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ikkyfics · 29 days ago

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Pleaseee Vampire James x pregnant reader?? A surprise dhampir babyyy

Just Mine

Vampire!James x pregnant!reader

Summary: “Did you know I never imagined anything could be more beautiful than you?” he murmured, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the silver light. “But here you are. You… carrying what we created together. A piece of me, inside you.” The reverence in his voice was almost devastating, each word laden with an intensity that seemed to heat even the air around them.

Warnings: blood (nothing serious) - a possessive James

A/N: anon, hope you like it <333 - have I mentioned how much I love vampires?

Masterlist

The night seemed more alive to James, as if every shadow danced in celebration of the miracle you carried. The silver light of the moon entered through the window, bathing the scene in an ethereal, almost supernatural glow. He was there, lying beside you, one of his large, cold hands resting on your rounded belly. His long fingers moved gently, tracing slow circles over the fabric of your thin nightgown, as if engraving in his memory every curve that your pregnancy had shaped.

“You look beautiful like this, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, carrying that tone that always made your skin tingle. His blue eyes shone intensely, fixed on you with a reverence that made your heart race. “So full of me... our life growing inside you.” He smiled, his white teeth standing out as his sharp fangs showed, a sensual and dangerous reminder of what he was.

“James,” you whispered, your voice slightly breaking with emotion. Your hand covered his over your belly, your fingers warming the cold skin that seemed to bring an inexplicable comfort. “You always say that. You always make me feel like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.”

“Because you are.” He leaned in, his black, rebellious hair falling forward as his lips found your belly, leaving a cold kiss there. His eyes lifted to meet yours again, the vibrant blue contrasting with the darkness of the room. “You and him... you’re everything. Every day that passes, I only become more certain of that.”

You laughed softly, the sound low and cozy, as your fingers slid to touch his face, tracing the perfect contour of his jaw. “And who takes care of you, James? I don’t want you to forget that... you’re mine too, you know?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if absorbing your words. When he opened them again, there was something even more intense there, something almost devastating in his devotion. “I’m yours. In every sense, forever. But taking care of you is what keeps me alive. Knowing you’re safe... knowing I can give you everything. That’s enough for me.”

He moved closer, pressing his forehead to yours. “You understand, don’t you? What you mean to me? My light in the darkness... my whole world. If I could, I would keep you here forever, where no one can touch you, where I know you’re protected.”

“I know, James,” you replied, your eyes filling with tears that he quickly wiped away with the tips of his fingers, gently. “And I trust you. With everything I am.”

There was something in the scent you now carried that drove him mad—something warm, sweet, full of promises and love. He often pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply, as if each breath were vital to him. And there was always that satisfied, possessive smile. “You have no idea how irresistible you are... how it feels knowing you belong to me, in every sense.”

“James,” you called him again, your voice soft but filled with conviction. “I’ll never belong to anyone but you. Not even before all this... before us. You know that, don’t you?”

He chuckled softly, his expression overflowing with pride and a joy that seemed impossible for someone like him, a creature made of darkness. “I know. And I swear I’ll spend every moment of our eternity reminding you of that.”

With that, he pulled you closer, enveloping you in an embrace that was both protective and intimate, while his hands gently caressed your belly once more. “Our son. My blood. Our eternity,” he whispered, and there was a promise in his voice that seemed to echo forever into the vastness of the night.

“Did you know I never imagined anything could be more beautiful than you?” he murmured, his blue eyes shining like sapphires in the silver light. “But here you are. You… carrying what we created together. A piece of me, inside you.” The reverence in his voice was almost devastating, each word laden with an intensity that seemed to heat even the air around them.

You smiled at him, your hand covering his. “It’s the most precious piece. I never thought I could feel so complete, James.” Your voice was soft but firm, full of sincerity.

He tilted his head, the smile taking on a more predatory edge, though still filled with tenderness. “And that’s exactly why you need to take care of yourself. You need to be strong. For you. For him.” The way he looked at you—as if you were all that existed in the world—made your heart leap.

Before you could respond, he gently pulled you closer, positioning you in his lap with an ease that betrayed his supernatural strength. His cold fingers caressed your face as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixed on yours. "It's time for you to feed." He didn't phrase it as a question, but rather as a statement, as if he already knew your body craved what only he could provide.

Your heart raced, not out of fear, but because of the familiar and inexplicable excitement these moments always brought. You didn't hesitate — you never did. Instead, you watched with palpable hunger as he raised his own wrist, the pale skin highlighting the veins. With a precise movement, he made a small cut, dark blood beginning to surface. The scent reached you almost instantly, rich, seductive, impossible to ignore.

You carefully held his wrist, but the urgency in your touch did not go unnoticed. He watched every movement, his blue eyes locked on you, glowing with something bordering on fascination. When your lips closed around the cut, he let out a low sigh, satisfied.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice low and laden with a tone that made your skin tingle. His fingers moved to the base of your neck, his touch almost possessive as he kept you close. "That's it... that's right. You need this. You need me."

You couldn't deny it. You didn’t want to. The taste was indescribable, a mixture of need and pleasure, and the way he watched you only made the moment more intense. He encouraged you, whispering soft and seductive words, his hand now sliding to your back as he pulled you even closer.

"You're perfect like this, you know? So hungry for me... as it should be," he whispered against your hair, his voice deep and filled with an almost palpable satisfaction. The other cold, firm hand moved up to caress your belly again, his long fingers tracing slow, reverent circles on the stretched skin. "Everything about you is mine. It always has been." The low timbre of his words vibrated in the air, as possessive as it was passionate.

He tilted his head slightly, his blue eyes burning into you like two cold flames. Your heart, already racing from the intensity of the moment, beat even faster, and he could hear every pulse with supernatural clarity, like a song composed just for him. "I can hear it," he murmured, a smile forming on his lips, revealing the tip of his fangs. "Your heart. So fast. It's beating for me, isn't it?"

You couldn't answer, but the way your fingers tightened slightly around his wrist was enough. He laughed, a low sound, almost a purr, that seemed to reverberate through your body. "Ah, my sweet girl. So dependent on me... and I love it." The words came out laced with pride, but there was something deeper there — a fierce desire to protect you, to keep you always within his reach.

As you drank, he adjusted his position, pulling you even closer to his body. The way he held you was a perfect contrast between strength and care. His fingers, cold but comforting, slid down your back in slow caresses, while his other hand remained on your belly, as if needing to feel the life growing there to believe it was real. "My child," he murmured almost to himself, a glimmer of adoration in his eyes. "My blood. Our blood. You're giving me the greatest gift anyone could."

Minutes passed, but he showed no rush to stop. Every sound you made — the soft sigh, the way you adjusted against him — seemed to fascinate him even more. He tilted his head, his lips brushing your temple lightly as he whispered, "That's it, love. Take as much as you need. You know I would never deny you anything."

Finally, when he realized you had fed enough, he gently pulled his wrist away, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "That's enough for now, my dear. You're strong, but you need balance," he said, his voice sounding like a mix of authority and affection.

Before you could protest, he raised his wrist and used his thumb to wipe the remnants of blood from the corner of your mouth. "So beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming your face with an intensity that was almost predatory. "Now... show me." He pressed his stained finger against your lips, a satisfied smile forming as you obeyed without hesitation, licking the traces as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Good girl," he said, the tone laden with pleasure as the smile on his lips widened, revealing his sharp fangs. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, as if he wanted to taste a bit of himself in you. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining with something almost dangerous. "You know I love this, don't you? This power... this submission. It's exactly where you belong."

You could barely find words, but he wasn't expecting any. He pulled you back into his arms, holding you against him as if he wanted the entire world to disappear. "Mine," he murmured, caressing your belly one last time. "My eternity. My perfection." And in that moment, you knew that, for him, nothing existed but you.

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grapejuicestyless · 2 months ago

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What If I Don’t Know?

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summery: In an alternate universe where the pogues gave up the hunt after their win with El Dorado, Y/n breaks free of the island dream and runs off the college. Only to find that maybe, being away isn’t what she wanted after all.

My boots danced across the thick yellow lines on the deep black pavement. The traffic lights were flickering yellow, reflecting off of the void and rippling across the building puddles by the clogged sewer drains. An intersection at midnight, no dead stop and no definite go. Just the trust that the other cars wouldn’t blow past the warning signs. The trust that metal was made to bend, to rupture to save a life.

I didn’t have a car, I couldn’t afford one, and I never needed one. Everything I ever wanted was always just a few steps away. Laughter used to echo through the halls and cold rings hit the doors repeatedly. You grow used to people that way. Used to the sound of their footsteps, of their breath. You know who’s on the other side of the door always when you memorize the pattern of their movement.

JJ promised me once that we’d make one. We would run our way down to the junkyard and pick out old parts of cars and Frankenstein them together into a piece of shit that would run like a dream.

That was something I missed. The smell of gasoline. Maybe that’s why I stumbled down through the college town, balancing between the thin stripe of black between yellow and twirling in the center where road met road. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. The image of JJ bent under the hood of a truck. The same Ford that sat broken in the front yard for years, the sound of metal twisting and the breathy grunts with each violent twist of the wrench. It would run like new one day, he swore. I never doubted him, and I still don’t. One day, we’ll run down to that junkyard, a graveyard for cars, and we’ll find that missing piece.

Rain dripped from the bridge of my nose, falling on my soaked shoes and flattening out my fuzzy socks. Everything up North was colder. Maybe it was because of how bitter people were. The semi-warm summers and the sweltering months of autumn, only for the two week beach bliss to be swiftly replaced with a harsh winter that didn’t let up until the next summer. Cold nipped at my nose. I felt bitter the longer I was here, which was weird because when I was sixteen, I could have sworn this place was home.

Then again, I had never really been anywhere long enough to know what home really was. Everywhere I went became rushed by the sweet adventure that was chasing riches. Maybe it was the idea of settling down that intrigued me. To be sat in one place for a while and to slow down, to increase my chances of living through my twenties without some pirate knocking on my front door, a gun to my head. But this wasn’t home, this wasn’t settling. This was restlessness mixed with a deep urge to find something like home. An emptiness emotionally that I just couldn’t understand.

Like a dog chasing its own tail, I felt stupid, and I myst have looked drunk dancing among the silence of my college town. I should have been happy, this should have been home. I got out, I got what Kiara always dreamed of, I sought out a higher education, a dream that Pope had thrown away. My record was clean and my future had meaning. I should have been ecstatic to receive this opportunity, after all the grief and death and scandals of my childhood, a stage in my life that was stripped away by all the realities that unraveled with each new treasure found. But, I wasn’t. Even then, sick, dirty, and cold, I wasn’t happier than then now.

I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. In the dormitories, in the bathrooms, in the halls. It’s me, or, a version of that girl. She has my hair, and we share the same eyes, same curve of our lips too. But she’s hollowed out, gutted, and so indescribably not me. Different, not greater, but worse. I think of packing my bags quite often. Going quietly and without a fuss. To swallow my pride and withdraw my debt I would surely acquire if I stay any longer here at some institution I knew I couldn’t afford the moment I sent in my letter.

My roommate would be disappointed, but she’d move on. She doesn’t know me, she understands the concept of me, but she doesn’t know me. She’s nice enough, keeps her room clean, which inspires me to do the same. She brushes her hair regularly, almost obsessively, and is really pretty. We get along fine. We are friends, to a degree, but we are sure to find other roommates and never speak again. Still, I wonder if she would be mad if I left without telling her.

JJ was mad when I told him. He didn’t like the idea of abandonment. Though, I promised I would return in just a few months, and then a week after, and a few months later. It would feel like I am forever home, only with short intermissions where he gets to enjoy all the things that the island could offer with the others to hang off of his arm. He didn’t even indulge in that idea. He thought even an hour apart was too much.

I promised him it wasn’t abandonment, and swore to call him every night. I do. Sometimes I call him in the morning, and I almost always call him in the afternoon. I like to hear his voice. It sounds like home, it makes me feel warm. I forget about the redness of my nose and the tingling numbness in my fingers. He sounds like the waves crashing against the shore and the sound of wet spaghetti hitting the walls during dinners at midnight. He is laughter and the summer sun, the swells that ripple in mid July and the best seashells on the beach.

My knees bend beneath me, kneeling against the wet cement beneath me. I feel the wetness soaking through my jeans. It’s cold. Like it could be snow if it were a degree cooler. I kneel in the middle of the intersection, and I look up at the sky. It’s dark. I check my watch, it’s nearly morning again. The yellow light flickers against my skin, illuminating my face and leaving me in pitch black again. Everyone is sleeping in my college town. All is quiet.

My neck stretches out, upwards and I open my mouth. My tongue touches my chin, and I can taste the dirt in the droplets that swallow down my throat. My eyes are closed, because I have nothing to fear but loneliness itself, and whether my eyes are opened or closed, the feeling will still be there, and the fact will be too. I am alone, in this journey. I have nothing friends to lean on and no campfire to light. Nobody here knows about the existence of Kildare, of the marsh, and the restaurants that line the cut. They wouldn’t care, they don’t care about an environment they are not accustomed to. They only have so much space to consume what they need to know. To drink up their studies, they have no space for empty thoughts of a life they never lived.

I have my old phone in my pocket. The keypad is burned into the screen because it’s all I use it for now. My life revolves around nothing but the stress of failure and the relief of my best friend’s voice at the end of the day to ease my stress. The truth is, I understand the void in my passion now better than I did when it first appeared, the black hole that seemed to swallow up all my excitement for the new beginnings. I understand the bitter feelings I have for my new house, because I refuse to call this place home. Home is not a place you reside, though, familiarity breeds contempt, home is a connection to the people who reside in respect of you, who stand by you. So though the people I surround myself with here are perfectly friendly, they are not my friends, and they will never come close to the feeling of home I feel with them.

“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep. He has that rasp men get early in the morning, a rich deepness I rarely hear anymore, but something I once bathed in with his arms wrapped around me through the night.

Theres a soft rhythmic ticking that comes with the flickers of light, and the soft patters of rain drenching the pavement create solemn acoustics around me.

“Hey, JJ.” It comes out in one breath. A sigh of relief that he even heard the buzzing of his phone in his usual dead-to-the-world like sleep cycle. My fingers slip on my phone case and I have to catch it, the rustling on my end of the line echoing back through the speaks to me. I can hear the playback of my breathing through a short delay that spans over a vast distance.

“Is everything alright? It’s…three in the morning. I don’t know a lot about time zones but, I think we’re both on the east coast.”

“No, it’s the same time zone, Jay.” My cheeks already hurt with how big my smile was. He just had that effect on me. His goofy, unknowing attitude always managed to make me laugh, especially because deep down I knew he was a lot smarter than he led on to be. When he let that mask slip to reveal his true self, it was always a wonder the ideas that spewed from his lips. He had one of the greatest minds I’d ever known, only to be undermined by the tragedy of his last name.

“Is it a crime to miss my best friend?” My eyes found a home on my wet knees, and my free hand began to play around in the water. Dragging my nail through the small puddle forming around my body.

“At this time? Yes.” He chuckled softly. “Somethings up, what are you speculating? Whats the word? Observations? Because I can’t help you with that.” He made himself clear, smiling through his sentences.

“What? No! Why would I call you of all people if I was Ob-ovulating?” I corrected myself with a laugh.

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I happen to be irresistible.” JJ defended himself with a teasing tone. Our conversation was light like it always was, even though my homesickness ran deep, and the sadness I felt was heavy, he made it feel like even the rain pouring down around the city I lived in was letting up.

“Lord knows John B’s walls are too thin for me to not have some kind of clue.” I snickered, pushing back the wet strands of hair that had fallen down upon my face.

Rain clung to me in every crevice, drenching me completely until I felt nothing but cold wash over me. It was a shower I didn’t need, one that did not cleanse me but instead poisoned me with the reminder that this was reality, I was miles away from the voice that was soothing my hearts ache momentarily. I would mull over it later.

“Nah, you got off on that shit.”

“Don’t be a pig, I’ll hang up.” I threatened half-heartedly. We both knew I never would. I could never cut the calls first, so the responsibility fell to JJ, who suffered the same inability to let go. Our calls usually stretched for hours, and the voicemails left in my inbox from the few times I would pass out with my cheek pressed firmly against some dusty book in the library took up all remaining storage in my phone. Right along side the folders of photos of us that collected by the thousands.

“So why’d you call?” He asked finally. I had no real answer. I used up all my excuses. Could he check for a sweater I left behind, the very same one I had on, or if he could just catch me up on what the others were up to. As if I didn’t call to hear all their stories daily, hourly if possible. What was I to tell him? What excuse could serve as something plausible without bearing a burden on his wide shoulders.

“You’re my best friend. I love you, I don’t need a reason.”

“You always have a reason.” He argued softly.

“Well, tonight I don’t.” I hummed. He hummed too, and silence filled the line.

The homely yellow flicked was accompanied by the blinding lights that came in pairs, growing brighter and wider with each passing second. Like a deer, I stood quickly, tall in my path but frozen in fear. I couldn’t meet the eyes of the man behind the wheel, recklessly racing across the intersection with no caution. Yellow meant slow, yet in the night, it only called for feet hitting the floor.

Puddles splashed violently, wheels screeching against the wet cement, leaving trails of where wet met soaked. I could see the distance between the wheels, I could lay my chest against the ground and measure it with my wingspan. The car swerved, laying down on the horn until the sound sputtered away into the distance, and nothing but the soft ticking of the lights and the sound of rain smacking the pavement filled the silence of the line again.

“Are you outside?” JJ asked finally. The sound of sheets crinkling and shuffling of legs against the mattress told me the loud alarm had stirred him from his relaxed state. I nodded at first, forgetting he couldn’t see me, and then I cleared my throat.

“I’m standing in an intersection.” I confessed quietly.

“Why?”

To clear my mind, to escape everything that was bothering me. To find peace with the silence, to try and find comfort in a home that wasn’t mine. There were a lot of minor reasons. The smell of gasoline was high on the list. I rationalized a lot of reasons in my head. Maybe I was looking for that bitter smell to remind me of home. Still, my gut wouldn’t settle.

I had left home to find something good for myself, to do myself the favor I always promised myself I would if I ever had the chance. But now, now that my feet had carried me to a place that was usually bustling with life, life that felt dull compared to even the most calm days on the island, I felt like I could never go back. A chance, a life, a future that I craved, I was throwing away because my feet refused to lift from the ground until I was sure I would only take my next steps home.

“I miss you.”

My answer was clear. It was true. I missed the waves, I missed the concrete roads freshly paved down in figure eight and how they met the old dirt roads of the cut. I missed John B’s chicken coop, though the chickens were long gone. I missed the dying tree carved with his name, and the rusted latch on the chateau’s porch door that left a yellow stain in the crinkles of my palm. But more than anything, I missed being no more than a breath away from JJ Maybank.

“Come pick me up?” I asked with uncertainty. Not because I even doubted for a moment that JJ wouldn’t come running to me if I even for a moment doubted where I stood, but because the morning was still young and tropical paradise was far away from the whistling winds of the North. Ferries only ran during certain hours, and money was hard to come by, even when we scrape together our pennies. Thats what happens when you drink up your success, you’re left with the repercussions. So, even if he did catch the boat, where would he get a ride from? How much more would it cost to bring the Twinkie alongside hime and ride it all the way to the hills where the colleges welcome signs were illuminated by colored lights, shining in school colors and pride.

