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targaryenrealnessdarling · 6 months

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A Perfect Score - Epilogue | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: months have passed since the finals with no sign of Aemond, making you wonder if anything has changed | Word Count: 6k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: p in v sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, praise, *a finger in the bum*, butt play, ass eating, orgasm denial, creampie, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping

A/N: *don't get emosh, don't get emosh, don't get emosh* I can't believe it's really REALLY the end! I've had this idea for the Epilogue for AGES and can't wait for you all to read the last instalment of our figure skating couple <3 would die for them and hope you enjoy!

"Good, but bend your knees!" You shout to El who's still got her hands outstretched haphazardly, wobbling on the ice as others whizz past her, knocking her off balance.

She throws a middle finger.

Charming.

You laugh as she pushes off to do another lap, reaching down between your legs for the bag and pulling your phone out for any new texts.

Nothing, you sigh.

El makes you jump, bumping into the ledge, "Will you stop being a simp and checking your phone every two seconds? He's going to text you!"

You click your phone off, "I know. I'm just so impatientttt…" you whine, exaggerating your frustration.

El rolls her eyes, "He'll get in, bud"

"Ew, don't call me that"

"Besides, if he gets rejected, he could always be your new manager, pal" she grins.

"You're so fucking gross, you know that?"

She shrugs, a grin that spells victory, "that'd be kinda hot to be fair. Going everywhere with you to competitions, organising your hotel rooms, fucking you over his des-"

"El! For fucks sake" you whisper-shout, heat rising to your cheeks.

A few other skaters on the ice turn their heads in judgment, making your face burn with embarrassment.

"Gods, so uptight" El jokes, a mischievous grin on her face.

To tell the truth. You missed Aemond. In all aspects.

You hadn't had sex since being in Dorne. And you hadn't seen him since the hospital.

Even though you texted most days, after months of seeing him everyday, it was quite the shock to the system.

It felt like there was a hole, conveniently Aemond-shaped, that was deepening the longer you two were separated.

"Oof!"

You both look up, to see Floris on the ice, wobbling her way back onto her feet, grimacing, "I'm ok!" She reassures, pushing off to skate slowly.

You nod in Floris' direction, "Is she okay skating?"

"Yeah, the physiotherapist said it'd be good to get her doing things like this again" El replies, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

She turns back to you, "Your manager doesn't hang around here anymore. Not since Floris has started coming back".

You resist the urge to frown.

Coward.

“Got you”, El smirks mischievously, "will you tell me what happened one day?"

It was something you’d thought about for some time. To tell her, or not? Floris certainly didn’t know the deeper details, but you knew she would have had suspicions.

Aemond was obviously unbothered if such information circulated, having put a very large proverbial wall between him and Otto the moment he was discharged from hospital. And yet, it still wouldn’t feel right, airing out all the Targaryen dirty laundry like that.

Even if he said it was okay.

But maybe, on a deeper level, Floris and El at least, deserved the truth.

"One day" you promise.

The cold winter chill nips at your bones, even through the layers of thermal clothing you've got piled on, the thick socks, boots and an overcoat, it still feels positively freezing.

“Who are you texting, missy?” you tease, bumping El on the shoulder, shoving your hands into your thick coat pockets.

She flushes, from the weather or the embarrassment you are unsure, but she puts her phone away quickly, “Nobody, you nosy cow”

King's Landing Winter Wonderland, Christmas Market and trinket shops, though it's far too early for any of that, it gets the people into the spirit. Stalls line the market square with several of them selling holiday related items as well as food, with an ice rink circling the entirety of the perimeter.

The air smells of mulled wine, cooked meats and the laughter of families and couples alike. With their warm breath creating clouds of white with each exhale.

El has you excitedly tucked into her arm, telling you all about her newest boyfriend, who for all intents and purposes is both hot and a keeper.

Ah, so that’s who she was talking to.

"He's already talking about us moving in together! Before the end of the year" She says excitedly, but her face falls, "but…I don't want to leave you in the lurch paying the rent by yourself".

You scoff, "I won't take you away from good dick because of fucking rent" you smirk, "if you want to, go for it".

She arches her eyebrows in uncertainty, "You sure?"

You pat her gloved hand with yours, "very", you smile, "as long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I want the lowdown".

"Oh you'll get that alright", she laughs.

Having poked your heads into a few stalls, and several sips of mulled wine later, you smirk as El is glued to her phone. Again.

"That your man?" You ask.

She quickly puts it away, biting her lip, "Yup" she replies, "wanna go skating?"

You roll your eyes, "It's not like it's my fucking job, El. Sick of it".

"Oh come on! I won't have to use the kids stabilisers anymore!"

She gives you her wide, puppy-like eyes.

Ones you know you can't refuse.

"Fine" you sigh.

She is far too excited to say that literally a few hours before she was struggling to use her two flippers to stay upright on the rink. Nevermind going backwards.

It’s quite entertaining to see her drag you by the hand excitedly to the ticket gate.

“One ticket for skating, please! Size 5!” she beams at the receptionist, who looks like he’d rather be dead right now.

You furrow your brows, “One? Did you want to go on by yourself and I watch or-”

“Nope! Just you” she grins.

“Me? El, what in seven hells are you on abou-”

She shoves the skates into your hands and practically pushes you past the gate, waving you off, “no questions!”

You don’t even really have time to cuss her out/question the situation, it feels like your brain is in overdrive.

There, either hand leaning against the entrance to the ice rink, where the public are zipping around slowly, laughing, pink in the face, hand in hand, is Aemond. The familiar ribbons of platinum hair that have fallen from the hair tie, now slightly waved from the moisture in the air, sways with the breeze at his shoulders.

He has that slack smirk on his face, his tall broad form leaning on one side, ankles crossed with the low quality skates on, tapping the tip onto the ice.

Even in a heavy looking coat, his hair messily done up and pink cheeks from where the cold had been hitting them, he still looks every bit as handsome as you remembered him.

It makes your heart sigh to see him smile at you with that glimmer in his eye. Blinking slowly and admiringly at you.

"Hey, Princess", he greets warmly.

You almost drop the skates in your hands, the cold wisps of wind making you realise now that your eyes are all wet.

You're sure his name slips out before you crash into his arms, flinging yours around his neck.

He smells just like he used to.

And all those good memories just flood back at once, making that wetness behind your eyes form actual teardrops that line your cheeks.

You feel him laugh a little, one of his big hands on your back, "missed me then?", he prods in a smooth tone.

Fuck. His voice.

You didn't realise you'd missed hearing it so much.

When you pull away, to properly look at his face, he's still smiling, in that classic 'Aemond' way.

You're so engrossed with just looking at him, you nearly flinch when you feel his thumb wipe your under eye softly, wiping the moisture away.

His gaze softens, "don't cry. I don't look that bad, do I?"

Giving a watery laugh, you shake your head, "Just missed you".

His hand is still around your waist, inadvertently pulling you close to him so your hands hover over his chest, "Now, now, don't get all soft on me".

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"How?.."

Aemond gestures with his head, "El organised it".

"But…she's-"

"With her new boyfriend, don't worry. It's just us, princess" Aemond smiles, picking up the skates you'd dropped.

"For old time's sake?" He smiles.

And all you can do is blush and smile up at him like a little lovesick teenager.

It feels utterly strange to get back on the ice with Aemond again, even if it is a public one in the middle of a Christmas market. Even more so that he's not flinging you around in all sorts of twists and jumps.

But it feels nice.

Hand in gloved hand, you glide about together, catching up.

Alicent, you learn, has gotten back in touch with her long time friend. Aemond furrows his brows when he recollects that usually she's on facetime with a glass of Dornish Red in one hand and creasing up in front of her iPad at something her friend has said.

Aegon. Well, he's Aegon. Aemond's words, not yours. But he's working on getting a teaching qualification so that he can coach skating instead. It's nice that he was able to find something to use his skills for. Other than womanising.

"Had minor surgery on my nerves…they think it'll do the trick for some years, hopefully forever" he says as you weave on either foot.

"Well that's good" you smile, "does it feel better?"

He nods, "Oh and Hel has a new partner".

You look over quickly, one eyebrow poised, "And? Was I right?"

Smirking, Aemond has to resist the urge to roll his eye, "Yes, you were right".

"Yes! I knew it! I knew she was bi!"

You flush when some families around you look over when you shout it a bit too loud.

Oops.

Aemond tugs you to his side by your waist, humming in a kind of quiet laugh. A comfortable silence descends, just enjoying one another's company.

"I got in", he says suddenly. Stealing your attention again as your feet synchronise in short glides.

"Got in?"

"KLU".

"KLU? Oh my god-" you surge up, his face between your hands, but he doesn't complain, and kiss him fiercely, "Congratulations, Aemond. Oh my gosh, that's-"

You beam with pride.

And you can tell he genuinely loves it, by the way he blushes slightly.

"And" he goes on, his face close to yours, smirking at the confused look on your face.

"And?..."

He licks his lips before he speaks.

"I got a place" he adds, "and was wondering…if you…"

He trails off. And your face settles into realisation. Your heart hammering in your chest, like the engine of an old train.

He shrugs, clearing his throat, “You know, because we basically spent all our time together during the championships…”

You swallow thickly, "Really?..." it comes out weaker than you intended.

He nods, “It’s just out of town, not far from here really” he gestures in the vague direction with his head, the hand that’s resting at your waist dropping somewhat.

Blinking the emotion from your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Alright, Mr Moneybags”

He doesn’t laugh, like you expect him to, but he does smile at least. At this point, you seem to have come to a stop, your skates nestled between his to keep you both stable.

His darkened gaze just looks at your face. Studies it.

Like he’s opened a book and is reading through the pages.

When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but feel a flutter deep in your chest. It feels like he is drawing on you softly, like a thousand little butterflies have landed on your face, and are slowly opening and closing their wings.

You shudder when his warm, ungloved thumb brushes against your cheek.

“What?...” you smile at him affectionately.

He hums, a cloud escaping his lips as he speaks, “I’ve missed you”.

All you feel is the ledge of the ice rink press against your lower back and yours and Aemond’s noses brushing against one another as he presses his warm, comforting lips to yours.

He takes his time, moving languidly against your lips with a soft, wet beat, his tongue parting your lips as if he had been waiting all this time to taste you properly.

He tastes just as you remember.

A hint of cigarettes that he’s tried to hide with spearmint.

When you break away, you can’t ignore the warm feeling that blooms in your gut. In all the time you’d spent apart, you forgot how his lips felt on yours, how his hands felt on you, and how his mere presence around you made arousal creep up your thighs.

Gods, it’s been so long.

A blush creeps up your neck to your face, and Aemond smirks.

“Stop that”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth before you reply, “What?”

He leans against the ledge, caging you in with his own body.

“Blushing”

His voice lowers.

“Otherwise I’ll give you something to blush about”

The tension was thick as you and Aemond trudged through the Christmas Market after vacating the ice rink. You tried to lighten it by doing idle things like looking at the homemade ornaments on one stand, to sharing a cup of mulled wine between you, feeling the way the liquid warmed your insides.

That warmth was nothing compared to the way Aemond looked at you.

It reminded you of all those months ago, at the hotel, before the dynamic of your relationship changed. The way he used to stare at you from across the room, in what you wrongly thought at the time was out of disinterest and detest.

How wrong you were.

Shooting off a quick text to El, who you were sure was already back at the flat anyway, enjoying all the ‘assets’ of her new boyfriend, you walk hand in hand with Aemond back to his apartment.

He was very intent on showing you his new place. And your insides fluttered in anticipation, heat crawling up your neck.

His apartment was nice. Not that you expected any less. It was several floors high, showing a good view of King’s Landing and the bright, illuminated Christmas Market in the square below. Even from here, through the tall and wide windows of the living room, you could see the couples zipping around the ice rink, as you both were just a few moments before.

It had that ‘new apartment’ smell, but whenever you brushed past a coat of his or a blanket, it smelled like him. The walls were bare, but you were sure that Aemond would decorate when he was properly settled.

“Is Vhagar going to be coming here?” you ask, cupping the warm mug of tea in your hands as Aemond gives it to you.

“Maybe. She’s quite settled at Mum’s though so…I don’t want to make her anxious”.

You nod, “It’s a nice place”

“Will look even better when you’re here” he smirks, bending down to huff himself onto the sofa, “I’m sure you have better ideas than I do on interior design”.

You simply watch him for a moment, the warmth of his apartment making your previously cold hands feel prickly. Your fingers tap against the ceramic, the sound of Aemond’s playlist rumbling quietly from a speaker in a different room.

Placing the mug on the coffee table, Aemond exhales as your legs rest either side of his torso, moving to sit atop him with your hands stealing beneath his shirt, watching as his pink lips part for breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess” he murmurs against your lips as he leans up, his large hands squeezing your ass, moulding the flesh to his grip and eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

"Who says it's a game?" You whisper back, teasing him by brushing your lips against his, moving your hips on him and smiling when you feel him harden instantly.

" - fuck - "

You know he hates it, just hates it, when you smirk at how pent up and desperate he gets. But you just can't help it. Not only is it all too easy, it's just too fucking tempting too.

How easily such a large, overbearing and domineering man, can be subdued to a mewling, near-begging mess just by the soft movement of your hips.

"Baby, please -"

Reaching down between your bodies, Aemond outright moans when you palm his erection through his jeans, sitting against his thigh quite obviously. You tease your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing through the denim, seeing the way Aemond almost knits his brows together in barely-contained pleasure.

And any time he tries to reach up, to kiss you properly, you pull back, allowing him to chase you.

"Oh, fuck you-"

You yelp in surprise as Aemond lifts you, keeping your legs around his waist as he pushes his bedroom door open and dropping you onto his mattress. And before you even have a moment to sit up on your elbows, he's on you, kneeing your legs apart and caging you to the bed with his body.

"Can't fucking wait any longer - need you, baby-"

Fuck, even the way he says that has arousal pooling between your legs, the desire to push your thighs together strong, but weakened with Aemond's body keeping them apart.

He's so fast and rough, the way he unbuttons your jeans and pulls the denim down your legs, taking your underwear with it, that you feel for a moment he may have torn something.

He practically fucking growls when he he looks between you, his thumb teasing your clit, finally able to look upon you the way he's wanted to for months.

"Already soaked for me, aren't you?" He coos lowly, teasing your bud in sure, confident circles, before swatting your heat firmly with a wet smack, "such a good fucking slut for me".

You mewl, pressing your lips together, a flush enveloping your face at his words. It's been so long since you were intimate with him, it will take a few moments to get used to it again and fall into that rhythm.

That, and you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the realisation you've not shaved your legs, genuinely not having expected to see him today.

It doesn't seem like Aemond cares.

With a fist over the collar of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, showing his lean and well-muscled torso lit with a warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.

You jolt in surprise as his fingers pull you by your thighs further down the bed, a gasp flying past your lips as his tongue and teeth nip and kiss at the inside of them. The sensation bordering on pain and pleasure at the same time.

"You don't know how long I've waited to taste your sweet pussy, princess"

You have an idea, by the way Aemond mouths at the crease between your thigh and hip. But you don't say it out loud. The anticipation of his mouth so, so close without touching you where you need him most is agonising.

" - fuck - Aemond -"

Your back nearly arches off the bed as he flattens his tongue against your warmth, swirling around your clit first before diving into your folds to feast on you, his fingers digging into your flesh for leverage. The feeling of his grip into your flesh burns pleasantly as he tugs you towards him, your lips parting with hurried pants tumbling out.

Your legs tremble as his low moan vibrates through your core, electricity creeping up your spine as he laps at you with vigour, his sharp nose nudging at your clit as he moves side to side to eventually fuck you with his tongue.

