#GIVE ME MORE AFTERMATH THREADS

[nonsupe-a]

also give me more threads facing the aftermath of supes or otherwise powered individuals !!!     good and bad honestly.

[cripplemagics]

don't mind me i'm just transferring my tags since they didn't auto transfer to the new editor (ugh.)

[mr007pennyworth]

Though he isn't the best chef, never has been, Gareth prepared breakfast for Alfred - toast, eggs, some bacon, a cup of his favourite tea of course, and a bowl of fresh fruits. Neatly placed on a tray, he nudges the door to Alfred's bedroom open and enters, smiling softly.

"I thought you could need this today," he explains as he sits down on the edge of the bed and places the tray down. Some DVD cases are tucked under his arm that he now shows Alfred. Some really dirty films.

"Found them in the house, I suppose they are Bruce's. I'm not asking questions." His brow rises and his smile turns cheeky. "Thought you might want to watch them."

Alfred was still sat in bed having only just woken up a little after Gareth. It had been a little more than a restless night, his leg perfectly happy to keep nagging him about the painful reminder that today would be.

When he initially came round he felt the dread and sinking feeling he usually had wasn't quiet as bad as previous days, he'd looked towards the door where he could hear Gareth in the kitchen and pondered if the younger's return had perhaps been the reason.

When Gareth arrived with a tray of breakfast and DVD's Alfred was rather...surprised. "For me?"

It had been a very long time since anyone had done this sort of thing, usually, he was cooking for Bruce and having to hand feed Bruce for that matter...oh that boy.

"Well, thank you, I-I mean you-" he scratches at the top of his ear curiously. "You know then I assume, what...well, silly question you're a bloody MI agent, you read the file...*tut*" Alfred picks up the teacup smirking when Gareth sets down the DVD's.

"Actually.... they're mine...Bruce has no time for TV, doesn't care for it..."

@dontcxckitup

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— AFTERMATH

SUMMARY : she’s human and ben wants to push her limits, fuck anyone else who got in the way of his mission.

PAIRING : soldier boy x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, choking, no plot :’(

WORD COUNT : 1.3k

A/N : title from a muse song. I’m trying to post all the things I’ve already written before getting started on new projects. this makes me so happy xx

“How many’s that?” Ben asked with a smirk on his lips, plunging his fingers in and out of her. Y/N could only whine in response, her head rolled to the side, the build up of another orgasm growing from within. He trailed his lips down her chest, the hot kisses felt like pleasurable sparks over her nerves, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling her sensitive skin and feeling just as good.

When she didn’t respond, he tilted his head at her, quickly thinking of a way to get her to answer him. His long, messy hair fell in front of his green eyes, waiting for her to look at him, but she didn’t. He slid his fingers out of her and his eyes flickered down to them, glistening and wet with her warm arousal.

She squirmed at the sensation of his warm breath on her pussy, her orgasm slowly began fading, but her sensitive clit still throbbed with desire. She opened her eyes, blinked the haze from her vision and quickly focused on the amusement and arrogance on his face.

“Ben?” She murmured, threading her fingers through his soft hair. He hummed softly, shifted his attention back on her face and brought his fingers into his mouth. He moaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut while savouring the taste of her on his fingers while she watched. He slipped his fingers out of his mouth and grabbed the underside of her thighs to open her up, digging his fingers roughly into her flesh.

“How many times did I make you cum?” He asked slowly, gazing at her from between her legs. He felt her calves press tightly against the back of his arms and more wetness grew between her legs. She let her head fall back into the pillows, rolling her eyes in annoyance, but he was too busy licking his lips hungrily and staring between her legs to really notice.

He still sensed her irritation but leaned into her anyway, his nose bumping against her clit. He licked a flat stripe of her pussy, started at her entrance to taste her and through her soaked folds, the tip of his tongue teasingly flicking up at her clit. His mouth watered, a little moan vibrated through him and against her cunt to add to the torture.

She fisted the bedsheets, felt the fires of her orgasm flickering again, his tongue teasingly brushed up and down her clit. “Fuck….” She grunted, squirming when he refused to change the pace and pressure, keeping her right on the edge, the fire in her staying light and warm. Only occasionally, he’d change the speed and the way he licked at her cunt. He’d only stop when she jolted, when she moaned and arched her back, when she wiggled her hips, fighting against his tight hold on her thighs.

“How many?” He mumbled against her.

“Five… five,” she whispered breathlessly, giving in. Her toes curled when he sucked her clit into his mouth rewardingly, two fingers slipping back into her. They curled against her walls, knuckle-deep inside her with her arousal dripping down to his palm. Smirking at the way she soaked his hand, he stretched her velvety walls by adding a third finger, pumping them into her quickly. He sucked roughly at her clit until she moaned his name loudly for a sixth time.

“You’re fine,” he muttered, rolling his eyes when she tugged his hair to stop him from sucking her clit. He sat back on his legs, brought one hand to her knee to keep her legs apart, and stroked his cock with the hand that was soaked in her arousal. “Fuck, look at you… all hot and beautiful.”

He grunted deeply and twisted his hand on his cock teasingly. His eyes were glued on her, starting with her half-lidded eyes and her parted lips, trying to catch her breath. He trailed his eyes down to her chest which rose and fell with each panting breath she took. He traced the curves of her body with his greedy eyes, her smooth skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, her hands now resting on her stomach.

He tugged at his cock faster, tightened his grip, a groan rumbling through his chest. His eyes had moved down to her weeping folds for a few moments before he moved closer to her. The heat of her body radiated to him like a sun and made his skin hotter, flushed and pink, sweaty from the rapid beating of his own heart. He moved his hand away from her knee to wrap it around her neck, his grip tightening safely.

“Ben,” she moaned, staring into his dark eyes. His cock throbbed in his hand and he gently released her neck before tightening his grip again, turned on by the way she breathed unevenly. He released her neck so she could breathe again, leaned over her to kiss her roughly instead. He parted from her lips, but continued to jerk himself off, the fiery feeling in his stomach spreading throughout his body.

She slipped her hands into his hair again, pulled him back down to continue the passionate kiss, and held onto him desperately. She tingled between her legs when his cock brushed through her folds and bumped against her clit, reigniting the flames of her desire. The heat of him turned her on, as if he’d drugged her with just a kiss, with just a touch of his skin on hers.

He groaned into her mouth, pulled away slightly to press his forehead against hers when he came. A string of saliva connected their kiss-swollen lips, his warm breath puffed over her wet mouth, and his nose bumped gently against her own. Hot ropes of his cum painted her stomach and pelvis and his grip on her throat tightened until he was beginning to soften in his hand and his orgasm was starting to subside.

She gasped for breath when he let go of her neck. He felt his entire body relax, nuzzled her cheek with his nose, and rested his weight on her body. Unlike him, she was gentle and careful. She carded her fingers through his soft hair, her nails scratched his scalp pleasantly and an appreciative grumble resonated through his chest.

He pressed a kiss to her jaw, ghosted her skin with his soft lips to reach her mouth. He gave her a messy kiss, leaned his weight on his arm by her head to drag his rough hand down her body. He took her breath away again, pulled away just far enough so he could follow the path of his hand with his eyes.

He smeared his cum over her hip bone, used his fingers to gather his cum and brought it down to her abused folds. She twitched when his fingers brushed against her clit and she tried to shut her legs around his hand, but he gave her thigh a gentle slap that forced her to spread them open.

“You’ve been so good for me,” he praised softly. He kissed her cheek, gathered more of his cum and shoved his fingers inside her vagina. He pumped them into her slowly—twice or four times, then pulled them out to gather the last of his cum, but this time he brought his fingers to her lips. She was ready for him after a single tap of his fingertips against her lips and her tongue welcomed him into her mouth.

Her lips closed around his fingers, her gaze catching his when she sucked on them and he carefully started to thrust them in and out of her mouth. She hummed softly at the mixture of his and her cum, her teeth grazed his fingers when he pulled them out, and he awarded her with another kiss.

“Ben, I have to meet Butcher and Hugh-” she gasped when he pushed his cock into her smoothly.

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, dollface,” he chuckled, his cock already hardening inside her again. He rolled over onto his back, roughly grasped her hips and gave her a charming smirk now that she was on top. “Let’s see how much more you can handle.”

taglist

@syrma-sensei

main masterlist

soldier boy masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[blueparadis]

MERCY ꕀ HIGURUMA HIROMI.

+. CWs —» f!reader, sub-dom portrayal,mention of bdsm relationship,age gap, f! & m!oral,angst undertones. 1k word count.

+. SUMMARY —» A little quickie before lunch wouldn’t ruin your appetite or would it ?

+. NOTES —» don't mind me realizing one fine morning that he got such a pu$$y eating nose\\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\ back to blog navigation. tags — @6-022-10-23 @orchid3a

At first he said he would like to return the favor but truth to be told it is now embarrassing, to some extent it is even tormenting; to be seated like this, legs folded and knees apart from each other as your hands rush on your barely clad body like dashing waves on shore. Your wet cunt against his panting mouth. It feels like he is snatching your soul out of your body whenever his mouth covers your cunt to suck off your cunt making your teeth voluntarily violate your puffy lips that has still the aftermath of the blow job you just gave to him a while ago being under his desk. Mr. Higuruma Hiromi is exceptionally kind today. Isn't he such a gentleman for doing this?

Yes. He is but that is just for today. He does not really show this kind of mercy. Either he makes you read the papers while making you sit on his lap and of course without your panties on. One pause or one stammer as you read he stops playing with you and dare you turn your head to look him in the eye, lest this wealthy criminal lawyer knows more than thousands ways to punish you than the Gods you pray to. Sometimes Hiromi even asks you to try some new outfits and just spend the day working, actually working. He likes this, the carefully crafted session where he is your dom, you are his sub and nothing else matters. Perhaps just one fact that how he is fully aware of your emotions towards him yet refuses to acknowledge it; it does not matter that you harbor feelings for him or the fact that whatever he is doing is a great specimen of unethical work, to some extent sabotaging the professional relationship between the two of you. It is almost like fetching a bucket of freshwater in the dawn from a pond when all the dirt has settled to the bosom after such a long lonely night.

And now, he is just holding your hips while his tongue is at work, lapping up on your bare cunt, slurping your juices as if he is quenching his thirst for ichor. His deft finger squeezes your cheeks every time you glide against his mouth, the tip of his nose grazing the apex of your vagina.

“mmm-mnhhh” he hums sternly and you can feel it in your gut that he is not getting the full taste of you. Why are you moving so much? You glance at him in the eye as your knees come in contact with the skin of the couch. Hiromi closes his eyes after his lips stretch to a beautiful crescent full of pride; and once his eyes are closed his mouth and tongue get more devoted in distilling your climax from your body. Your back arch, hands roam all over your igniting skin and then you push forward clamping around the hand rest of the couch as his tongue does one final full lap against your lips before sucking on your bud blacking your eyes for a second and then, it stills.

The climax fades and you back away giving him space to sit but your back touches his folded legs and when you look up to him, there is no ounce of further longing, rather a famished look. Now, that’s rare.

Clearing your throat, you say, “I’m sorry Sir.” because you dare not stare too long in those eyes unless. . .

“It’s okay.” Hiromi quips. “You can look at me. You have earned it.” but you still do not. What if it's one of his tricks? Or a test? Or maybe he is just teasing you.

Your eyelids flap like the wings of a drowning bird as his arm slowly approaches you, to chin your face up, his face inclining towards yours, lips thread apart whispering, “It's okay. You can kiss me now.”

You still hesitate ; your lips do not yet all it does it to part. You can smell yourself on him. His wet lips and tip of the nose glistening against the light. “I would like you to kiss me now.”

You lean to kiss him; his hand firmly rests on your bare chest stopping you, his knuckles are still flushed. You gulp and murmur, “Thank you, Sir.” Ahhhh! Those eyes. Those beautiful galactic eyes that once looked up to him with so much respect are now filled with tears. He rubs his thumb over your cheeks. It is as dry as a desert. It is fascinating how you do not let those tears fall from your eyes. Never.

“ please, i would like you to kiss me, y/n.” he murmurs almost like a prayer and then kisses your cheeks before you kiss him back. Your hands are still hesitant to touch him, his collar to deepen the kiss but when you feel him pulling away your fingers take root along his neck grazing back to his undercut. His sudden touch on your breasts remind you how your top still clustered around your waist. You welp; you moan as the kiss continues so does his hand kneading your boobs but it does not stop there. He pinches your nipple, harder than before, makes you flinch and breaks the kiss only to ask, “Do I have any meeting scheduled within the next 30 mins?”

He sounds desperate. He has never been someone to return the favor instantly. Why now? Not to mention, he rarely forgets meetings appointments. He does not really need a secretary for that. You are here as his apprentice that he picked because you shined like a pink pearl in the bed of empty oysters.

“Yes.” you lie. “Would you like to reschedule it?” You quip quickly before the guilt starts to thicken and mixes with shame.

“No.” Hiromi zips up your top. His fingers linger under your chin for a moment before he says, “you know,” the tip of his thumb grazes your lower lip stretching it downwards. “I can always detect a lie no matter how much I don't want to, no matter how much the truth hurts to know than to believe in a lie.”

You stutter as you try to apologize. “I just—he immediately keeps his index finger over your lips but does not touch you.

“confused with timings of other meetings?” he finishes your line of thought. Leaning forward he whispered into your ears, “I wanna let this one slide.” Retreating he meets your eyes, hands resting on the couch, him leaning away from you. “I don't wanna fight ‘this’ — he swings his index finger between you and him as he finishes, “ anymore.”

Your eyebrows jump. Fear, surprise and joy rush inside your heart all at once. There is a few moments of silence before he exclaims in his stern ordering voice, that he generally uses in court sessions. “Get ready. We're going out for lunch.”

You get up and walk away to the restroom while fixing your skirt. ‘don’t wanna fight this anymore’ What a joke! There is nothing to fight. Mercy has never been so brutal before.

[ca4dy]

imagine shared breeding kink with Denji…

You guys have both never even thought of having children until recently. Being so busy devil hunting he can’t hold himself back when you two finally get alone. So when he gets his week off work you two go at it like animals.

"I... I need..." His voice is barely audible over the sound of their hard breaths together.