He let out a stifled breath. He was choking on emotion I couldn’t read over the phone.

“I’ll be there, yeah.” He promised.

“Okay…I’ll go pack.” I said, suddenly and awkwardly. Yes, I dreamed of this day, kissing everything goodbye and running back to my roots, but now it was real. I could hear JJ slipping on his boots already. Why waste this chance?

“Pack?” He questioned.

“I’m leaving for good, Jay. I know I tell you that this is great and all, but I hate it here. This isn’t…this isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s not what I want.”

“So, you’re coming home?” He asks even though my answer has always been obvious.

“Yes.”

The line falls quiet again. I can hear the shuffling of his feet quickening against the rotting wood floors of the old Maybank property. A broken home flipped into something good. We share a bed there, I imagine he’s already grieving the loss of his starfish sleep position now that he’ll be bound to the same mattress as me again.

“I’ll be there soon.” The line falls dead.

Water splashes around me. If I wasn’t already soaked, I would be now. I can see why John B loved having a car so much now. The cold was fine at first when it was numbing, but now that I had feeling back in my chest, it was too much for me. My feet hit the pavement in harsh slapping movements, I pump my arms for some kind of friction against the wind. My lungs burn, they taste metallic. I want to wheeze and stop running, but I don’t think I could if I tried. I should feel embarrassed how quickly I up and left the place I was once stuck in, how I turned on my heels to run far away. But I’m not. I feel nothing, actually. Nothing but cold, determination, excitement. I have the energy of a child. I am an olympic runner, I have the right motivation. Get the fuck out of here, run myself right into JJ’s arms. I pray I don’t wake my roommate up when I reach my room.

The room is empty when I get there. I open the door so slowly, not even the rusted hinges make a sound. The carpet groans under my weight, even on my highest tip-toes. But the beds are empty and neatly made like they were left this morning. Rains pelts the windows. Theres a fan running. It’s my fan. I can’t sleep in the heat, not even in the winter. My bedding consists of borrowed blankets that I buried myself in, subconsciously trying to suffocate away the homesick feelings.

I barely had any clothes to pack, anything to throw into my duffle bag and my old backpack that was once Kiara’s. I never really got around to unpacking anyway, because there was so little to fill the bags I brought. Looking back on every decision I made before even stepping foot on campus, I should have known I would never stay. This was merely a vacation from hell. I don’t get the privilege to relax, I am worked and forced to prove myself over and over again among my peers who will never know me. I can’t wait to go somewhere where I am known again.

Somewhere along the way, I begin to collect up the posters on my walls. I rip them down hazardously, crumpling them and leaving them in the empty trashcan. It’s empty because there’s nothing I’ve touched in this room. Not the books, or the pens. I have a singular pencil up on my desk that’s much shorter than it once was, only half of its once lengthy size, and a nearly full set of flashcards. I don’t need the memory of this place to follow me. I consider it a favor to my roommate. To gift her with all the supplies she will ever need. She is nice enough, and a lot smarter than me. She’s sitting here on a full ride, though, the collar of her shirt says she could afford it without a penny. I convince myself she deserves it even though I do not know her.

I check my phone repeatedly, and I sit on the bench under the old overhang by my dorms. I stay out of the rain, I stay near the warmth and huddle up. I feel anxious waiting for him. It’s only been a few hours. I swept over the room for the few things I did want to keep. Like one of JJ’s bracelets, though it never even left my wrist. Or the soap I used in the shower. It was brand new, I had just bought a new one. I wait for his call. I wait for the familiar honking of the rusted horn. I wait, and wait as the sun rises. Time ticks by. I am impatient, I wasn’t bred this way, but good things have made me this way. I cannot wait.

“Popes probably gonna kill me.” I mumbled softly.

The car was warm, but my hands still lingered with the outsides touch. I sat on that bench for hours waiting for him. I saw people rise from their beds and lean out the window, taking in the smell of the dewey morning. A few gave me puzzled glances. A drenched girl, dripping down on the bench, wetting everything she touched.

But then, he came. I could see the rusted van before he even put it in park. Just between the brick lined buildings and the paths decorated in dying shrubbery. There was a small gap between the campus lawn and the visitors parking lot. A small slice of the outside world creeping into the sheltered space that was college.

I ran. I ran faster than I ever had in my life. Faster than when I used to race for desert back when Big John used to ruffle my hair and let me sleep over if I wanted, faster than when Ward held a gun to my head and made me pray for some kind of miracle. I ran until my feet couldn’t keep up, and I fell into JJ with a gasp.

He held me back, lifting my feet from the ground they stood on. I swore I heard him mumble something sappy under his breath, but he quickly shrugged it away when he saw the look in my eyes. I never felt love until I felt the desperation in the way he wrapped his arms around me. The way he squeezed the air from my lungs and only let me breathe when he was sure that the feeling between his elbows and his chest was really real, until he knew that this was for good.

He had slung my bags into the back seat and laughed as he told me to get in the Twinkie. When he started driving, he played the old CD we burned together in middle school filled with soft rock and Bob Marley. Occasionally, a song I had written into the playlist without him knowing would play. He always acted angry that I’d done that, but his fingers tapped the wheel and he couldn’t help but hum along. He would never admit to liking trashy pop songs, but the pink on his cheeks gave him away.

When the CD was spun to an end, we debated playing it again. We fell into silence, into the comfort of company. We both took the time to process the fact that this was real now, this was the decision I had decided to make. The thoughts that ran through my mind, what if I took off? What if I packed my bags, what if we moved back home? Let’s adventure down the coast, let’s live our youthful dreams that are unrealistic. Let’s make a home. They were real now, in this car, in him. We sat comfortably knowing that there was no limit on our company now, no restrictions on how much time there was left to borrow.

My socks tapped against the dashboard, my toes tracing the outline of the stickers scattered along the interior. Wet residue was left over, soggy folds gathered at my ankles. My body folded into itself slightly. I let the warn air from the dusty vents dance across my skin. Goosebumps faded like the sinking feeling in my gut. The smell of gasoline filled my nose once more, the smell of his deodorant reminded me that he was close.

“No doubt about it. Don’t know how you’re gonna talk your way out of this one.” JJ sighed contently.

“Well, you’re pretty good at sweet talking.” I buttered him up. Compliments were his weakness, I knew it all too well.

“I love you, but no.” JJ laughed.

“What! Oh, come on, please!”

My hands wrapped around his right bicep. My chin sat perched on his shoulder, batting my eyelashes at him and tickling the peach fuzz on his jaw that he had missed while shaving. I wanted to rub my palm over it, tease him for it with a smile. He had a toothy grin that I could see reflecting back in the rearview mirror.

“I get shit done, but I’m not a miracle worker, ‘kay?” He lifted his arm out of my grasp reluctantly, waving his finger to make his point.

“I thought Papa J was a miracle worker?” I teased with a raised brow. My arms crossed over my chest with a huff. My back fell gently against door. I turned to face him, a pout on my face and lines between my furrowed brows.

JJ let out a breathy laugh, his resolve quickly breaking at my endless begging. He had soft spots and I knew just where to aim.

“No, no! Don’t use my ego against me!” He laughed. I held my stomach this time, trying to keep my ribs together while I struggled to contain the fits of giggles bubbling up my throat and fighting past my lips. If love was a sanctuary, I was certain I had both feet in it. If it was a fire, I was burning up, and if it was the waves, they had crashed down relentlessly against my shivering body, bringing relief with each blow.

I bit the inside of my cheek and chewed at the skin. Laughter faded into even breathing, and my limbs curled up against the wrinkling fabric of the passenger seat. It had just barely started to rain again, a soft pattern of droplets hitting the windshield every so often. The closer we got to the dock, the more it lightened up. Though, the storm came in waves in the shape of the clouds that covered the blue skies. With each opening with sun peaking through, the tapping on glass stopped. When the grey swallowed us whole, it resumed. I didn’t mind it again. Not for the reasons that I wallowed in just hours ago, not to seek comfort in my homesick nature that cane purely from the soul of a homebody. But this time, because the swelling my my heart made me want to pull over to the side of the highway and spin around until my half-dried socks were coated in mud and my skin didn’t recall what the dryness felt like.

“Can I tell you something?” I murmured, my eyes locked in to the passing view that was the trees speeding past the windows.

“Yeah.” JJ hummed.

“I only came back for you.”

JJ hesitated on what he thought he wanted to say. He was biting his tongue. I shook my head.

“That sounds bad.” I laughed. “I only decided to leave because of you. I guess…just sitting in the middle of the road, I already felt really far away from everyone. I missed everyone more than I’ve ever missed anything in my life, but I was convinced that maybe I could suffer through it. But…just being with my thoughts, and hearing your voice after thinking for a while…kinda just convinced me.”

JJ took it all in. I saw the whites of his knuckles deepen the harder he pressed his fingertips to the wheel, the vast expanse of road ahead daunting now. This was beyond quality time together, and he knew it now that the newness began to settle and he began to realize it was the same old me. This was my future, and I had tossed it all away.

“I just…I guess I always thought you’d be the one to make it out. To really go for it. Kildare’s big enough for me, but I always kinda thought you’d go somewhere…more.” JJ spoke softly, eyes glued to the road.

“Maybe I already did get out. I got out and I tried to change everything about me to be that girl who wanted to get out, but she’s dead. Getting out sounded so freeing when we were younger, but now…now that we’ve seen the world and…and done so much in such little time, I’ve already lived a whole life, I’ve seen the world and I still feel like I don’t know who I am yet. But I know what I love, and I know that I hate every second that I’m away from it.”

JJ hummed again, raising his brows.

“You don’t need to explore every single corner of the earth to be something or-or someone. And maybe I didn’t realize it when I sent my letter in but I know now and I know that, I feel only half as good when I’m anywhere but where I should be. I’m sorry if that’s disappointing or if Pope is going to lecture me for days and you have to listen to it, but I know I have such a better chance of being who I want to be where I can be her than in some Northern University where people wear coats year round.” I rambled. My hands moved quickly. I cut through the air with each slice of my palms, and my eyes ran wild across the landscapes and the curve of his nose down to the bend of his jawline.

“I’m just trying to make sure this is what you want.” He finally cracked a smile. His head turned for a moment to meet my eyes, and I could see the flickers of light brightening up his affectionate gaze.

“Jay, I sat in the pouring rain in the middle of the road and begged you to come get me.” I deadpanned, but a small smile still graced my face.

Truthfully, I couldn’t wait to stick my toes back in the warm sand back home. To look down at my boots and dance along the gravel roads instead of balancing between two yellow lines that shot straight down the neat pavement.

Home was a foreign concept for a long time. The idea that it was something that could be bought. Through a mortgage, monthly rent, out of pocket. I never had those kinds of expenses. What was pocket change for some felt like gold to me, so maybe when people sat around talking about how they craved a big house to reside in, I never fully understood. Then again, I was never anywhere long enough to know.

I wouldn’t change a thing, how I ran around with my friends for years looking for gold that seemed to become buried under more and more stories, leading us to an even greater prize. I wouldn’t change the way I threw it all away to be with them. Subconsciously, I was smarter than I thought. Pope talked about packing up his bags, skipping town and moving to Idaho. Somewhere where he meant nothing to nobody and could start over. But I never indulged in it, or the fantasies of having a little more money. Being stable out be nice, but I always knew I had what I needed. I had a home and it was built on the structure of my four best friends that soon grew in size to six, and they had toothy smiles and stupid jokes.

“Do you think they’ll be mad?” I asked suddenly. Sure, this was right and it was what was true, but this was a dream that nobody else ever got to experience.

JJ pulled his lip between his teeth.

“Nah.” He sighed. “Pope will have your head, but Pope gets wound up easily. Could use him as a fishing pole.” JJ joked. It made me laugh and I felt any stress melting away. It was funny that he could do that anytime he pleased. I didn’t know if he ever knew he could do it, but he had a smart mouth, and a funny bone that always seemed to tickle me just right.

“But not you?” I asked once again.

“Not me what?”

“You wouldn’t? Be disappointed in me, that is.” I clarified softly, the roads becoming softer the more me drove along them. It was only moments until we’d soon roll onto the metal bridge connecting us to the boat that would send us home.

JJ breathed out through his nose.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” I responded plainly.

“And it makes you happy?”

“Yes.” JJ sighed, his eyes flickering from the wheel, to the road, and back to me. But only for a moment.

“Then no.” He answered just as plainly as I did, but there was a twinge of happiness itching at the corners of his lips. Selfishly, he wanted me to come home, and selfishly, I did too.

“Well, are you mad at me?” I continued to press him.

He laughed. “I could never be mad at you.”

“Not even if this is the wrong choice?” I picked at the skin by my fingers. My skin hurt a lot less now that it was shedding the smell of foreign land and letting the faint smell of the Twinkie stick.

“Who am I to tell you if it’s wrong?”

“Well, Pope would tell me it’s wrong.” I argued weakly.

“And am I Pope?”

I shook my head silently, and my eyes glued to my fingers. Blood stained my cuticles, where skin met nail. It stung, but it hurt a lot less than what I felt before.

“Y/n/n, you could send me into bankruptcy and act like we’re rich and I don’t think I’d even have it in me to blame you.” JJ smiled. I focused on the slopes and curls of his hair.

We sat in silence for a moment. It wasn’t like he was Shakespeare, but it wasn’t often JJ said something truly sappy. Usually, his philosophies revolved around excuses for his own stupid actions, which, now that he had explained his view on me, I had come to realize I never fully saw the extent of his behavior because I had never had the courage to blame him. I never would.

“So, you’ll talk me out of trouble when we get back?” I smiled sweetly, leaning my head on his shoulder and batting my eyelashes desperately.

JJ let out a laugh from deep in his stomach, his cheeks turning pink from his gasps of oxygen.

“I love you, but no.”

“I thought JJ was the reckless one, but holy shit, Y/n/n!” Pope ran a hand over his hat, pulling it off by the brim in one quick motion. The hard fabric hit the wooden counter of the bait and charter shop, the slap echoing through the homely space.

“Can you blame me? It’s so far away, and we just got back! I haven’t been in one place for more than a month in years, and I’m so god damn tired of feeling homesick all the time!” I tried to argue against the growing rally against me. I pleaded my case, but they all looked at me like I was brain dead.

“You had a chance, Y/n. A really good one too and you blew it, for what? To sell bait? To slum it in the cut? You can do that when you’re done earning your other options!” He scolded me like I was a kid. But I’m not a kid, and the worry lines slowly creeping up onto my once vibrant face are only evidence of the ever growing number attached to my bones.

“Yes, but a chance I didn’t ever really want! I mean, how could I even know if I ever wanted it, I don’t know who I am!”

“Thats what growing up is for! Not growing down. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re not a kid anymore, Y/n. And you never will be again!”

Silence fell over the small room. Even the waves rolling against the dirt didn’t dare to whisper through the large windows and gaps for doors.

“I sacrificed that for you.” I spoke softly, bitterly. For so long, I’s bitten my tongue for everyone. Hidden my resentment for chasing after a gold, I never really wanted because in my eyes, I already had it. But it was what they wanted, so I let myself age out of the period of my life I had dreamed of since I was a kid.

“I gave up my childhood so that you could figure out yours! You got to know who you are, I never got that because no one ever stopped to ask me what I wanted! Nobody! You were all too caught up in your greedy treasure hunt to ever look around and think about if everyone wanted to do this!”

“No one made you come along.” Kiara stepped forward, the same disapproving look in her eyes. She was only defending her wordless friend, but my feet felt heavy and my joints were warm. I felt myself creating sentences I should have never admitted out loud.

“Well I did! I did, and it’s too late to change that, and I did it because that’s what friends do. But what do we have to show for it? Nothing! We didn’t get the cross, we didn’t get the gold, hell, we already spent all of the nuggets John B managed to grab!” It fell silent again, and suddenly, I was standing in the center of a circle I didn’t want to be a part of.

“So what? Because we failed, it condemns you to leave college?” Kiara always had a smarter mouth than me. She was quick witted and observant. Yet, she failed to understand that my choice to come home wasn’t something merely because of the way the treasures slipped through our fingers. It was a homesickness she never had to feel because she had plenty of homes where she was consistently welcomed.

“Why is it so wrong for me to be unhappy with something that everyone else enjoys? Just because my dreams do not inspire yours does not make them any less important. A-and honestly I’m sick of standing here and listening to all of you yell at me for getting out of there instead of letting myself waste away! I’d be dead if I didn’t leave, I’d be dead because you all mean a lot too much to me for me to be away from you guys for so long. In four years I might be rich, but I would be unhappy. I would be bored. But you guys—us; we will be interesting, and funny, and bold, and unpredictable forever.”

I swallowed hard, and my eyes met the blues of the boy who had the courage to go against the majorities better judgement and bring me home. He had the same wild look on his face.

I hadn’t expected JJ to speak for me, to try and mellow out the anger I knew I would receive and backtrack against the backlash I would surely face. But out of everyone, I thought I could count on him to have my back.

And he just, didn’t.

I decided then I wouldn’t stay in the eye of the hurricane when I knew what it was capable of. I wouldn’t let myself become part of its destruction if I knew I could separate myself from it for just a moment, to remove myself from all the disappointed stares.

My feet hit the wood of the long dock, the bottoms of my shoes echoing through each plank of wood, all borrowed from the destruction of a past home.

I thought of packing up, leaving, heading over to some other place I could call home temporarily, but my fingers hesitated to reach under the bed, and my knuckles curled away from the zipper that connected to the duffle bag that was squished between dirty clothes and shoe boxes filled with memories.

A hand spun me around, pulling me from the daze I had put myself in the second I walked into the new bedroom that was mine to keep in the newly fixed home. It was calloused and warm, yet the coolness of the rings decorated on each finger revealed who the strong hold belonged to.

“Why couldn’t you say something?” I asked bitterly before my eyes even met his. It was just JJ and I in the confinement of our bedroom. The door shut without a crack and the windows sealed off from the outside.

“I told you I wouldn’t.” He smiled. I didn’t find it funny.

“No, but you could have defended me. I would have done it for you.” My lip wobbled. My throat stung, and JJ’s eyes softened. He must have believed it was because he hurt me, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just the idea that nobody would ever deal with what I felt because they hadn’t been burdened with the feeling of it ever before. And therefore, nobody would ever get it, nor have an inkling of an understanding of why I had to come home.

“Y/n/n, come on. It’ll blow over. They’ll be happy to have you back as soon as they get over it.” He tried to comfort me.

When his hands found my shoulders, it felt belittling, condescending, though I knew it wasn’t the case. I convinced myself it was because I was angry. Spiteful, maybe.

“No, JJ, stop. Stop touching me like you care, I can’t…I can’t stand it right now.” I stepped away, throwing his hands off of me like they were poison, or fire, or both.

“Everyone is looking at me like I’m a failure! Like…like I’m something to be embarrassed about. But who are they to say that I failed? Right? I spent my whole life, the years when I’m supposed to be finding myself licking the dirt off of other peoples shoes! And I took it and I didn’t complain because I thought that maybe my day would come, and it hasn’t! How is that fair? And to think I was stupid enough to think that something good would happen to me. But the truth is I hate being out of this stupid town, and this stupid town hates me. I-it’s like they’re all spitting on me and blaming it on the wind. And don’t look at me like I’m crazy because I love you too damn hard to be looked at like that by a boy I would give my whole life for!”

