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zepskies · 24 days ago

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Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you?

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair.

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too!

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil.

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to—

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile.

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe.

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new.

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

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dailyrothko · 10 months ago

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Today is my birthday, so I thought I would share photos that I got recently and I'm very happy to have. These pictures have not been seen in this fine condition by almost anyone, (One was reproduced on the wall at the Paris show) and the top studio shot for years was only known to me in black and white.

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗞𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗗𝗜𝗢 222 Bowery, Lower east side, Manhattan 📸 Herbert Matter © Herbert Matter Estate/ Stanford University. Libraries. Department of Special Collections and University Archives Artworks-© 2024 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko Artist Rights Society (ARS), New York

I don't have an official list of the paintings in these photographs I believe I recognize most of them, so these are my guesses:

Photo one and three- on the far left, partially obscured, No. 15, 1957, Oil on canvas

To the right of that- No. 12 (Black on Dark Sienna on Purple), 1960, Oil on canvas 120 1/8 × 105 ¼ in.

Continuing on the left side we have- No.8 (Gray, Orange and Maroon),1960

In the back up against the wall- No. 7, 1960, a painting that Rothko was famously photographed with by two different photographers

In the foreground- No. 21 (Untitled), 1949 Oil and mixed media on canvas 94 × 53 3/8 in. (238.8 × 135.6 cm)

To the right of that and leaning up against the wall is Untitled, No 11 / No 20, 1949 Oil on canvas, 238,1 × 134,9 cm

The partially obscured red painting on the back wall to the right I do not recognize. But if anybody does, please let me know.

Picture two-No 61 (Rust and blue), 1953, Oil on canvas, 115 cm × 92 cm (45 in × 36 in)

#mark rothko #markrothko #rothko #daily rothko #dailyrothko #abstract expressionism #modern art #abstraction #colorfield #ab ex #colorfield painting #mid century #artist studio #herbert matter'

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 24 days ago

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Accident

David Howard Thornton x Y/N - drabble - 853 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reader gets hurt on accident, actor reader, hospital, guilt, apologies, pretty fluffy tbh just watch out for the beginning because its Terrifier so ya know.... gore - ALSO, L/N just means last name

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You struggled against the sadistic clown above you. Blood covered you head to toe, your arms felt weak as you pushed against Art’s arms. He pressed the blade further, his strength outmatching yours. You begrudgingly grabbed the blade itself, blood dripping from your hands.You screamed as you felt the knife starting to press into your shoulder, the clown above laughing silently at your pain. The further the knife pressed the more you screamed, kicking and twisting underneath him to no avail as he straddled you.

“Stop!” you said, your voice hoarse from screaming. Your hands finally slipped the knife through as your blood made it too slippery to hold. The knife plunged into your shoulder and you let out a real, gut wrenching scream.

“CUT!” yelled Damien as he rushed over to you.

You rolled to your side clutching your arm as you sobbed.

“Somebody fucking page medical now! Call 911!” Damien yelled, his hands hovering around you; wanting to help but not knowing how.

David jumped off you, sitting in shock next to you. He didn’t know what to do, he was absolutely shocked. That knife was supposed to be a prop knife but it was hard to distinguish between them, it was the prop masters job to make sure the real knives for show never got mixed up between real and fake. David watched as the puddle of real blood emanated from your shoulder. This horrible pit in his stomach formed and he felt absolutely awful. He snapped out of it when you stopped moving and your eyes fluttered closed. He tossed the knife away, moving to you quickly to check your pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. Strong but fast.

“They probably passed out from the pain…” Damien said as he held pressure around your wound, keeping the knife in place.

Medical arrived and took over before the EMT’s loaded you up on a stretcher and took you to the ambulance.

“What hospital?” David asked as they started an IV and put an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose.

“Lenox Hill, we gotta go.” said the EMT before slamming the doors shut. The sirens turned on and before he knew it you were gone.

Set was eerily quiet, “I… I didn’t… It was an accident…” David stuttered. He could see the sympathy on everyone's faces.

Damien clapped his hand on David’s shoulder, “I know. Go get cleaned up and go to the hospital. Were done for the day. I’ll look into it all, trust me, somebody's getting fired.”

David nodded sullenly. Hair and makeup was a quick removal, they moved especially quick knowing David would want to get to you ASAP. He took the ferry from Staten Island to Manhattan, the 25 minute ride having him nauseous at the thought of how much pain you were in. As soon as the ferry docked he pushed through the crowds and rushed towards the hospital. The receptionist could see his worried face.

“Y/N L/N they were brought in by ambulance,” he said quickly.

“Fourth floor room 831, they’re in recovery. What is your relation to them, it’s only family visiting hours right now.” said the receptionist.

“Husband.” he said without hesitation.

“Alright, go on up. Elevators are around the corner.” she said, pointing.

David nodded before walking over and repeatedly pressing the elevator button. As soon as he arrived at your room he pushed his way in.

Your bright face smiled at him, you looked a little sleepy but that was all. “Hi baby.”

David stood in shock for a moment before shutting the door and walking over to the bed. “Honey I’m… I’m so sorry.” he said, his voice watery.

You held his face in your hands, “It was an accident. It was blunt enough that it only cut my muscle a tad, three inches deep, nothing more. No arteries or bones. Ten stitches and some pain killers and I’m good as new.” you moved your gown off your shoulder slightly, it was wrapped up but you just wanted to show him to show you were ok.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on top of yours.

“Think Damien will put that shot in the movie?” you asked with complete seriousness.

David laughed before kissing your hand. “I bet if you ask he will. That scream was something else.”

You smiled, “I hope so. They said I can return to shooting in a few days, just have to take it easy. They’re getting my discharge paperwork ready as we speak.”

“My perfect little scream queen. So dedicated.” he joked.

You rolled your eyes before bringing him up to your face for a sweet kiss. You could feel how sorry he was. You kissed him over and over again sweetly.

“We should stop before your heart monitor alerts the nurses.” he said, both of you listening to the quickened beeping.

You both laughed, your cheeks tinted with an embarrassed blush. He kissed over your neck a few times, making heat drip over your most sensitive areas. “Later.” he smiled deviously.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope ya'll like the new addition of our favorite boy who plays our favorite clown! Idk how to really write for Art so send in a request if you have an idea, I'd appreciate it! I feel like David is so underwritten for fanfics so I might pump out a few more for him in the near future. Thank you for all the love and support! XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#terrifer 3 #terrifier #terrifer 2 #writing #art the clown #david howard thornton #david howard thornton x reader #david howard thornton x y/n #art the clown fanfic #art the clown x reader #art the clown x you #art the clown x y/n

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moonxknightx · 4 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :SUMMER FLING (PT1) : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hugh Jackman x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Literally none!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: In the peaceful town of Portofino, you run a café that offers a calm escape from New York. When Hugh Jackman, being on a long due holiday, started frequenting your café, you try to keep things friendly and low-key. As summer progresses, your conversations grow more engaging, and you begin to look forward to his visits, hoping that maybe, it can bloom into something more.

THE SOUND OF THE BELL ABOVE THE DOOR CHIMED SOFTLY AS YOU FLIPPED THE SIGN ON YOUR BOOKSTORE CAFE TO, Aperto. The sun was just beginning to rise over the glittering sea of Portofino, casting a golden glow across the picturesque Italian town. The cobbled streets were still quiet, with only the occasional scooter whirring by. It was early yet, but you had always enjoyed the calm before the bustle, when it felt like the whole world was still asleep, and this tiny corner of paradise belonged only to you.

After moving here from New York two years ago, you had found a rhythm. Your café-bookstore, Il Sogno, had quickly become a favorite of both locals and tourists. With its shelves lined with well-worn books and the scent of fresh espresso hanging in the air, it was your sanctuary—a world away from the chaos of Manhattan.

You pulled a fresh batch of pastries from the oven just as the door opened, and in walked your most faithful customer and friend, Signora Rossi. Every morning without fail, she’d be there, perched at the window with her espresso and biscotti, watching the town slowly wake up.

“Buongiorno, cara!” she greeted you with a smile, her voice warm with familiarity. She was in her late sixties, her grey hair pulled into a neat bun, her eyes sharp and full of mischief. She was like a second mother, always full of gossip and advice, especially when it came to your love life—or lack thereof.

“Morning, Signora,” you said, pouring her usual espresso.

“Did you hear about the new mystery man who arrived yesterday?” she asked, leaning over the counter as though she had the juiciest secret in town.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear, nothing escapes you, does it?”

“Of course not,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “He’s rented the villa by the sea. You know, the one with the view of the harbor. No one knows who he is, but I’ve heard he’s famous.”

“Famous?” You raised an eyebrow, handing her the cup. “What, like a movie star?”

“Perhaps,” she mused, stirring her espresso. “But he’s been very quiet, very private. It’s only a matter of time before someone figures it out. Maybe he’ll come into your café, and you’ll charm him.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Maybe he’ll just want his coffee in peace.”

~🌻~

But as the morning went on, you couldn’t help but wonder. A famous stranger in Portofino? It wasn’t unusual for celebrities to vacation in the area, but something about the mystery piqued your curiosity.

Hours passed, and the café began to fill with its usual mix of locals and tourists. You were busy behind the counter, making lattes and chatting with customers when the door chimed again. You glanced up from the espresso machine, ready with your typical warm greeting, and froze.

He stood in the doorway, sunglasses perched on his nose, casually dressed in a simple white T-shirt and jeans. There was something about him—his presence, the way he carried himself—that made you do a double-take. You knew that face.

Hugh Jackman.

The mystery man. You immediately recognized him, but years in New York had taught you how to keep your cool around famous people. You bit back your surprise and forced yourself to act normal.

“Good afternoon,” you said with a smile. “What can I get you?”

He smiled—warm, friendly, and entirely unassuming, which caught you off guard. “G’day! A cappuccino, please,” he replied, his Australian accent unmistakable.

As you prepared his cappuccino, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. He was taller than you expected, and even more handsome in person, if that was possible. But what stood out was how calm and down-to-earth he seemed, nothing like the larger-than-life characters he played on screen.

When you handed him the cup, he took a seat near the window, pulling a book from his bag—a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, one of your favorites. He seemed so at ease, as if he belonged in this small-town café, far removed from the spotlight.

You busied yourself with other customers, but every now and then, your eyes would wander to him. Part of you wanted to say something—anything—to break the ice, but what would you say? “Hey, you’re Wolverine” seemed a bit much.

Instead, you let him enjoy his coffee in peace. You couldn’t help but smile when Signora Rossi came in again not long after and spotted him immediately. She practically squealed with excitement.

“Oh mio Dio!” she whispered, gripping your arm as she looked over at Hugh. “That’s him, the mystery man! Hugh Jackman!”

You suppressed a laugh, nodding. “Yes, I know.”

“And you’re not going to say anything?” she asked, incredulous.

“I think he’d rather enjoy his coffee without being mobbed.”

Signora Rossi huffed but sat down, unable to keep her eyes off Hugh. Meanwhile, you kept sneaking glances as well, but you didn’t say a word.

Just as you were wiping down the counter, Hugh stood up and approached. Your heart gave a little jump as he walked toward you, holding his empty cup.

“That was the best cappuccino I’ve had in a long time,” he said, his smile genuine.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I try.”

He laughed softly, glancing around the café. “This is a nice place. How long have you had it?”

“About two years,” you replied, feeling more at ease now that he was talking to you like any other customer. “Moved here from New York. Decided I needed a change of pace.”

“New York, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “I know that feeling.”

There was something in the way he said it—like he, too, was running from something. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and you felt a flicker of connection. But then, just as quickly, he smiled again, and the moment passed.

“Well, thanks again for the coffee,” he said, pulling out his wallet to pay.

You waved him off. “On the house. Consider it a welcome to Portofino.”

He looked at you, surprised but grateful. “Thanks. I’ll definitely be back.”

He held out his hand, his touch warm and firm as you shook it. “I’m Hugh, by the way.”

You smiled, feeling a slight blush on your cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Hugh.” You said before telling him your name.

With that, he left, the bell chiming softly behind him. You watched as he walked down the street, his figure disappearing into the sunlight. There was a new excitement in the air, a spark of something more than just a casual encounter.

Signora Rossi was practically vibrating with excitement. “You didn’t even ask for a picture!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’ll be back.”

As you turned back to the counter, a small smile tugged at your lips. Maybe this summer wouldn’t be so uneventful after all.

