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guardian-of-da-gay · 5 months

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Family Ties

Read it on Ao3

Tails slid the rental skates off his feet. They were just a bit too small. He’d have to ask Mom to get another pair. That was probably okay, though. She had said to let her know if the size was wrong. It wouldn’t annoy her if it wasn’t. Probably.

He looked up and watched as she handed Knuckles his own pair of skates. Tails noticed right away that the skates had laces. Knuckles looked at them and Tails could practically hear him thinking ‘what am I supposed to do with these?’ He looked between her and the skates and back, but she was sitting down and pulling on her own.

Knuckles looked out at the rest of the skaters and Tails did too. There were only a few other families (who were obviously trying not to stare at them), but as far as Tails could see, everyone else's skates had laces. But there must’ve been non-lace shoes, right? Mom had just accidentally gotten the wrong kind for Knuckles too.

Tails watched closely. If Knuckles pointed out the mistake, he could probably tack on that he needed different skates as well. He felt more comfortable with that. Knuckles opened his mouth to say something when–

“Sonic, wait! You have to switch your shoes first!” Mom got up and hobbled off wearing only one skate.

“I wanna see if I can run in place on the ice!”

“I think you’re just as likely to run right into the side of the rink.” Dad steered Sonic away from the ice.

“Aw, come on. Just one lap? I’ll go so fast they won’t even see me–”

It looked like this was going to wind up being a debate, Tails thought.

Knuckles watched them, fiddling with one of his backpack straps. That had been a debate too. Mom was worried if he carried the Master Emerald out on the ice he’d fall and hurt himself landing on it. Knuckles refused to leave it behind or even far out of sight. In the end, she’d allowed him to carry it in a backpack in exchange for him giving in to their other debate: whether or not he should wear a coat. (Tails didn’t mind having to wear his own jacket and scarf though, it was chilly here and he didn’t have his winter fur yet.)

Knuckles glanced his way. He watched as Knuckles’ eyes slid down to the skates in Tails’ hand. At least they were in this together. Maybe they could solve the problem together too.

Tails hopped down from the chair, sliding his shoes back on. “Um… I’m going to get some different skates,” he said before he could overthink it. “Do you want me to ask for snap shoes for you?”

Knuckles scowled and stood. “I can ask myself,” he grumbled.

But Knuckles let Tails lead the way from the stands back up to the rental counter. Which was weird. Usually it was Tails following as Knuckles loudly declared to the cashier: ‘My brother requested NO pickles!’ Instead, Knuckles kept looking around, which made Tails feel like he had to look around too. One thing he noticed: no one was wearing snap skates.

Tails hated talking to cashiers or… any customer service kind of person. It made him anxious. But since Knuckles was being weirdly quiet, it was up to him to do the talking.

“E-excuse me,” he asked, standing on his tip-toes to see over the counter edge. “Can we swap lace skates for some snap skates? And switch sizes?” He set his skates on the counter. He hoped that was okay.

Humans always either acted like Tails was some weirdo freak… or that he was really cute. The guy behind the counter smiled real wide and Tails knew that here it was the latter.

The clerk leaned over the edge of the counter so Tails could step back and didn’t have to stand on his toes. “Hey, little guy!” He said in a candy-sweet voice. “You said you want ‘snap skates’? What’re those?”

“Oh, um… you know… like snap shoes?”

The clerk looked confused.

“Um… button shoes? They’ve got little magnets in them?”

Now he looked even more confused. Tails hadn’t expected this. He glanced back at Knuckles.

“I think they do not have any,” Knuckles said. “It is alright.”

Tails wrung his hands, his tails twisting around each other. That wasn’t right… Knuckles never gave up when Tails said he’d just wipe off the pickle juice. Tails couldn’t give up now! He turned back to the clerk. “Aren’t there any skates without laces?”

“Oh, like velcro? Sure, little guy. What size do you need?”

Both of them perked up at that. Tails looked excitedly back at Knuckles. His big brother stepped forward, holding up his laced skates. “I require an adult human male’s ‘size twelve’.”

“Oh.” The clerk leaned back and looked at Knuckles in surprise. He wasn’t giving him the ‘I think you’re a freak’ look, but he definitely didn’t think Knuckles was cute either. “Uh… sorry, man, we only have velcro skates in kid sizes.”

Knuckles’ shoulders slumped along with Tails’. “Um… you don’t have any other kinds of no-lace shoes?” Tails asked.

Knuckles had already turned and walked away before the clerk could finish apologizing again. Tails wavered between following and staying to mind his manners and thank the man before he remembered he needed to switch his own skates. As soon as he had the new size he hurried back to the stands, feeling extra aware of all the strangers glancing his way.

Knuckles was sitting with the family again, his skates on the floor beside him. He watched Mom watch Sonic tie his skates. “Remember to get them good and tight,” she said. “It’ll hurt your ankles if they’re loose. And tuck the extra string into the lower straps–yeah, like that–that way you won’t accidentally trip on them!”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it Mom.”

Dad looked up from tying his own laces and saw Tails standing there holding his skates. “You need help, bud?”

“Oh! No, I’m okay.” Tails hopped up to sit next to Knuckles and pulled off his shoes.

He thought Knuckles would ask for help. Or… more likely Mom or Dad would offer. But Knuckles didn’t say anything and–

“Last one on the ice is a rotten egg–and it’s even a fair fight ‘cause I cannot run in these things!” Sonic yelled.

“Hang on, let me put my purse in our locker.”

“Should we put our shoes in there?” Dad asked.

“Oh yeah!” Sonic said. “I was just hearing on the news about this ‘Stinky Shoe Bandit’! Better be careful, Dad!”

“I doubt anyone is going to steal anybody’s shoes. And even if they do, we can always buy new shoes! But my wallet is definitely getting put away.” Mom hobbled off toward the lockers and Dad hurried to follow Sonic.

Nobody remembered to check on Knuckles.

Tails stared down at his socked feet and the skates with their long, skinny laces. He realized with mounting dread that he might need to offer Knuckles help. Knuckles! He was good at pretty much everything… except anything to do with technology. But other than that, he could do anything! Except… he couldn’t tie laces.

But some species just weren’t built for stuff like that! Their fingers were too short or their claws too long or they had webbed fingers or… whatever! The point was it happened plenty on other planets and there were usually other options available. Apparently not here though. Here, it looked like it wasn’t something people really thought about. Maybe that was why Knuckles was being so quiet… across the galaxy, people would look at his mitts and his snap shoes and know.