I breathed heavily through my teeth, and my chest raised with so much vigor in my voice, I shook the air with a desperate anger I had felt marinating for decades beneath my skin. Yet, the manhunting and the blaming had pushed it down, and the failure and the fear had only boiled it back up. But it was always there, simmering. JJ just laughed.

“I’m only looking at you like you’re crazy because I think you’re too good to care what anyone has to say about you.” He explained with a smile.

“To you, maybe. But that doesn’t make it true. Whats true is that they all had some image of me painted for them the second I made the decision to go to college, and it was wrong. Because I’m not nearly smart enough to be as interesting or independent as they want me to be. I can’t do organic chemistry, I’ve never passed a calculus test, I’m not a doctor. Nobody ever supported those dreams anyways, not even me, because as amazing as it would be to become those versions of myself, it’s not me.” My face crumpled in defeat finally.

“I’m not…good enough for anything outside of this town.”

For the first time in my life, I saw something in JJ’s eyes as I confessed how I saw myself, how I let my friends—no, my families anger affect how I saw my decisions. I saw dapples of disappointment flickering in the sea of his eyes.

“Do you really think thats true?” He asked calmly, softly. He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted to reach out for me, but he too shared that feeling of uncertainty that had consumed me in the past months.

“Good god, maybe they were right. Maybe you are a failure.” JJ sighed, and my breathing halted. “How can you for one second believe that anything they have to say is true? How can you believe that these things you think about yourself are true?”

“Well what am I supposed to believe? We were all raised to believe the same things, right? The engineers and the scientists are necessary but nobody needs the family man or-or the artists to carry on, right? So why should my dreams of just simple living be tolerated when everyone else craves so much more?” I cried.

“Do you even hear yourself? It’s contradictory in every sentence!” JJ yelled furiously back at me. But his anger wasn’t placed at me, but at the things that led me to believe what I thought.

“Just a few hours ago you were excited to come home. You were certain that this is what you wanted because it was your dream and your life! You wanted to find yourself, to know who you are. And you were right! More dead on than anyone had ever been in my life, and hearing you speak about what you knew inspired me to think more for myself than for the benefit of everyone else! College, or some fancy job, or money won’t make any of us know who we are, that’s your job!” JJ’s eyes were wide. He had decided now, and his hands found a home on my arms, squeezing hard and passionately.

“Anyone can be those things they want you to be, but I promise you, if you stick with what you know you want, everyone you touch will remember you for centuries.” He promised me softly.

“And how do I know if I even know myself? What if I’ve never been home enough long enough to know?”

“Then you’ll find it. You’ll find it, and I’ll find it too. We can find it together.”

My eyes searched his. I could no longer blink away my tears. The liquid was much warmer than the rain that had pelted against my skin, that had slipped down my back and under my shirt to touch the most painful and terrifying parts of myself that I had refused to acknowledge or recover for some time. It was hard to recognize it all, to know exactly who I wanted to be, so, I did what I did know.

I wrapped my arms around JJ tightly, burying my head in the wrinkles of his shirt and let the patterns his arms rubbed circles in my back guide the way I swayed. I let him hold me, because if anything could be uncertain then he was nothing. He was the one thing I’d always known, and maybe that was why I had called him that night. Because in every memory I ever had, he was the one defining memory of home. He was home.

“Will you be mad at me if I never find it?” I asked pathetically against his chest.

“No.” He responded softly, muffled by the way his lips pressed into the top of my head affectionately.

“I could never be mad at you.”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x you #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jjmaybankangst #maybank #maybankxyou #maybankxreader

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jakesangel · 7 months ago

Text

baking with jake ꣑୧

thinking about rainy and boring days with jake. every lego set or marvel movies already been watched ten hundred times, but your boyfriend can't stop whining on your belly, wanting to do something. babyyy~ please play with me, he whines, behind your phone screen, you simply laying on your bed. there is nothing do to jake, we can cuddle and watch a movie tho ? you ask him, still not really paying him attention, mindlessly scrolling on tiktok.mmh okay, he sadly say, his puppy ears going low. the idea to cuddle with you is appealing to him, just enough to make him stop pouting for a while. he backs up a bit from you, and come on top of your chest, right under your arms. his head is between ur soft skin and your phone, eyes looking at what is taking your attention away from him.

the silence is comfortable between you, his whines breaking it here and there as he wants needs your hand playing with his hair. which you gladly comply, making him sigh in contentment. the both of you watch your thumb scrolling on tiktok, him secretly waiting for you to get tired of it. but it's only then he sees a baking video that you scroll past on. he excitedly break away from you, and position himself o nhis knees, his puppy tail wagging, let's bake baby, please ? we will have so much love, he says as his hands claps together. he even uses the round eyes + small pout combo to be sure you'll give in to his pleadings.

you're now behind your counter, all ingredients laid out, jake looking for a playlist to play. what music do you want to hear ? he asks, eyes still strained on his phone, i dont know ? something slow but not sad ? like jazz or rbnb maybe ? you reply, a but unsure as you dont know how jake will be today. clingy ? serious ? funny ? alright, love he mumbles. it takes a minute for him to find it, and once the phone finally connected to the speaker, he sets the phone down and come closer to you. alright, so where do we start ? dry ingredients right ? at first jake was really helpful, doing everything what the tiktok says and was following throughly every step, even measuring with precision all the ingredient. but as the time goes by, n the soft mood sets in thanks to the music, jake can't help but take your hips in his hands, swavving them along the music. jake... ? do i have the remind you that you're the one who ask to bake ? you chuckle a little as he keeps moving along your hips, come on, love, dance with me, he softly replies back, this time hugging you close, his head on your shoulder. you're almost done and i want to dance with my pretty girl. you knew your boyfie wouldn't stay put in place, his needs to be close to you at all time always catching him and no matter what you say, his body will react for him, you can only make him wait. wait til it's ready to put in the oven and ill be all yours yunie. and just like that he just back hugs you, eyes on your soft hands making the dough. he kisses your shoulder and trails the kisses to your nap and neck, you smell so good baby, he whisper as he kisses right behind your ear.

once finally done, he helps you withe oven, taking the tray in one hand and hold yours in the other. he leads you there and once set and oven closed, he takes your lower back in the other and start to slow dance with you. he pulls you close and put his head on top of yours. his natural odor and his arms encircling you, makes you feel safe and at peace. the slow movements and his relaxed breathing against your head makes you comfortable, almost sleepy. this is much better than cooking, he whisper to himself. you can barely heard it as his voice muffled because of arms surrouding your head. you hum, knowing he would feel it on his chest, and dig your head deeper, sighing in contentment. he smiles to himself, understanding you also feel the comfort he is feeling at the moment.

notes : i'm so delulu i need to bake cookies w him asap

perm tag list ( open ) : @allurecile @luvj4key @stwrjvke @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @luvlyhee @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @erenmyman @hoonored @jlheon @ghostiiess @vlaeaex

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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hiiii, I'm new here. saw that your reqs r closed but I'd like to share one scenario idea. the choice is yours whether to write it or not.

Daniel (or Carlos) is your bff. You see each other rarely because of his career. It's summer break, he's back home and you've just had your heartbroken by an asshole. You convince you friend group that you need to go out & celebrate Daniel's (or Carlos') comeback in the hope of getting laid. As the night goes on the driver is more n more frustrated with the guys you choose. He get a lil too much to drink n becomes possessive of you, starts touching you intimately and doesn't care about people surrounding. The night ends in a bedroom where he fucks you slow and sensually like he thinks you deserve and none of those jackasses in the club could

hope you've a nice vacation

Peace out ✌🏾

This is for Carlos since Daniel hasn't gotten rid of that moustache yet

Red Flags || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, friends to lovers WC: 2.4k

It hurt a little that the first notification you received that Carlos was back home came from a gossip page you followed. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise when a distance had grown after you started dating Marco, you weren’t sure if Carlos even knew what had happened since the last time you spoke to him. Your families were close, but even your parents were reluctant to speak to anyone about the breach of privacy your ex had caused, the photos he had tried to leak. It had cost a huge sum to keep them from being published and you had been trying to get over the betrayal since.

Recent coping methods included the company of your friends and the string of nightclubs that lined the beachfront.

“I picked up a stray,” Liana called out as she walked into your house without knocking. You could always count on your friend to be up for a party and she had accepted the invite before anyone else. You stuck your head out of the living room where you had been pouring yourself a stiff drink and found her arm curled around the back of Carlos. “A handsome one too.”

You couldn’t believe it had been nearly six months since you last saw him and it looked like he had somehow matured even more. His beard had filled out to cover his entire jaw and his hair was lush and dark.

Excitement filled you and you rushed towards him as he opened his arms with a smile. “Carlito!”

“Bomboncita,” he replied with a laugh, his strong arms tightening around you as he picked you up and twirled in a circle. “Missed you too.”

“Come out with us, let’s celebrate your win!” You didn’t wait for an answer as you rushed back to get your clutch with your ID and cash.

“She just wants to get laid,” Liana whispered to Carlos. “You can help me keep her away from any red flags.”

There was one thing you could always count on and that was Liana to be the mother of the group. More mature than the rest of your friends put together, she always made sure you got home safe. Everyone else lived in the city but the mansion your parents had given you was out on the coast, thankfully she was more than happy to sober drive for you. Unfortunately, the only cars on the driveway were two seater sports cars.

That was how you ended up starting your night sitting on Carlos’ lap.

“This reminds me of old times, bombón,” he murmured as you looped an arm around his neck and held on tight.

“I don’t know how you passed basic maths,” you shot back with a laugh before looking at Liana. “He would always invite more people than we have seats for during the summer break.”

Liana shook her head with a smirk. “Maybe he just liked having you on his lap.”

“What guy wouldn’t,” you joked, well accustomed to the years of teasing over your close friendship with Carlos. But for all the times you sat in this very position, he had never seen you as more than a friend.

“Should we stop her?” Carlos asked, a quiet growl in his words as he watched you dance with another man. Your hips were too enticing, too sexy, and he had to look away to down his drink and quench the sudden thirst he had.

Liana didn’t seem fazed by your ability to hook a man in with a seductive smile and dance with them until Carlos interrupted or they said something that made you push them away.

“No way, she deserves to have some fun after what happened with Marco.”

He placed the empty glass on the bartop and turned his attention to Liana, a frown etched into his forehead. “What happened with Marco?”

“Oh, she should probably be the one to tell you. I thought you knew.”

A woman in a very low cut dress slipped between Liana and Carlos, interrupting their conversation as she placed a hand on his arm. “You’re that driver, right? Want to dance?”

Carlos shook his head with a polite ‘no thanks’ and brushed her hand off his, rubbing the spot on his sleeve to erase the feel of her touch. “What did he do, Lee?”

The tone left no arguing and Liana chewed her lip nervously before giving in and leaning closer so no one overheard.

Rage burned through Carlos in a way he had never felt before. He had felt anger, sure, frustration too, but this was white hot and liquid molten in his veins, deep in his core. He was lucky that Marco wasn’t in the same city or he would surely be finding himself on the wrong side of the law at that moment.

Carlos didn’t even realise he had crossed the room until his fist bunched into the shirt of the man holding you close and he pushed the stranger away, ignoring the protests he made.

“Carlito!” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me.”

Some of the fire eased as your fingers twirled the strands of hair at his nape and his hands came to rest naturally on your hips as he pulled you closer. “We have a lot of catching up to do, bomboncita.”

You looked up as the odd tone cut through your buzz and immediately knew what he knew. His own eyes were a little unfocused and you could smell the whiskey on his breath, not helping him to control his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The air hissed between your teeth as you sucked in a breath and dipped your chin down so you didn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You would have said I told you so.”

His hand slipped away from your body and you missed the heat of it instantly but then it was cradling your throat, his thumb pushing your chin back up and forcing you to connect with his dark irises. “I told you he wasn’t good for you, he wouldn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“Carlito...” It was a familiar argument every time you had a boyfriend. He would always find reasons to dislike them.

“Listen, please, bombón,” he said as he took a step closer so every inch of his body was flush against yours. His lips brushed your cheek as he turned your head away and whispered the secret he had kept all these years. “Let me show you how you should be treated.”

Surprise filled you and you licked your dry lips at the thought of what he was implying. “Here?” you asked breathlessly and his laugh warmed your cheek.

“No, bombón,” he all but purred as he teased the column of your neck with his nose and his hands danced over the curve of your ass. “What I want to do to you…no, not here.”

His eyes narrowed at someone behind you and you turned to see it was someone you had been dancing with earlier. You couldn’t remember his name, or maybe he hadn’t even told you it, either way you had no interest in taking the drink he offered.

“Red flag, mate,” Carlos growled as he pulled you under his arm and put himself between you and the stranger. “Walk away.”

The man wisely walked away and you laughed as you stepped back into Carlos’ arms. He had held you a thousand times over your long friendship but the way he held you now, possessive and jealous, it changed everything. There was no going back to how it used to be.

“I kind of like this new you,” you teased as you danced with him, turning in his arms and rocking your hips in time to the beat. “So commanding, Carlito, why don’t you try it on me?”

His lips cocked up in a smirk that you saw as you peeked over your shoulder and dragged his hands down your body. “Because you’ve never listen to anything I say.”

Turning to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and brushed your lips softly over his before you could change your mind. “Maybe you just never said what I wanted to hear.”

Carlos swallowed as he saw your pupils dilate with lust and the thin material of your dress did little to hide the fact you wore no bra beneath it, your peaked nipples begging him to take them in his mouth. “We need to leave,” he groaned as he squeezed your ass and bit his lip, “before I get us both into a lot of trouble.”

You barely remembered to thank Liana for dropping you off at home. You barely remembered the drive when every ounce of your brain capacity was spent trying to behave yourself while you sat on Carlos’ lap. You tried to keep still on the corners but you felt his hard length beneath you with each turn and squirm.

It seemed to take forever for Liana to finally pull into your driveway and your foot tapped the tile floor impatiently while she drove off and you slapped the button on the wall to close the gates. You didn’t wait to see them close as Carlos’ lips were on yours and his feet led the way blindly through your home.

Your bed was a mess. You hadn’t planned on bringing a stranger back to your place, but Carlos was no stranger, in fact, he knew you better than anyone ever could or would. He smiled knowingly as he laid you down on the sheets, kneeling between your legs as they parted for him.

His shirt had been abandoned somewhere on the stairs, your dress along the hallway, his trousers at the foot of your bed. You had seen him in this state of undress before, when you would sneak out as teenagers and go for midnight swims in the bay, but the moonlight had left the memory faded. In the light of your room, his skin glowed and shadows highlighted the dips of his defined muscles that lined his body. It was like seeing him in colour for the very first time.

“Are you okay, bombón?” he asked as his fingers danced down your legs lightly, tickling your skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reached your heels. His thick fingers shouldn’t have been able to remove the delicate clasps so gracefully but he eased each shoe off before massaging the aching soles of your feet. “You look like you are thinking too hard.”

“I am thinking you are going way too slow,” you teased. His thumb hit the right spot in your arch and a moan parted your lips while he chuckled at your reaction.

“I told you, princesa, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Tantilisingly slowly, he massaged his way up your legs, devoting his time to your relaxation until you were putty in his hands. Your legs were trembling in anticipation when his thumbs finally reached the laced edge of your panties and he let out an unsteady breath at the damp patch darkening the material. You lifted your hips for him as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down your legs. “I want to taste you, princesa.”

“Please, Carlos,” you begged as he licked his full lips enticingly.

You recognised the look in his eyes, the one that told you to be patient and the groan that had been building morphed into a gasp when he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his thigh. The pressure was teasing and you rocked your hips wanting more as he blanketed you with his body and sealed his lips around your breast.

“Fuck,” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending bolts of lightning to your core as you tightened your legs around his thigh and combed your fingers into his hair. “Oh god, do that again.”

He was more than happy to follow your command and you felt like your body would ignite beneath him. He sensed the change in your body as your breathing laboured and a sweat broke out across your skin. “Not yet,” he warned as he kissed his way up your neck and captured your lips in a blistering kiss. “I want to taste you when you come, princesa.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you shamelessly rode his thigh, the pressure building. “Then you better hurry up.”

A whimper escaped with the disappearance of his leg but when you opened your eyes you were struck by his dark ones, watching you watch him make his way down your body. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him blow a cold breeze over your skin and you shivered as he warmed it again with his tongue.

“I’m starting to think you get off on teasing me,” you whispered with a strained voice.

“I simply get off on you,” he replied just as quietly.

The questions you had were erased with the leisurely stroke of his tongue, tasting you for the first time. He hummed at the reward he had earned with his teasing and his fingers gripped your thighs tighter as he held you spread open for him to devour.

The room filled with the sweet sounds that clawed from your throat as your head swum and your legs quivered. The salacious song grew louder when Carlos curled one finger into your cunt, then two. He pumped his digits as his tongue circled your clit and together they threw you over the edge and you came with undulating waves that rocked your body against his lips.

“Carlito…” you panted as he lapped at your dripping folds, indulging in the decadence he had been craving for years.

“I love you,” he admitted as he rose above you.

You reached for his face, your thumb tracing the shape of his swollen lips that were still shiny with your arousal. “I love you too.”

“No more red flags,” he said as he lined himself with your entrance. “You’re mine, princesa.”

“I’m yours,” you echoed as you pulled his face to yours and sealed the promise with a kiss.

“You always have been.”

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

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prettygirl-gabi · 3 days ago

Text

Dating UConn's wbb members

Paige Bueckers

Spicy Polaroids

Paige almost chokes when you slip the Polaroid into her bag before a game.

“You’re gonna distract me before the game even starts, babe,” she says, biting her lip but carefully tucking the photo into her locker.

She’ll glance at it during halftime and text you afterward: “This good luck charm is undefeated, don’t stop.”

Date Nights

Paige loves casual dates, like late-night drives to grab fast food or watching a movie together in her dorm.

She’s all about cuddling, constantly pulling you into her lap.

“You’re comfier than any blanket I own,” she teases while wrapping her arms around you.

Game Day

She looks for you in the stands every single time she scores.

After the game, she rushes straight to you, still in her jersey, and hugs you tightly.

“I think you’re my real MVP,” she whispers, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Arguments

Paige hates fighting with you, but she gets defensive when she’s stressed.

“I don’t want to argue right now,” she sighs, running her hands through her hair.

After cooling off, she always comes back with an apology and cuddles. “I hate when we fight. I just… I love you too much to stay mad.”

KK Arnold

Spicy Polaroids

KK grins mischievously when she finds the photo in her bag.

“You’re lucky I didn’t open this in front of the team,” she says, smirking.

She keeps it tucked in her wallet as her “good luck charm” and kisses it before every game.

Date Nights

KK loves adventurous dates—bowling, arcade nights, or even roller skating.

She’s competitive but lets you win every now and then just to see you smile.

“Fine, you win. But don’t get used to it,” she jokes, pulling you in for a kiss.

Game Day

KK always blows you a kiss from the court.

After a win, she makes a beeline for you, lifting you in a spinning hug.

“This win’s for you,” she says, kissing your cheek.

Arguments

KK gets frustrated but tries to stay calm.

“Can we just talk about this?” she asks, holding your hands.

She’s quick to apologize and makes up for it by taking you out for ice cream or bubble tea.

