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tojikai · 2 months

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Permanent Mark⁺ : FORLORN

Grateful to @mikeyslvrr for commissioning and for the support~♡

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Permanent Mark Masterlist

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, death, mentions of pregnancy, implied suicide

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this alternate storyline imagines what could have happened if Y/N had faced a different fate.

He's merely a ghost, beseeching to be haunted by your echoes.

I’ll make things right. I shouldn’t be too late, right? My Y/N and I will be fine. The moment she wakes up, I will apologize. I’ll tell her I messed things up. That I made the wrong decision. That I’m coming home with her. That I’ll never leave again.

We’re gonna make it.

“She didn’t make it.”

Satoru’s steps halted. The world halted. He's been pacing back and forth in the hospital corridor. Despite the chaos of the people coming in and out of the hospital, the voices bouncing on the white walls, and the cries of families who want nothing but to go home with their loved ones, the ticking of Satoru’s wristwatch is still the loudest.

It felt like every second added another boulder on his shoulder, making it harder to drag his feet on the tiled walls. Rie looked like she’d been awake all night when they’d only been here for a couple of minutes. Satoru could almost feel the blood behind his eyes, his nerves waiting to burst and he would be covered in it.

Covered in blood, drenched in guilt, weighed down by regrets.

The doctor’s words reverberated inside his head. The roof of his mouth felt strangely hot as he heard cries behind him. Then, he was tackled to the ground. He didn’t even try to fight back, he just welcomed each blow that his best friend threw on his face, growling “You fucking bastard,” He could hear Rie screaming and his vision blurring as he struggled to stand up, “Y/N, let me see my Y/N.” It was an incoherent murmur as he tried to get to her door.

He was a bit dizzy from the blow and his knees were too weak to fight back. He felt like a bird with tied wings as two people restrained him from going to the room. Satoru could tell that his nose was bleeding but this is nothing compared to losing you.

The irreversibility of his mistakes is now staring him right in the face and he has no choice but to stare back.

He can hear Suguru cursing him out while his tears bring forth realizations: Your parents were inside, after a long time of absence and months of separation from you, this is the first time that they’re seeing you again, not even breathing. The last thing you’d remember of them was how they never cared, neglecting you until you lost colors.

And Satoru… the last thing you'll remember of him will be his anger, his hatred, and the pain he caused you by turning your years of love into dust. The last thing you'll remember of him will be how he put someone else above you, even though he was the summit of your world.

The last thing you’ll remember is being unloved. By your family. By the man you love.

Satoru tried to claw his way past the arms that were holding him back, begging for just a glimpse. He cannot believe that it’s true unless he sees you. But even if he does…his brain and his heart wouldn’t allow him to believe it too. The next thing made everything impossible for him as he lost strength in all of his limbs and eventually blacked out.

“Y/N.” He called out one last time before closing his eyes.

—---------------------------------

Earlier

You can hear your sobs, and your heartbeats are like loud knocks in your ears. You sped up, vision spinning but this is nothing compared to the throbbing pain in your chest. You want to go as fast as you can, believing that maybe then your wheels would burn and dry all the tears that are running down your face. Everything around you was softened by the pools in your eyes.

Even the setting sun looked like a watercolor painting before you, the second brightest thing in your world.

You bit your lip to control your sadness from spilling out. You want to block out the words he said to you, you want to forget how he looked at you there. How those eyes you still love so much now look at you with such reproach, almost disdainful. Even at that moment, they still look so vibrant, enough to color a town. You let out a strained gasp, grasping your shirt as you come to a realization:

You will be stuck in this monochrome box as he paints someone else’s home.

Before you knew it, the sun had disappeared and there was only darkness in front of you. You blinked away your tears but it didn’t work. Where am I driving? You asked yourself but it was too late to hit the brakes. For a very short moment—a split second even—your flesh trembled before you heard a loud crash.

And then there was nothing. The sun was eaten up by that darkness in front of you and engulfed you along with it. Your body doesn’t feel like it belongs to you. You hear voices but the sound is distorted when they reach your ears. You couldn’t move. Slowly, you felt like you were sinking to the ground. The noises were getting faint and you could barely feel your heartbeat in your chest.

You slipped in and out of your consciousness, each time more chaotic than the last. There was the sound of the siren and a white dancing light pointing directly into your eyes. You can barely feel the air entering your lungs. Am I dying? You wanted to ask but your body was too numb.

If you are, this is going to be your second death today.

—---------------------------------

“Just let me be with her for a bit, Ma'am. Please,” Satoru didn't stop the tears from coming as he begged your mother. He knows he doesn't deserve it; he doesn't deserve to mourn you but there's nothing he wouldn't do. After everything that happened at the party, it all felt like a nightmare to him; something so unreal that up until now he still refuses to believe it.

His mother was with him during the burial, as he begged on his knees for a last moment. But your parents weren’t as soft as you. Even as he looked into your kind father’s eyes, he couldn’t find an ounce of pity. Why would he feel sorry for the man who tore his daughter apart? Out of all the hurtful things your mother has said, your father’s last words to Satoru are the ones that scarred him the deepest. It will haunt his ghost til its next life:

“I hope your guilt doesn’t consume you as completely as my daughter’s love for you did to her.”

Finding out about your pregnancy was another knife, twisting in his chest. The fact that you never found out was another bullet to his heart. So, you weren’t the only one he abandoned that day. Your heart wasn’t the only one he broke. It wasn’t just your own sadness you were carrying inside you but the unborn future’s lamentation too.

Til the very end, the people looked at him as nothing but a man with clean hands and a blood-stained shirt. “Come to think of it, even in her last moments she saved you.” Suguru spat at his face when they ran into each other during the funeral. The main reason for the accident was your alcohol intoxication. But Suguru knows too damn well why it all happened.

The only one that wept with him was the sky. The thunders screamed the same accusations at him. The people will see his cries as tears of guilt but no one will understand how his heart died with you in that hospital bed. No one will know how the things he did will forever sleep with him under his pillows, hammering words into his head.

Rie is a strong woman, watching him on his knees, bawling his eyes out as he screamed his love for you to nothingness. She’s a tough woman, entering his room only to hear him label his relationship with her as a mistake, wailing for a do-over. She’s a brave woman who holds him in her arms, whispering her love for him only to be answered with murmurs of I’m sorry’s.

Rie is strong, but a month is too long to stay with someone who will forever yearn for another.

She was hoping for him to stop her, maybe just ask her to give him time, it wouldn’t have mattered how long but he never did. “I’m sorry.” He said, nodding as he traced the mouth of his cup. “Will you be fine?” She asked, first, out of concern and second, to allow a bit of time in hopes that he’d change his mind.

“No, but it’s alright.” He spoke, eyes void of emotion. They almost looked more grey rather than blue now. “Whatever that has happened is on me. I shouldn't have even let it happen.” She knows that he’s not just referring to the accident. His blunt confession of how his relationship with her was a mistake sends a chill down her spine and an ache in her entire being.

How could he so openly tell her that he regrets being with her?

She guessed it was a small price to pay for taking part in breaking someone’s heart. And the larger bill was outside, lurking as she was faced with whispers in every company she tried working on, the continuous ringing of the numbers she called, and the neverending hours of one-sided conversations with her friends.

The rust of guilt will eat away at her bones as she tries to crawl back to where she came from.

Shoko was never the one to hold grudges. But for the longest time, she couldn’t talk to Satoru. She’d find herself spending most of her free time with you, even if she never got answers. Then she’d leave again like she always did before. If she regrets something, it’d be not being to be with you as much as she should be as a friend. Her job doesn’t allow for much time for rest.

Just like how it doesn’t allow enough time for mourning.

“You need to start continuing your life. You’re just insulting Y/N being like that now.” She looked away as she lit a cigarette. She called Satoru over to her clinic today, worried about how his mother called her crying when he wouldn’t answer his phone. It’s almost been a year since your passing and she could barely recognize him.

“Do you know where Suguru is?” He asked, voice hoarse as he licked his cracked lips. Shoko was grateful that his mother chose to take over his business. It’ll only fall down with him like this. He was breathing but barely alive. “Do not try to talk to him.” That’s the only thing she said, but Satoru already understands.

Suguru didn’t want to blame his friend when he was obviously devastated too. But hearing the doctor’s words that day, the first thing he thought of was that if Satoru hadn’t provoked it, you wouldn’t have left and driven drunk. He’d sound selfish if he said he was the most crushed of them all but how else does he cope with a loss of a love that never began?

The last time he’s been to your grave was on the burial day. He never went back again. He thought that maybe if he didn’t see it as much, his mind wouldn’t think of it like that. Maybe his mind wouldn’t remember your death. Maybe he can fool himself into thinking you’re just somewhere far away, working at your mother’s company.

“You don’t get to feel sad. You don’t get to feel sad as much as I do. Not when you already killed her before she even died in that accident.” He pulled at his friend's collar as tears streamed down their faces. “You don’t get to feel sad after what you’ve done, Satoru.” Suguru fears that even after years, he’d still feel resentment for his friend.

“If you weren’t planning on treating her well, you should’ve just let me love her instead, Satoru.” He let his shirt go along with the emotions he was hiding. “If you weren’t planning on keeping her, you should’ve just left her alone.” He whispered, stepping away as he turned his back to him, regaining his composure. This man is grieving too, he reminded himself.

The grief was heavier than the sea of blue in his eyes.

He looked so drained, like he died along with you and maybe he did, because staring into his eyes, Suguru couldn’t find his best friend anymore. When confronted by the uncontrollable materialization of the consequences of their actions, humans deteriorate from the inside.

He wanted to hug him, to cry with him, and let him put some of his heaviest feelings on him but he couldn't. “Live well, Satoru. Y/N wouldn’t want you like this,” He sniffed, running a hand down his face as he turned to his friend again, tapping his shoulder before stepping out.

It’s so hard to feel bad for someone who brought the tragedy upon themselves.

Years will pass and Satoru remains the same, an empty skeleton of who he was before, a vessel of memories and the love you generously left, a cage of regret, guilt, and suffering that he harvested from bad seeds that he planted. “It shall pass,” The doctor said, passing him a blister pack, “You’ll feel better with time.” It just makes him want to laugh. The man doesn’t understand that what he needs can’t be found in this world.

He would lie awake for hours, with exhaustion gnawing at him but still his eyes remained stubbornly open. Reality was punishing him by keeping him awake, blocking out his only means of escape and portal to you. Drinking wasn’t a solution, it was more of a problem. There was this one time that he drank so much, he thought he was seeing you.

His mother found him on his knees, his forehead touching the floor as he begged you to come back, apologizing to the air as his tears hit the tiles of his house. It’s no use, you will never come back and even then, his hallucinations of you were inanimate, unmoving, and cold.

He gazed at a jar filled with wilting flowers on the table—some had lost their color, while others were on the verge of fading. Standing up, he fetched a new one in his jacket’s pocket and cut off its stem before carefully placing it with the others.

These flowers came from the bouquets that he left on your grave. Each time he’d visit, he’d take one flower with him and keep it in this jar. It’s his way of coping, thinking that he still has a piece of you with him. It felt both comforting and painfully inadequate. Satoru doubts that anything will ever change in his life. Even if each person on Earth introduces someone or something new to him, nothing will fill the void.

Satoru wondered if you saw him as others do: merely guilty, not genuinely in love. It’d be another blow to his already beaten-up heart. Listening to the ticking of the clock, his shadow cast on the wall of his room. The quiet was eerie; it had been for years. This house had lost its colors long ago.

It is during these times when he remembers how you’d spent sleepless nights together, just soaking in the presence of one another. Maybe if he sleeps, he’d dream of how you used to rest your head on his chest. Taking the last of his pill, Satoru stared at his ceiling one last time.

As he closed his eyes, he prayed to wake up beside you.

Permanent Mark Masterlist

#angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader #commission #kai.commis

527 notes · View notes

just4koo · 11 months

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cornflower blue - jjk.

summary: nights were your favorite time with your boyfriend. the nights where you laid in bed together, tangled up in each other without any thoughts of the real world.

word count: 4.3k

genre/warnings: established relationship, porn with (kinda) plot, fluff, smut!!, unprotected sex, soft!dom jungkook, really soft overall, lots of praise, fingering, aftercare, dirty talk, creampie, jk loves to use pet names (tbh i didn't proofread this)

bruised on your face like a watercolor bloom, moonlight paints your skin cornflower blue

Every time you got a glance of your boyfriend, you wondered how on earth you were so lucky to find him. Every morning you spent next to him, you thanked whatever brought him to you because you couldn't imagine a life without him anymore. Without sharing your mornings and evenings together, having stay at home dates, sharing everything. The good, bad, and the ugly. There were moments where you felt like you could just stare at him for hours. Right now was one of those moments.

It was the mundane moments that really got to you. He had just gotten home from work a couple hours prior. The two of you had shared dinner together, he had ranted about his day like usual, and he had gone to the bathroom for his routine shower before bed. Now he was laying on the bed with you in all his glory. Damp hair, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, pajamas lazily pulled on, the two of you watching an episode of the baking competition show you two loved so much.

Somewhere during the episode you had lost focus once you got a glimpse of your boyfriend. He was much more interesting than the show to you, much more beautiful than any piece of artwork. Every curve and dip of his face, every blemish and mole, it was so perfect. The light of the TV brightened his features enough, allowing you to look at him even more in depth. Swoon over the beautiful brown eyes that were focused on the show.

It was almost as if your boyfriend could sense you staring. After a couple minutes of you watching him, his eyes flickered over to you. Earlier on in the relationship you would've shied away from his gaze at the prospect of being caught, but not anymore. Not when all you wanted to do every second of the day was remind him just how perfect he was. His eyes immediately softened when he saw you already looking at, revealing the gaze that he always had reserved only for you.

"Feeling tired, baby?" He asked in a tone full of affection, one of his hands moving to gently brush a strand of your hair out of your face. Your heart practically fluttered as his fingertips barely grazed the skin of your cheek. He was always so attentive to you that it made your heart throb uncontrollably.

"Mhm.. Can we just lay down and listen to our playlist?" You asked quietly, provoking a soft smile from him. It was one of the things you both loved to do. You loved music equally, and that love had produced a playlist that the two of you only listened to together. It had everything on it. Silly songs, slow songs, things that you wanted to recommend to each other. The song had 700 songs and was still being added to.

"Of course we can, come here.." Jungkook replied, holding an arm open for you. Without a second thought you were immediately abandoning your spot on the bed next to him in favor for crawling directly into his arms. With an arm now wrapped around you he cut off the TV and opened his phone, going into his music app to play the playlist. One of the first songs that played was soft R&B, one of the songs that had been recommended to him by his fans.

A small yawn fell from your lips as you rested your head against his shoulder just like always. His hand had instinctively traveled under your t-shirt, starting to rub slow circles into your waist. You had one of your hands in his hair, playing with the soft strands that he had decided to grow out a while ago. Everything in the moment felt perfect, like it was where the two of you belonged. Laying in bed with your limbs tangled, listening to the music.

You eventually found yourself looking back at Jungkook, you just couldn't help it. How could you not admire the most breathtaking person you'd ever laid eyes on? Especially not when he was looking right back at you, his eyes holding the same admiration that you were feeling for him at the moment. It was almost like the music faded into the background and now you were just stuck sharing a gaze with your boyfriend. Without the light of the TV anymore, the moonlight casted a blue hue in your shared bedroom, illuminating his features.

He was so stunning that it hurt. You wished nothing more than to be able to fully convey the things you felt for him. There wasn't a day that you didn't tell him how much you loved him or how handsome he was, and yet you still felt as if it wasn't enough. Words could never truly describe the emotions this man drew out of your soul. Without even knowing he made you want to be the best version of yourself possible.

"What're you thinking of, my love?" Jungkook eventually questioned, unable to hold in his curiosity anymore. You would often do this, look at him without really saying it. While other people may have commented on it or thought it was a bit strange, he never did. Because he knew that when you were looking at him in that way, you were feeling all of the same things that he felt for you.

"You. I'm always thinking of you." You answered, causing that familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach. No matter how long the two of you had been dating, one thing never changed. The magnitude of your feelings for each other. Most couples had honeymoon phases, losing the initial level of interest they had in each other once they got to know one another. But it wasn't that way for you and Jungkook. No, it had been the opposite. The closer you two grew together, the harder and deeper you fell.

You were eventually snapped out of your reverie by the sensation of your boyfriend's fingers brushing against your cheek again. This time, intentional. You looked back up into his eyes as you felt this, seeing him looking right back down at you. A soft smile pulled at the corner of his lips when he noticed the slight flush on your cheeks in the soft blue light of the moon. To him, you were a masterpiece. There was no purpose in going to museums when he had the most beautiful sight right in front of him, everyday.

"God, I wish you knew how much I love you." He breathed out. You felt your flush deepen at those words. The thing that brought you the most amount of happiness was knowing that what Jungkook felt for you was the same. You were both two young adults hopelessly in love with each other, the two of you against the world forever. The promise ring on your right hand sealing in your future together.

After a few more moments existing in the silence together, the two of you were simultaneously leaning in for a kiss. If you had one last wish before you died, it would be to experience this. To feel his soft lips slot against yours and draw away all of your worries. To take you to a place where you didn't have to worry about anything. Where you could just exist with him; live without any doubts for the future or any regrets for the past.

The two of you kissed softly and gently, getting lost in the warmth you got from each other. At one point, the feeling of you two kissing was becoming too much. The music provided a soft melody, joined with the new sound of the two of your breaths becoming more rushed. Your hands becoming more curious the longer your lips stayed locked. It was impossible when everything you felt for each other was so strong. The fire fueled by being so close.

With a small hum, Jungkook's other hand had slipped under your shirt, holding onto your waist to gently pull you closer. Kissing you was a dream to him, and he wanted every bit of it you let him have. With you, he wanted to do all of the things that lovers do. He wanted to worship and admire every single square inch of your body, because it was what you deserved. He saw you as a goddess that walked the earth, and he got the opportunity to feel your love.

"Jungkook.." You softly whispered his name as you felt his hands beginning to caress the skin of your back. He had never heard a prettier noise. Your boyfriend's touches were making your body warm up, always so sensitive to even the smallest touches from him. Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest when he grabbed ahold of your waist and flipped your positions, his elbows on either side of your head and his knees resting on the outsides of yours.

"Shh... I know, pretty." Jungkook replied quietly. He wasted no more time in pulling the sleep shirt over your head, leaving your upper half exposed to him. His eyes took the time to slowly drag down your exposed skin, his pupils dilated and his lips slightly parted. He looked as if he was in awe as he took a mental picture of the sight of you, how you looked laying back against the sheets, your skin practically glowing cornflower blue.

You were about to get shy about the way that he was observing you at the moment, but any thoughts were quickly wiped from your mind when his lips landed on your neck. Your body shivered in an immediate reaction to his touch, feeling the way he smiled against your skin. His lips worked gently and slow, trailing kisses all across the skin. One of your hands had tangled into his hair, wanting to keep him in place.

His fingers were once again gently rubbing your waist as his wet kisses slowly began to travel down your body, wanting to appreciate every single curve and crevice of your body. Your breath hitched when his tongue began to trace your areola. He always loved paying attention to your breasts, loved the soft skin on them and the way that you moaned so angelically whenever he stimulated you here. Just as expected, he earned one of those moans when his lips latched around your nipple.

He sucked gently, always sure to move his hand to attend to the breast he wasn't paying attention to. He flattened his tongue to move directly against your skin, ever so gently grazing his teeth against your nipple and earning a tug on his hair that made him moan. He finally pulled back only to give your other breast the same exact treatment. Jungkook was always a giver, and he made sure that no spot of your body was left unattended.

After a minute or so of this, it had become too much from you. The pool of arousal between your legs was so severe that it was giving you an uncomfortable sensation. You pulled his head away from your chest, his eyes immediately looking up at you with concern, wondering if he had done anything wrong or accidentally hurt you.

"I'm fine, Koo. I just.. I need you now." You said in an almost pleading tone, feeling borderline desperate. The worry on his features dissolved and instead was replaced with a grin, although you could clearly see the desire in his eyes just as strong as you felt it. He had no complaints though, he would do anything you asked.

Without wasting another moment he was undressing himself, taking off his t-shirt and the pajama pants he'd been wearing. Leaving himself in just his black Calvin Klein boxers that was enough to make any woman drool at the sight. Yet, this man was the one practically drooling at you while he was gently pulling down both your shorts and panties. This was a sight that Jungkook would give up everything to see. He wouldn't trade you for all the fame and fortune in the world. He had won the lottery with you.

"You're so damn beautiful.." Jungkook said without much thought, his tatted hands moving to rest on your thighs. They massaged the flesh gently, taking the time to appreciate the softness of your thighs. It was always one of his favorite parts of you. He had spent countless times fixated on your thighs, kissing and touching them. But he knew that tonight, neither of you had much patience. So after a few moments, his hands gently spread your thighs open.

"Such a pretty little pussy as well. Why does every part of you have to be so perfect?" He added on once he got a sight of the mess between your legs. Your cheeks were flushed deep red at his words. He had always been blunt with his words and how he felt about you. Sometimes it made you feel light and happy, other times like now it only fueled the burning fire of desire you felt for your boyfriend.

Not wanting to spend any more time making you shy, he started to give you what you wanted. His middle finger slowly swiped down your pussy, all the way from the hood of your clit to your slit. His eyes watched in wonder as you clenched down on nothing, so desperate to have him inside of you. If it was his choice, he would spend hours doing this. If he knew that it wouldn't torture you, he could be here all day playing with you.

Even though he could tell that you wanted him right at that moment, he always made sure to prep you a little before. Sparing a few moments using his fingers was worth it when he could ease the pain that you felt when his cock initially split you open. The one thing he hated most was seeing you in pain, especially if it was something that he could've prevented. So even though he saw the anticipation burning in your eyes, he didn't give in yet.

Your whole body shuddered when his thumb pressed directly against your clit. He rubbed in slow, small circles. All focus on the way that your back slightly arched off the bed and your hole was desperately fluttering. Just the sight was enough to elicit a groan from him. You drove him absolutely crazy, just as he was doing to you. Even the slight touch of his finger was enough to make your whole body react.

"Jungkook, please-" You started to beg, but was cut off abruptly when you felt his index finger push past your entrance. A moan fell from your lips as you were finally feeling some of the stimulation that you wanted.

"Patience, darling. Let me stretch out you a bit, okay? You're doing so well already." Jungkook muttered. His finger slowly began to pump inside of you while his thumb continued to give attention to your puffy clit. One of the things he loved most was the way that you were always so receptive to everything he gave you. You were so reactive also, unafraid to show him just how good he could make you feel.