Here Knuckles had to admit he needed help. And he never needed help. He was the one who gave help. That’s probably why Mom and Dad hadn’t thought to offer… and why he wasn’t asking now. And why he’d probably just get annoyed with Tails if he tried to help.

His conflicted thoughts must have shown on his face. “What is wrong?” Knuckles asked.

Tails looked up in surprise. “Uh…” A perfect lie suddenly hit him. “I need help!”

Knuckles perked up. Always ready to assist.

That thought had Tails plucking up his courage. “Tying these skates is kind of tricky…” he said. “Could I practice with you first?”

“Oh.” Knuckles frowned slightly. Tails could see the gears turning in his head. Was tying skate laces really that much different from shoelaces? After a second, Knuckles shrugged. He didn’t know enough about tying laces to call Tails’ bluff. “You may practice on me,” he said.

Tails hopped down from his seat, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. Knuckles snapped the magnetic tops off his shoes and pushed them aside with his foot. Then pulled on his skates. Once they were on his feet, he stopped and looked up at Tails.

“L-leave it to me!” Tails replied, standing up straight and proud before he knelt down and got to work cinching the laces.

He pulled the strings tight around Knuckles’ ankles just like Mom had said. “How’s that feel?” He asked. “Too tight? Too loose?”

Knuckles rolled his ankle a little. “It is sufficient,” he said.

Tails got back to it. It was a little weird tying shoelaces from this side of the shoe. Plus Knuckles was watching him like a hawk the whole time. Tails had to restart once, which probably helped sell his lie that he needed practice. He managed to get the first skate tied before there was a loud thump! on the dasher boards across from their seats.

“Wait, Knuckles, is Tails tying your shoelaces for you?” Sonic cried as his face popped over the top of the boards. “Oh my god… can you not tie your shoes?!”

Knuckles’ quills bristled. “Of course, I can!” He said too quickly and too loud. He was such a bad liar.

“Wait, what?” Dad asked as he came up behind Sonic.

“It is nothing,” Knuckles said at the same time as Sonic announced:

“Knuckles can’t tie his shoes!”

“He can’t?” Oh dear, Mom was back too.

Knuckles crossed his arms with a huff.

“You can speak like a billion languages but you can’t tie your shoelaces?”

Knuckles gave Sonic a dirty look, but before he could say anything, Tails piped up: “That’s not nice, Sonic!”

He immediately wilted as his whole family looked at him in surprise. Oh gosh… he’d scolded Sonic! He’d just been so surprised that Sonic would tease Knuckles about something he couldn’t change… But of course now he thought about it, Sonic grew up around humans. He probably thought it was a ‘knowing’ issue and not a mechanical one.

Ears folded against his head he dedicated his full attention to tying Knuckles’ laces as quickly as possible. If he’d looked up he would’ve seen the very pointed look Mom was giving Sonic.

“Uh… okay, point taken. Um. Sorry, Knux?”

Knuckles just let out a grunt. He was done with this conversation. But Mom wasn’t just yet:

“I’m sorry too, honey. I should’ve checked if you needed any help.”

“I don’t need help,” Knuckles said. “Tails was only practicing his lace-tying skills on me.”

“So… Do you know how to tie laces?” Sonic asked.

“Do you know how to shut up?”

“Okay, neither of you two talk to each other until Tails has his skates on,” Mom declared.

Oh gosh… Tails wasn’t sure if that put pressure on him to go fast or slow. He tied them quickly, just in case.

“Fine!” Sonic huffed and disappeared over the boards once more.

“Fine,” Knuckles grumbled. He stood from the chair. And nearly fell over.

“Oh, careful!” Mom sounded like she was trying not to laugh as she grabbed his arm and helped him stand upright.

“These are hard to walk in!”

“Yeah, they’re not really built for walking in, but they’re perfect once you’re on the ice!” Mom knelt and checked the lacing on Knuckles’ shoes.

“Good job, bud,” she said to Tails. She checked Tails’ laces too. With her back to Knuckles she met Tails’ eye and whispered. “Thanks for looking out for your brother.”

Tails flushed under his fur.

“What was that?” Knuckles demanded.

“I said maybe when we get home, we can all practice tying laces together?”

Knuckles frowned. “No, thank you,” he said. He didn’t elaborate further, just crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Tails expectantly.

Tails’ eyes flicked between Knuckles and Mom and back.

He didn’t say that Knuckles should explain a bit more to Mom, but he definitely thought it. Knuckles must have picked up on it; his expression shifted into a scowl. When he turned back to Mom his mouth was twisted into a grimace. He held up a mitt. “These are not really built for tying shoelaces… But they are perfect for punching! Also digging! And swimming and climbing too!” He bumped his fist over his puffed up chest.

“Okay…” Mom said. She looked down at Knuckles’ gloves and then her eyes slid to his discarded shoes.

Knuckles must have felt like he’d sufficiently proven echidna capability, because he wibble-wobble-walked off to the gap in the boards with his head held high.

Tails glanced back at Mom and saw her picking up Knuckles’ snap shoes curiously.

“Um… Are you coming, too?”

“Oh, yes. You go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”

There was a bit of a clog at the rink entrance. Sonic was taking a little bit of extra time figuring out skating. He clung to the railing while Dad ran through the basics. Knuckles stood at the threshold, listening in. Tails came beside him and realized that he couldn’t reach the railing. Uh-oh. Well, that was alright. He could learn without the figurative training wheels.

Knuckles let out an annoyed hum and Tails instinctively cringed. Was Knuckles annoyed that they’d been caught by Sonic? That he had to explain himself to Mom?

“You are too short,” Knuckles said. He grabbed the edge of the baseboard with one mitt and held out the other. “Hold on to me.”

“Oh… thanks Knuckles.” Tails took the offered mitt. Knuckles’ mitt was practically as big as Tail’s whole torso so his hand looked extra teeny tiny in his older brother’s giant fist. With Knuckles leading the way, they took their first unsteady steps out onto the ice. It was nice that Knuckles had offered to help. Made him feel… the opposite of how being scared of annoying him felt.

“Oh, Tails!” Tom called from where he was trying to get Sonic to stand right. “Do you want a bucket?”

“What?” Tails looked up to see another little kid scooting around the middle of the rink, using a stack of upside-down buckets to keep his balance. The kid was staring at them of course, but a sharp look from Knuckles made him stop.

Tails appreciated the ingenuity of the bucket but… he looked up at Knuckles who looked equally unimpressed with the technique. “Um… I’m okay,” he said.

“You sure?” Tom asked. “The bucket won’t fall down and take you with it.”

