#.. frick me again. the wheel has something caught in it. try to get it out. not winning

[missmouse25]

Ok I’m complaining in the tags!!!

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Hi and congratulations for the milestone!! 🎉🎉

I did promise I’d take the wheel for a spin and it must be fate because this came up:

It seems fitting, that man is known for his talents with his mouth, tongue and fingers 🥴🥴

I’ll leave you with a question to go with the result (feel free to ignore if it doesn’t tickle your fancy); how long does he last until Frankie has to have a taste?

Congrats 🎉❤️

Ohhhhh frick, how could I POSSIBLY ignore that question?? Because now my head is simply reeling with HOT THOTS about Frankie Morales, finally eating you out, after you tease him endlessly.

And, of course because this is Frankie, I have to tip my hat to the seminal masterwork of “All Hail the King” by Kat @pilothusband, without which we would not have the headcanon of Frankie Morales as the pussy-eating king, which we all now know as gospel...

Thank you for helping me celebrate! There’s some real hot stuff under the cut, people!

The Game

Word count: 4500

Outline: Frankie Morales x “You” (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: Mature/Explicit, 18+ only; mature and vulgar language; mentions of making out; teasing Frankie; one mention of oral sex/M receiving; oral sex/F receiving; vaginal fingering; Frankie has a FILTHY praise-kink mouth; Frankie going primal caveman on your pussy when he finally gets there

You’ve been on two previous dates with Frankie, and each one has ended in some truly smashing makeout sessions. The man is an excellent kisser, and it’s been so long since you had that, you’ve gone a little crazy with just kissing on your first two dates.

On your first date he took you out for a drive to the scenic overlook, and after an hour of good conversation, the sun had set low behind the ocean and you made out like teenagers in the cab of his truck for another hour.

Date two was an action movie, and since the theater was practically deserted when you sat down, you got a wicked idea. You tickled your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and invited him to join you in the back row, and you made out again for all 105 minutes of explosions and punching. Neither one of you remembers the plot.

Tonight is date three, and after an early dinner out, you’ve decided that it’s time to invite Frankie back to your place to see what else he can do with that talented tongue.

You pour him a cold drink and he sits on your couch, but neither one of you really wants to talk. There’s too much electricity in the air. Your head is fuzzy with want. You’ve been able to kiss him plenty, but you haven’t had the chance to do more. And then you get another idea, a leftover ‘game’ from your teenage years, something that was hot back then when you played it with your boyfriends… maybe it still works?

“Do you want to play a game?” You slip your feet out of your sandals and tuck one leg under you to swivel toward him on the couch. You smile at this handsome, sweet man with your most secret smile and bite your lip as he frowns and looks at your bookshelf full of board games.

“You mean like Scrabble?” His confusion is adorable, and you giggle as you move closer to him on the couch, your voice low… “Not like Scrabble.” You flutter your eyelashes up at him and now his frown is gone, replaced by a look of interest.

“What kind of game did you have in mind, pretty girl?” And now he looks very interested, his broad hand coming up to your shoulder to stroke your arm, pulling you closer for a kiss. But you don’t let him pull you in all the way, you stop a few inches from his face and whisper… “A naughty game.”

And now you can see the sheer hunger in his eyes. The way his pupils flare and his deep coffee eyes fix onto your lips. He tries to go in for a kiss and you pull away, just out of reach. You hold up one finger and place it to his lips, stopping him in his tracks.

You smile up at him from under your lashes. “That’s the game.”

“I have to chase you?” He flicks his eyebrows up, not looking impressed.

“No. We try to get as close as we can, but we can’t touch. We tease each other, just to see how long we can hold out.”

He chuckles. “That’s a terrible game.”

“You don’t think anticipation is hot? How about this… what do you want to do to me the most? If you play my game you might get to do it.”

He looks less skeptical now. He glances at your lips, then back to your eyes, before his gaze trails down, down, down your body. You shiver, and from his look alone, you feel hot and cold all at once.

You’re starting to think this might be… well, not “dangerous,” just more of an experience than the last time you played, which was at an age where the absolute wildest possibility was that you would get to feel a boy’s hand on the outside of your bra.

You bite your lip and blink with nervous anticipation, waiting for him to take the bait. He could decide right now not to play and you would still let him ravish you, let him put his mouth and hands and dick wherever he wants. You would welcome it.

He meets your eyes again, and you hold your breath, feeling a heat creep up to your cheeks and down to your cunt at the same time. His whole body is still, except for the rise and fall of his chest, moving breaths slowly in and out, and his big brown eyes that blink occasionally as he considers you with a thoughtful expression.

This is torture, waiting for his answer. You’re about to break first, tell Frankie he doesn’t have to play your silly game, when he moves just his mouth. His bottom lip opens a crack, and his tongue slides out of the corner and sweeps across that plush, velvety top lip, half-hidden under his scruffy mustache.

