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fairysluna · 1 year

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truly yours.

After finding out about your brother’s betrothal, you realized you might lose him forever, so he finds himself trying to convince you otherwise.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

TAGS – targcest (brother/sister), a bit of angst, fluff at the end, and smut (loss of virginity, p in v, oral sex —female receiving—, fingering, praise.)

AUTHOR’S NOTE – third repost. this is my very first smut in English, so pls consider this before reading bc it might not be perfect lmao. Enjoy!!🤍

WORD COUNT – 3.9k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

Hearing those words was enough to make you frown. Your eyes instinctively went to Aemond, who was looking down at the floor, trying his best to ignore your haze. He knew that he could not bear your saddened eyes filled with threatening tears that were eager to escape. It hurted you so badly, making you feel a hole in the place where your heart is supposed to be.

You looked down, seeing the tears falling onto your hands, and that is when you decided it was enough. Everyone’s eyes followed you to the exit of the Council Room, but no one even bothered to ask you what was wrong. They kept talking about the war that was yet to come, while planning on selling you and Aemond in order to form alliances that would make all of you victorious.

You were walking towards your room, a guard was following your trail. Small sobs were escaping from your lips when you heard fastened steps approaching you. At first, you did not seem interested in knowing who was getting closer, too busy thinking about your own misery to even care about something else. That was until you heard his voice, a bit agitated due to the fast pace,

“We need to talk,” He said behind you. You and your guard turned at the same time only to find the one-eyed prince looking worryingly at your frame.

His eyes softened once he saw your puffy eyes and wet face. You use your own hand to wipe off the tears that were drying on your cheeks. Then, you lifted your chin in a failed attempt at trying to look less broken.

“I don’t think we need to talk about anything, really.” Your voice sounded weak, Aemond tilted his head, begging for a minute alone with you.

“Leave us.” He ordered the guard beside you, who made a slight bow before walking towards an unknown direction.

“I told you, Aemond.” You sighed, “There’s nothing to talk about. The decision has already been made.” You shrugged, trying to downplay the situation. Trying to pretend you did not care. “Congratulations on your betrothal, brother. I wish you nothing but happiness.”

You turned around in order to keep walking towards your chambers, but his big hand grabbed your wrist and forced you to look at him once again, pinning you against the cobblestone wall behind you and stealing a gasp of surprise from you. You looked up to him again, tears starting to fall down your cheeks.

“Let me go.” You squirmed under his touch.

“No.” He replied, his tone was monotone while his free hand cupped your face. “You’re going to listen.”

You scoffed. “And what do you have to say?” The mixture between sadness and anger was clear in your voice, making Aemond clenched his jaw. “Go on. Let me hear it.”

“I did not wish for this, y/n. I swear it.” He muttered, breathing deeply. “I tried to convince mother about other ways of persuasion, but she refused.”

“How could you?” You pushed him with your free hand, making him totter in his position.

“How could I?”

“How could you do this to me? To me!” You raised your voice, feeling your throat getting tighter with the nod that was forming in it. “You told me you were mine! You told me you loved me!”

“Do you think I was lying?” He spoke harshly.

“You are getting married!”

“Because it is what I have to do. It’s my duty.” He snapped, “Do you really think that if they would’ve let me choose, I wouldn’t have chosen you?” You kept quiet, taking a deep breath to not sob. “It doesn’t matter if I’m married or not, you will always be the only woman I love.”

You shook your head, and he frowned.

“You don’t believe me?” He asked, leaning back a few inches, and loosening his grip on your wrist.

You looked down at the floor and started crying, completely heartbroken. Aemond only managed on holding you between his comforting arms, caressing your hair and whispering sweet words to your ear.

“She is going to bear your children.” You said, shakingly. “She is going to raise them, she is going to give you a family, Aemond.” You held on to his clothes with a firm grip, closing your eyes and breathing his scent. “You will end up loving her more than you have ever loved me. There’s no point in denying that.”

He forced you to look at him, wiping your tears and cupping your face delicately. He touched your lips with his thumb, looking at them for a second before turning back to your eyes. Aemond then pushed his lips against yours, a gesture that felt so soft and fragile, almost as if he was scared of breaking you. A deep breath left your lungs once you felt his touch, tasting the flavor of your salty tears on his lips.

When he stepped back, you followed him with your glistening stare. Looking so enamored by him, so devoted.

“You will always be the only woman I love.” He repeated, in a whisper against your lips.

“Prove it.”

“How?” He asked confused.

“Take my maidenhead.” Aemond widened his eyes, a bit surprised by your suggestion. “You’ve always told me that we should wait until we marry, but now we will not be able to do that.”

“I can’t, my love.”

“There is no point in keep waiting for something that will not happen.”

“I can’t do it.” He looked at you, his haze was soft and his frown a bit wrinkled. “I can’t ruin you.”

“You won’t ruin me. You are the one I trust the most.” You held his hand and squeezed it tight. “I need you to be my first. I need you to prove to me your love.” You begged. “Please, Aemond. I need you.”

He took a step back, setting you free of his grip. You looked at him confused, while he tried to look everywhere but you. Aemond muttered something you could not understand, and then he left. He left you in the middle of the hallway, alone and hurt. You could not do anything but to start sobbing quietly, covering your mouth with your hand so no one would hear you. The hole in your chest soon came back with an excruciating feeling inside you.

Your eyes were still wandering across the hallway, in the same direction where Aemond left. Begging in silence for him to return. But he never did.

A couple hours later, when night fell on King’s Landing, you were brushing your hair in your chambers, already wearing nothing but a thin silky nightgown. You were standing in front of a mirror, in silence. The only thing that was producing a sound was the soft wind moving your curtains and the night birds outside. It was a peaceful night, but you were far from feeling part of that peace.

A knock on your door made you turn around to face it. You did not say anything and still someone entered without your permission. The light of the candles illuminated the tall and thin frame of Aemond, who stood in the entrance of your room while the guard outside closed the door behind him. The two of you stayed in silence, but your breathing was starting to fasten with his mere presence, and the hairbrush on your hand suddenly became the most interesting thing to look at.

“What are you doing here?” You managed to ask.

He did not respond. He just took one step closer to the sofa in front of him, taking off his jacket and staying only with his white shirt. You felt nervousness running up and down your body, not being sure of what his intentions were.

“I asked you something,” You said, this time more loudly and clearly.

Again, he did not answer. He took a couple steps more, getting closer to you. Now he took his shirt off, and that was enough to make you hold your breath. Your legs started to feel unstable once you looked at his naked torso getting closer and closer to you.

“Aemond, what are you doing?” You asked again.

Not a word was said again, and this time he grabbed your face and kissed you. It was different from any other kiss you have ever shared; it was intense, a bit desperate perhaps. Soon, the hairbrush on your hand dropped to the floor, and your hands looked for support on his strong shoulders while he was taking your breath away.

You gasped when his big hands cupped your arse and squeezed it tight. He took advantage of that to sneak his tongue inside your mouth, swirling it against yours. You could feel his sweet taste, and soon you got drunk by it. It was intoxicating, your body was starting to ask more of him, more of his touch.

His hands started to wrinkle your nightgown, pulling it up. He turned you around and his lips started to devour the skin on your neck. You looked up, only to find your reflection in the mirror. Aemond’s hands soon find the strips of your gown, and he pulls them down revealing your breasts. Your eyes fluttered while your cheeks turned red, a bit embarrassed of being fully naked in front of him. You tried to look away from yourself, but Aemond grabbed your jaw and forced you to do so.

“Don’t look away, love.” He whispered against your skin, his soft voice causing tickles on your neck that made you squirm under his touch. “I want you to see how much I love you with your own eyes.”

His hands let the piece of fabric go, now leaving you fully naked in front of him and the mirror. You crossed your legs, and the pressure made you sigh. You felt the coldness hardening your nipples, soon Aemond hands grabbed them; playing with your soft knobs, twisting them between his fingers all while he was sucking on your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin and sweet words on your ear.

Your eyes were close, so you did not realize the moment when one of his curious hands reached your core, forcing you to stop crossing your legs. You took a deep, shaky breath when you felt his cold fingers wandering between your folds, spreading your slick and feeling how wet you were. He hummed against your skin, making you shiver and lose your mind.

Two of his fingers found your clit, and he did not wait to start rubbing them against it. Your eyes opened from the impression of the new sensation and you moaned a bit too loud. Aemond smiled at himself, looking through the mirror how you would arch your back, rubbing your arse against his growing length, all by his mere touch.

“Aemond…” You find yourself moaning his name, desperate to feel more about him. “Please.”

He hummed in response, smirking at you. “What do you want?” He said, softly.

But you did not know the answer to that. Your body was aching for something unbeknownst for you.

“I need you.” The words came out by themselves, you did not even think about them before saying. It was as if your body was talking without your mind’s consent.

One of his fingers teased your slit, going back and forward from your clit to your entrance. You opened your mouth gasping for air. He started to slowly push his long finger inside you, making you moan loudly, too loudly perhaps. He growled once he felt your warmth around his digits, dreaming about how you would feel around his cock.

“Mhm…” He moaned while moving his finger slowly, in and out, feeling you already clenching. “You take me so well, my love.”

Your eyes looked at the mirror and focused on his hands, one was grabbing your breast, playing and pinching your nipple, while the other was moving fastly inside you. The obscene sound of your juices coating his fingers was making you even more wet, the sound of his humming and his praise was sending you over the edge, but it wasn’t until he put another finger inside you that you felt your stomach tightening, and your walls started to clenched around him.

“I feel how close you are.” Aemond whispered, looking at your eyes through the mirror and making you feel weak. “Are you going to cum around my fingers?” You nodded desperately, he smirked.

“Aemond, I- please!” You whined, feeling so close to release.

