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dungeonpuppykai · 1 month

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Description: When the Winter soldier experiments go wrong on your fiance Crown Prince James Barnes and he ends up crippled and unstable, you call the engagement off and your family proposes that the alliance can still be on if his family pairs you up with his twin brother Nick instead. All seems to be fine and dandy until James breaks out of the lab one night and comes straight for you, razing everyone who stands in his way.

Pairing: Dark!Winter Soldier James Bucky Barnes | Morally Gray Princess!You.

Disclaimer: I do not own James Bucky Barnes, Nick Fowler or any of the MCU characters mentioned (sadly). This story contains dark and mature content. Minors do not interact.

Warnings: Dubcon, morally gray!reader, opportunistic reader, smut with plot, dark!Bucky, angst, winter soldier, exhibitionism, choking, hair pulling, slapping, humiliation, degradation, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected p-in-v, biting, missionary and doggy style, breeding kink, creampie, fear kink, power imbalance, Bucky's metal arm (?), pet names (rosey, baby), Daddy kink, sir kink.

Note: I think this sounds a bit unserious and somewhat goofy aah but this was exactly my idea and I don't think I could have done it any different. Please let me know what you think <3

You rolled your eyes with a scoff at something your now fiance and ex brother-in-law to be, Crown Prince Nick Barnes, said. The night was cool and you had ordered for the lights of the garden that your balcony faced to be turned down. Your silk nightgown that was dark blue in color -Nick's royal color- hung from your shoulders in the most comforting way as the skirt bit of the article swayed with the gentle breeze. You heard Nick's chuckle on the other end of the video call and before you retorted with something edgy because that was just the kind of Princess that you were, you shifted against the railing to make yourself more comfortable while still holding the phone in such a way that he could see you.

His demanding nature was not one you particularly fancied but you supposed that was the kind of liberty that came with being an actual heir. Though you couldn't help but be reminded of how although his brother -the older twin- was a much better crown prince than Nick could ever be and yet he had never made you feel inferior in status by imposing his will on you.

It was impossible for you not to muse on the possibility that if your older sister, The actual Crown Princess of your kingdom, had been chosen by his brother instead of you, Nick would still treat her the same way and if she would put up with having to be subservient.

"All things considered, Your Royal Highness, we are still not having a dozen children" the title never failed to sting your tongue due to how you had never had to use it for your original fiance.

But Nick was just one of those people.

His snort made you want to roll your eyes but you knew better than to disrespect him as the two of you shared a rather formal relationship that was quite terse around the edges. Perhaps, his brother had spoiled you too much. "I always find it amusing that you think you have a choice in–" you were busy watching the stars because you could not bear to look at him when he behaved like this. But then he abruptly changed the topic and you didn't care to express concern by glancing at the screen, "I thought you said you excused your ladies, little one" he did not appreciate being lied to; something he shared with his identical brother.

"I did, Your Excellency" when he sighed in disapproval, you had to avert your eyes from the sky to look down at him on the screen with an air of annoyance about you. "I really–"

"Then who is that behind you?" Nick had also been busy reading away on a tablet as he traveled somewhere -probably back to the Palace- in a vehicle but now he narrowed in on his screen.

Your eyebrows remained flat and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Ha ha, Your Highness, very funny" he had a thing for making silly jokes when he was in an agreeable mood, or at least moving towards one.

"Y/n, I am serious" there was an urgency in his voice as he leaned closer to get a better look. "Turn around right now and tell me who is–"

"You even wear his color now, huh rosey?" Your body took a good few moments to register the voice behind you and you nearly failed to recognize it at first. Though when your brain finally managed to make the association, your heart dropped into your stomach and your blood ran ice cold.

You spun around on your heels so hard they ached, coming face to face with James Barnes; the original Crown Prince and your real fiance. The man who had chosen you over your sister; giving preference to you for once, the brave warrior who had surrendered his body to his country; so they could make the best protector possible out of him, the honorable fool who only wanted to do good; a hero too noble for this wretched world.

Your phone that now blared with Nick's alarmed yells slipped through your numbing fingers but James caught it before it could break against the ground. "What the hell are you doing here?" You harshly whispered as if in a defensive autopilot, overwhelmed by how he had grown three times his size. Your eyes unintentionally traveled to where his arm had gotten mutilated on an expedition and you found a metal one glinting up at you in its stead. Maybe your reaction could be considered foolish in hindsight, but the knowledge that you were utterly at this unstable man's mercy and had nothing to defend yourself with against his monstrous stature terrified you. That in turn caused you to act in the only way you thought was appropriate as you desperately hoped for your facade to affect him in a helpful way.

"Did all those years mean nothing to you, rosey?" His face was covered in stubble and his dark hair was long as it obscured most of his features, deep voice animalistic as his black leather clad form seemed to expand and contract with each heavy breath. Your throat tightened in on itself and your breath hitched. What the hell had they really done to him?

"You shouldn't be here, James" you looked around for your guards– anyone but found the area to be eerily silent. How had you not noticed this ominous shift in your environment before? "That is against the rules as you're endangering the future Queen and many other people" he was all about rules and that was what you had disliked most about him. "Go back" your heart was on the verge of exploding but you pushed on with as much a semblance of composed firmness as you could muster.

Nick's threats and curses melted into the background as James coldly snorted before snatching you by your hair, fingers snaking through a tangle of the strands, the action causing you to wince. It was only when you tried to fight him back and the bustle caused the two of you to inch closer to the lighting of your chambers did his face really come into your view. Your eyes widened in horror as your hand went to clamp over the hold he had on you defensively.

His pale face was covered in blood splatters and his glossy teal eyes seemed to shake, their blown pupils crazed.

"So it was always about the crown then, huh, rosey?" You would never have expected him to sound as hurt and betrayed in this maddened state as he did.

"You know it was" you lied through your teeth to try and get his stance to falter like it always did when you counterattacked to his affectionate advances with hostility; the only thing you had known all your life. "Nothing matters more than the crown" the world functioned on power. So you had always used and abused that you had over him; over his heart.

"I see" except, it didn't seem to budge him much today. Your eyes desperately scanned your dark surroundings again, this time for a weapon albeit still in vain. "In that case, you should be with me, then" your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you whimpered at how his fingers tightened around your neck.

"James!" And then you were getting dragged back into your chambers.

Once he had approached your bed, he placed your phone on the bedside table so a fuming Nick could clearly see whatever was about to unfold.

Your flailing form was yanked back in frame and then held tightly in place by the clasping of his metal hand over the deep neckline of your nightgown. "Because I am all fixed up," your eyes turned to look at him in horror as he chuckled dryly, "and back to take all that's mine" you screamed and hot tears finally rushed down your flushed cheeks when your compressed breasts sprang free in the air upon his tearing a thick valley between the front piece of your gown. James only snickered into the camera while his brother screamed at him to not dare damage what was his amongst other profanities.

But wasn't James simply repossessing what had always belonged to him in the first place?

He had finally corrected himself in the way the world deserved.

Now he would only live for himself like everyone else was.

He was done getting played for a fool by all.

"Please!" Your words fell on deaf ears as the man proceeded to further rip his brother's color off your body furiously until nothing remained in his hold except for your nudity, strong jaw nearly ticking broken due to how it was clenched as he did so.

"Tell me, dear, did you also let him have you?" You were nearly petrified at this point both by shame and fear as he manhandled you onto the bed before crawling over you like a predator and trapping your limbs under his. "And if you dare lie to me then so God help me" his metal hand roughly fondled your breasts as his other hand tightly restrained your limp yet determined wrists above your head.

"S- Stop!" Your back arched and you turned your face away in disgust when he started sniffing you all over like a hungry hound.

"Hm, what about this little pussy of mine down here" a chill ran down your spine at how the crevices of his metal hand felt against your nether lips when he stroked them. "Has she forgotten her Daddy, hm?" He was the stark opposite of the man you had been engaged to and that in addition to how you had last seen him slashing at the lab assistants while speaking a language you did not understand as well as how semi-liquid crimson particles covered his face caused for a wave of pure terror to rush over you. But it was nothing compared to the chilling fact that his body heat and touch -regardless of its fashion- had awakened that one familiar feeling only he could evoke in you.

Nick went silent at James' words and you felt blood rush to your tear stained cheeks.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not the chaste future Queen saving herself for her wedding night and King like the royal protocol demanded.

But in your defense, the then future King, James, himself was the one who had defiled you because you were already his. And you had let him for you could act all high and mighty as you desired in front of him as well as others due to how comfortably open he had always been about his feelings for you hence presenting a very vulnerable perhaps even a subservient part of himself to you on a silver platter, but also because the man knew how to fuck.

You were addicted to how he felt against you and though you had never brought your suspicion to your lips, you had wondered for the entirety of the time your betrothal had changed to Nick whether the younger twin would ever be able to come even close to his brother.

"Would you look at that?" His coo sounded out of place and ominous due to how the pretend softness stood out from the menace of his tone. "It doesn't seem like she has," your fingers instinctively clawed the air to try and take a hold of his hand to deal with the feeling of his bionic digits invading their way between your petals. "She still weeps and blinks up dumbly at me like a stupid slut all the same" horror filled you as you became hyper aware of Nick's eyes on you, and yet your skin began to buzz at the filthy words that still scratched you in that one way regardless of everything. "Rosey…?" It was chilling how he playfully raised an eyebrow like he wasn't covered in blood and flesh of the people that he had torn apart on his way to you, instead giving you a lazy grin as he spread your privates apart with the back of his hand. "Be honest for once and say, you didn't let him touch you, did you?" Your loins sparked to life when the tip of his finger ghosted over your entrance. "I mean, I know how demanding a whore you really are, common ways can't satisfy you and you don't waste your time on lost causes" James bent down to inch his grin closer to peer down at you and you had to turn your eyes away with a clasping shut of your lids. You had been caught. "The crown matters more than anything, huh?" Your eyes further clenched at his taunt and a shiver reverberated through you when his hot tongue darted out to swipe across the tear stains on your cheeks.

He had promised you during your courting period that he would never allow a single tear to fall from your eyes. It seemed so that even in this state, he was determined to keep it. This way or that.

"I- I belong to someone else now." Having always been treated inferior to your sister, you refused to let go of your only chance at power. So jutting your chin out determinedly you refused to look at him and falter in your stead, for you knew it would make you cave as his face was still that of your protector and pursuer.

Because even if a woman had not the slightest preference for her admirer, the mere knowledge that she was fancied earned him a place in her heart still.

"No, you don't" his words were stern and determined. "You were mine and you are mine" his lips trailed their way down to your neck to mark you his while one of his metal fingers penetrated your intimate band of muscles, causing you to bite back a moan as your pussy clenched defensively; hence intensifying the pleasure. "It's not your fault, really. Your little girl brain is too small to remember the difference between me and him for too long since we are identical, huh baby?" You hated how your traitorous hips betrayed you and began to move in sync with his finger. "But you don't have to worry your pretty little head about that, my sweet rosey…" His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your alarmed skin. "I'll just claim you again to remind you" his teeth were sharp and unforgiving against your skin that had faded out the marks of his passion. "And I'll put my heir into that little womb of yours so whenever your tiny mind tries to get too silly again, my child will remind you who you belong to" he refused to acknowledge your protests at that and plopped his fingers out of you just long enough to undo his pants. "Besides," his hard cock easily found its way to your entrance, as always, "isn't procreation one of the duties of the King and the Queen?"

It was then you realized that his transformation had been physical in every sense.

Your eyes widened as your body jolted upwards in shock, lazed out hips now sparking up to life to almost try and get away from the cruel impaler that threatened to intrude it in a manner so devastating that the band feared a ripping of the lining.

James snorted when your pussy refused to accept him and clenched in on itself defensively to shut him out, your petals nearly trembling in fear. "Aw, baby. How cute, you did stay faithful to me after all, huh" shaking his head when you only sobbed in response, he grunted as his huge shoulders moved to attempt an invasion yet again only to be denied. "Tsk, tsk, never learns her lesson, does she?"

"Plea–" your words were cut off by a harsh smack resounding against your pussy lips and you jerked up and into his chest.

"Bad pussy" he seemed to be immersed in a world of his own amusement and lust, ears deaf to your pleas while his dark eyes drank up every last drop you had to offer. "Always playing around with her Daddy" the force of his metal hand was cruel against your tender flesh when three short paced slaps came down on it in quick succession. "Thinking she has a choice, tsk" the next hit was hard and heavy. "It seems she needs to be reminded who calls the shots around here" two concluding slaps later, you were being braced for his cock again and surprisingly enough, your tense little pussy was much more compliant with receiving him this time.

That, and the embarrassing amount of slick that had seeped through your petals as a product of the brief disciplining session.

"You feel that, baby?" His eyes finally looked up into yours as he aligned himself along your entrance. "She's all fixed up for her Daddy now" and then he pushed in.

"Oh!" Your back arched before you could respond since he bottomed out rudely at once, biting down on a sensitive patch of your neck the same time as when he intruded your insides.

The thing was, it wasn't that James wasn't an experimental lover, no. The two of you had done things that you felt mortified to even think about for too long. But it had always been with proper care and vigilance because the then crown prince was very soft on you as he referred to you as his heart. So you treated him like a pet dog and trampled all over his feelings and the liberty you had found in his treatment of you; something you had never been allowed before. You were used to pulling at his strings like a puppeteer.

But now, the way he pulled and twisted you in whatever fashion that he desired…

You never expected the rush of hot need that waved its way over you and the thick arousal that gushed out of your womb to slick his cock to be the result of his manhandling you like you were no more than a doll for him to play with.

And then his touch that you had been deprived of for months was further blocking your intellectual faculties amongst other things.

James' eyes fluttered close as his metal hand reached for your throat to squeeze out the remnants of your refusals. A grunt left him as he let himself reminisce as well as get overwhelmed by the velvet texture of your splotched walls. He brought his face closer to yours and groaned before pressing it into one of your cheeks to press hard, sloppy kisses all over it as his hips moved but only to press harder up your womb.

It was James' custom invented way of getting you completely stretched out for his cock.

… That had grown thrice its size because of his serum procedures.

And the man had already been way bigger than the average.

"J- Jame-s!" You gasped out, struggling to breathe. His stiff tip felt like it was beginning to penetrate something else. "P- Plea-se!"

"What do you want, huh baby?" Your features scrunched together in discomfort as you flexed your fingers again. They needed to be freed so they could hold onto something to cope with the overwhelming penetration.

"Move…" A smirk pulled his lips apart and he opened his dark teal eyes to peer down at you, silently grunting as he pushed deeper at that. "P- Pl-ease–" your tears were starting to become hot and you could feel your nerves bulging against your forehead from the lack of oxygen.

"Will you behave if I do?" Your toes curled as you hissed, the knee that you wanted to bring up as a way to deal with the pain trapped under his heavy thigh.

You timidly nodded because there was not much else left for you to do. It hurt, and you wanted him to move to ease the pain almost as much as you needed him to fuck you.

James clicked his tongue in disapproval and bit down on one of your nipples in a punishing manner, making you jolt upwards in pain. "Use your words, honey." A surge of pure pleasure overwhelmed you and you moaned loudly with satisfied nods, letting him know that you were in the process of complying.

Like you always did when he was buried balls deep in your cunt.

"So you were fucking him when he was courting you, weren't you?!" Nick was furious on the other line, feeling like a lied to fool as you had denied it when he had asked you about it. "I fucking knew it you stupid slut!" The words caused you to clench harder around James' girth as you bit your bottom lip. "I am–" he went to cut the call but a gun entered the frame to press into his temple as his car seemed to come to a halt. You heard a faint 'watch' being told to your fiance.

But for some twisted reason, the way in which Nick's livid eyes now watched you with a quiet rage caused the desire in your hips to only bubble hotter. He didn't have a choice for once and you could go against him all you pleased "I w- will behave… p-lease!" Your eyes had stuck on your fiance so James patted your cheek to redirect your attention to him.

"Eyes on me" the demand was followed by his letting go of your wrists to snake his arms under your waist to hoist you up and in a more convenient position for his cock. You moaned as your fingers found his long hair to hold on to.

"Y- Yes… sir" his leather jacket was coated in blood and human and you did not want yours to add to the mix. So you raked your mind and you raked it hard. "T- Thank you, sir" you rather prided yourself on your opportunistic wit.

James chuckled darkly as he began to reel his hips back, your cavern making a loud decompression sound as a result. You found yourself sighing in relief when his hard skin unglued from yours because for a second it had begun to feel like he was stuck in your channel.

"So fucking clever even with that little brain, aren't we, baby?" Of course you could never truly fool him regardless of how good you were.

"BUCKY! OH!" A vile whine loudly left you when he kissed your chin only to sink down his teeth into it next as his hips snapped against yours to fuck you upwards. He didn't halt this time and pulled out again to back thrust in, his movements slow but visibly desperate to speed up. "FUCK!"

"Ah, there is that girl I raised on this cock and its milk" your chin stung when he finally let go to close his mouth on one of your cheeks now, causing you to shiver from how overwhelmed you felt by the pain in your face and the pleasure that bloomed in your pussy that was inching closer and closer to a proper pounding as result.

"Please fuck your child in me!" It had been far too long. "Please! I need it so bad! Please fuck me full of your children so I can always remember who I belong to!" You liked how Nick watched– had to watch. It almost felt like revenge; a slap you had wanted to hit him stupid with for the longest time for making you feel so low when his brother, who was twice the man he could ever hope to be and your real suitor, never had. James' cock felt just right as he fucked you so good that you began to see neon stars. You didn't care anymore. Or at least, not in the moment. It felt as though your life depended on this release.

Perhaps… it did.

Besides, the silence in your surroundings and gun next to Nick meant James had it covered in some way. Not that it was much of a surprise. His Kingdom had the greatest army to date and those soldiers were loyal and compliant only to him.

"You know what's the best part about this, rosey?" Your mouth was agape as you panted and moaned through it alike, tugging at his silky strands as his ballsack clapped against the beginning of your ass before sliding into your cunt each time, the primal smell of slick, sweat and sex floating in the air around you.

"What is it, my King?" You were shameless with it, as you had always been. "Please tell me" the fake way in which you unclasped your fingers from his hair to scratch one of his cheeks with your nails made him clench his jaw as he squeezed one of your tits, pistoning his cock in and out of you even faster.

"I know you don't mean any of this" you froze momentarily and his crooked smirk morphed into a grin. "But you will before the year's end" you went to speak but his metal hand found your clit just in time and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nails digging into the stubble of his cheek. "I know you will" him promising you that you'd return his feelings one day wasn't anything new. He had always told you that. However, normally your response would be a roll of your eyes or simply a change of topic. But today, something dangerously final lingered in them and you had no clue why but you found yourself answering;

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I will, sir!" One of his thick nerves twitched against a particularly sensitive spot in your walls the same time his tip found your special bundle of nerves and brutally collided into them, tearing out incoherent screams from deep within you. "Oh- I am– I am–"

"Don't cum" his hand disappeared from your clit and your eyes that you had subconsciously closed flung open as you begrudgingly tugged at his hair with a needy whine. "You don't deserve it" your body violently jiggled up and down in his arms as you vehemently shook your head.