~🌻~

A few days passed, and just as Hugh had promised, he returned. He’d become something of a regular at Il Sogno, always slipping in quietly in the morning, ordering a cappuccino, and settling into his usual spot near the window with a book. You’d exchange polite smiles and brief pleasantries, but nothing more than that. He seemed to enjoy the peaceful anonymity, and you didn’t want to disrupt his quiet.

The locals, however, were not so subtle. Every time he came in, you caught people stealing glances or whispering to each other, no doubt recognizing him. But Hugh seemed unfazed, content to sit by himself, unnoticed for the most part.

~🌻~

It was a Thursday afternoon when things finally changed. The café was quieter than usual, only a couple of tables occupied by some tourists flipping through the books they’d found on your shelves. The air was warm, with a soft breeze drifting in from the open door, carrying the scent of the sea.

You were wiping down the counter when you noticed Hugh had taken a different seat than usual—this time, at the counter. He slid onto the barstool across from you, cappuccino in hand, giving you that same easy smile.

“Slow day, huh?” he asked, his voice casual as he took a sip from his cup.

“Yeah, it gets quieter after lunch. The tourists are usually at the beach by now,” you replied, setting the rag aside. It was strange to see him up close, talking to you like this, but strangely, it felt... nice. Familiar, even.

“Perfect time for a coffee, then,” he said, his gaze wandering around the café before settling back on you. “You’re lucky. This place is something special. Must’ve taken guts to move all the way from New York and start this up.”

You smiled, leaning slightly against the counter. “It wasn’t easy, but I needed the change. New York is... a lot. Portofino is the opposite—quiet, calm. Exactly what I needed.”

Hugh nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. “I know the feeling. I came here for the same reason—needed to get away for a while, clear my head.”

There was something in his tone, a hint of exhaustion hidden beneath his easygoing demeanor. You could relate—life in the city had a way of wearing people down, even someone like Hugh.

“So,” he continued, taking another sip, “have you always wanted to run a bookstore café?”

You chuckled softly, wiping your hands on a towel. “Honestly? No. I studied literature in university and always dreamed of being a writer, but... running this place has become something I love more than I expected.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “Literature major? That explains the excellent book selection here. I’ve picked up a few from your shelves already.”

You smiled, feeling a flush of pride. “I try to keep it interesting. What are you reading right now?”

He tapped the cover of The Count of Monte Cristo he had with him. “A classic. One of my favorites. What about your favorites?”

“Oh love that book! I already saw you with it one time. I have a soft spot for anything by Fitzgerald,” you admitted. The Great Gatsby... it’s been my favorite since I was a teenager.”

Hugh smiled warmly. “Ah, Fitzgerald. A romantic at heart.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said with a small laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m a sucker for those tragic love stories.”

“Well,” Hugh said, his tone teasing, “I’m not sure that’s the healthiest thing to admit.”

You laughed, the sound filling the quiet café with a warm, inviting tone. There was a spark in his eyes that made you feel more connected than ever, and you couldn’t help but notice the subtle way he leaned closer, as if the conversation was something he genuinely cherished.

“I guess I like my love stories with a bit of drama,” you replied, your eyes meeting his with a playful glint.

Hugh leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the counter. “So, does that mean you believe in happy endings, or...?”

You paused, feeling the intensity of his gaze. There was something deeply intimate in the way he looked at you, making you feel as if the café had faded away and it was just the two of you. “I think... I like the idea of them,” you said softly.

Hugh’s expression softened, and he smiled warmly. “Yeah, me too.”

The moment hung between you, filled with unspoken possibilities. The air seemed to shimmer with the promise of something more, something beyond the casual encounters of the past few days.

Just then, the door chimed again, and a group of tourists entered, their laughter and chatter breaking the spell. Hugh glanced at them, then back at you. “Looks like your peaceful café just got a bit livelier.”

You chuckled. “Looks like it. I’ll get back to work, but feel free to stay as long as you like.”

Hugh nodded, standing up. “I think I might just take you up on that at another time. I have a ticket for a tour this afternoon. But thank you for your company.”

As he left, the door chimed softly behind him. You watched him walk down the street, a part of you wishing he’d stay a bit longer. The gentle buzz of the café returned, but the earlier conversation lingered, making you smile with a mix of excitement and contentment.

~🌻~

Later that afternoon, while you were tidying up the shelves, Signora Rossi approached with a knowing smile.

“You seem quite taken with our new guest,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You looked up, surprised by her observation. “Oh, it’s not like that. We’ve just been talking.”

“Talking and talking,” she said, her grin widening. “He’s a charming man. And it’s clear he enjoys your company.”

You blushed slightly, trying to hide your smile. “I suppose he does.”

Signora Rossi’s eyes twinkled. “Well, don’t be surprised if something more comes of it. Sometimes, summer in Portofino has a way of making dreams come true.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not sure about that, but I do enjoy his company.”

~🌻~

As the days went on, Hugh became more than just a regular customer; he became a fixture in your daily routine. Each visit was marked by easy conversation and shared laughter. You started to look forward to his visits more and more, the highlight of your day.

One warm evening, as you were closing up the café, Hugh arrived. He looked slightly more relaxed than usual, as if the vacation had already begun to work its magic on him.

“Evening,” he greeted with a broad smile.

“Evening!” you responded, locking the door behind him. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just felt like enjoying the evening here,” he said, taking a seat at the counter. “Do you have any recommendations for a good spot to watch the sunset?”

You thought for a moment, then suggested a secluded spot by the harbor. “It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s worth it. Perfect for watching the sunset.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “That sounds perfect. Maybe we could go together sometime?”

You felt a flutter of excitement at the invitation. “I’d like that.”

As you finished up for the evening, you and Hugh talked about your favorite spots in Portofino, and he shared more about his travels and experiences. The connection between the two of you seemed to deepen, and as the sun set over the small town, you couldn’t help but feel that this summer was turning into something unexpectedly special.

You said your goodbyes with a promise to meet up the next day to watch the sunset. As you watched Hugh walk away into the twilight, you felt a mix of anticipation and contentment. This summer was shaping up to be far more than you’d ever imagined.

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I AM SO EXCITED TO SHARE THIS STORY WITH YOU ALL!!

(I’m sorry if some of the tags aren’t working, i tried to change them but Tumblr doesn’t let me, i’ll try again in the next chapter! )

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know ❤️

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine

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houseofripley · 11 months ago

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Hotel Hell

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Hotel - Montell Fish

Part Two Pinterest

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Overstimulation, Cunnilingus, Strap-On, Extreme Knife Play, Blood Play, Handcuffs, Rough Sex, Just Pure Filth tbh WORD COUNT: 2,586 A/N: inspired by hotel by montell fish. my brain turned to jello while making this. mood board for this below okay toodles

Room 936.

Rhea Ripleys room was always Room 936.

It was routine at this point. Show up, get your brains fucked out, leave right away. Repeat every three months.

Rhea was a brooding woman you came across as you worked at a concert venue in lower Manhattan a year and a half ago. Rhea sat alone in a balcony club booth as Bring Me The Horizon's live music blared through the concert hall.

Once the night had ended you shuffled through tab receipts, Rhea’s bill boasted a 50% tip and a scribbled phone number and address at the bottom.

That night you took the risk, catching yourself in a never ending loop.

You stepped into the room after entering the pin code. Your eyes searched for Rhea’s figure in the dark room being dimly lit up by the city lights seeping through the floor to ceiling windows.

You dropped your bag filled with a change of clothes on the floor. You learned to take an extra change of clothes as Rhea picked up a tendency of ripping your clothes to shreds.

“here.” You shot a text to the woman before placing your phone on a side table you passed as you made your way to the large windows.

Getting caught up admiring New York City you were pulled out of your trance as the cold edge of a switchblade was placed against your neck. Another hand wrapped around your waist from behind, Rhea pulled herself against your back.

“Don’t say a goddamn word” Rhea murmured inches from your ear. The woman had you frozen in fear, she had never brought a knife upon you.

Your breath anchored as the blade moved to slash both the straps of your loose slip dress. Rhea nibbled at the back of your neck as the dress slowly glided down your body.

Rhea shed her blazer and trousers off her masculine build. The woman shoved you down to your knees before pulling a nearby armchair up to the window.

“I want this whole city to watch you devour my pussy.” Rhea declared. As you slowly crawled in between her thighs as she removed her long sleeve button up.

You looked up at her as you pulled down her boxers. Your tongue trailed up her folds, your warm lips pecked Rhea’s clit. “So good” You quietly praised.

A bitter slap was placed across your face causing a whimper to escape from your mouth. “Nobody told you to fucking speak slut.” Rhea scrutinized, “Now get back to work.”

You sluggishly nodded before attaching your lips to the woman's heat. Your tongue worked in circles and trails as her hips rolled against your face.

Rhea and you held eye contact while you shook your head left and right, moaning against her heat. Something was off about Rhea tonight, there was something sinister about her demeanor.

Rhea took a firm hold onto the roots of your hair as your tongue toyed with her entrance. You hummed as you dove into her, her juices mixed with your saliva on your chin.

You worked on Rhea as her orgasm neared. She let you taste her for several more moments before yanking you way as she was seconds away from releasing onto you. Rhea had just edged herself using you as her personal toy.

She stood up, pulling you up by your hair as you whined. “Stop your fussing.” Rhea demanded, taking a grasp of your chin.

Rhea unclasped your bra and slid it down your shoulders before pulling you to the bed. She threw you towards the center of the bed before crawling up between your legs.

Your teeth bit down on the inside of your cheek as you watched her pull her switchblade from her bra. Rhea danced the blade across your thighs, the fear she sensed from you seemingly put her under a trance.

The blade pressed down against your soft thighs. Rhea shred the skin of your shaking legs, dark red blood began bubbling up from the cut.

You let out a pained whimper as Rhea’s tongue collected your blood. Your hands clung onto the sheets as Rhea left multiple cuts scattered across your thighs.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” Rhea whispered as her hands spread the blood around your legs. Her blood covered hand clasped the switchblade as she began to mangle your panties.

Bloodied fingers separated your folds, Rhea’s tongue glazed over your slick. Rhea’s eyes darted up at you, your eyes full of desperation.

“Such a tasty girl,” Rhea’s voice was menacing, it was clear she planned on destroying you tonight.

Rhea’s lips wrapped around your clit, her tongue piercing slowly rolling over your bud of nerves. Her eyes rolled back into her head as a moan left your throat.

A quiet “fuck.” exited your lips as two blood stained fingers slipped into your wetness. Your hips rocked while Rhea’s fingers pushed and pulled from inside of you, her tongue rocking against your clit.

Clusters of moans escaped you as the woman's fingers curled up inside of you. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” you hissed out, your legs squeezing around Rhea’s head. Her mouth worked like magic on you while her fingers pierced into you.

“Ah shit!” Echoed around the room as your hips twitched against Rhea’s humming lips. You whimpered out, releasing your tension onto Rhea’s fingers.

Rhea moaned as she sucked on her cum coated fingers. “Always cumming so fast for me,” She preached out. “I’m just getting started babydoll.”

You looked down at your blood coated legs, clenching your jaw as the pain began catching up to you. Rhea lurched over to the closet, bending down over her bulky overnight bag.

The woman soon returned back to you with her strap-on in one hand and a vibrating wand in her other.

She placed her strap next to her trusty switchblade. Humming as she gazed down at you she turned the vibrator on and placed it against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck Rhea,” You whined out, still fragile from you orgasm that took place moments ago.

Rhea soon joined you, lowering her core on the bulb of the vibrator. The woman let out a husked groan as she began rocking herself against the toy.

She reached for her blade, only to be stopped by your hand darting down grabbing her wrist. “Rhea please, no!” Your voice pleaded. Rhea looked down at you, pure rage covered her face.

The brooding woman lowered herself inches from your face “Let go right fucking now or I will plunge this knife right into your goddamn cunt.” Rhea threatened under her heavy breaths.

You loosened the already weak grip you had on her wrist. “That’s what I thought.” Rhea snarked tracing the blade down your sweat filled chest.

Tears glazed your eyes as the blade sank into the soft skin of your lower abdomen. You moaned out whimpers watching Rhea brand her name onto you.

“Look at you, what a pathetic bloody mess.” Rhea taunted beginning to thrust into the vibrator resting against your core.

The knot in your stomach grew larger as the toy was repeatedly pushed further against your clit.

A loud yelp rang around the room, a stream of clear liquid sprayed from your insides, soaking Rhea’s legs.

“Just way too easy.” Rhea grinned watching you attempt to jerk away from the vibrator. The more you squirmed, the more pressure she put against you. “Please no mo-'' Rhea shushed you before you were able to complete your sentence.