He moves the tip of his tongue slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes fixed on your face... watching you watch his mouth. You suddenly realize that this is his opening move, he’s playing your game already, and he’s playing you as well. You set the rules, and he’s already winning.

You release a shaky breath and scoot an inch closer on the couch. You flick the tip of your tongue out, letting it wet your bottom lip. You bring your lower lip in between your teeth and bite down hard, watching Frankie’s eyes drift to your mouth. You release your lip from between your teeth and then exhale a sigh and a breathy moan of, “Hmm…”

You reach your hand up to open the top button of your thin cardigan, the one you like to wear because it’s your color and it’s soft and it fits you like a dream. But it’s also the one that you wear on third dates on purpose, with no blouse underneath it - just a lacy bra and a heart full of hope pounding in your chest.

He watches your fingers with that hungry look resurfacing, the one that made your stomach flip a moment ago. He scoots closer to you, closing the gap until his denim-clad leg is a centimeter from your knee, one arm draped over the back of the couch, thick fingers resting just an inch from your shoulder.

No touching, you had said. Frankie is making it clear to you that he knows the rules and will play them to their limits. He reaches up to the neck of his denim shirt, the top two snaps already open, and then he unsnaps two more. The neck of his shirt falls open, and the amber light from the lamp scatters across the planes of his neck and clavicles. You can’t tear your eyes away from his golden skin, and you feel the emptiness of your pussy as it starts to leak into your panties.

Frankie holds himself still, waiting for your next move. You aren’t sure what to do next, and truthfully your brain went completely blank the moment you caught sight of Frankie’s chest. You decide to raise the stakes. You get up from the couch, moving to stand in front of Frankie where he sits. His deep brown eyes are watching you intently, smoldering as he takes in your form just an arm’s length away. His gaze skates from your face to your breasts to your hips and back up, and you wait until his eyes come to a stop before you make your move.

You reach up to the second button of your cardigan and open it, then the next one. You see Frankie’s eyes go wide, pupils flaring black as he realizes what you’re doing. You fight the giddiness that surges up inside you, forcing your face to remain as neutral as possible. You see Frankie’s cock twitch once in his jeans, and you are delirious with the sudden realization that you’re holding quite a lot of power over this gorgeous man.

Your fingers continue their dance down your buttons until all of them are free, and then you grab the lapels of your cardigan. Frankie’s eyes flick to your hands where they hover at your breasts, and you pause, drawing the moment out for as long as you deem just short of cruel. You open the cardigan and shed it from your shoulders, tossing it on the couch seat you just vacated.

Frankie takes a sharp breath in, and his eyes flutter closed for just a moment. When he opens them again his brown irises are nearly blown black with arousal, and you almost feel bad for escalating the game this far. You take three steps backward toward the hallway, curling your finger to draw Frankie up off the couch. You break the silence with one word, “Bedroom.”

He surges up off the couch so quickly that you think he’s decided to break, to just grab you and pounce on you and end the game. But instead he halts a foot away, and looks deep into your eyes with a smirk. Something like a warning in the back of your brain tickles, uh-oh.

Frankie starts to undress, and as you see more of his golden skin in the low lamplight, you start to think that you might concede first. He sheds his baseball cap, then his shirt, tugging the remaining snaps open with a single pull. You drink in the sight of his naked torso, the soft patches of hair that mimic his delectable facial scruff, the breadth of his wide shoulders, and the curve of his abdomen where it meets his waistband. There’s a faint trail of hair that leads down, and now you’re dying to follow it where it leads.

He toes his work boots off, then opens the fly of his jeans. He pulls them down and off with his socks, and now he’s standing in your living room, clad only in a pair of black boxer-briefs, the soft cotton fabric doing a valiant job of containing his massive erection. You fight the urge to sink down to your knees and rip his underwear off, shove your mouth down onto his cock, see how deep you can take him. You hear yourself shudder as you inhale, nearly a sob, and it echoes in the silence and stillness of the room. Frankie looks pleased with himself, coiled and waiting for your next move. He must know how close you are to breaking.

You take another few steps backwards, keeping your eyes on Frankie as he follows you down the short hallway to your bedroom. You open your jeans as you cross the threshold, pushing them down along with your underwear and kicking them off into a corner. You reach behind you to unclasp your bra, and Frankie pauses to watch you, hands braced on either side of the doorway where he stands, his corded neck and shoulders tensed. You reach up to one shoulder and slowly pull the strap down. Then you do the same to the other strap, moving deliberately, watching Frankie’s ears go slightly pink as he clenches his jaw. You stand with your back to the wall, and you rest your back and shoulders against it, no longer trusting your watery knees to hold you upright. Then you tip your jaw up at Frankie. Your move.

