blinds wide open so he can see you in the dark

By 7 PM, Jude’s cab pulled up to the sleek hotel where you were staying. Jude hadn’t warned you he was coming… too eager to surprise you after everything. He paid the driver and walked into the lobby, scanning for directions to your suite number.

Jude stood outside your suite door, heart pounding just a little. After confirming the right room number from the front desk, he reached out and pressed the doorbell—once. A simple ding-dong echoed inside. Jude waited, suddenly hyper-aware of his travel-worn clothes and messy hair from being on planes all day… but too excited to care.

The door swung open, revealing you—in casual clothes, even barefoot. Before you could even say hi properly, Jude launched himself forward, arms locking around your shoulders in a tight hug. You staggered back slightly from the force of it—but instantly wrapped your arms around Jude too, squeezing him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though it’d only been weeks.

Your laugh was warm and relieved, arms tightening around Jude like you never wanted to let go. You buried your face in the crook of Jude’s neck for a second—breathing him in after weeks apart. The hug lasted longer than expected… no rush to pull away. Just two people who missed each other so much finally reconnecting. A soft kiss landed on Jude’s cheek—sweet.

You effortlessly lifted Jude—one strong arm hooked under his rear while the other grabbed both suitcases. With practiced ease, you kicked the hotel room door shut behind them. Jude clung to you like a koala, legs locked around your waist as they moved inside. The luggage clattered softly against the floor by the entrance—you weren't letting go of Jude just yet.

Your teasing grin widened as you finally set Jude down on the bed—only to immediately poke his chest playfully. The 6-4 scoreline was still fresh, and you couldn’t resist roasting England’s aggressiveness.

“6-4? You Englands are greedy” you snorted, “Couldn’t just settle for a normal 2-0 like civilized people.” The sarcasm dripped… but it was affectionate. You loved watching Jude and his teammates dominate on the pitch.

Jude rolled his eyes at your teasing—classic him, always cracking jokes after matches. He couldn’t stay mad.

“Greedy?” Jude echoed, smirking as he pulled you down with him on the bed “It’s just right.” Jude didn’t care. Right now, he just wanted to kiss his boyfriend stupid after weeks apart.

Jude flopped onto his back beside you after kissing you senseless—sprawling like a starfish, limbs taking up way more space than necessary. One arm draped over your waist lazily, pulling you slightly closer without fully cuddling. Just Jude—tired from flight as he stared at the ceiling. You turned your head slightly, studying Jude’s relaxed expression. Your voice was soft—curious.

“Sleepy?” you asked, nudging Jude’s shoulder gently with your own. The question was simple… just checking if the post-pleasure crash had hit him hard enough to pass out right there.

“Not really. I slept through the flight.” Jude’s mind wandered. Then remind.

“Tomorrow,” he started “I'm gonna… bring you home” The ‘home’ part carried weight—the Bellinghams’ house, meeting Jude’s family properly as boyfriends…not childhood best friends.

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up at the mention of going home with Jude—That changed everything. The relationships between two families.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling softly. The Bellinghams had known you for years… but this visit would be different. Official. A mix of nerves and excitement buzzed in him—meeting them again under new terms.

Jude shifted onto his side. The post-game high hadn’t fully worn off—his skin buzzed with energy. It was perfect clubbing time in Spain… neon lights, music pulsing.He turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Wanna hit the club?” he asked—voice already excited at the idea of dancing and taking shots to celebrate his win.

“Of course you would suggest that” you rolled your eyes but smirked—Jude’s post-match energy was predictable. Of course he’d want to hit a club. The snort was affectionate, though. You weren't saying no… just teasing Jude for being so predictable.

Jude whined dramatically—nose scrunched, lips pouting—as he shoved your shoulder again. Just putting on a scene because why not.

“C’monnn,” he drawled, dragging out the word, “Let’s gooo.” The neediness was dialed up to 100… relentless until you gave in and agreed to clubbing.

“Fine—geez” you finally relented with an amused chuckle, pushing yourself up from the bed. You knew Jude hated doing anything fun solo—especially clubbing. The second you moved to get ready, Jude’s pout vanished… replaced by a bright grin. Victory: achieved. Now they’d both dress and head out—probably in matching chaotic energy.

The club was just a few minutes’ walk from the hotel—close enough that they arrived quickly. The second they stepped inside, the bass thumped through their chests, lights strobing wildly. The energy was electric: crowds dancing, drinks being poured… pure chaos in the best way. Jude immediately brightened—this was his element.

You, ever the provider, had your wallet out before Jude could even blink. Whatever Jude wanted—shots? Done. Another round? Paid for instantly. The bartender slid drinks their way without hesitation, you tipped generously too. You didn’t care about the cost… seeing Jude happy and loose was worth every euro.

Jude, buzzing from the shots, grabbed your hand and yanked you toward the dance floor—no hesitation. The music pulsed through them as Jude started moving shamelessly. He wasn’t a perfect dancer… but he was enthusiastic, swaying with hip movements and grinning like an idiot. Pure joy radiated off him. He pressed close, grinding against you in rhythm with the beat. The alcohol had him extra tactile, his body loose and playful, arms looping around your shoulders to pull you closer. They were a tangle of limbs under the club lights.

Jude was wasted—slumped over your back like a sleepy koala, limbs loose and face smushed against your shoulder. Every few steps, Jude mumbled something incoherent.

“You’re handsomeee…can I have your number?” With that cheeky grin you can’t see because you’re busy focusing on the road. You carried him effortlessly—used to Jude’s post-celebration drunk antics—and just focused on getting them safely back to the hotel.

You entertained him back anyway: “Can’t. I have a boyfriend…his name is Jude Bellingham”

Jude’s hands wandered clumsily—tracing your jawline, poking your chest, even squishing your cheeks like a tipsy toddler discovering texture. Every touch was sloppy and affectionate, Jude giggling quietly to himself. His fingers kept exploring your face… then sliding underneath your shirt.

“Really?...That's too bad…I think you deserve two boyfriends. I’m Jude Bellingham, can I get your number?” Jude muttered again. This is going to be a long night taking care of drunk Jude. But fine, you can do this.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, sharp and unforgiving—directly onto Jude’s face. He groaned, a low, miserable sound escaping him as his head pounded like it was being split open with an axe. The hangover hit him full-force: dry mouth, nausea creeping at the edges of his stomach. His body was tangled awkwardly in the sheets—arm thrown over Sea's chest like he owned you while sleeping, one leg hooked over yours too. It wasn’t graceful or cute—just his usual disaster sleep position that always left both of them stuck to each other by morning no matter how they started out at night. Jude didn’t move yet though… not even when sunlight made his eyeballs throb worse. Too busy suffering silently and regretting every single shot from last night.