A little while later he added his middle finger to join. There was already a sheen layer of sweat covering your body due to everything you were feeling at the moment. He worked ever so gently, fingers slowly scissoring inside of you to try and stretch you out a bit more. He made sure to stimulate your clit the whole time, making it easier for you to open up for him. He spent a few minutes just doing this, fingers curling against the spongy spot he had memorized, just as every other part of your body was to him.

He had spent so many times doing this, that he knew every way your body reacted. He knew what every twitch looked like, every expression on your face. He never got tired of this. How could he ever get bored of watching the one person he loved so much falling apart due to his touch? It was a sight he would never lose.

The closer you came to your climax, the more vocal you became. There were moans coming from your mouth, mumbles of his name, small whimpers. It all rushed through his body and went straight to his already painfully hard erection. Even though it was borderline painful, he didn't mind waiting if it meant you were properly prepared for him.

He stared as your hips began to twitch, knowing your climax was close. He ever so slightly quickened the pace of his thumb against your clit and it was enough to send you over the edge. Your hands that had been resting on his shoulders dug into the skin as your whole body trembled with the force of your orgasm. In just minutes he had you falling apart on his fingers, unable to do anything else but call out for him as he continued to move his fingers inside of you, letting you ride out your high.

He finally pulled his fingers away when he felt the taps on his shoulder, knowing exactly what it meant. You shivered a little when his fingers slipped out of your pussy, his fingers wet with your essence. He wasted no time in bringing his fingers up to his mouth, tasting your release with a deep groan. Just the sight of your boyfriend sat back on his heels with his fingers in his mouth, cock straining his boxers, was enough to immediately turn you on again.

"I need you please, so bad.." You finally uttered after coming back from the overwhelming sensations he'd given to you. Your hands were already on the waistband of his boxers, his eyes intently staring you down as he pulled his clean fingers from his mouth. He watched as you pulled down his boxers, helping you remove them fully. He saw your reaction to the way his cock sprung up to gently hit his stomach, showing just how much he desired you.

You reached out for him immediately, wrapping one of your hands around the base of his erection, drawing out a quiet hiss from under his breath. You barely had time to slide your hand up before he was taking your hand away and pinning you back down to the bed. He looked down at you with so many emotions in his eyes. Love, affection, desire, lust. Everything that you felt for him completely mirrored.

"How could I ever resist you when you sound so pretty for me?" Jungkook questioned quietly, his knees pushing your thighs apart to nestle himself between your legs. His hands held both of yours, pinning them down to the bed. His eyes were locked onto yours, always wanting to stare right into the eyes of his lover as he showed just how much he felt for you.

One of his hands momentarily moved to take ahold of his throbbing cock, rubbing it against your entrance. You were both immediately moaning in your neediness. He knew that there was no way he would be able to last long, not when what he felt for you was so intense. Unable to take anymore of the torture, he finally aligned himself with your entrance, guiding his hips slowly to make sure he didn't hurt you.

"Oh my god, you're so perfect." Jungkook's face fell to the crook of your neck, having to use all of his strength to hold himself back from drilling into you. Your head fell back against the pillow when you felt his cock splitting you open, pushing past your entrance. Your walls were immediately pulsing around him and he swore that he was in heaven. Once he bottomed out he stayed still, free hand going down to rub small patterns into your clit to help you ease up, his lips kissing against the delicate skin of your neck.

"You can move now, please.." You whispered after getting used to the feeling of your boyfriend deep inside of you. His stimulation to your clit helped and now you were just desperate for him to make love to you in the same way he always did.

Jungkook immediately began to move at your permission, hips pulling almost all the way back before he thrusted back into you. Every slight movement of your body was enough to make his cock twitch. From only just a few moments he felt like he was so close to the edge. Every time he felt like he was about to orgasm he would slow down, edging himself to bring you more pleasure. You were always his first priority.

"This cunt is so sweet, baby. Made just for me, hm?" Jungkook asked as his hips rolled against yours. He worked at a steady pace, not wanting to rush things when everything felt so perfect. For once you two didn't have to rush in the fleeting moments during the day before you had things to get done. No, both of you were with each other in the light of the moon, without a worry of a single thing other than each other.

"Yes, Jungkook! Only for you.." You practically whimpered out, back arching and pussy clenching at his sweet praise. That was enough for him to practically lose control of himself. His hands gripped your thighs now, pushing them against your chest so he could reach even deeper into your insides.

"Fuck, that's right. Only for me. Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" His voice was becoming more high pitched, moans borderline raspy at this point. You sounded so sweetly to him, like an angel coming down to bless him personally. Sometimes he wondered if you were actually a dream, but these moments were too real for him.

Your response to his words was a high pitched moan, nails desperately clutching at the sheets the deeper he forced his cock into you, the longer his finger quickly rubbed at your clit. It was all too much, yet you could never get enough of him, of what he gave you. You had always been his good girl, and you always would be. The love of his life, his darling. Every single word he fed to you just made you feel even closer to your climax.

"I love you so much, you know that right? N-never forget that.." Jungkook breathed out with a slight stutter, almost unable to think straight at this point. He was ruining himself right now by how hard he was holding back, his balls painfully aching every time he drove himself back into your sopping pussy.

The sound of your joined moans along with your cunt squelching with every single deep thrust was a melody to him that no other music could ever come close to. No sounds could give him the same amount of satisfaction and feelings as this did. He loved you with every single fiber of his being. He needed you even more than that.

"I l-love you too. I can't.." Your voice was so desperate at this point, unable to formulate any proper sentences. But he knew. He always did when it came to you. He could feel the way your whole body was trembling right now, he could see the way your eyebrows were pulled together and the way you were biting down on your bottom lip. You were close to your second orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to fill you with all of his love.

"I know, darling. Want to feel you cream my cock. Come for me." Jungkook mumbled into your ear, almost unable to contain himself anymore. Giving you the final push as his lips crashed against yours, reaching your peak for the second time that night. Your body tensed up and thighs trembled, your lips parting in a silent moan.

The sight of you at the height of your pleasure was too much for Jungkook to bear. With a few sharp thrusts into your quivering pussy, he let out a prolonged groan as you felt his cum filling you in long spurts. His hips were pushed flush against yours, his cock quivering as he felt you milk him for all he was worth.

As the both of you came down from your highs he lazily ground his hips against yours a few more times, letting the two of you come down slowly from your highs. Once the both of you winced at the feeling, he pulled out of you, cock now soft and covered in the mess the both of you created. He looked down at your hole, watching with interest as the mix of your cum was spilling from your entrance.

Fighting off the urge to push it back into your used pussy, he got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom, coming back with a rag to clean you up before any more of the cum got onto the bedsheets. Like always, he made sure to wipe the both of you down before getting back into the bed right next to you. Not bothering to get back dressed as he just wanted to hold you.

His arms immediately wrapped around you and pulled you closer, causing you to smile. Your body was exhausted but it was the best feeling. The pleasure was still running through your body. Even more importantly, you still felt all of the love from before. He never failed to make you feel loved and appreciated. Your boyfriend was amazing.

"I love you." You mumbled to him, smiling lightly at the song that came on, remembering the music the two of you had been listening to. The moon was still high in the sky, leaving the two of you with more time to lay together. More time to stay in your little bubble without any worries, no thoughts except ones of each other. Being in the comfort of knowing that you loved him, and he loved you just as much.

"I love you too."

in the morning, i'll love the mangled bits of you i'll love you when your lips turn cornflower blue

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hom3landr · 3 months

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Tea with Honey

Bakerverse

Every relationship has its firsts. Homelander’s budding romance with his Baker is no different. But not all firsts are pleasant.

Homelander can’t wait any longer to visit her. His heart stings and aches from the weight of rejection. There is a hole inside him that he hoped the promise of family would heal. He has no experience with Fatherhood but he’d figured that it would be natural; instinctual. But one can’t learn love in a lab. Even his best intentions came up lacking, a fall from a roof seemed like such a necessary harmless casualty. He doesn’t know how to handle things that were raised soft. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, so he spits it out and seeks reassurance from the hands of a ghost.

Deep deep down, he can’t forget. But that’s ok. The Madelyn in front of him lifts two milk covered fingers to his mouth and he willingly takes the offering given. If she is a ghost then she is one with a warm body, an eager mouth, and a soft lap. She is one with assurances and words he needs to hear. She is one that he can keep on a leash and who won’t disappear into smoke. This is a ghost who knows his sins and lets him sigh them into her skin.

He can’t forget but he can control the memory left behind.

He tells her about you and she eagerly responds to his tales of your softness. She urges him to take you. If he could watch from outside himself, he would see it as the plea it is. For Doppelganger is willing to feed you to the lion, toss you like a piece of meat to a snarling dog, wave you like a flag in front of a bull. Homelander hears Madelyn’s voice as a kindness and doesn’t see it for the desperate distraction that it is.

“What are you waiting for?” She coos. “You’ve shown her that you can be good but have you considered that she longs for the raw power you hold? Once she has experienced your strength then she will beg you to take her.”

It’s what he wants to hear. He’s proven that he can be good yet still your kisses remain sweet and your touches light. The beast within him is growing more difficult to quiet when it howls for that sweet heat between your legs. Your gentility is starting to feel like rejection. The hunger inside him is an empty ache. He needs to take up space in you.

———-

He grins at the fat raindrops that dampen his hair as he leaves the cabin. The ozone is a pleasant scent that lingers in the back of his throat and on his tongue. It tastes like power. He can relate to the wild fury of a thunderstorm. He wishes that his rage could also be seen as something natural and not some sort of flaw. Thunderstorms can rain hail and destruction without consequence and people will still find comfort in the rumble of thunder. Perhaps that is another reason why Stormfront makes him so bitter, he envies that she takes on the characteristics of the storms he loves so much. How dare she show her edges and still be adored?

But Stormfront can’t have you. You’ve told him as much. You admitted how much she gets under your skin. You told him that you don’t trust her and that the very sound of her voice makes your flesh crawl.

The only storm you’ll know is him.

————

Homelander’s hunger for you clouds his judgment and the cracks of thunder echo the hot pounding of his arousal as he contemplates his plan. He can’t wait to surprise you and finally show you what he’s capable of. He’s on autopilot as he flies to your apartment, mind busy with fantasies. He intends to make you scream so loud that even the fiercest weather would be deafened by your pleasure.

He lands on your fire escape and knocks cheerfully on your window. He can hear you startle through the walls, your heartbeat fluttering with surprise. He leans back on his heels and crosses his arms under his cape. He has to suppress a grin when he sees your distorted face through the rain smeared glass. You’re a watercolor painting and Monet can go fuck himself cause your beauty makes his works no more than trash. He longs to keep you hidden away so only he can appreciate you.

You open the window wide so he can climb inside. His wet cape drips puddles all over your floor and your brow furrows briefly at the mess before meeting his gaze with a quizzical smile. He takes a brief glance behind you to inspect your place. He hasn’t been inside since that perfect Christmas night and without the decor it’s painfully obvious that your apartment is in a poor state. He huffs a tiny laugh to himself. It wouldn’t take much to convince you of structural damage. He’ll make sure you have a place to stay.

“I didn’t know you were coming over! I’d have made dinner.” You lament, flustered at being caught in such an unprepared state. He waves your concern away. As pleasant as your cooking sounds, he still fully intends to eat.

“I wanna show you something.” He replies with a smile, gesturing to the open window behind him. He’s surprised that he hasn’t done this sooner. What better way to wow you than to give you a practical application. He’s been good but now he’s starving for you to see behind the gentleman’s mask he wears. He takes a closer look at you. You’re wearing nothing more than an old white t-shirt and some sleep shorts. He thinks if he looks close enough he can see the shadow of your nipples through the material. With the way it’s pouring, he’s bound to get an even better look soon.

Madelyn’s voice still echoes in his ear.

He’s so excited that he doesn’t notice things he’d usually be laser focused on. He doesn’t register the shiftiness of your eyes or the anxious way you fidget every time the thunder rumbles. Your heart is racing because you must still be surprised by his arrival. The scent of fear can’t be because of him. You were probably watching something scary. He can hear the strains of a true crime podcast that you’d turned down playing on the tv.

It’s not because of him.

“Right now?” You ask, nervously scratching your arm as a streak of lightning briefly lights up the sky. His hackles instantly rise at your apparent lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He replies sharply, sharper than he usually is with you. The instant rejection is a fierce sting to his ego. His fantasy already isn’t working out how he planned and he’s starting to feel annoyed and out of sorts. He was so sure you’d be wowed but apparently you’re feeling prissy tonight.

You wince at his tone. You glance anxiously out the window and bite your lip. He begins to tap his foot in impatience. You exhale roughly as though you’re preparing yourself for some great trial.

“I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m not feeling well so maybe we should reschedule. You’re welcome to stay and watch a movie! I can order us some takeou…” You don’t get to finish your sentence.

“I didn’t come here to watch a fucking movie!” He snaps and he hates the way you flinch. It makes his throat tighten up and his chest ache with hurt. You’re making him feel mean and foolish, needy in the way he seeks your attention.

This is all wrong. You’re not being you.

“We don’t have to watch a movie! I have some board games and I know I have a deck of cards somewhere.” You try to do damage control but your continuous deflections only make him more frustrated. Your gaze is wary now; it’s the first time you’ve been wary around him.

He stomps over and grabs your arm firmly. It’s not tight enough to bruise but you can’t pry him off as he guides you over to the window. You struggle and try to stutter out excuses and explanations but he doesn’t want to hear it. He scoops you up in his arms and is out on the fire escape in the blink of an eye. The rain immediately drenches you and he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t even register the way your clothes cling to your form.

“Stop whining. You’re gonna fucking love this. Don’t worry.” He attempts to soothe you. You have to like it. You have to like him. You’re frozen solid in his arms but he knows you’ll relax once you’ve adapted. Without a warning he shoots up into the air like a rocket.

It’s beautiful up in the storm clouds. Despite the flashes of lightning, Homelander knows you are safe even up in the sky. He can sense the sizzle in the air and smell the ozone before electricity splits the sky. He’d never let you be harmed. He wants to share this with you. He wants you to know this part of him. This is what you hold in your hands when you kiss him.

He looks down at you, anxious to see the awe on your face. He wants to smell your need for him mixed with the heady smell of ozone. But instead he’s met with your pounding heart and trembling form. Your hands are curled into icy claws and your breathing is rapid and shallow. Tiny pained noises escape your mouth with every panicked heave. You’re fucking terrified.

“It’s not that bad. I’ve got you.” He reassures you but he’s not even sure you can hear him right now. You shake your head jerkily and a wail escapes you as lightning flashes in the distance.

His heart drops and shatters on the ground far below as he realizes that this isn’t some passing anxiety.

Homelander wants to fucking shake you in anger. How come you’re overreacting now? This is him. You’re supposed to share this with him. He’s giving you this privilege and you’re spitting it back in his face.

You’re supposed to love (him) this. Why don’t you?

“P…please,” You manage to stutter out weakly. “Can we go back now?”

He should fucking drop you.

His fingers twitch with temptation. Of course he’d catch you, but you’d learn there are things worth crying about.

You anxiously paw at his chest.

“I want to go down now!” You sob. His fingers twitch again. You don’t smell like brown sugar anymore.

He startles as he feels a sharp sting across his cheek. You’ve grown wild in your terror now. While he lacks the capacity to bruise, the shock of the impact still has him rattled. Your chest heaves.

“PutmedownPutmedownPutmedown!” You repeat in a furious panic as you pound on his chest with your hands. Your fight response is fully activated and logic is clearly no longer in the picture as you lash out at the very thing keeping you in the air.

He almost lets go.

But instead he slowly glides back down, drawing out your torment out of spite. He drops you coldly onto the slick metal of the fire escape. You grasp the bars like a lifeline and Homelander’s nose wrinkles as you spit bile. You still haven’t ceased wailing.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” He hisses. His mood is blacker than the stormy sky. You don’t even look wounded. You might as well still be stuck in the air as you tremble and wheeze.

He wants to put his hands over his ears to block out your cries. He wants to fly away to safety. He wants to crush your skull. He wants to pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless till you calm. He wants to hold you. He wants to kill you. He wants to beg your forgiveness.

He wants. He wants. He wants.

As if on autopilot himself, he scoops you back up into your arms to carry you inside. He deposits you on the couch, gentler this time despite his whole body shaking with restraint. You curl up into a ball and hide your face from him.

This is like Ryan all over again.

He clenches his fists and storms into your kitchen in a rage. He needs distance from you before he does something rash. He paces like a caged animal in the small space. His reflection in the glass cabinets is judgemental but he refuses to acknowledge them. He ignores the soft calls of his name itching at the back of his consciousness.

“Look at me, Tiger.”

“You need to calm down John.”

“Pathetic! She’s gonna fucking hate you just like everyone else does.”

He slams his fists down on your counter and he hears a crack.

FUCK

His eyes land on a lone mug on your counter. It’s colorful and chipped and so you that the unexpected rush of endearment he feels helps direct him out of his rage. His brow furrows as an idea begins to form. He can fix this. He just needs to do what you would do. He looks around, pointedly avoiding the cabinets. He sees a box of tea bags. He exhales sharply. He opens the fridge and fills the mug with water from your filter. He heats it with his vision till it's bubbling. He dips the tea bag in it and with one last flourish because he’s not sure if it’s safe to face you yet, he locates a container of honey that he gives a generous squeeze.

He takes a deep breath as he exits the kitchen.

You’ve calmed down considerably although your head is still buried in your knees. Your breathing is a little steadier and your agonized wails have quieted into soft sniffles. You’re still shivering as the fading adrenaline and damp clothes send chills through your body. He grabs a blanket from a nearby basket as he tentatively walks over. He sets the tea down on the coffee table in front of your spot on the couch and wraps the blanket around your shoulders. It feels strange, taking care of somebody else. Especially someone he’s still angry at.

“I’m sorry,” Your words are shaky and muffled. You sound so sad. “I’m so so so sorry. I ruined everything”

Homelander freezes, his brow furrowed in confusion. You’re apologizing?

“I have a phobia and I should have said something but it happened so fast. I was so scared and I lost control and panicked. I shouldn't have hit you.” Your voice is thick with guilt.

“Please,” He scoffs, weirdly amused and a little unsettled by your concern. “You couldn’t have hurt me if you tried. Now c’mon and look at me.”

You lift your head. Your eyes are red and swollen.

“I shouldn’t have hit you.” You reiterate and Homelander’s chest tightens. “I’m sorry. It was wrong.”

For a moment the silence is deafening. The sincerity in your gaze unsettles him. You reach out and your fingers tenderly brush the area of impact. It’s not tender. It barely even hurt

Shocked hysterical laughter starts to build in Homelander’s throat at the solemn look on your face.

Well fuck.

Isn’t that a fucking first.

You watch him quietly as he doubles over and holds his stomach. It’s not a laugh of amusement and if he was an outside observer he’d realize just how wounded it sounds. It’s pure emotional release.

You’d barely even given him a love tap. You’re sitting over there with your big wide weepy eyes as though you’d fucking beat him senseless. You’re acting as if you’d thrown him into a fucking oven.

He wheezes until his chest hurts. All the repressed anger and anxiety now flooding out in sheer astonishment. He was so sure you’d hate him.

He feels something warm wrap around his shoulders and his giggles begin to quiet. He looks over to you only to startle for a second at how close you are. You’ve wrapped the other end of the blanket around him. Your expression is soft but unreadable. You rest your forehead against him and he shudders.

“I…” He pauses. He can’t quite articulate what he wants to say. It’s not your fault. He didn’t pay attention. He didn’t listen. But admitting such feels like a weakness. It chokes him.

“I made you some tea.” He says instead, pulling back to hand you the mug. His voice barely shakes.

You smile and as you cradle the mug and take a sip, he notices that you smell like brown sugar again.

“Tea with honey is my favorite.” You reply sweetly, after giving a pleased hum at the taste. He may not have said it out loud but he can tell you understood with the way you look at him. Things are so easy with you. He turns to bury his face in your wet shoulder as you sip.

“I forgive you.” He mumbles, half hoping you don’t catch it.

“I forgive you too” You reply.

He doesn’t sleep with you that night…at least in the primal sense. But it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep on his chest once the two of you decide that a movie might be just the thing for a stormy night after all. Lounging on the couch, while dressed in some soft sweatpants, and with you warm and sleepy on his chest, he comes to the conclusion that this is just as good as fucking anyway. You make soft noise in your sleep and snuggle further into the whorls of hair on his bare chest. (Something you’re absolutely delighted by if your physical response at the reveal was any indication)

In fact, it might even be better than fucking.

He lazily decides that he can love storms enough for the both of you.

#it was storming as I wrote this lol #this was supposed to be for Domaystic but OOPS #also this fic was planned out for ages but s4e4 gave it extra context I didn’t intend #procrastination win ig #homelander #homelander x reader #x reader #bakerverse

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year

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hello!! ⭐, I saw that your order section was open and yesterday I read your story of buggy with the Roger effect and Jessica Rabit and I loved it, and I would like to know if you could do a one shot or something shorter if you prefer showing how they met and they decided to get married I love your stories and I think that, like your buggy, he is my favorite character. If you don't like this request or you think it's not good to do it, you can just ignore it, it won't be a bad thing 😸 thank you and have a good day!! 💗✨ (pd. English is not my first language so sorry if something is not written well😔)

Deal! I love this little idea

Buggy x FemReader

Small angst + Fluff

Heart on my Sleeve

Prequel Of Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect

Wanna Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️

• Your village was one of the poorest villages in the East Blue, the taxes from the World Goverment crippling your home to be a starving wasteland.

• Mainly to the wealthy Governor who lived above your town.

• You owned a fabric shop but the fabrics you owned were old and starting to rot from the lack of buissness. The moths having more use put of your fabrics then you did-

• The newest pirate on the scene Buggy the Clown shows up to your village ready to pillage it, in his early 20s with a fresh faced crew. However they did not expect the village to look worse then before they arrived.

• "I thought you said this place had money?" Buggy asked as he looked at the place. Lowering his blades as it looked like this place- it was in shambles. Like it had been pillaged to time then a pirate

• You had walked out of your shop, seeing if maybe the baker had just enough flour so you could feed yourself. Turning to see the group of pirates that seemed better off then you and your people.

• Buggy stared hard at you and matched forward, seeing that you were quite pretty in his eyes as he stood before you.

• "You! Tell me what the hell is wrong with this place! We heard it was rich here!" He said angrily, clearly upset at not getting to a small village that at least had a few Berries.

• You looked up at the pirate, noting the far too big of clothes for his frame and his painted face- Not liking he was putting such an unflattering green around his watercolor eyes. His face twisting up in anger as he caught you staring at his face.

• "What are you staring at!? You looking at my nose!" He yelled angrily, his fingers going to the inner part of your coat where you assumed some weapon would be.

