#ticklish!whiskey
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The Ol' Kentucky Welcome
Summary: Eggsy’s attitude gets him into trouble at Statesman HQ. Whiskey and Tequila show him how they handle mouthy recruits with too much pride.
Anon: Hey! Love your work. I was trying to think of something I haven't read. So, kingsman and golden circle. Maybe eggsy, whiskey, and Tatum s characters get real drunk one night, start teasing each other and a full out brawl of a tickle fight happens!!! You can do it!!! Thanks!
Loose handwaving at and spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle.
Becoming a Kingsman had done wonders for Eggsy’s impulse control and sense of self. He’s got restraint now, and better judgement—he doesn’t blindly chase a whim without considering the consequences first.
This is what he tells himself as he poaches a bottle of premium Statesman Reserve whiskey from a supply closet rather ominously labeled ‘This Ain’t For Sharing, Friend’. He makes sure to shuffle the bottles to disguise the large gap left behind on the shelf.
He settles in at the Statesman briefing room table, loosening his tie and shirt collar. He unbuttons his jacket and, in a rare flash of bad manners, kicks his feet up onto one of the nearby chairs.
The thought of Harry scolding him for it tugs at chest.
“Now what do we have here?” Whiskey whistles lowly, ducking into the doorway. Tequila fits in beside him. Eggsy gives a mocking salute before popping the cork on the bottle. He grabs a polished crystal glass from a platter on the table and pours himself a hefty bit.
“Looks to me like we’ve got a thief, Whiskey.” Tequila arches his brow. “Y’ain’t learned your lesson yet, Galahad?”
“Gentlemen.” Eggsy smirks and lifts his glass. The sharp kiss of the liquor burns his tongue, but it washes back with a smoky smoothness unlike anything he'd ever tried. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the slight twitch of Whiskey’s eyebrow in response.
“Thought you fancy-types were supposed to be polite.” Whiskey puts his hands on his hips.
“And I thought you brutish types couldn’t make something so delicious.” Eggsy angles the glass in the light. The liquid seems to glow.
Tequila ducks past Whiskey and takes a seat at the table, helping himself to a glass. He clinks glasses with Eggsy and they share another sip. Both of them sigh in unison, sinking deeper into their chairs. Whiskey throws Eggsy’s feet off his chair and takes a seat.
“You’re lucky I ain’t reportin’ you to Ginger Ale for theft.” Whiskey fixes himself a glass. He takes off his hat and rests it on the table. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.
“Report me for what?” Eggsy cocks his head. “You fine, upstanding gentlemen cracked open a bottle of your own reserve to share with your guest and I just had to say yes. Would hate to be impolite.”
Whiskey glares. Eggsy sips innocently.
“I like this motherfucker, Whiskey.” Tequila laughs, muffling himself in his fist. Whiskey shifts his glare.
“‘Course you do. You can’t keep your mug outta trouble to save your life.”
“Least my mug ain’t ugly,” Tequila grumbles. Eggsy snorts. Whiskey turns to fish for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. As he leans forward, a silver shine peeks out of his pants pocket. Eggsy gently plucks a shiny lighter from Whiskey’s pocket and tucks it into his own.
“Champagne mentioned you’re a cheeky bugger.” Eggsy knocks shoulders with Tequila and winks.
“I dunno what that means.” Tequila frowns. They both watch Whiskey fumble around for the lost lighter and keep smooth, straight expressions.
“You get into shit. He’s fond of you?” Eggsy gestures at him. Tequila nods.
“Yeah, well…he wasn’t always. I’ve always been a bit of a firecracker. Didn’t make the best choices. Got people hurt. Built up a reputation for bein’ a problem, and Champagne started makin’ me own it.” Tequila watches his whiskey swirl in his glass. Eggsy hums thoughtfully.
“Sounds like Harry. He didn’t let me get away with shit. If I did something reckless, it was my arse on the line. But sometimes it paid off.” Eggsy smiles and thinks of stealing Harry’s cab on his way out of initiation.
“To good mentors.” Tequila inclines his head respectfully and raises his glass. Eggsy clinks their glasses together.
The three of them pass the time draining the bottle and looking out over the twinkling lights of the distillery buildings. A boyish mischief settles into Tequila, one that grows as the liquor in the bottle sinks. Whiskey starts to slur his words, but he maintains a hunter’s focus.
“Tell me somethin’, Eggsy. What brought you to Kingsman?” Whiskey watches him over the rim of his glass. His stare is piercing.
“Hm. Harry did. Not so different from Tequila, I reckon. I’d made a right fuckin’ mess and Harry saved me from it. Gave me a job. He saw something in me that no one else did.” Eggsy traces his fingers along the edge of his cup. He glances absently towards Harry’s cell and sighs quickly. Whiskey follows his gaze.
“Did your lepidopterist friend teach you to have sticky fingers, or do you just like causin’ problems?” Whiskey holds his hand out. Eggsy rolls his eyes and hands over the stolen lighter.
“I’ve always been good at nicking things. S’fun.” Eggsy grins and produces Whiskey’s wallet. Whiskey grumbles under his breath and snatches it.
“Feels like you’re the only one of your people that ain’t all hoity-toity. What other secrets are you hiding?” Tequila leans forward. The question grates against Eggsy’s better instincts. He searches Tequila’s face for the slightest bit of ill will. All that sticks is the way light catches softly on his eyes. Eggsy hums and turns his eyes to the ceiling to think.
“Well, my girlfriend bein’ a princess isn’t much of a secret anymore, so…I was a gymnast for a bit.” Eggsy grins. Tequila’s eyes light up and he starts snapping in Whiskey’s direction. For each snap, Whiskey gives a disgruntled hm until eventually they’re just swatting at each other.
“Whiskey, don’t we have them flippy bars down in the gym?” Tequila sniffs, blinking as the liquor hits his sinuses. Eggsy perks up. A spark of excitement picks up atop the warm flush of liquor in his stomach.
“We do. For Statesman agents. Y’know Rum and Cognac get real touchy ‘bout their stuff.” Whiskey raises an eyebrow.
“Well, we’re workin’ together now, ain’t we? ‘Sides, Rum and Cognac ain’t here. Let’s walk him down there. I wanna see what he can do.” Tequila claps Eggsy on the shoulder. Eggsy gives his best winning smile. Whiskey grumbles, then downs the rest of his glass.
“Fuck it. Fine. Five minutes.”
…
They stumble down to the Statesman training facility, passing by a very tired Ginger Ale who opts not to ask why Eggsy’s wearing Tequila’s hat (pretty simple, it’s ‘cause he nicked it). Whiskey puts his thumb to a scanner and the wall unfolds for them.
The lights click on in rows, lighting the industrial space. Eggsy gasps like a kid on Christmas morning.
Sophisticated weight training and combat equipment sit in neat rows. Eggsy locks in directly past that, drifting unconsciously towards a heaping pile of chalk bags. Pommel horses, beams, bars, and hanging rings sprawl out on a spring mat, all in pristine condition. A few launchpads and trampolines lay near the equipment. Eggsy laughs incredulously as he takes it in. Nostalgia flutters in his chest.
Eggsy immediately unbuttons his shirt, folding it cleanly and crisply. He shoves it and the cowboy hat into Tequila’s arms, adjusts his tank top, then works to unlace his shoes. The moment his feet are free, he sprints for one of the springboards. He hits it clean, just like he’d learned, and pushes off the vault, twisting through the air. His landing is a bit messy, but it’s functional, and he takes off to the parallel bars next.
The alcohol writhes in his system, but he doesn’t care. How can he? It’s been years. Coach’d told him he was good enough for the fucking Olympics and he hadn’t touched a set of bars since. The flex of the bars is a comfort to him. He flips and twirls, holding crisp handstands and tucks through muscle memory alone.
He dismounts beautifully from the parallel bars to the pleasant thrum of adrenaline and a smattering of applause.
“Hoowee, that was somethin’!” Tequila ruffles Eggsy’s hair, destroying the last hold of the gel on his head. Eggsy laughs and swats him away.
“Hats off to you, kid. Takes a lot of skill to pull that off.” Whiskey nods in respect. Eggsy returns it.
“I ain’t gonna lie, I thought you were gonna fall on your ass. I’m impressed.” Tequila slugs his shoulder with a brassy laugh.
“Thanks, Tequila.” Eggsy grins roguishly. “Mind givin’ me a boost?”
“Sure.” Tequila follows Eggsy over to the high bar. Whiskey loudly clears his throat.
“Boys, this has been…eye-openin’, but we really should get goin’. Early start tomorrow, I imagine. And this one’ll be fit to collapse when the time difference catches up.” Whiskey inclines his head towards Eggsy.
“Sorry, bruv? Can’t hear you all the way over there.” Eggsy gestures to his ear with a cheeky grin.
“I said—“
“No, no. If you have something to say, come whisper it in my fucking ear.” Eggsy snickers, hearing Merlin’s voice in his head. Whiskey rolls his eyes and saunters over.
“Look, I respect you ‘cause Champagne respects you. Other than that, you’re still a brat that oughta fall into line. Let’s turn in for the night. Both of you.” Whiskey raises his eyebrow. The honey tones of his voice make his annoyance all the more amusing.
“What’re you gonna do about it? Get me with your skipping rope?” Eggsy smirks. Tequila mutters a quiet aw hell and takes a step back.
“Maybe I will, you little shit.”
Eggsy comes to terms with a number of things about himself in that moment, and he puts them all away to process sober. Instead, he gestures for Tequila to give him a hand and reaches up for the bar.
Tequila picks him up by the waist, and it’s not the smooth, assisted lift he’s used to. It’s the clumsy grip of a drunk surprised by weight. Tequila does lift Eggsy up to the bar, but at the cost of his dignity— he spasms and makes a high-pitched noise when Tequila’s fingers press into his waist.
In hindsight, he should’ve seen the way Whiskey’s eyes narrowed at that.
“What the hell was that?” Tequila squints up at him.
“Nothin’. Thought you were gonna drop me. Bugger off.” Eggsy kicks weakly in Tequila’s direction. He backs up, hands raised. Whiskey steps in, hands on his belt.
“Get off the bar, Eggsy.” Whiskey sniffs authoritatively. The logical Kingsman agent buried in Eggsy’s brain sets off warning bells, but Drunk Eggsy, who is obviously of much sounder mind, ignores it.
“Make me, Whiskey.” Eggsy starts to swing in the space he has. Not enough to kick anyone, but enough to look like he will. He manages to rotate clumsily around the bar once, then hangs back down in front of Whiskey.
“You want me to embarrass you in front of your new friend? Okay.” Whiskey steps up to Eggsy and makes a show of sizing him up. Then, quicker than the draw of his pistols, his hands latch onto Eggsy’s sides and squeeze until he’s screaming and plummeting off the bar. Eggsy’s short life flashes before his eyes as he falls bodily into Tequila’s arms.
“Are you fucking mental?” Eggsy goes to shove Whiskey, but Tequila holds him back.
“Woah, watch that mouth of yours!” Whiskey laughs, eyes glittering. “You told me to make you. Your wish is my command, friend.”
Eggsy kicks, trying to break Tequila's hold, and he catches Whiskey right in the balls. He makes a noise like a wounded donkey and folds over. Eggsy snickers. Whiskey whips his reddening face up and glares.
“Now you’ve done it. Tequila!” Whiskey tosses something his way and he catches it. Eggsy barely has time to react before his arms are bound and hoisted in the air above his head. His toes brush the ground. The bar above him creaks in protest but does not give.
Whiskey puts his hands on his hips again. Eggsy wonders if that’s a cowboy thing or an American one.
“Skippin’ rope, bitch.” Whiskey grins, sharklike. “Now…you done with the whole insubordination routine or am I gonna have to give you the ol’ Kentucky Welcome?”
Eggsy snorts derisively. He tests his bindings. They hold steady. Fear starts to pierce through his liquid courage.
“I’m honored, bruv, but I’m in a committed relationship—“
Whiskey clicks his tongue and crowds into Eggsy’s space. He immediately steels himself for violence—what else would there be besides violence? He’s been jumped before. He’s no stranger to the predatory tilt of Whiskey’s head. He sets his jaw and glares.
“When Tequila first joined up, he carried a bit of them clownin’ instincts with him. That didn’t fly with Champagne. We had to figure out a way to take him down a few pegs without hurtin’ him. So, the Kentucky Welcome was born.”
“Aw, fuck you, Whiskey. Seriously, man.” Tequila pipes up from behind Eggsy.
“What does this have to do with me? I know you Americans love to hear yourself talk, but I’m not interested.” Eggsy tries to pull free. Nothing. Whiskey’s gaze gets softer, more mischievous. The change is deeply unnerving.
“Well, you remind me of Tequila. You’ve clearly got a good head on your shoulders, but you’re a little shit. So I’m gonna deal with you the same way we used to deal with him. Last chance, kid. You comin’ quietly or are we gonna have to drag you?”
Eggsy flinches when Whiskey reaches for him—years of habit die hard—and prepares himself for the hard crunch of knuckles into his ribs. Instead, he’s met with a gentle and persistent scritching.
A confused noise bubbles up at the back of Eggsy’s throat, quickly chased by a wobbly smile. He ducks his head and bites his lip.
Oh what the fuck?
Kingsman had taught him to resist the most painful and stressful of scenarios, but they’d never taught him what to do about this. Tilde’s maybe the only person who knows that he’s ticklish, and even then…he can convince her to let him go by kissing her senseless. Eggsy doubts that’ll work here.
“Uh oh, Galahad. Don’t tell me something’s botherin’ you?” Whiskey presses an insincere hand to his heart. Eggsy’s brain stutters for a moment as he realizes that Tequila’s the one scratching at his ribs.
“Fffffuck you.” Eggsy exhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes--nope, that’s worse. So much worse.
Whiskey tickles under his arms and Eggsy yelps, bright laughter tumbling after. It shouldn’t be this bad—Tilde’s done far worse to him in jest, but somehow the teasing grin of his begrudging allies gets under his skin. His arms flex as he tries to pull himself up and away, but his strength collapses with every breath.
“Aw, y’all are twins.” Whiskey leans around Eggsy to smirk at Tequila.
“Whiskey.” Tequila’s languished tone being hilarious really doesn’t help things. Eggsy’s entire face scrunches as he tries to find his way back towards composure. A hiccup sneaks into his chest, and then he’s giggling incessantly. His chest feels like the sparklers he’d run around with as a kid, bright and fizzling and dissolving with every breath.
“Y’know, I wish I had tried this when I first caught y’all. Prolly woulda gone a hell of a lot faster.” Tequila’s voice floats past Eggsy’s ear. Eggsy manages a giggly growl and a halfhearted headbutt in his direction. Tequila tuts at him and folds his fingers into Eggsy’s waistline.
He makes a noise at a pitch that threatens to shatter every lightbulb in the room. Tequila’s calloused fingers strum Eggsy’s nerves like guitar strings and it tickles, fucking shit—
Tequila hooks his fingers just so and Eggsy kicks. Whiskey snags his ankle before a second devastating impact can occur. They make tortuous eye contact.
“Whiskey—“ Eggsy attempts to appeal to the cowboy’s humanity with what Merlin fondly calls his nuclear puppy eyes.
Grinning wickedly, Whiskey shakes his head and reaches for his trapped foot.
Eggsy’s eyes bug out of his head.
He wrenches his leg free, twists his hands, and flips upwards. Managing a gold-worthy handstand into a dismount, he frees his wrists and lands smoothly. Eggsy playfully curtsies. Tequila starts to clap. Whiskey smacks him upside the head.
