#rocket lawn chair
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DEATH TRAP
daryl dixon x fem reader
WARNINGS: injured daryl, mentions of scars, gun usage, mentions of fighting, death threats, season 1-2 era tbh, mentions of Andrea/Shane
she had been waiting for Daryl to come back from looking for Sophia, she had offered to go with him but she could notice he was distressed at the fact they hadn't found his brother and well that he hadn't had a clue on where the hell she was.
she sat back in one of the cheap lawn chairs that came from Dale's RV as she had been carving a piece of wood with her blade, maybe just until it ran out or maybe she was making a stake.
whatever it was it was out of the boredom and anxiousness of waiting for her boyfriend to come back from his journey, his journey that she knew was dangerous because the woods were filled with walkers and steep hills that could surely kill him if he fell.
she looked up at Andrea who had a straw hat shaped like a cowboys, a dirt stained white tank top and a pair of jeans that obviously needed a fresh wash, she crossed her legs as she cocked her head at the sight of something slipping from the woods.
"Walker!" she called watching as Rick, Shane and Glenn had hopped over the fence, she angled her rifle, "bet i can nail him from here" she spoke with her obvious ego flashing through but Rick had told her hold back that, he had told her to let them handle it.
because after all the noise would trigger more walkers and their camp wasn't very much fit for a one hundred percent guranteed protection for them even if it was littered with barbed wire and wooden fences.
y/n had hopped the fence herself walking towards the walker, she turned to hear the click of a gun the sound of the safety being clicked off by the blonde who sat on top of the RV behind her.
"He told you to stand down! follow the order" she scoffed as she flipped back around pulling out her blade and rushing toward where the three men stood, except they weren't killing the walker they had just been simply standing around it watching it.
it only took her a few more steps to realize that it wasn't a walker but instead it was her boyfriend who was covered in dirt and drenched in water while he had an arrow through his body.
"is that Daryl?" Glenn asked as he had a knife ready in his hand, Rick had pointed his gun at him aiming for dead center of his forehead.
"that's the third time you pointed that thing at my head" he scoffed as he licked his lips clean hearing the others let out a breather of relief once they realized he wasn't a walker.
"Jesus Daryl you scared us thought you were a walker"
she sighed as she tucked away her knife back into her holster before one of the others could get a word in they heard the loud echo of a gun shot rocket through the air around them.
and suddenly he was knocked on the ground, his body out as he flopped back into the grass, y/n let out a scream as she dropped to her knees to see if the bullet had actually hit him.
she swallowed harshly as she rubbed the side of his head feeling some blood emit out onto her fingers, "i was just kidding" he remarked as they helped pick them up from the grass.
y/n could feel some tears being harshly forced back inside her as she looked down at the wounds on his body, a few scrapes and bruises from his arms to his face, an arrow through his torso, and now an almost lethal gun shot wound to the side of his head.
she had watched the others running towards the fence while Glenn had ripped off the walker ears he wore around his neck, Andrea had a look of defeat on her face as she could still see her target walking.
and well her target that wasn't a walker but yet one of them.
"what the hell happened!" Carol yelled as she watched y/n flick her eyes up to the blonde who was now hopping down from the roof of the RV to try and fix her mistake.
"he alright?" was all she asked, not an apology or even a full sense of worry lingering from her, except those two god damn dull words.
"don't worry about it Andrea" y/n scoffed as she and Rick had taken control of carrying his body up to the house, Hershel had followed behind them while he looked at Daryl's blood stained tank top.
Y/n was angry, she was scared and she was so god damn furious, so much that she could feel a wave of anger wanting to erupt like a tsunami on the women who almost killed him.
Daryl was placed down in the bed and stripped of his shirt, Hershel had gotten his table full of tools and Rick had forcefully pulled y/n out of the room so she wouldn't have to watch an arrow being removed from his body, she bit at her nails nervously.
Rick had noticed her distress and hadn't left her side even if it meant him sitting there for hours while Hershel fixed and cleaned up the wound to make sure it hadn't gotten infected.
and the subtle three hours had felt like eternity to her, because she couldn't stop pacing and wanting to get a glance through the door, even some of the others had come to comfort her all except the women half responsible for almost killing him.
and once the bedroom door was opened she could see Hershel pulling off a latex glove and patting y/n on the shoulder, without even such a hesitation she was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at him, looking at his bandages and scrapes and bruises.
"what happened?" she asked watching him lick over his lips before actually responding the full story of how he ended up like this.
"well that damn horse got scared and threw me off a cliff and i landed on an arrow, as for the walker ears i wanted a trophy" he spoke feeling as she got closer so she could rub the side of his cheek.
she frowned softly at the wound as she looked over at it, "don't be sad it was just a simple scratch and tumble" he spoke taking her hand in his and trying to soothe her.
"just a scratch? she almost killed you and well for the arrow you could've died if it hit one of your organs Daryl" she watched him smile a little almost like he was amused by it.
"i'm fine just a little sleepy that's all, promise you won't worry while i catch up on some sleep please?" he asked rubbing over the top of her hand while he could feel her gently pull away.
she nodded at him standing up from the bed and peppering a kiss on his forehead, she turned out the lamp and softly shut the door behind her, and with that she checked to see if her gun was loaded.
and it was, she had a full round left over, a full round that meant there was enough to maybe take over on walker duty because the obvious woman in control couldn't do her job right.
she thanked Hershel who sat in a reclining chair reading an old book, he smiled and replied with a simple nod at her gesture of thanks, he watched her slip out of the door her gun tucked away from his view.
she could see the others still around as the sun was just now barely setting, it was still quite visible in the sky making the day still alive as they now sat around to enjoy one another's presence and maybe just to wait on answers on how Daryl was doing.
"he's fine, he's just sleeping" she spoke to the group as she patted Glenn on the shoulder and moved along to where Andrea sat, now she was lower on the ground and not on top of the RV.
she ripped the rifle from her hands as she tossed it to where the others were sitting, Andrea had her hand on her knife to which y/n had pulled out her pistol placing it in between her eyes.
"c'mon try it" she hissed watching as her hands went away from her knife and into the air to show she wasn't going to try anything.
"woah! what the hell are you doing?!" Shane announced as he adjusted the police cap on his head watching as y/n's gaze focused on the curly blonde in front of her.
"what the hell am i doing? what the hell was she doing? Rick gave you an order and you ignored it, you could've killed Daryl, and you didn't even say anything close to an apology"
she could see Shane reach for her belt but she had placed the gun in his direction watching him back down before she focused back on Andrea who's pupils were dilated in fear.
"he looked like a walker not my fault" she remarked back at y/n watching her eyebrows raise as the tip of the gun was moved to now the dead center of her forehead making the others look around in a quite nervous terror at one another.
"you ever and i mean ever pull any of this bullshit on me or Daryl or even another one of us and so help me i'll place a bullet in you and i promise you i won't miss my target like you"
y/n remarked placing her gun back in the leather holster she could see the others staring at her like she was a monster like she was crazy but she hadn't felt anything for her, she hadn't felt anything but stupidity for trusting her.
Shane had grabbed her arm to pull her away, "are you crazy?" he hissed bitterly in a slight whisper, her eyes flicked up at him as she looked away with a roll of them.
"don't touch me or i'll put a bullet in you" she huffed as she snatched her arm away from his grasp and taking a few steps back so she could manage her way away from him.
"whatever freak show you have with him doesn't mean you can come and start waving a god damn gun in our face you hear me!" Shane shouted stepping even closer while she now was starting to step away even Rick had noticed him growing closer and closer.
"Shane back the hell away it's not your decision, let it be she did what she did even if it was wrong or right it was it is now back away"
she felt good that rick was standing up for her, but also she could sense she had been a fool to start waving a gun in someones face.
but she reminded herself that someone she loved could have been gone within a few split seconds because of her foolishness, because she didn't know how to properly follow an order she was given.
Shane had backed away poking his tongue in his bottom lip as he softly huffed at the idea of her placing a gun in her face, y/n gulped as she looked around at the others.
"i had my reasons, what if she killed him? you know how devastated we would be if he died! how devastated i would be? i'm not going to let her risk our lives! Rick you gave her an order and she still didn't stand down when you told her to!"
she watched as Glenn looked down at his shoes sinking into the dirt because he knew she was right, Dale seemed to look back and forth at both girls and Rick rubbed over the stubble of his beard while the others still remained keeping their eyes on her.
"hand over the gun" Rick spoke watching as y/n scoffed and raised her eyebrows at his demand, "no!" she uttered in disbelief at him.
"give me the gun, we don't kill the living y/n!" he yelled while he gestured his hand out for the pistol, "you get it back when you're out scavenging or hunting that's it you want safety i'm giving it to you right now so take the deal and move on"
he made a deal with her to which she un-holstered her gun and clicked on the safety while pressing it harshly into the bare cracked palm of his hand.
-
she watched Carol slip out of the bedroom as she set a plate of dinner in front of both of them and left with just a soft smile.
y/n had always liked Carol, she liked the way she cared for Daryl and the way she was like a mother to her, the way she was so kind and so sweet and well the way she was so homely even in the end of the world where flesh eating monsters roamed, even when her husband died and her own daughter had gone missing.
Daryl quickly stuffed his face with the food because truly he had barely been eating, unless you count raw squirrel intestines and to which they weren't very filling for him.
not with how long he had been walking through the woods, and fighting off walkers, which is why by the time y/n had actually taken her first bite he was done with half of the plate.
he could notice something was off, he could notice she was playing with her food while she stared down and kept avoiding eye contact each time he tried to pry her eyes to look at his.
"what happened while i was out?" he asked watching as she took a bite of a green bean on her plate swallowing it down harshly and poking her fork around the plate with a sad silence.
"y/n what happened while i was sleeping?" he asked this time rubbing her thigh while his thumb skimmed against the clad fabric of the dirty blue jeans she had been wearing for days.
"got my damn gun taken by Rick" she spoke flicking her eyes to look up at the man who had his brows furrowed while he was still stuffing his face with some of the food brought in by Carol.
"i threatened Andrea and Shane so he said i can only have it during scavenging and hunting, besides Andrea could've killed someone, and what if she did, we don't kill her for it?"
y/n spoke pushing the plate of food away as she looked at his plate now empty without even such as a speck left on the white porcelain.
"you're angry i get it, remember when i tried to kill that one dude back in the city but Rick told me no, because he took Glenn and i was so angry, i don't blame you y/n" he spoke with a soft smile.
"she deserves to pay for the mistake maybe not death but when i walked out there she still had that damn rifle in her hands, no one even thought to take it from her, she didn't even think to come and apologize for almost killing you Daryl."
she almost wanted to cry but he put the plates on the night stand and pulled her into his arms, he shushed her softly as one of his hands stroked over the top of her hair.
"in the end it'll happen, maybe not now but someday she'll learn from the mistake just like we do, just like i've learned not to ride horses" he joked hearing a soft sniffle and giggle come from her.
he peppered a kiss on the back of her neck.
"and i've learned to never give her a rifle"
#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon#daryl#daryl x reader#the walking dead fic#fem reader smut#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x you#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon smut twd#twd angst#twd daryl#twd show#twd fandom#twd cosplay#rick grimes#shane twd#andrea twd#the walking dead
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Now You Gotta...
Edited-ish. ~850 words.
“Missed me!” You yell at JJ as he throws an empty beer can just past you. Sticking out your tongue at him is the perfect bait before you wink at him. “That’s 0 for 6, right?”
“4.” He mutters, picking up another crushed can littering the ground by the fire. Kie will have him picking every single one up once the game is over. You both know it.
You grin at him. “Guess you need to work on your aim.”
Pope laughs, enjoying the banter while Sarah and John B are busy making out by the fire. Kiara is inside, pulling things together for s’mores.
Another beer can falls a few inches to your right, and you laugh before smirking at JJ. “Missed again!”
“I’m going to get you, one way or another.” JJ is growing irritated, and it makes you grin bigger. He scoops up another before hurling it at you. This one rockets past your face by less than an inch.
His widened gaze meets yours, both of you shocked at how close he got to hitting you in the face.
“Missed me.”
He rolls his eyes and gets up, but you know what is about to happen, so you quickly move to put the making out pair between you. Pope grins, watching with delight in his eyes. The two of you bickering always makes Pope laugh. You were quick-witted, and JJ could flirt with just about anyone. It is pure entertainment for anyone who gets a chance to witness it.
You are well aware of what he is tempting. Even as you try to playoff his advances discreetly, you grin, butterflies exploding in your belly. “What? Throwing beer cans at me isn’t enough?”
He makes another move to get around the fire. His ball cap comes off, and he flexes it between his palms. You shake your head at him, a warning shining in your eyes, afraid he would throw it and miss you, and it land in the fire. His favorite red cap burned to ash because he could not help himself.
“JJ,” you murmur gently. “Don’t you dare.”
He laughs before he flicks his wrist, and the hat falls just shy of the fire. You tilt your head at him in surprise. His confidence rewarded him in it not burning.
“Missed me, missed me.” You stick out your tongue. “Now you’ve gotta…” You fade out, cheeks burning. All eyes are on you, including Sarah and John B.
“Now I’ve got to what?” JJ asks, drawing closer.
“Nothing.” You shrug, side-stepping around Pope’s chair and frantically searching for something to distract him or save yourself with. “Forget it.”
“No, no, no.” JJ smirks, using his longer legs to close even more distance between you. “Now I gotta what?”
You flush hotter, gaze catching on Sarah’s face. She is smirking, enjoying herself, and clearly ignoring your silent pleas for help. In your desire to get her help, you miss JJ closing the distance. Then there is the hot press of his hands around your waist. You jump in surprise, a sharp gasp falling from your lips.
JJ laughs, enjoying having the upper hand while he looks at you. His blue eyes burn as they lock with yours. “Now I gotta what?”
You shiver, fingertips digging into his arms as he holds you. “… kiss me.” You whisper, voice slightly trembling. The butterflies in your stomach increase by 100 times.
And he does. JJ Maybank kisses you in a searing kiss. Sarah gasps, and John B shares a yelp of surprise with Pope before they wolf whistle and jostle each other in joy. But you cannot help yourself, and you kiss him back. Your hands move up his arms, his shoulders, and into his hair. Your fingers twist in the blond locks as the kiss deepens. Your toes curl in your shoes, and you shiver, pressing your body closer to his.
“Whoa!” Kiara’s voice echoes across the lawn.
His grip tightens a fraction, asking you to stay in his arms. Worry clouds his gaze as he waits to see if you will shame him or stay with him. The chance of his luck running out just as he gets to you scares him.
“What is going on?” Kiara whispers louder than she intended. You laugh, resting your head on JJ’s shoulder as you evaluate each pogue for any objection to this new connection. It would be against a rule, but at the same time, no one objected to Sarah and John B. And you liked JJ so very much.
“Finally,” John B grins, winking at you both. “JJ can stop complaining about getting nowhere with you.”
JJ shakes his head, hiding his burning cheeks by ghosting his lips across your temple. You look at him in surprise to which he shrugs at. The confidence wavering slightly before he leans in again. “He’s not wrong.”
“He never is.” You murmur, pecking his lips. "You can kiss me anytime you want; you know."
He laughs. "I plan to."
