THE BADDEST BITCHES AIN'T IN LA ★ ⌞SERIES MASTERLIST⌝
★ PAIRING: jude bellingham x eastern european!reader
★ GENRE: university au, smau, enemies to lovers, slow burn, academic rivalry, banter-heavy, interslavic used in some dialogues (please see each chapter's individual warnings for a complete list)
★ SYNOPSIS: moving to London for your master’s meant keeping your head down, securing your visa, and completely ignoring breezy british guys like jude bellingham. but when one stray football sends your laptop crashing to the floor seconds before module registration, your carefully calculated life goes up in flames — and the guy responsible is standing there acting like it’s no big deal.
★ STARRING:
─── ✘ eastern european!reader: overworked, stressing over visa status, strict deadlines, and actually needing this degree to stay in the country, armed with a cold glare and zero patience for spoiled british boys who treat life like a game.
─── ✘ jude bellingham: handsome, ridiculously charming, and coasting through his degree on pure charisma. he’s used to everyone falling for his smile, which makes the terrifying girl in the atrium his ultimate challenge.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Note: First of.. I must apologize if I offend anyone! I'm not familiar with Slavic culture since I'm German and grew up in Germany. So.. If anything is wrong or stereotypical.. Please tell me! Also I've decided to make it more of a Russian reader than anything.
This was requested by @pyr0t3chn1cmp3
Masterlist
Read before requesting
SFW
Luis met you during his time at university. You were also studying biology, sitting a few rows away. He didn't notice you at first just as you didn't notice him.
The first time he noticed you was when some guy was harassing you. Luis was about to step in when you kicked the guy in the balls, cursing in some language he didn't understand.
Luis was madly in love ever since.
Every time you entered the room you had your lecture in, he was already imagining going over to you to introduce himself. Luis Serra was THE ladies man, so why was he nervous when it came to you?
From what he heard you weren't from around here, that accent making it obviously clear. You sounded like a Russian or even Polish gal, which he usually wasn't as attracted to. You were an exception.
The first time you both were forced to interact was when you were assigned to take apart a frog, which you didn't seem to mind as much as Luis. He's always been the gentle type, even if he wasn't raised to be a coward. So when you chop off the frogs head in a swift cut he lets out a gut wrenching sound of despair. He's got a long road to go.
“Stop whining.”
“Whining? I-I'm not! It's just..”
“Pusik.”
That lecture changed Luis's life forever. It changed his views on Slavic women as well. All he wanted was to be near you and have you call him whichever Russian pet name came to mind first.
Being partnered up with Luis actually proved to be useful. After that lecture both of you seemed to actually speak a little more, even if it wasn't everytime you met. If any one of you two missed a lecture? You'd sit together and look over whatever you missed.
Everyone around you thought you were using him for grades and he was using you for well.. sex. But it actually wasn't that at all! Yes, maybe at first you were only talking to him about biology and school stuff, but you actually grew to like him as someone more than a stranger.
The whole friendship thing developed slowly, meeting up for coffee or just for homework.
Luis was starting to see you more than just a simple crush. Both of you were opening up more and more to the other. To Luis, you were his first friend who he could tell almost everything. Not every detail, but more than he's ever shared before.
And of course you did as well. You told him about your childhood, past-relationships, and even details you always kept to yourself. Though things like this only get shared once you're comfortable with him and longer friends.
And if you're talking about childhood.. He can't believe how similar some things are about you that he's also experienced. You grew up in a village, more modern than his, and loved to play outside even in the worst kind of weather. When he heard that you were also a loner back at home and raised by your grandparents.. his heart skipped a beat. Maybe this was meant to be?
A moment that changed whatever it was between you two was when one time you both were out drinking at some bar near the dorms. You could always hold your liquor well and Luis reassured you that he wasn't some weakling that couldn't. Why was it that he was already half out after the fifth shot?
He was mumbling something about how funny he felt and even how beautiful you were. It was amusing, but when he suddenly found himself in a bar fight after some guy tried to flirt with you it was all over with the giggles. You went in between and got Luis out of there, his arm over your shoulders as he dragged himself after you.
The ride back was quiet, Luis passed out with his head on your shoulder, the Uber driver staring through the rearview mirror and that uncomfortable beating of your heart in your ear.
Since the men's dorms were further away you decide to drag Luis to yours. Your roommate was probably either asleep or out with her boyfriend anyway. You pay and try to heave him onto your back. The walk to your dorm takes more than half an hour and another twenty to get him tucked into bed. If Luis knew you'd be sleeping on the couch and he on your bed.. he'd feel ashamed. But.. you liked Luis and as many times as he helped with your studies.. he deserved rest.
