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joelmillerisapunk · 3 months

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Brothers in Arms | i. don't talk to strangers

Cartel!Joel and Tommy Miller x Reader

masterlist | series masterlist

↳ Wordcount: 6,281

↳ Warnings: 18+, you're being watched, but it's different (it's the pick me quirky kinda being watched), you meet the boys, tags will added to each chapter

↳ Authors Note: Welcome, I hope you enjoy the first chapter. This is the first series I've ever written (please be gentle) also I couldn't find an accurate representation of cartel Tommy because Gabriel Luna is too cute and smiley, so I had to go suitless Tommy 🥰

Ten missed calls from your dad…

You didn't want to talk to him. You knew that as soon as you answered the phone, you'd forgive him for telling you that you didn’t have the guts to be a criminal psychologist. He told you that you were too sweet to survive. That those criminal types would eat you.

You suppose his feelings shouldn’t surprise you considering his “war on crime” campaign. He said the only place for criminals was prison. Do the crime, do the time. Completely ignoring the statistics that people that go through the system will end up back in again because the prison system tries to profit off prisoners instead of, you know, help them, like they were supposed to.

Like talking to a brick wall.

It didn’t matter that you were well on your way to a bachelor’s degree and then a master’s degree afterward. He had his own stubborn ideologies that no one, not even an expert in that field could dispute.

Fucking politicians.

Your phone buzzed again. This time a text.

Dad: Call me

You: No. I have plans. Stop calling me.

You threw your phone on the little twin bed in your dorm, watching it bounce on the thin mattress. Your roommate, Natalie, invited you to go out tonight. Most of the time, she ignored you, and who could blame her? You weren't the chatty type.

Two years into your degree, you were still buried in a book, absorbing every little bit of information you could because you found it so interesting. Natalie was a marketing major, so there wasn’t any crossover.

In your defence, your major was a bit more demanding so you didn’t have a lot of free time. But, you really chalk it up to being your dad’s only child. You were practically wrapped in bubble wrap since the moment you were born. But after getting into the thousandth fight with your father, you wanted to live a little. There was this club downtown you were being taken out to, your first experience at a club. You were terrified.

The dorm door opened. “Hey, girly. You ready?” You turned to see Natalie standing there, perfect brunette eyebrows raised. She was built like a supermodel. You swear a potato sack would look like high fashion on her. Meanwhile, you stood there in your most club-worthy dress, and it still had a collar. Natalie’s eyes flickered across your dress.

“Do you have a meeting after this or something?” she teased, not in a playful way. Her voice had a mean tilt, but you were so starved for a female friend that you were willing to let it slide.

"I don’t have anything to wear,” you stated, gesturing to your half of the closet that was filled about an eighth of the way. You lived in your sweatshirt. 104 degrees Texas heat and you’d still wear that thing around because your classes were cold as fuck.

Natalie laughed quietly, “Of course, you don’t. Do you think you can even keep up with me and my friends tonight? There’s no shame in staying in and reading…again.” She said it like there was definitely shame in doing that.

As much as it pissed you off internally, you let yourself wither. You wouldn’t get what you wanted if you snapped at her. “I’ll be fine,” you murmured sheepishly.

She passed you, smelling like expensive shampoo, and opened your dresser. “I’ll find something for you. That dress will make you stick out like a sore thumb.” She tossed a few items on your mattress. “There, jeans and this cute little lacy thing.”

“That is a bra,” you pointed out. “I’m not wearing just a bra.”

“You’re no fun. I’ve got a mesh top to put over it. You’ve got the tits for it,” Natalie said. “Show a little skin.'' You were a little thrown at the compliment, but you'd take it. “And take your hair down, the messy tousle is really in right now,” Natalie mentioned as she waited for you to finish up. And as you got dressed, you think she might have been right. Showing a little skin but feeling covered up was a fantastic combination. You felt hot.

Natalie seemed happy with her handiwork. You grabbed your phone and wallet, and you were off. You called an Uber to take you to the club to meet up with her friends, Monica and Katherine. And for once, you felt like you blended in with them. You looked like you belonged in the same friend group, and that, in and of itself, was exhilarating.

The bouncer checked your IDs, and you were in. You'd have to say that the bumping bodies, the confined space, the loud music, and the flashing lights were really disorienting. But you were determined to have fun tonight. Your heart crashed against your ribs, and you could feel the bass in your bones, vibrating your entire body. You just needed a drink to settle yourself.

Following Natalie and her friends to the bar, she bought you your first drink and shouted, “Thanks for coming out tonight!” The bartender handed you all shot glasses full of a clear, potent-smelling liquid. Tequila. You may have never had it yourself, but you always smelled it on your mom’s breath when she was around. Your stomach rolled, but you raised the shot glass and replied, “Thanks for inviting me! Cheers!”

You threw it back before you could register how the other girls were licking salt off their hands and chasing it with a hard bite of lime. The strong liquor hit your stomach, causing a wave of nausea to hit you, but you gulped it down and pretended like you meant to do that.

“Cheap tequila straight,” Monica said before looking over at Natalie. “Where’d you find her? I like her.”

You shot her a pained smile, fighting the burn in your throat. Natalie laughed and said, “Come on, let’s dance! I see some guys on the dance floor that I wouldn’t mind going home with.” You arched a brow, and you finally got a genuine smile out of her. “Not our dorm, obvi. I’m trashy, but not that trashy,” Natalie promised.

That made you laugh a little, your belly started to feel warm from the first shot you had ever taken. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You went out to the dance floor, wedging yourselves between bustling bodies. You felt a little nervous, your palms getting clammy, but you just followed everyone’s lead. You bounced along to the music, letting the bass dictate your hip rolls. Soon, you started to warm up. It was fun to dance around and move with the crowd.

Sweat beaded behind your neck, and you turned to the side, locking eyes with a dark-eyed man sitting at the bar. He wasn’t drinking, but there was no mistake that he was looking right at you. Your belly fluttered as you took him in, no longer interested in dancing. His broad frame slanted against the bar, his shirt was slightly unbuttoned and rolled up his forearms.

What is it about forearms? Your belly quivered a little bit.

You turned to see what Natalie and the others were doing, but she seemed to be choking on some random guy’s tongue in the corner. Part of you envied that. The ability to see what you want and act on it.

You were more methodical. Always a thinker. But this time, you wanted to act. There was a sinfully attractive man in the corner eyeing you. If you didn’t act on it, someone else would.

Oh, God, but what if he was looking at someone else?

As if sensing your hesitance, he waved at you, and you looked around, pointing at yourself like, “Who, me?” Even from several feet away, you could see a dimpled smile as the mystery man nodded, beckoning you over to the bar. You slid out from around the bodies to the slightly quieter bar. Up close, he was even more attractive. He was older than you but you weren't sure how much older. Certainly, the type of man well settled in his career. Made you wonder what he was doing at a club when statistically–

Hey, you told yourself, stop psychoanalysing strangers.

“Hi,” you greeted, unsure what else to say. You were very out of your comfort zone, but tonight was all about doing new things. Not that you were going to do him or–

“Hi,” he answered. “Do you want a drink?”

You tucked some hair behind your ear, heat in your cheeks from how you noticed his eyes follow your fingertip like he could see all of you. You'd never felt so naked before, but you made the mistake of looking down to see your tits proudly on display under the mesh shirt, in a lacy red bra. Your cheeks fired up even faster. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Maybe a drink would cool your nerves. Doubtful, but worth a shot. Ha. Shot. You could use one of those.

“Hmm, let me guess your drink,” the mystery man offered.

A smile curved the side of your mouth, and you were too intrigued to argue. “Okay, give me your best guess.”

“You don’t drink much, if at all,” he said, tapping his chin with a thick finger. “But if I had to guess that you were a wine cooler type of girl.”

You were shocked because he was absolutely right. How’d he get that off a look? “But, since wine coolers are shit, let me recommend a Tequila Sunset,” he said. “It packs a little more of a punch, but it’s fruity enough to take out the bite.”

You purse your lips, unsure if you'd like it, but you were in too deep not to humor him. “You know what? Sure.”

He turned to the bartender and ordered it. The bartender made a show of mixing it up for you before placing a lovely glass of orange fading into a berry red from the grenadine. He watched you intently with those intense eyes as you took a sip, marvelling that the juice took out that awful taste of tequila. You repressed a smile and said, “That’s quite delicious.”

He returned your grin with one of his own, showing off perfectly straight teeth. “I’m Joel. And you are…?”

And you answered, giving him your name.

“It suits you.”

Your face felt hot, not expecting that response. “Thanks.” You took another sip of your yummy cocktail that tasted more like juice than liquor. “So, Joel, tell me how you guessed my drink of choice.”

He shrugged his toned shoulders, drawing your gaze to the chords of muscle around his neck. Never once have you ever wanted to take a bite out of a human being, but here you were, wondering how his muscles would feel between your teeth. He wasn’t close enough to smell his cologne, but he just looked like he smelled good.

“You don’t look like you come to clubs often, so it was a lucky guess,” Joel said.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked meekly. Here you thought you were blending in nicely, but maybe you did stick out.

He smiled at me and said, “No. My brother owns a club so I’m in them pretty frequently. Checking out the competition.”

That made you feel better. You parted your lips to ask another question when Natalie came between Joel and you to order another drink. She took a step back at your side and gave Joel a once over. “And where have you been hiding?” Natalie said flirtatiously.

While Joel looked at you, he was smiling. Visibly interested in you, but with Natalie, he looked very bored. He ignored her completely, which you would have found rude if it wasn’t also incredibly hot. You liked the attention.

“Can I have your phone?” he asked, outstretching his hand to you.