Jude shifted slightly—careful, even through the hangover haze—because he knew. You always took care of him like this. Without words, without being asked twice. You’d wake up first in the mornings after nights out and wordlessly fetch medicines you always pack with you, grab a glass of water… So Jude nudged you again with his forehead—a soft bump against your shoulder—half-conscious but intentional. It wasn’t demanding or whiny, just that quiet trust between you two where actions spoke louder than groggy apologies ever could.

“What is it…babe?” Your voice was rough with sleep—low and sleep-warm—and it made Jude’s chest tighten for a second, despite the pounding headache. He didn’t answer right away. Just blinked slowly at you through half-lidded eyes, the sunlight still hurting him but not enough to stop this quiet moment between you two.

Then he swallowed hard, his throat dry as hell and finally managed:

"My head hurts…" His words came out sluggish, quieter than usual. No dramatic whining—just stating facts like some pathetic drunk who’d learned his lesson last night but forgot immediately upon waking up today anyway. And then… almost shyly…He leaned forward slightly—not asking outright—but hinting that maybe water or medicine would help…if you wake up and take it for him.

“Mhmm…” you hummed. The bed creaked softly as you untangled yourself from Jude’s weight—careful not to jostle him too much—and sat up. No eye-roll, no sigh of annoyance. Just a quiet routine. The kind that had formed over months of this: you taking care of him after anything. You padded barefoot to your luggage, there’s a bag where you kept everything essential.

Then the mini fridge next—cold water poured into a glass, condensation forming on its surface as you carried both back toward the bedroom. Jude watched through hazy eyes… still curled under blankets like a guilty but hungover stray cat waiting for scraps. And here you came anyway…

Jude took the glass and pills slowly, fingers brushing against your palm—just a brief touch. He swallowed two painkillers with a sip of water, wincing at how even that small action hurt his head. Then he glanced over at you as you lay back down… eyes already closing again like sleep was pulling you under before you could fully wake up. His parents were expecting them both to arrive together by 7AM in the morning, it’s nearly 6AM right now.

That look crossed his face. The one you knew too well—half-lidded eyes, the way Jude’s gaze dropped briefly to your lips before flickering back up with quiet heat. Jude scooted closer on the bed without breaking eye contact—slowly now—as if asking permission without words. The early morning light still filtered through the curtains. But neither cared about time anymore…you took him to party at the club but yeah. He wanted more. And it’s not like you’re going to say no to his face.

“Gonna reward me for third place?” Jude smirked. Nothing new, really. The bed dipped under Jude’s weight as he closed the distance between you two, his movements smooth despite the lingering hangover fog.

“Yeah…you’re lucky I love you” you pinch the bridge of your nose. Because nobody asks for morning sex right in your face without saying good morning first. But you have an exception.

He dropped the lube and condom onto the mattress beside you—no teasing or slow buildup this time, just focused intent. His hands found your waist first, warm on your bare chest as he leaned closer.

Then his mouth crashed into yours—not rough, but hungry. A kiss that tasted like morning breath and regret of consuming too much alcohol. Jude didn’t speak—just kissed deeper while one hand roaming your body.

“You’re not tired?” You groaned against his mouth. Jude broke the kiss just enough to huff against your lips—annoyed you’d even ask that. Tired? Yeah, his head still pounded a little from last night’s drinking. His body felt heavy. But this? Morning sex with you? That was non-negotiable.

So he rolled his eyes, affectionately before diving back in, kissing you harder this time—all teeth and desperation. One of Jude’s hands slid up your chest while the other tangled roughly in your hair…

“Do you want me to start the day happy? Of course yes. So shut up and do me.” Jude huff, this can fix his hangover pain right now—he believes.

Jude didn’t hesitate—boxers already tossed aside, muscles flexing as he moved. When you grabbed the lube and squeezed some onto your finger, Jude’s breath hitched slightly—watching with darkening eyes. No teasing now, just quiet anticipation. He lay back against the pillows without being told, one arm stretched above his head while his other hand reached for you automatically—pulling you closer by your hip like a silent “come here.” The early morning light caught every scar and tan line on your skin…

The kiss was deep and slow—different from the frantic one earlier. Jude melted into it instantly—lips parting under yours with a soft sound—and then came the sensation of your finger pressing gently against him. He tensed for half a second, always did at first, but didn’t pull away. Just breathed through his nose and leaned deeper into the kiss… letting you work him open slowly.

Jude tilted his head to the side instinctively, giving you better access to his neck—his breath coming quicker now as your lips and teeth worked over that sensitive spot just below his ear. He loved this. Loved how precise you were—how you knew exactly where Jude liked it, how hard or soft to press… like muscle memory from months of intimacy. A quiet moan slipped out when your fingers curled just right inside him—a sound half-surprise, half-relief—and one of Jude’s hands fisted in the sheets beside him while the other gripped your shoulder.

Jude made a tiny, frustrated noise—actually whined—when your fingers left him when it was about to get good. He was right there, so close to that sweet tension-building pleasure… and then you pulled away to strip. His chest rose faster now, eyes tracking every movement as you peeled off your shirt, kicked out of sweatpants. Jude bit his lower lip unconsciously—equal parts impatient and turned on by the way you moved with quiet confidence.

But damn if it didn’t feel like forever while he just lay there bare already… watching you undress slowly in the morning light.

Jude’s gaze traveled over you—appreciating every defined line of your torso, the way your shoulders flexed slightly as you pulled off the last piece of clothing.

You weren’t just hot—you look like someone who could probably bench-press half your teammates without breaking a sweat. And Jude? He loved it. Loved how you looked right now—all lean muscle and confidence—and suddenly he was impatient again. No more waiting. So before you could even crawl back onto the bed properly, Jude reached out and yanked you down by a hand on your shoulder…

The kiss was feral—Jude’s lips crashed into yours with zero finesse, just raw need. Like he hadn’t kissed you in years instead of minutes. His hands immediately fisted in your hair, tilting your head to deepen it further while his tongue slid against yours—hot and demanding. Jude breathed through his nose between desperate kisses, chest rising fast as if oxygen didn’t matter nearly as much as this.