"I need to be inside you." He growls, his eyes wild and filled with a hunger he doesn't understand.

With one swift move, he flips them over, pinning her down beneath him. His cock, hard as steel, juts out between them, shining with pre-cum like a beacon in the darkness.

"Take me," He grunts, "take everything I am."

Feeling him enter your pussy. Your eyes fill with tears momentarily from the sting but You don’t stop him. Instead opting to wrap your legs around his waist.

"Fuck!" His voice is a hoarse whisper, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

He thrusts into you, each stroke deeper and harder than the last. His body shudders with every movement, his skin tingling with electricity from head to toe.

"I... I'm gonna come," He growls, his eyes locked on hers as he watches her face contort with pleasure and pain.

"I want you to feel this..." And with that, he slams inside one final time before collapsing onto you, both bodies trembling together in the aftermath of their union.

You blink up at him staring at him dreamily. He’s barely catching his breath before he starts moving inside you again.

"Fuck..." He gasps, his eyes widening as he looks at your inviting smile. He positions himself between your shaky legs once more, ready to claim her again and again until there are no drops left in him for her to take. He doesn't waste any time. With a single thrust, he plunges into you once more, their bodies connecting with an urgent need that refuses to be sated.

"I... I want you," He growls, his voice hoarse and filled with desire, "I want every part of you."

And with each stroke, he claims her again, filling the room with the sounds of their lovemaking, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony until they reach the peak of their passion once more. You wrapped your legs around Denji further trapping him inside as he prepared to paint your insides once more. He follows the lead, thrusting faster and harder than before, his hips slapping against hers in a rhythmic dance of lust.

"Y/n... I'm close," He gasps out, his voice breaking with the intensity of their lovemaking.

And with one final cry, he releases himself inside, filling her completely as they both reach their climax together. You wailed from the pain and pleasure of overstimulation still wanting more.

Eyes rolling and toes curling further you go limp under him.

He groans, his breath hot against her neck as he comes inside her. He pulls out of your beat up pussy slowly, bodies still connected by a thin thread of cum.

Without hesitation, he lowers his head and begins to clean her up, lapping at her sensitive folds with the same hunger that had consumed him moments ago.

"I... I love you," He whispers between licks, his tongue tracing every curve and crevice of her most intimate parts.

He continues his slow, tender assault on her most sensitive spots, each lick and suck drawing out another cry from her lips.

"Oh FUCK! I love you more than ANYTHING!" You nearly scream at the sensations he’s continuously giving you.

He continues his slow, tender assault on her most sensitive spots, each lick and suck drawing out another cry from her lips.

"I want... I want to make sure you're clean," He murmurs against her skin, his voice filled with a tenderness that leaves her breathless.

"And when we have our kids... I promise I'll be there for every moment." His words are soft but firm, a vow he intends to keep no matter what comes their way.

[whalesforhands]

mini headcanons of your life in the aftermath (nsfw)

DYF AU AFTERMATH; short edition

warnings: fem!reader, this is all consensual, p in v, baby batter, dry humping, etc.

geto suguru

- extremely needy, down-bad and perverted but hides it. jacks off when he’s sure you’re asleep while right next to you, biting moans back with a large hand slapped over his mouth. if it gets real bad, he’ll give in; waking you up with his tongue inbetween your legs and your thighs around his neck as he desperately gets himself off. (he purposely wakes gojo up to join. not that he needs to, satoru was well aware of what was already occurring.)

- actually insane amount of self-control. plays the waiting game and leaves you with lingering kisses on your skin, arms wrapped around you from behind when you prepare breakfast with him in the kitchen. your thigh is constantly nudging against a particularly hard erection that refuses to die down unless given some… special attention. “I can’t help it… You look so pretty.”

- eases you into heavy makeouts, his hand sneaking up your dress or down your pants, fingers rubbing against you through the underwear he picked out for you this morning, pushing you closer and closer to relief— Before he pulls away. “I’m sorry darling, I have a mission brief with Satoru today.”

- fails to hide his smirk when he sees you squirming, pout on your embarrassed face as you practically pounce on him right as he gets home. “Oh? What’s with that look? Missed me so much?”

- gentle, tender, so loving. sometimes, anyway. if you make him angry or displease him; good luck. you’re not going to be walking straight or sitting comfortably for a while. has the gall to act like it wasn’t his fault afterwards. “What’s wrong? Sore?” He’s kneeling before you as you sit up, your feet hanging over the side of the bed. He gently tucks a strand of hair back as you hold him for support due to your jelly-like legs.

- not very into choking or cutting you— due to chapter heave your nausea, but he will restrain you. and boy does he love that. shibari, bondage, ballgags, toys. anything that leaves you begging and whining out for him, helpless with your only saving grace being him. likes it best when you’re being so cute and obedient.

- enjoys finishing on your face or skin. loves painting your pretty skin, enjoys watching it drip down your cheeks, sliding onto your lips and watching your cute tongue peek out to taste him before he’s getting hard again.

gojo satoru

- if you think suguru is clingy, this man in contrast is insufferable, and he’s so open about it too. oh, he’s horny? no matter, he’ll just get up and off to find you, suguru or both. slings both arms around both of you whilst making light chatter, leading you unsuspecting duo to the bedroom or shower. you don’t even notice his intentions before he stops mid-sentence to ask: “So, sex?”

- actually kind of rough. really likes holding you down, and likes it even more if you have some fight in you. “come on, come on~, struggle a little bit harder. if you get on top of me, i’ll let you do whatever~” it’s vice versa for him too. lose and you’re entirely his for the day.

- “just a quick one, okay?” no. your legs are trembling, ankles digging into his back and you’re barely holding it together mentally as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, your thighs held around his hips when you feel him finish inside for the 3rd time that morning. “phew… that hit the spot. how about we go for another? suguru’s gonna come home to a pretty sight~” (TOTALLY NOT A REFERENCE TO MY KOFI FIC)

- “gojo satoru speaking!” down on your knees, you’re sucking on the tip as your hands slowly stroke him, your eyes looking up at him as his hand gently threads through your hair. “oh, you’re looking for her? not picking up her phone? sounds like a shame.”

- finishes inside. all the damn time. calls you his little eclair afterwards. you want to slap him.

bonus: satosugu

- the showers are not safe. you locked them out once and in the next moment, you had satoru crying into your neck and whining as suguru debates on removing the door entirely.

- them? loud? no. never. you, on the other hand; are a prime target. the door may be shut, locked, kids out with nanami/haibara/shoko/yaga for the day, and you still get embarrassed. messy with it too. almost any one of the mentioned can tell they did a number on you when you’re not the one opening the door.

- love love love seeing you in cosplay. you are absolutely not safe from their whims, and their bottomless pit of money. cat ears, bunny ears, extremely lewd lingerie, etc. you’re not safe at all.

- pictures. lots of them. and the fact that they show them off exclusively only to each other.

nvytalks:

most popular headcanon gets the scenario written. bcs it’s october and i have no kinktober contributions yet lol. thirsts are also a-okay to send, i wanna read what some of u think pls

[batsythoughts]

Alright, the Continued Adventures of Giggles Wayne (without being prompted to write it). First time attending a Gala and the aftermath

About a month had passed since the day that Harley and Ivy had went to Wayne Manor and the agreement for shared custody was made

It was supposed to be the first weekend that Giggles was going to be with them, but it was delayed because Harley had gotten food poisoning

The whole reason Bruce had suggested they watch Giggles for the weekend was a charity gala that was taking place Friday night

All of Gotham had known that he took in the child about the same day Alfred had 'gotten custody' of them

He was simply worried that not everyone was going to be so accepting of the little one given most everyone could tell who the biological father was

Instead of just leaving Giggles at home with Alfred for that night, Bruce decided to bring Giggles along with the rest of the family

He figured the lively personality of the child would potentially make more people generous and could help with the Wayne family's social reach

The night of the gala, Bruce and the boys were putting the finishing touches on their appearances in the foyer when Alfred gently guided Giggles to the family

Put in a outfit that was made of soft fabric, but still with an elegant look, Giggles had their hair put together while doing a small circle for everyone to see

Dick gushes at how lovely they look as he struggled to straighten out his tie in the mirror. Tim smiled while finishing up his third cup of coffee to have energy for the whole socializing. Damian and Jason both give small nods while smoothing out some wrinkles in their jackets.

Bruce came over and kneeled down while picking away a stray thread. His tone kind, but firm, as he explained the importance for the night

"There is going to be many important people at the gathering we are going to. You have to be extremely nice to all of the people there and be on your best behavior. Stay close to me or one of the boys at all times so we know where you are. Okay?"

"Okay Bruce."

The boys all chuckle at the seriousness spoken in Bruce's name

Bruce himself smiles before ushering everyone out the door and into the car

The drive there was full of Bruce reminding everyone of what they needed to do throughout the evening

(Jason's instructions were a simple 'Just don't')

When they finally drove up to the building that was hosting the whole event, Tim got Giggles out of the car seat while Bruce exchanged information with the valet

A few of the guests that were outside glanced over at the group, some holding skeptical looks as most focus on the child with them

Bruce gave them all a nod before going inside to begin his networking before having to make his own donation for the cause this whole thing was for

Giggles took Tim's hand to follow along with him for the first part of the event as everyone else went in different directions

Tim was supposed to talk up a few potential investors for a new project that Wayne Enterprise was about to start once they got said funding

He began his process of convincing them by starting with listening to them babble on about the small things on their mind. Adding certain questions to appear interested so they would feel more comfortable with opening their wallets later

Giggles even asked them a few questions as well to try and understand what they were talking about

The investors each carefully answered for the 4 year old to understand what everyone was saying. Each taking note of how polite Giggles was being when listening to them all speak

One woman let out a small noise of exclamation as she began to rummage through the clutch she was holding. Explaining some conversation she had with Dick about some shop at the last gala and had remembered the name of it days later

She handed a card to Tim while explaining that she wants to give it to Dick, but wouldn't be able to stay around long enough to see him that night

Tim takes the card from her as he goes to tuck it into his pocket while nodding in understanding

"I could take it to... Richard."

Tim and the others look down at Giggles as they looked between Tim and the one lady with wide eyes

The lady smiles at the offer while asking if Giggles would really be willing to do that for her. An eager nod was the answer she needed before looking to Tim to double check

Tim smiles while handing the card over to little hands as he quickly scanned the room. Spotting Dick at the far right end, Tim pointed in the direction that he was in

After being told the name to give to Dick, Giggles carefully walked through the crowd in the direction they were told. Waiting patiently for other to pass and politely asking to be let through

All the guest stop and stare for a moment before going back to their conversations once the child passed

Dick was in a conversation with a couple of business owners over some development of a new building that most of them didn't agree with

He felt a small hand rest on his wrist as he was speaking up on his thoughts for the whole thing

Since he had a drink in one hand, Dick raised his hand to take hold of the smaller one until he could acknowledge them fully

A lull finally did come into the conversation before an elderly man looked down to see the child quietly standing there

He excitedly asked how Giggles was doing and if they were having fun despite all the grown up talk

Giggles nods slowly before looking up at Dick. Bringing the card up and saying that a 'Miss Isabel' wanted to make sure he got it

He smiled while sticking the card in his jacket pocket while introducing Giggles to the people that he was talking to at the moment

The women around coo at the happy 'hello' they were given before being told that they all looked very pretty in their dresses

Everyone around begins to ask questions about Giggles and listened intently to every response that was given

A few minutes go by before Jason comes over to the group and stands on the other side of Giggles. Nursing a glass of hard liquor he managed to get from a waiter after slipping him a couple 20s

He lightly pats his younger sibling on the shoulder while smiling at a few of the socialites around

The questions continue for a few more minutes as Giggles shifted closer to Dick with a shy grin

A waiter comes by to take the old glassed and offer new drinks to the whole group. Even asking if Giggles would want a drink of water when he came back around in a few minutes

After getting a soft 'yes please', the waiter nods his head before gracefully walking away. Winking at Jason while looking at his almost empty glass

The older gentleman in the group begins to talk about his grandchildren and things they were interested in when they were younger

Giggles listens intently as the man rambles, still holding onto Dick's hand

The waiter comes back around and hands a small glass down to the child as Jason quickly switched out his own glass

Giggles takes a few small sips of water as the topic goes onto the family life of each of the group and how everyone was doing

Giggles gently tugged on Dick's sleeve to get his attention. Waiting until he was paying attention before speaking again

"I go back to see Tim, please?"

Dick smiles while pointing to where he could see Tim networking with some other group of investors

Dick and Jason both watch as Giggles carefully begins to walk through the crowd again

Dick begins to turn back around, but stops when Jason grabs his shoulder while staring a bit ahead of Giggles

He looks at Jason in confusion by the sudden change in his demeanor

"That guy just switched his ring hand."

Dick quickly turns his head in an attempt to see who exactly Jason was talking about

Time went by slower as they watched this man swing his hand back and hit Giggles in the face. The force knocking the child to the ground as the glass of water shattered on the marble floor

What made their blood boil was watching the man switch the ring back as everyone looked at the child in shock

Dick and Jason immediately rushed over as the staff cleared everyone away from the glass

Giggles sits up while holding their cheek while beginning to sob from the blow

Dick kneels down to comfort the crying child, trying to convince Giggles to remove their hand so Dick could see the damage

Jason ultimately got into the man's personal space while asking if he enjoyed hurting defenseless children

Bruce and Damian had been on the other end of the room when the incident happened

At first they had just thought someone had simply dropped a glass so they continued their conversation

But when Bruce heard the crying and Jason's voice start to raise, he immediately excuses himself while hastily making his way through the crowd

When Bruce arrived at the area, Dick still hadn't gotten Giggles to calm down as Jason began yelling that him and Dick had both watched him switch his ring back

Bruce raised his voice and asked what had happened while looking between them all

When Giggles hears his voice, they immediately stand up and rushed over to him

They reach up to him with red hands, teary eyes, and their bloody cheek displayed for all those around to see

But that isn't the thing that sets Bruce off the most about the moment

No, what pissed Bruce off the most was the broken and scared cry that came from Giggles while reaching up to him

"Daddy!"