Well.. He does wake up even before you get to fully fall asleep, gagging and close to vomiting. So the next hour you end up rubbing over his back as he pukes his soul out into your trashbin. Luckily it was a closed trashbin and not one of those with small holes.
After cleaning everything up and chugging the trashcan out the room, Luis gets sleepy again and nuzzles his face into your shoulder.
“You have cold hands..”
You've always had cold hands, not necessarily due to your ethnicity but it added to it. All your life while still living in your home country you got used to being in the cold. Your family wasn't as well off as others so the heating didn't always work. Luis's hands rest in yours, fingers intertwined unconsciously as he falls asleep again. This moment makes you realize how much you cared for this man.
You've fallen for him. Harder than he did somehow.
And how did you both end up confessing? It took both of you a while. Yes, Luis was flirting like crazy with you but you being your usual nonchalant self.. you just couldn't. You did smile at most of what he said, but never answered with your own flirtation.
You did steal some glances while smoking with him. Usually he used his lighter to light your cigarette, but one day you felt a little brave. Just as Luis was about to do what he always did you leaned in to light your cigarette with both your cheeks reddening as he watched you with half lidded eyes. This was far from a love confession, but those actions spoke more than words.
Over the course of your time at the university, which was ending soon, you grew closer. The fear of never seeing him again after graduation was tugging at your heartstrings. You had to tell him. Somehow.
Every time you were with Luis he was trying to get something out of you. You weren't very talkative, but whenever he was trying to get you to say something you couldn't hold it in. You even felt comfortable enough to show him some pictures and videos from your old life. The uncanny feeling of your life being almost the same as his was crazy.
“Who’s that?”
“My grandma. I remember her always smelling of..”
“..animalhide? Yeah.. My grandfather always did too.”
You were so comfortable with him that your legs always ended up on his lap, smoking or just talking.
Your confession came last second,with Luis not daring to make the first move as well. Both of you are too cowardly to do it. It all happens while you attend one of your classmates' graduation parties. You decided to go as friends, which ends up with Luis dancing with some other girl, because your stupid self reassured him that you were too bad at dancing and that he could ask someone else.
You were jealous and you didn't know what to do. When you suddenly see the girl kissing him you see red and instead of going between them like your hot headed personality was used to.. you run. In the bathroom you end up crying. He never loved you, which is something that voice in the back of your head tried to make you understand. How pathetic of you to believe he'd ever feel anything past friends.
Unbeknownst to you, Luis pushed off that woman and immediately noticed you storming off. He was calling for you and looking for you in the crowds. It took him ten minutes to find the bathroom and get a sound out of it by knocking against it.
“Cariño.. Hey.. Open up..”
You stayed quiet and just buried your face into your knees.
After another five minutes of nothing he was starting to get worried.
“Open this door, Zaika.”
The Russian pet name made your resolve falter and you open the door for him, your mascara smeared over your cheeks. Luis immediately pulls you into him, locking the door for some privacy. His soft words of comfort makes you melt into him, arms wrapped around his waist as he held you.
After some pricking around and making it known that he didn't want to kiss that other woman, you can't keep the words from spilling. You confess everything, from the day you met to now.
You told him that you loved everything about him. To him trying to teach you proper Spanish, to him wanting to learn everything about your culture and language. You ramble and ramble, probably making him confused because of your accent ruining everything. When you stop and stand in silence you think that that's it. You scared him off and now he's gonna rip open that door and leave you forever.
He didn't. Luis just pulls you back into his arms and confesses to you as well. The night ends with both you kissing, making out and all.
The few months until graduation are the best you've ever had. Luis is all sweet and the best boyfriend you could wish for. He gets you flowers and even buys you your favorite drink at the bar.
After graduation you decide to move in together, Luis finding work at some company while you stay at the university to do part-time in the labs.
Living together is fun. You both cook together when there is time or one cooks for the other if either of you come home later. He makes you Empanadas and you your favorite dish from childhood. He loves anything you make, from Borscht to Shashlik.
Sadly on some days you don't see each other and when you do only to cuddle in bed.
NSFW
Now that we're talking about bed. He's a real champion in bed. Many might think he's the dominant typa guy, but he's more of a switch. Usually you're on top, Luis grinning up at you while you do what you do.
He loves calling you pet names in the three different languages surrounding your relationship.