Jude exhaled sharply as the kiss broke—chest still heaving—but his eyes stayed locked on you while you grabbed the condom packet. Jude watched, lips slightly parted, as you stroked yourself—slow and deliberate—to get fully hard. The sight of him like this: naked, waiting, legs loosely bent clearly affected you too. His own stomach tightened with heat when he noticed the way your eyes darkened—how your breath hitched just a little at the view of Jude already open and ready for you. Then the rustle of foil as you rolled the condom down properly before shifting closer on your knees between his thighs. Jude exhaled shakily—anticipation coiling low in his belly.

The kiss was soft at first—just lips meeting, tender and lingering—but then you trailed down Jude’s jawline with his mouth, pressing warm kisses along the sensitive skin there. Jude shivered. By the time your lips reached that spot just below his ear—the crook of his neck where you knew he was extra sensitive—his breath hitched audibly.

And then came it: That first brush of your tip against him… tentative but deliberate. Jude tensed instinctively—not from fear or hesitation, but because anticipation always made him hold his breath like this.

Jude’s fingers dug into your back—nails grazing skin lightly but possessively—as you pushed deeper. Not rough enough to hurt, just… needing to hold on. Every slow inch sent sparks through his body, he bit down on his lower lip hard, trying not to make too much noise even though they were alone. His legs lifted slightly without thinking, knees bending to give you better access as the stretch filled him perfectly. No pain yet—just that delicious pressure of being connected like this after weeks of distance. Jude exhaled shakily through his nose… eyes fluttering shut for a second before reopening again—to watch you.

Jude’s breathing turned uneven—each roll of your hips sending waves of pleasure through him. He wasn’t tense anymore, his body had melted into the rhythm, adjusting perfectly to your pace like they’d done this a thousand times, because they basically had. A quiet moan escaped Jude as you hit that spot inside him—the one that always made his toes curl—and his hand slid from your back up to tangle in your hair instead. Not pulling, just… holding on.

His arousal was obvious—chest flushed, lips parted with little gasps.

Jude’s gaze was locked onto yours—dark, unfocused with pleasure—as he watched the way your cock disappeared and reappeared inside him. The visual of it alone was filthy—the glisten of sweat on your skin, the rhythmic snap of hips meeting his body—and it sent heat straight to his core. He couldn’t look away. Every thrust made a soft sound between you two—the slap of skin, Jude’s hitched breaths.

His eyes can’t stop tracing every detail—hungry—as you move above him. The sharp V-line of your stomach, the faint trail of hair leading downward… all leading to that cock, thick and relentless as it hammered into him with increasing roughness. He loved this view. Loved how effortlessly strong you looked right now—muscles flexing with each thrust, sweat glistening on your shoulders—and how completely focused you were on pleasuring him. No teasing slowdowns anymore, just pure, unfiltered fucking that had Jude’s head spinning and his hips lifting instinctively to meet yours.

Jude’s curses were breathless—mumbled against his own shoulder or the pillow when they slipped out, too overwhelmed to care about volume. “Fuck—” Each one punched out between gasps as you got rougher, hips snapping harder now with that athlete’s strength. His nails raked lightly down your back— A reflex, his body craving more friction even while being completely dominated by your rhythm. The bed creaked softly beneath them… morning light still painting everything gold around their tangled bodies.

The rhythmic thud-thud of the headboard slamming against the wall echoed through the bedroom—each sharp impact syncing with your punishing pace. Jude barely noticed it over his own ragged breathing and moans.

The creaking wood blended into their sounds—the slap of skin, Jude’s bitten-off whimpers when a particularly deep thrust hit just right, your quiet grunts as you worked him open relentlessly.

Jude hated how effortlessly you could pin him—how one large hand easily trapped both of his wrists above his head, holding them there with zero struggle. It was infuriating… and hot as hell. Being smaller and leaner than you meant he’d never been manhandled like this by anyone else—no other guy had the strength or size to just… restrain him so completely during sex.

And right now? You weren't even trying, it came naturally—the way your fingers curled around his wrists, keeping them in place while your hips kept driving into him. No chance to squirm away if Jude wanted to.

Jude was already breathless, sweaty—his body thrumming with pleasure—but you showed no signs of slowing down. That fucking stamina. Your endurance wasn’t a joke. Just endless thrusts that made Jude’s thighs tremble slightly from the constant stimulation… his earlier frustration at being pinned long forgotten under waves of sensation.

Jude’s climax hit him like a freight train—sudden and overwhelming. One second he was gasping, body strung tight with pleasure… The next, his back arched slightly off the mattress as he came untouched, stripes of white landing messily across his stomach. His toes curled into the sheets, muscles tensed for a heartbeat before melting into blissful aftershocks. Pinned beneath your weight and strength? Yeah—that did it. The combination of being dominated physically and mentally pushed him over too fast. Now he just lay there dazed… catching his breath while you kept going above him.

The shift was immediate—you released Jude’s wrists, instead bracing your arms on either side of Jude’s head as you leaned down to kiss him. It wasn’t rough or demanding, it was loving. Soft lips meeting softly, a tender contrast to the brutal pace of your hips still hammering into him. Each deep thrust punched another moan out of Jude—his body overstimulated but not wanting it to stop. The kiss swallowed most of those sounds… just quiet whimpers against your mouth now. This relentless fucking wrapped in affection—the kind only they could balance like this.

The sensation of your teeth on his neck—gentle but possessive—sent a shiver through Jude just as he felt the hitch in your rhythm. Then came those last few deep, grinding thrusts… all the way in, holding there as you came with a low groan muffled against his skin. Jude gasped quietly at the sudden fullness—the warmth between them—as you stayed pressed together like that for a long moment.

The kiss was lazy now—soft, almost drowsy after the intensity of what just happened. You pressed your lips to Jude’s gently, a quiet “mhmm” humming against them before slowly pulling away.

Then you carefully withdrew, moving with deliberate slowness to avoid discomfort for either of them. The room was thick with the scent of sex and their mingled sweat—but neither seemed bothered by it. You rolled onto your side next to Jude…

“Let’s take a shower, starfish” you chuckled at Jude’s laying position after resting for a while. Jude cracked an eye open at the nickname—starfish—and scoffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. If anything, he found it kinda cute how you came up with weird pet names for him.

"Shower sounds good," Jude mumbled, stretching his arms above his head before sitting up slowly. His body ached pleasantly—the kind of soreness that reminded you of exactly what happened this morning.