Bruce didn't have high expectations that Giggles would see him as a father, thinking he would be more like an uncle if anything

But the first time he would have wanted to be acknowledged as that should have been a happier moment

Something like spending the day with the whole family or it just casually happening in conversation at dinner. Even if it was just a sleepy mistake while being tucked in for bedtime would have been alright for him

It shouldn't happen because some entitled ass laid their hands on his kid

Everyone got quiet while looking over at Bruce to see how he was going to react to the situation as Giggles continues sobbing

Bruce pulled a handkerchief out of his coat pocket before lifting Giggles into his arms. Gently wiping away the blood as him, Dick, and Jason all stared down the man

He tries saying it was an accident, but Jason grips his arm and lifts up the man's hand for everyone to look at

"You used your right hand to hit the kid. So why the hell is there blood on the ring you have on your left hand?"

All the spectators look at the man for an explanation, but he stumbles over his words while trying to defend himself

Any form of explanation falls on deaf ears as the cries get louder

Bruce took a deep breath as he continued to hold the cloth to Giggles cheek. Forcing a smile as he stared into this man's soul

"I think it would be best that you leave now."

All the guests watched in disgust as he hastily headed towards the exit

Dick and Jason both went up to Bruce as the crowd slowly went back to their own conversations

Dick quietly explained what had happened from Giggles getting to him to when Bruce got there. Jason admitting he should have went to Tim with the little one instead of staying with the group

Bruce said it could still of happened no matter if one of them was there or not and he was just glad they saw what happened

A member of staff came up to them with a first aid kit and asking if Giggles would need a bandage

They went to a quiet corner as the girl gently cleaned the cut before taping a piece of gauze across Giggles's cheek

Bruce used a few wet wipes to clean the blood off his child's hands while thanking the girl before she went back to working

Bruce wiped away the remaining tears while saying that he did have to talk with a few more people before leaving for the night

Giggles mumbled in acknowledgement while leaning further into his chest

Bruce rubbed their back as he explained that they did nothing wrong and the man should have never done what he did

He gets a small whine in response as he begins to walk back into the crowd to quickly meet with the last few people he needed to for the night

Everyone would look at the two as Bruce headed back to where he had left Damian, most sympathetic when they saw the terrified child clinging to Bruce

When he got back to the person they had been talking to, Bruce apologized for the sudden leave as he rests a hand on Damian's shoulder

Damian looked up to his father, stunned to see him holding the family's youngest in his arm

Bruce begins to explain that he would get in contact about the business proposal he was given another time as the family would need to be leaving early

He got an understanding nod and a card with a way to get in contact before he turned away to go and quickly work through the last few people he had to meet with that night

Damian walked beside his father as he carefully reached out to take hold of Giggles' hand

Giggles held his hand tightly while still keeping their head in Bruce's shoulder with a sniffle

As Bruce quickly made his way to talk with the last few people he needed to speak with, the other boys came back around to stick close to Bruce until they would leave

All the boys were still being social with other attendees that were nearby to still maintain appearances with everyone

With each person Bruce crossed off his list to talk to, a handful of concerned guests would walk over to them to check up on Giggles

Everyone one of them saying that they were shocked that it had happened in the first place

A few of them even saying that Giggles was very brave for having to go through the whole thing

They only got small mumbles in response as Bruce quickly explained that it was getting close to bedtime and they would need to leave quickly

As Bruce was finishing up with the last person, Dick went to go get the car ready for them so they could leave immediately

The family was about to walk out the front door when Bruce heard his name be called from behind

He sighed while turning around to see one of his oldest business associates, the elderly man that Dick had been speaking with earlier that evening

When the man got closer, he said how he hadn't expected anything like that to happen at an event like this

Glancing at the child slumped in Bruce's arms, he frowned while saying that it was a shame that nobody was able to stop it before it happened

Looking back at Bruce, the man had a weak smile while mentioning that the person from earlier would be as good as bankrupt come the morning

Bruce smiles while expressing his appreciation for people being so kind to his child through the whole ordeal

With a final goodbye, Bruce went out onto the sidewalk as the boys waited around the car for Bruce to come outside

All the boys get in the car after Bruce gets Giggles buckled into the carseat

The ride was silent for the first few minutes Giggles gives a soft cry while beginning to apologize

Dick, ever the worrier, turned around to look back while asking why Giggles was apologizing to them

It took a few moments to figure out what Giggles was trying to say through the small sobs

Eventually, they were able to decipher that Giggles felt guilty they had to leave early

Bruce tightens his hold on the steering wheel as they listened to the soft whines

When a red light forces Bruce to stop the car, he turns around to face Giggles with a soft expression

"You don't have to be sorry. We were going leave before everyone else anyway. What happened tonight didn't change that. Now just take a deep breath and we'll be home soon."

The rest of the ride goes by quickly as Tim and Damian continue to gently reassure Giggles with plans of what they could do for the weekend

When they finally got back to the manor, the boys quickly went to get a few things quickly set up while Bruce took Giggles upstairs to get changed

Opening the door to Giggles's room, Bruce went to the dresser and pulled out a set of pajamas from the drawer

Getting the child changed into the pajamas, Bruce then guides them into the bathroom

Lifting Giggles onto the the counter, Bruce gets a washcloth and wets it with warm water before wiping the dried tears away

With a deep sigh, Bruce pulled away the gauze away to see the fresh cut from the ring. The whine of pain from Giggles as he recleaned the cut breaking his heart

Putting a new bandage over the cut, Bruce placed a small kiss to Giggles cheek while picking them up and going back downstairs

Dick waits at the bottom of the stairs with a smile while saying that him and the boys had put together a small surprise in the kitchen

Leading the pair to the kitchen, Alfred and Tim are putting together multiple cups of hot chocolate. Meanwhile, Jason and Damian are rinsing different fruits in the sink before putting them on a plate in the center of the counter

Bruce smiled a little at the scene while putting Giggles down on the counter as he gets handed two cups

Giggles carefully takes one mug from his hands to blow on the liquid before taking a sip

Dick goes to the fridge and gets a can of whipped cream. Putting a tiny amount in Giggles' cup before passing it around for everyone else to use

Damian pushed the plate of fruits closer to Giggles as he drank from his own mug

Giggles hesitantly took a piece and eating it with a tired look in their eyes

Jason's mouth turned to a thin line as he shook up the can in his hand. He took out his phone and handed it to Damian as he told him to 'record this'

Putting a small amount of whipped cream in his hand while walking over to Tim

Tim's eyes go wide as he steps behind Alfred while frantically telling Jason to get away from him

Jason smiles as he explains he wasn't going to do anything to Tim as he hands the can to Dick

Bruce is about to tell Jason to stop terrorizing Tim for the night when Jason shoves his hand in Dick's face

The can drops to the ground as Dick stumbled back in shock as he wiped away the whipped cream from his eyes while staring at Jason

Laughter fills the air from both Tim and Giggles as Jason smirked at Dick

Dick immediately smiled back as he reached out for a hug while trying to press his face to Jason's

Jason pushes against Dick while yelling for him to get away from him. Dick just told him to embrace the brotherly love as he fought back

Dick eventually wraps his arms around Jason as he rubs his cheek all over Jason's face

The laughter gets louder as Dick let's go of Jason with his head held high

Both of them shared a tense look before turning their head over to their younger siblings

Tim began stepping back as he told Jason to stay away from him. Dick looked over at Damian with a smile on his face

Before either of the younger boys could react, they were in the hold of their older siblings

Jason has Tim in a light choke hold as he wipes his hand over Tim's face

Dick lifts Damian up and places an obnoxiously long kiss to the younger boy's cheek as Jason's phone gets thrown in an act of defense

Giggles continues laughing while looking between all the boys

Dick quickly sets Damian down and goes over and picks Giggles up to place kisses all over their face

Giggles tries pushing Dick away with a smile while saying that he was 'gross and sticky'

Dick keeps going while saying that it was funny before so why should he stop now

Giggles leaned away while reaching out to Bruce while exclaiming, "Daddy, help!"

Bruce grinned while taking the child into his arms before looking over at Jason and Tim

"Jason, let him breath."

All the boys settled down as Giggles let out a small yawn while leaning towards Bruce

He said it was time for bed, which Giggles said a small goodnight to everyone

Each of them also said goodnight as Bruce walked out of the room to go back upstairs

Making a stop to the bathroom to wipe off the whipped cream before heading straight to the child's bedroom

He placed his child on the bed while picking up the Batman toy and placing it beside Giggles

The toddler can barely keep their eyes open while gently hugging the toy closer

Bruce tucks the two in before placing a soft kiss to their hair with a soft goodnight

Turning the nightlight on and leaving the door slightly open, Bruce began to walk back down the stairs

Alfred waits for him at the bottom with a quirked brow as he asked what happened at the gala that night

Bruce shrugged while saying it wasn't going to really matter come morning

"Oh, that is a shame. Financial troubles or do we need to send condolences for an accident?"

"The agreement from most of the people that attended was bankruptcy."

Jason and Dick come walking by as the begin to loosen the ties and unbutton the top of their shirts

"Actually it's drugs. Apparently the police had a search warrant and went through his house and found large stashes in multiple different rooms."

Bruce looked over at Jason with skeptical eyes as he got an offended look in return

"When would I have done that in the span of three hours? I was with all of you the whole night! I need more time than that to do anything good!"

"Felt like something that would be a you type of thing."

Dick chuckled as he clasped Jason's shoulder

"Look at the brightside. That man is not built to withstand any form of prison life."

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 8.4k

chapter summary: you and javier go for a swim.

warnings: canon typical violence, no y/n, mentions of blood, nightmares, brief mentions of reader suffering from anxiety attacks pre outbreak, PTSD, more references to the main hbo tlou plot specifically episode 5, overall wholesome and full of fluff, mention of body hair, piv, vaginal fingering, dirty talking, biting, mild edging, one small mention of him threading his fingers through your hair but nothing else specified

a/n: it's all about communication, baby. It's a long one so get your warm drink of choice and settle in!

Semaphore - A signaling system used on railroads to communicate between trains and stations, typically using a system of flags or lights.

The cell was always so fucking cold. 

Javier hated being here, staring at the gray walls and reading that damn FEDRA sign over and over again all day long. He couldn’t help himself; it was right there within his eyesight. He wished it wasn't, that he could just rip it off and throw it in the corner.

YOUR RIGHTS WHILE IN DETENTION

YOU ARE ENTITLED TO:

LAWYER

MEDICAL ATTENTION 

FAMILY VISIT

FOOD

CLOTHING

Just a huge load of fucking bullshit. If you’re in here, you’re in here for one reason only: to give up names. Either that, or you never see the sight of daylight again. He took a sharp breath. With that, the man sitting across from him on the bench stiffened. A drop of water continuously dripped from the ceiling. Every time the sound echoed, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Javier preferred to be alone during interrogations.

A young man stood next to him. Unlike Javier, who was leaning against the cage, he stood fully upright and alert, rifle in hand. He glared daggers at the man sitting helplessly; his cheek was cut, and his right eye bruised. Javier wanted to place a hand on Adam’s shoulder and tell him to calm down, to let him know that this broken man was no threat to them. But he couldn't do that, not when he had to keep his mask on.

“What’s your name?” Javier asked the man, he scoffed in return. 

“You already know my name.” 

Javier sighed once again, and Adam narrowed his eyes. The newcomers were always like this: eager to put others in their place, eager for violence. FEDRA didn't teach them anything else, just how to take orders and to see the world in black and white. But that was another bullshit lie. Javier had told Carillo a million times that he didn't want anyone paired with him. Murphy was enough. However, like many things, his request was ignored.

There was just something starkly painful about seeing a nineteen- or eighteen year old so eager to kill.

I want to hear it from you," Javier spoke calmly as he pushed himself away from the fence and took a step closer. The man cowered back. "If you tell me what I want to hear, we won't hurt you.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by a meek whisper of a name: Martin. Javier swallowed, realizing that this man would probably give away all the information they asked for, if he had the information to give.

“Alright, Martin," Javier said, taking slow steps and kneeling in front of him. Adam was right behind him, standing and being as menacing as ever. "I need you to tell me who is a part of this..." Javier made air quotes with his fingers, causing Martin to flinch. "...'Resistance'."

“I don’t know anythin’ about that.” 

"Are you sure?" Javier asked with a raised eyebrow. "Not even a whisper?"

Javier heard Adam puffing up his chest and almost rolled his eyes. But he didn't look away; he kept his gaze fixed on Martin. He liked using silence as a tactic. He just stared, watching the other man sweat. It was clear to him that Martin was protecting someone. Javier could tell by the way Martin's tongue poked inwardly from one cheek to another; he was having trouble meeting Javier's gaze.

“You won’t be getting out of here,” he said, keeping his voice even. “If you don’t tell me who’s leading it.” 

"I can't," he murmured, looking down at Javier's knees. "I won't."

Shit. This wasn't good.

Adam shifted from one leg to another, fidgeting with his rifle. A chill settled at the base of Javier's spine.

"Fucking answer the question," Adam spat, pointing the rifle. "Or we'll blow your head off. Ungrateful shit."

The worst part of all this was that Javier couldn't stop Adam if he were to do something. Stopping him meant blowing his cover and revealing that he cared about these so-called "traitors." Javier hissed between clenched teeth and nearly gave Martin a pleading look.

Javier averted his gaze at the last second. And with a heave, he stood up, towering over the man. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to give us the name?” he asked one last time. “Any name.” 

Martin shook his head.

Javier wakes with a jolt. He hears something akin to a whimper. A cry. He slowly rises from his bed, his eyes moving toward the curtain that stretches in the middle of the car, making two sections. Their setup isn’t perfect yet, but the curtain accompanied by the beds gave a sense of home and belonging. He attempts to rub the sleep away from his eyes, his mind was still in a deep sleep, a fog slowing his thoughts and reason. 

Another whimper follows, and Javier's thighs quiver as he stands up. He reaches for the curtain, slowly pulling it aside.

There you are, crying in your sleep. Half of your face is tucked into the dirty pillow as your body contorts in the most unnatural ways. Javier's eyes follow the curves of your body: one knee nearly touching your chest while your other leg is straight like a stick, tense. Sweat makes your shirt cling to your skin. Moonlight trickles in from the freshly cleaned windows, giving you an almost ethereal glow.