You reached into your jeans pocket and pulled it out, placing it in his hand. Nervously, you sipped your drink. Was he really about to give you his number? He saved himself in your phone and handed it back. “Call me,” he said, standing up from the barstool. “Or don’t. But I really hope you do.”

He flashed you one more dimpled smile, shot Natalie one more dirty look, and left.

“What a dick,” Natalie grumbled, but you were too engrossed in the contact info. You had a hundred notifications from your dad in the notification bar, but your eyes were locked on Joel's name.

“Whatever, let’s go dance.” Natalie grabbed your arm, clearly irritated at the one man in the entire club who wasn’t showing her attention. You relented, tucking your phone into your pocket as you danced the night away with Natalie, the mysterious man from the bar on your mind.

Should I call him?

You looked at your phone, lingering on Joel's contact info. Your thumb hovered over the message button, but you turned off your screen instead. Study. You need to study. You divert your attention to your criminal psychology textbook, taking notes for various terms you need to know. You didn’t necessarily need the notes. You remembered everything you saw.

A gift and a curse. A gift for college. A curse because you can’t forget anything. Your dad’s bribe deals. All the sketchy shit he got himself involved in, you remembered. You could even remember the name on the check with crystal clear accuracy. Sierpente. A distinct last name. Of course, considering how fast your dad snapped that check away from you only solidified it in your memory. He played it off, but you knew how nervous he was. Whoever this Sierpente was, they were bad news.

So sure, you were avoiding your dad because you were angry with him, but you also didn’t want to get tangled in his web. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Because you were also a terrible liar.

You were practically a walking textbook.

You sighed, leaning back on your rolly chair to tie your hair up. It wasn’t a very good bun, but your hair was always so unruly anyway. Your leg shook, and you couldn’t stop tapping your pen on your desk, eyes darting back to your phone again.

Fuck it. I’ll text the mystery man from the other night.

Keep it short and simple. Don’t sound desperate. Joel was too attractive to find desperate and endearing. You typed a few letters only to backspace.

You: Hi, it’s the girl from the other…

Nope. Nope. Nope.

You: Salutations. I was pleased to meet…

Salutations? You started to backspace when you accidentally hit send. Sounding like a fucking weirdo by texting “Salutations—”

Giving up hope, you turned off your screen and placed it facedown on your desk. Way to fucking go. That’s the last time you ever try to make a move. You pressed your palm into your forehead. Never once had you ever used that greeting before, but you decided to send it to a drop-dead gorgeous man you met at a club.

Way to fuck that one up.

Why were you so hung up on it? Joel had this energy about him. You felt it when you were next to him. It intrigued you. You remembered what his hands looked like. Burned into your vision with perfect accuracy. You bet those hands would look great around your throat.

And where the fuck did that come from?

A spike of lust coiled in your belly at the image. Lust wasn’t completely foreign to you, but you never acted on it. Boys never interested you. Surrounded by boys in class and on campus. You'd always been attracted to older men, but you had no idea how to make a move. And your inexperience was apparently a massive turn-off.

Your phone buzzed, and you flipped it over to see that Joel texted back.

Joel: Salutations to you too. Who’s this?

Your face warmed as you tried to wait the appropriate amount of time before texting back. But in reality, you replied in about ten seconds.

You: From the other night at the bar.

Three dots appeared, keeping you on the edge of your seat.

Joel: Tequila Sunrise? How are you?

You: Just studying. You?

Joel: Another boring day at the office. You up for a phone call? I’d like to hear that sweet little voice without all that music.

Your stomach lurched up to your throat, and you started to feel incredibly warm despite your sleep shorts, oversized tee, and the AC blasting over your head. You looked over to Natalie’s unmade bed. She likely wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning. A little phone call wouldn’t hurt.

You: Sure. One sec.

joel's pov

A small smirk pulled to the side of his mouth as he pulled back the curtain to look through his scope into your room. Joel was set up in an abandoned dorm across the courtyard. Temporary until the recon team set up cameras, and he could finally go back to his own bed.

You paced around your room, looking at your phone. Visibly nervous as you gave yourself a pep talk. Fuck, you were cute.

The past few weeks, he’d been assigned to you. Keeping an eye on you for Don Sierpente. A nice change of pace from breaking kneecaps and cutting off fingers. His usual mark was easy. Kill or send a message. Make it look like an accident. You, however, were a particular case. He wasn’t supposed to hurt you. In fact, he was supposed to make sure no harm came to you until Don was ready for his move. Keep his distance until his orders suddenly changed this past weekend.

“Get close to her,” Tommy ordered, playing liaison for Don. “We need her to trust you.”

Trust me? The girl was naive, not stupid. But I’d play. Could be fun.

As usual, he had eyes on you while you were at your desk that evening, nibbling on a pen and tapping your foot. You kept making little notes from your forensic psychology textbook. Wearing an oversized t-shirt and cute little pajama shorts, you looked good enough to eat.

“Call me, you sweet little thing,” he murmured, just loud enough for his brother, Tommy, to hear. He rolled his shoulders, raising his eyes to look at Joel, lips tilted downward in a displeased grimace.

Joel's phone rang and he lifted it to his ear, answering, “Joel.”

“H-Hey, um…this is, uh I was just texting you,” your cute voice whispered nervously over the phone.

He could feel his dimple puncture his cheek as his grin widened. “I know. Salutations.”

“Oh, dear God,” you muttered with audible embarrassment.

Your anxious little breaths were endearing. Joel was tempted to stay quiet and wait to see how long it took until you crumbled, babbling about something just to fill the silence.

“So, uh, about the salutations thing. That was an accident.” You twirled a loose tendril of hair around your finger, pacing back and forth in a circle. He liked that, even from a distance, he could watch you squirm.

“You mean you don’t send salutations as a greeting to everyone?” He already knew the answer to that when he got the text and saw you smash your palm into your forehead.

You laughed nervously. “Ha. Yeah…uh, I was supposed to delete that. But it sent so I gave up on getting a text back.”

“Gave up that quick, huh?” Joel teased. “Shame.”

“About five seconds from deleting your contact too.”

Joel gave a mock gasp. “Wow, darlin’, that’s just cruel.”

You made a cute-sounding giggle, finally warming up a little bit. He glanced over at his brother, clearly distracting himself with a text—probably from Eli—before he put his phone down and made a motion to cut the call. Joel rolled his eyes at him, turning away completely.

“Hey, baby girl, I actually have to go. Bossman is walking in.”

The pet name took you off guard, but he liked the way you paced when you were nervous and how you twirled your hair. “Okay. Nice talking to you?” you said more like a question like you weren't sure how to end the call.

“Definitely. I could fall asleep listening to that sweet little voice.” Or jerk off to it, but he wasn’t going to say that. “Talk to you later.”

He hung up, arching a brow at Tommy. “What?”

“Babygirl? Really?” he inquired, crossing his arms.

“You’d like her, Tommy. Just your type,” he smirked. “And if she’s your type, then you know she’s mine.”

“The last time you dated a woman you were attracted to, she turned out to be a raging psychopath,” Tommy commented.

“Exactly. You have better taste in women,” he winked. He raised the scope to get one last eyeful of you before Tommy told him whatever he had to say.

“She’s undressing right now,” Joel baited. You weren’t. It wouldn’t have bothered him, but he knew it bothered Tommy. And it was always fun to fuck with him. Tommy's eyebrows furrowed, frown deepening. Always fucking frowning. Always pissed off.

“You want a peek? She’s got the assets.”

Suddenly, Tommy stood up and ripped the scope out of his hands. “She’s a mark. Not your personal peep show,” he practically hissed.

“You’re telling me that the Don wants me to get close to her, but not fuck her?”

“For the love of God, don’t fuck her. She’s the congressman’s daughter. We’re only watching her as insurance that he’ll follow through with his promise to rule in our favor. Then we leave.”

Well, that was a fucking contradiction. Why would Joel have to get close to her if he had to watch her? “What if she fucks me?”

“For fuck’s sake, Joel.” Tommy pinched his nose in frustration. “Drop it.”

He leaned back, pleased by Tommy's reaction. “She’s been my mark for three weeks and you don’t even know what she looks like.” Joel took a pack of smokes out of his jeans pocket, lighting up right in the room. “Humor me. See for yourself how fucking cute she is.”

“No,” Tommy hissed.

“Why? Do you think you’ll get attached?” Joel pouted his lower lip. “I know you have a soft spot for soft spoken women. I thought you were supposed to be the big bad Tommy Miller and now you won’t even look in the direction of a mark? You’re not even the least bit curious why the Don has his eye on her?”

Joel was baiting him and he knew it. He didn’t even know why he did this, but he liked getting under Tommy's skin. It proved that he still had a heart after all the shit that happened to them. He wasn’t like Joel and he shouldn’t be. He carried all that weight for them so no one else had to feel it. All that stress could break a man down.

Tommy sighed, sitting back down at the table, and taking Joel's scope with him. “Why do you think you were assigned to this?”

Joel raised his eyebrows. “Enlighten me. Why wasn’t Eli assigned for babysitting duty?”

“Because he would start to feel bad about her. You, on the other hand, don’t feel much of anything,” he said.

He was right. The only attachments he had were Tommy and Eli, his brothers. Part of him wondered what it would be like to care. A small little part of him ached for those attachments. But most of him didn’t give a fuck unless it gave him something he wanted.

“Speaking of, he’s flying back from Mexico next week,” Tommy explained.

“About fucking time. I missed the empathetic asshole,” Joel commented. Eli was too nice for this line of work. He wasn’t a good fit for the cartel, but he was trapped in this arrangement. So was Joel. So was Tommy.

They were Don Sierpiente’s lapdogs and there wasn’t jack shit they could do about it. Til the day they died, the old fuck owned them. Tommy at least had enough sense to make himself indispensable. And if Tommy was indispensable, so were the rest of them. Package deal. The Miller brothers. They were a package deal in many parts of life.