Frankie crosses the room swiftly, long legs eating up the distance between you. He braces each large hand on the wall on either side of your head, then leans in closer, caging you in. His dark eyes fix on yours, and for just a moment you forget how to breathe. His gorgeous hooked nose is just an inch from yours, and if you tilted your head up you could bump noses, engage him in a kiss. But you’re not ready to give in just yet.

You gaze into the liquid cocoa pools, and inhale as silently as you can through your nose, smelling the clean cotton scent of Frankie’s detergent as it mixes with the masculine musk of his deodorant, the expanse of his tawny skin giving off its own salty hints. You feel a sharp twinge between your legs, another clench of your pussy, and now that’s all you can think about. You’re throbbing and wet, hot and getting hotter.

You press your thighs together in a futile attempt to relieve the ache, but it only makes it worse. You exhale and it comes out on the back of a whine, a faint noise that you know Frankie hears, because his expression changes to hunger again, mixed with a secret and knowing smile that tells you that you’re in deep trouble with this man. You have underestimated him, and you’re going to learn that lesson in a very memorable way.

Frankie is sweet and kind, soft-spoken and gentlemanly. You try to think back to what you assumed would happen when you proposed this little game, that maybe he would get a little bit horny, play along with you for a few minutes, and then pretend to give in just to get his arms around you. Instead, you seem to have awakened a strategist, someone who is used to making important calculations toward an end goal. You mistook Frankie’s softness for something it definitely is not, and now you’re regretting having challenged him. He’s not going to go easy on you.

Your stomach does that sick roller-coaster thing that it does sometimes, and you feel your heartbeat kick up a notch as Frankie uses those sharp eyes of his to inspect you. His penetrating stare moves from your eyes to your lips, which part involuntarily, an invitation to kiss you if he dares to give in first. He breathes slowly through his nose as his eyes trail down to your breasts and back up, taking in every inch of your bare skin. You feel like you’re being strangled by his gaze, but it is delicious.

Frankie takes his hands off the wall and then drops slowly to his knees. You look down at him in surprise. He opens his mouth and his voice is low and commanding. “Hands above your head for me, sweetheart.”

You lift your chin level with the floor and lace your fingers over your head, leaning harder into the wall with your shoulders. Your heart thrums in your chest, a steady tattoo that reminds you that you’re alive, but that also makes you feel very close to passing out. You try to remind yourself to breathe, breathe, breathe. You widen your legs just a bit for stability, and you hear Frankie chuckle low in his throat.

He starts talking, and were it not for the wall holding you up, you swear that you would buckle to the ground as he bathes you with his delicious, filthy monologue.

“Did you know,” Frankie intones, his voice raspy with desire, “... that you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen?”

You rush an exhale out through your mouth, and suck a great heaving breath back in. He’s only just started, and you’re not at all sure that you’re going to survive this. You dare to tilt your head to look down at Frankie, but his eyes are not on yours, they’re staring intently at your pubic mound. He’s transfixed, the secret smile gone as he stares between your legs.

“In fact, I think that this might be... the most tempting pussy that I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at. I could just bury my face in her right now.”

You feel like you can’t breathe, and you lace your fingers tighter behind your head as you stare down at Frankie’s soft curls, his nose just inches from your sex, his tongue dripping honey as you feel yourself getting wetter. Frankie continues his dirty talk, spilling the gorgeous, filthy words right into the center of your being.

“I would definitely like to taste her, see how she drips for me when she really gets going. Do you drip or do you squirt, honey?”

You clench your butt muscles and lean your shoulders even harder against the wall, a desperate attempt to stay upright as your knees threaten to give out. An involuntary whine slips out from your lips, and Frankie tilts his head to look up at you, that mischievous smile curving back across his lush lips.

“Would you like that, darlin’? Would you like me to eat you out?”

You bite your lips hard and struggle to stay standing. All you want to do is give in, collapse down onto Frankie and let him have his way with you. You feel another new rush of slickness hit your center and you almost break. Not yet, your brain whispers. Just wait...

Frankie turns his face back to your pelvis and then braces his hands on the wall, so close to your hips that you can feel the warmth emanating off his skin. But again, not touching you, he’s staying within the rules that you set for him. He’s too good at this, and now you know that you’re definitely going to lose.

Frankie slowly leans forward, bending his elbows to move his face closer and closer to your crotch. His nose comes an inch away, then half an inch. For a moment you hope that he will slip and make contact and lose, but he doesn’t. He has excellent muscle control and his arms don't even quiver as he finally stops, hovering just a centimeter in front of your cunt. You are wetter than you ever have been, and you swear that you can feel it leaking down the inside of your leg, trailing down your thigh as Frankie tortures you.

His voice is a whisper now, velvety and soft, and you strain to hear him above the rushing of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“You smell amazing, honey.” He closes his eyes and inhales, taking your scent into himself like you’re the sweetest flower at the farmer’s market.