Javier steps closer. This isn't the first time you've had a nightmare. And he's certain that you've also been awoken from sleep by his own night terrors. You probably wouldn’t believe him, but he hates seeing you like this. He can’t help but blame himself. He wonders how many more people were suffering due to the system he’s been a part of for so long. 

He takes a gentle seat on the bed, bringing your head to his lap, he makes himself comfortable. Again, this isn’t the first time he’d done this. 

Your whimpers and crying slowly subside, drifting into soft sniffles. Your tear streaks dry as you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh. He’s happy to see that this still works. You loosely wrap your arms around him, tugging him closer. Javier obliges shifting nearer. 

In a moment of impulse, he finds himself reaching out for the blanket that you had kicked away in your frenzied attempt to escape your nightmares. The seasonal shift worries him. They’re not ready for the cruel temperature drop yet. 

Javier pulls the blanket and you seem to melt at the warmth, your body becoming pliant over his lap. He adores seeing you like this. Your face softens, the tension that had hardened it dissolving.

Javier wants to hold you like this when you’re awake too. He thinks that you’d enjoy it, he never received any complaints about it before. His thumb moves down your cheek, he feels the scars he can’t see, and soon the pad of his thumb moves to your neck, your pulse thrumming under his touch. 

A deep inhale expands his lungs, he leans back. His head hits the glass with a thud. Javier licks his lips, his fingers start to twitch. He wants to smoke. 

By some miracle, he hadn’t touched a single cigarette all day, but that was only because he was going to be running out soon. What the hell was he supposed to do then? Chew on a straw? Like a cowboy?

He smiles at his own joke, his palm resting on your shoulder. He’s glad he’s not afraid of this. The apocalypse has made him a brave man. You’re probably more afraid of this attraction than he is. He can see it in your eyes; you hold his gaze for a beat too long, your hands lingering on his skin as if searching for something. He can’t help the boost of ego he gets from how you behave. He smiles every time he catches you but you miss it, turning your head away in a fit of panic.

A soft snore parts your lips and you bury your face deeper into his legs. Javier swallows, a thick knot in his throat as he feels his dick twitching under his zipper. 

He lets out another deep sigh. It’s going to be a long night. 

You find Javier outside, leaning against the train with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Holding your head, and still feeling a bit groggy, you join him. But instead of staying upright, you drop to the dirt, crossing your legs as you rest your back against the cool metal. 

“You saw a nightmare last night,” he says nonchalantly.

“Did I?” you ask, looking between the fence chain. “Sorry.” 

Your crinkle your nose when you inhale smoke instead of oxygen. Javier notices and tucks the hand holding the death stick between his waist and the train. It’s a chilly morning and you hug your coat tight around you. 

“I didn’t say that for you to apologize. I was trying to ask if you’re alright.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t really get that from what you said.” you answer, with a smile you rest the crown of your head against his knee. He stiffens, but other than that says nothing. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember what I saw if I’m being honest. Probably just a shit ton of death.” 

“That good old apocalypse classic.” Javier nods, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “Can’t live without it.” 

“So what’s the plan for today?” 

He shifts his weight from one foot to another, he slightly slides them forward, burying the soles further into the grass. Much similar to yours, the tips of his boots are worn out around the corners. It would be great to find some new ones. But wearing—taking someone else's boots isn’t easy. As if there isn’t enough death going around, you had to be reminded of it in every uncomfortable step. 

“I was thinking we go for a swim.” 

“A swim?” 

Javier laughs at the sound of your shock. His leg presses into your shoulder and you enjoy the heat, a small smile of your own blossoming. He crouches over, balancing himself by leaning against you. Your gaze is fixed ahead. If you look at him, you fear he might see right through you. He’s too observant not to hear your heartbeat. 

“Blue River isn’t that far off from where we are,” he explains. “Winter’s coming, it would be good to get clean thoroughly. And we should at least try to stock up on water too. I know rain and snow is an option but still, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.” 

“Guess not,” you murmur, looking up to the sky. 

“You have something against swimming? It’ll be fun. And, most importantly, distracting.” 

Your eyes widen, and your pulse skyrockets. He thought about this plan. He heard you crying in your sleep, woke up, went outside, and thought about something to do to cheer you up. You don’t remember the last time someone offered you their thoughtfulness. On your birthday, the third year you’d joined the fireflies, Amy had brought you a twinkie with a burning stick stabbed into it. And that was it. No one actually thought about your feelings. 

God, you missed it. 

It’s like a hug. A caress from the wind. The sun on your skin. It feels like breathing again. There’s no weight on your chest, because he’s helping you lift it. Someone fucking cares. A giggle bubbles up from your chest. Tears sting your eyes. Your head falls back against the train with a thud and you breathe out; fuck. You’re ridiculous. But Javier doesn’t seem to care. He’s just looking at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes, brows pinched in the middle. 

Heat coils in your stomach, searing, burning up your insides. 

“What do you suggest we swim in? Our underwear?” you tease without much thought. 

You don’t expect to see the mischief in his eyes, the hints of arousal splattered over dark irises like stars in the night sky. You swallow. He must’ve sensed it because he leans in, slowly, lips only an inch away from your parted ones. Javier takes a deep inhale, those same eyes you love, and hate, drop to your lips. 

You shudder. 

“Whatever the rebel is comfortable in,” he murmurs, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “If you don’t want your panties getting wet, might be better to take them off.” 

The drop of his voice. The heat of his breath. Emotions spin wildly in your head, forcing you to be the one to take the metaphorical step back. Which is just you turning your head back to the fence. It doesn’t do much. You can still feel his breath fanning your cheek. It’s hard to hide the hitch of your breath, your chest rises up with the inhale you take, and, fuck, you just know he’s looking at your breasts. His gaze like a branding iron. 

“I think I’ll keep my panties on, thank you very much,” you manage to choke out, the tremble of your voice too noticeable to ignore. “But, hey, if you want to flash the clickers out there be my guest, handsome.” 

“Handsome?” 

Shitshitshit. 

You practically jump as you get up, and head inside the train. You hear him laugh, something dark and possessive lingering underneath. 

“Let’s just go!” you call out. “I don’t want to be outside the fence when the sun goes down.” 

Sex has been something you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about for a long time. 

But now, as you’re standing under a giant oak tree, your shirt on the ground and pants unbuttoned, you’re reminded of how enticing the mere thought of sex can be. Javier’s already in the water, head bobbing up and down with the waves with his hair slicked back. Before he went in, you got a good look at him—before the outbreak, you might’ve been shyer about it. Maybe you would’ve turned your gaze away with heated cheeks. You still had the latter going on, but you most certainly didn’t shy away with your obvious ogling. 

You might be dead the next day. No need to turn your sight away from something beautiful. 

And Javier is just that. The epitome of beauty. 

Javier stripping in front of you will forever be engraved in your mind; he shrugged off his plaided shirt and kicked off his pants, only leaving him in a black undershirt and his boxers. He was surprisingly lean and muscular, he wasn’t a big man, but he wasn’t quite the opposite either. You were surprised to see him jumping into the water with his undershirt, you tucked the question for a later conversation. 

He swims closer to you, resting his elbows above the soil. His gaze blatantly exploring your newly exposed skin. 

“So you ever plan on getting in, perla? Or are you planning on stealing my clothes and leaving me here?” 

A snort bubbles from the back of your throat. “You poor thing. That happened to you?” 

“Maybe,” he grins and pushes himself back enough so the back of his head is submerged in running water. “Just get in.” 

Finally, with a burst of unfounded courage, you kick off your boots and pants. The chill of the forest embraces your skin. With a pleasant tingle buzzing in your muscles, you walk ankle-deep into the water. You try not to think about your old bra, or your underwear that is scattered with small holes. You especially don’t think about the small hairs dusted above your legs and other patches of skin. 

You swallow. The knot in your throat makes it difficult. 

You wade further into the river, the cool water embracing your skin, as you turn to him with a hint of uncertainty in your voice. 'Perla?' you ask, and he responds with a fluid motion, gliding effortlessly above the water, following you. 

“It means pearl.” he answers, not giving much explanation. 

You drop yourself into the water, your head submerged along with your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you feel the water rushing around you. The river sings to you in a beautiful hum. Javier is moving somewhere in the water, you can sense his presence. You want to open your eyes, but sadly that is one of the skills you can’t seem to force yourself to gain. You wonder if the water is muddy or crystal clear. You like to think it’s the latter. 

You rise to the surface and take in a deep breath of fresh air. You wipe your eyes with the heels of your palm, ringing the excess water from your brows and lashes. 

“I know what perla means,” you murmur, blinking at him. “I was trying to ask why you called me that.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t really get that from what you said.” he grins, his answer a reminder of this morning. “To answer your question, I don’t really have a satisfying one. I just like pearls and it just came out. I won’t call you that if you don’t want me to.” 

Moving your feet, you move upright to face him. Water drops trickle down his sunkissed skin, rolling down his cheeks and down to his neck. Momentarily your eyes drop to his lips, only for you to pull them back up again. Meeting his gaze, you move closer, the heat of his skin plausible despite the cool water running between you two. 

“No, I like it.” you answer, you swear your heart nearly stops. “I was just curious.” 

You’re not sure if it’s the water or him, but he’s closer. Your pebbled nipples graze against his chest. You suck in a sharp breath. 

“When I was a kid, I didn’t have the toughest stomach. I would get sick from almost everything,” he explains. It’s hard to focus on his words when he’s so close. “My abuela— let her soul rest in peace— had these crazy remedies. She would use crushed pearls and mix it with honey or ginger, to make a weird paste thing. Then she would make me eat it. It tasted like shit but supposedly it was supposed to make my nausea go away.” 

“Did it?” you ask. Your eyes are wide with innocent, child-like, curiosity. Javier is a natural storyteller. It’s hard not to get sucked into the cadence of his voice. 

He shakes his head, laughing. You feel his breath on your cheeks and you lean in. Only a trickle of water moves between you two now. 

“It did not, obviously. But I believe it did. I still do. And no matter how bad it tasted and how much I complained…I still took my chances.” 

“So you decided to name me after a remedy that doesn’t work?” 

“No. I named you after a remedy that I believe works. And I’ll take it, every time.” 

In the quiet moment between blinks, the world seems to pause. Your eyelids, like two curtains, draw gently closed and then part again. His words heavy in the clear air. It's a fleeting moment, barely noticeable, and that’s when it happens. 

You feel his lips, warm and wet pressing against your mouth. It’s such a simple motion. A tender closeness. Nothing more, nothing less. You don’t even taste his tongue and he’s already pulling back. With a moment of panic, you chase him, capturing his lips once more in a more heated kiss. 

That’s when you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you closer underwater, your bodies swimming in unison. He inhales you. And you him. You don’t remember the last time you kissed someone or the last time you thought about it. You groan as his tongue cheats between your lips, your own hands white-knuckled as you hold onto his shoulders. 

Javier’s hands grab at your ass, kneading the soft flesh and tracing the crease between them with the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, he’s towering over you, pushing himself further above the waterline as he claims your lips again and again, sucking the air from your lungs and garnering you breathless. 

It's not you or him, not really, but rather the river that pushes you apart. A wave rises up, and crashes down. Water rushes into your mouth and nose, filling your lungs with a bitter, icy taste. You're forced back, coughing and gasping for air, as the wave pulls you away from each other. 

You move to the riverside, grasping at the slippery rocks. You wait for your breathing to return to normal. Javier’s hands are on your back in an instant, soothing you before they slip in front to rest on your stomach. His chest is flush against your back. You take a shaky inhale and let out a deep breath. 

“Are you alright?” he asks and you can barely hear him from the blood rush in your ears. 

“I’m fine.” you gasp. “You—You kissed me. Why?” 

You’re happy he can’t see your face. The question sounds so juvenile, so unimportant. What did it matter why he kissed you? He did and that was that, and you liked it. 

“Instinct. Felt like you needed a kiss.” 

You choke out a burst of laughter. Your eyes sting from, what you hope, the water of the river. “Asshole. Don’t try to make it seem like it was for my benefit.” 

“I’m willing to say it was for both our benefits.” 

“So, it was a one time thing then?” 

“Not if you don’t want it to be.” 

You turn around and his arms cage you in. You’re smiling. And it’s not the smile you make when you’re awkward, or angry, or sad—it’s genuine. You’re heart feels light and if the beat of it wasn’t steady, you would’ve thought it disappeared. It feels foreign. 

Javier rolls his hips, the outline of his cock leaving little to the imagination. It sends electricity up your spine, blinding, and mind-numbing. He’s grinning at you in a way a confident man does when he knows what he’s doing. His face dips into the hallow of your neck. Small, ticklish kisses are left upon your burning skin. With a shudder, your hands tug at the hem of his undershirt. 

“Why do you still have this on?” you whine, smiling against his lips. “Can I take it off?” 

He tenses under your palms and you stop. His lips are above your pulse, which makes it hard to differentiate the line between right and wrong. Your fingertips buzz with the need to touch and take. His tongue sneaks from between his lips and licks a line up the column, nipping at your jaw. 

“Would it kill the mood if I said no?” 

You retract your hands and your fingers smooth over the fabric, tugging it down. Your lips part with a soft whimper, arousal gushing between your legs and fading into the water. It wouldn’t kill the mood, no, not when you’re so worked up. But it does make you think. Maybe this isn’t the perfect way to go about this, whatever perfect means in this day and age. There’s still so much you don’t know about him. Your feelings are a whirlwind, threatening to throw you up into the sky and leave you to crash down into the earth. 

Your meek sounds of pleasure subside. Javier senses your hesitation. He peels himself unwillingly from your neck and stares fixes you with a leveled gaze. 

“You want to get out?” 

Entranced, you nod. Your heart beats in your throat, uncomfortable and larger than life itself.  

“Yeah,” you answer, a beat above a whisper. “That’s probably for the best.” 

“Understood.” 

There’s a deep stillness in his eyes. With a dry mouth, all you can do is parrot his answer back to him. 

“Understood.” 

“What do you miss the most?” 

The grass beneath you is soft and cool against your skin, the wind blows warm. A blessing considering the growing cold. The earth is comfortable against your back, a welcomed reprieve from the warmth of the sun above. You feel the trickle of water, your skin damp and pliant from the droplets that still cling to you.