“Alright, I’m done playin’ around. Grab him. If we’re caught down here at this hour it’ll be my hide.” Whiskey gestures for Tequila to step in. He does so, still a little off-kilter from the liquor.
Eggsy rushes in, expecting a clumsier rendition of the fighting style he’d been so painfully introduced to. Instead, Tequila smoothly blocks his blows and hoists Eggsy over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes. One of his arms locks behind Eggsy’s thighs as they start to walk for the door. It takes him a moment to even process being upside-down. The sway of Tequila’s gait shakes some blood into his brain.
“Aw, y’all are twins.”
“—deal with you the same way we used to deal with him—“
A lightbulb clicks on in Eggsy’s head. He shouldn’t…but he could…but he shouldn’t—
He shoves his hands under Tequila’s arms. Before he can blink or breathe, they’re in a heap on the ground. Tequila’s cackling dead weight presses the air from Eggsy’s chest.
“Thought you’d put up more of a fight, bruv.” Eggsy’s eyebrows raise. Tequila shrieks at him in response. Eggsy manages to wiggle free and hop lightly to his feet as Tequila gathers his wits.
“There’s one of you and two of us. Be wise.” Whiskey cracks his neck. Eggsy looks over at Tequila and smirks devilishly. Tequila pales.
“I like those odds.”
The flurry of motion as they charge each other sets off the ‘fight’ center in his brain, but there is some comfort in knowing no harm is on the table. Eggsy flips and twists out of their grasp, taking advantage of his flexibility to pull off increasingly ridiculous dodges. He neatly sweeps both Whiskey and Tequila’s legs out from under them.
“Little help?” Whiskey gestures lamely at Tequila.
“Nah, I’m done. Y’all are nuts.” Tequila lays on his back, putting his hat down over his face. He folds his arms behind his head. Whiskey curses at him. Tequila gives him the finger.
Whiskey grabs Eggsy by the back of the shirt--really, he should know better--and Eggsy sweeps him again. Whiskey’s ready for it this time, though, and he manages a pin faster than Eggsy can roll away. Whiskey plants himself on Eggsy’s back like he’s settling on a bull.
“Aren’t you tired? Goddamn.” Whiskey sighs. Eggsy winces at the texture of the mat against his cheek.
It reminds him of Roxy and agonizing training sessions, of hours of sweat and bruising and his face stinging from being slammed into the mat. Even past the wave of grief, he remembers the shape of her smile when she would lecture him about letting her pin him on his stomach.
“Indefensible,” she’d say, prodding the back of his ribs. “You’re a sitting duck like this.”
And every time he’d roll his eyes, hooking his fingers behind her knees--
Oh. Hm.
As best as he can, he reaches back and latches onto Whiskey’s thigh, squeezing just above his knee. Whiskey hollers and tries to phase right through the floor. Eggsy rolls them over and pursues, squeezing and squeezing until Whiskey is a wheezing pile on the floor.
Eggsy flips onto his feet. He knows he’s imagining the fond, ghostly squeeze on his shoulder, but he puts his hand on the spot anyways.
“Now I’m tired. Goodnight, fellas.” Eggsy salutes with a wide grin, stepping over both cowboys. He gathers his belongings and saunters for the door, whistling pleasantly.
Whiskey rubs a hand over his face as he stares up at the ceiling.
“Kid’s fuckin’ lucky I like him,” Whiskey grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“Might not wanna speak too soon. He took your hat.” Tequila puts his own ten-gallon back on his head and gestures towards the door with a whistle. Whiskey growls and shoots to his feet.
“Motherfucker! Eggsy!”
#my fics#this fic truly wrote itself. i blacked out and it just happened#and then i realized i didnt properly read the prompt and then rewrote it lol#is this good? *vague mumbling and shrugging*. did i have fun? absolutely#kingsman#ticklish!eggsy#eggsy unwin#ticklish!whiskey#agent whiskey#ticklish!tequila#agent tequila#<- contenders for some of my silliest tags#theres an au in my head where roxy merlin eggsy and harry play cowboy with the statesman agents for a while#mostly bc i want cowboy roxy...#anyways ive wanted to write kingsman forever! thx for the prompt hope you enjoy <3#also anon 'you can do it!!! thanks!!!' has been in my head since you sent the prompt. like yea i CAN do it!!! thank YOU!!!!
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Misfire
Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited.
Word Count: 966
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Warnings: 18+ mdni, dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism
Note: I'm hoping this will be part of a long series of one-shots where I write Dieter as a pathetic little subby, desperate, whimpering mess. As of right now I don't have any big plans for what to write next, but I'm always down for suggestions ;) - Also, I had a hard time with the warnings on this one, don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something that needs tagged.
Dieter Bravo does not feel shame.
His entire schtick is doing whatever the fuck he wants, unapologetically. He hasn’t batted an eye at a tabloid headline in decades.
But now… Now he feels like a fool. He’s gone and landed himself a really stupid part in a low-budget film about a bunch of old guys on an Olympic diving team.
Which, first of all, ouch. He knows he has some years under his belt, but he wasn’t ready to be typecast into old guy roles this early on.
But second of all, ouch again, because he’s gotta get a full body wax for this dud of a movie that’s inevitably going to sink anyway.
And not ouch in a bad way, per se. But ouch as in he’s kind of really into the sting, and he’s ass naked on this cold table covered in paper, hard as a rock.
Which was fine when he was turned onto his stomach. He was able to squish his cock in a not-so-pleasant way to stave off the desperation.
But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.
With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkward on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs.
“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.
“What’s that?”
Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm as you fiddle with your waxing supplies and glance at him.
“Oh. It’s fine, happens all the time. I’ve seen worse.”
That at least gets him to huff out a laugh. You sound unbothered, and it eases him a bit.
“I’d hate to see worse,” he tries to joke.
You just hum in response.
You start on his chest, though there’s not much to wax there. His armpits are ticklish, which makes him even harder. His cock bobs in the air, angry and red and neglected. He’s afraid to move, he’s afraid to breathe, he’s such a hair trigger.
He starts thinking about all the directors he hates. He goes down the line, from his earliest project he can remember, and he’s about halfway through when you finally finish his shins and knees but it doesn’t help.
Your hand taps the inside of his thigh, prompting him to spread and bend, and the movement sends his cock lolling onto his stomach. It makes him jolt and suck in a deep breath. He can tell you’re trying to ignore it. He wishes he could.
And fuck, he hasn’t gotten off in like, a week and a half, caught up between traveling and getting whiskey dick at that party and leaving his Cialis at his friends with benefits’ apartment.
He jolts every time you wax the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. And every time he jolts, his cockhead rubs against his now smooth stomach. His dick is drooling.
When you get to the well groomed, thank you very much hair at the base of his dick, you have to wipe away the obscene amount of pre-cum that’s pooled there.
“Sorry,” he breathes again.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, swiping the taut skin.
It tugs on his dick. He whimpers.
His knuckles are white now, gripping the edge of the table so hard he’s sure there will be permanent nail marks on the pleather. He’s biting his bottom lip, a metallic taste blooms inside his mouth.
He’s lightheaded, between holding his breath and the fact that all his blood is in his dick, and his vision starts to tunnel a bit. Those tell-tale, fuzzy stars begin dancing around in the edges of his vision but promptly disappear when you grab his dick.
The sound he makes is pitiful, a pathetic plea to his own body to stop betraying him.
He chances a look down to see what you’re doing. One of your gloved hands holds his dick with just your thumb and forefinger, as professional as can be, while you spread wax across the wiry hairs just above it.
He’s on the edge, his cock is jerking and pulsing between your two fingers, and if he can just make it past these next few minutes he can spill into his own hand as soon as you leave the room to let him dress.
If only.
You rip the wax from his skin, and it tugs on his cock and it hurts and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure shoots down his spine and he cries out a pathetic little whine. He’s barely able to push your hand away in time, breathing out an apology just as his prick jumps and releases a long, thick rope of cum.
“I’m so sorry, fuck, s-sorry,” he pants.
Tears prickle behind his eyeballs as he just keeps coming. There’s so much it’s almost comical, spraying the tender, reddened skin of his chest and belly. You’re just staring too, completely emotionless, waiting for it to end so you can complete your job.
Dieter whimpers again, biting his fist as he watches the last of his release dribble down his traitorous cock, then squeezes his eyes shut. A tear slips free, and he lets out a shuddering breath. This is the worst orgasm of his entire life, and that includes all the times he couldn’t help but rub one out with a UTI.
You clear your throat, and you’re handing him a box of tissues.
“I’ll let you clean yourself, then I’ll finish up.”
He hears your impatient sigh as you leave the room.
Apparently Dieter Bravo can feel shame.
#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#dieter bravo fanfic#dieter bravo fic#sub!dieter bravo#dieter bravo whimpering#I am going to put this man through the TRENCHES
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Sariel Noir 4th Birthday Story (both POVs)
Parts from Sariel's POV in purple
As usual can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this
Part 1
Two days before Sariel's birthday-
A local nobleman suddenly arrived at court to visit Sariel.
(It’s rare for Sariel to receive a visit rather than the princes)
(I don't usually interact with him...What is he up to?)
Despite my concerns, Sariel chatted with the noble with a smile on his face.
While chatting with the noble, I considered the possibilities.
Nobleman: Oh dear, I’ve gotten carried away. How embarrassing.
I came by today to give this to you.
On his cue, the servant beside the nobleman handed his lord a fine wooden box.
(So that's how it is...)
Sariel: I apologize, but I do not accept bribes.
Nobleman: A bribe? I’d never.
I was told that the day after tomorrow is your birthday. This is a simple gift.
(Regardless, it's a gift to win over the chief bureaucrat)
Sariel: Thank you for caring about government officials like myself.
However, I’ve never received a gift like this before.
I can’t help but think there’s something more to it.
Nobleman: Preposterous. I heard at a party that the princes each gave you a rose.
This year, I’ve come to celebrate you.
With a proud smile, the nobleman revealed the contents of the box.
Nobleman: This is 50 year old whiskey. I was told that you’re fond of liquor.
Sariel: ...
For a moment, I glanced sideways to Emma.
Emma: …!
(Whiskey? No way!)
~~ Flashback ~~
Yesterday—
The moon shone brightly on a clear winter night sky.
Emma opened the window slightly and looked out at the bluish night sky.
Emma: It’s going to be your birthday in 3 days, isn’t it, Sariel?
As I opened the window a bit and looked at the winter night sky, Sariel came up next to me and hugged my shoulder.
Sariel: That time of the year already? Time flies by fast, doesn’t it?
I just wish that time would slow down when I’m with you.
(...)
He gently kisses my head and my shoulders tense from the ticklish feelings and love.
When I lightly kissed Emma on the head, her ears, which were white from the cold, turned slightly red.
(Perhaps Emma has a surprise in mind this year)
(I was a little mean in the past, so it would be good to be genuinely surprised this time)
Even though I knew no one was watching, I felt oddly embarrassed and shut the window.
Emma: I’m thinking about gifting you liquor this year.
(Oh...)
I turn my back to the window and face Sariel.
Sariel: No surprises this year?
Emma: I’ve learned that surprises don’t work on you.
(It's rare for me to be outwitted)
(I wonder if Emma realizes it's more embarrassing to say it upfront)
Sariel: I see. A wise choice.
Regarding liquor…ale?
Emma: Nope. I have aged whiskey for you.
(It’s actually from the year that Sariel came to court, but I’ll keep that as a surprise)
Sariel: Whiskey? I look forward to it. However, I do have one request.
Emma: …?
Sariel: I’d like to have you all to myself that day.
He took my hand and stroked the back of my fingers with his thumb.
Emma: But work…
Sariel: A day off won’t hurt. The princes aren’t children.
Sipping whiskey with you during the day is the greatest luxury.
(If I had my way, I would keep the whiskey for as long as I can without drinking it...)
(It might not be a bad idea to open it with Emma)
Just the fact that I get to spend my birthday with Emma is enough to satisfy me.
It may be too indulgent of me to ask for more.
(It’s certainly a very immoral way to spend time if it wasn’t a special occasion)
Emma: Got it. Then let’s celebrate your birthday together that day.
I kissed Emma's fingertips to hide my smile.
My lips were sealed, but it was difficult to subdue my dancing heart.
(Actually, I also have a pair of cufflinks for you…)
(Let’s keep that as the real surprise)
~~ End flashback ~~
(What do I do? It’s the same present…)
I forced a smile for the sake of our visitor, but on the inside, I wasn't happy at all.
(Without a doubt, you're flustered that your gift was stolen)
(Please notice that I'll be happy with anything you give me, Emma)
(I’ll hold on to the whiskey for now and just give him the cufflinks…)
Nobleman: I apologize for the cheap liquor. I thought it unseemly to be so extravagant.
(A 50 year old one’s pretty expensive!)
Nobleman: Now that I think of it, it seems that I’m not the only noble that’s prepared presents.
A viscount I know had prepared custom-made cufflinks with gems.
(Huh?!)
Beside me, Emma's shoulders jerked.
(Ah...she probably prepared cufflinks as well)
(This is troubling)
It's hard to imagine what Emma must be going through. That being said, I found her troubled state adorable.
Sariel: Such a thing is wasteful on me.
Nobleman: The chief bureaucrat’s modest- Oh, what’s the matter?
Realizing that he was talking to me, I hurriedly put on a smile.
(I’m working right now so I need to focus)
Emma: It’s nothing. That’s a nice gift.
The nobleman nodded repeatedly in satisfaction before handing the chest over to Sariel.
(At any rate, I can’t give you cufflinks anymore)
(I have to think of something else)
Part 2
After the noble left, I took time out of work to consult the princes-
Yves: A birthday present for Sariel?
Why not some of your baked treats?
–
Nokto: Isn’t it obvious? You’re the present.
–
Licht: Sariel likes alcohol…
–
Clavis: I’ve been meaning to try out a new recipe. Let me help.
–
As it was getting late…
(What do I do? I can’t think of any good ideas…)
Jin: You look down. Something the matter?
Jin, who was signing some documents, called out to me and I looked up in a panic.
Emma: Ah…it’s nothing. Just a personal matter.
Jin: Most problems are personal. I’m willing to lend an ear if you don’t mind.
(I don’t want to bother the princes more than I have, but…)
(Jin might be able to give me some good ideas)
Emma: The truth is…
When I told him my situation, Jin’s shoulders shook with laughter.
Emma: It’s not funny!
Jin: Sorry, sorry.
But it’s a weird thing to worry over.
Emma: Weird?
Jin: I think he’d be happier with what you have ready for him rather than luxuries with ulterior motives.
(I’m sure Sariel will say the same, but I’m still worried)
Jin: Also, he…Nevermind
Jin cut himself off and smiled bitterly.
Jin: Anyway, don’t worry too much.
You already got your answer.
(What do you mean…?)
A pen stand on the desk catches my eyes.
Unlike the simple ones commonly used, this one was engraved with beautiful, exotic patterns.
Jin: This looks nice, doesn’t it? It was a gift and I’ve taken a liking to it.
Emma: It’s lovely and suits you.
Suddenly, the paperweight I recently came across at a glasswork shop in town popped into mind.
I remember thinking that its unusual shape could be used as a pen stand.
(It might go with the glass pen I gave Sariel before…)
(It’s possible it’s been sold out already, but I wonder if I’ll be able to get one today or tomorrow)
Jin: Going by that look on your face, it looks like you’ve thought of something.
Emma: I did. Thank you so much for your advice.
Jin: No problem. Good luck.
I thanked Jin again and left the office with a wave.