Jana El Alfy

Spicy Polaroids

Jana blushes furiously when she finds the photo in her locker.

“You’re really trying to kill me before the game, huh?” she mumbles, her cheeks bright red.

She keeps it hidden but stares at it whenever she needs a confidence boost.

Date Nights

Jana prefers quiet, intimate dates like cooking dinner together or stargazing.

She loves when you play music while she cooks, often pulling you into a slow dance.

“I don’t need a fancy night out when I’ve got you,” she says softly.

Game Day

Jana is shy about PDA but always gives you a subtle nod or wave from the court.

After the game, she’ll wrap her arms around you and whisper, “I played better because I knew you were watching.”

Arguments

Jana gets quiet during arguments, but she’s always willing to talk it out later.

“I hate when we fight. Let’s fix this, okay?” she says, pulling you into a hug.

Allie Ziebell

Spicy Polaroids

Allie stares at the Polaroid, smirking.

“You really know how to get me hyped for a game, don’t you?”

She’ll tuck it into her phone case as a constant reminder of you.

Date Nights

Allie loves creative dates, like painting classes or going to a museum.

She’s always taking candid photos of you.

“You’re prettier than anything in this gallery,” she says with a grin.

Game Day

Allie always gives you a thumbs-up before tip-off.

After the game, she insists on taking pictures with you.

“One for the memories, and one because you’re my lucky charm,” she says, snapping selfies.

Arguments

Allie tends to get sarcastic when upset but quickly apologizes if she hurts your feelings.

“Okay, I was being a jerk. Let me make it up to you,” she says, offering to take you out for a treat.

Ashlynn Shade

Spicy Polaroids

Ashlynn whistles when she finds the Polaroid.

“You’re bad for my focus, babe,” she teases, winking at you before the game.

She keeps it in her bag, saying it’s her “secret weapon.”

Date Nights

Ashlynn loves spontaneous dates, like late-night drives or surprise ice cream runs.

She’s big on PDA, always holding your hand or kissing your cheek.

“I want everyone to know you’re mine,” she says confidently.

Game Day

Ashlynn gives you her jersey after every game, saying it��s “good luck” for next time.

She always winks at you from the court after scoring.

“That one was for you,” she mouths.

Arguments

Ashlynn is fiery during arguments but hates leaving things unresolved.

“I love you too much to keep fighting. Let’s figure this out together,” she says, pulling you into her arms.

Would you like the rest of the team written out, or any adjustments made?

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baronessvonglitter · 5 days ago

Text

Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 8

Rom Com AU divorce laywer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring private investigator!Tim Rockford and plumber!Joel Miller)

Word count: 4,653

Summary: Secrets are unearthed at the infamous Starlight Motel. Are you and Dave strong enough to face them?

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut and allusions to smut. Fluff. Unprotected piv. Nipple play. Fingering. Mentions of infidelity. Catching cheaters in the act. Mild violence/blood/injury. A bit of the male gaze for laughs. Secret m/m relationship. References to embezzlement and crime. Reader wears a dress/skirt. No use of y/n.

Author's note: at the end

Series Masterlist

Maybe it's the caveman instinct in him, but after hearing that you've only ever been with Javier before him, Dave makes it his priority to bring you pleasure in every way possible. After leaving your store, you make your way to your place, getting lost in each other all over again.

He lives for the breathy way you say his name as he thrusts into you, the sweet sound of your gasps when he angles your hips just so to reach the hidden spot inside you.

There's not much sleep to be had that night, your eyes finally closing as the dawn hours approach. It just feels right to wake up next to you, to watch the late morning light dance across your skin, glinting in your hair.

"Have I told you how handsome you are?"

Resting his head in your lap, his face lights up at your words. He can get used to hearing compliments like this, especially from you.

"You're only saying that because you like my work down here," his large hand splays across your thighs as he winks.

"Maybe I am a little biased," you smile back.

Maple looks up from her corner of the room, eyeing you and crying for attention until you pat the bed, inviting her up to sit with you.

Scratching Maple's little ears, Dave looks like he belongs here. Not necessarily the house itself, with just the one bedroom, but he belongs in your life, of that you're sure. You can easily envision a home with him, weekends with the girls, movie nights and board games. Even if you never have your own kids, you know you'd be a good mom to Dave's girls.

That evening you start on a late dinner, his hands wrapped around you as you stand at the stove over a simmering pot, giggling as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. You could get used to simple domesticity with him.

A simple dinner of pasta, sauteed chicken and spinach, paired with your favorite wine, is the perfect ending to the day. As the violet light filters through the kitchen window you fill up the dishwasher, cleaning the remains of the day as Dave sneaks up behind you, planting a kiss on the back of your neck.

Smiling, you turn slowly and envelop him in an embrace, kissing him full on the lips, wanting him again, wanting him always.

Dave groans into the kiss, pressing his body more firmly against yours. He lifts you up onto the counter and steps between your legs, his hands roaming under your shirt, desperate for you again. His lips trail across your throat, his voice rough with longing. "I can't wait any longer.. I need you right now."

"Mmm.. Dave.. fuck me right here.."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and practically tears them off. Then he pulls your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your bra. He nips at your neck again as he deftly unclasps your bra, his actions led by the primal desire to remind you that you're his.

"How'd you do that so fast?" you chuckle.

He smirks, pulling your bra away to reveal you, now gloriously naked before him. "I'm just good with my hands, baby."

"I know.."

As much as a hurry he was in to get you naked, he slows it down, taking a moment to revel in your beauty, thankful to whatever fate brought you together. He caresses your breasts, sucking each nipple and lightly tweaking each one in turn.

"Taste so sweet," he murmurs, cupping each one in his large palm as he lifts your skirt up. "And so fucking wet.."

His fingers delve inside you as his other hand pulls down his pants, releasing his throbbing hardness. It's like he can't get enough of you.

Pulling you to the counter edge, flush with his own body, he rolls his hips against yours, the friction against his cock almost enough to make him come right then. Your desperate whimpers remind him to take control, to make this good for you. Your pleasure is his pleasure. "Tell me what you want, baby," he growls, low and rough in your ear.

A shiver runs through you. You love this side of him. "Want you inside me.."

He guides himself to your entrance, his blood thrumming like a low, primal drumbeat as he teases your folds, delighting in each hitch of your breath, watching how your core quivers in sweet anticipation. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you, Dave," you gasp, "more than I've ever wanted anyone."

He fights the urge to slam his whole length into you, instead feeding it into you slowly, watching himself disappear into your cunt. The sound you make is the sweetest music, your head tipped forward, and he realizes you're watching with him, needing to see the true connection of your bodies.

"Wait, I want to feel you," you whisper.

He freezes, every muscle tense as he holds back. Your warmth surrounds him, taking every ounce of willpower he has not to start moving again. He leans in, his forehead resting on your shoulder. "Y-yeah, baby. I'm right here," his voice comes out strained and rough.

"Ravish me," you whisper, and he growls, all restraint gone. He captures your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss, his hips finally moving against yours, claiming you in every way possible.

One of your hands pulls his hair while the other helps prop you up against the counter. His head ducks down, lips finding your neck, his tongue and teeth teasing your skin, leaving marks in their wake. Perched on the edge of the counter, thighs open wide, he thrusts into you as if his life depends on it. Hearing your desperate cries urges him on, holding back just enough, because even though he's had you several times already, you could still get him to come in a few strokes, just like he's a damn teenager all over again.

"Rub that sweet little clit for me," he whispers, his hands gripping the globes of your ass as he feels you close to the edge, your tight channel quivering around him. "You're almost there, baby. I'm gonna get you there," he grunts, keeping the same pace until your thighs lock around him in an effort to fuck yourself right on him. "That's it, that's it, fucking use me," he groans, letting you work him until you scream his name, your pussy milking him into his own orgasm. Filling you up is officiallly his favorite thing to do, and he stays lodged within you as long as he can to keep close to you.

He pulls you against him, his body still shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax, fingers tangling in your soft locks. "You undo me, baby.."

"You're perfect," you whisper.

"I'm far from perfect, darling, but I appreciate the sentiment." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You, on the other hand.."

His phone rings and he lets out a frustrated sigh, taking a quick moment to answer Tim's call. He reluctantly untangles himself from you. "You've got awful timing, you know that, Rockford?"

"That's the nicest thing anyone's said about me this week," Tim says stoically. "I'm just calling to make sure you're still coming to the motel tonight to confront Carol and Mr. Miller."

Dave doesn't like letting Joel the unscrupulous plumber being referred to as "Mister" as if he deserves the least amount of respect. He groans, knowing he has to get back to reality to deal with his wife. "Yeah, I'll be there tonight." He takes down the address and agrees to meet Tim there.

You watch as he ends the call. "So you're really going?"

"Believe me when I say I'd rather spend all night here with you," he says, cupping your chin. "But I need to confront her and get this over with."

You put your hand on his. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"You'd do that?"

"Of course.. I'd do anything for you, Dave.."

He brings you hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Whatever happens tonight, we'll face it together."

Molly and Alice are spending the night at their friend's house, leaving Carol free to meet with Joel, and Dave free to catch them in the act.

Neither of you speak much as you drive up to the Starlight Motel, a typical charge-by-the-hour place to house people who want their dealings kept secret. Red neon advertises the name, above a sign heralding free HBO and adult channels.

Dave's car pulls up right alongside Tim's nondescript black vehicle. Anticipation is thick in the air between you.

"Are you nervous?" you ask as Dave turns off the engine. You're both sitting in the darkened car.

"Yeah," he answers, sighing, a sense of dread deep in the pit of his stomach. "I don't know how I'm going to feel about seeing her with someone else.."

You rub his arm soothingly, wishing you could kiss away all his worries and they'd magically go away. "She never deserved you, Dave."

"I know." When he looks at you, gratitude and pain are etched into the tired lines around his eyes. "It's still hard, you know? To think she's willingly throwing away years of our marriage-"

Tim knocks on the driver's side window, interrupting. "Hey, they're in room 103. They just went in about twenty minutes ago. You still want to do this, Mr. York?"

Dave takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to encounter. He's used to rehearsing what he's going to say before a trial or a mediation, but now that the moment is about him, he's relying on pure instinct.

"Yeah. I need to do this. Let's go."

As much as you want to be at Dave's side, Tim convinces you it's best for you to stay out of the way, citing that it wouldn't look well for Dave to confront his cheating wife while his girlfriend is with him.

Leaving you back at the car, the lawyer and the PI make their way to the motel room. "You and her ever.. date?" Dave asks Tim, a random question to quell the rising apprehension in his chest.

Tim blushes, or maybe it's the neon sign illuminating his face. "No, it was never like that with us. Strictly business," he assures Dave. "Besides, I'm.. kind of seeing someone."

"Oh. That's great," Dave says encouragingly, a little bit of relief going through him before they approach room 103.

The sounds coming from within set a stab of jealousy and anger flare up in Dave's gut. A man and woman, moaning, gasping, cursing.

"You're sure there in this room?" Dave asks, suddenly frozen to the spot.

They're really going at it..

"This is the one," Tim says. "Do you want to knock or should I?" A gun is in his holster at his side, a fact he keeps hidden from Dave, not wanting to alarm him. Sometimes even an easy thing like this can go badly, especially where adultery is involved.

Dave nods that he'll do it, takes a deep breath and attempts to shut out the obscene noises coming from within. He raises his hand and raps firmly on the door.

The sounds stop and there's a shuffling, like blankets tossed aside. A man opens the door with a sheet around his waist. His salt-and-pepper hair is slicked back, deep-set brown eyes narrowed in annoyance at being interrupted. "What the hell do you want?" he asks in a deep, gravelly, Texan accent.

Dave freezes, the sight of this man who Carol has risked everything to meet up with and spend time with, is like a punch in the gut. Joel Miller. But he forces himself to remain composed, his heart thudding in his chest and his voice cold and measured.

"I'm looking for my wife."

There's a gasp from within as Carol hides under the duvet. Dave's gaze hardens. "I know she's in there, now let me in."

He shoves past Joel, with Tim pushing the door open before it can be closed on him.

Dave almost pities his wife in this moment, watching her try to hide as if he really wouldn't find her. "You were never very good at being subtle, were you, Carol?"

She groans, sitting up and covering herself. She casts an irked glance at Tim, who's explaining the situation to Joel, keeping him at arm's length so Dave can speak with her.

"I can explain," she says, wincing when Dave gives a bitter scoff.

"Can you? Can you really? I'm standing in a room where you were just caught in bed with another man, and you think you can explain this away?"

"You pushed me towards this!" she fights back. "You were always working late, or out of town. I wanted something for myself!"

Dave can hardly believe what he's hearing. He always thought Carol to be smarter than this, but here she is, using the lamest excuse in the book. "You wanted something for yourself, so you decided to cheat on me instead of talking to me about how unhappy you were? Or leaving me, or even just asking for a divorce?" His jaw tightens in anger and disbelief.

"I don't want a damn divorce, Dave. I just want to be with Joel now and then, okay?"

This must be a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare he'll wake up from, only to find you there next to him in bed, slumbering peacefully as he plants a good morning kiss on your shoulder.

You are the only reason he's not completely falling apart at the seams right now.

"Is that how little you think of me?" he asks. "You love me just enough to keep me around, for what? You don't need my money, you barely pay attention to the kids. Just go off with this asshole, forget all about us, and live whatever goddamn fantasy you have built up in that head of yours."

"Dave-"

He whips around to address Joel, who's been letting the scene play out, amused.

"Did you know she was married? Did she even bother to tell you?"

Joel smirks, and Dave wants to punch him right on the jaw. "Look, buddy, she came onto me like a cat in heat. Would you turn down free pussy like that?"

Carol's hiding her face in her hands while Dave's own hands ball up into fists, Tim's voice barely registering in his ears, cautioning him to stay cool as he gets between him and Joel.

Heated words are exchanged, with Tim trying to get both men to calm down, shouting over both of them.

"What are you going to do now?" Carol asks, her voice small, humbled for once.

"You really want to know what I'm gonna do now? I'm gonna end this farce of a marriage, for starters. And I'm gonna expose you to our friends and family so they all know the kind of person you really are."

"Dave," she gasps, "you wouldn't!"

He's unrepentant, every word that comes out of his mouth more than she even deserves. If he was a worse person he'd leave without telling her. He'd pack up and take the girls away. "Don't tell me what I would and wouldn't do. Obviously we don't know each other that well anymore."

For the first time Carol looks truly contrite, but Dave steels himself against her manipulative ways. "At least let me clean up and we can talk about this. Please."

He nods begrudgingly, turning away as she goes to the bathroom. Soon the shower is heard running.

"You can have her," Dave tells Joel. "She's not my wife anymore. I guess she never was."

Joel scoffs. "She ain't worth the trouble. Crazy bitch thinks I'm in love with her. Maybe you take her," Joel tells Tim.

The PI looks disgusted. "Is that how you usually talk about women? I should've let Dave beat the shit out of you. Maybe then you'd have some sense knocked into you."

"Don't fucking talk about her that way," Dave agrees, casting Joel a repulsed glance. "Is it too late for me to beat the shit out of him?" he asks Tim.

"As if you fuckin' could," Joel sneers.

"Big talk from someone wearing a bedsheet around his waist," Tim rolls his eyes. "She's been in there a long time, hasn't she?"

Both Dave and Joel hurry to the restroom, finding it unlocked, the shower running with no one in it.

"She's gone. She left through the fucking window," Dave says, pushing past Joel and going around the side of the building.

Tim follows as Joel quickly puts his jeans on before running out as well.

There, in the alley behind the motel, is Carol, sprawled on her back, and you on top of her torso, pinning her down.

"Got her!" you announce, trying to catch your breath as you straddle Carol, your dress riding up your thighs and breasts spilling over the front of your dress.

For a full minute all three men stare in surprise and lust.

Waiting in the car, you get out for some fresh air, keeping an eye on the motel room as Dave and Tim went in. Your heart leaps in your throat. It's really happening..

What if he doesn't choose you? What if he decides Carol is what he wants?

You shake your head of these thoughts. Dave promised he wanted you and you alone. It's not just the promise you believe, but you trust the feeling you have when you're with him, that spark in the air that you've never experienced before, not even when you were in love with Javier.

There's no motion from the room. Maybe it's going to be a peaceful ending after all..

Grabbing a couple dollar bills from your purse you start towards the side of the building to get a soda from the machine. Right as a cold drink is deposited in the little receptacle, you grab it as you feel someone running towards you.

Not at you per se, but in your direction. You know her face immediately, though you've never met her before.

Carol.

She's in a bra and underwear, running into the alley behind the motel. Without a second thought you take off after her.

"Hey! Stop!" you call out, but she doesn't listen.

Running on adrenaline, you catch up with her, knocking her to the ground as you lose your footing, landing on top of her. You ignore the shock of pain throbbing in your scraped knees and shins as the three men come around the corner, finding you.

"What's going on here?" Dave asks, the first to be snapped out of his stupor.

"Let go of me, you bitch!" Carol growls, and while you're momentarily distracted by Dave, she backhands you, cutting your cheek with her ring.

The men come forward, helping you up while Joel pulls Carol off the ground, pinning her hands behind her back. "Actin' crazier than a damn feral cat," he hisses at her, his antipathy obvious.

"Are you okay?" Dave asks, tenderly touching your cheek, pulling back when you wince. "It's just a scratch, baby. We can fix it."

"Who the fuck is that?" Carol yells. "Fucking someone already, Dave? You've got to be kidding me!"

"Who she is is none of your damn business. You lost the right to question me about who I spend my time with when you decided to go crawling into bed with this scumbag," he glared at her and Joel.

"Scumbag? Fuck you and your bitch, you fuckin' asshole!" Joel approaches threateningly. Dave places you behind him to protect you.

"You better watch your goddamn mouth, pal, because the next thing coming out of it will be your own teeth if you don't stop talking about her like that."

"I don't think you've got the balls-"

Dave swings, his fist connecting solidly with Joel's jaw. He stumbles back, shock and surprise on his face as Carol immediately hovers over him, screaming at her husband.

"Baby," you softly take hold of Dave's other hand.

"I'm all right," he says, taking you in his arms and kissing you.

"Apologize," he says to Joel, cold as ice. "Tell her you're sorry."

Joel's wiping blood from his mouth, spitting it out on the ground. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Didn't catch that."

"Sorry," he repeats, getting up and shoving Carol away from him.

Carol groans from the ground watching Joel leave her and watching you and Dave embracing. "Really??"

"Find somewhere else to sleep tonight, Carol," he tells her, wrapping his arm around you as you start to walk away. "I'll have your things packed up and ready for you to take."

The motel office has a first aid kit and a restroom for both you and Dave to clean yourselves up in. The desk clerk doesn't look happy about violence occurring on his property and advises you to get yourselves patched up and leave before he calls the cops. Tim stays at the desk to talk some sense into him as you and Dave share the small sink to clean your wounds.

The cut on your cheek is superficial and shouldn't leave a scar, but Dave cares for you gently nonetheless. He softly applies a butterfly bandage to your cheek, pressing a soft, healing kiss to it after, and tends to your scrapes on your knees and legs, cleaning the gravel out of the skin. His knuckles are bloody and brusied from when he decked Joel, and you tend to those as well, washing and appying antibiotic cream and and sterile bandages, giving them a kiss as well.