In English? Sweetheart, Love, Baby
En español? Hermosa, Mi Vida, Cariño, even more considering it's his mother tounge
In Russian? (The few he knows) - Printsessa, Rodnaya, Saldkaya
He loves speaking Spanish in bed, the dirtiest words mixed with both English and Russian making you even more turned on.
Whenever he's the bottom, Luis is a moaning mess. He loves being dominated by you. Of course the flirty jokes never stop, but they're more limited. Usually he's not for overstimulation, but ever since he's been with you he doesn't mind it as much.
Whenever he's the top, you bet he's doing it in the most unserious and funny way, gently moving inside of you while making jokes.
Favorite position? Definitely reverse cowgirl. It's so ridiculously fun that he can't help loving it. Other than that he's all for the basics of missionary or riding. Eye contact is important for him even if his favorite position contradicts that. Your eyes are all he wants to see alongside your pleasure stricken expressions.
His favorite part of your body? Eyes. He lives for your eyes, they show much more expression than anything. Other than that he's an ass guy, slapping it every time he walks past you and even in bed.
Luis also loves eating you out, no matter in which position. His sucking is the loudest besides your moans and his groans, legs spread by his arms as he takes you. While doing so he mocks you (not the degrading type, because he hates stuff like that if it's him doing it) and uses Russian petnames. He's always so pussy drunk.
After a rough round it's mostly his body marked. He wears the scratches on his back and hickeys on his neck like a grand prize.
Aftercare is always the best with Luis. Either it's him carrying you to shower with him, where the next round takes place, or he's just holding you. Something he loves to do is smoke a cigarette with you, sharing one if he doesn't have more. He's the first to fall asleep, because you're the first person he trusts in this modern world.
Why would anyone celebrate their given name ?? Like, what's the point behind that. He was very confused the first time he found out about them.
You came to Hogwarts with a Slavic friend and one day you naturally celebrated her name day. I feel like Severus is very good with dates, like birthdays and such, remembering numbers well, so when he "forgets" someone's birthday then no, he didn't forget, just ignored it. So he knew it wasn't your friends birthday since you mentioned it before a few times, he didn't like that he remembered. So what else could you be possibly celebrating ?? You were even shaking her hand and everything, giving her a present, and then he heard it "Happy name day!" ..What ?? What is a name day ?? Why hasn't he ever heard about this ?? Who is keeping what from him ?! It couldn't be something that was celebrated in England. There was no way. In all the seventeen years he's been living he thought he´d notice something like this after all. He hasn't seen anything like this before, it definitely had to be something celebrated in your country.
Later that day he asked you about it. You told him you totally forgot that in England they didn't celebrate them, and explained to him that there were different variations across countries. Your country just celebrated the given name of a person, while in other they celebrated when their patron saints name is commemorated. Every day in the calendar held a name, and people usually just gave you something small like chocolate or earrings or just shaking your hand wishing you good health. It wasn't really that important, many people didn't care about them at all, older generations took it more seriously. You told him when your name day was and later attempted to find his in your calendar. The closest you found in your calendar was Severin. "Close enough, guess you're Severin from now on Severus" you said to him smiling "Absolutely. not." He said he knew exactly what you were doing and he didn't like it "Oh come on don't be like that Severin-" you said laughing "Stop that now before i do something about it" you tried to hide your amusement but sadly lost the battle "....Whatever you say....Sev-" He gave you the coldest look he could master and walked away. "No Severus wait, i wasn't going to say it" But it was too late, he just kept walking away, his back to you. Guess you've done it. "Come on, it was just a joke I won't say it again I promise" you had to jog to his side since his legs were so long and he wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon.
He ignored you for the rest of the week after that day, before finally forgiving you when you turned up to his common room door with these beautiful slick black quills he's been eyeing in Hogsmeade but never bought. They were much better then the used old shabby ones he had right now. You also bought him some ink since he was running out. You half expected he'd still be pissed at you since he wasn't the type to get bought with materialistic stuff but this whole thing wasn't that deep anyway so he just dropped it, reluctantly accepting the gift.
you did give him a gift on Severin's name day though, he nearly ignored you for a month but it was worth it...
There are absoultly no Slavic!Reader fanfics or headcannons anywhere in any fandom that I'm in, so I'ma change that for my own sanity.
I present to you: Mac x Polish!Reader Domestic Fluff (Pierogi line kurwa maćććć)
Nothing I write is proofread, pls get used to it
Fic under the cut, purely SFW!