It hits you suddenly that this is the most debauched, most intimate thing you’ve ever done with a lover. No man has ever dared to just smell you like this, and you feel something twist inside the bowl of your pelvis, like a spring being wound tighter. You realize that you’re not breathing, and you open your mouth into a little o-shape to take a slow, cooling breath into your lungs. You regain your steadiness and settle deeper into yourself to try to hold out, to hang in there just a little longer.

“I bet that you taste like heaven, pretty girl. I can’t wait to fuck you on my tongue, lick you inside and out.”

Frankie leans back and looks up at you with a wink. “After you touch me first and lose, I’m going to lick this pussy so hard that you come six times while you scream my name.”

You gurgle out a surprised, “Oh!”

Frankie sits back on his heels and stands back up, a little triumphant, like he knows how close he pushed you to the edge.

You release your hands and place your palms flat on the wall by your hips, not trusting them to hang loose at your sides, lest they decide to reach out and skim over his broad shoulders of their own accord. You look up at Frankie where he hovers over you, and you lick your lips and whisper to him.

“Frankie, I want you. Please touch me.”

He arches one eyebrow at you. “Does that mean you want the game to end? Are you giving up?”

You close your eyes and shake your head no, and for a moment you’re not sure if you’re even capable of playing the game any longer. Your head is fuzzy and your skin is screaming to be touched. You take a deep breath in and then out, and when you open your eyes Frankie is looking at you with concern.

“Do you give up, sweetheart? Or do you want to keep playing?”

You choke out a strangled whisper, the barest hint of speech. “I want… I want…”

Frankie comes closer, bracing himself on the wall again, big arms boxing you in as he moves into your space. He tilts his head down and murmurs, “Tell me.”

You look up into his eyes and the whole room tilts to the left. All you can see is Frankie, and he’s all that matters while the rest of the world spins dizzy around you. You feel sick with anticipation, and you know that this is your fault, that you were the one who proposed this stupid torturous game in the first place.

You just want it to end, you need it to end now.

“Frankie, I… I want…”

“You want me to eat you out? Stick my tongue inside that gorgeous pussy and fuck you with it until you come? Is that it?”

He leans closer and still doesn’t touch you, just keeps stringing you along with his depraved poetry as he tilts his head to hover an inch from your ear.

“Or maybe you want me to finger-fuck you, too? Stretch you open and see how good it feels? I bet we can make your pussy squirt, make you gush around my hand when I reach deep inside and hit your g-spot. I bet you’ll soak the bed, you sweet thing. Maybe squirt clear across the room.”

“Oh god.” You whine and duck your chin, trying to resist the urge to turn your head toward him and make contact, kiss him and then let him go wild, do all the things he’s been threatening to do.

“Frankie, I…”

“You what, sweetheart?” His tone is just this side of mocking, and it makes your cunt clench.

“I need…”

Frankie pulls his head away from your ear and looks you directly in the eyes.

“Use your words pretty girl.” His voice has an edge now, firm, sounding like a direct order. “Tell me what you need.”

“I- I want, I need… I need you inside of me. I want you everywhere, Frankie.”

“Yeah? You need me, sweet girl? You need Frankie to take care of you?”

Your face crumples, a whine of pure desire making your throat ache. Your pussy drools another bit of slick down your inner thigh. You want to cry, and Frankie frowns at you with genuine concern.

“I can take care of you, sweetheart. Anything you want, you just say the word. But first…” He leans his head down lower, lower, lower and stops, his warm breath fanning over your lips as he whispers.

“... first you have to touch me.”

You moan at that, the unfair knowledge that all you have to do to get everything you want is to give in. And he’s so close, his nose just a centimeter from yours. All you would have to do is lean up, kiss him, and-

Frankie abruptly pushes off the wall and takes two steps back from you. The sudden absence of him makes something in you snap. You rush at him and practically knock him over, kissing him with a snarl and wrapping your arms and legs around him as he laughs in surprise. He braces both big hands under your bottom and half-carries you to your bed.

He plops you down on the bedspread and then leans down over you as you kiss and kiss and kiss him. Now that the dam has broken, you’re not sure you’re ever going to stop, and you don’t give a flying fuck that you just lost at your own game. As far as you’re concerned you won, because you’re naked on your bed with Frankie laying over you, his hard cock pressing against your wet seam through his boxers.

You open your legs wide and wrap them around Frankie’s waist, and he kisses you before pulling back with a gentle shush against your lips.

“Wait wait, pretty girl. We’re not gonna fuck yet. I gotta eat you out first.”

“No Frankie, please. Please just fuck me.” You clutch and grasp at him, trying to pull him into you. He braces himself on his arms and hovers maddeningly over your face as he smiles.

“No, baby. You said if I played your game you would let me do what I wanted. You lost. I win.”