It was mere minutes until a pool of cum dripped out of your cunt. Rhea finally removed the vibrator from your skin. Both your legs tangled into each other as Rhea’s cunt settled onto your wetness.

Her head threw back as she grinded against your soaked core. “Can’t t-take anymore!!” You cried out.

Sweat pooled at Rhea’s forehead “Don’t lie-” grumbled out her mouth “I know you better than you know yourself…” Escaped through heavy breaths. Her fingertips dug into your waist as her orgasm approached.

The tribbing motions shortened while her speed increased. “Such a good fuck toy mmph” Rhea slurred out. Your brain was unable to process anything other than the overwhelming stimulation between your legs as pitiful moans left your mouth.

“Aagh fuck!” Rhea’s voice howled as she came undone against you. She slowly fucked herself onto you, coming down from her high.

Rhea sat back attempting to catch her breath. You tried to sit up but Rhea halted you, putting a hand on your chest. “I’m not done with you bitch.” She growled, shuffling around as she tried to get her strap-on tightened to her body.

“Fuck you,” You muttered quietly. If she wanted to push you towards your limit you were gonna piss her off as much as you possibly could.

Rhea crawled back between your legs, she rammed the black silicone into you with no care in the world how much pain she caused you. She pulled her face up to yours, the switchblade made a reappearance pressed against your throat. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” Her voice was full of fury.

“I said, Fuck. You.” You raised your voice, spitting at Rhea.

The blade pressed further into your skin, one swipe from stealing all the life inside your body.

Rhea’s hips began smashing into you, abusing your insides. Rhea’s free hand delivered a blow to your cheek. Not a slap, a cruel punch.

You cupped your injured cheek as cries escaped your mouth. Rhea backed away from your face, “You wanna act like a fucking bitch? I’ll make sure you know to never disrespect me again you stupid whore!” You had never heard Rhea’s voice this loud.

The blade was moved down your torso, ready to attack if you dared to misbehave. Rhea’s free hand took hold of your throat, squeezing at the sides.

You knew that one word could make this torture stop. She’d cut it out if you blurted out your safeword. You masochistically wanted to know how much more you could take. Your hands took hold of your tits as Rhea’s hips continued their assault on your insides, your moans loud enough you were sure you’d be receiving noise complaints.

Rhea used the flat edge of her blade to push your hand off your tits. “Whores like you don't get to touch themselves.” She stated as her strokes into you deepened.

Rhea made sure you felt her anger with every stroke.

“Tell me who owns this pussy.” Rhea murmured, smirking as she realized you were dozed off into space

You had got so caught up in pleasure Rhea had practically fucked you till you were braindead.

The blade in Rhea’s hand gashed the skin on your ribs, snapping you out of your trance. The wound was much deeper than all previous cuts Rhea had given you.

“I asked who owns this pussy slut. Use your fucking words.” It wasn’t a demand, it was a threat. Her eyes seemingly pierced through your soul.

“Fucking shit!” You yelped out, your torso recoiling in pain. “You do Rhea! You own this pussy!” Your voice rang around the room, her control over you was intoxicating.

“Good girl, hm” Rhea said as her face displayed a ‘fuck you’ grin. She closed her eyes as she took in the sounds escaping from you.

You took this moment to reach down your bloodied torso and began rubbing circles over your clit. “Fuck Rhea,” You whispered out as her eyes slowly opened.

Rheas eyes filled with rage seeing you touch yourself under her. “Stupid slut cant even listen to simple rules.” She berated before slapping down on your fresh wound. “Don’t do that!” You cried out.

Rhea pulled out of your sore hole. She got off the bed and dragged you to the edge of the mattress before flipping you onto your stomach. She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment as your blood soaked into the white sheets. Rhea soon returned with a pair of handcuffs.

She forced your hands behind your back and locked you up. “You just never fucking learn don’t you…” She taunted.

Rhea stood you up and led you over to the window. She bent you over, holding onto your restrained hands to help you keep your balance.

“Now everyone gets to see what a slut you are for me.” Rhea chuckled as she re-inserted herself into you.

A loud moan escaped you, her hips jolting into you as clapping noises began ringing through the room. “That's it take my cock,” Rhea hummed as she made sure every inch of her length was inside of you.

“Harder!” You pleaded, watching as droplets of your blood dropped down to the carpet. You squealed as Rhea’s strokes began to speed up causing you to squirt all over yourself again. “Such a needy girl,” Rhea degraded while laughing.

Rhea had put you through hell and your brain was borderline fried, you weren't able to do anything but shriek in pleasure. Your legs began quivering under your weight.

You let out a series of screams as you released everything you had left to give onto Rhea’s cock. Rhea pulled out of you slowly and admired the black silicone that had been coated with your cum.

The woman removed your handcuffs just as your legs went limp, sending you crashing to the floor. Rhea unashamedly chuckled as you groaned in pain.

You curled up on the floor trying to recover from the cruelty you had just faced as Rhea walked over to the bed and began collecting her items. Aftercare was something that did not exist in Rhea’s mind, you were her toy whether you liked it or not.

You laid down for a few moments before you stood up slowly and stumbled to your bag. “Why?” You asked as you looked at her from across the room while pulling out your change of clothes.

“Why what?” Rhea’s brows furrowed in confusion as she put her suit back on. “Why do you do this Rhea? Abuse me for one night just to leave and forget I exist for months! Why can’t I know you?!” You complained as you slid into a pair of sweatpants.

Rhea sighed in frustration, throwing her bag onto her shoulder. “Don’t ask me stupid questions like that.” She rolled her eyes as you put your hoodie on. “See you later.” She grumped before storming out the door.

You weren’t gonna tolerate this anymore. You were going to find out what she was hiding from you. Why was she keeping you in this torturous loop? What was she protecting you from?

You waited a few seconds before leaving the hotel room that had turned into a biohazard, making sure to close the door silently. Rhea took the elevator as you took the stairs.

You noticed the woman's frame exit the lobby as you reached the bottom floor. You kept your distance as you followed Rhea through the streets of Manhattan, your hand placed against the laceration Rhea had just given you.

After what felt like hours of stalking the woman she turned down a flight of stairs just outside a bodega.

You stood at the top of the stairs, your eyes glued to the black door at the bottom. “You okay? You’ve been staring at our door for like three minutes.” A man with an Irish accent interrupted you from behind. You looked up at him for a moment then returned your gaze to the door.

“What’s in there?”

#rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe smut

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 6 months ago

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Rent is a terrible musical and Jason will not be the first person in Gotham to voice this opinion

it's a musical that while having the backdrop of the story being about revolution against an upper class that refuses to make anyone uncomfortable. The status quo is not rocked so people with money can still relate.

The entire character cast are assholes, even the kindest of the main cast still murdered a dog and sang a catchy tune and had no remorse afterwards.

the show never really goes anywhere, character 's don't change and frankly don't care to.

It idealizes drug use and being poor, while there is a subplot for the homeless, there is no care shown for them and kind of implies a choice to be homeless.

That being said he was in the main cast as angel.

Jason is a hypocrite but is well aware of the fact unlike the rest of his family.

He doesn't choose the musical, the director did, and when he had a role time seems to slow down.

Being a vigilante, everything is fast paced, you need to get ducks in a row before one of the ducks takes out an third of the alley.

But to be able to shelf that mindset, even if only for the rehearsals it was nice.

That being said, artistic liberality is a thing.

To hell with angel going into the light peacefully, it ain't right for someone dying of a disease that can be treated.

If you wanted a show about romanticizing dying from a disease than you should go to the opera they tried to be with La bohème and tuberculosis.

No Jason is going to lasso his rage and put a pretty mask on it until he feels the need to put his own twist on a scene.

#dp x dc #writing prompt #dc x dp #rent the musical #derogatory #listen i got a lot of mixed emotions on this musical #it was the first time i saw queer rep in media #i still love the sound of the songs #but it is RIDDLED with flaws in a story teller's eyes #that being said my brain went “hey.. what if?”#mix up manhattan #i want Jason to tear into this musical like a rabid dog whenever someone asks but still do amazing on set #you can guess who Danny plays this time around #director: if you have such big feelings about rent than why don't you just rewrite us a play and we'll all see how you do #Jason: say less #no one's bad for liking rent #you just must be aware of it's shortcomings #All I could think about was the batfam's reaction to Jason in a casket again after his spin on Angel #they would not cope well #the reprise of “I'll cover you” will not help with everyone's confusion on if Jason and Danny are in a relationship

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metanouias · 12 days ago

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⋆ ۫ ᘡ ˖ INTRODUCING . . . skater.ᐟᅟmatt &. artist.ᐟᅟreader.

SKATER!MATT X ARTIST!READER who first met at one of manhattan’s more discreet skateparks, the sight of her dyed curls faded into an ashy pink mixed with the clunking sound of spray paint cans peeks his interest as he passed by for the umpteenth time. though, matt’s enthrallment & clumsiness couldn’t have picked better timing— the skater losing all potential balance on his custom board, slipping backwards before falling ass-first in front of her, a soft groan leaving his slightly chapped lips. it’s only when he picks up on her stifled chuckles that he looks up at her, cerulean eyes narrowing as a gentle smile makes way on his face. “oh, s’funny.. huh? aight, bet… jus’ wait ‘till my ass stops hurtin’… fuck..” matt teases, giggles of his own syncing with hers as he throws an arm over his face.

ARTIST!READER who spends most of her shift sketching into her favorite notebook. business at the library is always ridiculously slow, the already quiet atmosphere amplified by ten thousand as it retains emptiness. she places her wired earbuds in her ears, big thief playing at an inbetween volume as she pulls out her extensive collection of pens & pencils, imagination running wild. as of recently, drawings of niche & personal tattoo ideas for matt had taken over the pages. once she’s finished, she snaps a flick of the doodles, sending it to the brunette. guaranteed, he replies with an easy thumbs up emoji, one of the designs etched somewhere on his pale skin the next time they see each other.

SKATER!MATT who absolutely adores getting high w/ artist!reader, his already relaxed demeanor reduced to a mere puddle whenever they’re smoking a j together. from matt yapping about some newfound skateboard trick that he’d been trying ( & failing ) to figure out these past couple of days, large hand in hers as she paints a solid black over his nails, perfectly matching her current acrylics, to her being perched atop his lap as they makeout messily, marijuana throwing all senses of coordination out the window. it’s full of tongue & spit, his hands lazily running up and down her thighs, squeezing the flesh every other second as her own rest in his curls, tugging softly.

SKATER!MATT X ARTIST!READER who have never really been understanding when it comes the apparent norm of going out on fancy dates. not only because they’re severely lacking in the funds department but also, just imagine the couple in sophisticated dinner attire, eating fish with the head still on & oysters… absolutely not. rooftopping downtown to see the skyline or finding abandoned buildings to tag was their idea of a perfect date. & trust me, they wouldn’t want it any other way.

◡ ̃ 𓈒 ֹ ׅ evangeline rambles 𖹭ᩧ ! writer’s block officially being out the way means we’re so back eeekkk! & what better way to celebrate than to introduce my beloved, angelbabies skater!matt & artist!reader. they already mean so much to me, you have no clue! i lowkey might be rusty with writing so, please spare meeee :3 . .

#⠀ 💭⠀⠀𓂃 . ℳetanounias ⠀©#matt sturniolo #skater!matt #artist!reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo x reader

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thekissofaphrodite · 11 months ago

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OMGG!! THIS IS AMAZING!! LUKE AS A GIRL DAD IS MAKING ME FEEL SO HAPPY

Family, Luke

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Giving Luke Castellan a second chance to be a partner and the father he never was.

Warnings: Kissing, Near death experience, mentions of dead bodies and flashbacks of smut and teen pregnancy.

Author's note: This is requested! I do not support teen pregnancy, Please practice safe sex! LUKE IS 23 IN THIS TIMELINE!! and reader is 20! Luke and the reader became flings at age 19 and 18!

The battle scene was horrifying.

dead bodies of demigods who fought bravely had been scattered all around manhattan. Their divine blood staining the road, the hot scorching sun kissing their bodies.

Your breath hitched as you tried not to step on dead bodies, the putrid odour and lifeless eyes staring back at you were enough to make you gag as flies and insects crawled on the cold bodies While mumbling something incoherently, you clutched the gigantic green tumbler you brought filled with ambrosia, Your kaleidoscope eyes searching for someone.

Then, You saw him.

Luke.

His face was still handsome, even from the distance

You saw the blood pooling in his mouth while it dripped down his chin. The knife embedded under his left arm.