It was a hurried November evening, trying to get all preparations done before the annual Thanksgiving feast that your family had to have; except, this time, you decided to host it. Worst idea of your entire life. Of course, everyone was bringing something to some extent, but your stress was still through the roof. Most of the food wasn’t even Thanksgiving related; czernina, cabbage and mushrooms, fried beets, homemade pickles, kapusta zasmażana…the list goes on. Of course, you wouldn’t have to worry about buying alcohol either, your family always had that covered. Though, this year, things were going to be different. Your family had yet to meet your partner, Mac, and you figured that this would be the perfect opportunity! Once they found out that they would be sitting at a table with your entire family around them, they were a nervous wreck.
Mac was almost angry with you that you wouldn’t discuss this with them beforehand, but they couldn’t. They could never be mad at you. Besides, this was bound to happen one way or the other, the sooner the better. It would be somewhat easier anyways, drunk people are usually easier to get along with; that is, if they aren’t an angry drunk. You would be there if anything went wrong regardless, so that relieved some of their nerves. Not a lot, but it did help a little bit. Mac had a lot of questions to ask about them before their arrival however,
“Is your mom nice? What’s your sister’s favorite perfume? Does your brother really like Adidas or is that just a stereotype? Is your uncle a fun drunk or a depressing drunk? Would your auntie be offended if I got her chocolate? Flowers? Is it true that your grandmother bodyshames you? Why the hell can’t you sit on anything cold?!” It was really cute, honestly. They just want to be accepted by their partner's somewhat strict family so, so bad.
This mere fact is how you both ended up here, in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, ingredients everywhere, in a pierogi assembly line. If Mac wanted to impress your family, food was the only solid option, a famous cultural food at that. You’ve learned over the countless Christmases and Easters at Babcia’s house that dumpling folding was an art of its own, and that art wasn’t as easy as it seemed. It was almost frustrating how those small circles of dough always stuck to your hands and never itself, how the tiniest bit of access filling could mess up your folding technique. All of these things led Mac to be the filler and you to be the folder, it was in your blood after all.
While Mac was getting more and more stressed out about meeting your serious yet rambunctious family, their heart swelled with warmth to be included in an almost write-of-passage ritual from your culture. They’ve tried numerous amounts of questionable dishes from post-Soviet Poland, and they decently enjoyed most of them! Though, they refuse to try meat jelly or any dish with pigs feet in it, I mean, who wouldn’t? Though, Mac’s favorites would be rosół, gołąbki, and bigos, though they aren’t opposed to a potato pancake as a snack. Exploring your culture at your side is a huge highlight of being with you, it’s apart of who you are and they get to learn about something new every time you cook! Mac wasn't the happiest sailor when you served them a steaming hot bowl of barszcz in the middle of summer, however.
Mac watched carefully as you portioned balls of sticky, pale dough with ease, how each one was almost perfect compared to the last. They wanted to learn for you, they hope to make these by themselves for you one day. Would they ever be as good as your Babcia or Dziadek? No, probably not, but the effort is worth every mistake.
“Alright, so, I got everything ready. All you need to do is put heaping spoonful of this filling into the middle of the dough, just like this…” you explain, making a pieróg by yourself to give a visual example of the process, “And then you can hand it right over to me, and I’ll fold it and cook them when we’re all finished. I believe in you, Mac.”
You gave them a warm smile as you folded the dumpling with ease, your hands and fingers moving quick, almost like it was a reflex. First pieróg down, about fifty more to go…
Mac was terrible at portioning filling to say the least. The first dumpling they ever made, they put so much filling in it that when you went to fold it, it went all over the counter when you tried to close it with your thumbs. Mac gave a shy smile at your laugh, apologizing profusely at their mistake. The second time around, they put too little inside, making basically 80% dough and only 20% filling. You started genuinely laughing at how unskilled they were at proportioning, giving them a quick peck on the cheek before giving them a technique; the filling should be about the size of your thumb, and then press it more inward to the middle of the dough.
“Ah, this explanation is definitely more efficient than your last one, beloved.” Mac exclaimed with understanding, “I’ll be sure not to mess it up this time.”
They eventually got the hang of it, filling one dumpling at a time while you oiled the sides and pinched them in. As you both became more focused, it became quiet, a comfortable silence. The only noises that could be heard was the scraping of a spoon against a bowl, plastic hitting a glass bowl, and the shuffle of hands against an apron once in a while. Once in a while, you two would sneak a few kisses into the mix as a small mind break. It was sweet, it was domestic, it was everything you both wanted and so, so much more.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
꥟ synopsis jude accompanies you home for midsummer (noc kupały / ivan kupala / līgo / midsommar). before heading down to the bonfires, he sits in your childhood bedroom, learning how to braid your hair and weave a flower crown.
pairing: jude bellingham x eastern european!reader(afab)
genre: fluff
word count: 2.5k
“If I pull your hair, you have to promise not to yell at me,” Jude warned, his large hands awkwardly hovering over your head like he was handling fragile glassware.