You took the driver’s seat without question—Jude never drove anyway. He doesn't even have a license yet, his mom has always picked him up or Jude just relied on teammates or now, you for rides. The car ride was quiet but not tense—just the hum of the engine and Jude watching whatever on his phone. They pulled into Jude's neighborhood, familiar streets leading to his house… The place looked fancy as ever: manicured lawn, curtains in the windows slightly open like someone was peeking out. Jude swallowed hard. First time bringing a boyfriend here.

You noticed Jude’s glance—silent but asking for reassurance—and without a word, you leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. No pressure in it. Just warmth… something soft to ground him before facing his family. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before you pulled back, thumb brushing lightly over Jude’s cheekbone as if saying “you got this” without words. Then you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the car—rounding to open Jude's door for him like an automatic gesture by now.

The warm smell of breakfast hit them as soon as they stepped inside—Jude’s mom stood at the stove in a colorful headwrap and long apron, stirring a pot with focused energy. At the table sat Jobe—his younger brother, already scrolling on his phone while waiting for food. They both turned when Jude walked in… followed closely by you.

Jobe blinked once. Then twice. Oh. His eyes darted between them—the way Jude subtly leaned into your side—Jobe knew. His smirk widened—so obvious—and he muffled a snort into his palm when Jude glared at him.

Meanwhile, their mom turned around from the stove, wooden spoon in hand… and her face instantly lit up.

"Jude!" she exclaimed in that rich, warm voice of hers—all love and no hesitation as she immediately opened her arms for a hug.

You stayed where he was for half a second… suddenly aware this was the moment. First meeting his girlfriend's parents. Except… it wasn't just any girlfriend here, it was him.

Jude practically launched himself into his mom’s arms—hugging her tightly. She hugged him back just as fiercely, rocking slightly while squeezing him. The scent of spices and her floral perfume wrapped around them. Then she pulled back, cupping Jude's face with both hands to look at him properly—eyes soft but scanning for any changes.

Only then did she notice you standing nearby… quiet and respectful near the doorway. Her gaze shifted to you—and immediately softened even more.

Mrs. Bellingham didn’t hesitate—she pulled you into a hug just as warm and tight as the one she’d given Jude. Just motherly love extended to you like you were already family—which, in her mind, you basically were.

She squeezed you gently, patting your back twice before releasing you… then immediately cupped your face with both hands—studying it closely like she always did. You have grown into a handsome gentleman, not the same 10 years old kid carrying her Jude home after he hurted his ankle during a football match.

Jude took a deep breath—suddenly nervous despite knowing his family liked you.

They’d all known you for years, you’d come over for holidays, eaten meals at their table, even helped Jobe with homework. But now? The relationship status was officially boyfriend. So Jude cleared his throat slightly and said—calm but firm:

"Ma…uhm Y/N. He’s my boyfriend." The words hung in the air—just stating it plainly like that was how things were now…

Mrs. Bellingham’s eyebrows shot up, her spoon still hovering mid-air like she’d frozen in place.

"What?" she repeated—voice higher than usual with surprise. "When was this?" She turned fully toward them now, eyes darting between Jude and you as if expecting one of them to laugh and say “just kidding!” But no.

Meanwhile, Jobe bit his lip hard—trying not to grin like an idiot because this reaction from his mom was gold. His dad remained silent for a beat… just absorbing the news calmly from where he stood near the fridge.

Your voice was calm as you answered honestly.

"Last summer, Mrs. Bellingham."

His mom blinked rapidly, spoon now clutched in both hands as her brain recalculated. Last summer meant… they'd been dating for nearly a year without telling her?

Jude stepped forward immediately. "Mom… I’m sorry." he said, voice softer than usual—genuine regret lacing his words. "We didn’t mean to hide it from you guys… we just—we weren’t sure how you’d react."

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. The truth was? They had talked about telling their parents eventually—but Jude had been nervous, worried about how conservative some relatives might be… so they waited. Now that silence felt heavy in hindsight.

Mrs. Bellingham turned off the stove with a quiet click, wiping her hands on her apron before exhaling slowly—like she was organizing her thoughts.

Then she spoke, calm but firm: "I’m not mad… just surprised." She looked between them again—not angry, not disappointed… more processing.

"Y’all have been friends for how long? And now you’re dating?" A small frown creased her brow—not in disapproval of you yourself she clearly adored you, but at the idea that they’d kept this from them for so long.

Your voice was steady—earnest and sincere as you spoke directly to Mrs. Bellingham, meeting her eyes without flinching.

"I love Jude genuinely, Mrs. Bellingham," you said, the weight of your words clear in every syllable. Then added: "And I promise… I’ll take care of him."

Mrs. Bellingham exhaled again—long and slow, like she was letting go of a mental image she’d carried for years. She had always pictured Jude bringing home a nice girl someday… someone who’d make him happy, who he could settle down with. A future daughter-in-law she could fuss over, teach recipes to… maybe even grandbabies eventually. Now? That vision shifted completely—but not in the way most people would expect. Her expression softened further as she studied you—the man her son loved so openly—and something clicked into place for her…

Mrs. Bellingham’s face softened completely—any lingering surprise melting into quiet acceptance.

“As long as Jude is happy, then I’m happy. You’re welcome here."

Then she smiled at them both… and declared:

"Breakfast is ready.”

Jude’s eyes widened slightly—genuinely surprised—as he watched his mom’s calm reaction and then casually announce breakfast like this was the most normal thing in the world. He’d braced for harsher questions. Maybe even mild disappointment or confusion from her… not instant acceptance.

But there she was: already turning back to the stove, plating food with that same loving focus she always had—now including you as part of their family meal without missing a beat. Jobe, meanwhile, smirked into his orange juice at Jude’s stunned expression. Yeah… Mom liked you. If it has to be a man, she’s glad it was you.

Now that she knew about their relationship, everything made sense: Why Jude relied on her less, How he’d suddenly started planning weekends away—always with you, The way his mood improved whenever his phone buzzed.

She studied Jude carefully over her tea cup… then asked gently: "So… how did this even start?”

Jude set his fork down, the sausage now tasting like cardboard in his mouth as he gathered his thoughts. It had been that one fight—the explosive argument after you announced you were leaving Real Madrid to join Manchester City. The tension between them had been unbearable… until it all snapped.