• "No your shirts too big for your frame and that shade of green doesn't compliment your eyes well" You said truthfully, At this point a knife or bullet being a kinder death then starving anyway-

•"U-Uh- What?" He said confused, Unsure how to answer. You reaching forward and putting your arms around his frame to pull back the shirt. Taking a pin from your pocket and pinning the shirt back so it fit properly.

• "See- Your shirt is too big. It looks better fitted like that" You pointed out, His faze looking down at the pinned back shirt. His face red at how close you got to him, or that you'd touched him at all.

• "As for money we have non. The governor has the taxes so hide no one here can even feed themselves" You said truthfully, The young clown blinking at you in surprise.

• "Er- Y-Youre making fun of me somehow right? Like my Nose" He tried to yell again grabbing the front of your dirty shirt- clearly not used to someone trying to give him kind useful advice without some sort of motive.

• "I would never make fun of your nose, it looks fine to me anyways" You snap back and slap his hand away calmly. He blinked at you surprised and released your hand- His eyes going up the hill of the village and seeing the grand governors house hidden in some trees.

• He huffed and shoved you hard, you falling into the mud as him and his crew marched past up to the Governors home.

• However what did surprise you was the next Morning the Captian and his Crew stood in the village square and announced he now owned the village. Saying he was Buggy the Clown- and that he was now in charge.

• Before starting to hand out some stolen treasure??? Giving some supplies he had 'liberated' from the Governors house.

• You also noticed how his eyes lingered on you as he did this.

• It had been a few months like this, he would stop by randomly pay for the village. He wasn't taking taxes but instead paying things- it was improving greatly, the cracks of the pavements on the streets getting repaired, new paint on the building and new businesses flourishing-

• But you noticed how he would pay extra attention to your shop- Getting all his things from you. How you got extra rolls of fabric delivered to your door or how he would pay for all these extra accessories to his costumes.

• "You seamstress I want another coat!" He yelled as he invaded your shop.

• Buggy was there again, asking for another ridiculous costume. You couldn't help but notice how often he was coming by- claiming he wanted new costumes by you and wanting to be measured everytime he came in.

• How he would blush when you measured around his chest. "You know, I noticed you always come through here and stop specifically at my shop for new outfits when you wear the same coat" You tease, watching him blush at you pointing this out.

• "So what!" He yelled out, his face as red as a cherry. You look at him and raise a brow at him, Not even having to say a word as Buggy deflated.

• "...I uh wanted to take you on a date" He grumbled, finally admitting what his plans were. You smiled at this, Setting the tape aside.

• "Now please do tell me, Why should I accept your offer for someone who not only yelled in my face but pushed me in mud-" You point out, even though you knew he most likely made up for it by him saving your village.

• "..I am sorry about that.." He forced out, you could tell he wasn't used to apologizing and was trying his hardest.

• "I forgive you, But that doesn't mean I'll forget" You say calmly. Smiling softly as you saw him looking ready to flip put at the rejection but you held a hand to him-

• "I know- So why don't we make a deal. Since I can tell you're really sorry why don't we agree to dinner and go from there? Its not a date per say but its a start" You said with a smile, his eyes lit up at hearing this at the prospect of getting to win you over.

• "Really!?" He says excitedly, Jumping up and down like a school boy as he blushed and giggled into his gloved hands like a kid. You couldn't help but find it adorable-

• For the next year Buggy would send gifts, love letters, help rebuild the village. Do everything to get in your good graces and ask for a official date every time he visited.

• Buggy would essentially own the Village at the point, 30% of his money went to the village to get it on its feet and keep it a small strip of paradise the very limited taxes he implimented later affer the village was florishing acted as a small form of secondary income. Mainly making sure people knew the place was protected by him as his reputation grew through time.

• Him even showing his unique Devil fruit abilties- Which you often abused for him to float up and grab the more expensive rolls of fabric or hang up finished cloths.

• The village also being a popular tourist destination for the friendly locals and nice scenery. So for Buggy it was worth the investment since originally put in.

• After that 'probation' year you would finally agree to officially date him and he was over the damn moon.

• While he would be secretive about you, his love language was strong. He is both physically and verbally affectionate- While he still throws his fits you know how to handle him well. Loving him both for his strengths and flaws.

• It would be 1 years of dating before Buggy would start planning how to pop the question.

- You were closing up shop for the day, humming along to a made up tune when you heard the back door of your shop being unlocked. You didn't have to look to know who it was, only one other person had the key to it.

"Hey Buggy Boo" You call out, smiling as you heard Buggy grumble and peel off his boots to leave them by the front door.

"That is still such a bad nickname" He grumbled before walking behind you and kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you. He smelled like the sea, clearly having just gotten off his shop to visit you. He had been taking more time out to see, wanting to get his bounty higher. Currently proud of his 5,000,000 berry bounty which for a early 20s pirate was fairly good he claimed.

"Ah you love it" You giggle which earned a adorable chuckle from the man.

"You know (Y/N)- I uh really like you and Want to spend my.."

"So I wanted us to have dinner tonight- I know you like that place down the street and want us to go there" He said, his voice very soft- Much softer then normal.

Smiling you turn around and kiss him on the lips.

"I'd love to" You say cheerfully, earning a crooked smile from him as he held you close.

As promised, that night Buggy took you to your favorite restaurant. Having gotten a private table in the back, you two spending hours just talking and sharing a meal together.

Buggy even pulling out a box of your favorite candies he had gotten out from his last adventure.

After dinner he lead you away to the more scenic parts of your Village a small meadow pass that had the most beautiful blue and white flowers, under the moonlight it looked so magical. You saw Buggy reach in his pockets and turn to face you, nervousness painted on his face as he shuffled his feet. Clearly prepared to get on one knee-

"You stole my Thunder!!" He cried in faux anger, you laughing hard as he ranted about how you knew so quickly, happy tears running down your cheeks as you smiled and his face turned deep red.

"Yes I will!" You said with a wide smile, your excitement getting the best of you as you slapped your hands over your own mouth. His jaw dropping in shock.

"I've been planning this for 4 months!!" He whined, face so red his nose was glowing as he stared at you.

"Im so sorry Baby, You just- You talk in your sleep my Love." You reveal with a smile, His face twisting up as he realized you'd known the whole time and let him try to have his moment anyway. You had just got too excited and answering too quickly-

As this sunk in he smiled widely and started to laugh, he couldn't help it! You were just too perfect for him! Despite everything you still let him have the spotlight. He kissed your lips eagerly and held you close, rocking the two of you side to side in pure joy.

"I.. I love you (Y/N)..So much- I cant wait for you to be my wife.." He said as he pressed his face into your neck- You could feel the warmth of tears hitting your skin exposed. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as you hug him close and cried against him in joy.

Pulling the both of you to the ground with a loud laugh as you two laid in the flowers- Laughs leaving you both as tears stilled from both of your eyes.

"I love you too Buggy Boo"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy thoughts #op buggy #buggy x female reader #buggy x wife reader

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florencemtrash · 6 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Seventeen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None. Some angst. Some fluff. AHHHHHHHHHH just look at the gif guys

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will.”

The wet cloth soothed his burning skin as you carefully cleaned away the smattering of blood dashed over his high, bruised cheekbones like freckles. You were both holding your breaths, only daring to move when your lungs demanded it. Azriel sat on the chair you’d dragged into your bathroom, face level with yours as you leaned down to inspect his face with two fingers tucked beneath his chin.

Azriel’s fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch you somewhere. Anywhere.

“You said you’d tell me if I hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me, Y/n.”

Azriel could have told you that he was well versed with cleaning blood off his body and clothes. He could have reminded you back in the dining room that Feyre and Rhysand stood only ten feet away and could have whisked away his injuries and the bloodstains with a single touch or snap of their fingers. But instead he’d said nothing. He’d let you close your hand around his, fingers dangerously close to his thrumming pulse, and followed you to your bedroom while ignoring the throbbing pain of his cracked ribs.

Feyre called your bedroom The Wisp after having decorated it with all manner of airy, cream-colored furniture accented with soft browns. Your desk was overrun with neat piles of papers, books, and journals. The windowsill by your bed was dedicated to pre-sleep novels and clusters of lavender tied with twine and left to stand upright in vases fashioned from ink bottles. The scent of old books and parchment paper clung to every surface along with something that smelled clean and entirely like you.

Your bathroom was similarly orderly. Bottles of perfumes, lotions, and oils were laid out on the countertop like little soldiers, catching and scattering the moonlight from the window in a rainbow of color.

You brushed the cloth over his lips, eyes lingering on the two splits already scabbing over, then down the curve of his jaw to his chin.

It was reverently quiet here in your bathroom. Nothing but the faint and steady drip from the faucet into the quartz basin and your breathing filling the space.

Color had been spilled over Azriel’s face like a watercolor painting, equal parts painful and beautiful to look at. Because he was still so, so beautiful looking up at you with those whisky eyes that made your head spin. Those dark curls that hung over his forehead like seafoam waves. Your hands fluttered over the bottles on the countertop before settling on a pale green one that smelled strongly of mint. You smoothed the oil over Azriel’s face, leaving a cool, tingling sensation wherever you touched.

“I’m sorry about Lucien,” You whispered. “And Helion. I never wanted you to get hurt like this.”

“Don’t apologize.” He smiled sadly. “Cassian was right when he said I had it coming.”

You winced. “How bad was it when you fought Lucien the last time? When you invoked the Blood Duel?”

Azriel didn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never left yours as you quietly restoppered the bottle. “I was a second away from stabbing him through the heart when Elain stopped us. There are a fair number of scars we both left that fight with, but we did walk away,” He stiffened at the memory, “Barely.”

“Do you… do you regret it?”

“Yes,” Azriel said quickly. Firmly. “I will regret what I did and what Elain and I did together until the day I die.” His hands flexed by his sides and he dared to lift them up to your hips, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. When you didn’t shy away from his touch, he continued on. “I wanted what my brothers had and in my desperation I think Elain and I chose each other because we just wanted to do something. I wanted a mate and proof that I belonged alongside Rhys and Cassian, and Elain wanted to break the rules for the first time in her life. To feel in control. But we never should have done it knowing everyone would get hurt.”

“Sometimes love is like that,” you murmured, “Messy and hurtful… or so I’ve read.”

“I didn’t love Elain. I don’t love Elain. At least not romantically.” Not the way that I love you.

You tried to ignore the flutter of relief in your chest. It didn’t feel like the right time for it. Not with Azriel bruised and hurting before you. You dropped your eyes to the pale green tiles and caught sight of Azriel’s gloved hands.

“You’re wearing them again.”

Wordlessly you picked up one and gently began tugging the leather off his fingers. One by one. The whole time you kept your eyes on him, tracing the tension in his shoulders and between his eyes as his ruined skin was exposed inch by inch. The air felt foreign on the skin of his palms. The feel of your body so close to his felt exhilarating.

“I’m so sorry,” Azriel whispered, “I never meant to hurt you in all the ways that I did. What I did—”

“I know, Azriel.”

His eyes traced every line of your face, hands shaking. “You’re not a fourth choice. You’re not broken... But I think I might be,” he confessed. The words hung in the air between you two. Words you could wrap around his neck and hang him with.

He felt every stroke of your fingers over his knuckles. Every flutter of your eyelashes as you looked at him with the faintest tilt of your head.

“So what?” You breathed out.

Azriel shook. “Y/n?”

“So what if you’re broken? Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” You leaned your forehead against his, noses brushing, “But you’re still Azriel.” You smiled gently at him, eyes fluttering closed as you sighed. “And I think that’s a wonderful thing.”

Azriel stopped breathing as you brought his hands up to your lips and brushed them over every scarred knuckle. Every touch of yours was sacred. In their sincerity. In their rarity. In their preciousness to him.

“Do you… do you like me, Azriel?” Your words were nervous and soft. Softer than the finest bed Azriel had ever laid his head down on. Softer than the clouds that turned to rain when he flew through them. Softer than your ink-stained fingertips landing on the sprinting pulse of his neck.

“Yes,” Azriel murmured, “You can’t even begin to know, Y/n.”

And then your softness was all around him. It was your lips against his lips, pillowy and tasting faintly of the sweet wine you’d drank at dinner. It was your hands and arms looping around his neck and keeping his head squarely on his shoulders so he could experience this vibrance. It was the feel of your body as he held onto your hips and then flattened his hands against the small of your back, pressing you as close as he dared. River-soaked robes long since forgotten.

You were like water threatening to slip through his fingertips.

You hoped you were doing this right. Reading about kissing was very different from the actual thing. Your lips felt too stiff or too fervent. You worried your hands were too greedy as you plunged them into his raven-wing hair and tangled silken strands. But while you lacked experience, Azriel surely seemed to be making up the difference. He held you as close as possible, until it felt more like breathing than kissing.

Salty tears landed in between your lips until you could both taste their sharp tang on your tongues.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he kept saying over and over in between shaky gulps of air. “Y/n, please believe me. I—”

You kissed him harder just to make him stop, swallowing his pain as best you could until his breathing evened out.

“I’ve got you, Az.” You brushed his black waves away from his forehead before kissing him there too. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Tell her. Tell her. Tell her.

Azriel’s shadows chanted in his ears. But he made them go silent.

Another day.

Let him just hold you like this for now. For as long as you would let him. Here in the stillness with you — the only person who’d ever brought him a real sense of peace and quiet — he felt it was safe to hope again.

The long stream of kisses ended too early for his liking, although he didn’t dislike the sight of your heaving chest and blushing cheeks. He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, and you seemed to be thinking the same thing as you stood between the walls of his legs, his arms wrapped loosely at your sides and yours dangling off his shoulders.

You’d kissed him. You’d kissed him.

You touched your fingertips to your lips, worry in your eyes. “Was it bad? Did I do a bad job? I’ve never—”

Azriel would have none of that. He tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you all over again. You relished in his heat and the faint tickles of shadows that encased you both in darkness, like a veil had been thrown over the room leaving everything gauzy and soft.

“You, my Y/n,” his lips brushed over the corner of your mouth, trailing down to your neck when he sighed so, so softly, “Are a marvelous kisser.”

Had you melted into a sack of bones on the floor? It certainly felt like you had. You were blushing uncontrollably, searching for something, anything, to comment on. You thought your heart might just burst out of your chest.

“You have frosting in your hair.” You plucked the white blobs off his head, feeling the sugar grains crumble between your fingers.

“I think that was meant to be dessert.”

“I think you might be right.” You tried controlling your breathing when Azriel leaned forward and kissed the bare skin of your shoulder, and failed miserably. “It’s a real shame,” you stammered, “I was looking forward to cake.”

He kissed the center of your chest next and your heart skipped a beat. “I’ll buy you all the cake in the world to make it up to you.”

“That’s a hefty promise, and a waste of cake.”

“Do you doubt me?” Azriel asked honestly. You could ask him for moonlight in a bottle, or a dress spun from spider silk, or all the stars in the sky and he’d find a way to make it happen. Some way. Somehow. He’d give you everything that was his to give, and then some.

“No. I don’t doubt you.”

“Good.”

He couldn’t help himself. He kissed you again, reveling in the faint sighs that he swallowed up and the few that escaped between your locked lips to sing in his ears. You traded kisses for hours on end, slipping them in between conversations and gentle touches. It was an exploration in intimacy that you worried might sweep you away, but Azriel was as he always was — patient and gentle — from the tips of his black hair to his scarred hands to his leather boots. And you loved every inch of him.

You clung to his shirt, the scent of soap still clinging to his skin after he’d returned from his bath and laid down in bed beside you in cotton instead of leather.

“Azriel,” You said, your voice thin and tired. The candles burned low casting shadows that flickered and twisted on the wall. But you didn’t pay any mind to shadows any longer, not when you knew they belonged to Azriel as surely as you did. “Stay.”

And who was he to deny you? He held you close, your cheek pressed against his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his heart, and he fell asleep to the rhythm of your breathing.

You woke up to the weight of Azriel draped over your body, face pressed against your breasts, arms wrapped around your waist, and the rest of him nestled in between your legs. He grounded you, wings splayed out and bathing in the sunlight that streamed through the windows.

You were pleasantly surprised that he was still asleep and you took the time to lightly trace his features, weaving your fingers through his hair until he made a sound that had your heart speeding up. Something halfway between a sigh and a groan.

He was slow and sluggish to wake, eyes blinking languidly as he registered the warm, supple body beneath him.

You.

He’d fallen asleep here with you, wrapped up in your scent until the world had faded away into blissful nothingness. He could have been asleep for eight hours or eight years and he would be none the wiser. All he knew is that you were running your fingers through his hair, and he didn’t want you to stop.

“Hey, you,” You murmured when his whisky eyes fluttered open, eyelashes casting spidery darkness over his cheekbones where his own shadows curled as if still asleep.

Azriel hummed, burying his face in your chest and sighing with his whole body. His arms rubbed up and down your sides leaving molten heat in their wake. “Please don’t tell me it's morning.”

“I’m not above lying, Azriel. It’s the middle of the night.”

His wings shook with quiet laughter, the movement of his body tickling your skin until you were grinning unabashedly.

“Then why are you awake?” Again, his words were muffled by your skin.

“Because I’m currently being crushed beneath the weight of an Illyrian warrior.”

His head shot up in alarm. He was no small male and although he’d spent centuries gaining enough strength for his wings to feel weightless on his back, he knew they were anything but. And you’d let him stay like that all night. It was a miracle you hadn’t suffocated.

Stupid. Stupid.

“I’m sorry. Gods, I didn’t mean—” He began to slide off of you. But you were laughing.

“Wait! No! I was joking. I was joking. Come back!” You wrapped your legs around his back, the sudden movement pulling him flush against you in a rush of heat that made him go stone still.

Mother, help me. He thought to himself, feeling blood travel both up and down his body.

You guided his head to your chest by the strands of his hair until he was following the curves of your silhouette once again. “I like it when you hold me like this, Azriel,” you confessed. “I don’t feel like I’m going to float away anymore. Does that make any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he whispered. He felt the same way. “You make the world go quiet, Y/n.”

It wasn’t until the clock struck twelve bells and the House’s cooking wafted through the hallways that you and Azriel finally peeled yourselves off one another, shuffling to the bathroom in a cluster of wings and loose night clothes.

Azriel watched you closely, finding new ways to love you even as you brushed your teeth side by side, bumping hips and smiling at one another shyly. He watched as you brushed your hair and washed your face, stealing kisses that left minty cool tingles on his skin.

Lucien was noticeably frowning when you and Azriel walked into the dining room, Azriel’s scent still clinging to your skin and yours to his. You’d done nothing more than sleep in the same bed, everyone was looking at you with shit-eating grins like you’d taken Azriel on the living room couch for the whole House to hear.

“You look well rested, brother,” Cassian noted over the lip of his coffee cup.

It was the best night of sleep Azriel had gotten in centuries, perhaps in his entire life.

You wordlessly traded seats with Elain at the table, leaving you and Azriel on one side and Lucien and Elain directly across. When no one was looking, he reached down and pulled your chair closer, pressing his knee against yours beneath the table. Lucien noticed — of course he did — but the blush on your cheeks was so innocent and the love in your gaze so honest that he couldn’t bring himself to make any comment. Although, he did throw a few dangerous looks Azriel’s way, looks that plainly said, If you hurt her, you’re a dead man.

Azriel only nodded faintly in reply, as if he knew what Lucien had been thinking all along and was in agreement.

But in the following weeks your brother would come to be grateful that your care for one another was not loud. It wasn’t desperate, groping hands in hallways or sultry looks that heated up crowded rooms and made people uncomfortable. It was reserved smiles and knowing glances when you independently formed the same thought at the same time, eyes latching onto one another until one of you inevitable broke away laughing.

For the first time in his life, Azriel had someone who wanted him back just as fervently, even if it was difficult to believe.

Azriel always needed to be touching you, whether it be a hand at the small of your back or the press of your shoulders together as you leaned over one of the desks at Cagniv — now that Azriel was allowed inside — with papers strewn about like dove feathers.

You were no better. You stuck close to his side where shadows lingered and sought him out in every room until you may as well have owned the space within the curve of his wings.

But things were changing. Koschei loomed taller and taller over the House like an avalanche ready to wipe Velaris off the map. Once again, everyone heard Vassa’s cries at daybreak and nightfall, and when Jurian slipped out of the attic for his own rest, he looked a little thinner and paler each time and no amount of medicine or food you and Lucien brought upstairs seemed to be helping.

Azriel tried to steal every extra second with you in the mornings. If he had his way, he’d never leave his bedroom again, content to admire the splash of sunlight over your body and your sleepy sighs. But he was still the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court and you quickly got accustomed to waking up to an empty bed with only a note on the nightstand. On those days you migrated out of whatever room you’d spent the night in — yours or Azriel’s, although the lines were blurred — often trekking to Cagniv to escape a house where strange, new faces were coming and going with more frequency: ash-pale fae from Winter, a white-haired female from Summer with skin so dark it was almost black, and golden males from Dawn with downy hawk wings. They locked themselves in Rhysand and Feyre’s office where bargains and plans were made in blood and salt.

Other days you carted your books to Feyre’s studio with Nesta and Ione in tow, perching on a stool while the High Lady crafted life out of brushstrokes like she was the Mother herself.

Feyre stood at her easel, as she had been every day this last week, with her pencil clenched between her teeth as she ignored the faint aches in her lower back and her wrist. Every line, every detail, was attended to with painstaking precision as she mapped Nesta and the old woman’s faces onto the blank canvas first with graphite, then with a thin wash, then with layers of paint that added dimension and familiarity to the two stoic faces. Feyre didn’t let her passion overtake the more clinical approach she was taking with this piece. This was not the time for free flowing movement and modernism.

This was all about realism.

Exactness.

When the High Lady placed her brush on the muddied water cup beside her, you jumped up. “Is it finished, Feyre?”

“As finished as it will ever be,” Feyre responded gravely as you took in the sight before you. Three women: Nesta, Ione, and some mixture of the two. Feyre had captured their likeness with incredible precision, using the painting to familiarize herself with their faces and the ways they could be warped and molded.

You peered over the corner of the canvas to where the two women were standing side by side. Ione lengthened her spine, cane clasped in her hands that you’d never seen her lean on with her full weight. Time had condensed her bones and stolen some of the height from her frame, but none of her sharpness. It was a trait that granted her a strange degree of likeness to Nesta, as if you’d glanced into a future where she’d never turned fae.

You looked at Feyre, then down to the vials of blood you’d collected from the pair. Already your magic was seeping into the burgundy bottles, testing its boundaries with such an unfamiliar medium as you released any hold you had on it. You looked at the High Lady and nodded.

It just might work.

“My brilliant daughter,” Helion praised, kissing you on the top of your head before disappearing in a flash of light. His empty teacup spun on the saucer.

You felt a familiar flicker of pride grow within you. Helion had spent hours pouring over your notes, your manuscript, and leaning his ear towards your plans. He was in agreement.

It just might work.