You snorted. “Jude, it’s just hair. It’s three strands over each other. You handle a football in front of eighty thousand people every weekend, I think you can manage a braid.”
“Yeah, well, the ball doesn’t slip through my fingers every three seconds,” he grumbled softly.
You looked at him through the mirror of your vanity and giggled. He was sitting on the wooden chair pulled up right behind you, his brows knit together in intense concentration, his lips pouted slightly as his dark fingers carefully tried to section the top half of your hair into two separate parts. The sheer contrast of him — a towering 190-centimeter athlete looking utterly defeated by two woven plaits meant to sweep back into a crown — made your chest swell with warmth.
He looked adorable, honestly. Since Midsummer was all about staying up until dawn, gathering around the bonfire, singing, and eating traditional food, you both were taking your time getting ready before stepping out into the golden evening air. Jude was already wearing his crisp, loose-fitting linen shirt with subtle traditional embroidery along the collar, paired with simple trousers. Seeing your culture’s traditional style on his tall frame felt surreal — a little funny to see him out of his usual designer gear, but deeply, impossibly cute.
On the bed right beside him lay his heavy wreath of dark green oak leaves. Your dad had bought it for him at the morning market, proudly explaining that while women wore woven flower crowns, men were crowned with oak leaves to symbolize strength and endurance. Jude had been wearing the oak crown around the house all afternoon like a proud golden retriever, preening every time your family complimented him.
When you’d first told him back in Madrid that you were flying home for Midsummer, you hadn't expected him to pay much attention. You’d offered to go alone so he could rest during the off-season, but Jude had immediately cut you off, insisting on coming along. He genuinely wanted to learn the traditions, eat the pungent caraway cheese, drink the local beer, jump over the fires, and celebrate where you came from. The fact that he was here, fully embracing your world without a single complaint, had touched a part of your heart you weren't prepared for.
His huff of frustration broke you out of your thoughts.
“A normal braid is fine, but this is like... two braids at an angle!” Jude groaned, his hands dropping to slump against your shoulders in defeat. “I don’t have enough fingers for this! Your hair is like silk, it just slides out!”
You laughed, turning your head back to look up at his pouting face up close. “If it’s that hard, I can just do it myself, you know. You don't have to stress.”
“No, no,” Jude snapped back quickly, his hands instantly hovering back over your head, defensively smoothing down a stray lock. “I’m doing it. I said I want to help you get ready, so I’m helping. Just... hold still and stop moving your head.”
You smiled softly, reaching up to lay your hands gently over his knuckles. “Okay, coach. Let me walk you through it.”
“Please,” he muttered, dropping his head for a second on your shoulder with a tired sigh that blew a soft puff of air over your ear.
“First of all, stop trying to use your whole hand,”you instructed, angling your eyes up to meet his in the glass. “You only need your fingertips for the top part. See this section on the left? Divide it into three, but keep the tension tight against my scalp. Don't let go of the middle strand.”
Jude stared intently into the mirror, nodding with absolute, deadly seriousness as if he were taking down tactical instructions from his manager.
“Now, every time you cross the outer strand over the middle, you just grab a tiny bit of extra hair from the side. That's what keeps it pinned back so my flower crown actually has something to rest on.”
“Easier said than done,” Jude grumbled, but his tongue poked out slightly between his teeth as he carefully pinched the strands between his long fingers, his breath slowing down as he concentrated. “Like this?”
“Perfect!”
Jude’s hands worked slowly, his thumbs gently brushing behind your ear every time he gathered a fresh section of hair. The delicate, feather-light touch sent a quiet shiver down your neck. He caught your eye in the mirror, a sudden, smug little grin breaking through his serious expression.
“Look at that,” he whispered near your ear, his knuckles lightly skimming your temple as he secured the first side with a tiny clear elastic band. “Told you I could do it. What's next?”
“Now you do the exact same thing on the right side,” you teased lightly, “and then you get to do the fun part and weave the tiny little accent braids that hang down over my shoulders.”
Jude looked at the fine sections of hair remaining, then up at his own hands, letting out a soft laugh. “You're trying to test my hand-eye coordination more than an entire season in Spain does, I swear.” But despite the complaint, his hands immediately settled back over your hair, softer and more careful than before.