"What a night, huh?" he says, his smile showing signs of tiredness.

"Yeah.. how do you feel?"

"Honestly.. you know that feeling when you're going to puke, and you don't want to because it's gross, but when you finally do puke you just feel better?"

You chuckle at that. "Yeah."

"I feel exactly like that."

A sigh leaves your lips as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Dave.."

"It was worth it all, if it let me be with you."

You share a soft kiss, pressing your foreheads together as you enjoy this little moment of solitude.

"I don't want any more drama or surprises," you tell him. "I've had enough twists and turns to last a good while."

And just as the words leave your lips, there's a commotion at the front desk just outside. You and Dave exchange a look before heading out there.

"I know he's here, Tim! One of his goons finally talked. He's here, and not even you knew that!"

You recognize the voice before you see the blond woman screeching at Tim in the motel lobby.

Connie Murphy, the wife of you ex-husband's business partner, Steve.

"Hey.. Connie?" You approach her from behind Tim. "What are you doing here? Is Steve okay?"

You could care less about him, the way he always treated you as if you were invisible, only referring to Javier when you three were in the same room.

Her eyes land on you, the look in them softens. You hadn't been especially close with her while married to Javi, but she'd been kind enough to send a gift and give comforting words after your divorce.

"It's Steve. He's holing up here. I paid this so-called private investigator and he never tracked him to this spot." She shoots Tim a deadly glare.

"I'm sorry, Connie," you tell her. Of course Javier and Steve would be best friends, business partners, and adulterers. Birds of a feather really do stick together.

"I'm not working now, Mrs. Murphy," Tim calmly explains. "Do you know what room he's in?" He turns to the night manager. "Can you tell us?"

It's against the law, he says, but his tune changes when Dave slips him a fifty dollar bill.

"Murphy and his companion are in room 206, upstairs," he says, palming the bill and stuffing it in his pocket.

"Who is it?" you ask, following her up the stairs, Tim and Dave following right after.

"It's not who he's with that I'm concerned about, it's the fact that he's been embezzling money from the club," she says, her face taking on a hardened look. "Some of the money that comes in from some of the.. financiers" she sneaks a glance at Tim, "has gone missing, and Steve right along with it. I'm gonna track him down and turn him in." She had a cold gleam in her eye and you believe that she really will turn the tables on her no-good husband.

Room 206 is quiet, not much going on inside. The glow from the TV is visible through a crack in the curtains.

Connie breaks the silence, pounding on the door. "Open up, Steve! I know you're in there!"

She only quits pounding when Steve answers, shirtless and obviously shocked to see a crowd at his door. "Connie, what the hell?" He closes the door behind him, stepping out onto the balcony.

"What do you mean what am I doing here, what are you doing here??" she pushes him against the wall as Tim intervenes, keeping her away from doing more harm.

"Steve, babe, what the fuck's going on out there?" The door opens and Javier steps out, his hair mussed, wearing only his briefs. His neck and chest are covered in love bites. His hand snakes around to Steve's middle in a protective lover's clasp right before he sees the crowd gathered right outside his door. He takes his hand away but you've already seen it.

Javi and Steve. Lovers.

"Of course you're with him," Connie sneers. "When are you ever not together? I'll have you know the feds are on the way. Did you really think you could hide forever?"

She turns to you, a look of victory on her face. "I knew it. I should have told you before, but I had no proof, and after you left him I figured you wouldn't care anyway."

Stunned as you try to processs this new information, your gaze flits between Javi and Steve. They were always together. Steve always seemed jealous of you, protecting whatever secrets Javier possessed, encouraging his infidelities. Because he was too afraid to lose him.

"Javi, what the fuck?" you whisper. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Jesus, sweetheart, I didn't know how. I didn't think you'd understand."

"But.. all those women.."

He shrugs, looking defeated. "I guess I was trying to fool myself into thinking I wasn't actually.. you know."

"Gay," Dave says, also invested in the play-by-play of this circumstance.

"Well, yeah," Javi nods. "Wait.. what the fuck are you doing here?"

Sirens howl in the distance. You crane your neck to see lights of blue and red traveling quickly up the road to where you are.

"Did you really do all those things?" you ask him. "I don't care that you're with Steve, that's the last thing I'm worried about. Did you really take the money?"

He gives you a long look, finally sighing, knowing his time was up. "Do me one favor, okay? Don't tell Cindy. She should hear it from me."

Shaking your head, you wish him luck as Dave takes your hand and leads you downstairs to the car.

"Take care of her!" Javier shouts down to Dave. It's the last of him that you'll ever have to hear as both of you leave the past behind and walk into a future you can build together.

A/n: The bomb has dropped. I read somewhere about a woman whose husband was constantly sleeping with other women, and as it turned out he was gay 🤷🏽‍♀️I thought it'd be an interesting twist (not that it excuses any of it) but it also looks like Javi's gonna have his day in court for his crimes 😎 And Joel being an asshole was kind of a given. I wanted him as a foil, and Carol doesn't deserve a happy ending IMO. Thank all of you for your continued support ❤️

dividers by @strangergraphics and @adornedwithlight 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

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#pedro pascal #dave york imagine #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york au #dave york #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york series #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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cosmos-coma · 2 months ago

Text

Winter Mountain Soldier Spy - Part 1

A/N: I'M BACK. I've been stewing on and writing this idea out for an entire year now and I'm finally ready to put out the first chapter! I'm REALLY excited for this piece because I really wanted to make it self indulgent and more applicable to who I am and what I do. I am a naturalist and I live in lonely wooded mountains and I wanted to really reflect that. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Pairing: Winter Soldier x F!Reader

Words: 3747

Summary: The Winter Soldier, armed with only a knife and his fragmented memories finally flees HYDRA's grasp. Bloody and fading, he stumbled through the woods and countryside to find safe refuge.

You think yourself a simple woman. You live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by deep woods and farm fields and you're happy. It's a sleepy little place, hardly any excitement to go around, but you're happy to call it home. When driving home on the empty country road you encounter the last thing you expect: a man stumbling from the woods, bleeding out and wary of anything that moves. You try to take the soldier home, but will he accept your help?

And even If he does… Will he stay?

Bucky Masterlist | AO3

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

________

Flecks of snow danced along the wind, dusting the forest floor in a pristine blanket of white that perfectly blended his dark figure into the rocks and surrounding woods. Cold, biting air settled around him like an old friend, his breath puffing out like chimney smoke, but he did not feel it.

A raven cawed its passing overhead- a grim reminder of exactly what he was here for. He watched his target move through the scope; male, average height, middle-aged, unremarkable in just about every way- save for the fact that he happened to be in HYDRA’s way.

‘A man… not just a target.’ The Winter Soldier reminded himself in an odd thought, but he knew better than to say it out loud. The last time he did, it didn’t end well.

‘There are civilians-‘ he paused, wincing instinctively at the pain that used to follow, he corrected himself, ‘There are obstacles on the premises.’ His target was with their family, surrounded by bodies who had been getting in the way all evening- all evening until now.

‘Proceed as intended,’ his handler replied, their voice void of any remorse for their hand in this bloodshed.

His finger ran over the trigger, but remained hesitating, ‘They’re children….’

They had him wiped mere seconds after that mission’s debriefing, but- whether fortunately or unfortunately- they did not wipe him well enough. Fragments of thoughts and memories of the waking weeks before remained like scattered puzzle pieces. Now all he had left was to put them back together.

He’d been discovering more and more of these fragments as of late- remembering pieces of missions here and there, things he’d done…. And blood he’s spilled. Yet these memories never go very far back, a few months at most, and he was beginning to wonder just how much was still locked away.

“I said: Soldier, do you copy?” The voice in his earpiece interrupted, slicing through his thoughts and bringing him back to the task at hand. “Prepare the machines, we may need a wipe upon debrief...” he heard his handler continue in the background.

“I copy.” He was quick to reply, his tone even and cold just as it always was. He couldn’t risk another wipe; he had been quiet and obedient to a T to keep his changes under the radar. He just needed to hold out until the time was right.

“Finish your job and get back here for debriefing.”

His finger twitched on the trigger.

“Yes, Sir.”

——-

The world was painted in various shades of black, white, and muted browns, all blending together as you drove through the winding country road. The sky was a blanket of low gray clouds, tiny droplets of rain making their slow descent like dust from a shaken-out quilt. Fog crept down the mountainsides like an ancient creature scouring the earth, its breath leaving ghostly wisps that lasted long after the creature had moved on.

You hummed, half-singing the lyrics to a song you didn’t even realize was stuck in your head. You tried to listen for the patter of rain against your windshield, but even that was muted, too soft to even leave an audible mark.

This was one of your favorite types of weather- a midwinter rain. Perhaps it was something about the way it melted the snow back into what it once was, making the cycle whole again. Or perhaps you just liked the dreary weather, and there wasn’t any more to it than that.

Wide open fields expanded to the right of you, sectioned off by old stacked-stone walls and whatever old trees had taken root there decades before. To the left of you lay steep forested mountain, the ground littered with rotting leaves and brightened only by the still green ferns that poked out of the melting snow. Mossy rocks of all sizes covered the mountainside, providing texture and support for the fallen trees as well as giving credence to the local phrase that there were ‘two rocks for every dirt’.

Nodding along to the quiet music now knowingly stuck in your head, you took the last sharp turn toward home when-

SCREECH

You slammed on your brakes, nearly standing straight up on the pedal as you came to a screaming halt, your bumper coming just shy of the large dark figure that stumbled wildly into the road. At first, you’d thought it was a massive black bear- albeit out of season- until the figure slowly clambered up onto its two legs and turned to face you.

This was no bear.

His cold, distant blue eyes seemed to bore right through you, leaving nothing hidden as he scanned you through the windshield. Long strands of dark, shoulder-length hair framed what you could see of his face, the rest hidden behind a rigid, muzzle-like mask. Even then you still found him… oddly handsome-for a man who had just stumbled from the woods.

Broad yet slumped shoulders drew your eyes next- the way they stretched and pulled his leather jacket with each labored breath. His right side had a full sleeve, sitting snuggly around a muscular arm while the other side was completely bare, showing off a silvery, plated prosthetic the likes of which you’d never seen before. He looked like a soldier, a man on a mission - but as his hand pulled away from his side you began to guess that was not quite the case- not anymore. His hand came away a blazing crimson as blood coated every inch of his palm and began to steam against the cool air. It looked like he had been trying to apply pressure as he ran- and from the looks of it, it was not working.

“Fuck…,” you whispered, quickly putting on your hazard lights and jumping out of the car. Thank god this road was always empty. “Are you okay? What-What happened? Did you-“ Your words faltered as you spotted other wet streaks running down his jacket, fitted with bullet holes above each one. Glancing briefly into the woods you spotted the scant red trail left in his wake, following it with your eyes until it ran out of sight. Blood continued to pour out of him even now as his pulse hammered on. How on earth had he still been running like this…?

“You’re hurt-“ you said, stepping toward him with your hand outstretched.

Blue eyes widened in a flash of momentary fear as he took a staggering step back, trying to keep his distance and biting back a grunt of pain as it jolted up his side. “I’m fine,” he spoke firmly through the mask, his voice far rougher than you had imagined, or was it just the exertion? Fingertips hovered over the knife hidden in his belt as his feet steadied into a defensive stance, repeating, “I’m fine….”

“You’re not fine...! You’re bleeding out!” You exclaimed, “I’m not here to hurt you, okay? Please, just let me drive you to a hospital or-“

“No-“ he rushed, a slight panic hidden in his tone that he was quick to extinguish before continuing, “No hospitals….”

Slowly you nodded and held your hands up, glancing down at your feet as you risked another small step toward him, “Okay… Alright, that’s fine. No hospitals then-“

His fingers glided over the handle of his knife, but for some reason, his instinct refused to draw it. Perhaps it was the disarming softness in your expression… or…. Or was it the loud breath echoing in his ears? Unaware at first that they were his own they now became something overwhelming, taking over his senses as they ebbed and flowed shallowly. When did he start breathing so hard? Has he always been moving this slow…? And Why… Why were his thoughts… lagging…?

“-Let me take you to my place instead.” You suddenly offered, surprising even yourself as you took another slow step forward, yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself as you continued, “It’s just up the road here.” You pointed beyond him, “I can patch you up and then you can leave whenever you want, okay? No hospitals. No doctors. Just please let me help you try to survive this….”

The Soldier’s jaw clenched as you finally came within arm’s reach, his eyes searching and scanning for any semblance of a threat in you. But there was none. All he saw were your big eyes; Soft, round, and… earnest. It wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with- seeing or feeling- But between the blood still weeping from his wounds and the way his vision was beginning to swim in his eyes he wasn’t sure he had a choice anymore.

Slowly he nodded, pulling his hand away from the knife and bringing it back to its place on his side, “Your place…” he breathed heavily between his words, “No hospitals….”

“No hospitals,” you agreed with a short nod, moving even slower this time as you reached out again and laid your hand on his cool metallic shoulder. Like nervous prey, his wide eyes watched your every move as you came up beside him, your hands carefully placed between the bullet holes to support him.

He stepped forward on his own at first, his movements seeming to insist that he could do it himself, that he was still fine, but as his feet began to stumble toward the next step his cold metal hand shot out for your support. His movement still felt stiff and distanced now under your supportive touch, yet you found him leaning into you more and more as you helped him towards the car.

Once the stranger sat securely in the passenger seat you hopped into your still-idling car and sped off through the rest of the empty winding roads.

You tried hard not to let yourself get distracted as you drove, yet you still found yourself stealing glances at the handsome stranger. He had finally relaxed into the seat, his head falling back against the headrest as he took in heavy breaths. Though blood still seeped from his open wounds, you grew hopeful as his breath began to even out; with any luck, it’ll keep him from bleeding out in your care.

You lived along a quiet semi-dead-end road, with only a few houses here and there that sat occupied by older couples you had yet to actually see. You were fortunate to be where you were, with no neighbors close enough to bother you and town a good 30 minutes away, you could live in relative peace and solitude.

Pulling to a stop in front of your old farmhouse you quickly hopped out to help him in, finding his rather dense weight leaning heavier on you now than before. His adrenaline must’ve finally passed and now he was beginning to fade. You weren’t sure how many waking minutes he had left- let alone if you could continue carrying him.

You needed to work fast.

“Come on, big guy- we’re almost there…” You urged as you tucked yourself under his thick metal arm. He didn’t fight this time as you slipped your arm around his torso, half-walking and half-dragging his heavy feet inside. He grunted half-heartedly as you entered the house, looking around through slow-blinking eyes.

“Okay, we’re almost- It’s right over there- fuck… !” You felt his knees begin to buckle beneath him, tugging the both of you down. Thankfully the coffee table was already nearby and, though it was a struggle, you managed to pivot and slowly lower him onto the table, leaving him in an upright slump.

Tired blue eyes looked up at you- your relentless efforts and your heavy breaths as you took a second to recover. His lips parted beneath his mask; he wanted to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what it was. But before any noise had the chance to spill from his lips you were off again, the sounds of you rummaging through drawers and cabinets evident as you went throughout the house.

“Aha!” you exclaimed in victory as you ran back to your patient, the first aid kit held proudly in hand.

You approached the stranger once more, kneeling down, “We need to get this mask off first, okay? You need to breathe properly…” You explained as you reached toward his face. With a flash of silver, you felt cool metal wrapped around your wrist; impossibly strong fingers held you with surprising delicacy. Though fear dwelled in his exhausted eyes, his touch held no malice, only that of caution.

For a brief moment, the two of you stood in silence, fixed in place by each other's unyielding gaze until your hand finally continued on its path. Though his grip loosened, his touch remained steady on your skin as you disconnected the mask with a click, and slowly pulled it away.

You prayed he didn’t hear your quiet gasp as you finally gazed upon him. Soft blushed lips, protected from the winter’s harsh cold, lie parted as he breathed through the radiating pain. His sharp jaw and shallow cleft chin were roughened with days-old stubble, perfectly suiting his disheveled look.

Trying to focus your attention back on the fading man in your care, you carefully peeled away the blood-soaked jacket and shirt, unleashing a strong whiff of iron along with it. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you looked over the man stranger below you, trying not to let your mind dwell on his state of undress. ‘NO! No, getting distracted now! Focus..!’’ You yelled at yourself internally, reining your thoughts back into place as you went about patching up the gruesome wounds.

He had been hit 3 times; once in his shoulder, once in the side, and once right above his hip. Thankfully the one on his hip seemed to go straight through, but the other two were not as lucky. You’d have to go in through his back and dig each and every piece out.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your tweezers dug through his flesh for every fragment you could find. It took all your composure to ignore the way each sickening squelch turned your stomach, but somehow you managed to prevail. “You were shot in the back…? ” You prodded, trying to keep him awake as you pulled out the last of the pieces. “You must’ve pissed someone off real bad….”

His head bobbed shallowly, “Something like that…,” his brows drew together in pain, but otherwise kept his practiced expression. Ever observant eyes and craning neck tried to watch you as best he could over his shoulder, but to little avail.

It’s your touch that concerned him now; like a taser, each brush of your fingers sent lightning across his skin. Its warm, crackling sensation ran throughout his body like a storm cloud charging up for its final strike. It was a new sensation for him, the way his skin grew warm and his heart stirred- it had never happened before, and yet still felt so deeply familiar- as if in another life he’d known it by name.

Did you feel it too? The thrum of energy deep in your bones? The kind that both put you at ease and made your heart bounce off its walls? The kind that soothed your inner storm yet still left the waves running passionately for the shore?

He grunted, digging the heel of his palm into his forehead as he attempted to wrangle his thoughts. ‘It’s the blood loss talking. Nothing more…’ he assured himself, his metal hand moving to clamp tighter over the still-seeping wound of his hip. The pain would ground him, force him to think clearly again, of that much he was sure.

“You okay?” You asked, your worry evident as you smoothed the medical tape over his skin “I’m almost done with your back and then I can move on to your hip….”

It felt like his mind was being torn in two, warring with itself as it tried to determine whether or not he could really trust you. “ Fine… I’m fine,” he barely assured.

He couldn’t afford to trust anyone- not yet. He was on the run now and who knows how far HYDRA’s claws reached or who they had already sunk them into… but as you moved to settle before him, a small smile on your lips as you brushed his metal hand aside- he wanted to.

He’s never wanted anything more.

You simply nodded, not wanting to press him any further, and gently pushed his hand out of the way, revealing the last of his wounds. Eyes followed your every movement as you secured the last bandage, each accidental brush of your fingers against his skin, each firm press of the gauze against the staunched wound.

He wanted to trust you.

“There… that should be the last bandage,” You said with a grateful sigh, wiping the blood from your hands, “but I’m no doctor, so you might need to take it easy for a while.” You said as you stood once again and motioned to the couch behind him, a small, yet resigned frown passing over your expression, “However…I did promise that you could leave whenever you were ready….”

By God, he wanted to trust you.

You wished beyond anything for him to stay. Not only for the pleasant curve of his lips, the smooth skin that stretched perfectly across toned muscle, nor for the interesting company he would no doubt be. No… it was his eyes that really captured you, that made your heart beg for him to stay. Cold, calm, and vibrant blue- the kind eyes that wrapped around you and held you under. It reminded you of a frozen lake and part of you craved to find out what made him so.

But you knew better than to try and hold him.