He started to move faster, your thighs were moving along with his hand. His palm was rubbing your swollen clit while his fingers curled inside you, abusing your walls and touching that sweet spot that made you shake. The sudden and overwhelming pleasure washed over your body, forcing you to close your eyes tightly and open your mouth to let go a whimper.

“That’s it, my sweet girl.” He praised you, starting to slow down his movements while you kept moaning softly. “Well done.”

Your legs twitched a little, still affected by your climax. He started kissing your neck.

“Look at you, my love.” Aemond muttered, looking at your body. “Look how beautiful you look right now.”

You managed to see beyond your own pleasure, distinguishing your body. Your eyes were teary, your cheeks were red and your lips swollen. You perceived some reddish marks on your neck. You did look beautiful.

“I love you.” He said, caressing your soft skin with his free hand. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Aemond pulled out his fingers, which were glistening with your orgasm. You complained due to the absence of him inside, but he did not give too much time before starting to devour your lips again. His tongue now was shamelessly licking your lips, making you open your mouth to receive him. You hummed in response, and he grabbed your tights in order to carry you towards your bed.

You felt his hardened length and unconsciously you started rubbing against him, leaving a wet spot on his pants. Aemond just chuckled at your desperation, so eager for him.

“You want me so bad, do you?”

You nodded, “Yes, Aemond, please.”

“Steps by steps, my love.” He dropped you carefully onto the mattress, watching your body on display so beautifully. Your legs were open, showing him all of you without being ashamed anymore. He clicked his tongue and saw how you were clenching around nothing. “I need to taste you first.”

His words confused you at first, but he kneeled on the floor beside the bed, pulling you by your legs and getting closer to your core. You then understood what he meant, and a hot feeling ran over your body making you feel flustered with everything. He blows on you, making you twitch and whine. He smiled, you were so sensitive already, and you have not even got to the best part yet.

He teases you a bit, getting so close to your core but not touching you yet. You felt his warm breath against your folds, making you whine and move your hips upwards in a desperate attempt to get his touch. He would just lean back, wanting you to wait. He smelled your sweetness, and he looked at you with hungry eyes. He was drooling for you, and once he lost control he could not gain it back.

A big cry escaped from your mouth once he sank himself between your legs, finding glory and paradise in it. His tongue sucked your clit harshly making you close his eyes and grabbed whatever was closer to your reach; his head. Your grip was firm, but not enough to pull his silver hair, you were still being careful, not wanting to hurt him.

Soon you turned into a moaning mess, moving your hips against his face. His nose was pressed on your clit, while his tongue was going in and out of your entrance. You could not even think about anything in that moment, just in the pleaser that he was giving you.

“Fuck, Aemond!” You said, feeling so overstimulated already. Feeling a hundred sensations already making you insane. You never thought it would feel this good.

He stepped away, clicking his tongue and savoring your flavor in his mouth. He softly smiles after seeing what he has done so far, noticing how your chest would move fast and how warm your skin felt. He stood up, and he finally put down his pants, releasing his hardened cock. You saw how glistening and red was the head, already dripping. His size was making you drool, you had to bite your lip to not moan over the view.

He hovered over you, covering you entirely with his body, and you felt his tip smacking against your belly. Then, he kissed you once more, holding your legs on each side of his hips and positioning himself between them. You felt your own taste on his tongue, it was sweet.

“You asked me to do this,” He said, holding his weight with his arms. “But I need to be sure this is truly what you desire.”

Your eyes flustered, and the only thing that you managed to do was take the eye patch off of his face. Immediately, Aemond looked down, now he was embarrassed of being seen without it, but you were quick enough to grab his chin and looked at his eye. The haze that you gave him, filled with love and adoration, made him feel odd but good.

“Please, my love. I want me to be truly yours.” You said. “And I want you to be truly mine.”

Aemond sighed out of love, and he grabbed both of your hands with one of his, while the other made his tip rub against your folds. You gasped at the sensation, but you cried out once he started to make his way inside you. It was painful, but luckily he was slow, taking his time and getting you used to his size.

“Oh, gods.” You moaned, leaning your head back and twitching your hips.

“Sh, sh.” He said, “It’ll pass, my love. You’re taking me so well.”

You bite your lip, feeling him getting deeper and deeper, stretching you out. He groaned, feeling you so tight around him, giving such a delicious pleasure. He had to held back multiple times.

With one single thrust he was completely inside you. You gasped when you finally felt him fully, he stayed still, not wanting to move yet no matter how hard his body was asking him to do it. Aemond took his hand and moved it down your body until reaching your abused clit. You hissed when he started to play with it, twirling his fingers around him. He moaned softly once you squeezed him.

“Please…” You cried, your eyes already tearing up. “Please, please. Move.”

He obeyed you, not being able to resist your whiny pleas. He moved slowly, in and out at a tortuous pace that was driving you both mad. The pain was still there, that pinching uncomfort that made hissed on more than one occasion, but the stimulation on your clit was enough to make it bearable.

“Fuck, love. You feel so good.” He whimpered against your lips before kissing you slowly but passionately.

You started to moan on his lips once his thrust became harder. Your breasts started moving along with the movements of his hips, and you both became drunk in pleasure.

Soon the whole room was filled with your moans. Aemond was touching you like a starved man, kissing you and licking you all over your body. He was claiming you as his, as it has always been. You just let yourself go with all the lust your body was receiving, every thrust was numbing your mind and weakening your senses. You were now so gone in your own pleasure that it was difficult to even pronounce his name.

His lips took your nipple and your eyes closed. He kept fucking you, every thrust became harder than the prior, he was started to get loud and you were enjoying those sweet sound. Now only you get to hear them, to drool over them.

“I’m always going to be yours.” He spoke, his voice so much deeper and lower than usual. You almost cum right there on the spot after hearing him. “Always.”

He took your legs and put them on his shoulders, and now you were starting to get louder. He was hitting that sweet spot that made your back arch and your eyes roll back. The bed was shrieking under your bodies, but you were completely gone to even hear beyond your own moans. Aemond was mesmerized looking down at you, and he could not wait any longer without filling you up.

“Come on, my sweet girl.” He said, “Don’t you want to cum?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please!” You whined, breathing louder and faster. You soon started to feel your stomach tightening, you started to clench around his twitching cock. Already familiarized with the feeling, you knew you were about to cum. “Fuck- Aemond, please.”

“Go on. Cum.” Aemond commanded, putting his hand around her throat and squeezing it just a bit. “Make a mess on my cock.”

His filthy words stimulated you enough to reach your climax and cry out his name. Aemond hissed at the sight of your release wetting his abdomen, gawking over the sight.

“Just right there, love.” He moaned, “You are doing it so well.”

Tears start to stream down your face over the stimulation of his thrusts. He was searching for his own release now, so his hips started to move faster and harder, until he finally filled you up with his cum. You twitched due to the sensation, feeling oddly good and relaxed, while Aemond kept moving, trying to keep his seed deep buried inside you.

He hummed once he pulled out, and he laid on your side, holding you tight and kissing your cheek while trying to calm down. There was a moment of silence, and then he spoke,

“Don’t you ever put in doubt how much I love you.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, “I’m just afraid of losing you. I can’t make it without you, we both know it.”

“That’s why we must always be together.” Aemond covered your bodies with a thin sheet, “And that’s why I won’t marry the Baratheon girl.”

You looked at him over your shoulder, surprised and confused. He only chuckled at your reaction and kissed the corner of your lip.

“We will find other ways to make allies.” He assured you. “But a betrothal is not an option, I’m already betrothed.”

Once again, you frowned, confused, so you asked. “To whom?”

He kisses you softly, it was a big contrast of what you have done prior to that kiss, but it felt so comforting and nice. It was a gesture filled with love and adoration towards each other. When you parted, he looked at your eyes and said,

“To you, of course.”

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

GENERAL TAG LIST – @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen

AEMOND TAG LIST – @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @ganymede-princess @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months

Text

Deathless Death

Pairing: Osferth x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Religious guilt. Smut. Fingering. Slight exhibitionism. Oral (f receiving). Gratuitous Hozier references. Word count: 3.5k

Summary: When a young woman's father is killed following Skade's attack on the priests of Alton, Osferth agrees to take responsibility for her, feeling a need to protect a fellow Christian. However, the longer they travel together the deeper they have each other questioning their faith. Based on this request. Series masterlist.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The Lord works in mysterious ways. This is a belief that Osferth has always clung firmly to, it is the only way he can justify his existence; the result of a union between a serving girl and a deeply religious king who, so embarrassed by his extramarital indiscretion, had ensured that Osferth was enrolled as a novice monk as soon as he was old enough, and refused to ever acknowledge him as his son.

Osferth is a bastard, yet he must have a purpose, for God does not give life without intent. He feels he has found his reason for being when he crosses paths with Uhtred, a man his uncle, Leofric, had always spoken kindly of. He offers to serve Uhtred as a warrior, though he has no fighting experience. This is the divine path chosen for him, he is certain of it. He clutches the hilt of his sword as tightly as he often grips the cross that sits around his neck in times of anguish, and does his best to be brave in spite of how afraid he feels.

Reluctantly he learns the ways of ale and women, surprised when the Lord does not smite him down for his sins. He surmises that he has misinterpreted the teachings of the Holy Book; a life of piety does not have to mean an existence endured in abstinence. Though his faith in God never once falters, he grows to enjoy, and even seek out, the pleasures he’d once mistaken for temptations. They are not a means for him to stray from the light, but another outlet in which he can revere it and give thanks.

It is not until he reaches the village of Alton with Uhtred and his men that he discovers the true purpose of the journey he has embarked upon. A group of Danes with a seeress named Skade in their midst has attacked the village, killing all of its holy men.