For a split second, you worry if he can actually breathe.

But as your embarrassingly quick orgasm starts barrelling towards you without warning, it somehow gets pushed to the back of your mind, you reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, chanting his name as if it’s all you can say as he groans against your cunt.

His hands hold you down by your thighs, tugging you back to his mouth in soft micro-movements as you shake against him, head thrown back against the pillows with your breath hot in your chest, unable to catch it well enough to form any other sound than moaning unabashedly.

Aemond outright moans as you cum against his tongue, the lewd sound of him licking up everything that comes out makes a heat creep up your neck. But you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he makes you feel like this.

You can feel the moisture on his face when he takes mercy, drawing his lips away to kiss and nip at the inside of your thighs again, giving one firm bite before he pulls away with a smirk on his face, no doubt happy at the mark he’s left behind.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lift your gaze to him, now perched on his knees as he pops the buttons of his jeans off, the veins on the back of his hand straining, making you feel somewhat lightheaded.

“ - can’t wait to fuck you again - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted be buried inside that pretty little pussy -”

You lick your lips as your mouth goes dry. He always manages to do that. Somehow turn you into a limp, mewling mess in no time at all.

Something you have in common, clearly.

With your heart beating erratically, body throbbing in the afterglow of your orgasm, that feeling is enhanced still when Aemond tugs at his length needily, his shoulders rising and falling with the desire to just stuff himself inside you as deep as he will go.

You can only watch in awe as his fingers wrap around himself, the tip ruddy and desperate, with arousal coating it with every slow and calculated fist. His stomach muscles clench and unclench uncontrollably, his chest muscles moving steadily with each deep breath.

It feels exciting, how utterly small you feel when he leans over you, once again grasping your legs to spread them before him. His long, thick fingers tease your slick folds, before he guides the fat head of his cock to your centre, watching with parted lips at the way your eyebrows furrow in both relief and pleasure as he stretches you around him slowly.

“ - ohfuck - ”, he moans lowly, sinking himself slowly into your warmth and basking in the closeness it offers, “ - fuck, baby, so tight for me -”

Being with him like this again is like sinking into a warm bath, with the rolls of steam batting at your face. And his words are so soft, they’re like dozens of little snowflakes settling on your face in a flurry. All cold and numb, and yet warm and fuzzy at the same time.

It’s completely instinctual, the way you turn your head, slightly embarrassed as Aemond holds either of your legs apart, his pelvis smacking against yours as he eases himself into a steady rhythm.

“ -aw, don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy on me -” he mocks, his eye glimmering with mischief as he looks down at you, “-where’s the needy, little slut I used to know, hm? -”

You gasp as Aemond pushes both hands down, pressing both of your legs towards your shoulders, bending at the knee so that he can kneel higher, using the new position with gravity to fuck down into you faster and rougher.

The new position has you pretzeled before him, completely unable to do anything but throw your head back against the pillows and turn bright red at the wanton, breathy moans that slip out.

“ -Aemond -”

“ - what’s wrong, baby? -” he coos, “ -is this too much for you? Hm? I know you’re more flexible than this -”

Fuck.

Each rough push of his length into you from this angle has the curved head of his cock brush against your sweet spot with devastating precision. With every thrust, the air seems to expel forcefully from your lungs, not helped in part by the fact that Aemond has your legs pressed hard against your ribs.

All you’re able to see through bleary eyes is the way he smirks down at you with his hair stuck to his tacky face, his chest heaving with hurried breath, and every now and then, his neck muscles straining as he tips his head back and groans loudly as you inadvertently squeeze his length when he bullies the end of you.

The air is charged, hot and humid. And you barely register the fact that music is still playing in another room, and that the curtains are pulled back. Though there’s no chance of anyone being able to see you both from how high his apartment is, it still makes your insides tighten that it’s happening so unabashedly with the city right below you.

His hand drifts down your thigh, watching as you squirm beneath him as he presses hard on your stomach, your eyes closing tightly at the feeling of him closing you around his length as it pistons roughly into you. He smiles slightly, almost as if he can feel how deep he reaches inside you.

“ -Oh fuck, baby - can fucking feel you gripping me -” he moans helplessly, leaning over, the sweat on his forehead slightly illuminated by the warm lamp’s light, “-does my girl like being a dirty little slut?”

You barely even register he’s speaking, everything sounding utterly muffled and just too much all at once. His low voice only serves to make that coil wind tighter in your gut, reacting to the way he never lets up his pace once.

You jolt slightly when he taps your cheek twice, a little rougher than you’d anticipated.

“ -I’m fucking talking to you -” he growls, moving his hand from your stomach up to bunch the shirt in his fist, exposing your pebbled nipples to the warmth of the room.

You nod helplessly, “Yes - yes -”

It’s all mindless babbling, and Aemond knows it as he grins, his eye flitting down to watch the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“ -please, Aemond -”

“ -please what, hm? You want to cum, is that it? But you’re too fucked stupid to say it?”

As much as you hate to admit it, his words send a bolt of humiliation through you that does nothing but excite you, your core throbbing around his length with every calculated word he says.

"Aw, poor thing -" he jeers, "- I'm going to have fun with you-"

Wait what?

This isn't said 'fun'?

Oh shit.

Before that familiar coil can wind itself any tighter, Aemond pulls back, grunting as he manhandles your hips to turn you over and his palm cracking against your backside, smirking in victory at the mewl it gets out of you.

The skin there blooms with warmth, more so as Aemond’s tantalisingly hot skin presses against it once more, your lips parting in what can only described as a relieved moan as he slides into you again, his cockhead hitting the spongey end, filling you utterly.

"-Aemo-"

Smack.

"Not my fucking name, Princess. C'mon, you can do it" he purred, pressing his hand against your back, pushing against your spine and forcing your face against the sheets.

A choked moan almost slips out, with him tugging your hips up to him in such a curved position, his cockhead bullies your sweet spot, dragging his length along your sensitive walls, propelling you to an overwhelming orgasm.

"Go on - beg me for it or I won't let you cum-"

The idea of him denying you yet again when you were so close last time just seems utterly unbearable. So despite the humiliation rocking through your core with each harsh smack of his hips, despite the overwhelming heat of the room and most of all, despite your pride.

You do.

"Please - daddy - need it-"

If you could see him, you'd hate it.

Because he grins. Ear to fucking ear like he's wanted to hear it for months.

"Aren't you gonna beg me for permission to touch yourself?"

You suck in a breath, squealing muffled against the sheets as he gives another hard thrust. Clearly, despite appearances, on the verge himself.

"-can I - can I touch myself - please, daddy -"

"-fuck- baby, touch that little clit for me, yeah? - want to feel you cum-"

His voice is strained, pushing you with each thrust further and further against the sheets, your arms near giving out with the weight of him on you. With difficulty, your hand snakes between you and the mattress that constantly dips with how rough Aemond is being, and finds your bud, running the slickness that has collected over it, tying up your pleasure into two feelings.

Aemond’s lips part, staggered breaths the only thing coming out, as he feels your walls flutter around him, looking down at the way your bodies meet with a soft smack every time. You feel so warm and tight, gods he’s wanted to cum since since you started touching him through his jeans.

But now, pulling you by your hips to spear you onto his cock, he’s so so close.

Just wants to feel you first.

“-baby, you’re doing so well for me-” he breathes quickly, his gaze flitting briefly from where he’s pistoning in and out of you, to your sweat slick face, pressed against the sheets, biting your lips harshly as you pleasure yourself in tandem with Aemond’s movements.

As his hand slid down past your hips, his thumb tracing the bottom of your spine, you suck in a harsh breath when he softly grazes over your puckered hole, still fucking shallowly as if to tease you and him into teetering on the edge of a climax.

You're barely able to see behind you, pressed so hard into the sheets, but he looks good fucking you. His chest shines with perspiration, the chain dangling around his neck teasingly, and his abdominal muscles clenching and unclenching with restraint.

And then you see him smile.

"-oh? We've never done this before have we, princess?-"

Oh shit.

After all the exertion of your passion so far, your slick has easily made its way onto your thighs, so Aemond doesn't have to move much to drag some of it on his thumb and circle your hole with light, delicate motions, moistening the area.

Humiliation creeps up onto your face, eyes slipping shut. No guy before has ever really tried to do this. So this is uncharted territory. But despite the brief embarrassment, you have to admit that the feeling of Aemond ever so slightly pressing his thumb against you as he continues to thrust brutally into your cunt just feels new in the most amazing way.

His other hand still grabs the flesh of your ass, tugging you back to his cock in a frantic rhythm. The mewls coming out your mouth now sounding so unlike your own.

Aemond knows by the way your hips move up to meet his touch that you like it, but are too embarrassed to say.

"-how about it, hm? - you want me in both your pretty little fuckholes? -"

"-yes - yes, please daddy, I-"

Making sure his thumb is slick enough, your puckered hole also, he slides in slowly, using the palm of his hand to grasp whatever of your ass cheeks as he can.

You almost hear his choked moan.

"-fuck-, you're so tight here, princess - you gonna let me fuck it one day, hm? - you'd be so fucking good here-"

The batting of his cock against your upper walls has you very nearly sobbing outwardly, combined with the feeling of him in such a new place, pressing in, you'd forgotten you'd stopped pleasuring yourself. Completely embroiled in this feeling.

He chuckles darkly, crooking the digit ever so slightly, leaning over to press against your back "-you'd fucking let me as well, wouldn't you? -"

The curling of his other fingers on the flesh of your backside has him smiling at the sounds it emits from you.

“-did I say stop, hm? Keep touching yourself - cum for me-”

You know that as soon as you do it’s all over.

His voice, combined with all three feelings at once, tugging at that pleasurable spot inside you that has white, hot pleasure soaring through your bloodstream, has a long, choked moan filling the space between you. And you’re surprised to hear that the same sound slips past Aemond’s lips as well, the air of his breath batting against your neck as he tries to bury himself as deep inside you as he possibly can.

You’re trying to suck in breath without really realising it, the earth-shattering orgasm making your body go all rigid for a moment before you relax against the sheets, with the pleasant weight of him above you.

Everything feels warm. His bedroom right now feeling like a large blanket has enveloped you both. It seems a weird thing to think in the moment, with Aemond’s half naked body hunched over you, his cock twitching and pulsing, whimpering as he is still emptying himself inside of you and feeling the aftershocks through your fleshy walls.

All his micro-movements seem overly-sensitive. And when Aemond exhales, lifting himself off your back, lifting your lids to open your eyes feels like the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“-sorry-” he whispers cautiously as he pulls his softening cock from you, immediately feeling the warm rush of cum coating your inner thighs.

Warmth blossoms once again to your cheeks as he stays still, and you think he must be staring at the way he leaks from you, sighing in a sort of perverted admiration.

You don’t even have time to open your mouth before his thumb slips out your other hole, only to jolt in shock once it’s immediately replaced by his tongue. All those dulled out endorphins that were dissipating into your limbs feel like they all gather back, and you squeeze your thighs together, fisting the bedsheets so tightly they could’ve torn.

Both of his hands seem to find their home on each asscheek, spreading them so he can easily swirl his talented wet, muscle around your hole, fucking moaning as he does it. All your nerves ring semi-uncomfortably, overstimulation nipping at the edges of the pleasure.

“-fuck, Aemond, no no, please-” you plead, emitting a weary, exhausted laugh when he chuckles and pulls away, landing one softened smack against the flesh.

“-Mm- another time-”

Lethargy pulls at your body as you lay on your front, blinking slowly as you feel the mattress rise, pressing your lips together as Aemond disappears into the en-suite, tucking himself back into his jeans.

A moment later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, offering to clean you up. But you simply smile, pushing yourself to sit up, “I’m good”, you smile, with a flushed face, feeling slightly bashful after what you’d just done together.

One long shower together later, you lay in his bed, looking out at the city beneath, the cascade of brightly coloured lights littering the dark space between buildings. Aemond’s shirt easily reaches to your thighs, with nothing beneath, not having anticipated staying over anywhere today.

Aemond sighs calmly, his chin on the top of your head, pressed against your back, with one of his hands running through the tresses of your hair, every now and then stroking at your scalp, which has your eyes slipping shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Well, princess? Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all soft and tired.

You meet his lilac gaze, tilting your head slightly in question.

“The apartment”.

“It’s perfect”, you smile, reaching up his cheek and running the back of your fingers over it, the scar tissue feeling slightly different in texture over your skin, “you sure you want me to move in?”

He blinks slowly, a smile rising to his lips, his hand coming to yours and pressing a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. And though not directly sexual, it makes your belly do little backflips, feeling so intimate and captivating that warmth floods your skin through his lips.

“Of course, princess. I can't do this without you”.

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

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towards-toramunda · 8 months

Text

Thinking about more iconic lines from the show over the years instead of going to bed and created a list that is far too long:

- What’s my mother’s name?

- My best. Finally.

- I have so many flowers to bring to her.

- You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it.

- Don’t get on my ass about it! All I heard is that its pretty easy to do here thats all I took from what you said. (Bonus: its for the god of arts and crafts)

- At dawn, we plan.

- Doo doot doo doo doot doooo donuts!

- What matters more, the dream or the dreamer?

- Sleep well with your bad decisions.

- Nothing happens for a reason. It’s absolute fucking chaos.

- Patience is fine, but it can curdle into apathy.

- I’ve met the devil, thats not him.

- You never take copper. That's just kicking someone while they're down. You take silver if they're an asshole, and you take gold regardless.

- Time is one of my specialties.

- It’s entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are.

- How lucky I am to have had all of you. How lucky indeed.

- I smell like a crayon.

- I could tell by the bone structure and the contempt.

- I think I can punch ghosts now.

- Big moon, little moon.

- Pop, pop!

- I need chaos. I have faith in chaos.

- Molly said not to steal from happy people.

- I am going to tell you the story of how I murdered my mother and father.

- Smiley day to ya!

- I killed my family, I’ll throw you under a bridge.

- We’re on the moon bitch.

- She throws it. I shoot it. It explodes! NO STRUCTURAL DAMAGE! (FLUFFERNUTTER)

- I am all for faith, and I'm not going to pick a god. They can pick me. It'll be the first one that actually praises me and then maybe I'll fucking answer. I'll wait. They can fucking beg. And I will listen, which is more than they ever fucking did.

- I would like to RAGE!

- The worst thing that has happened to me has already happened.

- We're running; it's bad.

- You can reply to this message.

- Dagger, dagger, dagger.

- Opinions are like opera. Sure, you can listen to them, but why would you, really?

- There is no god that strides this world that I worship more than I worship your heart.

- I would like to live long enough to be someone else.

- Help, its again.

- Whoever it was, just put it back. I think they've earned it. Put it back.

- I’m fun scary.

- Sorry, babe. Gotta handle these ninjas.

- I’m the cleric? I’ve never traveled with a bunch of people I thought would die in front of me.

- He thinks I’m gonna go into the water for some fucking buttons.

- You are, at the moment, the luckiest person in Whitestone. Do you know why? Because you’re at the bottom of my list.

- You need me more than I need you.

- I protect him. He’s my boy. And I keep him safe.

- I made the earth remember him.

- Come correct or get corrected.

- Do not go far from me.

- Are you worth saving?

- How do I want to do this?

- Heaven to some, and hell to others.

- Fix him!

- Why do we tell stories?

- Do you spice?

- Listen you fucking jungle! I'm a paladin of the Wildmother. You're going to move or we're going to bust you wide open! We'll wreck this place. Don't make me fucking tell you twice!

- I am your god, long may I rein, eat of my fruits.

- Anybody can make lights. Anybody could send a message through a wire. I want to bend reality to my will.

- Would you like to talk before or after?

- What the fuck is up with that?