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used to you
i need you guys to know this was only supposed to be a short blurb but i got carried away then tried to rein it back bc i felt it getting too long and now, this is what you guys get so enjoy heheehehehe // also someone tell me i’m not the only one who has had rickyl invade their feed (not that i’m complaining)
i also scheduled this to go up last night and it didn’t so 😑
18+ content
••
it had been you two from the start, you and daryl falling easily together. as strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers.
the pair of you had just meshed unbelievably well and no one could stop it, not that they would want too. you guys complimented each other with your sweet softness and his edgy strength, both bringing out something the other needed.
with everything you both went through, landing in a community that called for settling was the last thing you guys expected but it was welcomed.. atleast for some of your group.
it took awhile for your groups leader, rick, to realize that it was safe, seemingly struggling the most out of everyone despite needing this equally as much.
but something about watching you and daryl fall into a routine: waking up in the morning, sharing breakfast before parting for the day, only to come back together at dusk to eat dinner before falling into bed together- it all made him feel like it was okay to just.. be, for now.
and he was, he could handle coming home after a long day of work to no one but his kids and crawling into an empty bed- until he wasn’t.
because somewhere in your sweet soul, you began helping with the kids, making sure breakfast was served for everyone, bidding farewell from the porch with baby judith stuck to your hip, then greeting everyone cheerfully with dinner and equally charming dismissals of sweet dreams.
you’d given him a taste of what domestic life was like and that would have been fine too, he could find someone to fill that space- except they wouldn’t ever reach the level of grace and love, you exuded in your actions for him and his kids.
all of it, had him looking at you differently.
finding himself laughing harder at your dumb jokes, making fickle eye contact, constant fidgeting with his clothes or hair, and following you like a damn puppy whenever you were near.
and it was no secret to daryl or you. having found his newfound traits towards you to be a tad amusing.
daryl figured it out first; always the best observer, he found his friends eyes lingering longer than normal on you. saw the way he went out of his way sometimes to just speak to you but he’d never touch.
while you; a woman, well.. don’t woman know everything? it wasn’t exactly rocket science to figure it out with the way he fumbled his words around you and constantly asked your opinions on things that held no real weight.
daryl kept quiet on the matter whereas the minute you caught whiff of ricks growing crush, you had giddily told him.
there wasn’t much else that came of it, daryl wasn’t threatened nor worried and you basked under the extra attention while rick remained oblivious to both of your acknowledgment of his clear infatuation.
but resisting you was daryls biggest downfall and he knew, with time, rick would eventually want to cave into his desires too. that’s when he questioned you on the matter again, wanting to find out just exactly how you felt about it all, along with the what ifs.
with the sun setting, the fire sizzled along with the chatter of people around him. daryl sat in a lawn chair, legs bent and spread with the neck of a beer held loosely in one hand as his hooded eyes followed your figure.
you; who had taken advantage of the humid weather to doll yourself up in a short sundress that swayed with the light wind every now and then, stood across the grassy area. your hands animated as you gleefully spoke to maggie and rosita.
since you’ve left his lap, he has done nothing but follow you with his eyes as you bounce from one group to another. you’d had a few sips of some fruity cocktail someone had made, the lightweight you were showcased even more as you became more touchy to everyone willing to accept your loving affection.
it amused him more than anything, better than any pointless conversations that surrounded him.
there was a light sheen layered over your warm skin, glistening under the little light left from the sky. daryl swallows a gulp of his beer to ease his sudden bout of thirst, sometimes you mindlessly walk around like a wet dream of his and it was so fucking infuriating that others get to witness the absolute vision you are.
as if sensing his heated gaze, you break from the conversation to lock eyes with him before a smile spreads across your lips at his obvious desire.
he’d hope his eyes said enough that you’d come bounding back to him and sit back in his lap to sedate the growing fire in the pit of his stomach but you only send him a playful wink and turn back to the girls infront you.
you like the chase, he knows that.
and he plans to come join you, hoping his touch would rein you back in enough to make you follow him back home and fall into bed together except he doesn’t even get the chance to stand before another presence enters the small group.
rick holds a glass of water in one hand, the other brushing your elbow as it comes back in the middle of your fit of expression, his touch startles you for a second before you laugh at something he says and continue on with your story- entrancing the group once again.
daryl’d probably find himself stuck on you too if not for the fact that this is the first time he has seen rick touch you in some way. it clearly meant nothing but a form of protection from his stomach that you almost hit as he approached you from behind but it was also something new.
rick stands close to you, so close that you occasionally brush against him with the slightest drunken movements. even across the ways, daryl can sense the clear excitement that comes from the other man at the simplest touches.
there’s no hiding from his glaringly obvious stare but under the trance of your presence, rick doesn’t even acknowledge him, seemingly lost in whatever you contribute in conversation and attempting to bounce off it to keep your attention.
daryl only slouches further into his seat, his free hand coming to rest over his mouth, scratching at the scruff on his chin, finger swiping over his lips before resting it against his jaw as he watches you both from under his messy bangs. rick reaches out and places a hand on your lower back when you seem to laugh too hard- having thrown your head back enough to lose your balance slightly.
his hand lingers even when you steady yourself, settling it more firmly as if testing his luck and when you don’t pull away- he saddles up closer, if that’s even possible.
you seem the least bit concerned about any of it but to daryls trained eye, he’d caught the quick side-eye glance you’d given him as you shifted onto your feet, purposefully bumping your shoulder into ricks chest.
daryl can’t help but bite back an amused smirk that threatens to take over. he shifts in the lawn chair, spreading his knees wider once he catches your eyes back on him.
his stance screams insouciant; passive to your clear act of defiance and maybe that’s what gets you so hot- no matter how much you push it, daryl would never verbally break but physically..
he knew just how to show you who was still in charge.
so it’s almost too easy as you bid a quick farewell to those you previously seemed interested in conversating with but now, you dismiss yourself rather hastily before speedily rounding the fire to place yourself sideways in his lap.
“hi” you breathily mumble against his cheek as your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling yourself as close to his warm body as possible.
“hi darlin’” daryls husky voice rumbled deep into his chest, one arm wrapping around your body- securing your placement across his legs. his large hand encompasses your bare thigh, revealed from the inches your dress has ridden up when you had fallen clumsily into him.
“missed you..” your whiney tone has daryl letting out a light-hearted scoffed laugh.
“been ‘ere tha whole time ya were flirtin’ ova there” he squeezes your thigh roughly before rubbing his thumb soothingly over the smooth surface.
“wasn’t flirting..” you pull back enough for him to take in your glazed over eyes and pouty lips, it takes everything in him not to pull you up and escape from this get together but..
“happy birthday!” it’s a celebration for you and maybe it isn’t quite appropriate to kidnap you and hide you away when the whole reason this is even happening is because of you. carol holds out another cocktail but daryl dodges it before your hands could make the grab for it.
“think she’s had ‘nough” your body has gone completely lax, damn near weightless in his arms. while you haven’t had a drink in your hand this whole time, he knows you’ve had to of taken sips from someone else’s drink or snuck in shots somewhere that are settling even more into your system as the time goes on.
“oooo, don’t be such a party pooper, pookie!” carols teasing words sends you in a fit of giggles and clearly pleased with the short interaction, she dismisses herself with a few more digs at him as she leans closer to you, “when you can get away from your guard dog, come find me”
you only share a sweet laugh with her as she walks away before turning to daryl with a mischievous smile; seemingly amused. he pulls you roughly into him, your body laying heavily against his chest as he presses a kiss onto your shoulder, mumbling the words, “be good” into it after.
you don’t respond to his words, instead you charmingly join into the conversation with the people sitting by- keen on staying close to daryl but still wanting to be involved with the party.
with his attention no longer focused on you, he can finally acknowledge the piercing stare that’s been on you both since you’ve come bounding into his lap. from over your shoulder, daryl peeks up at rick; who stands in the same spot as before, yet the conversation that surrounds him is ignored as he heatedly gazes in your direction.
daryl watches his eyes trail down your figure, until they land on the newly bare skin of your leg where his hand now resides over the bunched up fabric of your dress.
there’s a moment where he thinks of pulling it down, wondering just how he’ll react to him shielding you from his eyes but the urge to show you off is stronger and daryl finds himself raising the fabric just a tad higher.
at the motion, ricks eyes shoot up to meet his; wide eyed and fish mouthed at being caught- except the blazing fire in daryls eyes is everything but malice.
he knows what absolute vision you look like atop his lap; the light of the fire bouncing off your glistening skin, short white dress contrasting against your sun-kissed tan.
daryl can barely resist the urge to steal you away and devour you in every way that leaves you messy, so he can’t imagine just how much rick must be suffering from having to hold back his own desires.
if there is one thing about daryl; he’s a giving man and how could he leave his brother so obviously thirsty?
his hand bunches the fabric some more, rick quickly following the sudden movement with his eyes, prepared to get a glimmer of what could be-
except your hand shoots down over daryls, shooting him a questionable look at the odd behavior. he only nods his head in the direction of the other man who locks eyes with you the minute you catch them.
daryl leans forward near your ear, “got ya a fan, baby”
you elbow him playfully before sending a sweet reassuring smile to rick, “how long?”
“since ya left ‘im”
“hm..”
“hm?” daryl hums back questionably to which you respond with a careless shrug as you both stare down rick who holds your heated gazes.
for once, he remains unreadable to daryl but from the current act you both put on together and clear indifference on the matter well he isn’t exactly surprised when rick seemingly takes a whole new interest in all things you, questioning him constantly on minuscule details such as: where were you? how were you? were you adjusting to the new environment? how was the new job treating you?
until they weren’t so innocent anymore and the leader became more bold in his approach.
the only light came from a small lamp that casted a soft yellow hue over the living room space. a half bottle of whiskey sat on the coffee table between the two men’s bodies, one glass in both of their hands as they sipped on it occasionally in the midst of conversation.
daryl- always so good at handling his liquor felt a cool buzz under his skin while rick tried to keep up, only to realize a little too late that he’s reached his limit.
it was rare to get the chance to just sit and drink but after a week long supply trip- they both deserved it.
daryls body ached even after the hot shower he took with you, where you lathered his body in soap and pressed your fingers into his sore back. maybe it didn’t help that immediately after he fell into bed with you, indulging himself into every bit of you until he felt like he had his fill or atleast until you were given atleast three orgasms.
but how was he to deny you? looking at him as if he held the world in his hands, begging him to just touch you and grabbing his body in ways only you knew made his heart pulse.
and while you laid tiredlessly in the bed after your fit of passion, he slipped back upstairs to check in on the other people in the house- only to find everyone already prepared for bed, lights turned off except for the one spilling from the living room where only one person resided in.
still struggling to adjust to sleeping in a bed, in a house, in walls- well, daryl doesn’t mind sitting and chatting for a bit until exhaustion settles fully into his body and his mind will finally shut off so he can get a decent amount of rest.
the alcohol is only an added bonus to make him effortlessly slip into unconsciousness.
“she excited to see you? barely got a glimpse of her before she whisked you away” rick can remember easily how his chest ached when all you did was greet him with a quick half hug before gripping back onto daryl and dragging him off.
“mm..” daryl grunts, excited might be an understatement as you had practically vibrated in his arms when he first walked through the door and jumped onto him.
nevermind the care and attention you gave him in the shower and in bed. allowing him to just take what he needed while mewls of pleasure slipped from your lips, hands trying to grasp onto him as the euphoric feeling grew deep into your stomach, body shaking in pure ecstasy as you reached multiple highs.
“she’s a good one.. you’re lucky man”
“yuh.. she’s good” the words drip suggestively following his previous dirty thoughts.
“… yeah?” rick doesn’t look at him, simply taking another sip from his glass of whiskey but his words oozes a certain yearning for more about you.
daryl would never want to sit and talk about you in a such a way with just about anyone- but rick is his best friend, his confidante, his right-hand man, his brother.
if there was someone who he trusted with his life, it was the man to his left.
besides you, of course.
“mm.. cheeky as ‘ell but she’s sweet” it’s vague but rick gets it, you’re a firecracker. an absolute angel with a burning need to do right by anyone who has been wronged.
daryl loves that about you- equally as much as rick found it so.. enticing.
“givin’?” rick isn’t sure how far he can get away with his questions so he keeps them just as vague as daryls’ answers.
“loves it.. always so eager ta please, tha’ one” the reply slips from his lips easily, daryl finding himself slouching further into the couch as the alcohol settles into his veins, his buzz heightened by the topic of conversation to create a hungry heat that burns from within as he shifts to discreetly adjust himself.
blinded by his own building desire, he misses the way rick chews on his own lip, fists clenching as he resists the urge to adjust his own growing arousal.
the hum of fervor thrums throughout the dimly lit room, the warmth bubbles them in as if they are the only two people on earth with a sudden thirst to last them a lifetime.
“can imagine she fights you though” rick swallows the last gulp of whiskey in his glass, holding the cup in his lap- afraid if he makes one sudden move that it will break whatever safe haze that has casted over them.
“tries, she likes a bit of tossing ‘bout” daryls head falls to the back of the couch, eyes closing as he re-envisions his welcome home gift: you, who still lies warmly in his bed and now that he thinks about it, why did he leave?
“likes it rough then?” it’s a bolder question, yet- with the warm liquor settled into their stomachs, neither of them seem to bat an eye.
“needs it. leaves her putty in yer hands by tha end of it” an even bolder statement that fuels the everbuilding fire within them both, a sudden yearning to please the heat of it.
except only one of them will actually get the chance to quell that need while the other is left longing for a fill.
the silence between them lingers heavy in the air.
“i see tha way ya look at ‘er” the accusation has rick freezing, body thrumming with mild panic as he readies himself for the wrath of his friend’s anger but daryls head still rests against the couch, body completely laxed and only sinking further into the cushions, “dun’ mind, know ‘ts hard to not”
rick isn’t sure how to respond, if he is quite honest, he thought he hid it pretty well at first. the night of your birthday celebration was a mere fluke filled with nothing but alcohol and mock confidence. he had figured you guys had forgotten all about it.
“i-i’m not trying to start nothing, just yeah, lookin’ man.. wasn’t going to do nothing”
“ya want too though?”
“what?”
“she said ya had a crush on ‘er” daryl shrugs, “asked ‘er wha’ she thought ‘bout it n she jus’… got all red n shit. knew she wanted ya then”
“i-i..” rick is thrown for a loop, his drunken mind slow in catching up to every word that spills from his friends mouth.
“if ya know wha’ ya doin’.. ya can try” daryl now leans towards rick as if sharing a secret but his demeanor no longer holds such openness as he stares menacingly with waves of threat rolling off of him, “there ain’t no more rules but she always comes first- she tells ya no, ya back tha hell off”
at that, daryl pushes off the couch after setting his empty cup onto the coffee table. it’s as if a steam of smoke follows after him, a sudden need to cool off but instead of going outside for fresh air-
he’s slipping back into his room, his bleary eyes landing on your still figure illuminated shallowly by the moonlight. the dark sheets do little to cover your naked body as you lie with your back facing him; clearly having pulled it to cover your front but left the cool air to kiss the dip of your spine.
a tasteful sight.
one that daryl could never turn down as he quickly strips to his briefs before sliding his body right behind yours, the warmth you’ve accumulated in your sleep only lights the one that’s been burning within him for the past hour.
you whine softly as his broad body encompasses you, a heavy arm slipping around your waist to pull your hips firmly into his; practically morphing your body along his.
daryl nestles his face into the nape of your neck, pressing a wet kiss onto the smooth skin as he hums comfortly to your protested noise.
there’s a moment of silence, one where daryl thinks you’ve fallen back asleep and despite his previous desires, he too, could have lost himself to conciousness.
except your hips shift, pressing harder into him and with only thin layers between your bodies, the result is delicious. daryl releases a moan of appreciation at the spring of pleasure that the motion brought on.
his hand moves to your hip, gripping it tightly as you continuously roll back onto his cock that had been poking at you since he crawled into bed.
you’re quick to roll over, forcing him to lie on his back as you press your bare body ontop of his. fingers coming up to comb through the messy strands of hair, face hovering over his.
“haven’t you had enough?” you tease softly as your lips brush against his, pulling away slightly when he attempts to press them together.
“never get ‘nough of ya” his hands come to rest along your back, musing with the tangled sheets to get a feel of your soft skin.
“hm..” the heavy press of his fingers dancing over your spine has you arching your naked chest closer to his, “where’d you go?”
“rick..” the simple brushing of his hair and the warmth you emit above him nearly lulls him to sleep with his eyelashes fluttering as he attempts to grasp onto the conversation, “talkin’..”
“about?” you pull on his hair gently to gain his attention, the sting of it flushing him something hot.
“‘bout ya..” his eyes lid heavily with arousal as he looks up at you.
“me? what about me?” you shift your body more until your legs untangle from the sheets and you’re able to place them on either side of his body, knees pressing into the mattress more securely.
the alcohol must be wearing off as a flush of embarrassment settles uncomfortably in his chest when he thinks back to the way him and rick spoke about you.
the hesitancy in his response has you peppering kisses along his jawline and your hands traveling from his hair to his chest, nails dragging gently over his skin. the sensation sends a thrilling shiver through his body, eyes falling shut at the slight pampering you give him.