The sun's gentle warmth kisses your skin, the light filtered through rustling leaves. The branches dance and tease, occasionally catching your gaze and tugging you away from the clouds overhead. You can’t help but smile. A memory reminiscent of the days you would do absolutely nothing. 

Javier's body lies perpendicular to yours, his face only a breath away. You feel the warmth radiating from his skin, his gaze looking up to the sky, and you wonder what the clouds remind him of. The sun caresses his skin, drying the water droplets that cling to him, much like it does to you.

“What do I miss,” he hums, thoughtful, eyes fluttering shut. “Having a purpose, I guess.” 

“A purpose?” 

A breathy chuckle escapes his lips. “It’s a bit silly I know, but before FEDRA, I was working in the DEA. My life was always hectic, but at least back then I could argue I was doing good. I was helping people. I liked thinking that I had a noble purpose in life. No matter what happened.” 

You turn your head to look at him, taking in his profile against the backdrop of the sky. He slowly opens his eyes, fixes them to the sky. A deep exhale leaves his lungs. 

“But now that I think about it, what I did wasn’t really noble back then either. I wish I spent more time with my family. It wouldn’t have been exciting, and I’d probably be bored out of my mind helping dad in the ranch, but at least I would’ve been happier.” 

You push your hand towards him and shudder at the way his knuckles brush against yours. Your fingers intertwine, his rough callouses fitting perfectly between the spaces of yours.

“What I’m hearing is you were an adrenaline junkie.” 

Your smile widens into a grin when he snorts. 

“Perhaps I was.” he muses. “What about you? What do you miss?” 

“I’m afraid my answer is less philosophical than yours,” What did you miss? You haven’t really thought about it, until now. Family and friends feel like an obvious answer. But you always felt lonely, even before the outbreak. You suffered from weird attacks you never got diagnosed, and when you attempted to explain them by calling them “something like a panic attack” you were always shut down, being told that if it was a panic attack, it would be far more serious. 

So, naturally, you closed up. Simmered in the heavy weight on your chest, crying with your hand between your legs, hoping someone one day would show up and close up the gap that you felt. You were so lonely.  But that person never came along, and then the world ended. 

“Cooking.” you answer, gauging his reaction. He squeezes your hand, thumb moving in circles on your skin. “Well, baking to be precise. I loved baking. Coffee—god, music, I miss music.” 

“Music,” he agrees. “I miss that too. Maybe if we find a guitar or something…” 

“You know how to play?” you perk up, a grin ready to take form. 

His laughter comes at the same time as the wind. The blends seamlessly with the rustling of leaves and the gentle sway of branches. It vibrates in your bones, as though his laughter is a part of the very fabric of nature itself.

“No, but I can learn. Some noise is better than none.” 

“Yeah,” you answer, seamlessly. “It is.” 

Javier was being followed. He walked past the broken-down toy shop, his steps now faster. He could feel the gaze that watched his every step. It was the crack of the morning, which was the only time he and Micheal could meet. Everything was becoming a mess of badly executed plans with feeling motifs. Every nerve felt like a live wire. It was hard sneaking around. Especially when you lived in a time where even the walls had eyes. 

“Peña!”

Javier jumped and turned, gun pointing at whoever was behind him. He saw the sight of familiar green eyes, then let out a breath. 

“Adam?” putting his gun back, he cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell are you following me for?” 

“I wasn’t following you,” he answered, almost offended. “I was looking for you. Murph brought in a lead we might be able to use and Carillo wanted me to let you know.” 

Javier nodded, ignoring the younger man’s curiosity-filled gaze. When they started to move, much to his annoyance, Adam began to voice out his rather loud thoughts. 

“What are you doing here anyway? You weren’t posted here, you were meant to patrol the east side.” 

“Felt like a walk,” he grunted. “And I don’t answer to you, pendejo.” 

Javier and Adam walked in silence as they made their way toward the Fedra headquarters. The old building was barely holding up, with paint peeling off the walls and cracks running through the ceiling. The air inside was stale and smelled of musty old books, a reminder of the once-functioning library that the Fedra headquarters used to be.

They were greeted by Carillo and Murphy, who led them to the interrogation room. A string of curses raised all the way up to the tip of his tongue. On the other side of the glass, a man was sitting down, someone he recognize very vaguely. The man was young-ish, with curly black hair and a mustache supported by a messily shaved beard. His leg bobbed up and down nervously as he waited.

Carillo grinned as he gestured towards the glass. "This is Henry. Apparently, he's willing to give us information in exchange for medicine for his younger brother."

“Is that so,” Javier answered, his gaze never leaving Henry. “And what information might that be?”

The room was small and cramped, with peeling wallpaper and a flickering lightbulb. Javier noticed a small crack in the wall that seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in this dilapidated building, with its creaking floors and musty air.

“The leader of the resistance. He’s going to help us catch him.” 

The corner of Javier’s lips twitched as he forced a smile. He could barely contain the heave of his chest, the fast-paced breaths he so desperately wanted to let out. 

His mind raced. Everything was about to get a hell of a lot worse. 

Your eyes are wide open, your body stiff and alert. 

It’s been a while since you and Javier decided to go to bed. Moonlight filtered through the windows, long shadows of leaves moving across the ceiling of the train. You breathe slowly; one breath in, a long breath out. You hear him. He’s mumbling something in his sleep, moving, thrashing over his bed, the springs squeaking under his weight. 

On nights like this, you try to ignore it. But it’s different this time. Memories of earlier today flood your mind; him kissing you in the river, his length pressed against the softness of your stomach, his lust-blown pupils. Then there was the moment where you laid on the grass, talking for hours with your fingers interlaced until you had to leave. You don’t have it in you to abandon him. For him to fend off the nightmares alone. 

Just hearing the sounds he makes…so full of pain, raw and emotional— there’s no way you can go back to sleep. 

Heading to his side of the car, you silently watch him. Again, he’s wearing his black undershirt and a pair of boxers. He’s laying on his stomach, one leg outstretched and one curled to the side. One hand is on the pillow whilst the other is balled into a tight fist, touching his lips. A choked whimper comes from the back of his throat. 

“Javier,” you call out, taking a step forward. “Javier wake up.” 

He doesn’t. So you try again. This time you reach out, the heat of your palm pressing into the slope of his shoulder. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to touch someone who’s buried deep in a nightmare. Especially in this day and age. 

“Jav—” 

Your reaction is close to none when you find yourself thrown to the bed, a sharp blade at your neck, drawing the smallest amount of blood. You breathe steadily. His fingers have your wrist in an iron grip, and the look in his eyes— deranged, still wet from the mirages of his past. The physical outburst isn’t enough to phase you, but the look in his eyes surely is. 

“It’s me,” you whisper, careful not to touch him. His jaw is locked, nostrils flaring with heavy breaths. “You were seeing a nightmare. It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just you and me—Perla, remember?” 

“Perla,” he repeats slowly, lips remaining parted as he stares down at you. “Mi Perla.” 

The silence stretches between you two. Both of your heartbeats echo loud between the metal walls. Blood continues to trickle down your neck, staining the worn out sheets. His eyes drop to the wound, the small cut, and as if scorched, he throws the knife. It crashes to the floor with a loud clatter. The sound makes you jerk, a moment of fear evident enough for him to see. 

“Sorry.” he blurts out. “Fuck—shit—I…I didn’t mean to. Force of habit.” he shakes his head, his entire body trembling. “Are you okay? I didn’t—Why did you—” 

You raise your hand and his mumbling fades away. Your fingers hover an inch away from his face, you can almost feel the heat, the sweat that gathered in his pores. You give him a pleading look. 

“Can I?” Can I touch you?

He chokes out, “Yes.” Please do.

You rest your hand against his cheek. Just as you expected, his skin is damp. Your thumb rests right under his eye and you caress the soft skin. You’re surprised that he leans into your touch, seeking more of the comfort you promise to provide. You close your eyes and sigh.  You allow your hand to slide to his neck, smoothing out the nooks and crannies in his shoulder.

Javier groans as he dips down, you feel his lips on your neck, tongue darting to clean the blood. A whimper escapes you when he tenderly kisses the wound, his mouth moving slowly, gradually. Like he’s kissing your mouth. Heat coils in your stomach. Arousal pools between your legs. You play with the short hairs that are mussed against the back of his neck. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, breathless. 

He shakes his head, his voice stern. “No.” 

So you don’t. 

Javier crashes into you, breathing you in. It’s desperate, needy, and fearful. In fear of what—you’re not sure, but you have some guesses. 

You throw away your shirt and in a fit, you kick off your sweatpants. Even those brief moments of being a part are too much for you to handle, you drink him in like you would a fine wine. Your lips crashing into his again and again. 

You moan into his mouth and he swallows them all. Sucking your tongue between his teeth, he nips the soft muscle and squeezes your hips, grinding himself against your clothed sex. Your fingers trace the fabric of his shirt, tugging, but not attempting to remove it. He licks your bottom lip before breaking away from you, he sits back on his knees. 

“Sorry,” he says. “You must think I’m trying to be all mysterious. I swear I’m not.” 

“I wasn’t thinking that. You don’t have to remove it if you don’t want to,” your eyes drop to his crotch, a grin tugging at your lips as you witness the bulge. You drag your foot up his thigh. He shudders. “All we need is down here.” 

“Aren’t you charming,” his tongue thoughtfully moves over his bottom lip. You sigh as you remember how it felt against your own. “Just promise me you won’t ask any questions. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it.” 

You make a cross over your heart and raise your hand, he chuckles. 

“Alright then.” 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but you’re acting a bit like you’re in heat. He slowly peels the fabric off and your hands immediately find a spot on his waist. Your mouth waters at the exposed skin. You smooth your palms over his stomach, your lips pursing to leave kiss after kiss over his torso. 

You notice it as you start leaning over. Your eyes drawn to the massive white scar that runs from Javier’s heart all the way down to his Adonis belt. It stands out starkly against his tanned skin. Your breath catches in your throat. The veins in your temples throb loudly in your ears. With a dry mouth, you look up to him and he sees the questions in your eyes. 

“You promised.” 

Fuck, you did but you’re regretting it now.

You’re used to small scars, a bullet wound, or two. Everyone has them, including you. But you’ve never seen a scar this big. It’s death carved into his skin. Your mind races and he fixes you a steady gaze. This cut wasn’t from Kathleen and the resistance, so it must’ve happened before that. But what on earth would leave a scar so big? And how the hell did he survive it? 

Your cheeks feeling unbearably warm, you finally tear your gaze away. You feel his fingers thread through your hair, and they slowly move down to your shoulder, an ache for skin on skin contact. 

You dip down, press your lips above the end of his scar, you feel the dip of his adonis through your mouth. Javier inhales deeply and sharply. Ignoring the heaving of his chest, you dart your tongue out and lick a steady line, following the traces of the closed wound. His nails bite into your scalp, his hips stutter forward, the outline of his cock caught against the curve of your shoulder. 

Words die on your tongue. You want to say something, you’re just not sure what. If you apologized, expressed grief for his past, he would think of it as pity. If you asked about it, he’d say you’ve broken your promise. 

So you thank him instead. 

Javier enjoys that. He pushes his hands between the crease of your underarms and pulls you up, kissing you breathless. He squeezes the meat of your ass and pins you against him. You whine into his mouth. With a grin, he bites your bottom lip and tugs it between his teeth. 

“I want to taste you.” 

“Fuck, Javi,” your eyes roll back and you shudder. Your underwear sticks uncomfortably to your pussy, and it pains you that you’re shaking your head. “As much as I want that…I need your cock.” 

Javier cups your mound, fingers digging into your clothed folds. You gasp when the rough fabric brushes against your clit. You brace yourself by holding his shoulder and pressing your lips into his neck. 

“You’re so wet, shit, baby.” he groans as he grinds his hips, you whimper. “How are you this worked up already? When was the last time you’ve been with someone?” 

Your sudden hesitation to answer earns you an understanding gaze from him. Javier pulls back slightly, the movements of his fingers more gentle. 

“It’s been long,” you whisper and look away. 

“How long?”

“None after the outbreak and even before that...two years.”

He snorts and you fix him a not so serious glare. 

“Don’t pity me. It’s not all bad. I learned how to get rather creative when masturbating.”

“I’m sure you have,” he answers, staring at your darkly. “Can’t wait to see it.”

Javier drags his nose up your neck, you’re positive he can hear how excited you are. Like your heart is about to stop. 

“Say it again,” he grunts. “Tell me how bad you want my cock.” 

You sigh. “So bad.” 

“Mi Perla…I thought you learned how to get creative.” 

He sinks his teeth into your neck and you cry out, your entire body quivering as he holds you upright. He’s quick to lap at the teeth marks, lowering his head, he pushes you back so he can swirl his tongue over your peaked nipple. Arousal gushes between your legs. Your nails digging into his shoulders. 

“Please,” you whisper. “Please, fuck me Javier. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life. I want you to fill me up with that big cock of yours, fucking me into submission—” 

The last addition stumbled out of your lips, stunning you into sudden silence. You awkwardly stare up at the ceiling, shadows of trees moving and mocking you. Heat spreads under your skin. You don’t realize how tense you are until Javier nips the swell of your breasts, bringing you back to him. His fingers pull at your chin and you find yourself looking into his big brown eyes. 

Your eyes drop to the curve of his lips, and you stop breathing. 

“Fuck you into submission hmm?” he taunts, his pupils blown wide. “Looks like the little firefly is tired of being a hardened criminal.” 

“Shuddup,” you pout, averting your gaze. “Don’t read much into it. I said it in the heat of the moment.” 

“Sure you did, sweetheart.” 

Javier hooks his fingers into your thighs and suddenly you’re falling back down, the old bed creaking with protest. Before you can say anything, his weight presses into you like a heavy blanket. You moan at the heat, the feel of his skin against yours. His lips latch onto a nipple and you spread your legs wide for him, the soft ache in your thighs making your cunt drip. 

“Let’s see if you’re ready to take my big cock,” he rasps, fingers moving to slide your sticky panties to the side. “You want my fingers, baby?” 

You nod and he clicks his tongue with disapproval. 

“If you want me to fuck you into submission, you gotta use your words.” 

You finally snap.