Then, on the day of Sariel’s birthday-
(I can’t believe nobles came to visit today)
The plan to spend the whole day with Sariel was immediately interrupted by nobles who suddenly came to visit.
(Yesterday, three brought presents and we had to deal with them…)
Among the visitors was the viscount with the cufflinks.
(The cufflinks with the gems were a gift after all)
(I’m glad I found a nice glass pen stand…)
(We’ll be able to spend the afternoon together, so let’s celebrate to our heart’s content)
As I was heading to the kitchen to prepare drinks, Sariel came out from the drawing room.
(Seriously, how do they come up with all these things)
The present I received as an engraved pen stand.
At first glance, it looked like any ordinary item, but perhaps-
~~ Flashback ~~
Sariel: I apologize, but I can't accept this.
I return the luxurious cufflinks to the viscount.
Viscount: Why?
Sariel: I cannot accept jewelry or precious metals.
There's the possibility of someone accusing me of accepting bribes to drag me down.
In fact, it's happened several times in the past.
Viscount: Is that so. I didn't realize.
Sariel: No, thank you for your kindness. I'll accept your thoughts.
~~ End flashback ~~
(The pen stand looks like it has gems on it too)
(Despite my refusal, I was forced to accept when it was left behind...)
(I'll inspect it later)
Sariel: Oh, Emma.
Emma: You’ve worked hard today, Sariel. Have our guests left?
Sariel: Yes, they’ve finally left. I’m sorry that I kept you waiting.
In Sariel’s hand was a small, fine-looking wooden box.
Emma: What did you get?
Sariel: This.
(Huh…)
Inside the box was an engraved pen stand like the one that Jin has.
When I opened the box, Emma froze, her gaze fixed on what was inside.
(Are you concerned about this...?)
Sariel: This was specially made to be used with a glass pen.
Truly, I’m not sure how they were aware that I use a glass pen.
If you were to ask me, it’s shaped a little differently than a regular pen stand, with a wider tube.
Emma: This…is a birthday present, right?
Sariel: Yes, that’s correct.
(Could it be that...)
(I can’t even give him a pen stand…what do I do!?)
(In any case, I need to present another present)
Emma: I’m sorry, but I just remembered that I forgot to buy something.
I’ll be back by noon…
I plastered a smile on my face as I took a step or two back, turned on my heels and ran down the hall.
(I'm tempted to curse nobles after this...)
Part 3
By the time I returned from shopping in town, the sun had set. It wasn’t until after dinner that I was finally able to spend some quality time with Sariel.
(I looked everywhere, but everything I saw was already something gifted by a noble)
(In couldn’t come up with anything in the end, so I went with “this”)
Sariel: By the way, shall we have the whiskey you mentioned before?
My heart skipped a beat at the timing, as if he could see right through me.
Emma: Sure…here.
I handed him a wooden box with the whiskey as well as a bouquet of roses that I had hidden behind my back.
Sariel: Oh, I didn’t expect flowers.
Emma: Actually I wanted to give you something more meaningful, but…
Sariel: Far from it. I had the same thought when I received one from you and the princes…
Each time I’m given a rose like this, they become more meaningful to me.
In a sense, it stays forever.
(The way Sariel cherishes people’s thoughts and feelings…I love it)
Sariel: Thank you for this as well.
After setting the bouquet on his desk, Sariel happily opened the wooden box.
(The age...)
(I see. As expected, a noble's gift can't even compare)
Sariel: It’s such a fine quality…it’d be a shame to open it.
He lifted the bottle of whiskey as if handling a gem and looked at it from various angles.
After looking over the bottle for some time, Sariel looked directly at me.
Sariel: Is this all?
Emma: Huh? Yes, that’s all…
(I wonder if it looks bleak compared to the presents from the nobles)
(Even liquor’s more expensive when it comes from one…)
Sariel: Don’t lie to me. There’s more, isn’t there?
For example…that’s right. A pen stand.
(How did he know?)
Sariel: Can you go fetch it?
Emma: But…
Sariel: Emma.
(...)
When dark purple eyes stared at me, I couldn’t say more.
Emma: Okay.
~~
Emma: It’s not much compared to what the noble gave you…
I placed the cufflinks and pen stand that I brought from my room on his desk.
(As expected from you. You know exactly what I like)
(The pen stand matches the glass pen you gifted me earlier this year)
(How can you compare these two wonderful gifts to items that are just expensive...)
Sariel: May I have these?
Emma: Of course.
I lowered my gaze as Sariel reached for the presents.
Sariel: …
As my disciple, you should learn to read political tactics a little more.
(Political tactics…?)
Emma blinked in confusion.
(I'm at fault for keeping quiet because I wanted to see that troubled look on your face)
When I looked up, I saw Sariel’s smile filled with affection
Sariel: In any case, thank you. I will cherish these.And you forgot the most important thing.
Emma: Woah!
He pulled me in from the side and sat us down on the bed.
Sariel: I’ve yet to hear you congratulate me.
(Ah…)
(I’ve been so focused on getting him a present that I haven’t congratulated him yet)
Setting my hands on his shoulders, I gazed directly at my lover.
(I want to say this right…)
Emma: Happy birthday Sariel.
(Ah, as I thought...No gem can compare to the sparkle in those eyes)
Sariel: Thank you.
To hear words of blessing with your voice is the greatest gift a demon could ever receive.
The sad look on her face slowly disappears.
(He looks so happy…)
The look on his face is completely different from how he looked when he received his presents from the nobles.
(The luxury goods that nobles gave me are nothing compared to your smile)
(Just like Jin said)
(The most valuable thing to Sariel)
(I've long realized that he’d be pleased by my congratulations over anything else)
Emma: This year, a variety of people celebrated your birthday, but…
No one can match my love for you.
(I don’t have expensive liquor or shiny jewelry, but)
(I love Sariel so much and no one can compete with me on that)
Sariel: That’s right, I’ve received a lot this year.
…
(Because of that, it reduced the amount of time I could spend with you...)
(Well, I suppose I'll make up for lost time now)
With a smile on his face, Sariel unbuttoned his shirt.
Sariel: I’ve received so much that I’ve become as greedy as the devil.
I won’t be satisfied until I receive another one.
Fingertips traced my collarbone, and the collar of my blouse slipped down my shoulder.
(The way he’s looking at me is so unfair…)
His intense gaze made my face heat up with embarrassment.
(It’s embarrassing, but it’s Sariel’s birthday…)
I tell myself that, but deep inside, I’m looking forward to this sweet moment.
As if seduced by the devil’s gaze, I found myself kissing Sariel.
(I could go on and savor Emma like this.)
(I don't have much patience today)
Emma: Nn…
As we kissed repeatedly at different angles, the kiss suddenly deepened with a passionate sigh.
Emma: Nn…ah…
The sweet sighs that left her mouth fueled my desire to devour her even more.
He held the back of my neck as my lips were continuously ravished.
As soon as our lips parted, Sariel’s impatient hands removed my blouse.
Emma: What’s up with you today…
Sariel: I supposed I’ve been starving since the nobles interrupted my plan of spending the day with you.
Emma: Ah…
He laid me down on the bed and gently pinned my wrist.
Sariel: I won’t be satisfied until I’ve had my fill of you today.
He looked down at me with eyes filled with more passion than usual, and my heart was suddenly racing.
Emma: It’s your birthday today, so-
I gulped and fixed my gaze on Sariel.
Emma: Go ahead. As much as you want.
Sariel: o_o
Don’t regret your words.
I fell into the hands of a starving demon and was lured into a sweet and stormy night.
I gave in to my instincts and indulged in immoral activities with Emma, as if consuming the thoughts of Emma celebrating my birthday and the time lost together.
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hii absolutely love your snippets! i was wondering if you can do one with two detectives ( one who has strong moral codes and the other is morally grey?) preferably m/m? have a great day!
"You can't just break into-mmph!"
The protagonist glared, indignant, as the other detective promptly shoved him into the wall, pressing a strong hand against his mouth.
"Someone's coming," the detective hissed. "Shut up."
Convenient. So convenient, wasn't it, that someone was coming just as the protagonist was winning their argument about how it was wrong to break into someone's house without a proper warrant. It was trespassing. Being a detective did not put either of them above the law!
The other detective's body was warm and firm where it pressed against him, lean from hours prowling the streets in search of secrets. The protagonist didn't know how the other detective did it, actually. Most of the job was stake-outs and patience.
Except, the infuriating detective currently pinning him to the wall had no patience. Only abs. Abs and those piercing blue eyes that seemed too sunny and pretty a colour for so maddening a man, currently locked on his face as if he was the thing to be unravelled and discovered.
The protagonist's mouth felt dry.
Yet, sure enough, he heard the sound of stranger footsteps, the low murmur of voices.
The detective shuffled a little closer, so his dark coat would blend them both a little more firmly into the shadows. There was no time to hide, not properly, and if they were caught..
Well, the protagonist could admit that would be bad. One, because trespassing. And two, because if the reason they were both trespassing was right, whoever those footsteps belonged to was very, very dangerous.
The protagonist's heart raced.
The two of their faces were barely inches apart. He could feel the detective's breath caressing ticklish and minty against his cheek. He'd always imagined - not that he'd imagined (and okay, he'd imagined!) - that the other detective's breath would be sour with whiskey, or smoke, or some other stereotypical thing. But, no. Mint. Fresh.
The protagonist willed himself himself not to make a slightly hysterical sound, and get them both caught and possibly killed over something as absurd as minty fresh toothpaste. Or gum. Whatever.
The detective grinned at him, wild, in the gloom. Drunk on adrenaline and what the two of them might learn, the thrill of the chase, and it shouldn't have looked good on him but it did...
The footsteps passed them by, with no conveniently spilled clue for cracking the entire case open.
Even when they were gone, the detective didn't move. He continued to watch the protagonist, something different on his face. His head tilted a fraction to the side.
"What?" the protagonist bit out, still keeping his voice low. "Get off me."
"I love when you debate the law with me," the detective said. "You always blush so lovely when you're mad."
"You-" The protagonist seethed, even as he damningly felt his face burn even hotter.
"-But now I think I like you crowded against the wall even more," the detective said. "Like prime evidence." His gaze raked a blazing trail along the protagonist's body. "If only you could get that stick out of your arse, I'd love to put something-"
"-Don't you dare finish that sentence."
"Oh, detective," the detective purred. "You should know better than to dare me to do anything."
The protagonist swallowed. He realised his hands were still clutching the front of the detective's jacket, and not shoving him away. He scowled. He let go.
The detective stepped back easily, gracefully, with another of those grins.
"Come on," he said. "Let's check out the basement. You were following a trespasser, weren't you? A PI without a cause! You simply have to see what I get up to, for the good of society, right?"
"That's not how it works," the protagonist said, only to immediately grow aware again of his face, of the passion on his face, of the way the detective drank it all up.
"I won't jeopardise the case," the PI said, more softly. "You know I'll do anything to get the truth. To stop the bad guys."
Yes. The protagonist did know that, for better or worse.
And, for better or worse, skin still tingling where the detective had touched him, he followed.
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kinktober '22 ║ XX
pairing: javier peña x steve murphyx f!reader x horacio carillo
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2.1k
summary: after another day of being unsuccessful in catching escobar, you offer the boys another way of relief.
warnings: foursome?? gangbang??, oral (giving/receiving), rimming (receiving), fingering (vaginal/anal), spit as lube, double penetration, for the sake of this fic no one is married, handjobs, alcohol consumption (everyone is aware of what's happening reader does get a little bit tipsy tho), creampie
a/n: this has been haunting me since I first started watching narcos, and kinktober is the perfect time to write such filth so yeah, this is dirty, also so much fun to write-- enjoy xx also this was supposed to be less then 1k words
MLISTS . LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22
You dreamt of it before but never expected it to actually happen.
It’s late. Very late. Everyone has already returned to their homes and to their families. Meanwhile you –having absolutely no one except for Steve, Javier and Colonel Carillo– are cooped up in the Colonel’s office, all four of you on edge for having Escobar slip from your fingertips once more.
Javier is the one to pull out a bottle of whiskey that he hides in the drawers of his desk.
“For rough days,” he’d said. “And today has been a rough one, wouldn’t you guys agree?”
The liquor burns at first, but at the second glass it goes down easier, the burn not something that you look forward to. By the fourth one you’re still aware of your surroundings and who you’re with, but you have that certain buzz in your veins, warming you up from the inside out that makes you giggle constantly.
“Well she seems gone,” Steve muses, tilting his glass to his lips and swallowing the rest.
“I’m not!” you exclaim, sticking your bottom lip out. “I’m totally fine, don’t ruin this for me Murph,”
Javier is sitting next to you, you feel him shift, his fingers slowly starting to scratch the back of your neck. You lean into the touch, the ticklish sensation making you keen and ache for him. He’s a flirt, you know this, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it from time to time. You hear Carillo’s soft chuckle, his chest trembling as he rolls the glass between his fingers. You meet his glance, a soft smile tugging at his lips when you do. With a heated face, your eyes trail down his body. He’d opened up the first three buttons of his shirt, giving you a delicious view of his chest. It’s unprofessional but you had to admit you oogled him from time to time, wanting to squeeze those magnificent pecks since the first day you met him. He must’ve noticed your looks, he startles you by clearing his throat and you find yourself curling further into Javier’s heat with embarrassment.
“Cute,” he hums, his eyebrows raised. However his smile never wavers.
“We should head home,” Steve suddenly says, oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Carillo. “It’s late and we need to get here early tomorrow,”
You’re devastated when the other two agree, Carillo already heading to grab his coat and Javier making a move to get up. Without a second thought you hold him in place, your fingers wrapped tightly around Javier’s arm. His gaze drops to you, surprised and confused. You can’t let them leave. You just can’t. Not when your arousal is pulsing between your legs, heat licking your skin, begging for them to ease the flames.
“Don’t,”
Your voice cuts through the air like a bullet, Carillo and Steve both freeze at your tone, six pairs of eyes glued to you. You let out a stuttered breath, not really knowing what to say or how to go about it. Luckily Steve fills the silence with the obvious question lingering in the air.
“What’s wrong, bird?”
“I think–I think we shouldn’t go home…not–not yet,”
Javier relaxes back, his arm sneaking around your waist and pulling your flush against his chest. You see a smile cheating at his lips, eyes sparkling with understandment.
“And why shouldn’t we? Do you want something from us?”
Fuck, you can’t handle the teasing in Javier’s voice. Your heart is about to burst through your chest.
“Maybe…we can have some fun?” you swallow thickly around the knot rapidly forming in your throat. Carillo closes the door. “It’s been a hard day. We–We can unwind? If…If that’s alright?”
Steve’s grin is wide when he meets your gaze, he playfully nudges Carillo in the shoulder, and in return Carillo gives him the most offended look he can muster. It makes you giggle, Javier’s grip around you tightens.
“I think we should be asking the Colonel,” he muses. “It is his office after all,”
Carillo doesn’t answer, instead he struts towards the blinds and closes them, the sound reverberating within the somewhat small office. You haven’t realized the breath you were holding until he turns to you and Javier, his gaze locking with yours.
“Just in case someone decides to show up,”
Everything happens so fast after that. You find yourself stripped naked on all fours, Javier is behind you, eating you out in the most enthusiastic way possible as Carillo lays underneath you, his shirt now fully unbuttoned while his tongue dances across your tits. A moan ripples from your throat, taking full advantage of this Steve inches closer, his cock firmly in hand, he nudges your lips with the tip, a dollop of precum staining them as he pulls back.
“Can I?”
