#or maybe it's one of those things he talks about doin but never actually plans on goin through with it

[sturnlsstuff]

MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo: part 2

pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader

summary: after finishing deals for today, chris calls you to "check" on you, but he ends up coming over and making a mess on your couch.

warnings: mdni, smut, sub!chris, dom!reader, handjob, pet names, kinda bratty reader + more...

a/n: part one here!! didnt plan to do more than one part but yall seemed to like it so here it is. once again english isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes

~~~~

chris wasn't planning to end up like this. on your couch, his hard throbbing dick leaking with precum aching for the release you refused to give him. it was such a pretty view for you. his brown hair was sticking out from under the hood of his black fresh love hoodie, his flushed cheeks and pink swollen lips, that he keeps biting to muffle his pathetic whines and moans, that escapes his mouth. all of this because of you. when he called you earlier, all he wanted was to actually check on you, since he was aware how much he wore you out after your last sex in his car two days ago. but you kept being sarcastic, your bratty attitude annoyed him, and he promised he'll come over once he's done with his deals, and then teach you how to keep your pretty little mouth shut. things took a different turn quick.

~~~~

(...)

"i'm tellin' you, ma, i just wanted to check on ya. why you so surprised, huh?" chris asks smirking and watching your cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, it was visible even through the screen.

"nothing, i'm just...." you sigh, deciding to finally change the topic. chris usually was texting you to ask if you're good if he went too hard on you, but he never calls. until now. "whatever, forget it. how long will you be there?"

"hmmm, i have two more people and then i'm done. what, you miss me?" he grins more when you roll your eyes in response.

"no, idiot, i don't.."

"that's interesting, sweetheart, you said somethin' else the last time we-"

"shut the fuck up." you cut him off, making his smirk widen.

"easy there, don't talk to me like that."

you roll your eyes again. "maybe go back working, what is your lazy ass doing on the phone, huh?"

"my lazy ass? you the one doin' nothin' all day on this couch while others are being productive."

"then come back to being productive, dickhead."

chris grins, narrowing his eyes. he was somewhere outside, you could barely see him because it was dark, but the light from the lantern fell on his face, highlighting his facial features. "careful, ma, don't get all arrogant on me. y'know if you were here right now, i'd shut your pretty mouth real quick."

"well, but i'm not with you there, soooo..."

"a'ight go back to lounging on the couch all day, watchin' those shitty ass movies." he looks up for a second, before looking down on his phone, you could hear some man's voice in the back.

"keep calling me lazy and i won't ever suck you off again." you raised your eyebrow, giving him a fake smile. he licks his lips, answering after a moment.

"oh c'mon, sweetheart, don't be a bitch."

"damn christopher, now you be callin' me a bitch? you're fucked." you shake your head, but a little smile is playing on your lips.

"stop acting all snarky and sarcastic, and maybe i will stop callin' you that."

"cry about it."

"keep it up, smartass, i'll make sure you gonna be the one cryin' when i come over."

you narrows your eyes, seeing his stupid smile on his face. "who said i will let you come over?"