Tommy nodded, deep in thought. He didn’t like it when Eli was sent over the border because he never knew if he’d come back. He was sure Eli could handle himself just fine, but Tommy practically raised them, so he still sees Eli as the thirteen-year-old jackass who moved the neighbor’s gnome every morning to make her think it was moving on its own. And Tommy, being eighteen and struggling to help mom make ends meet at the time, felt like he needed to protect Eli from every little thing. Of course, good ol’ Eli doesn’t help his case when he still plays tricks all these years later.

Tommy got up from his seat, still pissed off. This time, not at Joel, it was at whoever was messaging him. Not that he would ever tell Joel what was really going on. Tommy was still trying to protect his brothers. Joel would find it endearing if it didn’t annoy him so much.

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later,” Tommy said as he left before Joel could get a word in. But, he’d done his part. Now Joel just had to watch the pieces fall into place.

your pov

Time for coffee. Your caffeine fix. You were up all night studying for some bullshit math test that had nothing to do with your major, but it was a requirement. Sure, you can remember obscure terms or exactly what someone was wearing at brunch four years ago. But math? Your Achilles heel. So now you had to wake back up before you went to the class you actually liked. You just hoped you survived math long enough to get the credit for your transcript and never have to do an equation ever again.

Your phone buzzed.

Tucking your book under your arm, you reached into your pocket to see a missed message from Joel. You'd only met him a week ago, but you really enjoyed texting him. Your lips quirked into a smile when you saw it.

Joel: Hey, do you want to get a drink with me?

You: Tonight? I can’t. I have a morning class tomorrow.

Joel: That’s a shame.

Your stomach twisted because you did want to get a drink with him. He made you nervous in a good way and…he intrigued you.

You: Tomorrow?

Joel: Tomorrow is good.

Say something flirty.

You: Maybe I’ll let you buy me a drink.

Oh yeah. Hook, line, and sinker. You could pat yourself on the back for that one.

Joel: What else would you let me do?

Instantly, your entire body was hot. You could hear that sentence in his voice. That deep, sexy voice that made your knees wobble when you talked to him on the phone. That sweet-talker. But you'd be lying if you said you didn’t like it. You like how your belly flushed with heat. What would you let him do to you?

You: Buy a girl dinner first, Joel.

You giggled to yourself at that one, shifting foot to foot, still walking toward that coffee shop without a care as to where you were going.

Joel: I’ll take you up on that, baby girl.

Why did you like that? Never once had you ever liked being called baby girl or doll or sweetheart or any pet name, but when Joel said it so nonchalantly on the phone, your thighs tingled. Wetness pooled in your panties, and you didn’t understand why you liked it so much. Joel was an anomaly to you. He drew you in. Sent little shivers down your spine. Whether it was danger or attraction, you weren't quite sure. You were still trying to pinpoint exactly what it was about him. Maybe it was his absolute certainty in himself. The arrogance you could hear in his voice. He knew who he was, and you were still trying to find that out about yourself. Maybe you envied it a little bit. You had this urge to absorb some of that certainty.

Really, it didn’t surprise you. You were a psychology major and therefore hyperaware of how your parents influenced your childhood. You dissect people based on their walk, the flicker in their eyes, and the fluctuations in their voices. You could read just about anyone. Except for Joel. His mannerisms contradicted themselves. He’d say one thing with complete conviction while his body language said something else entirely. You wanted to get into his head and figure out what he was thinking. That came from your mother. She was an alcoholic talk show host who knew what buttons to press to make the best TV. Your father knew how to manipulate people to get what he wanted. A match made in Hell. That’s why they’re divorced.

Some divorced kids would be excited to have two versions of holidays, but while your dad spoiled you rotten, your mother forgot you existed. She’d forget birthdays. Important events. Always absent. Always drunk. Months, you were trapped in her condo, wondering if you'd find her body, finally worn to nothing from years of substance abuse. You would wake up on Christmas day to find her intoxicated on the kitchen floor, knife in her hand, in a pool of her own sick. You never knew what she planned to do with that knife. Was it for you? Or for her?

She’d tell you she was fine. That she wouldn’t relapse again. You had to protect yourself from her. No child should ever have to protect themselves from their parents. She was always lying. Eventually, your dad got full custody of you. He wasn’t much better, but at least you knew he loved you in his own way.

Unfortunately, he overcorrected. And manipulated to “keep you safe”. Your dad was a master manipulator. Your childhood was in the confines of homeschooling and avoiding paparazzi. But the love child of a politician and a public TV personality made for a complicated childhood. It only got worse as you started to grow up. You became anti-social. Cautious. You're still trying to unlearn the survival mechanisms you taught yourself. The flinching and the shaking. The “shut up and smile,” mentality.

Now you were free from your father’s legal ownership of you, but there was only so much behavior you could correct. And that’s why you have an uncanny ability to know when people are lying to you. You swear you're too fucking observant for your own good.

And just as that thought crossed your mind, you ran face-first into an incredibly firm chest. The man’s coffee went flying, saturating a white dress shirt. Your phone propelled across the sidewalk. And your textbook skidded over and tripped a student who got caught up in your acute sense of observation.

“I’m so sorry!” you gasp, trying to salvage his coffee cup, but it’s toast. You didn’t even look up at him as you went for your textbook. Black slacks appeared in front of your vision as he helped you gather your stuff. The first thing you noticed was scarred knuckles. The second thing, his voice.

“It’s fine.”

Your face was boiling. You can’t believe you just did that. Why do you even go outside? His scarred hands outstretched your book and phone to you. You took them, sheepishly looking up into deep eyes. “Thank you,” you said, tucking some of your hair behind your ears. This man couldn’t have been a student. He wore a suit jacket, also stained with coffee. “Your jacket,” you gasped, now seeing the damage you caused. “Oh no. Can I do anything?”

His nose had clearly been broken a few times. His thick dark hair had a few streaks of gray through it, aging him slightly, but you only found yourself more attracted to him. He shrugged his jacket off and you got an eyeful of a soaked shirt clinging to his toned body.

Good Lord.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just get another,” he commented offhandedly.

You felt like you had to do something. You did just completely destroy his shirt. “Please, at least let me get you another coffee. I feel awful.”

He rolled his shoulders and you swear your mouth watered a little bit. First you ran into Joel last week and now you run into another stunningly gorgeous man? “If you insist,” was all he said. But you felt like his lack of speech only made whatever he didn’t say much louder. His mouth was curved downward into a rather aggressive scowl which would typically send anyone else running away, but his shoulders were slack, relaxed. The unconscious language put you more at ease than his face did. You wondered if perhaps the grimace was a defence mechanism. Perhaps developed at a young age–

Stop psychoanalysing everyone. Get it together!

You greeted him abruptly stating your name, outstretching your hand to shake his in greeting. He looked at your hand but didn’t take it. You tried not to take that personally.

“Really?”

You babbled nervously, explaining why you were named what you were named. He watched you closely, still not smiling, but his tongue curved against the inside of his cheek, making it just out a little in an expression you translated as amusement. “I’m Tommy.”

“Well, let’s go get you that coffee, Tommy. I probably already made you late for your meeting.” You tucked your book under your arm, pocketing your phone to not distract yourself anymore. The student you tripped with your book gave you a death glare as you mouthed, “Sorry.”

“Meeting?” Tommy asked.

“Do you wear suits for fun?” you commented, your favorite coffee shop coming into view.

He shrugged. “Not particularly. I work in the area, but I don’t have an office job.”

“Oh, what do you do?”

“Finance,” he stated without missing a beat. A slight fall in his voice. An alteration in his speech pattern. An odd thing to lie about, but he also hadn’t talked long enough for you to determine his speech pattern.

“Oh?”

He diverted the conversation, another indication he was lying. You felt the urge to prod, but you didn’t know this man. Why he was lying was none of your business. Maybe he was sneaking around. Or cheating on his wife. You glanced down at his hands. No ring. Not married. Unless he took it off, but you didn’t see a tan line either.

“Are you a student here?” Tommy asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“Yeah, I’m in my second year. Studying psychology with a focus on criminal psychology.”

“Busy girl then,” he commented, but for some reason it made your insides twist. You felt hyperaware of his gaze. It felt curious even if his scowl said otherwise. People can rarely hide the truth in their eyes.

You chuckled, trying to sound at ease even though your body was twisting and tightening against your control. “That’s me. Busy. Busy.”

There wasn’t a long line at the coffee shop as you went up to the counter and ordered your usual. Iced coffee and a cream cheese danish. You went absolutely feral for their danishes. Homemade and always warm. Your favorite snack between classes. Tommy spoke his order. Medium coffee black. Nothing to dress it up.

“Have you tried their danishes?” you asked, gesturing to the glass case. “I’ll buy you one. They’ll change your life.”

The cashier laughed. “High praise from you.”

His eyebrow twitched and he said, “Fine. I’ll take a strawberry one.”

“Excellent choice,” the cashier stated as he started to get the order ready.

“Tap your chip when you’re ready.”

You nodded, pulling your wallet out of your pocket, but Tommy beat you to it, swiping a platinum credit card. “Hey!” you objected. “Let me get that for you.”

“I have more than enough money. I’m not letting a college kid buy me anything,” Tommy started with a complete monotone.

You brushed some of your unruly hair back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he shrugged. The cashier came back with your orders and Tommy handed you your coffee and danish. His fingertips brushed yours and small shocks erupted up your arm, leaving tingles prickling the hair on your arms. “Consider this a gift.”

You raised both your eyebrows, brushing off the addicting sensation tingling your arms. “For dumping hot coffee all over you?”

The corner of his full lips curled up for a fraction of a second before it was gone. “For the conversation.”