- To reach a hand down to somebody, they need to be beneath you! And I'm beneath nobody.

- The one eyed monster slayed my pussy.

- Time is a weird soup.

- I’m killing someone. Hold, please.

- Gold is a resource by which mortaldom climbs.

- Why are you so mean to me?

- Yours is the face I saw when murder entered my heart.

- This one time I saw a bug carrying a piece of bread that was like five times its size and he was carrying upstairs, like up and then he would turn, and then up, and then he would turn.

- I live as long as Whitestone lives.

- Vox Machina! Fuck shit up!

- I’m not disappointed, I’m just angry.

- Someone prayed for a miracle and there you were.

- We don't leave people behind. That's just the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind.

- Call me child one more goddamned time!

- Finish it, Champion.

- I am of the Empire. But I am no friend to the Empire.

- I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone to mourn you when you are gone.

#critical role #cr3 #bells hells #cr2 #the mighty nein #cr1 #vox machina #there are so many good ones #by all means reblog with more keep them coming #my god taliesin has so many good ones they’re insane

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unluckilyimnot · 2 months

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Heyy! So I’m struggling with an ed at the moment and I read your headcanons where the tr boys find out reader has an ed but I was wondering if u could do that for the Bonten trio? Tyyy

s/o who has ed

Characters : Ran, Rindou, Sanzu (all Bonten)

Type : ansgt, hurt to comfort

Words count : 0.5

m.list

It’s fine, I can write about it, it’s just the same as an old one I did : I speak as a girl who experienced it in a certain way, so I’ll do my best and I don’t mean any hurt it can cause. If you’re struggling with ed we can talk about it if you feel like it, but at least don’t hesitate to talk about it. Only around people you’re safe please, I don’t want you to go through the same things as I did. You can get through it even if it’s hard (I did but I’m not cured at all)

I love you, take care of yourself and people around you, please

Ran notices how you never touch the left over, even if he put it there for you to eat. He tried multiple times, just to be sure, but every time you already ate, or you're not hungry, or not enough so you’ll just eat some fruit. He knows too well what’s going on, yet he doesn’t know how to handle it. He can’t force you to see someone, but it hurts him acknowledging all your tricks, the way you still smile in front of your food when he hears you throwing up right after.

“Why aren’t you eating ?” It’s past midnight, you’re already reading tug in your shared bed and Ran just sat beside you. You can’t process it at first, it makes you feel sick. “It’s not a crime, I imagine what it is, but I want to understand you. And help if I can. Explain it all to me. Please.”

For a few seconds you tried to doubt that you deserve a man like him, before recalling he can kill for money. He may not be the best man out there, but he is for you. He’s ready to do better and understand you without getting mad. At the thought you shed a tear, and another and before you realize it you can’t articulate a proper sentence beside telling him that you’re sorry. Deeply sorry to be like this.

“It’s not your fault, don’t be sorry. I’m here for you.”

Rindou feels that you’re smaller than you used to be, so much smaller. It’s like he hasn’t held you in a million years when it’s only been two weeks since he left. He grabbed you a little more, here and there, but you can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Let me go to Rindou..”

“You’re so small, why ? Have you eaten enough when I was gone ?” panicked rush through his veins when he sees your eyes meeting the floor, guilt creeping into both of you. He knew it, he always did. He simply thought you were doing better since he was there and after all those years struggling together. It was that simple for you to stop it and start it all again. He’s helpless and, oh so sorry but not in a way when he feels like giving up. In a way that if he had to do it all again, from the beginning for you to get better, he will.

Sanzu doesn’t eat much himself, which is not helping with his addiction but he wants you to be healthy. He doesn’t like the idea of you hurting your body more than you already have to do. So when he finally realizes all your tricks to make him believe that you're eating normally despite your showing bones he’s more sad than mad. He knows he’s nobody to talk to, he’s destroying himself little by little too, but thinking he can lose you that way made him cry on your knees. You don’t even know what to do, you’re simply sorry but without being able to promise him you’ll stop.

“Don’t leave me” he cried out, not ready to lose someone else.

“I’ll try,” you replied.

In the silence, between his cries, there’s a secret promise that both of you will try to get each other out of their way, even if they can’t even help themselves.

Fist post in years /lit a bir short excuse me but i have to get used to it again

Hope you like it ♡

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers hc #rindou imagines #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers rindou #haitani ran x reader #ran headcanons #ran x reader #sanzu imagines #sanzu x reader #sanzu hc #bonten trio #bonten trio x reader

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harasharaved · 8 months

Text

Jason Todd Fics - September 2023

Fics I recommend with a focus on or POV of Jason Todd. Masterpost can be found here.

Key: Has a ship or romantic plot, unfinished, multi-chapter, one-shot

NOTE: some of these do require an AO3 Account to read.

Whisper Closely in My Ear by Kangarou

The words went in one ear, rattled around like bees, before ramming out the other. The doctor was sitting painfully close, only two feet away. The tone of voice implied he was talking louder, not quite a yell but something nearly there; it sounded like a whisper to Jason. So quiet, with every third word unintelligible, except for that first phrase: "Mr Wayne, I'm afraid you're profoundly deaf." --- Jason is profoundly deaf. He learns to cope with it.

An AU in which Jason is deaf. This is one of my favorite Jason fics. I often find myself coming back to it. Its a great character study, introspective and has that delicious kind of hurt you just want to sit with for a while, with a helping dollop of comfort.

Children Will Listen by Parker Avenue

Jason Todd is good at extortion. He's what the adults call a snoop - nobody paid attention to the little kid with the big ears. Without even realizing, adults would hand him the keys to getting what he needed. Jason knew how to collect information, because adults found information valuable. And it was. It was free, easy to get, and easy to carry, so long as he kept his head clear and his facts straight. Jason had information Batman could use. He knew it. He had thought it over all day, sitting on that moldy couch, eating stale saltines. Batman would definitely be interested in the information Jason had. Batman had become scary again, like the old stories Jason used to hear the goons in the area tell. Breaking bones, just barely keeping people alive. Batman didn’t kill, no, but sometimes? Sometimes living was worse, maybe. Jason stayed crouched behind that dumpster, silent, because he simply couldn’t decide if Batman was far gone enough to make a kid wish he was dead. (Jason Todd knows how to get what he wants, and Batman tries to lure him to safety.)

Okay I will admit, my biggest weakness is fics about street kid Jason. Slow adoption got me good. Anyways, this one isn't finished but I love the way the pacing takes its time. Co-parents Bruce and Selina is never a con either!

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

I'm sure everyone and their mother has rec'd this fic, but I'm doing it anyways because I love it deeply. If you haven't read it, this is your sign!

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight)

“I’m being serious, asshat,” Jason hisses, swatting his hands away from his face. “You have to tell me what year it is.” Nightwing crosses his arms a little petulantly. “It’s 2017. Happy?” Jason freezes, breath catching in his throat. 2017. Five years ago. He was…he was fifteen. “Shit,” he murmurs. He’s going to eviscerate Tim. Or: Red Hood Jason and 15-year-old Jason swap timelines, landing one week before 15-year-old Jason is supposed to die.

Time travel trope + Jason Todd's tragic ass life = amazing fics. Feelings, prepare to be felt! LOTS of Angst. You might even shed a tear. Wonderful fic!

Too Much Fucking Salt by Pez_The_Platypus

A rural housewife instinctively understood the law of quantity into quality. Add a pinch of salt to a soup and it tasted better; add one pinch too many and you ruined the batch. Jason had been in limbo for a year and a half, trusting things would get better even though everything just seemed to be getting worse. It was something small that set him off, but really, it was an accumulation of a lot of things that led to this. He was going to kill the Joker.

A one shot, but a LONG one. This one is very sad, heavy, and bittersweet. Its not Bruce or Dick "bashing", it provides a pretty well rounded and human description of them, which is to say they are not angels. Still, if you love pondering the tragedy of Jason Todd and themes of coping with trauma and the inherent grating sensation of trying to heal, this is a great fic for you.

YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO KNOW DECAY by orpheusaki

Bruce starts, eyes glaring down at the city and unwilling to look anywhere else, especially in Jason's direction, "You always… hated the rain." Jason's breath gets caught in his throat. (For as long as Jason can remember, it's always been raining.)

Jason angst and character study rooted in comic-accuracy. Great short read!

This Kind of Weather by r_astra

Jason’s at school when his mom dies, and that’s the only reason any of it happens. If he’d been home, if he’d been with her, he would’ve been in the wind before anyone else even knew. Even if they looked, no one ever would’ve found him. He’d have taken to the sewers if that’s what it took, man-eating crocodile guy and all.

Yes, another Jason Todd adoption fic, one in which he does not steal the tires. I have a type and I'm limiting myself to only 2 of the many I love. This one does not have much of a focus at all on the Bat-side of things, just a story of Jason finding a home, much older than in the comics.

A Straight Blade by Sparkypants

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.

Quick one-shot with feelings. Great little read I often find myself revisiting.

Growing Like a Breeze by WhaleofaTime

April 27th isn't anyone's favorite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.

One of those fics that explains everything about why Jason and Bruce's dynamic and relationship is so magnetic to read about. They both suck at feelings and yet make me feel SO MUCH.

#Jason Todd #DC #batfam #dc comics #fic recs #I have a lot more but i think this is enough for one post #Sarah's Bullshit #this is way more fun than all the work I'm meant to be doing right now.#please enjoy! tell me if theres one you really like bc i am always down to yell about fics!

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auspicioustidings · 7 months

Text

Firewatch Part 4

Summary: You fight back and a punishment is handed out.

(Or, anytime Mhairi writes more than 3 chapters of anything we inevitably land on angst)

Word Count: 2.3k

CWs: Kidnapping, dubcon

You felt your legs give out which had the unintended but maybe welcomed result of Ghost realising he had been rutting against you and stopping with a bitten off growl, arm banded around you holding you up.

“It’s what’s best for you sweetheart” he whispered lowly into your ear. “You didn’t want to be all alone anymore, invited us to take care of you. And we will, promise we’ll take such good care of you.”

There was a numbness to you now and you tried to dig deep and find the fight. You couldn’t just give in, you refused to just give in. He was warm and sounded kind and there was a betrayal happening between your body and mind as you only barely stopped yourself from pushing back against him to chase that rutting, to try and make him move again. This was so fucked up.

You tried to bite at his hand but it was difficult with how large his palm was over your mouth. Still he squeezed your waist hard, knowing exactly what you had been attempting and scraping his teeth against your earlobe in warning.

“Don’t start with me, I bite hard.”

You whined and felt tears of humiliation from hearing that it didn’t sound entirely like a horrified whine prickle at your eyes. It sounded like a needy one.

“Oh, you’d like it wouldn’t you sweetheart? You need someone to bite hard, put you in your place a little.”

You hated him, you hated him so intensely that you got your legs back to solid beneath you through spite and then started kicking out to try and get him to loosen his grip enough to free your arms. Your entire weight plus the force of your legs wildly bucking out didn’t seem to phase him from a strength standpoint, but you felt a little satisfaction when he had to adjust his stance to stop from losing his balance.

“Knock it the fuck off.”

His tone sent a blaring siren of ‘stop’ off in your head. You hadn’t spoken at any length with this man, but you had not heard him sound like this, like some sensual predator ready to hold you down, unsure if he was going to fuck you or eat you right up. He would find that you were not meek prey. You had moved to a new town where you knew nobody, taught yourself how to do everything you needed to bring a ruin back to life. Giving up easy was not in your nature. You kept kicking.

The pain of his teeth in the juncture of your shoulder and neck that was revealed by the slouching t-shirt was white hot and knocked the air fully out of your lungs. He hadn’t been exaggerating, he bit incredibly hard, like he was trying to make sure the mark he was sucking into you went right down to bone. You thought he might rip your throat out, leave you here to bleed out, and you couldn’t even scream against his hand because you had forgotten how to breathe. You gave a few final kicks but it was a token effort to prove that he could not so easily conquer you before you settled down, chest heaving with the start of shuddering breaths as you tried to get enough air. In the fray he had hoisted you up higher, your feet no longer quite reaching the ground to leave you hanging like a ragdoll.

You didn’t even register that you could have screamed now, his hand had left your mouth and was instead gently cradling your head so he could lap at the bite, soothing. The other arm moved to gently set you down, turning you so that you could see his uncovered face. He was handsome in the tragic way a man with scars often was.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to lose my temper, shouldn’t play so rough with you should I? S’for your own good, needed you to calm down. Went all loose so pretty when you felt my teeth huh? Just what you needed” he said, a quiet and desperate ramble as he kept planting little kisses and licks at your neck.

You should stop him. You could just tell him to stop, find out if he would respect it. But it felt so nice to have his lips and tongue worshipping at the mark he had left. It felt like he was pressing prayers into your skin, reverent and gentle. Well if you were going to hell for enjoying this, may as well twist the knife. You pulled gently at his hair so you could bring his head up and press a kiss to his lips, waiting until he relaxed into the gesture and then letting yourself imagine this was any other situation so you could enjoy it for a moment before bringing your knee as hard as you could up into his groin and spilling out of the closet when he buckled.

–

There was perhaps a more elegant reaction you could have had when you found downstairs was much as it had been this morning only with the addition of Johnny. Whoever had been here was gone, the three firemen looking over at you with gentle smiles as if you had just casually come downstairs for a cup of tea. You were too late.

“Oh for fuck sake!” you yelled, not trying to get to the door.

You knew a little better now. No shoes so you weren’t outrunning anyone unless you had a significant head start. Johnny was leant by one of the windows, near enough to the door that you wouldn’t even make it out without him getting there first. He grinned and glanced out of it when you caught his eye, as if it was some big funny joke that whoever had been here was now far enough away that they couldn’t be seen through the glass. They’d probably driven over the rough tracks, probably already well out of the woods.

While Price looked somewhat disappointed at your language, Kyle laughed brightly at your outburst before coming over to you. He was still shirtless in nothing but those plaid pyjama bottoms. Why did this idiot have to kidnap some girl? He could have anyone he wanted, what exactly drove him to this?

“You don’t have any money for the swear jar luv, going to have to think of a different way for you to pay up,” he said with a cheeky grin before his eyes softened and he gently swept a thumb over your neck, giving a pitying little coo when you flinched. “Bloody git, need to muzzle him don’t we?”

Price appeared then, now interested in checking what Kyle was talking about. He didn’t seem anywhere near as casual about it, a storm gathering in his expression as he took your neck in. It was confusing that he should be the angry one here. He was still one of your captors. You heard footsteps on the stairs. Ghost must have been managing to limp heavily down them now.

“24 hour watch for a fortnight Simon, get yourself together because you start in an hour.”

That caught Johnny’s attention and he came barrelling over as well. It was ridiculous how the four of them just swallowed you completely, all tall and broad and intense.You imagined it must be like being under several weighted blankets, soothing but a little panic inducing when you realised that it was hard to move.

“Naw Captain, dinnae gie him that! He did it tae calm ye down didn’t he bonnie? Has tae do the same tae me if I get too reckless, if I might end up hurting myself cause I’m being a bampot” Johnny said.

You looked at those big liquid eyes of his, saw that they were genuine in their belief that Ghost was just doing right by you. You tucked away the image of teeth in Johnny’s throat and resisted the urge to agree with him to please him. To make him smile at you. To save Simon Riley from being stuck alone for the majority of the next two weeks because he was serving penance. The Simon who had made you hot chocolate and who Dosia had so easily taken to as safe. The Simon who had realised he had lost control, had spilled apologies to you and laid devout kisses all over the evidence. The Simon who wasn’t defending himself at all, was willing to take the punishment without complaint.