“God, yes. I want your fingers. How many times am I going to have to say it? I want you, Javier. I’m going to explode if you don’t fuck me soon.” 

He grins at your frustration. Two thick fingers slide up between your wet folds, circling your clit. You gasp, teary eyes fluttering shut. His lips touch one, then the other. Then you feel him on your cheeks, nose, neck. You tremble. 

“Don’t tempt me.” 

Two of his fingers sink into your heat without warning, your head falls back with a moan, your legs tight around his frame. Shit, it feels good. Of course he’s good at fingering, god forbid Javier Peña is bad at anything. Your breathing becomes fast paced, your heart beating a mile in your chest. Scissoring his fingers, Javier nips at your chin. Heat coils tight in your stomach. You whimper his name, not knowing what else to do. One part of you is afraid. If you’re feeling this unbridled with just his fingers, what the hell is going to happen to you when he gives you his cock? 

Your fear goes unnoticed by him. He curls his fingers, applies pressure right where you need him. His eyes follow your every expression. You can feel it. Licking your lips, you raise your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers, Javier hums his approval and fucks them deeper. His knuckles brush your aching clit and you scream out, your fingers grabbing his wrist. 

“Too much?” he asks, but his tone lacks any actual remorse. He sounds pleased. 

Asshole. 

“Javi,” your breath hitches and you push yourself off the bed, pressing your lips right where his scar starts. Above his heart. “I need you.” 

The growl Javier lets out reverberates through his chest, sending tremors through the air and into your bones. It’s a visceral sound, primal and raw. Your lips follow the outline of his jaw. He acts like a beast, nuzzling towards your lips and grinding his molars together. 

He pulls out his fingers, a whine ripping from your throat at the sudden emptiness. His mouth brushes the shell of your ear.

“Good thing about being in an abandoned train,” he says, warm breath fanning your damp skin. You shiver. “You can be as loud as you want to.” 

Javier’s hand comes up to your chest and he pushes you back down. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks down at his cock and spits. He wraps a hand around himself, meeting your gaze as he strokes his cock. You hold your breath as he comes closer, every nerve alive and burning.  The head of his cock sinks into your heat, and you both let out a long, breathless moan. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” you groan, head falling back. “Fuck, that feels good. Holy shit–”   

“It does,” he hums, capturing your lips and speaking between moments of exchanged breaths. “And this is only the tip, querida.” 

With every inch being buried, you feel your body sinking further into the bed. You feel like lead. Pleasure skims your skin. With shallow thrusts, he works you open, stretching you wide. He nips at your collarbone, the sensitive skin tucked between his teeth, he pushes further until he’s flushed against you. 

You’re shaking, your hips frantically trembling and jerking. Javier waits for you to adjust to his size. He’s incredibly deep. So deep that saliva floods your mouth, a bit of spit trailing down the corner of your lips as you cry out. He flexes his cock, and more slick trickles down your thighs. Your hands frantically pull him closer, as if he wasn’t already flushed against your chest, but he obliges, allowing his weight to fully cave down on you. 

“I’m here,” he mutters. You don’t expect the sudden sting of tears filling your lash line. “We’re both alive. We’re both okay.” 

Your walls flutter around him, and he lets out a sharp breath. Meeting his gaze, you blink. 

A sudden guilt consumes you. You should be the one consoling him. He’s the one that was woken up from a nightmare. It should be you saying those things. Not the other way around. But Javier doesn’t seem to mind. He squeezes your hip and pushes himself upright. 

“Can I move?” 

“Please.” 

He slowly rolls his hips, watching his cock disappear into your quivering cunt with heavy lids, a white ring at the thick base. When your hands aimlessly attempt to grab at him, he takes a hold of your wrists, using your arms as a leash. 

“Messy girl,” he huffs, grinding deeper into you. Your eyes roll back. “You’re taking me so well, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me, I love it.” 

A fire builds in your core, slick sounds flooding the small space. Pulling out almost all the way, Javier slams back into you, emptying the air from your lungs. His pace becomes more frantic and desperate with every thrust. Your arms ache as he yanks your body to meet the flush of his hips. The wry hairs at the base of his cock sending jolts up your body, your clit aching from the rough drag of it. You cry out his name, over and over, repeating it like a chant. His cock throbs at the squeak of your voice. Javier buries himself completely inside, grinding himself impossibly deep, stroking the sensitive spot inside. 

You’re not going to last, and if the shallow stuttering of his hips is any indication, Javier isn’t going to last either. You dig your nails into your sweaty palms. His fingers still tight around your throbbing wrists. 

“Kiss me,” you beg with a choked moan. 

And he does. Breathlessly. Again and again. The lack of oxygen makes your head spin. His lips are so soft, so tender. He licks into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. He lets go of your wrists and cups your breasts, rolling the peaked flesh with his thumbs. Your orgasm crests over you like a tide, your chest stammers, your breath catching in your throat. Your muscles go stiff, and then relax again. His cock twitches as you gush around him, slick pouring between your legs and wetting the mattress underneath. 

With clenched teeth, your body arches into him and you bear your neck. He bites into the offered flesh, blossoms of pain making your walls clench around him. Javier moans, laps at your salty skin, groaning, his hips jerk—deeper and deeper—until he becomes still. 

Your entire body is lit aflame as he spills into you. Instinctively, your hands cover your face, soft whimpers seeping into the heat of your palms. His cock pulses, and your muscles tense as you milk him for every last drop, your cunt clenching and fluttering around him. 

Javier smooths his lips over your knuckles, kissing the back of your hands as you slowly come down from your high. Breathing heavily, you allow your arms to go limp and fall. His eyes flit between your lips and eyes, he dips down to claim your mouth in a less draining kiss. 

“That was great,” he breathes into your mouth. “How are you feeling, perla?” 

“Like a hundred bucks,” you answer, grinning. “I forgot how good sex can be.” 

Your smile falters when he pulls out. Now that the heat of your orgasm is fading, you’re not sure what to do. Your body feels nice and limp, and god, you do not want to move. 

His seed trickles down your folds and you let out a soft gasp, your pussy fluttering. Javier seems to enjoy that, he grins and spreads your legs. 

“Bonita.” he purrs, dipping his thumb into the mess. Your head falls. “I’ll get you cleaned up in the morning.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” you answer, making a show of getting up. Javier frowns and wraps his fingers around your ankle, it’s not a tight grip, he’s just holding you. Your gaze drops. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“You can sleep here,” he drags the pads of his fingers up your legs and you shudder. “With me.” 

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.” 

“Believe me,” he says, voice dipping. “This is no bother.” 

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ok but know I need you to Tell Me Things about the Zeldas. all of them. I am literally*bouncing*.

(I love how both your TP Link and Zelda have RBF. they have truly Had It)

HEHE sorry i held onto this ask until I had all the Zelda designs posted, and then I,,,forgot to do that lol.

some Bonus Zelda thoughts! some of this i've maybe said before idk:

ALTTP Zelda

her armor is more ceremonial than practical. While I didn't give this to every Queen Zelda, I liked the idea of the princess's pauldrons progressing to more plate armor in the queen's dress. That's also why I changed her color scheme to blue to differentiate from the princess' pink (exceptions for this being HW Zelda who wears red as queen, ST Zelda who still wears pink as queen and BOTW Zelda who wore blue as princess)

anyway. she's more of a scholar than a warrior but she still has killer aim with a bow

her pet project has been recovering, restoring, and filling in the gaps of the royal library and archive. Mage helps her out with this as he has a knack for stumbling upon forgotten ancient texts in his travels

A lot of ppl assume she's rather prim or austere but she's actually got a lot of whimsy and humor in her. It's why she and Mage get along so well :D

She lets Mage get away with a lot of shenanigans and keeps the royal guard from arresting his ass all the time

if mage is ur weird uncle she's like. ur cool aunt

Tetra

she's still sailing the seas with her crew!

she and Wake have had a bit of a falling out though, partially over disagreements about searching for New Hyrule, and have gone their separate ways for now. There's not any real animosity between them, just like,,,frustration. They'd still do anything for each other.

She's got 2 pistols and a cutlass and she knows how to use them

She could bench press Wake. easily.

She's brash and commands a lot of respect but she's also a lot of fun to be around. She's brutally honest and says what's on her mind.

I think she still feels a lot of confusion and frustration about the revelations about her lineage and the role King Daphnes seemed to force on her because of it. She doesn't want much to do with what the divine. She values the freedom sailing on the sea gives her.

TP Zelda

she's. so tired. a lot of the responsibility of rebuilding the kingdom has fallen squarely on her shoulders. She's holding shit together by a thread but by god is she holding it together.

Looks pretty cold and unapproachable but she has a kind heart. She cares deeply for the people of her kingdom. She would sacrifice a lot for them and already has.

Never relaxes. Works like 24/7. get this girl a hobby

Midzel canon. Midna also had a thing with Link but it wasn't a polycule more of a this is my girlfriend Midna and this is Midna's boyfriend Link kind of a situation. Anyway she misses Midna.

Wolf and Zelda are like. coworkers. They haven't really gotten any closer in the aftermath of everything. Wolf wants nothing to do with playing the role of the hero in a political sense like Zelda keeps asking him to. I don't think Zelda necessarily blames him for escaping that responsibility, but she Is frustrated she doesn't have that luxury.

MC Zelda

a little cutie!! very bubbly and extroverted and curious about the world. She spends a lot of time outside of the castle running around with Mini. The King is so glad she's safe after everything he still just lets her do whatever she wants lol

She used to be the one dragging Mini into shenanigans all the time but he's gained a lot of confidence over his quest and is less timid now. now they are equally engaging in shenanigans

Hangs out with Malon too!! The three of them are besties

I like to think she can also still see the minish even if she can't shrink down to their size. she thinks they're so cute. Maybe mini gives her a jabbernut so she can speak to them too :-)

She helps Mini build his fucked up little trash robots. She also pretties them up with paint

scolded by castle staff frequently for getting grass stains and dirt on her nice clothes lol. She probably isn't usually running around in her full princess garb though.

Like Mini, has mostly refused to process most of what happened to her and is just trying to enjoy life.

Prince Zel

I went back and forth about whether or not I wanted to go with naming him Sheik or not. I decided against it since this is the version of him that never had to become Sheik. He keeps Zelda as a legacy name and shortens it to Zel most of the time.

Pretty lonely in the castle without many friends his age. He desperately wants to be better friends with Mask but is mostly rebuffed.

Even though he doesn't have to become Sheik in this timeline, I think he has begun training with Impa. Just under a lot less duress

Still occasionally has prophetic visions but has become somewhat hesitant about sharing them. I think he understands a little more of what went on in other timelines than he lets on, but he doesn't know or put together all of it.

Often described as odd or intense or standoffish by ppl who meet him but he can be really chatty and lively under the right circumstances

HW Zelda

Her armor is also mostly ceremonial, even though she's definitely more of a warrior queen. She and War are both dressed to project 'peace time' and 'prosperity'. She has other sets of armor that are more suited for combat.

She and War are a lot alike, calculating and cunning, which is why they understand each other. It's also why they're often at each other's throats. They're not really above backstabbing each other, though has Queen she has a lot more leverage.

She's not exactly warm or particularly kind, but she does care about the safety of the Kingdom.

Also never relaxes and works like 24/7

Constantly dealing with a tense, power-hungry and antagonistic court looking to undermine her authority. She has her own private ambitions she's working towards.

ALBW Zelda

She's a really charming and fun person! very down to earth as Queen and a lot more willing to eschew tradition.

She comes across as carefree but she's been ruling Hyrule by herself since she was young and has been subject to a lot of pressure. She had to grow up pretty fast and is wiser than she seems at first glance. She has her court and the people's respect.

She and Mirror share an interest in fashion and the arts. They're,,, they're both theatre kids.

I don't have a lot of other headcanons abt her yet sorry but. i love her

ST Zelda

Has been crowned Queen at the ripe old age of 16 because the last time they appointed a chancellor he turned out to be a demon who stole her body. so

She does not feel ready to be Queen at all but she's doing her best. She's determined not to let anybody push her around again.

She's taken an interest in learning how to fight after the events of spirit tracks. She never wants to feel as helpless as she did then, trapped as a ghost outside her body. Also she really enjoyed hitting things with a giant sword in her big phantom armor. She's become a much better swordsman than Spirit ever was lol

She specifically requested her own suit of armor to mimic the phantom armor

she's pretty protective of Spirit

BOTW Zelda

I think she was conscious for all 103 of those years fighting ganon, even if it seems somewhat blurry and surreal to her now. She remembers it in fits and bursts. She often feels disconnected from her body.

She has no interest in reviving the monarchy or ruling over Hyrule again. However she does have an interest in rebuilding Hylian towns and helping all of Hyrule recover. She still feels like it's her responsibility, not because of her role as princess, but because of what she perceives as her own failure to avert tragedy.

she doesn't just blame herself though- she blames the gods and her father too.

Right now though she's mostly taking a break to get her bearings and recover from 103 years of endless fighting. She and Slate travelled around Hyrule for a while at first, and now she's settled in Hateno trying to figure out how to be normal again. Some rebuilding efforts have already started spearheaded by Hudson and she helps out with those.

SKSW Zelda

honestly not even she is sure what parts of her are herself and what parts are hylia. it's as disconcerting for her as it is for Loft. She's both frustrated that he looks at her differently now and understands completely why he does. She still wishes he wouldn't.

she remembers more about being the goddess than she necessarily lets on

she's really invested in the settlement on the surface and is basically its unofficial leader. she puts a lot of time and effort into making sure everything is going according to plan and that they have everything they need to keep living on the surface

she's protective of Loft and worries a lot for him. She blames herself for a lot of what he struggles with now and wants to make it better.

she's not the fun police though, she likes a death-defying loftwing stunt as much as the next person

she did become a knight after the events of skyward sword! They don't really wear the uniforms down on the surface much anymore though and it's become less of a formal order while everyone focuses on building and improving the village.

She's been working on her swordsmanship

I think she really loves music and singing

[cripplemagics]

tag drop 001 - general

[autisticlancemcclain]

prologue part one

–––

“You know, there can’t be that many humans in space.”