You stick your tongue out, looking up at him between eyelashes eagerly. You spread your fingers across Carillo’s broad chest, you can’t help but squeeze them as Steve pushes in between your lips, cock throbbing against your tongue. However, you gasp away when Javier pushes two fingers inside, his tongue moving up to tease your asshole. He groans into you, fingers digging into your thighs.
“Fuck you taste so good baby,” he rasps, a series of slurps following. “Do you think you can take two of us?”
“Prepare her well and she can,” Carillo chimes in from between your breasts, his large hand cupping the side of your left tit. His gaze finds yours, softening in an instant, the change in mood makes your clench around Javier’s fingers. “Isn’t that right, amor?”
You nod as you move towards Steve’s cock once again, taking him halfway into your mouth, you feel Javier’s tongue pushing through the tight muscle, your body tenses at the unfamiliar penetration. Steve’s thumb brushes the side of your cheek, pulling your squinted gaze up to face him. He’s looking down at you softly, a small smile on his lips. You’ve never seen him look at you like that before. It makes your heart beat even faster, your insides a flurry of emotions.
“Relax sweetheart, Javi will take good care of you– And if he doesn’t we’ll kick his sorry ass,”
Much to your surprise, Javier doesn’t retort, instead he hums and wiggles his tongue forward, curling his fingers at the same time. Stars burst across your vision, and before you know it the tip of Steve’s cock is touching the back of your throat. You swallow around him, hungrily swirling your tongue around the tip. He lets out a strangled noise, he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, his thumb still delicately caressing your taut skin.
His precum coats your tongue, at the same time Carillo draws your stiff nipple into your mouth, teeth gently nipping the sensitive nub. A muffled shout vibrates around Steve’s cock and his hips stutter forward, burying more of himself down your throat. Javier continues to fuck you with his fingers as he pulls back, your hear him first, then feel the wetness across your gaping hole. Your insides clench around his fingers and he inhales a sharp breath.
“Looks like someone liked that,” he teases. “I’m going to loosen you up with my finger now, alright?”
Looking up at Steve you nod, he turns to Javier and does the same.
“She’s good, you can go on,”
And he does.
You’re surprised at how much you feel with only one finger inside of you. The stretch of it makes you squeeze your eyes shut, eyebrows knitted together as you breathe heavily through your nose. Steve’s thrusts trail into a soft roll of his hips, allowing you to breathe.
“She’s so tight,” Javier grunts, pulling his finger out and slipping the same finger past his first knuckle. A whimper falls from your lips. “–mierda,”
Carillo looks up to you with a questioning gaze, a look that goes unnoticed by you. With an idea shaping in his mind, he sneaks a hand down between your bodies and begins to draw quick circles around your clit. Arousal pools between your legs, slick dripping down your thighs and his fingers. Your mind spins, body burning as you start to bob your head up and down Steve’s length. His fingers slide to the back of your head, blunt nails scratching your scalp. With the help of Carillo, Javier soon slips a second finger, then a third– Sweat coats your skin, a tingle running up and down your spine again and again. You moan around Steve’s cock, his balls laying heavy on your chin, spit dribbles down the corner of your lips. Carillo moans into your skin before pulling away from your tits.
“Do you think you are ready for us?”
“Y-Yes,” you say, throat already sore. You stroke Steve’s cock as Javier positions himself behind you, slotting his length into where his fingers were not moments ago. Carillo aligns himself with your throbbing sex, the mushroom tip fitting inside of you nicely. A mewling gasp tears away from your lips. “Fuck–”
You feel like you’re about to burst at the way they fill you up, you continue to stroke Steve’s cock with enthusiasm, your grip tightening around his length. He lets out a shuddered breath, his head falling back as he shallowly thrusts into your fist. When Javier and Carillo start to move in tandem with each other, you fear that you might black out at any given moment. Every thrust knocks the air out of your lungs, uncontrollable moans and a string of curse words etched into your lips as they fuck themselves deeper into you. During all of this, Steve’s cock finds its way back between your lips, fucking your mouth as the other two claim your from the inside.
The noises that echo within the office are down right sinful. Steve is more silent then the other two, Javier being a tad bit more verbal than Carillo. Javi calls you every pet name imaginable, praises and good girl’s falling from his lips as he pounds his hips into yours. With a half-ear you also hear Carillo but you hear only Spanish, not a clue of what anything he says means. He grabs your breasts, squeezing them while canting his hips into yours. Your cunt flutters around him, your insides squeezing them both. You moan around Steve’s cock, he throbs and twitches on top of your tongue.
Heat pools in your lower stomach, folds soaked with slick. Your orgasm breaches you suddenly, all your muscles seizing as you gush around Carillo’s cock. The sounds you make are muffled thanks to Steve’s cock, the men inside your groan with unison, you can feel both their cock’s twitching, ready to burst.
“Where should we cum?” Javier asks, and Steve pulls out of your mouth momentarily.
You take heaving breaths, pleasure overwhelming and still tickling your skin. Still, you manage to answer.
“Inside–” you gasp. “I want all of you inside,”
Carillo groans, his hips stammering. You hear him whispering out a fuck before fucking into you with impeccable strenght and speed, Javier hisses behind you, his cock throbbing. He can feel the other man moving inside of you, making his balls ache with the need to release. You swirl your tongue around Steve’s cock and suckle on the tip, he’s the first one to go, cumming down your throat in thick ropes. You swallow around him, moaning at the taste.
The corners of your vision turns black when two men fills you to the brim, most of it spilling outside as they ride out their orgasms by fucking their spend deeper into you. Your head falls onto Carillo’s broad chest, your mouth decorating his pecks with wet, open mouthed kisses. Their thrusts slows down into a halt but they remain inside you, Steve disappears for a moment and comes back with a glass of water, he presses the glass rim against your lips. You drink eagerly, most of it spilling down your throat and landing on the colonel’s chest.
Javier pulls out with a groan, not forgetting to place a fleeting kiss at the small of your back. You shudder at the feeling, you feel Carillo’s lips at the top of your head.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, you hiss when you feel a paper towel at your backside.
“Sorry,” Javier says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “The colonel doesn’t have spare towels in his room,”
“I have shirts, you can use one of those. Don’t hurt her,”
A small chuckle parts from your lips. “It’s fine, I just wasn't expecting it,”
None of you returned home that night, lost in each other's bodies until morning came.
kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama , @damnyoupedro , @stardust-galaxies , @all-the-way-down-here , @welcometostayingawake, @bullet-prooflove , @rainbowcreepie
#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x reader#steve murphy x reader#steve murphy x f!reader#horacio carillo x reader#javier x steve x reader x carillo#narcos fic#narcos x reader#kinktober '22#kinktober 2022#smutober
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After the Christmas Party
What happens when you get a little too drunk at the office Christmas party and a tickle-phile is the one who brings you home? Jay is about to find out! Other than being a little kidnappy, this is SFW.
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With his head swimming, Jay slowly started to wake up, but he didn't know what exactly had happened, where he was, or how he got there. The last thing he remembered was having a good time at the office Christmas party and his co-worker Dan helping him into the car. He didn’t normally drink too much, but with wine and beer and hard liquor (whiskey being Jay’s favourite) everywhere and all of the senior partners encouraging everyone to enjoy themselves, Jay decided to let loose and live a little. The pounding headache he had told him exactly how much he'd been drinking the night before.
Something was wrong, though. This wasn't his house… there was tape over his mouth… he was tied up… and his bare feet were propped up on a footstool. Jay tried to stand up and wiggle free from the bonds but his head was still pounding and his stomach felt like he might be sick. Just how much had he had to drink?!
"Oh, you're awake?" Jay’s coworker Dan said as he walked into the room. Jay instantly knew something was wrong: Day was just wearing an old tee shirt and a pair of boxers.
Jay tried to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth except for a muffled garble. As he tried to speak he realized that there was something in his mouth. His tongue pushed up against it, trying to find out just whatever it was. It felt like it was some kind of fabric that tasted sort of salty.
"Sorry about the sock gag, I just didn't want you to scream if you woke up before I did."
Jay’s stomach rolled again. He was tasting his own sock? Disgusting. Jay tried yelling through the sock in his mouth but it was useless.
Dan walked over and ran a hand across Jay’s tied and propped bare feet. Jay could feel Dan's hungry eyes taking the feet in.
"Ever since you made junior partner, I've had my eyes on you. Especially the provocative way you slip your shoes off in the office when you think no one is looking. Believe me... I noticed and I was looking."
Dan sat down beside the tied feet and took them into his hands. Jay tried to kick back, tried to fight to keep this pervert’s hands off his feet, but he couldn't save himself or do anything as Dan began massaging his feet. Dan’s hands felt strong and confident, not the hands of someone who felt bad that he was taking advantage of a coworker in a very intimate way.
"We're going to have some fun, you and I, and if you say anything about it to anyone I'll see that you're knocked down by the office assistant so fast your head will spin, got it?"
There was nothing Jay could do. Not only was Dan his superior at work, but being tied and vulnerable like this meant that the ball was in Dan's court. With angry and defiant eyes he nodded to Dan, submitting to whatever he had planned.
"Good," Jay purred as his hands continued to grope the bound feet, massaging the broad soles and rolling the toes around between his fingers.
"I got some amazing toys I want to use on these puppies, give you a solid workout. What do you say?"
There was nothing he could do in this situation, so Jay just hung his head in defeat.
"That's a good boy, giving in like that. Makes what's going to happen to you all the easier."
Jay left the room and returned a few minutes later with a silver tray. There were all sorts of items on the tray, from hair brushes, electric toothbrushes, scrubbers, feathers, and some baby oil. Jay wasn’t completely sure what all of this stuff was for but he had the strong suspicion he wasn’t going to like it. He curled his toes wondering just what was in store for him and his feet. His eyes lingered on the feathers for a moment. Surely Dan wasn’t going to… tickle him? Was he? That’s not something that people actually did with feathers… was it?
"Let's see just how ticklish you are, and if you squeal nicely enough for me, maybe we'll only do this once or twice a week going forward, hmm?"
Why oh why did he ever slip his shoes off in the office? If he knew some pervert was going to be watching him because of that he would have kept his shoes tightly on his feet.
“Just a little test tickle, what do you say?”
Dan picked up one of the hair brushes from the tray and brought it to Jay’s foot. He teased with the brush, running just the very tips of the bristles up and down Jay’s tied soles, giving just a sneak peek of what was to come. Jay struggled, trying to pull his feet away, but couldn’t escape.
The speed and the force of the tickling picked up. The brush would travel up and down the bare sole. First the brush stopped at the smooth heel, scrubbing vigorously back and forth. This tickled more than Jay expected it would, causing the tied up young man to giggle continuously behind his sock gag. The brush continued up and stopped at the toes this time. The man grabbed the toes, pulled them back, and started brushing the sensitive skin right under the toes.
Jay wasn’t giggling this time. This time, he threw his head back and started to cackle behind his sweaty sock gag. The sensation was intense, and his legs were vibrating as he tried desperately to pull his feet away. He tried to curl up his toes, but Dan was holding them too tightly.
Dan continued tickling Jay like this, up and down the sole, scrubbing the heel, and attacking the base of the toes. It felt like hours had passed. Jay was sweating in his suit, drool was dribbling out of his mouth, and tears were rolling down his cheeks. He’d never felt so completely broken in his entire life.
Finally the brushing stopped and Jay’s entirely body relaxed.
“Well, that was a good test tickle… what do you say we try the… harder stuff?”
Dan grabbed a long straight feather from the tray. Jay’s eyes went wide and he started thrashing his head back and forth. This was about to become a lot worse.
His superior brought the feather to Dan’s broad sole and started flicking with it. It didn’t tickle as much as the brush did, but Jay could feel it. It was this fleeting touch, just at the edge of his feet. It felt… weird. Unfortunately it Jay wasn’t giving the reaction that Dan wanted.
“Not too feather ticklish? That’s fine. Let’s try it between the toes”
The feather was suddenly flossed between his big and second toe. Jay jumped. Holy shit, that actually tickled. Dan grinned and did it again, making Jay jump again in his restraints.
“Hmm, this seems better, doesn’t it?”
Dan moved down the line, dragging the feather between Jay’s ticklish toes. Jay tried to curl them to keep the feather out, but Dan would just grab them and force them open. Soon Jay stopped fighting back and gave into the toe tickling. The feather kept flossing between toes, first one foot then the other, over and over again. Jay was laughing and trying to pull his feet away. Jay, who always thought himself pretty tough and manly, was being reduced to a giggling and laughing mess by nothing more than a feather.
The feather kept its torment going for several minutes. By the end of the torture Jay’s feet had started to sweat, making the feather glide even easier between his squirming toes. Jay’s entire body slumped when the feather finally gave it’s last swipe.
“You’re doing good, kid. You’re doing real good. How are we feeling so far?”
Jay didn’t have the energy to fight or yell anymore. He just hung his head and mumbled something into his sock.
Dan put away the feather and pulled up the electric toothbrush and the bottle of baby oil. Opening the bottle, Dan held it over Jay’s feet and just let the oil dribble down over the tops of his toes, watching as it ran down. To Jay it felt almost pleasant. A nice cooling sensation on his hot feet. Dan massaged his tied feet again, this time working the baby oil into the soles, covering the toes, and of course between each and every single toe. Jay hated to admit it, but after all the torment he’d been through, this actually felt nice. Dan must have been able to tell (probably because Jay stopped fighting and went to mush in his hands) and chuckled.
“You think this feels nice, huh? Wait until you meet my little friend here.”
Jay watched as Dan picked up the electric toothbrush. He turned it on and off, revving it like a manic welds a chainsaw.
“Let’s introduce you, shall we?”
#male tickling#male feet story#tickling#gay tickling#male foot story#tickle community#tickle kink#tickle story#sock gagged
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Port Mafia Styled Torture
This is a Buraiha Trio tickle fic! With Lee!Dazai, Ler!Oda, and verbal Ler!Ango! If this isn’t your forte, no need to read!
Summary: Oda just got off the phone with the curry chef after a little chat about the kids, threatening a little bit of ‘Port Mafia Styled Torture’. Dazai’s curious about it. He got his answer, just not in the way he expected to. (Dark Era, Eighteen!Dazai)
Dazai was rather content on a lazy night at the bar.
The familiar atmosphere held a comfort only Lupin could provide, its dim lights and peaceful nights were to die for, truly. For Dazai, it felt much more relieving in the presence of two people.
He wrapped his arms around Odasaku’s torso, sat contently on his lap, who was busy talking on the phone with the restaurant owner about who-knows-what, nursing a Whiskey on the Rocks with his free hand.
Ango was making idle chat with the bartender two seats down, sipping his own tomato juice, as he stated that he wasn’t in the mood for alcohol that night. And Dazai found himself here, simply relaxing against his friend, feeling confident that this would simply be a slow night at the bar.
He snuggled in closer to Odasaku’s side, absentmindedly letting his forehead press against the man’s cheek, who in turn abandoned his drink to give Dazai a quick pat on the head, letting his hand rest there after a moment. Dazai let out a little sigh, tuning in to catch the tail end of Odasaku’s phone conversation.
“-If Katsumi does it again, let him know I’ll be coming home to dish out some Port Mafia Style Torture, okay? Bye then.”
…Hoh?
“Hmm?” Dazai tilted his head up to look at Odasaku, who looked down at him with a raised brow. “What is it?” he asked, pocketing his phone as Dazai sat up. “Port Mafia Styled Torture? I haven’t heard anything like that before. What do you mean by it?”
Distantly, he noticed the scrapping of Ango’s bar stool and his footsteps, and Odasaku glanced at the other, before letting out a hum. “Just a term I came up with for the kids.” he plainly explained, causing Dazai to huff. “Yeah, but what is it?” He pouted, clearly displaying curiosity.