“tell me..” you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before finally giving in, pressing a heated kiss onto his lips. daryls hands slip further down, caressing over your ass before gripping the back of your thighs until you bend your legs even more: fitting your core directly over his throbbing cock. the new position has you gasping, a reaction that allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth but before you could lose yourself further, you pull away to repeat your demand, “tell me”
“he was askin’ me questions..” you hum so he knows you’re listening as you roll your hips slowly over him; a motion that has him releasing a grunt before speaking breathily, “told ‘im- he could try”
“yeah?” you watch him bite his bottom lip, eyes rolling back as you continue your teasing ministrations.
“mhm.. so ya could stop buggin’ me ‘bout it” the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“shut up” one of your hands slide between your bodies, slipping inside his briefs and gripping his thobbing cock, “don’t seem to be complaining” he curses under his breath as his eyes open to immediately lock onto yours that glint with mischief, “ya want it as much as i do, hm?” his head tips back as your hand squeezes him- the angle is awkward to get a proper grip but your fingers circle around his swollen tip that oozes precum as you jerk him off clumsily, “say it”
it’s messy and he fucking loves it that way as he brokenly gasps, “i do”
“hm?” your nose bumps his chin before his head is tipping back down to meet your heated gaze.
“wanna see ya with ‘im” the heated arousal has dropped his voice even deeper, the rumbling of his chest vibrating with his desperate words: it’s true though. he’s a natural obeserver and the idea of you under rick? it makes him so unbelievably hot, something he struggled to understand but of course; with your loving, open heart and overtly helping hands- he was able to come to terms that it was okay to like what he liked.
“i know” your mocking tone has him flipping your bodies around with a playful growl into your shoulder that sends you in a fit of giggles when his scruff tickles at your bare skin.
••
daryl hadn’t expected things to move on so quickly after the fact, whereas rick seemingly jumped at the first chance before it was taken away.
where the leader was once wary of his affections, now went out of his way to touch you. even finding odd excuses to always have you near, whether that was out on a run because you were considered one of the fastest or simply following him on his daily route around the community because he wanted your opinion on the newest developments.
your job as a medical assistant did not require such but you went along anyway.
the progression of your situationship advanced quickly right under daryls nose, one moment he watched from afar as you and rick stuck close to one another- clearly fond to be in each other’s presences to then finding you guys in compromising positions.
he hadn’t suspected things had gotten that far, atleast, you never spoke about it but it became apparent it had when he stumbled across you both going at it hastily in the infirmary.
he had an early hunting expedition that made him miss your guys’ normal morning routine so he planned to surprise you by coming by your job for lunch.
arriving at the small house turned hospital, he stepped inside with muted movements. visually the place seemed void of anyone but aurally, there was light scrambling that came from further into the building.
he followed the quiet sounds, assuming you must be taking inventory or simply cleaning but that was far from the case as he passed a room with a cracked door where he saw you placed sat upon a bathroom countertop, dress pulled messily to your waist with rick stood between your legs, unbuckled belt and open jeans.
the initial shock passes through quickly before heat flushes into his body and he finds himself at a loss for breath. there’s a certain desperation in your movements, both you and rick gasping in relief that accompanied your rapid pace; a hunger that is finally being relieved.
ricks hands dig into the top of your thighs, scrunching up your already wrinkled dress as his hips move erratically and his face shoved into your neck as if it would hide the sounds his mouth releases. you respond with your own muted moans, arms wrapped tightly around the man’s shoulders in an attempt at holding onto the pleasure in some form.
it’s rushed, clearly meant for one thing- release.
daryl can tell this isn’t the first time you guys have met up and fell into one another. the level of intimacy isn’t shocking but rather welcomed; hurried but still gratified.
it’s hot, better than he could ever imagine.
he knows what it is like to be inside your warm walls, to be grappled at by your small hands and nails digging into his shoulders, to hear the many beautiful but broken gasps and moans you release so close to his ear- all of you, is so fucking delicious but this view.. this was a whole other level.
and rick, god- rick was rabid. just taking what he wanted without hesitation now that he was given the green light and he had no plans of wasting it as he opened your thighs more, pulling you closer to the edge and pushing himself harder into you.
daryl can feel his pants getting tighter but there’s a fear that if he moves, if even the slightest, you guys will stop and he’s not sure yet if he wants you guys to know he is watching. too lost in each other, his presence remains unknown and he rather likes it that way for now.
people change when they know they are being watched- the way you guys succumb to the burning need within, in pure desperation makes him flush hotly.
so he remains still, despite the aching urge to reach down and soothe his painfully throbbing cock. it’s not much longer when you both reach your highs; your head thrown back as one hand grips ricks bicep and the other caressing the back of his head, shoving his face deeper into your neck. he bites down on your collarbone to muffle his groans, one hand squeezing your thigh and his other arm wrapped around your lower back, pressing you into his last few lazy thrusts.
it becomes a thing, atleast for daryl.
both of you, too far gone to ever notice his lingering presence so yeah.. he continues to observe but it isn’t like he means to find you guys in such compromising positions everytime, it just happens.
like family movie nights where he found you guys going at it in an unlocked bathroom, or the supply closet of the pantry where you were meant to cover a fellow community members shift, even outside the walls where he hunts, against a tree until ricks legs give out and you’re both crumbling to the earths floor.
daryl found it enticing; simply watching and it was never meant to be some secret- you and rick- but you still kept it hidden from him. of course not intentionally, the first time was rushed, then the second was equally as sudden, and then soon, you had found yourselves doing it more and more until it felt like it was too late to tell.
at this point, daryl still found it unbelievably hot and soon, he couldn’t keep himself from asking about it.
your hips rolled heavily over his, only the thin layer of your soaked lace panties between you and his cock. you sat over him in just one of his shirts, his own briefs shoved hastily on the floor, leaving him completely naked.
he was meant to be sleeping, having an early wake up call time the following morning but having not seen you all day, well, it was hard not to resist you after you crawled into bed wearing his shirt but smelling like rick.
you gasp brokenly, chest falling into his at a sharp roll that had the head of his cock pressing right into your covered clit. your hands grip the side of his broad body, face next to his- it’s how he gets the huge whiff of aftershave that so particularly reminds him of the other man and he can’t help but think just what you guys did today and where?
“tell me” his words rumble inside his chest, thus vibrating against your own. the gravely sound so deeply demanding that you almost whimper in response.
“what?” your breathy question; a result from your overuse of exertion to find the perfect angle that will send you both over the edge.
“tell me what he did ta ya today” his eyes are closed, losing himself to the movements of your body against his but he can feel when you still completely above him.
“what?” you push yourself up, hair falling into your face as you look down at him in confusion, “who?”
“rick..” daryl doesn’t know why he suddenly feels embarrassed that he wants to know all about your secret rendezvous’ but it’s out and there was no going back now, “can smell ‘im on ya..”
it takes you a few seconds to gather yourself, shocked that he knows but also not- because of course he’d know. daryl was an incredible reader of people and even without catching physical evidence, in time, he probably would have found out either way. it was also never meant to be a secret, yet you feel a sudden guilt that you hid it from him so long even though you both wanted it.
“d.. i-i was going to tell you” your heart aches at the thought of hurting him, “i- we just got into it so fast and-“
“i know, i saw” your heart drops with your jaw but daryl keeps going even at your obvious shock, “‘n tha infirmary, at tha pantry..”
“d.. i’m sorr-“
“rick was.. ‘s like.. all animal, innit he?” you could not feel more confused in your life at his words that drip heavily with heat, “jus’.. takes wha’ he wants, doesn’t he?” you stop for a few moments to take in daryl, who shys away from your eye contact but once you catch a glimpse of what was once a soft powder blue, now darkened in a sharp sinful black- it clicked.
that, along with his ever pressing cock that has continued to throb under you.
“oh” you watch him flush down to his chest, the sight of him so aroused yet bashful is so sweet but you can’t help the amused smirk that slips on your lips before you begin to grind onto him again, “you are unbelievable, daryl dixon”
the pace of your motions have doubled and he can only nod numbly as his large hands grip your thighs roughly, chewing on his bottom lip to keep from coming prematurely. you can’t help but lean down to kiss him, pressing your lips harshly against his as if it will emit all the love you have for the man below you into it.
you had never seen him so.. submissive to anything- to anyone but seemingly just the idea of you and rick had him in a chokehold.
with a new fervor to get him off, you slip your panties to the side and allow him inside your warm body. the perfect pressure of your wet walls against his cock and the soft whispers in his ear of just exactly what rick does to you- it takes no time for his vision to blur as he comes the hardest he has in awhile.
with the knowledge that he watches known, he no longer finds himself seeking you out when you disappear, knowing later you’ll find him and spill every ounce of detail you could remember.
rick remained to himself, he now knew too that daryl used to lurk in the shadows and even that he liked to hear what they get up to when he catches you alone.
neither men spoke much about it, sticking to small talk when around one another but none of them held any malice on the matter; simply existing around you.
and god, you- you loved it. feeding off the energy of both men everytime they got you, desperate in their own as they devoured you everytime but the nonsexual moments were favorable too; following daryl on his hunting trips, making dinner together (realistically him just watching you), cuddling after a long day (you carelessly draped over his body) but the nature of these began to fade after a while.
daryl found himself alone most of the day, finding your presence absent until night falls and your crumbling into bed, fast asleep before he could tell you goodnight.
questioning you on your whereabouts wasn’t something daryl could ever see himself doing, you were an adult, independent and fully capable of taking care of yourself- that didn’t mean he couldn’t bully it out of others.
the resulting answer falling to one culprit: rick.
the leader having you do aimless tasks with him, following him around the community, taking you on runs- anything that required you to be right next to him.
daryl didn’t feel an inkling of anything.. until you showed up with a hickey on your neck. that, is when he began to become frustrated with ricks clingy behavior.
he didn’t mind sharing you, truthfully it didn’t feel so much like that, he could see the equal love you had for both of them and he cares for rick the same way he cared for you; it was no competition, they were both lucky to be with you.
but this felt.. isolating.
something he has felt many times before and even unintentional, it still hurt- which only pissed him off more because he was shit at handling his feelings.
so he backed off, finding himself outside the walls more, avoiding rick, avoiding you. it was the hardest thing he has had to do but if was going to lose you either way, he’d rather chose the option of leaving first, hoping it will hurt less when you confront him.
except you don’t, you never plan too and although he is the master of reading people- he seemed to have forgotten just how well you had learned to read him after years together.
the distance he puts between you all is his safety net for the pain he awaits.
you know that and it’s something you bring up to rick. it takes little convincing to get him to agree to your plan, knowing that it will take what you guys have to a new level but daryl needed this, he needed to know that he was still wanted.
you laid propped up by the pillows in bed, dressed in another one of his shirts and lace panties again. nothing riled him up more than the simplicity of you in his clothes. having snuck in the room after he went into the shower, you waited, listening to the soft sounds of the water flowing and shuffling of his movements.
with the water shut off, you grew anxious as he took his time drying off but it was only a couple seconds later he was stepping out the bathroom, steam pouring from the room to cloud around him.
he froze upon seeing your figure on the bed, giving you enough time to take in his still glistening naked body covered in just a towel.
swallowing the lump in your throat, you sat up to your knees before settling back on your haunches, nails digging into your thighs in anticipation, “hi”
a look of confusion crosses his face as he looks at you, “wha’s goin’ on?”
it pains you to see him so bewildered by your presence in your own home, in your guys’ bed- you stand and grab his hand, leading him to sit on the edge while you stand between his legs.
he keeps his hands in his lap as yours run through his wet hair, brushing through the tangles to the best of your ability before a particularly hard tug as his head falling back, eyes meeting yours.
“you’ve been avoiding me..” the dejected tone lingers heavy in your words, his hands immediately coming to rest over the back of your thighs soothingly. his eyebrows furrowing at the mere sound of you in any form of pain, “it’s okay. know you were just hurt” daryl doesn’t bother denying the sentiment, choosing instead to keep himself occupied with the hem of your (read: his) shirt until your next words spill from your lips, “but.. we wanted to make it up to you”
his head snaps up to you, eyes shifting around your face before moving to the door, where rick has appeared leaning against the frame. your head turns, smiling brightly at the other man and holding out a hand in his direction.
you spin around, pressing back into daryl but giddily waiting for rick to meet you guys. the idea of having them both here- together, it was nerve racking but so very exciting too.
you reach a hand back to grab daryls, squeezing in question, you’d never want to make him uncomfortable. he squeezes back, his other hand wrapping around your thigh and pulling you further into his body until you collapse into his lap- just in time for rick to reach you both.
he stands fully clothed infront of both of you, looking down as you both gazed up at him, stance reeking nothing short of leadership.
rick reaches a hand out, cupping your chin roughly, “did you apologize?” you still in daryls lap at the question, shaking your head in response to which rick tsks at, “use your words”
“no, i haven’t apologized.. sir”
it wasn’t like you weren’t submissive to daryl, but it normally took you a little bit to get to this point- clearly it was not the same for the leader who knows just how to handle people.
rick motions at daryl, stepping back so you could stand and kneel before him. once settled, you look up at him with a dazed expression, lost in a haze of premature pleasure, “i’m sorry..”
“for?” rick growls as he grips your hair, pulling your head back some and the delicious sting it brings has you dropping your jaw in a quiet gasp.
“f-for making you feel alone” rick looks to the other man, waiting for confirmation that all is forgiven but all daryl can do is nod numbly to your watery words. seeing you so out of it, so- wanton, thisclose- was new and while he knows your sex life was amazing, this was something else as his heart beats heavily in his ears.
“good girl” you whimper at ricks praise, his hand soothing over your scalp for a second before he squats to your level. lips near your ear as he forces your head to look at daryl, both of you taking in the heavy lifting of his flushed chest, “now, why don’t you show him how sorry you are?”
your eyes plead with daryl, desperate to make it right and when has he ever denied you?
your hands fly up to rip the towel off, revealing his swollen cock that has been throbbing painfully since he first saw you. you squeeze your thighs together at the sight of his mushroomed head that’s nearly purple and the pulsing decorative blue vein down his shaft.
rick has since moved to stand back against the wall, watching as you lean forward to take daryl into your mouth, “know you can take more than that”
daryl grips the edge of the bed, back slouching as your sweet mouth encompasses his cock even more. he can’t help the throaty groan he releases as you hum happily around him.
“fuck baby” he prides himself as an observer but with the heated gaze of rick on you both, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the attention a little bit. your head bops faster as you wet his cock more, drooling messily over him and helping make your movements more seamless. your hand drops to roll his balls with your fingers, the heaviness of them makes you wetter, knowing he was so turned on and ready to burst at any moment. it only encourages you further, slowing the bopping of your head to allow your tongue to swirl all over his cock, hollowing your cheeks around his dribbling head, “‘m gonn’ come, fuck” with your hand wrapping back around the length you can’t fit it your mouth, it takes no time for his hips to jerk, cock twitching roughly in your mouth as his cum slips easily down your throat. one hand finds it’s way onto the back of your head, holding you close as curses fall repeatedly from his mouth.
when he releases you, you gasp for air upon lifting from his cock, chest heaving heavily as you sit back and gaze up at him with glassy eyes, a mix of spit and cum on your chin that he swipes away with his thumb before pressing it onto your tongue. your lips wrap around the digit, tongue swirling and cheeks sucking it in more. he shakes his head at your ministrations, “never ‘nough fo’ ya, hm? always need somethin’ in yer mouth”
“she’s greedy” rick pipes up as he approaches you both again.
you release daryls finger, a pout heavy on your lips as you look up at rick, “am not”
both of them can’t help but smile at your indignant tone, making quick eye contact in silent conversation as rick pulls you up from the floor and daryl shuffles back up the bed.
“know you’re not, just like teasing you” rick brushes some hair out of your face, feet moving forward until your pressing into the bed and crawling your way to lay with your back to daryls chest.
“not very nice sir” you fiddle with daryls fingers, lying heavily against him as you face the other man.
“it’s not, is it?” ricks teasing tone makes you frown until he too, climbs onto the bed, making to grab your feet and sending you into a fit of giggles at the playful act, “how should i make it up to you?” your eyebrows raise at the question, knees knocking together bashfully until rick is gripping your ankles and pulling your legs down, “don’t hide now, angel” you blush beautifully, squirming against daryl as rick places himself between your thighs, “this where you want me?”
you smile coyly before bringing daryls hand to your mouth, nibbling on his knuckles to quell some of your growing excitement. rick doesn’t press for a verbal answer, impatient himself on getting his mouth on you- something he hasn’t done yet.
rick wraps an arm around one your thighs, his beard skimming lightly over the smooth surface. the ticklish sensation causing your leg to twitch, threatening to close.