"i'm finishing soon, see you there, ma. i'll be takin' out all that stupid words of yours, outta your pretty little mouth."

~~~~

he was asking himself, how did he end up with you making him whimper. when he stepped inside your house twenty minutes ago, he was so ready to make you regret talking to him like that, until he pulled you onto his lap and you started grinding down on him. he was trying to keep his control, but you just knew how to make him lose it.

all of this started because you told him he stole your outfit. you both were wearing black fresh love hoodies, the hood over your heads. the difference was you had grey sweatpants on and he had the black ones.

"no, YOU stole my outfit. you just copied me." he said to you, shaking his head with a grin.

"yes, 'cause the only thing on my mind is copying you."

"stop bein' childish"

"i am childish?" your eyes widen, looking at him as he's an idiot.

this banter quickly turned into you two making out and you teasing chris. your tongue sliding inside his mouth, your hips slowly moving, making a little bit of a friction. his dick was already hard, aching for your touch, but you weren't gonna give him what he wanted that fast.

"mmmhm, shit..." chris mutters against your lips, bucking up his hips but you quickly pressed them down with your hands, now breaking the kiss.

"oh, are u impatient?" you smile looking down at him. he opens his eyes, scanning your face for a bit, before reaching a hand to push your hood off your head and get a better look on your face. a little smile appears on his lips when he sees your messy hair. you press herself harder onto him, making him hiss.

"fffuck, ma, you gonna drive me insane-"

your hands travels under his hoodie, just running your long nails up and down his chest, before you start toying with the waistband of his sweatpants, continuing moving your hips.

chris watches you as you take your hand out from under his hoodie, and start to toy with the waist band of his sweatpants, he keeps staring up at you and his dick grows harder with every second.

“ughhhh...ffffuck i know exactly what you doin'..."

"yeah? what am i doing chris?" she plays innocent, keeping the eye contact with him and then she grinds against him more, his tip brushing against her pussy, making both of them whimper.

his lip between his teeth as he tries to control himself, but his cock is painfully sensitive, twitching in his pants. he puts his hands on the sides of your hips, pulling you down against him more as he groans a bit. you feel he's careful though, remembering he left bruises on your skin two days ago.

“shittt, you playin’ with me, mama.. stop doin' that"

"you want me to stop, hm?"

"ohh, no, don't stop doin' that, just... stop playin' with me.."

"and why would i?" she stops moving on him, her hand travels down and while looking him in the eyes, she starts stroking him through his sweatpants. chris lets out another quiet whine, throwing his head back on the couch, his dick leaking, begging for some kind of relief.

"cuz i'm hard as hell, it hurts"

she smiles, squeezing him slightly and answering after a moment. "that's cute."

"oh- fuckkkk, you fuckin' little tease-" he groans, closing his eyes for a moment.

you keep moving your hand, watching him trying so hard to hold back his moans, but he isn't able to. chris looks up at you, seeing how you’re so invested and watching him struggle and he feels you keep stroking him through his sweatpants, he’s so hard now from you just touching him like this.

"yeahhhh.. just like that.. oh god, that feels s'good..”

he groans softly again as you continue to stroke him through, he’s starting to leak more but his sweatpants are still in the way.

"ahh careful... you might cum in your pants." she smirks, biting her lip. she was getting more and more turned on just by watching him like this, but it wasn't about her today. today she needed to make him lose it.

he grins at you and he looks down seeing a small wet spot showing through on the sweatpants.

“i mean, you're doin' this to me, don't say that like it was my fault.."

"you can always hold back, y'know"

"oh, it's- fuck..." he cuts himself off when he sees you pulling down his sweatpants finally. "shiit, dont act all smartass again, y'know i cant when you do that to me-" he gulps, finishing his sentence but his whole focus is now directed on you.

your lip is between your teeth as you pull down his boxers, revealing his hard, aching, leaking with precum cock. you couldn't believe that you were the cause of his struggle, and that you could make him that desperate. you wrap your hand around him, rubbing his sensitive tip with your thumb and watching his reaction. he bites his lip, watching you, his tip twitching visibly and he moans again from your touch, he’s getting so much precum leaking out. he's fighting with himself, trying not to buck his hips up and start thrusting into your hand.

“ohhhh fucckkk.... shit please- just a little more... mmm, oh god.... ima cum if you keep doin' this-"

"what did you say?"

"fuck, p-please.."

"couldn't you said that sooner? you wouldn't be struggling so much..." she smiles hearing him begging and then starts slowly moving her hand up and down his length. she's still straddling him, his one hand digging into her thigh, and the other one on the couch to try and brace himself from how good it feels.

"s'good... fuck, so, so good..." he leans his head back, his eyes rolling back for a second as he gulps, but then he looks at you again, loving the sight in front of him, and also you just bring him closer to the edge.

"yeah? wanna cum already? how naughty.."

"oh- my god... mmmhh, please, mama- i'm so-"

your words just sets him off even more, his dick twitching in your hand as you now picks up your pace, making him groan. the way you're so dominant right now turns him on so much, he would never think he'd be liking it so much, but damn, he does.

"i... ughhh, you so good at this- fuck..." his fingers dig into your skin more, leaving new marks on your thighs, he's on the edge now.

"c'mon pretty boy, come for me, yeah?" you speed up your hand more, watching him intensely. your words stealing a louder moan from him, his dick twitches, he bucks up his hips and he releases all over himself. white strings of his cum on his black hoodie, all over your hand, his thighs and even on your couch. you have to bite on your lip to hold back a moan, while he squeezes his eyes for a moment, cursing under his breath. you slow down with your hand, stopping after a moment as he opens his eyes, looking up at you.

you smirk, making eye contact with him and slowly licking his cum from your hand. he groans in response, breathing heavily.

"damn, i might get hard again."

"freak."

"but you into it." he grins and pulls you into another sloppy kiss.

________________________

a/n: do we fw this or nah, lmk 🫦

[artzychic27]

Hello. I ❤️ your blog especially your science kids. May I see where one of them calls Marinette out like how Quagmire does it. Sorry for the awkwardness. This is my first time typing to somebody. 😊😊

Yes, honey! Yes! I have been waiting for this!

Simon, my favorite Irish tech geek, take the stand!

Marinette: Well, you don't need to look for somebody new. I'll hang out with you guys.

Marc: Yeah, you know, I don't think that's gonna work out, Marinette, 'cause of the whole Simon thing.

Marinette: What Simon thing?

Marc: Oh, you know, just that he hates you.

Marinette: Simon hates me?

Marc: Hates you.

Marinette: I... I don't get it. Why... why wouldn't Simon like me?

Marc: Because he thinks you're annoying. Like people who never shut up about their pets.

—

Marinette: Hey, Simon, what a coincidence. You and me just runnin' into each other. How, how ya doin'?

Simon: Fine.

Marinette: So… *Noticed Simon’s aunt at the checkout* Is that your mom? She’s beautiful.

Simon: That's my aunt, Marinette. My mother is dead to me, as is my father, and I hope they rot in their prison cells.

Marinette: Oh, God. I'm... I'm really sorry.

Simon: I got cousin who beat her husband. Wanna ask me about her, too?

—

Alya: Hey, what are you getting all dressed up for?

Marinette: I'm treating Simon to a night out.

Alix: Really? I thought he hated you. How'd you convince him to go?

Marinette: I tricked him. Sent him a phony card. He thinks he's going on a romantic date with Denise.

Myléne: But instead, you're going to show up.

Marinette: You got it.

Rose: Yikes.

Juleka: That's a recipe for disappointment.

—

Marinette: I'll bet you got... how do those things work?

Simon: What? My music videos? How does a music video work?

Marinette: Yeah.

Simon: … You want me to sit here and explain to you how a music video works?

Marinette: I don't know. Yeah.

Simon: You want to maybe just go?

Marinette: Simon, come on, I'm really trying hard here.

Simon: Who asked you to try hard?

Marinette: Nobody, but all... I'm trying to establish a friendship with you. All I've done is try to be nice to you, and you still don't like me. How can you not like me?!

Simon: … Okay. I'll tell you…. You are the worst person I know. You simped after Adrien while you were dating Luka and while Adrien was dating Kagami. The guy was writing you a song, gave you his favorite guitar pick, gave you free therapy, and that was how you repaid him? And to add insult to injury, you rubbed your love for Adrien right in his face. And you're so insensitive. You basically tried to kick Luka out of Kitty Section and make Adrien the lead guitarist? What the fuck? And what really bothers me, is you pretend you're this perfect girl who can do no wrong when all you are is a hypocrite, liar, and a word that’d make the Priest blush. Yeah, I lie; who hasn’t? At least I come clean about it in the end. I don't go on about how I hate liars and then stalk Lila trying to lie her way into Adrien’s pants, and then brag about how I’m some perfect angel trying to look out for everyone. You’re not a perfect angel. You’re a spoiled little, manipulative brat. You use those stupid dough eyes, tears, and sob stories about how much you love Adrien to get people to go along with your stupid plans. God, you make me sick! And you only delude yourself by thinking you're the greatest thing since slice bread, when you’re honestly just as bad as Chloé and Lila. Actually, you know, I should have known Denise didn't write me that note. Yeah, they actually have the guts to say things to my face without stammering like you do around Adrien when you’ve known the guy for almost a year! And I think what I hate most about you is your hypocrisy when it comes to Adrien’s love life, how he "deserves better," how Chloé is a spoiled brat only after Adrien for his looks, how Kagami is too controlling. Well, what have you done to prove that you’re not like them? I’ve only heard you obsess over his looks and “perfection.” Never heard you once talk about interests that Gabriel doesn’t force on him. You wanna get to know the guy? Talk to him! And, by the way, knowing Lila is a liar doesn't make you Jesus Christ. Yeah, I know about the Lila situation! And I don’t care! You wanna basically ruin your relationships with your friends by screaming in their faces, “Lila’s a liar!! Believe me, because I’m better than her!” Go ahead! Who the hell are you to act as if though you were in the right? Your impulsiveness in trying to expose her got you expelled, which isn't nearly as bad as how you treated your parents! Did you ever pay them back for what was meant to be a family trip to Shanghai? But you know what? I could forgive all of that, all of it… If you weren't such a bore. That's the worst of it, Marinette. You're just a sad, pathetic bore… *Sighs* Well, see ya, Marinette. Thanks for the fucking steak. *Leaves*

[retrobr]

Lazytown Shenanigans Pt. 7

I was too lazy and tired to make a post yesterday, so this time I have to talk about three episodes in a row: "Time to Learn," "Let's Go to the Moon," and "Robbie's Dream Team." And, therefore, this rambling is going to be the longest one in this series so far. I mean, THE LO-O-ONGEST one (you have been warned guys) 💀

Also I didn't take any screenshots from the "Time to Learn" episode and there are very few of the other two, so please accept my apologies in advance!!

It's very doubtful that someone will read it till the very end, but let's begin, I guess 😭

"Time to Learn."

I can't say that this episode was very interesting, at least compared to other ones that will be mentioned in this post very soon, but there were some amusing and cute moments. Maybe that's because I was tired once again while I was watching it, but whatever

The episode started with Robbie rambling about Sportacus, as usual 🤭. But anyway, this is not the most important part of that scene; I have some other things to say about it

First of all. In some previous posts I declared that Robbie is a fucking genius, which is true in my opinion, but omg. Bro is kinda stupid in terms of school subjects, such as math, for example. Not blaming him in any way, I sucked at math as well when I studied in school, but this somehow doesn't fit in with the fact that he can build such complex and knowledge-intensive mechanisms... Bro is stupid, but not completely I guess 😭

Second of all, it was kinda amusing to me that Stephanie didn't notice all those silly scribbles of Sportacus at all. She just looked at the blackboard and was like, "OMG ROBBIE YOU'RE DOIN' MATH THAT'S SO COOL." Girl look at those drawings, why don't you pay any attention to it 🙄

And third of all, I can't help but say that it was so freaking adorable that Stephanie took her time to help Robbie with math, and he was actually listening to her. Family bonding 🥹

But enough of that silly scene. I was somewhat surprised that Robbie didn't end up at least in the top five of the best antagonists; I mean, have you even seen what he's able to create using only improvised materials? Have you even known that he makes all that shit on his own and has no assistants at all? Even though his plans don't work out all the time, he's definitely not the worst, but not the best antagonist either. And I don't even want to hear anything about graduation from school (because of the lack of that, he was identified as the worst antagonist). He's pretty good at his occupation even without it

I've gotten too defensive, so let us continue. Being a pretty big fan of the NatM movie franchise as well, I was SO HAPPY to hear Amelia Earhart's name in this episode (she was in the second NatM movie). When Bessie asked kids about the first woman who flew across the Atlantic Ocean, I was like "OH SHIT I KNOW I KNOW WHO THAT WAS-"

Also I think that I remember the song from that episode. I have a vague memory of hearing that song in Russian dubbing when I was a kid, so that was a very nice experience 🥺

Some words about the funny thing. It cracked me up when Robbie loosened the fastenings at the door and MEANSWELL ACCIDENTALLY BLEW THE FUCK OFF THAT MISERABLE DOOR AND LANDED HIS HEAD IN AN IRON BUCKET. I LITERALLY CHOKED ON THE AIR WHEN I SAW IT 😭😭

Since I mentioned Robbie, let's talk about him once again (I'll never get tired of talking about my favorite dorks)

I will not leave unvoiced the fact that Robbie ALMOST ate at least one Sportscandy — a banana, in this case. HE ALMOST DID IT. GOOD FOR HIM!! And one little detail from that scene: it was Ziggy who shared that banana with him. This once again confirms that Ziggy is the best kid ever; he's not sorry to share something with other people at all, whether it's his favorite sweets or Sportscandy 🥺

And now for my favorite part... ;]

This was kind of one of those episodes in which Robbie didn't act that mean towards Sportacus (let's forget about the very beginning of the episode because it's not that significant). He was even too excited to ask him some questions when Sportacus visited them to save Meanswell, and as far as I understood he had quite a lot of questions (and who's the main Sport's fan here now? /j), but the opportunity to ask him anything was given to Ziggy. Robbie was somewhat frustrated :(

Plus Robbie genuinely thanked him when he was saved, and it seemed to me that there was no falsehood at all; he wasn't annoyed or anything like that, at least, and for once he was pretty happy to be saved 🥺

The last thing that I'll mention about this episode is that I felt pretty bad for Stephanie when she didn't pass the final exam because of Robbie, while all of her friends succeeded in that. That was quite cruel on his part, stealing her answers from her and changing them to his own; like dude, she literally helped you that morning.. I hate to see when nice characters are crying, poor girl :(

Ok, now let's move on to the next episode,

"Let's Go to the Moon."

That episode was something. I mean it in the sense that this episode probably has one of the most beautiful views and landscapes; I should also point out that I'm a complete sucker for all those space-related things (my love for "Guardians of the Galaxy" can prove it very well), so that episode was a real eye-candy for me

I mean, just look at this:

PURPLE LIGHTING. SPACE. STARS. 😭

This episode is very well done, and when I say "very well done" I really mean it

But enough of my drooling over the episodes' appearance, let's touch on the topics of the plot and some moments from there!!

I was fucking shocked when I saw that there was a WHOLE UNDERGROUND GARAGE WITH A ROCKET in the yard of Pixel's house. How... How is this kid still not part of some super-fancy university for prodigies? I doubt that someone helped him build all that shit, so apparently he did it all by himself. Wow 💀

And the scene in which Bessie and Milford thought that kids are just playing and it's not real killed me fr; like, no, my darlings, they are actually going to the fucking moon 😭

I was somewhat amused by the fact that Robbie was so fed up with the kids' games and fuss that he literally decided to leave the earth and rest on the moon. Gosh, just let the dude rest properly for once; he's an old man, after all, and he really needs some quiet at times... /hj

And even then the kids didn't let him rest. They literally went to the moon right after him (just for funsies), started to dance and play, and then met Robbie and thought that he was an alien. Ziggy was the very first one to stumble upon him:

And Ziggy was pretty startled to see a supposed alien, which quite confused me. Wasn't he the one who wanted to make friends with an alien in the "Ziggy's Alien" episode and wasn't scared of Robbie disguised as an alien at all?.. The boy changed his mind apparently 🙄

And since we're talking about fears and all this shit, it was a somewhat sad sight to see a scared Robbie. The man was afraid that he would be left completely alone on the moon without any chance to come back home because his spaceship was somehow broken. I understand his fear, but I think there was no great reason to be that afraid; Sportacus' gadgets would've sooner or later given a signal that someone was in trouble, and therefore he could've counted on salvation :]

Also. A small detail that made me smile like a dork. Robbie laid down to sleep in the crater with Sportacus' apple laying in it (in the very beginning of the episode he threw an apple there with a baseball bat). My brain goes fuzzy and my chest goes warm 🥹💜

In the final part of the rambling about this episode, I would like to point out that I didn't quite understand the behavior of the kids at the end of the episode; they were indignant because of Robbie's appearance, but WHY?? He literally didn't do anything wrong in this episode, he just wanted to rest and, a little later, wanted to go home. Why are they so mean to him without any significant reason; don't judge him for nothing, or just leave him be, at least 😭

In general, this episode looked very beautiful, and I can say that this is probably one of my favorite episodes so far. Not because of the characters' interactions, not because of my beloved dorks, but just because this episode looks absolutely amazing :]

Now for the most delicious part of this post,

"Robbie's Dream Team."

OH MY GOD YES. THIS ONE. ONE OF THE MOST ICONIC EPISODES IN THIS SHOW. I FUCKING LOVED IT BECAUSE OF A LOT OF THINGS 👊👊

But let's calm down for a minute and talk about everything in order...

I won't keep quiet about that scene in which Sportacus balanced on two basketballs while standing on one hand... How. How does he even do that. I was literally sitting there with my mouth wide open; I don't know, maybe there was some trick with those basketballs, and they were kinda attached to the floor, because I don't quite believe that he was able to do it without those basketballs rolling away. That man literally consists of a bunch of talents; seriously, he's amazing 😭

Not far from the topic of my favorite dorks: this was another episode in which Robbie once again spends all his time and efforts on catching Sportacus. This one was almost entirely dedicated to his futile attempts to catch him, but the funny part is that bro didn't even know why exactly he needed to catch Sportacus in the first place; initially his main goal was just catching and kidnapping him. For no reason. Robbie came up with the plan of getting rid of him only when he finally caught him 🤭

And his frustrated "How does he always do that??! :(" when Sportacus didn't end up in his trap once again was so fucking amusing; I dunno buddy, maybe that's because that trap was too small? 😭

By the way, in this episode he attempted to catch Sportacus three times (at least I was able to count this number of attempts): the first one in the beginning with a trap in the ground, the second one with a cage that was attached to the tree, and the third, successful one. He was really dedicated in that episode, as I see 😏

Maybe that's a little off topic, but it was also the fourth episode in the whole season (I've watched five episodes from this season so far, just for reference) in which he tries, or at least intends, to feed Sportacus a sugar apple. Apparently bro realized that this was the most effective and fail-safe remedy against him

Also, just take a look at this pathetic creature. And this is your so-called "master of disguise" 😭 /j

Ok but whatever. Let's move on and talk about the second attempt at catching Sportacus; there were some amusing moments as well 😈

This time the kids, Stephanie and Stingy, were spying on him, and they saw the final stage of setting up the trap. You know guys, in some of my previous posts I joked that Robbie's behavior towards Sportacus is kinda suspicious, AND, WELL, I DIDN'T EXPECT THAT STINGY WILL LITERALLY VOICE MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THAT BECAUSE HE LITERALLY SAID, "Hmm there's suspicious behavior" 😭😭

(I know I misinterpreted that phrase but let me be. I just thought that was too funny and I actually laughed like crazy when i heard that 💀)

And I should admit that it was kinda nice to see that kids wanted to help him, because, well, they didn't know Robbie's true intentions since he lied to them. They know that he's a villain, and they probably shouldn't take part in catching someone for him, but they still suggested some help 🥺

Speaking of the kids, it was one of the few episodes in which Stingy was pretty tolerable in my opinion. He didn't do anything selfish or bad, which quite surprised me, and I didn't feel any annoyance because of him. Enemies to lovers trop? /jj

Finally. Now we're going to talk about the most important part of this episode — something that made this episode iconic throughout the show and in meme culture: THE ROBBIE'S GANG. 

OH MY FUCKING GOD, HOW MUCH I LIKED THOSE DORKS. Unfortunately I didn't remember each of them by name (I have a very bad memory), but I remember that in general their names were Bobby, Tobby, and Flobby. I really liked them and the way they look, and I mean it genuinely. And now I really want to read some fics that include them because they are so precious 🥺

One of them kinda reminded me of an Oompa-Loompa from Tim Burton's "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," but we won't talk about it 😭

AND THE SONG. THE SONG. "WE ARE NUMBER ONE" WAS A BIG PART OF MY CHILDHOOD BECAUSE IT WAS A VERY POPULAR MEME BACK THEN. THE FEELING OF NOSTALGIA THAT SONG GAVE ME WAS INDESCRIBABLE AND I FUCKING LIVE FOR IT. But seriously, the melody and the instrumental accompaniment were very catchy; it's a top-tier song in the whole show imo and I won't shut up about how much I love it

Speaking of nostalgia, this episode in general was pretty nostalgic to me, because I have a weird vague feeling that I've seen this episode on some sunny spring morning when I was like, nine or ten years old?? What I'm trying to say is that while I was watching this episode, I had a small feeling like I watched it once before going to school, but I don't remember it; I just feel it. If it makes any sense 😭

But fine, let's move on. It seemed pretty cute to me that after Stephanie and Stingy helped Sportacus get over his sugar meltdown, he BECAME FRIENDS WITH ROBBIE'S GANG. They were all so happy to play together in the lair and on the sports field, since, well, they literally said that they didn't want to become villains. I'm literally smiling right now while writing it because IT'S SO CUTE OMG 🥺

The last thing that I'll mention, or, to be more precise, show, is this scene

Yeah like. I get you dude; it's always nice to watch pretty men sleeping 🤭 (i mean Sportacus wasn't sleeping but was feeling pretty shitty because of his sugar meltdown but let's put all the details aside 💀)

In conclusion, this episode is definitely and undoubtedly one of my favorites. Some of the reasons for that are the nostalgia factor and the presence of some new characters. Oh and the badass song, of course

OK SO THAT IS THE END OF THIS POST, FINALLY. I know for sure that most people won't read it till the end, but I have completed my own mission: to put all my thoughts in order. But if someone actually took their time to read it all, then, guys, I can't say anything less than you are the best. /gen 

I spent 4 hours writing all this shit, so it means so very much to me that someone read it till the end!! Thank you genuinely and have a good day, your attention is very-very-very appreciated :) 💜

[sednonamoris]

oil on troubled water

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: Tensions are high between John and Arthur. Will collaborating on a train robbery bring them closer or tear them farther apart?

Warnings: Even more emotional constipation, strong language, canon-typical violence, gun violence

Word count: 2,828

A/N: Pouring Forth Oil nation rise up - hopefully worth the wait!! Tysm to everyone who enjoys this story 🥰

Series masterlist • AO3

—

There’s a train due through Scarlett Meadows in a few days. Overburdened and underprotected, Mary-Beth insists it’s the perfect target. More than that, John has a plan to rob it. A good plan, one that will force the train to stop with a commandeered oil wagon parked dead over the tracks and allow you to hit it in the dark vulnerability of night .

It’s all he’s been able to talk about for a week.

You just need another man.

“That is… kind of brilliant,” Arthur admits when he hears. He’s fresh back from Strawberry with Micah not far behind. “Uh, for you, I mean,” he quickly amends, maybe remembering that he and John are supposed to be at odds. Tensions have been high since his return. “I think that’s the first time you ever had one of them!”

“Shut up,” John snaps.

But Arthur is on a roll now, that mean, brotherly gleam in his eye. “You might be the first bastard to ever have half his brains eaten by a wolf and end up more intelligent.”

John shoots you a look, one of those see didn’t I tell you he’d be like this glares you’ve been getting since you were kids. Arthur rolls his eyes towards you in much the same can’t he take a joke for once way. It takes everything in you not to groan aloud. You and John are good, now. At least there’s a truce. But the two of them? They’ve been bickering from the moment Arthur swung down from his saddle after nearly two weeks away. You’re lucky they’re being this civil, really.

Doesn’t mean they’re being cooperative.

You fold your arms and sigh. “We doin’ this thing or what?”

They glance over at each other, then you. The payday gleam in their eyes says it all.

—

Arthur volunteers to snag most of the supplies: guns, ammunition, dynamite. He can’t resist adding on that Abigail has asked him to head into town, anyhow, after he takes Jack fishing. Neither of you miss the way John’s jaw clenches. That leaves the oil wagon between you and him. He claims to have a plan for that, too.

“All them wagons come and go from that big oil field near Valentine,” John says. “I reckon between the two of us we can snag one on its way out.”

“Actually,” you say, “I think I can do you one better.”

His brows raise with interest when you explain that one of the drivers, Norris, always pauses his route in town to grab a drink. It’ll be far easier to rush the unattended wagon there than contend with all that security Heartland Oil Co. spends half its fortune hiring. When he asks how you know all this you just shrug.

“Spent a whole week in town, you didn’t think I’d notice a big damn oil wagon parked outside the saloon every other day?”

There’s a jab waiting on the barbed tip of his tongue about the way he heard it, you were sloshed six ways to Sunday the whole time you were there. You tilt your head at him when it never comes. He looks away.

It’s strange, this fragility between you.

“So, when’s he due in next?” he asks.

“Today,” you say, then jerk your head towards the horses. “Ready when you are, Cowboy.”

—

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to nick the wagon. The saloon doors haven’t even stopped swinging after Norris before the two of you scramble into the driver’s seat and urge the team of Shires away. With John sitting shotgun the few ambitious idiots that chase after you are quick to regret it. The sheriff never even manages to mount his horse before you’re halfway out of town, and then you’re good as gone. Blood and brains paint the dirt road leading away from Valentine and toward Old Trail Rise, where John says you’ll be able to stash it.

A mile or so out you drop your masks and slow your pace. It becomes a far more relaxing journey after that. The sky is blue and the clouds are white and the grass that covers the prairieland that slowly gives way to rolling hills is so very green. The breeze fanning your face is warmed by afternoon sun, and being away from camp always has a way of making you feel free. Like you could wheel with the wind or run across the plain or softly sigh through the stony creekbed if you tried.

Beside you, John squints up toward the sky. His face scrunches at the nose, obscuring sunspots and freckles you’ve long since mapped in your mind. His scars pull the skin funny, but his eyes still manage to crinkle. They’re clear and bright in the sunshine and you can’t help but smile at the sight. It’s a secret one, filled with all the things you’re too yellow to say. Filled with the way you’ve memorized the sharp features that relax into fond familiarity when he turns his head back to look at you. Guilt wipes it away and you turn too-fast to the road in front of you. In your peripheral, you can see that the fondness never quite leaves his eyes. You don’t quite know what to make of it.

“Keep left up here,” he says after a moment. “It’s not far past this fork, off the right and into those trees.”

Your mouth is a little dry. “Sure.”

Arthur and Charles are waiting there near the skeleton of an old shack. There’s just enough room beside it for the wagon to pull in out of view. Nearby, Taima grazes untethered beside Moonshine and Old Boy and that big bay paint Arthur’s still riding after Ambarino. He’s calling it ‘Blaze’. Or maybe ‘Ember’? Something to do with fire, because he fancies himself clever after walking away from the Adlers’ burning homestead with a horse in hand.

“Gentleman,” you tip your hat.

Charles nods back, and Arthur puts his hands on his hips. “Took you long enough.”

“Not all of us spent an easy morning fishin’,” you say.

You expect another friendly jab back, but Arthur frowns. “Not so easy,” he says. “Pinkertons found us down by the river.”

Your eyes go wide. “Shit, Arthur! Is Jack alright?”

“Fine,” he says, sparing the briefest glance at the conflict across John’s face. “A little shook up is all. They offered my freedom for Dutch. Said they killed Mac— or left him for dead, it’s all the same.”