"NO! PLEASE!" If there was one thing he didn't appreciate, it was you raising your voice at him. But you couldn't help it, your build up was nearing its edge and the fear that it would topple over all wrong after such a long time scared you. Because once an orgasm was ruined, there was no coming back from it. James had taught you that one night after a ball when you had danced with someone a little too frankly.

"No?" He was panting himself as he hugged your waist closer to his, the feeling of his cock's imprint pressing against both of your stomachs only making him slam you down harder and harder. "So you deserve it?"

You quickly shook your head as your boobs flew about, pussy trying to close on itself out of sensitivity when his metal fist closed around your throat again. "N- No! No! I don't, sir!" Your voice altered in a humiliating manner when he squeezed and your dry throat pressed in on itself, making you cough.

"That's right" his hand parted from your neck long enough to slap you. "Think you can just say your pathetic little pretty please and I'll forgive you for forgetting my existence the moment I wasn't good enough for you?" You sobbed out of frustration, willing your hips into squeezing themselves closer together so you could hold on from falling over.

"No!" He slapped you again, the force causing your head to turn sideways this time around. "No, sir!" Desperately reaching for the artificial hand you pressed humiliating kisses all over it. "But it's been so long! Please, my King!" Your back arched from the strength it was taking you to keep yourself from cumming. "I need you so bad! I need it so bad!" In your confusion and oversensitivity you dropped your head against his, your knees trembling. "Only you can make me cum! I tried for months! So many times in so many different ways!" The tears of embarrassment were hotter than those of need that you had been weeping all this time. His movements faltered a little at your confession. "But nothing worked! Only you do! So please! Please let me cum! I don't know what I will do if you don't! Please let me cum and give me your babies!"

"Only I work, huh?" His voice was eerily quiet, a new kind of dark exploding in the air about him. You vigorously nodded, genuine for once in your life.

James' chuckle was the only thing your hazy mind registered before you were moved, twisted, turned and bent faster than you could keep up with.

The next time your consciousness caught up with the present you were facing your phone, on your knees like an animal as your build up slowly subsided. Though your vacant pussy was plunged full soon after, your legs getting pulled apart before being hoisted up in the air by James' hand, your elbows the sole support of the upper half of your body now.

"Tell him how badly you want to be stuffed full of my children and I'll let you have it" blood rushed to your face to bubble under the skin when your eyes locked with those of the stoic male at the same time but before you could hesitate, James cock began to move inside you although torturously slow. "You might want to hurry up, rosey. I don't have all night" the spank that his words accompanied sparked you into motion like someone pressed a button on you.

"Please, Nick!" The thrusts sped up and your claws dug into the mattress. "I want James' children so bad!" There wasn't much emotion on the male you faced but the bright red of his ears and neck even in the dim lighting of the car indicated that he was both furious and humiliated. Perhaps even more so than you. "Please! Please ask him to stuff me full of his babies!" The more slaps rained down on your ass as your pussy expanded to welcome James balls deep inside you with each brutal thrust, the more your mouth ran on the most vile autopilot. "All I want in my life is to be fucked swollen and heavy with his children with my body wrapped up in his color while I nurse the other ones!" James cursed before his hand reached for your front to dip between your legs and you moaned before your arms gave out and you fell face first.

"You heard her, now tell him that" as your cheek rubbed against the mattress everytime you were pounded into it, you heard a man speak to Nick. The Prince tried to protest but something– probably the gun pressing against his head caused him to stop before he gritted out a few seconds after;

"... Fuck your children into her and wrap her swollen body in your colour, James" the man reminded him that it was King James, for whatever reason and Nick sighed before correcting himself. "Please, King James" you couldn't help the whimper that forced itself out of you at his menacing tone.

Your back arched when the frantic circular motions of his fingers became too much for your cunt to handle and you clenched around his girth again, shuddering as you prepared yourself to get in trouble for the orgasm you were about to have.

But then your dependable luck did its thing. "Cum," the vibration of the spank buzzed through your whole body, "cum for me" as your tense muscles relaxed and you closed your eyes to let go, you felt James' hot seed explode within you, the force of his thrusts causing the cum to go flying all about.

Your eyes fluttered shut and the only two things you registered for the next few minutes were shaking profusely while limb paralyzing pleasure exploded through you and the rapid rubbing of your cheek against the soft bed covers which was result of the brutal pounding you were receiving from behind.

When he was done with you, he slowly untucked himself from you and left you trembling on the mattress while he fixed himself up. "Natasha!" Your ears perked up at the name of his second in command and you trembled at his volume. The heavy doors to your chambers opened and closed after the woman in question.

The red head clicked her tongue as she approached the bed, the heels of her boots faintly clicking against the floor as she walked. "Could've done better…" You jumped from how close she sounded when she spoke. "Because she's still awake" the hair on the top of your head was fisted into his metal arm to pull you up and you had to hurriedly scramble to cover your blushing jizz covered ass.

"For what's going to happen next" you whimpered at his words as you were moved onto your trembling knees by the humiliating hold that the man had on your hair and your whole body shook under the stern woman's scrutinizing glare. Peeking up at the red head through your lashes, you went to cover yourself up but James' scold for you to stay put had you planting your wrists in your lap within the next second. "Hands down" you hurriedly lowered your head too to avoid further increasing his ire.

Some shuffling sounded from above you before James approached you again. "Arms up, baby" the endearment must mean that you would be spared… right? You quickly complied with the utmost obedience and James placed a comfortable black gown on you before stepping back to reach for something else.

You almost gasped when you recognized the brilliant glimmer from your peripheral vision.

His mother, The Queen's, crown.

"There you go" you felt him place it on your head and your heart dropped. "Everything you always wanted placed on that silly little airhead of yours, baby" an embarrassing gasp escaped you when he suddenly pulled you closer by your throat. "Are you happy now, my sweet rose?" Your eyes welled up with confusion and how he suddenly slapped you before pressing his lips against yours roughly.

"He asked you a question, brat" you jumped at how Natasha spoke up suddenly, clearly fed up with you blinking up at him dumbly.

"That's no way to speak your Queen, Nat" your heart warmed up at how he clicked his tongue at the woman disapprovingly. "Tsk."

"Y- Yes. Yes" you nodded, still in a daze of post-orgasm sensitivity and general puzzlement at the absurd turn of events from an already shocking situation. "Yes, sir. Thank you so much."

He was smiling now. "Good girl" before he pecked your lips and held his hand back for Natasha to hand him something else. "You can rule all of them" your face burnt when your mind registered the accessory that he wrapped around your throat next. A collar and a leash embedded with sparkling diamonds. "I just want to rule you" his metal hand rotated in the air as he wrapped the leash around his bionic digits. "Let's go" you nearly fell on your face as you were pulled off the bed before being marched straight to the heavy doors.

Natasha opened them to reveal your entire family and staff standing mortified outside on weapon point of James' army. You whimpered and lowered your head in embarrassment until your chin touched the area between your collar bones, fingers tightening around your gown as you suddenly became hyper aware of the faint dig of the edges of the collar against your pampered skin.

"The King has called the alliance off" Steve, your owner's right hand, announced in his firm and curt voice. "The only reason why he has spared you, I must add just this once, is because you are related to the Queen. Any efforts of contact from here on out will lead to unsavory consequences akin to those his own family has met" a chill raised in your spine as your blood dropped in temperature. Holy fucking shit. They really had made a beast out of this once too noble to be true man. "Lastly, not that any of you really care but if the Queen ever wishes to visit, she will be allowed to do so after she has provided His Highness with an heir, accompanied by some of the best that the army can provide."

The walk out to the numerous sleek black SUVs felt like one of shame despite you wearing the crown you had always fantasized about.

And perhaps that's exactly what it was.

A balancing of the scale.

For betraying the one who loved you so dearly that even in his mindless state, he had known not to hurt you.

At least, not in a way that hadn't made your silly little pussy weep for more.

Tag(s) <3: @identity2212 @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @cjand10 @ihavetwoholesforareason @myfavbuckyfics

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #mcu bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #dark bucky x reader

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merlucide · 2 months

Text

Eyeliner with Shidou <3

Notes: IM ACTUALLY PROUD OF THIS?? IT TOOK ME A WEEK N A HALF BUT I ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING GOOD???

Words: 723

warnings: cursing, suggestiveness, shidou

In the walls of Ryusei’s bathroom, you were perched on the edge of the counter, watching your boyfriend struggle with his eyeliner. He’s wiped it off about 3 times now, normally he can get it in one quick swipe. His usual confidence seemed to falter with each failed attempt, his frustration growing.

"Fuck!’ He yelled, his hands uncharacteristically shaky as he tried once more to get the perfect line. His gaze met yours in the mirror as you try not to burst out laughing. Who would’ve thought that Ryusei couldn’t do his own eyeliner?

"need help?" you offered, your voice laced with amusement. Ryusei slitted his eyes and held up the liner to try again. You scoffed at his actions and watched he failed again.

After two more attempts, Shidou finally gave up, waddled over and stepped between your legs.

A smirk playing on his lips, his usual boldness returning. "Can't resist getting your hands on me, huh babe?" he teased, locking eyes with you, a challenge in his gaze. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "Keep dreaming you roach" you shot back, a smile adorning your lips.

As you leaned in closer, positioning the tip of the eyeliner at the corner of his eye. His smirk grew wider as you wrapped your legs around his waist, securing him in place. His hands travel down to your lower back. "Steady now." you whispered, your focus unwavering as you traced the eyeliner underneath his eye, perfectly recreating his daily look.

Ryusei's response was a low chuckle, his fuchsia eyes staring into yours. "Y’know baby, I could get used to this.~" he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You dolling me up, I mean." You rolled your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t realize the effect his words have on you. You focused on his other eye, dragging the liner. "Don't get too comfortable, this is a one time thing." you replied, though the playful tone of your voice suggested otherwise.

Once done, you pulled back to inspect your work, very satisfied at your perfect execution. Ryusei turned his gaze to the mirror, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the result.

"Damn, boo,! you've got skills!" he praised, giving you a quick deep kiss. As you capped the eyeliner, Ryusei leaned back to inspect your work in the mirror, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

"I look good enough to pull Sae, don't cha think?" he said, the playfulness in his voice designed to nudge at your patience. You rolled your eyes, smirking, unable to resist the bait he dangled. "Maybe,- Sae has a brother right? Rin? Oh, he doesn’t wear eyeliner cause y’know, he just has that natural charm." You quipped, a cat-like grin stretched across your lips.

Ryusei's playful demeanor faltered for a split second, a hint of competitiveness peeking through when you mentioned Rin.

But rather than the expected retort, his comeback caught you off guard.

"Rin, huh?" he mused, a sly grin replacing any feigned hurt. "Well, let him keep his charm. I've got something better." Before you could ask what that 'something better' was, Ryusei's arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly. You squealed at the sudden movement, his strength and speed never ceasing to amaze.

He carried you to the bed, your laughter echoing off the walls, a perfect melody to his ears. With a soft hard toss, you found yourself lying on his bed, the air knocked slightly out of you, only for Ryusei to immediately follow, collapsing on top of you, officially having the air knocked out of you.

His face hovered inches from yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"And what's that?" you finally managed to say. Ryusei's eyes peered down at your waiting ones. "You~" he whispered. You smiled, how cheesy could he possibly get? The playful yet sincere tone of his voice couldn’t help but tug at your heartstrings."You're my secret weapon! Rin can keep his charm. Cause I've got something sooooo much better." He finished, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, filled only with your intertwined breaths and the soft sound of you running your fingers through his hair.

It was okay if he messed up his eyeliner, if it meant you’d do it for him.

WAS IT GOOD OR AM I PROUD OF DOGSHIT??

made April 5th 2024

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d6volution · 7 months

Note

k so......I LOVE YOU(R) WRITING SO MUCH. i I was wondering.......can you make a posessive!cain x reader, please

Te he

tysm it means a ton <3 you guys give me the muse to keep writing and of course, here are a few drabbles.

a few possessive!caine drabbles below the cut enjoy.

caine/reader , sfw.

When you first arrived, everyone could tell something was different , but not about you. No, you were just as terrified and confused as they all had been upon arrival. There was something very different about Caine.

He was as loud as every, happy go lucky and oddly charming. But when it came to you he almost had a darker gleam in his eye. That said to the others to keep their distance. Of course it was brushed off with a silly jest or undeniably loud exclaim, but everyone saw through the cracks. Especially Jax. Though few spoke up about it.

Jax would often call you Caine's lapdog or boot licker.

Oddly enough the next day a few gloinks had been reported swiping Jax's mouth clean off his face, he was chasing them for hours even. Caine couldn't be found to fix the situation until the late hours of the night.

Possessive!Caine would cater to your needs a little too closely, even giving you hints during the adventures to make it easier. No, so you won't have to depend on anyone but him.

He'd make you sit on his lap when no one else is around, holding you snugly by the waist as he talked about absolutely nothing to past the time. You swear you feel his gloved hands moving lower each time.

Possessive!Caine would most certainly watch you sleep. If i wasn't one his "all seeing eyes," tucked somewhere discretely in your room , then it was him in the flesh. Standing oddly still at the foot of your bed as you laid with your eyes closed, getting sleep, you technically didn't even need. His hand twitching at his side.

Oh, and how adorable it would be if you tried to resist his constant hovering and closeness.

"Oh, you must misunderstand, my dearest y/n! You wouldn't make it ten feet out of the tent without my guidance. But I can't blame you. What would that pretty little head of yours know anyway?" His voice was joyful and animated as ever, but his eyes told a completely different story. His gaze was the chain around your ankle, daring you to cross a boundary he didn't like and to see what happened when you did.

#the amazing digital circus #caine x reader #tadc caine #the amazing digital circus caine #possessive caine #reader insert #tadc #drabbles #did i do this right? lol

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sethsclearwater · 10 months

Note

EMBRY👏🏼CALL👏🏼CODED👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

i couldn't resist not writing a blurb about that prompt i reposted a few days ago...🤭

...

"embry," you whined from your spot lounged on his bed, anxiously reaching your hand over to his so you could pull him over to you.

the man in question let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at you, "not happening babe," he mused, bending over to press a quick kiss to your lips before getting back up so he could go back to whatever it was he was doing.

you huffed, tightening your grip on his hand, "why not?" you whined again, tugging at him in an attempt to pull him back towards you. embry remained firm though, just offering you a soft smile before explaining himself.

"don't wanna hurt you," he explained, voice softening as he stepped over to the bed again and sat down on the edge, the bed springs of his old mattress squeaking from the added weight.

you rolled your eyes, "you're not gonna hurt me," you attempted to argue, sitting up a bit and using your elbow for support as you looked over at him.

he shook his head, "you know you're awfully pushy for someone who i've already made cum 3 times today, you know that?" he teased, a small smile on his face that had you blushing in a matter of moments.

"'s not the same," you whined, untangling your fingers from his so you could slide your hand down his bare chest and down to his sweatpants, "wanna feel you," you murmured, peeking up at him through your eyelashes, the action leaving embry no choice but to let out a heavy sigh.

seeing your opportunity, you decided to continue, "wanna feel how big you are," you murmured, sliding your fingers down a bit further so you could graze them over the bulge that had begun forming under his sweatpants, "wanna make you feel as good as you make me feel," you continued, peeking up at him when you heard his breathing hitch.

"oh for fuck's sake," he groaned, and before you even had a chance to respond, he had rolled over and pinned you underneath him, nestling comfortably between your thighs, "you're gonna regret asking for this pretty thing," he murmured teasingly before his lips collided with yours.

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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

Hii my name is eloise and I love ur writing so much.

But imagine the reader gets an Uber home from drinking with her friends and she stumbles into the house thinking Aaron is asleep but really he’s waiting up for her… and he’s like 🫢🤭 are you drunk ????

And then he puts her to bed cutely and makes her drink water and take her makeup off GAHHHH

aww thank you eloise - that's such a pretty name! happy to meet you <3 i fear i changed this up a bit where he knew she was out drinking but he was waiting for a call from her! i hope you still enjoy it <3

Opening the door quietly is of utmost importance. If you don't, you might wake Aaron, and he's on a tight sleep schedule as it is. The uber you'd called to bring you home drives slow and doesn't peel away from the curb with a screech, which you're grateful for. Now all you have to do is get the key in the front door, which proves to be more difficult than you'd anticipated in your inebriated state.

You don't get more than a few haphazard scratches of the key against the lock before the door swings into the house, and, as you'd been leaning on it while trying to open it, so do you.

"Woah!" You gush as your feet nearly fall out from under you, but a pair of strong hands push against your biceps, and you're upright again.

You notice Aaron standing in front of you, in jeans and a t-shirt. Not in pajamas, and not sleeping, either. Your hazy brain realizes a second late that he's the one holding you up, and you scramble to hug him where he stands.

"Aaron!" You gush, "You're still awake. I thought you'd be night-night."

He lets out a breath of a laugh at your phrasing, more suited for Jack than himself. He masks his amusement by pulling you through the door and shutting it behind you. It clicks into place and he locks it after, peering down the street at the faint lights of your uber driving away.

"Honey, you're home a little early," He hums, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I was getting woozy," You muse, hanging off of his bicep while he stares down at your slumped form, "I thought I'd call it quits and come snuggle up with you."

You shimmy your hips at the word snuggle but you're a little uncoordinated, not that Aaron is judging you for it. He smooths away your mussed hair from your forehead to press a sweet kiss there, happy when you hum at the feeling.

"Sweetheart, I was waiting for you to call me and ask for a ride," He informs you, "You know I'll come get you whenever, right? You don't have to waste money on an uber."

"What?" Your brow furrows, "You don't have to wait up for me, Aaron. That's- I didn't mean to keep you awake.'

A soft line of tears blossoms in your waterline as your lip and voice tremble in unison, "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not a bother!" Aaron insists, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks, "Hey, no, you wouldn't be bothering me if you asked for a ride. I stayed up because I wanted to, because I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"But you need sleep," You lament, sniffling weakly despite his soothing strokes over your cheeks, "And I would have told you to just sleep if I knew you were staying up. You could have been resting this whole time."

"I couldn't rest if you weren't next to me," He confesses, and he's glad you're a little bit drunk so that you don't tease him for how sappy it is. But it's true, and you sigh against the palm of his hand.

"Love you, Aaron." You hum, "Next time I'll call you."

"Good," He smiles softly, unable to resist leaning in once more to kiss your face. He targets your nose this time, and adores the way it scrunches in response.

"Let's get you changed," He pulls gently on your hand to guide you towards the bathroom, "And I'll take off your makeup too, honey. Then we can go night-night."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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cacti-are-like-flamingos · 7 months

Text

Lover is a Day...