"We argued" Jude started, voice quieter than usual. "After Y/N said he’s leaving I lost it.” He glanced at you briefly—no anger there anymore, just history hanging in the air between bites of breakfast…

He swallowed hard. "It was during that time I… figured out that I liked him. Everything felt empty without him so I decided to confess. And Y/N said yes." he admitted quietly to you across the table—words he’d never said aloud until now…

Mrs. Bellingham took a sip of her tea, then—ever the master of subtle interrogation—shifted gears entirely with a new question.

"So," she began casually, setting her cup down "when are you two moving in together?"

Just straight to housing plans like it was the most obvious next step in their relationship. Jude nearly choked on his orange juice… while you blinked once, caught off guard by how quickly she’d jumped from emotions to logistics…

Jude cleared his throat, setting his glass down carefully.

"Uh… it’s complicated," he admitted with a slight shrug. "Y/N is in England now—Manchester City—and I’m still here with Real Madrid." The distance wasn’t something they could ignore: time zones, busy schedules, only seeing each other during breaks or quick flights between matches. He glanced at you briefly—both of them knew long-distance wasn't ideal… but they also weren’t ready to end things just because of geography yet…

Mrs. Bellingham’s face brightened immediately—like Christmas had come early after you explained your plan.

Oh. So they were planning to be together long-term after all. She smiled, a real one this time, and took another sip of her tea as you explained your plan: finishing your Manchester City contract before potentially returning to Spain… possibly joining Real Madrid again if the opportunity arose.

Jobe whistled under his breath at that level of commitment…

Mr. Bellingham—who had been quietly observing this whole conversation from the head of the table—finally spoke up, his deep voice calm but laced with genuine curiosity.

"Wait," he said, setting down his fork. "You’re really considering leaving Man City… for him?" He studied you carefully—not skeptically, just trying to understand how serious that commitment was. Giving up a top club like Manchester City wasn’t something athletes did lightly… unless their partner meant everything.

You didn’t even pause. "Yes, sir." You answered immediately—voice firm, eyes steady on Mr. Bellingham’s without a single flicker of doubt. Just absolute certainty that yes, you would give up your current club if it meant being with Jude full-time… career implications be damned. The room went quiet for a beat—even Jobe stopped chewing his toast to watch the exchange…

Mr. Bellingham leaned back slightly, still studying you like a puzzle he was trying to solve—but now with a glint of respect forming in his gaze.

"Alright," he said after another sip of coffee. "So if you move back… where would you two live?" No beating around the bush—he wanted details about how this actually played out logistically…

You answered calmly, keeping your tone respectful but confident. "I’m planning to buy a house here in Madrid, sir." you said—already having researched properties discreetly for months now.

Mrs. Bellingham suddenly clapped her hands together—excited—like she’d just mentally decorated the entire estate already.

"Oh! A house here in Madrid?" She glanced at Jude, eyes sparkling with approval. "That’s perfect." No more long-distance calls. No more counting hours until they could see each other again. Just… home. Together.

Jobe kicked Jude under the table subtly—grinning like an idiot because his brother had bagged someone serious. A silent “You got a whole man who would buy you a house. Congrats” in his teasing gaze.

Jude shot Jobe a half-hearted glare—stop grinning like that—but he couldn’t deny the truth in it.

You were a full package: loyal, devoted, strong… and now willing to uproot your entire career for him? That wasn’t just luck—that was love. His chest warmed at the thought. Meanwhile, Mrs. Bellingham kept smiling to herself while clearing plates—already imagining Sunday dinners with them both living nearby…

After breakfast, you stood up—insisting on helping Jude’s mother with the dishes.

You rolled up your sleeves and started washing plates at the sink while chatting with Mr. Bellingham the local farms in Norway—the simplicity of it, early mornings milking cows, how hard work was just part of life. Mrs. Bellingham listened eagerly from her chair… then perked up when you mentioned cooking.

"Oh! You cook too?" she asked warmly.

“Yes ma’am. I’m a fast learner” you say with a faint smile.

Mrs. Bellingham’s eyebrows shot up. "Wow" she breathed out—genuinely impressed by how versatile you were. Meanwhile, Jude smirked into his cup… remembering all those times you had surprised him with homemade meals even though you two were very busy training.

You flashed that charming smile—the one—soft and genuine as you turned slightly toward Mrs. Bellingham, still drying your hands on a towel.

"I'll take care of dinner tonight, if you let me." You offered… not in a boastful way, but like someone genuinely wanting to contribute.

Mr. Bellingham gave him an approving nod, any man who offered to help with meals was already winning points…

The living room buzzed with life—Jude’s cousins, both older and younger than him had arrived, along with his nephew, a hyperactive 5-year-old who immediately latched onto Jobe. Laughing kids ran around while the adults chatted in clusters: Jude's aunts gossiping over tea, uncles debating football… and you still comfortably holding court with Mr. Bellingham about agriculture.

Meanwhile, Jude sat on the couch sandwiched between two cousins—one teasing him about finally bringing a boyfriend home after years of being single…

The little nephew plopped himself right onto Jude’s lap like it was his royal throne, tiny legs swinging as he munched on a cookie. Meanwhile, the cousins bombarded Jude with rapid-fire questions—way too excited about his new relationship status:

"Is Y/N really that tall?"

"How did you two get together?"

"Do you guys kiss all the time now? Eww!" one cousin teased dramatically. Jude chuckled at their nosiness… but answered patiently between sips of iced water while balancing the kid in his arms…

Jude watched the chaos around him—the laughter, the sibling bickering, his little nephew now trying to touch his hair—with quiet warmth. Even though he was dating a man… this? A big, loving family with kids running around someday? That future still felt right to him. He’d always imagined having children one day—maybe not through traditional means—adoption or surrogacy, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was love… and building something like this.

His gaze flickered toward you across the room for just a second—imagining it all together…

You moved calmly through the buzzling market, thinking of what to cook while two little voices bombarded him with endless chatter—Jude’s cousins insisted on going to the market to shop for ingredients with the two.

"Can we get those chips?"

"Why are you buying so many onions?"

"Is that for cooking? You’re gonna cook dinner? Cool!"

They bounced around your legs like hyperactive puppies, occasionally grabbing items from the rack randomly—only to be gently redirected by Jude.