“What does 24 hour watch mean?” you asked quietly, feeling the oppressive silence and stillness that followed crushing down on you.

Kyle had been surprised you had spoken up, was pretty sure the rest were as well. None more so than Simon who was staring at you like you were some alien thing in front of him. Were you going to try and ask leniency or going to request he get a more severe punishment? Hard to tell. You were so different already from what Kyle had created in his head. So wild and stubborn. He had no idea what you might say next.

“It means he’ll stay in the watchtower for the two weeks luv. He won’t be allowed to come back here for anything unless it’s an emergency, he’ll be using the little outhouse and rainwater shower at the base and we’ll drop food off” he said, trying to be gentle and finding that he could not resist the opportunity to tease when you seemed so deep in thought. “He’ll sleep on that sofa you ravished me on.”

“Aye in front of us if I recall, was mean spirited of ye bonnie.”

You sputtered an attempt at an outraged string of words which only came out as noises and smacked at Kyle’s chest. They had kidnapped you, technically they had murdered you, and the fact that they could still make you blush with flirty banter was beyond what was acceptable.

In anger at yourself more than anything you refused to look at Simon and said nothing to save him, Price ignoring Soap’s outburst and instead only looking to you for any protest. You would not let yourself like these men, he could rot in that tower for all you cared. For two weeks. Barely sleeping. Hardly seeing anyone. Miserable. No, no that guilt could turn itself right around and find a home elsewhere, you were not entertaining the idea that you might not want that to happen.

“Yes sir.”

“Ye cannae be serious! C’mon bonnie, tell Price he’s got it wrong eh?” Soap said, weaving a hand through your hair to fix it a little and smiling still.

His smile was tight with worry now. Before, Johnny had thought you would be quick to defend Simon and he wouldn’t be punished. You were such a soft thing in his head, he had always imagined you’d enjoy baking but would be notorious for burning everything. He dreamt of dancing around the kitchen with you, giving you little kisses to remind you when to take things out of the oven. It didn’t match with his mental image that you could be stubborn and ruthless. Surely you would say something right? You wouldn’t let Si suffer because of a little bite? Well a big bite, looking at it even Johnny knew he had gone too hard. He could take that level of rough, but you needed to be treated with more care than that. Still though, he hadn’t meant it, was probably just worked up was all. Two weeks of 24 hour watch was too harsh.

“Got what wrong? That I’ve been kidnapped and had a chunk taken out of my neck for trying to alert the authorities? That it turns out you’ve actually murdered me? How awful to have to sit in the tower for two weeks knowing that you can leave and walk into town at anytime! Something tells me he’ll survive such an indignity!”

Not guilty, you would not feel guilty. You would not wince at the absolute heartbreak on Johnny’s face as you yelled at him. The shocked silence would not make you want to desperately apologise for being mean. The fact that you would actually be dead if not for the men in this room would not sway you. Their gentle care for you would be locked away tight in your head where you did not have to think about it.

“With me little bird.”

Price was firm, issuing a command more than anything as he took a step towards a door at the side of the living room you had not been through yet. The others were silent. Yes, Price knew this would be difficult for you, but he was not about to let you scream at his men like that. Murdered you? Absolutely not. They were only acting in your best interests, removing all the stresses of the outside world and looking after you so you’d want for nothing. He saw you glowering at him and puffed out his chest.

“Now. You can come easy or I can make you come hard.”

There was something in the double entendre that got you blowing out a huff, sticking your chin up in defiance and stomping after him and through the door. You could not let him throw you over his shoulder and carry you there, not if there was any threat that it might spark something unwanted deep in your belly. Price closed the door behind you and you found yourself in a small office, toe to toe with him as you both stared one another down.

“You are going to regret bringing me here.”

“You are going to forget there was ever a time that you didn’t want to be here.”

“Wanna bet?”

#cod #cod au #fanfic #mhairiwrites #tf 141 x reader #tf141 x reader #the angst has arrived #is this even good anymore? idk but I'm enjoying writing it so whatever

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kiwisbell · 6 months

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Las Mañanas || Chapter 5 [javier peña]

She’s a waitress in a little café. He’s a DEA agent who likes the coffee. Just the coffee. That’s all. Or, slices of life (and sometimes pie) shared between Javi and his wife, including his tireless journey to making her his wife.

series masterlist | my masterlist

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags/warnings: javi getting the fucking love he deserves, coffee shop AU if you squint really hard, reader no longer has a shitty husband(!!), mentions of sex work, soft and sweet!javi, protective!javi, grumpy!javi, simp!javi tbh, alcohol, smoking, so much fluff, nobody fucks with javi's girl, overuse of spanish pet names, poorly-translated spanish, "she" pronoun used throughout, oral sex (m and f receiving), guilt & shame, brief relationship angst, stakeouts, stechner is a dick, javi is an idiot for a while, premature ejaculation, makeup sex (actually makeup pussy-eating), chucho being peak dad, nightmares

word count: ~ 7.6k

a/n: communicate with your partners, people.

chapter five: love me until i love myself

They don't fight often. But when it happens, it's usually Javier’s fault. This time is no different.

You could hardly call them fights. Sometimes he forgets he's allowed to share things with her, that he doesn't need to stay silent and mope the way he was used to doing before they met. Sometimes he catches himself smoking by the window when she's asleep because he's woken up and can’t go back, no matter how warm and soft she is beside him. She’ll wake up, too, sensing his absence—then she'll sit by the window with him and give him a good stare until he realises he can talk. He can open up.

Sometimes he doesn't. It happens when he gets worked up, when he's been suffering through bureaucracy and red tape and evasive weasels. He doesn't want to burden her with that shit, so he buries it; he needs to feel it, to stew so he can get past it next time. But she doesn't take it.

“Be honest with me,” she said, softly, sliding onto his lap in the chair by the window. “Is there anything I’ve done to make you feel like you can't tell me these things?”

It wasn't a vindictive question. It was a real one, full of genuine curiosity. And it made him feel like a total asshole. “No, baby. Fuck no.”

She pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. “We're partners,” she whispered against his skin. “It kills me to see you so down, honey. I know it's the job, but I hate knowing I can't help.”

Javier crushed his cigarette and pulled her in close, flush to his chest, while he blew out smoke. “You help me just by breathing, amor.”

“Talking takes breathing,” she said teasingly, nosing along his cheek. “You can talk to me, Javier. I know sometimes you don't want to, and that's okay, but what’s not okay is you shutting me out, ignoring me. I had enough of that when I was married.”

And that gentle scolding kicked some real fucking sense into him. “Shit,” he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face. “Shit, baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He cradled the back of her head and looked into her eyes. “I’ll talk.” He pulled her in and kissed her. She sighed into his mouth.

He was a complete dumbass. He didn't deserve the way her body curved into his or her soft moans melted his bones. He didn't deserve the kindness of her reprimands when he'd been so fucking stupid. But, like she sensed his self-loathing creeping up, she pulled away and said, “I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. You’re not like him and you will never be like him. Te amo, vaquero.” She kissed him hard. “Te amo.”

This time, it feels worse. Los Pepes have him on edge, worried about when they'll inevitably turn, deciding she's a good target if he makes a wrong move. He’s in bed with narcos, while he sleeps next to the love of his life. It's the stupidest decision he's made in a long time, and it's a decision he made to keep the streets safer.

He didn't know then that digging in deep would put her trust in him at risk.

“Los Pepes will serve him justice,” says Don Berna with a mirthless laugh. “Ever in your service, Agent Peña.”

Javier sniffs. “You're in your own service.”

Tomorrow morning, Los Pepes will raid the home of Rodolfo Vargas, a trafficker recently recruited by the Medellín cartel to move drugs through his auto body shop. They're effective and efficient, and they're bloody as all hell. More violence isn't what Medellín needs, but it's what they'll get if they want any chance at taking down the cartel. It's not a rosy job, and Javier hates himself more and more for it each visit he makes with Berna.

“Got a cigarette?”

It's a bait of a question. Javier’s clearly already smoking. It’s a test to see if he’s willing to stay and chat after their exchange. He isn't, but this means Berna’s got more to say.

Javier passes him a cigarette, but he lets the man light it on his own. “That's one beautiful woman you keep on your arm, Peña,” says Berna good-naturedly.

That gruff voice of his grates Javier’s ears and incites a vague panic. But his fury rings loud and clear. “I’ve seen many beautiful women in my life,” he says evenly.

Don't you dare fucking talk about her. Leave her out of this.

Berna’s laugh is a real goddamned smoker’s laugh. If Javier doesn't quit the way he’s been talking about, he'll sound like that before he’s forty. “It’s a nice little place she runs. Good coffee.” His eyes slide Javier's way. “Don't see a ring on her finger.”

“Do you have a point, Berna?” He can pass off the tightness in his jaw as his cheeks hollowing around his cigarette. But not for much longer. He's learned his limits when it comes to her; it doesn't take much taunting talk like this for him to show his hand. He needs to manoeuvre carefully.

“No point, my friend,” says Berna. “It's good to see men like you happy. And with a woman like her”—he whistled—“I can see why you smile. Do you do this for her?”

Javier scoffs like he couldn't be bothered for such unmanly talk. “I came out here to smoke alone, you know. I do this because it's my job.”

“That's good to know.” Berna takes another drag. “Los Pepes will make Medellín safer for your girl.”

Berna knows he's in Javier’s head. He's got the upper hand with the mention of her. He must have seen them together last night. Javier took her out to dinner. “Fuck you, and fuck your threats,” he says at last. “We have a deal, Berna. Aiming threats at her is the best way to break it.”

He crushes his cigarette and leaves in his truck. By the time he gets home, it's an hour later than he promised, and his body is tense enough to saw a plank of wood in half. She's still awake, as they promised so long ago, lounging on the couch while the TV drones a telenovela. She loves them. They're the kind of mindless drama she gets sucked into. The real-world shit has burned her one too many times.

“Hi,” she says softly, sitting up and yawning. “Everything okay?”

And she isn't angry. Of course she's not angry; it's their deal that they stay awake for one another so they won't go to bed upset. It's perfectly reasonable.

So Javier, like the moron he is, grunts and leaves for the bathroom without so much as a kiss hello.

He splashes water onto his face and stares in the mirror as the seconds tick by. He turns the shower hot, hot enough to scald, and stands underneath the stream. He doesn't even wash himself. He just drowns in self-loathing until enough time has passed that he can call it a shower.

When he leaves the bathroom, she's moved to the kitchen. He smells soup, and his stomach grumbles with hunger he didn't know he was feeling. He hasn't eaten since breakfast.

Neither of them speaks until she places a bowl in front of him and sits down. “You had a hard day,” she says, looking him in the eye even as he feels too ashamed to meet hers. “I understand. It's unfair of you to treat me like I don’t.”

He knows. Fuck, he knows. She doesn't deserve this. But his brain won't let him pry his mouth open to let her in. It's like someone’s put a lock in his own head. He feels tight inside, his stomach a coil that won't snap. It’s not you. It’s. Not. You. I just can't stop hating myself and the things I do. I love you so fucking much. I need you to be safe. Know that. Please.

He can't say any of it. “Everything’s fine,” he shoves out.

Her lips purse. “You're scaring me, Javier. You're coming home late, and you're acting like I’m not here, and you look out the windows every five minutes. Is there someone coming for us? Do I need to be worried?”

“I told you,” he bites, “everything’s fine. I just—”

“Had a hard day.” She nods slowly, but that pinch of irritation in her eyes doesn't leave. “But it isn't fine. I think you know by now that I know you better than anyone. So what makes you think I’m going to leave this alone?”

“Nothing,” he says, and it snaps harsher in the quiet air than he meant it to. “Nothing makes me believe you'll leave it alone, because you never leave anything alone. You keep digging and digging and I don't want to fucking talk. Talking doesn't solve shit. So just leave. It. Alone.”

He doesn't even mean it. And he certainly doesn't mean to say it all to her. Never her. But he can't take it back, and now he sounds just like her ex-husband.

Her face crumbles. She doesn't even look angry anymore; she just looks sad. She shuts down, pulls her hand back. “I’m going to eat downstairs with Connie,” she says, her voice breaking. “She’s alone tonight, too. I’ll let you think.”

When she stands, she lifts her hand like she wants to touch his cheek the way she usually does when they stand from the dinner table. Javier chokes on every word he wants to say. He wants to stand up and grab her and pull her close, and he wants to let everything fall out while he begs her to stay. I can’t lose you.

But he lets the door click softly shut behind him.

He feels the bed dip a little after midnight. He's still awake when he feels her lips against his cheek, but he keeps his eyes closed. He's definitely still awake when he hears her sniffle quietly beside him, the sound muffled. She's facing away from him.

They wake up at the same time, their eyes meeting in that slow, groggy way until they both remember where they are. Where they are.

He opens his mouth, but she scrambles out of bed like a bomb went off and heads to the bathroom.

“You should let me drive you,” he rasps when he leaves the bedroom to see her packing her purse for work. She's already dressed, fresh-faced and ready, but her eyes are sunken.

She fakes a smile, and he notices the way her eyes don't fully meet his. She just looks at a spot above his brow. “I’m okay,” she says, too brightly to be real. “I’ll be safe. Have a—” She catches herself before she can say Have a good day. “I’ll see you after work. Love you.”

She leaves without letting him return it. Without a kiss good-bye. He deserves it all. She deserves to shove a knife straight into his chest and twist. It would dull the pain that rests there now.

“I love you,” he says to the empty room.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

Nonono. Not him. Please, take me, not him. I love him. Please.

Not her. Leave her alone. I’ll fucking hunt you down. I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.

You’ll regret leaving me. I’ll make you watch him die. Then I’ll take you back. You’ll remember that you loved me.

She jolts awake from another nightmare. Her hand comes up to stifle her cries so she doesn't wake Javier.

Javier, who's lying next to her, his face gentle and serene with sleep, lips slightly parted, naked and holding her close. The morning light turns his face golden, and he's so peaceful she can't think to wake him just because she had a nightmare. So, she slips out from under his heavy arm, from his legs which are tangled with hers, and stumbles to the bathroom. She clicks the door gently shut and sinks to the floor so she can let herself cry.

Javier wakes when he feels her warmth slip away. He shuffles absentmindedly toward her side of the bed, eyes still closed, only to pout when her body isn't there for him to bury himself deep into. For a moment, he's just grumpy, but then he blinks himself awake and starts to feel uneasy. Like something is wrong.

The bathroom door is closed, but there are soft sniffles coming from within. Javier's heart spikes and he pushes open the door without thinking.

What he sees destroys him. She's sitting on the floor with her nightgown on, knees drawn up to her chest, leaning against the vanity. She scrambles to her feet when the door opens, wiping underneath her eyes aggressively. "Morning," she says weakly, trying to smile.

Javier smooths back her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Baby, what's wrong? What happened?"

His mere touch seems to set her off again. She grasps his wrists hard and sobs shudder through her body. "Bad—" She hiccups. "Bad dream. I'm sorry, this is stupid. Didn't mean to wake you. It’s late."

"It's morning, honey." He doesn't like the way the corners of her mouth pull down, the way her eyes shine with such misery. He especially doesn’t like that he put that look on her face when he refused to let her in. "Talk to me," he says softly. "¿Sí?"

She sniffles. "He made me watch you die. He killed you. I couldn't even look. I just wanted to die, too. I'm sorry. I'm..." She buries her face in her hands and begins to cry again. Javier's heart snaps.

"Ven aquí, cielito, ven aquí." He keeps on muttering to her while she wraps her arms around him and holds on tight, her nails digging into his back. He doesn't mind. "I'm here, baby," he says into her hair. "I've got you. I'm here. Not going anywhere."

She presses her face so deep into his body it's like she's trying to make them one person. “Can't lose you.”