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Softcore

**¡Halloween, tricotrí! ¡Dame chavos, no maní! ¡No te escondas que te vi, en la casa de Pepín!

** 09/20, 2:18 p.m. - Gege, when I fucking catch you... there are no spoilers in this episode btw

**09/20, 3:18 p.m. - I hope you're bullet proof, because once you make the parallels, this bout to h u r t

...

Yaga had a knack for playing the role of a silent observer, that is, when he wasn't giving your group an earful (specifically your lot) for indulging in the most ludicrous antics right in his classroom.

I swear I wrote about the carvings in a previous episode but idk which and on whose desk but it is what it is

Who could forget the time he went ballistic because you lot thought it'd be genius to carve your names into the wooden surface of your desk?

(Side Note: You were the one behind that plan, with Gojo egging on Suguru to join in. Suguru had been adamant on not doing it, but funnily enough, he was the first to carve his name on the wood.)

(Add-On: Ieiri was the one who had the blade, a simple scalpel she always seemed to have on hand. Strangely, she carried it with her wherever she went. When boredom struck, she'd use it to carefully trim the ends of her hair.)

Honestly, for someone who had a strong distaste for vandalism, Yaga surprisingly couldn't find it in his heart to sand those carvings away.

(Side Note: While tidying up one of the campus storage rooms, Maki stumbled upon your desk from your first year. It had been concealed beneath layers of dust and a hint of mildew. Curiosity piqued, she couldn't resist taking a closer look, and there, amidst the neglect, she discovered two unfamiliar names, etched alongside Gojo's. She never mentioned it to anyone, but the curiosity gnawed at her. Still, she knew better than to pry into the Six-Eye user's business.)

Yaga swore he didn't play favorites, but if you pressed him, he might just confess to having a soft spot for either you or Ieiri (although, to be honest, it leaned more toward you, especially since you never missed a Friday for knitting lessons). When it came to Ieiri, well, their interactions were usually filled with her nonchalant and uncaring attitude, making it a bit tough for Yaga to really bond with her.

Yaga, as the implications suggest, regarded you as kin, perhaps even more dearly than blood. This sentiment deepened upon discovering the harrowing circumstances of your arrival, the cruel treatment you endured at the hands of the elders—treatment he loathed to the core. Yet, despite this fierce indignation, he was trapped in a web of helplessness. He lacked the political clout and cursed energy prowess to challenge the elders, not for now, at least.

So, all he could do was try to make your time at Jujutsu High a bit more bearable. And let me tell you, that wasn't easy when you had to deal with an insufferable tampon and that crafty schemer.

However

With you around, Yaga felt a certain calmness settling among your trio. It seemed his earlier assumptions about the two boys were spot on.

Gojo, usually the master of comical antics, seemed to don a more serious demeanor when you or Suguru were around. Gone was the need to perform, as you often referred to it during your knitting lessons.

(Side Note: Your theory was that Gojo's act served two purposes. Firstly, it was his way of appearing more human than the god-like entity everyone saw him as. Secondly, you thought it was his subconscious attempt to relate to humans. Gojo had always been seen as incredibly arrogant, having lived a life where he was hailed as a god. But even gods, you mused, might grow tired of their divine status. Perhaps, occasionally, they wished to experience life from the perspective of an ordinary "ant.")

(Add-On: You shared this theory with Yaga during your 24th knitting lesson. By that point, you had grown comfortable enough to openly share your thoughts with him. You tended to be more talkative, showing a vulnerability that made Yaga want to protect you like the child you still were.)

Suguru projected an image of calm and composure, but Yaga could discern the undercurrent of anxiety beneath the surface. His leg would bounce with the weight of silent worries, and his eyes would dart from clock to board, back to the clock, to you and Gojo, and finally outside. It was a restless ritual, but the moment either Gojo or you uttered a word, whether directed at him or not, his demeanor would soften. His leg would cease its nervous dance, his shoulders relaxed, and the lines around his eyes would ease.

Ieiri, on the other hand, remained something of an enigma. She often appeared as a two-dimensional character, lacking clear purpose or direction. Her nonchalant, carefree attitude occasionally irked Yaga. However, he couldn't help but notice the subtle looks she cast your way. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when you playfully insulted Gojo for the simplest of actions. Her golden-brown eyes, fixed on the faint glow of your own eyes whenever you practiced your cursed technique in the training fields; it seemed she could hardly tear her gaze away from you.

Love could be so wicked at times

Especially in the Jujutsu world

As a teacher, Yaga was an astute observer. It was his duty to decipher each of your unique behaviors, allowing him to tailor his teaching methods to suit your individual needs. But that also meant, that he'd be forced to watch both your highs and your downs.

Gojo's smile, once a radiant beacon, gradually dimmed as your interactions increasingly revolved around Suguru. In contrast, Suguru seemed to lean on you for various things ---. he always kept a slight distance, just five steps behind, the once-prominent dark bags beneath his eyes now softened. It was as though his very gaze held you in existence, fearing that breaking eye contact might make you fade away.

You, on the other hand, avoided meeting Gojo's eyes, even refraining from playfully snatching his glasses, all to evade his probing scrutiny. A profound guilt welled within, but you maintained a cheerful façade when you looked up at the tall boy, your eyes closed in a half-smile.

Ieiri trailed behind the trio, her lips gracing a gentle yet melancholic smile, her ember eyes holding a distant quality as she observed the three of you. A flush colored her cheeks when you teased her with a sly grin, the playful gesture diverting her attention from any pressing questions.

He observed it all, sometimes wishing he could turn a blind eye to the subtle shifts in your group's dynamics. There were moments when he yearned for the courage to confront his students, but he pondered whether that would truly be the wisest course of action.

But dwelling on such thoughts had to wait, for now, he charged headlong into a horde of high-grade curses. Halloween, in his personal opinion, was among the most dreaded days of the year.

The streets came alive with a riot of Halloween decorations. Every lamppost was adorned with eerie cobwebs, and pumpkins with wicked grins lined the sidewalks. People roamed about, their faces concealed behind an assortment of masks and whimsical costumes, some posing for pictures while others sought to startle unsuspecting passersby with their ghoulish get-ups.

Above, the muffled thump of music from nearby nightclubs resonated through the air, intermingling with the boisterous chatter and sporadic shrieks of delight from the revelers below. The city had transformed into a carnival of the supernatural --- he despised it.

In an ironic twist, it felt like a taunt. Halloween, a night of heightened fear, saw curses rise to a crescendo of malevolence. These were no ordinary phantoms; they were vicious, craving blood and terror. Yet, the unassuming non-sorcerer folk continued to revel, blissfully ignorant of the holiday's perilous essence.

It stood as a paradox, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made by his colleagues and students. Their valor had shielded these unsuspecting celebrants from the brink of a nightmarish fate.

The rational corner of his mind comprehended that they couldn't be blamed for their ignorance. This veil of secrecy was a necessity; envision the chaos if the ordinary populace were to uncover the truth. The mere panic could breathe fresh vitality into curses, a catastrophe waiting to unfold.

Yet, the acrid part, the facet he labored diligently to conceal, was far from understanding. It harbored a bitterness, an ever-present sting. Why had his students chosen the path of potential sacrifice for those who appeared indifferent, oblivious even?

Nevertheless, there was something oddly cathartic about exorcising scores of curses, with no discernible bounds to the might of his technique.

Still, a nagging thought persisted in the recesses of his mind, one that refused to be ignored — how were you and the rest of the group faring?

You were meant to be a team, a rare instance where the elders had paired you with Gojo and Suguru. Missions with just the three of you were almost unheard of, and Yaga had always been curious about the reason behind it. But every time he tried to bring it up, usually when he passed you some yarn, you'd get all defensive and tell him to hush before the elders caught wind of his questions.

(Side Note: I'm sure you're all wondering where everyone else is, so here's a quick update. The trio is holding down the fort in Shibuya with Yaga. Nanami and Yu have been dispatched near Kyoto, working alongside the students from Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Meanwhile, Ieiri is back on campus, safe and sound, mentally preparing herself for the impending chaos when everyone returns, and she has to mend their wounds.)

(Add-On: Ieiri's usual smoke breaks lack the same charm without you there to light them up. It's just not quite the same.)

The memory of those moments still stung.

What exactly were you scared of? Because something must've scared you enough to deny him that piece of information, especially with how close the two of you have gotten.

(Side Note: Yaga was there to see the trio off. Surprisingly, you allowed him to pat your head, a simple but genuine gesture that warmed his heart. A grin threatened to spread across his face, but it was quickly overshadowed by Gojo's playful banter and Suguru's quiet laughter as they teased Yaga about wanting to be a father or something.)

(Add-On: You would never admit it, but you, too, felt the subtle warmth Yaga had alluded to. You watched his soul transition from its usual darkish purple to a fleeting, light orange glow, and it left you with an inexplicable sense of unease.)

Perched atop a towering skyscraper, Yaga allowed himself a stolen moment to survey the world below. In this rare interlude, a semblance of composure washed over him.

Since your arrival, not necessarily your fault alone, but a persistent unease had gnawed at him, weaving dread into the very sinews of his muscles and the calcium ions within his bones.

From this vantage point, he observed, as he always did.

On your side

There was an unsettling aura about a frowning Gojo, a sensation that gnawed at the core of things. It felt out of place, like a discordant note in an otherwise harmonious melody. A stoic facade, Suguru mused, would have been more fitting. Even tears, a rarity that would require an earth-shattering trauma, seemed a lesser evil than the frown that now etched itself upon Gojo's lips.

Was it Suguru's doing? Did his actions somehow bring this perpetual frown to Gojo's face? The questions swirled within him like a tempest, an unceasing storm of uncertainty.

"You know the truth," a voice echoed in the recesses of his mind, resonating with a cold and cutting edge that made him flinch. It was his voice, yet not his own.

He barely had time to complete his internal inquiry when his trajectory carried him toward an impending collision with the wall. That is, it would have if not for the interlocking web of chains, forming an impenetrable barrier that spared him from a potentially incapacitating crash.

Despite the quick save, Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist.

Nonetheless

Suguru couldn't help but offer a knowing smile as he redirected his gaze skyward. Above him, you soared, gracefully navigating from one chain to the next. The buildings became your towering trees, and the streets transformed into your verdant jungle.

Ugh, comparing you to Tarzan leaves a bad taste on my tongue for some reason

You didn't need words; he instantly grasped the meaning in your gaze. A gentle smile blossomed upon his lips, and he assured, "I'm fine."

With a stiff nod in response, you swiftly redirected your attention to a Grade-1 curse. Your chains sliced through it like needles through fabric, siphoning its cursed energy to unleash a cascade of attacks on surrounding curses.

But where was Gojo? The sound of shattering glass served as his only warning. Shards lightly scored his uniform and skin. Suguru's eyes narrowed in irritation and a hint of anger as he observed Gojo's stoic figure striding through the wreckage, seemingly unfazed by the chaos that surrounded him.

Tiny tears marred Suguru's cheeks as his uniform bore the brunt of the Force, revealing glimpses of skin through the delicate fabric wounds. Strangely, not a solitary drop of blood stained the scene.

He couldn't restrain his frustration, hurling curses at Gojo with palpable anger. "Oi, Satoru! Are you out of your fucking mind? You could've ended me right there!"

In response, Gojo couldn't resist an eye-roll. "Nah, you really wouldn't have."

Suguru's eye twitched at the albino's careless words, spine straight and shoulder stuff as he eyed the man before him. Meanwhile, Gojo looked absolutely bored out of his mind as he nonchalantly cleaned out his ear.

"Fucking bastard." "If you're so irked by me, come get me, asshole "

And so, the pissing match began once again.

Lately, their little 'spats' had escalated into something far more heated. What once was a light-hearted banter and a contest of egos had taken a darker turn about a week ago. The laughter that usually followed their bouts was now replaced by an uncomfortable tension.

And you were fully aware of the reasons behind this shift. But would you intervene? Well, that's still up for debate.

Just as the situation seemed on the verge of boiling over, your phone chimed with a familiar ringtone. A smile grazed your lips as you greeted the caller with a lightness in your voice.

"Everything going well on your end, Kento? Is Yu doing fine?"

As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice a sneaky curse trying to creep up on Gojo. It's tendrils aiming for his rights side. With a casual flick of your wrist, your chains skewered the unwelcome visitor. The abrupt action prompted Gojo to cast an inscrutable look your way, sending a shiver down your spine.

He's still hanging in there, so I guess he's doing alright." In the background, another voice piped up, "Is that who I think it is? Give 'em a shout from me!" You couldn't help but chuckle as Kento let out a melodramatic sigh, "You heard?"

You replied, "Yep. Tell him I said hi back. And pass along the same for Mei-Mei and Utahime."

Kento quipped, "You're pushing your luck."

With a casual flick of your wrist, you dispatched yet another mess of foul goo.

"Why the call?" you asked. "...No reason," came Kento's mysterious reply. You grinned, "Ah, I see."

(Side Note: In the current scene, Yu found himself in a comically dire situation. A curse had him pinned down, and he flailed his arms around, calling out for Mei Mei's assistance. Mei Mei, thoroughly entertained by this display, couldn't help but find Yu's predicament rather endearing. She watched, amused, though she refrained from helping him until Utahime, embroiled in her own battle against two curses, shouted at Mei-Mei to come to Yu's aid.)

(Add-On: Utahime was seriously on edge; this year's Halloween curses were exceptionally gruesome. Just catching sight of them was enough to rattle her nerves. She had half a mind to go say 'fuck it' and haul ass screaming like a little bitch. No judgement here cuz same)

Suddenly, you sensed a stray piece of debris hurtling toward your head. In a swift motion, your chains sprang to life, obliterating it before it could reach you. You shot an exasperated glance at Suguru and Gojo, who seemed engrossed in their peculiar spar—basically, just tossing things at each other.

Your patience snapped, and you hollered at them to cease their antics and refocus on the mission. Before they could react, your chains coiled around them, effectively immobilizing the duo.

Suguru relented with a pout, while Gojo couldn't resist a snarky comment. "Always knew you were kinky."

Your response triggered Kento's voice blasting through the phone in a tirade against Gojo's behavior, which only fueled Gojo's maniacal laughter.

(Side Note: Gojo didn't particularly want to laugh, but it seemed like an obligatory performance at this point.)

With an eye-roll, you shifted your attention back to the call. "We're almost done here, so no worries."

"Alright, stay safe. Don't trust those dumbasses for anything," Kento admonished before ending the call, leaving you quietly chuckling.

The tension was as palpable as ever, making the mission feel like walking on eggshells. You glanced at Gojo and Suguru, both now reluctantly cooperating. What started as a straightforward task had somehow morphed into a convoluted dance of egos.

As you ventured further into the cursed zone, the silence weighed heavily on the trio. Gojo's trademark smirk, usually as constant as the North Star, had transformed into a stern expression, his gaze fixated on the distance. Meanwhile, Suguru's fists were clenched, jaw locked tight.

Shit

Once upon a time, these two had been inseparable, but now it was like watching two tectonic plates slowly drift apart.

As you ventured deeper into the cursed alleyway, the oppressive darkness seemed to swallow you whole. The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it. You don't have time to think about it as you use your technique to identify the more hidden curses.

You cursed under your breath as bits of your clothing became stained by the grime of the walls. Filthy, damp walls pressed in from both sides, making it feel like there was no way out. Absolutely fucking disgusting.

Gojo led the way, his steps echoing off the grimy pavement as he followed the faint trail of minor curses. Suguru trailed behind, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

The darkness was thick, and the tension among your trio hung heavy in the air. It felt like a pressure cooker, waiting to explode at any moment. The distant cries of curses only added to the eerie fucked up atmosphere.

Gojo moved with an effortless grace, his sapphire eyes ablaze with cursed energy as he obliterated curses left and right. His movements were fluid, almost elegant, as he dispatched each threat with swift precision.

On the other hand, Suguru was growing increasingly agitated. He watched the curses he could've consumed vanish into wisps of nothingness with each sweep of Gojo's hand. His frustration simmered beneath his skin, boiling over into anger.

"Dammit, Satoru," Suguru glared, voice laced with annoyance. "I could've used some of those."

Gojo barely spared him a glance, his focus unwavering. "Too bad, so sad. You've got plenty in your arsenal already, Suguru. Don't get greedy."

Cue that angry mark thing on Suguru's forehead

You couldn't help but sigh internally, "I swear --- it's like a fucking k-drama breakup or something. Unbelievable."

But this was your fault

No, this is just things that have been simmering for a while finally boiling over.

And just what exactly prompted this...'simmering of feelings'?

...check your fucking tone and fix that attitude of yours.

Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try.

Fuck. You.

Also...

What?

Watch out, hehe.

(Side Note: When stressed, you curse. A lot. )

Suddenly, an especially powerful curse materialized, catching you off guard. It lunged at you, the impact sending you crashing into the nearby shop's window. The glass shattered like your composure, and blood painted the scene.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you were hurled through the air and into the glass window. The shards of glass seemed to glisten in a surreal dance of glimmers and reflections, and for a brief moment, the shattered glass created a fragmented tapestry of the scene, as if you were glimpsing reality through a shattered mirror.

Blue rose petals descended gracefully, an ethereal contrast to the crimson stains on your battered form. They tumbled from an unseen sky, their delicate dance casting an otherworldly beauty over the grim tableau.

Upon collision with the glass, it shattered into a symphony of discordant notes, the cacophony ringing in your ears. The shards dug into your flesh, tearing at your clothes, and for a suspended moment, the world seemed crystallized in chaos.

Lying there, gasping for air and stinging with pain, you took in the surreal sight of the blue rose petals falling around you. In the corners of your quickly fading vision, you saw flower pots and greenery --- it felt like you were back in Yu's dorm room. Safe and warm.

Oh, it's a flower shop.

First off, why the fuck is there a flower shop at the end of some random creepy ass alleyway?

Second off, why was it so quiet?

The eerie silence settled like a heavy fog, muffling the once-chaotic sounds of curses. You furrowed your brow, puzzled by their sudden disappearance. Where had they—

In a sudden and almost comically abrupt fashion, the souls of Suguru and Gojo popped into your field of vision. It was as if they had teleported into view, their ghostly forms shimmering with an otherworldly light.

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, their appearance catching you off guard amidst the strange stillness of the cursed zone.

"Fucking hell," you swore under your breath as you felt one of the two gently pick up your head before leveling it on a soft warm --- thighs. Bony ones at that so it had to be Gojo.

(Side Note: You couldn't help but instinctively reach out to palm the limb, the blood seeping from your scraped hands staining Gojo's pants.)

Suguru dropped to his knees beside you, his face etched with deep concern, his eyes darting anxiously over your wounds. He hovered his hands over the injuries, torn between wanting to help and the uncertainty of what to do next. The injuries weren't life-threatening, but they were far from insignificant.

"Hey, are you okay?" Suguru's voice quivered with genuine worry as he assessed the damage. "Damn it, you're bleeding..." Panic flickered across his features as he glanced at the blood, his usually composed demeanor giving way to concern.