Frankie moves his mouth to your ear and whispers. “I get to eat your pussy until you’re screaming my name.”

You moan, a high-pitched cry of defeat. You want him inside of you now, not a moment longer. You’ve been tortured and taunted long enough, and you haven’t even gotten a glimpse of his cock, other than to see the impressive way that his erection fills out the contours of his boxer-briefs.

Frankie kisses you and tells you to release your legs, and then he stands up and wraps his big hands around your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor and looks up to your face with a wicked smile, the look of a man who is about to enjoy his victory over you.

You try to remind yourself that you lost, fair and square, and now your punishment is that you will have to wait to feel Frankie’s huge cock stretching you open. You’re going to have to take your punishment like a good girl.

Frankie pushes your legs up and back toward your chest, and you hook your hands behind your knees to hold them open. He takes the first tentative lick of your clit, and you cry a soft “Oh!” and toss your head back.

Frankie’s fingers stroke your outer labia, top to bottom, and he spreads you open with his fingertips. You feel the cool air hit your slick, and then the hot swipe of his tongue through your folds. This is torture, you think, but only as much as I deserve.

Frankie licks your clit gently before suddenly surging into you tongue-first, going as deep as he can, licking into you deeply. He curls his tongue up as he withdraws, and he hits the bundle of nerves on the underside of your clit. He does it again and again and again, and before you can warn him that you’re about to come, you’re shuddering and breaking apart in his mouth.

Frankie eases two big fingers into you and you’re grateful for the thickness of them, giving your muscles something to clench and squeeze around while Frankie softly licks your clit, working you through your climax. When you finally relax your legs, he sucks your clit into his mouth and then releases you with a smack of his lips.

“That’s one, pretty girl, but I didn’t hear you scream my name. We’ll see if you can do that with any of the other five.”

Frankie dives back into you face-first, and fulfills all of his threats from the game.

---

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc @coreychick

[kineticallyanywhere]

I'd love to hear those fusion thots :eyes: the pacific rim ones were V good

If you’ve been around this house for a hot minute you might know that fusion aus are My Entire Jam Garden so you might imagine I’ve already put some thought into this and you would imagine right. The following was brainstormed in consort with @aryashi my second brain. 

The basis for this au is that fusion is possible in the forgotten realms and is just a thing people there can do. This also applies to sudden interdimensional travelers. 

tl;dr I wrote basically a one-shot’s worth of words down there but in short fusion is rad but also there's an unexpected amount of drama. which is basically a summary of the podcast but replace "fusion" with "fatherhood"

(preface: fusion is not a sex metaphor, just like pacific rim. Platonic fusion is normal. Familial fusion is normal. Okay, continue.) 

First inter-dad fusion: “I silence his dumb ass with a kiss” except its “I silence his dumb ass by accidentally fusing our bodies and consiousnesses into a single being w h o o p s” 

I like to name fusions as something other than their romantic ship name so let’s call him… o h yeah we named all of Henry’s fusions after animals. So this guy is Hare (like Darryl). Hare is pretty stable from the outside, but their internal dialogues clash really hard so they're incredibly slow to make decisions. 

Internally, Henry feels like he's crossed Darryls boundaries. They have to hold it, but he lets Darryl take the wheel and all similar mistakes are made. They make it through the thing with the Lance before unfusing. Darryl has no idea what that was and already has a lot of intimacy issues, so he’s not particularly inclined to try that again for funsies. Henry is curious, but there’s a buried part of him that’s making him deeply unsettled by the whole experience. He can barely have a straight thought about it, much less articulate the feeling, so he doesn’t try. He lets it go. 

First sons fusion: When the Lord of Chaos throws back his robe, yelling “Dad! !” it’s a GIANT Lark&Sparrow. They’re like trying to fuse two rubies together, you just get a bigger ruby. This changes a bit later, when the twins start to diverge from each other vis a vis Love Wolfism, but basically the Lord of Chaos is an Oak Twin the size of their dad. But still looks 12. It probably actually takes the Love Wolf speech from Henry and their divergent reactions to get them to unfuse. 

Second inter-dad fusion: That other time Henry and Darryl smooched while high on drug flowers. It was very unpleasant, they don’t talk about it, they don’t try that again for a while. 

They get a book on fusions from the Library that reads almost like a birds and the bees talk and there is minor culture-shock panicking about whether fusion is Like That, but something in Henry is telling him “No. It’s not Like That.” He doesn’t really know why he’s so solid in that belief. He understands that fusion is unique and powerful and a wonderful thing, but something about doing it is just… getting under his skin. 

Third inter-dad fusion: Glenn and Ron. I’m not even sure the exact context or anything. Maybe they were just vibin’. All I really know is that I imagine these two occasionally fuse for the weirdest things, like

Fourth inter-dad fusion: also Glon, fishing magic items out of a giant toilet. They needed to be taller. 