Your breath escaped your lungs and you stood there completely dumbfounded. “You’re welcome.”

“Now,” he held up his paper sack housing a delicious danish, “this danish better change my life.”

“It will,” you promised.

His eyes flickered. “Nice talking to you.”

“You too, Tommy,” you murmured, liking the way his name sounded. Coating your tongue like golden syrup. He nodded and turned away, exiting the coffee shop without another word. Your eyes were glued to him as he left, helplessly gliding down his back to his waist and thighs.

“Huh,” you muttered to yourself as you brought your danish to your lips and took a bite. Flavor exploded across your tongue. Tangy. Creamy. Buttery. Yum. You looked over at the cashier and shouted, “You’ve outdone yourself, Steve!”

The cashier shot you a smile and waved you goodbye as you left. Thankfully, you still had a little time before class to enjoy your coffee.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fanfiction #tommy miller #tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction

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topaz-witch-tea · 4 months

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To your last post: I love a hc that all the protection charms Yanqing wears are from Jing Yuan: he's proud of his student (son) and is confident in his abilities but deep down as a parent he's deeply worried about Yanqing's well-being, especially when he isn't near to personally insure his safety. (and Yanqing certainly doesn't make his life easier, running away to fight criminals and go on solo missions kskdkd). He totally prays to Lan

P.S. I love your fics and headcanons about the HCQ and Yanqing so much! Thank you for writing them!!

Hello!!!! I'm so glad you love my work, I really enjoy making them for everyone to read!!!

I know this reply is a bit late, I am behind on answering all my asks 😅

In canon, I have a headcanon that Jing Yuan took Yanqing in when he was a little baby, barely a month old. Jing Yuan was already so tired of his role and his life when he came across Yanqing. He was absolutely taken in by the baby, who seemed to babble endlessly and cry when Jing Yuan set him down. With this new sense of fatherhood also came a sense of fear and anxiety since babies are so fragile and Yanqing was so, so very curious.

The first was the silver lock charm, which was originally on a silver hoop to prevent Yanqing from choking. Jing Yuan got it not long after he took in Yanqing. The charm was decorated with auspicious symbols for Yanqing to live a long and healthy life. He knew a long life was a small ask for Xianzhou Natives, but he had seen war and knew full well how easy it was to die. Yanqing enjoyed the charm greatly, especially the little tinkling sounds the bells made.

The second was the red string on his ankle, a symbol of protection and good fortune. Yanqing was probably about 6 months old when he got the anklet. A gift from Jing Yuan, he had heard of the tradition from Yukong when she got Qingni and Tingyun a red bracelet. Survival is based on luck 50% of the time and he prayed that Yanqing could receive all the good fortune he could get.

The last one was the bells, a bracelet that was also given to babies for good luck and protection. The bracelet was bought in conjunction with the lock charm but Yanqing had a habit of sticking the bells into his mouth so the bracelet was removed of out of fear it was a potential choking hazard. It was given to Yanqing at 1 year old when he outgrew the phase of shoving things in his mouth and instead started the crawl off. The jingling of the bells quickly signaled his location and allowed everyone to keep an eye on him. In the early years, the bells were the most useful protection charm Yanqing had.

While they did not get rid of his anxiety, they did assuage it a little bit. A little bit of hope for Yanqing's safety and survival and a symbol of Jing Yuan's love for his only son.

Please feel free to send more 🥰

#yanqing #honkai star rail #jing yuan #hsr #I am finally able to answer asks again!!!#This is a backdrop of a lot of Found family angst #An potential ironies #But don't worry I won't hurt Jing Yuan just yet

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ao3gobi17 · 2 months

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Hi I have two questions - What would you have done differently if you’d written AWOW? And if Custody was set in Pandora what would that look like? 🥰

I really loved AWOW and any changes I'd make would be dependant on whether I knew what was coming up in Avatar 3 and beyond.

A couple of things that come to mind are:

1. I don't think it's super clear why Ardmore still has the recoms chasing after Jake after Jake gives up the fight and runs away. If they think he's still leader of the Omatikaya and is just recruiting the Metkayina/drumming up support from other clans I would have made that a little more obvious.

2. It seems like Neytiri giving Spider the scar is meant to parallel Jake giving up leadership earlier in the movie, but I'm not clear on what that parallel is.. presumably its the son for a son thought from Jake later since Spider has never been a leader? I would have either changed the earlier scene or made this more obvious.

3. I think they did a good job with so many characters in the climatic sequences, but there was a lil bit 'one gets captured then freed then another captured and freed, people are split into twos and threes then split into different twos and threes', esp with the kids... I mean I loved it, I'm glad it was a long sequence, but I reckon it needed tightened up, with the Metkayina being a little more visible.

4. This is less for plot reasons and more for selfish reasons but I would have liked one more (short even) Q and Spider scene. Especially during the Seadragon period because they'd got super comfortable with eachother, Spider is now 'betrayed' and upset as Q is decimating these villages and it would have been good for him to have had a bit more animosity towards the Seadragon crew and esp after he sees that they hunt the Tulkun for just the Amrita.

5. I would have had Lo'ak and the other kids name check Spider during the Metkayina sequences - when Jake references him to Kiri when she's upset, it feels like a very barren single reference, like they only just remembered him.

6. I would have only had the one recom die when Neytiri and Jake (and Neteyam) ambush Q to save the kids. I understand that it helped establish Neteyam and it would be weird for Jake to not get a successful kill, but I'd have preferred if after Neytiri's first shot there's just a lot of diving for cover etc like the recoms are actually pretty worth opponents? Would help with the shock impact later of Neytiri's rampage.

7. I probably would have given Payakan a voice... like a telepathy type thing... maybe not using a lot of words and maybe only for Lo'ak but I wanted to get a 'human' vibe from him.

8. I would have de-Americanised Spider and Lo'ak a bit and I would have had Q do the haircut and get clothes on Spider.. It would be good for showing time passing and esp if Spider is slowly reverting back to his original form without Q stopping him, while Q himself is getting more Na'vi.

The Custody question is tricky, because I deliberately went modern AU to avoid Pandora! You could have a scenario where Q appears to have killed Paz but I imagine he'd be court marshalled and sent back to earth or else he'd be 'forgiven' to continue work as normal. Q and the RDA are the main authorities on the human side, so it's less likely we'd see the combo of him stitched him up by someone internally and also remain in his post.

So I guesss... I'd have him captured by the Na'vi? Spider doesn't visit him because of the whole war criminal thing. Jake and co are keeping him alive for intel. Q is still demanding to see Spider that way. He could be recom!Q or regular!Q - and then his team probably rescue him and grab Spider same time?? Or maybe they rescue him and try to find Spider but grab a Sully kid instead and that plays out like the Leo thing but with the comms. I'm not sure the Paz thing would be much of a murder mystery though, so aside from Q attempting to bond with a reluctant Spider, it would prob diverge a lot from the original plot! <3

#gobibside #custody #awow

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11queensupreme11 · 6 months

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ROR! Gods: Awwww such a cute little child!🥰 I’m so glad she didn’t take her father’s personality😊

…

Also Percy: Literally chopped off her fathers ex lovers head and DELIVERED it to his home, Cut a dudes head of because he was taking to long to die, has been know as a criminal more than once,Is quite literally a war criminal… This isn’t even half of what she’s done these are just few of my favourites 😭😭

Anyways unhinged Percy stays 🔛🔝

to add on to that, do you remember procrustes (or crusty)?? the water bed dude from the lightning thief who percy trapped with one of the water beds and then cut his head off??? IN THE GREEK MYTHS PROCRUSTES WAS ALSO SAID TO BE A SON OF POSEIDON 😭😭 girly beheaded her own brother without realizing it ashfuahgvh 💀

i just love how chaotic everyone is in rick's books, percy especially cuz everything is so unhinged with her. she gets pulled in the dumbest but craziest things ever 😭😭

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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scienceoftheidiot · 3 months

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I've grown way too unhinged with these "asks", but I've been meaning to send you this one for a while, so please indulge me!

From what I've noticed, a lot of the Royai fan artists I follow tend to prefer drawing Riza, when they're not portraying her with Roy. But I've noticed that a number of your pieces focused on Roy only, which I find very interesting! Would you say that his character inspires you more than Riza, artistically/creatively speaking? If so, in what ways?

Please tell us more! And thank you, as always <3

Lol not unhinged at all I love to receive asks, I just always forget to reply 🥲🥲 sorry 🥲 so, first, thank you very much for asking ! 🥰❤️

And lol yeah, sometimes I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb among the Royai people. But eh, healthy ecosystems need biodiversity 🤣

I hope my answer isn't too long.

I do have a preference for Roy in drawing, for a number of reasons.

I precise in drawing, because I do love writing Riza, not more than I do writing Roy, but they're relatively even for me - even if, yes, I tend to favour Roy because he's easier for me, there, too.

I like to draw him, because I like his face, expressions and postures, and I like to explore them. He's a fun little guy to draw, when I think Riza is cool AF (and I have a lot to say about her character, too!) but she's not as fun to draw for me (once again I love her and she's in fact the female character I have drawn the most I think, because I have a hard time drawing women, but still, if I'm looking for a quick doodle, I'll go towards Roy).

But yes, they're more or less indissociable for me, and for proof my first fan art for FMA was indeed Royai (here!).

Anyway. While Royai is my favourite ship and I love Riza to bits, my favourite character in FMA is Roy. Roy first. (And my husband has understood that well, he's calling me when we do a rewatch and Roy appears on screen and I'm not watching. Like HURRY ROY IS THERE).