Without even thinking, you ran towards Luke, kneeling beside him. He was choking on his own blood,When he saw you, He smiled, His eyes gleaming with tears as he looked up at you. You came, That's what his smiled meant. the hermes boy tried to say something—But failed. His calloused palms reached your cheeks as you scrambled, opening the tumbler Cap.

"I'm here, Luke. Stay with me and hold on"

The time was ticking, and every second that had passed could be Luke's end. But the bottle wasn't cooperating. It seems like the Fates were telling you something. You used your strength to open it, glancing at Luke every second, scared and anxious.

Then, With a strong force, the tumbler opened. You smiled while you sighed in relief. Some of the ambrosia were spilt. But you couldn't care less.

You poured down the ambrosia down unto Luke's throat, not caring if his own blood mixed with the nectar. All you cared about was for him to live.

Your daughter can't grow up without a father.

The ambrosia was drunken by Luke, Despite him choking a little. You prayed to every gods you could think of to save him, He loves you and you love him, That was everything.

As the tumbler's ambrosia began to slowly empty, its contents drained down Luke's throat. The Hermes boy began to regain strength. He didn't know if the Gods still had mercy upon him..Or the Fates just played tricks, because seeing your presence after years was clearly a surprise.

Yet here you are. Caressing his soft brown curls, Waiting for him, Ever so beautiful with your soft frown filled with worry.

"C'mon, Luke..Say something" you ushered, tears threatening to spill from your kaleidoscope eyes.

He groaned, And for the first time, He said something.

"Hey Beauty," that old nickname that he called you when you two were still flings at camp halfblood rolled smoothly off his tongue, It got you tearing up, He smiled weakly as you hugged him, Luke hissed, You noticed that you squished his fresh wound. You chuckled, still sniffling whilst you helped Luke up.

Luke stumbled lightly, grasping your arms for support.

"So...Kronos, Hm?" You joked, Trying to enlighten his mood, Surprisingly, He chuckled. wiping the blood of his chin.

"I haven't seen you in years"

"Things happen, Luke." You looked away, The thought of keeping your daughter away from his still bothers you. It was maddening. So maddening, You wanted to kiss him and tell him that your daughter was waiting for him at home, desperately wanting your daughter to run up to him and whisper 'Dad'

"Hey.." He cupped your cheeks, His eyes meeting yours as you leaned against his touch, "Tell me everything, Why did you leave?" He asked.

"Remember that head counselor party that you hosted years ago? My sister snuck me with her..."

Flashback

The loud booming sound of rock music coming from the hermes cabin was enough make you cringe, let alone the very short party dress that your sister, Tania lend you, It revealed a not so friendly amount of skin on your thighs.

"Tania, can we please go back? I don't wanna go anymore, " you whispered to your older sister while pulling the dress down, She rolled her eyes and slapped your hands away.

"Out of all the hundred siblings we have, you chose me to accompany you to a party hosted by Luke Castellan himself?!" You screamed, earning a few glances from the campers, but you ignored them aside and picked up your pace, trying to keep up with your sister, Tania.

"This party happens once in a lifetime! Mr. D and Chiron are away! that makes it even better" Squeled Tania as you two reached the entrance of Cabin 11.

Suddenly, The door swung open, revealing luke castellan in a button up shirt, cargo pants and a red cup with liquor. The moment he saw you, you could've sworn you saw his eyes brighten.

"Tania! I see you brought Y/n, This is a counselor only party" Luke smirked, But Tania pulled you closer to her, Winking at Luke.

"She's gorgeous, Castellan. Make her an exception. Would you like that I brought Victoria instead—"

"—Gods no—"

"—Then let sweet y/n inside! Don't you think that I don't know about your ungodly teenage thoughts about her—" Luke pushed Tania inside as she cackled and ran towards her friends leaving you alone with Luke.

The cabin was decorated with colorful party strings and fallen confetti on the floor, Along with a wonky banner hung on the middle of the room saying; Head Counselors party! Come and join us (Companions allowed if they have atleast stolen wine from Mr. D's stash)

You chuckled. Thinking that Chris probably made that banner.

In the corner, You saw a small bar with spilled liquor and and messily scattered cups.

You poured yourself a drink, Mindlessly rocking to the booming music behind you, Then, You saw a tall silhouette towering behind you. The familiar curls on the shadows says so that it was none other than luke.

"Hey beauty, are you enjoying?" He asked, Keeping an eye on you while he sipped his drink, You nodded and did the same, Watching your sister tania flirt with a Hephaestus boy.

"Why did you let me in? you specifically said 'No companions allowed' " That question caught him off guard as he chuckled softly.

"Can I not make an exception? Tania said that afterall"

"What about those 'Ungodly thoughts' about me?"

"You mean what I imagine underneath that pretty dress of yours?" He whispered, Loud enough for you to hear.

His hands reached the strap of your red dress, He slipped it and made it fall, Revealing an excessive amount of your shoulders and neck. His long fingers caressing your neck all the way down to your breasts made you shiver. You looked around, Trying to see if anyone was watching before luke pulled you into a searing kiss, Grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist as he brought you into the bathroom.

It all happened so fast with a simple click of the door's lock.

The dress bunched up your hips, Luke's cargo pants pulled down mid thighs, His lips sucking your neck while he thrusted swiftly inside you, The skin slapping and your moans were muffled by the loud sound of music.

"Luke—"

"I know, Baby, I know just— Hold on—Fuck!" His hips shook, So did your legs as your head fell back in pleasure while his hot seed filled you up, spilling a little.

The sound of heavy panting was broke by you, Wiping the mess he made on your inner thighs.

"So, this is the ungodly thoughts?"

"mhm" He hummed quietly while tucking his shirt in, He looked at you for a moment before kissing your forehead and whispered; "I love you"

Before you could even reply, The bathroom door was shut.

——

It had been weeks since you and Luke snuck out together, It was all a blur.

He was busy tending new campers, Befriending lonely newbies and keeping his cabin on track while you were in the bathroom...Puking...

"This is what I'm telling you! Drinking booze and shit at Castellan's party is the last thing you wanna do!" Your sister Tania had scolded you, she got your hair up in a ponytail while she patted your back aggressively.

"You know what? Fuck it, I'm too busy for this shit" She groaned and left, Leaving you alone.

When the sight was clear, you pulled out a boxed pregnancy test you bought (sneaking out of the border just to buy overpriced pregnancy tests from a cheap pharmacy wasn't cool)

Shutting the bathroom stall shut, You pulled down your underwear and waited for the results.

Those five minutes were the longest of your life.

And when two lines appeared, You exhaled a breath you never knew you held.

You stared at the wall, Rethinking your life choices at the meantime, Luke was your first and Last.

He's the father.

Gathering up courage, you got up and took and took a deep breath before walking out the bathroom, towards the apollo cabin where your siblings awaits.

"Is tania here?" You asked one of your siblings, But they shook their heads, Noticing that you're pale and clammy.

"Y/n? are you sure you're alright?" Asked Gracie, but you smiled weakly and nodded.

"I'll be fine, Just a little stomach ache"

Oh it was more than that...

Your day went on with you laying on your bed, sobbing quietly inside the apollo cabin waiting for your older sister, Tania.

When she entered the cabin, You immediately wiped your tears and composed yourself, walking towards her wobbly.

"I don't have time for whatever shit you've done Y/n, I'm busy—"

"I passed a test" You said.

Her eyes then widened.

"Oh Gods..You mean— THE test for your final semester in high school? I told you you'd pass! We should celebrate! Wait— We should get some balloons and—"

"—Tania—"

"—should we invite Sophie Davies from Cabin 4? She's bitchy but fun to hang out with—"

"—It's a pregnancy test"

There was a deafening silence.

"What."

"It's a pregnancy test—"

"Shut up. I heard you the first time! Who's is it?" She whispered.

"Luke Castellan"

Your sister, Tania stepped away and shook her head.

"You're on your own now, I will not be taking care of those pathetic excuses I call a sibling, Let alone a goddamn baby" Tears spilled from your eyes as Tania slammed the door shut.

The Apollo Cabin was gloomy and dark despite it's residents and campers being offsprings of the sun, You looked around and saw her bags, It wasn't long before you're sneaking out the camp boarder, Thinking about Luke.

"I— We did... God knows what inside the bathroom, and I got—" You inhaled sharply, Your fist curled up into a ball whilst your nails dug into your skin.

"I got pregnant...I didn't know how or what to tell you..and I was a kid..and I was scared so I ran away, I ran to my father's old apartment and got a job as a waitress at this dingy old restaurant owned by married immigrants and I only make seven dollars an hour and at that time May was born and the hospital bills are insane so I gotta borrow some cash from my dad and pay it off— Gods it makes me wanna cry seeing May without a father— I can't live it up to myself— When she started kindergarten she was crying when I picked her up, And I was refraining myself to burst into tears infront of her since I need to be strong for her"

That immediate break down had Luke frozen.

All these years that you disappeared, You were struggling all alone, with your daughter you just had. He wanted to kiss you and say 'It's alright, I'm here' But isn't it too late for that now?

"You hid her away from me, Why?" His voice barely a whisper.

"I was afraid what you'll do to her the same thing happened to those halfbloods, she deserves more than that. I want to teach her who she is before your family tells her what they want her to be"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there" That's the only thing that Luk could ever say, Guilt washing all over him like pouring rain.

"You're here now. You're the hero of the great Prophecy"

"I want to be the father I never was to May" Tears rolled down his eyes as you hugged him tightly, Your head placed against his chest where you can feel his heartbeat.

"May's with my aunt.." Luke smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I wouldn't mind visiting"

There was a car honking in the distance, When the passenger door opened, It revealed your aunt carrying May.

"Look— HEY! Y/N!" Yelled your aunt as she ran towards you, May squealing as she was bounced around.

"Mommy!" Squeled the little girl as she thrashed around your aunt's arms, Begging for you to carry her.

"Is this the baby daddy?" Your aunt asked, Her brows raised and her hands on her hips looking Luke up and down.

you nudged her on her ribs and gave her a look, She rolled her eyes and got back to her car.

The little girl in your arms looked at her father, titling her head in confusion before grabbing his curls, She giggled and looked at her same curly hair tied in pigtails.

"We're the same, Hm?" Luke smiled at his daughter, The little girl gave the same smile before shyly wrapping her tiny arms around Luke's neck.

The sight of them wanted to make your heart melt.

Everything that Luke has ever done was unforgivable. But all that matters now was your family.

A/N

Hey lovies!! I finally finished a request! sorry for not posting for a long time, Believe me when I say that I snuck my phone away in class so many times just to update, but here I am! I used one of Sally's lines from the series here I hope you guys don't mind 😉

Requested by @rainestorm2556 <33

#percy jackon and the olympians #xy/n #thekissofaphrodite #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader

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odiesdayoff · 3 months ago

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Kinktober: Jonathan Crane

Pair: Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary: Gotham's more of a nightmare than it used to be and Crane has his sights on you.

Warnings: On the tin. NON-CON (Kidnapping/Restraints/Leashes/Collars/Breeding)

You poured a fresh whiskey into a short glass over ice cubes, then pushed it to another faceless man sitting at the bar. Lights were flashing and the music was a bit too loud for your liking, but money was money and the protection that the job gave you was probably the only reason you were still a free woman.

The knock on the counter brought you from your serving-induced stupor. Oswald Cobblepot. “Hey, sweetheart. Need you to work a double tonight.” He pushed aside the man drinking the whiskey.

“Tonight? Isn’t Stacey scheduled after me?” You washed the shaker cup and placed it upside down to dry. As much as you needed the money, you’d much rather get home before it got too dark and monumentally more dangerous for you.

He sighed, reaching over the counter and pouring some of the whiskey into a free glass. “Got collared. Don’t know when or if she’ll come back.” Of course, the number one reason for the girls leaving the job. Two weeks ago, the bar staff and performers totaled 50. It was now 27.

You instinctively pursed your lips and took a deep breath. The thought of what she might’ve been going through was bad enough, but the reality was the truly horrifying part. Your freedom was slightly stealth, but mostly luck. “By who?”

“Firefly. I should have you all escorted home before these schlemiels steal all my girls.” He finished his drink and slammed it against the counter. “Eh, too much money.”

A few more men sat around the bar while he walked away. Of course he was not one to waste his money on something that actually protects his staff. Too busy spending it on drops and whatever other drugs that he can sell to his customers. Asshole.

Acts as if he doesn’t have a girl collared in his house. You’ve seen her once or twice. She’s pretty, but it was clear that he did a number on her before parading her around the club. “What the hell is wrong with this city?” One of the men finally asked as you handed him a dry martini.