Lucien slunk out of his room after Helion’s voice disappeared and sank into the abandoned couch with his whetstone and white-bone blade. The ring of metal echoed through the room, melting into the birdsongs that slipped in through the cracked open window and the clatter of sugar spoons against a porcelain plate.

“You should tell him,” you said again, pushing a teacup over to your brother. It was a common refrain after Helion’s visits.

Lucien stared at the three cups now strewn across the coffee table. Two empty. One full and untouched. Had Helion noticed the extra one?

“I’ve had enough of High Lords for a while,” Lucien said as you poured yourself another strong cup, “When this is over, I’m taking Elain, Jurian, and Vassa back to the Human Lands.” His eyes flickered over to you briefly, “You should come live with us. You’d find it interesting how they conduct themselves. You might even learn something.”

“I’ll visit for a short time, but nothing longer than that.”

“Why not?” You lowered your gaze and blushed, unconsciously tugging your sweater higher up your neck. The sweet marks Azriel’s lips had left on your skin were long gone, but you swore you could still feel them. “You know why.” You murmured softly.

Your swollen eyes spoke of restless nights without the Shadowsinger’s hands to lull you to sleep. Azriel had gotten into the habit of stroking your cheek while you talked in bed, until the steady brush of skin against skin finally had your eyes closing shut. You missed him.

“Lucien, I understand that you want nothing to do with Helion or any other High Lord, but… You could be better. I know you could be. You could be the best High Lord of them all, if you’d only be open to it.”

Because that was Lucien’s worst fear, wasn’t it? That a time would come when Helion would leave this world and any hope for a quiet, peaceful existence with Elain would be gone.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

You touched his wrist and the blade stopped its strange singing. “‘It’s often those who think they deserve it least, that deserve it most.’ Pippin Clodshot from—”

“A Duel of Two Faces by Aechtion.”

You reared back in surprise and Lucien grinned, tapping your nose. “I do read, sister.”

The sarcasm in his voice was laid on so thickly you could only grumble in response. “I wasn’t aware you had two brain cells to rub together, brother.”

Lucien laughed so heartily and for so long that Elain and Ione stuck their heads out from the kitchen in conern.

“I thought someone was dying.” Ione rolled her eyes before her grey head disappeared once again.

You slid further under the covers, burying your face in Azriel’s pillows as the sun finally slipped behind the mountains and shadows raced each other to the Sidra.

Seven days.

Seven days of waking up to empty sheets after Azriel had jerked awake halfway through the night, bloodshot eyes searching for something you couldn’t see and that he didn’t tell you about. He’d only kissed your forehead, smoothing back your hair and murmuring something about a task he needed to take care of before shrugging on his leathers. You’d sat in bed, comforter tucked under your arms and over your chest even though you were fully clothed, and watched Azriel move around the room with a practiced air as weapons flashed in the moonlight and disappeared into his bag.

You knew all the hiding places in his room now — one of the many secrets you’d unearthed — so you didn’t find it at all strange when he captured your lips before dipping his hand beneath the mattress and pulling out a long serrated blade, perfect for sawing rope and wood.

“Where are you off to this time?”

Azriel had gone still, taking his time to shake away his thoughts before sweeping a handful of stoppered vials off his desk — sleep potions, draughts for pain and healing, subtle, painless poisons. You would know because you had helped make them.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Y/n,” He’d whispered, eyes boring into yours with a haunted look that hadn’t left him since that day in the market square.

Ten days.

Ten days of carrying around a heavy ache that every so often tightened with a feeling you couldn’t name. Almost as if it didn’t belong to you.

You paced back and forth in Azriel’s room, trying to calm a heart that hadn’t stopped racing for the last hour. You’d tried opening, then closing the windows as you curled up beneath the covers of his bed, mountain air blowing the curtains open and chilling your too hot skin. But none of it helped.

Chasing his scent in the sheets wasn’t enough anymore.

You tiptoed out of Azriel’s room, copying his silent steps and sticking to familiar shadows as you slipped through the House. Like Lucien, you tended to stay hidden whenever representatives from other Courts visited the River House. They were people Rhysand and Feyre trusted, but that didn’t mean you could erase centuries of wariness from your bones.

You heard nothing coming from Feyre’s studio, but you knew that if you were to sneak through the layers of air she’d sealed around the space, you’d meet a male carved from molten heat.

You waited in one of the spare studio rooms for the High Lord of Autumn to leave, eyes peering through the slit between the door and its hinges. If you stared for long enough, you swore you could see the air beside the door rippling with Autumn heat.

Finally, Eris Vanserra stepped into the hallway in all his striking glory, followed closely behind by Lucien. Violently red hair hovered over a pale, freckled face composed of angular lines — striking but not unkind. You thought he looked like a lit match with his wiry frame wrapped in resplendent browns, reds, and golds that spoke of forest riches. Or maybe he just looked narrow when standing next to Cassian. That was always a possibility.

“Thank you, Eris.” Feyre squeezed his hand reassuringly. She wore similarly decadent clothes. The moonstone and diamond crown perched atop her light brown hair was a rare sight, but Feyre wore it as naturally as she wore her paint splattered overalls. She was an artist and a High Lady in equal measure, and she sacrificed no part of one in favor of the other.

The newly minted High Lord of Autumn chuckled darkly, eyes flashing like a living flame. You’d heard horrible tales about Beron Vanserra, his cruelty, and his violence. But whatever traits Eris had inherited from his father he’d sloughed off like a second skin. The molting process had been full of its own pains, but as you assessed him now, you saw only the characteristics he shared with Lucien.

“Don’t thank me yet. Not until my feet have touched the Continent.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Eris tipped his head, a smirk on his face, then disappeared in a flush of woodsmoke.

Spring, Winter, Summer, Day, Dawn, and now Autumn. The seven courts had slid into an uneasy alliance once more, weary but willing after decades of war. Feyre wasn’t sure how much more Prythian could take if this transformed into another bloodbath. But if the fledgling plan you’d all helped nurse came to fruition, it wouldn’t come to that… at least that’s what Feyre kept telling herself every night so she could sleep.

The High Lady jolted back when you slipped out from your hiding spot, cast in a halo of cool-toned light from the dying sun. Cassian shared in Feyre’s surprise. They hadn’t heard you come up the stairs or pass by the door. They hadn’t even sensed you until you made your presence known.

Maybe she’s picking it up from Azriel? Feyre said with some amusement.

Gods help us all. There’s two of them.

“Where’s Azriel?” You looked to the High Lady for an answer, hands held stiff at your sides. You felt that strange anxiety clawing at your throat. It had dripped into your feelings slowly since the morning, growing like a weed until you couldn’t stop clenching your fists. “I haven’t heard from him in days.”

Feyre felt a familiar coil of guilt settle in her stomach.

Don’t tell her about this, Fey. Azriel had begged her, his eyes hard and tired before taking off from the back porch towards The Warren.

He’d made all of them promise not to tell you about that place. About what he did. About what he was doing. But you weren’t a fool. You knew of his reputation as a Shadowsinger and a Spymaster and the work that came with it. You’d traced some of the scars on his body, plucking the stories from his skin whenever he let you, and you woke up when he did from his silent nightmares. The slightest change in his breathing pattern, the barest flinch of his arm wrapped around your waist was all it took for you to open your bleary eyes and shake him awake.

But there were some secrets he was still too afraid to reveal, and some secrets he’d buried so deeply he didn’t even know what their monstrous faces looked like anymore.

“Y/n—” Feyre began.

“I want to know.” You reached for Feyre’s wrist, grasping it so tightly your knuckles paled and Cassian stepped forward. It was a silent reminder that you had the power to take that knowledge from her if you wished. You loved Feyre. You considered her a friend. But the panic wasn’t leaving you. You stared at her desperately, pupils blown wide open. “I need to know he’s alright.”

Feyre opened her mouth to speak, then froze as Rhysand’s velvety voice entered her mind, strained to the point of breaking.

Feyre, you need to bring Y/n to The Warren.

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Author's Note:

85K+ WORDS AND FINALLY THEY'VE FUCKING KISSED HOLY SHIT

I really must applaud you all for your patience because hot DAMN I am FLOORED!!! And yes, yes, I know, I know y'all want Y/n to figure out their mates and I will simply be pleading the fifth and hiding in my room and not telling anyone of you when that will actually happen because I simply cannot! ASFDK;JABSLDFIGUH

*takes a deep breath* Thank you all so much for reading and for your engagement whether that be leaving comments or liking or literally anything because it makes my day and I'm just happy that my passion project/hobby is able to bring people some smidgen of joy because the world really sucks but hey at least we have fanfics

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x you #azriel x helion's daughter

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diorcities · 1 year

Text

⠀ ⠀ ── 𖥻 ๋ 𓈒 ⭐ ࣪ ࣭ ◍ ᜔ being a sleepy head !

nct dream fluff headcanon.

jaemin. at midnight, the sheets tangle on your limbs as his fingers run down your spine in a deliberate gesture. your tongue tangles in your palate and feels heavy as you talk about trivial things while he listens patiently. smiling sweetly when you can't follow the thread of your thoughts at the speed you desire, and your eyes look one last glimpse into his loving eyes before plunging you into a deep sleep. your body is covered by a blanket and you barely hear his voice saying “let's meet again in your dreams.” warming the place where your heart rests.

haechan. he is a night person. even with his schedules, he usually has more sleep resistance than you. you've both put on a series that you've been wanting to watch together, and since I this moments don't happen very often, you plan to spend the whole day curled up next to him. his body is so warm, and his grip comforting, that you soon decide to leave him to go to the ethereal world of dreams. and among the semi-unconsciousness, you think you feel his laugh poking you, “unbelievable, why you choose that boring movie if you were going to fall asleep?” just feeling your body being gently drawn to his “i'll tell you how the movie ends in the morning.”

jisung. the different time zones had your internal clock pretty damaged and crazy, to the point where you slept all afternoon and were more than awake at night. therefore, your night endurance is greater than jisung's. even on his day off, the poor boy does nothing but sleep. silence settles in the room when you know he's not listening to you anymore, hearing to the slight snoring of the boy with the cold nose on your neck, feeling him stir between dreams, “oh- fuck,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face, “did i fall asleep?” he asks. “pretty much, yeah.” you hear his muffled laugh, but deep down it makes you happy that he rests properly, especially when you know his workday. his only response is get closer to you. “keep talking, i swear i won't fall asleep this time.” quick spoiler: he did.

mark. it is a habit to put on a film and not pay attention to it while talking and using it as background noise. both of you have fairly tight schedules, and believe it is possible to do everything at the same time, such as ordering food delivery and chatting while watching a movie. but honestly, you are so exhausted, that the film takes a back seat while you both have your intimate moment full of kisses and caresses. it's impossible not to fall asleep for both of you. and even in the limbo of dreams, you're there with him, and he's talking to you while he sleeps, “i love you.”

renjun. he does not usually rest for long, and many times (only when you are aware that he is not by your side sleeping) you see him at his desk writing new entries in his diary, or painting with his watercolors. you are aware, too, that he does that when he is very overwhelmed or overloaded with things. and even when he goes back to bed the moment you notice his absence and wake up, or call his name, you worry that he's keeping him hidden from you; the way he uses art to release all the weight that keep him awake. “you scared me,” he pronounces shyly when you approach him and rest your head on his shoulder, “i woke you up? forgive me...” he stops his word when you shake your head, “should we go to bed, then?” he wonders, but again, you deny. “finish this first, love.” you smile tenderly, snuggling into him as he returns to his drawing: somewhat kind of similar to you.

chenle. having a tight schedule makes it difficult to see chenle often. you never seem to coincide because you leave first thing in the morning and when you arrive exhausted to sleep, chenle returns until late at night. he scolds you on occasion when you insist on staying up even when you both know that means you'll feel sleepy at work. in the end, he lets you do what you want, because deep down, he misses your long chats before going to bed. “so... one of my... coworkers said...” your eyelids close on their own, you swear by your life. and your tongue feels so heavy, but you must keep going, because seriously, seriously it's funny, “have you- seen my... sandwich?... and i said..., it's in...” chenle waits for the punchline while he strokes your hair, but it never comes, so with a amused smile dancing on his lips, he turns off the lamp. “your mouth?” he wonders at the ceiling, widening his eyes, “the toilets?”

jeno. the letters change places when you look at them for a long time. you blink, your eyelids heavy linger towards the empty coffee cup next to your notes; your attempt to do an all-nighter has been unsuccessful as you feel the sleep spell take control of your body. “come, darling,” seems to whisper sandman in your ear. as you are in the limbo between the two universes, your body seems to float and be welcomed by his warm embrace, followed by the gentle movement that lullies you back when jeno takes you to his room.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream headcanons #nct dream fluff #nct dream fluff headcanons #haechan fluff #mark lee fluff #jaemin fluff #jeno fluff #renjun fluff #chenle fluff #jisung fluff #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #♡dream

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weirdkpopgirl · 6 months

Text

Stealing Kisses | Dream Reaction #14

Reaction: When their gf steals a kiss from them

Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some

Warnings: insecure thoughts, kinda suggestive, light making out in Jaemin's, kissing (obviously lol)

Word Count: ~3.1k

Author's Note: This idea came to me last week I think, and I thought it'd be fun to write. I think you guys like this type of stuff too lol. It was also nice to write something sweet and fluffy, a break from my recent stuff. Hope you all like it and thank you for reading ^ ^

P.S. I'm currently have a few fics I'm working on. But I'm going to try writing some shorter stories for the members and group things to fill up my second masterlist.

~ ~ ~

mark

The two of you were lying side by side on his bed, your gazes fixed on the ceiling. Mark was sharing his late-night thoughts, and you were listening attentively. Nights like these were a regular occurrence, mostly because Mark often had something weighing on his mind. Though it was usually just him recounting his busy day, tonight things seemed to carry a more serious tone.

“Sometimes, I’m just really not satisfied with myself,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Like so many people are relying on me— with the company, 127 and Dream. Then there are the fans too, I don’t want to fail them. But no matter how much time and energy I put in, it’s not enough.”

You carefully processed your boyfriend’s concerns, trying to put yourself in his shoes. It was so easy to say he was just overthinking and shouldn’t worry so much. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, given that you faced similar struggles. Those dismissive words weren’t what either of you needed to hear. Mark was undoubtedly the most hardworking person you knew, but you understood all too well the feeling of never quite doing enough.

Before speaking this time, you opted for a different approach of consolation. You shifted around to gently place your hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. With closed eyes, you leaned in to kiss him softly. Your lips moved slowly against his, hoping he could feel the comfort of your touch. Soon enough, Mark’s hand rested comfortably on your back, reciprocating the affection.

You stifled a light giggle as you pulled away, catching his slightly confused expression. Offering a small smile you used your thumb to caress his cheek reassuringly.

“You’re doing great, Mark,” you whispered sincerely. “You might not think so at times, but I’m always so proud of you.”

And it was those words that caused tears to gloss over Mark’s eyes. Then he was pulling you into a much-needed embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. You could feel the warmth of his smile as he mumbled, “Babe, I love you so much.”

Though you didn’t necessarily need to return the words for him to understand, you still said you loved him too. He deserved it, after all. He deserved every bit of love, understanding, and support. And you were more than willing to give it to him, wholeheartedly.

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renjun

You emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of freshly cut mango in your hand. Renjun was sitting at the table, fully absorbed in the watercolor painting in front of him. Seeing him use the paint set you got for his birthday brought a smile to your face. He was so engrossed in the activity that he almost didn’t hear you sit in the empty chair beside him.

Renjun momentarily glanced up from his artwork to greet you. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you replied quietly, carefully placing the plate of fruit on the table. The two of you shared a smile before his attention was on painting again.

For a moment, you paused to admire the way his focused expression softened his features, making him even more endearing in your eyes. You always found joy in watching your boyfriend immerse himself in the things he loved. Renjun consistently poured his heart and soul into everything he did, and that dedication was one of the many reasons your relationship flourished so beautifully.

After a few minutes passed by of you silently observing the boy, you leaned into place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush followed.

“What was that for?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity.

You simply shrugged in response before confessing, “Just thought you looked cute.”

Renjun’s soft chuckle was like honey for your ears, and you couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh is that so?” he teased, amusement twinkling in his eyes even as his gaze softened when he looked at you.

Now it was your turn to feel shy, heat naturally rushing to your face. Without a word, you reached for a slice of mango and lifted it to Renjun’s lips, quietly offering the yellow piece of fruit to him. Lucky for you, his eyes sparkled with fondness as he accepted the treat.

However, he didn’t waste the chance to quickly steal a kiss from your lips, before taking a bite. Your eyes mirrored the surprise he had experienced earlier, and Renjun laughed now the tables had been turned. He savored the sweetness of the mango, just as he savored the sweet moment shared between the two of you.

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jeno

You weren’t exactly expecting to return home to Jeno sprawled across your sofa. It was late at night, and you technically should have been back in your apartment much earlier. However, you got caught up in helping your friend rehearse for an audition and lost track of time. If you had known your boyfriend would be coming, you definitely would’ve gone home sooner.

After quietly removing your shoes and shedding off your jacket, you carefully crossed the room to check the man resting on the couch. He looked so peaceful with his eyes blissfully shut and the pillow he held close to his chest. Yet, you couldn’t help but frown, thinking about how he must’ve been exhausted from work. While he never complained, you usually saw through his facade.

With a barely audible sigh, you fetched a cozy blanket to drape over him and tucked it snugly around his sleeping form. Leaning down, your lips pressed to his forehead and let your lips linger for a moment before pulling away. You straightened up, ready to start your nightly routine before heading to bed yourself. However, you froze when a warm hand tugged at your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, almost sounding like a child begging his mom not to leave.

The unexpected sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat. “Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized sheepishly, turning back to see him.

He shifted over a bit to give you some space, and you sat down beside him. Without thinking, your hand subconsciously moved to stroke his hair gently. He hummed at the sensation, appreciating any sort of affection from you.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it,” he said softly, leaning further into your touch. “Do you always kiss me when I’m asleep?”

“Sometimes,” you admitted quietly, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.

A small pout formed on his lips in response. “You should just kiss me when I’m awake so I can give you one back.”

His words would’ve sounded playful if they hadn’t been spoken in such a sulky tone. But of course, you sort of expected this reaction from Jeno. Chuckling softly, your embarrassment gradually began to melt away.

Moving your hand to caress his face, you casually said, “Well you can give me one now if you’d like.”

With your permission, Jeno happily sat up to pull you closer for a kiss that made your head spin. Nonetheless, it was a tender moment that left you both with silly smiles as you parted. Afterward, you took his hand in yours and suggested you both move to the bedroom so he could sleep more comfortably.

Later, as you cuddled up together in bed, Jeno smiled to himself as he felt a rush of love he felt for you. Even though it was past one a.m., he still found himself falling for you all over again.

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haechan

To say the least, Haechan was a little restless just chilling in his apartment with you. Usually, he liked being at home, especially with your company. But the original plan for today was to have a lovely date at Han River, which was forfeited due to the ongoing thunderstorm outside. He regretted not looking at the weather forecast beforehand.

So to cure his self-proclaimed “boredom,” Haechan proposed the idea of playing the pepero game. At first, you tried to decline, knowing that you’d be signing up for endless teasing and blushing on your part. That didn’t sound very fun to you.

“Oh come on, babe!” he pleaded, shaking the pepero box. “I won’t be annoying this time, promise.”

Knowing he was going to keep whining until you agreed, you reluctantly set aside the book you were using to ignore him. “Ugh, fine. But just this once!” you conceded, holding your pointer finger up as a warning.

Haechan grinned triumphantly as he tore open the bag inside the box to retrieve a Pepero stick. He moved to where you were sitting on the couch and lifted the chocolate-covered treat to your lips, gesturing to open it. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly complied and took the stick with your teeth. Haechan took hold of the other end, his eyes already sparkling with mischief.

As the two of you started nibbling, Haechan promptly contradicted his earlier promise of not being annoying. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you hesitated after he took the next bite, leaving only a few centimeters left. No matter how often you had been in close proximity with your boyfriend, there was something uniquely captivating about the way his warm tan skin was adorned with scattered moles, and how you could get lost in his deep brown eyes. Seeing those features up close always stirred a weirdly fluttery sensation in your heart.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy already, (Y/n),” he teased, his words slightly muffled by the long biscuit between his teeth. You merely glared at him in response, unwilling to admit how easily you were influenced by him.

To rebel, you decided to make a bold move of your own this time. Despite your racing heart, you seized the opportunity and bit the remaining piece, but not without planting a swift kiss on his lips. Haechan froze for a moment as you pulled away. A laugh escaped when you saw that he was too stunned to speak. Well, that was one way to shut him up.

Feigning innocence, you asked, “That’s what you wanted, am I wrong?”

It didn’t take long for a grin to spread across the boy’s lips. The initial shock of your unexpected kiss was replaced by a look of amusement. In the next moment, his right arm encircled your waist, drawing you close once more. You didn’t even have time to blush before his lips began to explore every exposed inch of your skin.

“You’re so bad for me,” he murmured between kisses, his fingers tangling your hair. “But I love it.”

You giggled, surrendering to the warmth of his affection. Maybe you’d be more inclined to indulge in games with Haechan now, knowing they’d end up like this.

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jaemin

In the solace of his apartment, Jaemin observed you interact with his cats in the living room. Usually, he’d be cooing and snapping a hundred pictures of you and his children. However, he wasn’t very amused at the moment.

Na Jaemin never thought he’d be jealous of his babies until he saw Luke rubbing against your leg and hopping into your lap. Your giggly response and the way you tenderly stroked your fingers through the feline’s soft white hair, certainly didn’t make him feel any better. Although he loved his pets dearly, seeing them snuggle up to you so easily made him feel a bit envious.

“Hmmph, it seems like you’ve become more fond of Luke than your own boyfriend,” he scoffed, not even bothering to hide it.

You looked up, noticing how he was resting his head in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the couch’s armrest. His body language fully displayed his discontent, and you tried not to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you returned Luke to his siblings and tugged the collar of Jaemin’s hoodie to pull him in for a sweet kiss.

Any negative feelings dissipated instantly as his heart fluttered at the touch of your lips against his. Warmth spread through him like wildfire. But before he could reciprocate the kiss, you pulled away with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Does that make you happy?” you teased, gently pushing him back to give yourself some space.

Adoration shined over Jaemin’s eyes as he grinned. “Hm, I think another one would make me even happier,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

Before you could even respond this time, Jaemin was already leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent sparks flying between you. One of his hands rested on the nape of your neck, allowing him to press his lips harder against yours, while the other was placed firmly on your waist. Though you were initially caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, you decided to enjoy this moment of intimacy.

As you melted into each other’s arms, Jaemin was reminded once again of just how amazing it felt to be loved by you. Honestly, if he could have one wish, he’d probably wish to kiss you forever.