“Ah, well,” Odasaku contemplated, tilting his head to the side for a moment before ultimately shrugging. “It’s better to show more than tell, I suppose.” Now it was Dazai’s turn to cock his head to the side, confusion flickering on his face. The sound of Ango aggressively sipping his drink behind them certainly wasn’t helping, though.
Then Odasaku held up wiggling fingers.
Dazai was beyond confused.
“What…are you doing? Why are you moving your hands like tHAT-”
He had no time to react, zero seconds to collect himself before those wiggling fingers descended on his sides like quick lightning, startling a shriek out of the teenager. It was a foreign feeling that shot through his body, causing him to sputter and teeter into frantic laughter.
“Whahahahahat the-Odahahaha!!!” Dazai squealed when Odasaku dug dexterous fingers into his ribs, causing the poor boy to buck and squirm in Odasaku’s lap, who wasn’t at all deterred by the sudden rowdiness of the younger. That didn’t stop him from commenting though.
“Huh, I didn’t expect you to be this ticklish.” He hummed, giving an experimental tweak higher up his ribs, and leaning forward a bit to accommodate Dazai’s jerk backwards. “I can work with this.”
“This is terrible.” Ango said from behind, and Dazai could barely twist around to start reaching for help, a smile tugging his lips in a way he never thought were possible. “Ahahahango!! Hehelp mehehehe- AHhhahAhahAhh!!” He practically spasmed with screechy laughter when Odasaku took the opportunity to scribble along his back, having not expected his own back to be as ticklish as his front.
“Nope, I’m fine right here. I do not trust that man.” Ango hummed from the complete other side of the bar, Dazai kicking wildly and yelping with laughter as Odasaku considered his options, as if this were some delicate procedure and not him just tickling his crazily squirming friend to utter pieces. “Ow Ango, I feel hurt.” He nonchalantly muttered.
And then he poked around his lower back.
It was almost as if Dazai turned into a track runner, it was just that funny.
The boy let out a straight up scream, aggressively kicking his legs as he started slapping Odasaku’s hands, which were tweaking at the dimples that he must have remembered were there. The other leaned back a bit as Ango raised a brow. “Ah, that must feel terrible. Rest in peace, Dazai, I’ll be sure to write your eulogy.” It’s not like it was terrible… he was just unprepared, dangit!
“I thought that was my job?” Odasaku questioned, digging a knuckle into the middle of his back, only to jolt at the loud snort Dazai let out. “Jesus, that startled me.” Ango scoffed in amusement, watching as Dazai’s feet would bang against the bar table.
He’s pretty sure he kicked something else, from the clattering noise that startled a flinch out of both Ango and Odasaku, causing the man’s merciless fingers to falter and dig into a bundle of nerves, and Dazai couldn’t help the full body spasm that overtook him. Seriously, how was he supposed to know what he kicked if he was laughing too much to even care!?
“Oooh…apologies for that, bartender-” Dazai’s hand came cracking down against the counter, his finger catching on something solid before that went crashing down too. “....And that.”
Dazai could hardly hear what the bartender was saying when Odasaku started experimentally wiggling fingers into his hips, his laughter taking on a whole new pitch as he struggled, laughter sputtering without filter from his mouth, slapping his hand repeatedly around the bar table.
“BAHAhahaHahAHar!! PleEhEhehase!!!” He pleaded senselessly, unsure just what it was he was pleading for. “Were you trying to call the bartender? God, you’re just calling for anyone now, huh?” Ango hummed with a casual raise of the eyebrow, which shouldn’t be so damn funny in the situation, but Dazai found himself laughing more anyways.
He’s certain he almost slid off of Odasaku’s lap if the man hadn’t been there to hold him up, tears of mirth pricking his eyes as he squirmed and squealed, trying everything he could to worm himself out of the man’s dangerously deft hands. A fruitless endeavor in the end, but the attempt was appreciated.
“You okay there, Dazai?” Odasaku apparently found it in himself to be worried by the tears he was deliberately causing to stream down Dazai’s face, who finally was able to turn onto his back again, head and torso dangling off from the stool with a beet-red face. He couldn’t help but think how terribly mean that was, and how giggly he felt just from the aspect that Odasaku cared enough to ask for a raincheck.
Somehow, he gave a half-assed nod, wheezing all the same.
“Now he just sounds like a pterodactyl.” Came the comments of his other, equally mean friend, who pre-ordered some water and was just sitting there waiting now, waiting for Dazai to give up and beg for it to stop. “Hmm, I think that adds onto the charm.” Odasaku casually commented, further embarrassing their precious friend, who was frantically shaking his head and whining, wheezing, laughing his heart out. God, he didn’t want to think it, but-
This was so, so fun.
“He sounds like he’s being murdered though, and I do not know how to feel about that.” Obviously that was a lie, from the way he was hiding a small smile behind his tomato juice glass, but Dazai could hardly muster the strength to call him out on it. Dazai, being tickled to shambles, took way longer than he thought to get enough breath in him to finally, finally plead mercy.
“AIHIHIHIR!! I NEHEHEED AIHIHIR-ODAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Odasaku took him seriously then, and the boy gasped in relief (and hidden disappointment) when he removed his hands, instead helping Dazai sit up properly. He adjusted him in his lap, asking again if the other was okay as Dazai greedily sucked in bucket-fulls of air, hardly noticing Ango approach with the glass of water.
Maybe it took Dazai an embarrassing few tries to actually grab the glass of water, Ango supporting it as he drank from it in relief. He let out a sigh, leaning back against Odasaku’s chest as Ango sat down, the bartender watching fondly from afar.
“Dazai?” Odasaku called again, making him realize how he had yet to answer the man’s question, frantically nodding his head in earnest. “‘M fine, ‘m fine.” He managed to mumble, letting his eyes slide shut as he took in all of what just happened.
It was unexpected, he was so unprepared. Those foreign tingles fried his brain in a way he couldn’t explain, but for some strange, strange reason…
He wanted Odasaku to do it again.
It was so fun, so unpredictable, so…not boring. It lit a fire in Dazai’s heart and the uncontrollable laughter left him feeling so light. He was practically boneless, the blush on his face felt so hot, yet he didn’t mind. He only found himself snuggling further into Oda’s gentle embrace, wishing to himself for the other to do it again. But at the same time, he was exhausted, he wanted a nap right about now, no more of that for him then.
“Well, now I’m just glad the Port Mafia’s enemies never thought of tickle torture to get the answers they wanted; we all would have been so screwed.” Dazai huffed at that, cheeks flushing for a whole other embarrassing reason now at Ango’s smartass comment.
“Oh fuck you, Ango.” He growled lightly only to quietly yelp and giggle feverishly at the tweak to his sides from Odasaku, practically melting on the spot. “Oi, no cussing at Ango. I’m not afraid to dish out some more of this for the next hour.”
Dazai hiccupped, mumbling ‘mercy mercy mercy’ and vigorously shaking his head. Thankfully Odasaku didn’t go through with his playful threat, instead letting his arms wrap around Dazai and settle comfortably.
“Finally, a knight and shining armor to save me from your insanity.” Ango rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh as he leaned his head against his palm. “Although, I suggest you get to cleaning up your mess as soon as possible. That would be appreciated.”
…Mess?
“Eh?” Dazai tilted his head, blinking his eyes open to look to the opposite side of them, almost shooting up in surprise at what he saw. Multiple bar stools had fallen to the ground, and Odasaku’s drink was miserably spilt over the bar counter, sitting there sadly.
An even brighter flush of embarrassment took over him, something he for once couldn’t seem to hide as he sulked heavily. “How did I do that..?” He muttered to himself briefly. “Don’t ask how; just get to cleaning already.” Ango pressed, downing the rest of his tomato juice.
“But Angooo!” Dazai complained, leaning heavily back against Odasaku, who bonked him lightly on the head. “Your mess, you clean it up.” He said, which caused Dazai to gap at him. “But you’re the one responsible for making me make this mess, Odasaku!” Odasaku hummed with a shrug. “You still did it, take responsibility. You're a mafioso for God’s sake, Dazai.” Ango huffed.
“Uuuugh, fine!” Dazai whined, sulking off Odasaku’s lap and begrudgingly setting to work on picking up the bar stools. He almost hissed at Odasaku chuckling behind him, but thought better of it, knowing that would lead him nowhere.
He didn’t complain as much as he usually did though, as for once, he wasn’t as opposed as he thought he’d be to cleaning up his mess. All he could really think about was when and how he could get that to happen again. You can’t really blame him.
After all, he’d really like to know all the ins and outs of this ‘Port Mafia Styled Torture’.
#HBWriting#bsd tickle fic#Lee!Dazai#Ler!Oda#Ler!Ango#Buraiha Trio#bsd#please do not tag this as Oda/Dazai#This is purely platonic I just hc that Dazai's love language is Physical Touch!#XD#bungou stray dogs tickling
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need need need this. how do the boys sleep with you in bed? hands around you? chest?
ooh this has been music to my ears, or rather my eyes. this is going to be v fluffy so be prepared <333 Also doing literally all the boys because this is some good practice for me to see how I want to write the others I've never written for (:
Pedro: Going off of how he is in his interviews, I believe that he is a very touchy (yet respectful) lover. Perhaps physical touch is his love language so even when you are both sleeping, he wants to have you on him somehow. A hand on your thigh, wrapped around your waist, feeling you late at night to make sure you're still there. He would wake you up by lightly kissing you maybe, making you arise without too much of a struggle. I believe that he is a gentle lover first, and even when you are both in slumber, his gentleness always goes above and beyond.
Javier: Based off of his wonderful sex scenes, I believe that he is also a touchy lover. He wants to hold you close, I just believe that it is out of love and also guilt. Maybe he believes he doesn't deserve you and one day you may walk out on him so he holds you close whenever he gets to keep his thoughts at bay. He also worries about sicarios coming after who he loves so as to make sure that in the event that someone may come after you both when you are both asleep, he always shields you when spooning. He covers you with his body to ensure that he is your protector no matter what. There's also the simplicity in sleeping with you that he loves. He enjoys it when you are both facing each other, especially on a trip away because then he can relax. He can wake up to you still by his side, not a figment of his imagination. I also think that he loves the proximity in case his usual urges get the best of him and he needs you with ease.
Javi G: If there is one thing I think Javi G would do, is that he would let you sleep however you want on him. You could even sleep on top of him and he would view it as the perfect blanket that he's needed for so long. All in all, the man loves to have what's his, so I fully expect for him to even have his legs tangled with yours even if he's turned away from you because it's too hot. Or, when taking a nap he loves when you sleep on his chest. There may have been a few times when you heard his heart beating out of his chest over it and you didn't comment on it, but you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him. I can also picture him coming back from a party where you're already fast asleep and he carefully gets into bed and slides in to hold you close, apologizing for making you wait for him.
Whiskey: A southern lover like Jack is not going to settle for not being on you. He loves to cuddle with you, laying on you whenever he gets the chance because his little lady is soft and he only wants you as his pillow. The best for you is when you're both in bed watching a movie and he is laying on your chest, of course telling you that he's not tired and five minutes into the movie he's lightly snoring. In turn, There have been times where you've laid on his tummy and perhaps tickled him because whether he would admit it or not to you, he was as ticklish as it gets. During rest, the best is for you to both face each other as you love to have pillow talk before you both close your eyes. Plus, it gives you a chance to ruin Jack's hair since he always has his hair hidden in his stetson hat. He acts like he hates it, but with you, he enjoys every bit of it because you always tell him that when you run your fingers through his hair it calms you.
Frankie: Frankie is touch starved. The man is a pilot, and while he loves the boys there's nothing like the touch of his lover to make him remember why he comes home from all his daring adventures. Every time he arrives at your home, he gets on the couch with you and you let him take his time to rest, no questions asked until he's ready to talk to you. Sometimes if there's something hard, like the death of Redfly he has cried in your arms and you've removed his infamous hat to pat his head, telling him that it's okay. But other times he's sweet, loving, and just wants to make up for the lost time. His favorite way to nap with you is with his right in between your thighs and you playing with his hair before you fall back into slumber. He's a thigh man so at any point where there's an excuse to be there, (and of course have you squeeze your thighs around his head,) he's a happy man. For regular sleeping, he's content with laying on his back holding your hand while you take up the whole bed because whether you admit it or not, the bed is 90% yours and 10% his.
Dave: Hmm, this is a little tricky since he doesn't strike as me a close lover. Considering his life, I would imagine that at first, he wouldn't want to touch you because this is supposed to be simple for him. Cuddling and other non-intimate forms of intimacy complicate things. But when he realizes that you're meant to be a permanent fixture in his life, he relaxes, and for the first time he opens his chest up to let you rest on him. Although he would never admit it to you, it was nice to have someone see him as him, not the killer that he was made to be for money.
Din: Din Din Din. My god, I know he can be one of two ways. Either initially, he's going to hold you so close that you can't breathe or he's too caught up to touch you because he feels bad for having a certain attachment. if he's afraid of attachment, cuddling is a no no. Not because he doesn't want to, but he wants to find a way to push you away for your safety. But soon you break down his walls, settling for just feet tangled together while you sleep on opposite sides before one night he turns over to pull you to him. It's subtle, but you feel your stomach do somersaults with how his hand feels around you. If Din is extremely touching going into it, you're not getting away from him. He's going to want to touch you no matter where you are in the razor crest, and tangled in the sheets will only increase that ten-fold. He finds you to be intoxicating, and mesmerizing. So to have you with him? He's happy. Considering that he doesn't take his helmet off as much it would be hard to find comfortable positions so you would settle for being blindfolded for the night so he could have his helmet off to cuddle with you. He would spoon you or on tough nights such as having to give Grogu to Luke you would spoon him, knowing that this was his most vulnerable state with you. After you two are married, he's constantly looking at you and you both have fallen asleep where you two have some form of intimate eye contact when you wake up. Many mornings spent where you wake up to his hand carding through your hair, his sweet nothings as he tells you that he's grateful to have you.
Dieter: Dieter, the man of the hour. Although he's too coked up sometimes, he loves you. Especially with his career not going the way he likes, he spends more time with you so he can forget about it. In some ways, he's learned that all he needs is you because you're the only real person in his life out of everyone that he comes across in Hollywood. So sleeping together means that he's content with enjoying spooning, even with you being the bigger spoon to keep him from taking another line. You have given him the chance to not be California sober, but sober for real. He finds that while he may miss the high he had for so long, you're a high he will never get enough of because you make him feel complete, even when he decides to hog up the bed because he sleeps like starfish when he comes home from shooting.
Oberyn: I don't think that he and Elaria wouldn't make you sleep in the middle. Based on how they are with each other, they wouldn't keep their hands off of you either so being smack in the middle is the perfect agreement for you three. Oberyn would be snug behind you and Elaria would face you, occasionally cupping your face if you went to sleep before her and you waking up to Oberyn traveling south of your body and Elaria staying up north or vice versa. On the rare occasion one didn't join to bed right away, you would all still stay in position or let one of the other new people join and take the other spot until they returned, sometimes having 5 to 6 people in bed over the usual sexcapades that happened. But nonetheless, even if it was a day of pure relaxation, they would still cuddle with you and tell you how lucky they are to have you join their relationship.
Ezra: With both his arms, he's handsy. With just one arm, it's just the same but he tends to get more creative with getting his legs tangled with yours. Sometimes you hate it because his feet are icicles but once they are warmed up, you want nothing more than to stay in that position. The better position for you two is with his arm draped around you since you no longer had to hear him complain about his arm falling asleep from you laying on it. Otherwise, you like to lay on top of him and hear his heartbeat as you want to remember that he is still with you. It lulls you to sleep and how he speaks to you, making you feel safe even with the near-death experiences you both shared.