That is where he finds her. Such a fragile looking thing, sobbing her heart out while huddled behind a vegetable cart, clutching her cross in much the same way he used to do with his.

“Don’t be afraid.” He reassures her calmly, crouching so his face is level with hers.

“Are you an angel?” She asks tearfully, her eyes wide and imploring.

Osferth cannot help but smile at that. For you I’d like to be.

With gentle persuasion, Uhtred agrees to allow Osferth to bring the girl along, provided he is responsible for her. He is all too happy to agree to that. Her mother is long dead and the attack on Alton has killed her father, she has no one else. He was meant to meet her, he feels it in his heart.

Naturally, she is fearful of the others, her only prior encounter with heathens had ended in the death of her only living relative and left her all alone in the world. She clings to Osferth, but he does not mind it. He sees a lot of himself in her, how scared he’d been when he’d first left the monastery to accompany Uhtred. But if she is anything like him, she is resilient and she will pull through this.

As the weeks pass, her face becomes less marred by fear and grief. She is beautiful, Osferth realises. He has been grateful to have someone to bow his head in prayer with, however, the way that she snuggles next to him for warmth in front of the campfire, how closely she leans back against his chest as they ride together and the proximity in which she lays her bed roll next to his no longer feel so innocent, at least not to him.

He feels ashamed for harbouring such illicit thoughts about her. Her piety makes him feel like he is the worst kind of sinner. She does not partake in ale and stays quiet when the rest of the group share lewd jokes. Where her prayers are earnest and heartfelt, his feel flimsy and disingenuous. He would renounce the Lord and worship her instead if she asked it of him. The idea makes his stones ache. When she shivers and huddles to him for warmth it occurs to him that he’d burn everything in his path if only for her to never feel cold again.

Guilt blooms heavily in his chest at the thoughts and feelings she elicits from him, especially when she looks at him, her eyes are always filled with gratitude and adoration. He has grown to crave her gaze, despite the fact that she will never view him as anything more than a protector.

When it becomes too much for him to bear, he seeks the comfort of the nearest brothel. With each thrust into the whore beneath him, he imagines her face, how those hands that fold so delicately in prayer would feel clinging to his shoulders, how soft and supple her flesh would be against the wiry hardness of his own. When he reaches his peak, picturing her, he comes harder than he ever has before in his life. It feels like he has died and approached the very gates of Heaven.

If that is how it feels merely to think about her, he wonders what it would be like to actually be inside of her. It would surely feel holy and sacred, a pleasure not meant for mere mortals. For the second time that night he craves her, and so he seeks out another woman offering her services in the pleasure house.

He pays them well, and he is not unkind to them. He is convinced that that is why they fight over him the next day. He is mortified, especially when he sees that she is watching. She will think him godless, sinful. He hopes that the Lord is merciful and does not intend for her to leave him. He sends a silent prayer of thanks when she remains by his side in the days that follow.

It is not until Uhtred, Sihtric and Finan pay a visit to Alfred, and leave Osferth and her back at camp that he realises they’ve never truly been alone together. He shifts uncomfortably on the log he sits upon, glancing up from the flames of the fire every so often at her, unsure of what to say. She eyes him curiously the entire time, the warmth from the fire and the sunny afternoon meaning she does not snuggle to him as she usually would. Secretly he is disappointed.

“Do you still believe in God?” She asks quietly.

Her gaze is timid and as Osferth turns to meet her eye, she looks to her lap as though ashamed to have asked.

“Of course I do, my lady,” He replies softly, smiling at her. He wants more than anything for her to look at him again, there is something reverent in the way she regards him that makes his chest swell and his cock twitch. He could die happily with a single glance his way from her. “My faith has never waivered.”

“You are not as devout as the people from back home.” Her fingers pinch and stroke over the fabric of her skirt as she says this, not looking up at him as he sits across from her.

“I used to be,” He admits with a slight shrug, wondering if she thinks less of him for his perceived lack of faith. “I suppose travelling with Uhtred has taught me that faith does not mean deprivation. The Lord made life for living.”

She nods, her voice barely above a whisper, as her eyes flicker to his. “Is that why you visit brothels, and why those women fight over you?”

He feels his cheeks heat up as she asks this, and suddenly it’s his turn to look away, embarrassed. He takes a moment to consider his reply, not wanting to sully her innocence with vulgarity, or say anything that might frighten her. “I was celibate when I was a monk…” He begins awkwardly. “I’m not anymore. Truthfully, partaking in the pleasures of the flesh feels like the closest experience to meeting God without dying.”

He knows he has turned pink all the way to the tips of his ears by the time he finishes speaking, he cannot bear to look at her for fear of what he might see in her eyes. She must think he is utterly depraved.

The moment of silence between them hangs thick and uncomfortable before she finally breaks it. “If that is why you are fought over…then I am eager to find out for myself.”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide, stunned and unsure of if he has heard correctly, it seems too forward a statement for such a pious little thing like her. However, her stare is steady and unwavering as it meets his, causing his breath to hitch. He hadn’t misheard her and she meant every word.

The cracking of a twig causes them to finally look away from each other, as they turn to see the others returning. He has never been displeased to see any of them before, but can’t help but wish they’d left it a little longer to come back.

Her words play on a loop in Osferth’s thoughts. I am eager to find out for myself. He frantically strokes himself to release that night, once more plagued by visions of her, the silkiness of her hair, her scent, the dulcet tone of her giggle. There is no sweeter innocence in his mind than the gentle sin that he shares with her.

There is a storm the following evening. Though they are camped beneath a thatch of trees, protected from the worst of the downpour, it does little to block out the boom of the thunder and the crackle of lightning. She whimpers at every crash, clearly frightened, and Osferth’s heart aches for her. He’d do anything to make sure the expression of fear and sadness she wore for the first few weeks they traveled together never returns.

He pulls her tight to him, wrapping the furs around them both as they sit around the fire with the others. They don’t bat an eye at the familiarity between the two, understanding of the fact that she finds comfort in a fellow Christian’s presence and that Osferth is simply offering kindness to someone in need of it.

She melts into his embrace and he allows his hands to wander over her beneath the furs, tracing the curves of her through her dress. He has never dared to touch her like this before and she looks up at him questioningly, though makes no move to stop him.

Emboldened by her silent consent, he strokes her hair with his free hand, while allowing the other to push up her skirt. She gasps at this and buries her face in his chest. He holds her tighter while Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric continue their conversation, all assuming she is just startled by the storm that rages above them.

Her inner thighs are velvety smooth as his fingertips trace over the flesh of them. Not even angel’s wings feel as divine as this, he thinks. As the pads of his digits make contact with the gusset of her smallclothes he draws in a shaky inhale at finding that it is damp with her arousal. It darkens the desire within him to have confirmation that she is just as affected by him as he is by her, and he pushes her underclothes to the side, stroking through the slickness of her folds.

She shudders against him, her breathing growing heavier and he quietly shushes her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. He looks up to see Finan give him a sympathetic smile, clearly assuming Osferth is comforting her, before he is distracted by Uhtred swatting him softly with the back of his hand in order to gain back his attention.

Osferth looks back down at her, she is peeking up at him from where her head rests against his chest and in the flicker of the firelight he can see that her pupils are wide with lust. It is a look he has seen on the faces of many of the women within the pleasure houses he’s visited over the years. To see it burning bright within the eyes of someone so pure is enough to drive him to madness with the desire it awakens within him.

Shielded from view beneath the furs, he circles her pearl with precision, silently delighting in the way she clutches at his robes and bucks slightly up at his hand. He feels she’s growing close when her body tenses against his and she stares up at him, worry evident in how her brows pinch together. Poor thing has never peaked before.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, coaxing her to let go.

He cradles her head to his chest as she trembles and gasps against him, before finally going limp. Osferth withdraws his hand, allowing her to slump sleepily against him, smiling softly down at her as her eyes drift closed.

He knows in that moment that she will be both his salvation and his damnation, and he welcomes both with open arms.

It is another week before they are left alone together, and life carries on as normal. They do not speak of what happened beneath the furs on the night of the storm, despite the fact that it’s all Osferth can think about.

The others head away from camp one evening to scout the locations of a possible attack from the Danes. It is too dangerous for her to come along, so Osferth remains behind so she is not left alone. This time she seats herself next to him, and he feels his mouth run dry, heart hammering in his chest as he struggles to think of what to say to her.

He startles when she places her hand on his. “You are right,” She says with a shy smile. “It felt…like something divine…when you touched me.”

Osferth swallows thickly. “You liked it?” He asks, already knowing the answer, but desperate to hear her say it.

She nods, chewing her lip nervously. “I did. Does that make me a sinner?”

His eyes widen in mild horror that she could ever consider herself such. “No, that is something you could never be.”

“I am not repentant though,” She muses, her eyes slowly meeting his. “I have thought of nothing else.”

“That is only natural.” He tells her, suddenly aware of how close their faces are, noses almost brushing. His gaze flits to her lips momentarily. Osferth has never kissed a woman before, though he has fucked plenty; the ones he exchanges coin with do not allow such intimate gestures. He desperately wants to kiss her though.

He is surprised by her boldness when she leans in first. It is a quick peck to his lips, which she rapidly withdraws from, looking sheepish. He cups her cheek, coaxing her back and presses his mouth to hers with more pressure. She softens against the movement and for a moment it feels as though time has stopped for Osferth. There is only her. It is a kiss riddled with youthful inexperience and yet he does not think there has ever been anything better.

“Will you…” She mutters against his lips, clearly uneasy with attempting to ask for what she wants.

“Touch you?” He finishes for her.

“Yes,” She whispers, “I want to feel…” She places a hand over her face, giggling. “I have never laid with a man before. I do not know what to ask for.”