“here-“ daryl reaches down, grabbing one of your thighs and holding it open, “sensitive lil’ thing.. gonn’ try suffocating ya the minute ya get yer mouth on ‘er”
“not a bad way to go” rick shares a smirk with him before pressing light kisses all around your aching cunt, teasing you until you release an impatient whine at his games.
he doesn’t reprimand you, he too, losing patience as he pulls your panties to the side; slick sticking to the lace and causing all three of you to release some noise of wanton.
not wasting anymore time, rick swipes his tongue from your dripping hole to your swollen clit. you release a gasp at the simple movement, thighs threatening to close but held down tightly by both men. he makes for the motion again, your hips bucking when his mouth separates.
it takes a few minutes for rick to build a proper rhythm but with the help of daryl who reads your body like a manual to him- you’re squirming against his mouth; wanting to both run and get closer to the overwhelming pleasure.
“that’s enough” rick pulls back to slap at your thigh, making you squeal at the sudden sting but you don’t think of it much more when he dives back into your cunt.
daryl presses a kiss to the side of your head, the hand not holding tightly to your thigh rubs at your side soothingly for a brief moment.
“rick- ah- daryl-“ it’s hard to form a coherent thought when rick eats you out so well, dipping his tongue into your hole and sucking on your clit, “i’m.. please, i’m so close” you let out a cry of pleasure, sandwiched between your two favorite people.
“tha’s it, sweethear’” daryl coos into your ear, hand lifting your shirt and exposing your bare chest to them; nipples hardening at the cool air. his calloused hand brushes over both of them, the rough texture sending a delicious sensation through your body as you arch your back, hips twitching roughly against ricks mouth, “let ‘im have it”
ricks nose presses heavily into your clit as his tongue messily moves in and out of your pulsating hole, his fingers dig into the meaty parts of your thighs, fighting the urge to reach down and touch himself, doubling down on his efforts to make you come.
the combined forces of their touches had your head spinning, vision incapacitated by colors as you lost control of your breathing. it was all so much, yet not enough and you fought to stay current but lost to the everbuilding pressure in your core. your hands flailed out, searching for something to hold onto as you found yourself nearing your high; daryl grabbed one hand and placed your other on ricks.
“‘s ok.. let go baby” your thighs shake in both mens grip, body thrumming with pure pleasure and a little bit of pain as you attempt to hold off your orgasm; wanting to make this last as long as possible, “we’ve got ya.. jus’ let go fo’ me. see rick, hm? worked so hard, didn’t he? he wants ‘t”
the soft crooning of daryls voice has you finally gasping for air and allowing the flood of euphoria to fill you up before bursting at the seams; your hips shove your soaking cunt closer to rick, thigh ripping from daryls grip to squeeze around the mans’ head that still lies between your legs.
tears stream down your face as you sob, momentarily blurring your vision even more. you brokenly speak nonsense full of their names and gratitude as your hearing deafens; a high pitched ringing resounding loudly through them.
as it dies down, you can hear the soft praises from daryl lift through the piercing sound as his hands squeeze your body; helping you back to earth in a gentle manner. it takes a few moments for you to gather some kind of bearings, wincing in oversensitivity as rick laps at the mess you made. your thigh falls open heavily, letting rick release you but the urge to squeeze them together again is strong as you take in his face; mustache and beard glistening in your slick.
you whimper at the sight and the inability to fully grasp onto reality, your high having left your body heavy and limp.
“sh sh sh” rick hushes you as he sits up, wiping his facial hair as he takes in your current state; clearly pleased to know just how much of a mess he has made of you. his hands move to caress your thigh in admiration but you jerk at the touch, body high on sensitivity.
daryl laughs softly, “nearly ruined our girl”
rick shares an equally fond scoff at the accusation, hands now massaging the exhausted muscles as you blink slowly at him. with the last bit of your orgasm ghosting by, being wrapped in daryls strong arms and the light pressure of ricks fingers over your thighs- you found yourself tired, relaxing your body entirely as you enjoyed the pampering.
the moment remains quiet and with your eyes closed, the soft breathing and light shuffling is the only thing to grace your ears; the perfect white noise to fall asleep too.
“would never have the heart to take her away from you” rick looks up from your legs to daryl; wanting to make sure he knows that it was never his intention.
“i know” and he does, the realization hit him as he directed rick earlier- he was just getting to know you; more so than before. learning all about your many quirks, interests, and desires.
the same way daryl once did.
••
a wave of déjà vu hits him as daryl sits in another lawn chair, surrounded by the community that have come together in another celebration. he can’t be sure who it’s for nor does he really care to find out as of now his attention has been zeroed on your form since you’ve left his side.
you had said something along the lines of getting another drink but the absence of your presence grew past it’s expiration and it was only a matter of time before he was planning on sending a search party out when his eyes fell on your figure.
leaning against a table with a glass in hand, everything would’ve seemed normal, had it not been for the pressing force in the form of a man that stood too close for comfort.
you didn’t seem to mind, illuminating in the afterglow of the man’s compliments and while you offered nothing but your fair share of pleasantries, daryl would have rather you told him to fuck off.
the minutes feel like they stretch for hours as he watches on to the scene, he says something- you laugh. he gloats- you speak. he answers- you laugh again. it’s uselessly repeative and even from daryls spot, it seems rather exhausting even when he can’t hear exactly what the man is saying but surely it can’t be that amusing.
from his relaxed spot among the lawn chair, he catches your eyes for a quick moment before your focusing back on the man. suddenly, your gestures become more exaggerated; your laughter is louder, your eye contact more prominent, and voice sweeter than honey.
it’s pure bait and boy, does the man fall right into it. his demeanor sharpening to solid confidence that damns him immediately as he reaches out to touch you- daryl is seconds from bolting from his seat to prevent such contact from happening but he doesn’t even get the chance too when rick appears out of no where, slipping between the pair and with a solid grip on your bicep- forceing you away from the stunned man who attempts to say something but rick shuts him down with a simple glare. it’s hard not to be pleased by the other mans possessiveness as he storms both of you in his direction, damn near tossing you into daryls lap before saddling in the empty seat next to him.
“rude” you pout and cross your arms defiantly, squirming to get comfortable.
“quite a show ya put on ova there” daryl teasingly says before possessively pulling your body closer to his and despite your bratty behavior, you don’t put up a single fight as you melt into his chest.
“she’ll pay for it later” rick voices from his seat as his leg bounces in mild irritation.
daryl takes it in silently amused, both at your attitude and ricks jealousy; and while your mood was nothing but a bit, annoyance rolled off the mans shoulders.
while daryl holds no qualms to your schemes, he knows rick has yet to learn that your favorite game is cat and mouse but with time, he’ll get it.
after all, he is still getting used to you.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon fic#rick grimes x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader#rick grimes#the walking dead#twd x reader#rickyl#rite4fun#smut
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Please something fourth of july Evie!!! Preferably with fireworks and an Eddie of your choice please!!
I'm choosing rockstar!eddie so enjoy lol
"Stay back," You cooed to Persephone, running a hand over her soft curls, easing her to sit back in her little blue lawn chair. Kensington on your hip, you swayed, face cringing while you watched Eddie in the distance.
"Ed, please be careful!" You called, wincing when you saw him drop the firework he was propping up.
"I got it!" Eddie grumbled back, tongue poking out in concentration. He'd done this a million times. As a teenager, in a shithole town with nothing to do, Eddie and the rowdier Hellfire boys spent a good portion of their free time throwing bottle rockets and fireworks off the abandoned bridge.
California didn't offer very many patriotic holiday options when it came to fireworks. A few spiraling ones of red, white, and blue at the bluff, but nothing compared to the usual show at the Hamptons. You were heavily pregnant, on a travel ban until the twins arrived by order of your doctors, and staying in California for the summer. Eddie knew how much the girls loved the fireworks, always sitting in his lap on the dock to watch them, little earphones covering their ears, eyes wide and cooing with each color. He couldn't let them be disappointed. So he found a firework stand in East LA and came home proudly with them.
You were worried the HOA might come bitch you out, or worse... Eddie loses a finger.
"Do the fireworks!" Persephone giggled, bouncing in her little chair. The girls had already gone through their sparklers, twirling them carefully while you and Eddie hovered to make sure they didn't burn each other.
Kensington cackled, squealing in equal excitement while Eddie smirked, lighting the wick and jogging back. "You ready? Ready Sephy, can you see?" You cooed, placing a hand on the back of her head gently.
The squeal of the firework launching before it took off in a rather diagonal approach. Eddie's once proud smile fell, your own face dropping watching as the firework exploded right above your neighbor's palm trees.
"Shit, shit, shit," Eddie muttered, tensing when a palm tree singed, embers floating down onto the grass.
Persephone and Kensington squealed at the explosions of light, even low and completely off targeted. Your eyes flared, glaring at Eddie. "Oh, wow." You feigned excitement through gritted teeth. "Sephy hold your sister for just a second ok? I'm gonna go help Daddy." You cooed.
Eddie cringed, watching you approach- waddle, furious and seething.
"Princess, please, I didn't mean for it to-"
"-That's it. I told you not to do them here. We'll take them down to Malibu tomorrow for the show, but you are done. You almost set their fucking house on fire." You seethed, low and cutting.
Eddie just nodded, a little too worried to get you worked up to argue. "I'm sorry, baby, the wind-"
You glared at him, turning on your heel. "Wasn't that so fun?" You cooed to the girls. "Let's go inside and pack for tomorrow, ok? We'll go to the beach tomorrow."
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4th of July Headcanons with my favorite boys:
Characters included: Lance Sweets, Seeley Booth, Jack Hodgins, Dean winchester, Castile, Derek shepherd, Mark Sloan, Owen hunt, Carlisle Cullen, Emmett Cullen, Eleazar Denali, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Draco malfoy.
A/n: I am working on your guys request that was in my inbox but it being 4th of July weekend not much is gonna be posted or worked on till the end of the week just know I'm working on them.
BONES:
Lance Sweets:
I don't even know if Fireworks are legal in DC, but if they are you guys pretty much go all out.
Suprisenly, Lance likes anything loud so you guys go through a lot of firecrackers and bottle rockets.
If your not lighting up those your probably watching your friends' children and lighting the kiddy stuff with them.
He likes smoke bombs too, he'll light them in Booth's direction so all the colorful smoke blows on him.
He probably got you guys matching outfits for the day, but it's not like the cringy type of stuff some couples do. He'll just have red, white, and blue plaid shorts and a plane white shirt and you'd have the feminine version of his shorts with a cute American flag tank top.
Then to end the night you'll be cuddled up together on a blanket watching the night time fireworks.
Seeley Booth:
Seeley is a military man, so fourth of July is kinda his thing. The flags, cook outs, the fireworks, everything.
He likes anything loud or over the top, but nothing thst could harm you or Parker.
He still likes to spoil you guys with any type of firework or snack you want.
Your kinda the mother of your group of friends so you and Seeley are in charge of the grill. You guys have fun grilling a bunch of hamburgers and hot dogs while jamming out to music.
He'd invite his brother and some of his old army buddies, so you'd probably end up meeting them.
You and Parker have a lot of fun lighting up Roman candles.
You guys are in charge of all the big night time fireworks.
Jack Hodgins:
Homemade fireworks for days, you guys probably spend the week before experimenting and creating different things.
Cam quickly got tired of all the explosions and smoke coming out of your guys lab.
“it worked! We definitely got to make more of those”
You guys are pyromaniacs, but that doesn't mean you guys aren't responsibl. Jack would never handle or light anything recklessly that could harm you.
The home made smoke bombs are a big hit at get-together with your friends. Parker and Christine were very much impressed.
Sharing a lawn chair while the night fireworks are going off.
Supernatural:
Dean Winchester:
It's a normal, all-American day so Dean just wants to celebrate it with his family. It doesn't matter what your doing as long as it's not fighting God or hunting.
Just to mess with Sam you guys will wake him up early on the 4th by lighting a bunch of firecrackers in a pot next to his bed.
He'll grill up the best burgers in the world for the occasion.
If you guys dont want to leave the bunker that day you'd spend the whole day playing board games.
Later that night you and Dean would sneak away and lay on the hood of the Impala to watch the fireworks everyone eles is shooting up into the sky.
Sam Winchester:
Sam could really care less about the celebration, he really doesn't care about any holidays if were being honest, but if you want to have some fun he'll do it just he can see you smile.
He has fun just watching you, Dean, and Jack have fun. He'll just set there and laugh as you Chace Dean around with a sparkler.
Let's just say Dean found a lake and you guys spend most of they day fishing and swimming.
Even if he's around gunshots every day I think the artillery stuff will get old for him, so he'll go into the bunker and let you and the others have fun.
After Dean and Castile get tired and stop blowing stuff up he'll come out and rost marshmallows with you.
Castiel:
He just doesn't understand the fascination, so it's yours and Dean's job to show just how fun the day is.
Get ready to always pull him away before something explodes in his face, he'll light it and not back away.
Even if something exploding in his hand won't hurt it still freaks you out.
You get excited to show him all your favorite fireworks you use to get when you were a kid.
Even if he still doesn't get the fascination, he still loves having fun with you.
Grey's anatomy:
Derek Shepherd:
So there would probably be a big cliche BBQ with all your doctor buddies at the Shepherd home.
You guys are literally praying that you won't get called into the hospital because someone blew their fingers off.
You and Derek cooking up a big feast on the grill for all your buddies while the kids run around with Snappers and sparklers.
You mostly just make sure the kids don't hurt themselves and just lounge around with your female friends.
You and Derek will light a few things like smoke bombs or bottle rockets, but only if someone asks you to join in on the fun.
You guys just look forward to the night time fireworks. You guys usually spend a unreasonable amount a money on artillery, but it's worth it when night time comes and you put on the show.
Mark Sloan:
Let's be honest, he's spending most of the day making sure you or Sophia don't hurt yourself. He'd wrap you guys in bubble wrap if you guys would let him.
Anyway, like Derek you guys are hoping you don't get called into the hospital. Trauma and Plastic surgeons are automatically put on speed dial.
You spend most of your day helping Sophia light all the kiddy stuff and making sure she doesn't get hurt.
After you make sure she's safe you held Jackson 'terrorize' Mark with Snappers.
Owen Hunt:
So you guys would probably be running the grill most of the time, it doesn't bother you guys because you love cooking together.
Like the other two, your just praying the hospital doesn't call you, you guys are both trauma surgeons. But if the fireworks get too much for him he'll be relived to go for a bit.
Speaking of which if were talking about early Owen hunt the fireworks and booms might bother him, if so you'd guys will just go home and watch your favorite movies.
But later seasons Owen will have a lot of fun jut watching night time fireworks with you, laying on a blanket cuddle up with each other and watching all the pretty lights.
Twilight:
Carlisle Cullen:
He spends most of the holiday at the hospital, Charlie keeps sending drunk teens with burned hands and blowing up fingers to the hospital.
You don't mind, it's his job and he can't help the stupidy of the teens at Forks.
Emmett and Jasper keep you entertained.
So if your human he's watching you like a hawk. After the the acadents he seen at the hospital evolving fireworks he's scared your gonna get hurt.
This is just an anxiety filled day for him. He doesn't really calm down till night time when the whole family is on the porch watching fireworks.
Emmett Cullen:
You guys are just an unstoppable force of nature and you can't be trusted with fire.
Since your both vampires your not very safe when to comes to explosives.
Your having the time of your lives though.
He'll hold lit smoke bombs in his hands and chace Jasper and Alice around.
You guys have water gun wars too.
Your day is full of laughter and fun, you guys are being so childish and it's so much fun.
Eleazar Denali:
You live in Alaska so your blowing up a snowman with Garrett no matter what anyone says.
He's very much a serious person so he's not gonna do much unless you drag him with you to have fun.
After you crack his shel he's having a lot a fun with you.
If your not spending your holiday in Alaska, your spending it at the Cullen's.
After he humors you with a couple of firecrackers he'll set down and watch you have fun with the Denali sisters.
At night he'll love to just hold you in his arms and watch the fireworks in the sky.
Harry Potter: - I understand the UK doesn't celebrate the 4th of July but this is just for fun
George Weasley:
Big firework sale at the shop and you guys get to test out every new product(it's the best part).
You love flying around on your brooms throwing fireworks around.