“I’ll gather the rest of the bandages and antibiotics for now, but there's no rush.” You offered with a tight smile, hoping he couldn’t read your expression as easily as you felt it was painted on your face. You carried the littering of packaging and the now significantly emptier first aid kit back to the bathroom, pausing just inside the cracked door to listen for leaving footsteps.

But the Soldier hesitated.

His eyes moved to the front door. It was left ajar in the rush to get him inside, the cold of winter still pouring in. He could leave. Leave and never look back, ever moving toward a fate unknown. But a part of him- a part that had been wiped clean so many times- urged him to stay and find fate here.

For once in his life he could choose to listen to this part of him, no matter how small or repressed…

And he would not waste the opportunity.

———-

Craning your neck to look beyond the pile of blankets, pillows, and clothes overflowing in your arms, you padded your way up the creaky wooden stairs, “Hopefully, the spare room will be okay for you tonight. And I found some old clothes in the basement that should be about your size.” You offered as you blindly opened up the door before you.

The man followed only a few steps behind, his trained footsteps eliciting barely a squeak on the usually talkative staircase. He watched on in confusion as you made up the modest queen-sized bed for him, and stashed a few extra blankets and pillows to the side just in case.

You smiled gently as you finished, and finally turned to hand him the clean change of clothes.

Like a sheet of ice in the ever-warming sun he felt his once-piercing gaze now grow soft as he took the small bundle with the utmost care.

It was such a quick and subtle change you weren’t sure you really saw it, but you sincerely hoped you did.

“I know it’s not much right now, but I hope you’ll still be comfortable for the night.” You said as you looked over the room, hoping you didn’t forget anything.

He blinked, tilting his head to the side a bit as he lingered on your words.

Why would it matter if he was comfortable? What purpose would it serve you? And why were you just giving him these things…? Did you want something in return? “I…” He paused, a small frown coming to his lips before he managed to speak again- the most emotion you’d seen from him yet. “Why?” he questioned.

“Why? Oh, well…“ You thought for a moment, surprised by the unorthodox question, and eventually shrugged, “You deserve to be comfortable…It seems like you’ve been through a lot recently and you deserve to finally rest…” you said with a hint of a smile. And you meant it. Between the bullet wounds and the near-bleeding out- not to mention, whatever must have come before- you figured he probably deserved a few years rest if nothing else. But for now, you were happy to help him take it day by day.

He didn't return your smile- though you didn’t really expect him to- but still, a softness lingered in his eyes. However, this softness did not dwell alone; beyond that, it laid an inkling of fear- an inkling of impermanence. How long could all of this really last? And what would it be like when his time finally ran out?

But for now, he would allow himself the rare unguarded moment as he repeated your words, his voice scant above a whisper, “I deserve to rest….”

His eyes cast down to the soft fabric in his hand, his calloused thumb running over its well-loved structure. They smelled old, but it didn’t bother him. These were the first clothes- the first gift- that he had received in… well, he wasn’t sure how long.

With a soft and reassuring smile, you nodded and slipped past him as you stepped out the door, “I’ll let you get settled, okay? I’ll be downstairs if you need anything-“ You paused “Ah… Hm, I guess I never really got your name in all the rush earlier…”

The Soldier shook his head, his voice rough and low with its minimal use, “Don’t have one.”

Your brows furrowed, “You don't have a name…? Hasn’t anybody ever called you anything...?”

His weight shifted from side to side as he thought about his next words, his eyes flicking up to yours; they looked like they carried the weight of lifetimes.

“They used to call me the Soldier… the Winter Soldier.”

_________

General Bucky Taglist:

@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions @yeehawbrothers

My apologies if i missed anyone! Its been a while writing for the winter soldier! If you wanted to be added to the general or WMSS Taglist please ask and let me know!

#winter soldier!bucky x you #winter soldier!bucky x reader #winter soldier!bukcy x y/n #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james Buchanan Barnes x you

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silverbladexyz · 1 year ago

Note

Hi love! Can I request The Flags and Yukito with a fem s/o who demands princess treatment? I’ve been seeing it all over tiktok and you write all those characters so accurately so I thought I’d request💕

Of course :) I apologise if this wasn't what you wanted, as I tried to base it off of their theoretical love languages 🖤

The images used belong to their original owners.

TW: Mentions of injuries, and uh this ended up kinda long. Chuuya is now included in every request with the Flags. Female reader.

The Flags and Ayatsuji with a female S/O who demands princess treatment

Pianoman:

-You don't need to ask him; he already treats you like a princess. No wait- you ARE his princess :))

-He is the leader of the Flags, and being the leader he is means that he treats everyone with patience and respect, even if he doesn't know them. And it is no different for his beloved S/O; except he treats you with 100x the amount of love, patience, respect, and loyalty than those he deems as his acquaintances

-Pianoman wants to be the perfect boyfriend, and he'll make sure to reflect that in the way he acts towards you. He is a big fan of gentlemanly traditions such as kissing the back of your hand while greeting you or holding the door open for you to pass through, as he views them as the most romantic ways of giving you the love that you deserve- alongside catering to your needs when he can. He's a giver, and he will gladly give everything he can give to you

-He'll definitely call you his princess, and he uses it almost every time he addresses you. It's one of the only pet names that is even deserving of your beauty, and he'll never fail to remind you of it everyday. Sometimes, he'll even call you his queen when he's in a more intimate mood

-Always makes time for you. Even if the Boss ordered for his supernotes to be delivered as soon as possible, Pianoman will still drop everything he is holding and immediately be by your side, ready to listen to every precious word that falls from your beautiful lips. You're the most important person in the world to him; and what kind of boyfriend- no, what kind of man would he be to put his girlfriend after his needs and wants? Even though you do tell him that he doesn't need to be this attentive to you, he still wants to make sure that he's spending enough time with you for your happiness

-He will definitely spoil you! And he's smart about it too; oh, you can't decide whether you want this leather jacket or this silk gown? Why not get them both? Don't worry about the cost, because he's able to negotiate with the salesperson to get a more reasonable price. Don't feel bad about wasting his money, because you're worth every single cent that he spends on you 🖤

-Now he does have a teasing side to him as well... he'd love to fluster you with compliments at any chance he could get. The way you get flustered when he's only telling you the truth make him chuckle quite a bit. Would also be the type to engrave your initials onto his pen so that whenever he's doing his paperwork, the simple texture of the engraved letters brings him a sense of comfort in the dreary time of filling out reports

-Pianoman strikes me as the type to have acts of service as a love language. So he'll not only do all the chores for you, he'll also surprise you with an exquisite breakfast in bed or a lovely bouquet of flowers on your table. And tucked right amongst the flowers, is a small note saying how much he loves you and how lucky he was to be able to call you his <3

-SLOW DANCING IN THE KITCHEN WITH MUSIC PLAYING!! To be able to hold you close, stepping in sync together- it is a very private moment that is only shared between the two of you. He'll dance at whatever pace you're comfortable with, and at the end of it, he'll dip you and look deep into your eyes, leaning in for a slow, passionate kiss

-Surprises you with hugs when you're in the middle of working too. I headcanon that his arms are lean but strong, because pulling wires is no easy feat. Pianoman loves the feeling of you in his embrace, and he equally loves burying his head into the crook of your neck, because it allows him to relax from all the stress he has recently

-He is a craftsman that can make the most realistic supernotes in all of Yokohama, so I guarantee that he's really great at making artistic creations. Pianoman will always handmake your gifts; whether it's an expensive-looking necklace or a fancy bookmark for your everyday use. If you do the same for his gifts too, be prepared to receive affection x10 for the rest of your life :)

Albatross:

-Albatross has probably seen trends of the princess treatment; and when you ask him for him to treat you like that? He'll gladly do it!

-Okay, but he's lowkey adorable when he's giving you the princess treatment. Even though he's like a golden retriever that wants to shower you with hugs and kisses, Albatross is mindful of your boundaries and will only initiate skin-to-skin contact if you were comfortable with it

-But if you love physical affection, then he's over the moon. He'll plant kisses on your cheeks, your lips, your hands; just anywhere that you want him to, really. Albatross knows that he has an image to maintain in public, but he gets really handsy in private. Hugs and cuddles are something you will never be short of, and they're so full of love that you always melt inside when you receive them

-I feel like Albatross is also the type to like play-wrestling with you. He always does it gently, because he never wants to see you hurt; but he does love to tickle you until you're laughing all over. Is also the type of person to pick you up and spin you around sometimes, and place you back down lightly afterwards

-Ah, and don't forget; vehicles of any kind are his forte. Which means that you don't have to worry about transportation anymore, because he'll always arrange it for you (yes, including the way back). And he doesn't just use random cars, oh no. Albatross will make sure that those cars will be high-end and ✨PRISTINE✨. I'm talking about Porsches and Lamborghinis whom are clean and decorated to your very own liking, with interiors so fancy that it could make even celebrities jealous. But your beloved only does it for his princess that deserves the world, which is you 💓

-But if you don't like cars, then that's perfectly fine! This man has a variety of vehicles you can choose from. You want that hot pink motorbike? Just say the word and it's already yours. Oh, you want to work out by riding a bike? He'll make sure that it's custom made and tailored to your taste. Needless to say, he'll very gladly spoil you with any vehicle that you want

-Your lover will definitely throw pebbles at your window at nighttime... just because he missed you. And then, just like Flynn Rider scaling Rapunzel's tower to meet her, Albatross will literally climb in through the window and embrace you in his arms. Sometimes he'll even take you out for a lovely drive in Yokohama, letting you admire the beautiful sights of the city underneath the moon's glow

-But in the calmer moments, Albatross will definitely check up on you and ask you how you were doing. He wants to make sure that you're physically, mentally, and emotionally fine, and that you can tell him all of your troubles. Despite being the talkative and energetic type, he's surprisingly a very good listener; and will definitely comfort you if you were feeling down. Afterwards, he'll do something to lift your spirits up, whether it be cracking jokes and funny stories or bringing you out to places that you liked. He loves seeing you smile, and will do anything to keep you smiling that happy smile

-He'll definitely introduce you to his friends, because he believes that friendships are still important when you're in a relationship. Albatross puts complete trust in you, and he is glad if you get along with his friends too. However, you do notice that he pulls you closer to him when he talks with any of his female friends, clearly signalling that you are the only one he loves

-However, please please PLEASE don't ask him to cook. Now, he is a sweetheart and will gladly cook any meal you like, but it is easier said than done when his cooking skills are on par with my ability to sleep at night (which is bad). If you want, you can teach him how to cook, but you've gotta have a lot of patience for him. Don't worry though, because he can still make instant food taste like heaven for you

-Always is respectful of your interests and preferences. He even encourages you to pursue your hobbies, and never once judges you for what you do or say. Albatross can and will defend you from everyone who thinks otherwise, because to him, those things are what makes you you <3

Doc:

-Doc, upon hearing about this 'princess treatment', is slightly confused. Was he not treating you right in the relationship? But his insecurities quickly dispel when you just explain to him that his best was already enough for you

-He doesn't realise it, but it is noticeable how he is much more gentle, sweet, and affectionate with you than with anyone else. Despite not being as physically strong as the other members of the Flags, he still possesses more strength and knowledge than the average person- and it is due to the fear of hurting you with those attributes that he treats you like his queen

-Definitely has acts of service as one of his main love languages. Doc, ironically, does not about his own health that much. But when it comes to you? You'll find yourself being taken care of so thoroughly that you won't be getting sick or injured anytime soon. He makes sure that you eat nutritious meals three times a day, alongside hydrated and wearing enough clothing for the weather; as well as reminding you to take breaks and getting enough good-quality sleep. Needless to say, Doc always prioritises and puts your needs before his, even in urgent situations

-He loves spending time with you. Doc doesn't want you to feel lonely, and whenever he gets to be by your side, he'll listen to whatever you want to say or do. His full attention is on you, and he will engage in any conversation you initiate, with no sign of his mind wandering off elsewhere even if it was the most frivolous subject that the two of you were talking about

-Oh, but if you liked to be alone sometimes, he is perfectly happy to give you time to yourself. Even though he just wants to be with you at all times, Doc is 100% mindful of your boundaries and respects them. He himself has quite a few boundaries set too, so it is perfectly natural that he abides by yours too

-Now he isn't too physically affectionate, but he is perfectly happy to hold your hand when you take walks with him. He always walks by the curb. No questions asked. You're his queen, and it is only right that you shall be treated as such, even on the littlest and most common of things. Doc wouldn't want to risk even the slightest chance of you getting hurt

-But when you actually do get hurt, this is when he gives you the princess treatment of your life. Firstly, Doc will make sure that you're not in any sort of pain or discomfort while he treats your injuries- he'll even let you squeeze his shoulder as hard as you want if it meant that it relieves the pain. He will work quickly but efficiently; your wound would be cleaned and wrapped up in a bandage before you can say 'Open Sesame'. Afterwards, expect him to do EVERYTHING while you rest and recuperate. Even if your injuries weren't serious, Doc is still going to take over all of your chores while checking up on you whenever he could, because he just wants you to be fully healthy again

-I feel like Doc is the type to get you all sorts of gifts, ranging from books about medical science to different accessories that you could wear everyday. He wants the gifts to be meaningful- so whenever you saw them or used them, you would think of him. And he always manages to make it a surprise; you could never guess what he's going to gift you next. The delighted look on your face when you find another one of his small presents is enough to make him happy for the rest of his days

Iceman:

-Honestly, this man will treat you however you'd like him to treat you (only if it was reasonable). So if you wanted princess treatment from him, he'll happily comply. You deserve to be treated like a princess, anyways

-Iceman is a calm individual with few words to say, which means that he'll mostly listen to whatever you decide to talk about. Same as Doc, he is an excellent listener, and he will remember everything that you mention to him. You could tell him all of your friends' birthdays, and he'll remind you about it when you forget, because his full attention is always focused on you

-Gives you his coat when you feel cold. Even if it means that he'll be the one exposed to the freezing weather, he still gives it to you because he'd rather be the one affected instead of you. Also starts carrying around a spare coat the next time you go out with him, because you insisted that he shouldn't be the one suffering for you, even though he assures you that he doesn't mind it

-Iceman is so observant it's almost scary. If he sees your gaze lingering even a millisecond longer than usual on a particular object, he'll note it down and buy it for you as a gift, even if you've already forgotten about the item you saw. He's also attentive to the slightest sign of discomfort from you. It's too loud? He'll quickly move you to a quieter place. You want to ask for more water but you're too nervous to? He will consult the waiter for you. Someone is making you feel uneasy in public? Your partner will put his arm around your waist in a comforting manner, while keeping an eye on that person to see if they'd dare try anything brash

-He strikes me as the type to like taking pictures of you whenever the two of you do something together. It doesn't have to be a special moment- you could just be tending to a flower, and Iceman would take out a camera to snap a photo of you (with your consent of course). He wants to keep them so he could look back on the memories, and smile as he reminisces those times. Don't worry about him ruining any shot, because he is a pro at photographing, and would gladly take as many pictures of you as you want

-Brewing drinks for you is a must!!! Whether you are a coffee lover like him or not, Iceman will make your favourite drink for you everyday- and they taste even better than the ones you find in cafes. He makes them perfectly, and if you ask him to teach you? He'll be slow and precise, carefully guiding you through the steps of making the drink. But he actually just wants you to relax and leave all the work to him, because he loves showing his appreciation for you through his actions

-He knows that you can handle yourself in a fight; you're not utterly defenceless, afterall. But Iceman will never hesitate to protect you when you need it, and he doesn't care if he himself gets injured during the process. As long as you're safe, then he's content

-When he sees that you're stressed or tired, Iceman will encourage you to tell him about your worries, while giving you a warm and reassuring embrace. He loves the feeling of you in his arms, and sometimes he'll give you a kiss on the top of your head. Don't be afraid of crying in front of him, because he won't judge- instead, he'll hold you and rub your back comfortingly, and afterwards he will make you your favourite meal to cheer you up

-Princess treatment or not, this man definitely treats you right :)

Lippmann:

-Pretty boy is pretty enough to be a prince in fairy tale stories; and he will definitely be the prince to your princess!

-Lippmann has a silver tongue, and you cannot tell me that he wouldn't be complimenting you and showering you with praise at every single chance he could get. However, he doesn't simply tell you that you're beautiful, because that's boring. Instead, he says 'Your smile, your tears, your laugh; everything about you is as ethereal as the goddess Aphrodite, but not even Aphrodite herself can make me fall as deep in love as you.' And he's smooth about it too. So yeah, be prepared to be flustered quite a lot by this gorgeous gorgeous man

-He will also leave notes in places where you could easily find them. And on each note will be a short phrase about how much he loves you, as well as the words being so sweet and encouraging that it makes you melt as you read them. Lippmann will write new notes everyday, just so that you could constantly be reminded about your beauty and how much he loves you if you were starting to feel insecure about yourself

-It doesn't even stop there. When he's feeling more romantic and daring, he will full-on write a letter with several pages detailing everything about you that he finds to be lovely, and how lucky he was to be called yours. What makes it even better is that each and every word on the letter is genuine (he told me himself)

-We all know that he's rich, which means that he would also want to spend his money on you by buying you whatever you want. Whether it be expensive clothing, jewellery, books, anything really- Lippmann would always buy it for you. You are his lady afterall, and he shall treat you like absolute royalty

-Despite having a lot of money, he'll actually ask for your decision before spending it on you. You want to have dinner at the most expensive restaurant in the world? Sure thing! You just want to have a quiet date at home? That's fine with him too! As long as he gets to spend time with you and make you happy

-However, I feel like Lippmann prefers the calmer, softer moments with you. He's always busy with negotiations and acting and whatnot, which means that he can barely catch a break in his line of work. So even when he likes to spoil you, he loves it when he gets to cuddle you on the couch and make you fall asleep in his arms. He treasures every moment he could get with you

-Now since he is so pretty and famous, he has a lot of admirers and acquaintances vying to get his attention. Lots of women will come up and talk to him, some of them clearly with the intent to seduce him with their charms. But Lippmann will politely fend off their advances, while putting an arm around your waist and pulling you closer towards him. He isn't afraid of straight-up telling them that you're his girlfriend, and he will assure you that he only has eyes for you if you start to feel insecure because of those women

-Lippmann is a fan of gentle touches. Includes but not limited to caressing your hand, stroking your cheek, and rubbing your back. But if you don't like physical affection, he's understanding and respects your preferences. Afterall, your comfort is his number one priority

Chuuya:

-Girl, you got yourself the best man for this

-As we all know, Chuuya is a king, and who the king decides to settle for is often named as his queen. But he doesn't treat you like a queen, no. Royalty is simply too insulting of a word to describe how he treats you

-Instead, he treats you like a GODDESS. A divine deity that was simply too good for him- and was so kind that she let herself be tangled together with an ordinary, sinful man who didn't even deserve to cast his eyes upon such loveliness. Chuuya can and WILL give up everything just for you, because you're the only person that deserves all of him and much, much more

-Being a Mafia executive means that he's rolling in money, and no matter how much you protest that he doesn't have to get you gifts, he'll still spend thousands on high-quality items that he knows you'd like. If you don't know what you want, tell him and he'll choose something for you, and his taste is ✨ IMPECCABLE ✨. He'd love to get you matching couple rings and jewellery even though he thinks the precious stones could never compare to your beauty