“Jesus, are we still sure hittin’ this train is the right thing?”

Charles’ mouth draws into a grim line. “We should think about moving camp.”

“Come on!” John says. “When are we gonna get a sure thing like this on a train anytime soon? Camp can’t move without money.”

Arthur opens his mouth to argue the point further when a rustling in the brush stops the lot of you. Everyone’s hands go to the guns at their belts, but the figure who emerges through the trees is just Sean. He’s sat astride Ennis, crooked smile on his face and hands raised in mock surrender. The horse’s single blue eye is filled with just as much mischief as its owner.

“Don’t tell me now,” he tuts. “You old-timers are rolling over at the first sign of trouble?”

“What the hell is he doing here?” John asks, hackles raised.

It’s mostly directed at Arthur, who frowns up at the menace in question. “Thought I told you not to come along.”

Sean grins. “And I told you this is a young man’s game! The moment your one let slip there was a train in the works I knew you’d be needin’ guns, and mine’s the fastest around. It’s a job for a man in his prime. Youthful vigor, I say, and the lot of yous have run clean out ‘o that.”

John’s face is pinched in annoyance, and Charles rolls his eyes. You fold your arms and sigh.

“Mary-Beth needs to stop hangin’ around you,” Arthur gripes, but he doesn’t refuse him again.

By now you’ve all realized it’s pointless; he’s coming with.

Sean lets out a triumphant laugh when he sees he’s worn everyone down, and then launches into a monologue about being cut out of the action after his absence and finally getting out with the big cheeses to prove his far superior worth.

It’s a long wait until nightfall.

—

Sean never does shut up. Not through a one-sided shooting contest with Arthur or the conversation you try to have with Charles about potential camp locations or the nap John takes, slumped against your shoulder until the light falls. Even on the wagon ride to the tracks it’s incessant. He complains about Karen. He calls everyone old. He pokes at the tension between Arthur and John with all the subtlety of a stick of dynamite. He dubs you Sukky, Angry, Spooky, and Scar-Face, respectively, for refusing to hear one more story about his da.

You’re glad he survived Blackwater and the bounty hunters that caught up with him afterwards, really, but he sometimes he makes it hard to remember why.

Arriving at the tracks is a welcome relief.

Arthur calls out everyone’s moonlit marching orders: Charles will take care of the engineer, you and John will secure the passenger cars and start taking valuables, and Sean will handle the baggage car while Arthur runs point. It all sounds simple enough, so you’re sure something will go wrong, but all there is to do is stick to the plan and try not to get shot.

Once the wagon is in position and the horses are set loose, you fix your bandana to your face and head into the treeline to wait.

Arthur hangs back. When Seans asks what he’s going to do he flashes a grim reaper smile. “I’m gonna make sure she slows.”

“It’s do or die wit’ you, isn’t it?” Sean laughs. “I love it!”

You can feel the same manic laughter bubbling in the back of your throat. John’s eyes are flint sharp and bright. Even Charles isn’t immune to the feeling just before a big job like this; the electric air just before a lightning strike.

The train thunders down the tracks from around the bend. The ground shakes with it. Arthur climbs atop the wagon and stands tall, bandana up and gun at the ready. Tonight’s moon hides behind cloud cover, as though it knows your business and is lending you the shadows. There is only one light to break through the darkness, and it comes from the headlamp of the train. The moment it lights upon Arthur and the oil the brakes scream desperately. The train whistle cries out in alarm. Your heart hammers in your throat as it comes to a halt just a few feet away from him with a shower of sparks and the sound of scraping metal.

The conductor jumps out of the train in outrage.

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?!”

Charles emerges from treeline and shadow to hit him on the back of the head. He drops, dead weight.

Nothing good.

You step up to the passenger car, gun in hand, and smile.

—

Everything goes to plan, to your great joy and surprise.

Until it doesn’t.

Just when you’ve gathered all the valuables you can carry and you’re ready to disembark with the law none the wiser, two riders shine lamplight bright from the treeline.

“Oh, fuck,” Sean says.

“Ah, there’s only two,” Arthur claps his shoulder before settling behind a crate, gun at the ready. “We’re fightin’.”

You’re quick to get into a defensive position with John and Charles, but the whole thing gives you a bad feeling.

The men ride closer, lanterns held up to get a better view of the situation. They tell you to get off the train with your hands in the air.

Arthur tells them to go to hell.

By the time the first shot is fired there are more of them than you bargained for. A lot more.

It’s a hell of a firefight. They come first from the right, then the left, then from behind, until you can’t help but hit one no matter where you fire. Someone went through the trouble of hiring a goddamn army to protect this train. The fact that they only showed up now leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It feels alarmingly like a setup.

“I thought you said there’d be no guards ‘til the state line!” you shout at John over the gunfire.

“There wasn’t s’posed to be!” he shouts back.

You share a brief glance and know that he’s thinking the same thing. He didn’t exactly keep quiet about the job, but why should that matter? Who the hell would’ve talked?

The minute it looks like there’s a window you whistle for the horses and make your break for it, galloping blindly behind Arthur through the countryside. Moonshine grunts with exertion but keeps pace, ever eager. You slip him the reins to fire off a few shots behind you, nailing the handful of lawmen that were able to follow.

Soon there’s only the sound of panting horses and thundering hoofbeats and the creak of saddle leather and Sean’s breathy, wild laughter.

He’s beaming when you finally pull up. “That was fun, real fun! I can see why they call yous the professionals of the outfit.”

“Shut up,” Arthur says, but it comes off half-winded and far more fond than you’re sure he intended.

He tosses everyone their share, a nice bit of cash, and you hand him the sack full of valuables to fence. He mentioned something about a dealer near Rhodes he was going to see. This far South, you figure he might as well head a little farther before making his way back to camp.

There’s a moment where everyone just catches their breath before John speaks up. “Was that a setup? Law turned up real fast.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Arthur’s brow is pinched with worry. “I’m startin’ to get nervous.”

“You think they followed us from Blackwater?” Charles asks.

Arthur frowns. “Maybe. They found me already near Horseshoe, but… I think this lot was just locals.”

You shake your head, but say nothing. You want it to be locals, certainly. But you don’t think that’s what they were. If you didn’t know the place was crawling with law you’d head back to check some of the bodies to make certain. For now you just agree to accompany John over to Emerald Ranch to see about a lead while everyone else splits off with a final warning - mostly to Sean - to be careful about being tailed.

“Hey, Arthur,” John says just before he rides off.

“Yeah?”

“When you get back to camp,” he trails off, then shakes his head, determined. “Just— Take care of Abigail, will you? Make sure she’s… alright. After what happened with Jack and them Pinkertons, I mean.”

Arthur’s posture softens. He smiles, quiet and small, like he’s trying not to spook him. “Sure, John. Sure. I will.”

“Good. Thank you.”

They nod at each other, and all of the sudden it feels like you’re intruding on this moment between brothers. All of the sudden it feels like you can breathe.

—

You and John wind your way carefully toward Emerald Ranch, only making camp when dawn starts to break rose gold across the horizon. The few hours of sleep that you grab are restful, likely because the past several hours haven’t been.

When you wake it’s to the sound of John whistling, happy and tuneless. He sits beside the fire with a cup of coffee - freshly brewed by the smell - and a distant smile on his face. It grows wide and present when he notices your open eyes.

“Mornin’, Ghost!”

“It’s too early for you to be this goddamn happy,” you grouse, like it isn’t entirely infectious. You can’t even hide the smile on your face that starts to mirror his.

“Oh, come on,” he grins and hands you a cup of coffee. You huddle it close to your chest. “I got a pocket full of cash, a good lead on some more, my best friend, and a beautiful morning. A man don’t need much more’n that.”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

“I’m serious!” he says, but he’s laughing, too. “I know we got Pinkertons to worry about and all that, but I feel good, you know? Like a weight’s been lifted or somethin’.”

“I’m sure it’s got nothing to do with you and Arthur making nice last night,” you shoot a pointed look at him over your mug.

“No. Maybe. Shut up,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “Just let me be happy.”

“Fine. Tell me about this lead, then.”

His eyes light right back up as he launches into an explanation about the local livestock market. You’ve never been so happy to hear about sheep.

[twopoppies]

Hi Gina. i am so glad that you got to go to the concert. I’d like to know if there is a correlation between socioeconomic status of countries he goes to vs doesn’t go to, or if it appears to be distance, security or perhaps politics? idk but this whole conversation got me thinking why wouldn’t he play far off places especially since he seems to love to explore.

And one last thing and i hate to add it here but i believe the line “Leave America, two kids follow her, I don’t wanna talk about who's doin' it first”. is actually Harry referring to himself (her) and the plan to leave America (touring) to have the 2 kids that Louis and H have been planning to have, but H and Louis are still working out “who’s doing it first” (putting career on hold).

I think there are a million different reasons why artists don’t travel places. Financially, it might not make sense, there might be legal issues, political issues, safety concerns, venue size, lack of audience, lack of infrastructure (crew, lodging etc)… I don’t know. I’ve never planned a tour, so that’s all of the top of my head.

As for the lyrics, maybe. I tend to think Tom wrote those lyrics as his wife left California before quarantine to move back to the UK and took their two kids. He followed shortly afterwards. But I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

...

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 4

AN: What a crazy episode! I definitely think this episode was one of the best so far and I cannot wait to see what happens next after that insane ending!

Overall Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  

In this chapter: Now in Latvia, you and the boys must find Karli before the Dora take Zemo away (Based on S1 EP4)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,123

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 4, violence, strong language.

Once inside Zemo’s apartment, you started to look through the cupboards. 

Zemo had excused himself to take a bath but you felt starved. 

Even with the limited stock you managed to whip something up for you and Sam. 

“Thank you.” Sam took the bowl from you gratefully. The food Zemo had given you on his private plane wasn’t exactly edible and you were still feeling the affects of the Nagel fail in your body. 

“Well, the Wakandans are here.” Bucky announced as he entered the apartment; having returned from his walk. “They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

“”Were you followed?” Sam looked up at him. 

“No.” Bucky made his way over to you and Sam by the kitchen island. 

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo pondered. 

“Cause I know when I’m being followed.” Bucky sent an unimpressed glance to the man in the bathrobe. 

You pushed a bowl of pasta towards Bucky but he shook his head and pulled out his phone.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” Zemo stated. 

“Hey, you shut it.” Sam quipped. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” 

“You gotta eat.” You whispered to Bucky. 

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo rounded the island so he was closer to you all.

“I’ll eat later.” Bucky mumbled back to you as he furrowed his brow at twitter. 

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam argued with Zemo. 

“Sam.” Bucky had found something. 

“What?” Sam turned his attention to Bucky and away from Zemo. 

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.” Bucky showed you his phone screen so you could read.

“What? What’s the damage?” Sam’s concern grew quickly. 

“Eleven injured, three dead.” You said after skimming over the article. 

“They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.” Bucky added as Sam sighed. 

“She’s getting worse.” Zemo spoke up. “I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?”

“She’s just a kid.” Sam was right. She was only young, she reminded you of you when you first joined the avengers. Desperate to fight for a cause. 

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Zemo disagreed. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”

“You’re talking about our friends.” You felt the need to remind Zemo that you were actually apart of the Avengers as you placed your empty bowl in the sink. 

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky felt the need to clarify. 

“So, Karli is radicalised, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam was determined there wasn’t a need for a fight. 

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.” Zemo explained as he reached for the bowl you had originally offered Bucky. “Or she kills you.” 

You swatted his hand away to which he frowned at. 

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.” Bucky argued his point. 

“Touché.” Zemo picked up a biscuit instead. Holding it on his finger as he spoke. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” Bucky suggested to you and Sam as he moved over to the couch. 

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked as he opened the cupboards to look for some food. 

“Yes.” Bucky didn’t hesitate. 

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam interrupted with a new thought. “So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.”

“Your TT?” Bucky asked, unsure of what Sam had meant. 

“Yeah, my TT, yeah.” Sam nodded. 

“Who is your TT?” Bucky asked as you sat down beside him. 

“Fine. When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.” Sam proposed. He could be right. 

“Worth a shot.” You proclaimed. 

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo sounded more awkward at the use of the phrase before he pulled out a fancy looking tin. “Turkish delight? Irresistible.”

Sam caught the small sweet that Zemo had thrown. 

“I say Zemo put’s some clothes on and we head over to the refugee camp that Donya was staying. See if anyone knows anything about a funeral or ceremony for her.” You ignored Zemo as he looked down at the sweets. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam stood from his seat at the island and looked over at Zemo. 

Zemo nodded before disappearing into a bedroom to change. 

It didn't take long to get to the camp from Zemo’s apartment. 

“Shame what’s become of this place. When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful.” Zemo seemed saddened by the state of the buildings being used as the camp. 

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.” Sam told Bucky as he gestured to Zemo. 

“I’ll stay out of your way.” Zemo promised. 

“(Y/n), you look around through there. See if you can... You know.” Sam pointed down through one of the ground floor doors. You nodded and left the men.

Most of the adults fled when you entered the building but you noticed a young girl who looked too busy with what she was doing to notice. She had looked maybe 16 or 17 years old and she was embroidering an old silk scarf. 

“That’s beautiful.” You knelt down beside her but as you spoke, her eyes shot up and widened with shock and fear. 

“T-t-thank you.” She stuttered as her eyes flittered around the room for help. 

“It’s okay. I was just wondering if I could have a look at it.” You smiled softly at the girl as you held your hand out. 

She reluctantly gave it to you. 

“This truly is beautiful. You are very talented. May I buy it from you?” You placed your hand in your pocket and pulled out a note that you had previously stolen from Zemo’s jacket.

“You c-c-can have it.” She whispered as she stood. You rose with her as you folded the scarf to place into your pocket. 

“I insist.” You took her hand gently and cautiously and placed the money in her palm. She smiled but she still was nervous and full of worry. You figured she knew who you were. 

You folded your hands over hers and that’s when you unplugged the cork on your powers. 

You closed your eyes and within seconds all the girls memories flooded into your head. 

You tried not to react as it happened. 

You tried your best to filter through the memories quickly. When you reached the time after the blip, you slowed down. You saw the horrors of them being rejected, being abandoned and then you saw Mama Donya and Karli. 

You focused on Karli. 

You watched Karli smile and laugh with all the children, she’d play and look after them as Donya looked after Karli. 

Closer memories brought what seemed like events that only just happened. Karli visiting with supplies. 

You saw the mourning of Mama Donya from everyone and then you saw the arrangements for the funeral. 

You opened your eyes and let go of the girls hand. She thanked you again and left. She would have never realised what you had seen as the memories are shown to you within a matter of seconds. 

You leant against the table and inhaled deeply. 

You felt weak again. 

You pushed yourself off the table and headed back out to Bucky. 

Zemo was surrounded by a bunch of small children.

“You okay?”Bucky asked. The second you reappeared he immediately noticed a change in you. 

“I’m okay.” You lied. “I spoke to one of the teenagers inside. I looked inside her head. You were right, Sam. They are having a funeral but she only knew that she would be taken to it later this afternoon.” You explained as Sam joined you both. 

“Good work.” Sam wrapped his arm around you and gave you a small squeeze of appreciation. 

They both knew how hard it must've been for you to use your powers after the Nagel incident. 

The toll of touching the dead had knocked you for six in the past and in a matter of forty eight hours you had touched the dead and looked into the memories of a live person. 

You’ll need an energy boost before you can do this again. 

Zemo turned back to you and you all returned to the apartment. 

“Well, I got nothin’. No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Bucky slouched down on the couch in defeat. 

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them.” Sam joined him on the couch. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked. 

“For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doin’ somethin’.” Sam explained himself. 

“You really think her ends justify her means? Then, she’s no different than him or anybody else we’ve fought.” Bucky pointed over to Zemo. 

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.” Sam argued with Bucky.

“Sam’s right.” You spoke up. “When I looked into that girls head I saw a lot of Karli. She means a lot to those people, she is their light, their Captain America. But she’s just a kid. From what I saw she has a whole lot of love in her heart and I'm not saying that hurting and killing people is right but she sees it as the only way to help her people.” 

Zemo had walked over from the kitchen with a tray as you spoke. 

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky questioned him. 

“The funeral is this afternoon.” Zemo only said what you already knew. 

“We know that. Now you know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” Bucky demanded. 

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo sure knew how to push someone’s buttons. 

Bucky shot up and threw Zemo’s cup against the wall. The crashing of the glass made both you and Sam jump to your feet. 

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” Bucky threatened Zemo. 

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.” Sam tried to de-elevate the situation. “Let me make a call.”

“You want some cherry blossom tea?” Zemo offered Bucky as Sam walked away.

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky grumbled, scowling at the Baron. 

“Come on.” You took Bucky’s hand and pulled him away from Zemo. 

You headed into the bathroom and started to fill up the tub with some cold water. 

“Will you get me some ice?” You asked Bucky to which he complied. 

Once the tub was full of ice water, you stripped and climbed inside. 

Bucky had taken a stool and faced the door to give you some privacy. 

“You shouldn’t let him get to you.” You said as you settled into the water. Your body was screaming at you as the ice touched it but you knew it’d give you the wake up call you and your muscles needed. 

“I don’t.” Bucky grimaced. 

“You don’t? Oh, so the shattered cup in the other room was just a scare tactic?” You mused. 

“Yep.” Bucky grumbled. 

“Okay.” You sighed before going under. 

The cold water hit your brain and you immediately sat back up. 

“Feel better?” Bucky had heard the splashing of the water. 

“Yeah.” You admitted, running your hands over your face and hair. “Can I have my towel?”

Bucky kept his back to you as he passed you the towel. 

You wrapped it around you and stepped out. 

“You can look.” You told him.

Bucky turned and his eyes went straight to the bruises that covered your legs and arms. 

“I’m okay, Buck.” You assured him as you watched the cogs turning in his head. 

“I forget you aren’t...” Bucky’s words dropped off as he stepped closer and lightly took your arm, examining the damage. 

“That I’m not a super soldier?” You smirked. “I may bruise but I can hold a lot more than most, Buck.” 

“Doesn’t stop me worrying.” Bucky admitted as he lowered your arm. 

“I know.” You whispered, looking up at the man’s deep blue eyes.

“You better get dressed. You already know what Sam is thinking with us both being gone right now.” Bucky went to go towards the door when you stopped him. 

“I had a dream about Wakanda on the plane ride here.” You confessed. 

Bucky stopped and looked back at you. 

“It was the day you finally beat the Winter Soldier.” You told him. 

*Flashback*

“These are incredible, Shuri.”  You smiled widely as you threw the new high tech Vibranium knives that Shuri had made for you. 

“I know. I know.” Shuri was well aware of her awesome brain. 

Shuri pressed the combat button on the wall which simulated attackers for intense weapon training. 

You inhaled as you closed your eyes. 

A footstep gave away your first attacker. You threw the knives to the holograms and the attackers were down. You ducked and dodged and jumped around the room as you practised with the knives. 

Shuri cheered you when you finished. You smiled through your heavy breaths and Shuri jogged towards you to give you a fist bump. 

“You are something else, my friend.” Shuri praised you. 

The doors opening behind you made both you and Shuri turn to see who had entered. 

It was Bucky. 

He rushed towards you with a bright smile. His lips seemed to quiver and his eyes were glassy. Something had happened. 

It had happened.

He embraced you tightly and you returned it. Your fingers gripped onto Bucky’s long hair as he buried his face in your neck. 

You looked back at Ayo (who had followed Bucky) and Shuri and mouthed a ‘Thank you’. 

Ayo bowed her head at you before leaving the hall. 

Bucky had finally gotten over HYDRA’s programming after all these years of being held prisoner by a few words. 

You and Bucky stayed like that for what felt like hours. The relief from Bucky washed over you and bound him to you until he was ready to part. 

It was an incredible day.

*End of Flashback*

“Maybe you could sense that the Dora’s were close on our tails.” Bucky suggested. 

“No, we all knew that they’d come for Zemo eventually.” You dismissed the idea. “I think it was after seeing Zemo treat you like him again.” 

Bucky remained silent. 

“I don’t think I ever told you how proud I was of you that day.” You folded your arms over your chest as you leant back on the tub.

“You didn't need to.” Bucky assured you. “I already knew.” 

You watched Bucky leave the bathroom so you could change. 

When you had returned to the main space again it was just about time to head out again. 

You felt a little nervous as you didn’t really want a fight with Karli since you weren’t 100% but you figured you had felt a hell of a lot worse before.

As you left the apartment, a voice and face you didn’t particularly wanna see called out. 

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John Walker and his little side kick were walking down some stairs towards you. 

“Ah! How’d you find us now?” Bucky called back. 

“Come on. You think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar, Walker’s partner, scoffed. 

“No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker pointed out Zemo. 

“He did that himself, technically.” Bucky corrected Walker.  

“This better be an unbelievable explana––”

“––Hey, take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam interrupted Walker before things could get heated in front of civilians.

“I know where Karli is.” Zemo kept walking as the others stopped. 

“Well, where?” Walker asked, stopping Zemo by stepping in his way. 

“All we know is it’s a memorial. So, we’re gonna intercept her there.” Sam informed them.

“That means civilians. High risk of casualties.” Lemar relaid to his partner as you continued to walk.

“All right, good, we’ll move in fast. Take her by surprise.” Walker started to talk through his plan when Sam stopped him. 

“No, I wanna talk to her alone.”

“I’m not losing her again.” Walker argued with Sam. 

“Look, the person closest to her died, she’s vulnerable. Now is the best time to reason with her.” Sam was trying to defend his reasoning but Walker wasn’t having it. 

“What? No. Wait, no! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop, okay?” Walker ran up ahead to stop everyone again. “I think we’re way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot that she blew up a building with people still in it.” 

“Sam, you walk in there cold, she could kill you, man.”Lemar tried backing up his partner. 

“If I go in hot and the op goes wrong, more people will die.” Sam handed over the other scenario. 

“You’ll let him do this?” Walker looked between you and Bucky. “Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?”

“He’s dealt with worse.” Bucky told him flatly. “And he’s not my partner.”

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is in my wheelhouse.” Sam walked past you and Bucky to face Walker.

“I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I know this is a bad idea.” Walker still wasn't on board. 

“Wait, John.” Lemar stopped Walker.  “If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try.”  

“Thank god Battle-scar here has some sense.” You declared. 

“It’s Battle Star actually.”Lemar smiled at you but you ignored him. 

“We’ll deal with you later.” Walker told Zemo as he caved in.

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo lead you towards the young girl he had spoken to earlier that day. 

“Hello, my friend. This is for your family. Can you show us the way?” Zemo handed her some money and the girl beckoned for you all to follow.  

“What the hell?” Walker seemed a little confused by Zemo’s ‘associate’ being 12.

The girl lead you to the building where the funeral was being held and you all waited for a signal. 

“Karli’s in there.” Zemo announced as the girl ran off. 

Sam went in whilst Walker cuffed Zemo. 

“You got 10 minutes. Then we are doing things my way.” Walker told Sam before he left. 

“Aggressive.” Zemo mumbled after being handcuffed. “But I get it.”

You rolled your eyes subtly at both Walker and Zemo. 

You took up a position by the door with Bucky. 

You watched Walker sit down, his grip on the shield was tight as he slowly huffed in and out. 

You frowned as you studied the man. Your eyes glanced over to Zemo who was also watching Walker. 

You shared a look before you let your eyes fall back down to your feet.  

“Uh-uh. No, no, no. This is a bad idea.” Walker started to pace as he let his impatience get the best of him. 

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky sighed unimpressed by the young solder. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me.” Walker glared back at Bucky. 

“Sam knows what he’s doing.” You backed Bucky up. 

You all watched Walker stop as he thought. His heavy breathes causing his chest to rise up and down quickly. 

“I’m goin’ in.” Walker didn’t want to listen anymore. He stormed towards the door but both you and Bucky stepped in his way.

“This is all really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” Walker didn’t even look at you as he squared up to Bucky. 

That really bothered you.

You took hold of the man’s upper arm and yanked him to look at you. 

“You may be Captain America right now but we don’t follow you. We said we’d give him 10 minutes. So, he’s getting 10 minutes.” You glowered at the man. 

“Your partner needs backup in there. Do you really want his blood on your hands?” Walker leant towards you, trying to be intimidating but it wasn’t working. 

“Just wait.” You looked the man in the eye with a subtle threat in your stare. His jaw clenched as he tugged his arm away from you. 

Walker went back to look at the clock again. 

After a couple more minutes, he tried once more. 

“Time’s up! Our turn.” Walker didn’t hesitate to push past you as he charged ahead. 

Bucky kept his tongue in his cheek as he watched it happen. 

You and Bucky stayed behind Walker and his partner as they marched ahead.

“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” Walker announced as he entered the room. 

“This is what that was?” Betrayal flashed across Karli’s face as she looked at Sam. 

“No, wait––” Sam didn’t have a chance now that Walker had intervened.

“––Tricking me until help came?” Karli started to back away. 

“We had enough time to talk.” Walker exclaimed as he headed straight for Karli. 

“Nazi! “ Karli wasn't going the easy way. She hit Walker back and he went straight into a table. 

Lemar tried to keep you and Bucky back but you had easily managed to get round him to chase after Karli. 

Bucky being what he was managed to get ahead of you but you were close on their trail. 

Sam had found his own way but ultimately you all lost Karli. 

“I lost her.” Bucky sighed.

“This place is a maze.” Sam looked around at the several doorways with a frown. 

The sound of gunshots is what caught your attention next. 

“Come on.” You rushed through the building trying to get to the source. 

You didn’t manage to get there before Walker did. 

Zemo was unconscious on the floor and vials of the serum were smashed around the concrete floor. 

“What happened?” You asked as you looked down at the mess. 

“He was shooting at Karli. I stopped him but she got away.” Walker lifted his shield a little to symbol how he had stopped Zemo. 

“Let’s get him up.” Sam started down the stairs and you followed. 

Zemo woke up after a little encouragement and some smelling salts. You had decided it was best if you split up on your way back to the apartment. 

You and Sam were going to stay with Zemo and see if you can dig up anything on socials and the computer and Bucky was going to do a round and see if she had holed up anywhere familiar. 

Sam sat at his computer, he was contacting Sharon whilst you stood with your phone searching Twitter to see if any Flag Smashers appearances or Karli were popping up in recent tweets. 