Now, if anyone who knows me from earlier than my FMA obsession reads this, and I describe the utter mess that is Roy, they'll understand that it couldn't have gone any other way. Here's a man in a position of power, who hides everything behind a façade, who's a nerd and highly intelligent (I admit I'm often irked by some posts in the royai fandom. This guy is smart. He's goofy, he's a dork, but he's smart. Book smart, he's a fine tactician, and he can command. Erasing that is erasing part of his identity, and I'm sure part of why Riza loves him, too), has a weird sense of humour even though he can also be intense af, is crushed by unbelievable guilt from his past actions (I admit Roy and Roza both beat all of my previous fixations in that, good job being war criminals, guys 🙃) and intends to repair what he's done as much as he can, one way or another, whose sole goal is to make things better for others/his place/his country, whatever he has to give up for it to work, who inspires others doing that, and who gets badly injured/disabled during the story and keeps going and fighting teeth and nails through it and beyond?

WELL. There is no question I will fall for this dude instantly. This is like. Checking all the boxes for me to be instantly in love with this guy. Like. I think he's actually the only one who checks ALL of my boxes.

I do think however that Roy isn't complete without Riza, and that it's the same on her side (like. I've only tagged my current fic with "codependency" but that's how I write them whatever I write). I'm just fixating on him first, but I still find Riza an awesome character, there's no debate there 😊

Here you go! I've written a novel again lol but I hope I've replied to all your questions. I can talk more about how I see Roy and Riza, I always have more to tell, but really that would just make this even more unpalatable 😅 thank you again for asking 😊

#ask #replies #aicasey

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house-of-slayterr · 1 year

Note

Hello Mx. Writer! It's me again:)

How do you think Maggie and Basil and even V would react to see a Riddler v.s. Victor showdown? Aka how they react to the love triangle?

Hello Anon 🥰 how are you my dear?

Oh god, ok. Victor Vs Ed would be a walking nightmare- but god would I want to watch! Also I know we’re talking our Gotham boys right now, but I can’t help but think about what would happen if Birds of Prey Zsasz tried to fight The Batman’s Ed Nashton… terrifying!

Ed’s love for Y/N is very respect base. She’s a little older then the man and he knows there’s a lot he can learn from her. So perhaps one day when Oswald is really getting on his nerves, Ed goes to Y/N for help with revenge. I mean it’s obvious he’s in love with the boy. Y/N can see it plain as day, so of course she’s going to help the younger villain.

He sees Y/N and Vic fight all the time. Yet they’re still madly in love. Besides he enjoys the thrill of his little feud with her boss. Is Gotham, normal relationships don’t exist. If you haven’t tried to kill each other even once, are you really even a couple? Them spending more time together is totally innocent. Riddler slips in from time to time and tries to crack little jokes and puns at Y/N. He’s not blind, the women is very attractive, but he doesn’t have a death sentence. He knows she’s Victor’s, but a little friendly flirty never hurt anyone right? Besides, he loves to watch her laugh.

And boy is she laughing! You know that classic cackle where you lean back in your chair so far you almost fall, and the other person puts a hand on their shoulder to steady you. That sort of full belly laugh that has a minor insanity behind it. Of course neither of them are sober during these little midnight plotting sessions. That would be no fun. Between the shitty riddles, the booze and plotting to make Oswald so furious the idiot throws a week long tantrum, Y/N feels totally free and giddy. There’s a certain high she gets from strategising a war that’s not serious for once. One where there’s no high stakes, and nobody’s going home having lost something they’d rather not go without.

VICTOR DOES NOT LIKE THIS!! That attention should be his. Her laugh should be from him. Not this low level, criminal wanna be. He looks like a damn leprechaun who sprouted real people legs. And when Victor comes home after a long day, looking for his Wife and finds Nygma with his hand around her. He’s seeing RED!!!!

Despite what everyone thinks, Vic does have impulse control. It’s very little but he does know how to show some self restraint. So he pulls himself away in the moment. Course, he does go out and make it EVERYONE else’s problem. Jimbo better hope he doesn’t run into the assassin on his little rampage. Cause Victor is not afraid to cut anyone down to size who gets in his way. He’s furious, and even if this little friendship was totally innocent, that wouldn’t change fuck all to him. Little does Victor know Y/N planned this. She could help Nygma, while playing the side game to rile her lover up. I mean Vic is way more fun when he’s bloodthirsty. Can’t blame a woman for wanting some excitement, or to be dominated every once in a while.

And Victor is playing right into her plan. If Oswald called a meeting because he’s growing suspicious of this sudden friendship, everyone would have to be there. If there’s one thing Oswald likes, it’s humiliating people. Why do in private what you can do in public instead? Needless to say Maggie and Basil have no clue why they’re being summoned that morning. Oswald’s pretty much locks them all in the room and just glares until someone tells him what he wants to hear. Nobody says anything at first, I mean poor Maggie and Basil have no idea what’s going on. But Victor would be the first to make a move. No words, just a punch straight to Ed’s nose.

He’d pull his gun as the man stumbled back and point it right between his eyes. A challenge to try anything, wether that be making a physical move, or attempting to even speak. Nothing Ed could say would make Victor any less trigger happy.

Maggie is the first to recognise this, and would instantly jump up from here chair.

“Woah, Victor, what the hell are you doing?” She’d ask bewildered.

Victor doesn’t move the gun, just turns his head to look at her and smirks.

“Taking out the trash.”

She’s roll her eyes.

“Nygma, what did you do?” She’s demand.

Maggie might be fairly soft spoken, but everyone could tell there was an urgency in her voice. It was gentle but commanding.

“What makes you think I did anything? The bastards crazy!” Ed defends.

Of course, Basil takes note to the fact that Y/N hasn’t had much of a response to any of this. She never attempted to rise from her seat, and there was no readable emotion on her face. It was suspicious, like she was trying to play innocent. Basil just raises a questioning brow at the woman, who gives no indication she’s going to be revealing anything anytime soon. She just sips from her cup while she watches.

Maggie pinches her brow in annoyance.

“Oswald?”

Despite him very clearly taking a more dominant role in the relationship that they have, Oswald steps forward as if his own mother just called him forward. No hesitation at all. She’d look down at the man.

“Why are we here?”

“They’re plotting something against me, I just know it.” He says, anger in his town.

Maggie hand help the exasperated sigh that leaves her mouth. She’s grown used to playing therapist.

“You’re all hopeless.” She scoffs. “Ok Oz, you’re being paranoid. Nobody in this room is trying to hurt you. Edward, you need to wipe that smug grin off your face, Victor put the damn gun down. And you-“

She’d pause when she gets to Y/N. I mean what can she say, she’s not exactly doing anything. Besides, it would be a weighty punishment if she talked back to the woman. Y/N would raise a challenging brow at the girl, smirking a little.

“Stop being so quiet, it’s creeping me out.” Maggie said, shuddering.

Nothing good ever happened when Y/N was quiet for too long. Quiet meant she was thinking, and hard. Y/N certainly amused by Maggie’s lame attempt at diffusing this situation.

“How can I stop a non-action dear?” Y/N would smirk.

Maggie would just look to Basil for help. He’d just nod his head at Edward, showing he’s the weakest link in the group right now. Maggie would clear her throat and approach.

“Look, Edward, sweetie-“ Riddler does not enjoy her tone right now. “You’re going to have to fess up to what you did sooner or later. Or else none of us are leaving this room. And I swear to you, if I have to miss going to the bookstore with Jim to pick out Bruce a book for his birthday, I am going to rip out your spleen and make you crawl across hot coals to get it back.”

She wasn’t fucking around. If anyone hated plans being interrupted more than Y/N, it’s was Maggie. And plans with Jim none the less, she was currently wanting to scream.

“Wait you’re going book shopping with Jim?” Oswald asks.

Everyone can hear the slight jealousy in his voice. Despite him not sharing affection for the girl in that way, didn’t mean he had to enjoy anyone else showing her said affection.

“Yeah, Bruce has been talking about this specific book for months, only place I can find it is down in the offered. Jim offered to go with me, probably cause he has no idea what to get the kid and wants to leach off my gift. But whatever.”

Not true. Everyone in that room new it’s because Jim didn’t want her alone in the narrows. Always the gentleman, that man. She tried back to Riddler.

“So you’re going to sit down and start talking, or so help me god I’ll just let Victor shoot you.”

Nobody really knew if the girl was being serious.

“I’m serious, I didn’t do anything wrong. Is having friends illegal now?” He questioned.

“Now I get it.” Basil chimed in. “Victor you jealous bastard, you do know your wife is allowed to talk to people right? That’s a basic human right.”

Victor would growl, wanting to shoot the younger man as well.

“Ed, apologise to Victor for making him insecure. Y/N apologise to Oswald for making him paranoid. And Victor, put the fucking gun down before I shove it up your scrawny ass. I’m not fucking around today guys, I don’t have time for this shit.”

“That time of the month?” Victor asked.

Yeah that would be the last straw. Screw an actual showdown between Victor and Edward, right now this was about to be between Victor and God. Of course Victor is going to be holding a grudge on Edward for a long time. Messing up the man’s plans and trying to shoot him at practically any opportunity they have when Maggie’s out of sight. Victor thinks Maggie’s and innocent little kitty cat, and frequently makes fun of the girl for being so soft. But, he’s also seen her shot Sofia with no hesitation because Jim was involved. Honestly he was pretty proud of her for that.

Maggie would turn back to him bewildered.

“What did you just say?”

Oh, she’s bold with it. To talk to the Victor Zsasz like he wasn’t gripping a fully loaded gun right now. Basil would be quick to step in, stepping between his big sis and Victor. Of course he’d love to watch her throw a punch at the guy, but he also knows it’s a fight she can’t win. And nobody in that room is thinking straight. He’d pull her backward into a hug, trapping her against him so she can’t move. She’d put up a valiant effort, kicking and grumbling to try to get out of his arms. Even going so far as to bite him, but he’s undeterred.