Sitting there beneath the gentle rhythm of his touch, a sudden wave of emotion washed over you. It was almost overwhelming. The affection suddenly pressed hard against your ribs.
Here was one of the most famous athletes in the world, a man who spent his life under intense public pressure, sitting on a creaky wooden chair in your childhood bedroom, his shoulders hunched over just so he could carefully braid your hair for a pagan holiday he’d barely known existed before he met you.
Your chest felt almost too small to hold how much you loved him in that moment. You had to bite the inside of your cheek just to keep your eyes from watering in the mirror, watching the genuine care in his eyes every time he smoothed down a stray strand.
“All done,” Jude announced softly a few minutes later, stepping back to admire his work with an unashamed grin of triumph. He adjusted the final tiny elastic, handing you the small wooden hand mirror from the vanity so you could check the back.
The braids weren't perfectly symmetrical — one side was a little tighter than the other — but they were neat, secure, and most importantly made with so much love that you thought it was the best hairstyle you’d ever had.
“Jude... it actually looks amazing,” you whispered, turning around in the chair to look up at him. “Thank you.”
He preened under the praise, tossing his head back slightly with a proud little smirk.
Before he could pull away, you reached out, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face against the soft linen over his stomach. Jude let out a soft chuckle, stepping closer until he was bracketed between your knees. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close while his fingers gently idly played with the soft ends of the braids he’d just finished, his thumb brushing behind your ear.
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss right to the crown of your head, smelling the sweet meadow scent of your shampoo. “You're welcome, my love,” he murmured against your hair. “Now, go put your dress on so we can finish the look. I want to see the whole thing.”
“Give me two minutes,” you smiled, kissing his jaw before standing up to grab your traditional embroidered linen dress and heading into the bathroom to change.
When you stepped back out, adjusting the ties at your wrists, Jude was waiting by the window, bathed in the honey-colored light of the late afternoon sun. He turned around, his eyes softening instantly as he took you in.
“Wow,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “You look... incredible.”
“Not complete yet,” you smiled, walking over to the large wooden tray resting on the mattress.
On it lay a fresh, fragrant pile of wild daisies, cornflowers, clover, and long meadow grasses that your mom had gathered earlier that morning. Jude came closer and stared down at the stems in utter confusion, eyes wide.
“Wait,” Jude looked up, gesturing to the pile. “You don't buy the flower crowns pre-made?”
You giggled, sitting down on the bed and pulling the tray closer into your lap. “Nope. Men's oak crowns are bought at the market because oak branches are way too stiff to weave at home, and honestly, my dad is too lazy to do it anyway. But women’s crowns are tradition. You’re supposed to pick wild blooms and weave them yourself. That’s part of the magic on Midsummer.”
Jude looked at the wild blooms, then at you, a determined glint immediately returning to his eyes as he sat down cross-legged right beside you, his long leg pressing warm against yours.
Before you could even pick up the first stem, he reached over to grab his heavy oak leaf crown and plopped it right back onto his head.
“Okay, now i’m ready,” Jude announced, adjusting the oak leaves with a serious nod that made you giggle. “Show me how to do it. I helped with the hair, I'm not backing out now.”
You couldn't help the affectionate giggle that escaped you at the sight of him sitting there in full forest-king mode. “Alright, master weaver. It's actually easier than the hair, I promise.”
You picked up a long, flexible blade of sweetgrass and a thick white daisy, holding them up so he could see. “You start by making a loop with the grass to anchor the base. Then, you take your first bloom, lay the stem right alongside the base, and wrap a second stem around the back to lock it in place. Like a knot.”
Jude leaned in so close his shoulder pressed against yours, his oak crown lightly brushing your temple as he watched your fingers. He picked up a bright blue cornflower, trying to mimic the motion with his long fingers.
“Like this? Loop it around the stem... and pull tight?”
“Not too tight, or you'll snap the stem,” you warned softly, guiding his wrist. “Just enough tension to bind the blossoms together. Every time you add a new flower, you overlap the stems so the chain keeps growing.”
Jude went dead silent, his tongue poking out slightly between his lips as he concentrated. He carefully laid a white daisy next to his cornflower, wrapping the stem around with extreme precision. When he successfully bound it into the loop without snapping the delicate green stalk, he held the tiny two-flower chain up to your face to show you like a proud kid.
“Look at that. Structural integrity.”
“Impressive,” you teased, grabbing a cluster of yellow clover to add to the chain. “Only about forty more flowers to go.”