“I will not fall!” Knuckles said, outraged.

He fell immediately. Then Sonic laughed so hard that he fell too. Tails avoided the pile-up only because Knuckles let go of him.

“Alright, we will try this again!” Knuckles said, determined. “Hold my tail and I can use my arms for balance.” He turned and pointed his funny crooked tail in Tail’s direction.

“Uh… won’t that hurt if I fall and pull on it?”

“Of course not!” Knuckles boasted. “The bend is for little ones learning to walk to hold onto!”

“Really?” Tom and Sonic asked as one. Sonic’s skepticism was undercut by the way he was slowly and unintentionally doing the splits against the boards. Tom rushed to rescue him.

“That is what my father said…” Knuckles trailed off like it’d only just occurred to him that might’ve been just a little kid story. “Regardless, my tail is very sturdy. Much stronger than yours. You can pull all you need.”

The little tip wiggled like it was waving to Tails to go on ahead and grab it. Tails hesitantly took hold. It felt like a rock covered in bristles… just like all the rest of his brother’s ‘one million percent muscle’ body.

“Okay, I think I’m ready to try again!” Sonic said. He pushed forward, moving along with half his usual grace. Tom kept close to his side, glancing back at Knuckles and Tails and looking around for Mom.

Knuckles took a few experimental steps forward, dragging Tails after him.

Tails wobbled and bobbed, his tails whipping this way and that as he tried to keep his balance. Knuckles glanced back at him over his shoulder and he feared for a moment that he was tugging too much. “You know, you do fly with your tails. They must be quite strong! Have you ever tried lifting weights with them?”

“Oh, um…” Tails' knees shook as he tried to keep his balance. “I’ve lifted you while flying, does that count?”

And then Knuckles actually smiled! Tails was so surprised–he could count on one hand the number of times he’d made Knuckles smile. Distracted, he stumbled and wobbled, trying to keep his balance while his feet kept moving without him. Even when he thought for sure he would fall, Knuckles’ tail was completely firm and still.

“Lean forward more,” Knuckles said. “And bend your knees a bit.”

“What he said,” Dad added. “It helps if you lower your center of gravity.”

Tails thought his center of gravity was easily the lowest in the whole rink, but he did what they said. It did help.

Knuckles focused his attention on the ice below them, taking smooth, short steps. Tails watched his feet and tried to move the same way. Knuckles’ movements became more confident, but Tails was still unsteady. He looked up at his big brother’s broad back and watched how his dreads swayed from side to side over the back of his backpack, purposefully shifting his weight with each step. Tails mimicked his movements, stepping in time with Knuckles. Immediately his movements felt smoother. He was getting the hang of it!

Mom skated up beside them. Like Dad, she didn’t need to hold the wall at all.

Dad looked over expectantly.

“I put Knuckles’ shoes in our locker.”

“Because of the Stinky Shoe Bandit?” Sonic asked as he did a funny T-pose shuffle across the ice.

“Because I realized his shoes would be harder to replace if someone decided they wanted to steal shoes–”

“Because they’re so stink–”

“Because they’re special shoes from outer space.”

Knuckles puffed up at that. “My shoes have received a place of high honor!”

Sonic rolled his eyes so hard he lost his balance and had to cling to the wall. “That’s literally nothing to brag about,” he said.

Knuckles huffed. “Well then, how about this?” He let go of the wall and pushed away, skating around Dad and Sonic and pulling Tails after him.

“Woah!” Tails cried out in surprise and delight. He hung on tight, keeping his posture like Dad and Knuckles suggested. Knuckles was going fast enough to blow his bangs back and Tails tummy flipped whenever his balance shifted too quickly. But it was fun! Like flying, but even easier!

When he realized Knuckles wasn’t going to return to grabbing the wall, Tails focused on copying his movements. It was just like dancing with Sonic–all he had to do was follow his brother's lead! Halfway around the rink, he had it down.

“What the heck, you hadn’t even heard of ice skating this morning!” Sonic said as the two of them passed him a second time.

“I am a fast learner,” Knuckles gloated without stopping.

“Tell that to our last two microwaves!”

“I cannot hear you because of how much faster than you I am going!”

The third time they passed Sonic, Tails felt confident enough to slowly let go of Knuckles’ tail. His older brother looked over his shoulder, slowing as Tails came up beside him. He wobbled a little, but stayed upright.

“You are a quick learner too!” Knuckles praised.

Tails flushed under his fur. “Heh, I um… I had a good teacher.”

There was a loud thumping and scuffing sound and they both looked over and watched as Sonic hurried across the center of the rink, pushing an overturned bucket in front of him. Halfway through he jumped up and sat on top, letting his momentum carry him.

Knuckles and Tails stopped as Sonic drifted to a halt in front of them. “I have decided,” he said magnanimously. “Since you two are both so slow off the ice: I will be a gentleman and let you take the W here.”

Knuckles shot Tails a cocky grin. “Perhaps I should teach Sonic now too.”

Sonic leaned back on his bucket with a frown. “How come I can’t tease you about the shoelaces, but you can tease me about ice skating?”

Tails suppressed a wince. Knuckles probably wouldn’t like the reminder. But Knuckles must have been having too good a time, because he actually answered: “Because my fingers cannot bend that way, but your feet work just fine.”

“Touche.”

“Also I was not teasing that time. I thought it might be more helpful to receive training from someone more similarly proportioned to you than Tom.”

“‘Similarly proportioned’,” Sonic repeated. He looked Knuckles up and down then looked at Tails. “Okay, maybe between the two of you.”

“Tails can help too!”

“I can?” Tails didn’t think he was that good yet.

“Yes, you are very good at being a helpful brother!” Knuckles smiled at him and there was a knowing gleam in his eye. Maybe Tails’ lie earlier hadn’t been that good after all. But Knuckles didn’t seem mad at all, he actually seemed appreciative!

“Alright, I’ll allow the both of you to help me. But first!” Sonic tipped his head to the side and Tails followed his gaze to see Mom and Dad skating along the wall, holding hands while Mom showed something to Dad on her phone.

Sonic shifted on the bucket so he was seated squarely and held out both hands. “You two can pull me!”

“And that will help you learn?” Knuckles asked.

“Nope, but if you pull me super fast and let go I’ll go flying and it’ll be awesome! But we aren’t supposed to do it so that means we can only do it once.”

***

“One more picture! Sonic demanded as they stepped off the ice.

Tails fumbled after him. It felt weird walking after skating so long!

“One sec!” Dad said, pulling his skates off.