“Fine, the two do you kill each other for all I care. And Y/N, I hope whatever you’re planning is worth it.”

She’d convince Basil to let her go.

“I’m getting out of here, Basil you’re on family therapy duty today. Whatever blood is spilt, they’re cleaning it up. If I come back and see a maid doing that shit, I’m setting this entire house on fire with both of them inside.”

She’d walk over to Oswald and kiss him on the cheek. As she does so she swipes the keys from his pocket and walks toward the door. Everyone watches as she goes.

“Be back later, love you all!” She’d say, a clear attempt to try and push down any anger she was feeling.

She didn’t want her mood to be sour when she met up with Jim. As the door shut behind her, everyone just turns to look back at Y/N.

“Oh she’s definitely on her period.” Y/N concluded with a smile. “You heard what the lady said, she wants blood she’d and carnage.” She would sip her drink, even further amused as it dawns on everyone they’ve been used.

“Unbelievable.” Basil says, shaking his head.

But sitting down to watch as Y/N just hands him the full bottle of wine she’d been nursing.

“You’re insane.” Oswald grumbles as he also goes to leave the room.

Victor and Edward just stand there dumbfounded, not sure what to do next. Victor cracks his knuckles.

“I’m going to give you a five minuet head start.” He tells the man in green.

“One- Two-“

Yeah, Edwards supposed to be a genius, so he doesn’t even wait for three before he’s sprinting for the door. He’d have to think of a good way to shake Zsasz. They’d watch after him until he was out of sight. Victor just turns back to his wife.

“You’re not going after him are you?” She asks amused.

“No, that idiot can die tomorrow, you on the other hand-“

And Basil takes that as his que to leave. He knows where all that pent up rage is going to leave. And frankly he doesn’t want to see them hate fuck each other.

An; lol I love sassy Maggie in this chapter. I was just in a silly goofy mood today guys, so so is she. We all know Edward ran to the Sirens club to hide.

@keffirinne @flaysthings @howl-fantasies

#gotham headcanons #Gotham #Gotham oc #Basil Zor el #ask fang #Maggie #magnolia #magnolia blossom #villain oc #Victor Zsasz #Ed Nygma #Victor Vs Riddler #the riddler

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killerbananas · 2 years

Note

Goodness where do I begin with what I’ve, or rather ‘we’ve’ been up to since you were gone - it’s hard to explain but essentially as a veteran here who watched me sentence Scribs from the beginning and know the running Kabal joke, it’s only right.

Remember that criminal map I made with all my moots who I deemed fit for horny jail? That’s an actual thing now with a trailer and timeline too. In fact members have been writing for it too or responding with memes 😂😂😂😂😂 it’s uhhhhh a little hard to explain and catch up but I’ll try and summarise.

On the 29th of May I announced my (Judge Clare’s) war on horny and named the culprits and then random stuff ensued back and forth as per the timeline.

THEN OMFG - a random person named Kritika (@dassmyname) self proclaimed herself as consigliere leaked a s*x tape between Judge Clare wand Judge Zeke that’s when the madness started.

Then Judge Clare was miserable and stuff and Erwin was like no don’t worry I’ll handle it. At this point Clare is astranged from her adopted Kabalian daughter Shrekky - @shrekisshrimpthesimp (her father is like the king of the original kabalians, his name is Pablo Shrekscobar)!

Kritika then tries to tell the world that Erwin, shrekscobar and zeke are their leaders and want the world to embrace horny but Clare ignores it completely.

Zeke keeps visiting the Gulag to see Scribs because he’s low-key obsessed with her and wants some sksksks. He wants Scribs to throw her fellow kabalians under the bus especially now that Kritika was receiving burried intel about zeke and Erwin’s involvement with the original Kabal. Scribs never does and it winds him up. Immensely. He tries to offer her deals but she keeps declining.

THEN ONE DAY - teddy bears were sent to Kabalian members But it almost kills Shrekky (she still in a coma)

Out of panic- Kritika tries to break Scribs out of prison but is caught by zeke and the anti horny task force and zeke is furious because she offered Scribs a deal and it was house (compound) arrest in heaven. But she ruined it by trying to escape him. Kritika and Scribs go back to horny jail.

Clare is miserable at this point and she doesn’t want leave her daughters side, mayor Gojo and DA Nanami reassure her and he helps a little. Clare is thinking of resigning for good.

Then Erwin being Shrekky’s stepdad did his own research and find out Shrekky’s attempted killer.

Koula then starts thinking that maybe Clare sent the bombs to deflect from her sex tale.

BUT THEN - the audience finds out it was Clare’s assistant Rose that sent the bears that nearly killed Clare’s daughter shrekky.

Erwin is fixated on catching his stepdaughters attacker he ask Hange to speak to Erwin’s gangster sister, Sofiya. Hange did so and arrange for the suspect to be silenced.

Medea (@soaringmirror) being an FBI agent working with agent Jean connecting the dots discovered officially that Rose is the culprit. And she’s a known psychopath whilst Mr Chin was an accessory to crime.

Erwin visits Koula and Slav and he threatens them saying he going to protect his daughter. He blows up all her electrical appliances in the vicinity with an emp. just to send a message to them, and maki time to go on. Miche tried to kill Shrekky but he fell in love with her.l

😩😩😩 that’s the story for now I’m sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors I’m literally writing this as I fall asleep.

Ps. Zeke is about to have his whole world rocked by Scribs. Also @tonaken is my soro-sis from law school so there’s some really funny back and forths between us.

Holy. Shit. Babe(s!)!!! This is a fucking tale here of epic proportions and I'm so proud of all you horny gremlins 😩👏👏👏 six weeks was jam packed 😂 I'm keeping this for historical evidence. This is like my new soaps 👀 also pls add me to these taglists if I'm allowed because I don't want you to have to write a novel every time to keep me abreast 🥰💗

#the kabalians #bella luna #buzzing with kbee

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musical-chick-13 · 9 months

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CERSEI AND MISA. okay thanks. wait also Near. if you please,

CHARACTER BINGO LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOO

Cersei

I need to clarify that when I say, "I can fix her," I mean "I would make her feel loved and happy and special," I do NOT mean, "I would make her stop Doing Crimes." Why would I want that. She did get a lot of truly excellent content in the show, but I do think they underutilized her in the last season, unfortunately. DEFINITELY underappreciated by the fandom. And the "crack my spine" thing is probably not the most accurate way of phrasing my feelings, but it was the closest option to "I'd gladly let this character murder me." I'm not putting "pretty privilege" because while in my objectively correct opinion she IS the most beautiful woman of all time, this fact did not do her any favors in either canon or fandom. Also, lol at "probably a deep-seated reason," there are definitely many reasons and I know EXACTLY what they are. And although--given the feral (derogatory) nature of this fandom--I probably shouldn't discuss Cersei irl, I love this character SO MUCH that I just. Always do anyway. Literally I am incapable of shutting up about her.

(Sadly, I am in the middle of writing something that Puts Her In Situations. But it's not anything beyond what she already experiences in canon, and it'll all be okay in the end. And most importantly, I 100% know this is not fair, so she gets to get away with murder. As a treat 🥰)

Misa

.....I just realized that the "need them that is concerning..." square might have been intended as like. A sexual thing. When I had interpreted it as "I need to see this character on my screen as often as possible." I am too lazy to edit the bingo board and reupload the picture, so just know that I meant the second thing. 😅

So THIS time, when I say "I can fix them," I mean, "She's my bestie and younger sister, and I'd make her go to therapy." Why does the "projection" space have a circle on it? Don't worry about it. I don't think I'd put her at "white noise" level because that is a VERY specific character tier for me, but I need. I! NEED! Her to be okay. EVERYONE IS SO MEAN TO HER EVEN THE GUY WHO CREATED HER CHARACTER. There is so much there!!! The way she never processed her trauma! The way she deconstructs the idea of obsessive devotion/the manic pixie dream girl! How a retributive MURDER that wasn't even about her at all is the only thing she has ever registered as a Positive Act! The way that these things coalesce into a dissatisfaction with life so great that (barring one specific, immovable goal) no kind of success or admiration is ever enough!!! She just wants to be loved!!!!! One of the most viscerally universal human emotions!!!!!!!!!!! Like, it was very obvious that Ohba didn't care about her at all, but guess what!!!! He accidentally created a really interesting and complicated character anyway!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm totally FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (For more thoughts, go here.)

WATCH THE MUSICAL, THEN YOU'LL ALL GET IT. (<-is foaming at the mouth and barking like a rabid dog while scaling the walls)

Near

"Probably a deep-seated reason" once again, lmao, like I don't know exactly what the reason is. (The way this has been true of all three characters.........) PEOPLE DON'T LOVE HIM ENOUGH. HE'S THE BEST LITTLE GUY, BUT MOST OF THE TAKES ARE SO BAD AND UNFAIR. WHY DON'T PEOPLE GET IT???!!?? (Okay, there's definitely a general idea/theory regarding why. As You Know.) Not really sure what I mean by "I can fix them" here, but there isn't a "I want to make sure they have support and are okay at all times" square, so I think this is close enough.

SO many times I have said, literally out loud, "He's just like me for real." So um. There's that. And Near might not be a war criminal/mass murderer/etc., but I would still like to emphasize that he has never done anything wrong ever in his entire life. :)

#thank youuu 💜#ALSO about cersei's 'pretty privilege' thing: one of her biggest Issues™ is being told as a child that someone prettier than her will #eventually ruin her life #/ALSO/ also I have a general rule that I do not talk about dn irl because I do NOT have the emotional fortitude to handle running into #certain pockets of this fandom like that is NOT a risk I am willing to take #(tbh some of my opinions I don't even put ~ONLINE~)#(which I'm well aware that that's gonna be Ask Bait but trust me GENUINELY it's better for all of us if I don't say anything)#multi t(ASK)ing #this was so fun!!! I hope more people send characters in 😊

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incorrectmadrigalfamilyquotes · 2 years

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Pepa: I have never done anything wrong, ever, in my life.