Glon is… gosh, what the heck is Glon. Performative out the ass, for sure. Down for basically anything. Allowed to wear bootie shorts. 

Back up a hot minute though, because first dad-son fusion: almost happens on the Tower of Terry. It comes so close. They’re in that hug, and Ron thinks maybe if they fuse, the magic won’t take TJ. Or even if it takes them both, that’s better than TJ getting taken alone. They don’t have to say “I’m sorry” or “I love you, son” out loud, but before it really takes, Terry gets ripped away. Because Willy can’t have that, can he? 

Fifth inter-dad fusion: is Glon again, but the circumstances are way different because Ron just saw the mummy of his wife and Glenn is trying to help him breeze past it and it works until it doesn’t and they fall apart with Ron a crying mess. 

Sixth inter-dad fusion buckle up because we’ve reached Ravenloft. Before dad-fusion 6, Henry gets caught in his dad’s claws. He feels something very familiar and rejects it with everything he has, and escapes to grab Glenn. Then he gets hit by Calm Emotions, Glenn reaches up, trying not to fall, and Henry is already super chill about everything all of a sudden, so when Glenn tries to fuse out of panic, Henry goes for it. 

Gila—Henry and Glenn—can do actual bard magic. They’re like Opal, in that a single moment of disconnect is enough to snap them apart and finding that disconnect is not difficult. But when the situation is saving their kids and telling their asshole dads to get lost, that’s plenty enough connection to cast an actual magic-ass thunderwave with a guitar and maybe a bit more. 

(Barry didn’t like that.) 

So another fun thing about adding this factor to cannon is that this lets the dads have glimpses inside each other’s heads. So certain conversations could change a little bit. For example, in the van while they’re driving away from the Ravenloft fight and Henry’s explaining a few things. 

Henry: I don't have a lot of memories from that time in my life—  Glenn: Not a lot? Try "not any.” Henry: Glenn—  Glenn: Dude, none of my business, but your brain was weird.  Henry: Glenn.  Glenn: Like did the government get to you when you showed up on earth or—   Henry: Glenn what the fff—rick are you even saying just shut up Darryl: …

Darryl had noticed, too, but Glenn has other fusion experience to compare with. Henry could catch glimpses and imprints and trains of thought which ground in different points of Darryl/Glenn’s entire life, and Glenn and Ron can do that equally with each other. But a bunch of things for Henry, if you try to backtrack to where the decision comes from it just. Stops. Especially with using magic, which Glenn got to do. And Henry’s thoughts on fusion end dead hard. 

(filtering all of this through Freddie’s headcanon that Glenn always figured Henry was from Faerun but was just wildly wrong about all the details is so much fun)

This is the part in the fic series where there’s a one-shot about Henry having a panic attack just outside of the camp at night, and the most he can explain is just that something about seeing his dad again set him off. 

And then we get to a lighter turn for first dad-son fusion but for realsies this time: Ron Stampler nat 20s to hug his son and then also is the son. And that dad. And dads are supposed to be inside to do a ritual for a demon cow. 

RJ is the sweetest dude. Also if you don’t sit on him he will wander off and do the most extreme version of the first thing that comes to his mind for a problem solution or release from boredom. And he will not tell you about it in advance, so seriously. Sit on him. 

So they stand there for a second like "yes... Yes. Yes... Okay. Im... I'm the dad. But I'm the kid? But im. The dad. And all the other dads are also the kid so... Dad... Trumps kid status. And I'm the dad... Cool." and they go in to help with the demon cow. 

The kids are flipping out outside. 

Henry spots them and drops the cage, almost like he’s Garnet and just spotted Stevonnie. While all the other dad’s are freaking out/fawning/curious, Glenn lifts their glasses and theres four eyes and he drops the glasses and never mentions this again. 

Rj: hi um. I'm a dad.... Yeah. So I'm here tooooooo frickin kill a demon cow let's do this Rj: got the good dad vibes comin out of my butt

For realsies though Terry should be outside, so they unfuse for the cow thing and the bbq but then Dennis happens. 

Second dad-son fusion: Dennis: are you sure you've got this?  Ron: i can do it  TJ: he can DO it dad GIVE ME YOUR HAND

RJ’s an arcane trickster and it’s real cool and Dennis looks so jealous ha ha ha and also they separate after the fight and suddenly Terry’s unsettled and needs to talk to Ron for a second because “Hey Dad is Dennis not real????????” 

Third dad-son fusion: is way less eventful, but who the heck can say no to more reasons to cry about the Wilsons at the tail end of the Supper Bowl arc? 