“It’s okay.” He reassures her. “I understand.” Osferth coaxes her to sit on his lap as she had the night of the storm, only this time there are no furs to cover them, and he rucks her skirt up around her hips, rather than slipping his hand beneath it.

“Take these off for me.” He says, plucking at her smallclothes.

She does as he instructs and he pulls her tight against him, her back flush with his chest as his arm snakes around her waist, dipping his hand between her legs. She is wet already and he cannot help the groan that escapes him as his fingers make contact with her core.

He circles her bud slowly and she clamps her mouth shut, cutting off the mewl that threatens to spill forth.

“You don’t have to be quiet this time.” He tells her, as she turns her face into his neck, her breath coming in hot puffs against his skin.

Tentatively he dips a finger into her entrance, conscious of the fact that she has never had anything inside of her before - the thought that he is the first makes him swell painfully hard against her rear as it presses back into his lap. Her grip on his digit as he inserts it is vice-like and he wonders how she’d feel squeezing around the length of him, if she ever allows him to take things that far.

He sets a steady rhythm of dragging his finger against a rough patch inside of her that causes sounds that are prettier than any of the songs he’s heard at æfensang to spill forth from her, while circling her pearl with his thumb.

She squirms against him, her arm reaching above and behind her to wrap around his neck, her fingers scrabble desperately at the back of his robes. Her jaw is slack, her eyes glassy and Osferth believes that if the Heavens could speak then her wanton cries of pleasure would be their mouthpiece.

She falls apart with a violent shudder, clenching ceaselessly around his finger and he withdraws it slowly as she begins to calm, continuing to hold her close. Though he is pleased to have brought her to peak, he feels disappointed that the moment is over so soon. He wants, needs, longer to enjoy her.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers to her, pressing his face to her hair. “Will you allow me to taste you?”

“Taste me?” She asks, confusion etched across her pretty features. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I will show you.” He tells her, ushering her off of him and laying down. “Come here.”

There is no question in Osferth’s mind that he would ever allow her to lay upon the ground, she is too good for that. He will gladly let her sit atop him so that she never has to experience that indignity or discomfort.

He guides her to straddle him, pushing her upwards towards his face, but she falters.

“Osferth, I’ll crush you!” She protests, hovering above him.

“You won’t, my lady.” He tells her with a soft chuckle, tugging insistently at her thighs.

She relents, hovering over his face. “What are you going to…oh!”

He cuts her off, gripping her outer thighs and runs the flat of his tongue against her centre. He can taste the remnants of her previous climax and hums at the sensation. She is sweeter than honeyed wine, an essence so pure it must be holy.

Tugging her flush against his face he laps at her like a man starved, sucking harshly against her pearl, before licking hungrily through the slick that gathers as she whines and writhes above him. If there is a Heaven then he has found it between her thighs and never wants to leave.

He strains painfully against his breeches beneath his robes as she begins to lose control, grinding against each flick of his tongue. He knows she will not last long, already sensitive from his earlier attention and so he savours each moment; her taste, her scent, the feel of her against his mouth and how she moves against him. She is a vision of beauty beyond comprehension as she sits astride him, thread thrown back, moans of ecstasy offered up to the night sky.

She was created in the image of all things good and pure, and his journey so far has led him to her; she is made for him, of this he is certain as she reaches the apex of her pleasure. He swallows down her release like it’s communion wine. In her gratification he is cleansed, reborn.

Osferth lays her down carefully on her bed roll afterwards, covering her body with his own. She appears almost drunk as she gazes up at him, eyes heavy lidded with a soft smile upon her lips.

“My sweet girl,” He coos to her, softly stroking her face. “Can you take more? Will you let me inside?”

As she opens her mouth to answer, the raucous laughter of Finan can be heard in the near distance. The group is returning.

Osferth moves quickly away from her, laying down on his own sleeping mat, watching her as her eyes flutter closed. He hopes she will dream of him. He hopes they will have further opportunities to explore each other. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and she is the most precious mystery he has yet to encounter.

#osferth #osferth x reader #osferth smut #the last kingdom #TLK #osferth fan fiction #osferth fanfiction #osferth fan fic #osferth fanfic #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic #ewan mitchell

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bythepen98 · 1 year

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Fem!Izuku 💚

Technically a doodle since it only took me 2-3 hours to finish.

I know Horikoshi drew him as a girl with short hair but I like to imagine it longer, fluffy and styled like his mother's.

Not entirely sure how big of a difference growing up quirkless as a girl would be and how much that would've affected her once she entered UA but, again, I'm no author so I'll keep it simple:

As per my headcanon, she's still roughly the same with ofc more feminine mannerisms and I reckon there'd be some differences with her fighting style/patterns even when she's trying to imitate All might (bc I know I'd probably move different if I was a guy). She's still bestfriends with Iida and Ochaco but would also be closer to her other female classmates and would attend any scheduled hang outs with them unless it falls on a training day with All might or smtg--Girls night every other week or month once they enter the dorms.

Speaking of All might, he's already doting on male Izuku but he'll probably be even more protective if he was a girl (doesn't help that he's reminded of Nana when he sees her hairstyle). Aizawa doesn't believe in the notion that girls be automatically coddled bc of their gender but I'm sure after getting to know his number one problem child, he'll low-key be more sweet on her than the rest and is extra harsh during training bc he wants to make sure she can protect herself.

Izuku is exasperated but also appreciates it and would indulge them bc they're her dads.

Self indulgent thought: She has her hoard of admirers (villains included) but is extremely dense and anything but a blunt no nonsense confession to her face will be perceived as a reach out for friendship. Katsuki is her guard dog in these matters bc he definitely likes her but is being stupid about it, understandable considering their still unresolved-complicated past, so he takes it upon himself to keep away other dunces who think they can get lucky. Shouto and Hitoshi have a pass bc they're her friends, but he keeps an eye on them just in case.

Self indulgent thought #2: as a girl who grew up quirkless, she's def more sensitive when it comes to sa/ppl generally taking advantage of others and so would've snapped and had Mineta expelled on the first week, if not first day of class. That would've opened up a spot early for Hitoshi to join in. With Izuku's power of persuasion to wear down his i-didnt-come-here-to-make-friends stance and Hitoshi finding out that she was the reason for him getting into hero class so soon? The guy was an instant goner and never looked away since. The todoroki vs deku fight during the festival is a fixed event in my hc so Shouto fell in love there.

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answer2jeff · 5 months

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when it rolls in like thunder: teaser.

dad!carmy x hispanic mom!reader series teaser!

warnings : dad!carmy x mom!reader, reader is implied female and hispanic, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of childbirth. obviously.

authors note : guys i know i'm late to the dad!carmy train.. but give me a chance!!! i tried so hard to not absolutely love the idea of carmen being a dad and i failed miserably. take this as an apology. and shout out to my hispanic girlies bc we deserve some fics made specifically for us !

"Levántate, princessa mia," you gently raised her chubby arms and sat Valeria up in her barred crib, the golden finish complimenting her collection of hand-me-down stuffed animals from your childhood.

You reached for her soft beige pants that rested on her little dresser next to her crib. She'd only recently grown into it, going up a size or two now that she finally turned 8 months old. You and Carmen saw them at a thrift shop in Chicago during your, although beautiful, excruciatingly long pregnancy.

He knew he had to see his little girl in them, rocking them beautifully just like her stylish and tasteful mother.

—

"What do y'think, honey? I like 'em. I think she'll look so cute. Cheap for the quality, too. Damn."

Carmen felt the thickness of the fabric with his finger tips, rubbing them together through the cloth. He nodded his head in approval. He raised them up to let you get a closer look as he beamed with a grin.

"Oh, these are adorable! They're gonna take a little while for her to grow into 'em, though, no? Parasen un poco grande, amor."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if an article of clothing that you weren't even sure would fit would be worth 8 precious dollars in your joint bank account.

"Well, we don't know how big she's gonna be. She'll grow into 'em."

Carmen was pretty convincing. His voice soft and persuasive and his pure excitement for fatherhood was enough to reel you in to every proposal he made. How could you say no when he was just so enthusiastic?

"What about you, sweet girl? Huh? What do y'think?"

Carmen set the pants back down on the clothing rack, kneeling down just to slightest bit as he raised a hand to your belly. You peered down at him in awe, the sight of him already bursting with love for your child making you go weak.

And as if you couldn't be more angelic, Carmen thought you were more beautiful than ever carrying his child. He moved the palm of his hand into a slow and gentle circle.

The kick of your soon to be newborn daughter against his hand was reassuring. The two of you nearly gasped, laughing in unison at her comedic timing.

—

Valeria let out squeals and babbles of impatience as you rolled her little lace socks over her small feet. The hassle of getting dressed in the morning, even after she got the leverage to make an absolute mess of her onesie while she ate breakfast in her high-chair.

Even bibs couldn't catch the sloppy mush of crushed strawberries before she'd wash it down with the liquid gold that was your breast milk. Valeria had a tendency to try and bite down during feeding when her mouth was all gums. But now that her teeth were nearly done coming in, it was an even more frequent offense. It startled you every time.

You tried switching to bottles: the ones with realistically covered and textured silicone nipples with a stopper to avoid the possible spills of milk, but they never sufficed. Valeria had to have the 'real thing,' or she was hardly ever satisfied. Carmen wondered how you did it. Well, he knew how, logistically, but he knew that it had to be emotionally and physically exhausting.

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm tryin' to hurry. Geez, you've been spoiled since birth, mija," you sighed dramatically, nodding your head and placing a kiss on Valeria's forehead, her hair tickling your philtrum.

Suddenly, you could hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. Valeria immediately squirmed vigorously and smiled ear to ear as you scooped her into your tired arms. It was like she could smell him, the way she knew immediately that it was her dad.