“Never gonna lose me,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Got a lot to stay alive for, hey?”

She sniffles and looks up at him. “I didn't deserve the way you talked to me that night.”

“No. You didn't. I’ve been a complete asshole.” He caresses her arms.

“Want to tell me why?” she offers.

The unbreachable safe inside his head cracks open when she places her hand over his heart. “Fuck, baby, I just—you’re my life.” He breathes in and surprises himself when it stings, when he feels the hot prick of tears behind his eyes. “I say it all the time, but I can't lose you. I can’t. It would kill me. And what I’m doing—it's dangerous and stupid. It's something I never should have done. But I’m in deep, and if I make a wrong move…”

He's crying before he knows it, but he doesn't try to stop. He buries himself in her, holding her close and wetting the crook of her neck while her hands rub soothing circles over his back, his neck. “Javi,” she whispers, her own voice choked with tears. “It’s okay. We're okay. I’m all yours.”

She's babbling just as much as he was, but it feels so good, uncoiling the tight wire around his heart. “I just want to know that you trust us both enough to talk to me. That you trust us to fix things when they're wrong.”

“Wanna keep you away from all of it,” he huffs into her hair, grabbing a chunk of it just because it’s so soft. “Never want you to see another fuckin’ second of pain.”

“Vaquero,” she coos. “I lived a tough life when I came here. Made bad choices. I’ve seen pain and I’ll see more. But you’re the one who brought me out. You helped when you never had to. I loved you all the way back then, and I’ll love you no matter what you have to do.”

“How…” He chokes on the words, but forces them out anyway. “How can you say that when you don’t know?”

What he’s done, what is yet to come. The laws he’s broken, the people he’s cut a deal with.

She shakes her head. “I trusted you enough to put my life in your hands. I trust that you’re good. That’s all I know, Javier. I know you’re good.”

Their kiss is wet and salty with tears, but it feels like a bridge has mended.

This is what happens when you love a person: you blame everyone in the world but them. You blame the world itself for opening up a rift between you. When it closes, you go to bed, and you rest your head upon their chest and feel the stitches where the edges were sewn back up. It will be okay.

Lying in bed with his head on her chest, he tells her everything about Los Pepes. Her stomach plummets and her lips press together, but when he's done, she keeps on stroking his hair and she whispers, “Thank you.”

She's terrified for him. But he feels strangely lighter, falling slowly asleep on her as she hums a song she used to sing to her sister. Los Pepes is a speck that he can wipe off the window. This, here, with her, is the only clarity he's ever had.

She's three orgasms in, and Javier just. Keeps. Going.

She's going to be late for work. The morning sun spills over the bed, warming her naked, sweating skin, but she’s lost track of time. She's twisting her fingers into the pillow she grabbed two orgasms ago, holding it to her face when he pulls her clit into his mouth and sucks… making her come for a fourth fucking time.

Her scream is raw and practically noiseless. She can barely see with the tears clouding her vision, but she seeks his face out, trying to bring herself back to reality. Her whole body is limp and useless, her thighs twitching as she comes down.

He looks like he's in heaven. His eyes are open, their soft brown wide and seeking, making sure she's all right, not too stimulated. His hair is wild from her grip and his fingers are going to bruise her legs, but he looks so beautiful like this. He closes his eyes and groans when he tastes her cum, lapping around her clit and licking up into her, drinking it all down. She thinks she's going to black out.

She tells him as much. He chuckles, which only makes her yelp from the stimulation at her clit as he returns to it, licking in aching circles. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries. ��Fuck, Javi, I can't… Feels too good… Fuck!”

He just keeps working her up until her whole body is trembling, her mind lifting free of its shackles once again as she crashes into Earth like a meteor, no more body, no more bed. She floats.

She knows he's making up for the two days they barely spoke, but she can't be bothered to call him on it when she lost her ability to prod around her own brain hours ago.

To his credit, he's always loved eating her out. It's like a sport for him, an addiction. He loves making her squirm, holding her by the thighs while he sends her head soaring into space. He loves tasting her, soaking his face with her, making her cry and moan until her throat rips raw. He's obsessed with her, wants to be possessed by her. And he's so hard he's leaking a constant stream on the sheets, grinding into the mattress when it gets too agonising. This is about her.

It doesn't stop the wet, hot sensation underneath him as he sucks her clit into his mouth, a familiar shuddering crash knocking down each knob of his spine. He grunts, hips jerking into the bed.

She comes for a sixth time before she taps him frantically on the hand and he lifts his head, resting his cheek on her thigh. Her eyes are staring up at the ceiling, her mouth open, chest heaving. She's sweating and her hair is a halo around her head. She's a vision.

He shifts, crawling up the bed and rolling them over so she's on top of him, knowing she can barely support her own head. She hums on his chest but frowns when she wiggles her hips up against his.

“You…”

“Yeah.” He pulls her in and kisses her hard, helping her centre herself in the world again.

He came on the bed sheets. Without her touching him.

“Mi vaquero,” she mumbles, kissing all over his face, her lips grazing every square inch from his jaw to his temples. “So good to me.”

He hushes her at that, grabbing her jaw and kissing her on the mouth again. He doesn't want to hear that. He's been terrible, fucking awful to her. But she's different this morning, already visibility lighter as she chirps about the bedroom, pulling on a sundress. He's old enough that his refractory period isn't what it was as a teenager, but his cock is already growing interested again as he watches her move about, her ass a beautiful sight in that dress. When she walks close to the bed, he pulls her back down on top of him.

“I’m already late!” she laughs, playfully smacking his chest. He rolls over and pins her down, naked atop her. “Aye, viejo. You’ll hurt your back.”

“Don’t give a shit,” he murmurs, kissing down her jaw, throat, and collarbones with sloppy caresses of his tongue. “My fucking beautiful girl.”

She shrieks as his hands leave her wrists to drag down her waist. “Tickles!” She tangles her fingers in his hair and lifts his head up, grinning down at him with flushed cheeks. “Honey, if we don't get up now, we're not getting up at all.”

“Mmm.” He sinks his teeth playfully into her throat.

“Vampiro,” she huffs, but he can feel her getting worked up, rolling her hips against his naked cock even though she’s already come six times. They roll again, and she's on top. A soft growl sounds through his throat when he sees his precum stain the front of her dress. The friction is fucking good. Javier’s mouth falls open and he loses his grip on her involuntarily when she pulls down the straps of her dress and exposes her breasts to him while she rides. “You can come like this, can’t you?” she pants, grinding against him.

He’s nodding frantically, but he can’t even hold his head up once she starts rolling her hips harder. “Sh—shit,” he whispers, reaching out for her hips to help her along. She whimpers. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, keep going. So good. Shit, sweetheart…”

Her head falls back against her shoulders, and he admires the smooth column of her throat as her mouth drops open and she cries out. Freezing on his cock, her whole body shudders, and she comes. “That’s it,” he bites out, “take what you need, amor.”

She’s grinding on him again before she comes down all the way, planting her hands on his chest. It doesn’t take long for him to come, too, baring his teeth and barely choking out, “Coming.”

She slides down his body and takes his cock in her hand, pumping until he begins to spurt his cum over his chest. He slams his hand down on the mattress and twists the sheets in his hand, eyes squeezing shut. They fly open immediately once he feels her hot mouth wrap around his cock and take the last few spurts down her throat. The sight alone prolongs his orgasm until his cum spills out of her mouth, dribbling down her chin. She swipes it up with her thumb and swallows it all down. Even softening, his cock still twitches in her hand.

He swallows. “Christ.” His voice is raw. “I’m late.”

“We were late when you made me come the fourth time.” She kisses his cheek. “C’mon, viejo. Drive me to work—I’ll bring you something to eat on my break.”

She does. Javier is still looking down at his typewriter when Murphy cheers, lifting his coffee mug into the air. He’s on the phone. “Empanadas! Can I have some, sweetheart?”

Javier rips the receiver out of his hand. “Baby, why'd you call Steve instead of me?”

“You weren't answering your phone,” she says sweetly.

“My phone hasn't rung.”

“Maybe I just wanted to bug you.” She’s grinning wickedly from the sound of her voice. “I’m talking with Penny if you wanna see me.”

He really does. He tosses the receiver back at Murphy, who keeps on talking to her while Javier makes his way downstairs to the front desk. She's in a different outfit because he stained her dress when he finished on it: a pair of jeans that show off her ass in a way that makes his eye twitch and one of his polos, tucked into her waistband. He's surprised he manages to refrain from pouncing on her like a cat when he reaches her.

“Mi amor,” he whispers in her ear. “Long time, no see.”

She bites her lip, still holding the phone to her other ear. “Yeah, Steve. I’ll tell him. And you're both invited to dinner Saturday night. Yeah. No, no, don't worry about it. Yeah. Bye, Steve. Say hi to Connie for me.”

Javier holds her around the waist when he greets Penny, pushing his sunglasses down his nose and winking. The middle-aged receptionist blushes at him like she always does. His girl kisses him on the cheek and hands back the receiver to Penny. “Thank you, honey,” says the receptionist.

She hands Javier a paper bag that's warm to the touch. “Yeah,” he says lowly, kissing her because he can, “thank you, honey.”

She looks up at him with doe’s eyes. “I’ve got an hour.”

That's what he likes to hear. Javier takes her hand and guides her upstairs, hoping to find an empty conference room for the pair of them to eat away from prying eyes.

“Aren't you two a pair.”

Bill Stechner wanders out of the men’s bathroom and blocks their path down the hallway. She curls up close to Javier and wraps her hand around his arm. He's told her about this asshole. “Stechner. I've got lunch to eat.”

He doesn't budge. “So this is the infamous Señora Peña. Well, not yet, but I’m rooting for you. If only he would just get on with it, right?” His good-natured smile has a predatory gleam to it.

She smiles politely. “Mr. Stechner.”

No Nice to meet you, the way she usually greets people. The man doesn’t look at Javier, keeping his eyes on his girl instead; it’s enough to heat up Javier’s blood a couple degrees. “I’d like a word, Mr. Peña,” he says.

“Told you,” he bites out. “Busy.”

“Wasn’t a request. The pretty lady can manage five minutes alone, right?”

Javier feels his eye twitch.

“Honey,” she says, “I think I’d like a kiss.”

And she pulls Javier down by the back of his neck, kissing him hard enough to bruise, right in front of Stechner. She pulls the sunglasses off his nose while their mouths are connected and places them atop her own head. Lost in the addictive sweetness that surrounds her at all times, Javier slants his mouth over hers and slips his tongue past her teeth. It takes an obnoxiously loud cough from Stechner for her to break away, smiling up at him like she's innocent, like she didn't ride the soul out of Javier this morning.

“Your word with my husband can wait,” she tells Stechner. “I’m here on my lunch. Have a nice day, Mr. Stechner.”

She slips by him as he watches her with a vaguely amused sneer. Javier follows her, but Stechner claps him on the shoulder. “Good woman,” he says quietly. “Knows what's best for you. I’ll see you in my office when she's gone, yeah?” He walks down the hallway in the opposite direction, repeating the words “good woman” under his breath.

Javier scoops up her hand and takes her into the closest empty conference room he can find. “Javi,” she says softly, “your nostrils are flaring.”

“Yeah.” He barely gets the word out before he's on her mouth again, a bruising kiss that lets him push all his need, all his desperation and tension, into her lungs. He wants to consume her. His brave, strong girl. The whirlwind. The calm when the gale dies down. She's everything, and he kisses her like it.

He's devouring her, messy, sucking on her tongue and slipping his hands underneath her shirt. She stumbles against the table and he lifts her up onto it, staggering himself as he tries to find something to hold onto and chooses her instead: her face, her throat, her hips.

He only pulls away because she's panting, desperate to suck in air, and he won't have her struggling for breath just yet. “Shit,” she gasps, prodding her lips with her finger. “Shit, honey, I didn't know you liked other people watching us that much.”

He nudges his nose against her cheek. He can't move away from her; he just keeps shifting closer, one leg between both of hers, his torso flush to her chest. He wants to become part of her. “So fucking good,” he mutters. “Making him look like an idiot. Showing him who I fuckin' belong to.”

“Mmm.” She drags her nails up the base of his neck and he bares his teeth against her skin. “You like that, vaquero? Kissing me in front of that asshole?”

He shifts his hands to her thighs just so he can squeeze her. “Yeah, I do. Most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And all mine.”

“Siempre, Javier,” she breathes into his cheek.

He grins, biting her jaw. “Don't think I didn't catch that, baby.”

“Catch what?” she asks coyly, sending blood rushing to his cock.

“You called me your husband.”

“Did I?” She shrugs, wiggling against him and pulling him closer, somehow. “Oh, well. Felt like the right thing to say.”

He cannot cope with the amount of love inside him. It breaks him in two, cleaves him open at the chest and pulls his beating heart right out of it for her to see. To touch and hold and keep forever. He doesn't know how to tell her she owns the part of him that keeps him alive, so he kisses her again. “Mi amor,” he mumbles. “Mi esposa. Gonna marry you and keep you with me forever. Everyone’s gonna fuckin’ know it's you, baby.”

She giggles, a bit drunk from kissing him and bruising her lips. “Better work on that proposal, then, cowboy. My hour’s running out.”

“Not here,” he says. “I’m gonna do it properly. Romance you.”

She lifts a brow and places a hand on his chest. “Can’t do that on an empty stomach. Eat.”

They sit next to one another at the table and dig into her empanadas like they've never eaten a day in their lives. It feels true, given they missed breakfast to fuck. Her feet up on his lap, he rubs the bone of her ankle with his thumb. “He's a dick,” she says out of the blue. “He's entitled and he's dangerous. He's got too much power over you, Javi.”

He squeezes her ankle. “So do you, baby, but you don't see me complaining.”

She gives him a hard look. “I don't have anything to do with your job. He does.”

They can’t talk about Los Pepes here, not with the chance someone could overhear. But he knows her code, the way she knows his. Javier cups her cheek and traces her bottom lip with his thumb. “Wanna know what I know?” She nods, looking up at him with her softened, buttery eyes, the eyes that make his brain spout any nonsense as long as it makes her happy. “I know I don’t have shit if I don’t have you.”

She bites her lip to stop her smile. “Don’t let any of those guys out there hear you say that.”

“Those guys…” He leans forward slowly only to grab her thigh and pull her onto his lap. “… don’t have you. Don’t know how fuckin’ crazy you make a man.”

She hums, grasping his jaw in her hand. “Just one man.”

It makes him feel manic, primal, his head buzzing with desire. His blood is hot and his fingers squeeze her thighs hard enough to leave indents. He shifts to wrap his arm around her waist possessively. All of him feels possessive—he’s crawling with the itch to keep her close to him, bury himself in her, never let the world touch her the way it has before.

He breathes into her neck like it’s oxygen and he’s drowning. “Need to… Fuck, need…”

“Javi,” she says gently, her touch a cooling balm to his heated skin as she slips her hands under the collar of his shirt and presses down on his shoulders. It grounds him here, with her. “I need it, too, Javi. Need you all the time. But I have to go back to work.”

It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse. Her hour’s almost up. So he reacts reasonably: he shoves his face into her hair and huffs like a grumpy old dog. She laughs, exasperated. “Drive me back.”

“It’s a block away, baby.” He’s still grumbling against her, the need for her so intense he refuses to peel himself away.

She lifts a brow at him like she can’t believe he would dare to refuse her offer. “Drive me back,” she says again, “and take the long way around.”

He perks up, the dog who knows he’s going to the park. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, sliding off him and offering her hand. “I forgot to wear panties.”