Zemo laid down on the couch with a wet towel and a strong glass of scotch. 

“You got anything?” Sam asked you. 

“Nothing. I don’t think we’ll find her this time if she doesn’t want us too.” You put your phone down in defeat. It wasn't usual for people to give her Karli’s location anyway. 

“I think you’re right.” Sam hated to agree but this was the first time you had come close to actually talking Karli down and it failed. 

“And now with the serum’s gone. Who knows what her next move will be.” You knew that Karli didn’t have the option to create more super soldiers now and that gives her a disadvantage. The idea of an army is gone now and she would only have her current foot soldiers to help her. 

Zemo moved for the first time in ten minutes as he lifted his cold compress. 

“Were you ever offered it?" He asked aloud. 

“What?” Sam furrowed his brow at the man. 

“The serum.” Zemo replied. 

“No.” Sam smirked at the idea. 

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?” Zemo inquired. 

“No.” Sam answered instantly, his smile dropping. 

“No hesitation. That’s impressive.” Zemo nodded before removing his towel. “Sam. (Y/n). You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her, she’s gone. And we cannot allow that she and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods amongst real people. Super Soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam queried. “And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?” There was a silence from Zemo. “Blood isn’t always the solution.” 

Before the conversation could continue, the door opened and Bucky strode inside.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky stated as he removed his jacket. 

“You don’t say.” Sam huffed with amusement. It was clear as day that Walker was at his wits end with the pressure on him.

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy.” Bucky poured himself a glass of whiskey. You rolled your eyes at his statement. 

“Can’t argue with that.” Sam retorted. 

“Shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky was back on this topic again. 

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam rose to his feet to face Bucky.

“Well, Steve definitely didn’t.” Bucky sipped on his drink just as the doors flew open. 

All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m now ordering you to turn him over.” Walker commanded, his face red and his ears steaming. 

“Hey, slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’ll need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.” Sam approached Walker to try and pump his breaks. 

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, Sam, huh?” Walker chuckled softly as Sam remained silent. “Yeah. Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

Sam scoffed, shaking his head at the man’s antics. 

Walker put down the shield but the only thing flying next was a spear that struck the pillar by Walker’s head. 

It was the Dora Milaje. 

They had come for Zemo. 

From your time in Wakanda you understood the language as Ayo spoke to Bucky. 

“Even if he is a means to an end. Your time is up.” Ayo reverted back to English. “Release him to us now.” 

Walker introduced himself to Ayo, not that she cared for him.

“Well let’s, uh, put the pointy sticks down and we can talk this through, huh?” Walker suggested, only to be met, yet again, by silence from the Dora’s.

“Hey, John, take it easy. You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.” Sam tried to warn him but he wasn’t backing down. 

“They don’t have jurisdiction here––”

“––The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Ayo cut Walker short. 

“Okay.” John chuckled lightly. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Walker made the mistake of putting his hand on Ayo’s shoulder. 

Ayo responded with an attack. 

The surrounding Dora’s fell into defence positions as Ayo and Walker fought.  Lemar bounced into action, trying to help his partner out but it only warranted in more fighting. Or more asses getting kicked by the Dora Milaje. 

“We should do something.” Sam said as you, him and Bucky stood together watching. 

“Looking strong, John.” Bucky called out. 

“Bucky!” You tried not to laugh as you scolded the man. 

“Guys...” Sam nodded to Ayo about to strike John with her spear which made Bucky reluctantly intervene. 

“Ayo, let’s talk about this.” Bucky only landed himself directly in the mess. 

You realised how serious this was as Ayo didn’t hold back and went ahead to help Bucky. Sam went over to help Lemar but was met by more Dora's.

You grunted as one of the women attacked you. You had almost forgotten just how incredible they were at combat. Almost. 

You were backed against a wall with the spear to your chest when the room fell silent. 

You looked over at Bucky to see his arm was on the floor. 

You wanted to move towards him but you were stuck until orders were given to release you. 

“He is gone. Leave it.” Ayo had opened the bathroom doors to reveal the manhole had been opened. Zemo had escaped. 

You were trying to slow your breathing when finally the Dora’s fell back. 

She retracted her spear and left with Ayo and the others. 

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked Bucky as he pushed himself off the floor. 

Bucky reattached his arm. He groaned as he swung it round to adjust it. 

“No.” He said but the shock on his face from before had already given away that answer. 

You looked past Bucky to where Walker was still on the floor. 

“You all right, man?” Lemar offered his hand to help him up. 

“They weren’t even Super Soldiers.” You heard Walker mutter. 

“Come on.” Lemar tugged him to his feet. 

“I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.” Sam walked over to the bathroom and stared at the hole. 

“I can.” Bucky wasn’t really that surprised and neither were you truthfully. 

“Come on.” You beckoned the boys out of the apartment so you could talk. 

You got down to the streets and away from Walker before you spoke again. 

“Walker isn’t stable. He’s on the brink of cracking.” You kept your voice low as you spoke to the boys. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 

“We may not like him but he’s not stupid. He knows that he can’t be Steve, do the things Steve did and it’s killing him. He's so obviously trying to win this fight by himself and it’s going to drive him insane if he isn’t the one to beat Karli.” 

“But he can’t beat Karli. You saw her kick him across the room like he was a cardboard box.” Sam reminded you of what happened earlier. 

“We have to get to Karli before he does because he’s either gonna stop her or kill himself trying.” You weren't worried for the man but worried about what would happen if he finally snapped. 

Suddenly, Sam’s phone started to ring. It was his sister. 

“She said what? Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know. Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys...” Sam sounded worried. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked. 

“Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews.” Sam told you both. “Okay. Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash. All right? Tell me when you arrive. I know. Look, I love you. I’ll never let anything happen to you and the boys. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and then immediately texted an unknown number. 

“What does she want?” You knew Karli was desperate but threatening kids was a different story.

“Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number.” Sam’s phone buzzed with a new text. “She said come alone.”

“We’re coming with you.” Bucky wasn’t going to take no for an answer. 

“Alright but keep your distance.” Sam didn’t bother to fight you on it. “We better suit up.” 

You suited up by adding a few more weapons to your body. You placed your favourite thigh holsters on that held your Vibranium knives out on display. 

Sam got his wings and soon you were at the location. 

“Karli!” Sam bellowed as you entered the building. 

Karli leant over a balcony to make herself seen. You remained on the ground floor but looked up at the girl. Bucky followed Sam. 

“You called my sister? That’s how we’re gonna play this?” Sam was upset and understandably so. 

“Sam, I would never hurt her. I just wanted to understand you better.” Karli confessed.“I see you, um, didn’t come alone.”Karli peered down at you then up at Bucky. 

“You have to end this now.” Sam told her. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re a tool in the regimes I’m looking to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you, it’d be meaningless. I was gonna ask you to join me. Or do the world a favour and let me go.” Karli spoke pretty boldly for someone who seemed to be alone. Super Soldier or not. 

“Hey, Sam, new Cap is moving, looks like he’s found them, or maybe they found him.” Sharon’s voice came through on Sam’s intercom. 

“It’s Walker.” Sam looked down at you and then Bucky. 

Karli jumped from the balcony at the realisation the jig was up but Bucky was quick to jump too. 

Karli kicked Bucky back but you managed to weaken Karli as you flipped over and kicked her in the jaw. 

Sam put her down momentarily as he flew down and kicked her also. 

“I’ll send you the location. Go!” Sam ordered both you and Bucky before he took off. 

You knew Bucky would be fast enough to run there but you didn’t have that luxury. 

You crossed the street to a parked motorbike and opened up it’s wiring. Just as you managed to get it running, Sam’s coordinates came through. 

You docked your phone and set off. 

You dodged through the narrow streets and traffic to arrive at another large building. Karli must have a favour for buildings you could get lost in. 

You drove through the doors and skidded to a stop. 

Bucky had gotten there before you. You could hear his grunts from a flight or two up. 

You raced up them only to be met by a super soldier fighting Bucky. 

You sent a knife forward, it embedded itself into the man’s soldier, he cried out which gave Bucky some time to throw him down the stairs. 

You tucked up, over the tumbling body, holding onto the railing and the wall. 

Bucky jumped over the rails and with one final blow knocked the soldier unconscious. 

“Stay there.” Bucky told him before climbing back up to you. He thanked you for the help, handing you back the knife that had been in the man’s shoulder. 

You then both went ahead to find Sam and Walker. 

They were fighting more super soldiers a floor up. 

You didn’t hesitate to go in for the attack.

You pulled a knife and threw it to Bucky for help; he caught it midair. 

You screamed with frustration as the soldier you were fighting, pulled your arm behind you and slammed you into the pillar. You managed to swivel around, taking out the soldiers legs as you freed your arm. 

You threw a knife into both his biceps. You only intended to injure, not kill, them anyway. 

He groaned as he pulled them and tried to use them against you. 

All at once, the fighting stopped when you all witnessed Karli kick Lemar into one of the concrete pillars. 

Lemar’s body slumped down with blood painted across his lips. 

John broke free from his attacker and slowly made his way over to Lemar. 

From the sight of the body, you already knew he wasn’t walking out of there. 

Walker desperately tried to wake him up. 

That’s when Karli took her chance to flee. 

You and the boys took off after her but lost her again pretty quickly. 

When you rounded the building, you saw a crowd gathering. 

What you saw next made you feel psychically sick. 

John Walker stood above Karli’s right hand man, blood splattered up Steve’s shield and across his uniform. 

He had killed the man in front of all these civilians. He had killed a man as Captain America. 

(PART 5 HERE)

Bucky Barnes Tag List

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[justice4canyonmoon]

I don't know if you're comfortable with this, but could you write something about fingering Harry for the first time and he really likes it and is moaning like crazy?

I originally was going to try and make this really short, but sub! harry is my favorite Harry, so it turned into a full on one-shot! I hope this is good for you!

Warnings: smut!!!! anal fingering (m receiving), oral sex (m receiving), sub! harry

WC: 1.5k

You being dominant wasn’t anything new. Whenever one of yours and Harry’s sexual escapades ended in you taking control, you both absolutely loved it. You spanked him, tied him up, edged him, called him a dirty whore, and rode him until he cried. But there was still something the two of you had never tried before.

Harry had been curious about this for a long time. One of his friends talked about how much he loved being pegged, and Harry began to wonder if he would like the feeling. He did a little research into it, even googling about male sex toys, but the strap-ons and butt plugs seemed a little too scary to him yet. He figured he should probably see if he actually liked the feeling first before he bought any of those things.

Harry brought up the topic at dinner one night. The two of you had a natural lull in conversation, and he worked up the courage to mention it.

“Darlin’, I’ve got somethin’ I need t’ ask y’.”

You put your fork down and looked at him expectantly, not totally sure where he was going with this.

He swallowed, “Have y’ ever, ehm, pegged someone? Or enjoyed doin’ it?”

You had honestly secretly been hoping he’d ask this for a while. You wanted him to be the one to bring it up so that you knew he was comfortable with the idea.

“Yes, I have. You want me to do it to you?”

“Well, sort of,” he explained, “I dunno how ready I am f’ the whole shebang since ‘ve never done it before, but I was thinkin’ maybe y’ could finger me? Just to see how it feels?”

You smiled, “Sure, baby. We can give it a try.”

Harry returned your smile, his cheeks turning a soft shade of crimson as he returned to eating the shrimp scampi you two had cooked together.

A few days later, you got the chance to try it. You could tell he was nervous, so you took your time stripping him down and pressing sweet, reassuring kisses to his lips. You had him lay on the bed and you followed, straddling his waist and continuing to kiss him, hoping to try and quell some of his nerves. You proved unsuccessful, however; when you pulled back and grabbed the lube, you could see him trembling. You faltered, not wanting to rush into things if he wasn’t ready.

“Are you sure you want this, Harry?” you asked softly.

He looked up at you, eyes slightly wide, “Y-yeah. ‘M sure. Jus’ a bit nervous, ‘s all.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind at any time, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you told him.

“I will, promise,” he replied.

Happy with his response, you leaned down and kissed his forehead before trailing light kisses down his neck and chest. You weren’t planning on touching his nipples at all, but when you saw how hard they were, you took one into your mouth and tugged gently. He whimpered as you pinched its twin, rolling the nub between your fingers. You smirked, licking both of his nipples to soothe the pain before continuing your descent, pressing sloppy kisses to his abdomen until you reached his cock. You licked at the head, relishing in the whine that fell from his lips.

“Gonna suck your cock for a little to make sure you’re nice and relaxed. That sound good, honey?” you murmured.

He nodded vigorously, but a squeeze to his thigh reminded him to answer verbally, “Y-yes. Sounds s’ good.”

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered, before pushing just the head of his cock between your lips.

He moaned softly, threading his fingers into your hair; though he tugged, he knew better than to try and make you take more. The only time he’d tried that, you’d spanked him so hard he couldn’t sit the next day. You smirked at the sound, teasingly swirling your tongue around the tip, collecting the pre-cum that had begun to leak out. Soon, you took a little bit more, sinking about halfway down on his cock. You looked up at his face, but were unhappy when you saw that his eyes were squeezed shut.

You squeezed his thigh again and pulled off of his cock, “Eyes open. Want you to look at me while I’m making you feel good.”

His eyes snapped open, his forest green eyes meeting yours, “‘M sorry. I’ll keep ‘em open, promise.”

“That’s a good boy,” you crooned.

Satisfied, you swiftly took him back in your mouth, wanting to make him both as comfortable and as turned on as possible before you pushed your fingers into him. You could hear desperate whines from above you as your nose brushed his pelvis, and you thought that now might be the best time, so he didn’t cum before you even got a chance to get started.

You pulled off of him again and asked, “Are you ready, baby?”

“‘M ready,” he confirmed.

Though you could tell he was still a bit nervous, he was definitely more relaxed than before, which was a good sign. You pulled back slightly to lube up your fingers, then leaned back in and licked a stripe up his cock. You took him back into your mouth, and he gasped softly when he felt your lube-covered finger circling his rim. You looked up at him, and he nodded at you, giving you the go-ahead. So, you slowly and gently pushed your index finger inside of him. You expected him to tell you it hurt, tense up, or maybe let out some soft noises of pleasure.

You didn’t expect the guttural moan that he released.

You smirked to yourself around his cock. He fucking loved it. You thought he would, but hearing it made satisfaction hum through your veins.

“F-fuck, b-baby. It feels s’ fuckin good. P-please move,” he begged.

With his consent, you moved your finger inside of him, relishing in the breathy moans he was making. His eyes had screwed shut again, though, and you couldn’t have that. You stilled your finger inside of him and pulled off of his cock again.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes open?”

Immediately, his eyes opened again, “Fuck, ‘m sorry. Jus’ felt s’ good, I couldn’t help m’self. Promise I’ll keep ‘em open, jus’ please don’ stop. Please.”

You maintained steady eye contact as you crooked your finger inside of him. He moaned loudly again, but managed to keep his eyes open. You didn’t take him back into your mouth, now knowing how much he enjoyed taking your fingers.

“Gonna add another finger, is that okay, baby?”

He nodded wildly, “Please, please, please!”

You chuckled softly, “My baby boy is a little eager now, isn’t he?”

You wanted to tease him a little bit, but decided to leave that for next time. This was new for him, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. So, you relented and pushed your middle finger in to join your pointer, and he squeaked in pleasure. His hips ground down onto your fingers, almost of their own accord, as he cried out. You pumped your fingers in and out of him, gentle praises falling from your lips as he took you. When you crooked both of your fingers inside of him again, a stream of curses escaped his lips. If his sugary sweet moans didn’t tell you how much he was enjoying this, the way his hole was clenching around your fingers did. His cock was throbbing, and you could tell that he was close as his moans turned into pants.

“S’ c-close. P-please, may I c-cum? Need t-to s’ bad,” Harry begged, confirming your suspicions.

You nodded, bringing your free hand up to tug at his cock, “Go ahead, my love. You’ve been such a good boy, you earned it.”

That’s all it took for him to cum. His release coated your hand as he moaned your name, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You stroked his cock through his high, milking every drop.

“That’s my good boy. Look so pretty when you cum for me, Harry,” you praised, smirking at the keening sound he released at your words.

When he came down from his orgasm, you slowly removed your fingers from his hole. He whimpered softly at the newfound emptiness, already missing your fingers. You smiled and gently brushed some stray curls from his forehead, peppering sweet kisses all over his face.

“Well, guess I liked it,” Harry remarked with a dopey smile on his face.

You giggled, “Guess so. Glad you did, I’ve honestly wanted to do this with you for a while. Wanted you to bring it up, though, so I knew you’d be comfortable with it.”

“‘M definitely a bit more than ‘comfortable,’ love,” he murmured, sounding exhausted.

But then, he looked up at you with wide eyes, “‘Y didn’ cum yet, baby.”

“I can take care of it myself, Har. Know I tired you out,” you replied.

He shook his head stubbornly, “No. If ‘m here, ‘m making y’ cum. Sit on my face, love.”

And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

[the-bau-quinjet]

You're Teasing Me

Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Sam offers to help you when Bucky refuses to duet with you on karaoke night.

Warnings: promiscuous themes lmao

Word Count: 2200

a/n: we back baby, another karaoke fic lol. This one came to me and I just needed it in my life. Song is Promiscuous Girl by Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland.

Just bold is you, italics and bold is Sam!

Masterlist

"Bucky, come on!" You pleaded, desperate to get him to agree.

He just huffed, continuing on his path to the kitchen.

"It'll be fun! We can sing something from high school musical! Or something from the 40s!" You tried encouraging him with a song choice.

"Look, Doll. I don't sing. I just can't do it." He wouldn't look at you, no matter where you placed yourself in the room.

"That's not true. I've heard you sing!" You challenged, completely making up the statement.

"Okay, well I don't sing in front of people." He eyes you suspiciously, wondering when you could have heard him singing. "At least, not on purpose."

You let out a low whine, trying to think of a way to convince him. Just then, Sam and Steve walked into the room.

"Uh oh, what did tin man do this time?" Sam chuckled at your pout.

"He won't sing with me at Tony's duets-only karaoke party." It was your turn to huff, jutting out your bottom lip in a pout.

"C'mon Buck! You're a great singer." Steve encouraged his friend, unaware of why he didn't want to do it.

"No can do, punk." Bucky glared at Steve, annoyed that he wasn't on his side.

"I'll do it." Sam cut in, knowing it would annoy Bucky if he sang with you.

"Really?!" You jumped from your seat at the island, excited at the idea of someone singing with you.

"Sure, it'll be fun." Sam replied with mischief in his eyes.

You squealed in excitement, throwing yourself at Sam for a hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the room. "We have to go pick a song!"

Steve turned back to Bucky after laughing at your childlike enthusiasm, not missing the glare on the brunette's face.

Steve just shook his head, laughing again. "You could have just agreed to sing with her."

"I could not. I can't take that chance! What if I stared at her for too long and she figured everything out!" Bucky exclaimed, affronted by Steve's statement.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Steve knew this conversation would lead nowhere, but he was going to try anyway. "Maybe there's a reason she asked you?"

"Because I'm her friend." Bucky glared again. "That's how she sees me."

"I think you're wrong." Steve shook his head, leaving Bucky to contemplate his decisions alone in the kitchen

-

"Let's cut to the chase." Sam started talking, cutting off your list of song choices.

"About what?" You questioned back, thrown off by the statement.

"You've got a thing for Buckaroo." He said it with so much confidence, you almost forgot to deny it.

"No, I don-"

"And he's got a thing for you." Sam cut you off, you're eyes going wide.

"He what? How do you know that?" You narrowed your eyes, wanting to know more, but not knowing if you could fully trust Sam.

"Look, I wouldn't joke about this. I can tell Barnes likes you, specifically because of how much he denies it."

You bit your lip in thought, wondering if it could really be true. Ultimately, you tried to change the subject.

"Can't we just pick a song?"

"That's why I brought it up. I think I know a way to get him to admit his feelings..." Sam grinned, the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he had in the kitchen.

"O-okay. How?" You slowly asked, unsure if a plan concocted by Sam WIlson would pan out.

"The song choice. I've got the best one to make him regret not agreeing to sing with you."

He smirked again, somehow convincing you to follow along with his idea.

-

"Our next duet..." Tony glanced down at his list, scanning for the next two names. "Sam and Y/N!"

You squeezed Sam's hand, still unsure about his plan. You refused to look at Bucky, too nervous to see his expression, completely missing the daggers he was glaring at Sam.

The two of you jumped right into the song Sam chose, wearing completely mismatched expressions.

"Am I throwing you off?"

"Nope"

"Didn't think so."

The instrumental track in the background started to ease your nerves, allowing you to actually enjoy the performance.

"How you doin' young lady? The feelin' that your givin' really drives me crazy."

Sam was all smiles, doing his best to keep your nerves from getting the best of you.

Bucky choked on his drink when he took in the song. He had never heard it before, but judging by the first few lines he wasn't going to like that it was Sam singing with you.

"Your dope have a player 'bout to choke. I was at a loss of words, first time that we spoke."

Bucky let the words sink in. He knew Sam must've chosen this song. It wasn't even in the top twenty suggestions you gave him when you were asking him to sing.

Bucky's 'player' status from the 40s never really came back in the present. He was too guilty, too stuck in his head with everything he had been through.

The first time he met you, he was speechless. You were so kind and accepting, he didn't know how to respond to your compliments and reassurance.

"If you lookin' for a girl that'll treat you right, if you lookin' for her in the daytime with the light..."

You still refused to make eye contact with Bucky, knowing if it didn't go well you would mess up the rest of the song.

Bucky held his breath as you started singing. Everything you said applied directly to him, but you were singing to Sam.

"You might be the type if I play my cards right. I'll find out by the end of the night."

Sam winked at you causing Bucky to feel a pit of jealousy growing in his stomach, just wanting the song to be over so he could talk to you.

"You expect me to just let you hit it, but will you still respect me if you get it?"

Sam grinned like a man possessed, knowing the next line would really get to Bucky.

"All I can do is try, gimme one chance."

He looked directly at Bucky. It was taunting, almost as if he was saying "this could have been you."

"What's the problem, I don't see no ring on your hand."

Bucky was seeing red. He knew Sam was doing this to mess with him, but he couldn't figure out why you would agree to it.

Maybe Sam told you about Bucky's crush? But, you wouldn't tease him like this. Not unless...

He tuned back into your performance just in time for the chorus.

"Promiscuous girl, wherever you are. I'm all alone, and it's you that I want."

Sam subtly gestured for you to look at Bucky, encouraging you to take a chance. You made direct eye contact with him as you sang, trying to listen to Sam's advice.

"Promiscuous boy, you already know, that I'm all yours what are you waiting for?"

Bucky couldn't stop the ear to ear smile from growing on his face as you sang those words directly to him. You smiled right back, nerves fading completely due to the look on his face.

You threw yourself into the performance, really wanting to give him a show now that you were confident Sam was right.

"Promiscuous girl, you're teasing me. You know what I want, and you got what I need."

Sam looked between you and Bucky, a smug smile appearing on his face. Of course he was right.

You surprised both Sam and Bucky as you kept singing, dancing with Sam in a less than platonic way.

"Promiscuous boy, let's get to the point. 'Cause we're on a roll, you ready?"

Sam faltered for a second before realizing, you were trying to tease Bucky for waiting so long. Teasing Bucky is definitely something he could get on board with.

The two of you danced around the stage, having the time of your lives. Every so often, you would look at Bucky, making sure he was still enjoying the show.

"Roses are read, some diamonds are blue. Chivalry is dead but you're still kinda cute."

Bucky blushed as you made eye contact again. The way you were dancing with Sam filled him with a mixture of jealousy and arousal.

"Hey, I can't keep my mind off you. Where you at? Do you mind if I come through?"

Steve clapped Bucky on his back, drawing his attention from the two of you as you continued the song.

"Don't say it, punk." Bucky was trying to sound intimidating, but the lovestruck look on his face did little to aid him.

"I'm going to say it, jerk. That could've been you up there. Singing..." Steve drew out the pause. "Dancing..." He chuckled as Bucky blushed further.

Steve himself blushed as you and Sam performed, although not for the same reasons as Bucky. He just wasn't used to modern dancing.

Bucky waved him off as he once again made eye contact with you.

"I'm a big girl I can handle myself, but if I get lonely I'ma need your help. Pay attention to me, I don't talk for my health."

You moved your body against Sam's slowly, dragging out the moves as you smirked at Bucky.

"I want you on my team."

"So does everybody else."

You pouted your lips before your tongue darted out to lick the bottom one. You couldn't help but bite your lip at the thought of finally talking to Bucky when this was over.

"Baby, we can keep it on the low. Let your guard down, ain't nobody gotta know. If you with it girl, I know a place we can go."

You finally separated from Sam, looking at him in mock offense to play up the song. You put your hand not holding the mic over your heart, shaking your head with an innocent expression.

"What kinda girl do you take me for?"

You and Sam danced around through another chorus, although much less suggestively than your previous moves.

The song was like static in Bucky's ears as he stared at you, willing time to move faster so he could finally talk to you.

Sam kept smirking at Bucky as he sang, thoroughly enjoying the other man's misery at watching you and him perform.

"Wait, I don't mean no harm. I can see you with my t-shirt on."

"I can see you with nothing on, feeling on me before you bring that on."

You fanned yourself and bit your lip, playing up the sexual themes of the song. Everyone was having a blast watching and listening to you and Sam.

Nat and Wanda were dancing, knowing smiles on their faces as you shamelessly stared at Bucky during the dirtiest parts of the song, knowing you'd get a rise out of him.

Steve kept looking between you, Sam, and Bucky, for once enjoying that he wasn't the one being teased with sexual dancing.

Tony was trying to grind on Pepper, the two of them laughing and smiling as she swatted him away.

You jumped around the stage through the ending of the song, feeling freer than ever knowing your secret was basically out. Anyone who didn't know, clearly wasn't paying enough attention.

You and Sam slid an arm around each other as you finished the song, taking a bow as everyone cheered you on.

As you left the stage, Sam addressed the applause. "Thank you! Thank you!" He bowed again. "I would like to point out, that song was my choice. You're welcome." He said the last part directly to Bucky, ignoring the ever present glares being thrown at him.

You cleared your throat once you were close enough, drawing Bucky's attention away from Sam, who for some reason was still onstage.

"That was quite the performance, doll." Bucky smiled, slightly nervous now that you were so close.

"Well, I had to make you'd regret not agreeing to sing with me." You cheekily replied, still basking in your karaoke confidence. You moved closer, putting one hand on his chest and reaching the other for the back of his neck.

Bucky groaned at the feeling of your hands on him, reciprocating the touches. He moved a hand to your waist, the other taking up residence on your cheek.

"You're teasing me." You whispered as he just stared at you.

"I'd say it's only fair. I had to watch you dance with Sam." Bucky grinned, enjoying the banter.