His soul was crying

Gojo remained uncharacteristically silent, his lips parting only to remove his glasses. His gaze locked onto your injured face, and in that fleeting moment when your eyes met, it was a meeting of pearlescent and iridescent. The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for...

Before the thought could fully form, Gojo finally broke his silence. His expression turned grave, and he spoke in a low, almost breathless tone, "Use your chains on me."

You couldn't help but snort with amusement, even as a wince of pain crossed your face. "Now, who's the kinky one," you quipped, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

If you weren't injured, Gojo might have smacked the shit out if you, but in this situation, he opted for a sharp pinch on your arm until you acquiesced.

Drawing cursed energy from people was always a unique experience, but what intrigued you even more was the distinctiveness of each person's energy.

Suguru's had a bittersweet undertone, much like his tea, while Gojo's... Well, perhaps it was his cursed technique, but it felt almost exhilarating. Sweet, like his insatiable sweet tooth, and undeniably stimulating.

Your blood raced with adrenaline, and you couldn't help but savor the taste of Gojo's energy. It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul.

Separating your chains from their souls, a shiver of relief coursed through your body as most of your injuries miraculously began to heal. With a soft hum of gratitude, you muttered a quiet thank you under your breath. With Suguru and Gojo's assistance, you managed to sit up on the pile of debris.

"Are you guys okay?" you inquired, concern lacing your words.

Suguru, still clearly shaken by the events, snapped, "You almost die, and you ask US if we're okay?" He couldn't hide his worry, despite his gruff tone.

You let out a playful pout as you leaned into the warmth of Gojo's hands, tilting your head back like a whiny child. "Well, fuck you too, Suguru." "Don't you curse at me, you little-"

As you and Suguru continued your bickering, Gojo calmly brought you closer, positioning you against his body and enveloping your waist with his arms. His chin rested on your shoulder, and he let out a quiet exhale that felt like a sigh of relief.

(Side Note: The exhale was so strong that it lightly pulled on your moon earring. The very one Gojo gifted you.)

You froze at the unexpected closeness, momentarily taken aback, while Suguru observed in silence, a pensive expression clouding his face.

One beat

"You two really pissed me off, ya know?" Gojo's words carried an unusual weight, and both you and Suguru had never heard him sound so sullen. It wasn't meekness; Gojo could never be meek or weak, but his voice seemed, in that moment, small.

Though you couldn't see his face, you could sense the tremor in his voice, and it sent a chill down your spine.

Two beats

Both Suguru and you dared not to speak as Gojo continued to talk, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he spoke. It was as if he had to physically restrain himself from retreating into his usual emotional barriers.

"You disappear for a few days, and suddenly, you're both different. And then, it's like I don't even exist. You made me feel..."

Three beats

"Unwanted? Jealous? Neglected?" You interjected softly, your voice tinged with understanding. Gojo pinched your side, causing you to wince, and earning a sharp glare from Suguru. "Don't fucking psychoanalyze me."

"Sorry," you murmured, sensing the tension in his voice.

Four beats

Gojo tightened his hold on you, his voice muffled against your shoulder, "I didn't know what to do. I hate not knowing what to do."

Suguru leaned against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. "Typical Satoru. Always the 'strongest' but falls apart when emotions come into play." You clenched your jaw.

Five beats

"Suguru. Not now." You swore you saw a flicker of a satisfied smirk on the albino's face as you scolded said male. "Gojo, stop smirking." Now it was Suguru's turn to smirk.

(Side Note: Gojo was so ridiculously satisfied.)

From the corner of your eye, you spotted something amidst the rubble. Leaning over to pick it up, a soft chuckle escaped your lips as you realized it was a nondescript bottle of sake.

Nothing too distinctive, just an ordinary bottle of sake.

Balancing it in your hand, you inhaled the aroma as you uncorked it. A soft sigh escaped, and a small smile graced your face.

As you took a cautious sip from the bottle, you were pleasantly surprised by its smooth and mellow flavor. The warmth of the sake spread through you --- a nice contrast to the cold air of Japan.

"Are you serious right now?" Suguru's voice resonated through the eerie silence of the ravaged flower shop. With a shrug, you tossed the bottle to Gojo.

Gojo grimaced, "You're seriously gross right now. Who knows where that's been?"

You rolled your eyes at his comment, "Well, either drink it and unwind or ditch it to relieve some stress."

He stared down at you for a good three minutes, his expression still contorted, before finally grunting and taking a sip. The effect was nearly instantaneous as the young Six-Eye User's tense shoulders relaxed.

Six beats

The severity in his gaze softened as he turned his attention to Suguru, who wore a similarly displeased expression.

With the bottle held in his large hands, Gojo seemed poised to throw it at the raven-haired man, but at the eleventh hour, he offered it instead. Their fingers brushed for a fleeting heartbeat as Suguru savored a modest sip.

A sigh escaped his lips as he let the alcohol slide down his throat, his shoulders dropping in a similar manner like Gojo as you silently stayed within the albino's arms.

A hush blossomed among the three of you, your gazes fixed on various points, as if deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other.

Yet, even in that unspoken silence, it seemed as if words were superfluous. Simply being present in that moment, basking in each other's auras and existence, sufficed to transmit everyone's sentiments.

Amidst the remnants of the flower shop, with broken petals strewn about like the memories of a fading dream, a subtle breeze whispered its way through the shattered windows, carrying the scent of blossoms that once danced in vibrant hues. And a soft, distant chirping of birds carried through the broken windows --- ah, it was morning already.

Suguru, his grip on the sake bottle loosening, glanced around at the desolation surrounding you. His eyes, once filled with annoyance, now held a touch of melancholy.

Suguru's gaze finally shifted, meeting Gojo's eyes for the briefest of moments. A flicker of understanding passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of...something.

As if by an unspoken agreement, Gojo lifted the bottle once more, offering it to Suguru. With a nod of appreciation, Suguru accepted, their bond acknowledged in this simple act.

You couldn't help but make an undignified noise as you tried to reach for the bottle, "Oi! Don't drink it all, I want some too!"

With a playful smirk, Gojo leaned slightly away from Suguru, extending the bottle above you, just out of your reach. "Oh, you want some too?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Suguru joined in with a sly grin, "You know, sharing is caring."

You responded with an exasperated sigh, your attempt to grab the bottle foiled by Gojo's playful maneuvering. "Alright, alright, you guys win. Just pass it over here before I start feeling left out." Ironic.

Gojo and Suguru persisted in their playful teasing, much to your chagrin, as you struggled within Gojo's grasp to lower his arm, desperately attempting to reach the bottle he held aloft. Suguru's laughter echoed through the room, while Gojo cackled with the exuberance of a madman.

From his vantage point, Yaga couldn't suppress a chuckle as he witnessed the scene unfold. It warmed his heart to see the tension between the three of you dissipate—perhaps not entirely, but enough that he believed everyone would experience a sense of relief come the next school day.

Seven beats

...

Song Inspo: Ray Laurél - CHARLES JEFFREY

(A/N): Hopefully, one day I'll see TCT on a 'JJK Tumblr fanfic recommendations' TikTok vid --- the moment people recommend this to others on that fucking app, that's when I know I'm doing a good job 💀

Valeria Garza has a chokehold on me rn. Ooo, should I write for CoD? It'd be interesting deciphering their personalities considering the shit load of trauma they all got going on.

09/20 - In the middle of writing this, a kitten sucked into my yard and I have dogs. I had to pry the poor thing out of their mouths (it's alive! Ran off tho). Unfortunately, the kitten did bite me. So I'm not writing this with an injured hand and a prayer that I don't have an infection. 🥹

09/21 - Just as I was finishing up, I received an e-mail from the Head of my Bachelor's Department saying that my current classes were not valid for my degree and that I'd have to re-enroll. I spent a whole 15 minutes bawling my eyes out, crying to mami on the phone before the mother fuckers had the nerve to tell me it was an error and I'm fine.

09/23 - it's like 12am rn and the most horrible thing happened and ugh, I could not stop bawling my eyes out and I was bleeding everywhere. I'm fine now but like damn bro.

Originally:

This episode was supposed to be published on September 20 due to, uh, reasons. (JJK 236 spoilers parallel) However, shit happened and I didn't publish it in time. My bad bros, hoes, and non-binaries bitches.

Originally, I had planned to kick off this episode from Suguru's or someone else's perspective – anyone but Yaga's. But, at the last second, I realized we needed a bit more Yaga content. Plus, it'd be intriguing to delve into his viewpoint regarding the cursed trio's dynamics and all that jazz.

"...gentle yet melancholic smile," was actually supposed to just be a 'gentle small smile.' This is because Ieiri was just happy to be there within the boundaries of your presence. But I changed it because, when written this way, it just confirms that Ieiri knows her status in the group. As in, she doesn't have an actual status.

"...Nah, you really wouldn't have." Was actually, "Oh come on, Suguru. You know I wouldn't go that far."

The plan for this episode was to kick off near a flower shop, but fate had other ideas. It concluded right at a flower shop instead.

"The narrow passageway twisted and turned, like a labyrinth designed by, uh, by ---- oh, fuck it." This was actually supposed to reference the ancient King of Curses but I couldn't figure how to do it, so I genuinely said fuck it.

"Don't fucking psychoanalyze me," was supposed to be, "So you knew yet you did nothing?" This is to imply your avoidance of confrontations. Maybe foreshadowing too.

Originally, you were going to apologize to Gojo for everything but then, as an author, I realized that the cursed trio are a bunch of teenagers put in the riskiest of situations with severe vulnerability problems and communication issues, hence the silence and the avoidance of eye contact.

This switch to Yaga as the main POV in this episode kind of plays with that idea that teachers are always watching their students, even if it doesn't seem like it. It's not just about observing; it's about whether they decide to take action or simply stay on the sidelines.

Ngl, certain characters, in canon, feel rather two-dimensional. Maybe, it's because I haven't really read the manga or finished the anime --- but like yeah. So I like exploring them, giving them depth and stuff like that. Like Yaga, Yu, Ieiri, and others.

Suguru narrowly escaped critical injury thanks to your swift response, an imperceptible wall formed by hundreds of tiny chains that perpetually encircled him, akin to a vigilant guardian.

Though invisible to Suguru's eyes, these chains remained visible to Gojo's discerning gaze. In truth, this visibility was the sole reason Gojo took the actions he did.

Suguru's lack of injuries was all thanks to a secret chain connected to his soul. It channeled cursed energy into him, helping him heal swiftly. The finer details of this ability were still a bit hazy, but that's a tale for another day.

The elders, were deep into an emergency meeting, no doubt wrestling with the current crisis. Or so, one would think.

"And so, the pissing match began once again." After this line, I genuinely had no idea what to write next. So I chose to involve the one character that just feels right to write about.

Kento's call came in the wake of an extremely close call, and he needed something to anchor him back to reality before diving back into his mission. The soothing sound of your voice, coupled with Yu's presence, worked like a balm on his nerves. (But you thought it was because he was worried about you. Which, technically, is true but that's beside the point.)

Episode: Borderline --- "...Keep it vague, just like your pointless existence." Goes hand in hand with, "...Or what? You'll kill me. Please, I'd like to see you try." Was that your own self-deprecating thoughts, or ???

The reason why Suguru's hands hovered was because he was afraid of causing more damage.

It wasn't his energy that made his soul quiver; it was the fear of losing you.

I wanted to have a little fun so I made that what you eat the most is what your cursed energy either feels like or tastes like. 🤷

As for Gojo, his Infinity vanished the moment he saw you crash through the flower shop window. The sheer shock and horror of the scene caused him to unintentionally drop it.

Typically, Gojo's soul is shielded from your sight due to the nature of his Infinity. However, when he released it, you were able to catch a glimpse of his presence, marked by a curious warp-like effect.

"It was strangely addictive, and you found yourself wanting more, even as you noticed the tremble in his soul." Energy vampire much?

The fact that you only ever truly feel safe is when you're in Yu's dorm room surrounded by his plants.

You intentionally left some minor wounds untreated, a small act of consideration for Ieiri. It would give her something to do when she arrived, and you secretly longed to be in her presence again.

"It was his voice, yet not his own." Is a reference to Suguru's creeping depression as well as an indirect reference to Kenjaku.

"...Are you out of your fucking mind?" Is Suguru referencing Gojo's technique and how it fries the brain to a crisp.

"Suguru swore under his breath as he felt a light pain blooming at his waist." and "...it's tendrils aiming for his right side" is a reference.

Note how, even though Gojo always keeps his Infinity on (or almost always) along with the fact that he's a Special Grade sorcerer, you still felt the need to protect his back from the minor curse.

The North Star symbolizes guidance, direction, stability and purpose. And no matter what, it stays in the same place no matter what goes around it.

It's not a glass ceiling, but rather a glass wall. Which can be interpreted in multiple manners. It can be the wall between you and Gojo, despite being able to see each other so clearly, a wall remains. The shattering of it representing your agreement in acknowledging the connection.

Or, it's the slow shattering of the Curses Trio's reality as we near Spring.

Or, it's foreshadowing.

Blue roses signify the unattainable. It's like a longing for something to exist, but it forever eludes your grasp. This is a direct reference to the Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1 Opening where Gojo carries around a bouquet of blue roses.

In this episode, the clash of "Pearlescent vs. Iridescent" gave way to a harmonious fusion of Pearlescent AND Iridescent. This is to reference that an emotional connection has been officially acknowledged. Not made but acknowledged.

"The connection would've been near-perfect if it weren't for..." His being is near-perfect in your eyes because if he had just never been born with Six-Eyes, you'd love his blissful ignorance

Although Suguru might be considered your closest friend (in Gojo's mind at least), it was Gojo you instinctively reached out to. Ironic considering how long you've been trying to emotionally avoid him.

If my memory serves me right, the traditional act of sharing a bottle of sake signifies a union among individuals, and for this particular chapter, it felt more like the forging of a soulful connection, a merging of three souls into one. You could even liken it to a form of matrimony.

The consistent theme remained that open communication was a challenge among the three of you. You rarely delved into meaningful discussions, each holding back in your own way. (Communication may be key, but understanding is the door.)

The heart beats are a reference to another Episode, but I don't remember which. Oops.

Gojo didn't throw the bottle at Suguru because he was genuinely tired of fighting with the bestie --- he just wanted you and Suguru back.

Yaga being the silent observer says A LOT. You just don't realize it.

What was the meeting about?

Were you talking to your continually fracturing mind or someone else?

And what exactly did you mean when you said you saw scenes in the shattered glass?

Drop a comment!

Feel free to donate me a🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

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charlosvibesonly · 4 months

Text

Racing Hearts - Part 3

Pairing : Max Verstappen x fem! reader/ driver

max and y/n are only growing closer. they like each other. but would that be enough?

Part 1 | Part 2

it's a little long this time, i got carried away ;) your comments and support mean a lot, they motivate me to keep writing :)

Max and your unprecedented range of events were further heightened by the media. Everyone talked about you two. This wasn’t rivalry or friendship. This was something the world of Formula 1 had never witnessed before.

Instead of shying away from the media frenzy, you decided to face it head-on, braving a whirlwind of interviews, appearances, and photo shoots.

As the interviews rolled on, the playful banter between you and Max took on a life of its own, stealing the show every time. One moment that had everyone in stitches was when an interviewer asked about your daily routine. With a sly grin, you shot Max a mischievous look before answering, "Well, it usually starts with me crushing Max at some virtual racing on our gaming consoles. He's got nothing on me when it comes to video games."

Max playfully rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. I let you win, it's called being a gentleman."

You couldn't help but laugh, "A gentleman who can't handle losing, more like it."

From there, the conversation took off, touching on everything from your favorite travel destinations to your go-to karaoke songs. When Max couldn't resist teasing you about your high notes, you fired back, "Oh, please. You're just jealous that I can hit those notes better than you hit the apex."

The interviews may have been hectic, but with Max by your side, you were having the time of your life. Laughter became a constant companion, with inside jokes forming during every appearance. Fans started to notice the chemistry that went beyond mere rivalry.

The whirlwind continued with a series of photoshoots, where the chemistry between you and Max translated effortlessly onto film.

A photoshoot in progress, capturing moments frozen in time. You and Max couldn’t help but turn it into a playground of laughter. The photographer took a break, and Max seized the opportunity to unleash his mischievous side. As soon as the lens turned away, he pulled faces that ranged from exaggerated expressions of surprise to comically pouting lips. Your attempts to keep a straight face fail miserably, and you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Max, seriously, can you tone it down for a moment?" you plead through giggles.

He feigns innocence, "What? I'm just adding a touch of drama."

The photographer returns, oblivious to Max's brief stint as a comedic actor. However, you can't hold back your laughter, and the moment is captured on film - a snapshot of the behind-the-scenes hilarity.

As you both reviewed the photos later, there was a shared sense of satisfaction – not just from the stunning images but from the genuine joy that radiated through each frame. The glossy images weren't just snapshots of professional racers; they were windows into something that had blossomed amidst the high-stakes world of Formula 1.

The marketing machine wasn't satisfied with just interviews and photoshoots; soon, Red Bull Racing suggested a joint podcast to delve even deeper into the personalities of their star drivers.

Max grinned, savoring the opportunity to steer the conversation toward more personal territories. "Alright, Y/N, let's make it interesting. If you could relive any moment of your life, what would it be?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the unexpected turn. "That's a tough one. Maybe a childhood memory. You know, the carefree days before racing became my entire world. How about you, Max?"

He leaned back, adopting a thoughtful expression. "I'd probably go back to my first race win. The rush of emotions, the taste of victory."

It was your turn now, “Any race that is your favorite?”

"Remember that one race in Monaco?" he mused, a playful glint in his eyes.

You grinned, "Oh, how could I forget? It's not every day you get kissed in front of the entire world."

Max leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, "And yet, here we are, still making headlines."

As the race weekends unfolded, the media attention showed no signs of waning. Every shared podium appearance, every victorious celebration, and even the occasional post-race kiss fueled the narrative further.

“We had my shoey. And now Max and Y/N’s kisses seem to be a new tradition. You know I’m all up for it. If I’m on the podium, I’ll be kissing Max too.” Daniel said playfully in an interview.

During a particularly tense race at Spa-Francorchamps, you and Max found yourselves wheel-to-wheel in a fierce battle for the lead. The high-speed duel captivated fans, but what happened after the race added an unexpected twist to the tale.

In the cool-down room, Max approached you, a genuine smile on his face. "You pushed me out there. Good race."

You grinned, "Likewise. But what was with that risky move at Eau Rouge? You almost sent me off the track."

He chuckled, "Gotta keep you on your toes. Can't let things get too predictable."

Needless to say, your cheeks turned red fast.

Amidst the chaos of media attention, race weekends, and public scrutiny, you and Max found a moment of respite in the city where it all began – Monaco.