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chenle

The steaming pot of oxtail soup stared up at you, and you lowered the heat to let it simmer some more. It was your first time cooking the Chinese soup. But recalling how your mom used to make it when you were younger, figuring it on your own hadn’t been too difficult. Although you were mostly confident in your culinary skills, you still wanted to be sure.

“Lele, can you come here for a sec?” you called out to your boyfriend who was probably playing some mobile game in the living room.

You could hear rustling sounds, and soon the sound of slippers padding against the wooden floor reached your ears. “Smells good babe,” he said, shuffling over to your side.

Something about seeing Chenle waddle into the kitchen, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood over his messy hair, made your heart strangely beat faster. But instead of ignoring that feeling like you usually did, you decided to act on it this time.

After dipping a spoon in the red broth, you raised the utensil to his mouth. “Taste it for me.”

Chenle complied, allowing you to feed him some of the soup. You tried to suppress a laugh as a smug yet impressed expression appeared on his face. However, before he could give you his feedback, you swiftly leaned in to give him a peck.

The male froze for a moment at your actions. You chuckled softly and hugged his waist, as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened in surprise before the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. A part of him wanted to tease you for stepping out of your shy image, but he also found himself enjoying it a little too much.

“Did you like it?” you asked, glancing up at him innocently.

Chenle’s cocky grin widened as he leaned in closer. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as he used his pointer finger to gently tilt your chin upward. “Wait, let me taste it again to just be sure,” he teased.

It didn’t take much for you to understand that he was not talking about the food. You simply smiled as his lips brushed against yours before he went all in. Shivers danced down your spine as you melted into the electrifying kiss. By the time you finally pulled apart, Chenle was smiling like an idiot.

“Hm, that was delicious,” he breathed, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from you. Even though you had started it, his comment was unnecessary in your opinion. Was he trying to kill you?

Trying to recover from your now flustered state, you returned your attention to the brewing pot on the stove. Chenle’s laugh rang through your ears, and then he was squeezing you into a backhug. It was those types of moments that reassured you that being with Chenle could never be boring.

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jisung

Amidst the dark sky, the street lamps cast a soft, golden glow as you walked back to your apartment. Jisung strolled beside you, holding your hand securely. Occasionally, you smiled to yourself, thinking about how tonight had been another lovely date, filled with laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances that spoke volumes without a single word.

As you neared your apartment building, you felt Jisung’s fingers intertwined with yours tighten. A sense of reluctance washed over him, realizing that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye tonight yet. Your presence always brought Jisung a sense of warmth that made him the happiest when you were together. He wanted to experience that just a little while longer.

Pausing in front of your door, your eyes widened when you were pulled into a tight embrace. Jisung seemed clingier than usual this evening, but you honestly couldn’t complain. You returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your nose press against the oversized hoodie he was wearing. The scent of the perfume Renjun recently bought for him filled your senses. It wasn’t bad, you thought to yourself.

“I miss you already,” Jisung murmured, his chin relaxing against your head.

The soft longing in his voice left your heart melting. These were the types of words you expected to read in texts from Jisung. So hearing them in person was even more touching. A smile tugged on your lips and you pulled away slightly to glance around, ensuring there were no cameras around. Once you confirmed there were no prying eyes that might stir trouble for either of you, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a quick but passionate kiss to Jisung’s lips.

He blinked in surprise, heat immediately rushing to his cheeks as the unexpected affection registered through his mind. Any kiss from you always made his heart flutter and left him wearing a shy smile. Nonetheless, witnessing the fondness in your eyes as you were blushing too was irresistible for Jisung.

Chuckling he moved his hand to gently pat your head. “Cute.”

You blushed a little at his words and squeezed in one last hug before he reluctantly released you to head inside.

“I love you, Ji,” you said quietly, glancing back one last time to ensure he heard you. He exhaled shakily and said he loved you more.

There was an unspoken sadness shared between you, both feeling the weight of the parting. The two of you were uncertain of when or where you’d meet again. However, you found comfort in the knowledge that the love you had with Jisung was too strong to let too much time pass without seeing each other. In the meantime, you would cherish those precious memories together.

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previous masterlist -> new masterlist

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct #jeno #nct dream fluff #jaemin #renjun #mark #haechan #jisung #chenle #nct dream x reader #nct dream reactions #7dream #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios

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thebearer · 1 year

Text

i'll be so happy loving you |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a two for one special- the proposal and the elopement :) or how you and carmen get married.

contains: language, alludes to sexual references, some smut at the end but not super graphic. mainly just lovey dovey fluff!!!

Six Weeks Earlier

“Looks pretty in here, bear.” You hum, looking around the newly renovated restaurant. “I love that painting.” Now that The Bear was bringing in some revenue, Carmen and Sydney could decorate more how they envisioned, tiny touches that made the place dazzle- look and feel more like how they dreamed it would be.

“Yeah? Like it better than the old one?” Carmen grinned, arms looping around your waist, cheek pressed lazily to your own.

You melted into his touch, nodding gently. “Yeah. Much better.” You turn so your noses are nearly touching. “A lot better than that watercolor piece.”

Carmen snorted. “Yeah, I told Sugar it looked weird. Told her we needed fuckin’ abstract or somethin’.”

You looked at the painting, a configuration of muted lines and colors that somehow fit the aesthetic of the restaurant perfectly. “Yeah, I think everyone will like it. Looks perfect.” You mutter, lips brushing against Carmen’s cheek for a sweet kiss. He shouldn’t have flustered so easily, but how could he not? When you kissed him, looked at him, loved him this way.

“So what’s on the menu for tonight?” You asked, turning in Carmen’s arms, lazily looping your own around his neck.

“We’re closed tonight.” Carmen hoped you couldn’t feel the pounding in his heart, running his clammy hands down your waist while your brows knitted together. “Got a private event.”

“Private event? Ooh, very fancy, chef.” You quipped. “How did I miss that? I swear it wasn’t on the calendar-”

“-It wasn’t.” Carmen said quickly, far too quickly to be cool and unsuspecting like he’d hoped. You pulled back, a little shocked at his tone, his hands pulling you back to him, running soothingly down your spine. “I mean… It's a private party. A sort of celebration just for all of us. For the staff. Since we’ve been, uh, doin’ so good.”

You paused for a moment, eyes darting all over his face, trying desperately to read his expression. Carmen hoped you couldn’t see through him, hoped that the lie Richie made him rehearse would work on you. Hoped he wouldn’t ruin this like he ruined everything else.

“That’s sweet.” Your pursed lips melted into a smile. “I think that’ll be really nice, Carm. That’s very sweet. They deserved it. You deserve it, Carm.”

Carmen blushed, letting his eyes fall down between the two of you. He was still getting used to that, after all this time, the sweet compliments you gave him freely. Not as an apology or to get something out of him- use it to control him like others had.

“You deserve it too, y’know.” Carmen could feel his chest beating, rising and stomach turning the way it did when his heat rate picked up. The rational voice in his head was telling him there was nothing to be worried about, but it was a hushed whisper compared to the roar of “what if’s” and self doubting screams that took over.

Your lips curled in a little smile. You didn’t agree, but you didn’t argue either. Carmen could feel the lurch of his heart flutter back down into his chest. “So, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

You laughed, brows lifting in amusement. “Oh? It’s a date? Thought this was staff appreciation.”

“More like a fancy kinda family.” Carmen schmoozed you easily. “But one where you should maybe wear that dress? Or really, whatever you want, but ya know… I’ll be dressed up and so will everyone else. It’s stupid, but-but I wanted it to be nice like the real experience sorta thing-”

“-Carm,” You cut off his rambling with a hand cradling his jaw, thumb gliding over the stubble on his chin. “I think it’s really sweet. I’ll dress up. Thanks for giving me a heads up. I don’t want to be a jack off in jeans.”

“A what?” Carmen barked out a laugh. “A jack off?” You frowned, nodding slightly. Carmen bit back his laugh, lips pulling in a wide smile. “It's a jag-off, baby. Gotta let it roll off the tongue.”

You blushed, rolling your eyes at him to hide your own embarrassment. “You’re a jagoff, Berzatto.” You jammed your finger into his chest, leaving him laughing.

Present

“This is it.” Carmen muttered, pushing the creaking door of the house open. You looked around the room, dimly lit with creaking planks of wood for floors. House plants everywhere and the sound of the waves rolling gently on the water outside when the boats cruised by.

“This is it, hm?” You grinned, looking around while Carmen set the bags down by the door, nervously tracking you.

“Yeah. It-It’s not a lot, baby, I told you it wouldn’t be. But I-I just… Wait until you see the view in the morning or-or at sunset, when it goes down over the water it’s so clear, you won’t believe it-”

“-Carmen,” You laughed lightly, a grin so wide your cheeks were hurting. “It’s perfect. Cute, I love it.” You giggled, pushing the blinds open to let the light in. Carmen’s chest aches with the release of tension from hearing that- that you liked it.

“So where’s this cat?” You hum, ducking under the table and couch to look, eyes scanning the small space of the boat house.

“The cat that doesn’t exist?” Carmen snorted lightly.

“You and Marcus say that but I know it’s here.” You hum, scanning the room for a cat door, anyway that the animal might come in and out. “Probably just scared of the two of you.”

“Kinda the charm of this place, honey. You don’t see the cat. Just feed the invisible cat and water the plants.” Carmen was beaming, watching your frame illuminated by the bright Denmark sun shining in through the windows.

“Hm, I’m gonna see this cat before I leave.” You declared, checking the cabinets, the hall closets- all the places your own cat liked to hide. Anchovy, you and Carmen’s precious boy, found in the dumpster outside of The Bear.

Carmen’s lips quipped in a smirk. “I wanna see your cat. How about that, hm?” It was corny, cheesy, made you cringe and laugh and gag exaggeratedly all at the same time; which is exactly why he said it. Arms wrapping around your waist, he pulled you close, lips hovering over yours.

“Carm,” You sighed gently, a trace of a giggle following with the breathy moan that hitched in your throat when his hands kneaded the fat of your ass. “Thought we had to meet your friend later? I still have to get ready and shower-”

“-We got two hours, baby.” Carmen purred, tongue running over your bottom lip teasingly, feeling you tense under his touch. “C’mon, we got time. I’ll take a shower with you, too. Save time.”

You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes. He was insatiable, and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you here, back at the “most beautiful fuckin’ place on Earth” according to Carmen. He looked so good, so pretty. The way the sunlight would catch in his eyes. They were brighter here, bluer. You didn’t know how that was possible, but it was, and it left you clinging to his hand while you strolled down the street, gazing into his eyes positively dopey and love drunk.

“You gotta be quick.” You pointed at him with an exaggerated glare, already giving in. “Not like last night. We almost missed our flight, bear.”

“But we didn’t.” Carmen grinned, his breath hot when it trailed down your cheek to your jaw, leaving wet, sloppy kisses in its wake, hands tilting your head back gently to get to your neck.

Carmen walked you back towards the kitchen table, hands gripping and sliding down your waist up to your neck. “You just look s’pretty. My pretty girl.”

You blushed, enveloping his lips fully, letting yourself melt into him, maybe he was melting into you- the two of you molding into each other, fusing together like it was your only purpose in life. Your legs around his waist, lying back on the rickety oak table that Carmen assured “It’ll be fine, just relax, baby. I got ya.” His hand in yours while he rolled deeply inside of you, skin to skin, a chorus of whines and mewls mixing in harmony in the kitchen.

Six Weeks Earlier

“Oh, looks like we’re early.” You look around the restaurant. The tables were set and lights dim, but only you and Carmen seemed to be the ones in it.

“Uh, they-they finished late, but, uh, they’ll be here.” Carmen stuttered, hands running down the front of his pants again, eyes darting around the room.

Your eyes narrowed lightly, but shook it off. Carmen was nervous, he had been for weeks. You thought it was because of the restaurant’s new Michelin star holder status, or maybe because of the countless interviews and press that came with it. Still, that had been weeks ago, the press had died down slightly, and Carmen was still anxious.

“Ah, good evening, folks.” Richie beamed, sliding behind the hostess stand. “How are the two of you this fine night?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Great, Richie. How are you?” You played along.

“I am having a lovely night, even better not that you are here.” Richie schmoozed, leaving you snorting lightly at his dramatics. “Right this way.”

“So what time does everyone get here?” You ask, sliding into the booth.

“Oh, they’ll be here soon.” Richie said easily, calming your suspicions. “I'll go ahead and get you two started while you wait.”

“So you didn’t get the night off?” You laugh gently.

“Someone’s gotta take care of everything, sweetheart.” Richie shrugged. “Champagne? Or is that too early?”

Carmen’s eyes flashed at Richie. “I just want water, Cousin.”

If there was any hostility, Richie didn’t seem to notice, simply turning to you. “And for the lovely lady?”

“Uh, I’m good with water for now too.” You nodded. “I’ll wait until everyone else gets here.”

“Wonderful.” Richie grinned, eyes cutting in a glare towards Carmen’s. “I’ll be back with that for the two of you.”

You waited until Richie was gone, turning to Carmen carefully. “Hey, what was that?” You asked.

“What?” Carmen tried to appear calm and chill, his body tensing beside you. “What-What was what?”

Your brows furrowed. “Carmen… Are you ok?” You asked, reaching out to grab his hand lightly. His hands were clammy, tensing in yours, and pulling away quickly to wipe the perspiration on his jeans. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“No.” Carmen shook his head furiously. He felt like he might throw up and sob at the same time. Felt like his own heart might just give out entirely. “I’m fine, baby, I promise. I’m just… I’m still trying to figure out the summer menu. Make sure it’s good because we’ve never done that before. That’s what we’re trying tonight, and-and I just hope it’s good, ya know?” It wasn’t a total lie, Carmen was worried about the menu and you were testing it tonight.

You seemed to believe him, his chest loosening when you scooched closer to him, cuddled together in the booth. “It’ll be good. You know it will, bear.” You hummed, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, laughing when you pulled apart. “Shit, I’m sorry I forgot I have lipstick on.” You giggle, wiping the imprint away lightly off his blushing cheeks.

“Sorry for the wait.” Richie hummed, dropping the two waters off easily with the new starter for you to try. A classic Mediterranean salad and pita spruced up “Sydney style” as you would say. The term had caught on in the kitchen, finding its way into the names and actions done there. Carmen loved it. Loved the way you said it, the way the staff said it, that it came from you.

“I’ll leave this here, and I’ll be back with the first course.” Richie smiled.

“Richie, why don’t you sit with us and try it until the others get here?” You nodded to the spot beside you.

Carmen froze and so did Richie, the two of them looking at each other for only a moment- but it was a moment too long. Your suspicions rose again, eyes flickering between the two of them. “Ya know, I would love to, but I gotta help the newbies in the kitchen.” Richie said easily. “Gotta make sure they got everything covered. I’m head chef tonight.”

You didn’t laugh or roll your eyes like you normally would. Instead, you glared at him lightly. Richie’s eyes flashed to Carmen’s. “Alright, well, uh, if the two of you need anything? I’m your guy, alright?”

You waited until he was back in the kitchen, Carmen’s eyes focused on the food, knee bouncing furiously under the table. “Carmen, look at me.” You demanded, turning to him fully. His eyes lifted hesitant towards yours, wide and round like a child caught coloring on the walls. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’, baby, I promise.” Carmen said quickly, trying to soothe you but his rigid, frantic tone didn’t help.

“Carmen-”

“-It’s nothing.” Carmen said, matching your firm tone. “Just Richie bein’... I dunno what the fuck he’s doin’. Pissin’ me off.” Carmen grumbled, shaking his head.

“Did you two get in a fight or something?” You pressed. “Is that why you’re being weird?”

Carmen blinked. “Yes.” He blurted. That wasn’t true, not even remotely. He and Richie had been getting along great, actually, for once. But if it would throw off your suspicions, then he’d gladly throw Richie under the bus- this once.

“Oh.” You frowned lightly. “Why? I thought you guys were getting along?”

“You know how Richie is.” Carmen rolled his eyes for emphasis. “He just… He can’t keep his fuckin’ mouth shut.”

“What did he say?” You asked, reaching for the pita, scooping it in the blended dip of sorts.

“Just… It was stupid and gross. I really don’t want to talk about it.” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t wanna talk about him. Wanna talk to you. How is it?”

You hummed, chewing lightly. “Amazing. As always.” You beamed proudly at Carmen. “I told you it would be. You’re the best, bear.”

Carmen blushed, chewing on his own piece. It was good. Sydney had found the perfect balance, she always did. “Well, this is Syd, not me. Can’t take the credit for this one.”

“Mm, I thought it tasted very Sydney style.” You giggled.

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded, hoping you didn’t see the way his hands shook when he took a sip of water. He could barely eat, barely drink around the lump in his throat. “She did most of this, but, uh, I did the dessert.”

“You did?” You gawked gently. “Not Marcus?”

“No.” Carmen nudged you lightly. “Well, he helped a little. But it was mostly me. He said I could take the credit on this one”

“That bad, huh?” You laughed. “Marcus doesn’t even want to put his name on it? Yikes.”

Carmen rolled his eyes, grinning fondly at you. “I think you’ll like it.”

You eyed him playfully. “Well, I have high hopes, Berzatto.”

Me too. Carmen thought, shoving another torn piece of pita in his mouth, hand rubbing anxiously over his pocket again.

Present

“So the two of you met in school?” You ask, hand on Carmen’s knee under the table, lightly rubbing over his slacks soothingly.

“Yes. And he was so much better than me, I thought about dropping out every single day.” Luca grinned playfully at Carmen. “You know, that’s why I went to pastry? Because I knew I’d never compete with Carmen in the other areas, but making a tart? I could outdo him on a tart.”

“I could never get the crust right.” Carmen shrugged. “Could never figure out how to get it flaky enough. Used to drive me fuckin’ insane.”

Luca grinned smugly, refilling his own glass of wine. “Well, your chef, Marcus, has got it. Might have it even better than me. Real talent on that one.”

“Yeah.” Carmen beamed. “He’s good. Real good.”

“He is.” Luca nodded, before looking over at you. “I’m sorry, darling, I don’t want to be rude, talking about all this cooking nonsense. I’m sure you’ve had enough of that back home.”

“Oh, no. I love to hear about it.” You beamed, reassuringly. “I wish I could cook like that. You can ask Carm, I’m a hopeless cook. Horrible at it.”

“No, you’re not, c’mon.” Carmen shook his head lightly at you. “She’s good. Can make a better grilled cheese than any of us.”

Luca grinned at your blush, the way Carmen pulled you into his side lovingly. It was good to see Carmen like this. The last time, right after Mikey’s death, Carmen was dull. It worried Luca. Carmen had always been tightly wound, anxious, meticulous to a fault, but it seemed to get more extreme- damaging. It was refreshing to see him now. Luca could hardly recognize him, the relaxed, cool man in front of him. No ounce of competition in his tone, his guard down for once. Here with you; happy with you.

“So, I hope I’m not overstepping, but I have to ask.” Luca said, leaning forward on the table gently. “Why here? Why not at home for the two of you? Not that I mind, at all, of course. I’m honored, but I have to know why here?”

You looked at Carmen, lashes batting lightly. “Well, Carmen always said it was the most beautiful place he’d ever been. Marcus, too. And… I dunno, I’d always wanted to come, so we figured why not?”

“This place has always been good for me, ya know?” Carmen muttered, his knee bouncing lightly. “I-I… nothin’ bad has ever happened here like it has other places.” He didn’t need to say it, you both knew. “It’s always been good, and-and I wanna keep the good. We’re already good, I just wanna do it somewhere good, too.”

Luca nodded slowly, lifting his own wine glass up to the two of you. “Well, then; to keeping the good.” He grinned, his glass clinking against your own when they touched. “And I’m honored to be a part of this, really.”

“Thank you for bein’ a part of it.” Carmen said, jaw clenched with emotion. “Means a lot, Luca. I, uh, I-I really-”

“Don’t mention it, friend. I’m happy to. Excited, really, for the two of you.” Luca nodded warmly.

“We are too.” You grin, beaming up at Carmen lovingly.

“Yeah… yeah we are.” Carmen hummed, hand sliding down your hip and squeezing it gently.

Six Weeks Earlier

“I think it’s great, but you know me, bear. I’d eat chicken tenders every day if I could.” You giggled.

“Still?” Carmen beamed, eyes dazzling in amusement, huddled into you in the booth like you two were the only two in the restaurant- and well, you were. You hadn’t seemed to notice, thankfully.

“Thought I finally got you outta that?” Carmen teased.

“Nuh-uh, no way, bear. I’m still a tender defender-”

“-Tender defender?” Carmen howled in laughter.

“Yes! I love chicken tenders, and frankly, your disdain for them is off putting, Berzatto. You should love and appreciate all foods, Mr. Michelin star Chef of the year.” You tickled his side lightly, making him squirm gently, a little blushy under your praise.

“Yeah, maybe not tenders. Nuggets? I can get behind nuggets.” Carmen hummed, his smile falling gently when he saw Richie come out, holding the small covered tray. His heart hammered, feeling his stomach turn while you still giggled beside him.

“And dessert is here.” Richie said smoothly, eyes cutting to Carmen’s.

“Ooh, what is it?” You asked, reaching over to pull the cloche off.

“Eh, eh, hold on.” Richie pulled it away gently. “The Chef,” His eyes cut dramatically to Carmen’s. “Wants it to be a surprise. Wants to surprise you himself.”

You looked at Carmen, an amused grin on your lips. “Oh, does he?” You quip.

Richie winked at Carmen, backing away. “Enjoy, you two.”

Carmen waited until the doors shut to look at you, sure his heart was going to stop entirely. “So?” You lifted a brow, a finger tracing the bottom plate lightly. “What’s the big surprise?”

Carmen’s heart fluttered in his chest at your smile, wiping his hands one more time on his pants before he grasped the lid, a white knuckled grip so his shaking would still. “You, uh, you remember how Marcus was talking that one time about the cake he had in Copenhagen? And how-how it was the best thing he’d ever had?” Fuck, he was stuttering, his mind racing, and his hands were clamming all over again.

“Yeah, the sponge one, right?” You asked, nodding gently.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one.” Carmen nodded. “So, uh, I was thinking… You should try it.”

“Oh?” You grinned, eyes flashing to him excitedly. “Is that what this is? Carmen, that’s so sweet-”

“-No.” Carmen shook his head, watching your face fall in confusion. “Fuck, I mean, yeah, it is- it’s- I’m just-” Carmen took a deep breath, trying to still his nerves, stop his ramblings. “I think you should try it for yourself,” His hands shook when he pulled the lid off, revealing the plate.

You gawked, looking at the tiny sponge cake, covered in a thin layer of chocolate separating the many layers, a dollop of cream of some sorts on top. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. No, it was the two tickets sticking out of the top, plane tickets to Copenhagen.