"That's your own fault." You huffed, annoyed it was taking so long for him to kiss you. "I asked- no, begged you to do karaoke with me. It's not my fault you-"

He cut you off, pressing his lips to your own. You immediately reciprocated the action, eagerly pulling him closer.

"Let me make it up to you." Bucky breathe out when you finally pulled apart for air.

You smiled, fully separating yourself from him and walking toward the door.

When you were a few steps away from him, you turned back, looking him up and down. "What are you waiting for?"

Permanent tag list:

@averyhotchner

[daverygalskisbff]

could we get some allura & lance friendship prompts? i LOVED your other ones btw 💖💖💖💖

HI I'm sorry this took forever I have honestly no idea why bc I adore these two and I ADORE this prompt so my brain should not have shut down the way it did. anywayz to make up for the wait i tried to make this a bit longer than my usual posts :) I hope you like it!

(also, as usual, everything here I came up with myself, and if there's any similarity to someone elses post I apologise and promise it wasn't intentional)

now without further ado,

Lance and Allura!

similar to lance and pidge, the two are decidedly Not close in the beginning 

i had an entire thing about how i imagine they became friends at first written out, but it was a tad too long and i didn't want to clog up the post with too much exposition. so instead, let's just skip forward and get into their dynamic after they become buddies :) (however, if anyone wants to see the backstory I would not be opposed) 

although he no longer has a crush on her, lance makes it a point to hype her up as much as he possibly can 

at first allura was confused, because she thought it was him trying to flirt with her still, but once she understood what was going on she was more than willing to join in 

lance when allura completely destroys the training droid: WOWZA ladies and gentlemen of the jury may I present to you the icon the legend the moment herself her royal highness princess allura of altea!!!!! if you thought that was impressive just WAIT till she gets warmed up because this is just the beginning!!! she can even do it in heels- 

shiro: lance, please focus, this is really important that we- 

allura: no no, shiro, please. let him finish. 

they both show their friendship in slightly different ways. lance's way is that he is physically incapable of not humouring the princess

allura when lance shows her his cartwheel: incredible!!!!!!! i have never been more impressed in my life!!! do you think you could do it in heels?? 

lance: uhhh. y'know princess I'm really loving the faith, but- 

allura: :)? 

lance:.... what if you don't have my size? 

lance fractured his ankle. allura has yet to stop apologising. 

allura's way is definitely safer, but it's also a lot more... cluttered. to say the least.

allura, returning from a recon mission with a tiny bag filled with what looks like tiny, glittery dinosaur figurines made of glass: lance! look at what i bought for you! 

lance, taking one look at the contents of the bag: wow, 'lurra, this is… so nice of you

allura: lance, are you. are you crying? 

lance (definitely crying): what? NO! of course not!! I'm just. allergic, to. uh. oxygen. 

allura: what. 

allura never had any siblings back on altea, but she always wanted them

this, paired with how much lance misses his own family, means that the two of them kind of gravitate towards each other in terms of siblinghood. 

as a child allura would imagine what it would be like to have siblings, but especially a twin. she would fall asleep to dreams of secret handshakes, finishing each other's sentences, and swapping places to trick people

she doesn't realise the brother she has found in lance until a long time after they've become close (how would she recognise a dynamic she has never been privy to?) 

this realisation happens on just a random day in the castleship lounge. she is talking to hunk, when suddenly lance, who she didn't even realise was listening to their conversation, butts in and finishes her sentence. 

she's annoyed at being interrupted at first, but then what happened sinks in, and suddenly she's fighting off tears. lance doesn't know why she's crying, but he hugs her anyway. 

the two of them match accessories a lot 

with allura's love of pretty things (and the abundance of stuff in her closet) paired with lance's natural dramatics, nobody else on the team is entirely sure of whether this is intentional or not. 

it started off as intentional. it is now second nature. 

one decision, however, was completely planned and thought out for exactly twenty minutes, and then deeply regretted by both parties for the next 48 hours

allura pierced lance's ears 

now before you get judgemental, you try making a smart decision at two am space-time while very giddy and slightly buzzing on some weird old alien candy that not even your resident alien is sure the ingredients of. then talk to me. 

pidge: okay so you're gonna need a needle, ice, and… yeah I'm pretty sure that's it 

lance: don't we need a potato too

pidge: … why the fuck would you need a potato 

lance: I dunno!!! my sister pierced her friend's ears one time and she mentioned a potato!!! I'm just trying to make sure everything goes well, pidge! 

allura: I love these earth customs you two are showing me!! when I got my ears pierced it was done with some kind of laser, but your way sounds much more fun :). 

allura: also, what is a "potato" and where can we find one? 

it goes about as well as you would expect 

the excited buzz on lance lasts about three ticks into the process, and then the screaming starts

pidge (the genius who came up with the idea) gives him some altean taffy to chew on to stop him from making too much noise, and allura, the angel, is babbling right along with him 

allura, with tears in her eyes: how was I supposed to know it was going to hurt mine didn't hurt well it was 10,000 years ago and I was very young altean children don't have very strong pain receptors you know, maybe that's why my parents had it done at that age, or maybe your people are just completely barbaric, who thought this would be a good idea?? pidge why did you suggest this poor lonce is in tears lonce I'm so sorry but if it's any consolation at all at least now your ears won't be nearly as hideous as before and you can borrow as many of my earrings as you want except for the sparkly green ones that dangle those are my favourite well they're actually my second favourite I'm wearing my favourite - you can't borrow those either, by the way, but you can have any of the others I promise 

lance, also crying and still chewing the altean taffy: hhb, llura yub domf hoff do bologuys, ss long'ss yub sanstsd thu niddle frst 

allura (who did not remember to sanitize the needle), now crying freely: I don't understand what you're saying 

(pidge records the entire thing)

the next day lance wakes up with ears that are very sore and slightly green, and allura faints

they spend the entire morning avoiding shiro in case they get in trouble and trying to figure out how to get the healing pods to work

lance: what do you mean you don't know allura you literally lived in one of these 

allura: I was asleep the whole time!!! don't put this on me!! 

lance: don't put- you are the one that pierced my ears, allura, of course it's on you!

coran, who has been watching this entire interaction in silence: oh, I thought i noticed something different about you, number three! 

lance and allura: [screaming] 

coran helps them set up the healing pod 

unfortunately lance has to take the earrings out, so the holes close back up, but fortunately coran just so happens to know how to pierce ears the correct way that they did on altea 

lance, after half a day in the healing pod, watching coran advance upon him with a literal handheld flamethrower that shoots lasers: is it too late to go back to the ear infection 

coran is surprisingly very adept at the skill of altean beautification (an activity that has a surprisingly long and rich backstory, which lance and allura get an in-depth lesson on for the hour that it takes to do lance's ears properly) 

they're exhausted afterwards, but lance looks great, so they're in good moods regardless 

they like to teach each other about things from their respective planets - both for fun, and because it helps them feel less homesick 

whenever allura is particularly down about the loss of altea, lance will visit her in her room, and the two of them will just lie together on her bed. 

they don't say much, most of the time, just link their pinkies together and stare at the ceiling 

when they do talk, it's quiet, and always allura who starts it - she might share something she remembers about altea, and lance listens quietly and then responds with something he misses about cuba 

it isn't always sad tho - sometimes they just talk about things they remember that pop into their heads, or explain things to each other that they wouldn't otherwise know 

at the space mall, they make a game out of pointing things out to each other and trying to guess what it is (allura can only guess when they're in the earth shop, but it's okay because she more than makes up for it in enthusiasm) 

lance, holding a my little pony collectible: okay princess. what is this.

allura, completely serious: a weapon

lance: ... close

allura, holding up a set of magnetic heart necklaces to the light: what does… "biffs" mean? 

lance: it's "bffs," princess, it means "best friends forever" 

allura: oh! you mean like me and you? 

lance: 

lance: 'lurra what did we say about making me cry in public, we've talked about this- 

(they buy the necklaces. obviously.)

they mess with each other's hair a lot

once allura learns that lance's hair is naturally curly, and that he just straightens it all of the time, she makes it her god-given mission to convince him to wear it naturally more often

this mission includes plans such as stealing his hair straightener, "donating" a bunch of curly hair products to him because she "doesn't have the space", and getting keith to say he thinks curly hair is cool one day in the rec room

she still thinks it's the funniest thing ever that that actually worked

other than week-long sabotage plots, they both think it's fun to have lance braid allura's hair

he used to braid his sister's and niece's hairs all of the time, so he has a knack for it that allura did not expect at all but is obsessed with anyway

allura, coming to lance's room a few hours before another diplomatic party: hey..... how yall doin.....

lance, already prepared with a million different brushes and bands: oh my god just get in already

lance and allura have a lot in common 

one of these things, they learn very early into their relationship, is that they are both disasters when it comes to pretty girls (and boys, but that's a lance-exclusive situation)

so they become each other's wingmen

they both tend to get… a little too into it 

the team: [at a diplomatic ball]

lance, seeing a pretty alien girl looking allura's way and "politely" speedwalking over to her: alluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraallura pretty girl look over there eleven o'clock LOOK she's gonna walk away looklooklook

allura: lance darling thank you so much for your help but I am in the middle of talking to the president 

and alternatively: 

allura tries to set lance and keith up all the time. at first she was worried she would be overstepping boundaries, but after one particular sleepover where lance spent an entire hour lamenting his "bad luck" she decided to take things into her own hands 

this includes, but is not limited to; sending them on supply missions alone together (often), mentioning particular things lance has done to his appearance to keith every time she can, and talking about specific paladin bonds more than she maybe should 

lance hates it

keith, walking into the lounge: h-

allura, immediately: hello keith!! help settle an argument, will you :)? 

keith: um… okay 

allura: lovely! now, tell me, do you think lance looks cuter today than he did yesterday? we can't seem to agree on whether or by he's stunning or simply handsome. what do you think? 

keith: uh-

allura: oh, and while I have you, have you noticed that his ears are pierced? 

lance, beet red: allu-

allura: what :(?? can't i be proud of my handiwork?? 

lance, to keith: I am not associated with her

after a week of this keith literally sets up a system where if allura is in a room he walks into he just does a complete 180 and walks back out

one time, at a diplomatic meeting, an alien politician mistook them for a couple and they both choked on their drinks at the same time, and then got offended that the other one agreed that the concept was insane 

allura: what happened to being the princess of your dreams, lance?? I thought I MEANT something to you. obviously! i was wrong! 

lance: oh yeah?? then why did you GIGGLE, allura. what's so funny, huh?? my good looks??? my charming charisma?? how far out of your league I am??? 

allura: 

lance: okay maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch 

another thing lance and allura do is pronounce each other's names wrong

they call each other lonce and allora 

it started as lance kind of making fun of allura's accent, but turned into just one of their Things 

allura honestly didn't know it was a bit until the habit had been long constructed

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family

Word Count: 1804

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury

Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson

A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!

Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.

But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few  voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.

“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”

The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”

You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.

His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”

You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”

“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

*************************

Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.

“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”

You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.

“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”

“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”

You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”

“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.

“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-” 

“Y/N! You’re back!”

You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”

She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”

“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”

“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.

“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”

“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”

You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.

“You’re back early.”

“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”

He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”

You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”

“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”

“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”

You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”

He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?”

“I’m just sayin’!”

“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”

His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”

“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”

“Is that why you came back late?”

Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot.  “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”

Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”

“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”

You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.

What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?

You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.

With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​

[ptergwen]

hi val! i'm the one who sent in that peter annoying reader request. god that was such a good one i felt it 😂 can i ask for a part 2 for that?? maybe the reader somehow tells brad that she has a crush on peter so that was why she was so hurt he made fun of her, and brad helps her plotting against peter, it ends up peter being absolutely mad?? How it ends is up to you val! Thank you!!

gotcha

w/c: 1.4k

warnings: swearing and jealous peter hehe

a/n: here’s part one :,) i really like this concept so i ended up doin a oneshot

-

“ok, y/n. be honest,” brad prompts you, the two of you walking home from decathlon practice. “were you really crying because you didn’t remember the first president?” his lips pull into a knowing smirk. you bite a smile back and hold on to your backpack straps. “i mean, that’s part of it.” “say more,” he bumps your shoulder with his.

“i was crying because peter probably thinks i’m stupid now,” you admit, your grip tightening on your backpack. brad doesn’t try to cover up his scoff. “who cares what peter thinks?” squinting at him, you hit his arm lightly. “i do. he’s my friend.” “so am i. it shouldn’t be any different,” brad points out, clearly offended.

the sidewalk is empty except for you two, so you stop walking. brad does the same and makes a face at you. “right?” “no. i...” you take in a breath. you’re not looking forward to his reaction. “i like him. i like peter.” brad’s face goes from confused to terrified.

him and peter have hated each other for as long as you’ve known them. it’s why you keep him separate from the rest of your friends.

“he made you feel like crap, y/n! he’s a-“ “don’t call him a dick again,” you cut brad off and start to walk without him. he quickly catches up, his eyes still fixed on you. “i don’t get it. the dude pretty much says he’s better than you, and you like him,” brad tries to change your mind. too bad for him, you’re not easily persuaded.

“he was just playing around. he didn’t know i was actually upset, or he would’ve stopped,” you defend peter and your taste in guys. “we do that.” “y/n, please. you have so many other options,” brad all but begs, moving so he’s in front of you. he’s walking backwards now. you step past him and leave him behind you.

“no, brad. i’ve liked him for a while already,” the hurt is evident in your voice. you didn’t expect him to be happy about this, but jeez. could he show some support? brad picks up on your mood change and feels bad about it. unlike peter, he has self awareness. “i’m... sorry. are you gonna, like, tell him?” he asks with a nervous smile.

you smile back, yours wicked. “sort of. that’s where you come in.”

-

the next day at school, peter looks for you first thing. everyone is at your locker. everyone including brad. whatever, that’s not important right now. his main focus is on telling you how awful he feels about yesterday.

mj notices him walk up first, so she takes a step back to open the circle. she presses her lips together and clears her throat. that gets ned’s attention. ned realizes peter is here and offers an awkward smile. peter nods at him and turns to you. his eyes are already pleading.

the smile that was just on your face fades out. “oh,” is all you murmur out, then add, “hi.” “hi,” peter drags the word out. he glances over at brad. he’s standing too close to you for peter’s liking. squeezing his eyes shut, they land on you when he opens them.

“listen, y/n. i’m so sorry about everything i said. i didn’t realize i was the only one laughing,” peter tells you, every word sounding genuine. ned looks between the two of you sadly. “there’s.... there’s no excuse,” he keeps going. your features soften from the look of guilt on his face.

mj nods at you as a way of saying to let him finish. she would never let shit like this slide, so you know peter has to mean it.

“and i don’t think any less of you. it was a mistake,” peter’s eyes drop down to the floor. “i’ve said the wrong answer before, too.” those words heal what the ones from yesterday broke. you’re fully ready to forgive him now. “thank you. that made me feel a lot better,” you give peter a small smile.

“we’re good,” you assure him, peter now sporting a grin of his own. that is, until brad throws an arm around your shoulders. he’d almost forgotten he was there. you lean back against his chest as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

huh?

the rest of the group gets into a conversation about what you should do over the weekend. guess that means brad will be there. peter doesn’t hear a single word because he’s too busy staring at you. you’re cuddling in the middle of the hallway with the only person on earth he completely hates.

brad is right on time whenever he messes up. the one time it’s with you and now he’s, what, your boyfriend? it’s not fair.

you’d drafted a plan with brad last night to get this exact response. you convinced him to fake date you. peter would hopefully get jealous, which he did, and that would prove if he likes you or not. it’s also good payback for making you cry over abraham lincoln.

brad didn’t want to do it at first because anything that ends with you dating peter, he refused to be part of. you brought up the fact that he would get to piss him off all day. then, he fell in love with the idea.

-

you stay attached to brad’s side all day. holding hands when you walk from class to class, sitting close to him at lunch. he’s never joined your group for lunch before. plus, you normally sit next to peter. he has to sit next to betty today. she talks a lot.

part of peter thought you liked him. he has other friends who are girls, and he doesn’t act the same with them. is your banter not flirting? did he interpret everything wrong? apparently he did because now you’re kissing brad’s cheek while he sips his orange juice.

that’s it for him. he gets up from the bench without any explanation and takes off, not bothering to bring his stuff. you pull away from brad and frown.

“i think it worked,” he comments, casually wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. ned and mj share a look. “you’re aren’t... dating?” she points at you and brad, which you shut down. “no, we’re fake dating. i like peter.” “oh, shit. you do? he likes you too!” ned blurts out. betty’s eyes grow the size of her whole face.

“how did i miss this? you guys don’t tell me anything!” she scolds you all and grabs your hand. “you have to go after him.” you look over at brad, who gives you a nod of approval. he’ll learn to hate peter a little less for you. “i am,” you decide and quickly slip out from the table. everyone shouts good luck wishes after you.

-

you find peter in a stairway on the second floor. he takes it to get to his next class, so you thought to come here. he’s sitting on the staircase with his arm on the railing. his head is leaning on his arm. he looks completely defeated. you might have broken his heart instead of made him jealous.

peter lifts his head when he sees you coming up the stairs. you wordlessly sit down next to him. clearing your throat, you get ready to say something. he talks first.

“i thought you and brad were just friends,” peter states with no emotion behind it. your heart starts thumping in your chest. “we are.” he licks his lips out of habit. “doesn’t look like it.” “i asked him to fake date me, peter,” you admit and search for his eyes, turning to face him on the stair. his eyebrows furrow. “what?”

“i wanted to make you jealous. i didn’t know you’d end up like... this,” you gesture to the mopey state he’s in. peter shakes his head in disbelief. “can we go back to the first part? you wanted to make me jealous?” a smile spreads across your face. “yeah.”

your lips suddenly land on his cheek, leaving both of them pink. he touches where you kissed him and grins. “if that didn’t make it clear, i like you,” you laugh out and scoot back from him. “i like you, too,” peter takes your hand before you go too far. he laces your fingers together.

“ned already told me.” you squeeze his hand and he lets out a breath. “i can’t even be mad at him.”

peter has a pretty great best friend. you do, too. you actually got brad to help you pull this whole thing off. he might not be so bad after all.

[maybe-theres-hope]

Tarlos Fic - Dinner Date

3.2k | T | Warnings: Blood, Injuries (mostly minor) | Contains: Judd/Carlos friendship, Tarlos being perfect, blue Camaro (rip)

Read on AO3

“So, what are your plans for the night?” Nancy asked as they exited the ambulance, their shift nearly over as long as the bell didn’t go off in the next ten minutes. 

TK smiled to himself for a moment before he spoke. “Well, Carlos is taking me to Jeffrey’s, so…”

“Holy mother,” Nancy breathed, looking at him with obvious envy. “Do you guys have a ten year anniversary or something coming up? Did he get some kind of commendation at work? Because I know your last one was like a month ago, so.”

“No, no anniversary, that’s in a couple of months. And its three years, Nance.” He chose to ignore her muttering about their mushiness ‘aging me ten years’. “And nothing from work that I know of. Maybe he just loves me?” TK couldn’t stop grinning while they stocked the bus and readied for the handover. 

“He loves you crap ton! Their wagyu strip steak is a hundred and twenty-five dollars!” Nancy had her phone out, obviously googling the menu. 

“Well at least we’ll save money on wine,” TK said with a chuckle.

“I’ve heard of the place by reputation but like, dude, who ever gets the chance to actually go there?”

“TK it seems,” Tommy cut in. “Why don’t you go on? We got it here and you’re gonna need at least an hour to pick out an outfit.”

“And gel your hair. You and your dad are way more alike than you want to admit,” Nancy added with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You sure, Cap? I can stay and help?”

“I’m sure, kiddo. Go get dolled up for your man. Eat a few bites for us, yeah?” Tommy yelled at his retreating figure. She and Nancy looked at each other with grins as they caught the little skip in his step. 

“So, what do you think the occasion is?”

Tommy looked back at Nancy with a gleam in her eye. “I can wager a guess, but I don’t want to jinx it.” Nancy just gave her a look and went back to restocking.

--

Around 8 p.m., Owen was sitting in his office toying with his phone in his hand, smiling at his last text exchange. 

we’re just leaving the house now, wish me luck!

you’re not gonna need it, kid :)

“Not if I know my son anyway,” Owen said aloud to the empty room. He wondered if it’d happened yet. No incoherent string of emoji’s from TK yet, so he doubted it. 

He was shoving the phone back into his pocket with the bell went off. 

--

“Alright guys,” Owen said into the mic from the Captain’s chair. “Dispatch says three vehicles involved, two still on the road and one went over the side into the ravine. Police are on their way but we’ll probably beat ‘em there. Strickland, Marwani, soon as we get there I want you to harness up and get down in that ravine. Judd, you too. You’ll be in command down there and I’ll stay up top with the other two vehicles. Everybody else you’re with me, got it?”

A chorus of “Copy that, Cap,” and suddenly they were on the scene. 

--

“Marjan, Paul, we’re goin’ down!” Judd called to them as the rest of the crew went over to the silver Prius and black Mazda that were crumpled in the middle of the two-lane highway. Judd wasn’t a prayin’ man, but he sent up a little something to the man upstairs that this went their way. It looked bad. 

Paul arrived at his side first, strapped into his gear. “Marjan’s grabbing the bag from the truck, she’s coming.” 

“Alright. We’ll go down this way,” Judd said, pointing to a safe-ish stretch of hillside. “Can’t see the other car from here but dispatch said bystanders saw it go over. Probably just hidden in the trees.”

“Okay guys, let’s do this!” Marjan called, harnessed and carrying the medical bag and a backboard. “TK’s gonna be sad he missed this. Medical doesn’t get to harness up a lot and I know he loved it. He coulda helped.”

“Nah, he’s got better things tonight. Carlos was takin’ him to Jeffrey’s,” Paul said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

“Ohh, fancy,” Marjan said with a smile. “What’s the occasion?”

They’d reached the bottom and were starting to look through the brush and low-hanging trees for a vehicle. 

“Don’t know,” Paul answered. “But I think Cap’s in on it somehow.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Judd cut in as he whacked a few branches out of his way. “Carlos came by the station a few weeks ago, and they sat up in Cap’s office for an hour before he left grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater.” 

“I have no idea what that means,” Paul said with a laugh. 

“Hey guys, look!” Marjan called from a few yards to the left. The other two went to her position and saw what she’d found. A track in the underbrush where it had been torn at and flattened. “Think this is the place.”

“Let’s go,” said Judd. They followed the path through the brush for a couple of yards before they caught sight of it: taillights. “Alright, Marjan you go on the passenger side, I got the driver. Paul you see if you can clear some of that brush off the back in case the doors are jammed and we gotta get ‘em out that’a way.”

Visibility was still low despite the lights of the car and their flashlights, but as they approached they saw the car wrapped around the trunk of a tree on the passenger side. “I don’t know if I can get in there, Judd, but I’ll try,” Marjan said as she broke out into a jog.

“Wait!” Paul cried. Judd looked over at him, and he would have said such a thing couldn’t happen to a calm and collected person like Paul, but his face had gone ashen. “That’s Carlos’s car,” he said on a breath. 

“What?” In the dark, now that he was really looking, he could see they were coming up on—what used to be—a blue Camaro. 

“I’m sure of it. TK bullied him into putting that sticker on the back because he said it was too pristine and it needed personality.” He shone his flashlight at the rear bumper and sure enough, there was a SXSW sticker half ripped off from the path the car had taken to get there. 

“Come on,” Judd said, heart rate kicking up.

“Should we call Cap?” Paul asked.

“No, we stay down here and do our jobs, and he stays up there and does his. We’ll get ‘em.” His voice sounded numb even to his own ears, but he was determined. 

“They were on their way to dinner,” Paul said lowly.

“Yeah, probably takin’ the backroads to avoid traffic,” Judd said, shaking his head. Fate was hell sometimes.

When they reached the car, Marjan was yelling. “TK! TK can you hear me?” She turned to Judd. “I can’t get in there. The tree trunk is halfway into the car, probably pinning him to the console. He’s unresponsive.” Her face was also pale, but determined. 

Judd went to the driver’s side and saw Carlos, head hanging to the side facing the broken window. He tried the door as he called out. “Carlos? Hey Carlos, come on buddy. Can you hear me?” The door wouldn’t budge; Judd figured the car had rolled a couple of times coming down the hill, crumpling it like a tin can. Then he heard a soft groan.

He looked up, and one of Carlos’s eyes was trying to open. The other was swollen shut, where he’d probably hit his head on the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. Half his face had burn marks from it. 

“Hey, hey Carlos, look at me, that’s it.” That one eye tracked around before it landed on Judd, drawn to the light of the flashlight on his helmet. “Hey man. We’re gonna get you out okay? Now, can you move your fingers and toes for me?” Judd stuck his head into the window to see down in the floor boards. “Alright, likely no spinal damage. How’s your head?”

“Hurts. Shoulder, too.” His voice was barely audible. 

“Okay, it looks like you dislocated it,” Judd said as he prodded his left shoulder. “I don’t see anything broken but we’ll have to get you out to determine that.”

“TK—“ a wheeze, “TK…first. Been out…a while.”

Judd peered over to the passenger side, where TK was shoved almost fully into the center console, head laid back on the headrest and his face covered in blood. Marjan and Paul were still hard at work outside trying to clear a path into the car. 