Marcus: The O.G. lover boy, the man that deserves the world for how he nails all the love languages. Physical touch has to be his top though I'm sure. So after getting close to some and then having it end, he's more touchy with you, wanting the gentle reminder that you're not leaving since he has that on his mind more than he wants to admit to you. Often he's taken a nap on the couch with his head between your legs, a book still on his chest as he swore he was just resting his eyes and you only realize he's sleeping when light snores start coming out. But if there is one thing he loves when you have fallen asleep in his lap, content with everything as he has the love of life with him. Also, he takes it to say everything he wants to say to you but is too afraid to do so when he is awake. He tells you that he's in love with you, wants to marry you, start a family with you, and has even said he picked out the ring just so that he gets it off his chest without worrying about slipping up later. You didn't learn this until he talked about what he loved about you when he thought you were sleeping. But from then on, you never mentioned it, only falling in love with him further knowing he loved you more than ever.
Tovar: Tricky, considering the time frame he's from, but I believe that because of his lifestyle, it makes it hard for him to actually understand why you crave physical touch. Not so much the repulsion but confusion that gets him. At first he only slept with his arms out, mainly to pull out a knife if someone were to attack him, but you took the opportunity to get into his nook which made his heart beat out of his chest before realizing it was nice to have you there. And then, slowly but sure one night came where he wrapped that arm around you, which almost made you cry. The only time he came to you, in need of cuddles was after a funeral. You never saw him so vulnerable, and you held him until he fell asleep, not mentioning it to him the next morning but he silently thanked you by picking flowers for you and then getting thorns all in his hands. But from there, he was more attentive to your needs beyond the usual, even if it went beyond his comfort zone.
Max Phillips: The first night you hook up, he is sending you on your way because well, he doesn't do commitment with the life he has to run. Of course, you're sad, and part of you even regrets sleeping with him, although he was the best you ever had. But when he comes to your house one night after you left in a hurry, realizing just what he did to you apologizes, one thing leads to another, and by the end of the night, he causally drapes his arm around you as he's asleep. You don't mention it to him the following day, instead wrapping your arms around him when he's up making breakfast for you both (well, rather for you since he's a vampire.) You can feel him tense up but soon relax into your touch as he continues making breakfast. And thus, every time you tangled into bed as secret lovers and into something more, he found that all he could do was tangle his legs into yours and just put his arm around you. He would mainly hold you if you were at your breaking point, stepping out of his comfort zone to comfort you. But at night, there have been times when you wiggled your way into his arms and he would only lay there pretending he didn't like it before pulling you closer the minute you went to turn to the other side.
Maxwell Lord: Hey, this other Max is still a soft lover, and I'm running with that. There is no way with how adorable he is with his son that I'm going to not believe for a second that he's soft with you. Probably is kinda a dick towards you because he may sleep around with his numerous secretaries. Still, when he invites you to dinner after you're done being bent over in his office, you feel like something is different. He pulls out all the stops and cooks dinner at his place, although it ends up being takeout since he somehow can't boil water. But even when you end up making out like teens on his couch after eating Chinese food, there's a beautiful element between you two. He lays on you and you guys talk about your upbringings, he mentions his son and you mention your family, but most of all, he doesn't push you away. So for the rest of your relationship, that's how your nights go. Some days he'll tell you about his day, other days you won't hear about it until it's late and you're half asleep. And sometimes, when it's almost unbearable he'll just ask for a hug so that he can escape the world. And of course, Alistair will join the hug before leaving you two be at night. But most of all, you're able to mend his heart even when everything else is crashing down on him when you sleep, him resting his head on your chest and lulling him to sleep.
Joel (listen I am in love with Joel from playing TLOU before I even knew Pedro was playing him, and now that he is, I'm somehow alive yet permanently happy. ALSO SPOILERS FOR TLOU SORRY): Listen, after he lost Sarah, he was a wreck understandably. How can one open up after such a terrible loss? But that's when he comes to find you in the zones. You had recently lost your child, and you guys could lean on each other even with his gruffness. And maybe getting into a relationship while in the middle of an apocalypse where you could lose each other at any point in time is scary. But at night when it's just you two in the spare bed that was not covered in debris, you can at least pretend that life is normal. You share your thoughts on what it would be if the apocalypse hadn't happened, what your former lives were, and what you guys could grow together. Sure, it's mainly far-fetched since it seemed impossible for anything to go back to normal. Still, whenever a blood-curdling scream rings out or more loss happens, you at least have each other to spoon the other or fall asleep in the other's lap to make the most uncomfortable of situations more bearable. And of course, when Ellie comes along she makes fun of you both for being so in love and how you are curled up together all the time when sleep takes over. But deep down, it gives her some sense of peace seeing two people happy together.
I hope you enjoyed <3333
#the mandalorian#pedro pascal#din djarin#lana things#pedropascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fluff#agent whiskey#pedro pascal characters#agentwhiskey#joel miller#maxwell lord#max phillips#max phillips x reader#pero tovar#marcus pike#ezra x reader#prince oberyn x reader#prince oberyn#dieter bravo#frankiemorales#javi gutierrez#javierpeña
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Hi I'm just thinking how funny it would be, being Silco's kid and dating. He would never suggest you weren't allowed, he wouldn't want to make you unhappy, but he definitely has something snarky to say about anyone you like. "Yes, they'd make a good partner...if you manage to trim the extra arrogance off." "Darling, they couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel." "Them?...Interesting choice. 🙄"
Lsnkxdjxkndmxnnsnzndndmdndn
Your dating options are very limited lmao
...
Your father was a man of refined tastes despite his poor background. He always strived for more, for better. As the night went on and your boyfriend tossed metal coins onto the bar and you drank together, the alcohol made your throat bubble with laughter and burn from the sting.
Finn wasn't exactly your first choice either surprisingly enough but as time went on he won you over. Silco would never doubt his baby's intellect but he questioned his own sanity and parenting when he saw you holding hands with Finn. You had grown up in the Lanes together and been on and off again friends. Doing odd jobs here and there. His mom was apart of the Revolution your father was planning with Vander and while Silco and your uncle didn't want you involved since you were still a child, Finn was more than ready to fight. For his freedom, for Zaun.
Silco will give him credit where it's due, Finn was no coward. Just an idiot.
"It's a beautiful night..." He mumbles softly his pale green eyes focusing on you as he pulls you closer too him. His gold jaw grazes your skin when he leans down to speak to you, his thick voice melting like candle wax sending shivers down your spine as his breath tickled your ear. Breathing in Zauns air and the smell of Finn and the drinks you'd both had, you were happy he suggested to walk you home instead of taking a carriage.
"Is it?" You tease him with a soft hum leaning into his sturdy frame.
Smiling and shaking his head with a tsk at your playful nature, you shift his jacket closer as you walked down Zauns quiet night streets. You continued to let yourself get lost in your thoughts as the two of you walked, enjoying his company and the familiar Zaun sounds. As his hand snakes tighter around your waist you hummed content, leaning more into his touch as you thought back on the origins of your relationship and how this all became to be.
You were often the one patching him up when his fights went wrong, playfully scolding him as you did. As he gave the back of your ear a kiss you closed your eyes liking the feel of cool metal against your skin.
The prosthetic jaw had been your last straw as a kid. You repeatedly told him to be more careful, to not get himself hurt, not to do anything stupid and there he was half dead at your feet with no where else to go. You had helped him that last time with some shimmer you swiped from your father and then you left.
As he began pecking your face with small kisses you laughed at the sensation, pulling away from the ticklish feeling only for him to pull you closer. As he cupped your face with his hand serpentine eyes focused on you, your glad he didn't stay away.
The kiss was sweet and tangy tasting like whiskey and honey, which you're pretty sure was his last drink. As your arms wrapped behind his neck his arms stayed around your waist. The kiss had an undertone of metal like always but that didn't bother you one bit. You smiled into the kiss hands tangling into the back of his shirt as you lean into it depending the kiss. When you pull away for air he smiles, eyes mischievous and hooded as his hair falls loose framing his beautiful face. The gold he decorated himself with shines in the neon lights around you while his green eyes glow. You got to see this more gentle but still mischievous side of him that no one else was able to see and it made you head spin and heart soar.
When did you fall in love? You couldn't remember.
As he brings a hand up to stroke your cheek you lean into the touch feeling the soft leather of his gloves and his calloused fingertips. When he gives you another kiss and there's always another your nose crinkles as you smile kissing back. You think you remember now alcohol and lack of air making your head a little dizzy.
Finn was one of your fathers Chem Barons. The first time you saw his golden jaw, yours dropped. When you regained your composure not letting him see how shaken you were, his green eyes focused solely on you the entire meeting not listening to a word your father was saying. He made his intentions clear, that he would win you back and it was only a matter of time. As Finn pulled away and you leaned forward not wanting the kiss to end you supposed he was right.
"My firecracker..." He mumbles and you melt at the nickname.
He was known as a player, a frequent employer for many woman and men of the night. He stopped all and any flings declaring you were the only one in his life even before you fell for him and got together. While many brothels knew him and many prostitutes and escorts sought after him he dropped them altogether to focus on you. And to his credit he's never faltered, never been tempted. You were always the one and as he leads you back to the Last Drop, opening the door for you like a gentlemen with Sevika giving him a disapproving look as Silco puffs a cigar and makes sure you make it to the stairs and your room safely you knew it. Because he was always your one too.
#finn x reader#arcane finn#arcane finn x reader#arcane x reader#lol finn#lol finn x reader#father silco#arcane x y/n#arcane lol x reader#lol arcane x reader#lol x reader#silco#finn
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Mention of alcohol, compress being a slight flirt, self-insert ish. Dabi being a menace at the end
The L.O.V. being bored one day with nothing to do so Toga suggests trying out a game that she saw going around, Try Not To Laugh. All the other members have to try one at at time to make one select person laugh, or at least spit out their drink of choice.
Toga was one of the easiest to break, giggling at Twice’s antics and Compress’ theme of dragging one of the others into his bits and jokes.
Shigaraki would grumble about it being a stupid idea but joining anyways because what else is there to do? Might as well just stand there and watch them, somehow making Magne and Toga laugh.
Compress and Twice were quite a dynamic duo with coming up with a compelling idea to break someone, one of them always forgetting a part or a line making the other break character and breaking the person as well as laughter roars through the league’s hideout.
One person had yet to break amongst the inside jokes and pranks, besides Kurogiri, who had elected to stay by the bar and control the time limit given for the members to use. Dabi was always stubborn when it came to laughing at their jokes, giving a shrug and an ‘innocent’ look whenever Toga pouted at him being impossible to break.
“Y/n, why don’t you try to do it?” Toga questioned, looking at your form from the bar stool, drink in hand as she pointed towards the scarred villain who still held a mouthful of whiskey. “C'mon, at least try to break him! You haven’t joined all game.”
You shrugged slightly in response, looking at the energetic blond, “Just not that funny when it comes to this kind of stuff, Toga.”
“Please, you are always hilarious with your jokes, my dear.” Compress chimed in from his spot, mask set aside as he looked at you with a small grin, “You always put on quite the show.”
“Yeah doll, try an’ make me laugh. Haven’t heard any of your jokes yet. ” Dabi hummed, swallowing the alcohol as he leaned against his palms, half-lidded eyes looking at you with a small smirk. “All the others have, yet I always miss them somehow.”
Worth a shot, at least. No one else managed to break the villain from his cocky, yet amused, stature. You sighed, downing the rest of your drink before moving off the stool, “Alright. Fill your mouth and shut it, Dabi, doubt I’ll make you laugh.”
Dabi gave an amused snicker, leaning back as he let the whiskey fill his mouth once more before looking at you with an amused gleam in his eyes. He was curious to see what the newbie could come up with, if the regular members couldn’t even make him laugh when they were trying and teaming up against him.
You hummed quietly, looking at the man’s form as he teasingly moved his hands in front of his open legs, leaning forward on his chair as he gave a cocky hum. What could be said or done to make him spill that alcohol from his lips? Twice and Compress already tried magic and random sounds, Toga poked and prodded him saying how he had to be ticklish somehow and that’d be what gets him to laugh.. Even Shigaraki gave a half-assed attempt at the other villain.
Maybe there had to be something that he just found hilarious, but what in the hell would it be?
There was always the old option of playing dirty…
“-Hurry up, we don’t have all day y'know.” Shigaraki hissed from his spot in the corner, looking up from the screen of his game.
“Fight me, you barbecued necrophiliac.” The words left your mouth quicker than you could hope, your eyes wide at the realization as a snicker left Dabi’s mouth. So maybe there was a way-
“Hey, Dabi, if you spit that you’re gonna get in trouble. Or have to walk around without pants if you get yourself wet, and not in the fun way.” You spoke up, a small grin poking at the corners of your mouth as you watched the man bit back an obvious grin at the comments, the inside of his cheek bitten by his teeth. “Yet again, clothes are expensive and you, well- let’s say you don’t mean that much to me in those terms.”
Another snicker left him as the villain lifted a hand to shield his mouth, amber drops slipping between the cracks of his fingers as he spit the whiskey out before shaking his hand off. “Alright doll, you got me. Now it’s my turn against you.”
The evil gleam in his eyes spoke volumes as he lifted his eyes to look at you.
#dabi x reader#dabi bnha#mr compress#shigaraki mha#mha x male reader#twice mha#toga mha#villains play try not to laugh#it doesn't end well
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Inspired by: Like It - Summer Walker & 6LACK
No Love - Summer Walker & SZA
Sex is fun and all. But what about the intimate moments sprinkled throughout the day which lead to it? Like—
A hand pressing hot at the small of your back as he sidles behind you in the kitchen while you’re prepping breakfast.
An exchange of tender smiles and chuckles over your shoulder follows. Kyojuro can’t help how his cheeks pepper pink when you turn around, offering him a finger oozing with chocolate. He gratefully accepts. And god dammit.
It’s honestly sinful, his mouth blistering and wet, tongue serpentine. How pornographic he sounds, humming his appreciation with eyes sliding shut, suckling, nipping, rolling. Working every morsel of chocolate out of your knuckle. His hands perched on your waist, drawing you closer, thumbs working languid circles over your hipbones, delightful tingles striking your epicenter.
He releases your finger with a definitive pop. Flashes you an innocent smile that’s all teeth and curled lashes, though his eyes betray him. A golden maelstrom of emotions flittering over your skin. He maneuvers past you to make coffee before you have time to decipher them.
How about when his palms suddenly find your waist while you’re in downward dog, the prattle of the yoga instructor fading to background noise?
Your heart thunders in your ears. Sweat pools on the vinyl of your mat below, your breath leaping out in short, choppy bursts. The prominent bulge nestled between your cheeks is hard to ignore. Balmy. Solid. Twitching. Unmistakably him. He notches your pelvis to him to keep you from barreling forward, fingers splayed over your hips and thighs, though you’re sure his intentions are everything but pure.
“Sorry,” he says, voice dripping with smugness. Sexy. Dark and viscous like whiskey. “Didn’t see you there, gorgeous.”
Devilish thing. Of course Kyojuro saw you. You’re in the middle of the living room, for crying out loud. He isn’t slick while he bucks against you, evoking a gasp from your lips before letting go. You catch yourself on your elbows, peering between your splayed legs to watch him leave. And you’re bereft of his body’s warmth and the heady scent of burnt cedar he carries whilst he disappears down the hall.