The evening started at Max's house, a chic and cozy penthouse overlooking the harbor. Soft jazz music played in the background. The scent of a delicious homemade meal wafted through the air, as you and Max stood side by side in the well-equipped kitchen, aprons on, ready to embark on a culinary adventure.

"I hope you're prepared for a taste of my secret recipe," Max teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed you a chopping board.

"Secret recipe? Should I be worried?" you replied with a playful smirk, taking the chopping board from him.

"Okay, maybe 'secret recipe' was a bit of an exaggeration," Max admitted, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. "But I promise, it'll be the best pasta you've ever had."

The aroma of the simmering sauce filled the air, blending with the smooth jazz playing in the background.

While chopping vegetables and stirring pots, Max stole a playful glance at you. "You know, Y/N, I've never had this much fun in the kitchen before."

You smiled, with a playful glint in your eyes.

As the final touches were added to the meal, you and Max set the table, the anticipation building for the culinary masterpiece you had created together.

After dinner, you sat on the balcony. The night was beautiful and calm.

As a gentle breeze rustled, Max reached for your hand, his touch conveying a silent assurance that, at this moment, it was just the two of you against the world.

"You know," Max said with a soft smile, "I never thought cooking together could be this much fun."

"Surprising, isn't it? Maybe we've discovered a hidden talent for culinary collaboration," you replied, intertwining your fingers with his.

He chuckled, "Or maybe it's just the company that makes it special."

And then, in a tender yet passionate moment, Max leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours. "You know, Y/N," he murmured, "there's something magical about moments like these."

You felt your heartbeat quicken, a gentle flush warming your cheeks. "And to think only a couple of months ago we were hell-bent on tearing each other apart " you teased.

As his lips met yours, the world outside the penthouse faded away.

It wasn’t like those kisses you had before. They were fueled by adrenaline. But here it was just pure calm, and genuine happiness to be with each other.

But a storm was brewing quietly.

Headline: "Max Verstappen's Soft Side: Is Y/N Taking Advantage?"

In recent weeks, Max Verstappen's performance on and off the track has raised eyebrows among fans and pundits alike. The usually fierce and competitive driver seems to have softened, and many speculate that Y/N’'s influence is the cause. As their unexpected relationship unfolds, questions arise about whether she's leveraging their connection for personal gain. With Y/N now on the verge of a potential championship victory, concerns grow that Max's focus on the track may be compromised, jeopardizing his chances at the championship.

Max sat alone in his dark room, his anxious eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he scrolled through the endless stream of news articles. The more he read, the more uncertain he felt, and his mind began to race with worst-case scenarios. The words on the screen seemed to taunt him with their tone, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by doubt and fear.

Suddenly, his phone rang, shattering the eerie silence of the room. He saw that it was you calling, and his heart raced with anticipation. Should he answer? The temptation was too great to resist, but he couldn't bear the thought of what might come next, so he hit the reject button.

His doubts had won.

It was race day.

“Max is back! Oh Y/N would not have liked that. Hurts being taken out from the race by your own boyfriend.”

#max verstappen #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo

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chrissv4mp · 1 month

Note

hey!! your writing is too fucking good omg. would you be down to write a cute celebration with olivia rodrigo, where the reader is an athlete and makes the winning basket or smth??

my champion 🏆💞

warnings: none!

author's note: HIHI ur so sweet, tysm☹️🫶🏼 also, more olivia fics out soon bc yall seem to really like them!!🙈 this is a little short bc im like really bad at writing fluff! also olivia being a basketball gf... AHHHH very VERY old thing i wrote butttt... i had to keep u guys fed until i get so american out!!

pairing: fem!reader × olivia rodrigo OR basketball player!reader × olivia rodrigo

_____________

"that's a travel, what the fuck?" you scoffed, resisting the urge to stand up off the bench.

coach collins sighed, rubbing her temple as she looked to the ground. the opposing team bad just made a basket and were now ahead of USC.

you bounced your leg out of stress as you looked up at the scoreboard, 2 more minutes until the fourth quarter, and the state championships, ended.

"we need subs," coach collins said, but your teammates didn't move until she looked back at them darkly.

you didn't move either, assuming that you weren't allowed any playing time since you had been in for a majority of the game.

"y/n, you too." a smile formed on your lips as you stood and ran to quickly kneel on the sideline.

the referee blew the whistle and you and the other 4 girls were allowed on the court. you couldn't help but look up into the crowd, trying to spot your girlfriend.

"c'mon, y/n! woo!" olivia cheered, and you could feel your smile and the urge to win grow.

_____________

15 seconds, and the opposing team had the ball.

they were still up by one point, and you kept cursing yourself for missing baskets.

"shoot the god damn ball!" an audience member yelled, and the girl who had the ball obeyed.

it bounced off the rim, falling straight into your hands. you didn't hesitate to sprint down the court, stopping just at the 3-point line.

you had to make this or USC would lose. you would lose.

inhaling deeply, you bent your knees and then jumped, watching as the ball rolled off your fingertips and into the air.

3 seconds, the crowd informed as they counted down. the ball hit the rim, but it didn't bounce back.

2 seconds, the ball spun around the orange rim, and you could feel your nerves coming back.

1 second, the ball went in.

the crowd erupted in cheerful roars, screams being heard from your team as they ran up to you.

your mouth fell open, shock being visible on your face as one of your teammates came to pat you on the back.

"let's go, y/n!" she yelled, smiling.

_____________

after the small celebration with your team and a quick shower, you began to make your way down the hall towards the exit.

just as you were about to pass a hallway, olivia jumped out at you and pulled you into her embrace.

your eyes widened for a second, but then you wrapped your arms around her lovingly, resting your chin on her shoulder and breathing in her perfume.

"you did great, babe." she muttered, pulling away from the hug before grabbing your face and kissing you.

smiling, you grabbed her waist, bringing your bodies closer together before muttering against her lips, "thank you, liv. i wouldn't have been able to do it without you."

olivia pulled away before showering your face with kisses again, holding you tightly.

"hey, let's get out of here, yeah?" you suggested, grabbing hold of her hand and beginning to walk out of the building.

liv nodded, not being able to take her eyes off of you.

"what're you looking at?" you laughed as you got into the car, buckling your seat belt as you put your keys into the ignition.

"you. you're just so pretty." she mused, reaching over to grab your hand again.

the car ride home wasn't at all silent due to olivia congratulating you ever 5 seconds. she was such a sweet girl, you didn't understand why other people didn't think so.

as the two of you approached your home, olivias smile widened, her grip on your hand just a little tighter, "i knew you guys would win, y'know?"

you smirked, looking over at her as you parked the car in your driveway, "yeah?"

the brunette nodded, "yeah, that's why i did something special. just for you, baby."

"c'mon." she smiled, getting out of the car.

your smirk turned to a smile as you got out of the car, following liv inside of the house and out to the backyard.

your mouth fell agape as you saw the scene outside. there was a small blanket on the grass, on top of it was a picnic basket with pillows laying just beside it.

"liv, oh my god." you mumbled, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

"surprise, love." she said, kissing your cheek before leading you to the sit beside her on the blanket.

_____________

it wasn't long until the sun had set and the both of you were lying down and looking up at the stars, hands intertwined.

the only sounds that heard were quiet breaths and the gentle gusts of wind every now and then.

you loved whenever it was like this, just you and your girlfriend alone, sitting in comfortable silence.

"i love you." you whispered, turning your head to look over at the beautiful brunette.

liv turned her head just after you, staring at your eyes as she smiled sweetly, "i love you more,"

you rolled your eyes, scoffing as you looked away, "not possible, but okay, liv."

"it is possible?" olivia laughed, squeezing your hand lovingly.

the rest of the night was spent under your guys' shared roof, holding each other tightly and never letting go.

you wondered what you did to deserve liv.

. . .

tags: @strnilolo @heartsforchrisandmatt @iluvmattyb @sturn3g1rl @mstxrniolo @@mattsneezing @ryli3sworld @chrissturnswife @mayhem-72 @mattsbbg @sturn-wrld @stingerayyy2 @freshloveee @films4sturni @h3arts4harry @voidghsts @@lanixsturniolo @thebottledwatersupplier @niicksposts @sluttformatt @junovrsmp4 @freshsturns @333-luvsturns @stvrnslover @twelveozpepsi

#olivia rodrigo guts #guts olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo x reader #olivia rodrigo #guts album #guts tour #spill your guts #sour tour #sour album

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too-antigonish · 2 months

Text

More Top Shaun Evans Acting Moments in Endeavour

When I posted Top 10 Shaun Evans Acting Moments in Endeavour a few weeks ago, I asked folks to let me know what I had missed.

This is a compilation of all of the replies I received...plus 3 more I couldn't resist adding myself.

The rooftop scene in S1E2: Fugue (~1h26m10s)

"Go home, put your best record on, loud as it'll play, and with every note, you remember... that's something that the darkness couldn't take from you." --suggested by @librawritesstuff

2. At the pub with Ms. Frazil in S2E2: Nocturne (21m08s)

"So subtle and impeccable timing of his simple but oh so potent lines."--suggested by @peeps-posts

3. When Morse and Bixby have a drink after the party in S3E1: Ride (~44m01s)

"...the actors had such great chemistry!!" --suggested by @notholaenas

4. "A date Ms. Frazil?" "I like to keep my hand in." from S3E2: Arcadia (~28m40s)

"The big moments are glorious I agree but it’s the little touches in small scenes that I love." and "Love the interactions between those two!" --suggested by @peeps-posts

5. Morse talks about his mother in S3E2: Arcadia (~1h01m50s)

"There's something about that scene... I don't even know how to explain it." --suggested by @thewatcher98

"The gentle memory and the sadness overwhelms me every time I watch it." --suggested by @oxfordlovesblog

6. "When if jumps, you run," and an honorable mention for the panic vomit from S3E3: Prey (~1h22m29s)

--suggested by @librawritesstuff and @alias71

7. Thursday thanks Morse for drawing fire away from Joan in S3E4: Coda (~1h22m10s)

"...and then they just look into each other's eyes and don't say a word. It's just... Chills up and down my spine honestly." --suggested by @thewatcher98

8. The scene where Morse is drugged in S4E2: Canticle (1h17m50s)

--suggested by @librawritesstuff, @sircolinmorgan, and @lanternheart

9. Morse talks to Caroline Bryce-Morgan in S4E3: Lazaretto (~1h13m20s)

--my addition

10. Scenes with Eve Thorne in S5E1: Muse (~1h15m38s)

--my addition

11. Claudine and Morse after sex in S5E4: Colours (~55m19s)

"How it changed from playful to serious to playful again..." --suggested by @oxfordlovesblog

12. Scene in S6E1: Pylon where Box tells Morse he’s messing up the crime scene (~16m40s)

"You can see Morse wants so badly to tell him to fuck off then he looks at Thursday and sees that Thursday is not going to defend him so he turns and walks away." --suggested by @wndr-wmn

13. Morse listening to the moon landing from his car in S6E2: Apollo (~1h27m16s)

--suggested by @librawritesstuff

14. The scene in S7E2: Raga where Violetta asks Morse if he believes in forgiveness (~56m38s)

--my addition

15. Morse has a breakdown at his desk after finding out who Joan is marrying in S9E1: Prelude (~1h14m03s)

--suggested by @morsesnotes

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #shaun evans #this man can act #so can everyone else on this show

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 11 months

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Hiya~

I know I've sent you so many asks already (and feel free to tell me to stop if I'm annoying you. I'll understand) but I was thinking maybe a Melissa's reaction to reader bringing home a puppy without letting her know first. Maybe one of the Italian breeds like a Cane Corso.

i literally just wrote this quickly because i love dogs and couldn't resist so i hope you don't hate it - but also i love your requests sosososososo much!!

hoagie

melissa schemmenti x reader

this is just pure fluff | wc: 799 | masterlist

Melissa had been waiting for you to come home after your trip to the store; she’d sent you out to pick up a couple of ingredients for dinner. An hour ago. She was almost done with her second glass of wine and you’d still not come back.

She was beginning to get worried, only hoping that her wandering thoughts of something terrible having happened were way off the mark.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard the front door open and close, soon followed by you, bag in hand and a smile on your face.

“What took you so long?” she asked you, taking the bag from you to begin unpacking. “I was beginning to think you’d started another street brawl.”

“That was one time. And an accident. And hardly a ‘brawl’,” you argued with a huff whilst she just laughed. “My friend called me whilst I was out, she was nearby and I got distracted, I’m sorry.”

“Mm, and I see you bought my favourite coffee to get in my good books,” she muttered as she put it away.

“Has it worked?”

“Definitely, honey,” she answered, pressing a kiss to your lips. When she pulled away she eyed you inquisitively, eyebrow raised. She knows you too well not to notice something was up.

“What?” you laughed, shuffling where you stood.

“Which friend was it?”

“Angela.”

“The one with all those dogs?” she countered whilst you nodded and she began chopping vegetables.

“Don’t you think having a little puppy would be so perfect?”

“No,” she returned. “I love them but I don’t think I could handle two of you with the zoomies every night,” she added with a chuckle.

“I get that,” you agreed. “Want me to help?”

“Sure.” Her voice questioned your intentions and she was convinced there was some kind of ulterior motive. “You tryna butter me up or somethin’?”

“Can’t I help my girlfriend, just because?”

“I guess,” she shrugged. “But don’t actually touch anything.”

“Y’know, her Cane Corso just had a couple puppies,” you muttered as you took a seat on the kitchen counter, mindlessly stroking her hair to try your hardest to appease her.

“Proper Italian dogs,” she mused.

“Here, I’ve got some photos,” you responded, shoving your phone in front of her face excitedly. “They’re a few months old and one of them nibbles on your fingers with his toothless mouth which was a little gross but I love him so it’s fine.” You were getting antsy, glancing towards the front door, and luckily Melissa was distracted enough to not notice.

“He sounds like you - is he gassy as well?” she teased, only receiving a little shove from you in return.

“Rude,” you pouted as you hopped down from your seat, heading back towards the front door. “I just remembered I forgot something in the car, don't miss me too much - also don’t forget how much you absolutely adore me, and how you can never be mad at me about anything ever.”

“God, what’d you do?” she sighed, turning off the stovetop, but you were already gone, muttering to yourself words she couldn’t clearly hear.

You were glad to see her facing away from you when you walked back inside and you were able to walk up behind her before she could chastise you right away. The dog in your arms sat comfortably with his head against your shoulder, soft fur against your cheek and his tail wagging slightly.

You cleared your throat to get her attention and her eyes widened, though she wasn’t overly surprised considering you're always causing a mischief she only pretends to find annoying.

“No. No, we cannot have a dog,” she spoke, keeping her eyes on your face to avoid his.

“Aw, but look at him,” you pouted, using his paw to wave at her. “Hi, mom, I woof you.”

“That was terrible,” she groaned, unable to hide her smile at your silly grin. You both looked so adorable, both of you sporting puppy dog eyes. “We can’t keep him. He hasn’t got a name so it’s not too late fo-”

“He has got a name,” you interrupted. “I named him Hoagie and I love him.”

She hated how she couldn’t resist the pair of you and how her own body betrayed her when she cupped his face between her hands, letting him chew on her thumb excitedly.

“You’re both gonna cause me a lotta trouble.”

“Yep,” you grinned largely, instantly grimacing at the sudden appearance of a certain smell you don’t care to sniff ever again.

“I knew he was gonna be gassy,” Melissa groaned, pinching her nose between her fingers as she grabbed the air freshener. It would soon be clear that the cotton fresh spray would have to make a regular appearance.

#melissa schemmenti x fem!reader #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 8 days

Note

Well here are two for you.

Transfer thoughts and feelings when Buck considers joining the 217.

Anchor - for dating a pilot, Buck, never seen or dated someone so ground and stable as his boyfriend.

Hellloooooo sorry for being slow, this is finally my filling of another BuckTommy prompt! Nonny, I worked with your second one here and I'm afraid that the first one is probably not gonna happen, my muse is not striking there at all. Sorry about that! 3 more prompts are gonna come, no worries.

TLDR: Another BuckTommy, this time another approach on S07e07.

Exceptional

–– I won't deny the lies and deception I've sought, I've learned, I've grown ––

"Eddie's acting weird lately," Buck says.

"Do we have to talk about Eddie now?" asks Tommy, and the question is justified.

Buck's couch is just big enough for him to lie stretched out on it, his head in Tommy's lap. They just had an excellent meal, and satiety, contentment plus a good helping of wine lulled them both into a very pleasant mood. The kind of vibe that will make more of Tommy's gentle kneading of Buck's shoulders in no time – though talking about another guy is a bit of a mood killer in the process.

However, turns out that conversations about Eddie are unavoidable if you’re with Buck. And maybe there's something to it, because he adds, "I think he lied to me."

Something in his voice seems to catch Tommy's attention, he bends over to look at Buck. Those blue eyes are mesmerizing, and Buck would be willing to forget about it, to make Eddie a problem for another day. But Tommy... he's just too observant. He knows that Buck's trust is almost boundless, and that he’s fragile, should it be shaken.

"Why would Eddie lie to you?"

Another valid question.

"Something doesn't add up," Buck begins, and because he starts gesticulating wildly, Tommy captures his hands gently and holds them tight. "Christopher says Eddie bought a scented candle. What does he need that for?"

"Maybe he likes the scent, Evan."

"He's also been really nervous lately."

"Stressful job?" offers Tommy, definitely the voice of reason.

Although the subject is effectively over – for this evening – because Buck can't resist those blue eyes or those talented hands, he can't get the matter out of his head. Tommy thinks he should just ask Eddie, but how on earth is he supposed to do that? Buck realizes that his evidence for "Eddie's been weird lately" is very thin, and buying scented candles or acting suspicious is not a crime.

But the pieces of the puzzle are adding up, albeit very slowly. Christoper says, Eddie washes his clothes every night, yet he used to hate even his weekly washing day. Athena casually remarks that she saw Eddie's doppelganger in Silver Lake. Because it couldn't have been Eddie, he thinks Silver Lake is overly hip and expensive, and he prefers completely different restaurants than the one where Athena saw someone who looked very similar to him. Strangely similar, that's for sure. Hen says that she collided with Eddie while reloading the firetruck, and he reacted weirdly when she asked him about a key ring he accidentally dropped and she had never seen on him before.

The incidents pile up, and the 118 begins to worry. Tommy, although permanently in Buck's thoughts, hovers on the sidelines as far as the 118 is concerned, and his and Buck’s crazy shift schedules ensure that he doesn't catch much. He is therefore totally unprepared when, after what seems like an eternity, they finally have an evening off together and he is greeted at the door by Buck with, "Eddie's cheating."

Buck, contrary to popular belief that probably only exists in his own mind, is not an idiot, and he's completely smitten with Tommy. He knows it's not the smartest (or even the most polite) move to greet his love interest with another guy's name, even before the welcoming kiss. Buck is just so distressed, it makes him jittery. And he knows that Tommy has every right to be at least surprised, but more likely annoyed.