There are several simultaneous sighs in response over the comms. Keith doesn’t need to have the video feed open to guess the faces his team are making; the annoyance, the tired irritation and flat dismissiveness. He’s used to it.

He doesn’t care. If anything it’s amusing, actually.

“I’m only speculating,” Keith continues, casual. He ignores Red’s sharp pangs of warning in the back of his mind. “The movie references, the bomb, the attitude –”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” Pidge says icily, and Keith has no issue ignoring her, either.

“I mean, how many times would the Galra have come to the Milky Way?”

Pidge is no longer the only one telling him to stop. He counts two more voices but doesn’t let himself recognise whose, pretending it’s just background noise, because he’s damn right and he knows he is.

“We know four confirmed humans to have gone missing in space. Who’s to say it’s not –”

“Can it, Kogane!” Hunk shouts, and he’s much harder to ignore, if only because Keith wouldn’t put it past him to ram his lion right into Keith’s.

He shrugs and picks at a loose thread on his undersuit. He said what he needed to say, anyway. So. It doesn’t really matter.

Hunk’s breathing is heavy and carefully controlled, static over the comms, building up a tension that Keith can’t help but delight in, a little. He knows Hunk’s waiting for a response, maybe even an apology, so Keith takes his time in answering, poking idly at his dashboard.

(Keith has sat through Matt and Coran’s grief counselling just like everyone else. He knows how he’s supposed to handle this, how he’s been asked and trained to handle inner-team conflict. He has been presented with mindfulness worksheets and team building exercises. He knows the stakes. He knows that they are supposed to preserve the caricature of Voltron that they have left, continue animating the skeleton of the Coalition. 

But then again, he sits in grief counselling in silence, because he has nothing to grieve yet.)

“Not my fault you gave up,” Keith says, faux-casual.

Many voices erupt at once, because it is the wrong thing to say. He knew it and said it anyway and watches the aftermath with a deliberate and defiant brand of ennui.

“You just don’t fucking get it, do you.”

No, Keith doesn’t understand. He will never understand the ease in which everyone has simply accepted what seems to be. He doesn’t understand how quickly everyone else gave up. He doesn’t understand why they are moving forward, why they are bothering, when Lance has not been returned safely to them, when they haven’t even found a fucking body, if that’s the route they choose to pursue. He will never understand why everyone has given up on Lance as if it’s the right thing to do and he will never forgive anyone for it, either.

So he says nothing.

But Hunk is used to him starting things and backing away, now, so he continues.

“Lance was my fucking brother, Keith. I don’t have a single memory in my life without him in it. I fucking –” Hunk’s voice shakes, and Keith can’t tell if it’s rage or pain. When he speaks again he sounds reedy, drawn out. “I won’t turn his memory into one of your conspiracy theories. I know it’s hard for you, I know you loved him –”

Keith shuts that line of thought down fast, bouldering over Hunk loudly. “So help me look for him.” 

Keith’s words have no conviction. They have had this argument before and they will have it again, although every time they do, the patience for Keith wears thinner and thinner. 

(Keith knows they are getting tired of him. He knows they are losing their affection for him the fastest and he know he is making it worse for himself but he can’t fucking stop because if he stops then that means he’s given up and he can’t give up not on Lance. Not on Lance he promised. They have never found a body. There was the tape of course there was the tape but Keith knows down to the very soul of him that if the roles were reversed Lance would never ever stop looking and who would Keith be if he stopped. He knows his family just wants to grieve and he is standing in their way but he cannot choose between Lance and his family he can’t.)

“...Alright, Keith,” Hunk sighs, exhausted. Keith squirms until he forces himself still. “Alright.”

They ride in silence for the rest of the flight. Keith remembers a time when flights this long almost guaranteed a game of some sort, or playful argument that lasted half an hour, then immediately wishes he didn’t. He busies himself with the mission bulletpoints from the pre-mission briefing to keep from falling down that trap.

The intel Kolivan passed onto them included a very convoluted amalgamation of Haggar and her operations. Maybe even all of them. Keith’s not sure, it’s mostly been Pidge and Shiro and Allura looking at it, decoding and puzzling it out. What Keith does know is that the mission they’re on now is one of confirmation, a tentative testing of the waters, to add credibility to the intel. The massive file has informed them that the base they are approaching has been abandoned for months; planet totally ravaged of its resources and left behind when the Empire could no longer had use for it like the goddamn parasite it is. If the intel is correct, then the base should be empty of everything except a few patrolling sentries, easy to take out, and rife with bridges for Pidge to build to more information rich systems. 

And if the intel is correct about this base, then it is likely correct about others; others like the giant citadel in the Qelrn nursery star where Druids are supposedly born, others like the factories in twelve different galaxies where all Empire sentries are assembled, others like the almost immeasurably massive fortress built inside the most powerful star in the known universe. Places that, when hit, would not only cripple the Empire, but destroy it.

But of course they have to kick around this stupid abandoned shell of a base, first.

“Cloaking on,” Shiro announces as the base starts to blip on their radars. 

Keith listens without argument. He’s pushed enough today. 

He’s bored on the mission, as he expected to be. He takes the lead in the beginning, but it takes him all of fifteen minutes to wipe out the sentries scattered throughout the base and then his part of the mission is basically done. He’s not trusted to go digging around in files, not anymore. (Not after the tape. Not after taking down the Empire stopped being anywhere close to his first priority. Not after he became a Liability.) So he stands off to the side as everyone else crowds around the control centre of the bridge, swinging and slashing his sword around with no real purpose. He wonders if anyone would notice if he just got in Red and fucked off.

Probably. 

Sighing to himself, he sits heavily on the floor, not bothering to soften the impact and knowing the hard clang of his armour will leave a bruise. It’s a dangerous path to go down and he knows it, but he allows himself to think about what it would be like if Lance was here, on this mission and alive. Lance would be with him, probably. Neither of them have ever been able to maintain interest in hacking and computers and coding and everything. If Lance were here Keith would be allowed to explore the ship, since they'd be a pair. They wouldn’t find anything interesting but Lance has a way of making mundane things interesting. Keith wonders if they would have fun or if they’d spend the whole time arguing.

He smiles slightly. Both, probably. 

He hates their new normal. He hates it so much. He knows that they don’t have the resources to look for someone who’s very likely dead. He knows Pidge was never allowed to just up and leave and look for her family in the beginning, and it’s no different now. He knows that tactically, the smartest thing the Empire could do with Lance would be to kill him. He knows that and he’s not stupid enough to think Haggar and Zarkon and whoever the fuck else would mess that up, keep Lance alive, allow him the possibility to escape and reform Voltron.

It had been Lance to point that out, actually. Quietly and on the observation deck, one night when Keith couldn’t stand the sound of his muffled sobs through the thin wall connecting their rooms any longer and dragged him there to help mellow him out. The conversation had rolled around to the time Allura was taken, somehow, and Lance had confided in Keith that he was so angry in Keith’s and Allura’s insistence that she be left behind because he knew that they would kill her. 

“It’s the fastest way,” he’d explained, chin hooked over his knees and halfway haunted look in his dark eyes. “Voltron is a team or nothing kind of deal. There is no four paladin Voltron, there is no wormholing without the Altean heir to run it. Yeah, they could torture us for information, but why bother? Why expend that energy? You kill just one of us and we’re fucked forever. You could take Voltron out with one lucky shot.” He’d shuddered. Keith feels bile rise at the back of his throat even now, at the memory, at the surety in Lance’s voice when he said it, like he knew one of them was going to die and it was only a matter of time. It freaked Keith out then and makes him nauseous now. He doesn’t like the idea that Lance knew, that he prepared for it.

The train of thought makes him want to crawl out of his skin. He hates that his mind always goes here. He scrambles to his feet and stumbles out of the bridge, like he can outrun the memories, leave behind the fear in Lance’s face. He’s down a random hallway and swiping cobwebs and dust from his hair before he realises what he’s doing. He stops, smack in front of a giant window in some forgotten hallway, pressing the heel of his hands to his eyes hard enough to see stars.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he says. He breathes deeply through his mouth for several moments. He still feels hugely twitchy, like sparks are just under his skin. He looks out the window and finds a random star, staring at it until he’s cross-eyed, until it blurs and blinks around the edges.

There is too much he doesn’t know. There is too much that has been left up to speculation and it kills him.  Keith has always been hellbent on figuring things out -- his heritage, the Garrison secrets, the mystery of the Blue Lion. He has always busied himself with finding the truth and damned the consequences. And there have been consequences. There always have been and they have always been painful. He has always had to choose between truth and comfort. 

He takes one final, deep breath, imagining the air flowing into his lungs and sinking into his bloodstream, and steels himself. He pulls out his comm and messages Kolivan. (Even now, even after Keith has long since left the Blades and will likely never return, Kolivan has a soft spot for him. Maybe it’s the way he had the answers Keith needed and Keith trusted him. Maybe Kolivan just needed a reason to be soft after so many years. But Keith is grateful for it nonetheless.)

He opens the file Kolivan sends him, no questions asked, no hesitation. The intel that he has not been expressly kept away from but that has not been openly provided to him, either. He watches the video, with the mysterious figure who speaks like Lance and walks like Lance and squares his shoulders the same way Lance always has, and Keith starts his search.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Congrats on the follower milestone, Trin!! For the lil fanfic suggestions, how about Sky and Warriors bonding? I do love how you write emotional hurt/comfort, and it would be cool if Wars were the one comforting, but these are all just suggestions! No worries if you don't feel inspiration from this prompt :) Hope you're having a good day!

Tysm @unclemoriarty !! And thanks for the prompt! I love writing Wars and Sky, especially when it’s angsty ;) I hope you like what I came up with!

No warnings, just some angst

———————-

Sky brushes a hand roughly across his eyes, trying to do away with the moisture there. He doesn’t deserve to cry. Not after everything. But the Shadow’s words still echo in his mind, a sentence he never wanted to shoulder.

…and yet has for years now.

“Have you told them yet?” Crimson eyes gleam in his mind’s eye. Cool metal presses against his neck. “Have you told them that you are responsible for all their pain?

“Tell me, hero, have you informed them of the curse you allowed to take root in your souls?”

Seeing their faces had been the worst of it. Worse than the wounds the Shadow had inflicted, worse than the fear and pain. They had looked at him, questioning, confused, and all he could do in the aftermath was spew a choked explanation full of excuses.

“I should’ve stabbed him right then and there. I shouldn’t have given him the mercy of another moment of life.” That is what it really comes down to. His foolish belief that he had won, that he could spare the fading god a few more seconds to breathe his last.

Decency and morality are things he clings to. They’re what make him a hero. He has no plans to release them now. But…

He gazes out into the dim light of a cloudy day, wincing as even that much brightness assaults his aching eyes.

But in this moment he is beginning to think his decision was more pride than anything else. Or…perhaps it was just exhaustion. A yearning for it all to be over so he could go collapse in his friends’ waiting arms, safe at last.

It doesn’t matter either way. The point is that he failed. And now others must shoulder the repercussions of that failure.

“Hey, Sky.”

He jolts abruptly out of his thoughts, breath hitching. In an instant, he is on his feet. But it is only the captain standing there, looking a bit damp from the drizzling rain.

“Sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Sky shakes his head, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“It’s fine.”

He turns away, flopping defeatedly back down onto the ground. If Warriors knows it for the sign Sky means it to be, he doesn’t indicate as much. Instead, he comes to sit down beside him.

“It’s not a very pleasant day today, is it?”

Sky doesn’t answer, but he can feel the captain’s eyes on him, searching, questioning, perhaps even judging. He fights not to crumble before their scrutiny.

“No,” he croaks, finally, “it’s not.”

Warriors has turned now to gaze out into the endless gray. Sky still feels exposed, raw. Suddenly, he has the distinct yearning to claw out of his own skin.

For another agonizing thread of minutes it is quiet. Then, Warriors speaks, his voice soft.

“We aren’t angry at you, Sky.”

Sky looks down at his boots and doesn’t reply. The silence is agonizing, but speaking is far worse.

Warriors allows it for a short while more.

“Did I ever tell you how the War of Ages began?” He says, finally, still soft, far softer than the captain usually sounds.

Sky shakes his head. Warriors chuckles, short and bitter.

“I figured as much. Well, you should know…it started because of me.”

Sky’s eyes widen slightly. He turns to Warriors, but the captain is facing away still, expression carefully guarded.

“A woman named Cia became obsessed with me without me even knowing it. She attacked Hyrule to get what she wanted. I wouldn’t give in — and neither would anyone else — and in the end we defeated her. But to get there, to obtain a victory…”

He ducks his head, that hollow chuckle ringing out again. It tears Sky’s heart in two.

“It’s what it means to be a hero, Sky,” he murmurs. “To lose, to fail, if only to succeed in the end. We carry heavy burdens — every single one of us.”

Finally, he turns to Sky, a sad smile on his lips. Gently, he puts a hand on Sky's shoulder.

“But if we stick together we’ll be alright. Trust me.”

Sky swallows hard. Tears still pick at his eyes and the lump in his throat warns of the sobs that are still to come. Far away he can make out a dark haze amongst all the gray — rain approaching fast. He watches it through blurred eyes.

“I’m sorry about the war,” he says, quietly. It’s not enough — he knows it isn’t. What can he say to wash away Warriors’ guilt, his pain?

“Not your fault. And I didn’t tell you to gain your pity. I told you because I wanted you to know that I understand. And I know the others do too.” His arm is around Sky now, drawing him in, nudging away his barriers. “That’s why we don’t blame you. Why would we when we all bear our own guilt?”

Sky inhales shakily. The rain is even closer now. They will likely be soaked soon. But with Warriors warm and steady beside him, he can’t bring himself to care.

He doesn’t deserve this comfort. The war that had made Warriors a hero wouldn’t have even happened without his failure, after all. Yet, he feels incapable of pulling away.

“I’m sorry anyway,” he murmurs, thickly, because words are all he has to offer. “Even if you don’t blame me for the curse…I’m sorry.”

Warriors doesn’t reply. But he coaxes Sky closer until the Skyloftian is resting on his shoulder. And when the rain comes pouring down and Sky shatters beneath it, Warriors holds him tightly while he sobs.

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Happy Friday everyone! This is my first 911 ficrec post (I'm usually over here if ill-fated hunters and their angel husbands are your jam) but I've been DEEP in the Evan Buckley hyperfixation throughout April so come with me for what I've been reading!