Mom had already taken lots of pictures (some very sneakily while the three of them had been goofing off on the ice), but she and Dad seemed to be game for any photo opportunity where Sonic would voluntarily stay still.

Sonic was busying himself taking a bunch of silly selfies with the bucket when Tails noticed Knuckles sitting on the bench behind Dad. The corners of his mouth slipped down as he looked down at his skates. He probably couldn’t untie his shoes either.

Mom appeared, kneeling by Knuckles’ feet with a smile.

“Let me help you get those off,” she said.

Knuckles’ expression crumpled into a pout and for a second it looked like he was going to insist on doing it himself. Mom handed him his snap shoes. “Also here’s these back from the honored locker.”

“Ah! My shoes return, victorious!”

“What did they win?” Mom grabbed one of his skates.

“Most important shoes!”

She laughed, undoing the knot and uncinching the strings in quick, smooth motions. “Dad and I were thinking about getting some hot cocoa, what do you think?”

“I think that I like cocoa. And it will help to warm you up.”

“Warm me up?”

“Both of you! You fuss over us to wear these–” he pulled at his jacket “--over our fur when you have no fur of your own! I worry, you know.”

Mom beamed. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s sweet of you to worry.” She patted his ankles. “And you’re right, I could use some warming up! Get your shoes changed and we’ll go get in line!”

Knuckles looked down to see Mom already had his skates undone. He looked like he’d hardly realized when she’d done it. Honestly Tails was impressed, but Mom liked to tell stories about vets needing fast hands so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Hey Tails!” Sonic appeared in front of him, pushing the bucket into his hands. In a second he was behind him, hands under Tails’ arms, and zooming the both of them over to Knuckles.

“One last picture!” Sonic ordered. “Us and Bucket Buddy!”

“I agree, we should commemorate Sonic’s noble steed.” Knuckles patted the top of the bucket. “Thank you for throwing Sonic into the wall.”

“I’m pretty sure that was you. Using your strength when I said not to–”

“I did not! It must have been Tails.”

“What?!”

“Alright, I’m ready,” Dad said as he pulled out his phone.

Sonic leaned in on one side as Knuckles leaned into the other. The air was quite cool but Tails felt very cozy with his brothers on either side.

“Smile!” Dad said.

And Tails did.

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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 2 months

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I think my favorite difference between the comic and movie is that in the movie, they live in an isolationist fortified city and their only concept of religion is regarding Gloreth. They treat her like a God, all the way down to using her name as an expletive.

Meanwhile in the Comic they live in just. A regular medieval (albeit sci-fantasy with modern elements) city 😭 and they celebrate Christmas and it is CALLED Christmas, and they say "God" as an expletive which means that Christianity, and by extension Jesus Christ Himself exist in the canon of the Nimona Comic Universe

#I like to headcanon that pre-Gloreth people practiced real world religions in the movieverse #an easter egg is in my fics ONLY Nimona says “Oh my God” while everyone else says Gloreth #because she's the only one who can remember the concept of a God existing 😭#anyway do we think Comic Ambrosius is/was a Christian and it contributed to his endless issues or #not that religion/Christianity is always a bad influence but I feel like in this context it defo would be lol #nimona #nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona graphic novel #nimona analysis #nimona comparison

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annamariedarkholmes · 1 month

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three tickets to challengers please

#ninety percent of rogue/pyro/iceman fic is her forcing them to kiss so she can watch lmao #the dudes in challengers call themselves FIRE AND ICE #the college scenes all take place during the mid-00’s #pyro #rogue #iceman #st. john allerdyce #anna marie darkholme #bobby drake #aaron stanford #anna paquin #shawn ashmore #xmen #x #movieverse #that screenwriter was clearly a shipper back in the day and i respect it

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northpen · 6 months

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i finished writing chapter 1 of my new fic (i'm going to write it to completion before uploading it) so here is a sneak peek of the introduction!! (warning for needles and a character being sedated)

1. LLOYD — 07:22 AM

Nobody likes Lloyd Garmadon. And they especially don’t like him the day after a Garmadon attack on Ninjago City.

It hurts, but Lloyd can’t bring himself to blame them. His father’s attacks hurt people. They level buildings. They destroy lives. They make people angry, and angry people need a target for their aggression. Since Lord Garmadon is good at hiding, they turn to the next best thing: his son.

This makes going outside pretty dangerous. On normal days, it isn’t uncommon for strangers to yell at him, or attack him, or even try to follow him home from school. If a Garmadon attack is particularly destructive, Lloyd doesn’t bother leaving his apartment at all—people have the tendency to get a little stabby when the damage is bad enough. It just isn’t safe for him.

Last night was the worst attack they’d seen all year. Lloyd would need to have an actual death wish to risk showing his face on the street.

It’s a good thing he doesn't plan on being outside for more than ten minutes.

After getting dressed, Lloyd reaches below his sheets and sticks his hand into a slit in the mattress. He pulls out a small satchel of electronics. Now, these aren’t just any electronics—they’re gifts from Blue, resident tech designer of the Secret Ninja Force. Among the goodies are a stun gun, smoke pellets, by-pass keys, and a number of other devices he could use for self-defence. Their presence in his mattress has always made him feel a little safer at home.

Lloyd upends the bag over the floor. He pushes the smoke pellets out of the way, then crushes each device underfoot. Once they’re reduced to small enough pieces, he sweeps them up and dumps them in the toilet. He tosses in the smoke pellets and flushes them away.

Before returning home last night, he ditched his ninja communicator in a pile of rubble. His gi is stored under bricks somewhere else in the city. There is absolutely nothing in his apartment or on his person that could connect him to the Green Ninja.

You see, Lloyd doesn’t plan on being safe today. But he doesn’t plan on dying, either.

He’s going to be abducted instead.

08:10 AM

If this were a normal school day, Lloyd would leave his apartment building through the fire escape and make his way to school through Ninjago City’s alleyways. He would move with his hood up and head down to conceal his face. He would hide behind dumpsters and boxes if he heard anyone else in the alleyway. He would take different routes to make it impossible for someone to trace his path back to his apartment building. No one knows where he lives, and Lloyd intends to keep it that way—it’s the only place where he can be himself without facing danger.

Today, he leaves his building not via the fire escape, but through the front entrance. He walks along a main road, hood down and chin up to give anyone passing by a clear view of his face. If anyone is looking for Lloyd Garmadon this morning, they’ll find him. And he knows people are looking for him.