You balanced the grocery bags effortlessly in two hands—strong from years of training and carrying equipment—but still made space for Jude. Without a word, you stuck out your pinkie, for Jude’s hand to hold… which they did naturally, fingers linking as they walked through the parking lot. Then—because he couldn’t help it—Jude leaned down and kissed you quickly on the lips right there.

The cousins gagged dramatically:

"EWWWW! GROSS! GET A ROOM UNC!!!" they yelled, waving their tiny hands.

Jude shot his cousins a playful glare, still holding your single free finger.

"One day you will have someone you kiss all the time," Jude said matter-of-factly—like it was an inevitable law of life. "So get used to it now." The kids scrunched their noses in protest but didn’t argue further…you chuckled under your breath at Jude’s parenting skills—effortlessly shutting down their dramatics with logic…

Jude let out a soft, content hum—warm breath brushing against your neck as his hands wandered under the fabric of your shirt, fingertips tracing lazy patterns over toned abs. He was perfectly happy like this: holding you from behind while watching you cook with that focused intensity… the way muscles flexed in your arms as you stirred pots.

Without thinking, Jude murmured against you:

"You look really sexy doing domestic stuff." The compliment slipped out naturally—genuine admiration laced in every word….

Mrs. Bellingham observed them from the kitchen doorway… and her expression softened into something tender and happy. Not just because of their relationship—but how right it felt seeing them together like this…

The dining room filled with the sound of chairs scraping and lively chatter as fifteen people—Jude’s entire extended family—settled around the long table. Aunts, uncles, cousins young and old… sitting at the head with a proud smile. The aroma of your cooking had everyone eager. Mrs. Bellingham took her seat beside Mr. Bellingham while Jobe plopped down next to his giggling cousins—the ones who’d called Jude and you "gross" earlier for kissing now eyeing their plates hungrily….

"When’s the wedding?" one aunt joked, grinning into her wine glass.

"Yeah! You two look like you’ve been married for years already." another added.

An aunt leaned over and squeezed Mrs. Bellingham’s arm:

"Y/N? He cooks like this? Ohhh he’s a keeper."

Jude smirked but didn’t deny any of it—his hand resting casually on your thigh under the table…

Mrs. Bellingham shot the aunt a light huff—half-laughing, half-defensive—as she waved her hand dismissively.

"Don’t pressure the kids!" she said warmly but firmly, shaking her head like calm down! She knew they were just excited… but marriage wasn't even on tonight's agenda, though you cooking this well definitely didn't hurt your case.

When it was time to leave, Jude stood up and gave his mom a quick hug—"I’ll be back tomorrow, just have some business to handle." He said smoothly, not a lie…serious business with…you. Mrs. Bellingham raised an eyebrow but didn’t question him, just kissing his cheek before shooing them off.

You grabbed the car keys without a word—used to Jude’s impulsive decisions—and followed as Jude gently tugged you toward the front door by their linked hands…

You paused with the car door open, turning to Jude—genuine question in your eyes.

"Why? We can stay if you want." You said softly, not assuming anything. Maybe Jude had other plans… maybe he just wanted to get away from family for a bit…

Jude didn’t answer with words—just that sly smirk you knew too well.

"You know exactly why." He said. Jude leaned in and kissed you right there by the car—quick but heated—a silent promise of what was coming once they got to the hotel. Then he pulled back just enough to slide into the passenger seat… leaving you standing there for a second, processing how obvious Jude’s intentions were…

The second you parked the car, Jude was out of the passenger seat—eager. He grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the hotel entrance, practically speed-walking like he couldn’t wait another second. You laughed under your breath at Jude's impatience but matched his energy… both of them brushing past late-night guests in the lobby without breaking stride…

The second the hotel room door clicked shut, Jude crashed into you—lips meeting in a hungry kiss as his hands immediately went to work—fingers fumbling with your belt buckle while their mouths moved together messily, breaths mingling in the small space between them. You let out a quiet sound against Jude’s lips—half-laugh, half-moan—as they backed toward the nearest wall without breaking contact…

Jude crowding you, all urgency and possessive gratitude. The belt clattered to the floor, forgotten. Zippers came next—Jude undoing your pants with quick fingers, his own breathing uneven. Every second of you cooking for his family today… serving them perfectly… had Jude wired. He didn’t care if you were tired. This wasn't about fatigue. It was about reward—about showing appreciation in the most intimate way possible…

Jude’s teeth scraped lightly over your neck—claiming, marking you up without hesitation—as he pushed the fabric of your pants down past your hips. Each nip and kiss was deliberate, a mix of affection and appreciation. A reward for the hours you spent cooking, for being so damn perfect with Jude’s family today… No words beyond that whispered "This is a reward." before Jude sealed their mouths together again—hungry, insistent…

Your faint smirk stayed in place as Jude dropped to his knees without hesitation—determined. The cool air hit your skin briefly before Jude tugged your boxers down, revealing everything beneath. No further teasing buildup, just Jude looking up at him with dark, focused eyes… like this was the only thing he wanted right now.

Jude’s expression was painfully open—eyes full of love, no teasing left in them. Just pure, overwhelming adoration as he gazed up at you from his knees. There was no hiding it. Jude leaned forward and pressed an achingly tender kiss… right where it mattered most.

Your breath hitched—sharp—as Jude dragged a slow, searing lick up your length, the heat of it making your hips twitch instinctively. Then came those soft kisses—teasingly light at first… testing… before growing bolder with each press of Jude’s lips.

Jude’s tongue curled around the sensitive tip, swirling with deliberate precision—before his teeth gently grazed it. A teasing nibble. Not enough to hurt… just enough to send a jolt straight through your nerves, making your fingers around his cheeks shiver. You just put it there.

Jude hummed quietly at the reaction—loving how responsive you were tonight…

Your mutter came out strained—”God, Jude—” as that soft, kitten-lick brush of his tongue sent another wave of pleasure through you. Then Jude took you properly into his mouth… warm, wet and perfect, the suction just right. A broken groan escaped you this time, feeling a burn coil at your stomach as you braced one hand against the wall to stay upright…

Your breath came unevenly—by the sight of Jude on his knees, moving with quiet devotion. Every bob of Jude’s head sent heat coiling low in your stomach… the warmth, the wetness, Jude's throat fluttering around your cock—it was intoxicating.