He’s certain every single person in the building knows why they’re leaving together, but he doesn’t give a shit. He keeps his hand on her lower back and when they find a side street, he spreads her across the bench of his truck and buries his cock deep inside her.

“Javi, your dad’s on the phone.”

He walks out of the shower with his hair still damp and shakes it over her when he meets her at the table. She yelps, smacking him on the shoulder. He just gets onto his knees so he’s at eye-level with her tits, on display in her unbuttoned blouse, and she has to grab hold of his hair to keep him away from them.

“No, Chucho, he’s just got out of the shower. Of course he wants to talk to you!” She grins into the receiver. “No, he hasn’t done it yet. Of course I’m going to say yes; él es el amor de mi vida.” She looks down at him and winks. “I’ll put him on for you.”

He sits his ass on the floor so he can rest his cheek on her inner thigh, happily sandwiched between her legs and deliciously close to her lacy panties. “Hi, Pop,” he says, grabbing a cigarette off the table while he wedges the phone between his ear and her thigh, close to purring with the way she brushes through his hair with her fingers.

“Tu amor sounds more and more beautiful every time I talk to her,” says Chucho. “It’s a shame I barely know what she looks like.”

His father has been pressing Javier like an embosser on paper to take a break, visit him in Laredo. He wants to meet his future daughter-in-law so badly he keeps saying it’ll kill him. Javier lights his cigarette. “Pop—”

“There's plenty of room on the ranch,” he cuts in. “I’ve got the guest room made up.”

Javier lazily meets his girl’s eye. Guest room, he mouths. She bites down on her lip and shimmies a bit, her tits shaking against the silk of her shirt. He elects not to look away. “Yeah, Pop,” he says vaguely. “We're gonna visit. Make a vacation out of it.”

She leans down to speak into the receiver. “Make sure you put him to work, Mr. Peña.”

Javier’s too busy taking the opportunity to take a nipple between his teeth to retort. She huffs, smacking him gently upside the head. “Why do you think I invite him?” says Chucho.

Javier asks about the calves and the crops (all thriving), and he asks how Chucho’s back is doing (about the same; back problems run in the family). She stands to make dinner while they're chatting about Laredo (the sheriff’s department's latest drug bust, the gossip about Chucho’s next-door neighbour a mile down the road and his latest affair). Javier follows her into the kitchen like a puppy, tucking the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he chops tomatoes. He’ll hand the phone to her when his father wants to talk to her, which is most of the time.

What's for dinner, mija? How’s your mother doing? Do you know how to milk a cow?

Javier smiles. They've been making friends with one another since the first time Chucho asked him to put her on the phone. She’s it for me, Pop.

Gonna give me grandkids?

He’ll just laugh and say, Talk to you next week.

It's not that they haven't talked about it. They have—at length. But if they're going to try, it won't be while he's working against the most dangerous people in Colombia.

When he sets down the phone, she slides her hand across his stomach. “That shirt,” she mutters.

He looks down at her, lifting his brow. “This shirt,” he prompts.

She slides her other hand up his arm, a ghost of a touch, and it's enough to send blood to his interested cock. It doesn't take much from her. “So sexy,” she hums, fisting the yellow polo by the collar.

She has a unique appreciation for his wardrobe. Always says he's stuck in the ‘70s, that he owns one too many loud patterns for his own good, that he sticks out in his tight jeans. But Christ, she likes it. “Sure it's not the body, baby?” he asks, low and deep, abandoning the cutting board to slide his hands beneath her silk blouse and pull her mostly naked body to him. “Worked hard for it. Running over rooftops all day.”

“Oh, it's the body, all right.” She lifts up the hem of his shirt. “You’re so handsome. So strong. All mine.”

He's putty in her hands when she tells him he's handsome. She can shower him with affection and words and he'll melt, butter, pliable as she has her way with him. He likes it: knowing she sees him as strong, good, capable. Sees him as someone she wants to bee seen with all the time.

And right now, she needs it. He's more than willing to give. She's hands and lips, feverish in the way she pulls his shirt up over his head and shucks her own blouse off. He has to brace his hands on the counter just so he doesn't keel over from the blood leaving his brain when she begins to kiss, lick, nibble all over. From his neck to his chest, all the way down to his stomach until she’s licking his aching hardness over his jeans. “Fuck,” he hisses, slamming his palm down on the countertop. He won't guide her. He wants her to take him the way she wants. But even like this, he's leaking, making a mess of himself. He goes white-blind for a moment when she takes his zipper between her teeth and tugs it down.

“Jesus,” he groans to himself. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

He tries not to let his eyes cross. He really does. But she takes him into her wet, hot mouth after shucking his pants down his thighs like they owe her money. And he chokes on his own tongue with how fucking good it feels, his hips stuttering and his hands white-knuckling the counter.

She slides her tongue around his head while she takes him down to her throat, licking along his veins and swallowing around his length. She sucks his cock as if she needs it to survive, and he just might die.

Her hands caress his thighs as she moans around him, and then they migrate to his balls, reaching around to squeeze his ass just because she loves to, because she knows he’ll let her do anything when he’s this far gone. His head is fuzzy and he can't form a sentence; he just curses and says her name and curses some more. She keeps her eyes on him so he keeps his on her, and they become the only two people in the world.

His hearing comes back in a rush, like emerging from underwater, when she takes him down to the base, her nose brushing the hairs at the base of his cock, and chokes in her excitement to swallow, to make him feel good.

The word good isn't in his vocabulary when it comes to this. This is ecstasy. Javier shuts his eyes and even stumbles a little when he comes. She holds onto his thighs, keeping her mouth locked around him as he spurts every drop of his cum inside her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mmmhmm,” she groans, eyes watery, mascara dribbling black tears down her cheeks. He reaches out to tangle his fingers in her hair just to hold onto something so he doesn't fall over. He just keeps coming until her cheeks expand and she pulls off; the last of his cum drips out onto her bruised lips.

He wants to drop to his knees and propose right then and there when she opens her mouth to show the mess he made of her mouth, clearly awaiting his instructions. He collects himself enough to do two things: firstly, he remembers he cannot propose to her while her mouth is full of cum; second, he croaks out a barely-audible “Swallow.” She does.

“Fucking…” He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, hoping to clear his vision. “Fucking… baby, I—”

She shakes her head and kisses his softening cock gently. It makes him twitch, but he's too spent to go again. “I know,” she says, her voice a bit raspy and ruined. She leans her head against his thigh and sighs happily.

He helps her to her feet, tucks himself back into his jeans, and kisses her hard. He pants against her cheek when he's done nibbling at her lips. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“So handsome,” she whispers, like it's a sufficient answer for her. “Just love you so much.”

“You're so”—he kisses a path along her cheek to her jaw—“fucking”—he bites down on the curve of her throat—“good to me. So good to me. Fuckin’ love you, mi alma.”

Usually, she's a giggling mess when he bites her like this. Mi vampiro, she'll say, indulging him with a hand at the back of his head. Now, she moans, body curving up against him. “Javi,” she breathes out. “Want you to watch me.”

“Shit. Shit, honey, is it my fuckin’ birthday?” He slips his hand around her waist, but she pulls back and smiles wickedly.

“You can't touch.”

And there's the kicker.

He pouts down at her, and she presses her fingers to his lips before she slides them down her body, sweet and slow. It's rare they make dinner on time during nights like these. Tonight is no exception.

When Javier proposes, it's private.

He does it in their apartment because she doesn't like spectacles. Neither does he. It's just for them: the dinner he cooks, three courses he only knows how to perfect by being with her; the lilies he bought in bulk just to spread them around the place because she loves them so much; the way he tells her to close her eyes and she does, even though she's got a giddy grin on her face and knows what he's up to.

She opens them and begins to cry nonetheless, seeing him on one knee at her feet.

From the moment he walked into the café, he fell in love with her. He gained a friend and a partner in that little window of time that was only for them. He trusted her before he trusted himself. He feels like a teenager when he's with her, so excited to be in her company and giddy with the simplest touch; and he feels more like an adult than he ever has, knowing she’s the most important part of his life and he needs to cherish her, protect her. He loves her smile and her laugh. Her voice. Her eyes. Her kindness and her patience. Her smart mouth. The way she knows him long before he's figured it out himself. The way she can calm the storm in him with a whisper and a touch. He's difficult and grumpy, and she chooses him every time. He loves her so much it hurts.

He tells her all of this. And then he asks her if she'll marry him, since it's customary. Even though they’ve been organising their documents and ensuring everything is in order for months, he still asks. She deserves to hear him ask.

She says yes.

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#kiwisbell's fics #las mañanas #javier peña #javier peña smut #javier peña fic #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction

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goddess-of-green · 2 years

Note

hello!! i saw requests were open and sprinted here. could i request the dr3 aphrodisiac soup scene where the reader didn’t eat the soup and now has to take care of/deal with an overly clingy, no filter, horny komaeda? thank you!

OMG I LOVE THIS ANON I AM GONNA KISS YOU MWAH

This is the first time I've had genuine inspiration in a while

(I had a lot of fun writing this)

Warnings: GN!Reader, NSFW, brief MENTION of somnophilia, there's no sex or anything but this is more than suggestive enough for me tag NSFW, nevermind there's dry humping and Komaeda cums in his pants

You sighed, hardly able to believe what was happening.

Out of dumb luck, you'd been able to narrowly avoid the aphrodisiacs that Saionji slipped into Hanamura's soup. You just hadn't been hungry, and despite Hanamura's offense, you denied having a plate.

Which you were now very thankful for, as your entire class looked incredibly...horny.

Someone in particular, was giving you quite the trouble.

Your luckster boyfriend had his arms wrapped around you, leaning against you as he breathed heavily.

With his trembling frame leaning on you for support, you couldn't help but wonder if it was Komaeda's luck that kept you safe from the soup. You felt bad thinking about what would happen if he had no one to help him at a time like this.

You felt even worse for Komaeda as you heard his labored breathing, and stroked a hand through his sweaty hair. His collared shirt was unbuttoned and his tie was loose to expose his collar bones as sweat dripped down his neck.

"Y/NN..." He drug out the last syllable of your name. "I know- I know I don't deserve it...but please let me- hah," He took a moment to breathe. "Let me have a taste of your hope..." He whispered pathetically.

He was putting pretty much all his weight on you at this point, having trouble supporting himself.

A quick glance down at the defined bulge in his pants was more than enough to clue you in on his meaning, and you sighed at his lack of tact. You supposed you couldn't blame him, though. If you were in his position you probably would have jumped his bones by now.

"Hey, don't talk like that, honey." You answered lowly, wiping the sweat from his face and cupping his warm cheeks. He looked at you reverently, still breathing heavily as he awaited your response.

"You deserve the world." You kissed the corner of his mouth, then regretted the action as it was probably teasing to him in this state. "But you're intoxicated at the moment. I'm not going to do anything without your express consent." You told him gently, and he frowned.

"Oh, please..." He leaned to rest his forehead against your collar bone. "I'll always consent to your heavenly hands upon my body. Not that a nobody like me is deserving of telling a graceful harbinger of hope like you, 'no' in the first place. Even despite my feelings, my autonomy is yours. It always has been." He spoke into your shirt, and his eyes started to tear up.

Wow...that was kind of profound.

"So please...I beg of you...grant me your touch." He whined.

Nevermind.

You sighed, hugging Komaeda and putting a hand on the back of his head. You couldn't help but be sympathetic to his predicament.

But even still, there's no way you'd touch him or let him touch you inappropriately while he was in a state like this...especially not in direct view of all your classmates; whether they were drugged too or not.

You didn't doubt that Komaeda really did mean what he'd said. He probably wouldn't care if you tried to fuck him in his sleep for crying out loud. But it didn't matter if you thought he would consent. You needed his actual, verbal consent. And he couldn't give it to you when he was like this. He wasn't thinking straight.

"Mmmn." Komaeda let out a sound against your chest, which was either a whine of arousal or a grunt of discomfort.

Both, more than likely.

Despite his momentary rest against your chest, Komaeda wasn't able to sit still for long; he was so hard it hurt. And the involuntary twitching of his hips quickly led to more.

You gasped as Komaeda shifted closer to you, rubbing himself against your thigh. You simply looked at his red face for a moment in disbelief, but he didn't seem intent on stopping. Not caring at all that you were surrounded by your classmates, he humped your leg with increasing urgency as he chased an orgasm.

"K-Komaeda!" You whisper-shouted, not wanting to turn heads. "C-C'mon! Get a hold of yourself...!" You blushed furiously.

"Aghh...h-hah, my hope..." Komaeda moaned, but he slowed down to a more...hesitant grind against you.

With another call of his name, he stopped. Though he looked more aroused than ever. "Ahh...please my hope... I'm sorry... A-At least s-sit in my lap...? Please..." He was begging at this point, and he seemed too ashamed by his behavior to look at you, having his face buried in your neck.

You frowned, eyeing his shaking and sweaty form. There was no way he could support your weight on top of him right now. He could hardly even hold himself up.

"Ko..." You brushed a hand through his hair. "C'mon...can you try to calm down?"

He whimpered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing himself about as close to you as he could. "Can you...say it again? Oh...please." He panted into your hair.

"Huh?" You blinked. "...Ko?"

He gasped, rubbing himself against you again as the nickname left your lips.

The deep grind into your side caught you off guard. "Ah, Ko!" You said it again by accident, taken by surprise. "Wh-What are you doing?"

It was a dumb question, you knew exactly what he was doing--but you didn't know what else to say.

Komaeda whimpered, gripping you tightly and shaking violently against you as he came. You could feel him twitching through his thin uniform pants, and it didn't help that he was groaning directly into your ear.

Damn it...you were kind of in the mood now.

Determined to keep your composure, you determined it would be smartest to just let Komaeda finish, instead of shoving him off you.

With his last few slow grinds, he finished creaming his pants, and you put your hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, are you okay? Ko...?" You asked, only to realize that he was passed out.

Quickly turning to look at the rest of the class, nervous that anyone had seen or heard Komaeda literally cumming, you found that most of the others were passed out too.

#danganronpa x reader #dr x reader #super danganronpa 2 x reader #sdr2 x reader #dr3 x reader #danganronpa 3 x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda smut #nagito smut

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ghosty-writes-23 · 1 year

Note

lmao can I get some Crack fic of Reader (preferably male or gn) being called out and and just the most out of pocket threat comes out of their mouth before continuing what they were doing?

some possible threats for ya:

-I will rip out your spinal cord

-I will knit a sweater using your goddamn nerves

-it takes roughly 45 pounds of pressure to pop and destroy a testicle, wanna test out how much my grip strength is?

-I will harvest your bones boy.

anyways, hope your doing well! remember to have fun with the threats, the more out of pocket, the better.

-🦀

Sergeant V's Favourite Insults.

Ghosty's Notes: Hi, this is my first time doing a 'request' sort of thing, This is to be read in either a Male's POV or GN so hopefully you like it.

--------------------

"The human body has 206 bones, I wonder how many of them I have to break, for you to shut the fuck up."

Sitting in the back of a truck, V could feel the tiredness wash over their body, it has been a successful mission, nobody was seriously injured and none of their team mates died, all the young sergeant wanted was to get back to base, shower and sleep, they would eat when they woke up.

Resting their head on the window, they let out a soft sigh, which caused Soap to look at them worried. "You alright mate?" he asked looking over at the younger sergeant, how just nodded and closed her eyes, hoping to sooth the headache that was coming on.

It was a long drive back, which V would hope would be peaceful, until a small group of Rookie's decided to cause a rucks in the back. Feeling as if their last nerve has been touched V spun around in their seat and looked at them with a glare.

"the human body has 206 bones, I wonder how many of them I have to break, for you to shut the fuck up." they said looking at each of the rookies, they knew they shouldn't have yelled at them like that but they where getting on their nerve, even after Soap had warned them.

