says gently.

On the back, you can see your initials engraved next to his. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes. "It's so beautiful."

"You deserve everything and more," he says, taking the necklace from your trembling fingers. "I'd give you the world if you asked for it."

He fastens it around your neck, his fingers lingering against your skin as he gathers your hair to the side. The gentle brush of his knuckles against your nape sends a shiver through you and you can feel the warmth of his breath near your ear.

"It looks beautiful on you. Just like I knew it would," he murmurs, his voice thick with an emotion you can't quite place.

You turn to wrap your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you," you whisper against his chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

When you pull back, your faces are only inches apart. The air crackles with a new tension. You notice his eyes flicker down to your mouth for just a second before meeting yours again.

Is he thinking about kissing you? Because suddenly, all you can think about is kissing him.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a frantic rhythm that matches the throbbing in your lips. You want to lean in. You want to close that tiny gap and find out what his mouth feels like against yours.

But this is your best friend. Your Jude.

You can't fuck this up. You can't risk your friendship like that.

You pull back with a shy, awkward smile. "We should probably get some sleep," you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you shift away slightly, creating a small space between you in the bed.

The air thickens with unspoken words. Jude's eyes hold yours for a moment longer, something unreadable swirling in their depths before he nods slowly. "Right," he says, his voice rough. "Sleep."

He settles back against the pillows, turning off the lamp and plunging the room into darkness. You lie there, hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the unfamiliar weight of the new necklace resting against your skin. Sleep doesn't come easily.

The next two weeks fall into a comfortable, yet slightly charged, routine. It's filled with exactly what you've always loved about your friendship, but now, everything feels tinged with a new layer of something you can't quite name. Or aren't brave enough to name.

There are multiple banana bread bake-offs in Jude's kitchen, which inevitably end with flour on your nose and his low laughter as he wipes it away with his thumb. There are Disney movie nights where you both sing along to every song, your voices harmonizing effortlessly on the couch, his arm draped across the back of it. There are spontaneous coffee dates when his schedule allows, him showing up at your door with your favorite latte in hand, his smile making your stomach do a little flip.

Before you know it, it's Friday morning. The day of the cabin trip.

You're just finishing zipping your bag when you hear the familiar rumble of his car pulling up outside. A moment later, there's a knock at your door. You open it to find him standing there, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Ready?" he asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

You nod, grabbing your bag. "Ready."

Before you can even lift it, he's taking it from you, his muscles flexing under the thin fabric of his t-shirt as he hoists it with ease. "I got it."

He leads the way down to his car, opening the passenger door for you. As you climb in, you notice two things on the console: your favorite coffee from the cozy little shop downtown, still steaming hot and a fluffy throw blanket folded neatly.

"Jude," you say, touched. "You didn't have to."

"I know," he replies, his voice soft as he gets in and starts the engine. "But I wanted to. And I know you can't get comfortable without a blanket on your lap."

The drive out of the city is peaceful, the morning sun filtering through the trees. You sip your coffee, pulling the blanket around you as you lean your head against the window, the steady hum of the engine and the quiet music playing from the speakers lulling you into a comfortable state.

You're drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness when you feel his hand gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. You don't open your eyes, just lean into the touch slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

"Get some sleep," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. "We've got a long week ahead."

You're already running late and you know Jude will be pacing in your living room, radiating impatience. The soft click of your lipstick tube closing breaks the silence of your bedroom as you give yourself one final look in the mirror.

"Almost ready!" you call out, slipping into your heels and smoothing down a nonexistent wrinkle before heading out the door.

You find him exactly where you expected, standing by the window, arms crossed with a frown etched on his face. He turns when you enter the room and his expression immediately softens. It always does that when he looks at you.

"Finally," he says, but there's no real bite to his words. He closes the distance between you, his hands coming to rest on your waist. "You look incredible."

You smile up at him. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Bellingham."

His fingers trace the bare skin of your back where your dress dips low. "Maybe we should just skip it. Stay in."

You swat at his arm playfully. "No way. Everyone's expecting us."

Jude sighs dramatically but keeps his hands on you as you grab your purse from the couch. "Fine. But I'm driving."

"Obviously," you reply with a laugh.

It's always been this way, Jude driving you everywhere, his hand occasionally finding your thigh during the drive, his eyes flicking to you more often than the road.

The restaurant is already buzzing when you arrive, your friend group occupying a long table near the back. As soon as you walk in, heads turn and people wave you over.

"There you are!" someone calls from the middle of the table.

Jude's arm immediately wraps around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he navigates through the crowded space. He leads you to two empty seats, making sure to take the one next to you before anyone else can claim it.

"Sorry we're late," you say, greeting everyone with hugs and smiles. Jude watches each interaction closely, his hand never straying far from your back or arm.

As the evening progresses, you find yourself deep in conversation with a few friends across the table, laughing and sharing stories. You're so absorbed that you don't notice Jude growing quieter beside you, his jaw tightening slightly.

"Hey," he says, his voice low in your ear. "Remember that thing we needed to sort out for next week?"

You turn to him, confused. "What thing?"

He gives you a look that you can't quite decipher. "The tickets. Come outside with me for a minute."

You excuse yourself, following him out into the cool night air. A shiver runs through you instantly, the evening breeze raising goosebumps on your bare arms.

"What's up? Is everything okay?" you ask, rubbing your arms for warmth.

"Everything's fine," he says, his eyes narrowing as he notices your reaction to the cold. Before you can protest, he's shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders. "I just wanted a minute alone with you before everyone else steals all your attention."

You laugh, pulling the jacket tighter around yourself, not noticing the intensity in his gaze as he watches you wear something of his. "They're not stealing my attention. I'm just being social."