“What isn’t wrong with it?” You grumbled under your breath, starting on the Manhattan for another one of the men.

They laugh, a bit too loud. Clearly, this wasn’t the first bar they’d been to tonight. “No, seriously. Got mugged twice and we’ve only been here two days. All the women are on fucking leashes. Or people fucking out in the open.” He took a long sip of his drink, looking around at the debauchery still happening around the bar.

“You know how most cities have a hero? Ours was killed. Chaos ensued.” You mixed the drink, shaking the bottle. “Basically, they made a whole set of rules that give absolute control to those who fought Batman. Territory, people…you get it.”

The day that the Batman died was something you’d never forget, as if it was your life stopped at that moment the news broadcast was shown on every screen in the city. Nobody thought the Joker would be able to do it. Both Batman and the Joker were natural enemies, bound never to end their feud.

Some say it was a mistake. But the second it happened, he had his plan to create chaos and eventually, everyone else followed suit. Just as his (somewhat) partner in crime, Harley Quinn, was planning on leaving him, he locked her onto him. With the same collar she used for her pets.

He let all of the inmates of Arkham escape, taught them the new rules, and everybody else had to play catch up or try to get out of the city as fast as possible. Especially after the mayor fell. Bella Reál was ambushed in her office by the newly escaped Riddler. Nobody has seen her since.

It felt like the shift lasted forever, but you appreciated the extra tips from the more drunken customers wishing they could fuck you and knowing they couldn’t. It was raining when you stepped outside, through the back where nobody could see. You threw your hood over your head and ran in the direction of your apartment.

It was well known that it was more dangerous than normal for a woman to be out at night. More likely to get caught by a man with a little bit of power under his belt. You were cutting through the alley right outside of your apartment when someone grabbed your arm.

The man yanked you back and pushed you against the wall. “Well, well, well. It’s been a while since I saw a free woman that was this gorgeous.”

His face was familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Your panicked state overrides facial recognition. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I have nothing to give you.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if you told a joke. “Let me tell you a bit about me. I fought the Bat more than you can imagine, which gives me more than enough of a right to pin you down and take what I want." His hand cupped your cheek and a finger glided across your quivering lips. "I pride myself as a man with class, so I'm going to take you home, give you a nice meal, then I'm going to shove my dick in you."

You fought against him, though he barely showed his struggle to keep you still. "You're really going to make me do this?" He rolled his eyes and reached into the briefcase-like bag around his shoulder. He pulled out a small leather collar, swiftly bringing it over your head and slipping it onto your neck.

The tightness of the collar restricted your breathing enough to stop you from struggling to save air and he wrapped the connecting leather strap around his hand. "There you go. Now you're on a leash. Happy?"

You spat at him. "No! I'm not fucking happy!"

He tugged at the leash, effectively pulling you to the black car that waited on the curb right outside of the alleyway's opening. You wondered how long he'd been preparing for this moment. How long he knew who you were.

In the defense of Jonathan Crane, he did try to give you a nice dinner. The man cuffed you to a chair and made small talk as he cooked, then fed the meal to you. Of course, you refused it. Nothing could get you to accept this life, no matter how legal it was now.

His rough hands dragged you from the chair to the neatly made bed and he pushed you on your stomach, climbing on top of you.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, slut." He whispered hoarsely into your ear as he pulled the clothes from your body. The fabric of his pants dragged against your skin and the outline of his erection was unavoidable. "Get on your fucking hands and knees."

You had no choice but to obey, afraid of whatever he could do. Other than the obvious. He teased your opening with his leaking tip, then pushed into you without warning. His groans of pleasure drowned out the whimpers and cries coming from you.

He wasted no time in fucking you, taking what he wanted as he called it. His thrusts were hard and full of need. When was the last time he'd done something like this with someone else? Had he ever?

He wrapped the leash around his hand and pulled so that your head was up and facing the headboard. You choked, not that he showed any concern. "Bet you're used to this, huh? Leaving that club every day?"

He slapped your ass with his free hand. "Those days are over. You'll be my little housewife. Cook my meals. Wet my cock. Have my children."

He sped up, desperately chasing his high. He whimpered and laid his chest against your back, pushing himself as far as he possibly could. That's when you felt it. That overwhelming warmth inside of you that you knew could only be one thing.

"Don't think it's over now. Still have to make sure it sticks."

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #odiesdayoff #kinktober

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foreverisntenough · 2 months ago

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‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 20 - 'Be Yours ' | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.3 k

The morning light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room as you stood with Whitney, watching her transform into a bride. The stylist worked meticulously, zipping up her intricate gown, the soft rustle of beading filling the quiet air. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion well up inside you. Whitney had been through so much, and now here she was—radiant, about to step into a new chapter of her life, one that she deserved more than anyone. Tears prickled your eyes as you took it all in. She caught you wiping at your eyes, and with a soft laugh, shook her head.

“Don’t you dare start crying already. We haven’t even gotten to the ceremony yet!” But the laughter faded as Teddy, in her tiny dress, tugged at Whitney’s gown, her face lighting up.

“Mama is princess!” She exclaimed. Whitney bent down, pulling Teddy into her arms for a tight hug, kissing her forehead. The tenderness of the moment only made your emotions stronger. You had seen Whitney through every phase of her life—the highs, the lows, the struggles, and the triumphs. And now, watching her stand there in her wedding dress, about to marry the love of her life, you were overwhelmed with pride and joy for her. Whitney straightened, smoothing her dress as she turned to you with a glint in her eyes.

“What about you?” she asked, a teasing smile creeping across her face. “Do you think you’ll be next?” She raised her brow. You let out a surprised giggle, quickly wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. The weight of her question wasn’t lost on you, but in that moment, it was more about the joy you felt for her.

“Well,” you said, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, “I wouldn’t exactly say no.” Whitney grinned, eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and affection.

“I knew it,” she said playfully, leaning in for another hug, this time a little tighter. “You would say yes so goddamn fast. You’d be like ‘ah oui Judey I love you… wah wah wah.” She giggled mocking you, amplifying the dramatics and thickening your accent that wasn’t there. The moment felt surreal—being there with her on her wedding day, the two of you sharing this quiet, intimate exchange before the whirlwind of the ceremony you were set to take a helicopter out to from Manhattan to Montauk soon. You were both adults now, but it felt like no time had passed since you were younger, whispering about your dream weddings late into the night. And now, Whitney was living hers.

“Mama up now.” Teddy, eager for more attention, ran back over, clinging to her mother’s leg, her giggles filling the room. “Pleabs!” Whitney reached down to pick her up, settling her on her hip.

“What do you think, my beautiful girl?” Whitney asked, bouncing her lightly. “You think Auntie Y/N should marry Judey?” She asked sweetly. Teddy nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing as she looked at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah huh! Like mama and dada!” Teddy squealed. You laughed, giving her little nose a playful tap.

“Maybe…. Maybe one day, Ted. Maybe one day. Judey would have to ask me.” You cooed looking at Whitney to remind her just that. Whitney looked at you, her expression softening again. It took all Teddy's might not to ask for Jude right then and there but daddy had told her it was a big secret just for him, Judey, and her. So she remained hush.

“You’ll have this too, I know it. And when it happens, I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.” She whispered. Her words touched something deep within you. You smiled, swallowing down the lump of emotion in your throat, and nodded.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The morning buzzed around you as everyone finished getting ready, but that moment between the two of you—between old friends, sisters in spirit—was one you’d hold onto forever. Watching her step into her future felt like watching a piece of your own heart move forward too, and you knew that no matter what, you’d both be there for each other, for every step of the journey ahead.

The waves lapped gently against the Montauk shoreline, the soft murmur of the ocean providing a serene backdrop as you watched Trent and Whitney exchange their vows. The scene was almost too perfect— the horizon stretched endlessly, the sun low and golden in the sky, casting a warm glow over the gathering. The sound of their voices, filled with love and promise, drifted through the air, each word sealing their future together. It was all perfect frankly just as perfect as they were. You sat there beside Jude, his presence grounding you in the moment. But as you looked at Trent, standing there so sure, so devoted, something stirred inside you. It wasn’t just about the beauty of the wedding or the romance of it all; it was about the feeling that had been slowly bubbling up inside you for some time now. The certainty that you and Jude were more than just together. You were meant for each other. Without thinking, you turned your head slightly toward him, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, quiet but sure.

“Jude…” He looked over at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern.

“You okay?” he whispered back, his hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. Your heart pounded, your fingers trembling slightly in his. You leaned in closer, your voice so soft it was barely audible over the sound of the waves.

“I want to be yours.” Jude’s gaze softened immediately, his lips parting in surprise before he quickly recovered. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“You are,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection, as if it was the most obvious truth in the world. “You’ve always been mine." A shiver ran down your spine, not from the breeze that carried the scent of the sea, but from the weight of his words. The salt air mixed with the warmth of Jude’s cologne, the earthy, musky scent wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. It was intoxicating—Jude’s presence, the summer air, the emotion of the moment—it all swirled together, making your head spin in the most delicious way. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, leaning into him as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you closer. His hand sliding crossed your exposed back in your dress. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing as he held you there, close to him, as if you were the most precious thing in the world. The sound of Trent and Whitney’s vows carried on in the background, but all you could focus on was Jude—the way his touch seemed to soothe every nerve, the way his whispered words anchored you in place. You were his, and he was yours. And in that moment, beneath the open sky, with the sea stretching endlessly before you, it felt like the world had aligned just for the two of you. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him, catching the soft curve of his smile as he gazed out at the ceremony. His fingers gently traced circles on your back, his touch as calming as the waves. You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the strength of his arm around you, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt perfect. You were his, and there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

And so later into the evening as you stood by Jude, watching Trent and Whitney share their first dance as a married couple, the ambiance was filled with love and joy. The soft melodies floated through the air, and the sight of the newlyweds lost in their own world was enough to make anyone’s heart swell. You expected Jude to lean in and crack a joke about Trent’s dance moves, but instead, he turned to you, his expression serious yet tender.

“What do you think, hmm?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the couple, but his focus was undeniably on you. Jude was a little drunk at this point and he couldn’t bite his tongue. He spent all last night thinking about how he would want to propose and now it felt like he couldn’t shut up about it indirectly. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sudden change in tone.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you replied, trying to keep the mood light. But your heart raced at the implication of his question. Was he genuinely curious about your thoughts on the wedding or was he hinting at something more personal?

“C’mon now,” he urged, his voice low as he leaned a little closer. “It sounds good, doesn’t it? Y/N Bellingham—I can already hear it. Be like my missus,” he said, a playful grin creeping onto his face, but there was a glimmer of something more serious behind it. You felt your cheeks flush at his words. A teasing, light-hearted joke or a hint at a future? You weren’t sure, but either way, the mere thought sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“You’d just have to ask,” you whispered cheekily as a reminder to him, trying to maintain your composure, but inside, your mind was racing with possibilities. Unbeknownst to you, just the night before, Jude had been sharing his thoughts with Teddy. The two of them sharing a conspiratorial whisper back in Manhattan. But back in the present, Jude’s gaze was steady, searching yours for any sign of what you might be thinking. As you turned your attention back to Trent and Whitney, your heart fluttered at the thought of possibly sharing a similar moment with Jude one day. You imagined your own first dance, and the thought of being his forever made you smile.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Jude asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he nodded towards the couple.

“Probably how lucky they are,” you mused, taking a moment to catch your breath. “I mean, look at them. They’re so happy. You can’t buy those smiles.” You cooed gently.

“Trent did.” Jude cheekily quipped. You bit back a giggle and glared at him for ruining your soft moment. Jude shrugged an apology but then nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah, they do though, angel. And you know what?” He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, and you could see the sincerity there. “I want that. I want that with you, Y/N. I want us to be that happy.” Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, and you felt warmth spreading through you.

“Yeah, me too, Jude. That sounds nice. More than anything,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but filled with all the emotions you had yet to voice fully. He smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Then let’s make sure we get there, yeah? One dance at a time.” As the music swelled around you, you felt the magic of the moment sink in, knowing that whatever came next, you would face it together. And with that thought, you took a step closer to Jude, ready to create your own memories, one dance at a time.

You and Jude were set with a task that evening sneaking into Trent and Whitney’s room, setting it up for their wedding night. The atmosphere was intimate but simple—just a few candles, creating a soft glow in the dim lighting. It wasn’t over-the-top, but it was romantic enough to make it special for them. Whitney would hate anything more but anything less would feel too mundane And so, as you placed the final candle on the nightstand, Jude came up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist.