Together, four hands working in tandem over the wooden tray, the ring gradually grew into a lush, vibrant crown of wild summer colors. Jude got into the rhythm, picking out specific flowers to alternate the colors — a stem of blue cornflower, a head of yellow clover, a sprig of green fern — working with the same meticulous care he’d used on your hair.
“Finished,” Jude breathed, carefully lifting the flower crown with both hands. He looked at you, his eyes softening as he held it over your head. “Ready?”
“Ready,” you whispered.
He gently lowered the crown onto your head, resting it right against the sturdy braid structure he’d crafted earlier. His hands lingered against your cheeks, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as he took you in — the white linen, the wild blooms, and the hair he’d braided himself.
“I made you look like a queen,” Jude murmured softly, his voice thick with a warmth that went straight to your chest.
He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips that tasted like sweet summer air. When he pulled back, he took your hand and pulled you up from the bed, leading you over to stand in front of the full-length vanity mirror.
Seeing the two of you reflected together — Jude towering behind you in his crisp linen shirt and oak leaf crown, his hands resting on your hips, while you stood framed by wild meadow flowers and his carefully crafted braids — was too much. Your throat tightened, and before you could stop it, your eyes shimmered with tears.
Jude caught your expression in the glass instantly. His brows knit together in concern, and he spun you around in his arms, cupping your face. “Hey... baby, don't cry. What’s wrong? Did a stem poke you?”
“No,” you sniffled, letting out a watery laugh as you wiped a tear before it could spill onto your cheek. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his collarbone. “Nothing is wrong. I just... you're the absolute best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jude. You came all the way here, let my dad buy you oak leaves, wore it the whole day, and spent an hour braiding my hair... I just love you so much.”
Jude let out a breathy laugh against your temple, his arms tightening securely around your waist as he lifted you an inch off your feet, rocking you gently side to side.
“Of course I did,” he whispered into your hair, kissing the side of your neck. “I want to be part of your world. All of it.”
When he set you back down, he straightened his shirt, his usual confident grin returning as he adjusted his oak crown in the mirror. He flexed his broad arms playfully.
“How do I look? Powerful?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Extremely powerful,” you giggled, wiping the rest of the warmth from your eyes and reaching for your phone on the bedside table. “Come here. We need proof of this before we head down.”
Jude wrapped a warm arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. He rested his chin lightly against the top of your head — careful not to crush the flowers — while holding up his free hand in a peace sign. You lifted the camera, snapping a few quick photos.
In the reflection on the screen, surrounded by flowers, oak leaves, and linen, Jude looked completely in his element — leaning down to press a kiss against your temple right as the shutter clicked.
“Okay, forest king,” you smiled, locking your phone as a loud call of laughter echoed from the backyard downstairs. “My mom just shouted so it’s time to go take family photos before we head to the bonfire.”
Jude grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers securely through yours with a bright smile. “Lead the way.”
a/n: idk about yall but was legit SOBBING while writing this
btw feel free to send me more jude requests bc there is a little drought and i want to write more for jude!
-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ཐི❤︎ཋྀ
This is supposed to be a sequel to this, but you can read this separately, just that he didn't spawn at your house randomly. Anyway, enjoy :›
The day was warm, summer behind the corner. Birds chirped in the trees as the day began. Sun shined through cracks in your curtains, golden stripes running across Severus's peaceful face. His face scrunched in displeasure as the rays shined directly over his closed eyelids before he hid his face under the covers, curling into a ball and turning around, his back facing you. You smiled at the sight, having been up for a while just watching him sleep, sometimes brushing lose strands of hair from his face.
Your mom barged into your room "vstávať ospalé hlavy, potrebujem pomôcť okolo domu" wake up sleepy heads, I need help around the house she said in a overly cheery voice for this hour in the morning. You just heard grumbling from your side and you chuckled "come on Severus, time to wake up, you heard mom" he sighted, it was as if your bed had bewitched him, he couldn't leave. Your bed was the nicest, softest thing he's ever slept in and he had no intention of letting this feeling end so easy. "Come on Severus, wake yank up" you said between laughing, clutching the blanket as you attempted to yank it off him but he had surprising strength for someone who just woke up. You eventually sighted, defeated, still smiling. You got up first, leaving him in your bed for a few minutes as you changed.