"Who's that? Is that Daddy?" you turned to Valeria and bounced her up and down, her little hands already flaying around as giggle after giggle escaped her mouth. Your beloved husband called out for you once or twice, quickly realizing you'd been in the nursery when he heard the sound of his girls.

"Hi, hone—Oh my goodness!" Carmen gasped, peeking his head into the heaven-like bedroom. It seemed like he was immediately drawn to Valeria like a magnet. His white t-shirt stuck to his skin from the summer heat, his baseball cap casting a shadow on his face. He almost looked a little out of breath.

He walked in while gushing at the sight of Valeria all dressed in her mothers arms. The off-white, soft lettuce-cut top paired perfectly with her socks. The white ribbon in her hair literally tying the look together.

"Dada!" Valeria pointed her little finger to him, trying to escape your embrace and jump into Carmen's arms if she truly could. She'd become especially talkative lately. But she hadn't quite figured out to greet you with a sickly sweet 'mama' whenever you came around to pepper smooches on her head and smooth, chubby cheeks. You rolled your eyes playfully as you stood beside him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Did mommy get you all dressed up this morning? Hm?" Carmen smiled sweetly at his daughter and scrunched up his nose, just to hear her laugh at his expressions. He held her close against him with his right arm so that Valeria could rest her little head against his shoulder.

"Yep, I sure did," you chuckled, letting Carmen wrap his arm around your waist and draw you in for a quick kiss. Your hand lied on top of Carmen's. Every vein and knuckle was caressed by the pad of your thumb.

"Sorry I took a while. Jus' wanted to pick up some groceries down the street,'" Carmen mumbled into your hair before planting a kiss on the top of your head. "Thank you for bein' with 'er, baby."

You only nodded your head, leaning into his touch as your eyes fluttered shut. Last night was quite a riot. But Carmy, being the gracious hero he often was, arose the moment he heard sweet Valeria crying out for touch and attention from her crib. That baby monitor was the only thing that could help Carmen's anxieties calm and let him sleep at night, but was also the only thing waking him up nowadays.

"We got a real princess on our hands, huh?" you smiled at Valeria, her head rested on Carmen's chest and her hand pressed against his peck. She looked just as content. Her curly hair was thick and full of life. Those Italian genes ran strong. With the face of her mothers, friends and family raved about your resemblance everywhere you went with her. But those bright blue eyes and small smile of hers? All Carmy.

"Two princesses on our hands," Carmen corrected you.

With the angelic face of her mothers and fierce, yet tender eyes of her father, she'd be unstoppable.

"My princesses. My girls."

She already was, actually.

#AGH this turned out so cute #i'm so excited for this series!!!#let me know what you guys think<3 #carmen berzatto #dad!carmy #dad!carmy x mom!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #mom!reader #hispanic!reader #the bear

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morallyinept · 2 months

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A full character analysis on JAVIER PEÑA from the TV show NARCOS

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

*Contains some comparisons to the real life Javier Peña, on which Pedro's Javier Peña is based on.

Basic Details:

Full Name: Javier Peña

Nickname(s): Javi, also referred to as "Peña" or "Jav" by Steve Murphy

Appears in: Narcos, 2015 (first appearance on screen in episode 1, season 1 at approx. 31:41)

Age (if known): Unconfirmed, suspected late 30's, possibly early-to-mid 40's

Sexuality: Straight - Javi was previously engaged to a woman named Lorraine back in Laredo, and also regularly sleeps with female hookers. He also hooked up with a female colleague, Katie, and slept with M-19 co-leader Elisa Álvarez, whilst temporarily hiding her in his apartment.

Nationality: Texan, Javi is from Laredo, Texas, with Mexican roots

Family: Father, Chucho Peña. There is brief mention of an aunt.

Spouse/Partner: No mention of a current partner.

Relationship Status: Currently single, was previously engaged to Lorraine.

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: Spanish, English

Education: Presumed at least high school educated as he works for the government and the DEA as a Special Agent

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: DEA Special Agent, and later as Country Attaché

Special Skill(s): Combat training, guns and ammo, detective work, undercover work, anti-terrorism, anti-drugs trafficking, tactical

Notable Colleague(s): Steve Murphy, General Carillo

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): None

Piercings: None

Scar(s): None notable

Other Markings: None notable

Prominent Feature(s): Clean shaven face with a prominent pencil moustache

Injuries: Javi doesn't suffer any serious injuries. He does, however, endure very minor slips and stumbles when chasing down Narcos/suspects, most notably in season 3 when he chases down Franklin Jurado and jumps down a balcony, which leaves him limping for a few moments after as he runs.

Eye Colour: Brown

Hair Colour: Brown

Personality:

Traits: Determined, persuasive, adept

Javi is purported to be originally from Laredo, Texas. (The real life Javier Pena was born and raised in Hebbronville, Texas.)

Javi starts off as a special agent for the DEA, and then later becomes Country Attaché for Colombia, as titled on his business card we see in season 3. An attaché is normally an official, who serves either as a diplomat or as a member of the support staff, under the authority of an ambassador or other head of a diplomatic mission, mostly in intergovernmental organizations or international non-governmental organisations or agencies.

Narcos is set between the late 1970's until the early 1990's.

Javi appears to type at a slow to medium pace, using both his index fingers on the keys, and uses a typewriter when typing up his reports at his desk.

Whilst Javi tends to skirt the line of morals at times, it's clear that using any means necessary to capture Escobar is something he will entertain, and states himself, even if it means getting close to his enemies and playing on both sides. This is evident when he uses and provides intel to Judy Moncada and Don Berna, which then include the Los Pepe's murders, and ends up working with the Castaño's to get Christina Jurado back.

Javi is seen making the decision to gun down Gacha in the chopper, and states that he'll "sleep tonight" when asked if he's alright. He also shoots a man - who claims he's a politician - in the gut to get answers. This behaviour indicates that Javi will make choices that potentially risk him being the "bad guy" and putting his career at risk, in order to seek justice and bring down Escobar and the Cali Cartel. Subsequently his choices catch up with him when he's fired at the end of season 2, for his involvement with Los Pepes.

Whilst we don't see Javi physically cry during Narcos, he does get watery-eyed when talking to his father Chucho in the car on the way back from the wedding, and also when Carillo shoots a child at point blank range and Steve asks him what's going on. Javi deals with his emotions by either drinking (we see him frequent many bars and drinking what appears to be Whiskey), or by indulging in sex.

Javi appears to have had specialist combat training at some point in his career - we see him descending from a helicopter into the jungle via rope line, which isn't standard training for police or DEA, unless you're in a specialist unit.

The real life Javier Peña served as a deputy sheriff for Webb County sheriff’s office in Laredo from 1975 to 1984, and then continued his service with the DEA until his retirement in 2014. In the show it appears that Javi has his career solely in the DEA as there isn't mention of anything else. Steve states that he is a "lifer" in the DEA when they're both at the airport whilst Javi is waiting for his flight home back to the USA after his dismissal.

Javi is seen drinking coffee regularly, presumed black as he is not seen adding any milk/cream or sugar, and also drinks Whiskey. When Helena asks what drink he can offer her, he replies "Whiskey or water." Javi is seen ordering a Whiskey Dry at the bar in season 3. It appears Whiskey is his drink of choice.

Javi appears to shake and twitch his left hand fingers when he's apparently anxious. He does this a few times throughout the show. (This may actually be a trait that Pedro has himself, as he also does this for his character Joel Miller in The Last Of Us.)

Javi uses flirting as a way of persuading women to help him. He does this with Colleen by complimenting her nails when he needs her signature. He tells the Ambassador she's wearing a beautiful dress when he gets her to agree to his needs in season 1. He also tries it with Christina by flirting and buying her a drink with the intention of getting her to talk, although that goes south pretty quickly due to her loyalty to her husband.

Javi looks "after his own". He demonstrates this several times by telling Steve to say he knows nothing and that it was all Javi if Steve were to be questioned about Los Pepes. He also does this again in season 3 on the plane with Fiestl and his team, telling them that it all comes back on him if it goes awry. This indicates he wants to protect others.

Javi's dad says it means a lot to his "tía" that Javi came to the wedding. Tía is the Spanish word for Aunt.

Javi calls his father "dad", "pop" and "pops". It seems they have a good, close relationship as Chucho seems to know a lot about Javi's career, and they've seemingly had talks about it before. There is no mention of Javi's mother during the show.

Javi is generally a pretty good shot with a gun; he's able to shoot the guerrilla holding Christina hostage - whilst wearing night vision goggles, which is actually harder to do than without, due to depth of field - in the face on a single shot. However, he's not a good shot when shooting the pigeons, missing every one. He claims it's because he's never been duck hunting when Steve jibes him for it.

Javi's Smoking Habits:

Javi is an avid smoker and it appears he smokes from the brand Marlboro, determined by the box shown on Gabriela's bedside table, and glimpses of the red boxes he has throughout the show.

Javi is seen actively smoking - or with a cigarette, even if it's not yet lit - in a total of 44 scenes across all three seasons. (13 scenes in season 1, 25 scenes in season 2 and 6 scenes in season 3.)

In episode 1 of season 3, Javi explains to Lorraine he's quitting smoking as he chews Nicorette gum. However, later at the end of the same episode, he's seen smoking as he wakes up in bed with Katie asleep beside him. Season 3 is the the least amount of times he's seen smoking however, indicating he's possibly trying to stay true to quitting.

Javi mostly smokes using his right hand, holding the cigarette between his thumb and pointer finger.

Javi's Lovers:

Javi has several lovers and appears to know and frequent prostitutes/hookers regularly, using them for information, as well as hook ups. This is more apparent in season 1 and 2 and less seen and mentioned in season 3. Assumed because Javi's job is more senior in season 3 and he has more of a reputation to uphold.

It appears statistically, based off of physical looks alone, that Javi possibly prefers brunettes.