A few blocks ahead of him, a couple of men stand beside an idling van with tinted windows. While crossing a busy intersection, he sees another van waiting on an adjacent road. One of the men posted outside is conducting a sweep of the area. When he sees Lloyd, he puts a handheld radio to his mouth and starts speaking.

Lloyd steps onto the same block as the first van. His heart beats quicker with anticipation. As he moves to pass the van, one of the men steps directly into his line of sight. Lloyd crashes head first into his chest.

It’s a little hard to act annoyed, but he does his best. “Ugh, watch it,” he grumbles. He tries to step around the enforcer, but he moves to block his path once more.

The enforcer opens his jacket, giving Lloyd a peak at the long blade strapped to his chest. With a smile, he asks, “Did you need a lift to school today, Garmadon?”

Before Lloyd can respond, the enforcer grabs him by his shirt and pulls him towards the van. Lloyd puts up a pretend struggle, pulling at his arms and kicking his knees, but refrains from using one of the many tricks he knows that could be used to get out of his grasp. Another enforcer opens the van’s back doors and helps drag Lloyd inside the rest of the way.

The doors are shut behind them. A thick bag is pulled over Lloyd’s head, robbing him of his vision. Someone binds his wrists behind his back with scratchy rope. Once they're done, they use their weight to pin him to the van’s floor. As the van pulls away, the rumbling engine rattles his skull painfully.

“Ow,” he mumbles. He makes a half-hearted attempt to throw off the person on top of him. They punish him by pulling back his head and slamming it against the floor.

“Shut up!” they command. “If you keep talking, we’ll gag you.”

That isn’t threatening enough to silence him. “What do you want from me?

Another voice—the enforcer from outside—speaks up. “We want your father. We want him gone. You’re going to help us do that.”

Lloyd opens his mouth to protest, but falls short of speaking when he feels something prick his arm. The effect is immediate. Within seconds, his body feels heavy as lead and he can barely think at all.

Sedation. Of course.

“Just sit tight, kid,” the enforcer says. “This will be over before you know it.”

With sick satisfaction, Lloyd smiles at how wrong they are. All of his kidnappers are wrong.

They want to use him as bait for Lord Garmadon. Unfortunately for them, Lloyd’s father doesn’t care for him at all—he won’t exchange peace for Lloyd’s life. This whole plan of theirs is going to end up as yet another fruitless attempt to save the city from Garmadon’s attacks.

That doesn’t mean it won’t save him. As long as he doesn’t die in the process, Lloyd will leave this kidnapping an innocent man. The world will finally realize that Lloyd has nothing to do with his father and leave him alone.

Okay, so maybe this isn’t the smartest way to prove his innocence. But Lloyd has tried every other trick in the book, and sixteen long years of isolation and undeserved hostility are starting to make him a little desperate. This is a huge gamble, but it’s one he’s willing to take. It’s one he has to take.

Nobody likes Lloyd Garmadon. This abduction is going to change that for good.

#fun little masked movieverse au #where no one can decide if they want to look for the missing green ninja #or try to rescue lloyd from his kidnappers #ninjago #fic: shark bait #wip #my fics

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bardicious · 5 months

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Hi friend do you have any Charles/Erik fic recommendations of a gentle variety? I watched the First Class era recently and am just….a lil broken up Re:: the pain of Charles losing his best friend and his sister at the same time… and then bottling up that pain for as long as he could until “you took her away and you left me!”

Okay, nonnie! I've got a few here that may interest you. Now, I'm a big fan of hurt/comfort fics, so I can't promise anything too gentle, unfortunately. 😅 (Most of my bookmarks are hella dark apparently) Anyway! Ill list you some I recently read, and mostly remember.

How Still My Love by Regann

"A mysterious sleeping disease, three loyal guardians, and a friend-turned-foe with unclear motives. It might sound like something out of a fairy tale but it's life after Cuba in the Xavier manor for what's left of the so-called X-Men. When Charles can no longer lead them, it's up to Hank, Alex and Sean to figure out a way to protect their mentor, especially once Erik comes seeking an audience. (Variously nicknamed "the Fairytale Fix-it," "Snow Charles and the Three Wishes," and "Alex feels via Charles/Erik." All three are pretty accurate.)"

This one I highly recommend, it's so cute, and the way the author played with fairy tales is fun. Fair warning tho, Erik doesn't stay at the end of this fic. But Charles' heart is a bit more mended.

Second Chances by justavagrant

This one is a time travel fic. Basically young child age Charles, Raven, and Erik replace their older counterparts. The kids build a close friendship real quick, and I believe it's ongoing.

Another Like Me by Ad_astrah

It's 1950, young Charles is getting his powers under control. He meets Erik, 19 years old, who's tracking down Nazis and killing them. They go on a little adventure together.

Elpis by garrideb

Cute protective Erik, injured Charles. This fic is a treat!

Not Yet by GenuineSnoof

"AU - No Beach Divorce and no bullet, but Erik still didn't stay at the school for good. They have an established "with benefits" relationship."

Cold Hands, Warm Heart by pinkoptics

Cherik fic set in Genosha!

Idiot Control Now by cygnaut

"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."

Come Together by blarfkey

Series of fics, from Peter's point of view. Decent amounts of Cherik.

Peter's Stepdad by nzeedee

"Peter takes his time to observe and learn more about Erik as he works up the courage to make a family connection. Soon he realizes that Charles is a valuable asset in Erik's life and they may come as a unified pair."

AND some honorable mentions:

First Class Era:

5 Ways Logan Fixed Everything (Like a Boss) by Starlingthefool

Reverse Polarity by smilebackwards (powerswap fic, can't remember well tho)

What Not To Expect When You're Not Expecting It by thehoyden (mpreg, but if you're not into that, I'm not usually either, I think this one was done in a fun way)

DOFP:

A source of knowledge, a source of hope by redaurorarora

Post/Apocalypse: (these might be my favorite, I'm a sucker for comforting charles after apocalypse)

More by humanveil

things we lost in the fire by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

all the things i thought I knew (I'm learning again) by spacenarwhal

Hope you like these, nonnie! Sorry if they couldn't be more gentle! I do hope they're more satisfying than the end of FC. 💀 I know your pain.