The sensation hit Jude’s throat—just the tip brushing there—and for a second, his reflexes kicked in with a small gag. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he swallowed around it, forcing himself to relax as his lips stayed sealed tight… determined to keep going despite the brief discomfort. You felt every flutter of Jude’s throat around your length—the effort and devotion in it making your pulse spike…

Your moan slipped out—low and rough—as Jude’s throat flexed around you again, the tight heat overwhelming for a split second before Jude pulled back just enough to reset. Then he dove right back in, rhythm steady now—bobbing his head with focused enthusiasm, taking you deeper each time like he was on a mission. Just pure dedication to making this good.

Your moan spilled out louder this time—”Oh fuck—Jude!” as those strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place. Just Jude controlling the pace, making sure you felt every second of this slow burn… even though the pleasure was building too fast, too intense—threatening to tip you over the edge already…

Your breath hitched—gasped—when Jude’s nose brushed against your skin, taking your cock all the way in each bob, that tiny sensory spark tipping you over the edge. A shuddering climax ripped through you, waves of pleasure crashing in seconds as you came right then… still braced against the wall with Jude between your legs.

Jude kept moving—gentle, rhythmic bobs of his head even after you had come—milking every last pulse of pleasure from you. Just tenderness… letting you ride it out fully while Jude kissed and nuzzled along your thighs afterward like a kitten, easing the intensity down gradually.

Jude swallowed without a single grimace—cleaning up completely like it was nothing—before pressing soft, lingering kisses to your muscular thighs. The gestures were soothing… grounding. A way to calm you down after the intensity, his lips brushing over warm skin in quiet affection.

Jude stood slowly, still warm from being on his knees—and without hesitation, he kissed you deeply. It was a slow, sweet kiss… letting you taste yourself on Jude’s tongue—hint of salty, mildly sweet and intimate and undeniably them.

Jude studied your dazed expression—the slightly glazed eyes, the soft exhale still lingering from his lips—and smirked. Adorable. He couldn’t help it. Reaching up, Jude brushed a thumb over your cheekbone before leaning in to kiss you again—softer this time… almost playful after all that intensity…

Jude’s eyes flicked toward the bed—subtle, but loaded—before sliding back to you with a look that was pure mischief. Jude stepped closer, hands already reaching for your waist to guide you backward… That gaze said everything:

You wish you knew how wrong you were.

Sure, at first no big reaction came from him when you started teasing him. Giving him some playful flirting, some touches, poking his sides, fake moaning when he was in a call, the classics.

Then what happened for you to realize you may have crossed a line, stepping into an unknown world you shouldn't probably have discovered?

Easy, the moment you playfully put peanut butter on the corner of your mouth and teasingly winked at Bucky, asking him if he was going to clean it for you. And he did, by taking the peanut butter on his thumb, then fucking sucking clean that said thumb while holding eye contact with you. That should have been enough for you to know this stopped being a game between you two.

In a matter of days, not even weeks, Bucky came back to you with teasings when you stopped giving him the attention you used to give.

"Where's my morning kiss?"

"No pretty words for today?"

"Don't wanna grab my hand anymore?"

"Cat got your tongue?"

Oh how the table has turned. It was you who was feeling flustered now, not him, even though you never saw him blush or shy away with your teasings.

He was the one looking for you, not the other way around. As the weeks passed, the touches became more... personal.

You were cooking dinner for yourself in the kitchen, no one else was around, or that's what you thought. You didn't even hear Bucky step closer to you from behind, until two firm hands grabbed your chest under your shirt.

"Ah!" You jumped, startled and blushing profoundly.

A playful chuckle was heard from behind you, before Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder. "Ticklish?"

"Wh- Bucky, the fuck!?" His hands wouldn't leave your chest, it was the opposite, he wouldn't stop massaging your pecs and pressing on them. You could feel your cheeks grow warmer and redder while embarrassment flooded you. By pure instinct you bit your lip to silence any embarrassing sound that might come out. Why though?

Bucky didn't stop, and by accident, one of his fingers brushed your nipple.

"Nghhuhnn...!"

Silence.

Your eyes opened wide once you realized what the fuck came out of your mouth.

Bucky was also surprised, completely taken aback, until a dirty smirk grew on his lips. "My, oh my, I didn't expect that from you, you little tease." His fingers brushed your nipples again, and you tensed while holding back a moan. Bucky was enjoying it, while you were going through conflicting feelings in your mind.

His fingers poked gently your sensitive nipples, and you had to put all of your strenght on your body and on holding back your voice. It felt strangely good, thing that you wouldn't ever admit.

After a long two minutes, Bucky finally released your chest and removed his hands from under your shirt.

You turned around and saw Bucky leaving that smirk still on him.

"Wh- wait where are you going?" you asked, confused.

"I have to prepare for my upcoming mission," he said, waving a hand at you and leaving you alone and confused in the kitchen.

Since then, the amount of teasings you were receiving from Bucky increased significantly.

A spanking there, a hot whisper here, and lots of winks.

You noticed how Bucky only acted that way with you, with the other members of the team, he was his usual grumpy introverted self. So you had to step up your game, there was no way you'd let him win. So you came back at him, matching his game. You squeezed his ass without him expecting it, you cat called him even though you were standing on the other side of the room, just to watch him blush. You went further than him, and playfully kissed his cheek when he was talking with Sam.

People in the team called what you have a "bromance", and you grew to like it, because it meant everything was just fun and games. Unexpected, but not uninvited.

Bucky didn't seem to mind as well, as he matched you too, kissing your hand, cheek, sometimes even back of the neck. Everyone else would mistake you for a gay couple, funny enough, it did happen before.

And without you realizing it, you were on each other almost all the time, even after you two shared a kiss for the first time.

"Hmmph..." Bucky moaned as he was pushed on the couch of the common room with you standing between his legs and your lips on his. His arms were wrapped around your neck, deepening the hungry kiss.

You started to grind your hips against his crotch to make the situation funnier, and Bucky answered back by grinding against you as well, to make it even funnier.

The kiss came to an end, and you were trying to catch some air in your lungs. "Damn, I bet you'd wanna ride my dick, huh?" you teased.

Bucky chuckled. "And I bet you'd wanna see me ride your dick, huh?" he teased back.

This was just games and laughes for you, a strong bromance that you two shared, nothing more.

The ex-assassin moved his hands under your shirt and playfully pulled on your nipples, stealing a gasp from you.

"A-ah! Bucky! S-stop it!" you said with a trembling voice, your cheeks turning red.

Bucky giggled at the sight and poked your nipples some more, feeling how they slowly got erect between his fingers. He loved seeing you blush, he loved making you moan, it was so cute.