Fusion is not a replacement for talking, but it is a bit smoother in communicating emotions. It doesn’t happen until the end of their talk, when Darryl’s got his arm around Grant. I don’t think either of them are super attached to this whole fusion thing, (If Grant is, it certainly wasn’t his dad he’d been thinking about trying it with. Maybe one of the other kids… “maybe Terry.”) so they may not even pick a name. Henry certainly cries at least twice as hard, but when they want to just get something to eat and maybe just hang out for a while, nobody pushes. 

I think the most important part of this is that it gives Grant a kind of… emotional break. Lets him feel something nice again— like he does in the show, too, but in a way that’s a bit more stable while it lasts. Like the feeling when you’re a kid on a long car ride with your parents, one that ends in getting home late and you’ve fallen asleep and they carry you out of the car. 

Good things for Grant Wilson for til forever. 

Somewhere in that arc, though, Glenn approaches Henry by themselves. Glenn’s not really a feelings guy, but whatever’s going on in Henry’s head is a problem. It’s a one-up the o-dads have on them, and they can’t afford that right now. 

Glenn: so you like... Really don't hardly remember being a kid?  Henry: Glenn, I don't want to talk about it  Glenn: I bet your dad's gonna wanna talk about it  Henry: well... i don't care what he wants  Glenn:... You seriously don't know how you got to earth?  Henry: [exasperated] the frick are you-- I got to earth like anyone else, Glenn. You know where babies come from, right?  Glenn: of course i fucking know where babies come from. A mommy and a daddy love each other very much and then their kid runs away so hard he skips dimensions  Henry: wh-- wait you-- do you think I'm an alien?  Glenn: obviously  Henry: Glenn that's-- [sighs, rubs his face] Glenn this isn't the kind of time for your conspiracies  Glenn: hey as far as I'm concerned, a man who sleeps with an axe under his pillow is a fool every night but one. and you shoot poison from your hands and shape shift into bears

Which adds nicely to the slide of heading to Oakveil next

Henry: y'know what. When we leave here, we can get my kids next.  Glenn: your interdimensional kids  Henry: to prove to you you're being crazy. Again.  Glenn: De Nial is a river man, and we left it back on earth

And one more dialogue bite, because…

Glenn: claim your powers latched onto you from this world all you want. But that language you and your dad spoke, didn't come out of the air, it came out of the door in your head

...fusion means the other dads get to learn about the metaphorical brain door. 

This brings us into the most recent arc, heading into Oakveil. He and Ron sneak in, and Beary tells Henry he’s home, and pieces start to click together. Henry’s from this world, so he understands why he’s had such a particular view on fusion and that basic cultural understanding. That it’s considered normal. And that it’s even normal for a kid’s first fusion to be with their parent. Their parent who loves them and knows them wants to see them grow. 

Bear Ry’Oak is not that. 

First O-dad fusion: Henry’s first fusion was with his dad. 

I think the worst thing is that, when fused with his dad, Hen doesn't feel like he's not himself. one of the interesting things about the Oaks is that they're kind of all slight alterations on the same traits. Like as gross as it feels to admit, Beary is just Henry but with the condescension turned up to a billion and his high horse is basically an elephant and no self-awareness or care for how others might have different perspectives from him

But Beary is still so overwhelming to Henry that it just flattens pretty much anything that makes Henry, Henry. Specifically the parts that Barry dislikes. like Henry's anger. To directly quote Aryashi: “Beary thinks using fusion for combat is barbaric. obviously fusion is for Conflict Resolution. Fuse with Beary so he can sort out your disagreement with him!”

(and then bathe in bleach)

So Beary finds them in Oakveil and Henry starts panicking and he tries to Handle Henry like he did when Henry was a kid, fusing with him to stomp down on his feelings to cut a panic attack or outburst off at the pass. If Henry's in no place to fight back it usually works, but if Ron's there--literally pressed against Henry's back--to see the fusion coming, maybe he reaches for a fusion, too, and lets Henry's instincts choose which pull to follow, and Henry's instincts choose Ron.

Seventh inter-dad fusion: Wren is suddenly there before Beary can even start his attempt to coach Henry through breathing (his half-effort to help Henry and be able to say that he tried freakin hate him) and is sitting on the ground and the disgusted look Beary gets seeing this. (Fusing with an outsider is something he considers so beneath his son.)

Beary:... Ah. Ronald.  Wren, existing, suddenly, and mostly being Ron's processing power as Henry's mental wheels try to slow down to match Ron's pace (cultivated through a childhood of dealing with Willy) rather than amp them both up: uhm... It's just Ron, actually Beary: would you mind... (there's other people around so he can't say "decontaminating") liberating my son. (as if ignoring the role his son had in choosing this fusion over his) Wren: Henry is uh... (me? Not me? Yes me, not up for this, we should go somewhere else that usually works fine, we can just leave and find the others and that'll be fine) he's good. We're good, we're gonna... (looking at the other people who look like Henry and the "not amping each other up” thing is working less and less)  Wren: bye

And then they just stand up and fast-walk away

Wren is either chill af and rolling with every punch or the living equivalent of a coke bottle that you popped a whole roll of mentos in and then closed immediately. At this moment, it’s very much the coke bottle side. Beary lets them go because he knows Henry will be back, and they make it just outside of town to where the others have just shown up before they fall apart. 