#Bardicious Asks #Anonymous #cherik #cherik recs #cherik fic #first class fic #x men #Between Rage and Serenity #xmen #xmen movieverse #xmen dofp #xmen first class #xmen apocalypse #most of my bookmarks involve SO much pain lmao #so I really went for the ones I mostly remembered #I don't think any of these ended with heartbreak #the first one is cute #I wish I could give more!#if I find new ones Ill add to this post

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aphantimes · 10 months

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am i really shit at looking or are knuckles centric fics p uncommon

#looking through the knuckles character tag on ao3 #and hes sooo rarely a major character i swear #let alone the focus 😭#tho i do exclude a bunch of stuff that doesnt interest me #shipping and movieverse stuff #i can find plenty of oneshots about him (which tbf is the only thing i write for him as well)#but a full length multi chapter fic??#am i blind or are they next to non-existent??#the ones i know of i have reread many many times i love them so much #i treasure them <3 #eeghhh i should get off my ass and start writing again #if just to satiate my own hunger for knuckles content lmaoo

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puhpandas · 7 months

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I want to write my hypothetical movie Gregory fic sooo bad. I want to get out all of my thoughts and ideas for my version of his movieverse counterpart. please brain let me write what I have planned 🙏🙏

#thinking of writing a much smaller fic instead of a multichapter plotty fic since i only really want to write movieverse gregory #might change my document a bit #pandas.txt #pandas talks #hypothetical movie Gregory

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magically-strange · 11 months

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Third new chapter of the summer is up! Read up, me hearties! ❤️

#strange magic #bog king #marianne #butterfly bog #dawn #sunny #potionless #roland #spread the lofe #slow burn #a03 fic #alt-movieverse

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salt-is-a-terrible-currency · 10 months

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Zealot

Written for day 26 of the Narcos fandom smut alphabet over on @narcosfandomdiscord

Fandom: Narcos, Deadpool movieverse

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Words: 3 991 (this one really got a life of its own)

Pairing: Javier x f!reader, Nathan 'Cable' Summers x f!reader

Prompt: zeal

Warnings: verbal fight, threats of gun violence, one night stand, rough sex, biting, some dirty talk, makeup sex

Tagging: @futurewife

It's the last prompt and I figured go big or go home. Then this monstrosity happened.

"Fuck you," you snap. Javier's face twitches but he doesn't respond, instead leaning back against the wall out on your patio for a second before finally nodding. You follow him back inside the house, past the kitchen that’s still a mess from your dinner that he interrupted by inviting himself over, and into the hallway where he grabs his jacket and shrugs it on. As he steps outside, you decide to get another kick in for good measure:

"Show up at my house again and I'll shoot you," you say, then slam the door shut in his face.

⁂

You already know you look good, especially tonight, but the reactions you get when stepping into the bar less than 24 hours after your blow-up with Javier is still an ego boost you sorely needed. A group of regulars throw glances in your direction, one of them even leaning out of his seat to get a better look at you as you saunter past and head for the row of high chairs facing the desk. With a glass of overly sweet wine in your hand, you glance around the bar. There’s no lack of men here tonight, though most of them you cross off the list immediately. Some of them for being married, and others for being old enough to be your grandfather. You order a second glass of wine and return to weighing your options.

Just as you’re considering who to sidle up to - Benicio Moreno or Marcus Ruiz - a figure appears in the open door. He’s in heavy boots, some sort of utility pants with countless pockets and a thick belt, a gray t-shirt fitted so snugly that if the temperature were to drop by even a few degrees you’re certain you’d be able to see his nipples. You bite back a giggle at the thought. Thick arms- the left one with marred and partially tattooed skin - and a buzzcut in need of a touch-up. A few heads turn the man’s way as he enters but nothing like when you did. You feel like you’ve hit the jackpot. The stranger’s from out of town, he has to be, and there’s barely any women at the bar tonight. You wait for him to pull out another chair, two seats to your right, and listen as he places his order in a gruff voice. It’s unladylike to be desperate, your mother and grandmother both told you as much, so you sip your wine and pretend not to notice his presence. Five more seconds, you think to yourself as you down the last of your second glass, then I’ll introduce my-

"What are you having?" A gruff voice interrupts. You jump, startled to find that the man has shifted to the seat next to you.

"White wine," you answer, quickly recovering to flash a smile at him. They only have the one kind and it's not very good, but it's cheap and it does the job. Now that the man’s up close, you get a better look at him. He’s got a sharp jaw with a hint of stubble on it, a faint scar at the back of his right cheek and…and, you realize, there’s something about his left eye. Like it’s a different shade from his right. Not different enough to be blatantly obvious but here, up close, you can tell they’re not identical. He flags the bartender down to refill your glass and you raise it to his in a silent toast.

"What's your name, stranger?" you ask. He leans forward on the desk, face turned to you.

"I'm Nathan." Now that you’re not startled by him speaking, the sound of his voice goes straight to your core. It’s a voice you can imagine growling praise as you suck his soul out through his dick. You uncross your legs and lean forward a little.

"You new to town, Nathan?" You’re pretty damn sure of the answer but it doesn’t hurt to double-check. It’s just a glance but you catch it: his eyes dropping to your cleavage before meeting your gaze again.

"I've been to the area before, but not Laredo,” he explains. “Got hired for a job, finished early so I figured I'd take a night of rest before starting the drive back." You don’t realize how much the wine has affected you until you hear yourself answer him:

"Well, Nathan, I have to tell you I don't foresee your night being very restful." What the hell did I just say? Nathan, to your relief, doesn’t take offense. He chuckles, low and raspy, then leans in close to your ear. You’re already feeling faint and when his hand lands at your thigh your eyes flutter shut.

"Your place or mine?" he asks.

⁂

The way his lips move against you is a complete opposite compared to Javier’s.

Nathan tears the dress from your body. It joins his discarded pants and t-shirt at the threshold to your bedroom. He falls back against the headboard, pulls you on top of him with your back to his scarred and tattooed chest, then reaches under the backs of your thighs so that your legs bend at the knee.

“Go on, sweetheart” he says, nipping at your jawline, “Get me inside you.” He knows you’re wet enough to take him, ran his fingers along the seat of your soaked panties while you were fumbling to unlock the front door. You do as he says, wrapping your fingers around his cock and taking note of how he growls as you notch him to your opening. With a shift of your hips, he disappears into you. He gives you but a split second to adjust before he moves. Your whole body jolts as Nathan pounds into you, making sure you can feel every last bit of him. Every curve and dip, down to the last vein of his cock. His hands grasp your legs in a vice-like grip. His hot breath at the back of your head sends chills through your body. A stark contrast to your skin which feels on fire, sweat running down your brow and stinging your eyes. Your breathing coming out in bursts with each punch of his cock into your cunt. The way he works your body has you trembling, the first whispers of your climax building in your core like a knot winding itself tighter and tighter. When it bursts, your back arches and you sob his name like it’s a prayer. Nathan doesn’t let up.