He sleeps with prostitute Helena Sotomayor in season 1 whom he uses and pays for information, and it seems he does have affection for her as he states "we get better each time we practice," indicating he sleeps with her regularly. She is subsequently attacked and viciously raped, before can Javi rescue her. His first sex scene in the show is with Helena on his loveseat in his apartment.

Javi then sleeps with M-19 Militia co-leader, Elisa Álvarez in season 1, when Connie brings her to Javi's apartment to protect and hide. Although they don't have a sex scene, they are shown naked in bed together. Javi is seen discussing getting her somewhere safe, however she states he isn't responsible for her. He nuzzles in and kisses her softly.

Javi has a regular hook-up with a prostitute named Gabriela in season 2. His second sex scene is with Gabriela in her apartment in her bedroom. Prior to that, he is seen wearing his jeans and smoking at the window, whilst she is naked on the bed, assumed after sex between them, and they talk together. Javi is seen rubbing her stomach affectionately.

Javi hooks up with a colleague called Katie in season 3. He doesn't have a sex scene with her, but wakes up in bed naked with her still asleep at dawn, and smokes a cigarette he takes from her purse.

Javi refers to some prostitutes by name and nickname in season 1, "Freckles" and "Vanessa", indicating he knows them quite well when he and Steve arrest McPickle at the private brothel, which Javi swears he doesn't know about with a smirk to Steve.

Javi was previously engaged to a woman back in Laredo called Lorraine. He tells Steve that he left her on their wedding day as he couldn't go through with it, and states "she's better off." Later we see Javi talking with her at the wedding they're both guests at in season 3 in Laredo. She has since remarried someone else called Randy. Javi apologizes to her indicating he still feels remorse for what he did. Lorraine says it's taken him "ten years" to apologise, indicating the length of time that has passed between them. Lorraine also appears to have had 2 children with Randy.

Javi's sex is generally affectionate, with lots of kissing, touching and nuzzling. He does this with both Helena and Elisa, and with both these women it's indicated that he possibly feels some genuine affection for them. He has a regular thing with Gabriela in season 2 and is seen talking with her about writing and why she continues to be a prostitute. Later however, he has rough sex with Gabriela after Carillo shoots the child in front of him. He has sex with Gabriela from behind and pulls on her hair.

Javi's Apartment:

Javi's apartment is a government issue apartment in Colombia. It's on the ground floor in an apartment block.

For an in depth look at Javi's apartment, please see these amazing posts already made by @pedropascalito

A look at Javi's Apartment & Another glimpse at the details

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfits - Javi's look is styled predominantly in the time period when Narcos is set - the late 70's, 80's, and into the early 90's. However, Javi's fashion very much clings onto the 70's vibe.

He wears lots of button down shirts in different colours, patterns and fits, with some being more fitted, and other's more square and loose looking on his frame. He often leaves his top few shirt buttons undone.

He wears mostly jeans, blue denim, that are tight fitting and slightly flared/bootcut around the ankle.

When he wears a suit, it's often a dark grey, brown or blue colour or a lighter pale shade, as was the style at the time. The suit jacket often appears a little too big for him, again as was the style back then with large shoulder pads and baggier slacks. He wears a variety of patterned ties when he wears a suit. He'll also leave the top button undone on his shirt and wear his tie slightly loose at the knot.

When he's doing field work, he dresses casually in shirts, jeans, boots and jackets. He wears green camo in the jungle when rescuing Christina.

He has a black, well worn leather jacket, and also several different styles of jacket, including denim and corduroy.

He wears a plaid shirt to the wedding in season 3, in homage to his Southern heritage.

He wears boots that have a small heel, and is seen wearing cowboy boots also in some scenes.

He wears aviator sunglasses with a yellow hue lens, which was a popular look in the 70's.

Accessories: Silver wrist watch worn on left wrist, handguns Beretta & Zoraki, handcuffs, aviator sunglasses, police badge. He uses a large sat phone and then later a smaller mobile phone in season 3. He carries his cigarettes, lighter and car keys in his jacket pockets. Javi has a pager in season 1 that he wears on his belt on his left hip. He also has a brown leather gun holster that he keeps on his left side in season 1, which is seen in a couple of shots.

Javi's Shirts range in colour and pattern, yet he mostly wears short-sleeved button ups. He often leaves the top two buttons open. A selection of some of his shirts:

Javi's Jackets include leather, denim, corduroy and sleeveless styles:

Javi's Suits are a selection of dark colours and pale two-piece combos, usually worn with a white shirt and selection of ties:

Javi's sunglasses are classic yellow lens tinted aviators, as was popular in the 1970's. He wears the same pair throughout all 3 seasons:

Javi's Tac Vest is a green combat military style, issued by the DEA, with a single front holster for his Beretta. He wears it during all three seasons:

Some accessories of Javi's seen in season 2 on Gabriela's bedside table: Marlboro cigarette box & blue lighter, silver watch, handcuffs in leather pouch, police DEA badge and his Beretta:

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Javi has two primary hand guns as his main weapons.

In season 1, he uses a Zoraki 914 pistol, which is a smaller model.

In seasons 2 & 3, his main weapon is a Beretta 9mm magnum 92FS series. He keeps his Beretta in his left side desk drawer when at his desk. He also wears his Beretta tucked into his belt behind his back.

In the scene where Javi & Steve are shooting the pigeons, Javi uses a Benelli M3 Super 90 Shotgun.

Javi also uses a rifle in season 3 in the episode where he rescues Christina from the jungle. It appears to be a carbine rifle, possibly an M16 model, however the exact model is not 100% confirmed anywhere.

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Javi owns and drives a Jeep Cherokee during seasons 1 & 2 - License plates are shown as REW-950, B35-17T & MOP-920. The license plate of Javi's Jeep Cherokee changes three times during the first two seasons. This is because private car license plates in Colombia were black and white from 1973 to 1990, while yellow and black plates introduced in 1991.

Javi owns and drives a 1995 Ford Explorer in Silver Grey in season 3 - License Plate BPL-729.

Dialogue:

🗨 See Javi's full dialogue from the show, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Javier Peña fandom Wiki Page

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal character analysis #pedro pascal character study #javier pena character analysis

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devildomwriter · 1 month

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“…Excuse me? You don’t know TSL? And you call yourself a human?! Just how clueless ARE you?! How could you not know?! Just the fact that you don’t know TSL alone is proof that you’ve been wasting your life! So, I’m going to do you a favor and teach you about TSL. Make sure you pay attention! The Tale of the Seven Lords, otherwise known as TSL, is a series of fantasy novels written by Christopher Peugeot. It’s a heroic epic spanning 138 volumes, and it’s the most widely-read fantasy series in the world. There are even theatrical versions, an animated series, and feature films, too. And it’s been translated into a total of 182 different languages. The 1990s theatrical version was an utter disaster, owing to the fact that they added several characters that were NOT present in the original manuscript. At the time I was like, “this producer totally needs to crawl into a hole and die!” But then the 2015 version came out, and it was AMAZING! Better than amazing! If you ask me, it showed that needlessly cramming a female lead in there alongside Henry was a bad idea. That’s not what he needs. What he NEEDS is a friend who really understands him, and the 2015 version proved that.

Also, the most vital element of the story is that each of the Seven lords is so unique. They’re all so interesting in their own peculiar way. That’s what makes TSL so great! The lords are all brothers…the oldest is called the Lord of Corruption. He doesn’t come across as being so bad at first, but he’s always plotting and planning in secret. The second oldest is the Lord of Fools, a scumbag who’ll do anything for money. The third oldest is called the Lord of Shadow, a brooding recluse. The fourth oldest is known as the Lord of Masks. He masquerades as a high-status, upstanding member of society, but underneath it all, he’s an inhumane monster. The fifth oldest, the Lord of Lechery, only ever thinks of sex. The sixth oldest is the Lord of Flies, and he only ever thinks of food. The seventh oldest, called the lord of Emptiness. He’s weird…you never know what’s running through his head! It seems most people like the oldest lord, the lord of corruption, the best. Everyone always talks about how great he is. But not me. I like the third Lord way more. Of course, I like Henry too. He’s the protagonist. He’s almost as great as the third lord. The second Lord is total scum, a hopeless degenerate that leads a life of extravagance and indulgence. He’s always causing trouble for the third lord. He’s got these magical pigs that can give birth to solid gold piglets, and he treasures them above all else. So Henry goes and talks to the pigs, and using his wit and powers of persuasion, he convinces them to leave with him. Then, he leads every last one of them away, and presents them to the third lord as a gift! Wow…I mean, they’re SUCH GOOD FRIENDS you can almost feel it! It’s enough to make you cry! Oh, and then there’s that one really awesome moment when the two of them realize they both like and respect each other, and they high-five! I just LOVE that part, you know? I wish I could have a moment like that. …I wish I could be like the third lord. I may be a recluse like him, but we’re totally different, because he’s got an amazing friend like Henry. Check it out. See that goldfish in the fish tank there? He’s actually named Henry. I love TSL so much that I couldn’t help naming him after the main character. But I cant really high-five a goldfish, can I?

The original author of TSL, Christopher Peugeot, he’s actually a human, you know? That’s why I’m so jealous of you guys. Humans are so lucky, you’ve got subscription services that let you watch your favorite anime anytime, you can go to Akihabara whenever you want… Why do only you guys get to experience all the good stuff? I mean, humans’ whole concept of pleasure originally came from us demons, you know? We gave it to you. So, why can’t we have a little bit of it back now, huh? I mean, I want to be able to go to a Japanese maid café, too. I want to hear the maids welcome me as if I’m the master of the house, and have them draw ketchup hearts on my fried rice omelette, to experience the magic of it all. I want to cosplay as Henry, and then go stand in the center of Akihabara, or maybe that one building in Tokyo that’s shaped like upside-down triangles. And once I’m there, I want to perform Henry’s super-powerful signature finishing move for all to see and say the incantation that goes with it. I want to shout it at the top of my lungs!...Actually you know what? I want to BE Henry.”