“We can’t get to his side just yet, but we can get you out first and then we’ll be able to pull him out this way, okay? We wanna focus on you right now.”

“Alive.”

“Yeah, you’re alive, Carlos. You’re not gonna leave us yet,” he said as he assessed the door panels where they could cut through with the saws they brought. 

“No. TK. Weak, but…alive,” Carlos breathed out, coughing through the end.

“We’ll make sure he’s alive, okay?” Judd said, trying not to lose his professionalism at this whole messed up situation.

“He is.” Judd stopped looking around and looked back at Carlos. The man raised his right hand just as much as he was able, showing where he had two fingers on TK’s radial pulse. 

“Good, that’s good Carlos,” Judd assured him. That meant Carlos had had some minutes of consciousness after the accident before they showed up. “Was he talking at all? After you hit the tree?”

“Little. Minutes, maybe.”

“That’s good, that’ll help. Alright Carlos, we’re gonna get this door off so I’m gonna cover you with this while we do okay?” Judd waited for a small nod before he covered Carlos’s face and torso with his own turnout coat. 

After an agonizing four minutes, the door popped off in a shower of metal and broken glass. Judd removed the coat and went back in to assess. “Carlos? How you doin’?”

“Tired. But won’t…sleep. Promise. That’s bad.”

“You learn a few things from your Paramedic boyfriend?” Judd said with a watery smile.

“Mmm.”

“Judd, I got the back cleared. Maybe we can get in there to at least check TK’s vitals,” Paul informed them. 

“Get on it, I’ma try to get Carlos here out onto this backboard. Marjan, radio for another backboard and have two RA’s ready to go topside!”

“Copy that!” Judd had to admire those two. They never let their professionalism slip too far, though he could see they were worried sick. He could relate. He wouldn’t relax until both of the boys were back up the hill and on the way to the hospital.

From the looks of things, maybe not even then. But he had hope.

“Alright, Carlos, I’m gonna grab your legs and behind your shoulders here and pull you out, okay? It’s gonna hurt like hell, but it’ll be quick.”

“Wait.”

Judd stopped cold.

“Left…pocket. Please.”

“You want me to get at your left pocket?” A nod. “Alright, hang on.”

Judd carefully shifted Carlos’s leg so he could reach into his slacks, which had probably been part of a very nice suit at the beginning of the night. His fingers searched until they hit a small bump, an object no bigger than a baseball, soft velvet over a hard shell. He sucked his lips between his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he pulled it free in his hand. 

“Keep it…safe…for me?”

Judd looked down at the little black box for a moment, then clutched it tight in his hand before transferring it one of the innermost pockets of his turnout. 

“Of course, man. I will guard this with my life.” He looked up and saw Marjan coming back with another backboard. “Alright, buddy. It’s go time.”

Carlos gave a weak nod and winced when Judd started to pull. 

--

“Welcome back, man. You had us worried there for a bit.”

Carlos opened his good eye to see Judd sitting at his bedside, smiling softly. It took a moment to remember where he was. Hospital. Accident. Tree.

“TK—“

“Is fine. Banged up and will need crutches for a few weeks, not to mention a killer headache with no meds, but he’s fine. All things considered.”

“Where is he?”

“On his way, so you just stay put, okay? You’re pretty banged up, too, ya’know.”

Carlos shifted a bit and winced. His left arm was in a sling, his head bandaged over his left eye, and his right side hurt like hell.

“Broken rib when the tree went into TK’s door, door went into TK, TK went into the console, then the console went into you. He’s got a femoral fracture in his right leg but like I said, all things considered, you’re both pretty well off for how far you fell and probably rolled.” 

“Yeah, he said his leg had gone numb but he could still move his toes. He made sense for about five minutes, then started talking all jumbled, then went quiet. I uh…freaked out a bit after that. I thought he had…” Carlos trailed off, looking haunted. 

“Yeah, and you kept your fingers on his pulse that whole time. What you were able to tell us at the scene helped us treat him. You did good, Carlos.”

“Not good enough to swerve in time,” he said.

“Not your fault. And don’t you dare go thinkin’ it is. I don’t wanna hear it, Carlos,” Judd said in what TK called his Dad Voice. Stern and no room for argument. Carlos just nodded. 

“And uh, hey. I been waitin’ to give this back to you.” Judd stood and walked over to the bed, holding out a tiny black box. Carlos took it and cradled it against his chest. “It better be a nice one, cuz I about had a heart attack while I was showerin’ thinkin’ someone was gonna come get my pile a’clothes and take ‘em to the laundry while I was gone.”

“You didn’t open it?”

“Nah, I figure the big reveal? TK deserves that all to himself.” 

“Owen’s seen it,” Carlos countered, smirking.

“Uh huh. He approve?”

Carlos laughed. “He whistled and said I spent too much.”

“To impress the Cap it must be a lot,” Judd said with a small whistle of his own.

“Well, what was it Michael Scott said? Three years’ salary?”

Judd’s eyes almost popped out of his head, and Carlos laughed harder before wincing again at his broken rib. “I’m kidding, Judd. But I can tell you, no matter the cost, TK deserves the best and that’s what I hope I got.”

“You gonna make another reservation? Soon as y’all get back into fightin’ shape?”

Carlos looked down at the box again for a moment, contemplating. “I…don’t think so.”

Judd had a confused expression on his face but at that moment, a nurse was wheeling TK into the room, followed by most of the 126. Carlos’s face lit up like starlight at the sight of him.

“Hey, babe,” TK said with a smile. His leg was in a full cast, so the nurse was careful in maneuvering him around to Carlos’s bedside. 

“Hey, I feel like you should be the one in bed! Why are you out and about?”

“Because you were still asleep and he’s an absolute menace. We made multiple apologies to the staff on his behalf for the last hour,” Owen said as he walked into the room behind his crew. “He’s a stubborn little shit. Always has been, always will be. You sure you’re up for that?” He asked knowingly. TK was still looking at Carlos, blushing at his dad’s ribbing. Carlos met his eyes and said, “Yes.” He blushed more. 

“In fact,” Carlos continued. “I’m ready to get started. I’ve waited too long anyway. I mean, how many times do you and I have to beat death before I get the nerve to do this?” He said, looking into TK’s beautiful eyes which were looking confused. 

“What are you talking about, babe?”

“Look, I’m sorry this didn’t go how I planned. And I’m sorry I can’t get down on one knee right now, but. I hope you love me enough not to mind.” He lifted his good arm, his hand holding out the box. “A little help, Judd?”

“It’d be an honor,” the man said before leaning in and opening the box, since Carlos only had one good arm. 

At the sight of the contents of the box, TK’s eyes went as big as saucers. Surprise was written clearly over every inch of his features, which were all still beautiful even scarred and stitched up as they were at the moment. God, Carlos loved this man so much. 

“Tyler Kennedy Strand, you are the love of my life. I tried so many different scenarios in my head of how this speech would go, before I just said screw it, I’ll speak from the heart. You’re kind, funny, sexy, sweet, and everything in between. You can’t boil water and you absolutely can’t properly separate laundry. I have a dozen pink shirts as proof of that.” At this, the gathered group chuckled and TK went bright red. “Ah, but you also know just how to ease the tension from a long day just by hugging me on the doorstep. And I can always count on you to be there for me when the world gets too much, when what we see out there creeps in too far. And I want you to know, that I want to be that for you too, for the rest of our lives. So, TK. Will you marry me?”

The room was silent, apart from the hum and beeps of the machines. Everyone on the edge of their proverbial seats, but no one having any doubt to the outcome. 

“Oh, my God! Of course I’ll marry you! Yes, yes! Yes!” The last was said through TK’s fingers covering his red face, hiding the few tears that had started to fall. He held out his left hand to Carlos, who Judd had kindly helped by removing the ring from its box and handing it back to him. He slid it over TK’s finger, smiling like an idiot the whole time, barely registering the whoops and hollers of the 126 throughout the room. 

He only had eyes for TK. 

“I love you,” TK breathed through his happy tears.

“I love you too, baby. Always.”

“Oh, my God, dude, were you seriously surprised?” Nancy asked incredulously once the commotion had died down.

“Well…yeah? I didn’t expect this at all,” TK said, looking sheepish. 

“TK…my dude…he was taking you to Jeffrey’s! How could you not know?”

Once again, the room erupted in laughter and TK ducked his head again. Carlos reached out and touched his chin, catching his eyes again.

There was nothing but love there. 

CLEARLY every Tarlos fic I write has to have a proposal in it *shrug emoji* 

Also I wrote this in like an hour after I had a dream so please excuse any typos I didn’t catch!

Please reblog if you liked it! I would really really appreciate it :) Thank you for reading!

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 17

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter, grasping for straws to remain 'The Prank Master,' thinks he's found a way to annoy you into conceding. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, what he's found is something much worse.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Content Warning for descriptions/mentions of PTSD and flashbacks. Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 34 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6,761

Red covered your mouth and nose, all over your hand, and a bit on your sheets. You blearily tried to gather your senses, tried to open your eyes against the unforgiving light that blinded you.

Peter stood over you, laughing. Telling you that you got what was coming to you as you groaned.

That fecker had put ketchup in your hand while you slept and then tickled your nose with one of the fuzzy-tipped novelty pens on your desk. The dickhead.

"Ugh! Gross! Dude!?" you complain, sitting up and reaching over to grab the tissues off your desk so you could clean yourself up.

"Serves you right for what you did to me!" Peter countered, gesturing to the blue staining his body. He began to walk out of your room, making sure to let you know that you shouldn't expect the two of you were even.

You roll your eyes and continue wiping the ketchup-y mess off of you. You glance down at your sheets and realized you'd need to wash them today too. Great. Guess this is what you got for sleeping-in.

Once you had finally cleaned yourself up you gathered your sheets to take them downstairs to wash them, but not before making a pit-stop to Peter's room. Wanting to make the trip quick you grabbed the first thing you could find- his comb- and pocketed it. It was about to have a date with some jelly.

As you turned to leave his room you saw Rocket standing in the hall just outside the door.

With a knowing grin he asked, "Whatcha doin' there?"

"Nothing," you answer flatly, gathering your sheets back up.

He let you pass but said, "So I guess I didn't just see you steal Quill's comb, then?" There was amusement in his voice.

"He'll get it back," you answer, not pausing in your walk towards the stairs.

"What do you plan on doing to it?" he asked, intrigued. He had no intents to squeal on you. This prank-y-ness was a side of you he had been pleasantly surprised to see. Much better the the stiff agent-type you usually liked to display. Had he maybe misjudged you?

"The less you know the better," you answered, continuing down the stairs.

No witnesses. Rocket liked your style. Maybe you didn't have such a stick up your butt after all.

***

You threw your sheets in the washer and put the kettle on. It was time to make some jelly.

While waiting for the kettle you grabbed the packet of jelly from the pantry and something quick for breakfast. Deciding on a granola bar, you go to pull one from the box when you also notice that all your spices had been flipped upside down. Obviously Peter's doing. That's also when you remember that you had hidden the rest of the food dye behind the spices, prompting you to give a quick peek to see that the box was still there.

It wasn't.

Peter must have found it while setting up his prank and took them, intent on making the two of you "even."

Crap.

The kettle began to whistle and you pulled yourself out of your thoughts of doom to start fixing the jelly. You could think about the dye later. Right now you had mischief to make.

You mix up the jelly in a glass bowl, adding in an extra packet of gelatin to make sure the shape would hold later. Then, looking around to make sure no one was around, you take Peter's comb out of your pocket and drop it in. The bowl was just big enough for the comb to catch on the sides roughly about halfway deep in the jelly water, so that when you turned it out it would be nicely suspended in the green jelly. You then quickly take the bowl to the fridge to set, burying it in the back on the bottom shelf so it hopefully wouldn't be seen.

Then you simply went about your day as normal.

***

Other than several bad puns, Peter surprisingly didn't attempt much to annoy you that day, and you had no doubts that it was because he was confident that he'd be able to return the favor in dyeing you an odd color when you showered tonight.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Too bad for him he had no way to know that you knew, and you were confident that you could deal with it when that time came if you paid enough attention. For now you were just going to act none-the-wiser, and accept his invitation to watch a show with the others.

You settled in on the couch and the episode starts. It's a title you haven't heard of before.

Watching it you gathered it was a type of mystery/detective/thriller type that was somehow also a comedy. A detective was accused of killing this old lady, and he was on the run to try and prove his innocence. Lots of action, a bunch of red-herrings, overall not a bad show so far if you had to judge by this episode.

Then there was the end-scene.

The detective finally found the actual murderer, the mayor, and after tricking him into broadcasting his confession over the radio in this abandoned radio station- where he somehow had managed to make a broadcast work- the two fight. Only the mayor has a gun, and the detective's fell into a storm drain two scenes ago.

Through his cunning the detective manages to escape alive, but not unharmed. He's got a compound fracture to his leg. Cops are on the scene and arresting the mayor after surrounding him at gunpoint, and ambulances can be heard in the background.

You feel the hair on your arms stand up.

The sound of the sirens just keeps getting louder.

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

They get louder. You look away from the screen into your lap.

All you can hear now is sirens. You don't realize they've already stopped on the screen. There's now instead dialogue, a conversation between characters, but you are unaware of it.

Your hands clench into fists, nails digging into your palms. You fight the images in your head. You don't want to see them. You hear sounds of tearing metal. Sirens. Screaming. Beeping. Your breathing gets shallow and you work to keep it quiet. You had to fight it back. Sirens. Bright lights. Glass shattering. Screaming. Sirens. You keep saying to yourself inside your mind that it's ok. You're ok. But what about-

Kraglin makes a comment to Yondu about something said on screen. You don't hear him. You only hear the sirens. God, why won't they stop? Screeching. Sirens. Blinding lights. Sirens.

Yondu turns to reply to Kraglin, but sees you looking strange. He raises an eyebrow, which Kraglin notices. He follows Yondu's gaze and sees you staring into your lap, body rigid, hands balled tightly into fists. Your eyes are wide, but unseeing. Your jaw is set.

Before either of them can say a word the buzzer on the washer goes off and you seem to jolt out of it, quickly hopping up and making your way out of the room.

Yondu and Kraglin share a look. What was that about?

***

You didn't return for another episode. Instead, you decided it was a nice enough day to hang your washing on the line. It hardly took you any time at all to finish, but you decide to stay outside for a bit anyways. Fresh air and all that.

Everything was fine. You were ok.

When you finally come back in it's well after a suitable lunchtime, and realizing that the only thing you had today was a granola bar, you decide to cut up an apple and sit at the table, scrolling on your phone as you eat.

Yondu comes into the kitchen for a drink and joins you at the table. "Where'd you go runnin' off to?" he asks, "Decide you didn't like the show?" What he really wanted to ask was what had prompted that look in your eyes earlier, but he knew better than to just come out an ask. You'd just deny anything had happened.

"Had laundry to dry," you answer, not looking up from your phone.

"Ya were gone an awful long time for laundry." Yondu said, not missing that you completely ignored his question about the show. But the question still bugged him. He recognized the look in your eyes back then. He remembered sometimes catching it in the eyes of some of the older battle slaves in the barracks when he was younger. It was the look one had when they were flashing back to something horrific they had been through. He and the other younger battle slaves were always told by other elders to leave those be when they were "stuck in it", as they would say. Don't disturb them. They'll come out of it. Nothing for it but to let it pass.

That never did sit right with him.

"It's a nice day. Thought I'd enjoy it," you answered.

Yondu hummed shortly. You weren't giving him anything, and he knew you wouldn't.

He decided not to press it for now, but he could tell something had triggered that response from you, he just didn't know what. He suspected it had something to do with whatever it was that you kept locked away inside. He had clues and suspicions as to what, but of course he couldn't be sure, though he was more determined now than he had previously been to figure you out. Only one thing was certain. You had pain inside you. A lot of it. No one should have to go through that alone.

***

Kraglin, unlike Yondu, wasn't nearly as subtle when he saw you next. However, he wouldn't get any further.

"Mind if I help?" he asked, joining you in the garden where you were pulling a few weeds.

"Go for it," you reply, barely looking up. There weren't many to pull, as it was starting to get cooler lately. You mostly just came out for something to do. Soon it'd be time to harvest the whole garden.

The two of you work in silence for a bit. Then, Kraglin asks, "So, um, was you alright earlier? I mean, saw that ya looked mighty shaken when we was watching that show."

"Don't know what you're talking about," you answer, standing up and tossing the weeds you picked over to the compost bucket.

Kraglin looked up to meet your gaze, frowning. He was about to say something along the lines that you were full of shit, but he stopped himself when he saw your stern expression. You weren't just denying it. With just those few words, combined with the subtly hard look on your face, you were outright telling him that he didn't see whatever it was that he thought he saw.

He exhaled out his nose and just gave you a look that said that he didn't believe you, but he wouldn't push it. He could see that you would just shut him out, and he felt like it wasn't his place to press it.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, breaking the awkward silence and causing you both to jump.

You sigh, not appreciating the jolt, and said, "Damn hunters."

Kraglin nodded and tried to take this distraction as an opportunity to change the subject. If you wouldn't open up, maybe he could try and make you smile instead. "So... nice job on dyeing Pete blue last night. Real funny."

"I certainly thought so," you said.

He almost thought he saw you crack a smile. Wanting to bring about a full grin he decided to tell a story. "Yeah, it was just like this time Pete rigged a dye pack up in one of Yondu's drawers, I think he mentioned it last night. Anyway, so somehow Pete rigs it up, I think he got mad at Cap'n for making him scrub the grease traps or somethin', but anyway then Yondu goes to open his drawer one mornin,' yeah? And he's blasted in the face with this red dye. Ohhh boy! He was madder than a muzzled Flerken!!"

The mental image was enough to make your lips curl up involuntarily.

Kraglin noted this and continued, "What's worse is he had to meet with some lady client the next day about a job, and he couldn't get it off. He was this funny shade of purple for over a week!"

A short laugh suddenly breaks through your throat and you look at him. "Really?" you ask, mirth in your eyes. The mental image of the blue man looking quite cross and splattered purple while trying to commit space pirate business dealings was a humorous one.

"Yeah. He grounded Pete for so long after that." Kraglin replied, chuckling.

"I'll bet," you say as you stand up and brush yourself off, now finished with weeding and prepared to go inside. "Thanks. For helping in the garden, I mean." you say.

Kraglin also stands. "Not a problem, ma'am."

You wince and shake you head as you turn back to the house. You thought of telling him to knock it off with the 'ma'am' stuff, but you were concerned with what might replace it. So you left it alone for now.

***

You were on alert when you got ready for your shower that evening. You knew Peter had plenty of opportunity to have tampered with your bath products, but you played it cool. Acted unaware.

The plan? Beat him at his own game.

First you turned on the shower and let it run. You cupped your hands beneath the stream to make sure the water wasn't an odd color.

All clear.

You get into the shower, deciding to inspect your shampoo and conditioner bottles first. You felt it was unlikely he'd put it in those, as it would be unlikely to have a decent enough payoff for him, but you still checked just in case. Your shampoo bottle was see-through and the liquid inside clear, so it was obvious it had gone untampered. You went ahead and used it.

Time for conditioner. Unscrewing the top you look inside the conditioner. Completely white. Untampered. Good.

Finally you checked your body wash. It was a rose scented type and was already colored pink. If he was was going to strike anywhere, it would likely be there with the red dye. You squirted a little into a rag to test it on your hip, an inconspicuous area. You didn't even need to use it before you realized you were right. The body wash came out much darker than usual. It was like he hadn't even mixed it. Actually, that's likely exactly what he did. He probably wanted to make sure as much dye got on you as possible and so just squirted it right on top. Just out of curiosity, however, you still tested it.

Yep. It left a red steak right on your hip. You catch a glance at Peter's bottle on the shower shelf, and grin.

Silly Peter. He shouldn't have forgotten his bottle in the shower. Again.

You reach out of the shower for a new washcloth, and use some of his body wash instead. Of course, not before testing it on the first rag to make sure it wasn't left behind on purpose as a trap. It wasn't. The test proved it free of dye and safe to use.

For now.

Once you finished washing you then unscrewed the top off of Peter's bottle and carefully poured in as much of the dye from the top of your tampered bottle as you could without getting it on your hands. You had to sacrifice a little of the soap down the drain just to make sure it would come out clean the next time you used it.

Was he sure to notice? Probably, but you didn't care. You'd be just as happy with the message it would deliver if nothing else.

He was going to see that you were the Prank Master here.

***

Once finished with your shower you retreated to your bedroom. On the way you could hear Peter in his room asking Gamora if she had seen his comb, and you grinned. You sure knew where his comb was.

Mantis is gathering her own stuff together to take a shower when you enter the room. You glance at what she's carrying to make sure she has enough soap. God forbid she might run out and then use Peter's instead of yours. You actually would feel bad if the prank accidentally hit her instead of Peter. Satisfied that she does you shut your door behind her and wait, unable to keep a grin from splitting your face.

Perhaps half an hour later, a good bit after Mantis had returned from her shower, you can hear Peter shouting.

"Are you KIDDING me!?"

Mantis looks towards the sound in shock before turning to see you covering your giggles with your hand.

Now you can hear Peter cursing your name.

"What did you do?" Mantis asks, both intrigued and alarmed.

"He tried to get me back for turning him blue by putting red dye in my soap. I found out and turned it back on him," you answered, nearly stuttering over your giggles.

"How?"

"I just poured the tainted soap into his bottle. Now he'll have been dyed twice." You grinned, but it fell shortly when you heard the bathroom door slam open and heard his footsteps coming in the direction of your room. You jumped up and quickly flicked the lock just before he reached the door.

The knob jiggled and then he started to pound on the door, cursing your name and demanding you come out.

Feeling cheeky, you answered, "Nobody's home!"

From the other side Peter said loudly, "Come out here, you coward!"

"Do you need something?" you ask, your grin wide.

"You. Out here. Now."

"Whatever for?" You're have a real hard time biting back your laughter. Mantis is sitting on her bed, hugging her bear and openly giggling.

"You know exactly what for!"

You look to Mantis. "Should I?" you chuckle.

"YES! You should!" answered Peter from the other side of the door.

"Didn't ask you!" you retort. You look back to Mantis and she nods excitedly. She wanted to see what had happened to Peter.

"Alright," you answer, loud enough for Peter to hear as well. You unlock the door and slowly open it.

You tried to hold it in. Honestly, you did. But the sight of Peter standing there in his pajama bottoms, and now purple where he had previously been blue, and a pinkish-red just about everywhere else you could see, you lost it.

Your laughter, combined with seeing that you didn't have a spec of dye on you, made Peter cry out in frustration. "HOW?!"

"It-It's your fault," you laughed. "You left a trail!"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "I did not leave a trail!"

"You did! I-I saw you had taken the rest of the dye and I knew what you'd do with it. Dude, you- you really should have left the box behind. I might not have noticed then." It was all you could do to say the sentence coherently as you tried to hold back your giggles. "How did you not notice I turned it around and poured it back in your bottle? Don't you look??"

As Peter sputtered indignantly for a reply you noticed that you again had an audience. Yondu and Kraglin stood at the bottom of the stairs, grinning up at the scene and shaking their heads. Rocket and Drax were standing by their room, Drax chuckling with a giggling Groot on his shoulder and Rocket almost looking impressed. Almost. Gamora was standing across the landing, shaking her head, though it appeared more out of second-hand embarrassment for Peter rather than disdain for you.

"Don't I- You- I'm- UGH!" Peter sputtered in frustration. He had half a mind to tickle you until you peed your pants for this- Well, not literally, though he wouldn't be above threatening it. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't 100% a dick. Regardless, the other half of his brain was too busy trying to think of any suitable comeback... and failing. He was The Prank Master! How were you beating him at his game? He glared at you. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. "You think you're so funny, don't you?! Just wait. You better watch your back. I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"You're not going to do anything, Peter." It was Gamora who spoke now, her tone teetering somewhere between warning and exhaustion, with a hint of amusement buried somewhere in there. "She beat you at your own game. Go to bed."

You couldn't stop the grin that split your face if your life depended on it. You took a calculated step back, hand resting on your door. You put on your most innocent voice. "So..." you started. "Does this mean I'm The Prank Master, now?"

The look in Peter's eyes could have vaporized you. "That's it!" he cried, stepping towards you. He wasn't sure what he'd do when he got hold of you. Hold you in a headlock until you apologized? Wet Willie? Both? Neither? Didn't matter. All he knew was you were going to pay for this.

However, he'd never get the chance. You were too fast, slamming the door in his face and flicking the lock just before he could get near.

You and Mantis doubled over laughing and Peter sputtered some more empty threats before Gamora could be heard scolding him and telling him to go to bed.

It was even better the second time.

***

The next morning you were, dare you say, cheerful.

Peter, less so. He was still a bit cranky that not only had he been the victim of the dye prank twice, just one night after the first, but that it had happened because he tried to get you back and you turned the tables on him. Sure, he had cooled down a bit from last night, but he was still an uneven purple/pinkish-red mess and the others kept snickering at him. Even Gamora had been caught hiding a grin behind her hand a couple of times.

It wasn't fair. He was determined to get you back, but how would-

He spotted something on the kitchen table, interrupting his thoughts. Something shiny, and green, and was that...?

Oh you were going to get it.

***

You were minding your own business, walking over to one of the bookcases in the sitting room, when suddenly you were accosted.

Peter had pulled you into a headlock from behind.

"Hey! What the hell! Let me go!" you demanded.

"Tell me you're sorry and I'll think about it!"

You had a feeling what this was about, but you played dumb. "I'm not going to apologize for turning the tables back around on you! It was your own fault for trying."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

You started softly laughing despite the moderate chokehold. You couldn't help it. "Did you- Did you ever find your comb?"

Suddenly you feel something wet in your ear. You knew there was only one thing it could be. "Ew! No! Peter!" you squeal, trying to squirm away. "That's disgusting! Stop it!"

Peter was chuckling now, still giving you a wet willie. "Say you're sorry!"

You jerk against him. "Never!" You were laughing despite really only having one hand to fight him with. The limited range on your brace made it so you couldn't bend your elbow enough to grab his arm with that hand, and you were standing too close to the bookcase to throw him over you and get out of the headlock. Well, too close to do it without hurting him, or your books, that is. You were stuck, but you still weren't going to give in.

Turns out you wouldn't need to.

"Alright. Break it up," came Yondu's voice from somewhere off to the side. "What's going on here?"

Peter released you and you rubbed your ear against your shoulder to get the wet feeling out of it. "She put my stuff in Jello!" he complained.

Yondu gave you a weird, albeit amused look. "Don't ya think ya did enough to him already, missy?" He wasn't scolding you, but he actually was surprised you were still on the attack after having seemingly won the war last night.

Fighting a grin you reply, "In my defense, I'd already done that before the dye thing. I only found out he was planning that afterwards," Technically not the full truth- you actually found out during the setup of the jelly prank, not after, but it was close enough, "and what was I supposed to do, not turn the tables back on him when I found out?"