Tommy, however, doesn't even raise his brows at this greeting, and he is neither surprised, confused, annoyed nor offended. He just enters the loft, closes the door, looks at Buck attentively, and puts a hand on his arm (all the fine hairs there rise up) saying, "You're upset, Evan." Then he gently leads him to the sofa, they sit down, and Buck thinks, yes, indeed, I am.

It's just that he didn't expect this reaction. Buck knows he's a nervous wreck when things go differently than expected. For the most part, he has himself under control, he has adapted strategies, although his therapist describes this as evasive masking. But these strategies are usually necessary, because Buck has often run into walls. He's been told he's annoying, exhausting, overreacting and a dozen other unflattering things. Never before has someone he cares so much about taken him so seriously.

Tommy just lets Buck talk. Buck gives him his spiel on everything he knows about what happened, and it’s a confusing story about an Eddie’s-dead wife-lookalike. And then he drops the bombshell, at least that's how he feels, by saying, "I did that once, Tommy."

"You dated a doppelganger?"

"I'm serious," Buck says, but he can’t really blame Tommy for seeking to lighten the mood in this absolutely muddled affair. "I cheated."

He doesn’t elaborate, because this is nothing he likes to think back on. None of his best moments, definitely. And what kind of confession is that anyway? Is this something you tell someone you've only been out with a few times, had a few nice (hot) nights with? Rather, is this something you tell someone you care so much about? But maybe just then, Buck thinks. Maybe just then.

"You're scared," Tommy says, and it hits Buck to the core.

There's an icy knot in his stomach since Eddie told him the truth, and it finally has a name. The nervousness, his restlessness, all that shrinks into a single feeling, even if it doesn't make it any easier. Fear doesn't disappear just because it's recognized.

"Evan," Tommy says, and the care in his voice almost melts Buck, "I'm not afraid you'll cheat."

Buck takes a breath, but the words that were already on the tip of his tongue have suddenly vanished. That’s a strange thing to say, isn’t it? Just now, Buck’s confessed he cheated on a former lover, and most people would probably have replied reflexively that he had nothing to fear, that they would never do that to him. Even though it was him who cheated.

"How can you be so sure?" Buck returns, and strangely enough, he’s almost angry.

Because, let's break it down, Buck, when it comes down to it, the people he cares about will not want him, and they’ll leave. And if they don't, then he will leave; save himself the pain, because there has already been enough of that. He already knows what they will say, how they will react, doesn't he? Only... it’s different, it’s so different with Tommy.

Eyes as blue as a mountain lake, muscles saying don't mess with me, gentle words yet pithy charisma: inwardly and outwardly, Tommy is quite contradictory. But an enigma he’s not. A rock, Buck thinks, yes. That's what he is.

"I'm sure," Tommy replies with a confident smile, "because you want me as much as I want you."

Buck falls apart in the most pleasant way. Because that’s true. In all this mess, that is perhaps the only truth. Yes, Eddie lied, yes, the man cheated on his girlfriend, and yes, the parallels are scary because it's clear Eddie is shying away from a relationship. Eddie doesn't fall in love half as fast as Buck does, and he has certain morals and standards, and he has Christopher; all of that makes the affair seem so scary.

But Buck finally realizes that this can be solved. Eddie isn't just his friend, he's family, because family isn't what you're born into. Family can be a group of people who trust each other, and you don’t leave them alone, you take care of them and pounce on problems together.

And what is Tommy in all this?

Tommy with his loving gaze, his hand resting on Buck's arm, his thoughts only on Buck. Tommy, who doesn’t think he’s a nuisance because he’s talking about Eddie; he thinks Buck cares, and that’s valuable.

Tommy, somehow, is all of this and way more. For a pilot, Buck has never seen anybody so grounded, so stable as his boyfriend. Above all, he has never experienced anyone bring him down to earth so quickly, so easily and with such an inimitable look. His fear hasn't completely disappeared, perhaps that's quite impossible, but it's buried far, far down in a heap of thoughts that now revolve mainly around Tommy. He doesn't deserve the man at all. But he doesn’t voice this thought, because he allows himself a little selfishness. After all, Buck was struck by lightning and came back to life, only to be struck a second time. By Tommy.

"That's right," he says quietly, and then, as if it were a very sudden, very exhilarating realization, he repeats it, louder. "It's true. I want you."

Lock, stock and barrel, he thinks, and now his boyfriend finally gets what he deserves: all of Buck’s attention, all his care and affection.

Oh, and a kiss.

#writing #fanfiction #my fics #BuckTommy #Buck x Tommy #Buck/Tommy #9-1-1 #9-1-1 abc #9-1-1 fanfiction #Tommy x Buck #firepilot #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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gothcsz · 13 days

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIII.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Exploring the complexities of their relationship, revealing past traumas and personal struggles that deepen their connection.

WORD COUNT: ~10k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: masturbation (m), gun mention/use, substance use (weed and alcohol), mention of suicide, mention of religion, mutual pining, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: oh boy… everyone grab a snack and get cozy because we're getting into the thick of it! a lot of character exposition this chap but i promise it's fun :p also couldn't help myself from making javi and helena a thing (?) 🙈 it just felt right™ lol anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰ read on ao3. ♰

♰ playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier leans forward, allowing his forehead to gently meet the chill of the shower tiles. Steam envelops the entire bathroom, swirling around him as the warmth of the cascading water embraces his skin.

Every fiber of his being screams against the temptation, but it’s too overwhelming to resist. His mind has been hijacked by lascivious musings since his first flicker of consciousness, and it only intensified with each passing second. The rational part of him had urged for a cold shower to extinguish the smoldering fire, but the primal instinct within demanded something more .

His cock has been throbbing with want since the moment he woke, the crimson head moistened with a droplet of precum. A deep moan escaped his lips as he reached down to ease the tension, but just as he began to feel a rush of pleasure, thoughts of her invaded his mind.

Her laughter a symphony of sensuality.

The warmth in her eyes like a glowing ember, making him feel hot with a desire he’s never experienced before.

The curve of her ass a work of art, a masterpiece that he longed to caress and gently bite down on as he worshipped her body.

And those magnificent tits of hers, god how they had looked that night at the fair, teasing and tempting him with their lusciousness in her corset.

The way she wore low-rise jeans, clinging to her hips like a second skin, had him yearning to leave bruising marks with the press of his fingertips; preferably as he took her from behind, her ass bouncing against his thighs while his dick pistoned into her.

He had halted immediately, his hand retracting swiftly from beneath the sheet as if scalded by its touch. Muttering curses under his breath, he rose with a sense of urgency, the need to cleanse both body and mind propelling him towards the shower to prepare for the day ahead.

Now he’s here, doing his worst to keep the fantasies away. Javier imagines her joining him in the shower, he can almost feel her wet body pressed against his. He envisions her sinking to her knees, wrapping those pouty pink lips around him and taking him deep into her mouth. Feeling her tight throat clenching around him as she gags and struggles to breathe, eagerly swallowing every drop of his release. The temptation is too much to bear, and he surrenders to the sensual daydream.

Fuck , in a slow and deliberate movement, Javier's hand glides down the contours of his chiseled chest, trailing down his soft abdomen until it reaches its ultimate destination. Wrapping his hand around his impressive girth, he begins to stroke himself with gentle, yet purposeful movements. But no matter how hard he tries to push her from his mind, the thought of Paloma lingers, taunting him. He desperately tries to conjure up memories of past lovers, but none of them compare to the fiery passion that she ignites within him.

She would look so pretty pinned up against the wall, resembling a riveting piece of artwork, as he stuffed his cock deep into her. He wonders whether she could handle him all at once or if he would have to indulge in the slow pleasure of opening her up with his skilled tongue and fingers, coaxing her into a frenzy of orgasmic bliss.

She must taste heavenly, like nectar from a honeysuckle on a warm spring day. Javier's mouth waters at the thought of exploring her so intimately, getting lost in the sensation of her warm and feeling her wetness smearing all over his lips and jaw. He could almost hear her sweet moans of pleasure as he licked and sucked on her most sensitive spots, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

He’d do it over and over again until she was whining that it was too much and she couldn’t take it anymore.

But she would, he’d make sure of it. He’d be determined to make her succumb to his every desire. Javier would talk her through the waves of pleasure, whispering the filthiest things in her ear and savoring the sound of her dulcet whimpers and melodic moans as she unraveled under his skilled touch.

He knows she’d make the prettiest faces, her swollen lips parting and repeating his name over and over, eyes shut close in which he’d tell her to open those pretty eyes of hers so she could watch him get her off for the umpteen time. He wouldn’t fuck her with his dick, not until he’s made it clear how generous of a lover he is.

He tenses briefly, heavy cock still in his hand as his pace moves from languish movements to quicker flicks of his wrist.

He’s so close, the familiar spark of arousal causing him to shudder as his balls clench with anticipation; images of Paloma, stripped naked and spread out before him in a myriad of sensual scenarios and positions flood his mind, driving him to groan with unbridled passion. His orgasm racks through him harshly, his release coating his fingers in a sticky sheen before vanishing down the drain.

Javier pauses to regain his composure and gather his breath. His forehead remains firmly planted against the tile, and he can't resist lightly tapping against it as he chastises himself for giving in to the temptation of masturbating to her.

Certainly it's not uncharted territory for him, yet following the surge of tension between them, he had ceased such indulgences altogether. He hadn't even had the urge to pleasure himself in weeks.

Today, for some reason, was an exception; marked by the persistent stiffness of morning arousal. His thoughts were fixated on her and his willpower was unwavering.

Javier finishes his shower, emerging from the mist and he envelops his lower-half in a towel. With toothbrush in hand, he diligently tends to brushing his teeth when there's an unexpected rap at the door. His brows furrow in mild annoyance, curious as to who was seeking him out on his only day off this week.

He lets the towel fall to the ground in his bedroom and he grabs his jeans, sliding them up his legs and foregoing any underwear. In true Javi style. He zips them up yet the button remains unfastened, a deliberate omission.

As he lazily holds his toothbrush in his mouth, he strides towards the front door. The door yields to his touch, his initial annoyance gives way to a self-assured smirk, his expression a subtle blend of amusement and satisfaction.

On the weathered porch of his modest trailer, Javier is greeted by Paloma, looking gorgeous as always in a enticing sundress that’s short enough to expose her beautiful long legs. Her hair, styled in a playful half-up, half-down look, frames her face like a delicate masterpiece.

She had hesitated, contemplating turning back when the silence lingered, a creeping doubt whispering that she might have the wrong address. Yet, just as uncertainty began to sway her resolve, Javier emerged, clad in nothing but snug denim, confirming she had indeed arrived precisely where she needed to be.

She couldn't give a damn if he spotted her ogling him, he had opened the door flaunting his half-nakedness so shamelessly. He’s obviously just stepped out of the shower, his locks damp and tousled in all the right places, droplets of water cascading down his glistening, honeyed torso. It is the first time she’s seen him in such a bare state.

Her intuition had been spot on–– he is a chiseled, sculpted masterpiece of a man.

Seeing him in the flesh is making her legs tremble with desire and causing a delightful dampness to form between her thighs.

Only when her gaze traces the tantalizing tuft of hair that begins at his navel and vanishes beneath the fabric of his jeans, does she feel the heat rising within her. The bulge of his cock is unmistakable, and she can't help but gulp audibly as she takes in the impressive girth straining against his left thigh.

Her mouth waters, literally.

" Nena, ¿qué haces aquí? (Baby what are you doing here?) " His voice oozes with smugness, relishing the familiar thrill of eliciting such reactions from women. Yet to provoke such a response from her, in particular, sends his ego soaring to new heights.

“ The library is having a bake sale… ” She starts, eyes still fixated on his crotch before it snaps up to meet his lustful stare. “ I’m goin’ door to door sellin’ my cookies to help out. ” Which is true, yet when she had seen his home address on the list of places to visit–– obviously she’d made sure to stop by here first.

“ Is that so? ” He muses, just now realizing that she’s got a small container in her hand, “ Do you want to come in? ”

The question hangs between them, both insatiably horny yet dead set on not crossing the sexual threshold of their friendship.

“ Sure. ”

With a gentlemanly gesture, he moves aside, granting her entrance. She mutters a soft thank you, gripping onto the container in her hand to keep herself together.

The aroma of his body wash, infused with hints of mint from the fresh toothpaste, envelops her senses; a potent concoction that she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.

While she's always appreciated the fragrance of a good cologne, the impact of Javier's scent surpasses any previous encounter, leaving her captivated in a way she’s never experienced before.

“ Gonna finish gettin’ ready. Be right back. ” He tells her plainly, walking off into his room and this allows her to have a second to breathe, steadying herself on the back of his couch as she gives herself a little pep talk before she hears him coming in again.

“ Santa María por favor dame the strength not to fu–– sleep this man. ” She whispers in a sacrilegious prayer, straightening her posture when he re-emerges.

“ So… you baked? ”

Javi’s sporting an old DEA t-shirt, the lettering a bit faded due to time along with those cursed tight jeans. He looks so hot, she begins to wonder if not fucking him is even worth it at all.

It is worth it. You have a date coming up with a guy your age and getting involved with Javier will just bring you more problems than peace. Plus, you like being his friend. Sleeping with him will only fuck that up. Her conscience reminds her, following after him as he leads her deeper into the small home.

“ Mhm, stayed up all night putting blood, sweat and tears into these. There’s a point in between batches where I blacked out and fell asleep at the counter so I don’t claim the ones that are slightly burnt. I didn’t have the heart to toss ‘em. ”

“ Not only are these made out of blood, sweat and tears–– but they’re burnt too. Huh... ”

Now in his kitchen, the confined space amplifies their proximity. She perches on a stool beside the compact counter, her gaze fixed on him as he unlids the container.

His eyes flicker between her and the tempting contents of her baked goods. “ Some bake sale you’re putting on. ”

His teasing has her playfully rolling her eyes, “ Not all of them. Just some of the oatmeal raisin ones. ”

“ Good riddance. ”

“ I think you purposefully hate on all the snacks I enjoy. ”

“ No, querida , you just have shitty taste in snacks. ” Javi remarks, tempted to include a jab about her taste in men as well, yet opting to withhold that comment. For now.

“ And you have shitty taste in decorations. Jeez , cowboy, are you even a real person? ” She quips, critiquing the lack of character in his living space. It resembles a generic model home, seemingly plucked from a showcase and deposited in the midst of nowhere.

“ Sometimes I ask myself that same question. ” He shrugs, reaching for one of the more inviting looking desserts but she slaps at his hand.

“ You have to pay for them first. ”

“ How much for the whole damn thing? ” Leaning in on his elbows, he meets her halfway, their gazes locked in a silent exchange, each peering into the depths of the other's brown eyes.

With a subtle narrowing of her own gaze, she communicates a silent message, her expression betraying a hint of playful challenge.

She gives him the price, he nods.

“ Let me go get my wallet. ” As he turns away and strides into the living room, her gaze remains fixed on him, engrossed by the way his shirt hugs his muscular frame and accentuates every ripple of his back. She can't help but feel a flutter in her chest as she watches him go.

She lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling as if she’s fawning over a celebrity heartthrob.

Paloma looks around the plain space, a little disappointed that she won’t be able to decipher his character based on the decor he had.

When he returns, she can’t help but ask why it’s so empty.

“ ‘Cause I don’t plan on bein’ here long enough to call this place home. ” Javier responds, his words carrying a straightforward, pragmatic tone. Yet, despite their simplicity, they strike her with unexpected force, shattering the illusion she has harbored.

Why did she assume he would just… stay? Surely after helping her father out as much as he could, he’d be packing up and moving on to his next assignment.

The weight of reality tightens its grip around her heart, yet she maintains a composed facade, her outward demeanor a mask of serenity as she nods in understanding.

“ Right, right. Makes sense… how long do you plan on stickin’ around? ” She attempts to pose her question with an air of nonchalance, though beneath the facade, a creeping sense of dread begins to take hold as she awaits his response.

He doesn't offer it immediately, sensing the subtle change in her demeanor, prompting him to pause and consider his words carefully. “ Not sure, hermosa . ” It remains simple and nebulous, as he too finds himself uncertain of the answer to that very question.

In an attempt to change the subject, he slides the money over to her, “ Now can I have one? ”

She exhales slowly, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, offering him a tentative smile, “ Knock yourself out. ”

She takes the bills from him while he casually selects one of the cookies, indulging in a bite and emitting a contented hum of approval at the flavor. " Not bad, " He remarks succinctly, and she can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at his underwhelming critique.

“ Really? That’s all I get? ‘Not bad’? I stayed up all night making these–– I think I deserve more than just ‘Not bad’. ”

A chuckle escapes him at her reaction, finding her response utterly adorable. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he takes another deliberate bite of the cookie, adopting a thoughtful expression as if pondering its flavor with exaggerated seriousness. “ The flavor profile is so… decadent. The richness of the chocolate is just superb––– ”

“ Okay, well, if you’re going to be an asshole about it then never mind. ” She crosses her arms against her chest with mock indignation, though a playful glint dances in her eyes; amused by their banter.

He shakes his head at her, finishing off the treat with a satisfied smirk.

“ It was very delicious, muñeca . Is there anything you’re not good at? ” Javier asks, genuine admiration coloring his words since she seems to excel at any task that’s presented to her.

With a snort, she retorts, “ Yeah, how much time do you have? ” Her mind swirls with a litany of frustrations—her failed attempts at nurturing a fucking vegetable garden, the relentless battle to suppress her feelings for him, her inability to stand up to her father.

The list goes on and on, but she keeps her struggles to herself. The version of herself that lives in Javier’s mind, the one that’s perfect and can do no wrong, one she’d like to preserve as long as possible. Especially since he wasn’t planning on residing in Seminary long-term.

Javier chuckles in response, letting his gaze soften, “ You're too tough on yourself, Paloma. You should give yourself more credit." She can't help but feel a hint of bashfulness creeping over her as he says this, twirling a tendril of her hair around her manicured fingertip absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on Javier with a mixture of amusement and affection.

Their playful conversation weaves through the air like a melody, punctuated by laughter and laced with a subtle undercurrent of flirtation, creating an atmosphere that feels as light and comforting as a summer breeze.

“ Ever held a gun before? ” He asks, noticing how her gaze had trailed over to where his pistol and badge sat on the opposite side of the counter.

Paloma’s eyes had only lingered on the objects because she remembered how sexy he’d looked last Sunday while apprehending Mr. Thorton.

She has to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together to release some of the pressure of her arousal as she recalls it. Her lack of underwear having some of her wetness smear against her inner thighs.

At his question, though, a very mischievous idea suddenly pops into her head.

“ Nope. Daddy has always been paranoid about all that. ” It's a lie that slips effortlessly from her lips, despite the fact that her father had been very serious about gun safety and had taught her how to shoot at a young age. In fact, she's quite capable of disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling a weapon with precision.

But Javier doesn’t need to know this. Not yet, at least.