Let's just say, the car ride back to base was quiet and peaceful, just the way V wanted it.

--------------------

"You Have 2 Seconds Before I Rip you're skeleton out your ass."

Soap knew he fucked up, when he ate V's last cookie, that he knew they had been saving, at first he went into denial of course V would be mad, until he pulled his big blue puppy dog eyes, nobody could be mad at him when he pulled that face, but then Ghost brought up the time Konig accidently eat something of theirs and they didn't see him for 2 days afterwards.

One V arrived back to base, he knew he was a dead man, not even a minute later, Soap felt the tempter in the room drop as V walked in, They has a sweet smile on their face, but under their mask was a psychotic grin.

"Soap want to tell me something." they said, their voice as soft as silk, Gulping slightly the older sergeant shook his head. "No." he said not meeting their eyes, walking over to him, V stood in front of him, their arms crossed over their chest. "You sure?" they questioned and Soap looked at Ghost for help, only for him to stand up and walk off, leaving the two of them alone.

"I'm sorry." Soap quickly said when he noticed nobody was going to help him, hearing them chuckle he gulped. "You have 2 seconds before I rip you're skeleton out your ass." they said their voice still sweet and soft as they moved a piece of hair out of his face.

After that day, Soap learnt to never take the last of V's things.

--------------------

Bonus Insults.

"your not a clown, your the whole fucking circus" throws confetti and walks away*

"If I saw you where first prize, I would start walking backwards."

"its seems your last two brain cells are bright for second place."

"Splish splash your opinion is trash." (Personal Favourite.)

--------------------

❌Please don't repost, translate or copy any of my work without permission.❌

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lambsouvlaki · 9 months

Text

The Crime Lord - 2

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: T, non-explicit smut.

Word Count: 1,560

Summary: Jason never stopped his crime lord ways, but he did find someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. They both have to live with what the things he's done.

Masterlist

At a little past six in the evening, she looked up from the organised chaos of her desk in her run down little office building and saw Jason sitting on the corner of her desk, watching her.

She yelped, and jumped.

He laughed. Despite her optimism back in the early days of their relationship, it never stopped startling her, and he never stopped enjoying it.

“Oh, you asshat,” she said, putting a hand over her heart. “How long have you been there?”

“Just arrived.” He was in civilian clothes, with the stubble of several days at his chin. “You’re working hard, I wasn’t even trying this time.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed them. She’d sent everyone else home an hour ago. Running a non-profit was so much harder than it looked. “This project, I swear. I’m going to pull my hair out.”

“Don’t do that, you have beautiful hair.”

“Hmm.” She cracked an eye open. “What are you doing here?”

“Had the evening free, figured I’d save you the bus trip home.”

“You sweetheart.” She eyed her paperwork, then looked at him again. “How’s your Cantonese?”

“Worse than yours. My Filipino is pretty good.”

She perked up. “Is it? You know it’s dangerous to go telling me things like that. I’ll put you to work.”

“Good. You’ll want to keep me around then,” said her partner of six years and the man who funded the entire organisation.

She grinned. “You have your uses, I suppose.”

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah. I just need to lock up.”

She never sat down and decided to become a cornerstone of Gotham’s charity scene, she just gently slid into it. While the Red Hood and his crew held the worst of Gotham by the throat, she looked around the supposedly regular parts of the city and was dissatisfied.

There were too many people in the poorer districts who didn’t speak much English and relied on their community, only to be left behind when disaster struck. She had always been something of a polyglot and after her literature degree wrapped up she did some work with charities in the Alley, a little here and a little there, and got to know the movers and shakers in various communities.

She tentatively started her initiative because nobody else was doing it, and Jason encouraged her. She pushed for it much harder when emergency sirens in English warned a largely Vietnamese neighbourhood that fear gas had been seeded in their waterways and they shouldn’t use their taps for the next twelve hours. The fallout was catastrophic.

She put some people in contact with other people, who then asked her opinion on who they should speak to afterwards. She kept at it, and within a shockingly small time frame she was arranging cross community relief work across half of Gotham and was busy learning her sixth language.

The whole thing was a money pit of course. Red Hood funded it through several shell companies, and it could be thought of as money laundering, in the style of a washing machine that always eats your socks. He went out at night and beat money out of Gotham’s organised crime, and in the morning she put it back into the city.

She was no great figurehead in the local community, but people trusted her, and that was all she needed to get on with it. Her little office wasn’t a destination but a crossroads, infrastructure that nobody stopped to look at but everyone relied on.

Information from so many people crossed her desk, from officials in the judicial system, to the head of the Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation, to handwritten letters from little old ladies who wanted to know just who she was to tell them not to eat produce grown in their own backyard, a little Gotham soil put meat on your bones.

When one of Red Hood’s lieutenant's planned to overthrow him, she knew about it before Jason did.

He walked her out the back entrance, then opened the driver’s door of his car for her.

That told her everything she needed to know.

She hopped in and didn’t even bother glancing at the backseat for the rifles that would definitely be within easy reach under a tarp. Automatically she checked the roof opposite her office, and there he was, one of Hood’s men, blending in among the air conditioning units. She had learned to be good at spotting them. She’d gotten good at all sorts of things in the last six years.

“Where are we going?” she asked, turning the keys in the ignition.

Jason gave her an address, and she drove.

It wasn’t their home address, or at least it hadn’t been yesterday. That was how this worked. One of the disadvantages of not being a billionaire who only dipped his toes into the Gotham crime scene: there was no retreat for them, just sidestepping.

Jason kept a hand on a gun just below the window the entire drive. He watched the roads carefully, while she planned and adjusted their route to make sure she wasn’t ever boxed in or at a standstill.

Despite the caution, they arrived without incident. Jason tapped his ear, and said they were in the clear.

Their home for the night was one of his old safe houses by the docks, a loft apartment she hadn’t seen in years.

“This takes me back,” she said, as they went in. He slung an arm over her shoulder. “I had a front row seat to watch you throw Tim off of that roof over there.”

He grinned and kissed her hair. “Hopefully no such theatrics tonight. I missed you too many nights this week.”

They went up and settled in. He made her dinner and told her to put her feet up. It had been too many late nights for both of them.

She lounged back on the couch and watched him cook for her. She smiled wistfully.

These moments were still so precious. Jason’s relaxed side, his playful side, his sweet and needy side. They didn’t get to come out very often and she hoarded those moments greedily. They were never going to be the norm. She knew that.

The Red Hood was not an newcomer upsetting the board anymore, and this wasn’t a holding pattern. It was the destination.

These were not the people they were becoming, but the people they already were.

Some days she felt the guilt of it all. He had her tacit approval, and she was complicit by every standard.

Those among Hood's men trusted to know about her had nicknamed her Evita. She found it deeply irritating, and Jason thought it was hilarious. She would contest the comparison, she wasn’t glamorous, and they were hardly living it up. But she knew how this looked, what they were doing.

“Al Capone was loved by his community too,” Nightwing had told her once, sourly.

No matter how much good she did, her passion project was funded by drug money. On the days when Jason felt the weight of his chosen work too heavily, funding hers justified it to himself. Maybe it was all motivated by guilt in the end and they were kidding themselves.

But she recalled the Gotham she grew up in. The terror, the helplessness, the filth.

It wasn’t like that anymore. It had changed, and Jason could tally that in his soul's favour.

Black mask had been overthrown by his own second in command a couple years ago, after getting his shit kicked in one too many times. That particular criminal empire had crumbled without strong leadership, and Red Hood swallowed and chewed up what survived.

The Penguin had lost so much ground that in the end GCPD scooped him up and he couldn’t even blackmail his way back out.

The Joker died in Arkham. Reports were inconclusive. Nobody was fooled.

Hell, things had changed so much that Red Hood had installed safe injection sites across the Narrows, decimating his own drug trade, and dealing the biggest blow to hospitalisation numbers in Gotham’s history, ever.

City authorities widely condemned the move as explicit distribution, but Jason held such a grip over his own districts that there was nothing they could do to stop him.

The two of them ate and relaxed together as evening stretched on. He pulled her onto his lap, languid and easy with years of familiarity. His body knew hers so well, as she did his.

Perhaps they were damned for what they did.

She wasn’t a fool, Gotham’s newfound peace was bought and paid for in blood night after night. They cleaned up the city without the city’s consent.

As she rocked in his lap, he gazed at her with such devotion. In her he saw absolution. The soothing rain after his scorching fire, the recovery only possible after the infection was burned away.

She enabled him.

The hands of a murderer held her hips steady. They caressed her body, then cupped her jaw. The lips of a man so drenched in blood she imagined they were both slippery with it, drank from her mouth. There were no vows, no rings, but he was hers. And she was his.

His head fell forwards, and she cradled him to her chest. She wondered if he saw the blood staining their hands just as vividly as she did.

He mouthed at her neck, and whispered her name.

She didn’t regret a damn thing.

Next>>

#AU: Red Hood but he never backed down #established relationship #red hood #jason todd #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #my fanfic #dc #angst #This AU needs a better name

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chimachapterbooks · 7 days

Text

The Sleepy Croc - From the Attack of the Hunters activity book

Laval looked out of the cave mouth at the frozen land all around. The world of Chima was in the grip of cold and snow and only he and his friends could hope to return things to normal. To do that, they had to figure out a way to defeat the Hunters.

But first...

"Can somebody wake up Cragger... again?" the Lion said, exasperated.

Ever since the weather had turned cold, Cragger the Crocodile had been falling asleep all the time. Cold-blooded reptiles prefer warm days and nights, and cold temperatures make them slow and sleepy. These days, Cragger was making Bladvic the Bear seem like a bundle of energy.

"I did wake him up," said Eris. "He stretched, yawned.... and fell asleep again."

"We need to move out," growled Worriz. "Throw a blanket on him, tuck him in, and leave him."

Laval shook the snoring Croc

"Cragger! Wake up!"

"Hmmm? What?" said the tired Crocodile. "Just five minutes more, Mum."

"Cragger, it's me, Laval! Get up! We have to get moving."

"Right, sorry," said Cragger, struggling to his feet. "It's just this c-c-cold. It just makes me so..." He paused to yawn. "Sleepy."

"We need to find a way to keep him awake," said Eris. "Well never get anywhere if he keeps falling asleep."

"I could tell him scary wolf stories," said Worriz, with a grin. "He won't be able to close his eyes all night."

"Hey, it's easy," said Gorzan. "Put some bananas under his nose. Nobody can stay asleep when they smell bananas. We should go get some bananas."

"There's no time for this. More of Chima is freezing every minute," said Laval. "We'll have to figure out a way to keep Cragger awake along the way."

The team set out. Icy winds chilled them to the bone as they fought their way through snow drifts and slipped and slid across fields of ice.

Eris and Razar flew high above, keeping an eye out for Hunters.

Razar was the first to spot trouble up ahead. "Eris, what's that in the middle of the lake?"

"Um, I think... oh, no, it's Plovar!"

Plovar was a little bird who spent most of his time hanging around with the Crocodiles. He called himself their 'dentist' and dived into any open Croc mouth he saw to clean their teeth. Amazingly, none of the Crocodiles had tried to eat him, at least not very often.

Now he was in considerably more danger. He had somehow managed to get trapped in the ice in the centre of a big lake. While Razar flew back to get the others, Eris tried to free Plovar:

"Come on, come on!" Eris said, as she pulled Plovar.

"S-s-top!" Plovar said, shivering. "My n-n-eck is getting s-s-stretched!"

Just then, the rest of the team made it to the lake. "Hey, Plovar, what happened, dude?" asked Gorzan.

"I was f-flying and I saw this very attractive bird down below. I flew closer and realized I was seeing my r-reflection in the water when the ice c-closed in on me," Plovar replied. “Can somebody get me out of here?It's c-c-cold!"

Laval thought for a moment. Then he shook Cragger awake. "You're going to have to save Plovar."

"Me?" Cragger said, in disbelief.

"Yes, you," said Laval. "The ice that's holding Plovar needs to be cracked. When it does, whoever is on it will wind up in the water. You're the best swimmer here."

"But I'll fall asleep on the way to get him!" Cragger protested.

"P-p-please, Craggy-wag," Plovar called, shivering. "I'm f-f-freezing."

"All right," Cragger said. "Just don't call me 'Craggy-wag'. I hate those nicknames."

Hesitantly, Cragger made his way out to the ice. He could already feel the cold starting to make him sleepy. But just as his eyelids were closing, Plovar shouted out again.

"H-h-hurry up, Craggily-waggy!"

Cragger's eyes flew open and he grumbled. "I told you, stop with the nicknames."

Little by little, Cragger moved closer to the trapped bird. Once, the ice cracked underneath his feet and he fell into the water. He struggled back up onto the ice and kept going.

Fighting the cold and the urge to sleep the whole way. But every time his eyes began to close, he would hear Plovar shouting, "Craggster! Rise and shine! No sleeping on the job, Craggmeister!"

By the time Cragger reached Plovar, he was both incredibly sleepy and incredibly annoyed. That made him an incredibly angry Croc.

"No-more-nicknames!" he shouted.

He raised his fist and smashed it down into the ice that was holding Plovar. It shattered into crystals.

The bird was free! Before Plovar could drop into the water, Cragger grabbed him.

When they made it back safely to the shore, Bladvic hugged Plovar to warm him up. "I w-wish I c-could do s-something to say thank you," said the bird.

"Oh, yes, you can," Laval answered, smiling.

A while later, the friends continued their journey across the snowy landscape of Chima. But this time, whenever Cragger began to fall asleep, Plovar would fly right up to the Croc and yell as loud as he could:

"Wake up, Cragginator!!"

And from then on, it was never a problem keeping the sleepy Croc awake.

———————————————————

I made this because of how much I like fun animal facts

I might update these photos with better quality I was just was really excited to get this out

#legends of chima #lego chima #chima #lego legends of chima #for chima #laval the lion #cragger the crocodile #chima laval #lego chima laval #Cragger #laval #chima cragger #lego chima cragger #lego #lego chima plovar #legends of chima plovar

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years

Text

BatFam Incorrect Quotes!

Y/N : *talking about Jason ’s funeral* You do know we’re burying a great person today!

Dick , shocked: Did someone else die?

Jason : We need to distract these guys.

Damian : Leave it to me.

Damian : Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss.

Y/N & Tim: *immediately begin arguing*

Jason : Which way did Bruce go?

Y/N : Well, based on the direction of the wind, the broken sticks in the corner, and the slight disturbance in the dirt, I'd guess they went left.

Jason : You could really figure it out from that?

Y/N : No, you idiot, Bruce sent me a text. See?

*young y/n and young Bruce at the manor*

Bruce : Can we go out to get icecream?

Y/N : Did you ask Alfred?

Bruce : They said no.

Y/N : Then why did you ask me?

Bruce : They're not the boss of you.

Y/N , internally: It's a trap, it's a trap, it's a trap.

Y/N : Well, has Bruce been wrong before?

Alfred: How wide are we willing to open this up?

An: I swear I didn’t manipulate this one at all 😂

Y/N : What is everyone for Halloween?

Jon : I’m superman.

Damian: A clown.

Y/N : So I’m guessing we don’t need to get you a costume then?

Damian to Jon : Me? I'm the bee knees, but, you? You're just...

Y/N : Cockroach ankles!

Damian: Ye- uh, what?

Roy : Jason-

Jason: *sighs* Y/N used to call me Jason...

Roy : ...Because it's your fucking name.

Roy : *cooking*

Jason: *kicks down door*

Jason: *grabs knife from Roy 's hand*

Jason: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR?

Roy :

Roy : What.

Y/N : They're trying to tell you they want to cook.