This is a combination of Buddie and Bucktommy and buckeddietommy (aka buckeddie and meatballs, heh!)

26 April 2024

tell me about despair by @hattalove was the first fic I read, specifically because I wanted to get inside Eddie's head more as on first viewing I found him a little trickier to grasp...but yeah...that might just be because I am he and he am I. This fic was an wonderful way in to understanding his inner workings. His queer awakening and the associated traumas he has to work through were handled with such care, and the character voices were just gorgeous. "Eddie's not entirely sure he believes in getting help, at least not for himself. There's only so much healing to be had for a body torn apart by bullets, for a mind that's only half there, for a man who's been leaving pieces of himself behind all his life with nothing to take their place. Except, as it turns out, falling apart happens in increments, and healing does, too"

evan, elated and euphoric by @gayhoediaz 16500 words of bucktommy first time smut anyone?? "Buck likes it - not just being with Tommy, being with a man - that part is obvious, but he… likes that he likes it. He loves that he likes it. Truthfully, he doesn’t think that he has ever felt more at home in his own body than he does in this very moment." This is such a delightful exploration (through copious amounts of sizzling sex) in Buck feeling fully present and fully himself in his sexuality, and it's gloriously decadent as well as sweet and sexy as hell. I loved this characterisation of Tommy.

Both Bermuda and Golden (Lost but Doing Just Fine) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels all hail the threesome fics! In which the correct answer is always - Both? Both is good! This one is gloriously kinky and sexy and I love the 'guiding hand' aspect and how both Buck and Eddie allow themselves to be led. "It's not that Buck's not happy with Eddie. It's just that being with Tommy taught him things about himself, things he wants, and he doesn't quite know how to ask Eddie for those things. He shouldn't have underestimated how well Eddie knows him, or how willing Tommy is to lend a helping, instructional hand."

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by @elvensorceress is a gorgeously written allegorical tale with PEAK Buddie and Christopher family vibes set between S4&5. "In the aftermath of the sniper attack, Buck has to keep going without his partner while sorting through the layers of everything they are to each other, while Eddie fights for his life and through all his internalized trauma and regret for everything they never managed to say. aka After nearly losing each other, Buck and Eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." My absolute favourite thing about this fic is the thread with the bedtime story that Christopher and Buck have created together. Just beautiful.

five ways to fall in love with the man in the mirror by @buckttommy is a bucktommy fic but crucially a Buck absolutely revelling in the poetry of getting to know your own identity. It also crucially gives me Jay Hulme vibes (iykyk) "Buck meets God at a gay club. He finds him in an oil-slick puddle on a damp night, neon lights reflecting off the kaleidoscopic liquid in the parking lot. or; Evan Buckley falls in love with himself."

and i know how i feel by @middyblue is a very sweet Buck coming out to Bobby fic, written I believe between 7x04 and 7x05. ALL the Dad!Bobby feels. "Buck stares off over the hills of Los Angeles, hugging his knees. He half wants to take out his phone and start playing Nine Simone (it’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me, and I’m feeling - ) and half can’t bear to drown out the thin peace of bird calls in the quiet blue of the morning. Footsteps scrape on gravel behind him and he turns, half-expecting another hiker, but it’s Bobby, carrying a coffee tray with two to-go cups and a paper bag."

Short and sweet fic:

For All Occasions by @storybelle FIREFAM FEELS! In which of course, as per tradition, Hen makes the 118 a cake. I neeeeeed Hen and Buck queer camaraderie show, I need it, and just like this!

Wedding Bell Blues by @klutzygirl - much needed supportive parents actually fic! "Margaret and Phillip meet their son's new boyfriend when they arrive in town for Maddie's wedding." it doesn't go how Buck would expect, in the best way.

PS - if you have any henren authors/fic recs I should check out PLEASE let me know! I'm new and I love them!

[edoro]

Dunmeshi spoilers, talking about Thistle and Delgal

the more i think about it, the less i feel like the text of Dunmeshi really does support the interpretation that Delgal didn't love Thistle

like, yes, he absolutely did use Thistle, and displayed a clear sense of entitlement towards him - the baseline expectation that if he had a problem, Thistle could and would solve it, and then the idea that once he'd set Thistle to solve a problem he could just... turn that solution off when he felt like it ("we've been here a while now, isn't it time we left the dungeon?" <-words of a man who has not truly grasped what he asked for, what Thistle did to fulfill it, or what any of the repercussions of this are)

there's also an interesting thread of carelessness when it comes to his physical interactions with Thistle during high-emotion moments, like when he grabs onto Thistle by Eodio's sickbed or when he thumps Thistle on the back after Thistle summons monsters to kill their enemies and then brings that kid's dead dad back to life

it feels like he's a large dog who doesn't realize how big he is, or perhaps doesn't realize how small and delicate Thistle is, and perhaps at times is very aware of it and uses his size to intimidate/express his frustration

all of that aside, though, i think it's very clear that prior to Thistle becoming dungeon lord and tbh for a decent chunk of time at the beginning of his tenure as dungeon lord, Delgal had a very emotionally intimate relationship with him

i don't think you can sort them neatly into the categories of older vs younger sibling. they've both been both at different times, depending on how you measure it. Thistle is certainly older chronologically, and there was a chunk of Delgal's life - a very formative chunk, too - where Thistle was older, smarter, and stronger, where Thistle looked out for him and protected him and taught him things.

and then there were a few years where they were at the same developmental level... and then Delgal outgrew Thistle. he got bigger and older physically and he matured mentally past the point where Thistle was. not only that, but he became king, and while Thistle may have been raised alongside him like a brother, that doesn't make Thistle a prince - he was first and foremost a servant (and property) of the crown, even if his position meant he enjoyed a close relationship with the king, queen, and prince.

but that doesn't make Thistle necessarily the little brother - he is now, but it seems to me that there's still a part of him and Delgal that sees him as someone with the power to comfort and protect and teach, rather than someone who needs to be comforted and protected and taught

take the scene where Delgal says he's afraid of dying after his father was killed: that's an extremely tender, intimate, emotional scene. Delgal is crying while Thistle strokes his hair and promises to protect him. Delgal, the king, is being vulnerable in a way he absolutely cannot with most people, and Thistle sees his vulnerability and offers not only comfort but the promise of safety - don't worry, i'll make it better, i'll chase away the monsters under your bed, i won't let anything bad happen to you, i won't let anyone hurt you.

Delgal sees him as someone to seek that comfort from and Thistle sees himself as being in a position to give that comfort. he yearns for Delgal's attention and approval but also sees himself as Delgal's protector.

and then we have scenes like the one where Thistle resurrected that kid's dad, where he sees everyone staring at him in the aftermath of this bloody route and a bit of casual necromancy and realizes they're unsure, even scared of him, and it's Delgal who steps in and changes the mood by thumping Thistle on the back and praising him; Delgal who manages the crowd and keeps Thistle safe, setting the expectation for how everyone should react, lending his social cachet to Thistle in this moment to protect him from backlash

they go back and forth like this with each other, and i think it's one of the most interesting things about their relationship. no one else in Delgal's family has the same kind of relationship with Thistle. no one else knows him as well or loves him like Delgal does. no one else is close with him like that.

ultimately, i don't think you can look at the way he sought comfort from Thistle after his father's death and think that there isn't love and emotional intimacy there. the real tragedy is that Delgal always loved Thistle, but he never understood Thistle, and his inability to do so combined with his general passivity and avoidance played a big part in things getting as fucked up as they did.

[eddiemunsonw]

Uninvited, not unwelcome

Steddie x fem!reader

Summary: Steve takes you to Skull Rock for some sweet pleasure of his own, however... he isn't the only one enjoying your lips around his cock.

CW/Disclaimer: Mostly Steve x fem!reader with more subtle hints of Steddie and Eddie x fem!reader, schmutty smut

Author's note: Why pick one if you can have both, right?

Words: 1444

“Skull Rock, really?” you huffed, despite the fact that it made you feel a little giddy inside to be one of the girls Steve had taken to “his spot”. You would have felt more insecure about his active sex life from the past if you hadn’t been going steady for two years and a couple months now.

Steve giggled as his hands skimmed over your waist while he closed in from behind. You were still walking, mind you. He had been very jittery and giggly all the way down there. Oh, and touchy. His hands hadn’t left your body for a second ever since he picked you up.

“It’s to make it official, you know? Sealing the deal.”

“I thought we made it official two years ago?”

“Well, yes, but I mean… it’s like a bucket list thing. I wanna have sex with you in so many places, this is just one of them.”

“My god Steve you’re so romantic right now,” you said as a chuckle escaped you.

“I’ll be romantic tomorrow,” Steve mumbled against your neck where he left kisses as far as he could reach with you still continuing to walk. It wasn’t easy with how close his feet followed and how his hands were currently exploring your front. “Right now I’m just really horny and I really really need you.”

“I can feel that,” you mumbled dryly, even though the hard length that pushed between your ass cheeks was the very reason your panties had gathered a wet spot.

“You gonna help me out?”

“I’d like to think of it as a mutual service.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be your turn next baby. I just don’t wanna come into my pants from eating you out this time.”

“This time? Oh wait! Oh but that was hot.”

“You licking up the aftermath even hotter. But, not today.”

“Mhm. You should probably stop grinding into my ass if you wanna last then, big boy,” you whispered as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, giving him better access to your neck as well.

At long last, you arrived at Skull Rock and from there on it was nothing but feverish exchanges of spit as you kissed each other senseless. You angled your hips away when you felt him grinding against you and the impatient whine, followed by a meek thrust of his hips made you giggle. His jeans came undone quickly and you pulled them down as you dropped slowly to your knees. His eyes followed your every move and he wasted no second to thread his fingers through your hair to find a nice grip for later. He would let you tease him first, it was his favorite part.

Moans left his lips as you ghosted yours over his length through his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips when you exposed his cock to the cold.

“Shirt off, wanna see you,” you said softly while nuzzling the dark patch surrounding his cock before you leaned back and waited. He nearly tore his shirt off but managed to keep it whole as he threw it on the ground. He leaned back against the rock, looking down at you with parted lips as you teased his tip with your tongue.

“Please baby,” Steve whispered, really trying not to thrust his hips into your waiting lips. You took your sweet time licking around the head, pretending like you were going to take him all in but then pulling back at the last second. His moans traveled easily through the forest and anyone nearby would definitely be able to hear him. You doubted anyone would wander into the forest at this time of night, though.

“Fuck, yes just like that, fuck you take me so well,” Steve moaned, his free hand trying to grasp onto the rock but finding no secure grip. Instead, it joined his other hand into your hair. You bopped your head up and down in just the right tempo and Steve was slowly losing himself in the feeling of pure bliss.

If you hadn’t been through the things you had been through, you wouldn’t possibly be this hyper vigilant of your surroundings. However, when a branch snapped nearby, you both stilled.

“Keep going,” Steve whispered, keeping his focus on you. “That’s it baby you’re such a good girl for me, taking me all the way huh?”

You moaned around his cock and in the back of your mind you told yourself you could relax if Steve could. If either of you was aware of his surroundings, it was him. If he deemed it safe, it was okay. By the way his hips bucked you could tell that he was close. You couldn’t help but moan around him, your eyes closed with the enjoyment of pleasuring your boyfriend. Had you looked up, you would have noticed his eyes no longer being on you though. Nothing personal, really. He was just… distracted.

Distracted by the curly haired metalhead currently leaning back against a tree in the near distance, palming himself through his pants as his eyes flicked from you, to Steve and back to you again. With any other person Steve would have stopped, called the guy a pervert and shield you from vision. However… This was Eddie. The same Eddie that you both had talked about before. Your best friend Eddie. The Eddie you’d both wouldn’t mind having a threesome with.

“Fuck, baby, imagine if he was here. If Eddie was here,” Steve breathed through his nose heavily. “We could play into one of your sweet fantasies, huh? Being taken care of by both of us. Having his cock in your mouth while I take good care of your pussy?”

The softest whine alerted you of another presence and you smiled around Steve’s length. You opened your eyes just a smidge and could see how his eyes were trained to the same spot. 

“Right baby? C’mon let me hear you.”

“Mmhmfh,” you muffled around him.

“Yeah… you’d let him fuck your face, wouldn’t you? Maybe after he got your pussy ready for me with his tongue. I bet he’d be addicted to the taste. We’d have to pull him off.”

Your lips left his cock with a pop and you smiled at his surprised expression.

“I’d rather ride your face while I suck him off for a first timer I think,” you said loud enough for Eddie to hear. The glint in Steve’s eyes told you that he knew you knew Eddie was there. With the way Eddie was breathing raggedly and leaving soft noises here and there, it wasn’t really a surprise.

“Or maybe… I wanna watch him eat you out while you eat me out,” you added, winking before you wrapped your lips around him again and spread the slick around his cock with your other hand. Steve moaned towards the tree tops, head butting a little harshly against the rock. He whined when you let go again.

“Come on,” you whispered, “look at him while you come. I know you want to.”

Steve watched you hungrily and grabbed your face to set the pace himself. With a sudden urge he thrusted into your mouth, eyes lingering on the totally fucked out expression of Eddie who was now desperately tugging at his cock, one hand under his shirt to tease his nipple. Their moans mingled and so did yours when Steve thrusted faster. Your eyes rolled back and it was almost as if Eddie was already part of it, not just as a viewer. A hushed little “fuck,” alerted you of Eddie’s undoing and Steve followed soon after. You swallowed every last drop as Steve caressed your face sweetly.

“Wanna clean him up too, baby?” Steve asked softly. You nodded with more eagerness than you thought you’d have and finally turned your head towards Eddie. A moan nearly left you at the sight. Cum spread all over his stomach, shirt carrying a wet patch from holding it between his lips as he had tried to suppress his moans. Last but not least, his hungry, dazed eyes as he shuffled towards you both. Steve must have made a gesture.

Even in this darkness you could tell that Eddie was blushing when a tentative hand reached out to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked sincerely. He’d rather walk around with a boner for the rest of his life than do anything you didn’t want. You nodded, smiling and resting against his big palm before opening your mouth and resting your tongue against the bottom of his cock.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

FIN