Peter punches you in the shoulder, but there was no anger behind it, just cheekiness. You stick your tongue out at like a child in retaliation.

Yondu grinned and shook his head. It'd been awhile since he'd seen his boy carefree and goofing off like this, even if he was bickering with you like the two of you were kids. Still, he should maybe try to persuade a stop to the prank war again before things escalated any more and you two killed each other. It'd be a shame to save him from Ego just to let him die in a prank war of all things, and bad form to let him kill their host. "Boy, I think ya might need to accept that she won this round." he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I will do no such thing! She just got lucky." Peter replied.

You smirked. "Yeah. Sure. 'Lucky'," you taunt. "Just say it and I'll call us even."

"EVEN?!" Peter exclaimed. He gestured to the stained purple and pinkish red of the areas of skin you could see. "Look at me!"

Trying not to smile you slowly look down to the brace on your arm. Head cocked to the side your eyes look back to Peter. "You were saying?"

Peter bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. You could tell he wanted to retort with something, but he knew he had no leg to stand on. Eventually he settled for, "I'm still not saying it."

Yondu snorted a laugh. "Whatever it is, just be a man and say it, boy. Quit while yer ahead."

Peter looked at him indignantly. "I am not going to declare her The Prank Master."

Unable to suppress your grin any longer you nudge him in the shoulder and say in your sweetest voice, "It's ok, you don't have to say it," taking a few steps away you add, "We already know." You then jogged out of the way when he made a grab for you.

You made your way out the front door, but he didn't follow, instead just stood there pouting.

"Ya finally gonna give it up, boy? Take yer loss like a man?" Yondu chuckled, teasingly.

"Never." Peter responded, too busy plotting revenge to fully catch the "take it like a man" part as he walked out of the room.

Yondu chuckled and rolled his eyes as he went to take a seat on the sofa. It was nice to see that you had a goofy side, though he wondered if it was Peter rubbing off on you, or if you had just had it buried under layers of stubbornness and sass.

Either way, it seemed certain that the boy was gonna have to relinquish his self-proclaimed title of "The Prank Master."

***

Over the next couple days the pranks between you and Peter had slowed down. This was likely in part because of how you made Peter realize that he couldn't complain too much about getting even for the dye prank if he considered that you were still in a brace as a result from one of his previous pranks gone wrong, but also in part because the two of you had pulled so many pranks so far you were seemingly running out of ideas.

Peter moved the furniture in your sitting room 3 inches to the left, likely to get your back for putting his comb in jelly.

You retaliated by setting up some cling film up at head height in the kitchen doorway for him to walk into and then calling him into the kitchen.

He got back at you by swapping your salt and sugar out, thereby ruining what would have been a perfectly good cup of tea.

For this high crime, you decided to get him back by scrapping out a couple Oreos and filling them with toothpaste. He was most definitely not fond of that one. Called it a crime against nature, and he may have been right, but so was what he had done to your tea.

Other than that, nothing really escalated, well apart from the oreos and tea, that is. The two of you kept making little jabs at each other and annoying one another. Really bad puns, petty insults, that sort of thing.

You did assume, however, that Peter was just biding his time, trying to think of something big that he could spring on you that might make you give up the game and declare him The Prank Master, because gods knew he wasn't going to concede.

And you'd be right.

Peter spent a decent amount of time brainstorming ideas for a really good prank, or even just a decent way to annoy you, in between all the smaller ones, but he was coming up with nothing he deemed quite good enough.

He was about to consider throwing in the towel when you inadvertently provided him with the fodder he needed.

***

It was the fourth day since the first dye prank and most of the dye on Peter had worn off by now.

You were reading on the couch, little Groot was playing with the TV and flipping through random videos on the YouTube app with Drax, and Peter and Kraglin were in the middle of a card game at the table on the other side of the room.

In what you would chalk up to a cruel twist of fate, Groot managed to find his way into a video of ambulance calls.

Rudely and immediately torn from your book by the sound, your hand shoots out for the TV remote and you mute the TV, much to the dismay of little Groot, who had found the noise fun and had been cheering the siren on. As calmly as you can despite your rapid heartbeat, you ask Drax, who was confused by your behavior, to please tell Groot to find something else to watch.

Drax looks at you strangely, but translates for Groot anyway, which again, only sounded to you like he was repeating your words verbatim due to his translator. You still didn't know that the translators didn't actually translate into Groot, but rather Groot had just picked up and could understand a bit of Galactic Standard, even if he couldn't speak it.

Groots looks slightly disappointed for a second but agrees and switches videos and you unmute the TV.

You didn't bother checking what new video he had chosen. That had been a mistake.

After the ad finished playing you were jerked back into reality from your book by the sounds of now multiple ambulance calls going at once. You mute the TV once again and say, "I'm sorry. I should have been more clear. Anything else. Anything else except for videos of that sound."

Drax, rightfully confused, asks, "Why?"

"I do not like it." is all you offer, and you don't elaborate when asked.

Peter, of course, overhears all this, and thinks he's found his new way to annoy you. He of course had no way of knowing the reason you couldn't bare the sound wasn't due to annoyance. He had no way of knowing its effect on you.

***

He tested the waters the next day after lunch.

You were washing up the dishes with Gamora when the sound of an ambulance siren makes you freeze in the middle of drying a bowl.

Gamora turns her head towards the noise and wonders aloud what it was.

Without answering you take towards the direction of the sitting room to, gently, scold Groot for playing those videos again.

Of course, when you get there, you only see Peter, who pretended to be surprised to see you.

"Turn that off," you say sharply.

"What?" Peter asked innocently.

You didn't ask him again. You just grabbed the control and exited the video before throwing the control back down into his lap. "Don't play that again," you warn.

"Why? Does it annoy you?" Peter asked with a smirk. He didn't notice your hands shaking.

Your eyes hardened. "Just don't," you say, returning to the kitchen.

Peter grinned. He was going to have fun with this.

***

Peter would play that sound three more times that afternoon, each time eliciting a more irritated response from you until you finally ripped the plug to the TV out of the wall and turn to him to angrily yell, "Stop it!"

"What?" Peter asked, chuckling in surprise at your latest response. You must really hate that noise.

"You know exactly what. I'm seriously, genuinely asking you to knock it off," you reply.

Gamora, who could tell Peter was working your last nerve and who was also becoming irritated by the repeated playing of the sirens, nudged Peter and told him he had his fun.

Peter half smirked and seemed to relent, saying simply, "Okay."

You sigh. "Thank yo-"

"After you declare me The Prank Master."

Gamora rolled her eyes and propped her head up on the hand resting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to get involved, but inches from yelling at her boyfriend that she was ending the prank war herself.

You were seething. "You're a goddamn child!" you scold, leaving the sitting room and considering getting out some of the vodka you had in the freezer just to calm your nerves.

You had only just made it into the kitchen when the sound started up again.

You back against the wall and cover your face, inches from tears. Your breaths came in shallow gasps as flashes of bright lights and the sounds of tearing metal and screaming fill your senses. You tangle your hands in your hair.

"FUCKING STOP IT!" you scream.

Peter and the others in the sitting room, as well as those upstairs, all paused in shock at the sheer volume behind your scream.

They then heard the sound of the back door slamming forcefully.

Yondu, who had been at the table playing cards with Kraglin, had only been present for the second and last incidence of Peter annoying you with the sound, and it wasn't until now that he put the pieces together. That day when you acted strange and walked out on the show- this siren sound had been playing then too.

Shit.

He got up and scolded Peter, who in his shock still hadn't turned the video back off. "Turn that shit off now, boy! If I hear it again I'm gonna shove my arrow up your ass! You hear me?"

Peter, recognizing the tone in Yondu's voice as one that he had encountered many times as a child when he was in trouble, immediately switched the video off. He had to concede that perhaps he went a little too far this time, but of course he didn't actually understand just how true that sentiment was.

Yondu went to go see where you went, and he didn't need to look very far, which surprised him. He was for sure you would have taken off for the forest again, since it was kinda your thing.

Instead, you were sat with your back pressed against the stone of the house about a couple meters from the door, hand clamped over your mouth and eyes in that terrible 'wide yet unseeing' way. In the dim light provided by what shone out the kitchen windows from inside he thought he could almost see the remnants of fallen tears.

He tried to approach you slowly, but you caught him out the corner of your eye and jerked to a standing position.

"Hey, hey-" Yondu said, holding his hands up. "It's alright-" he started, but then found he didn't know what else to say. After a moment he settled on, "Ya wanna talk about what that was about?"

You don't meet his gaze. "Nothing. He just pisses me off. He's a damn child."

"While that may be true, yer still full of shit."

You glare at him.

He continues. "If this was just about Quill gettin' under yer skin ya wouldn't be shakin' like that, and I doubt you'd be crying neither."

"Am not," you mutter. You turn away, wipe your eyes, cross your arms self-consciously, and start walking away. "It's cold."

Yondu rolled his eyes. It was cool out, yes, but it wasn't that cold. "Ya wanna talk about why ya dislike the particular noise so much?" Yondu called after you. "Ya ain't got to, but I can tell somethin's eating ya. I might help to get it off your chest."

"It's nothing." you reply. "Just an annoying sound."

Yondu frowned. "Now listen here. I ain't gonna force ya to tell me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let anyone just flat out lie to my face, missy."

You turn to him, indignant. "I'm not-"

"Hell if ya ain't. I've seen that look before, I know what it is. Ya can lie to yerself, but ya can't lie to me!"

You glare at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? Coming in here acting like you know anything about me!"

"I'm the person telling ya that it ain't healthy to keep that shit bottled up inside ya. It'll eat ya alive."

You don't respond. Just roll your eyes and start walking away again.

Yondu threw up his hands. "To hell with you then!" He starts to walk back inside but stops at the door to speak again, this time his tone a little softer, "I have a feelin' no one's ever told ya, girl, but ya don't have to 'be strong' all the time. Sometimes it's ok to let people in. It don't make ya weak." With that he headed back in the house.

You lean your back against the cool stone and sigh in frustration. What did he know.

***

You head back inside a bit later, not feeling much better.

Peter catches you as you're about to head up the stairs. "Hey, I just wanted to say sorry for-"

"Don't." You cut him off, not stoping in your path. "I don't care. I'm going to bed."

Peter frowns, but lets you go. Maybe he could try again in the morning. He truly was sorry. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun.

***

You stared up at the ceiling from your bed for what felt like hours. You couldn't sleep, couldn't stop thinking about it. You knew Peter had no way of knowing why you couldn't stand that sound, but you still couldn't help but be unhappy with him. He just wouldn't stop.

You can feel your jaw clenching with each flash of horrific memory.

You were annoyed at Yondu too. Acting like he knew anything about you or some shit. What did he know? Not you, that's what. You didn't need someone acting like they cared. You didn't need anyone, really. People come, people go. No one stays forever.

You feel your chest clench. Your throat tightens and you sit up. You didn't want to cry.

A walk. That's what you needed. A walk in the forest would surely help wash the memories away. You could walk until you were too tired to think about it, then sleep it off. It would be better in the morning. You'd be ok.

You quietly slip on some jeans and make your way downstairs to put on your boots and grab a jacket. Choosing your thin leather one because it had been chilly when you were out earlier, you open the back door and head out into the cool night air.

You'd find out soon enough that you should have stayed in bed.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Seven / Decaf

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, all of the dirty thoughts because Javi is a horndog, male masturbation... general spice. pining that could make a pine cone tremble.

A/N: welcome to pining central, enjoy your stay :) (ps when Steve says “Javier Peña” I need you to read that in the voice of Anthony Mackie going “SEBASTIAN STAN”)

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ordinary coffee that has had most of its caffeine removed from it before the beans are roasted.

You are a goddamn test on Javier’s self control. He feels like those biblical stories of men fighting back against temptation to prove themselves to God, except the only thing he has to prove is to himself. To you.

He’s always been enraptured by you, captivated by your smile and laugh but since you went ice skating, he hasn’t been able to get your body out of his mind. The way you fell asleep on him last night, nuzzled in like it was the safest place on earth. He could feel your breasts press into his skin, the warmth of your thigh hiked across his abdomen. If the past week has been some caffeine-induced fever dream, it’s becoming real now. You, a figment of his imagination before, maybe, are all flesh and blood and God, is he desperate for it.

Javier hangs around your apartment when you’re gone at work. He doesn’t have much else to do, considering you’re gone and he knows hardly anything about the city. He watches the daytime television on your couch, usually meanders to the coffee shop for a drink, spends some time there, and returns to the apartment.

He feels like he’s couch-surfing, like he did for a summer in his college years. He feels guilty occupying the space in your home, especially without payment. As he walks to the bathroom, he takes a long glance into your bedroom. The queen-sized bed is mussed, unmade before you left for work. The fitted sheet is pooled in the middle beneath where you sleep, the various blankets tossed about. It looks like the coziest damn thing he’s ever seen, especially after a couple of nights on a couch.

Javier almost thinks about giving in, waiting for you to ask him to sleep in your bed tonight then jumping at the chance. Maybe he will, if he’s tired enough. Maybe he won’t, but maybe he will. He can think of nothing better than the endless whir of the radiator as your perpetually-cold body nuzzles against him, brushes your nose against his bare chest.

It’s been a long time since Javi has fucked anyone, and he’s starting to feel it. He’s a little antsy, and the image of your body, your ass as you ice skate past him, haunts him like a bad dream- or rather some illicit fantasy he knows he shouldn’t be having.

Would you want him yet? You’ve told him you love him, but that was an accident. When he kisses you, you kiss back harder. Hell, you initiated the first kiss. You seem like you’ve been all-in on this relationship, taking things at a rushed pace that Javier certainly doesn’t mind. He spends a lot of the day contemplating that, standing on the tiny balcony of your apartment and smoking a couple of cigarettes.

At this point, he needs a distraction or he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. What better to kill the horny buzz making his head spin than to call Murphy?

The phone is in your bedroom, on the nightstand. Javier dares to sit on the edge of your bed, and actually moans aloud at the plush comfort, the way his ass sinks into it. Goddamn, he’ll have to get one of these. He wants nothing more than to lay back and fall into the bed, wait for you to get home and pound you into the comfortable mattress. But he doesn’t. He stays strong and picks up the phone, dialing the new Murphy residence in Miami.

After a couple of rings, a familiar voice answers. “Murphy’s.”

“Hey, bastard,” Javier chuckles, and he can hear the blonde man’s laughter from across the receiver.

“Javier Peña,” Steve drawls, dragging out the name. “Good to hear your voice, man. You finally come out of a ten-day celebratory drunkenness?”

“Don’t talk to me about binges,” Javier teases, but he smiles a little. He’s missed the man. He’s glad neither of them got in any trouble over the entire Los Pepes situation- God, that feels like ages ago now. It’s hard to believe he’s only been in D.C. what, eleven days? If Steve’s math is right, yeah. “No. I’m in D.C. still, if you can believe it. Just… bored.”

“Oh really?” the man scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter in Miami with Olivia on his hip. “And why’s that? What are you still doin’ up there anyway? Thought you were goin’ to visit the old man.”

Javier shakes his head. “Plans changed. There’s, uh… there’s a girl.”

Steve lets out a wolf whistle, laughing. “And how much does she charge a night?”

“Not one of those. She works at a coffee shop around here,” he informs him. “She’s… she’s really something. Nothing I ever thought I’d be into. She’s gorgeous, man, and so energetic all the damn time. Seems like she has an IV of coffee from her shop,” he chuckles, looking off into space. He takes a pause. Steve doesn’t speak. “I wanna be with her Steve. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go back.”

He’s silent a little longer. “This is some kind of practical joke, right?” Steve says after a beat, barely holding back a laugh. Never has Javier been so sincere, so real and honest and open. And more specifically, he’s never been like this over a girl. Almost… mushy. Soft. “Tell me more,” he says, hoping the joke will give up.

Javier talks about you, describing every little detail with a grin on his face. He tells Steve about Tie Guy and ice skating and your piece of shit car, how you can spin in circles on the ice and how you remind him of a busy little bee, fluttering about the coffee shop.

Steve is genuinely rendered speechless; a hard thing to do. He blinks down at Olivia then straight ahead at the refrigerator, covered in photos and magnets and drawings. He can’t imagine Javier ever wanting something like this, like what he and Connie have, but he sure sounds like it. “That’s… something. Good for you, Javi,” Steve chuckles, resigning to sincerity. “I’m happy for you.”

Javier grumbles back. “Don’t get too happy. I have to go back to Calí in three weeks. She doesn’t want me to leave… I don’t know what to do, Murph. I can’t bring her with, you know that, but I can’t just leave her here. And I sure as hell can’t quit.”

“You could quit.”

“I’m not going to, how’s that?” Javier huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed by Steve and his goddamn wording loopholes. “I just… fuck. I’m gonna go think about it before she gets back.”

“She comin’ to your hotel? You sure you aren’t paying per night?” He smirks.

Javier’s quiet and Steve isn’t sure what it means until he talks. “I’m, uh, staying at her place. She insisted.”

Steve whistles again. “Damn. You’re whipped, Peña. Well, I’ll let you go. Call again soon. I miss ya, bud,” he tells Javier in a moment of earnesty then hangs the phone back on the receiver, bringing Olivia to her nursery to change her diaper.

Javi sighs and falls backwards on the bed, admiring the way the mattress holds his body compared to the couch. Yeah, he’ll definitely need to sleep in here tonight or he’s going to crack his spine.

The issue will be you. He could handle it on the couch; it was like a soft, adolescent form of love, innocent and warm. Of course, it could still be the same in your bed. But would it? Is there not a different set of implications that come with the two of you sharing a bed?

Snuggling with you on the couch was nice. Wonderful, perfect even. Javier loves falling asleep with you in his arms. But in your bed, arms curled around him, maybe even being his little spoon… that perfect body pressed flush to his own, your soft ass against his groin, your breathing pushing back into his chest… that would be an entirely different thing. And he wants it, he really does, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He slept like shit the last night, to be honest. You on top of him prevented him from moving, and Javier is an active sleeper. His neck was at an odd angle and his back twisted. His body feels like it did after that fight with Tie Guy. He can’t- wouldn’t- invade your privacy of your bed without you home to give him the go ahead, but he’s so damn tired. Not even the coffee helps.

So Javier indulges in one of life’s little pleasures he rarely gets to experience: a nap. Curled up on his side on the couch, blankets pulled snug around his fetal-positioned body, Javier drifts off to the sound of the noon news on the television.

That’s how you find him when you come home. He’s peacefully asleep, his lips parted and mustache moving with his exhales. Well, he’s clearly alive. That’s good.

You’re not sure how long he’s been asleep, so you leave him, making yourself something to eat in the kitchen. You avoid the living room as you get settled in, changing out of your espresso-stained clothing and into something more comfortable.

When you’re all comfy, makeup removed and a warm sweater on, you sit at the other end of the couch. Javier’s curled into a ball, his feet just inches away from your legs. You hope when he moves, he’ll feel you there and wake. If not, oh well. He deserves the rest.

It’s gray and cloudy outside, and you snuggle into the corner of the couch while reading your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It’s the one you’ve been re-reading recently, what you were reading that first day Javi wandered into your coffee shop and subsequently your life.

Javi wakes not long later, maybe half an hour, to the sound of your book crinkling. The paperback’s spine crunches with wear, and his eyes flutter open to see you tucked against a pillow. God, you look like an angel, the light from the cloudy day filtering in and illuminating you from the back. Your face is calm and peaceful, focused as your eyes trace the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Hi,” Javier mumbles groggily.

Your expression turns to a smile and you set down the book. “Hey.” You take his legs and drape them across your lap, tracing your fingers across them. “How’d you sleep?”

He groans. “Okay. Neck hurts.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just sleep with me,” you sing-song to him, stroking his legs through the comfortable pants he wears. “My bed is super cozy.”

God, does Javier know it. It felt like your love itself when he laid down and the warmth of it swallowed him, practically whole. “Maybe I’ll give in,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was work? Sorry I didn’t visit.”

“Boring as always,” you chuckle. “What did you do today?”

Javi frowns as he thinks about it, his brain fogged with sleep. “Not much. Called Murphy, talked a while. He’s doing good.”

“Good,” you nod and smile. “When will I get to meet this elusive Steve?” You ask, softly kneading at his legs through the blanket and frowning as you realize he’s wearing… jeans. “Wait, pause. Are you seriously wearing jeans?” you ask him and laugh, lifting the blanket to confirm what you already suspected.

He frowns defensively, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

“Why the fuck would you take a nap in jeans, Javi?” You laugh.

Javier looks away, frowning. The stubbornness shows. “I don’t own many comfortable clothes besides what I wear to work, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts, but you can’t help but giggle. “Plus I thought I’d only be here to get fired.”

You smile at him lovingly and cup his face. “You sweet, stupid workaholic. Let’s go shopping later, get you some cozy stuff.”

Javier warms against your touch but maintains a pout. “I like jeans.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a laugh. “Would a pair of sweatpants be detrimental to your wardrobe, Javier?”

“Stop using big words,” he groans. “I’m barely awake.”

-

The large mall is annoying to Javier, full to the brim with last-minute (or maybe prepared, he never holiday-purchases) shoppers. He holds your hand, shooting feisty glares at anyone that dares to bump against his or, god forbid, your side. “Relax,” you tease and squeeze his free hand. The other carries a bag containing two hoodies, three t-shirts, and two pairs of sweatpants. “You’re not on a mission, and you certainly don’t have the knuckles to pitch another fight.”

He looks at his hands and scowls. You’re right. They’re no longer black and blue but faded yellows and greens, a spare bit of purple over the bones. The fight wasn’t that long ago, really, even though it feels like an eternity.

You drag Javier into a favorite shop of yours. He follows you around like a lost puppy while you search through clothes. He even hands you one or two tops he thinks you’d look nice in. You kiss him on the cheek and he dares to smile for a moment before returning to his stone-faced annoyance at such a packed area.

The dressing rooms are nicer, much more spaced out and offering places to rest. Javier sits in a chair across from your little cubby as you try things on. Every time you find something, you come out and model it for him. He comments, always positively, gives a little applause and smiles at the twirl you give in the big trifold mirror.

There’s one pair of leggings that hug your ass tight. Javier nearly salivates at them. “I like those,” he comments. “They look comfortable.” The same follows with a pair of jeans, even more flattering. He crosses his legs and nods, giving you similar comments.

Then come the dresses and tops. They’re all low-cut, not the wintery clothing Javier’s always seen you in. They show off your cleavage, and one scarlet colored blouse with a low neckline and fluffy sleeves makes Javier’s eyes simultaneously light up and darken. “How’s this one?” You ask, tugging at the sleeves.

“How much is it?” He asks, leaning back and looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Uh…” you tell him the cost and look back up at him, expecting a comment. “Why?”

“I’m buying that for you myself,” he smirks up at you, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin feel intensely hot. The sight is stunning to him, and your flustered smile makes the smirk a little more devilish.

Javier does end up buying you the shirt, and you purchase a few other things you liked. But that scarlet shirt is stuck on Javier’s mind in replay: the subtle valley between your tits, how they filled out the shirt just perfectly and tugged at the cloth covering them, the way they look painfully soft to the touch, especially through that soft fabric. He wonders if you were wearing a bra under it. Then he has to stop himself.

You eat dinner late, chatting mindlessly over everything and nothing. Javier has no work to speak of now, so he tells you tall tales of the hunt for Escobar, some exaggerated and some underplayed. He mainly listens to you, asks about your past and your future, your family and your job. He could never tire of your voice, the soothing lull that warms him from the inside out, just like your skin flushed in that goddamn red top.

He drives the both of you home, humming softly to the songs on the radio. He’s beginning to recognize more and more of the top-40 hits on a certain preset station, songs he’d never listen to on his own. He glances over at you, gazing out of the window, and feels his body warm again- not just in his heart, but his stomach and lower too. He dares to steal a glance down, at the soft swell of your tits in that sweater. God, he wants to get you naked.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what you want and he’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to shatter this blissful phase of adoration without the sexual attraction. He wonders if you feel it too, if your clothes suddenly feel too restricting and too warm when you run a hand down his bare back.

The nightly routine ensues: you shower. Javier changes, this time into a new hoodie but leaves his legs bare, wearing only boxers on the bottom. He waits on the couch, and when you exit the bathroom, he takes his turn. He returns and sits next to you on the couch.

Tonight, when you ask him to share your bed with you, he doesn’t say no. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything, just yawns softly and stands, taking your hand.

It’s a sacred space, your bed. Javier knows it. He rarely fucks women in his; whether it’s for his own privacy or fear they’ll fall asleep there, he can’t say. But your bed is such an intimate expression of you, and he can see it. He can see the divot in the mattress where you sleep, the way you arrange the pillows just right for your own head. It is a queen size, but it’s single-occupancy: until now, that is, and Javier feels honored you’re willing to share this holiness with him.

He gets into the bed on the other side of you, the warm blankets enveloping him, and he nearly lets out a moan at the comfort. Compared to the hotel bed and the couch, this is sleeping on a literal cloud from the heavens. He lies still, waiting to see what you do first. Not wanting to overstep anything.

His prayers are answered when you snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest, kissing his sternum through the soft material of the hoodie. A hand rests on the other side of your face, and your legs both encircle one of his. Javier smiles, wrapping an arm around you. He presses a kiss into your hair and murmurs a goodnight, letting his head fall back. He has no time to worry about this situation before he falls asleep.

He falls asleep almost immediately, which makes you chuckle through your half-conscious state. He seems to always radiate heat, Javier. Your layers of blankets upon blankets suddenly feel unnecessary when a heat source the strength of the summer sun fills your bed. His chest is strong and firm beneath you. The rise and fall of his chest is like a boat rocking on the ocean, putting you at ease and allowing you to rest.

-

Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do this?

The clock reads 1:48 and Javier is wide awake, staring at your popcorn-stucco-whatever the fuck it is ceiling. He wasn’t able to process this before sleep overtook him, before his consciousness was wiped and with it, his inhibitions.

Your body is pressed to his so perfectly. You sleep without a bra, and Javier can feel his arm being slightly sandwiched between your breasts, the way they press further into it every time you inhale. Your thighs are warm with sleep, and he can feel your core pressed against his hip, even while you sleep and even through the layers of clothing.