“ Then I guess I shouldn’t offer to teach you a thing or two. ”

Paloma snorts, “ Oh c’mon. I’m a grown woman livin’ in an open carry state. I should learn how to use one… all things considered too… ” She alludes to the homicide cases and the current missing girl.

Javier wets his lower lip, contemplating his next move. She makes a good point, it wouldn’t hurt for her to know her way around the weapon and he’s surprised that her father hasn’t at least given her a few pointers with how paranoid he is that something is going to happen to her.

Still, he doesn’t want to overstep the elder man… but really, he’s already overstepped when he came all over his hand earlier while thinking of fucking the sherrif’s daughter.

She's also proactively requesting for him to teach her, showing her own determination and initiative in the matter.

“ Fine. I’ll meet you in the backyard. ” He acquiesces, pushing himself away from the counter. He snags one more cookie from the container before disappearing down the hallway.

Her eyes sparkle with excitement as his agreement sinks in, eager to see his reaction when she unveils her little secret to him. She springs off the stool, sliding open the glass door leading to the backyard. Shielding her face from the intense sunlight, she steps outside, ready to embark on this unexpected adventure with Javier.

From the back porch, Paloma observes him as he arranges an assortment of targets, using miscellaneous items he had gathered from around his home: empty beer bottles, a vase that had long irked him with its presence, and other odds and ends.

Once he finishes, they stand side by side, facing the trunk of his police cruiser, which he had pulled around to park in the backyard. The trunk is open, revealing the duffle bag of firearms issued to every officer. Javier gestures for Paloma to make her selection, his expression a mixture of anticipation and encouragement.

“ Hm, ” Paloma muses, tapping her chin as if in deep contemplation before pointing to the double-barrel shotgun.

Javier is slightly taken aback by her choice, but he swiftly retrieves the shotgun from the bag, along with a handful of shells. " This one's pretty heavy. Sure you can handle it, palomita ? " he asks, a condescending tone lacing his words.

“ Trust me, I can handle it. ” Paloma responds confidently, her tone carrying a subtle salacious edge. With a sweet smile directed at Javier, she turns and strides confidently towards the shooting area he had prepared.

Javier stills, muttering how fucked he is before following after her.

“ The kickback is stronger with these. You’ll need to get used to the weight and recoil. ”

His movements with the gun are graceful and assured. Her breath hitches as she watches in awe, her lips parting slightly as she bites down on the plump flesh, trying to contain the moan that threatens to escape.

Javier’s hands look massive as they wrap around the gun, and she can't help but imagine those same hands wrapped around her body, exploring every inch with the same precision and mastery. The way he breaks the shotgun open and loads the shells, his fingers flexing and tensing with each movement has heat rising within her, aching for his touch.

It's not just the scorching southern temperature that has her feeling hot all over, but the raw, primal desire that he ignites within her with just a simple gesture.

He possesses an effortless confidence that Paloma finds undeniably alluring. As he adjusts his aviator sunglasses and gestures towards the items scattered across the horizon, his gravelly voice resonates with authority and charm.

“ Take a deep breath in, then slowly exhale. Point at the target, squeeze the trigger and shoot. Remember, the kickback can be pretty intense so brace yourself for that. ”

He looks so handsome following his own instructions, easily shooting down that hideous vase and a beer bottle, causing them to shatter in pieces. The shots echoes out into the vast area, a few birds flying by.

Javier looks over at her, reloading the shotgun before handing it to her carefully, the safety switched on. “ Your turn, nena . ”

Paloma, with her piercing gaze and a mischievous smile playing on her lips, feigns innocence as she takes the gun from him. Though she is well-versed in handling firearms, she willingly allows Javier to guide her, relishing the opportunity to draw closer to him under the guise of naivety. With each word he speaks, she feels a magnetic pull towards him.

She purposefully handles it oddly which has him pressing flush against her back as he guides her hands into the right position. It takes everything in her not to lean back against him, the breeze that passes by paired with his proximity sends a shiver down her spine, the scent of gunpowder mingling with his rugged masculinity and cologne has her damn near whimpering; but she’s able to suppress the noise before it slips up her throat.

“ Remember: Aim, squeeze and shoot. ” He nudges her leg apart slightly with his knee, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly at the gesture, “ And keep yourself grounded. You’re not stupid, so handle this thing carefully. Don’t want you blowing off half of that pretty face. ”

He takes a few steps back, partially to watch her shoot but also because he felt his cock hardening when he pressed himself against her. Feeling the softness of her ass against his crotch was derailing, and it didn’t help that the flimsy fabric of her sundress is thin so he could feel that she wasn’t wearing any fucking panties. He digs into his back pocket to retrieve his pack of smokes, in desperate need of one.

Under Javier's watchful eye, Paloma raises the shotgun, feeling the weight of it in her hands as she aims at the first target. She switches the safety off, following his instructions (ones she was already aware of) and she keeps the act up, studying the items before her.

After a few moments of doing nothing, Javier speaks up.

“ Are you just going to stand there or are you going to shoot? ”

His words spur her into action, a determined glint in her eyes as she readies herself to take aim at the remaining bottles.

But just as she is about to pull the trigger, a sudden flurry of birds burst into the sky, their wings slicing through the air with graceful precision. A smirk dances upon her lips as she swiftly adjusts her stance, the shotgun now pointed skyward with a fluid motion that bespoke her expertise.

In a seamless display of skill and confidence, she tracks the path of the birds with unwavering focus, her finger poised on the trigger. With a steady breath, she squeezes it, unleashing a resounding crack then another that echo across the open expanse. Two birds plummet from the sky in a graceful arc, their feathers ruffling in the wind as they spiraled towards the earth.

Javier watches in awe, unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips, his admiration for her prowess evident in the curve of his growing smile. In that moment, he can’t help but feel a newfound sense of admiration for her.

She wasn’t eager to learn; she was already a master of the craft.

And as she lowers the shotgun, her eyes sparkling with triumph, Javier knows that he has found a kindred spirit in this enamoring woman named Paloma.

He realizes he’s been played a fool, yet his amusement outweighs any sense of annoyance. There is something oddly endearing about the way she had outsmarted him, a playful gleam in her eye that he can’t help but admire.

Her laughter rings out like music in the warm morning air.

" Beginner's luck, huh? " He says as she beams back at him, pride evident in every line of her expression.

“ Daddy’s been on the force since before I was born. ” She explains, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “ ‘Course he taught me, his only child, how to shoot. ” Turning to face him fully, she deftly flicks the safety on the firearm before extending it back to him with practiced ease.

“And we used to go duck huntin’ all the time, ” She continues, her words carrying the weight of memories shared with her father. “ S’how I got good at shootin’ moving targets. You ever been? ” Her question hangs in the air, accompanied by a curious tilt of her head.

Javier feels a sense of déjà vu wash over him at her words, a fleeting flashback to that day outside La Catedral with Steve playing out in his mind vividly.

No I have not been duck hunting…. You… fucking hillbilly.

He won’t call her that, though.

“ Nope, never been. ”

“ We should go one day. Y’know, if you stick around long enough. ”

Javier senses that their earlier conversation about his impending departure from town did not sit well with her. A small, narcissistic part of him takes pleasure in the knowledge that she will miss him when he eventually leaves.

Their flirtatious banter fills the air like the crack of gunfire, each moment building upon the next as they continue to spend the rest of the morning in each other’s company–– shooting at empty beer bottles to pass the time. With each shot fired and each shared smile, the connection between Javier and Paloma deepens, their playful teasing masking a burgeoning attraction that neither could deny.

As the sun reaches its high point, harshly casting its rays across the landscape, they find themselves lost in each other, the shotgun forgotten as they head inside to escape the merciless Seminary summer heat.

“ Why do you keep your gun against your lower back? ” Paloma asks, sitting on top of the kitchen counter as Javier pours both of them a glass of water.

“ Outta habit. Feels more comfortable and secure back there. ” He hands her the glass and she thanks him softly, taking a large gulp.

He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his own glass held lightly in his hand as he observes her. She tilts her head back ever so slightly, the sun-kissed sheen of sweat adding a ravishing glow to her skin after spending all morning outside.

As Javier's gaze falls upon Paloma's exposed forearms, his heart sinks at the sight of the bruises marring her delicate skin. The memory of the chaotic scene at the church floods back—the ramblings of Mr. Thorton, consumed by grief and intoxicated by sorrow, as he roughly seized Paloma in his anguish. The bruises now serve as a reminder of that harrowing encounter, igniting a protectiveness within Javier.

“ I didn’t know he’d grabbed onto you so harshly. ” While Javi is sympathetic towards the drunken man considering the unfortunate circumstances–– he shouldn’t have put his hands on her the way that he did.

Paloma's fingers drift absently towards the bruised area, her movements gentle as she brushes over it, her shoulders lifting in a subtle shrug. “ It's nothin’ compared to what they’re going through, ” She murmurs softly, her voice trailing off with a tinge of melancholy. The memory of the man's shattered demeanor weighs on her, reminding her of the profound sadness that had consumed him that day.

Despite the drunken ramblings, the accusatory tone, and the way he laid blame on the entire town for failing his daughter; Paloma didn’t harbor any resentment towards Mr. Thorton for his outburst.

While she acknowledges that aggressively approaching her was not the wisest choice, she understands that it was a momentary lapse fueled by grief and alcohol.

Her father had sternly lectured her when she revealed her lack of animosity towards Mr. Thorton and her willingness to forgive him despite his lack of apology. Romeo had been infuriated by his daughter's empathy, unable to comprehend her capacity for forgiveness in the face of such an incident.

“ Still, he was out of line for even–– ”

“ He was drunk out of his mind, Javier. His daughter was brutally murdered and mutilated. Do you all just expect him and his wife to snap back to normal after a few weeks? ” Paloma's words carry an edge, her tone unintentionally sharp, but Javier can see the underlying pain in her eyes.

He softens, reeling as he realizes she's not aiming her frustration at him specifically. His own demeanor relaxes slightly, his gaze reflecting understanding rather than irritation as he silently reassures her that he had no intention of pissing her off.

“ A death like that breaks families. It’s happening to the Thortons right before our very eyes.” She reflects after a pause, briefly considering the idea of confiding in Javier about her own experiences with loss, particularly concerning her mother.

She recalls the turbulent times following her mother's death, the strain it placed on her relationship with her father, and the wounds it left in their family dynamic.

Fortunately, Romeo had managed to pull himself (somewhat) together before things escalated too far between them.

However, discussing her mother remains a sensitive topic, one that Paloma avoids whenever possible. Her suicide was a painful and perplexing event, leaving Paloma grappling with unanswered questions and a sense of profound loss.

As a confused and grief-stricken teenager, she had immersed herself in psychology texts, searching for understanding and consolation on the topic of depression and suicide, but finding nothing that truly resonated with her mother's peculiar situation.

She blinks, dispelling her thoughts, realizing she has no intention of burdening Javier—or anyone else, for that matter—with her baggage. The memory of her last attempt to confide in someone, the priest at church, surfaces, and she suppresses a sigh of frustration. His well-meaning yet ultimately dismissive response, a canned platitude about finding solace in God, had left her feeling even more isolated in her grief.

It honestly pissed her off.

“ That’s just how it is sometimes, querida . A shitty fucking side effect to the whole thing. We can’t do anything about it. ”

There's a depth to her that she keeps carefully hidden, yet Javier can discern it with ease. It manifests in the subtle shifts of her body language, the fleeting emptiness that briefly clouds her gaze, and the sudden defensiveness she displayed when discussing the situation.

Despite her attempts to conceal it, her words are laced with emotion, carrying a weight of sentiment and understanding that hints at the complexities lurking beneath the surface.

There's a story hidden behind that guarded stare, waiting to be unveiled.

He won’t grant himself the selfish desire to be the one to unveil it. He doesn't feel worthy of being the person Paloma entrusts with her deepest vulnerabilities, believing he doesn't deserve such intimacy from her.

Javier's pragmatic nature is deeply ingrained, a fundamental aspect of his character that permeates every aspect of his life. It's a quality that serves him well in his profession, enabling him to approach his duties with efficiency and precision.

Yet, this same pragmatism often proves to be a barrier when it comes to offering comfort to others. He struggles to connect on an emotional level, his rational mind grappling with the intricacy of human emotions in a way that feels foreign to him.

While he excels in navigating practicalities, he finds himself struggling when faced with the nuances of empathy and compassion.

It's not that Javier is devoid of either emotions; rather, he has a hard time navigating them. He possesses a depth of feeling, but lacks the finesse in managing and expressing them.

A contemplative silence settles between them, each absorbed in their own internal musings.

She feels his stare but she doesn’t waver, instead changing the subject,“ I’m sure you’ve heard about Jonah Abbott’s birthday party? ”

Ah, Jonah Abbott, the remarkably young Mayor of Seminary, Texas. Descending from a lineage steeped in politics and law, his ascension to office undoubtedly owes much to familial connections and the influence of nepotism.

Javier's disdain for him is palpable, despite only encountering the man once. Jonah had stormed into the station, insisting that everyone attend his birthday celebration. His subsequent demand for case updates and entitled behavior when things didn't align with his expectations had left a sour taste in Javier's mouth, solidifying his opinion of him as nothing more than an insufferable individual.

Javi had intended to skip out on the party altogether, but after Romeo practically demanded his presence there, he quickly realized that dodging the event was simply not an option.

“ Unfortunately I have, ” He says sardonically, finishing off his water, “ Though I’d rather be anywhere else. Big parties have never been my thing, especially when the night is centered on schmoozing with asshole politicians. ”

“ Asshole politicians…. ” She smirks at him, “ So you’ve met him? He’s… a piece of work. I have no idea why or how daddy tolerates him. ”

Paloma doesn’t mention the many advances the man has made on her and how she’s had to politely decline him each time. He wasn’t unattractive, he held some kind of Kennedy -esque handsomeness but man was he ignorant and flashy as all hell.

His opulent mansion and foreign cars speak volumes about his personal wealth, yet she can't help but wish he would invest as much in supporting his town as he does in his own pursuits.

“ I’ve had to deal with men like that too many times over the years. Just when you think they can’t get any worse–– they do. It’s like they outdo themselves. Fuckin’ annoying pricks. They only get worse with age, too. ”

Javier’s verbal outpouring inadvertently provides Paloma with an opportunity—a chance to delve deeper into his past experiences, particularly his days with the DEA. Sensing an opening, she seizes the moment to probe for insights into his former life, hoping to gain a better understanding of the man behind the badge.

“ Who’s the worst one you’ve met? ”

The first name that pops into his mind is Bill Stechner. “ CIA asshole back in Colombia. But you could really trade in any fucker from either government and it’d all be one in the same. They’re all contenders for worst human beings on the fuckin’ planet. ”

Her brows raise in interest, “ It still amazes me how you’ve literally worked such an important and uppity job. How the fuck did you end up here, cowboy? ” It’s a rhetorical question but it still has him sucking in a breath.

As always, Paloma's keen observance doesn't go unnoticed. The spark of curiosity ignites within her, kindling a desire to unravel the layers of Javier's enigmatic persona. Yet, she exercises caution, mindful not to overstep boundaries or pry too deeply into his guarded past.

She knows all too well the delicate balance of trust and respect required when navigating the complexities of Javier's demeanor. So, she tucks away her curiosity, content to wait for the right moment to learn more about him.

She sets down her empty glass, hopping off the counter and smoothing her dress down. “ I guess I should get outta your hair and head back into town. I had a lotta fun this mornin’. Thank you for supportin’ the library… and for teachin’ me how to shoot. ” She remarks playfully with a wink as he walks her to the door.

“ Well, you were a very easy student. A natural. ”

Leaning casually against the door frame, Javier's gaze remains fixed on Paloma as she retreats backward towards her car. Despite the distance between them, their eyes never waver, locked in a silent exchange of unspoken sentiments.

“ I’ll see you around. ”

Javier's gaze drifts idly over the scattered papers before him, the weight of boredom evident in the blank stare he casts upon them.

With a heavy sigh, he resigns himself to the monotony of the graveyard shift, flanked by two younger deputies who share his weary disposition. The quaint confines of the department offer little respite from the tedium, with the only source of distraction being a TV cart positioned at the center of the room, broadcasting an old Astros vs. Mets baseball game.

As the flickering images dance across the screen, Javier's mind wanders, yearning for something—anything—to break the dullness of the night.

He’d lost interest in the game fairly quickly, turning his focus to the mound of paperwork that has steadily amassed on his desk over the past few days.

However, even the prospect of tackling the administrative tasks failed to hold his interest for long, leaving him adrift in a sea of ennui.

As he rubs at his tired eyes, preparing to rise and seek respite in a smoke break outside, the shrill ring of the phone slices through the quiet of the room. His movements freeze, instinctively drawn to answer the call that interrupts his escape.

“ Seminary Sheriff's Department. ”

“ Those damn kids are on my property again! ”

Javier has to pull the receiver from his ear slightly as the loud yet croaky voice of Arthur Reynolds reverberates through the line.

The elderly man boasts a lineage that traces back to one of the town's founding families. As a result, he holds vast swathes of land across the area, including a picturesque field of sunflowers that has become a local attraction.

The vibrant blooms draw the attention of passersby, who often linger to admire their beauty. However, Reynolds views their presence as an intrusion, and he isn't shy about expressing his discontent.

Constantly vigilant, he frequently calls upon the authorities to address the perceived trespassers. Due to his advanced age rendering him incapable of intimidating others into compliance, it falls upon individuals like Javier to enforce Reynolds' will, ensuring that his domain remains undisturbed.

“ Can you be a little more specific, sir. ” Javi says in a monotone voice

“ How specific I gotta be? S’a group of them drinkin’ and smokin’ around a campfire. Gonna light my goddamn field ablaze. You besta come shut it down and arrest these punks before I go down there myself and cause a ruckus. ”

That’s the last thing Javier needs, for the town to burn down on his watch. He begrudgingly acknowledges the validity of the old man's complaints, recognizing that there is merit to Reynolds' concerns for once.

“ No need for that, an officer will be there soon. ” As the phone call concludes, Javier briefly considers dispatching the deputies to handle the situation, viewing it as an opportunity for them to gain some experience.

However, a sense of caution tugs at him, wary of the potential risks involved in sending inexperienced officers into the field late at night. Ultimately, he opts to take matters into his own hands in case anything goes awry.

Donning his department-issued bomber jacket and ensuring his utility belt is fully equipped, Javier swiftly heads for the door. With a sense of purpose, he offers a brief explanation for his departure to the two deputies engrossed in the baseball game before stepping out into the night.

Not much after does Javier find himself navigating the winding dirt path that cuts through the heart of the sunflower field. Towering stalks of golden blooms loom on either side, casting elongated shadows in the dim light of the moon. With a flick of a switch, he illuminates the headlights of the cruiser, their beams slicing through the darkness ahead. The soft glow of a distant bonfire comes into view, beckoning him forward as he makes his way towards the source of the disturbance.