Let’s talk about how he always has to touch you in some way while in the company of friends.
Kyojuro idly toys with your braids, gaze focused on Tengen seated across from you both. A virile arm slung about your shoulders, tucking you into his side. He smooths a finger down the swell of your inflamed cheek, down the crook of your shoulder when no one is the wiser, the feeling akin to tickle bugs rolling across your skin.
Kyojuro laughs at a joke you can’t focus on; his palms branding your skin make you dizzy. He pinches and kneads your belly fat, a silent invocation of how he wants it swollen with his baby.
Your thighs are his favorite. Too entranced by how they crater beneath his fingers when he squeezes, mischief dancing in the corners of his irises. Hand making several expeditions up and down your quad, inching ever closer to where you desire him most.
You bite your lip, squeezing your legs together to ward off that fluttery feeling when he leans in, huffing a ghostly and ticklish breath into your ear.
“Let’s get out of here.”
You nod at a neck-breaking speed. Don’t bother with formalities as you both depart, a giggle on your tongue and a hand clutching your ass, ushering you towards the car.
#rengoku x reader#kyojuro x reader#rengoku x black reader#kyojuro x black reader#just musing#i needed to get this out#wanted to write a part about feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries in front of the fridge in just your undies but
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Court of Darkness: Spicy Gifts
My brain is trash. Fenn gleefully sends the consorts a spicy gift and an accompanying message for him + MC. What does each consort get?
Each gift is sent to the consort’s room. The consort and MC read the message together.
Thank you Discord Chat for this inspiration…
GUY - A bag of feathers
Message: Treasure, did you know Guy is ticklish? Oh yes he is! In fact, the parts of his body that are especially ticklish are—
*Message is engulfed in flames by Guy before MC finishes reading*
Jasper - Handcuffs
Message: I believe you misplaced the last pair in your possession, dear Jasper…
Lynt - Green Zinger Herbal Tea
Message: In case you need help in staying awake for MC Lynt…
Tino: You received a gift from Prince Luxure? How generous of him! O-oh my, why are you blushing Miss MC?!
Tino: Edible chocolate body paint
Message: Some sweets should be consumed in a different manner…
Tino: Aaaaaah! *Face turns BRIGHT red*
Toa: Smutty Romance Book
Message: Please see the highlighted passages on page 158. You and Treasure will LOVE this. My recent date certainly did!
Toa: *Keeps an absolute straight face as he discards the message and thinks to himself* Actually, it’s page 156. (Toa has already read the book)
Knight: Love potion
Message: This potion is just like catnip, but for lovely couples like you and MC!
Knight: DISGUSTING! *Throws potion away*
Roy: Matching Lingerie (His and Hers)
Message: I don’t know which one of you will relish these outfits more…
PS—The Soundproof Spell to your room is not particularly effective. You two gave quite the performance last night. Well done!
Grayson: Three riding crops
Message: One for Nox, one for Grayson, one for MC…
Rio: Eternal Donuts Scented Perfume
Message: Which smells and tastes sweeter? Only one way to find out…
Lance: Whiskey Bonbons
Message: What better way to unwind than sampling these delights?
Dia: Spotted Mushrooms
Message: Crush these into a powder, and they’ll make quite an aphrodisiac. But then, you probably already know that, don’t you dear Dia?
Lou: A Mirror
Message: Your crystal ball reveals everything at the Academy. Wouldn’t you like to see what you and MC look like in the moment?
Fenn: Himself
Fenn leads MC to his chambers and strips. “You don’t require an additional gift Treasure, you have me!”
#court of darkness#voltage games#voltage otome#court of darkness voltage#voltage guys#guy avari#lynt akedia#fenn luxure#toa qelsum#roy invidia
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For more TWST Shenanigans please join the Discord Server!
𝕃𝕖𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕨, 𝕀 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖…
Epel Felmier - Apple Child (Head Canons)
Epel has had more than his fair share of trips to the nurses office due to being rough and rowdy in PE- the amount of times he’s scratched up his elbows and knees or bloodied his little nose is enough to give Vil grey hair and a heart attack.
Despite being a rough and tough country boy, he is genuinely very gentle at heart and befriends animals easily.
He has a special affinity for bunnies, they are practically drawn to him.
Sometimes when he’s all alone he hums a small song from home, his grandmother taught him “I’m Wishing” and he hums it whenever he misses his MeeMaw.
He sleeps looking like a baby, both of his fists are loose by his face with one clutching his poison apple pillow. Do NOT say he looks cute- like a kitten he will bite!
Epel = Spicy Kitten with extra ferocious murder mittens.
The quilt on his bed was made by his grandmum for him when he was younger and he has not parted with it since.
Much like Riddle, he has been called every short person nickname there is.
He is very much like a bunny, he will get all thumpy when he is angry.
Very, and I mean very squishy face!!
He has called Vil “mum” more than once and is absolutely embarrassed by the fact he’s done it without thinking. (Vil takes that as a compliment)
After what happened at STYX, Epel was quite honestly traumatized and never wanted to part from Vil’s side for at least a week or two after the situation. Vil even caught Epel outside his door one morning fast asleep, he could not help but awe at the sight and feel his heart break a bit at the sight knowing how Epel felt.
Epel secretly admires the Fairest Princess (Snow White) and adores how she, like his MeeMaw, can bake amazing pies.
Flexes his muscles in front of the mirror every morning just to see if he got stronger.
Measures himself constantly to see if he’s gotten a growth spurt.
Once he ate so much meat that he got a major stomach ache, he learned his lesson- only for a little while…
Epel has come back to Pomefiore looking like an absolute mess because he decided to be a little rough on his broom and ended up taking a mud bath. Vil was furious with him for that.
Epel calls his grandmother and family before bedtime just so he can hear their voices.
Epel gets along well with Silver, he’s even asked Silver for help in learning to use a sword because he wants to become stronger and manlier. Silver just is happy to have a new training partner.
He is Vil’s favourite whether he likes it or not.
He has accidentally called Rook “dad”.
Epel has a really hard time falling asleep again if he has a nightmare and will suffer eye bags and exhaustion because of it.
His worst nightmare ever was from when he was a child and he ate a poison apple in his dream, that nightmare comes back to haunt him on occasion.
Despite hating his adorableness, Epel is a master of the “puppy eyes” and uses them from time to time if he really, really wants something.
Sometimes he hums a tune when he cleans or does chores.
Ticklish on his feet and underarms. Tickle him and you will hear the wildest laughter in all of Twisted Wonderland.
His Bath and Body Works scent is either Whiskey Reserve or Champagne Apple & Honey (or anything in the fall collection)
He has a candy and beef jerky stash under his bed.
#windblume writes#epel felmier#twst epel#Epel Felmier headcanons#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#disney twisted wonderland#Disney TWST#pomefiore family#pomefiore#twst vil#rook hunt#twst rook#headcanons
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mbti✨ The Debater vs. Illness 🤧🤒
entp (the debater)
x
infj (the advocate)
couple
ft. intj (the architect)
doctor
-------------------------------
[ entp bundled up in coats, scarves, and winter hats; face pale and eyes blood shot. sitting shivering in their office]
[infj (who is a nurse) enter's]
infj: entp, you've been sweating in here all day... are you drinking fluids?
entp: yes. *pulls out a rocks glass full of whiskey 🥃 and points*
infj: ok, no. you need to drink water!*sets a cup of ice water on desk*
entp: usually i take mine neat, but i will make an exception, in the name of health. *takes ice cube out of water and puts it in whiskey*
infj: *like they're talking to a stubborn child* ok, you need take off those layers, rehydrate, and to go to the doctor.
entp: thank you for your concern. now please turn the thermostat up to 90(F) and leave me alone.
infj: *crosses arms* entp, this isn't safe.
entp: i am a fully grown human adult. i have had a cold before. therefore, i need no help! *stands up* so, if you don't min- *passes out taking chair with them*
infj: *unfazed* yep, that seems about right.
[later, in the exam room at the hospital infj works at]
entp: i would once again like to object to being brought here against my will. *handing infj their finished hospital form*
infj: entp! you redacted (blacked out) all the information!?
entp: i answered some of it.
infj: for date of birth you just wrote, springtime...
entp: which is true!
infj: *again with a voice like talking to a stubborn child* everything you write down is confidential, we need you to give real answers on the form.
entp: *gruff groan like a small bear* mmf fine.
infj: ok, *starts filling out form for entp* how many drinks of alcohol do you consume per week?
entp: one.
infj: *surprised tone* that's it only one drink?
entp: one shelf.
infj: *disappointed but not surprised expression*
infj: do you exercise?
entp: yes. wood working and love making. *winks at infj*
infj: *rolls eyes and writes on chart*
infj: do you have any mental illness in the family?
entp: *nods* i have an uncle who's a flat-earther.
infj: any allergies?
entp: cowardice and weak willed people. oh, and hazelnuts.
infj: sexual history? *looks up with just their eyes from clip board*
entp: epic, and private *small smirk*
[intj doctor comes in, with no greetings or small talk and begins putting on gloves]
infj: entp, this is Dr.Intj. they're going to evaluate you.
entp: before you begin, some ground rules. first i need you to explain everything you are going to do before you do it. so i can determine whether i will allow you to- uargh! *intj sticks tongue depressor in entp's mouth*
entp: *intj removes tongue depressor* uggh. balsa-wood? you could at least used mahogany.
[has entp lay down and check for abdominal pain]
intj: *presses on left side of abdomen*
entp: *child-like giggle from being ticklish*
intj: *presses on right side of abdomen*
entp: *child-like giggle*
[intj gets entp sat up and starts writing on prescription pad]
intj: you have strep throat. writing you a prescription for penicillin.
infj: your other test results will be ready in 20 mins. your cholesterol, your-
entp: not interested. *stands up and takes prescription from intj doctor* [cheerful voice] good day. *leaves*
intj: wow.
infj: yeah, sorry about them, they-
intj: i wish all my patients were like that. *walks out*
infj: *camera looks* 😐
#mbti#mbti types#16 personalities#16 personality types#mbti humor#mbti relationships#mbti professions#mbti memes#based on an ep of parks and recreation#edited for mbti humor#mbti funny#entp things#entp x infj#entp#entj#intp#intj#infj#infp#enfj#enfp#estj#estp#istj#istp#esfj#esfp#isfj#isfp#mbti entp
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𝓓𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝟔
𝑶𝑻𝟑 𝒐𝒓 𝑶𝑪𝒔
𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𖤐 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑫𝑵𝑰
𝑺𝒕. 𝑪𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐: @gointothevvater
𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏' 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆 🖤🤍✨
Tonight was supposed to be a simple movie night. Victims are screaming in the background as St. Cecilia crawls closer to Dolly.
"You've been a bit lonely haven't you, love? Is that why you invited me over?"
"I dunno…" Dolly inches back, her face flushing red. "I just thought you'd like this movie, I guess."
"You know I'm not a big movie fan. Admit it."
"I--" Dolly stutters as she gets closer still. "I mean--"
"Admit it," St. Cecilia says again.
Dolly can hardly stand how good she looks but, hell, she's always gorgeous. She wonders why on earth St. Cecilia is even attracted to her. And her smell! Her fragrance is breathtaking. Warm cherry and earthy woods radiated from her. If she hadn't been pounding whiskey like crazy before she came over, she could've sworn it was St. Cecilia that was intoxicating her.
"Okay, okay. Yeah. You got me, all right? I've been thinking about you a lot lately, actually…"
"How cute." St. Cecilia playfully touches the tip of Dolly's nose with her own. "What exactly have you been thinking about me?"
"Lots of things, y'know… I always have so much fun when you're around and--"
St. Cecilia presses her lips to Dolly's, cutting off her less-than-eloquent rambling.
Dolly melts right into her luscious lips, reclining back against her pillow with St. Cecilia following close. Neither of them can be bothered to turn off the blood-curdling screams from the TV as the kiss grows deeper.
"It's not just the physical stuff, either… I just really like it when you're around," Dolly clarifies as St. Cecilia presses her knee between her thighs. "Hah... Oh... That feels so good!" She begins to grind against her knee.
"I'm well aware, love. You're just so cute like this. I can hardly help myself."
Dolly bit her lip, running her hands up St. Cecilia's sides, grabbing a tiny tit in each hand.
"You want me, don't you?" St. Cecilia's voice lilts in her ears, sweet as honey.
"God, yes…"
St. Cecilia chuckles, lifting her top off with ease. As she moves her knee, Dolly is quick to strip her clothes, ever eager for what is to come next. Once St. Cecilia is completely naked, Dolly stares up at her in awe. She's a goddess. She was sure of that and she's more than vulnerable to her power.
St. Cecilia descends on her again like an angel from heaven, pushing the misplaced hair from her friend's face. A beautiful smile graces her lips as she looks down on Dolly. She closes the distance between them with a steamy, passionate kiss, her tongue prodding and sliding against hers. Her hand wanders down Dolly's torso, tickling her hips on the way.
"Careful, I'm ticklish there!" Dolly blushes, giggling as St. Cecilia's fingertips dance across her pale skin.
"Good to know." She winks, teasing her with this new knowledge. Finally, her fingers find their mark, circling her clit softly.
Dolly's breathing hitches, as she grinds down on her fingers, moaning her name. She begs for more, and St. Cecilia is more than happy to oblige, her touch hastening against her wet warmth. Before Dolly can bat an eye she's pulled her fingers from her. She lets out a needy groan, her eyes opening to find the blonde between her legs.
"Shh," she hushes her softly, "I'll give you what you need, love." She lowers her head, beginning to lap tenderly at her clit.
"Oh… Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!" Dolly trembles under St. Cecilia's flicking tongue, only getting more and more needy. All at once, her tongue slips inside of her, pushing up into that certain spot. Dolly is helpless, lying there moaning and groaning as she rides her face. Her fingers tangled up in her gorgeous blonde hair as she rolls her hips over and over again while St. Cecilia continues her ministrations. Her labret adds an exciting element, cold against her warm, wet vulva.
"Ceeeeelie… Oh, fuck! I'm gonna--"
St. Cecilia hums against her, her fingers taking over inside her as her tongue finds her clit once more. Dolly shakes below her, falling apart like the weak earth during a quake. Finally her core snaps, and she spills all down St. Cecilia's chin.
"Hoo, my God… Mmmm..." Dolly steadies below her, breathing heavily as St. Cecilia lays down next to her.
"Good, I take it?"
"Jesus fuck… Yes! Terrific!" She tilts her head so her eyes meet hers once more. St. Cecilia has this look about her that Dolly can tell means she's far from finished with their encounter.
Dolly smirks, taking her chin in between her thumb and forefinger. "You wanna sit on my face, gorgeous?" she asks unceremoniously.
"Well, aren't you a smooth talker?" St. Cecilia snickers, "How could I refuse such an elegant invitation?"
Dolly gives her exposed ass a quick smack. "Then get over here, sweetheart! Let me rock your world!"
St. Cecilia isn't usually the kind to take orders but she humors her friend, getting on her knees, each one at either side of her head. She gracefully lowers herself against Dolly's fervent lips, not wasting a moment.
"Mm!" Dolly immediately hums, going to work at her nub, vigorously lapping at her.
"Oh!" St. Cecilia gasps, not expecting her to start so quickly. "My, you're enthusiastic!"
Dolly smiles devilishly against her, a look of mischief in her eyes while sucks at her clit. St. Cecilia shivers as she rocks her hips back and forth while Dolly grabs ahold of her ass, pressing her even harder against her mouth. Her tongue slips inside of her easily, rubbing against her G-spot as her thumb seeks out her clit. She wasn't about to leave it lonely.