— Leviathan’s longest TSL rant (Chapter 1-13)

#literally the rant was so long I had to break it up because tumblr wouldn’t let me post it all together #obey me shall we date #obey me quote #obey me quote of the day #obey me leviathan #obey me leviasim #obey me tsl #obey me leviathan quotes #obey me chapter 1

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anghraine · 4 months

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I saw a popular author post about how, while of course Elizabeth has some obligatory flaws, Darcy's are exponentially more severe, and it was like stepping into a view so far removed from mine that it was almost disorienting.

The thing is, I periodically see people wondering why Elizabeth/Darcy is such a behemoth in Austen fandom when either/both of them have substantial flaws that the narrative doesn't shy away from. Their flaws aren't identical, but they do obviously mirror each other and are thematically intertwined, with reflecting character arcs and specific beats. As I see it, the novel maintains a tense and careful balance between them—not in terms of centrality (Elizabeth's mistakes and growth are more central to the narrative than Darcy's IMO) but in terms of the weight given their flaws and virtues.

And for me that's essential to their appeal!

I love plenty of other Austen characters and relationships, but for me, personally, none of the other canon pairings are balanced in such a fun and satisfying way. The closest (and the other most conventionally romantic pairing in Austen IMO) is probably Anne/Wentworth, where at least the choices of both of them are heavy contributors to their current problems. But a) the novel is ambivalent as to whether Anne actually erred morally in the first place and b) that is long in the past by the time of the novel; the Anne of the main story of Persuasion is a fairly idealized figure by contrast to Wentworth.

I sometimes see arguments that, say, Anne or Mr Knightley or Elinor Dashwood or whomever are actually as flawed and prone to error as their romantic counterparts, but I just ... don't buy it, honestly. As far as canon Austen goes, I only really see that balance in the course of the main story with Elizabeth/Darcy. P&P loves them and holds them up as admirable (and they are!), but it also loves undercutting them in clearly paralleling ways and does it over and over throughout the novel.

So the idea of an Elizabeth and Darcy where one of them has obligatory storytelling flaws that can't seriously be compared to the other's is just ... blah. It cuts out the fundamental interconnection and resonance between them that I think is built into the structure of the novel down to its bones and is what makes their relationship special. A lot of stories pay lip-service to that kind of dynamic, sure, but despite the many (many) imitators, I don't often see it done successfully. But P&P is the real deal.

So yeah, when people are like "why do people like Elizabeth with Darcy so much when she could have a different man who doesn't make serious mistakes" I'm just thinking ... why on earth would I want Elizabeth "there was truth in his looks" Bennet with someone who would never make mistakes on that level? Or when people are like, Darcy's just misunderstood, wouldn't he be better off with Jane [or another relatively idealized female character] it's like ... hell no, I love him, but I do not want to inflict him on that poor woman.

It's not that there's something wrong with multishipping them (I've written alternate pairings for both!) or shipping them with other people, but just in terms of the novel as it exists, I do think the balance and echoes between them are part of what makes the novel work and one of the sources of their long-standing popularity. And I feel that trying to pin the "real" blame on one or the other up-ends that balance and diminishes a lot of what I, at least, find appealing about the dynamic between them.

#anghraine babbles #anghraine rants #austen blogging #austen fanwank #otp of otps #elizabeth bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #long post

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littlefeltsparrow · 9 months

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Rhysand and Feyre offering Nesta a choice between the House of Wind and the human lands was them absolving themselves of having to explicitly state that they intended to imprison Nesta.

They give her a choice in a technical sense, when we define choice as “an act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities.” But, this style of negotiation Rhysand and Feyre use is distinctly skewed as it attempts to disguise itself as fair, when it is anything but that. It’s not so much of a choice when the options presented to you are functionally identical. In Nesta’s case, each option would result in her isolation and imprisonment where she would be at the mercy of individuals like Cassian and the Inner Circle.

Therefore, a fundamental question is raised: If it wasn’t a choice to begin with, why did Rhysand and Feyre frame it as such?

The answer to that question lies in the underlying facade of the Night Court’s leadership. Rhysand distinguishes himself from Tamlin by way of his emphasis on giving women free will and autonomy. While it is not the only thing that distinguishes him, it is a very persuasive quality in him that sets him apart from the rampant misogyny in Prythian. This promise of autonomy attracts powerful individuals such as Feyre, Elain and Morrigan to become parts of the court and contribute to its success and power. But, the guarantee of autonomy comes with one stipulation and that is that it’s dependant on Rhysand’s authorization.

Truthfully, any will of these female characters can be overridden by Rhysand’s say, but his facade depends on the fact that he must keep that stipulation as hidden as possible. So, he obscures this by giving people choices that are distorted or leading, absolving himself of forcing them to do what he wants while also pretending that whatever outcome occurs next came as a result of their own free will. He will never explicitly tell Nesta that he wants to isolate and imprison her, but he implicitly accomplishes the same thing by exerting peer pressure over her and only giving her one true option for her future. This strategy keeps these powerful individuals close by, but does not let them affect any change that Rhysand doesn’t want.

On the other hand, Feyre frames this Hobson’s choice as a legitimate strategy for dealing with Nesta because she most likely does not want to acknowledge that she is implicitly forcing Nesta into something. Feyre herself dealt with being forcefully imprisoned in her previous relationship, an event that traumatized her and wrecked that relationship permanently. As such, telling Nesta outright of her intentions to lock her up is something she simply cannot reckon with.

Feyre tries to soften the impact by saying that Nesta will not be technically imprisoned as she can leave the HOW whenever she wants, except she’ll have to complete an arduous climb in order to do so. Imagine if I threw a person into an 8ft deep hole and then said: “Don’t worry! I’m not imprisoning you because you can leave the hole whenever you like! (if you can climb out of it that is…)” This allows Feyre to assuage her guilt and reassure herself that she’s being fair to Nesta while also absolving herself of having to overtly force Nesta into the HOW.

#sjm critical #anti sjm #anti rhysand #pro nesta #acotar #anti acosf #nesta archeron #anti feysand #feyre archeron #acosf thoughts #cassian #anti inner circle

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nyctophiliq · 10 months

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⋆⑅˚₊ — keeping up appearances with reyna !

description. part of the keeping up appearances series

content warnings. MDNI, nsfw content, female bodied reader, mean dom! reyna, public sex (?), public stimulation, vibrator, remote controlled vibrator, masturbation author’s note. ao3 saw this first !!! happy reading otherwise 💕

lunchtime at the protocol was like a rush hour in a big city but with smaller number of people. the cafeteria turned into a buzzing beehive, a loud high school like lunch hall that were sort of broken into sections. in one of those sections, you sat with sage and viper, sipping from your glass as you talked with them about the last mission you were paired up together.

truth to be told you weren’t really taking part in the conversation, rather just listening in, sometimes nodding when a question was aimed your way or maybe wording a short answer. your mind wasn’t really focused on your surroundings, not when there was a bullet vibrator in you, one which had a remote and that remote was in the hands of non-other than reyna.

your girlfriend was very persuasive about the toy this morning, so much so that she woke you up with coaxing it into you. a few deep trusts, that evil but so charming smile muttering influential words as you were trying to wake from the haze of your sleep. you rubbed your eyes as she rubbed a few slow, tight circles on your clit before pushing the toy all the way in.

“everything alright?” your recollection of this morning is broken at its peak, gulping as you try to focus your mind on whatever is right in front of you and not in you. sage smiles when you finally look at her, nodding your head to answer her question and before you could’ve given her a smile back you felt the toy turning on.

a worried expression washes over you as you look at reyna, unbothered with her arms crossed, chatting with neon as she leaned against the wall. it was then that sage noticed the shift in your mood, looking around the room for any sign of what happened. reyna must’ve sensed you staring because she turns towards you, giving you a slight nod of her head before winking at you. a quiet sigh leaves you, rubbing the top of your thigh as you turn towards the food.

"are you sure?" sage says softly, leaning closer to you, watching your face for any changes that would indicate you were alright.

you think long and hard of your answer, but you can only manage to purse your lips and nod while nudging your food with the fork. sage lets it go, turning back to viper to talk about something that had to do with the med bay and then quickly turn it into talking about wine and dinner and how much she wanted to go out to this restaurant. you listened with one ear, trying to focus on that rather than the buzzing inside your, the warmth that was spreading from between your legs across your body.

there is the question again, "are you sure you're alright?" and you cannot keep it in anymore- you are much weaker than you thought before, especially when you feel the vibrations intensify. she turned it up to the next setting...

"just n-not hungry anymore, excuse me..." you murmur, walking out of the cafeteria quickly without waiting for their response. you knew you couldn't hide your worry well, but there was nothing they could do to help you- at least not the way reyna could help you right now.

you pass her on your way out, giving her a pleading look and you almost linger just to keep convincing her but when you feel the toy vibrate even more- you just had to get out of there. as fast as you could take your steps, heading to your room. your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out for your door handle, turning it open and running in the second you shut it. once safely behind it, the toy suddenly stopped inside you, leaving behind just the feeling of a buzzing under your skin.

the cold sheets of your bed calmed your hot skin, and your head heavy with all the lustful thoughts felt just a little lighter. but everything else inside was still scorching you, in desperate need of release with an overheated body you slipped your hand in your pants, not even bothered by the tight space, and just started rubbing yourself.

almost missing the door opening with a hiss you turn onto your side, fingers still moving in comfortable circles as you let out small cries, eyes focusing on the purple-glowing black form walking inside. "couldn't keep it together for too long, huh cariño?"

there is a smug smirk sitting on zyanya’s lips when she appears from the shadows, arms still crossed on her chest and grasping the remote to the toy inside you. pitiful chains of “please” and “I need it” leaves your lips as you try to push yourself up, smushing your thighs together after taking your hand out, trying to keep the mind-twisting pressure up and crawl over to your girlfriend.