As the piercing lights of the cruiser illuminate the scene, a sense of urgency grips the group of young adults, prompting them to scatter in all directions like startled deer fleeing from a predator.

Amidst the chaos, Paloma lies sprawled on the ground on her back, her gaze fixed upon the expanse of the dark sky overhead, where the full moon casts its radiant glow upon the night.

She’d successfully snuck out of her house and into old man Reynolds’s sunflower field. August assured her they were just eight feet shy of his property line—technically absolving them of any trespassing allegations.

The appeal of an impromptu bonfire, fueled by August's persuasive phone call the night before, proved irresistible to Paloma. It didn't take much convincing to coax her into joining the group, the thrill of rebellion emboldening her for the night that lay ahead.

Paloma found herself indulging in more alcohol than she is accustomed to, her inhibitions loosened by the camaraderie of her friends. Peer pressure led her to experiment further, as she hesitantly joined August, Sloane, and Gabriel in sharing a joint. The unfamiliar sensation of the smoke tickled her throat, triggering a fit of coughing that betrayed her novice status in the realm of cannabis consumption.

“ Easy, little dove. ” August's voice was gentle, his hand tracing soothing circles on Paloma's back as she recovered from her coughing fit. With patience and care, he guided her through the process, demonstrating the proper technique for smoking. His gaze lingered on her lips as she tentatively wrapped them around the filtered tip, his attention a mixture of guidance and something more difficult to discern.

The combined effects of alcohol and weed have Paloma feeling as if she were floating outside of her own body, disconnected from the reality unfolding around her. Time blurred and details became hazy as the evening wore on. Before she knew it, August and a select few had departed, leaving her to her own devices—a directive she barely recalls amidst her altered state.

“ We’ll be back later. You just stay put and enjoy yourself. ” August's voice echoed in her mind, his words a distant memory as she found herself lost in a swirl of sensations.

The alcohol infused her with a sense of giddiness and warmth, while the weed enveloped her in a cloud of lightness and euphoria. Lost in the haze of intoxication, she surrendered herself to the whims of the night, allowing the intoxicating cocktail of substances to carry her away on a journey of uninhibited pleasure.

The mention of cops jolt Paloma out of her intoxicated stupor, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. With a sudden burst of urgency, she propels herself into a seated position, cursing under her breath as she struggles to gain her footing. Every movement feels sluggish and disjointed, as if she were wading through molasses in her attempt to confront whatever impending threat was approaching.

Had her father discovered her absence, realizing she had slipped out into the night and now found herself high as a kite?

Amidst the flurry of activity, someone had hastily extinguished the crackling flames of the bonfire, leaving Paloma disoriented and stumbling in the darkness. With nothing but the ethereal glow of the moonlight to guide her, she found herself left in the eerie stillness of the night as she navigates the shadowy landscape.

Javier steps out of his cruiser, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the darkness as he surveys the deserted scene. The group had scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving him with an empty field and a sinking sense of slight frustration.

With a resigned sigh, he turns to head back to his vehicle, his mind already drifting towards the paperwork awaiting him back at the station.

But then, a faint sound catches his attention—a soft shuffling emanating from the darkness nearby. Instinctively, Javier whirls around, directing the beam of his flashlight towards the source of the noise.

His eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of Paloma, tentatively emerging from the sea of sunflowers with her hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

The sight of her amidst the swaying stalks of golden blooms is both unexpected and strangely enchanting, casting her in an otherworldly glow beneath the moonlit sky.

“ What the hell are you doing out here? ” Javier’s voice cuts through the night, tinged with a mixture of concern and exasperation as he surveys Paloma's unsteady form. His gaze narrows as he takes in her swaying movements, a frown etching across his features. “ Are you drunk? ”

Her relief is palpable at the sight of Javier standing before her, his presence a welcome reprieve from the uncertainty that had gripped her moments earlier. She offers him a sheepish smile, grateful for his familiar face and not that of one of the jackass deputies.

With a sense of trust born from their shared history, she finds reassurance in the belief that Javier will keep their encounter confidential, shielding her from the scrutiny of others at the station and, more importantly, from the prying eyes of her father.

“ Er... just a little,” She admits with a giggle, her hands lowering slowly as she squints against the harsh beam of Javier's flashlight. “ Could you, like, point that thing elsewhere? M'gonna go blind. ” Her words are punctuated by a hiccup, her steps unsteady as she inches closer to him.

As she draws near, Javier catches a distinct scent in the air—the familiar aroma of smoke from the bonfire mixed with something altogether less innocent.

It's a scent he knows all too well from his days as a DEA agent, the unmistakable odor of marijuana lingering on her. With a sinking feeling, he takes in the bloodshot, droopy eyes of the girl before him, a mixture of disappointment and frustration welling within him.

“Are you high, too? ” Javier's voice is tinged with a blend of concern and exasperation. He knows all too well the allure of drugs, having spent years chasing down those who peddled them on the streets. Yet, seeing Paloma caught up in such activities strikes a chord within him, stirring up a complex mix of emotions that he struggles to reconcile.

“ Maybe,” Paloma drawls the word out, her voice laced with a playful edge. “ Why? Are you a narc? Oh, wait... you are. A certified and official narc. ” Her words are punctuated by another bout of giggles and hiccups, the sound grating on Javier's nerves. It's a familiar insult, one that cuts a little too close to home given August had called him the same thing not too long ago.

“ Who were you out here with? ” Javier demands, his frustration evident as he flicks off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness save for the soft glow of the moon overhead and the headlights of his car.

“ Some friends, ” Paloma replies with a careless shrug, her tone nonchalant. “ Come on, officer , why does it matter? We were just having fun… and technically we’re eight feet from the property line so we weren’t trespassing. ”

Some friends. The implication hangs heavy in the air, a not-so-subtle reminder of Paloma's recent association with August and his clique. Javier can feel irritation bubbling up within him, a storm of conflicting emotions that threatens to cloud his judgment as he struggles to maintain his composure in the face of her nonchalant demeanor.

“ Why does it matter? ” He scoffs, “ Public intoxication. Illicit drug use. Disturbance of the public peace or the peace of others. I can keep going. ” Javier's jaw clenches tightly, his words laden with the weight of authority as he lists off a litany of potential charges. Many of them are familiar to him, recurring offenses he's seen time and time again in the files of the company she's recently decided to keep.

Paloma rolls her eyes dismissively, her confidence undeterred by Javier's stern demeanor. “ Oh please. We both know you're not really going to bring me in for any of that. ” she retorts, her voice dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and self-assurance.

The idea of Javier restraining her sends a thrill coursing through her veins. The image of his body pressed against hers, the sensation of the cold metal restraints encircling her wrists—it's all too tantalizing to resist. Yet, even in her intoxicated state, a small voice of reason whispers in the back of her mind, urging her to exercise caution.

A fleeting impulse tugs at her to reach out and touch him, to feel the solid warmth of his chest beneath her fingertips. But a sobering sense of restraint holds her back, the knowledge that such a gesture would only complicate an already precarious situation.

“ I'm not entertaining this. Get in the car, I'm taking you home, ” Javier asserts, his tone firm as he turns away from Paloma, intent on ending the conversation then and there. But before he can take a single step, her hand shoots out to grasp at his elbow, her acrylic nails digging into the fabric of his bomber jacket.

“ Wait, not I can't go home yet. Not like this, ” Paloma pleads, her voice tinged with desperation as she realizes the gravity of her situation. Though she's sobered up somewhat since Javier's arrival, the thought of sneaking back into her house in her current inebriated state fills her with dread.

Javier's gaze flickers down to where she's holding onto him, his expression unreadable as he weighs his options. “ Shoulda thought about that before you came out here and fucked yourself up. ”

Feeling a surge of frustration bubbling up within her, Paloma retracts her grasp, her fists clenching at her sides as she meets Javier's gaze with steely determination. “ Okay, fine. Whatever—I'll just wait for August to come back and he'll take me home, ” she declares, her words laced with defiance.

The mention of August's name sparks an unexpected surge of possessiveness and jealousy within Javier, if he tightens his jaw any further; he might dislocate it. Though he tries to mask his emotions, the tension in his stance betrays his inner turmoil, leaving Paloma to wonder what thoughts are swirling behind his unreadable facade.

“ That’ll be worse for you in the off chance that you get caught. Now get in the car so we can get you some food and sober you up. I’m taking you home. ” Javier asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he gestures towards the passenger seat of the still-running police cruiser.

He watches intently as she hesitates for a moment before reluctantly stomping her way around the car and sliding into the seat beside him.

The ride into town is filled with an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of static emanating from the police radio as Javier relays updates to the officers back at the station. She sits with her arms crossed defiantly, her body angled away from him as she stares out of the window, lost in her own thoughts.

Pulling into the diner parking lot, Javier instructs her to stay put as he exits the vehicle and disappears inside the restaurant. He quickly places an order for a simple meal, then returns with a takeaway bag in hand, his expression unreadable as he hands it to her through the open window.

Now parked at the further end of the driveway, the silhouette of the Leighton family home looms in the distance.

“ Thanks for the food.. ” Paloma murmurs gratefully as they lean against the closed trunk of the police cruiser, the aroma of the meal enticing her high senses as she quite literally begins to devour its contents.

Javier remains silent, allowing the tension from earlier to gradually dissipate as they stand together in the quiet stillness of the night. The only sounds that fill the air are the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Feeling more like herself now, Paloma greedily slurps the remaining contents of her root beer through the straw before setting it aside. She waits for a moment, studying Javier's side profile before offering an apology.

“ I shouldn't have gotten such an attitude with you back there. You were just doing your job... and if it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I've done anything like this. ” She confesses, her tone tinged with sincerity.

Javier runs his knuckles along his jaw, briefly glancing over at her and meeting her gaze. He can't help but soften at her words, releasing some of the tension that had been coiled within him.

“ Just looking out for you, cariño. You never know what kind of mess you'll get into with a crowd like that, ” he admits, his tone gentle yet firm.

“A crowd like that? ” She repeats, brows furrowing slightly and feeling a twinge of offense on behalf of August and the others.

“ Let's not be daft, querida . Your friends like trouble––what lost twenty-something-year old doesn't? I'm not trying to piss you off, I'm just being realistic. ”

She just hums in acknowledgement, choosing to focus on the remaining fry in her container to avoid further confrontation.

“ You ever been in love, cowboy? ” Paloma's sudden question feels like a punch in the gut, catching him off guard.

He stumbles over his words, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in conversation. “ I–– sorry, how did we go from that, ” he gestures vaguely to their previous discussion, “ to this? ”

“ By changing the subject. I'm just curious. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, ” she replies nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as she crumples up her napkin and tosses all her trash into the takeaway bag.

Javier pokes his tongue against his cheek, contemplating her question for a moment before reaching for the cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jacket. What the hell, he’ll indulge her. “ Yes... no... I don't know, ” he finally answers, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag.

“ All of the above? ” Paloma tilts her head, adjusting her denim mini skirt and straightening her cropped camisole.

Javier inhales deeply before continuing. “ Before I left for Colombia, I was set to get married. ”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she leans in closer, eager for more details. “ What happened? ” she asks, her curiosity palpable as she watches him intently.

The Javier Peña, known for his charismatic ways and romantic escapades, suddenly bound to one woman in the most profound display of commitment. Oh, she's intrigued beyond measure.

“ Couldn’t go through with it. I thought I loved her, Lorraine, but then I realized that I just loved the idea of her. Couldn’t see myself spending the rest of my life at her side so I spared her all the bullshit and drama and just left… ” He cringes slightly, flicking off some ash. “ Left her at the altar the day of the wedding. Drove straight past the chapel and to the airport. Flew to Quantico for training and a few months later I was in Colombia. ”

She listens intently, her heart aching with empathy for the man who stands before her, baring his soul in a rare moment of vulnerability.

Javier's story hangs heavy in the air, each word weighed down by the weight of his past. The ember of his cigarette glows in the darkness, casting shadows across his face as he speaks.

Paloma's mind races with a flood of emotions. She recalls her own brush with heartbreak, the sting of abandonment still fresh in her memory. The parallels between their experiences are both eerie and comforting.

“ So you were her George, ” She murmurs, her voice soft with understanding.

Javier nods, his expression a mix of regret and resignation. "Yeah. I guess. When you told me what you had gone through that night, I felt so bad. I still do. Me and Lorraine have talked things out since. She’s actually married now. Has two kids and a loving husband. He was able to give her all the things I knew I couldn’t. ”

“ It's funny how life works out, ” Paloma muses, her voice carrying a hint of empathy. “ You both found what you needed in the end, I suppose. ”

Javier nods, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipates into the night air. “ Yeah, I guess so. ”

They fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of the shared revelations hanging between them. It's moments like these that reveal the depth of their connection, beyond the surface banter and flirtation.

“ And after Lorraine? Was there anyone else you fell for? A lover in Colombia? ”

Her name echoes in his mind like a haunting melody, each syllable laced with memories of their tangled past. Helena . Their relationship had begun as nothing more than a transaction, a simple exchange of information for physical intimacy. But as time passed, their bond deepened, evolving into something he never expected.

Helena had been different from the others, a beacon of light in the darkness of his days in Colombia. She listened to him, truly listened, offering comfort and understanding when the weight of his job threatened to crush him. In her arms, he found refuge from the storm raging within him, a sanctuary where he could lay bare his soul without fear of judgment.

But their idyllic bubble was shattered by the harsh realities of their world. The fallout from the Gacha debacle had left Helena broken and vulnerable, a stark reminder of the dangers they faced every day. Javier wrestles with his feelings for her, torn between his duty and his desire to protect her. Yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn't shield her from the horrors that awaited her.

As he recalls their tumultuous journey together, Javier is plagued by a sense of guilt and regret. He had failed her, failed to keep her safe from the darkness that had consumed the country. And now, her name serves as a painful reminder of his shortcomings, haunting him like a ghost from his past.

“ No. Just a long string of meaningless sex. Didn’t have the time or energy to date anyone. The job was too demanding for it. ”

Paloma reaches out tentatively, resting a hand on Javier's arm. " Well… Thanks for sharing with me. I know how difficult it can be to open up like that, ” She says softly, flashing him a small smile.

He meets her gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “ Of course, hermosa . ”

As she straightens up from leaning against his cruiser, a soft sigh escapes her lips, carrying with it a hint of resignation. “ I think I'm ready to sneak back in now. ”

Javier nods in acknowledgment as he takes a final drag of his cigarette. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he crushes the butt under the sole of his boot. “ Right. We'll keep this night between the two of us, yeah? ”

She responds with a nod, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. She gets back in the car, ready to get into her bed.

Javier starts the engine, the soft purr of the car's motor blending with the nocturnal symphony of crickets and cicadas. As they roll down the driveway, he keeps the lights off, wary of getting caught.

It’s not the first time he’s had to sneak a girl back home.

Just as they near the end of the driveway, she curses softly, a sudden realization dawning upon her. Slapping her palm against her forehead, she lets out an exasperated sigh, prompting Javier to glance at her quizzically.

“ What’s wrong? ”

“ I need the ladder to get back upstairs. The lattice fence broke when I snuck out earlier. ” She completely forgot about the mishap, it had almost woken her father up.

“ Do you need help getting it? ”

“ … Yeah. If you don’t mind. ”

So they sneak around to the backyard, the metallic finish of the elongated ladder gleaming beneath the growing grass that surrounds it. It reminds Paloma that she needs to mow the lawn soon.

As she bends down to grab it, she feels a sudden, unexpected sensation slithering against her leg. Panic rises within her, her muscles tensing in preparation to let out a guttural scream, but before any sound can escape her lips–– a strong hand clamps over her mouth, muffling any noise.

She freezes, heart pounding in her chest, as she glances wide-eyed at Javier.

“ It’s just a garden snake, nena , it’s not going to hurt you. ”

A soft glow then spills from inside the house, casting long shadows across the backyard.

Paloma's heart leaps into her throat, her pulse quickening as she envisions her father stepping out onto the porch, his stern gaze piercing through the darkness.

With a sense of urgency, Javier gently pulls her back into the comforting embrace of the shadows, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of their clandestine escapade.

Their bodies press close together as they hold their breath, hoping to remain unseen.

Her lips are still pressed against his palm while the other hand has a firm hold on her hip. His thumb instinctively traces slow, soothing circles against her skin. It fires up every nerve of her body.

After what seems like an eternity, a soft, distant sound of a flush is heard, followed by a click as the light flickers off.

In unison, they both release the tension they had been holding, his hand gently sliding away from her face as she exhales deeply.

Neither of them attempt to move for a split second, and it’s not until she pulls away that he’s brought back down to Earth.

“ Fuck –– that was close. ”

An electric tension crackles between them, infusing every movement with a heady rush of anticipation. Wordlessly, they resume their task, the air thick with desire and apprehension.

Each touch, each shared glance, sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through their veins, teetering on the precipice of control.

It's a delicate dance, their bodies moving in silent harmony, teeming with an unspoken longing that threatens to overflow, begging to be unleashed in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Once Javier is sure that the ladder is steady enough for her to climb, he takes a step back to make room for her.

“ Alright, princesa , up the tower you go. ”

She doesn’t say anything, her gaze remains fixed on him, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them before she begins her ascent up the ladder, her back to him.

She makes it up a few steps before she stops and turns to face him fully.

In a bold move, Paloma reaches out, her fingertips delicately curling around the collar of his jacket. With a gentle tug, she draws him closer, her lips meeting his in a fervent kiss.

Caught off guard, he momentarily freezes, but the warmth of her touch and the intensity of her kiss quickly erases any hesitation. In an instant, they're lost in each other, their lips moving with a fiery urgency, igniting the flame that has been smoldering between them.

Everything else fades away, leaving only the two of them lost in a sea of passion and desire. With each kiss, they explore each other's mouths. Licking, sucking, biting; it’s better than anything either of them could have ever imagined.

She can't help but moan softly into his mouth at the way his hands move over her body. Every caress feels like a promise of pleasure to come, and she surrenders completely to Javier.

His muscles tense as he pulls her closer, his touch becoming more urgent. His fingers trace her curves, lingering on the places that make her gasp with pleasure. She can't help but arch her back, pressing herself even closer to him, desperate for more.

As their bodies meld together, there is sense of completion that they’ve never experienced before. It's as if they were always meant to be together, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

Reluctantly, she pulls back first leaving him yearning for more as he reaches out, chasing after her lips.

Their fervent kisses have left his mouth slightly swollen and lips glistening, adorned with remnants of her saliva, evidence of the passion with which they had indulged in each other.

Her eyes are swimming with lust as she brushes some of his hair to the side, “ I had to, ” she whispers softly, her voice barely above a murmur; filled with affection and sincerity, “ just once. ”

Her words carry a weight of longing and vulnerability, a confession of the depth of her emotions for him.

“ Buenas noches , Javi. ”

He's so bossy, He makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip And just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy, But he's such a man. He knows just what it does When he's holding me tight And he calls me "Moonlight" too.

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