Félix: That's entirely false, and I love you.

#she's his little war criminal 🥰#madrigal family #pepa madrigal #félix madrigal #encanto #encanto incorrect quotes #family bonding?#incorrect quotes #encanto pepa #encanto félix

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

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Play ‘em (like a violin)↬ p.p

AN: The anon who requested this... your mind 😌😌 beta read by the amazing @portraitoforion 🥰🥰🥰 (seriously she’s the best, go check out her stuff)

Requests are CLOSED

Warnings: needles (mentioned), your normal villain shit, hot peter parker, you’ll get the sweats (probably lmao), alcohol.

WC: 2.6k+

Request (summary): if you’re looking for something more eventful, you could do some sort of intense interrogation thing where one sits the other down and tries to get information out of them but they’re being stubborn so they have to resort to other methods

Pairing: Peter Parker x Villain!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

“Why do I have to go in?” Peter groaned, tossing his head back at the older men behind him. Tony and Rhodey gazed back at him, twin expressions of pity and deadpan on their faces, as if it was their fault he was about to interrogate a criminal responsible for many death crimes. Which, in his defense, it was.

Peter hadn’t been working with SHIELD for long. He had signed with the accords once he turned eighteen. Tony collaborated with DODC and the lawyers of Hell’s Kitchen to ensure that the amendments were safe for enhanced individuals, in hopes of sorting out the mess that was the raft and Ross’ resignation.

For the most part, Peter liked to stay behind the scenes when he wasn’t playing Spider-man, and today was one of those days. He hadn’t been to too many interrogations, but for the ones he could recall - usually with him lingering behind Natasha as she had some war criminal by the neck - they were messy.

So, so messy.

“What makes you think that I’ll be able to get something out of her?” Peter groaned. Another agent had come out of the room where you were, decidedly pissed at his failure.

He looked at you through the pane. You sat stoically, one leg swung over the other, your feet perched up on the table. Your hands were uncuffed and folded under your chest. He could see the vibranium band on your wrist, red and green lights blinking as you smirked at him.

Or at least he assumed you were, you couldn’t see what was going on outside due to the one-way glass. And yet, he felt a shiver travel down his spine as you straightened up, rising from the metal chair to stroll toward the glass.

He was sure those lips of yours would be embedded into his brain, permanently, like a tattoo that he couldn’t remove - even if he wanted to.

“She keeps saying she won’t talk unless it’s you.” Rhodey said, shrugging. Like it was that simple. “Think she’s got the hots for you.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, quickly fixing the colonel with a sharp glare. You were a criminal. He had to keep his head straight. And yet, he couldn’t help but regard Rhodey’s words as his eyes lingered a little longer, tracing the sway of your hips and legs that he would love to spread under his fingers, heat rising up his cheeks as your grin broadened. He was sure you could see him, because there was no way you could have such a good estimate of his position from a non look through glass.

For a SHIELD base, this one sure seemed to be faulty.

“Colonel Rhodes, she’s a criminal! If your clearly subpar interrogation techniques didn’t work, what makes you think she would answer me? That she’ll comply with my requests?” He asked, crossing his arms defensively.

“Look kid, I know a lie when I see one. I don’t think she’s lying this time.” Rhodey said, desperation evident in his tone. “And Fury will have our asses if we don’t know the exact location of the weapon by dawn tomorrow. So please, go in. We trust you, Parker.”

Nodding, he stiffened his shoulders, breathing deeply before he looked at the older men.

“What if… what if I don’t succeed?” Peter gulped, looking at them with his big brown eyes that even melted the coldest of hearts.

“Then you tried your best kid, and we’ll be proud of you anyway.” Tony spoke, brows furrowed, before pulling him into a side hug.

Giving one last nod to his father-figure/mentor and, basically, uncle, he squared his shoulders and walked into the room, determination seeping through his pores.

"They finally sent you huh, pretty boy?" You bit your lip as you diligently sat on the chair, fingers intertwining into a fist in front of you, checking your cuticles as if they were the only thing in the room worth your interest,”Took them long enough.”

You feigned innocence on your features, eyes wide and lips parted, but, heck, if Peter was going to fall for it. He kept reminding himself why he was here.

Ask questions. Attend the briefing. Go back home to Ned and Gwen. Maybe meet Michelle in the Indian coffee house near Brooklyn, too.

No hassles. Easy right?

Easier said than done. He was already sweating in places he shouldn't be, and he hadn't even said a word, yet your piercing gaze had him swallowing bile down his throat, his insides twisting and burning. This was more difficult than he thought it would be.

He had been crime fighting since he was fourteen, but never had he been so intimidated by a criminal before. But then again, you were an international criminal, so he figured he was right to be scared.

Right?

Gulping, he sat down on the chair, clearing his throat loudly, wincing as the noise echoed in the small cubicle, “Don’t call me that.” He muttered, clearing his throat again as it clogged up when you leaned closer, eyes squinting to look directly into yours.

“What did you say?” You tilted your head. It was adorable, the way he walked around eggshells near you. Ever since you had seen him on-screen during one of your many missions, you had wanted to, to put it simply, fuck him.

“D-don’t call me that, pretty boy. don’t call me.” He spoke, inhaling as you crept closer. Your movements were stealthy, a cat ready to pounce, inching nearer and nearer, towering over him as he looked at you from his position on the chair. He really wished you were cuffed up right now.

Something about your presence made his blood run cold, rushing down south at a rapid rate as his heart pounded in his chest. He felt dizzy, sweat pooling on his forehead. He really hoped he wouldn’t blow this off just because he nearly had a boner for an attractive criminal. He wasn’t about to disappoint Tony. He could do this. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by some pretty face he was supposed to be interrogating, not the other way round.

Yet here he was, in awe by your presence, shivering like a damn fool when he was supposed to be gathering intel. Gosh, he really needed a drink. Tony owed him one.

“You’re gonna have to speak louder if you want me to tell you anything here, spider-boy.” You quipped, grinning ear-to-ear like a devil. “Tick.Tick.The location of the lab isn’t gonna reveal itself. Just sitting there, all those chemicals aching to... blow.”

Your lips split open into an O at the last word, and Peter’s gaze flickered to your lips once, twice before locking onto your gaze.

“Why are you so willing to tell me everything. Is this a game to you? A money heist and not a ticking time bomb that could harm millions of civilians, innocent people?” Peter said finally, biting the bullet as he met your eyes for the first time.

He saw you squint again, bringing a finger to your chin as you pretended to think. Heat rose inside Peter at your arrogant attitude, blood boiling at how casual you were being right now. And bratty too.

“You’re not like the others.” You said flatly, plopping down on the chair with a pout adorning your face.

“What do you mean not like the others?”

“Usually when people interrogate me, they're too busy staring at me or my tits. They don’t call me a seductress for no reason you know.” You stretch your hands across the table so that they reach Peter’s. “But you don’t seem deterred at all by my presence. Are you gay, or something?”

Peter sputtered at your deduction, retracting his hands to ignore the surge of electricity that your touch brought, “w-what? No! I’m- I’m not gay. Well yeah, I’ve dated men before but- stop distracting me!”

“You’re doing it to yourself Spidey, I just asked you a simple question. I know how to read expressions on men, I’ve done it my whole life. Why can’t I read yours? Aside from the nervousness, you seem completely unbothered by my presence.”

“Maybe you’re as good as you think.”

“That’s not true!” You barked, teeth baring.

“Apparently it is. And we’re not here to discuss my facial expressions anyway. Where is the weapon?” He asked, finally calming down from the surge of adrenaline in his veins.

“What exactly am I gonna get if I tell you? I owe you nothing.” You hissed, eyes as wild as your posture.

“Listen, you’re a criminal, so you’re going to prison one way or another. You either tell me the location, we let you go, and you’ll go to a maximum-security prison in Quantico - safe and sound - or we do this the hard way.” He said slowly, pointing at the window that covered half the wall. “Outside that window? The world’s most dangerous people are standing, not even six feet away. So the choice is yours really, how much blood are you willing to shed?”

“You’ll have to do more than just threaten to sic the world’s mightiest heroes on me, baby boy.” You smirked. You were well aware of the threats lingering on your head, and even the attractive man sitting in front of you couldn’t make you care less about your safety.

Peter wasn’t an impatient person. All his life, he was known for his unnervingly calm personality. But something about this rapidly heating up and seemingly fruitless situation irked him, he felt like he was on the end of his nerves, desperate for the results that he pushed the table with his bare hands, super strength causing it to scrape against the floor harshly, making you stumble.

Swiftly getting up from the chair with a loud screech, he wrapped his hands around your neck, twisting your hand behind your back and smacking you face-first on the table.

The sudden change of atmosphere startled you, your breathless wheezes sounding like harsh whispers against his skin. You had successfully riled him up, crawling underneath his skin with a grin that could rival Lucifer’s.

“Didn’t know you were so desperate to get me under you spidey.” You grinned, licking your lips as you twisted your neck to watch his livid expression, whimpering when he thrusted you forward, the pain of your twisted hand clouding your mind and your judgment.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Where is it?” He hissed in your ear, the hiss of a hypodermic needle appearing in his hands startling you, eyes widening. Real fear crept up your spine, mouth wobbling at the possibility of being drugged.

“I don’t know! I don’t know I swear, I’m just the messen-”

“Stop lying!”