An: I actually did this lol and won that trope iPads

Dick : Y/N likes to win. When they were 8, a little Club Scout friend of theirs bragged they could sell the most cookies.

Dick : Damned if Y/N didn't walk the neighborhood till they got blisters on their feet, and won by 10 boxes.

Dick : Best part is, Y/N wasn't even a Club Scout.

Damian: We should normalize not loving family members.

Y/N: You can just say: “I hate my dumb fuck father” or whatever. Talk like a normal person!

Y/N: Ah shit, I forgot.

Alfred : Forgot what?

Y/N: How do you expect me to answer that?

Selena : We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Y/N will and will not eat.

Bruce : Grass? Yes!

Selena : Moss? Yes!!

Bruce : Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Selena : Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Bruce : Worms? Sometimes!

Selena : Rocks? Usually nah.

Bruce : Twigs? Usually!

Selena : Alfred 's cooking? Inconclusive!

Harley: How did you… test this?

Selena : You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it.

Harley: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Alfred : IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

*The gang's thoughts on stabbing*

Y/N: Would never stab anyone.

Selena : Would stab someone in retaliation.

Alfred : Yells "I won't hesitate, bitch!" first.

Harley: Would stab without warning.

Bruce : Would stab as a warning.

Y/N: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses.

Jason: This knife is actually a magic wand.

Damian : Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel.

Dick: *cocks gun* Magic missile.

Tim: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

Dick: You know what I learned from my friendship with Jason?

Tim: There’s no such thing as too mean?

Y/N: Never let your friends know for sure if you like them?

Damian : Always hold a grudge?

Y/N: Seriously, Jason, how many people would you have killed if we’d asked you to?

Jason: That’s not important

Y/N: I DISAGREE.

Tim: Don’t you have any dignity, Y/N?

Y/N: Uh, no.

Dick: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one.

Y/N: Break one of their bones instead, they have 206 of them.

Harley: Y/N, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Y/N, naked in Harley's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Harley, already taking off their clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

Selena : *in a jail cell* What about my Miranda rights!? You’re supposed to say I have ‘the right to remain silent’”! NOBODY SAID I HAD THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT!

Y/N: *in the cell next to them* You have the right to remain silent, what you lack is the capacity.

#bat fam #bat family #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #Tim drake #dick grayson #y/n #batman #nightwing #robin #Red hood #red robin #bat family x reader #incorrect quotes #alfred pennyworth #jon kent #Clark Kent #roy harper

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a-local-idiots-shitpost · 7 months

Text

Satan with a Zombie!Mc

this piece belongs to this and has 943 Words

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

is it out of character for him to take in a Zombie? yes completely but in his defense they had a skeleton Cat and he loves the Cat because it´s the cutest thing ever and their bones were far shinier than anything he ever saw he would be crazy to let them go but the only way he could keep the Cat was by keeping the owner

at least both of them were easy to hide, for some reason either no one notice the two undead creatures secretly co inhabiting Satan´s room or they were to scared to say anything both scenarios could have been it

what he didn´t expect that he would come to care about one of them, not to say he doesn´t care about the Cat but to his surprise he does like their owner a lot more despite the fact they still try to bite him sometimes

at least they never started rotting how he feared, because if that happened in the beginning he would have thrown them out and kept the Cat himself even if it would have hurt him to see the Cat being so hurt to be torn apart from it´s owner

good for him and the Cat that never happened, because it would have sucked to never get to befriend them or to learn all the subtle ways you can torment someone from them, he got so much better at annoying Lucifer thanks to them and the best of all he got a Cat now without Lucifer ever knowing there is one

it might be a small win for Satan but he wants as many wins against Lucifer as he can it doesn´t matter how small they are

another reason why he likes the Zombie is because they love reading and learning just as much as him, he can´t even count the times where both of them were enjoying a book and only stopping reading when they wanted to tell the other what happened or where so excited they just had to share it and they brought him a lot of books, he doesn´t know where they got them from and honestly he doesn´t care, they know what they do and how to stay out of trouble or not to get caught

thinking about it now he´s actually surprised they never got caught because they are a really big fan of crimes and have to eat Humans/Humanoids to survive, at least he can get some Human from Beel so they don´t have to starve

“I´m hungry” and there they are winning once again, if it wasn´t for Beel they might have been the one who eats the most in this House “didn´t you just eat an entire body half an hour ago?”

“yeah but I´m still hungry, you know how it is”

“no I don´t you should ask that Beel though I´m sure Beel would understand what you mean” they were lost in thought for a moment, it seems like they are trying to remember who was Beel again “that´s one of your Brothers, right? Actually thinking about how much longer are you trying to hide me? it´s been a year and at this point I would be surprised if nobody noticed me and Kitty are staying here” Satan sighed “I already told you that Lucifer would throw Kitty out if he ever learned about them so nobody can know you two are here” the mention of their name woke Kitty up and they jumped up at their owners leg, seems like they want to be held and no Satan isn´t jealous that Kitty loves them more than him, yes he is incredibly jealous but he won´t be saying it should be obvious enough by his look

“what´s with the look again? you know me and Kitty have been together since each our birth so obviously they will love me more”

“not if I get some treats for them” this got the attention of Kitty and they immediately jumped towards him “see now they love me more” they rolled their “alright believe what you want, let´s what happens if you run out if treats for them”

“this will never happen I´m more than prepared to pamper a Cat until the end of time”

“yeah I can see that happen, good thing that with Kitty you would have until the end of time with them not like they could even die a second time, at least I hope so”

“pretty sure if they could die a second time they would have already died a second time” they just shrugged “I guess I mean they are a Skeleton now so not like there is much besides magic keeping them going” Satan tried to give Kitty more treats and pats but they jumped out of his arms and made themself comfortable on his bed and taking a nap

Satan is disappointed at this but he knows what happens if they wake them up “and what can we do now that Kitty is asleep, because talking will wake them up and then they´ll try to kill us and I would gladly let it happen” they thought for a moment before they got a briliant idea “we can research some more curses to ruin this Lucifer´s live” Satan doesn´t know how he did it but he found the perfect person for himself “and this is why I love you”

“yeah I know”

“and this is why I hate you sometimes” they gave him a shit eating grin “yeah I know”

“I already ripped your head of once do you really want to look for it again?”

“would be worth it”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfiction #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan #satan avatar of wrath

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callsigndragon · 10 months

Text

Falling and Never Landing | 1. at least it's the clever one

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw x fem!reader (reader has a call sign, so not use of y/n if i can avoid it)

WARNINGS: guys being idiots in 1986, and people being idiots towards barbie. WORD COUNT: 2k

Masterlist

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know in the comments!

It turns out it wasn’t as fun as you thought it was going to be. There were pilots who refused to fly with you during the exercises, and you always ended up flying with Mav and Goose or Ice and Slider. They are the only ones who don’t care about your gender, only your skills.

And you’ve been grateful for that.

But it’s a bit complicated to become the best when you have to wait until either Mav or Ice are free to work with you. It’s not fair. You have worked your ass off to make it here. You’ve been given the cold shoulder since the very same day you said you wanted to be an aviator. Nobody has made things easier for you just because you are a girl.

They should be praising you for entering the academy, not making things harder for you.

But this isn’t an ideal world. This is a man's world. And you’re just living in it.

"Okay, so,” starts Luke, sitting down in front of you at the cafeteria. “Are you going to jump his bones, or do I have to tell him?”

You put your hand so fast against his mouth to stop him from keeping talking that you could say that it was a slap. “Can you not be so loud about it?”

“Oh, come on! We all see how he looks at you,” he mutters, grabbing his fork to start eating what is supposed to look like mac ‘n’ cheese but doesn’t look like that at all. “And honestly? You look at him the same way.”

You roll your eyes, looking at your food. “I don’t look at Goose in any way.”

“I’d like to disagree,” states Iceman, sitting down in front of you two, Slider trailing behind him. “At least you fell for the clever one.”

“Clever one?”

“Barbs, Maverick isn’t what I would call a genius.” Slider comments, taking a sip of his water bottle.

You open your mouth to protest, but he has done a lot of stupid things in the last week. “I can’t defend him.”

“But, as I said, at least it’s the clever one.” He repeats himself, smiling and showing his approval.

“I didn’t fall for anyone, you hear me?” You point at him with your fork, but all he does is chuckle and keep eating.

“Maybe I could learn how to be a truck driver,” Goose says, entering the cafeteria following Mav, who seems to be avoiding him. “Mav, you have the number of that truck-driving school we saw on TV? Truck Master, I think it is.”

Mav keeps ignoring him and sits down next to Ice on the table, leaving Goose to sit in the only place available on the table: next to you. “Hi, Barbs.”

“Hi, Goosie.”

Ice and Luke share a look, rolling their eyes at the exchange. “And she doesn’t have a crush.”

Maverick looks between the pilot and the RIO but decides not to comment about it. Not yet. He knows who they’re talking about, but it’s not the moment to dig into the matter.

“What was this truck thing you were talking about?” You ask, turning to Goose.

He glares at Mav. “Someone had to break the Hard Deck and do a flyby!”

All of you turn to look at Maverick, not really surprised by the flyby but for breaking the Hard Deck. “You did what?”

Luke voices what all of you are thinking, but Maverick, rather than being ashamed of his actions, proudly smiles. “But we got Jester!”

“It’s like his brain can’t register words.” Goose tells you, facepalming at his friend’s attitude.

“How do you do it?”

Goose tilts his head in your direction. He is so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin. “Do what, honey?”

You swear that every time he uses that term, something in your brain starts malfunctioning, and you can’t even think. “D-deal with Maverick’s ass.”

“I think that it’s because I love that man to pieces. He’s like my brother. And as much as you want to punch your brother, you don’t do it.”

You chuckle, leaning even closer to him, and get lost in that small bubble that always surrounds you two when you talk. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to punch him.”

“Oh, I did once, on the very first day we were paired up together,” he comments, not offering an explanation after that. You wait, but he doesn’t say anything. Only when you slap his arm does he say something. “You want to know, right?”

“Of course!”

“What do I get in return?”

“Not being slapped again?” You offer with a smirk.

“Maybe I’m into that,” he teases, reminding you how you can never give better comebacks than him.

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m gonna need to stop you two right there.” Luke says, standing and pulling you two away from each other. “As Barbs’ best friend, I need to stop this. You keep looking at her like that, and you’re gonna get her pregnant.”

You can feel your face heat up at Luke’s words. “I have to go get changed.”

You stand up, ready to leave, when Maverick reminds you about the volleyball match this afternoon. You simply nod, running away to avoid the stares from Goose and Mav and the knowing smiles from Ice and Slider.

Goose stares at Luke, almost burning a hole in his head. “What.”

“It was the first time in a week that she actually talked to me. I was about to ask her out on a date!” Goose whines, closing his eyes.

Luke’s lips tighten in a line, feeling bad about crashing Goose’s advances. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Maybe I’ll get to talk to her at our graduation. If we even get to graduate.” Goose says, looking at Mav, who just gets up and walks away when he sees Charlie passing by.

“Well, you’re gonna be able to talk to her this afternoon. She won’t be playing volleyball with us.” Luke mutters, collecting his tray and yours.

“Why?” Ice and Goose ask at the same time.

“She’s not allowed to fraternize with fellow aviators outside work hours,” the RIO explains, leaving them all with confused expressions and more questions than answers.

Later that afternoon, you sit down on the benches, observing the aviators jumping around, howling, and, overall, having a good time. It makes you jealous, in both a good and bad way.

You've been craving all your life to be one of them. These boys, even if they argue with each other, have each other's backs. They're ready to fight and die to protect the others. They're brothers. Family. Thicker than blood.

It's sad to know that you would never fit in. You'll always be you.

A girl.

An outsider.

"Are you really wearing jeans in this weather? Honey, if I had those legs, I'd be running around in shorts all day!" Goose quips, sitting down next to you while Luke enters the game, making a team with Mav.

"I... don't have another option."

Your confession makes him frown, and you can see in his eyes the internal debate. Should he ask or not? "Why?"

You sigh. "There were rules. Rules I have to follow if I want to keep being a Top Gun student."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nick looks between you and the match but ultimately decides to focus his eyes elsewhere, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured to talk under his stare. "You can tell me whatever you're comfortable sharing, Barbs. And if not, that's okay."

"They called them "rules of engagement". I call them bullshit." You mutter while playing with your dog tags. "Between the many absurd rules, there are some really stupid ones. I can't wear skirts or dresses. I can't get drunk. Well, I can't drink alcohol."

Goose's eyes grow wider the more you tell him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh, there's more. If I have to be in a room full of men, Luke has to be with me. I can't wear low necklines or close-fitting clothes if I'm going to hang out with other aviators, even if Luke is with me."

"I'm really close to punching someone's face," Goose sighs while patting your back.

"And I can't have sex."

That seems to be the final blow. "Beg your pardon? How are they going to know if you get laid or not?"

You shrug. "Luke thinks that someone around here is constantly watching my every move, waiting for me to fuck up a bit so they can kick me out."

"But… but what if you fall in love?" He asks a bit nervously, feeling that all his long hours of thinking if he should try again to be in a relationship might have been for nothing.

"Oh, that's not allowed either." You chuckle nervously, knowing that the feelings you're developing towards the man sitting next to you are extremely close to being 'illegal'.

“I don’t understand why. Why are they forcing you to do all these things? Well, forcing you to not do them, actually.”

You look at your hands, thinking about it for a second before actually answering. “They don’t want me to distract any of you. A girl could distract or tempt a fellow aviator.” You say this, making your voice sound gravelly and serious, probably imitating some higher rank that told you all these stupid rules.

“So rather than telling the boys to act with you respectfully, they forbid you from doing the most normal things like... wearing a fucking dress?” Goose is standing now, pacing in front of you. He’s fuming.

“I’m sure things will change eventually but for now...” You sigh, knowing damn well that if it changes, it’s going to be for the next promotion. If the next girl can have a normal experience at Top Gun, you’re willing to go through this hell.

Out of nowhere, Goose’s face lit up like it was the Fourth of July. Okay, so you cannot wear normal clothes while being at Top Gun, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“But nobody said anything about what you can wear outside of Top Gun.”

You feel a slow smile forming on your face. “Go on.”

“I know this fancy restaurant a few miles away from the academy… We could go.”

“So you’re asking me on a date.”

He smiles. “Think about it. You get to wear a beautiful dress and have a nice time outside this… prison.”

“Okay.” You agree, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that tells you that this is a really bad idea. If someone finds out…

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up tonight. But you have to wear a nice sundress and a pretty accessory.”

“I don’t think I have any jewelry here.”

He leans closer, grabbing his sunglasses that were sitting next to you on the bench. “I’m the accessory, honey.”

“Oh.” You giggle and get up from the bench. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“I can’t wait.” He winks at you before putting on his glasses and entering the game again.

Luke sits down next to you, as Goose takes his place again. “Did you two have a nice talk?”

“Oh, yeah. I even have a nice date tonight.”

“What?! Oh my god, Barbs. That’s amazing!” He hugs you quickly, and then pushes you away even faster. “You didn’t bring any dresses.”

“No, I didn’t. Wanna go shopping?” You plea, hoping that he wants to accompany you.

“Don’t tell my wife I go shopping with another woman, she might get jealous.” He says, collecting his stuff.

“Your wife loves me more than he loves you.” You remind him, watching as Goose talks to Mav, and the pilot doesn’t waste a second to hug his friend. He looks really happy for him.

“Damn right, she does.” He checks that he has everything before turning to you. “Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

@novastories

@purplevortexx

@xoxabs88xox

#nick bradshaw #goose bradshaw #goose x reader #nick goose bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun fanfic #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fandom

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