“Think we should leave them some condoms?” His chin rested on your shoulder as he teasingly asked you with a smirk.

“Oh yeah. Do you even have any?” You turned around with a mock-serious expression.

“Nah, forgot.” Jude laughed, shaking his head. You smiled knowingly.

“I don’t think they’re planning on using any tonight or ever… or have ever.” You giggled. Jude raised an eyebrow, a with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“More Teddysss!” He sang as he playfully swayed with you in his arms, his voice light and teasing. You laughed, shaking your head at his silliness, but then he asked, a bit more seriously, “Do you want babies?” The playful tone faded, and something deeper settled between the two of you. He hadn’t meant it to be so heavy, but the question lingered in the air, the implications hitting you harder than you expected. Your laughter quieted as the thought of it truly sank in. Babies. A future with him. The idea filled your chest with warmth, but also a strange kind of nervousness, like you were standing on the edge of something bigger than the both of you. Jude didn’t seem to notice at first, still smiling, but when you didn’t respond right away, he looked at you more closely. His arms stayed wrapped around you, but his expression softened, sensing the change in your mood. “Hey,” he said quietly, turning you gently to face him, his hands slipping down to hold yours. “I didn’t mean to—” You shook your head, interrupting him.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured him, but your voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “I just… I don’t know, I never really thought about it like that. With anyone before.” Jude’s gaze softened even more. He tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“But you’ve thought about it with me?” Your eyes met his, and suddenly everything felt very real. There was something about the way he was looking at you—like he could see a future, a life where the two of you built something together the way Trent had spoken about it all last night. And the idea didn’t scare you as much as it once might have.

“I have,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Jude smiled, pulling you closer. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as he held you tightly against him.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured into your hair, his words sending a wave of warmth through you. The room was quiet now, just the flicker of candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls. Jude didn’t push any further, sensing that the conversation had already gone deeper than either of you had anticipated. But there was a comfort in it, in knowing that the future—whatever it held—was something the two of you could talk about. Something you could figure out together. For now, though, it was just the two of you, standing in the quiet, wrapped up in each other, the future a distant but not unwelcome thought.

After all the festivities, the wedding, and the whirlwind of emotions, it felt surreal to be lying next to Jude in bed finally. Everything had been so full of life and celebration, and now the silence between you both felt thick, like the weight of unspoken thoughts was pressing down on you. You were cuddled up close to him, your head resting on his chest, but your minds were racing in different directions. His fingers absentmindedly stroked your arm, but his thoughts were far away—wrapped up in the future. The weight of the past few days, the conversations about marriage and children, after having gotten tattoos for each other, lingered in the back of both your minds. Jude was still thinking about Teddy’s innocent question at the wedding, her excitement when he told her he was going to ask you. The promise he made to her felt more real than ever. He had always known he wanted you, but now that the idea of asking you had been planted, he couldn’t stop wondering how he would do it. Would it be the perfect moment? Would he catch you by surprise? What if you said no, or what if you weren’t ready? The uncertainty gnawed at him, though deep down, he knew your connection was solid. He turned his head slightly, looking at you as you lay peacefully, your breathing steady but your mind clearly not at ease. He wondered if you were thinking the same things. What did you want? Would you want to marry him? What kind of life did you imagine? His thoughts swirled further—where would you live? In Madrid, Paris so you’d be mildly closer, or maybe you’d want to stay here forever? The questions stacked up like bricks, building a future that seemed close yet still distant. You, too, were feeling the weight of those same thoughts. Marriage, children—it had all come up so fast, and suddenly the future seemed like it was looming in front of you, asking you to make decisions you hadn’t fully prepared for. You loved Jude, there was no doubt about that. But the enormity of what those next steps would mean, how they would shift the dynamic of your life together, was beginning to settle into your bones. The quiet stretched on, neither of you daring to break it, as if saying something would make everything too real, too soon. But there was also a comfort in being wrapped up in each other like this, knowing that you didn’t have to rush anything. The love you shared was strong enough to hold these conversations, these uncertainties.

“Angel… You okay?” After a while, Jude broke the silence, his voice soft and low. You nodded against his chest, squeezing him a little tighter.

“Yeah… just thinking.” You cooed.

“Me too,” he admitted, his fingers still gently tracing patterns on your arm. A pause. “About… everything?”

“Yeah. It’s just… a lot, isn’t it?” You hummed.

“It is,” he agreed. “But… I don’t know. I’m not scared of it.” His words settled over you like a warm blanket, comforting in their simplicity. You tilted your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting in the dim light of the room. There was a kind of clarity in his gaze, an assurance that you both would figure this out—whatever it was. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

“I love you more,” you replied, the weight of everything suddenly feeling a little lighter. You both let the silence take over again, your minds still buzzing but a little less frantic, knowing that whatever came next, you would face it together.

You had a few days planned in New York after the wedding, some of which you had decided to stay out in Montauk for. It was your first full morning out there after the wedding, and you woke up early with the sound of the waves gently crashing in the distance. The sun peeked through the curtains of Whitney and Winnie’s family’s summer home you were all staying in, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. You were excited to get out to the beach, but Jude was still half-asleep, his arm draped lazily across your waist, pulling you closer into him. He muttered something under his breath and nuzzled his face into your neck, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Don’t wanna get up,” he grumbled, tightening his grip as you tried to wiggle out of bed. You giggled softly, giving him a playful pout.

“But it’s so nice out! Come on, let’s go to the beach, baby.” He groaned dramatically, pulling you back down into the bed and wrapping both arms around you like a human blanket.

“Stay,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder, his voice soft and sleepy. “We don’t need to go anywhere… just stay here with me.” You rolled your eyes, but there was something sweet about the way he clung to you.

“Jude, you’re hungover and sleepy,” you teased. “I’ll go without you if I have to. If we’re at the beach, I’m going.” He peeked one eye open at you and smirked.

“You wouldn’t…” He playfully teased.

“I would,” you teased back, wriggling free from his hold and standing up. “If I’m staying in bed, I’ll change back into pajamas.” You cooed almost as a threat as you slipped into your bikini, you felt Jude’s eyes on you, and before you could fully finish getting dressed, he groaned again, louder this time, and grabbed your waist, pulling you back into bed with a dramatic sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll come. Can’t have you putting anymore clothes on around me than this.” You laughed as he finally dragged himself out of bed, grumbling playfully under his breath. Once you both got down to the beach, though, the salty air and the sight of the sun reflecting off the water woke Jude up completely. It was like a switch flipped, and suddenly, he was full of energy, running ahead of you, his hangover seemingly forgotten.

“You’re such a little boy,” you teased, watching as he jogged toward the shore, his excitement contagious.

“Come on, angel, get in the water with me,” Jude called, turning back with that wide, boyish grin you loved. He splashed his feet in the shallow waves, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. You smiled, settling onto the towel, the warmth of the sun sinking into your skin.

“Nooo, baby,” you giggled, shaking your head as you stretched out lazily. “I’m good here, just laying in the sun.” Jude gave you a mock pout, his hands resting on his hips.

“Pleaseee?” he begged, trying to convince you with that puppy-dog look that always worked. You couldn’t help but laugh, sitting up slightly to look at him.

“Go in the ocean without me,” you smiled, waving him off. “I’ll watch you from here.” He groaned dramatically, but there was a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

“Fine, but don’t think I’m not dragging you in at some point,” he teased before running into the water, splashing around like a kid. As you watched him, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Jude’s playful energy, the sound of the waves, the warmth of the sun—it was all perfect. You could hear him gasp at waves as they rolled in echoing over the water, and you couldn’t stop smiling as you laid back on your towel, soaking in the moment. It was like you could feel it was one of those perfect summer afternoons, the kind where the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, the ocean was a shade of navy blue only the east coast of the US had, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore melted away every worry in your mind. You could feel the soft terry cloth beneath your back, soaking in the warmth of the sun, your skin tingling with the mix of suncream and salty sea air. The soft breeze brushed your face as you closed your eyes, the world fading into the background. Jude had stayed in the water, swimming and splashing about, he’d call your name out occasionally reaching your ears over the sounds of the ocean begging you to come in but you continued to decline. You were in that blissful in-between state, half-asleep, half-aware of everything around you, when you finally heard his footsteps padding up from the shore. You stirred, thinking about sitting up, but Jude quickly stopped you.

“Wait, wait, stay right there,” he said softly, a playful seriousness in his voice. “Don’t move.” Curious, you smiled but stayed where you were, letting your body sink further into the towel. You could hear him rustling around in the sand nearby, collecting something, but you weren’t sure what he was up to. After a few moments, you felt the gentle touch of his fingers, placing something small and cool against your arm. You peeked through your lashes and saw he was outlining your body with seashells. “Stay, just hold on, angel,” he insisted, eyes twinkling with concentration as he carefully placed the shells in a delicate pattern around you. You couldn’t help but giggle at how serious he was being, but you held still, watching him work. It was a simple thing, but there was something so sweet about the way he was so focused on creating his little masterpiece. After a while, though, you grew impatient. He was taking his time, and you wanted him close.

“Judey,” you called softly, “just come here,” You giggled. Without waiting for him to finish, you grabbed his arm and tugged him down onto the towel with you, laughing as he fell beside you. His brow furrowed with a pout initially l. “Did I ruin your art, baby?” You asked him almost patronizingly.

“You are my art,” He mused, pulling you closer and kissing you. He smiled into the kiss, the sun warm on both of your faces as you lay together in the soft sand. The shells he had so carefully placed were forgotten as the two of you lay there, wrapped up in each other, the summer sun and the sound of the waves creating the perfect backdrop. The world beyond the beach seemed to disappear, and in that moment, all that mattered was the two of you—together, tangled in love, the ocean and sky stretching out before you. The connection between you felt effortless, like this moment could stretch on forever. The smell of saltwater, sunscreen, and his familiar scent all mingled together, creating a feeling of perfect peace. The warmth of the sun and the softness of the sand beneath you made everything seem light and easy. As Jude settled down next to you, his head propped on one arm, he gazed at you with that look of pure adoration that made your heart flutter. He shifted the conversation to something more serious, his voice low but sincere.

“You know I was serious the other day… about you getting a gallery in Madrid. I really think you could do it. You could expand to have a second location. It would be amazing.” You giggled, a little shy under the weight of his suggestion.

“I don’t know if my brand is big enough for an international market,” you teased. “I’m not exactly a household name yet.” He smiled softly, shaking his head.

“Nah, you could. But could come be in Madrid more. I’m not asking you to move for me. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I just… I want you to know I’m thinking about it. Us.” Your heart melted at his words, his thoughtfulness clear in every syllable. You shifted a little, turning to face him fully.

“Jude, I know you’d never ask me to move for you but it’s nice to know you’d want me there and maybe that’s part of why I’ve been thinking about it.” His eyebrows rose in surprise, his eyes lighting up as he processed your words.

“You’ve been thinking about moving?” You nodded, smiling as you watched his face.

“Yeah… for you. I mean, it would be a big change for me, but I’ve thought about it a lot. I’d want to be with you more, and Madrid is beautiful, you’re not so bad. It could be a little adventure.” Jude’s face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes bright with excitement and disbelief. He shifted closer, his hand resting on your waist as if grounding himself in the moment.

“You’d really do that? You’d move to Madrid for me… because angel… I don’t want you to feel like… wow— you’d really come?” You nodded, feeling the warmth of the sun and the warmth of his happiness blending together, wrapping around you both.

“Yeah, I would.” His lips found yours again, a little more urgently this time, the kiss filled with gratitude, excitement, and something deeper—like he knew this was the beginning of a new chapter for both of you.

“I love you so much.” When he pulled back, he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

After awhile Jude’s body lay sprawled across yours, his head resting on your stomach, his face smushed against your warm skin as he murmured sweet nothings. His voice was soft and low, talking about how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, just babbling in a gentle, almost sleepy rhythm. You know the way a boy only talks to his girlfriend. A way he’d be mortified if anyone else heard.

“You’re so beautiful, angel… like, the most beautiful, angel,” he mumbled, his words slurring slightly as he continued. “I’m so lucky… you know that? So, so lucky becuase you’re mine..” You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers scratching gently on his scalp as he went on, lost in his little world of affection. It was so sweet in this sort of baby boy talk —until you noticed a shadow fall over you. Glancing up, you saw Winnie walking down from the house, her brow raised in amusement. Winnie sat down next to you, clearly hearing some of Jude’s rambling. You stifled a giggle, trying not to give away her presence just yet. Jude, completely oblivious, kept going.