He could feel sleep taking him again before he was cruelly snapped out of it with your finger poking his cheek. You got closer to him, a smile ever-present on your face. You kissed his cheek, before whispering in his ear "Severus, come brush your teeth with me, mom will come here again soon anyway" he grumbled again, blushed at your kiss and unceremoniously sat up. His hair looked messy from sleep, sticking at odd angles as he rubbed his tired eyes, though he had to admit, this was the best sleep of his life, and he hated sleeping in new places. You smiled even wider at the sight, your cheeks began to hurt. "See, now that wasn't so hard was it" you knew it was, you just wanted to mess with him. He glared at you before roughly throwing the blanket from him as he got up. You were already in your house clothes so you went to the bathroom and prepared your toothbrushes. When he joined you he looked surprised that you prepared his toothbrush for him, putting the exact amount of toothpaste he liked. He took it, lazily brushing his teeth looking at you through the mirrors reflection. Your movement were much more quicker as you were almost done. You spit into the sink taking your cup and rising your mouth spitting again. You waited for him to finish and you both made your way to the kitchen.
Your mom made you some breakfast and you ate in silence. Your family didn't really eat together or something, you just ate whenever you were hungry and sometimes there were people at the table, either reading or something or not. Now it was just the two of you, sitting next to each other. After you ate, you took your plates, putting them in the sink and went out where your mother was watering her roses. You went to her, waiting for further instructions "ah, tu ste, jedli ste ??" ah, here you are, did you eat ?? You both nodded and she continued "ok naše čerešne začali dozrievať tak potrebujem aby ste ich obrali ak sa vám dá prosím" ok our cherries started to ripen so I need you both to pick them if you can manage please
You turned to Severus and translated what your mother has asked of you both. He nodded and you told him to wait here with her until you retrieved two bowls where you could place the cherries in. When you left, your mom motioned for Severus to help her water roses giving him a second watering can. You rummaged through your cabinets, grumbling as you couldn't find anything !! As usual. You eventually found what you were looking for in an abandoned dusty corner of one cabinet, the bowl being swallowed by different pots and pans. You sighted after the struggle to get them out. You made your way outside to find the space where you left them both empty. You quickly whipped your head in every direction to look for them, spotting them a little further in the back watering your father's wisteria. The two seemed to get along, your mom looked like she was correcting his movements with a smile and he nodded repeating the motion. "Severus" You called out and showed him the bowls in your hands. He gently placed the watering can down and went with you a little further back to where your cherry was. The cherries weren't completely ripe yet, some still half yellow but roughly half of the tree was good for picking. You started picking the ones closest to your height since you were on the shorter side. But soon you began to struggle. You couldn't reach them so he, your tall mighty knight, took the branch bending it to your level. You smiled and thanked him, quickly picking them off before he released it. You ate more than you really picked, but they were always better straight off the tree, as your mother said. Severus's bowl looked much fuller than yours, so you took the initiative to feed him since he didn't eat himself.
You picked an exceptionally red, juicy one and pressed it to his thin lips, urging him to eat it. He just side eyed you and didn't open his mouth at all "eat." You said circling it almost drilling it past his lips but his teeth blocked it from going further. Your shoulders sagged as he refused to eat it, but just when you were about to pull away, he popped it into his mouth eating it, spitting the pit out. You smiled "good ??" You asked happy he took it, he nodded silently. You resumed picking in silence before you felt something hanging from your ear. You looked, and noticed he hung two cherries on your ear. You looked at him, smiling. He was pretending to be focused, picking with this serious expression. You picked one pair too and hung it on his ear. He just looked at you from the corner of his eye, but you could see a ghost of a smile on his lips.
After a while, your bowls filled to the brim and you couldn't pick any more. You just laid in the grass together, ground warm, looking up at the blue sky. There were some clouds casting shadows on hills and meadows in the distance. The smell of the warm grass was nice as an occasional gentle breeze caressed your hot bodies. You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of your chickens in the distance, they all seemed to want to pick a fight with Severus. As he heard them, he sat up, and as he did so, they spotted him. They started to move closer and closer. He got up and started to back away. You rolled off the ground as well, dusting yourself with your hands as the chickens started to run towards you both. You shooed them away but they still followed you. You just laughed as Severus attempted to shoo them away with his foot as well but they just jumped on it. He staggered back and joined your side. You just laughed and ran to get the bowls as the chickens chased you both through your land. You made it to the front and closed the chickens out behind a fence. You both panted as you laughed. "bloody chickens" he muttered, making his way back to the house. You just laughed harder, jogging to his side with the bowl in hand.
You both got inside and rinsed the cherries. After that you both sat down behind the kitchen table and you made it your mission to feed him as many cherries as you could even giving him a bowl for his pits and everything. He just glared at you but ate them anyway, he might come to your house more often.