-Chuuya is extremely loyal, so rest assured that he'll never leave you for someone else. He'll also introduce you to his friends as his lover, and will still treat you as a goddess in front of them with no shame whatsoever. Loves to show you off to his comrades, but he'll tone it down if you're shy or embarrassed about it

-Asagiri said himself that Chuuya respects women, and he will, without a doubt, respect your boundaries, your likings; everything about you, really. Making you feel heard is very important to him, and he would never judge you for anything you do or prefer. Always maintains eye contact whenever the two of you are talking to each other

-Acts of service king all the way around. When you wake up, breakfast is served on the table and your neatly-folded clothes are placed on the bed. Your lunch? Already packed up and placed carefully into your bag. And when you come home, Chuuya's still doing all the chores, no questions asked. However, if you beg hard enough to share some of the load, he'll be willing to compromise (he's still doing most of the chores though)

-But when he sees you tired after a long day of work? Get yourself ready, because this man will pamper you so much that you wouldn't have to lift a finger. Not only will he have finished all of the housework, he'll also prepare a warm rose bath full of candles and scents for you. Then, as he'll present to you an amazing gift that you’ve been wanting for a while, and as you're busy admiring the gift, Chuuya would pour some exquisite wine into a glass for you to savour while you’re in the bath. With enough persuasion, he'll join you in the bathtub, but he is perfectly happy to just massage your shoulders as you relax, while talking about your day. Sometimes, he'll even plant a few kisses on the top of your head, while murmuring how much he loves you

-Would take you flying with his ability. If you're afraid of heights, Chuuya will make sure that he doesn't take you too far off the ground, and you'll find yourself being held a protective embrace as you rise off the ground. Sometimes, if you're feeling up to it, he will twirl you around in a romantic waltz, with the pretty sights of Yokohama serving witness to the love you bore for each other

-Not only is he your king, he also is your protector. If he sees people spreading rumours about you behind your back, or straight-up creeping you out, he wouldn't hesitate to stand up for you and send them a friendly warning with a few words. Nobody gets to badmouth his lover and expect to get away with it

-Always remembers your birthday, and will make it a time that you'll never forget. Needless to say, you're going to be spoiled a lot because it's your special day! You could ask for whatever you want, and Chuuya would buy it for you- if it was reasonable. Takes you to do different things on every birthday, and will even rent out an entire private island for you. I'm not joking when I said that he'll buy you everything you ask for

-It'll be a bonus if you spoil him as well, but he's content with pampering you. If you're happy, then he's happy I love him so much owuajsjdhha

-Chuuya is surprisingly pretty touchy in private. He loves to put his arms around your waist, pulling you close and whispering sweet nothings with his deep, smooth voice. This man also is a fan of planting delicate kisses over your neck, collarbones, wrists- anywhere you like to be kissed, really. His kisses would be light, as he's afraid of hurting you, but he wouldn't mind indulging you if you liked it rough

-Will always return your texts and calls within a few minutes of you sending it. Even if he's busy, he's never too busy to make time for you, and he will apologise if he comes home later than usual. You assure him that it's fine, but he will try his best to finish his work on time so that he could be by your side for longer

-He keeps his promises to you without fail, since he would hate to let you down. At the end of the day, a queen reigns with her king, and Chuuya promises that he shall never stop treating you as his goddess

Ayatsuji:

-'Princess treatment', to this man, was confusing at first. Was it not common sense for him to treat you with respect and love? In his eyes, women should always be treated like queens in a relationship. The fact that this was outlined as 'princess treatment' honestly made him disappointed with most men in today's society

-But he will definitely treat you well! Despite his bluntness and tendency to mock/tease people, he's a lot more soft and kind-spoken with you; a side that he only shows to those he deems worthy of his trust

-Now Ayatsuji does things a bit differently. Sure, he can still hold open doors for you and give you his coat when you're feeling cold, but he tends to treat you like a princess in his own unique way. Such as letting you take the initiative in anything that you want to do with him, and always accompanying you whenever you were going out to do something. His main love language is quality time, and he will ensure that all time spent with you is made to be worth your while

-He definitely will handmake dolls for you. If you liked any particular character in a book or anime, Ayatsuji will model the doll off of that persona, and it ends up being so perfectly alike that it could be sold as official merch. If you want, he'll even teach you how to create beautiful dolls from scratch

-Your partner gives you gifts from time to time, but they aren't generic presents that guys buy for their girlfriends. Instead, he puts thought and careful consideration into each of your gifts, deducing if it could be used in your daily life. And now whenever you use the pen he gifted you, or wear the coat that was your birthday present, you think of him

-Ayatsuji is also the type to buy matching rings for the both of you. He hides his beneath his glove in the daytime, because he doesn't need anybody questioning him about it. But as soon as he returns home to you, he'll take his glove off with his mouth, bringing your hand up to his lips and planting a kiss on the ring that is a reflection of his love for you

-He holds you in very high regard, and this can be mostly seen in the way he speaks to you. While he is cold and emotionless towards others, Ayatsuji is considerate and attentive as he conversates with you, always listening to what you have to say first before adding in his own ideas and opinions. A queen commands respect, and there is no doubt that Ayatsuji gives all of his to you

-Surprisingly good at comforting you. Your lover has a kind heart within him, and he does not hesitate to use it when he sees that you're down in the dumps. He chooses his words carefully, and he actually has more empathy than he lets on. In just a few moments, he'd already have helped you express your emotions, and offered you advice that makes you feel better about the situation you were upset about. Also doesn't mind if you simply wanted him to hold you- he'll hold you for as long as you desire if it meant that you'd feel better afterwards

-Does not even look at the other females that come his way, but anybody would know at first glance that you're his partner because of how he treats you compared to everyone else. Tsujimura is just a colleague to him, and everyone else are mere acquaintances. None of them can even come close to replacing you

-Ayatsuji may have his oddities at times, but just know that you'll always be a princess in his eyes 💝

I feel like this kinda veered off to boyfriend headcanons... but I hope that you enjoyed it :D

@circinuus @riiwrites @sariel626 @chocsra @ruanais @yuugen-benni @angolicious

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oldwritingm · 1 year ago

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Good Morning/Evening!!

Could I request Dating Cole Brookstone Headcanons?

I see you are a person of fine taste, my friend!! It would be my pleasure to fulfill this request!

Ninjago - Dating Cole Brookstone Headcanons

I see him as a natural romantic

Like, he doesn’t even have to try

He just does stuff and it’s so perfect

Like, he’ll thoughtlessly pull you into a slow dance when his favorite song comes on

(Side note: he LOVES to dance with you)

Or he’ll “surprise” you with a fancy restaurant reservation and flowers (he really just forgot to tell you earlier and got the flowers because they reminded him of you)

Or he’ll spout the most heartfelt compliments at random moments

“You really are the most beautiful person ever.”

“…I’m just scrolling on my phone though? In my unwashed pjs???”

All this without even specifically trying to be romantic

He’s just being himself

His favorite kind of date is to go out to dinner

He likes trying new things with you, so one of you will pick an obscure restaurant to try out each time

Whether it’s palatable or not, you always have a good time anyway

If the food sucks, you bond over the horrible experience

“Wow. That was horrible.”

“Ugh, I know. Was that rice or shredded tire rubber?”

“Honestly, the latter would’ve tasted better.”

“Pfff—”

Talking over a table with the din of restaurant ambience is like your guys’ own love language

You’ll talk about anything and everything

Light topics, dark topics, deep topics, whatever comes to mind

He’s a really deep and reflective person, so your deep conversations are often the most meaningful

He’s also absolutely hilarious though, so joking around is a very close second

Speaking of, his love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

As mentioned before, he’s a natural at giving compliments

But he also uses the L word quite liberally

Definitely the first to say “I love you”

He loves cuddling

He’s a big guy, so you already know he’s optimally huggable

Doesn’t mind what cuddling position; he just likes to be close to you

If he had to pick a favorite, though, he likes to lay on your chest and listen to your heartbeat

Whenever he has to go away on a mission, he gives you the biggest bear hug

He’ll lift you off your feet, squishing your faces together and peppering your cheek with kisses

The hug he gives you when he gets back isn’t quite so energetic, but it’s no less romantic

He’ll lean on you a little more, relaxing his form to fit against yours perfectly as he lets out a long sigh

He’ll rub your back absentmindedly while he murmurs how much he missed you

Those are some of his best hugs, but he also frequently just lifts you up in a quick two-second hug, sometimes even from behind

“Ack! Cole, put me down!”

“Ha, sorry babe. You’re just so darn lovable, how am I supposed to not hug you?”

“Don’t apologize; I just want to hug you back!”

Also big on touching

Not necessarily PDA (but he won’t object if you like that), just maintaining physical contact

Hand holding, an arm around your shoulder, pinky-locking, anything really

Even if it’s just touching shoulders

Likes to get creative with cute nicknames as well

His go-tos are babe, baby, sweetheart, and angel face/cakes

But you’ve also heard pumpkin, muffin, munchkin, gorgeous, sugar, teddy bear, cuddle monster, etc…

Plus some… interesting… original ones

“Hello, my lovely little dragon snackie!”

“Cole. I love you but what was that.”

He will ascend to the heavens if you give him literally any affectionate nickname

Gives you the biggest grin whenever you use it

Honestly he smiles whenever you say his name, but cute nicknames will really get him

I hope this was alright! Thank you for this splendid request, and thank you for reading! Take care you cultured folks <33

#ninjago #ninjago x reader #ninjago headcanons #cole brookstone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader

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doukeshi-kun · 7 months ago

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🎭🚬 nonnie here! Thank you so much for the support Keshi!! I'm really honoured🥺🤍🤍

Anyways I made a small Relationship Headcanon to fresh up and see what's it like to be in a relationship with him (⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)

warnings: a little ooc. generally fluff and angst if you squint

AYATSUJI RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Ayatsuji is considered someone who tries dating in order to satisfy his curiousity in the systems of relationships. He's already content with the companies of his dolls, claiming they are more amusing than a real person, but we know this man truly craves for someone to be there with him through thick and thin.

‌He's happy to be with someone who likes his interests and hobbies, especially if they want to take into it as well

‌I can imagine cafe, museum, or library dates>>>

‌He isn't really into PDA or maybe he's just generally shy about it, but if you are offering him a hug, he'll jump right in for the opportunity (but not that directly yk)

‌He's a big tease in private tho, he will suddenly tickle you haha he really loves your smile :((

‌He would definitely date a person who would initiate physical affection because he's so damn shy about it and it's also because he was never given proper love since he was a child huhu

‌He'll bury his face in your neck or chest, he really wants be buried in your warmth <3

Of course, he loves, loves, loves, LOVES giving you neck kisses too

‌Speaking of physical affection, I know he's the type to take of his hat before leaning in to kiss you, ESPECIALLY he would use his hat to cover both of your faces in public when wants to smooch (this is best of the most giddiest gesture this man can do)

‌He knows he's beautiful and you mostly can't deny him for everything, so if wants your attention, he'll shoot you a small pout and give you puppy eyes (this guy pouts a lot in the manga and fanmade comics I swear)

‌slow dancing together..... *drools*

‌calls you in names like: doll/darling/dollface

‌Doesn't men who have pet cats or are cat lovers are always the cuntiest? *Coughs and looks at Fukuzawa as well*

‌His main love language is gift giving. We know he's not so openly expressive but if taken a liking to something, he'll definitely buy it for you or he would just suddenly give you a cat loaf pillow and say something like; "I saw it outside a shop and it reminds me of you."

‌Doesn't this go without a saying how he'll buy you anything to doll you up? It's he's more than just happy if you let him be his dolly (aww)

‌He'll probably not tell you anytime soon, but this man would make a bunch of dolls of both you in different outfits and it's all probably made to recreate what you wore in your outdoor dates together skshdkskl

do I have to mention that he would also make one of both of you together with his beloved two cats as a testament of your bond with them?

He's OBSESSED with letting you scatter your things in his apartment or office, it makes him feel comfortable or assured in his own place since there's a sniper pointed in his head almost 24/7

It's the when he would buy the same perfume you frequently wear and he would spray on himself or on his duvet because he wants be reminded of you all the time.

that's all I can think of for now, have a wonderful day(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

i love all of these! definitely something yukito would do with his lover. though, i feel like since he's a very big tease in private, he isn't so shy about initiating affectionate gestures. but probably he does feel slightly embarrassed if he were to do it in front of other people—like ango or tsujimura, cough cough professionalism cough

they're all cute 🩶 we love ayatsuji yukito in this house <3

#道化師-says❃ུ۪ #道化師-🎭🚬❃ུ۪ #道化師-jest❃ུ۪ #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd imagines #bsd ayatsuji x reader #bsd ayatsuji #ayatsuji yukito x reader #ayatsuji headcanons #ayatsuji x reader

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treviso-nights · 2 months ago

Text

how far art thou fallen from heaven — a multichapter solrook tale

rating: M ch.1 word count: 1.3k summary: rook ends up in the regret-prison with solas after a nightmare. he taunts her, and she responds in kind, but worse. one way or another, solas is going to realize: varric chose rook to stop him for a reason. (ch.1 of my new obsession. will update description + tags as I proceed)

A/N: for my moot, @dirthavhen but also for me and the rest of us on this journey bc what the shit 😭

read on AO3

The first time Rook has a nightmare is not the last.

But it is the first time Solas has ever gazed at her without the searing contempt so heavy in every expression he's ever made in her direction.

Rook, gasping, presses a trembling hand to her face. At once, her circumstances are a little clearer—the fuzzy, ever-shifting texture of the magical atmosphere minutely less alarming.

Her next breath is a ghost, and she does not know the name or the color of it, precisely, but she is content to see it go. "Solas? Am I dreaming?"

Irritation blooms across his face, its petals unfurling at the corners of his eyes, nose, and mouth. "You were dreaming," he declared. "Or, rather, you were having a nightmare. Truth be told, it was a little incomprehensible, even to myself."

"A nightmare?" she echoes. Despite her Crow training, Rook is too slow to banish the disorientation churning at the forefront of her conscious mind. She is even slower to mask the lingering confusion slackening her features, though when she does realize this nakedness, her mouth twists angrily.

Her next words are a snarl. "You were spying on my dreams?"

And even from across the divide of his prison, Rook can see the exact moment Solas scoffs by the curious way his throat bobs above his robe's collar. "I did no such thing," he refutes. "Must I always need to remind you of our connection every time you cannot discern why it is present?"

The Fade around them curdles at the word 'connection '. Or, maybe, it’s just Rook, the very word a poison dagger she wishes to remove from her mouth and throw into the Dread Wolf’s heart.

Or his cock.

if he has one.

Because how is she supposed to know he really does?

“Fine,” she spits, scanning their surroundings with almond eyes. Each iris flashes silver in the Fade, their icy hue tempered only by the rings of pine-green around the pupils. “Then how did I end up here?” With you, is the true accusation, sounding off around her in the cannon-fire of their uneasy truce.

The subsequent twitch of Solas's mouth lets Rook know that she’s already lost the round.

“I imagine, in your distress,” he begins, folding both hands behind him, “Your psyche retreated from the chaos and by instinct, migrated to another, more familiar location in the Fade—this one, in fact, by virtue of the blood magic linking us together.”

Several of lilac-colored curls rips free of Rook’s braid, their ends thrashing against her still-pallid complexion.

“In other words,” Solas says, his next smile a mockery of the affable, polite mask he usually favors, “You came to me.”

Rook swears. Colorfully.

Normally, the Crow would not reveal this much of herself to an enemy, but she is tired, and shaken, and the nightmare—nebulous as it now is—continues to catch on all the sharpened edges of her. For a moment, Rook cannot even bear to look at the mage because she does not want to see the hoisted banner of his undeniable victory dance in the Fade’s ambient wind.

But, as always, the Dread Wolf waits for her. It is not until she reluctantly brings her gaze back to him that he asks, “Out of an unadulterated—if not ill-informed—curiosity, what were you dreaming about?”

Rook has no intention to answer, of course. Nor does she find it amusing to watch him tilt his head as if he were a coy lover, exposing a long, unblemished span of neck which would be so, so easy to pierce—

“—There was something about… a hand?” he muses, gray-violet eyes turning to the softly roiling sky. “And… a door?”

This time, Rook does not allow Solas to see how this rips through her like a killing blow. She does not permit a single muscle to breathe or expand inside her body. She obscures this—all of it. The way her blood turns to acid, the way her chest implodes, the way cold sweat gurgles on the back of her neck.

No, not this. She will never give him this.

It is only through sheer willpower that she is able to stay atop her feet. But she does. Rook’s answering smirk, a cruel, little thing, is suddenly an antidote to the nausea flowing in her gut. Solas, recognizing an obvious preclude before an attack, stiffens in response.

“I don’t know, Solas,” Rook replies, casually flicking her long braid over a shoulder. “Dreams sure are strange, huh? I wonder what you dream about, which failure hits you the hardest, though there’s already so many of them. I mean, keeping count at your old, decrepit age, right?”

When he doesn’t answer, Rook’s smirk grows teeth, and she taps a forefinger to her chin, deliberating. “Oh, oh! let me guess. Are your dreams about… your homeland? Not the Fade, I mean. But you know! The homeland that the very ancient, very dead elves built after you tranquil’d and destroyed the titans.”

To the untrained eye, one could so easily miss the tightening of the Dread Wolf’s shoulders, straining as he undoubtedly squeezes his palms together behind him.

“No?” Rook prompts. She begins to pace, walking toe-to-heel on her side of the regret-prison. “Hm… what about Felassan? Your sexy, also-ancient, also-dead best friend that you murdered in cold blood?”

Rook snickers.

“Creators, what a fucking waste. If I was stuck in here with him, he and I would be doing a lot more than talking if you know what I mean. ”

Peeking from a peripheral, Rook watches Solas grit his teeth.

“I’m still off, aren’t I?”

Because if he is going to remain in her head, Rook had already decided long ago that the burden of his magical fumbling would weigh entirely upon him—as is only fitting for the elven god of lies, trickery, and deceit.

“I guess, if I was absolutely forced to keep guessing,” Rook chuckles, “I would bet my mortal, worthless life that your dreams are actually about her.”

The abrupt, almost violent, dilation of Solas's pupils tips her off.

Bingo.

“Tell me Solas: how did Mythal’s body feel in your arms after personally snuffing out what little, withered life remained from her first death?”

“Enough,” the Dread Wolf hisses. Drawing himself up to his full height, Solas nearly vibrates with rage, the pale violet in his eyes blown black with fury. “I take your point. I see now that nothing more can be gained from such fruitless, idiotic banter. Forgive me, mortal, for having tried.”

Now that the cut had landed where she’d aimed, Rook stows her grin away, the transition in expressions almost jarring.

“Stay out of my past, and I’ll stay out of yours,” she promises, though she can’t help the slight tilt to her head at that.

“Well… maybe. I am a liar and an assassin by trade.”

“And I the bane of all your worldly nightmares, I suppose?”

“Not all,” Rook says, and she means it. Their gazes—pale lavender and ice-green—clash.

After another moment’s deliberation, Solas sighs, inclining his head in agreement. “So be it. I might wish you fairer dreams, but I am not in the habit of doing so, and I see no reason to begin now.”

“Alas, I might wish you a better… prison, but I just don’t.”