Big cook out at the burrow with the whole family and all your hogwarts friends.
Molly always shouting at you to be careful, if you get hurt or maybe slightly burned George will stop everything and make sure your okay.
Even if it's not the safest of smartest thing in the world you and the twins are chancing each other with sparklers.
You and the twins put on the biggest firework show, it was even bigger than the one they put on when they left hogwarts.
Fred Weasley:
You guys are pretty similar to George expect 10 times worse. You guys can be flat out dangerous and it gives molly gray hairs.
Of corse you spend most of the week around the holiday selling fireworks at the shop, but at night you'll close up shop early and watch a firework show neair by.
He'll create a firework especially for you and it'll be the biggest one he's ever made.
Colors, sound, and size are very important to you guys when your making or buying fireworks.
Like George if you get hurt he'll stop everything to make sure your okay, he'd probably make you set down for a bit and drink water just to be sure.
Night fireworks are the best part and you guys never disappoint your audience.
Draco Malfoy:
This man just doesn't see the fascination, nor dose your families. If you want to have fun you have to drag him to a party your friends are putting on.
Even then he'll just sit somewhere and watch you have fun with your friends.
He doesn't mind though, it makes his day to hear you laugh and see you smile.
I don't think he'd like all the loud noises though, especially after the battle of Hogwarts, so if it gets too bad you guys will go inside listen to music till he calms down.
Dispite the loud noises he loves watching the night fireworks, he loves the colors and the lights. To quite the noise he'll either wear ear plugs or press his ear to your chest while your laying in the grass.
#BONES#Lance Sweets#Lance Sweets x reader#Seeley Booth#Seeley Booth x reader#Supernatural#Dean winchester#Dean winchester x reader#Sam Winchester#Sam Winchester x reader#Castiel#Castiel x reader#Greys anatomy#Derek shepherd#Derek shepherd x reader#Harry Potter#George Weasley#George Weasley x reader#Fred Weasley#Fred Weasley x reader#Draco malfoy#Draco malfoy x reader#Headcanons#4th of july#Fireworks
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ultrakill headcanons
The way the feedbacker parrying works is kinda like a spring or a trampoline. It receives kinetic energy, and bounces back with even more force. The reason why parried projectiles explode is because the hell energy orb gets cracked from being punched (the arm's still metal mind you), making it unstable and volatile.
Since willpower and how you're remembered after you die is what decides how your husk will look, filths are probably nobodies that people forgot about, strays had more impact on the world but are weak-willed, stalkers had a strong will but left little to no mark on the world, and insurrectionists are probably billionaires that hoard their wealth thats why thehy so beeg and are in greed layer. the other husks we already kinda know how they work
V1 blasts the game's soundtrack in the areas where it plays. imagine just being suffering in hell, like usual, and suddenly you're hearing altars of apostasy blast at full volume rapidly getting louder and louder as this robot guy rides a rocket towards you
V1 isn't just soulless in his slaughter, he's downright malicious and toys with his prey. when V1 beat V2 for the first time, he could've easily stomped V2 out while he was on the ground recovering after the final hit (see V2's defeat animation in the first fight), but V1 let him go so he could have a little fun and fight him later. The same goes for Gabriel in both of his fights when he was down doing his little defeat monologue. Corpse of King Minos and Leviathan weren't spared because they're animalistic and not sentient. They'd be no fun to spare and fight again to watch them suffer (also V1 had to kill them off completely to go to next layer). V1 doesn't just kill you, he enjoys killing you.
hell is human shaped. each layer is a part of hell's body and you're going down its body. limbo is up in the brain somewhere (get it cause it's up in the clouds), lust is in the vocal chords because you use those to speak filthy horny words, gluttony is in the stomach (obviously) and the big heart you see in 3-2 at gabe's arena is hell's big heart. not minos's. fuck minos i hate that guy. then greed is in the fucking, uh, gallbladder or some shit. wrath is in the regular bladder (not gall) and also 5-1 is in a kidney i think. that why its in a cave. hell got kindey stones problem. heresy is in the intestines (the reason why there is so much red is because hell had spicy mexican food yesterday he got diahrreah). violence is in the balls that's why there's white everywhere. fraud is in the knees cause scammers deserve to have their kneecaps broken, and trachery is in the feet because.
somewhere, out there, exists a filth with arms called Jerry. angels found him to be a funny guy so they let him sit in his lawn chair in a patio made for him see image below
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Flame : D.R.W
Minors DNI 🔞sexual content, graphic content, oral (m receiving), rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, nothing too bad this time
Word Count: 1,512
You decide to finish off Danny’s 4th of July weekend with a bang! Sneaking away from a flaming firework display, you and Danny disregard the volume of your salacious acts behind the locked door of your holiday getaway.
Author’s Note: Just in the nick of time for the 4th! Sorry it was last minute and probably shit, but the idea had great potential! Hope you enjoy anyway!
‘A blessed holiday weekend’ you type an Insta caption. The post consists of photos of the lake, festive parade, yummy food, and loved ones! The boys’ families made a trip down to Nashville and friends congregated to celebrate the 4th at a cabin Danny and the boys rented outside the city. In preparation, Danny and Sam purchased an illegal amount of fireworks, Josh and Jake stockpiled enough booze to give the whole state of Tennessee alcohol poisoning, and everyone else chipped in to make a feast! You click ‘post’, slip your phone back in your pocket, and settle down into your chair.
You place your hand in Danny’s lap and he gently grasps it while smiling over at you with kind eyes. He’s slumped back in a lawn chair, amused by Sam frantically working on lighting an elaborate grid of fuses for his firework display. You also chuckle at the sight. While the anticipation builds, you glance over at Danny once more. He’s been wearing his hat backwards lately, and something about that drives your mind to wild places. His chestnut curls are tucked behind his ears, pronouncing his stunning profile. While kids in school made fun of his prominent nose, you couldn’t complain… as it always feels so good nudging against your clit. His biceps glisten with a thin layer of sweat in the faint porch light; the humidity is unbearable most days, but it did leave Danny shimmering like a God… which you rather enjoy. A smirk spreads across his face as he continues to watch Sam.
“What a fool,” he chuckles before taking a drink of his seltzer and turning his attention to you.
You’re beaming as your cheeks flush over. He totally caught you checking him out. How did that slightly embarrass you after all this time? He slightly squeezes your hand, getting you out of your head.
“What’s up?” He questions non assumingly.
You raise your eyebrows and grin behind your lips. “Nothing. I can’t check you out?” You respond with a tinge of tease in your voice.
“By all means,” he encourages. “It’ll even things out.”
“What do you mean by that?” You ask with perplexation while lifting your eyebrow.
Danny leans into your ear. “I’ve been envisioning your body on top of me all fucking weekend,” he whispers while placing your hand over his shorts.
You feel how hard he is for you. Looking down, he’s practically bulging out of his shorts; so noticeable you could see it from across the lake. As much as you yearned for him, you are in the midst all his family and friends! You withdraw your hand quickly and widen your eyes at him as a warning. He’s still… unsure of your next move. Without fail, a slight smirk spreads across your face. You can never hold your ground with him.
“Ah! You pull away, but you like it,” he rasps toward you before sitting back in his chair, taking another swig.
So many emotions are running through your head, culminating to feelings pooling in your cunt. You know you shouldn’t be turned on by his behavior, but it’s too tempting. He’s been so busy with touring, promoting, and rehearsals it’s left little time to satisfy each other. And here, of all places, is where your conscious decides to act on them. ‘Impeccable timing’ you think to yourself. Meanwhile, Sam successfully lights his fuses, sending the line sizzling. He saunters away, surely proud of his impending spectacular. Quicker than anticipated a beam of glowing red Strontium rockets into the sky behind his head. He ducks down, clutching his ears, and giggles while running to his seat. In the excitement, now that everyone is entertained, you pull Danny out of his chair, around the porch, and into the nearest entrance of the cabin. Rushing him to your weekend bedroom, he quickly catches onto your plan. Once in the room, you lock the door, drop to your knees and begin untying the draw string of his shorts.
“Oh fuck,” he groans as you handle his cock.
Wasting no time, you spit on it and begin sucking him hastily. You look up at his reaction. He drags his hand from his brow to his chin, moaning all the way. He peers down at you too. Oh, does he love seeing you so needy for him. Running his tongue over his bottom lip, he revels in the sight of your lips wrapped around his length. His face furrows and his jaw hangs limp as you purse your lips around the tip, then take him so deep you can tend to his balls with your tongue. He lets out a deep growl. Normally you would place your hand over his mouth, – you’ve had too many experiences silencing him when his family is in the next room – but tonight there was no need. The pyrotechnics mask his vulgar sounds. His neck retches back. You know you have him close already. His hands cup your face, and he pulls you off his dick. He grips your forearms and pulls you to your feet; kissing you with intense passion and slipping his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours. He guides you over to the bed and pushes you over it; the perfect height for him to slip himself inside of you. He scrambles to pull your shorts and panties off, massaging your voluptuous ass once he’s exposed you. As his dick plows into your tight cunt; you lurch forward. Deep within, a whiny moan travels up your throat and echoes out into the room. He chuckles.
“Hmm. Did you miss my cock?” He questions already knowing your answer. He just needs to hear you say it.
“Yes, Danny!” You coo back at him.
“That’s right,” he grunts.
He grips onto your hips and thrusts rhythmically into you. With every pulse you let out a choppy moan, which turns him on even more. He bears down and pushes harder. His groans are deeper than normal. More needy and chuffing. You bury your face into the quilt, sinking your teeth into the material to fight off a premature high. You want to ride it as long as you can. When you finally do raise your head for air, you have a perfect view of the fireworks out the window. You chuckle and lay your head back down.
“What the fuck is so funny?” Danny groans.
“Nothing. Just getting dicked down with a view here,” you chuckle once more.
He pumps into you even harder, clearly not interested in anything outside of what his dick is in. He softly moans obscenities and remarks how tight your pussy is. You grip the sheets and coax him to climax with your sultry voice as colorful reflections adorn your skin in the dark room. The harder and deeper he goes inside of you, the closer your core comes to melting over him. His nails dig into your skin and trace down your back. You jump and wince, but the slight pain is invigorating. He knows how that jumpstarts you heart and races you to cum. Your legs begin to quiver. Your stomach knots up. Every muscle in your body tenses for a moment before your brain tells you to let go.
“I’m ready to cum for you, Daniel!” You shout.
You are met with encouraging noises. He pumps faster, attempting to match you with his release, but you are already edged. You take a deep breath and force yourself to give in. The knot in your stomach dissipates and all comes flooding through your pussy. You whimper and cry into the mattress as Danny fills you with his cum. The both of you pant over each other; strands of hair sticking to your faces, and bodies slick with sweat. He pumps slowly as he comes off his high, readjusting to his original size. When he finally pulls out, your body can unwind. You pick yourself up from the bed and greet him with a cheeky smile. He places his strong hands on each side of your head, combing down your disheveled hair.
“You are such a slut,” he whispers with a chuckle.
You stick your tongue out at him and smirk. He smiles and taps your cheek, letting you know he appreciates your sick humor. Jumping up from the bed, you pull your bottoms back on as if nothing happened, so does he. To avoid making a scene of the unholy acts you just committed, you sneak your way back out to your lawn chairs just in time as Sam’s display comes to an end. Everyone cheers and applauds the show, especially you and Danny. Sam stumbles over to Danny, nearly falling into his lap. He slaps his shoulder and takes a sloppy drink from his Topo Chico.
“Where did you two run off to?! You missed the whole deal here!” He exclaims.
“We didn’t miss a thing!” You reassure him while shooting a wink toward Daniel.
“You two are something freaky,” Sam chuckles as he swaggers off into the night.
Taglist: @llightmyllovee @hayley1623 @alisonwonderland29 @letswalktogether @sam-i-am-20 @gretavanchaos @mintysammykiszka @why-ami-on-here @jordierama @doodle417 @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting
#gretavanfleet#gretavansmut#gvfsmut#gretavanfleetfic#gvffanfiction#maturecontent#danny wagner#dannygvf#dannywagnerfic#danielrobert
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Oooooo
Part 2 of my poll is here!
This post does have spoilers for Guardians of the galaxy vol 3 and what happens to Peter so keep that in mind while reading!
Rocket x fem!reader x Quill
Yard Work
Warnings: SMUT, a little plot this time, causal hooking up, threesome with a raccoon, spelling mistakes, dirty talk, praise, Quill and rocket banter, pussy slapping (like once), little bit of aftercare, cum eating,
The situation was already a mess before Peter's friend, Rocket got involved.
Your neighbor Mr. Quill's grandson had finally come home, he was a handsome man which you met at his welcoming home party.
You weren't sure if it was the beer you had shared, or the flirty banter, or maybe because it felt so wrong, but you'd ended up bent over the bathroom sink that night.
You two weren't dating, nothing close to it. You both had a silent understanding that this was simply, mind numbing, fantastic sex.
Things got awkward when he was hired to mow your mother's lawn (yes you lived at home, you'd just graduated and hadn't saved up enough money to buy your own place yet). And what made the situation worse is that your older brother would simply sit outside and watch him do it.
"Lazy ass," You mumbled, watching him from the window, seeing him relax with a beer while Peter did all the work.
And work he did. In the hot morning sun, wearing tight jeans that hugged his thick ass and thighs, thin gray t-shirt drenched in sweat. Halfway through the yard, he pulled his shirt off, but in the hot way where he reached above his head, pulling at the back of his collar.
He had a gorgeous chest, large and firm muscles with a bit of chair between his pecks and a happy trail that you desperately wanted a taste of.
As Peter put the lawn mower back in the garage, you met him there and let him take you against the hood of your brothers car.
Two weeks later, Peter was back to get the backyard this time. You had a tray with three glasses of lemonade and as you opened the back door, you caught the tail end of an argument.
Your brother rolled his eyes, stomping past you inside. Peter - shirtless - standing next to the mower with his hands on his hips.
"Peter, what happened?"
He sighs, opening his mouth, but a third voice answers.
"Your brother has shit manners," To your shock, a raccoon was leaning against the side of the mower.
"Y/n, this is one of my buddies, Rocket. Rocket this Y/n," He gestures between us.
"So this is the pretty Betty you've been fucking on the side?" Rocket's eyes scan your body, little crop top and booty shorts.
"Rocket!" Peter groaned, making a face that clearly said he wasn't supposed to say that.
You laugh, coming down the steps and holding out the lemonade. "I brought drinks, would either of you like one?"
The next half hour moved faster than you'd ever imagine. Now in your room on all fours on your bed, sucking off Peter while Rocket railed you from behind.
"Damn, Quill," He groaned, nails digging into your hips, his smacking against yours with an inhuman speed. "Thought you were lying about how good Earth pussy was,"
You moaned around Peter's cock, you loved how he talked like you weren't there. You sucked harder, flicking your tongue against his head. Watching him stifle a moan, threading his hands into your hair.
"Wait till you feel how she clenches around you when you cum,"
You moan, eyes rolling back as you remember the several times Peter hadn't pulled out, letting his cum drip down your legs as you rushed to the bathroom to clean it up. Thank god for birth control.
"Oh, I'm not even gonna think about that until, this pretty girl cums on my cock," He leans over your back, pressing his wet nose to your ear. "Is that what you want? To cum on my cock? A complete stranger you just met today pounding and breeding this pretty pussy?"
Your body was sweaty and flushed a bright red, your eyes watering with the large cock in your throat.
Rocket's hand scratched your soft skin as it traveled from your hips down around to your clit, pinching the bean between his fingers.
You squealed around Peter's cock, making him gasp and moan, his thighs tensing and chest flushing. Rocket massaged you clit in rough hard squeezes, making your body buck against his, you felt the band tightning in your core, pulling and pulling.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Quill whines, panting loudly.
"Figured you'd last longer than that, Quill," Rocket grunted loudly, snapping his hips harder into you. "But if her pussy feels good I can only imagine her mouth,"
He nips your ear, pulling hard enough to hurt. "Cum," He growls, pulling his hand back and smacking your pussy with his open palm, directly hitting your clit.
You scream, honest to god scream as your orgasm rips through you, your eyes rolling back, jaw dropping open. Peter moans loudly, pulling out of you mouth, stroking himself in quick short thrusts and cumming all over your mouth and cheeks.
"Fuck," He pants, taking a step back to sit down on the edge of the bed.