"Gonna tell me you don't like it?" he asked in between giggles.

"I- hmmph! I don't..." You were lying, you knew it, it felt good, strangely and annoyingly good, but you were not going to admit that.

Once again, Bucky released your nipples and moved his hands away from you when he heard Steve calling him. You moved to a side to let him stand up from the couch and he made his way towards the meeting room.

"See you, Y|n" he said before leaving your sights.

The common room was oddly quiet tonight, everyone had a date, which was surprising. You enjoyed the silence with a good hour of lecture, keeping the fireplace on and some ambient music at low volume.

Bucky was really good at sneaking from behind you, as you didn't notice him until he shoved his hands under your shirt from behind, making you yelp and throw your book on the floor.

"Ahn! Fuck!" you cursed out loud as his fingers pinched your nipples and slowly twisted them.

"Thought you'd have the place for yourself?" asked mockingly Bucky as he kept playing with your sensitive nips. He lowered down to kiss your neck and bite gently the shell of your ear, before releasing your chest to go sit on your lap, getting better access to your chest. Bucky removed your shirt and his and went back to tease your nipples. "They're growing so hard already..."

You couldn't keep your mind straight, your back arching, leaning closer to the touch unconciously. "Bucky... fuck... stop it, I don't like it..." you whined.

The corner of Bucky's lips curled into a dirty smirk, he started grinding on your crotch. "What is it? Can't admit that you like it? Afraid to admit it?" Him and his fucking teasings. You decided to fight back and grabbed his crotch on one hand, squeezing his covered cock firmly.

Bucky threw his head back as he moaned, grinding faster and more urgently.

"Like having men touching your dick?" you teased.

"Like having men touching your nips?" he bit back.

"Hey-! I.. ah... I don't..." Lies again.

Bucky knew better. "I bet you're gonna like this too!" You didn't expect him to lick your nipple so lewdly, the tip of his tongue teasing your areola slowly before wrapping his lips around the sensitive nub.

Your cock jumped under your pants, and you could feel how Bucky's cock did the same from the way you moaned.

Curses, you cursed the way it felt so good to have his mouth on your nipple.

"Mo-...!" More. That's what you were about to say, but thankfully, you bit your lip before it escaped your mouth.

Bucky didn't seem to have noticed it, too busy sucking on your nipples the one after the other, and grinding his ass on your dick while you palmed his. His teeth pulled gently on the soft flesh, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. "I love your nipples..." he whispered, yet you heard him clearly. You whimpered as he sucked hader and twisted harder the other nipple with his hand.

None of you noticed when the door opened, Tony and his date have come and concluded their night. However, they stopped dryly when they saw both men kissing eachother on the couch of the common room, too lost on... whatever they were doing.

Tony cleared his throat and Bucky pulled back from you to glare at him.

"Yes?" he asked, leaning closer to you as he supported himself on the couch, both arms of his on each side of your head. His whole body almost completely covered your smaller sized one, which you found completely hot as you had the perfect view of his perfect torso.

Tony signaled you two with his hand. "Can you guys not fuck in public, you two have dorms for something. Go fuck your boyfriend elsewhere."

Boyfriend.

Why did that sound so strange?

Bucky rolled his eyes in annoyance before getting off of you. "Come, I'm not done with you." He winked at you and grabbed your hand before dragging you to his bedroom. "And we're not boyfriends, Tony! This is just... a bromance, or whatever you called it last day."

Yeah, it was just a bromance.

But both of you didn't want to keep it that way for too long.

Is it still bromance if you think about fucking your bro almost every night as he keeps sucking on your nipple?

_______________________

❣ Cockdrunk!Varka who, in an attempt to don't bother you so much ended up buying a lot of toys to play with himself, wich not only didn't help but also made him more horny because no of his toys can truly compare to the real thing, no matter how much he stuff himself and how much he abuses of his hole he is still too needy of you

❣ Cockdrunk!Varka who pushed himself to the edge, accidentally bringing himself to be even more horny, feeling so needy that he started to go to work with his hole stuffed with toys, barely discreet enough so no one would notice and having to fight back the tingling feeling and arouse that the tricky movements in battle do with his toy, making him more aware and more aggresive in battle all because he has to focus all his attention on something else than the inmese need of moaning or the way his cock has started to twitch, having to hold back himself from reacting in any way despite feeling himself already trying to chase after that momentarely pleasure

❣ Cockdrunk!Varka who grows so addicted to you that even when you two doesn't have time he still finds the way to sneak away from work and dragg you with him, that even if you two are incredibly busy he still manage to make some little time to dragg you somewhere private, who has grown so addicted to your cock that simply can't live without it, being able to conform himself with sneaking away with you to take you in his mouth, to dutifully work on you and savour the bitter flavor of your precum, so drunked by you that even his hips start moving a bit while sucking you, feeling like in heaven just by the fact that his senses are completely overwhelmed by you and the toy stuffed in his hole, dutifully taking you until you finally reach your release, making sure to don't let a single drop of your cum to go to waste

❣ Cockdrunk!Varka who feels like he has been blessed whenever he finally gets to be used by you, either be a quickie or a full marathon sex he will take it and greedly, his hole already ready to take you in for being playing with himself in your absence and already clenching around even when only the tip is inside, a load moan coming out of his lips because godamit how much he has been waiting for this moment, the wait has been almost tortuous and just by having you inside, even before you start moving he is already trembling

❣ Cockdrunk!Varka who is complete obsessed with watching the way you are completely abusing his hole, who's eyes glue to the way your hips hit him, watching your cock apear and disapear inside of him and making his own cock bounce with each thrust, pitifuly neglected and yet dripping, covering his torso with with his own cum and but not ready to stop anytime soon, his eyes almost never leave the blissfuly obsene sight unless you force him to, either by pushing his head against the mattress or the wall, when you bend down to kiss him and muffle his whines and moans against your lips or when his mind simply can't take it anymore, completely broken and unable to focus, left to move out of instinct because it is too much but he is not ready to stop

❣ Cockdrunk!Varka who will happily lay down or ride you, he doesn't mind if you decide to take him in the comfort of the bed, bend him down in the table or even push him against the wall, as long as you keep thrusting on him, as long as your cock doesn't leave him anytime soon, as long as you fuck him until he becomes a complete mess and his mind can't barely process what it is going on but his hips keep chaising after you, as long as you fill him completely over and over again he doesn't care about anything else