“God, I love you so much. You’re sooo perfect, angel. Just want you with me all the time. Wanna cuddle all day with my baby,” he babbled, his voice full of affection. You let out a soft giggle, and that was when Jude finally noticed. He froze, lifting his head slightly, and then he saw Winnie sitting there, smirking.

“Oh my fucking God,” Jude cursed, his eyes widening in sheer horror. “I’m gonna die.” He groaned loudly, dropping his head back onto your stomach in embarrassment. Winnie laughed, shaking her head. “Why did you let me keep talking!?” He asked you mortified.

“Because ‘Youre so perfect, angel.’” Winnie teased him, smiling uncontrollably, mimicking his lovesick tone and brummie accent.

“I hate you both. I actually hate you both.” Jude let out another groan, his face buried against your skin as he whined.

“Aww it’s okay, Jude. You’re just soooo in love with your baby,” Whitney teased, pinching at him playfully. Jude pushed himself up, shaking his head in mock frustration before suddenly scooping you up into his arms.

“Yeah, well guess who’s going in the water now,” he grunted, his lips curving into a mischievous smile as you screamed in surprise.

“Jude, no!” you squealed, wiggling in his arms as he carried you toward the ocean. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t!”

“You should’ve thought of that before,” Jude teased, laughing as he stepped into the waves. Before you could protest again, he dropped into the water, taking you under with him. You came up sputtering and laughing, splashing him as he stood there, his grin wide and unrepentant. He pulled you close, water dripping off both of you as you tried to catch your breath, both of you laughing under the bright summer sun.

“I just like hearing that you love me,” you said, your tone teasing but soft. As you gasped for air, still giggling, you gave Jude a playful pout. Jude, his face still slightly flushed from the embarrassment, shook his head with a smirk and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as the water swayed gently around both of you.

“You know how much I love you, angel,” he whined, still cringing at the memory of Whitney overhearing him. You grinned, squeezing him in a tight hug, planting soft kisses along his neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered between giggles, “but it’s cute, and I love you.”You cooed. His embarrassment started to melt away under your affection, and he sighed, resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re lucky you’re so beautiful,” he murmured with a grin. You tilted your head, eyes wide with faux innocence.

“Then, you should carry me back.” You cooed. He pulled back slightly, looking at you like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“Erm.. No.” he laughed, shaking his head. You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip.

“But you carried me down here,” you reasoned, “and I am beautiful.” Jude groaned, running his hand down his face.

“You’re too beautiful,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his playful annoyance. With a resigned sigh, he bent down and scooped you up again, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist. You giggled, burying your face in his neck as he started trudging back through the water, his breath heavy from both effort and amusement.

“This is why I love you,” you teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, holding you tightly as he carried you back toward the shore, the sound of the waves crashing behind you.

You and Jude were waiting at the airport to return to Madrid after a few days, the hum of travelers and the muffled announcements filling the air. Jude stood a few steps away, absorbed in something on his phone, while you sat quietly watching people pass by in a lounge. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a little boy lingering nearby, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, clearly working up the courage to approach Jude. The sight tugged at your heart a bit. You could tell he was starstruck, maybe a little intimidated by Jude’s presence. With a soft smile, you gently tapped Jude’s arm to get his attention.

“Hey, baby,” you said, nodding toward the boy. Jude looked up from his phone and turned to the boy, his tall frame towering over him with a smile. The little boy’s eyes went wide as he looked up at Jude, frozen in awe.

“Do you want me to take a picture for you?” you asked, your voice warm and sweet, trying to ease the boy’s nerves. He nodded silently, too shy to say anything. Jude, noticing his nerves, gave him an encouraging smile.

“Yeah? Go on, come here, mate,” Jude said, beckoning the boy closer. The boy hesitated for just a moment before stepping forward. Jude greeted him warmly, wrapping an arm around his small shoulders, leaning down slightly so they were at eye level. Just as you were about to take the picture, the little boy whispered something you could just make out.

“Your girlfriend’s pretty and nice,” he said, his voice almost lost in the noise of the airport. Jude laughed, the sound genuine and light.

“Yeah, she’s great, mate. I’m a lucky lad,” he responded, glancing over at you with a soft smile that sent warmth through your chest. As the boy beamed up at Jude, you snapped the photo. But Jude wasn’t just thinking about the compliment. It went deeper than that. Watching you, sitting there so kind and patient, embracing his world without hesitation—it hit him that you were everything. You didn’t just accept his fame, you handled it with grace and warmth, making everyone around him feel at ease, even when he wasn’t sure how to. You were kind-hearted, understanding, and in that moment, he realized how perfect you truly were for him. As the boy thanked him and ran off to his parents, Jude walked back over to you. His eyes lingered on yours a bit longer, that soft smile still tugging at his lips, and in his mind, all he could think was how lucky he was to have you by his side.

You were finally back in Madrid. The warm breeze floated in through the open windows, filling the room with the scent of the sun-drenched day outside. The white bedding was soft and fluffy, almost glowing in the sunlight that streamed in, casting golden beams across the cool sheets. Your tanned skin contrasted beautifully against the pristine fabric, long forgotten were those itchy sheets of James… or maybe it was John, the warmth of the sun lingering in the air but balanced by the coolness of the breeze. Everything felt light, calm, and perfect, like this could be the rhythm of your life—a gentle, sunlit day, waiting for Jude to come home. You had just closed your laptop, trying to ease a nervous flutter in your chest when you heard the door downstairs. Moments later, Jude stepped into the room, his face lighting up when he saw you. He crossed the room and hugged you from behind, pressing a kiss into your hair, the familiar scent of him grounding you for a moment. His embrace was warm, strong, and exactly what you needed.

“How’s my baby?” he murmured softly, his breath tickling your ear. You smiled, leaning into him, though your nerves from the upcoming series interview still lingered in the back of your mind. He sensed it before you even spoke, his hand gently stroking your arm. “You nervous about the taping?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

“No, not really.” You tried to sound casual. But you were lying, and Jude knew it. He tilted his head, brushing his lips softly against your temple.

“Angel… I promise, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be with you the whole time,” he whispered, tightening his hold around you as if he could shield you from the pressure building up inside. You sighed, turning in his arms to face him fully.

“What if I say the wrong thing? Like… am I even supposed to say I’m your girlfriend?” you asked, the anxiety finally slipping into your voice. Jude grinned, playfully teasing you to ease the tension.

“Nah, you don’t have to say that,” he chuckled softly. “You could say love of my life, most perfect woman in the world… whatever feels right,” he added with a mischievous smirk. You groaned, playfully swatting at his chest. It was subtle but Jude’s peeled off his shirt.

“Jude!” you whined, your nerves easing just a little as you leaned against him. “I’m serious.” He laughed, his hands slipping down to your waist, holding you a little tighter.

“Angel, relax,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, taking on that teasing edge you knew too well. Suddenly your joggers were off. His hands began to roam, tracing lazy patterns against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me help you relax.” His lips ghosted over your neck, and you could feel his mischievous smile against your skin as you yelped his name in protest, though deep down, you were already melting into his touch. Now all clothes were gone. He knew just how to calm your nerves, pulling you deeper into the comfort of this perfect moment, where nothing else mattered but the two of you, the sun, and the soft sheets beneath you. “Just relax f’me.” He cooed, his breath warm against your ear, sending a tingling sensation down your neck. You smile, feeling his strong, muscular body against yours, the soft cotton sheets barely covering his tanned skin. His brown eyes sparkle with mischief as he notices your satisfied smile. "You really don’t need to stress" he says, his voice deep and sensual. "You’ve got me." With that, he started to gently massage your shoulders, his strong hands working their magic on your tired muscles. You sigh contentedly, letting your worries melt away under his skilled touch. Jude's fingers dance across your skin, tracing lazy circles on your back, making you squirm with pleasure. "Relax, angel," he cooed, his lips brushing against your temple. "Let me just get rid of all this stress." As his hands glide down your spine, you feel your body responding to his touch, a familiar warmth building between your thighs. You arch your back slightly, pressing your tits against his chest, enjoying the sensation of his firm nipples against your sensitive skin. "Mmm, see? You’re already feeling better, huh?" Jude purred, his hands now sliding down to cup your full, round boobs. He thumbs your erect nipples, causing you to gasp and squirm. "See I gotcha angel" He smirked. You reached up and pulled him closer, your lips finding his in a slow, sensual kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting the sweetness of your desire. Breaking the kiss, you looked into his eyes, seeing the same hunger reflected back at you.

"I want you to fuck me, Jude. Show me I'm yours," you whisper, your voice hoarse with need. "But I want you to go slow, take your time with me." You smiled with wide eyes filled with both a bit of innocence laced with lust. Jude's hands traveled down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He knelt between your legs, his eyes fixed on your core, now glistening with anticipation. With a gentle touch, he parts your folds, exposing your swollen clit to the warm morning air.

"You're so wet, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Let me taste you." And with that, he lowers his head, his tongue flicking across your sensitive bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your back arched off the bed as his mouth teased and pleased you, his tongue delving deep inside your pussy, lapping up your sweet juices. You gripped his hair, holding him close, as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Just when you though you couldn’t take any more, Jude stops, his breath hot against your throbbing clit.

"Not yet, angel," he teased, his fingers replacing his tongue, circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. He slid one long finger inside your tight, wet pussy, his thumb continuing to work your clit. You moaned, your hips rising to meet his touch, your body desperate for release.

"Please, Jude," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. In response, he added another finger, stretching you, filling you, his thumb never ceasing its relentless assault on you. You're on the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasm, when he suddenly stops again, leaving you panting and desperate.

"Shhh, angel… you said you wanted me to take my time.” He smirked. “We have all the time in the world," he reassured you, his voice soothing your frayed nerves. "Just want you to cum on my cock instead, yeah?" You nodded as Jude positioned himself above you, his hard cock brushing against your wet entrance. He teased you, rubbing the head of his dick along your slit, coating himself with your juices, before slowly, oh so slowly, pushing inside. You gasped as he filled you, inch by glorious inch, his cock thick and hard, stretching you in the most delicious way. He set a slow, sensual rhythm, his hips moving in a gentle, rocking motion, his eyes never leaving yours. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N," he groaned, his voice strained as he fought for control. "So tight and warm. I could fuck you forever." You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel every inch of him. Your hands roamed over his muscular back, feeling the play of his powerful muscles as he moved within you. The pace quickened, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, your moans and cries filling the room. You were close, so fucking close, when Jude pulled out, his cock glistening in the sunlight covered in you and flipped you onto your hands and knees. "I want you like this f’me. I know you love taking me like this" he panted, his voice thick with desire.

“Please please Jude. Fuck me, make me cum all over you cock. I want you to fuck me til your cums dripping out of me.” You whined desperate as he kept edging you. You eagerly presented your wet pussy, your ass raised high, back arched, your tits hanging tantalizingly below you. Jude entered you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely, his balls slapping against your clit with each stroke. You cried out, the new angle and the depth of his penetration sending you into a frenzy. "Oh fuck, Jude, fuck me!" you begged, your words punctuated by his deep, relentless thrusts. Jude reached around you, his fingers finding your swollen clit. He began to rub it in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation was too much, and you came apart in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to scream his name. Jude followed quickly, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep within you, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his body shuddering with release. As your heart rates return to normal, you collapsed onto the bed, your bodies still joined, the sun still streaming in. As he pulled out you turned to Jude, a satisfied smile on your face, and pulled him close, kissing him deeply.

"I think I’m relaxed now," you whispered, snuggling into his strong embrace. "Thank you,” you giggled. He smiled, his eyes full of adoration.

"I love you so much.” He told you and your heart fluttered as you laid on the bed still havening trouble breathing, your skin covered in a slight sheen. You moved your fingers to intertwine with Judes. You were sore after that one but it was a nice sort of pain and to be honest, you were a little too fucked out to really notice it anyways. “You alright, angel?” Jude squeezed your hand.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, slightly falling into a sleepy daze. You lay curled up in Jude’s arms, the cool breeze from the open windows brushing over your skin as the two of you lay entangled. The exhaustion from your earlier passionate moments left a pleasant heaviness in your limbs, but the comfort of being close to him made you feel completely at ease. Jude’s fingers gently traced patterns along your back as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his voice soft and tender.