Rocket nails dig into your hips again, your knees starting to hurt from being this way for so long.
"Rocket," You moan.
"I know, Princes, I know, I'm gonna cum, don't worry, you'll get my cum," He moans, his hips smacking against yours. One of his hands moves to your upper back, pressing your face down into your comforter.
"Shit," Rocket gritted as you squeeze his cock when he plunged into your sopping depths. "I'm gonna cum," With three final pumps, he groans loud and long, filling your pussy, some of it spilling out and dripping onto your thighs and blanket.
Rocket pulls out, panting heavily. Peter got up, walking to your bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth. He gently wipes his cum from your face, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"You alright?" You nod, dazed, giving him a firm kiss.
"Here," Peter folds the washcloth to the clean side and offers it to Rocket.
"What's that for?" He pants, sweat making his fur stick up in all different directions.
"For your cum,"
Rocket scoffs and you feel him move. You move your knees to take the cloth from Peter and do it yourself when Rockets tounge is suddenly licking at your thighs,
"Rocket-what're you-"
He drags it up the sensitive skin, making you moan and your legs shake. Then he's at your pussy, licking and sucking his cum out of you like he's in the desert and you're the first drink he's had in months.
He's relentless, making you sweaty and overstimulated, body shaking and trembling as you cum again on his tongue, screaming into your blankets.
"That good enough for ya?" Rocket sasses at Quill, using the back of his arm to wipe away your mess.
Peter rolls his eyes, sitting down on the bed next to you. You finally had the strength to roll over onto your stomach, looking up at the ceiling with a wide grin.
"Is there anything you need?" He brushes a hand over your hair, pushing it behind your ear.
Rocket leans over, both men, panting, looking sexed out and very handsome.
"Yes," You laugh. "For this to happen again,"
@aliasrocket @caesarhamato22 @m1dnyt3-w0lf
#HAHAHAHHAHA#self indulgent work right here *slaps post*#going through my hoe phase right now dont worry bout it#guardians of the galaxy#guardians of the galaxy imagine#gotg#gotg imagine#guardians of the galaxy vol 2#guardians of the galaxy vol 2 imagine#gotg2#gotg2 imagine#guardians of the galaxy vol 3#guardians of the galaxy vol 3 imagine#gotg3#gotg3 imagine#peter quill#star lord#peter quill x reader#rocket raccoon#rocket raccoon x reader#it is my works
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Endgame (Chapter Five)
Summary: Alongside Bruce and Rocket, (Y/N) travels to New Asgard to recruit Thor and after a nerve-wracking but successful time travel test, the Avengers decide to move onto the next phase of planning their time heist.
Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader
Word Count: 4.7k
Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a scene depicting unhealthy coping mechanisms and grief disorders
A/N: This was a tough chapter to write and I’m sure that it won’t be easy to read, so here’s a little heads-up for you before you begin (and you might wanna grab a tissue or two btw). Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Five (Previous Chapter)
“Sunshine, are you sure you’ll be okay in New Asgard?” Steve suddenly asked, his brows furrowed in worry as he watched (Y/N) sling the strap of her overnight bag onto her shoulder and anxiously twisted his gold wedding band around his finger. “Thor could barely look at you after he killed Thanos, much less speak to you. You’ve got such a big heart, (Y/N), but I just…I don’t wanna see you get your hopes up for nothing and wind up getting burned for it.”
Touched by her husband’s concern, (Y/N) smiled and reached up to cup his smooth cheek. “I’ll be okay, sweetheart. I’ll have Bruce and Rocket with me for moral support, and I have complete faith that the three of us working together can convince Thor to help us out.” Her fingers moved to hold his chin as she stood on her tiptoes and softly kissed his lips. “I love you.”
Steve gave her another, much-longer kiss of his own, the corners of his azure eyes crinkling when he finally pulled away and smiled down at her. “I love you too, baby. Good luck.”
As (Y/N) made her way out of the Avengers Facility, she was greeted by Nebula and Rhodes, who had just arrived to begin helping Tony construct the new Quantum Tunnel he designed; since she knew that her furry traveling companion would begin growing impatient soon, she gave them both a brief hug and farewell wave before hurrying outside the compound.
“That’s…a spaceship…” Scott numbly remarked from one of the outdoor benches, a dumbfounded expression on his face as he stared at the Benatar parked in the middle of the compound’s overgrown lawn. “A spaceship flown by a talking raccoon…”
“His name is Rocket, and I recommend not calling him a raccoon to his face; he’s pretty sensitive about it, you see.” Scott arched a bewildered brow but managed a nod, causing (Y/N) to lightly chuckle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Scott. Don’t let the others do anything stupid until I get back, okay?”
“Sure thing, Mrs. America!”
(Y/N) gave Scott a quick fist-bump and trudged across the weed-covered lawn towards the towering spacecraft, where an exasperated Rocket was waiting for her on the steps. “Took you long enough, (Y/L/N)!”
“Hello to you too, Rocket,” She replied, ascending the stairs and pausing to secure her overnight bag in the ship’s lounge before following the raccoon into the flight deck. “How’ve you been?”
“Pretty good, but I thought I was gonna die of old age waitin’ for you to finish smooching Captain Jawline back there goodbye.”
Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at Rocket’s dramatics, (Y/N) held up the lunchbox she’d packed earlier and gave it a little shake. “And here I went to all the trouble of packing you tacos and nachos for the trip. Maybe Bruce will appreciate them more-”
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s not get too hasty now, Professor.” Rocket’s swift backtrack made (Y/N) grin in amusement; she handed the lunchbox over to the raccoon and began strapping herself into the vacant chair in between Bruce and Rocket. “So, time travel? You know, I’ve seen and done a lot of weird shit across the galaxy, but even I didn’t think that time travel was a thing.”
Bruce nodded. “Science has always classified it as a theoretical possibility but up until meeting Scott, it always sounded like it would remain science fiction to me. We’ve got the foundations of a good plan, though, and now that Tony’s back, we’ll figure all the tricky logistics out in no time!”
The spacecraft’s engines roared to life and while they took off into the clear blue sky, (Y/N) only partially listened to her companions’ discussion, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of Thor and what they might be faced with upon their arrival in New Asgard. Over the past five years, she’d done her best to keep in touch with all her super-powered friends and acquaintances, which included Brunnhilde; the fearless Valkyrie established the Asgardian refugees who survived both of Thanos’ attacks a secluded settlement in Tønsberg, Norway, where they founded a flourishing fishing community and slowly acclimated themselves to their new home, and although she’d done her best to keep an eye on Thor, it sounded in her letters that the king of Asgard had fully isolated himself from his people. Steve might end up being right after all, she silently ruminated, I’m one of the last people on Earth he’d ever want to see because I’m a reminder of his self-declared failure.
A small nudge on (Y/N)’s arm brought her back to reality and when she glanced around for its source, she saw that Rocket was holding his Vanished friend Quill’s old Zune out for her to take. During one of their visits to Earth, Nebula told her that one of the reasons Rocket tolerated her company the most was because she reminded him of Quill; they both loved music of all kind and both used music as a coping mechanism since childhood and although he never mentioned a word of it to anyone, Rocket deeply missed his found family and sought out his own unique ways to manage their loss. The raccoon’s eyes were diligently trained on the viewport ahead as he continued piloting the Benatar, but his offering of the distraction of music still touched her. Checking that the outdated device was plugged into the spacecraft’s speakers, she scrolled through the over three-hundred songs downloaded onto it and soon found the one she was searching for, smiling to herself as the comforting tune began to play throughout the flight deck.
“Let me take you on a little trip, my super-sonic ship’s at your disposal if you feel so inclined, well all right. We’re gonna travel faster than light, so do up your overcoat tight and you’ll go anywhere you want to decide, well all right…”
Bruce hummed along to the upbeat song and out of the corner of (Y/N)’s eye, she watched as a rare smile spread across Rocket’s fur-covered face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours later, they landed the Benatar in a vacant field just outside of Tønsberg and hailed the first truck they saw driving down the small country road. The friendly Asgardian fisherman at the wheel allowed the three of them to clamber into the truck bed and drove them past the village border; Bruce was forced to hold his knees to his chest, a grumbling Rocket was crammed in next to (Y/N) and the weighed-down truck bed created sparks each time it scraped against the road but all that combined couldn’t stop her from enjoying the stunning landscape surrounding them. It’s not quite the same as Asgard but it’s a wonderful place to build a new home, she thought to herself, smiling when they turned a corner and got their first glimpse of New Asgard.
Bordering the chilly North Sea, the small city-state of New Asgard was made up of dozens of structures and homes, with modern fishing equipment and delivery trucks lined up along the man-made bay and touches of traditional Asgardian designs in the architecture of its buildings. Asgardians and Sakaarian refugees looked up from their work and watched their truck pass by with curious eyes; with a loud thump against the side by Rocket, they slowed at the pier and the three of them gracelessly clambered out of the truck bed with a quick word of thanks to their driver before he sped away.
“Kind of a step down from the golden palaces and the magic hammers and what not…”
Bruce frowned at Rocket’s callous observation. “Hey, have a little compassion, pal. First they lost Asgard and then half their people, they’re probably just happy to have a home.”
“Besides, the Asgardians don’t consider their home to be lost,” (Y/N) added, pulling the edges of her knit sweater tighter around her as a frigid gust of wind blew. “To them, Asgard’s not a place but a people; wherever they are, Asgard is too.” The raccoon muttered something about mushy sentimentality under his breath and (Y/N) threw a chuckling Bruce an exasperated look.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
The three of them turned to see Brunnhilde standing at the edge of the pier; she was emptying a full fishing trap into a crate and instead of the impressive battle armor of the Valkyrie, she was dressed in the functional clothing of a fisherman with her long dark hair braided away from her face. Contrary to her standoffish words, the Valkyrie stepped forward and met (Y/N) halfway, hugging her tight and giving her a smile when she finally stepped back. “It’s so good to see you again! How’ve you been? It’s great to see that New Asgard’s thriving under your watch.”
“Ah, I’m just the one keeping an eye on things; it’s them who’re making all this actually work.” Brunnhilde’s smile faltered as her dark eyes filled with sympathy. “You said in your letters that you’re doing okay, but…well, I know better than most how easy it is to hide behind those words. Are you all right, (Y/N)? Truly?”
A lump formed in (Y/N)’s throat at the Valkyrie’s concern for her well-being. “I haven’t been, but I think I will be soon.”
“Ah, Valkyrie!” They both glanced over as Bruce approached them with his muscular arms spread wide in welcome. “Great to see you, Angry Girl.”
She studied the scientist’s changed body and bit back a smile. “I think I liked you either of the other ways.”
“This is Rocket.”
Rocket gave her a little wave. “How you doin’?”
If Brunnhilde was surprised to see a talking raccoon casually leaning against one of her fishing crates, then she did a remarkable job hiding it; instead, she pursed her lips and looked between both (Y/N) and Bruce before speaking. “He won’t see you.”
“It’s that bad, huh?” Bruce’s smile fell.
“We only see him once a month, when he comes in for…” Brunnhilde trailed off as she glanced over at a nearby stack of beer-filled kegs. “Supplies.”
(Y/N) felt her heart sink into her stomach at the implications behind her words. “It’s that bad.”
“Yeah.” The Valkyrie crossed her arms over her chest and raised a curious brow. “I take it this isn’t a social call?”
“We think we might’ve found a way to bring everyone back, but we need Thor’s help to do it,” (Y/N) replied, shuffling her feet and giving Brunnhilde a pleading look. “You know that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe that our plan could actually work. We need Thor, that’s true, but maybe he needs us just as much.”
After a long moment, Brunnhilde released a sigh and nodded once. “I suppose if anyone could get through to him, it’s you guys. He lives in a cabin at the far end of the bay; just head down the shoreline, you can’t miss it.”
They thanked her and after promising to keep her informed on the progress of their time heist, the trio walked through New Asgard towards Thor’s secluded home. It was a small cabin, not as large or grand as the other buildings in the village, and much of its exterior showed signs of neglect; with a hesitant glance at (Y/N) and Bruce, Rocket stepped forward and knocked on the wooden front door. When no one answered, the raccoon pushed the door open and stepped inside, and (Y/N) followed close behind; as the scientist ducked to fit through the doorway, she glanced around the cabin’s cluttered entryway at the piles of discarded pizza boxes and liquor bottles and wrinkled her nose when the unmistakable scent of body odor filled her nostrils.
“Whew!” Rocket recoiled in disgust and waved a hand in front of his pointed nose. “Something died in here…”
Bruce looked down at the mess spilling out into the entryway, concern etched across his face as he glanced up and called out, “Hello? Thor?”
“Are you here about the cable?” The Asgardian’s deep voice slurred from the next room. “Cinemax went out two days ago, and the sports are all kinda fuzzy…”
The three of them exchanged a look before making their way into the cabin’s den. Sitting on the dilapidated couch were Korg and Miek, two former Sakaarian gladiators who helped the Revengers defeat Hela and save the Asgardians and who later aided in their escape from Thanos, and they were in the middle of playing a video game on the television in the corner. Their view was blocked by Thor, who was reaching for a bottle of beer from the bowl of ice on the coffee table, and when the three of them entered the den, the Asgardian straightened and turned to face them.
Brunnhilde’s words of warning about Thor’s well-being proved to be an understatement; Thor had gained a considerable amount of weight in the past five years and while that alone wasn’t necessarily a need for concern, his overgrown hair and beard, his wrinkled and stained lounge pants and the overpowering scent of alcohol wafting off of him told (Y/N) that her old friend was in a very dark place and had been for a long time. Her eyes stung with unshed tears but she was quick to blink them away as Thor’s drunken face illuminated with the sight of them and he held his arms out in welcome. “Guys! Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” He gave a stunned Bruce an enthusiastic hug before looking down at Rocket and laughing. “C’mere, you little rascal!”
He enveloped the raccoon in a suffocating embrace that he unsuccessfully tried to escape. “Yeah, no, I’m good, I’m good! This really isn’t necessary!”
Chuckling, Thor finally released him and pulled (Y/N) into a tight hug, enveloping her in a pungent cloud of alcohol. “Writer (Y/L/N)! How’s my favorite writer doing?” He hiccuped and leaned back to examine her. “Ah, just as beautiful as the day I met you. Rogers is a lucky man, indeed!” Before she could think of something to say, he gestured towards the Sakaarian refugees seated on the couch. “You guys know my friends Miek and Korg, right?”
“Hey, guys!” Korg greeted and Miek squeaked as he munched on a slice of pizza. “Beer’s in the bucket. Feel free to log into the Wifi! No password, obviously-” The Kronan cut himself off, holding his headset with one hand and pointing at the television screen with the other. “Thor, he’s back. The kid on T.V. just called me a dickhead again.”
Thor’s mismatched eyes narrowed. “NoobMaster.”
“Yeah, NoobMaster69. Called me a dickhead…”
The Asgardian marched across the den and snatched Korg’s headset, and the three of them watched in bewilderment as he yelled at the child on the other end; Rocket threw (Y/N) and Bruce an unsettled look and with an inward sigh, (Y/N) leaned closer to Bruce and murmured, “He needs help, Bruce, but I don’t think he can get it here.”
Bruce nodded in agreement but before he could reply, Thor turned back around to face them and brandished his unopened beer bottle. “So, do you guys want a drink? What’re we drinking?” He popped the cap off with Stormbreaker’s blade and took a long drink. “Beer, tequila? You seem like a whiskey sort of woman, Writer (Y/L/N)…”
“Buddy…” The scientist took a step forward and rested a cautious hand on Thor’s shoulder. “You all right?”
Thor swayed a little as he chuckled good-naturedly. “Yes, I’m fine! Why? Don’t I look all right?”
“You look like melted ice cream.”
(Y/N) shot Rocket a disapproving glare while the Asgardian snorted in amusement and took another drink. “So, what’s up? You guys just here for a hang or what?”
Anxiously fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater, (Y/N) moved to stand beside Bruce and mustered up a smile for her old friend. “We need your help. There might be a chance we could fix everything.”
“What, like the cable? Because that’s been driving me bananas for weeks-”
“Like Thanos.”