At that, Solas smirks. “You should be able to wake more easily now that you are here. Simply think of the Lighthouse, and you will find yourself awakening within a matter of moments.”

Rook nods, a small, reluctant gesture.

“Good luck, Rook,” Solas says, hands again folding behind his back. “You will need it.”

And perhaps it is her imagination, but Rook trusts that it is not—that the bare, writhing malice within his eyes is real, and that that malice is a living, eager serpent preparing itself to strike.

#dreadrook #solrook #rook x solas #moot u have almost single-handedly encouraged my quiet spiral i hope u know this #but im WITH u #rook #solas #veilguard #datv #dragon age the veilguard #dav #mine #writing #my writing #ignore errors i wrote this very hastily and was too excited

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fizzigigsimmer · 5 months ago

Text

Moonwood : Part 7

| PART ONE |

Billy comes down off his perch on the stump and his boots land heavy in the dirt. It’s impossible but it kinda feels like the ground shakes a little with his steps as he walks toward Steve. The crowd parts for him, dozens of eyes watching them hungrily, until Billy stops just in front of him. Looming.There is no other word for it. Billy casts a long shadow over him. His broad shoulders completely block out the firelight and Steve’s view of everything beyond them. That shouldn’t be hot. But it is. Like, Steve has never been this much shorter than a partner before or wanted to feel like they could just obliterate him without much effort. Maybe Billy being his soulmate has broken Steve’s brain a little.

Wordlessly Billy makes a gesture for Steve to follow and begins to walk away. Steve locks eyes briefly for a moment with Sasha who flashes him a tooth filled grin. It feels a little threatening somehow, but it might just be the way the firelight gleams in her eyes. Steve shrugs off the uneasy feeling, swallows back his fears and follows after Billy with his head high.

Billy leads Steve down a small crooked path, away from the fire pit and the crowd of young people around the chopped off tree, toward a line of naked looking ones strung with lanterns. Beyond them the forest thickens into a shroud of darkness, reminding Steve that despite the festival vibes, that these are wild woods. Danger lies inside them from bears and wolves… and maybe something worse than either of those.

He shivers a little, and then flicks a nervous glance toward Billy but Billy’s face is an icy mask of indifference as he walks with his shoulders squared and a wide swinging gate, like he’s used to wearing a tool belt around his waist. Maybe he is, Steve’s unhelpful mind happily supplies him with a vivid picture of Billy bare chested, in nothing but a holy pair of blue jeans and a utility belt and his mouth actually waters.

"Aren’t you worried about where I’m taking you?" Billy asks abruptly in a low, growly tone, and Steve jerks. The faint light from the lanterns casts dancing shadows over Billy’s features as his eyes bore into Steve. All around them the trees rustle in the night breeze - they sound like whispers.

"No," Steve shoots back defiantly, cocking an incredulous eyebrow. “I mean should I be? Everybody saw us leave together. If you murder me it’ll be the easiest case in the world to solve.”

Billy huffs. His lip curls in dissatisfaction. His laugh is a low rumble in his chest, more felt than heard.

"Murder is not on the menu tonight, Harrington." He leans closer, and the faint hint of his earthy, musky cologne makes Steve's heart pound just a bit faster. “But maybe something else is,” he adds, his voice dropping to something sultry and low.

Steve feels a thrill shoot up his spine. It’s not fear—no, definitely not fear—even if it should be. He realizes suddenly that this is the closest he and Billy have ever been. There’s always been at least a school desk if not more between them, but now Billy is close enough that Steve can count each of his eyelashes - and fuck they’re long. Hargrove keeps staring at him and licking his teeth like he’s looking at dinner, and it gives Steve goosebumps. Because he knows what came after ‘my what big teeth you have’.

The woods around them feel alive, and there is something about being this close to Billy that makes Steve’s blood sing. He tries to remind himself all of the valid reasons he has to be pissed with Billy, and why he should be a lot more weirded out by how horny he is for the guy, but he just can’t muster it. The air is crisp, filled with the tang of pine and the distant scent of sea spray from the coast. And Steve wants answers.

“I’m not scared of you,” he says again, his voice steadier than he feels. There's an edge to it now, a challenge that Billy hears and he looks at Steve for a long moment and then smiles—a slow, dangerous curve of his lips.

“That right?” Billy muses, stepping back to appraise him. His gaze travels over Steve slowly, stripping him, and Steve tries not to squirm.”We could really test that theory and leave the circle.”

The words linger in the air between them and Steve’s breath catches. He stands taller, shoulders back, meeting Billy’s intense stare head-on.

“You’re talking about the lanterns right?” he replies with a spark of defiance. Billy licks his lips, his smile growing wider. His teeth look bigger somehow, and Steve wants to believe it’s just because of how much closer they’re standing but he doesn’t think that’s it.

“Yep,” Billy says softly. “I dare you to go beyond this circle of lanterns.” He gestures around them where small lights glimmer faintly like stars fallen to earth, encircling them in a protective halo of light laced with wolfsbane— the herb Steve’s mom had said weakend a werewolf's strength.

She said it was for humans. Presumably it’s what is keeping Billy and the other Moonwood folks from wolfing out on their neighbors. Despite his initial trepidation, Steve does feel safe here. But beyond this circle anything could happen.

“You can stay if you want. We can go back to how it was, you minding your place and me minding mine.” Billy says, like he read Steve’s mind. “But past these lanterns, I’m not just a guy from school anymore.”

“Is that who you are?” Steve blurts before he can stop himself. “Just a guy from school?”

“You want to know who I am? Is that it?” Billy asks and Steve swallows hard but nods slowly.

He knows what Billy is offering—more like threatening—is no small thing. To step outside the light means stepping into Billy’s world fully and it’s a dangerous world.

Steve can’t help but feel very small in it. He hesitates, his heart hammering against his ribs like a frantic drumbeat. Billy sees it and the light dims in his eyes, his lip curling.

“Not so brave now, are you?” He scoffs, muttering how Steve should be scared, because it’s crazy to knowingly leave safety and walk into the dark with a werewolf; but Steve thinks he looks disappointed - like maybe there was a part of him that had hoped Steve was crazy.

Taking a deep breath, Steve steps forward—one step closer to Billy and one step away from the ring of safety provided by the lanterns.

“Okay,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper but determined. “But if I do, you have to answer a question.”

“That’s it? One measly little question?” Billy asks and Steve adds.

“And you have to answer it honestly.”

Billy’s lips curve into a half-smile, a hint of victory mixed with something else—perhaps respect—flickering in his eyes. Steve gets the feeling that Billy already knows what he’s going to ask, that maybe all of this was some kind of attempt at scaring him off. But it’s not working, and Billy didn’t expect that.

The night seems to hold its breath as he nods slowly, his gaze never breaking from Steve's. "Deal," Billy finally murmurs.

With a deep breath to steel his nerves, Steve walks under the protective circle of lanterns and into the darkness where the shadows sway. He could always find his way around pretty well in the dark, but under the thick canopy it’s too black for Steve to see much of anything.

But Billy doesn’t seem to have the same worries, and puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder to guide him. Steve jolts a little at the touch and the fission of heat it sends down his spine but says nothing. Their feet crunch on fallen leaves and crickets chirp all around them. As they venture deeper into the forest, the canopy above thickens, weaving a tapestry of darkness and scattered starlight.

Finally they reach another break in the trees. Ahead, standing in a small circle of bare earth and illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, stands an ancient tree—towering, its branches gnarled and bare. The trunk is wide, twisted and old, its paper thin bark marked with carved symbols that Steve can barely make out in the dark. Hanging from the limbs are strands of feathers and beads; they sway gently in the night breeze, making soft clinking sounds.

“Whoa.” Steve steps closer to the tree, fascinated by it. He knows somehow that the tree is magic. There is something about it that draws him, pulls at him like gravity. Somewhere in the darkness a voice whispers and he turns his head sharply to try and catch them. It sounds like a woman he thinks… but it also sounds like wind, and either way it’s not as important as what’s in front of him. The tree calls to him.

His fingers stretch out, yearning to trace the grooves of the carvings, but just as his fingertips are about to brush against the bark, Billy’s hand snaps out and catches his wrist.

“Don’t,” he says, sharp and urgent in a way that makes Steve’s blood go cold.

“What? Why?”

“That’s witch magic!” Billy answers, his grip on Steve’s wrist tight as he pulls Steve back, easy as pulling a child. “It’s left over from the war, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t working. Why do you think nothing’s growing around it? Don’t you know anything?”

“About witches? Of course not!” Steve tries to protest only for Billy to shout over him, grip so tight now that Steve feels the bones twist in his wrist.

“I know you can’t feel it, but Christ Harrington can’t you see it? Open your eyes!” Billy practically screams. Steve wants to tell him that he had felt something, that was the entire reason he’d tried to touch it in the first place, but Billy’s too worked up now. Yelling, “you’ve got the survival instincts of fucking baby deer!”

“What is your problem? Dude - let go! It hurts!”

“Oh I’m hurting you? You went into the woods alone with a werewolf Steve, what did you-”

“Stop!” Steve finally pulls his hand free from Billy’s grip, cradling his throbbing wrist and gasping a little at the pain and Billy looks horrified. He pales, reaching for Steve again but falters when Steve flinches away from him.

“Shit. It’s not broken is it?”

“I’m fine!” Steve grits out in defiance, because Billy is looking at him now like he’s tragic, and breakable, and he liked it better when Billy was losing his shit on him for no reason.

“You brought me out here asshole.” He reminds them both. “You literally dared me.”

“It was a test.” Billy confirms, only a touch calmer than before but it’s something.

“A test? For what: to see if I would back down?" Steve sneers to hide the hurt from the thought that Billy Hargrove is probably his soulmate, but obviously doesn’t think he’s good enough. Steve’s soulmate thinks he has to test him for worthiness. He tries hard to drown out the voice that thinks that sounds just about right.

He flexes his hand a few more times to release the tension in it before letting it rest at his side. He looks up at Billy, squaring his shoulders, planting his feet in the dirt, and stares him dead in the eye.

“I’m not going anywhere until you answer whether or not you’re my soulmate.”

Steve feels a chill ripple down his spine—a mix of fear and exhilaration as the words hang between them.

For the longest time, Billy doesn’t answer. And then finally, he does.

“Yes. Why do you think I’ve been going so easy on you?” He says, like he hasn’t been giving Steve hell for two weeks at school, when they’re supposed to be each other's everything. Like he didn’t drag Steve into the woods away from help and scream at him for being stupid, just to test him.

“You’re also a pip. A runt. A half breed.” Billy adds, oblivious to the anger building up inside of Steve. “You should never have been born.”

Steve stumbles back a step. He can’t help it, Billy’s words cut at a deep insecurity he’s carried all his life. His dad never said those words. Not in that exact way, but the sentiment was still felt. He’d regretted marrying Steve’s mother and getting saddled with the disappointment that was the one child her body could stand to give him.

Billy to his credit looks extremely uncomfortable with the words coming out of his mouth.

“Look, that’s not what I think. That’s just what people used to say, alright? And there are a lot who still think that way.”

“Why?” Steve asks, voice cracking thinking - why aren’t I good enough?

“Cause you’re like the size of a gnat.” Billy’s hand gestures over him as if Steve’s five feet and ten inches is miniscule. But when you’re built like Billy Steve supposes maybe it is. “You wouldn’t last three seconds in a territory battle. You can’t shape shift and you don’t have our strength. You bleed like a human and you’re slow to heal. But honestly, the most damning thing is you don’t have soulmates.” Billy finishes helplessly.

Steve sort of gets it now. Why Billy’s elders would say people like him should not be born, if they’re born alone, weak, and without magic. It would sound awful to him… if he hadn’t been born amongst humans. And that’s the limit to Steve’s understanding because he doesn’t for the life of him understand what is supposed to be so terrible about basically being human.

That’s the heart of the issue here isn’t it. Billy is a werewolf and Steve might as well not be. All of this werewolf stuff is alien and terrifying to him, but he’s being pretty open minded about it. So why on earth would he apologize to anyone for being human?

“The only reason your kind exists is because some idiots don’t have enough self respect to wait for their true mate.” Billy yammers on, and Steve finally snaps.

“Hey!” Steve finally snaps, rushing to push Billy with both hands. Billy is taller. Billy is stronger. But he staggers back a step, looking down at his chest in surprise. Steve’s palms tingle where they touched Billy’s bare skin through his open shirt, but he ignores the sensation, too pissed to even be horny anymore. He is seething. It hurts, hearing how lowly Billy thinks of him, but he isn’t going to let anyone talk down about his mother.

“Harrington -” Billy starts, like he means to explain himself but Steve doesn’t want to hear it.

“Don’t talk about my mom. Ever.” he warns, something hot buzzing under his skin and Billy’s pupils widen, silvery light dancing over his irises.

Slowly. Billy smiles.

“Noted. You’ve got some fight in you after all huh pretty boy?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Why not?” Billy challenges immediately. “It’s true. The thing about your mom, maybe not. I don’t know her story. But I know yours. Pretty boy, charmed life, destined to end up behind some boring picket fence in suburbia with your boring little wifey and two point five brats.”

The words sting even though Steve has no idea why they should. He knew Hargrove wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, but he never thought the reason why would be something like the way he was born.

“You don’t know shit about me Hargrove and you just said we’re mates.”

“Yeah!” Billy snaps back, “and that shouldn’t be possible! You don’t have any magic so you should just be some boring little nobody, not my soulmate!”

Steve has never felt total rejection like this. Like he just wants to scream curses at Billy and throw punches until Billy’s face is as bruised as Steve’s feelings; but there’s something about the way Billy says it that holds him back. Anger and disgust would make sense, but that’s not the thread humming through Billy’s words. It’s fear.

But fear of what? He can’t possibly be afraid of Steve can he? But thinking he’d be afraid for Steve is somehow even harder for him to believe.

“Why not ‘your’ soulmate?” Steve asks, because he just can’t leave well enough alone.

Billy’s jaw clenches, eyes flashing in the moonlight. The turmoil in them is more profound than Steve could have imagined the other teen was capable of feeling.

It’s enough to drain all the anger from Steve’s chest and have him trying to hold on. He doesn’t know what is pulling Billy away from him but he’s not giving in to it. Not without a fight.

“You don’t understand,” Billy begins, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then tell me. Tell me what I don’t understand.” Steve pleads.

“There's... there's more at stake. My parents... both sides of my family, they led the clan through the persecution and the witch wars before we settled here. The alpha’s heir is always selected from the same three families, and with my parents being from two of the strongest I was the obvious choice." Billy continues, each word seeming to cost him. "As the heir, everything I do reflects on my parents and the future of the pack, Steve.”

Steve's eyes widen slightly as pieces of the puzzle that is Billy Hargrove fall into place with painful realization.

“So you being top dog at school, and the way everyone treats you like some sort of king, that’s because you’re gonna be the next alpha?”

Billy nods slowly.

“I’ve known it all my life. Been looking forward to finding my mate and not being alone in it.” Billy adds, his voice roughening to a growl with emotion. “But with you…” His words trail off as if he’s afraid to finish the sentence.

“With me what?” Steve pushes bitterly, not willing to let him hide. “With me everyone will pity you, while you’re stuck carrying dead weight?”

Billy frowns. Shakes his head hard and snaps his teeth together with a click before grunting, “No. I didn’t say that!”

“You’re not saying much of anything! Except that humans are weak and I’m basically human so -”

“So what, you want me to say sorry?” Billy interjects with a snarl of frustration. “Sorry I offended your delicate sensibilities pointing out how frail humans are, but it won’t change shit. You get with me and there will be a target on your back. I can’t lead if I have to worry about protecting you!”

“Then don’t!” Steve shouts, beyond caring anymore that it’s probably not the best idea to get into a shouting match with a werewolf. “Don’t worry about protecting me!”

“I can’t help it, Steve!” Billy shouts right back, throwing his arms wide. “If I could quit it I would, but I think about you every minute of every day and I don’t know how to stop.”

For a moment they’re both frozen, staring at each other with wild eyes. Steve’s heart drums in his chest. Then he’s stepping forward, closing the gap between them. His hands are trembling as he reaches up to cup Billy's face between his hands. Billy’s breath hitches, his eyes locked on Steve, a turbulent sea of emotions swirling within them.

“Steve…” Billy whispers hoarsely, his voice breaking. But when Steve pushes himself up onto his toes he leans in, pressing his lips against Steve’s in a kiss that sears with intensity. It’s as though a dam breaks, days of pent-up longing and desire finally flowing free. And the truth long denied is, Steve has never wanted to fuck someone as badly as he wants to fuck Billy Hargrove.

Steve gasps into the kiss, taken aback by the powerful shock but unable to resist the addictive pleasure of it. Billy’s lips sting his, little electric shocks that send heat through his body and make Steve’s knees weak and his head dizzy. He wraps his arms around Billy's neck and holds on tight, demanding more with his mouth.

The world around them blurs into nothingness as the kiss deepens. Billy slides his hand up Steve's thigh, fingertips ghosting over the bulge in his jeans before resting just above his belt. Two fingers hook in his waistband and Steve moans softly.

Billy devours the sound, claiming Steve’s mouth like he’s trying to swallow him whole; but as the kiss grows more fervent, Steve can feel when Billy starts to change. Beneath his hands, Billy’s body begins to tense unnaturally, the skin rippling like disturbed water. The kiss ends abruptly as Billy groans, his brow creasing in pain.

“Billy?” Steve asks, concerned. Billy shudders.

“I—I have to stop…” he manages between gritted teeth. Billy breaks away suddenly from their embrace and steps back. His body is shaking now—but not just from desire. It’s something else. Something more primal.

“Billy? Billy what’s wrong?”

“I—I don’t know. This isn’t supposed to happen!”

Steve watches in confusion and then alarm as coarse hair begins to sprout along Billy’s forearm where his sleeves are rolled up.

“Holy shit.” He breathes in horrified realization. Because Billy is turning. Billy Hargrove is turning into a werewolf right now, and Steve is all alone. He has one split second to think that maybe things are okay. That just because Billy is turning doesn’t mean he has to be afraid. Billy will still be Billy, and the guy who just kissed him till he was hard in his jeans wasn’t about to turn around and slaughter him.

But then he actually looks at Billy again, sees the way his features have contorted and his eyes glow an unnatural yellow, and every instinct he has says it before Billy can.

“Run,” Billy growls out forcefully, already stumbling back further into the shadows under the trees where the moonlight doesn't reach. “Get back to the circle—now!”

Panic seizes Steve and without wasting another second he turns and runs back the way they came, toward the safety of his pack and the lanterns. Behind him, he hears a low growl dissolve into a long pained howl.

The sound tears at him and in his mind he sees Billy again, hunched over in pain, trying to hold himself together, the fear and apology in his eyes making human what could only be described as beastly. It’s crazy, but he wants to turn around and go back. Do something to ease the pain Billy is in. But another hair raising howl from somewhere behind him pushes him forward. Something tells him it would be a mistake to go back now.

Steve runs like his life depends on it, because it probably does.

Friendly tags for those who have asked in the past:

@darleenjade @sweetwaterangel @dragonflylady77 @natchula @tip-tap-tired @sparklingsprinkles @adelacreations @bluetree76 @deadfromtheneckdown @heavensfinest @marklee-blackmore @slightlydepressedmelon @percabeth-trashcan @a-lovely-craziness