“Carmen…” You gasped lightly, looking at him with bright eyes that made his heat leap.

“I think you should get to try it for yourself, there.” Carmen grinned. “I-I want us to go together and try it.”

“Carmen, oh my god, this is-this is just… You’re so fuckin’ sweet.” You grin, hands grabbing his cheeks, pulling him into you in a hard kiss. One that had his mind stilling, body melting to yours. Kissing you always made him feel like that. Like he had no other purpose than to just kiss you, and to him, maybe he didn’t.

“This is so sweet. I-I can’t wait!” You squealed, hugging him tightly. “Oh, I want to go to that restaurant your friend works at! And maybe we could go to those gardens? I saw them on TikTok and I’ve wanted to go so badly since then.”

Carmen nodded, your head on his chest, he was sure now that you could hear his heart still hammering. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. Whatever you want to do.” His eyes closed, taking a cleansing breath. Carmen looked at you, the excitement in your eyes. It’s now or never, Berzatto. Let it rip.

“There’s, uh, o-one more thing I’d like to do.” Carmen shuddered, sliding away from you gently, his hand slipping in his pocket as casually as he could.

You were bubbly, positively giddy with excitement, you didn’t even notice it. “Yeah? What else? Anything, baby.”

Carmen fought back a tiny laugh, his sweaty hand clasped in front of you, free one taking your hand. “I, uh, I-I… I wanna marry you?”

Your breath hitched, body stilling. You were sure you’d heard him wrong, grip tightening in his. “W-What?”

Carmen’s hand opened slowly, revealing the ring, dazzling even in the low light of the restaurant. Your breath hitched, falling out of your lungs sharply at the sight.

“I wanna marry you.” Carmen repeated, steadier this time even of the rapid fire beats of his heart. “I mean, I want to marry you even if it’s not there, but-but we talked about a destination wedding if we ever did… And-And I… I can’t imagine living another day without you. I have never loved anything- anyone the way I loved you. Never been loved the way you love me, and… I want to do it every single day for the rest of my life.”

Your lip wobbled, tears pricking your eyes as Carmen picked up the ring, holding it between his pointer and thumb. Your eyes flickered back to his. “You're the best person I’ve ever met; I ever will meet, baby. You’re-you’re fun, and you’re caring and sweet, and you always are so good to me. Even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Carm-”

“-No, I mean it. You are. You are the best. And I love you so much, it-it makes my fuckin’ chest hurt sometimes how much I love you.” Carmen let out a breathy laugh. Your own watery laugh bubbled out of your chest, making your lip wobble, tears streaming down your face.

“I want to go to Copenhagen with you, and-and I want to go to France with you, and- fuck, I wanna go everywhere and do everything with you for the rest of my life.” Carmen rambled, his own eyes glassy when they looked into yours.

He said your name, letting each syllable roll off his tongue, your own heart squeezing with joy. “Will you marry me?”

Your throat felt strangled with emotions, a wet sniffle and a tiny squeak of a cry falling from your lips. “Yes.” You nodded, your own hand shaking in his. “Yes, Carm, yes. I’ll marry you, yes.”

“Yes?” Carmen was sure he was hallucinating; dreaming, maybe. Had to be. But yet, there you were, wiping your eyes, nodding and giving a watery laugh that had his heart aching in the best way.

“Yes, Carmen, are you kidding me? Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you.” You muttered, your hands finding his jaw easily, pulling him for another kiss that had his head reeling, a small sob passing through his lips onto yours.

Carmen fumbled through his own teary sniffles, hands shaking with adrenaline when he slipped the ring on, your foreheads pressed together. “Holy shit, it’s… it’s beautiful, Carmen.” You gawked, pulling the ring up to see it. The design, the cuts, it screamed Carmen in the best way- made your lip quiver all over again.

“Yeah? I-I designed it, and I just… It looked like something you’d like.” Carmen muttered, turning to wipe his eyes.

“I love it.” You beam. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Carmen whispered, hands cradling your wet cheeks, moving sweetly back to you.

“So,” Richie’s voice interrupted, halting the two of you. You turned, seeing the staff standing excitedly behind him. “Do you want the champagne now?”

Present

The ceremony was a whirlwind. The two of you, standing hand in hand in the Copenhagen City Hall. Carmen in a suit, sans tie, a blue gray sort of jacket that made his eyes pop even more, if that was possible. You, in your wedding dress, casual and short but still so pretty. You knew when you saw it that it was the one. A tiny veil and a bouquet of flowers, Carmen had surprised you with this morning, your ring dazzling.

Luca passed you the ring, a warm smile when you took it, repeating the vows to Carmen before you slipped it on his inked finger. A couple signatures and a kiss later, and the two of you were married- married. The photographer you’d hired snapped photos in the garden out front, Luca gifted you a bottle of Jouet and well wishes.

Carmen carried you through the threshold, insisted on it, scooping you up and kicking the door open while you squealed and giggled. The two of you were giddy, climbing on a high of adrenaline and oxytocin.

Carmen kissed you in the kitchen, his wife. His hand cradled your cheeks, your hand slipping over his, rings scratching lightly- metal on metal. A reminder that it was real- this was real.

For the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

For the first time tangled in the sheets with his wife. Feeling your lips against his, your fingers in his hair, diamond scratching his scalp when your fists curled. His ring left an imprint on your thighs when he gripped them.

Carmen’s head was buried between your thighs, lapping at your dripping heat like his heart might give out if he didn’t. “Oh! Carm, right there, right there…” You hummed, eyes fluttering, and back arching off the creaking bed. You didn’t care that it shook, part of you hoped you'd break it.

Carmen could barely hear, your thighs clamped around his head like earmuffs. He was in his own ecstasy driven state, high off the day's events and his love for you, mindlessly lapping at you until he felt your hands push him away.

“What?” Carmen panted, your slickness coating his mouth, pupils blown with lust. “What’s wrong?”

“Look,” You whispered, pointing to the corner of the room.

Carmen turned, hands still gripping your thighs, neck craning to see. There at the edge of the door, two blinking eyes gazed back at him. An orange tabby, perched and clicking back at the two of you curiously.

“No fuckin’ way.” Carmen muttered, cheek resting against your thigh lightly.

You giggled, running a hand through his hair. “Told you! He’s probably just scared of you.” You hummed.

Carmen snorted lightly, standing to coax the cat out gently before he shut the door. He didn’t need you distracted or worse; the cat jumping up on the bed while you two were going at it.

“Can’t believe that fuckin’ cat’s real.” Carmen grinned, shaking his head lightly.

“He’s just scared of you and Marcus. I must have good energy.” You beamed playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, pushing you back lightly on the bed. “Just lay back f’me, alright? Let me take care of you, baby.”

You purred, hips grinding into his touch. “Yes, Mr. Berzatto.” You giggled, back arching when he licked a long, flat tongue stripe through your drenched folds. Copenhagen was better than you could have imagined, even better now. Weeks later, you’d frame the photo of the two of you in the garden, grinning fondly at the memory. At your husband. At your life together with him now and forever.

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demonic0angel · 1 month

Text

Haunted Paintings Sketches!

Part one

I hope you enjoy the sketches I made of the paintings!

Also! You’re free to use my ideas (please give credit ofc) if you’d like, bc I REALLY don’t think I’ll write this one, no matter how much I want to. It’s just too much and I’ve already got 3 unfinished fics and several other series to write for. If you have any questions, feel free to ask or send me a submission! You can also DM if you’d like!

TW: mentions of suicide, murder, depression, mental illness, just really dark, creepy stuff bc these are haunted paintings and they torment people :/ no scary drawings tho! I only described them (click for clarity)

Jazz:

Description: Jazz is sitting at a table in the middle of a flower garden with a book in one hand and a teacup in the other. She looks tranquil and is dressed formally. On the table are a few plates, a plate of cookies, a bookmark, an opened envelope and a bloody butter knife, and a teapot that is slightly out of view.

Use of mediums: gouache paint, watercolor, and pencils

Focus: Jazz amidst the flowers

Inspirations:

• The Queen of Hearts from “Alice in Wonderland”

• Galna from “Mairimashita! Iruma-kun”

Location: She used to be in the home of a random crime lord in Gotham for intimidation purposes. She was kept in the crime lord’s office before being relocated into Wayne Manor, where she sits in the hall across from the library.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where her tea is filled with blood and the roses would be replaced with decapitated heads. The sky would turn dark red and the ground would be a pool of blood. Jazz would smile and look at the viewer with shark-like fangs and hollowed out eyes.

+ The tea she drinks is Darjeeling and the cookies are chocolate chip.

+ Although Jazz is the weakest painting, her effects are deadlier, more painful, and longer lasting than the others if her victims survive.

+ She causes paranoia and dizzy spells. Her effects are rather weak compared to the others, but when spending enough time with her, victims can also display symptoms of scurvy, which cannot be cured.

+ She was the first one I drew and also the easiest to plan. I just love her so much, she’s one of my comfort characters so it’s not hard for me to find ideas for her 😭

Valerie:

Description: Valerie stands in the middle of a dark, foggy forest, wearing a long dress and pressed close to a tree as if she is about to hide behind it. A branch covers her face and the trees around her curve into a circle with multiple holes within them. There is a Fenton thermos in the background on the floor and an axe in front of Valerie, sticking into the tree and oozing something.

Use of mediums: pencils and watercolor paint

Focus: Her hidden face

Inspirations:

• The Son of Man by René Magritte

• The Beast from “Over the Garden Wall”

Location: She was kept in the back of an art museum, but the director has been hoping for someone to buy her and get rid of her, since he cannot handle the strain of having her inside of the gallery. Now she stands near the door to the entrance of Wayne Manor, a silent and deadly sentry.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would have her surroundings to turned into the entrance to a mouth or an intestine, red, fleshy, and bloody. There would be bones littering the floor everywhere and Valerie herself would become bloody and stained, with her face still hidden. Tortured faces would be seen through the fog.

+ The holes on the trees sometimes leak a mysterious substance.

+ Valerie is not the weakest, but she is not that powerful. However, she does amplify the others’ effects to fatal degrees.

+ She causes paranoia and auditory hallucinations, often causing her victims to feel as though they are being watched relentlessly, which cannot go away. Eventually, her victims will shut themselves into their rooms and starve to death from the fear.

+ She and Tucker had switched ideas, but I had to trash them. I never got the opportunity to draw those ideas because I struggled so much with Tucker that when I eventually got inspiration for Valerie, I just went with it. I’m quite happy with Valerie’s portrait now.

Dani:

Description: Dani, dressed formally, sits at the head of a table with a large painting and curtains behind her. She holds a fork and a knife over a pig head. Her gaze is downward and she looks like she’s frowning softly. The dinner table is messy with three other dishes and a knocked over bottle of wine.

Use of mediums: oil paint and oil pastels

Focus: Dani holding the fork and knife

Inspirations:

• Rosie’s Tea Party by Mark Ryden

• “Spirited Away” (specifically that one scene where Chihiro’s parents eat the food)

Location: She was hidden by Vlad and kept safe with him. He keeps her in his office, where he can watch her. He only recently found her again, and he was determined to watch over her. Now she stays in the Wayne Manor's dining room, but often changes her position to be next to everyone else in the bedroom hallway.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where all of her food dishes would be replaced by very obviously human parts, especially with the pig head becoming a human head. The curtains would turn to blood dripping down the wall and Dani would be smiling, taking a direct bite of the human head that was in front of her with her fork and knife.

+ The dishes she eats in the painting are: pig head, vulture thigh, lamprey eels, and sheep brain.

+ Her at the dining table is meant to signify greed and gluttony, 2 of the most simplest sins.

+ She causes great feelings of hunger and paranoia in others. When spending too much time with her, some victims turn to self-cannibalism to sate their never ending starvation.

+ Originally, both her and Dan’s ideas were switched, so Dan would’ve been the one feasting and Dani would’ve been the one looking at her reflection. However, I switched them around because I felt like it would’ve been spookier. I even finished the drawing with Dan and everything, but then I just erased him and drew in Dani 😓

Dan:

Description: Dan is standing in front of a mirror, glancing behind his shoulder, while his reflection shows something different: him looking at everyone else and the door behind him by looking at the mirror. The party guests are all wearing masks and there are chandeliers on the ceiling. The party looks vaguely fancy, but messy with secrets.

Use of mediums: Oil paints

Focus: His reflection

Inspirations:

• Jeff Lee Johnson and his art

Location: He was kept in a locked safe within a rich person’s house in Italy. He had to been wrecking havoc on the nerves of everyone around him, but he is now safe and happy in Wayne Manor, where he is kept in the office to the entrance of the Batcave.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form would have all of the party guests dead, but their eyes would face the viewer. Dan's reflection would also be dead, but his actual self would be the same, only with an eerie smile as his eyes follow the viewer. In the doorway would be the figure of Danny. Blood would cover the entire floor and walls, but nobody would react to it.

+ Dan keeps his own masquerade mask in his pocket.

+ The woman who is directly staring at him is supposed to look like Maddie.

+ He causes viewers intense mood swings and long, often violent mania episodes or mind-numbing depression episodes. Those who keep staring at him will gain the feeling of being watched and haunted, often with visual hallucinations, resulting in losing their mind from fear and then killing others in their terror and panic.

+ I tried so hard to make Dan as handsome as possible. I think I pulled it off bc I’m a little bit in love with him ong, but I also kinda have to be bc I draw him so often

Tucker:

Description: Tucker is in the back shot of a desert, with his back towards the viewer, staring at a large skeleton that is seemingly climbing over a large sand dune. The skeleton has flowers in its eyes, and its hand reaches over the horizon. There is a single sun in the sky and an arm holding a pocket watch sticks out of the sand close to the viewer.

Use of mediums: gouache paint, pens, and pencils

Focus: The large skull

Inspirations:

• JT Music (specifically their JT album covers)

• The Giant God Warrior from “Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind”

• “Dune”

Location: He was originally kept in one of the rooms within the GIW headquarters. Now, he is kept within Wayne Manor, and stays in the theater room, where he whispers to the Wayne residents what movies he wants to watch. Sometimes, he moves to the garage.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form is one where the skull becomes covered in meat and flesh, oozing blood and tar while the sand turns red. The scene turns to darkness, and more limbs would sprout from the ground. Tucker would be nothing but a pile of flayed skin, crumpled into the sand.

+ GIW agents were unable to experiment on him, since he would purposefully cause machinery to misfire and slowly corrode his surroundings.

+ His painting is meant to be a little comic book-esque with one of his mediums being ink, but I felt like that wouldn’t be a PAINTing, so nvm

+ He causes visual hallucinations, hypovolemia, headaches, blindness, and osteoporosis :). Often, when his victims are autopsied, sand and salt can be found within all of their organs. He emits so much radiation that he can wear down the materials of the place he is stored in.

+ I DREW HIM THREE DIFFERENT TIMES OML, FIRST IT WAS HIM IN A WORKSHOP, THEN IT WAS HIM IN A MARSH, THIS IS THE FINAL PICTURE I CANNOTTTT IM DONE

Sam:

Description: Sam stands on top of a small, grassy hill with a path leading to a grave and an angel statue on top of it, close enough that she is blocking it. Around the hill are pomegranate trees and hanging corpses. There is no sun, but there are clouds as Sam stands with her back to the viewers in a long goth-styled dress.

Use of mediums: paper, glue, acrylic paint

Focus: Her standing on the hill

Inspirations:

• This Reddit picture of a liminal garden

• A mix of weirdcore and dreamcore aesthetics

Location: She was tossed into the ocean by her parents when they first saw her, but she later washed up on an island and now the animals and plants there act erratically and strangely. Finally, she was relocated to Wayne Manor, where she hangs on a wall within the greenhouse, happily watching over the plants there.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where eyes would replace all of the pomegranates, staring at the viewer. The paper used to make her would become flesh textured and bloody, and Sam would appear abnormal, broken into pieces and cracked, turning around and smiling at the viewer with shark-like teeth. The grass would become hairy skin and the sky would become red, with swirls and more eyes.

+ Sam's "painting" is actually made of mostly paper, since it is a collage. It is a bit touched up by paint and all of the materials used are vegan and ethically sourced, though they do change.

+ The flora and fauna in the island she landed on have mutated so much that they’re basically mindless. They protect Sam relentlessly.

+ She causes general insanity and relentless symptoms in her victims, such as paranoia, intense episodes of mania and depression, itchiness that can result in self harm, and violent, unexplained behavior in animals and plants. She also emits so much radiation that she can cause sporadic DNA mutations, resulting in several forms of cancer and mental instability, often resulting in victims becoming inhuman and monstrous forms of themselves.

+ Originally, Sam’s portrait was supposed to be in a garden, but I wanted it more “liminal space” themed, and I think I got it right. I think it’s really simple, but I also feel like if I was able to create it in real life, it would be more interesting because it is a collage of paper and paint.

Danny:

Description: a picture of black blotches and scribbles with muddy and red stains. Any features besides the ornate frame is hidden underneath the stains.

Use of mediums: pencils, ink, charcoal, tar, blood

Focus: His crying

Inspirations:

• SCP-035 (“The Possessive Mask”)

• The Anguished Man by an unknown artist (it’s a haunted irl painting!)

• Bendy and the Ink Machine

Location: He was cloning himself in order to jump through universes to find his family. In the current universe, he was with the League of Shadows before he was found and brought back to the Wayne Manor. He is in the hallway with the bedrooms of the Wayne residents.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form is technically his normal form because he cannot turn it off. Once he is happy again, his normal form would be one with him and his family, smiling and happy. Until then, he haunts the minds of others and ravages their sanity.

+ He’s been traveling all over the multiverse in order to find his family. Coincidentally, they’ve all been in the same world for some time.

+ He screams all day and night for his family. It’s so bad that Danny has destroyed thousands of worlds in his grief.

+ He causes the worst of all symptoms, often causing the viewers who look at him to go insane and kill themselves or others, even if it is only a few seconds. Even those who stay in the same room next door to him are consumed with suicidal thoughts and intense moments of psychosis. Those who have survived encountering him and have some semblance of mind left say that he “cries” relentlessly. His paintings leak a black substance that corrodes the place around him.

+ Literally all I did for this picture was scribble in my notes app, take a screenshot, and then scribble some more on photos LMAO

Extra notes:

+ Jazz, Dani, and Dan showing their face while Sam, Tucker, and Valerie hiding theirs is intentional. Danny is a mix of both, because he actually IS showing his face, but you can’t see it past the black and red.

+ Every painting has a flower inside of it, specifically a carnation, which are often funeral flowers, and can mean gratitude, remembrance, love, and affection.

+ Every painting also has a mention or appearance of Danny in it.

+ I also tried to put hints of bad omens or signs of death within every painting. Some examples are Dani’s painting with the chopsticks sticking out of the bowl (a sign of bad luck and death), or Dan’s painting, where a woman is being strangled in the background and another is being killed.

+ All of the paintings generally have an ability to teleport to places nearby and can actually snatch up viewers to shove them into their domain. This can be a defensive mechanism (the paintings protect the Bats) or an offensive ability (they pull victims in and kill them). They also all have weapons on them that are hidden or not so hidden.

+ I struggled a lot with ideas and how to get started on some characters because I just had so many, and I wanted it to be creepy, but not noticeably creepy, like most paintings. I’m sad to say that I wasn’t able to use some of my planned ideas from inspirations of actual haunted paintings.

+ Discarded inspirations: The Rain Woman by Svetlana Telets (my favorite!! Please look it up if you can!!), this picture I saw on Reddit of a sheep being stuck under ice with its back exposed, a workshop idea with Tucker, and Dani and “Daughter of Evil” with mirrors and everything.

+ The world where Danny and co., come from is different from the world they’re currently in. It’s like a world where some people are the same, but others are not. Example: the GIW, Maddie, Jack, and Vlad exist, but Danny and Jazz never made it past their childhood. So basically a What-If world or something.

+ Their backstories are somewhat undecided, but basically, something dangerous happened to them in their home dimension and it was so bad that Danny captured all of their souls and put them into paintings so they would live (with the help of Clockwork). However, by doing this, he scattered their souls and paintings throughout the universes and he went crazy from it, and turned himself into a painting too so he could find them. Now his cloned paintings travel and sends itself to other worlds to find his family again, often leading to their destruction from his power.

Or something? Lol

237 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 13 days

Text

‘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 2 - Wine & Tequila | ‘Act II’

word count - 10.8k

That night at the villa unfolded like a watercolor painting, the colors of the evening blurring and blending together under the influence of laughter, music, and the heady warmth of too much wine. The luxurious Greek coastline stretched out below, a glittering ribbon of blue under the starlit sky, but the true magic was in the villa itself, where the night seemed to pulse with an energy that was as intoxicating as the drinks that flowed freely. You were surrounded by British boys and your best friend, their faces flushed with joy, eyes bright with the kind of happiness that only seems to exist in these rare, perfect moments. The terrace was alive with the sound of their laughter, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of conversations that felt endless and full of possibility. The air was thick with the scent of the sea, mingling with the sweetness of jasmine that climbed the stone walls of the villa, creating a heady mix that made everything feel just a little bit more surreal, a little bit more dreamlike. You found yourself drawn to Jude, who was leaning against the edge of the terrace, the warm light casting soft shadows across his face. He looked like he belonged here, in this place where the earth met the sky, as though he had stepped straight out of one of the myths that clung to the ancient stones of the island. His presence was magnetic, pulling you toward him with a force that felt as natural as breathing. With every glass of wine, every shared smile, you felt yourself slipping further into something you couldn’t quite name. You moved closer, the warmth of the alcohol in your veins giving you the courage to flirt, to let the banter between you and Jude to flow as easily as the wine. Your conversations were light, playful, but beneath the surface, there was something more—a spark that ignited every time your eyes met, a connection that grew with each passing moment. As the night deepened, the villa around you seemed to fade, the world shrinking to just the two of you. You couldn’t stop the way your heart fluttered every time Jude laughed, a low, rich sound that seemed to wrap around you like the night itself. You found yourself watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way he leaned in just a little closer with every word, as if he was as drawn to you as you were to him. You shared another drink, and with it, the distance between you seemed to dissolve completely. The night carried on, and so did your dance—a dance of words and glances, of light touches and shared secrets whispered in the dark. By the time the first hints of dawn began to touch the horizon, you knew you were in trouble. You could feel it in the way your heart leapt when Jude leaned in close to whisper something in your ear, in the way your pulse raced when his hand lingered on the small of your back. The world around you was starting to blur at the edges, the villa, the sea, the night—all of it fading into the background as you stood together, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Jude reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent. The gesture was so simple, so intimate, that it took your breath away.