Bruce’s words hung heavy in the air as Thor’s smile slowly vanished, replaced with a grief-stricken expression that (Y/N) knew all too well; it was the same expression she saw reflected back at her in the mirror every morning for the past five years. With his eyes filled with unshed tears, Thor grabbed the collar of Bruce’s sweatshirt and pointed at him as he choked out, “Don’t…D-Don’t you say that name…”
Korg slowly stood and slipped off his headset, warily looking between both men and shrugging his rocky shoulders. “Um, yeah, we don’t actually say that name in here.”
The scientist remained unfazed by Thor’s angry outburst and delicately wrapped a large hand around his wrist. “Please take your hand off me.” He gently eased his fingers off the sweatshirt and (Y/N) could hear Rocket slip his blaster back into its holster when he finally let his hand drop. “Now, I know that…guy might scare you-”
“W-Why would I be scared of that guy? I’m the one who killed that guy, remember? Anyone else here kill that guy?” Thor backed away when Bruce attempted to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder and shook his head. “Nope, didn’t think so. Korg, why don’t you tell everybody who chopped Thanos’ big head off.”
“Um, Stormbreaker?”
“Well, who was swinging Stormbreaker?”
Rocket opened his mouth to speak but (Y/N) bent down to rest a halting hand on his arm, shaking her head when the raccoon’s brow furrowed in confusion and silently gesturing to Bruce as he followed the distraught Asgardian; Bruce’s gaze was filled with warmth and understanding, but Thor was steadfastly avoiding it as he took a long swig of beer. “I get it, you’re in a rough spot. I’ve been there myself, and you wanna know who helped me out of it?”
Thor chuckled humorlessly. “I dunno, Natasha?”
“It was you. You helped me.”
Shaking his head, Thor walked over to the den’s window and looked out at New Asgard in the distance. “Well, why don’t you ask the Asgardians down there how much my help is worth?” He lowered himself to sit in a nearby armchair. “The ones that are left, anyway.”
(Y/N) found herself crossing the messy den and kneeling beside Thor’s armchair, gently resting a hand on his and rubbing circles across his skin with her thumb. “When we were on the Statesman, I told you about the Sokovia Accords and how Steve and Tony weren’t speaking to one another. When I confided in you that I didn’t believe there was an easy way to fix everything, you said to me, ‘Hope can be just as powerful of a weapon as any sword or blaster and as long as we hold onto it, anything is possible.’” Tears started to roll down her cheeks but she ignored them as she tightened her hold on his hand. “For five years, I believed that any hope I had of seeing my daughter again died the day Thanos destroyed those stones. But this plan we’re working on…it renewed my hope, Thor. I think we can bring them all back.”
“Stop. Stop, okay?” Thor pulled his hand from hers and refused to meet her gaze. “I know you think I’m down here wallowing in my own self-pity, waiting to be rescued and saved, but I’m fine, okay? We’re fine, aren’t we?”
Korg waved a hand. “Yeah, we’re good here!”
“So, whatever it is you’re offering, we’re not into it, don’t care, couldn’t care less. Goodbye.”
(Y/N) wiped away her tears as Bruce took a step closer to them. “We need you, pal.”
Despite the conflicted expression beginning to form on Thor’s face, he didn’t respond to the scientist’s words; with a small sigh of exasperation, Rocket stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s beer on the ship.”
The corner of the Asgardian’s lips curved upwards at that. “What kind?”
(Y/N) stood and exchanged a knowing look with Bruce; while Thor’s mental headspace was questionable at best and he’d forced them into empty bribery, the God of Thunder had agreed to join their self-described time heist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gritting her teeth as her biceps strained with the effort of tightening the bolt in front of her, (Y/N) gave her wrench one final twist before releasing the breath she’d been holding. “Okay, Tony, how’s that?”
“Perfect. Good work, Austen!” Down below, Tony looked up from the newly-constructed Quantum Tunnel’s control booth and chuckled. “You can dismount the super-soldier now.”
Steve made a disgruntled sound as (Y/N) rolled her eyes and tucked the wrench into her toolbelt. “You couldn’t have phrased that sentence in a way that didn’t make us sound like perverts?”
“Hey, I offered to go fetch you a ladder but Capsicle insisted on this little Cirque du Soleil routine. I think he just likes showing off the super-strength; remember how he ripped that log in half on Barton’s farm?”
The super-soldier removed his hands from (Y/N)’s calves and she hopped down from his shoulders, falling for less than a second before he deftly caught her in his arms and grinned. “Or maybe I just like carrying my gorgeous wife around, Tony.”
A giggling (Y/N) gave her husband an over-exaggerated kiss on the lips as the billionaire pretended to retch and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her down the Quantum Tunnel’s ramp. “The grease-covered overalls are really doing it for you, aren’t they?”
“Baby, let’s just say that you’d give Rosie the Riveter a run for her money,” Steve replied with a wolfish grin that instantly made her face warm; he finally set her down on her feet and they held hands as they walked over to the control booth. “How’re we looking?”
Tony flipped a couple of switches and jotted a figure down on his tablet. “We’re almost good to go, just as soon as Ratchet checks on the breakers and the Jolly Green Giant finishes prepping Clint’s new Quantum suit.”
(Y/N) pursed her lips but remained silent, not wanting to alert the two men to her disapproval of their changed plan. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Clint’s capabilities but as was the case with the Asgardian currently sleeping off a hangover in one of the hangar’s parked Jeeps, she wasn’t sure if the archer was in the right mindset to take part in such a dangerous experiment that involved traveling back in time to his family’s farm. Now that Tony and Rocket’s Quantum Tunnel was fully constructed and all the Avengers were finally assembled, they decided to use their only spare Pym Particles to conduct a time travel experiment; if they were successful and could definitely prove that the Quantum Realm could allow them to travel through time, then they would begin planning out the next phase of their time heist. Scott was their designated test man but Clint insisted on taking his place, and (Y/N) had a feeling it was partially because of the guilt he felt over his vigilantism.
When the Benatar arrived back at the Avengers Facility after their visit to New Asgard, Natasha had already returned from her solo trip to Japan; Clint was beginning to reacquaint himself with his old teammates and getting to know more about the newer ones, but it was obvious that a part of him felt out of place after all he’d done since the Snap. (Y/N) ran into the archer on her way to the kitchen in search for a non-alcoholic beer for Thor, and it was then that the two of them were able to talk for the first time in seven years.
“It’s good to see you again, (Y/L/N),” Clint beamed before giving her a brief hug; his dark blonde hair was shaved on the sides of his head and long in the center, and one of his arms was entirely covered in tattoos. “And congratulations, by the way, Cap told me that you two got hitched a few years back. Couldn’t figure out why Scott kept calling you ‘Mrs. America,’ but now I guess that’s why.”
“Ah, Scott’s a sweetheart.” (Y/N) chuckled. “I’m just grateful he hasn’t started calling me Lady Liberty or something.”
They both laughed but after a moment, Clint sobered and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Cap also told me about Carina.”
Her smile slowly faded, and she carefully considered her next words before finally speaking. “I can’t speak for the others, of course, but I don’t blame you for what you’ve done.” Clint looked up at her in surprise but remained silent while she continued. “The only reason Steve and I were able to live with the grief of losing Carina was because we had each other to lean on. If either of us had Vanished along with her…well, it’s not too much of a stretch to see what we would’ve become. But we’re all here now, Clint, and that’s what matters. We’re together again and by working together as a team, we’re going to get our families back.”
The teary-eyed archer gave her a thankful smile and gestured towards the kitchen. “Wanna help me make a hangover cure? It’s been a while since I’ve had to make one, but I think the big guy might need one if he’s gonna help us out with all this time travel stuff.” (Y/N) nodded and after looping her arm around his, the pair walked down the hall to the kitchen.
“All right, Red and I set the breakers and checked on the emergency generators,” Rocket called out as he and Natasha entered the hangar. “We’re good to go.”
Natasha moved to stand beside (Y/N) and mumbled, “Did the raccoon seriously just call me ‘Red?’”
“Hey, at least you’re not ‘Big Green,’” (Y/N) muttered back with a small smirk.
Steve sighed in exasperation. “Or ‘Captain Jawline.’”
The trio watched as Clint, Bruce, Nebula, Rhodes and Scott filtered into the hangar and joined the rest of them at the control booth. “Like I said before, you’re gonna feel discombobulated from the chronoshift but it’s nothing to be worried about.” Bruce fiddled with the controls and gave the equipment one final go-over as he spoke. “I’m giving you one minute to walk around and find something you can bring back as proof of a successful test, and then I’ll bring you back. Got it?”
Clint nodded. “Yep, I’m good.”
“Good luck, Clint.” Natasha reached for the archer’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “And be careful.”
He gave her a fleeting smile and squeezed her hand back before dropping it and walking up the Quantum Tunnel’s ramp, standing at the platform’s edge as he anxiously waited for Bruce to start the experiment. Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed a bleary-eyed Thor warily join the small group crowded behind the control panel, feeling Steve’s hand tighten around hers as Clint’s helmet enveloped his head and the Quantum Tunnel whirled to life.
“All right, Clint, we’re going in three…two…one!” In the blink of an eye, Clint shrank into nothing and everyone watched the platform with bated breath while Bruce began his next countdown. “And returning in three…two…one!”
There was a sudden flash of light and the archer appeared on the platform, hunched over on his hands and knees as he struggled to regain his breath; Natasha was the first of them to sprint up the ramp and she immediately crouched down to help her old partner stand. “Hey! Hey, hey, look at me! You okay?”
“Yeah.” Clint was panting and his eyes were filled with stunned disbelief as he nodded and held up a hand, his fingers tightly clutching a child’s worn baseball mitt. “Yeah, it worked.” Natasha’s jaw dropped and the archer tossed the baseball mitt to a beaming Tony. “It worked!”
With an incredulous laugh, (Y/N) turned and threw her arms around Steve, holding tight as the super-soldier pulled her close and lifted her off her feet; she could feel the elated kisses he pressed against her neck and hear the thankful prayers he mumbled into her hair, the both of them reeling with the knowledge that they were now even closer to getting their daughter and all of their friends back.
“Now that we’ve got confirmation that this insane plan can actually work, we’re gonna need to figure out where and when we’ll find the stones,” Bruce remarked as he finished checking Clint’s vitals.
Tony looked over at (Y/N) and grinned. “Then it’s a good thing we’ve got an award-winning novelist and kick-ass history professor to helm that phase of our time heist, isn’t it?”
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A/N: That’s right, (Y/N)’s going to take charge of planning the time heist and put all her teaching/researching skills to good use! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!
Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5L6MERx3PIydW3FyNPqYvl?si=ad6c46de8e954c11
Chapter Six
“Endgame” Masterlist
Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss
#stumblin' in#steve rogers x reader#captain america x reader#steve rogers#captain america#natasha romanoff#black widow#tony stark#iron man#bruce banner#hulk#thor odinson#clint barton#hawkeye#rocket raccoon#nebula#james rhodes#war machine#scott lang#ant man#korg#miek#brunnhilde#valkyrie#thanos#marvel cinematic universe
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My Brother’s Keeper [9-1-1; Buck/Eddie, gen]
~1600 words; family angst, pre-relationship, emotional hurt/comfort
On AO3
He ends up at Eddie’s house with no real memory of how he got there. Sometime after leaving Maddie’s apartment, autopilot took over and turned the Jeep down the familiar darkened residential streets to the familiar little duplex with the sidewalk that Christopher always decorates with fantastical chalk art. Dinosaurs in rocket ships, this time. The warm glow from the front windows spreads across the lawn, and something in Buck settles at the sight of it. He still feels unsteady, but the tightness in his chest has loosened some.
Eddie has the door open by the time he gets the Jeep parked next to the curb. He leans against the doorframe, watching as Buck climbs out and circles to cross the lawn, and that, too, is steadying: Eddie in his sleep shorts and a loose shirt that Buck is nearly certain was stolen from his own closet at some point, tracking Buck’s approach with soft, thoughtful eyes.
“You okay?” he asks quietly once Buck is close enough.
A lump rises in Buck’s throat; he nods. When Eddie arches a skeptical brow at him, he manages to make the words come. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
Eddie’s other eyebrow comes up at that, and Buck can’t blame him; his voice sounds raw even to his own ears. But he’s not lying, or at least he doesn’t think he is. He pats the pocket of his jeans, where the envelope Maddie gave him is tucked away, then lets his hand drop.
“Okay,” Eddie says finally, gently, and moves aside to let him pass.
In the warm-lit kitchen, he pulls open the fridge and silently hands Buck a beer, then steers him toward the table and pushes him gently into a chair. Buck allows himself to be steered. It feels greedy in the way it always does, like he’s cheating the system by letting Eddie handle him softly, like he’s flipping the established order of things on its head, but he’s trying to be better about that lately. Letting himself want things. Letting people love him. Eddie, like this. And Maddie, earlier, when she set the CVS photo envelope on the breakfast bar at her apartment and told him that he didn’t have to look at it if he didn’t want to.
Eddie settles on the other side of the table with his own beer. He cocks his head at Buck, calmly expectant, and Buck heaves a deep sigh and pulls out the envelope, setting it on the table between them.
“Maddie, uh. My parents mailed her some stuff from her old room at home, and. There were some old disposable cameras in there, from when we were—from when she was a kid.”
Carefully, Eddie says, “I didn’t think your parents kept any of that stuff.”
“They didn’t.” Buck taps the envelope. “I don’t think—she said they were in a box of odds and ends that was under her bed. I guess they’re downsizing. Looking to sell the house and move into something smaller, I don’t know. They didn’t—” He shrugs. It’s not that Eddie will be shocked to learn that they didn’t hold onto any of the stuff he left behind when he moved out west, but he still doesn’t feel like saying it out loud. “Anyway, they mailed her the whole box, and she sent the film in to get it developed, and, um.”
He flips the envelope open and slides the stack of glossy photographs out. The top one is a grainy selfie of an eight-year-old Maddie Buckley grinning in front of a swing set, one skinny arm holding the camera away, her hand a pale blur at the edge of the frame. He looks up from it in time to see Eddie’s smile catch, wistful in exactly the way that Buck felt the first time he looked at it.
“These are from before we moved to Hershey,” he says, and flips to the next one. A close-up of a dollhouse, a little girl’s room decorated in paisley and pink. There are a few more blurred shots of the kind of things that could only catch an eight-year-old’s attention: a cloud that looks vaguely like a mermaid, a cluster of flowers in an overgrown median, a cranky-looking ginger cat. The next one is of his mother, standing at the sink in a kitchen he’s never seen; her hair is long and curly and she looks inconceivably young. Eddie makes a sound at that, but Buck flips it over without looking at him, and there’s the first of the pictures he was looking for.
A bright room, sunlight streaming in, the bank of monitors nearly hidden in the edge of the frame. A thin blond boy in Superman pajamas, sitting cross-legged on a generic hospital couch and beaming at the camera. The cannula tubing that trails over his cheeks and tucks away behind his ears doesn’t do much to obscure the resemblance that Buck knows is there.
“Oh,” Eddie says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, Buck sees him reach out; sees him pull back a moment later when the realization dawns. In a very careful tone of voice, he says, “That’s not you.”
Buck shakes his head. “No. Um. But this one is.”
He flips to the next picture. There’s the same blond boy, his head tilted down, an expression of soft, delighted wonder on his face. In the cradle of his folded legs is a swaddled infant, staring up at him as though fascinated.
The silence stretches out for a moment as Eddie looks at it. Buck reaches for his beer, rolls it between his palms, then finally drinks.
“I, um.” His voice is very rough. He takes another drink, but it doesn’t really help. “I think that’s the first baby picture of me that I’ve ever seen.”
Eddie’s breath comes out softly. He spins the photo toward him with careful fingers. “And that’s…?”
“Daniel, yeah. Maddie said, um.” He clears his throat. “Maddie said that they never told him I was a savior baby—didn’t want to get his hopes up, I don’t know.” The bitter thing that he doesn’t say: his parents have always been too comfortable with lying to their children. Maybe they were different back then; he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s not surprised. “She said he was so excited to be a big brother.”
There’s quiet in the wake of that: the careful quiet that Eddie has when he’s working out the right words for a situation. Buck doesn’t look at him. He looks at the picture instead, but even that hurts. That sharp-edged, lingering hurt, because ever since he knew Daniel existed he knew it as—context. As the reason their family was like that; the reason his parents could barely stand to look at him some days. The fundamental, profound failure that was Evan Buckley long before Buck existed.
Somehow, he never really grasped the idea that he once had a big brother who loved him.