St. Cecilia's knees draw together in bliss, moaning as she squeezes at her partner's head.
Dolly doesn't mind. If this is how she went, so be it.
St. Cecilia rolls her hips faster now, delicious moans spilling from her lips as Dolly quickly flicks her tongue. She skillfully circles her clit with her thumb, faster and faster, indulging in the pretty little noises St. Cecilia makes.
"Oh, fuck… Dolly! That feels amazing…" Her breath is hitching as she speaks. "I don't think I can… Ah! Ah!" Her legs were so tight around her head, that she felt as if her eyes might pop out of her skull. St. Cecilia's hands grip tightly to the headboard of Dolly's bed.
Dolly is gifted with her cum dripping into her mouth and down her chin. St. Cecilia's shaking legs loosen around Dolly's head as she collapses next to her once more.
"How do you do that so quickly?" Her breathing is haggard and her face is glowing with sweat. She couldn't be more beautiful.
"A magician never reveals her secrets!" Dolly huffs, trying to steady her breathing. She proudly crosses her arms behind her head with a playful smirk.
Suddenly a pillow smacks her face. "You're so full of it!" St. Cecilia laughs, pulling the pillow away to grace Dolly's lips with a tender kiss.
"You know it, baby! Don't forget it!" Dolly chuckles, grabbing the remote to restart the movie. They had missed most of the beginning after all.
#dethentines2024#mtl oc#st. cecilia jameson#dahlia birkett#dolly macabre#deelie#nsft#dollym.writing#my mtl
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Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 4
As my friend Ashley put it, "The hip really is the main character."
Comments are always welcome! I love hearing your thoughts and reactions!
Rating: Mature (Again probably more like pg-13 but with language)
Chapter Warnings: death, celebration of death (Padblo Escobar's), brief mentions of the violence in Colombia, mentions (no descriptions) of rape, kidnapping, & abuse. Mentions of power dynamics and underage- age gap, anxious stream of consciousness, anxiety/panic attack
Words: 2,817
Series Master List | Author Master List
Journal Entry
December 3, 1993
Pablo Escobar was killed yesterday. Dad’s having guys from the office come over tonight for drinks.
It seems weird to celebrate death like this, but I also understand it. Escobar was responsible for the death of countless people. I wonder if I would sleep better at night if Mig He was dead.
“Emily, can you grab the poppers out of the oven?” Anna asked as she busied herself over a mixing bowl.
“Yeah, of course.” Emily threw on the oven mitts. “Is Dad expecting the entire DEA or something?”
“Or something,” Anna sighed. “You’d think it was Thanksgiving or something. I think he thinks this will double as the office Christmas party.”
“Good, one less thing to host.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Speaking of which, this is his party, where is he?”
“He’s out grilling.” Anna pushed two pans of dessert into the fridge to set. “Have you decided if you’re going to stay out with us? I know these aren’t your favorite things.”
Emily shrugged. “I might, but I know there’ll be a lot of shop talk.”
“Kids all taken care of?”
“Ale and Miguelito are at Jen’s for the night and Mateo is out with the sitter. I think they were going to the movies. I’m sure he’ll be passed out when they get back.”
“Don’t push yourself, okay? Choose what’s going to make you enjoy the night best. You don’t get the night off very often.”
Emily nodded. “At the very least, I’m going to eat some of this delicious food.” She grabbed a cracker off the plate Anna was working on. She smacked Emily’s hand.
“Emily Louise, párale!”
Emily grinned. “Tengo hambre, mamá.”
Anna rolled her eyes, but Emily could see the smile threatening to break on her face. Anna always smiled when Emily referred to her as mom. She swiped another cracker. Anna pinched at Emily’s side hitting her ticklish spot. She jerked back in laughter.
Someone knocked on the door. Anna frowned. “No one is supposed to be here for 30 minutes.”
“I’ll get it. There’s no way it’s anyone from the DEA. They’re always late.” Emily headed for the door. “I’m guessing it’s the babysitter. Mateo probably left something behind.”
She checked out the window. It wasn’t the babysitter. Her eyes fell on a pair of too-tight jeans and a hand resting on a popped-out hip. She opened the door. “Javier?”
He looked almost surprised to see her. “Emily, Hi.” He wore a dark leather jacket and a flannel that was appropriately buttoned for once.
“I didn’t know my dad invited you.”
“It’s good to see you too.” His lips tipped up.
“Sorry, that was rude. Come on in.” She stepped aside. “You’re early.”
“I can leave and come back if you want.” He pointed toward the door.
Emily sighed, fighting back her smile. “Nah, we’ll just put you to work.”
“No, we will not! He is our guest!” Anna called from the kitchen.
“I didn’t know she could hear us.”
Javier lowered his tone. “She sounds stressed.”
Emily matched his volume. “She is.”
Their shared laughter turned into awkwardness that hung above them like a cloud. It was a weird thing to open up to a person and then not talk for a while. What do you say? Thanks for listening to my trauma. The right words felt unachievable.
“My dad is out back. You can put the whiskey in the kitchen.”
“I was planning to hold onto this all night. No need to dirty a cup. It is a celebration you know…”
“Yeah.” She forced a smile. It didn’t convince either of them.
...
“Okay, okay,” Walt Breslin spoke, hushing the small group of agents. One would’ve thought the group was much larger from their sheer volume. He raised his cup in the air. “To another motherfuckin’ drug trafficker in the grave.”
“Here, here.” The group chorused. Glasses clinked against each other. Discussion rose up.
Emily stared at the group from a distance, her back pressed to the wall. The label of her soda felt gritty under the back and forth of her finger. They wore satirically large grins on their faces as if they’d chased after Escobar themselves. Yet the one person who had, wasn’t even with the group. She didn’t know where Javier had disappeared to, only that he was still here. His leather jacket hung by the door, and she could just see his untouched bottle of whiskey on the end of the kitchen counter.
Fucking Walt Breslin. He couldn’t stand that he was stateside when he-who-shall-not-be-named was arrested, and now Javier was here the night they were celebrating Escobar’s death. It must have been driving him mad.
In all fairness, Emily didn’t think Walt was a bad guy, but she felt uncomfortable around him more so than she did the other men her dad worked with. Walt knew most of the truth. Her father’s right-hand man, he was on the tarmac when her plane landed in Texas that night. He knew the parentage of her children and whose bed she’d warmed. She felt that judgment from him, whether it was there or not.
She’d hit her limit. If she hung out here much longer, she’d be fighting an anxiety attack, even now her chest ached with tension. She disappeared down the dark hallway toward her room. Emily pulled the crochet blanket she made off her bed and around her shoulders. She slipped past the intoxicated DEA agents and out the back door, grabbing Javier’s bottle of whiskey on her way out. The door shut behind her and all was right in the world.
“We have to stop meeting like this.”
The whiskey bottle hit the group. She jumped to avoid getting her toes smashed. “Fuck. You gotta stop scaring the shit out of me, Javier.”
“How else am I supposed to let you know I’m out here?”
Emily rolled her eyes as she felt around for the bottle. Her fingers connected with the cool glass. It was surprisingly still intact.
She walked over to Javier. A cigarette glowed between his fingers. “Careful with my whiskey.”
He sat on the bench swing, her spot. It was big enough for two, but just two. If she sat, their shoulders would touch, probably their legs too.
“Y’all’s patio furniture is more comfortable than ours. This one has a cushion for my ass.” He wiggled in his seat for emphasis. “I gotta get me some of these.”
Emily plucked the cigarette from his grasp. She savored the pull before handing it back to Javier.
“Please help yourself.”
“You were going to offer anyway.”
“Would be rude not to.”
Emily twisted the top off the whiskey. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a long sip.
Javier’s eyes widened, the moonlight flickered off of them as he did. “I was going to say that you look like you’re doing well.”
She removed her lips with a pop. The whiskey sloshed within the glass bottle. “You look like shit.”
“Would you like a glass?”
“No need to dirty a cup.” Her lips ticked upward.
He shook his head, putting the cigarette between his lips. She tipped the bottle back again.
“Might wanna slow down there. It’s a school night.”
Emily stopped. She cocked her head to the side and just looked at Javier. So much of the time, she felt like a newborn foal, timid and shaky on its legs. Something else was growing inside her. She felt like an untamed horse, wild and reckless, stomping down fear and anxiety. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe frustrations outran her anxiety for once. She did something that terrified her. She plopped herself down on the bench swing next to Javier.
Their shoulders brushed and she let them, separated by the thick crochet blanket hanging around her shoulders. It helped. She crossed her legs so they didn't touch him. Javier looked at her. She kept her eyes straight ahead.
“Why aren’t you celebrating?” She pulled the bottle back to her lips.
“I am.”
“No.” Emily looked at him. “You’re sulking.”
Javier sighed. He grabbed the whiskey bottle from Emily’s hands. He drank from the bottle looking at her the whole time.
“Thought it would feel different…” He handed the bottle back to her. “But people are still dead. Nothing is going to change that.” He closed his eyes, pictures flashing behind his eyelids. So many people. He ran a hand through his hair. Some he’d been responsible for, people he knew.
“I don’t think true justice exists…” She picked at the whiskey label. “He would’ve died thousands of deaths in all the ways he ordered it. He’d know all the pain and grief and trauma and all of its intricacies that he’s responsible for inflicting.”
Emily lifted the bottle. Javier stopped her. He took it and set it on the ground. She stared at her empty hands
“Do you wish He was dead?”
They were no longer talking about Escobar.
“Sometimes I think it would help. I always hear he was brought to justice. He’s going to rot in prison for what he did.” Her hands shook. She clenched them. “But not for kidnapping, or abuse, or rape-” Her eyes turned glassy.
Javier sucked in. He’d assumed. It wasn’t a stretch by any means, but hearing it struck something deep down.
“It’s okay that my story isn’t known. I prefer it that way, and I know there’s a slim chance he’d actually be convicted of anything he did to me, but there’s not a lot of closure because of it.”
“I think closure is a scam because if this is it, it sucks.” Javier picked the bottle back up. He gave it to her first.
She thanked him as she tipped it back. “If you want to get real existential about it, they’re all just made-up concepts: justice, closure, and all their friends.”
He took the liquor. “That hurts my head.”
Emily laughed. “I know.”
Cicadas sang around them. Emily picked up on the faint sound of laughter inside the house.
“How-” Javier stopped himself. It wasn’t his place to ask.
“Hmmm?”
“Nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Emily bit her lip. “Were you going to ask how it happened?”
Javier looked away. He felt bad for bringing it up.
“It’s okay… It piques curiosity.”
“It seems like something you don’t like to talk about.”
She took a deep breath. “I was 15. My mom took us on vacation to Mexico. We stayed in the hotel He owned. My mother was all too thrilled when the rich hotel owner started taking a liking to me, and I-” her voice quivered. She picked at her jeans. “I was too young to know any better.”
She slid her palm in a long single motion down her thigh. Javier could only imagine the pictures running through her mind.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
She shook her head. Her motions continued. She was quickly drifting away from this. Her breathing quickened.
“Give me your hand.” He held out his hand.
She stilled, staring at it like it was a grenade. She could feel the warmth from it, but he didn’t touch her. Her lungs trapped the air in her chest. He looked at her for permission. She managed the briefest nod and extended her hand.
His thumbs dug into her palm. It almost hurt, but not quite. It brought her off the edge saving her from falling into a cloud of memories.
He lowered their hands just above her knee. His fingers edged over her jeans. He could feel her muscles move and twitch beneath him. He gently increased the pressure. Her knee stopped bouncing. Her shoulders dropped, and her lungs released.
His thumb moved back and forth with long, firm strokes. It grounded her, made her feel less detached from the world, and chased the panic away.
Javier’s eyes were still trained on her. She looked at him. The words came out quiet. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Feel better?”
Every voice in her head screamed and fought, but her body relaxed. “Yeah.”
He didn’t move his hand, and she didn’t want him to. They stared up at the December sky. Javier slowly eased his motions until his fingers stilled against her jeans. The whiskey hummed through her body, making everything feel warm around her.
She tilted her head to the side. “How is it that you know exactly how to handle me?”
“Handle you?” Javier’s lips ticked upward.
“You know what I mean.”
He took a moment to contemplate his answer. His forefinger thumped against her kneecap. Emily watched it. She still couldn’t believe her body allowed this to happen. She felt a little less broken.
“I know we went through different things, but-” He stopped. They locked eyes. “People should make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m never okay, Javier.”
“I know.”
“Neither are you.”
He looked back at the stars. His Adam's apple bobbed. His hand disappeared from her knee leaving a rush of cold in its wake.
“I’m not a good person.”
“So you’ve said.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“You know what I think.”
“My family thinks I’m this big hero.”
“Do you want to be a hero?” Emily wrapped the thick blanket tighter around herself. She shifted and their contact lessened.
Javier bit his lip. “I want to do things the right way.”
“You want to go back.”
“I don’t know.”
“I can see it. You’re already thinking about who’s going to pick up where Escobar left off.”
Javier bristled. “And what are you thinking about?” It came out a little shorter than he wanted it to.
Emily took it in stride. “Right now, I’m thinking that I can still hear everyone in the house which means no one is missing us, but nobody’s left. I know that Mateo is sound asleep in his bed. That I should probably go check on him. Not because I think there’s anything wrong, but because there’s this all-consuming need to lay eyes on him so that I can assure myself everything is right. Ale and Miguelito are gone for the night. They’re with people I trust implicitly, but I’m still expecting the phone to ring and say something has happened.”
Javier bit his lip.
“On a normal day, I’m wondering if Felix will get out and try to get us back. I’m not that far from the border, or will it be someone coming after us because they don’t want a child of His posing a threat.” The words tumbled out in growing succession. “Or maybe they’ll get bored and do it just for fun. Maybe it’s all irrational because we’ve been here for so long, and many of the people who know about us are dead, but what if someone has kept tabs on us all this time? What if I can’t get better? What if I get worse and I can’t be there for my kids? How can I be a good mother when I don't even feel like a whole-”
He reached for her knee again. Emily smacked it away. “Just because you’ve touched me once doesn’t mean you can do it again, Javier Peña.” She sprung off the seat, her chest heaving. Wildness burned in her eyes. It was getting harder to pull air in.
“Shit.” She sank to the ground. Her chest ached as she struggled to breathe. She pulled the blanket tight for pressure as she curled into a ball. Her eyes squeezed shut as she focused on her breathing. It wasn’t getting any easier.
Javier was trained to handle crises to operate under pressure, but he froze. His hands were useless. His feet carried him through the backdoor.
Anna was in the kitchen drying dishes. “Javier? I didn’t know you were still here.”
“Umm.” He pointed haphazardly toward the backyard. Why was he out of breath?
“What’s wrong?” Anna set the dishes down.
His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth, unable to form shapes and sounds. Laughter roared like a freight train from the living room.
“Javier,” Anna said firmly. It snapped through the fog.
“Emily.”
Anna’s eyes darted toward the door. “Shit..” She moved instantly. “Panic attack?”
“I-” was that what it was? How was he supposed to know what a panic attack looked like? “I think-”
Anna was already out the door. He followed her tracks.
He watched as Anna kneeled beside her. He couldn’t hear what she said in Emily’s ear. She didn’t move. Anna rubbed her hands over Emily’s back. Javier lost track of how long he watched. She eventually rested her head on Anna's lap. He imagined the tears on her cheeks, but he knew they were there.
He’d done that. He’d pushed her.
Guilt settled on his shoulders. Just another weight to carry.
Javier slipped out the back gate
#javier peña#narcos#Pedro Pascal#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña x ofc#narcos fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier pena fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction#scathed
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