You and Jude decided to sneak away from everyone after this dance was dragging on too long. Not a word shared. You just both felt you wanted to be alone away from all the chatter and curious eyes. You descended down a massive staircase from the villa nestled up in a clif down to the shore line. The sun in its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange as you wandered down to the beach, a bottle of wine clutched in your hand.

“You look good tonight, did I tell you that?” Jude asked you softly trailing behind you, getting lost in the vision of you, having a hard time focusing on the steep stairs.

“Yeah, you did but you can always tell me more than once.” You turned around with a gentle smile that had Jude taken aback by how naturally gorgeous you were. It wasn’t like your carefully curated instagram that he had coyly stalked not only today but had since he had seen Whitney post you ages ago. You weren’t trying. This was beautiful in an organic way. He almost preferred it…almost although the bikini pictures weren’t exactly a turn off.

“You just got my mind and my heart fucking racing the past couple days. You do something to me.” Jude admitted against his will swayed by the amount of drinks he’d had as you made it towards the bottom of the stairs.

“I thought you’d like this one. What do you think?” You asked, spinning for him. The moon catching on the gold buckles of your Christopher Esber mini dress and the highlights of your skin.

“Yeah, thought right. Looks unreal on you.” Jude cooed. The villa’s laughter and music fading into the background as you finally stepped onto the sand, leaving only the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. The soft crunch of sand beneath your feet was quiet as you made your way closer to the water's edge.

“Wouldn’t look better on your floor?” You cheekily joked recalling his words the other night. It was a bit forward but you two didn’t really have to be subtle anymore.

“You’re funny, you know.” Jude told you as he watched you slightly stumble to a quiet spot near the water’s edge, where the sea kissed the shore in a gentle, rhythmic dance. Jude plopped down first and held his hand out to help you come sit with him. You sank down onto the ground, the warmth of the day still lingering in the sand beneath you. The air was salty and sweet, tinged with the fragrance of wildflowers that grew along the cliffs, mingling with the rich scent of the wine as you uncorked the bottle.

“Yeah? I just like to see you smile so if I have to pull out some jokes it’s for my own benefit.” You smiled gently at him. You weren’t actively trying to be funny but getting Jude to give you that million dollar devastatingly handsome smile was a welcomed response.

“Like it that much? Wow…” He flashed that very smile you adored so much to you.

“What can I say? I think you’re very pretty and I’m very funny so it’s a good match.” You babbled a little drunkenly. Jude’s eyes filled with adoration you didn’t catch. Without a word, he grabbed your chin gently and swiftly in what felt like slow motion pulled you towards him. His lips brushing yours in a tender, almost hesitant kiss. It was a kiss full of longing, as if he was trying to pour all the unsaid words and hidden feelings into this single, fleeting moment. It was slow, soft, a little drunk, and perfect. You smiled. Your lips curling and inadvertently peeling off his. He kissed you again, more deeply this time, with a passion that caught you by surprise, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, as if he had been holding back for far too long but then he pulled back abruptly, his breath shallow, his eyes searching yours with a mix of apology and worry.

"Shit. I'm sorry.” He murmured, his voice barely a whisper over the sound of the waves. "I didn’t mean to be so forward. I just... I got caught up." It wasn’t that he was drunk, which he was but it was more that he just didn’t even know he was going to kiss you. It was instinctual and magnetic. You blinked up at him, a soft giggle escaping your lips, a sound light and airy against the heavy backdrop of the night. Your fingers found their way to his cheek, and you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again, more confidently this time.

“It’s okay, Jude.” You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “You can kiss me whenever you want.” You smiled bigger, grabbing both his biceps, giving them a gentle reassuring squeeze. His hesitation melted away in an instant, replaced by a smile that mirrored your own, full of relief and something much deeper. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. You kissed him back with all the reassurance you could muster, pouring everything you felt into the kiss—the warmth, the comfort, the unspoken promises. You had brought down a bottle of wine with you. You poured yourselves each a glass, two that Jude had carried down for you, the deep red liquid catching the last light of the day, turning it to molten gold. Jude took his glass, your fingers brushing in a way that sent a thrill through you, a shiver of excitement that had nothing to do with the cool evening breeze. You clinked your glasses together, a soft, lazy toast to the moment, to the perfect simplicity of sitting on a beach in Greece with nothing but time stretching ahead of you. The first sip was rich and full-bodied, the taste of it lingering on your tongue like a promise. It was a wine meant to be savored, but with each sip, the edges of the world seemed to soften, and you found yourself sinking into a delicious, wine-induced haze.

“You know wine?” Jude asked you with another flash of his smile. He shuffled in his place turning his body more towards yours.

“I should say yes.” You shrugged after your admission. Jude raised his brows looking for more information. Your words were clearly laced with more. “My dad’s into it.” You vaguely explained not really providing any further clarity.

“What’s he like?” Jude attempted to learn a little more about you with a question but you didn’t think you wanted to talk about your family with him, especially not right now.

“No, don’t start on all that.” You sympathetically smiled appreciating the ask but unwilling to delve further.

“Well… fine, answer me about wine then.” Jude threw you an accepting smile that made you wish you were willing to open up to him. You felt you could. You trusted him but you didn’t trust yourself not to get yourself in too deep. You almost hated how comfortable he made you.

“Yeah, I mean I enjoy it as much as the next person… we… or my family like own a big winery in France or whatever, it’s a whole big thing.” You babbled giving him a small nugget of information about your family background but brushed it off burying it with nonchalance.

“Sorry?” Jude muttered between a hearty laugh that sent an ache through your chest. A big winery in France wasn’t all that clear but your casualty about it made him know there was more beneath the surface. Your lifestyle was very clearly one of luxury, there was nothing casual about it. He figured he’d ask another time. He kissed his teeth. “You and Whitney just really run the show, huh?” He teased you, nudging his knee against yours.

“Daddy’s money isn’t exactly running the show, is it?” You sighed with an insincere smile. You and Whitney had met at uni and bonded over similar interests but your commonality of similar childhoods glued you together for life. It was an upbringing of getting gifts in exchange for your parent’s presence. No matter how grandiose the present was, it was never exactly enough to mask what you really longed for. And while you didnt take your life's comforts for granite, it felt hollow. It did also mean that it wasn’t exactly new for you to take off work to galavant off to Europe to stay in a villa on a whim. In a bizarre world you actually had some similar experiences to Jude; unlimited credit cards, no supervision and unrealistic body standards but Jude seemed to be enjoying his circumstances more than you ever did but who were you to complain about the predicament.

“Nah, I’m obviously joking.” He squeezed his hand right above your knee. “You said you work, yeah? Remind me what you do?” Jude turned to you entirely, genuinely more interested in what you did for work than anyone ever had been.

“Art galleries.” You quietly answered him, not really sure your job would be of any interest to a footballer. It was important to you but depending on the person some found it mundane or pretentious.

“Meaning…” He laughed, waving you on to continue to tell him more. His eyes sparkled in the falling night.

“I curate art galleries.” You bashfully explained a bit more with a shy smile. It didn’t feel like he was pulling teeth by any means but Jude could tell you were holding back in the conversation.

“That’s kind of mad, you know.” Jude told you. He reached his hands out and placed them on your shoulders and turned you towards him more since you had been apprehensive to do so.

“Is it? You ever been to an exhibit you liked?” You asked Jude. His willingness to listen to you and inquire more made you feel a little giddy. You got caught in the excitement and asked a question Jude wasn’t exactly ready for.

“Erm… An exhibit might be a stretch. I have some field trips I enjoyed.” Jude laughed with a shrug. You scooted towards him and with a smirk he pulled you further into him, getting you to sit in between his legs. Your back to his chest once again encased in his scent.

“Oh Jude… We have to get you out! We’ll do wine and an exhibit one time.” You giggled, settling further into his embrace.

“You’ll have to help culture me, angel.” Jude cooed. His words warming your heart.

“You’re cultured Jude.” You smiled, turning your head back to him slightly to catch a warm glint in his eyes looking down at you.

“Yeah but in a different way. Forced to learn Spanish in my 20s isn’t much culture.” He laughed humorously belittling himself.

“Just ignoring your family background, living in other countries, and playing international football but sure. Think you're getting any good?” You asked him. He kissed your temple appreciating you acknowledging him. “Big duo lingo boy?” You giggled.

“Ha I wish. I have to go in person to class unless I’m on the road.” He reflected on his progress with a sigh. “Nah, well… maybe it depends. The more I drink the better I think I get.” He hummed resting his chin on your shoulder tucking his face into the nap of your neck.

“Go on…Háblame bebé.” You turned to look back at his gorgeous face as his hand moved to lay over your stomach whilst his fingers played with the gold metal ring details of your dress.

“¿Tú hablas español?” He asked in blur of a Madrid and Birmingham accent smashed together.

“Un poco, no muy bien, pero me va bien con los idiomas.” You stumbled through your words trying to recall the language you’d learned in school.

“Eres interesante, ¿sabes?” He spoke faster than you anticipated. Maybe he knew the language better than he led on but his accent and the wine had you struggling to keep up.

“This is hurting my brain, I’m bowing out. I haven’t spoken Spanish in a minute.” You giggled, settling back against his chest.

“You sounded good.” Jude complimented you kissing your hair with a hum.

“Yeah? Well neither of us are Spanish so who are we to say?” You took a sip of your wine before nestling the base of your wine glass back into the sand beside you ensuring it wouldn’t spill.

“Nah, you sound good. I like your voice.” Jude cooed gently. He kissed your hair again. You weren't sure he even knew he was doing it so you let it go on without saying a word but each time he did it your body relaxed more.

“Oof really? I’m always one of those people that when I hear it back in a video it’s just the worst.” You winced a little hearing anyone, but specifically him, saying they liked your voice.

“No, trust me… as someone who has heard it first hand a lot lately. Like a lot, you don’t shut up.” Jude teased squeezing you a little. You hummed feigning offense by his jab. ‘Nah, It’s perfect.” He further explained. You questioned him with an inquisitive glare. “You moaning my name in my ear is perfection.” Jude groaned a little remembering it, moving to come kiss your neck. You couldn’t see but his eyes went wide after the words fell out of his mouth. Did he really just say that out loud? Maybe he was more drunk than he thought or maybe he liked you more than he knew. He couldn’t see but you gave him a smug eye roll. You talked about everything and nothing, your conversation flowing as smoothly as the wine. The sky deepened to indigo, stars beginning to flicker into existence above you, and with every glass, you felt the space between you shrink. The wine made you bold, your laughter louder, your smile softer as you leaned into him, the warmth of Jude’s body seeping into yours. The banter was easy, playful, but beneath it was something more—a current of unspoken tension, of desire that swirled between you with every glance and every touch. The wine was loosening your tongue, your inhibitions slipping away with each sip, and you found yourself telling him things you might not have otherwise—secrets, dreams, the kind of thoughts that only come out under the influence of too much good wine and the spell of a Greek night. Jude listened with that same lazy smile, his eyes dark and knowing as he leaned closer, his hands finding their way around you. It was a delicious warmth that mingled with the wine, making you dizzy in the best possible way. As the bottle emptied, the world around you seemed to blur, the stars above spinning in a slow, languid dance. The wine was doing its work, pulling you closer, making everything feel just a little bit more intense, a little bit more real. The waves continued their gentle rhythm, a lullaby that matched the pounding of your heart as you turned to face him fully, your lips curving into a smile that was both shy and bold. There was a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before Jude leaned in around you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that tasted of wine and salt and the sea. It was slow, languid, a kiss that felt like it had all the time in the world. You melted into him, the wine making everything feel softer, more intense, as if the whole world had narrowed to this one perfect moment on the beach, with the stars above and the sea at your feet. In a fell swoop, your back was pressed against the sand, Jude hovering over you, his arms placed beside your head. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.” Jude groaned looking down at you as he began to pull your dress up your body. You arched your back letting him take it off entirely. You helped him rip it off before guiding his hand back to your now exposed body, causing you to let out a moan at the touch. He had you, hook, line, and sinker with your eyes pooling with lewd desires. You placed your hand on the nape of his neck, tugging at his hair, as he lowered his head, placing kisses along your collarbones and chest. You buried your face on his biceps to muffle yourself as he began to play with your nipples, pinching the hardened buds while he sucked the curve of your shoulders.

“What if someone sees us?” You asked Jude apprehensively when you felt an ocean breeze hit your skin and your now wet core, reminding you of your state. Although, your lust-induced mind hoped he would be able to come up with something to convince you.

“You’ll just have to be a little quiet f’me then, yeah?” He cooed licking on the spot behind your ear as he tugged on your nipple, making you shiver not sure if you could keep to what you were about to agree to. You nodded anyway, impatient for his touch you’d been craving.

“Jude” You gasped into his mouth. He immediately pulled away from you and kissed his teeth in an effort to reprimand you for making noise. You mouthed a ‘sorry.’

“I’m all yours tonight, baby if you can stay quiet, yeah?” Jude cooed before crashing back into a kiss. Kissing Jude felt different tonight. Maybe it was the build up of tension throughout the holiday or maybe it was the thrill of knowing you could get caught fucking him down on the beach. Jude wielded his dominance over you fervently, he pinned your arms above your head, his lips never leaving yours longer than a second to breathe. His perfect pouty lips traveled down to your tits. You whimpered as you felt his lips come around your nipples. He sucked on the left one, brushing his warm tongue left and right before tugging on it with his teeth. The level of arousement in you was getting higher and higher and the familiar knot forming at the pit of your stomach was starting to form. The prominence of his cock burrowed between your spread legs, rubbing against your clit and making you thrust your hips further into him for friction. He let his hand come to knead your exposed tits, the wisp of his breath tingled down your body as he kissed your skin, tying a knot in your core. Swifty he rid you of the only bit of clothing you had on left. A minuscule thong, he threw to the side with no care. “So fucking wet f’me already.”’ He mused as he kissed your pelvic bone, letting his finger drag through your folds gathering up your slick. The request to stay quiet gone out the window in minutes. Swiftly he moved his finger up and into your mouth. Your tongue obediently swirling around him. ”‘Who made you this wet, huh?” Jude smugly asked you.

“You, oh my god you.” You whimpered as he kissed the inside of your thigh. When his lips finally began kissing your clit your hips bucked upwards involuntarily. Your fingers gripped his hair. He sucked harshly on your sensitive clit. You had no control as you writhed underneath him. You had been dreaming of this. His mouth on you sent a shot of ecstasy through you. You felt dizzy from the wine but more so from him. “Fuck Jude!’ You whined as he pushed not one but two fingers into your pussy. His tongue fluttering over your swollen bundle of nerves. Your walls welcomed the pressure of his intrusion. Your eyes shutting in rapture at his pace. You couldn’t stop your body from involuntarily grinding against him. You couldn’t stop yourself. He curled his fingers further inside, finding your g spot fast, refusing to let up. You rode his fingers, your moans only getting louder as he worked in tandem with his tongue toying with your clit. You let out a soft cry as you rocked your hips up onto his hand.

“So good f’me.” He looked up at you, a wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winding in your stomach. Almost immediately you felt your orgasm come crashing over you. Your body shaking as his tongue continued to assault your clit rhythmically. “Cum f’me. That’s it angel. Good girl.” You looked down at Jude as you came, his eyes filled with hungry lust, his face buried deep in your pussy, the moon beginning to shine down on you both. The iridescent ocean in the background played a symphony harmonious to your moans and his filthy slurps dragging out your high. Jude slowly pulled his fingers from inside but still softly stroking though your folds when he finally emerged from your legs to breathe. It was a deliciously lewd sight. Your slick dribbled down his chin. You giggled in pure ecstasy as your thumb swiped to catch the wetness.

“Can you… Can you please fuck me.” You begged him desperate for more of him. In the darkening night Jude flashed a devious but excitedly childish smile watching you tug down his trousers and allow his enormous cock to spring free. He groaned between the swift motions slowly aligning his cock with your core and sliding into you. You both gasped at the contact. He moved slowly inch by inch letting you adjust to his size but he just wanted to get as deep as possible. You felt better than before. His thick cock hit your g spot almost immediately once he was in. He felt so deep and the stretch of him being back inside you had your mind turn to complete mush. You lost any control you had when he was fully inside. The force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of both your moans.

“You’re such a good girl, so fucking wet for me.” He said hearing the sounds of your slick as he dragged his cock slowly out of you and watched himself push all the way back thrusting harder. Your legs wrapped around him tightly as you let one of your heels drag down his muscular back. You were whining in pleasure. Your lips parted gasping at the sensation of him. You both were moaning inexplicable phrases of praise and adoration. You were completely obsessed with each other and how good the sex was only amplified it. You could feel another orgasm fast approaching.

“Please, please, please keep going.” You whimpered, feeling him continue to drill into you, the sand shifting beneath you with every rough thrust. You were getting lost in the pleasure that he was giving you while he was just as infatuated by your body and the sounds you were making had him fighting to not cum.

“Fuck, baby, feel so good. You’re gonna make me cum.” Jude grunted watching you quiver under him. The intensity of his fucking truly was overwhelming and became even more so when his hand dropped to rub harsh circles on your clit between your bodies. He let his spit drop down onto your throbbing pussy. You squeezed your eyes tight. Your mind was complete mush with every stroke seeming to hit deeper. “So close, angel. Cum with me. Will you cum with me?” Jude heaved, picking up your leg, draping it over his shoulder, kissing your ankle. You could only manage a nod. You let your head drop back letting out a sinful moan as he managed to hit even deeper inside of you. His whole length repeatedly hitting your g spot. Suddenly he felt an even more arduous determination to fuck into you like you’d never felt before. Jude bit his lip and with a devilish glint in his eye he watched you fall apart on his cock. Your pussy tightening impossibly around him.

“Jude… Jude… I’m gonna cum. Fuck!” You cried feeling like you were going to black out. Your body trembled as you squirted messily onto him and his cock. Pussy gushing around his thick girth in uncontrollable squirts. The release caused your body to shudder, your head pushing backwards with force, you were moaning his name senselessly.

“Fuck, fuck!” He cried out. “Baby I gotta cum. Fuck! Let me cum inside, please.” He was at his limit desperate to release. You could only nod again, you were in the pull and you didn’t want him to pull out. This felt too good. His harsh movements began to a halt as he buried himself deeper inside you. Pumping you full of his cum while pressing his lips to yours. You both laid into each other's sweaty bodies, foreheads resting on the other. His cock was soaked in your slick as he carefully and gently removed it as you both came down. Beneath the dark azure sky of a secluded Greek beach, the world seemed to hold its breath. The sun hung low, casting a golden glow over the sands that stretched like a whisper between the cliffs and the sea. The waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythm a soft invitation, a lullaby that melted away the rest of the world. “Holy shit, angel.” Jude groaned, exhausted. You giggled as he rolled off you and pulled you into his body again, his laughter quick to follow yours. Jude’s hands traced the curve of your back, his touch like a brushstroke against your skin, each movement deliberate, reverent. You responded with a soft sigh, your fingers gripping his hair holding him to you. The salt-kissed breeze caressed your bare skin as your bodies entwined, a dance of want and need that was as old as the earth itself. Your breath hitched as Jude’s lips found the hollow of your neck, his touch both tender and urgent. Each kiss was like a drop of honey, sweet and languid. The sand beneath you was cool, grounding you even as you lost yourselves in each other. When you finally came to, breathless and spent the first stars were beginning to twinkle. You let the cool night air wash over you, the beach your publicly private haven. The sand, the sea, the sky were all witnesses to a moment that was at once primal and profound, a memory etched into the very fabric of the earth.

“I think we’ve been here for hours… I mean, is that the same star we've been staring at, or have we just been spinning around?" You giggled a little delirious from the sex and the wine.

"I think it’s the wine that’s spinning, not us. But who knows? Maybe the stars decided to join us." Jude smirked at you, moving you to settle more on his chest as he rubbed his hands over your warm skin.

"Maybe they did. It feels like we’re the only ones in the world right now." Your voice was soft paired with the waves hitting the shore as you shuffled nuzzling your face against his strong chest.

"Yeah? I don’t think I’d want it any other way. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so… what’s the word… content? Maybe that’s just the wine talking though." Jude laughed at himself. He was struggling to find his words and he wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the sex, or frankly, he was a little nervous that it may have been just you.

"Or maybe it’s me. I’m pretty great company, you know." You giggled and the sound rifled through Jude’s heart. It was like you were reading his inner most terrifying thoughts.

"I won’t argue with that. But honestly, you’re… different Y/N. Like, in a good way. You make everything feel lighter, like I could drift away if you weren’t holding me down." Jude laughed cautiously. His eyes had a warm front but there was a fear behind them that you were unable to see.

“Are you trying to say I keep you grounded, Judey? Because I can be a lot of things, but ‘grounded’ isn’t usually one of them." You playfully nudged him with a childish nickname that he normally hated and yet he didn’t even bat an eye when you said it.

“No, I mean it. There’s something about you… the way you laugh, the way you look at me like you’re figuring me out. It’s… I don’t know, refreshing Y/N." Jude told you sincerely the laughter disappearing from the night air. Jude was cautious around people especially since he had catapulted into fame. He trusted his gut and he trusted that it felt as if you really liked him for him, not for entity Jude Bellingham.

"You’re not so bad yourself. You’ve got that whole cocky confident athlete thing going on… But then you smile, and it’s like—bam! Everything changes." You blushed slightly wiggling against him to sit up to take a much needed sip of wine feeling incredibly parched by the serious undertone of this conversation.

"And how do you feel about that? About me changing things?" Jude leaned closer. His voice dropped low. A shiver ran up your spine along with Judes hand tracing up the protruding bones.

"It scares me a little… I won’t lie but I think I like it. I think. I like you… ” You confessed unexpectedly and uninhibitedly. You met his gaze, your voice almost a whisper. Jude shifting from this media persona to someone you were actually interested in made you very worried. “You know, like in a fun friend way.” You tried to rectify your admission. You didn’t want to fall for him and you certainly didn’t want to admit to it.

"Yeah, sure. That’s good, angel. I like you too you know in a ‘fun friend way.’” He mocked you with a pinch to your side. “A lot more than I expected.” Jude admitted himself, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your naked body. You shouldn’t have felt this comfortable completely bare on a beach but you did with him.

"What did you expect?” You laughed softly and a little nervously. You raised your brow at him wondering if you were supposed to be offended or not.

"Honestly? I didn’t expect you to be so… easy to talk to. So easy to want more of. I didn’t expect to be so interested.” Jude shrugged, taking his eyes off you and looking out into the blurred, dark, and distant horizon with a serious glare. He wasn’t sure what he thought he was saying but it felt vulnerable.

"I didn’t expect any of this either. But here we are, a little tipsy, a little reckless… and maybe that’s okay.” You turned and kissed his shoulder behind you. “So did you know I was coming on this holiday or was I just a pleasant surprise?” You giggled and reached up to cup his cheek to get him to look at you. You wanted him to know it was okay to just talk right now. You weren’t clinging to every word like it was bible.