“He looks like you,” Eddie says finally.
“Yeah.” Buck laughs raggedly. “Or, I guess more accurately, I look like him.”
He knew that, sort of. We live with the reminder staring us in the face every day. Maybe it would have been different if he’d been a girl, or at least if he hadn’t turned out to look exactly like the brother he was supposed to save. Maybe.
“Buck,” Eddie says, on a long sigh. Then, “Evan.”
He reaches his hand across the table, and Buck reaches across to grab it: warm, solid, holding steady. He folds inward, and Eddie cups the back of his head, leans in to pull him into an incredibly awkward hug, the table and the stack of photographs still wedged between them. Eddie’s warm hand lands on his nape, his thumb making circles in the short hair there.
Into the muffled dark of his own elbow, Buck says, “I don’t even know why I’m so—it’s been—I mean, I don’t even remember him.”
Daniel Phillip Buckley, April 3, 1985—May 23, 1993. Just barely eight years old; not quite a year as a big brother.
“Yeah,” Eddie says very gently. His thumb rubs up through the shorn hair at the back of Buck’s neck, then down again. It’s soothing. Buck would kind of like to stay here forever, even though the edge of the table is digging uncomfortably into his ribs. “But still.”
“But still,” Buck agrees, and lifts his head. Eddie’s face swims into view. The soft angles of his cheek and jaw, the deep brown of his eyes. He looks familiar, and safe, and beautiful in a way that Buck has been holding at arm’s length for—a long time now, honestly. With some reluctance, he lets go of Eddie’s hand and straightens the rest of the way up. “Sorry. I know it’s late, I don’t know why—”
“Yeah, we can skip this part,” Eddie says, with a wryness that still feels very gentle. “I’m glad you came here. You should stay tonight.”
Buck laughs, startled. “I don’t have to.”
“Obviously. But you should.”
“I don’t want to make you fold out the couch, you don’t have to—”
“Buck,” Eddie says. His fingers linger on the edge of the photograph: two little boys in a long-ago hospital room on the other side of the country. Then he sets it carefully on top of the stack and slides them back into the envelope. “Just stay.”
“Okay,” Buck says. He swallows twice, then looks at the hand Eddie still has resting on the table, and reaches out to slide their fingers together, feeling something settle in him when Eddie immediately grips him back. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
#9-1-1#buddie#buddie fic#evan buckley#eddie diaz#daniel buckley#maddie buckley#my fic#taking a break from my many WIPs because that one thread utterly broke my heart
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You might think that it’s wasteful to spend all of our resources on putting a Little Tikes push car on the moon, but have you considered the alternative? Now, children all across this great planet will get to look up at the moon and go: jeez, they spent a ton of money to throw that pile of plastic garbage up there. We did it for the kids, not because of our egos, which could have been stroked any number of alternative, money-burning ways.
Some of you take offence to the fact that a lot of billionaires got a cool ride to another planet courtesy of our car-throwing rocket. That’s okay, because they paid for it, and although we know that the same experience is completely inaccessible to you, the important thing is that we got paid. And we’ll make sure that their money ends up in the least responsible hands imaginable, diluted into the greater economy through a series of Craigslist transactions for keywords like “tunnel ram intake” and “hot dog rotisserie machine 7-11.”
Let’s be honest, though, just you and me. I personally find it very surprising that these billionaires trust in the free market enough to think that a little start-up like ours has what it takes to safely put them into space and back again. All of our promotional YouTube videos are faked, and our investor seed capital went to bribing the admin assistants and next-of-kin of our customers’ estates.
Space flight is risky, we tell them at every opportunity, sometimes multiple times in each paragraph of the glossy brochures we send to their homes. It’s entirely possible that the next flight is the one where we find out that our homemade rocket engine doesn’t really do a great job of keeping all the fire pointed in the right direction, we explain. Or the lawn chairs riveted into the converted garden shed (we used lots of caulk) can’t survive the full G-load of launch. We simply didn’t prioritize these things in our sprint plan.
A different tolerance for risk, perhaps. That’s why I’m not riding on our inaugural flight, the Cozy Coupe Lunar Deployment Mission. That, and the fact that I’d feel like I’m betraying our shareholders by taking up a chair in the rocket that would be better sold to some guy who got rich by inventing a vape that doubles as a slot machine.
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Rocket Lawn-Chair!
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actually my most toxic American trait is that i think fireworks are fun and people who complain about them are fucking buzzkills but i acknowledge that if i lived in a more urban area i would probably have a very different perspective on it because of like legitimate safety concerns and such. i know to you 'fireworks' is just random noise pollution and fire risk but to me 'fireworks' is a fairly safe activity involving sitting out in the field with your family in lawn chairs on a warm January evening lovingly setting off bottle rockets one by one and praising each other when you get one that goes really tall, and you are absolutely coming off as hating fun.
#again i acknowledge that this is highly reigonal#note use of the phrase 'warm January evening'#blah blah blah
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some of the new monument mythos videos, this new one in particular, remind me a lot of the other series that are now hidden or taken down completely. like how american wonderland syndrome reminds me of the cornerfolk videos. this most recent one especially, alex's comment that he'll stop being disappointed once he sees one true act of kindness reminds me a lot of the lunarians and the whole thing about how if you're kind and beautiful enough they'll make you a god. the bunch of chairs bolted to the ground right next to the explosives actually makes me think of the trinity desk video where the people get incinerated because they're sitting on lawn chairs at the foot of the rocket launch. like do these sound similar to anyone else 🤔
#stuff#i wish trinity desk was put back up 😞#monument mythos#AND: was there anybody in the chairs when the explosives went off
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I am here to invite you all (spiritually) to my illegal fireworks display. I have bottle rockets, Roman candles, and plenty of aerials. Please bring a lawn chair and come prepared to belt the patriotic song of your choice
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XI.
The Entity is quite a bit bigger than the last time Scar had seen it. Grian has added a lot to it; the copper wheel buried in its side and the tree growing out of it being the centerpieces for now. The legs are . . . Unnerving, to say the least. If he looks hard enough, he can see cracks in its shell, little flashes of red that make him question what the Entity really is.
He feels bad about what happened, he really does. He wants so desperately to tell Grian about everything, to explain, but as the words had sat on his tongue, the reason behind his silence had reappeared.
And now Grian is angry at him. Actually, both of them are, he'd realized as he'd stared at Mumbo's cold eyes and down turned lips. Self-righteousness makes him bite his cheek to keep from screaming that he's been trying to help. He's trapped in the middle of a rock and a hard place, trying to keep everyone sane by tempering the blow to his own sanity instead.
There's a noise from the Entity, a kind of gargling, grating whine that scratches the inside of his ears like scraping a spoon across ceramic. He shakes his head involuntarily, blinks and swears he sees the red cracks widen in front of him. The stone shifts like skin, reminding him of when he touches Jellie's back and her skin twitches at his touch. It begins to open, and he's not sure what's inside, but the writhing mass of red is as big as he is now.
Something separates from the mass and moves towards him. It reminds Scar of nether vines twisting towards the light of the lava, no brain to guide them forwards but rather something molecular forcing them through space. It reaches out to him and Scar bites down the laugh that rises in his throat at how ridiculous it looks.
The tendril splits apart once at the end, then again, clean and neat like the tendril had always been split. Scar's brain makes sense of it the same way he sees shapes in the clouds; it looks eerily like a hand reaching out, grasping and desperate.
Scar takes a purposeful step back, his fingers digging into the smooth wood of his cane. "Y'know, this is a bit weird, even for me. Thank you so very much for the offer, but I'm going to have to pass."
The Entity doesn't respond — not that he expected it to — as he backs up a few paces, turning and rocketing away.
His tree is a welcome sight for sore eyes. Even with Scarland and the cookie shop, his very first build has a sense of homely-ness that he finds he misses every once in a while. He’s sure Joe would have some interesting insight into that, something about him feeling the need to be surrounded by the familiar when the unfamiliar becomes too much, but he’s doing his best not to think about that (or tell Joe, for that matter). He lands near silently on the mossy lawn, already thinking about dinner.
The door is unlocked and swings open easily. He rarely locks his doors, content to keep any valuables hidden rather than locked up. There's something now though that makes him regret not locking it, some hindbrain feeling of paranoia he’s become custom to. He steps inside and closes the door gently behind him. The redstone lights in his sitting room are on, flickering softly against the growing dark of the evening.
Dark, slicked-back hair is visible over one of the chairs. Scar's heart sits next to his Adam's apple as he steps into the room.
"You took your time," Mumbo says, not looking up from the blueprints he has haphazardly strewn over his lap.
"I didn't know I had an appointment," Scar says. "This is very 'Silence of the Lambs'."
"Does that make me Hannibal in this analogy?" Mumbo quirks an eyebrow at him, his expression otherwise neutral, before looking back at the papers.
"I'd like to think we're both Hannibal. A meeting of minds, if you will. I was about to grab some food, would you—"
"I think you should sit." Mumbo's voice rattles around the inside of Scar's head. He considers resisting, but the awful moral obligation to be a friend to Mumbo wins out and he finds himself walking to the chair across from Mumbo and sitting down, resting his cane against his knee. His stomach protests; golden carrots don't do much to fill him up these days, and he's starting to feel a little bit off. He already feels like he's idling at a high speed already and the way Mumbo's command ping-pongs around, not welcome in his head, is kind of driving him a little crazy.
Mumbo carefully folds the papers in half, again and again, calm and aloof. But Scar knows better than to believe that; He can see the darkness in his eyes and he knows he's angry.
"Now then," Mumbo says, "do you want to explain why you smell like blood?"
Scar rolls his eyes, relaxes back in his chair. "Mumbo, that's not exactly out of the norm."
“Not like that. Not around Grian, not to mention he smelled of it, too.”
Scar wrinkles his nose. "It’s weird you know what he smells like,” Scar says. Mumbo just stares at him. Scar sighs and allows the humor in his voice to drop. He’s too tired to play games. “Why don't you ask him?" The words taste bitter coming out. He crosses one leg over the other, gritting his teeth at the ache. He doesn't want to be here, being interrogated by Mumbo, he wants to eat.
"I'm asking you."
Scar huffs. "I didn't do anything, if that's what you're looking for."
"If you hurt him—"
Scar stands suddenly, eyes narrowed and his knuckles white on his cane. "I don't need to be babysat while you're off having a vacation and neither does Grian."
Mumbo levels him with a calm gaze. "Come on, Scar. You know that's not what I'm implying."
Everything is getting too much. Both of them seem so angry with him and all he's tried to do is help. His own affronted ego gets the better of him.
"If you want to know, go ask Grian. He won't tell me what's going on, maybe he'll tell you." Scar tightens the grip on his cane and turns on his heel.
"Scar, stay." It's enough to make his steps stutter, but he marches towards the door, latent energy and anger buzzing under his skin. He feels like if he touches the tree, it may light on fire. It'd calm him down, sure, but he'd regret it later.
He's four steps to the door when suddenly he's not; he's pressed against the wall with Mumbo holding him there, an arm across his throat. His eyes blaze, dark voids that threaten to swallow him whole.
"Scar, if you laid even a finger on Grian—"
"I didn't!"
"He smelled like blood!"
"It wasn't his!" Silence falls over the two of them as Mumbo stares at him, scanning him for signs of treachery. "It wasn't his."
Mumbo eases up off of him, but doesn't let him go fully. "Who's was it?"
Scar swallows heavily, looks at Mumbo for a long minute. How do you tell a man that his best friend isn't the man he was? "Something is wrong with Grian. I think it has to do with the Entity."
"And you didn't touch him?"
Grian's slack hand stained red flashes across his memory and he can feel his face pale, his eyes flickering away from Mumbo's face.
"Scar." Mumbo's voice is calm, quiet. He should be angry, furious even, but history has a bad habit of warping the present.
"I lost control," Scar whispers. The admission burns like fire in his throat. He can't stand to meet Mumbo's eyes.
"You said you had a system." Scar wants to laugh at that. Mumbo should know how well his "systems" worked. As doomed to fail as most of his plans. Then again, Joe had once said he had "the general air of a man who knows exactly what he's doing", so maybe that played into it. Why is he thinking so much of Joe, anyway?
"What happened?" It's not a question, it's a demand. Scar knows Mumbo, he's certainly spent enough time with him. Mumbo is kind of like a wet noodle, slippery and without much of a spine and sometimes a little salty. The normal Wet Noodle Man state gets along swimmingly with Scar's particular brand of weird so he's never had any complaints. That's how things usually are. Right now, however, he's the opposite of a wet noodle. He is a dry noodle. He's a serious, dry, brittle noodle bent worryingly close to snapping and will remain there until someone tells him everyone is safe and healthy and he can dunk himself back into water and return to his usual wet noodley self.
"I didn't . . . I don't know, I got distracted, got into a build. Grian usually pulls me away for shenanigans and I remember y'know 'oh right I should actually eat something so I don't—'. You know. But he's not really here these days and I just got kind of sucked in and uh. Grian was in my shop and I just kind of." Scar studies the smooth wood of the floor and the twisting lines of its grain, drawing close but never quite interceding.
"What did you mean when you said 'He's not really here'?"
Scar just . . . stares at him. The mask drops away and Scar can see him for the first time since he got back, the worry in his eyes, the fear that sits right under the surface. Oddly, warmth blooms in his chest at the idea that Mumbo’s calm, happy-go-lucky shell would break at the mere idea that he or Grian were hurt.
Scar shifts and the ache in his legs spreads to his hips and sends a shock up his spine. His breath hisses out between his teeth and he feels Mumbo's grip shift to his arm to hold him steady. Guilt and worry flashes in Mumbo's eyes.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry, let's just . . ." He wraps an arm around Scar's waist and walks with him back over to the living room, careful to lower him into a chair.
Mumbo sits down across from him on the edge of his seat, wringing his hands. "I'm not ah . . . Very good at being—"
"It's fine," Scar cuts him off. Mumbo stares at him, like he's some very odd bug he wants to dissect, or maybe like he's a spider that Mumbo is worried will jump if he looks away. Scar doesn't even know if what he's saying is fine, he just wants Mumbo to stop talking until he can think through the haze of pain.
Static numbs the tips of his fingers, ice cold and enough to make him shudder. It races up his spine and he hates that he can track it so acutely now. He breathes deeply, eyes pinched shut for several minutes, until the feeling begins to return to his legs.
"It's getting worse?" Mumbo's words are soft and full of worry where there should be fear. Mumbo's never been one to feel fear easily, though.
Scar nods and looks out the window. He used to be able to see the Entity from here before it moved. He'd quite liked it. It had a certain natural feeling that he could respect, a kind of life he hadn't really seen in many of Grian’s builds, Grumbot excluded. Now he can only see the leaves of the twisting tree that grows from its back and the outline of a spindly leg against the setting sun.
"Something's not right with Grian," Scar says softly. "I know, I messed up, but you can put me in a spawn death-box or whatever later, just . . . I think it's time, Mumbo."
Mumbo's brows furrow and his mouth turns down, firm resolve settling over him like a cloak. "No. Absolutely not."
"Mumbo—"
"I said no. I've said no. My answer hasn't changed and it won’t change. Grian . . . No. We can't."
Scar is silent for a long second, staring at the emotions that wash over Mumbo. "He won't leave, you know."
Mumbo doesn't reply, just looks away from him. It's enough. Scar sighs and sinks back into the plush armchair. "We're gonna figure it out, Mister Jumbo, of that I can assure you."
Scar can see Mumbo's eyes roll, so he kicks his good leg out and taps the other man's shin with his foot. "Soooooo, are you gonna tell me about all the trouble you got into, or do I have to make it up myself?"
Mumbo laughs. "You'll make it up anyway! You're worse than a group of secondary school girls at keeping your mouth shut and you've got a hell of an imagination."
"Mumbo!" Scar says, his hand over his heart in mock pain. "I've been nothing but a friend to you, and this is the thanks I get?"
"Sod off," Mumbo kicks lightly at his foot, but he's smiling again. Scar leans back in his chair and lets the other's words wash over him. It's a balm to a gaping wound; just for a moment, he can pretend everything is okay.
#prion au#tw cannibalism#tw eating issues#tw disordered eating#tw blood#hermitcraft#hermitcraft fanfic#mcyt#hermitblr#gtws#goodtimeswithscar#mumbo#mumbo jumbo#hermitcraft mumbo
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