“I want to be with you forever,” he murmured, his words slow and deliberate, like he was giving each one extra weight. “ Would you want that?” He asked almost sheepishly like as the words came out he got nervous you’d say now. You nodded though to his relief, your head nestled against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Yes please,” you whispered, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him still lingering in the air. His arms tightened around you as if he was afraid to let go. Jude’s lips grazed your temple again before he asked, his voice filled with concern,

“Promise you’re okay after… all of that?” He smirked but his tone held a softness that told you he wanted to make sure you were genuinely all right after the intensity of your earlier moments together. You nodded again, but he wasn’t having it. “I need real words, angel,” he teased lightly, though there was an edge of seriousness in his voice. You smiled, lifting your head to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reassured him softly. “I want you forever, and I definitely want what we just did forever.” You giggled. He smiled, clearly satisfied with your response, his eyes warm as he held your gaze.

“Good,” he murmured, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Want to get cleaned up?” He asked gently. You groaned in protest, burying your face back into his chest.

“Nooo,” you whined playfully, snuggling closer. “Just want a cuddle and a nap.” Jude laughed softly, his chest rumbling beneath you, as he pulled you even closer.

“Alright, angel. You can have whatever you want. You can have a nap and a cuddle from me,” he whispered, his voice fading into a hum as you both drifted into a peaceful, contented quiet.

You and Denise sat in the sunlit kitchen, the hum of Madrid in the distant background. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, of course made from the beloved French press, swirled in the air, but your mind was far from settled. You’d been running over this conversation in your head for days now, and even sitting here with Denise, who’d become something of a second mother to you, you couldn’t shake the anxiety that gnawed at your thoughts. She watched you carefully, sensing something deeper behind your polite smile and quiet fidgeting.

“Can I ask your opinion on something?” you began, hesitant, your voice almost trembling. You looked up from your cup, feeling the weight of the words already forming in your mind. Denise set her coffee down, leaning in slightly, her eyes soft with concern.

“Of course, love. What’s on your mind?” You took a breath, trying to find the right way to explain everything that had been racing through your head.

“Jude wants me to be in the series,” you finally said, a nervous smile flickering across your face. “I mean, like properly be in it. And it’s not that I mind the idea, but I’m just… apprehensive. I keep thinking about how things could change for him.” Denise furrowed her brow slightly, listening intently.

“What kind of changes are you worried about?” She asked. You sighed, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup.

“If I’m publically stamped as his girlfriend,” you began slowly, “everything’s going to be different. People will start making assumptions. Every time he’s seen with another woman, they’ll say he’s cheating, or there’ll be all this gossip. And Jude… I mean, he’s just so trusting. I don’t think he realizes how bad it could get. I don’t want that kind of pressure to mess with his head or affect his game.” Denise’s expression softened as she listened, understanding the depth of what you were saying. She reached over, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Hun, I hear you,” she said kindly. “You don’t want to say yes to the shoot, and then down the line, Jude feels boxed in by the public scrutiny. That’s a real concern.” She cooed. You nodded, grateful that she seemed to get it.

“Exactly. And I don’t want him to feel like he has to choose between his career and me, or like his life is going to become more of a circus because of my feature in a show.” Denise smiled sympathetically.

“I can see why you’d be worried. It’s a big step. But the only way you affect his performances is when you’re not here. The way I see it, he’s not trying to hide you because he’s embarrassed or anything like that. Jude’s protective of you, sure, but I think he’s reached a point where he’s proud to show you off. He loves you, hun. He’s not going anywhere.” You felt your chest tighten, but this time it was more from emotion than anxiety.

“I guess I just don’t want to make things harder for him,” you murmured, your voice small, almost as if you were admitting something you hadn’t even fully realized until now. Denise gave you a soft smile, her gaze unwavering.

“I think Jude would feel like having you by his side is worth any challenge that comes with it. And as far as pressure goes—look, he’s already dealing with it. Football, fame, it all comes with expectations. But you two have something real, and I think that’s stronger than any of the noise that’s out there. You’re his balance. His constant.” Her words hit you deeply, and you felt the knot of anxiety in your stomach begin to slowly unravel. It wasn’t just about you worrying over what people would say, but about how Jude would handle the inevitable attention. Yet Denise’s words carried a truth you couldn’t deny. He wasn’t asking this of you lightly. He was ready to share this part of his life because he wanted to share it with you. You nodded, the overwhelming weight of your thoughts lightening ever so slightly.

“I guess I just don’t want to be the reason things get complicated.” Denise chuckled softly, her hand still resting over yours.

“Oh, love, you’ve been with him this long—through ups and downs. You’re not making things more complicated; you’re making them better. Trust me, Jude knows that.” The warmth in her voice brought a small smile to your face. Maybe she was right. Maybe Jude had thought this through more than you’d given him credit for. And maybe, just maybe, this was the next step you both were ready to take, together. You smiled at Denise’s words, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and comfort from her. She was like a grounding force, always knowing what to say to ease your worries.

“I just don’t want him to feel like I’m asking to be his wife or anything,” you said softly, but as soon as the words left your mouth, you realized how vulnerable they sounded. You’d forgotten for a moment that you were talking to Jude’s mom, not just a close friend, but she had this way of making you feel like family. You felt your cheeks warm slightly, realizing the gravity of what you had just implied. Denise laughed gently, a soft and knowing sound.

“Hun,” she said, her voice filled with affection, “ I also think that Jude wouldn’t be asking you to do this if he wasn’t sure about how much he wanted you by his side—publicly…. Or privately. Jude’s been telling me he’s been trying to get you to move here for a while. I really don’t think he’d mind that either—if anything, he might be waiting for you to ask. You two are good at communicating, and he knows what comes with all of this. We’ve never dealt with a girlfriend at this height of his fame yet, but we’re all here for you. Truly.” You watched her expression soften, her eyes glimmering with the kind of wisdom that only comes from years of experience and love. “And between us,” she continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “I think it’d be wonderful if you spent more time here. I’d love having you around. And Jude—well, he could finally stop spending every day complaining when you’re not.” She chuckled, the sound brightening the room. “Plus, I’d get to see Jobe more often. Promise, hun, these things work themselves out. You just have to focus on what makes you happy.” The truth of her words settled in your heart, comforting and yet a little unsettling. You bit your lip, thinking about how your happiness had become so intertwined with Jude’s.

“Him being happy makes me happy,” you admitted, your voice soft but sincere. Denise smiled, her eyes twinkling with understanding.

“Good, because I like when you’re both happy. You two have something special, and I don’t want you to lose sight of that.” She leaned in, kissing your temple, and gave your arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s important that you take care of yourself in all this, too. Just trust yourselves. You’ll figure it out.” You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the conversation settle in.

“I just worry about how much everything is changing,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “This life, this level of spotlight—it’s all so new to me, and I don’t want it to change how we are together.” Denise nodded knowingly, her expression serious but gentle.

“Change can be scary, especially when it feels like it’s being thrust upon you. But remember, love isn’t bound by circumstances. It’s about how you both navigate those changes together. Talk to him, share your fears. You’ll find that he’s just as invested in this as you are.” A small smile crept onto your face as you thought about Jude, his laughter, his warmth, and how he always seemed to know when you needed reassurance.

“He really is the best but you know that,” you said, the smile widening at the thought of him. Denise smiled back, her eyes shining with maternal pride.

“I like to think so but don’t forget, you’re amazing too. Jude sees that. Just be you, and everything else will fall into place. You’ll both adjust to whatever comes your way.” She told you surely.

“Thank you, Denise,” you said sincerely, feeling grateful for her support. “I really appreciate this. I just want to make the right decision.”

“Trust your heart, hun. It knows what’s best for you. And don’t hesitate to lean on us, okay? We’re here for you, no matter what.” With that, you felt a renewed sense of hope and confidence wash over you. You’d tackle this uncertainty together, just like you always had. And with Denise by your side, you knew you were not alone in this journey.

The room was staged for your interview or maybe you’d call it more of a confessional like on reality tv. It was buzzing, cameras rolling as you settled into your seat, laughing to yourself about how surreal it all felt. Jude was supposed to stay in the other room, but the moment you noticed him lingering just inside, you couldn’t help but call him out, cameras already rolling.

“You can’t be in the room!” you teased, your smile stretching wide. Jude leaned against the doorframe, eyebrows raised in playful defiance.

“What? Are you going to talk about me?” His grin was as smug as ever, the kind that always made you roll your eyes, but in the most affectionate way. You turned to the camera crew with a long, exaggerated sigh all being recorded.

“He’s so annoying.” You deadpanned, though your laughter quickly broke through your pretend irritation. The crew chuckled along, amused by the obvious chemistry between you two. The man behind the camera peppered you with questions but then steered into a conversation more about football as anticipated.

“And now you watch quite a bit more Real Madrid games, huh?” He asked sort of teasingly after you told him you had watched prior to knowing Jude.

“I do,” you nodded, a knowing smile on your face. “I don’t think I’m allowed to say who I used to support, though…” you trailed off, laughing. “But I’ve been converted according to Jude.” You smiled. “Madrid has some of my favorite players anyway, so it wasn’t that hard.” You continued. Your voice was playful, teasing the fact that you knew Jude would know exactly who those other players were.

“And your favorite player is?” the interviewer asked, leaning forward with a sly grin anticipating Jude to be the answer. You tilted your head, thinking, and then smirked.

“Player or person? Because those are definitely not the same answer.” You giggled. You grinned wider, leaning into the joke. “Person? It has to be Birmingham’s very own.” You shot a quick glance towards the door you knew Jude must’ve been hugging in an effort to try to listen in. “But as for player…” you paused for dramatic effect, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “J’adore Kylian, j’adore. He’s the best in the world, non?” You cheekily told them. Before the words were even fully out of your mouth, Jude’s voice boomed from the door.

“Nah, cut!” he said, storming into the room with a fake, exaggerated look of betrayal on his face.

“Jude!” you whined annoyed he was listening in but you were laughing as he came over, standing in front of you, arms crossed, trying and failing to look serious.

“Say that again, angel. Who’s your favorite player?” His voice dropped playfully, eyes narrowed but full of humor. “Go on, say it to my face then” You laughed, knowing exactly what you’d started.

“What, baby?” you teased back innocently. “Kylian est incroyable. Am I supposed to lie?” You giggled. Jude’s hand shot out to cover the camera lens, and with a swift motion, he knocked it slightly off-kilter, sending the viewfinder up toward the ceiling. The crew was in on the joke now, chuckling behind the scenes as Jude loomed over you, smirking.

“Nah, not having that Angel. ‘Ah Kylian incroyable,’” he murmured mockingly, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin as he mumbled sweet but teasing nothings, his words muffled but unmistakably teasing. You could barely contain your laughter, giggling uncontrollably as Jude peppered your neck and shoulders with playful kisses. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer, and you squirmed in your seat, trying to push him away, but not really meaning it. The sounds of your laughter filled the room, mixing with the faint shuffling of the camera still recording from its skewed angle.

“Jude, stop!” you gasped through your giggles, but he only kissed you more, grinning against your skin. The camera picked up the noise of kisses against your skin, the pet names, the type of teasing that only two people in love did. All of it saved and set to be included in the final edit of the show.

“Oh my godddd, they’re so cute!” Whitney squealed loudly from the living room, practically bouncing on the couch as she watched the first episode of Jude’s now released series. She pouted, eyes glued to the screen.

“Who’s cute?” From the kitchen, Trent’s voice called out.

“Ugh, come look!” Whitney rolled her eyes playfully as she turned her attention back to the TV. The screen showed one of many clips you seemed to be featured in indirectly. It was a post-match clip, with a wide angle of Jude greeting his family and friends in a box at the stadium. You were standing with Jude, his arm around you. The murmur of the room picked up by microphones low but your voice was amongst them was easily identifiable by Whitney. She could hear you softly saying how proud you were of Jude, and he responded by kissing your temple, keeping you close to him. Whitney practically melted at the sight, throwing a hand over her heart. “He put her in the show!” she yelled, delighted. Trent came sauntering back into the room, leaning on the back of the couch with a smirk.

“Wow… I’m surprised she agreed to that,” he said, watching the clip with a raised brow. Whitney giggled, shaking her head.

“I mean.. she really isn’t in it much but look at them” She was glued to the screen again, not wanting to miss a second. But then much to Whitney’s delight when the next episode rolled, and there you were, sitting down for an interview she squealed once more. “Oh, this is so on-brand for them,” She giggled hearing you call Jude annoying and then him barging in to kiss and tease you. “They’re so good together.” Whitney sighed, her pout returning in full force. But then a soft smile tugged at her lips from how much she adored seeing her best friend in that moment. Trent glanced at the screen and chuckled, then kissed the top of Whitney’s head.

“Good match making, beautiful” he cooed, complimenting her before heading back to the kitchen. Whitney just grinned, completely in agreement.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 21 - Space xx

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