Javier feels like the embodiment of slime. You’re asleep and all he can think about is how fucking hot your body is, how much he wants to press you into this mattress and wake you with an orgasm. He wants to palm your tits and make your nipples harden through that flimsy shirt, to slide his fingers beneath your pajama bottoms and-

He can’t take it. He feels so wrong, the smell of you surrounding him and choking him like a thick perfume, even in its subtlety. He does not deserve to sleep next to you, innocently, like someone you love, when all he can think about is his own carnal desires.

Pushing back the covers, Javier gets out of bed before any more blood can flow to his slowly hardening dick. This is all wrong. He should not be doing this, thinking these things without knowing you feel the same.

But the guilt is as strong as his arousal. He watches you for a moment, torn between his options, before meandering through the darkened bedroom and finding his way into the bathroom. He turns on the bright lights and forces himself to stare at the bulbs, to make his pupils shrink from their blown state of sleep mixed with desperation. He’s fully awake now.

He needs to get the hardened length down. He can’t do this, can’t allow himself this suffering while you sleep in the next room.

The sink. Cold water. He gasps silently at the splash of the ice-cold water against his face, dampening the edges of his hoodie. It doesn’t work enough. Again. Nothing. He feels like a teenager, unable to control himself. The cold water is a good idea, though.

Javier strips down, trying to avoid the urge to take himself in hand and fix this here and now. Turning the water as cold as it can go, Javier turns on the shower and steps in.

Agony is the best term he has. It makes him want to squeal like a fucking pig as he shudders from the cold. It doesn’t work to force his erection down, but what use is it when it’s not something physical but mental stimulating him? The cold shock didn’t do shit. Javier’s still achingly hard. He turns the water warmer and sighs as it gradually turns to a tolerable temperature, one that he can relax under and allow himself to let out a deep sigh.

He has no other options, unless he wants to wait it out. Leaning against the wall, Javier strokes himself, biting his lip and hoping the water pressure will cancel any soft moans he can’t avoid. It doesn’t take long when he’s this aroused, when he knows exactly what the fantasy in his head would feel like.

Javier is panting and sweating, from the effort and the growing heat of the water. He feels disgusting but it feels so good, and he can’t help imagining you doing this to him, you spreading your legs and feeding the fire between his own.

It only takes a few minutes. He gasps as he cums, with a force he’s never brought forth with his own hand. He bites his lip so hard he’s sure he might cut it off, not allowing the desperate sounds to reach a level you could hear. When he’s done, he groans and cracks his neck. “Oh, little bee,” he whispers, agonized as he lets the water wash the evidence of his sins down the drain.

When he’s done, Javier walks into your bedroom, silently, in the dark. His previous boxers were stained with a patch of his precum; he can’t put those back on. He drops the towel and puts on different boxers.

After he’s changed, he looks at your bed longingly for a moment. The soft sheets, soft mattress, the soft body between them. But in Javier’s head, he’s forsaken his right to the warmth, the comfort.

When you wake in the morning, hours after you thought you heard the shower running, you find Javier is not in your bed. There isn’t even a warm spot where he lay, just your body shifted further from your normal sleeping position. When you wander out to make your morning coffee, you find him. He spent the night on the couch again.

-

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[graniairish]

Walking on Eggshells – Part 3

so here is the 3rd part. maybe some more will follow ...

Part one Part two

Daryl had woken up before dawn. He had always been an early riser and, like you, always one of the first to greet the new day.

You yourself were only half asleep. Immediately you noticed when he began to move as he slowly left the dream world.

With his right arm still around you, he pulled you tight. At some point during the night you had turned your back to him and now he was spooning you from behind.

In his arms you always felt so safe and secure, as if nothing could happen to you in these moments.

"Mornin'", you heard his deep voice, which was still very rough from sleep.

"Good Morning."

Daryl snuggled up close to you and you had to laugh lightly, because his stubble tickled your neck when he kissed you there - still sleepy.

Only you knew this side of him. For everyone out there he was the fearless redneck who hardly spoke more than two sentences to anyone; the loner who should not be messed with.

Only you knew the gentle and loving man who kept looking for your physical closeness; the passionate lover who never seemed to get enough of you.

"Have any plans for today?"

"I'll take care of the chicken coop with Jake and Josh."

"Jake and Josh," Daryl asked confused.

He raised his head and looked at you questioningly.

"Yes. The two have experience in construction. I already spoke to them yesterday."

"Who are Jake and Josh?"

“They're from Woodbury. You know them."

"Don't know who ya're talkin’ about," Daryl said, still trying to remember them.

“Jake and Josh, the two brothers. Big, black hair, tattoos on the upper arms …"

"The two who look like bouncers?"

“Yes, exactly this two. Together we will try to build a beautiful new home for our chickens."

"If ya want."

With these words, Daryl pressed a longing kiss on your shoulder before he broke away from you and slowly left the bed.

You first stretched yourself with relish before you turned around and watched your boyfriend get dressed. A warm feeling spread in your body at the thought that this man was your man, that this man wanted to be your man. You were so incredibly happy. You would never trade Daryl for anything or anyone in the world.

When he approached you and leaned over - his hands propped up on the left and right of your head - you were still lying in bed dreaming.

He had to go, after all, his shift on the Guard Tower soon began.

"See ya in the fields then", he said with a smirk.

“Unfortunately, you have to do without me today. Rick and I want to look for a location for our chicken coop first thing today."

"Ya're breakin’ my heart," he whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, longingly and so full of love.

"I'm sure you will survive," you smirked.

---------------------------------------------

Contrary to your usual practice, you had helped Carol prepare breakfast that morning while you waited for Rick. Typically, you would always start your days in the gardens to get much of the work done before the sun got too stinging and made the job difficult.

But today you were only there for a short time, had brought the chickens there for the time being. You wanted them to take care of the pests that are currently making life difficult for your plants - hopeful that they would not attack the freshly set lettuce plants.

It was unusual for the residents of the prison to be woken up so early in the morning by the screams of their newest roommate. It was not to be underestimated how loud this little feathered guy could be. The young rooster, however, was not deterred by the confused looks and kept crowing while he watched his girls who happily scratched the ground.

People would get used to it sooner or later, you were sure of that. Apart from the fact that the poultry's permanent residence in your community was not up for discussion anyway.

These animals would ensure your survival and were essential to building a secure future. And your hope was anyway that it would not be the only livestock that would populate your little farm in the future.

Even if some ex-Woodbury residents were not exactly happy about their boisterous and loud alarm clock. First and foremost Michelle, who made a rather pinched impression when she showed up in the canteen that morning.

She had avoided you since the incident during your run. You were actually very happy about it, only the look with which she was looking at you gave an idea of how much she displeased you.

But you did not have time to think about it that day, after all, a big construction project was waiting for you, and by the time you and Rick went to inspect the site, you had long since forgotten about the blonde woman.

-------------------------------------------

If there was one thing that was not lacking in the Prisons office complex, it was pens and paper. Whoever took care of the administration here before the apocalypse broke out was a real hamster.

So it was easy for you to organize the necessary material to start drawing the plans right away. After all, organizing such a building project was easier with a blueprint than without one.

The place was chosen, now all that was missing was the plan and the necessary building materials.

The plan was your responsibility, and the men would get the necessary building materials.

Rick, Jake and Josh were already gathering everything necessary to start construction as quickly as possible.

You approached the matter with a lot of patience, trying not to forget anything that could be important, while line by line you put your new chicken coop on the paper. There was a lot to think about.

The stable had to be built on stilts so that the ground did not start to rot at some point if it was constantly standing in the damp earth, and still be stable. Inside there had to be enough space for cleared nests and perches, and the stable had to be easy to clean, after all, it had to be mucked out regularly.

Concentrated you sat over the plans and tried to consider everything, that you had lost all sense of time.

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

You were just thinking about a possible extension - should the chicken population grow faster than you thought - and had not noticed that Daryl had approached.

"Believe it or not ..." you began absently, but you did not get very far.

"But yar mother taught ya how to build a chicken coop when ya were a child," said Daryl with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Smart ass!” You said curtly, without even looking up from your work.

But then suddenly you stopped. Thoughtfully, you looked up at your boyfriend and thought for a moment.

"Was that just a déjà vu?"

You looked questioningly at Daryl, who was still standing next to you, grinning. By now he had leaned over your blueprint, resting his left arm on the table while he placed his other arm lovingly between your shoulder blades.

"No seriously. Who taught ya that. Looks really professional."

Silently you looked at the drawing in front of you again. A painful tightness spread in your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe. You had not thought of him in a long time, you hardly had time to longingly mourn the past.

But here and now the grief suddenly and unprepared attacked you.

"Jeff," you whispered with a sad smile.

"Your brother?"

"Yes," you nodded.

Slowly your gaze changed, was no longer thoughtful and dreamy, and Daryl noticed that you were getting sadder from moment to moment. He knew about your brother, after all, you had mentioned him repeatedly before.

Everyone had those times when they thought of loved ones who they probably would never see again.

Back at Hershel's farm one night you had told Daryl about Jeff and how close you had been as children. And with tears in your eyes you had talked about what had probably happened to him when the dead began to walk over this world.

If he had known in which direction this conversation was going, he would never have started it.

“As children we always built tree houses,” you finally began, still smiling sadly, “once we even tried a trapper's hut. After all, it survived a winter. He was great at that; then he even studied architecture. Did I tell you that? Immediately after graduating, he took a job in Denver, where he met his great love. And then the offer came from New York. He and Valerie had only just moved when ... "

You had to take a shivering breath. Since the beginning of this apocalypse, you had not heard from him. And the likelihood that he was still alive was almost zero.

"’m sorry … shouldn't have asked."

It hurt Daryl to watch as you tried to bravely swallow your tears. He had not intended to reopen the wound the loss of your family had left. During your story, he sat down next to you on the bench and was now lovingly stroking your back.

"You do not have to be sorry. It's nice to think of him again. Even when it hurts."

"Don't think he would have loved me that much," Daryl laughed bitterly.

“Oh believe me, Daryl, he would have liked you,” you said with a smile, before you couldn't help but grin, “at least before you tried to get into his little sister's panties. Then he would probably have fed you to the next best walker."

"Would have been worth the risk”, Daryl whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on your temple.

You looked lovingly at the man next to you. You were so grateful to have him by your side. He was your little island of bliss in this sea of horror. Even the painful memory of your brother only hurt half as much when he was with you.

"How is the planning for the new home of our chickens going?" Asked Carol as he sat down at your table with Judith.

"Quite well. The only question that remains is whether we want to make it winterproof or do we want to take the chickens into our buildings in winter. We currently have enough space."

You instantly found your coolness again; were calm and collected like nothing had happened.

Since so many people joined your community, you tried to keep your feelings to yourself more. And with a few exceptions, there was only one person inside the prison fences who also knew your vulnerable side. Who knew every aspect of your personality, every dark abyss of your soul, and loved every single one of it.

Daryl.

"I don't have a lot of experience with it," admitted Carol, "but I suppose these animals are not very frost-proof."

“Not really,” you smiled, “so we should give them nice winter quarters within the walls. Just to be sure."

"But one with enough space, hopefully we'll soon have a lot of chicks," Daryl said mischievously.

"So I don't need to add scrambled eggs to the menu anytime soon," said Carol with a shrug.

"Not for the time being. Sorry."

------------------------------------------

Daryl was leaning on a shovel at the construction site of the new chicken coop. He had just dug the last hole in the ground, in which one of the wooden posts would soon find its place – to form the basic structure of this building.

With a certain amount of pride, he watched you take on the construction supervision of this project with seemingly effortless ease. You organized the individual construction phases cleverly and nimbly, so that even experienced construction workers like Jake and Josh could be guided by you.

You were ready to listen to every single suggestion and weigh the pros and cons without losing sight of the goal.

Daryl was fascinated by this new facet about you, he had never noticed it before.

Here and now you seemed like a born leader. You could guide and be helpful, but at the same time you could be strict and get your way through when it was necessary. You also knew how to handle hammer and nails, how to perfectly level a construction site - and you were absolutely not afraid to lend a hand yourself.

It was obvious that this was not your first construction project to be implemented. Every single one of your movements was safe and you did not hesitate for a moment if help was needed anywhere.

Little by little, on that day, a chicken coop was actually built on the now leveled lawn, with four walls, a roof and a small access bridge for the little animals, whose coop stood on almost 15-inch-high stilts.

Inside you had perches installed and separate niches in which hopefully the next generation would soon be hatched.

"And now," Rick finally wanted to know as he stood next to you, exhausted.

"Now we need some straw so that the girls can make themselves really comfortable in there. And then they can actually move in."

"I'll get the straw," said Daryl, turning around and going on to tackle the easier part of the move.

He knew only too well how difficult it was to catch these damned beasts, and now he was not going to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"Then I'll probably take care of the poultry," sighed Rick.

"Do you need help," you asked with a knowing smile.

"No, I think I can handle that."

"If you think so."

Less than five minutes later, you were hunched over with laughter. It was so funny watching Rick as he tried to catch the chickens. Two Woodbury residents wanted to help him but had even less chance of getting within three feet of the poultry.

It was an incredibly funny spectacle, especially when Rick was lying on his stomach in the dirt at some point, and one of the chickens quickly jumped over his back to finally - with a loud cackling - run away.

"Do you think they need help," said Maggie, who meanwhile had to wipe away her tears from laughing.

"If we want to bring the chickens into the barn today, then we have to," you laughed, "but I haven't had such a good time for a long time."

For two more minutes you and your best friend watched the show in front of you, until you finally felt sorry and stepped in to help.

Still giggling, you shook your head, took the bowl with the grains that you used as chicken feed and walked slowly towards the frightened creatures, while Maggie slowly approached from the other side to get any outliers back on the right track.

You shook the bowl in your hand noisily as you walked through the gardens.

"Tuck tuck tuck," you started calling the chickens while you kept shaking the bowl.

It was not long before the animals began to watch you curiously. When they finally approached you - hoping perhaps to get some food - you made your way back to the chicken coop; without stopping to attract the poultry further.

Maggie followed a few yards away to make sure none of the chickens disappeared.

Finally, you stopped in front of the open stall door and sprinkled feed in the stall and on the step bridge for the chickens.

It took less than five minutes and all the animals, including the rooster, were safely stowed in the hen house, ready for the first night in their new home.

"Couldn't you have done that right from the start," said Rick, a little annoyed, as he brushed the dust off his clothes.

The embarrassed grin on his face betrayed that he was not angry at all, but rather was busy trying to keep himself from laughing at himself.

"If we had," replied Maggie, "that would have been only half as fun."

"Yea, Haha, it was so funny." Rick said sarcastically.

“Oh yes, believe me Rick, it was. It definitely was."

“For the future, Rick; ya should never mess with farmer-girls”, grinned Daryl, who of course did not miss the whole spectacle.

------------------------------------------

It was late, just after sunset. You had made yourself comfortable on your bed and were absorbed in that old western novel that you had found in the library of the prison. You had been a veritable bookworm even before the Apocalypse, and now that there was another opportunity to indulge in this hobby, nothing and no one could stop you.

In the soft glow of the kerosene lamp your eyes wandered over the lines on the already slightly yellowed pages, while blissful silence enveloped you. Your day had been busy, and your muscles felt sore after the unfamiliar work.

You would spend the first half of the night alone today. Daryl had taken Rick's shift at the Guard Tower after Judith was weep today and just did not want to let her father go. Apart from the fact that Rick had been more than exhausted after today's chicken adventure.

But Daryl was happy to take over his shift immediately. He just had a weakness for this lil asskicker - as he affectionately called her. One day this stubborn redneck would become a wonderful father. You had known that for a long time, even if he still doubted it.

> KNOCK KNOCK <

"Yes," you looked up from your book, confused.

Actually, you didn't expect any more visitors. The door opened slowly, and Maggie stuck her head through the gap with a smile.

"Hey Y/N/N, am I bothering you?"

“No, not really. Why?"

"Where's Daryl?"

"Guard Tower. He's taken on Rick's shift."

"How long will he be gone?"

“His shift has just started. Why are you asking Maggie?"

"So we have time for a girls-night!"

"Think so?"

"Perfect, I also brought gifts."

Hardly a moment later the young woman was on your bed with you, her legs crossed, while she grinned mischievously at you. It took a few moments before you noticed the cloth sack in her hand.

"Please tell me that you don't plan to take out your nail polish and make-up now. I don't think I'm in the mood for it."

“No, don't get silly. No nail polish, no make-up, and we're not going to do each other's hair. This is going to be more of a grown-up version of a girls-night. "

"Okay Maggie, just for the record, you scare me."

Jokingly, she gave you a clap on the shoulder before opening the sack in her lap and looking inside happily.

"Well, first of all, something that every woman can use nowadays."

And with that she got a cardboard box about 4x2 inches out of the sack.

"May the days be less of a problem during the days," said Maggie, handing you the box.

Confused, you looked at the thing in your hand. It looked almost new and the writing was easy to read.

When you finally understood what you were holding in your hand, you looked in amazement at the woman in front of you.

“This is a lady cup. Where did you find that?"

You could hardly hide your astonishment. You had not seen anything like this in years, and not only once did you wish you had not left yours at home.

“This Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove. Not just in terms of the preserving jars. "

“So that,” you held up the little box, “will make all this menstrual shit a lot easier during an apocalypse. Slowly the tampons became really scarce. And I was so afraid that sooner or later I would have to do the thing with free bleeding too. However, I don't think I would be able to do that with my daily routine."

"You can say that again. Mine is already safely tucked away in my cell."

“It's interesting how the priorities change when the world suddenly ends,” you philosophized while looking at the little box in your hand from all sides.

"You're right."

"I think if the world weren't so close to the edge, I wouldn't be where I am now," you said thoughtfully.

"Are you talking about Daryl and you?"

"No … yes … somehow ... yes. Daryl and I would probably never have met. We would never have gotten together. And to be honest, I don't like this idea."

“Even if that sounds pathetic now, but you and Daryl, you two are meant for each other. I think you would have run into each other either way. I can well imagine that you two would have happened one way or another."

“You have to say something like that, Maggie, you are my best friend. But thanks anyway. And as for you and Glenn ..."

"Oh that was just sex," laughed Maggie.

“And sex became love,” you smiled conspiratorially, “and don't even try to deny it. Any blind person can see how much you love your Korean boy."

“I don't mean to deny anything. But at least it wasn't as much of a drama with Glenn and me as it was with the two of you."

"What are you talking about?”

With mock insult, you cross your arms in front of your body.

“Oh come on, Y/N/N, that was really like a soap opera. You have no idea how desperate we all were because the two of you couldn't handle it."

“Yeah, thank you, don't remind me. With the amount of tears I've shed because of him, this whole prison could be flooded. I'm just glad that Michelle leaves me alone now."

"And I thought you'd be glad you and Daryl are a couple now," Maggie replied mischievously.

"You are so stupid sometimes," you laughed and playfully pelted your friend with your pillow, "of course I am. Very much."

"I know what you mean. She was so after you. That was really no longer normal. She felt like a high school bully to me."

"Yes, thank you. Please don't remind me. I'm just glad she stopped chasing after Daryl."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," said Maggie with a shrug.

"Why?"

"Wait a minute, you don't know?"

"What shall I know?"

"Daryl gave this woman hell."

You stared at Maggie in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth wide in shock.

"He has what? When? Where? Why? How?"

“You were still in the infirmary. Daryl was more or less busy moving. He partly overheard a conversation, "began Maggie meekly, and you noticed how uncomfortable the whole thing was for her, "that was really not intended, honestly. But he heard Carol and I ... well, we talked about how we actually blame Michelle for it - that you almost died. Especially after she scolded you for so long. Though I would have liked to have punched her earlier because of that, just like Carol."

"And how did Daryl react to that," you asked nervously.

"Well, first he confronted us, and then he snapped into protection mode."

"Oh shit."

"Yes. He then went to Michelle and confronted her ... although he didn't even really let her have a say. The woman got the lecture of her life. I'm actually surprised that you didn't hear Daryl in the infirmary, the way he screamed."

“Wow, I know what it is like when Daryl freaks out. I'm almost sorry for the woman."

"Seriously? That woman messed you up for weeks and now you feel sorry for her? I think she deserves what she got."

“I said: I'm ALMOST sorry for her, not that I feel sorry for her. That's a difference Maggs."

“Well, whatever. In any case, that was the last day that Michelle got close to Daryl."

You tried to hold back a grin as you looked at Maggie through your eyelashes.

"Does that sound bad when I tell you that I even enjoy the fact that she has disappeared from our periphery."

“No, it doesn't. I understand that. And I am so glad that you two are finally happy together."

Your friend hugged you lovingly.

"Thanks."

“Where we are on that subject right now. I still have something for you. Or rather for both of you. So that you can have fun without a guilty conscience."

And with that she reached into her cloth sack again and took out another box. Larger than the previous one, and two more that looked like toothpaste wrappers.

You looked at your best friend questioningly.

"Read", she just said and held out the larger box to you, "read."

Confused, you took it from her and began to read. After the first few words your eyes widened, and you stared at Maggie in shock; your mouth opened wide. Hardly a moment later you grabbed one of the other packages and read the label.

"Oh my God. How? Where?"

"As I said, this Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove."

"Amazon sold something like that?"

"Seems so."

"Oh my fucking god", you shouted a little louder and still couldn't believe what you were holding in your hand.

"Yes, I think you will soon call that more often in these four walls."

Instantly you froze and looked at Maggie in silence and wide-eyed. Hardly three seconds later you both started to laugh loudly, as if on command. You just could not believe what this woman had brought you from that run.

A bloody condom was nowhere to be found within a radius of no idea how many miles. But Maggie had somehow managed to find a diaphragm with the corresponding spermicide gel in this huge hall complex of a former mail order company.

"Do you think the stuff still works," you said thoughtfully after a while.

“According to the expiration date, it should work for at least another year. I don't think it'll take you more than a year to use it up, though,” Maggie said mischievously.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Thanks would be a good start."

"Thanks. I mean that honestly."

"No problem."

"Please don't get me wrong, it's not that Daryl and I aren't having fun, but ..."

"But sex brings a certain closeness that you can hardly achieve in any other way," Maggie completed your train of thought.

"Yes."

"To be honest, I have to show you both my respect."

"Why?"

"Well, living so close together, being together without ever really having sex ... I don't think Glenn and I would manage that. No matter how good he is at the thing down there."

“Well on that point I can't really complain. But thank you for this gift. I really appreciate it."

"You're wellcome."

“Normally I would say I'll think of you when I use it. But in this case …."

"Oh my god please don't."

And with that, both of you laughing, continued to dedicate yourselves to your girls-night.

Maggie and you were just having a great time about how Rick had tried his hand at catching chickens today. It had been a divine spectacle. The two of you had not been able to laugh at something like that for a long time - as you did today at Rick - who at some point lay face down on the floor while the chicken ran nimbly over him.

“Am I botherin’ ya?” You heard Daryl's deep voice at some point.

You and Maggie were surprised to see the redneck standing in the doorway.

"You're back," you asked in amazement, your cheeks still reddened from laughing.

"Yes? Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh god, what time is it," Maggie wanted to know.

"A little after midnight," Daryl replied in surprise.

Neither of you expected that. The time had passed by, and neither of you had noticed how late it was.

“Oh my god, I have to go back. It's a miracle that Glenn hasn't sent a search party yet."

Still laughing, Maggie gathered up her things and quickly made her way back to the cell block, but not without yelling "see you tomorrow".

"Did you have fun?"

"Obviously."

"Was this a kind of girls-night or somethin’?" Daryl asked while he took off his crossbow and put it in its place.

"Yes, something like that."

"Like > painting each other's nails < and so?"

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and punished the man across from you with a slightly annoyed look.

"Seriously?"

"Yea."

"No. No nail polish, no makeup. And before you ask, we didn't do each other's hair either."

"No, just laughed at Rick tryin’ to catch the chickens today."

A smile tugged on Daryl's lips as he thought of that afternoon's show.

"Oh come on, that was really funny. And you laughed yourself. Don't think I didn't see that."

"The poor man was pretty exhausted after the whole story."

"Yes, but he didn't want my help ... at least initially. I just hope Judith lets him sleep tonight."

"Well, otherwise we have to expect a grumpy Rick tomorrow."

"Unthinkable!"

Theatrically you held your head and fell back on the bed, on which you were still sitting.

"Actually, I didn't expect to find ya awake," Daryl finally said as he took off his jeans.

“Wasn't planned that way either. But Maggs and I kind of lost track of time."

"Typical girls."

"Newsflash smart ass: I'm a girl."

"Already noticed."

Slowly you realized how tired and exhausted you actually were. You stretched yourself with relish, and some of your joints cracked before you relaxed and snuggled into your pillow.

"Tired?"

"Yes, very."

"That's what happens when ya're up all night instead of sleepin’."

"Oh shut up and come here," you said, just slightly annoyed.

"Yes ma'am."

Hardly a moment later you felt the mattress next to you dipping in due to its weight. He put his left arm to the side to make room for you. As if on cue, you snuggled up close to him and nestled your head in the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder.

Daryl put his arm around you. He lovingly began to draw patterns on your back with his fingertips. A feeling of absolute happiness flooded you as you just enjoyed being close to him. The tender caresses on your back relaxed you more and more, and you already noticed how you were slowly falling asleep.

"I'm proud of ya," you heard Daryl whisper.

His rough voice made his chest vibrate under you.

"Why?" You asked, already slightly sleeping.

“Ya did a great job today with the chicken coop. I'm really proud of ya," Daryl muttered before giving you a long kiss on the top of the head, "and Jeff would be too."