“Gorgeous girl,” he drawls, “The things I’ll do to you.” He slams into you another one, two, three times before tensing like bowstring and snarling like a beast unhinged. His hands keep you there as rope after rope of cum gushes into you. You feel dizzy, teetering on the edge of a giggle.

Nathan releases your legs and you tip back against his broad, sweaty chest. His lips press to yours in a hungry kiss which you blindly reciprocate, little sparks of electricity still running along your skin from just the memory of his cock inside you. You whine as his lips disappear but soon something else taps against your mouth. You open your eyes, finding two fingers held in front of you.

“Suck them,” he commands, bumping the tips against your lips, “Want you to get them wet like they’d been in that tight little pussy of yours.” You find his darkened eyes, see the lust in them. Feeling devious, you take only the tips of his fingers into your mouth and bite. Not enough to draw blood but enough that he hisses a curse under his breath. You turn to face him, getting on your hands and knees. Nathan’s chest reverberates with a growl.

“What’re you playing at, sweetheart?” Inching closer, you bite your lower lip at him. He’s still got his fingers up and you stick your tongue out, licking where previously you nipped.

“I’m not playing at anything,” you say innocently. Nathan’s lips twist into a grin. You take his fingers as deep as you can, stopping just short of gagging, and seal your lips tightly around them to give one long, firm suck. A slight tickle at your shoulder tells you that he’s letting his free hand wander. It brushes across your collarbones, lightly presses at the hollow of your throat, then slides down to cup your breast. Gentle at first, then harder as you withdraw from his fingers - a string of saliva prolonging the contact between you.

“That wet enough?” you ask, again feigning innocence. His face twists into something animalistic, and as it does he twists your nipple. You whine, equal parts pain and pleasure coursing through you.

“On your back, sweetheart.” His tattooed arm wraps around you, helps guide you through the abrupt change in position, while he uses the other to prop himself up. Your back hits the mattress, a cold spot beneath your buttcheek that must be from where his cum has leaked out of your throbbing cunt. Nathan’s scruff chafes your chin as he pries your lips apart with his tongue, licking at the roof of your mouth until your mind is buzzing with nothing but thoughts of how it would feel to have him to that between your legs. As if he’s read your thoughts, Nathan retreats from your lips. He crawls down the length of you, kissing down your chest, lingering briefly at your sensitive breasts before moving down to your belly button where he also presses his lips. His mouth is hot on your skin, forcing your already unsteady breathing into nothing but shallow rasps of air. He pauses as he reaches the spot between your parted legs. You can only see the top of his head, his eyes turned to your exposed sex. Then you feel it. His tongue moving along your seam in methodical, determined movements. You cry out, your hips jolting up only for his hands to grab and press you back down so that he can continue without interruptions. Even though the room is practically a sauna at this point, even though your skin feels on fire, you shiver at the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. He brings a hand up, spreading your folds open for his tongue to push inside.

“Nate…” you rasp. He hums into you at the same as his thumb swipes across your aching clit and again you try to buck up against him but again he stops you. His hand cracks against the inside of your thigh, setting off another ripple of heat between your legs, and you take the slap for the warning it is. Determined to stay put, you reach down to his shoulders and hold on. Just the feel of his muscles rippling beneath your hands is enough to make your eyes roll back in your head. His hand finds its way back between your legs to continue the ministrations. There’s nothing soft about how he circles it, but neither is he adding enough pressure for you to cum. Your nails dig ever deeper into his skin with each thrust of his tongue, certain that he’ll have marks in the morning to match the deep bruises from his tight grip on your hips, and at the moment you couldn’t care less. Nathan pulls back, the loss of his tongue inside you leaving empty and aching. But only for a brief moment. He seals his lips around your clit, hands on your inner thighs keep you spread wide, and sucks. The orgasm comes seemingly out of nowhere, your whole body tensing and then relaxing in an instant as wave after wave of bone-melting heat overtakes you. You feel like you’re floating, like you can see stars.

From the corner of your eye, you see Nathan rise onto his knees and wipe his mouth. Then he disappears from view but the shift of the mattress and his heavy groan tells you that he’s laid down next to you. Mind and body still buzzing, you scoot closer until you’re skin to skin and seek him out with a kiss on his shoulder. He meets you in one, lips to lips, but when he tries for a second you slip further down his body to instead suck at the spot where his tattooed pec transitions into unmarked skin. He tastes of salt and cigarette smoke. You go even lower, finding his happy trail and burying your nose in it while smothering a giggle. A kiss to his left hipbone, then to his right, and you find yourself face to face with his once again erect cock. You peer up at Nathan, bat your eyelashes.

“Want to have a taste, sweetheart?” he asks, thrusting forward to let the reddened tip of his cock brush against your lips. You smile at him, dazed, and let your jaws fall open in invitation. He chuckles darkly, runs his cock along your lower lip. You surge forward, taking him in your mouth and squeezing him at the root with your fist like you’ve noticed many men enjoy. Based on the obscene moan that escapes him, Nathan is no different. You begin to bob along his length, coating him with as much saliva as you can - in addition to your own slick still clinging to him from before - to ease your way and keeping your fist tightly locked around the base of him. When he shifts his hips, you dig the nails of your left hand into his thigh. Warning him like he did you. He huffs but his hips do sink back against the mattress and you smile around his length. Another couple of bobs and you pull back for a breath of air, sliding your fist right below the head and rubbing the slit in it with the pad of your thumb.

“Nate,” you coo at him. “Need you to fuck my throat.” Immediately, work hardened fingers move down and grasp at the back of your head to keep you still, your head in the right angle, as he begins to thrust savagely into you. The first stroke is enough to make you gag, saliva running from the corners of your mouth and staining the bedlinen even further. With each thrust, your nose hits the bush of dark hair between his legs. You gag and sputter, legs trembling with the effort not to choke around him. It’s a lot, and at the same time there’s nothing like the kick you get from hearing Nathan’s pained groans as he fucks into you. When he tenses, the back and forth motion of his hips ceasing, you press forward from your current position at his tip and once more bury your face in the dark patch of hair - nuzzling it for good measure. Nathan gives up an inhuman sound. He floods your mouth, the taste of salt erupting at the back of your tongue. His short-trimmed nails scrape over your skull. Not holding you there anymore, just touching. When you’re content that there’s no more to receive, you pull away with a wet sound and crawl further up into bed to once again face him. Nathan flashes a lopsided grin.

“I don’t know which idiot pissed you off and made you go to the bar tonight,” he says, “but his stupidity is my luck.”