“You don’t want to do this Peter.” You said desperately, looking at him with fearful eyes, but he didn’t budge. His hold on you was tight, rendering you immobile and useless underneath him.

“That’s not for you to decide.” He growled, holding the needle dangerously close to your neck.

“I’m serious Peter. You don’t want to become like them, do you? Don’t let them turn you into another one of their robots.” You said, cowering as your chest heaved, heart pounding in your ears harshly.

“You can’t trick me anymore.” He gasped, thrusting the needle near you. You scrunch your eyes, waiting for the pain and the fading view to come, but none of that happened. You gasped, sweat staining your eyelids as you saw the needle embedded in the table next to you, cracking at the edges. “Tell me the damn location!”

“I don’t know the-”

“Stop lying! Just tell me!”

“Tucson! Tucson, Arizona! 1516 E, 20th street, Southern Arizona Laboratories.” You cried out, grunting as he released your palms. You internally kicked yourself for giving in so easily. It was fun, playing with him, but your attempts at seducing him were fruitless.

He looked stoic, so different than when he had come in that it grated your nerves. Next thing you knew, he was leaning into your ear, dragging his hands up to your elbows and squeezing the joint, “good girl.” He whispered, making you shudder.

Standing up, he walked towards the door, his movements brisk. Gasping for a breath, he leaned against the closed door, closing his eyes as he rubbed his temples to abate the sudden tension in them.

“Never ask me to do that again.” He gasped, looking at Rhodey and Tony’s smirking faces.

“It’s okay kid. You did good.” Tony smiled, ruffling his sweaty curls and pulling him for a second hug of that day. “We owe you a drink.”

“Got that right.” He huffed, shaking his head.

The briefing was one of the most awkward briefings Peter had ever done, now that he remembered the events clearly in his mind. He tried to shake off the thoughts about you, your grin and how you looked pretty under him, the things he could do to you, all while looking straight at Nick Fury’s scrutinizing eye.

“Whoa slow down, tiger! We don’t need to empty the entire bar in a day, not even with your freakishly fast metabolism,” Tony said, coming behind him to take the glass of whiskey which he was about to drown.

The downside of his metabolism other than the constant hunger was that he hardly got drunk. But today, with you invading his thoughts, the burn of a glass of whiskey was enough to get him drunk.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked quietly, pouring himself one too.

“About how I could do much better in life, you know, stuff other than interrogating criminals,” Peter said, giving him a deadpan stare that he had mastered from years of knowing Michelle.

Tony gave a laugh, huffing at him when he saw that Peter was being serious. “Sure kid. But you chose this life, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

And that was it. That night, Peter dreamt of you, your intoxicating scent taking over his nostrils like an animal hunting down its prey.

Getting up from his bed, he scoured the hallways barefoot, clutching his wrist nervously, a habit he had unconsciously picked from Tony, and walked towards the elevator.

Just a few floors below the penthouse was the interrogation room, and then the isolation room. Just a few floors below, you were there, chained up and probably dozing off peacefully, not knowing what was about to come your way.

“FRIDAY, take me to basement six will you?” Peter said.

“Authorisation denied.”

“What?”

“You will need permission to go down Peter.��

“Fuck.” He muttered, eyes widening when he realized that he could maybe use his employee badge. It had the highest security level since he lived in the penthouse occasionally. Running to get the badge, he quickly scanned the RF-ID, sighing in relief when the elevator moved.

“Would you like some music, Mr. Parker?”

“No thanks, FRIDAY. It’s an elevator ride.”

Walking through the hallway was more intimidating than he had thought. Looking around the blank walls and guards roaming around, he tiptoed his way through the cells before finally stopping at yours.

He felt his heart race when he saw your slumped figure behind the glass walls, making sure no guard was in his vicinity, scanning his badge to open your door with a hiss. You were wearing light blue prison overalls, thrashing and turning at the hissing sounds of the doors, arousing you from your unrestful slumber.

“Y/n, hey wake up! Hey, hey don’t panic it’s just me- be quiet. Don’t want them to hear, do you?” Peter said, towering over you. You watched with your mouth hung open as he held a finger to his lips, excitement brewing in your tummy in a tight coil.

“I thought you never wanted to see me again.” You said, biting your lips as he moved closer.

“Looks like you’re not the only liar in this house.”

A/N: Lemme know your thoughts!! <3

#peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter x reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker whump #college!peter parker x reader #fml the tags aren't working AGAIN #spideygirl writes

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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years

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Dance with the devil!

Pairings: Demon!Javier Pena x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, fluff, cursing, angst, demons.

Summary: Javier made a deal with the devil to catch Escobar, now he has to pay the price. Become a demon and collect souls. What happens when your name is on his list?!

A/N: just a bit of Halloween 🎃 fun!

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🥰

At the time he didn’t think it would work, believed it was a hoax, how wrong he was. Vanessa had mentioned it in bed after a round of vigorous sex, said she had made a deal herself long before she came to Columbia. Things were bad with Escobar and he thought what’s the worst that could happen!

He had signed on the dotted line, easy peasy. His soul for this to end. Escobar was shot and killed, it was finally over. Only it wasn’t over, it never is when it comes to the war on drugs. The Cali cartel had to be taken down so when he called upon the devil again, he had nothing to offer, so the devil made a deal with him. Javier would take down the godfathers and in exchange he would become a demon, collecting souls. He agreed, he had nothing left to lose.

He’s lost count of the years that have passed since he collected his first soul, too many and so many souls. With each soul he collected he lost a little bit of himself until he was convinced there was nothing of Javier Pena left at all. He was hollow, unburdened by emotions or sentiment, and felt no remorse for the bodies he left in his wake. He had completely given in to the evil that consumed him, he was truly a demon now.

He had his fun of course, some of the women who’s souls he took were beautiful and he still had human urges, so he took his pleasure from them, gave them some too as their souls left their bodies. He never once hesitated to follow his orders, no matter how much they pleaded, as far as he was concerned if you made the deal, you paid the price. No, not once did he hesitate, not until you.

He had been given his list of names, mostly criminals, terrorists or rich assholes who valued money more than life. He easily crossed them off one by one until he saw your name. A flicker of recognition flashed behind his eyes, but it couldn’t be you, you died.

Standing over your sleeping form he studied your face, the subtle changes that only he would know. He was the only one who truly knew you, knew your body, and you were the only one he ever let in. You were his everything, are his everything, and as he stood there watching you sleep peacefully, he wondered what you wanted so badly that you sold your soul for it. He couldn’t let you see him like this, did you even remember him. He had many tricks up his sleeve to get what he wanted, one of them was to manipulate your dreams.

You're at the bar in Columbia where he first saw you, wearing the exact same red dress that had him harder than a rock. You’d been sent over to help him and Steve with Escobar and although he was reluctant to work with you at first, you had proved your worth. It started with flirting, him complimenting your outfits and bringing you coffee., and over the months it slowly moved to a friends with benefits relationship. The agreement, no feelings just sex, but he had broke his own rule after just a month. He had fallen madly in love with you, wanted you for himself.

You turn towards him, a huge smile on your face.

“You made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss our anniversary for the world baby. Now how about we skip straight to dessert?”

It was frantic, hands touching any part of skin they could find. Like two love sick teenagers. He helped remove your dress before quickly stripping out of his own clothes. You were lying back on his bed staring up at him with such love in your eyes, you looked so beautiful.

“Javi, are you going to keep me waiting?”

He climbs up your body, kissing and nipping at your skin until he is in line with your core. With one thrust he buries himself deep inside you, the feeling of your cunt engulfing him making him shiver in pleasure.

“Mierda! I forgot how tight you are.”

You laugh at him a little, “since yesterday?”

“You know what I mean.”

Javi wanted to savour this moment, the feel of you around him so he took his time, moving in and out of you slowly. Nipping and sucking on your breasts as he thrusts into you. The sounds you made were like music to his ears. He has you coming hard, gushing all over his cock, his name on your lips like a prayer. He’s not far behind you as your cunt clenched around him, pulling him in like a vice grip. He’s spent as he lays on top of you, his seed seeping out of you slowly. Your fingers run through his hair and he swears his heart flutters at the sensation. He looks up at you now, your beautiful eyes captivating him as they always did.

“It’s time.”

He thinks you will fight him, or better yet that you won’t know what he means, but you surprise him yet again.

“I know! I’ve been waiting for you to come.”

Now he’s the one confused. Had you known all along what he was?

“Javi, I've been searching for you since you left Columbia. I know you thought I was dead but I wasn’t and when Steve told me, I made my own deal. All I wanted was one more moment with you, to be able to hold you. I love you Javier Pena, always have, always will.”

Javier Pena was a shell of the man he once was, hollow, unburdened by emotions or sentiment, and felt no remorse for the bodies he left in his wake. He felt nothing, until you held him in your arms and whispered I love you Javier Pena.

“I love you too, hermosa. There is a way for us to be together, for you to live.”

“Anything, if it means we can be together.”

“You can become like me, a demon, collecting souls for the devil. It is the only loophole…”

“Yes! Make me a demon. I’ll do anything, become anyone for you.”

He kisses you passionately until the last breath leaves your body. He pulls away looking down at you with a flicker of love behind his eyes. He watches, he waits. You open your eyes and stare at him with black eyes before they flicker back to their natural colour.

“Welcome home mi amor.”

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @jediknight123 @hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @the-mandalorian-066 @spanishmossmagnolia @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme@luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat @heartofjakku @tintinn16 @amneris21 @avengers-fixation @drinkingwhileblogging @evyiione @goddessofsprings @mylovelycomandante @pastatomata @pjkimrn @1#FreakShow @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @paintballkid711 @hocuschlocus @allthe-ships @thewintersoldierswife @practicalghost

#pedro pascal #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fan fiction

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