"Yeah, it feels more than okay. Maybe it’s exactly what I need." Jude admitted looking down at you. He kissed the inside of your wrist holding his face. “I heard you’d be here. You were a big part of a pretty enticing holiday package I’ll be honest.” He shook his head very confused at how you were getting him to tell you all this.

“Oh…” You whispered inquisitively. You laid back down tangled together on the beach. The night was still warm, and you could feel the breeze brushing over your skin as you rested against Jude’s chest, both of you catching your breath. Jude shifted under you, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your arm. There was a comfortable silence, but you could sense something was on his mind. You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "What’s going on in that head of yours?" You asked him, seeing as he just stopped talking moments ago.

“I, uh… I should probably tell you something. It’s kinda dumb, but I feel like you should know.” He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. Your curiosity piqued, you shifted onto your side to face him fully, your chin resting on his chest.

“Okay, sounds interesting.” You wanted to laugh but you also wanted him to share with you. He let out a low, almost nervous chuckle, avoiding your eyes for a second before finally meeting them.

“I’ve, uh... I’ve seen your Instagram. A lot. Like, I’ve gone through it more times than I care to admit.” He sheepishly told you. You blinked, surprised by the confession, but a grin immediately spread across your face.

"Wait, what?" You almost giggled but refrained, needing more. Jude groaned softly, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, it’s embarrassing. I could probably tell you your Instagram handle backwards at this point, that’s how many times I’ve typed it in my search bar.” He ran his hand over his face. You laughed softly, teasing as you traced your fingers along his chest.

“So, what, you’ve seen all the bikini pictures? The selfies? All the nights out?” You giggled recalling some of your frequently posted content tropes. He groaned again, rolling his eyes with a sheepish grin.

“Yes, all of it. Every single post. All the nights out… in very tiny tiny skirts by the way.” He admitted with a sigh. You sat up slightly, still grinning.

“And you didn’t like one single post? Not one! Because I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed. Wow…” You cheekily smiled at him with some self satisfaction knowing he had been snooping around but you noticed your teasing wasn’t being received all that well so you dropped it and moved to place your hand on his leg, swiping your thumb over his knee a few times “Wait… how long has this been going on?” You mused with real curiosity. You felt like you would’ve seen it an account with millions upon millions of followers was in your likes or story views. Jude propped himself up on one elbow, giving you a lopsided smile.

“A while. I told you , you were part of why I agreed to come on the trip to Greece in the first place. I knew you’d be here, and, well… I wanted to meet you, not just admire from afar.” He gently explained. Your teasing expression fell and softened as his words settled in.

“Really?” You almost pouted but didn’t want to patronize him.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, a little rough with emotion. “I didn’t know when I’d have the chance otherwise. I’d heard Whitney and Trent talk about you, and then I saw you and then I didn’t want to miss the chance. I wanted to know if you were the same girl I’d been looking at through my phone.” He confessed. You felt a sudden warmth spread through your chest, your heart skipping a beat.

“And now?” You smiled. Jude reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed at you.

“Yeah, think I prefer knowing you in real life.” He smiled back at you leaning forwards to rest his forehead against yours. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the teasing gone, replaced by something deeper.

"Well," you murmured against his lips, "guess that makes two of us." You cooed as your lips met once more in a soft, lingering kiss, the kind that made the world around you fade into the background, leaving only the warmth of your connection and the sweet promise of something more.

“You’re not talking to Y/N right?” Jude sheepishly asked Trent’s brother, Marcel after you had snuck back up to everyone at the villa. Your disappearance was definitely noticed but not harped upon. Jude had taken a seat next to Marcel on the lawn.

“Nah mate, told you. It was just like a one off no big deal.” Marcel brushed him off with a wave of his hand. Marcel shot him a look of confusion. He assumed that was a given. Sure you were flirty by nature but it was clear you were into Jude. Jude had known and heard about you and Marcel and it didn’t bother him, not a bit. He just wanted to know where things stood and he was too juvenile to ask you. He didn’t want you to know he cared that much. He wasn’t supposed to care despite him not needing to.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sound.” Jude didn’t look at him, he kept his eyes locked on you as you moved, swaying in a hug with Whitney. You didn’t tell her the finer details of what just ensued down on the beach but you said you just wanted to ‘have some fun alone’ and you assumed she would understand. Jude began to smile seeing one pull on your face.

“Uhh ohhh. I see now. So you’re into herrrr, huh?” Marcel’s eyebrows raised interested watching Jude almost pout looking at you. He thought you were a sweet girl, fun, and a good time but he wasn’t trying to take anything more from it. Jude had thought he felt just the same until now.

“I don’t know if that’s the word. Just sussing her out.” Jude sighed, shifting to look back at him. ”Mate my heads a mess. It wasn’t exactly my plan for the holiday. She’s cool, you know?” He looked at Marcel hoping he wouldn’t take the piss and would maybe understand Jude’s confusion.

“Yeah cool, course, bro. Not the first thing that comes to mind when I look at her but...” Marcel started laughing Jude joined in. He jokingly shoved at him amidst the laughter. Your looks often were the first thing people, particularly men, seemed to notice.

“It’s maybe not the first thing I thought either. She’s so leng bro but also as much like I hate to say this because I know it sounds fucked up but she’s a lot smarter than I thought she might be.” Jude explained with a tinge of guilt in his voice.

“That is fucked up. I think meeting her as Whit’s friend I wasn’t expecting anything but. Whitney’s not exactly stupid.” Marcel laughed humorously criticizing Jude’s shallow expectations.

“No... no, she’s not. Stupid for being with Trentski for sure but otherwise no.” Jude continued laughing. It was apparent once all the boys in Trents life had met Whitney that she was more quick witted than her appearance might have had them assuming. They all gave Trent shit upon this discovery for him punching above his weight class. Although you were proving to be just as much of a heavyweight as she was.

“Bro’s fucking punching. For life as well, he’s locked in now” Marcel laughed both at his brother’s ability to pull a girl like Whitney but also the fact that he had fallen into a wildly serious and committed relationship.

“Definitely mad that it all came from some holiday.” Jude laughed along with him. “Maybe Y/N’s not a monogamous girl though like Whit. I don’t know her that well.” Jude threw a thought out he really had no interest in entertaining but in hopes it would help not ruin Marcel’s perception of him. He also didn’t want to end up looking like a simp the way Trent did after a holiday.

“Doubtful bro but I’m not gonna say no either.” Marcel laughed with a tinge of real disbelief in Jude’s sentiment he didn't feel comfortable with. Jude’s lack of sincerity in saying you may be a more than one man girl didn’t sit right with him. “I mean it’s not all that far fetched for you to end up the same though.” Marcel tried to switch the direction of the conversation to another possibility far from the one of sharing you.

“Eh… I mean she’s sick. I like her but she lives in New York and I… I don’t.” The reality of your fling with Jude loomed. He felt his heart sink a little.

“Didn’t stop them.” Marcel patted his knee and stood up. At the very same time Marcel was departing, you were walking by where they were sitting to head inside when Jude grabbed at you.

“You better be going to wait in my bed for me.” Jude cooed, his voice low and teasing as he traced his fingers lightly along your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced down at him, meeting his gaze with a playful smile, swaying slightly on your feet. Lust was beginning to bubble in your chest. His other hand slid up your leg from your calf up your thigh.

“I will… in a bit.” You smiled with a wink. “I’ll meet you there, baby.” You flashed him a grin before turning away. You tailed Whitney inside to get more to drink which became a poor decision fast. Standing in the warm, flickering light of the villa's kitchen, you felt like you were floating on a cloud of tequila and laughter. Whitney and you were barely keeping your balance, your movements graceful in the way that only a couple of very drunk girls could manage. The bottle of Don Julio 42, so beautifully designed with its intricate patterns and rich amber hue, sat like a trophy on the counter between you. You admired it as though it were the most precious artifact in the world, your eyes glassy and your giggles louder than the music playing in the background. You reached for the bottle, struggling to pour more tequila into the pitcher while Whitney clutched a salt-rimmed glass, her fingers slipping and sliding over it like she was trying to grasp a slippery fish. You were both so thin, your alcohol tolerance barely holding up against the potent allure of the tequila. Every sip made your heads spin more delightfully, and your cheeks flushed with the heat of drunken exhilaration.

“Look at this,” Whitney said, her voice slurred and filled with admiration. “This bottle is like... a piece of art.” She cooed. You nodded, feeling the weight of the tequila in your veins, making you giddy and uninhibited. “It’s gorgeous. Like, if I could marry a bottle, it would be this one.” Whitney laughed, a joyous, carefree sound that mingled with the clinking of glasses. She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief and inebriation. “So, what about Judey?” The question hit you like a splash of cold water, though it was anything but unwelcome. You felt a flush of warmth spreading through you, not just from the alcohol but from the thought of him. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile that was already tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Oh, Jude,” You said, your voice a soft, dreamy sigh. “He’s... He’s Jude.” You sighed. “He’s so sweet. And there’s something... just sweet about him.” You said saying really nothing at all. You swayed slightly, your hand reaching for the bottle again, your fingers barely able to grasp it. Whitney, equally disoriented and amused, grinned at you with a knowing look.

“Really? You think so?” she asked, her tone playful and teasing. You pouted, taking a sip and letting the tequila warm you from the inside out.

“Yes, really. He’s like… sweet. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s like... he’s so sweet, and... I don’t know. It’s just...” You babbled. Whitney laughed again, her laughter merging with yours, creating a symphony of drunken joy. You stumbled around the kitchen, your conversation growing more disjointed and incoherent as the tequila took hold. The world outside was a distant blur, and in that moment, it was just the two of you, tangled in a haze of tequila and unguarded confessions. As the night wore on and the tequila continued to flow, your words became less coherent, but the feeling of being carefree and in the moment remained. And amidst the drunken banter and endless giggles, the truth about Jude slipped out in the most vague and blissfully honest way possible. You two were absolutely housed. Whitney weighed exactly nothing, you, maybe a pound or two more than nothing. It wasn’t a hard task.

“Come on, drunk girl. Let’s go.” Trent sang coming into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Whitney. He lifted her effortlessly in his arms.The night spun faster as you struggled to maintain your own balance alone. Whitney wrapped herself around him ready for him to carry her to bed.

“Don’t you think Y/N should fuck Jude again?” Whitney slurred nuzzling into him. She had completely forgotten your sly insinuation after you had come up from the beach earlier.

“Yeah, baby. I think they’ll decide that though. Might’ve already happened, alright?” Trent gently spoke to her, shooting you a wink that made you laugh. ‘Such a gossip’ You mouthed to him. Trent took care of her and sometimes you envied having that person in your life. Whitney wanted that and you were fairly sure you didn’t but every so often it would ping in your chest maybe you just must’ve.

“Are you gonna fuck me, T baby?” Whitney slurred again, asking Trent as she kissed his neck like you weren’t there anymore.

“Nah, you and me are going to go have a cuddle.” Trent laughed, running his hand over her hair whilst trying to create some distance between them. “You’re good?” He cooed gently to you with a smile, watching you inflict a worse hangover on yourself finishing the rest of Whitney’s drink.

“All good. Thanks, T.” You smiled before heading down the hall very obviously towards Jude’s room and away from yours. Trent only able to laugh. The way Trent cared for Whitney with such tenderness and attention was maybe something you longed for, though you were unsure if you would ever allow yourself to truly desire it. It was a bittersweet realization. You watched them with a mix of admiration and longing, feeling the weight of your own unresolved desires. The Grecian air was still warm through the house as you stumbled into Jude's room, your head swimming with the dangerous mix of wine and tequila. The villa was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon casting long shadows across the marble floors. You were giddy, feeling the alcohol loosen your limbs and lower your inhibitions. Jude had told you to go wait in his bed, a suggestion that seemed anything but innocent. You didn't think much of it as you peeled off your clothes, leaving a trail from the door to his bed. You stared in a mirror and sighed, catching a glimpse of yourself. You hope you looked good enough for him. Your momentary self reflection was short lived as you started laughing. Who were you kidding? He was lucky to have you in his bed. You took more than good care of yourself so you drunkenly skipped over to the bed with confidence and slipped under the covers, your bare skin immediately cooled by the soft sheets. Your head spun, but you felt comforted by the familiar scent of Jude on the pillow beside you. It smelled like a mix of salt, from the ocean air, and something distinctly him—a combination of woodsy cologne and sun-warmed skin. You curled up into a ball, letting the exhaustion take over. A bit later, Jude entered the room, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he saw you already nestled in his bed, asleep, your hair fanned out on his pillow. You looked so peaceful, your face relaxed in a way he rarely saw. He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. It was a sight he wouldn't have expected to find tonight, but there you were-completely naked and unapologetically in his space. He quietly got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and washing the last remnants of the night off his face. When he slid into bed next to you, he kissed you all over carefully. He wrapped his arms around you, feeling your soft, warm body press against his. You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open as you felt the weight of his arms around you. In your sleepy haze you were grabbing for more of him.

“Alright, c’mere.” Jude cooed softly with a breathy laugh and a kiss to your temple pulling you into him all the more. You were a clingy drunk and Jude had amplified it. Usually you used to push for drunk sex and you did with him that first night but you also just wanted him to hold you now

"Jude?" You murmured, your voice laced with sleep. “You took so long.” You pouted, smushing your face into his warm chiseled chest.

"Yeah, it's me.” He whispered back, his hand gently rubbing your back. You nuzzled closer to him, your lips brushing against his bare chest as you did. “I’m sorry, I’m here now, angel. Were you waiting for me?” He smuggly grinned loving the fact that you had been and you were so cuddly with him now because of it. He had just stayed up a bit later playing a few games of cards with some of the boys. It wasn’t actually that much later, you were just drunk.

“Yeah.” You said sadly with a dramatic frown. Jude was enjoying this. It was adorable, you showing him an incredibly more vulnerable side. “I wanted a kiss.” You confessed holding your pout. Your drunkenness allowing your true want to come spilling out. Your words slurring slightly from the alcohol and the sleep.

“Well you can come get one, baby. C’mere. I wanted a kiss too.” He cooed with a breathy laugh. His heart swelled at your admission. You seemed to always be so guarded, so careful to keep your emotions hidden away. But here, in this quiet, intimate moment, you were letting yourself be vulnerable with him. He tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Too tired now.” You barely got out a whisper as sleep began to take over.

“Oh, okay.” He laughed more out right, wrapping his arms tightly around you. “I’m sorry. You can have a kiss whenever you want though. So you can get one whenever.” He smiled, pressing his lips to your hair once more. His voice was a low rumble in the dark room. You laid there in silence for a while, just holding each other, the rhythm of your breathing slowly syncing up. But then, from down the hall, you heard the unmistakable sounds of someone else in the villa having sex. Your eyes snapped open, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You didn’t recognize the noise coming from down the hall though. You knew it wasn’t Whitney and Trent, unfortunately you knew that sound better than you’d like to. You glanced up at Jude, your mind suddenly connecting the dots.

“Wait you wanted to have sex.” You frowned feeling incredibly bad you let sleep and too much tequila probably derail what Jude thought he was walking into. You were trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. You felt horribly being in his bed now, like you should leave immediately.

“It’s okay, angel.” Jude chuckled, his chest vibrating under your cheek. You didn’t feel fully convinced. Your drunken mind twisted his words, making you feel insecure. You frowned, feeling a twinge of rejection.

“You don’t want to have sex with me?” You asked embarrassed and saddened. Jude watched your facial expression break, feeling hurt by his words. His heart ached reading your inner thoughts that were plastered across your face. He could hear your voice almost shake, the way you were almost pleading for him to want you. Jude immediately shook his head, his thumb brushing across your cheek.

“I do, trust me I really do but tomorrow.” He laughed very sure he would’ve liked that but Jude still wasn’t crazy knowing that you hadn’t remembered the first time. “I just want a cuddle from you. Do you want to have a cuddle with me?” He gently lifted your chin so you would look at him, his expression soft and sincere. You nodded. It did ping in your head that this was thoughtful just in the way Trent was to Whitney earlier but it was a fleeting thought. You were too drunk to hold onto it. “Thank you for getting naked for me though, that was really nice of you.” Jude laughed rubbing his hands over your body.

“I wanted you to like me.” You mumbled against his warm skin earnestly. You really felt like that was the only way he would like you.

“I like you with or without clothes.” Jude cooed with that same ache returning from before. His voice firm but kind. He didn’t like that, drunk or not, how you thought that was the only way he would like you.

“Really?” You meekly asked, picking your head up. You rested your chin on his chest. A sleepy smile pulling on your lips.

“Yeah. Course hard not to.” He told you honestly, kissing your forehead.

“I like you.” You unexpectedly admitted to him through your haze. Jude smiled more than happy hearing it, even though a part of him already knew it. You had tried to walk out of it on the beach but he knew it wasn’t in a ‘fun friend way.’

“I know. C’mere Angel.” He cooed, pulling you into a tight embrace, you were securely wrapped in his arms as if Jude could shield you from the world. Maybe Whitney was right. He was nicer than you thought. He swayed your body back and forth with his. He could feel you relax against him, your breathing evening out as you started to drift back to sleep. He pressed another kiss to your head, his heart swelling with affection. He was determined to show you that you didn't need to put up a front with him, that you were enough just as you were. And as he closed his eyes, holding you close, he knew he'd do whatever it took to prove that to you. Jude liked you a lot, more than he even thought. You’d been glued together the whole holiday. He wasn’t sure how to manage this and neither were you. Jude thought he’d see the trip out. You were attempting to keep your distance but failing miserably when he came up behind you in the kitchen pinning you against the counter top.

“You want to sit next to me for the movie?” Jude whispered to you, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. An unforeseen rainstorm shook up previous evening plans, the night shifting to an impromptu movie night.

“Depends. How close do I get to be to you?” You cooed trying to fight back a giggle feeling his hands run up and down your sides dragging your top up with his big hands.

“We can share a blanket. Can be however close you want.” Jude smiled, his lips curling against your skin. You pushed your back into his chest, Jude subtly peppering small kisses behind your ear for no one but you to notice.

“Perfect…” You cooed, keeping your eyes fixed ahead on the microwave. A bag of popcorn spinning around as you listened to the kernels pop inside. “And when the lights go out and my hands wander, is that going to be okay?” You asked Jude with a pur. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

“I’d encourage it, mine are.” Jude cooed, letting his hands wrap around you entirely. They dropped down your stomach to come and play with the drawstring on your shorts. A shiver ran up your spine with the microwave beginning to beep dragging you out from the moment of sheer bliss feeling Judes hands on you. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering screen as a movie played out in front of you all. The large, comfortable couch was crowded with friends, everyone lounging with drinks in hand, half-watching the film and half-whispering in quiet conversations. You and Jude were sitting together on one end of the couch, your bodies intertwined under the blanket Jude promised. The night had been filled with laughter and teasing, but now, in the softness of the late hour, there was a fragile tension between you. You felt the warmth of Jude almost beneath you. The movie droned on, but your mind was elsewhere—on the way his arm rested around your shoulders, his fingers slowly stroking your skin. Jude could feel the heat radiating from your skin. His heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever you shifted, brushing against him even more. You glanced at him, catching the subtle way his eyes flicked toward you before quickly returning to the screen. You had been so courageous in the kitchen but now surrounded by everyone else under the warm blue light of the screen, despite the cover of the blanket, you felt more exposed than ever. You were nervous on how to navigate this. It wasn’t the physical touch that made you nervous but the comfort you felt with him. Somehow this public cuddle felt far more intimate than sex. It was a dance, this game of touches and stolen glances, a wordless conversation filled with question marks and ellipses. The anticipation was electric, crackling in the small space between you. As the movie rolled on, Jude shifted slightly, his arm moving in what seemed like a casual gesture at first but he was throwing caution to the wind. He wanted you closer to him. He gripped your arm and pulled you into him with a hum. It sent a rush of warmth through you. You were so thankful he made the move. Your heart thudded in your chest as you leaned against his chest feeling the strength and warmth of him even through the fabric of his shirt. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his hand resting against you, the quiet weight of it grounding you in this tender, tentative moment. You leaned into him more, enough to send a clear message. Jude responded in kind, his body relaxing into your, his fingers tracing small, gentle circles on your skin. The touch was soft, almost shy, as if he was testing your reaction, afraid to push too far, but eager to deepen the connection. Your head found its way to rest against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that made you feel safe, as though you were in your own little world, separate from the rest of the group. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath, the way it seemed to catch slightly when you moved, the way it synced with your own.

“What’s happening?” One of the boys asked, breaking the spell as they tried to follow the plot of the movie. You lifted your head slightly, still close to Jude but now aware of the world around you again. You hadn’t been paying attention to the screen at all, lost in the quiet, courageous touches you were exchanging. Jude’s hand stilled on you, dragging your body tighter into him, inadvertently and unintentionally protecting you from reality.

“Honestly, no idea,” Jude said softly, his voice low, meant only for you to hear. His breath was warm against your temple, and the sound of his voice so close made your heart skip. You smiled, your lips brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

“Me neither.” You whispered back, your hand moving to rest lightly on his chest, just over his heart. “But I think I like this better.” Jude’s arm tightened slightly around you, a subtle but unmistakable affirmation.

“Yeah.” He murmured, his lips grazing your hair, the touch so light you almost thought you imagined it. “Me too.” He cooed. You stayed like that, wrapped in the tender warmth of each other, the movie long forgotten as you cuddled closer, the touches growing less tentative, more confident. Jude’s hand slipped down your arm, his fingers intertwined with yours, holding you close in a way that felt both protective and intimate. You began to doze off after the movie ended, comforted by him. The boys had queued up the sequel, all of them entranced by a film series getting lost in the next movie. It was well into the morning, the rain had long gone and you were practically on top of Jude at this point. “Going to sleep, angel?” Jude whispered to you.

“Hmmm? What is this the 4th?” You asked Jude after you heard the theme music for the series began again.

“Nah, only the third.” He whispered kissing your temple with a cheeky smile watching you cuddling up to him more. “Want me to bring you to my room?” Jude offered.

“No, I just want to stay right here. Is that okay?” You asked him quietly, not able to even pick your head up, you were so tired. You were exhausted but you were so cozy with him you didn’t want to be apart. Not even a bed could be better.

“Yeah, course, you’re good, angel.” He smiled, pulling you tighter to him, resting his chin on your head after a subtle kiss. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep completely in Jude’s arms as the third movie rolled on.

“Judey, Judey, Judeyy.” Whitney teased from across the room. She sat up in Trent’s arms with a smug smile. As she sang the nickname that bothered him so much poking fun at Jude’s affection towards you it pinged in his head that he really didn’t mind when you had said it just the same earlier. He flipped her off and put his arm back around you where he wanted it.

•

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Next part - Chapter 3 - Mr. Madrid xx

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