"I know," he says, his hands flexing at his sides as if resisting the urge to touch you. "I just don't like sharing you."

Before you can respond, one of your guy friends comes stumbling out of the restaurant. "There you are! We're ordering shots if you want in."

Jude's posture stiffens, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. "She's good. We'll be back in a minute."

Your friend looks between you both, an awkward smile on his face. "Right. Well, don't be too long."

When he's gone, you turn to Jude with a raised eyebrow. "That was a bit much."

"He'll live," Jude says dismissively, stepping closer. "You're still cold." Without waiting for a response, he pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you and rubbing your back. "Better?"

You nod against his chest, breathing in his familiar, clean scent. "Much better. Thanks."

"Anything for you," he murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head. "You know, you look incredible tonight. Not that you don't always look incredible, but tonight… something's different."

Your cheeks flush at his compliment. "It's just the dress."

"It's not just the dress," he says softly, his arms tightening around you. "It's you. You always shine, but tonight you're blinding."

You pull back slightly to look up at him, your heart fluttering at the raw emotion in his eyes.

"Jude…we should probably go back inside. Before they send out a search party."

He sighs but follows you back to the table, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back. For the rest of the dinner, he keeps you close, his arm draped across your chair, his fingers occasionally tracing patterns on your shoulder.

When it's time to leave, Jude helps you with your jacket, his hands lingering on your arms as he adjusts the collar. "You're staying at my place tonight," he says, not a question but a statement.

"I am?" you ask, surprised.

"You are," he confirms. "It's too late for you to go home alone."

You don't argue, it's easier to agree than to fight with him when he gets like this. Besides, you've stayed over countless times before.

The drive back to his place is quiet, a slow R&B track playing softly in the background. Jude's hand rests on your thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth in a rhythm that's both comforting and distracting.

"You were quiet at dinner," you say, breaking the silence.

He glances at you before turning his attention back to the road. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"Things," he says vaguely. "Us."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. "What about us?"

"Nothing bad," he reassures you, his fingers squeezing your thigh gently. "Just… how much I love having you around."

You smile, relieved. "I love being around you too. You're my best friend."

Something flashes in his eyes at your words, but it's gone too quickly for you to identify. "Yeah," he says, his voice suddenly tight. "Best friends."

At his apartment, he immediately takes your jacket, his fingers brushing against yours as he does. "Make yourself at home," he says, disappearing into the kitchen.

You curl up on his couch, pulling a blanket over yourself. When he returns with two mugs of tea, he sits right beside you, his arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders.

"You know," he says, handing you a mug, "I've been thinking about that trip we talked about taking."

"To the coast?" you ask, sipping the warm tea.

"Yeah. Maybe we could go next month? Just the two of us."

"That sounds amazing," you say enthusiastically. "But what about everyone else? They'll want to come too."

"I was thinking it could just be us this time," he says, his voice casual but his eyes watching you intently. "Like old times."

You consider it for a moment. "That would be nice. It's been a while since it's just been the two of us."

A small smile plays on his lips. "Exactly. Just us."

The next day, you're at the mall with a few of your friends, including Jude. As usual, he sticks close to your side, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you walk through the crowded stores.

"I need to find a dress for that party next week," you say, pulling him toward a clothing store.

"I'll wait outside," one of your guy friends says. "Clothes shopping isn't really my thing."

"Me neither," another agrees. "We'll grab coffee and meet you guys back here in an hour."

As they walk away, Jude's arm immediately wraps around your waist. "Good. Now it's just us."

You laugh, used to his constant need for physical contact. "You're impossible."

"Maybe," he admits, his fingers tracing circles on your hip. "But you love it."

You don't deny it, because you do, in a way. You've always loved how protective he is, how he always makes sure you're safe and comfortable. You've just never questioned why he needs to be so close, why he seems to relax when it's just the two of you.

In the dressing room, you hold up a few options, seeking Jude's opinion on each one.

"That one," he says immediately when you step out in a deep green dress. "Definitely that one."

You turn to look at yourself in the mirror. "Really? It's a bit more revealing than what I usually wear."

"It's perfect," he insists, coming up behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You look incredible."

His eyes meet yours in the mirror and for a moment, you see something there, something that runs deeper than friendship. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual easy smile.

"Fine," you say, turning back to face him. "I'll get this one."

His hands rest on your waist as you look at yourself again. "You know, if you wear that to the party, I might have to fight some guys off."

You roll your eyes. "You're so dramatic."

"Am I?" he asks, his voice suddenly serious. "Or am I just being honest about how other guys see you?"

Before you can respond, your other friends return, coffee in hand. "Find anything good?" one asks.

Jude's arm tightens around your waist. "She found the perfect dress. But no one else is allowed to see it until the party."

Your friends exchange knowing looks, but you miss it completely.

"Hey, I'm gonna grab a pastry from that stand," one of your guy friends says, gesturing toward the kiosk across the walkway. "Want to join me?"

"Ooh, yes please!" you reply, already turning to go with him. "I'm starving."

You start to walk away, but Jude's hand on your arm stops you. You look back at him questioningly.

"I'll come too," he says, his eyes already fixed on your friend.

Your friend holds up his hands in mock surrender. "No need, man. We'll just be a minute."

Jude's jaw tightens, but he forces a smile and lets go of your arm. "Fine. Don't be long."

You roll your eyes at his overprotectiveness but hurry to catch up with your friend. As you walk away, you can feel Jude's eyes on you, but you don't turn back around.

Left alone, Jude turns his attention back to the remaining friend, who's watching him with an amused expression.

"What?" Jude asks, his voice defensive.