“do you really, really need it?” her tone mocks you, but you could care less about it even if some parts of your head still registered that she liked it when you looked this pathetic. “just a l-little, please p-please… I want to-“ she cuts you off with an evil laugh and turns the toy up to its highest setting.

you gasp and close your mouth, your breathing picking up pace as your body begins shaking with the waves of pleasure coming from it, the toy vibrating at an inhuman speed, causing you to moan and pant. zyanya watches your movements with interest, enjoying the sight immensely. you were so weak and useless in front of her and god did it hurt. the buzzing was overwhelming, the heat spreading throughout your entire body. you let out small whimpers of discomfort as you pressed your free hand on your thigh, feeling your clit throbbing painfully.

you let out another whimper when you felt your orgasm starting to build, and you could feel yourself beginning to leak, the wetness hitting your sheets. you didn’t dare to look at zyanya but could feel how she watched your reaction. you bit your lip, clenching your jaw. you could barely see straight through your tears as you began sobbing, letting out pleasured screams.

"that's it baby," zyanya purrs, watching you, “such a good girl, cariño…” you kept repeating her words in your head as you continued to squeeze yourself, your body trembling and quivering, your eyes squeezed closed as you waited for the end. a wave of pleasure washed over you, making you lose all control over your body, falling limp on the bed. your head falls on the pillow as you continue to shake violently with your moans, your heart beating faster. zyanya laughs loudly, moving close to the bed until she lays beside you, cradling your weakened body.

"thank you..." you manage it out between your short breaths, pushing your face into the pillow as she kisses the back of your head and whispers soft things into your ear. soon enough the tremors slowly subsided, your eyes shutting themselves slowly. zyanya continues stroking your arm, whispering sweet nothings and kisses to your temple. her breath tickling your neck, making you shiver, and soon enough you were out enjoying a quick nap.

#📗 — written by moss !#reyna x reader #valorant x reader smut #valorant x reader #valorant reyna #valorant reyna x reader #valorant reyna x reader smut #reyna smut #reyna x female reader #valorant reyna smut #zyanya mondragón x reader #valorant x female reader #valorant x you smut

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undertheorangetree · 7 months

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The Aftermath

Summary- Near death experiences have a habit of changing relationships.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. DUBCON due to persuasion. Female reader. Arguments. Bigotry/Islamophobia. Discussions of near death experiences/trauma. Dark-ish/toxic Billy. Fingering. P in V sex.

Author's Note- Okay so I've never actually seen the show in its entirety because it's not available in my country so I'm working off the wikia and what I've seen in scenes. Please forgive any mistakes/misinformation, he looked too sad and pathetic not to write for. Full link below :)

She doesn't bother to knock when she arrives at Billy's flat, storming inside with little regard for his privacy. He had given her a key not long after he moved in, promising that she could come over whenever she wanted, though she isn't sure this is what he had in mind at the time.

She makes her way passed the trash building up at the front door, forcing her way inside and finding him exactly where she expects to, lounging on the couch with some football game playing on the TV. He sits up when he spots her in the doorway, the smile that graces his face when he sees her slowly fading when he catches sight of her expression. She is sure it is a storm, her anger obvious, but she doesn't give him a chance to speak first.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

He looks at her blankly for a moment before a realization seems to come over him. "Lana told you then?"

"Yeah, Lana told me. What the hell were you thinking?"

He rolls his eyes, pushing forward to grab the beer bottle sitting on the coffee table and taking a swig. Her eyes catch the cuts on his knuckles, the opposite hand covered with a bloodied bandage, and watches the skin between his brows crease when the abused skin stretches. "Why does it matter to you? It's not like anyone was there anyway, was there? And you can't tell me they didn't deserve it."

"Why does it- Billy, you're not this stupid."

In all the years she's known him, she has never known him to be cruel. Quiet and insecure, surely, but never vicious. She almost hadn't believed Lana when she had called her, informing her of the one man attack he had pulled at the butcher's. It seemed so entirely out of character from the friend she had always known it nearly scared her, hearing about how he had destroyed the storefront for the crime of being owned by a Muslim family. But more than fear, it made her skin crawl, a disgust for him she had never felt toiling in her gut.

She isn't an idiot. She knows how he has been struggling lately. From his breakup with Becky to his consistent unemployment to his family ragging on him to make something of himself. Nothing has been easy for him as of late but she never would have expected him to let his rage out like this.

"If you only came here to bite my head off about it, save us both the trouble, yeah? Lana already beat you to it."

"So you don't regret it at all? Any of it?"

She wants him to say yes. And not just for the criminal record he has now contracted for it but for the guilt of screwing over innocent people. She wants him to prove that he is still her friend, to believe that he hasn't fallen down this path without so much as a blink.

He does little to assuage her fears. "What do I have to regret about it?"

Her disgust increases tenfold with that- she is grateful for it, as it manages to cover the pain of his confession- and she feels her face contort. "Why would you do it? What was the point?"

"They're the reason the world has gone to shit. It's 'cause of people like them, their whole fucked up religion. They're the animals here, not me."

She physically recoils at that, not bothering to hide her repulsion now. "Jesus Christ, Billy."

"Well I don't expect you to understand it. You're too nice, got a fucking bleeding heart for every poor bastard that walks past ya. It's 'cause of people like you that Nick and I-"

That catches her attention. "Nick? Was someone else with you when you went to the butcher?"

His face drops as if he realizes he has said something wrong but he still shakes his head as nonchalantly as he can manage. It isn't indifferent in the slightest. "Nah. Just my friend."

Read the rest here

#billy Washington x reader #billy Washington x fem!reader #billy Washington x you #billy Washington smut #billy washington trigger point #billy washington #trigger point #trigger point 2022 #billy Washington fanfic #billy Washington fanfiction

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sinisteryanderescribe · 4 months

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*Sees post* *Idea pop out*

Hello I was thinking about the Norton x Nurse Reader and immediately thought of his B tier skin Jarhead.

And a fan made game which i recall is called white tombstone, basically where the skins in the same essence as Jarhead (Norton's skin) plus some additional characters.

I think Norton's and Nurse Reader have like the some similarities for Ada and Emil's relationship or connection.

I like to see what to think about this concept.

Ayyooooo why didn’t I think about this!

Na cause if you really think about it , it would be something like Ada and emil’s situation but it still wouldn’t be that close as Norton would be more independent and stubborn.

The Shadowed Mind: A Paranoia's Grip

Characters: Norton Campbell

Genre: fluff, SFW

Female Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, slightly dark fic, mental health issues, mentions of paranoia, mentions of slight possessive actions, slight manipulation, aggressive behaviour

…………………………………………………………………………….

As usual you would meet him when the doctor placed you in charge of him, seeing how a variety of nurses had trouble looking after him.

“He was quite a challenge to deal with”

As other nurses would say. You’d hear stories of his actions with doctors and nurses, with how he’d have episodes of violent behaviour, breaking any object that’s close to him or refusing to take any medication, not trusting what they would do to him.

Well it wouldn’t be surprising though…he DOES suffer from paranoia.

Though the doctors do warn you not to let your guard down. Norton is smarter than you’d think. Thus explaining how others refused to be in charge of him and the last option was you.

So as we all know:

Norton Campbell, a patient with severe paranoia, is known for his persistent belief that he is in constant danger. This has led him to always wear a cook pot as a makeshift helmet, which he believes protects him from harm. He exhibits a tendency to deliberately create confusion and mistrust in others, as a defense mechanism against his perceived threats. He is wary of the medical staff, often viewing them as potential threats or manipulators.

Norton's interactions with doctors and nurses are characterized by skepticism and manipulation. He tends to treat medical professionals with suspicion, often attempting to undermine their authority and sow doubt in their actions. He may use his intelligence and persuasive skills to challenge their decisions and create a sense of unease among the staff, making it difficult for them to gain his trust.

So:

When you’d be assigned to care for Norton, he initially responds with hostility and attempts to manipulate you, testing your patience and resolve. He displays a cold and distant demeanor, making it clear that he does not trust easily. His interactions with you are marked by a constant wariness, as he tries to gauge your intentions and capabilities. However, over time, as you demonstrate genuine care and understanding, Norton's defenses slowly begin to crumble. He starts to open up, albeit cautiously, showing glimpses of vulnerability and allowing you to see beyond his protective facade.

Thus he begins to warm up to you:

As your actions continues to provide compassionate care and unwavering support, Norton's demeanor softens, and he begins to show signs of trust and attachment. He still struggles with moments of mistrust and emotional volatility, but he also starts seeking comfort and solace in the your presence. Your interactions become more genuine, and Norton finds himself relying on the you for emotional support and stability, despite his lingering fears and insecurities.

You’d find him staring at you whenever he’d be in deep thought, or occasionally fiddle with the hem of your dress. Surprisingly Norton’s actually quite touch starved and he may be a little…possessive and show signs of slight jealousy if you’d interact with any other male patients or doctors.

So he might grab a little too hard on your waist for the whole day to keep you from going anywhere…

While there is a gradual shift towards warmth and trust in your relationship, the journey is fraught with emotional turmoil and challenges, reflecting the complex nature of Norton's mental state and your unwavering dedication to his well-being.

#idv #idv chat #anonymous asks #anonymous #idv x reader #norton campbell headcanon #Norton x reader #Norton Campbell #Sia answers #identity v x fem reader #Identity v x reader #norton x fem reader #Norton Campbell fluff

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