⁂

You ogle Nathan as he pulls his jacket back on in your hallway, the scent of your soap clinging to his skin. ‘I smell like a girl’, he gruffed and you replied, cheek-in-tongue: ‘Yeah, you do. Because you slept with one’. He chuckled at that. You open the door, go to walk him to his car but stop in your tracks at the sight of something unexpected. Someone unexpected. Javier is walking up your driveway, hands in his pockets and looking every bit as stone faced as last time you saw him. First, you’re shocked. Then, you’re pissed. You cross your arms over your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you demand. Javier, catching onto the fact that you’re outside,

lifts his gaze to you, goes to speak but stops. Stares. Right past your shoulder. Next to you, Nathan steps into the late morning sun. He too stops as he notices the new arrival and the tension in the air.

"This your husband or something?" he asks you, brow furrowed.

"No,” you say loudly, “this is a piece of shit who I told never to show up at my doorstep again." Javier’s whole face scrunches up in that way it does when you know he’s trying very hard not to say something he’ll regret. After a beat of silence, his gaze flits from you to Nathan.

"Do you mind giving us a moment?" Javier asks. Your eyebrows jump up at that. You hadn’t expected something so polite from him. Nathan turns to you.

"He's not going to hit you or some shit, is he?" You shake your head. Even if Javier ever got the idea of laying hands on you, you’re close enough with his dad that you’re confident the younger Peña would regret it for the rest of his life. Nathan throws his hands up.

"Alright then, I'm leaving," he announces, before turning to you and - with a grin - adding: “I had fun.” You return the smirk but say nothing. No sooner has Nathan closed the car door than Javier is striding toward you, arms crossed.

“What was that about, hm?” he demands as Nathan pulls out of the driveway. Guess the politeness was just for show. You sigh.

“I told you to fuck off, Javier.” You turn and head back inside, Javier hot on your heels.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling the door closed behind him. “Alright? I’m sorry I said your job doesn’t matter.” You stop, turn to face him. Now that he’s up close you can tell he looks like shit. There’s bags under his eyes, hair more ruffled than usual, and he reeks of cigarettes. He told you he’d quit last month. Something within you melts at the state of him. Javier sighs.

“I’d had a shit week and when you blew me off to work late I got upset,” he explains. “Shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” You mull over his apology. It’s not like the two of you are in a relationship, both of you are free to sleep with whoever, though more often than not you turn to each other for sex. You know he’s seen others when you were out of town, just like you’ve seen others. It’s just because you know each other, are comfortable with each other’s preferences in bed and confident in the fact that you’ll have a good time together.

“I’m not your girlfriend, Javi, you can’t demand my time like that again. And you certainly can’t get upset about me sleeping with someone else when I know for a fact you fucked Marianne Jamison last month when I was visiting family.” His face twitches.

“I know,” he says. “I was an asshole and I’ll make it up to you.” The last bit of anger melts away and you let your arms fall back to your sides.

“When?” you ask. Javier’s face changes, from the beaten down look into something you’re more used to seeing. Hunger. He doesn’t waste any time before he presses his mouth to yours. His kiss is dominating, showing you who is in control this time. And when he presses his tongue past the seam of your lips, your whole body melts to him like an ice cream cone in the Texas sun, readily submitting to him. There’s that buzz in your head again. And with it the feeling of pleasant warmth gathering between your legs. You barely realize that he’s moving you until your backside hits something and your eyes fly open, finding yourself in the kitchen with your back against the edge of the counter. Javier’s lips move lower, seeking out the mounds of your breasts. His fingers hook into the front of your tanktop, tugging at it to expose more for him to mouth at. Switching between gentle kisses and urgent sucking, it doesn’t take long before your nipples are practically aching from the ministrations. His hands seem to be covering every part of your body, all at once. His touch feels hot even with your tanktop and flimsy shorts preventing him from going fully skin to skin. He’s so fucking clever with his hands, the slightest touch of those rough fingers enough to stir the desire in the pit of your belly. He’s taken the time to learn how to get your body to respond to him, how to coax a climax out of you. It was one of the things you first fell for. Not in a romantic way, but in a way that made you feel safe. Lots of guys would’ve been happy to get their fill and then leave. Not Javier. For him, your pleasure is as important as his own and when he discovered how you reacted to a press, a brush, a pinch he took note. He’s a zealot, the map to your pleasure his manifesto, his sacred text. The sparks left behind by each kiss, each touch, sends waves of joy running down your spine. You reach out to palm his bulge, feel him twitch beneath your hand. He pulls your shorts down, finds you bare beneath them. As well as the bruises left behind by Nathan. For a moment, Javier stills. You hold your breath, waiting for him to come back to the present. Javier shakes his head, growls. Then he surges forward, covering the bruised with his own hands and grinding his still denim clad bulge against your exposed core. The texture of it makes it almost painful, but only almost. You try to ride against the seam, try to get yourself off before he can decide that he wants to drag things out. Just as you think you’re reaching that peak, Javier’s hands lock around your forearms.

“Turn for me,” he orders. With a whimper, you do as you’re told. To your surprise, Javier wastes no more time teasing. He simply bends you over the kitchen counter, and slams himself in.

You’d thought Nathan fucked you with zeal, which he did. But it’s nothing compared to what Javier is doing now. It’s as if he’s trying to consume you, or else crawl under your skin and become joined together forever. He finds your sweet spots, paying attention to them in turn. First, he grabs the back of your neck - the tips of his fingers lightly pressing until you moan for him. Then down your spine before sweeping around to grab at your hip bone and rubbing circles into it. Back up your front to cup first your left breast and then your right, giving each a squeeze. But it’s when he reaches down between your legs that the heat between your legs blossoms into something more. You jump at the first press of his thumb at your clit. Javier presses himself even closer to you then, locking you in between him and the counter. A few seconds of his digits swirling around your bud is all you need and then you’re falling apart. You scramble to find purchase against the counter, legs shaking - nearly caving - as he keeps thrusting into you. You hear the familiar sound of a groan, feel him grow taller between you as if he’s getting up on his toes and then he bursts inside you. Rope after rope of cum paints your inner walls, fills you to the brim. Javier doubles over, his chest pressed to your back.

“What do you think?” he breathes, his hips still shifting in a barely discernible pattern. “Am I forgiven yet?” You twist your head, press a kiss to full lips.

“Not yet,” you answer, equally out of breath. “But you’ll get there.”

#nffalphabet #javier peña fic #nathan cable summers fic #javier peña x f!reader #nathan cable summers x f!reader #narcos fic #deadpool movieverse fic

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