Ron: We found the door!  Darryl: what door?  Ron: the one in Henry's head!  And all the dads know what he's talking about Glenn: did you open it?  Henry: no  Ron: a little bit  Henry(probably now starting that panic attack): the anchors in there  Ron: his dad came out of it  Darryl: his dad???????? Henry, vulnerability, Oak: I AM FEELING VERY VULNERABLE RIGHT NOW AND I HATE IT  [chorus of mumbled sorrys] Ron: oh also Oakvale is Henry's home Darryl: WHAT Glenn: Uh hey anyone gonna pick up the phone cause I FUCKIN CALLED IT Henry: That's not my home! My home is with Mercedes back on Earth! Glenn: Yeah, this is just where you were born.  Henry: Glenn I swear to God-- Glenn: Dude lay off, I was agreeing with you! Home's where the heart meds are and all that jazz Darryl: Wait, you have heart meds? At home? When was the last time you took your heart meds? Glenn: Uhh... not since I came here? It's fiiiiiine. Never felt better! Ron: Not to interrupt but Henry's on the ground breathing funny. Glenn, are you sure you don't have any heart meds? Henry: being hugged by both of his sons in a simultaneous way that is not their normal simultaneous way (i.e. the Lord of Chaos way): WHY ARE MY SONS TALLER THAN ME Glenn: I'm more surprised that they're hugging you  Lord of Chaos: to assert dominance! Any moment now, we will turn this hug into a suplex!

And that basically brings us to now? I want a Triple Oak Fusion (the King of Chaos) but with how the fight with Beary went I’m not sure where it’ll go. OH YEAH. 

Autumn stopped fusing with Hen even when he was a kid because she couldn’t stand to see how much her son craved the approval of that evil man who stole her life away. And whether or not Henry ever fuses with anyone ever again after finding out he’s got Eldritch in him has gotta be up in the air. 

And at this point I could easily be convinced that the next inter-dad fusion is Darryl and Glenn, those beautiful idiots. They could be… Denn. Glarryl? We’ll workshop it. 

[faangirl101]

Webbed and flirty, Peter x reader

Peter parker x reader

Anonymous asked: Could you write a Peter Parker x reader where the reader is Peter Quills daughter and when her and Peter meet its like flirting plus Tony and Peter Q being dad’s? Thank you

Authors note: all you have to know is that Peter Quiell is “papa” and Tony stark is “dad”

MASTERLIST

“Parker”, my dad, tony stark, turned his back to me as he whispered low into the phone. The rest of the conversation was hard to judge from the whispered words i actually caught.

“Today”

“pyjamas”

“tell your aunt it's the internship”

He was talking to peter parker, of course. I mean, i am Tony stark's daughter after all, did he really think he could hide the fact that spider boy is peter parker? We used to go to the same school, peter and i, and still after being extremely attracted to him, i did not once have a real conversation with him. Then we graduated and everything was lost, well until i eavesdropped on my dads and overheard them mention peter parker. After that it wasn't hard to figure out the rest.

Peter Quill, my papa (which i called him to not mix him him up with my other Tony), sat trying to handle the ipod he got from Tony on his birthday. “Yo”, he bumped his shoulder with mine “this thing can keep like, 300 songs, can you pinch me darling, i just wanna be sure i'm not dreaming”. I rolled my eyes, trying to look uninterested, even if a smile was threatening from him being this happy “Dad, its 2018, catch up”.

He pointed his tongue out at me before putting his headphone in. Music streamed out, reaching my ears.

I was bored again. “Daaaaaad”, i muttered getting up and started walking after Tony. “Not now, pumpkin”, he reached out a finger in front of me shushing me. I don't like being hushed, long story short. i tried to speak again but Tony hushed me again. “No you don't have to bring your own own pyjamas, i've told you i've already made you a new suit”.

Before any of us really could react, i snatched the phone out of Tony grip and placed it onto my own ear. “Heya peter”, i tried to calm my beating heart and rising blush. Tony tried to take the phone back but i slipped out of his reach and jumped up on the coach were Peter was sitting. “h-hey”, i heard the teenage boy stutter on the other line. “y/n Stark, Tony's daughter here, we went to Italien class together”. i heard a nervous laugh on the other line “right. Starks daughter. Ummm, we never really talked, not the same friend circle”. I felt the blush rising up in my scalp, no matter how hard i tried to cool it down. I saw Tony grimace behind the yellow sunglasses as he mouthed “give it back”. But i wasn't done messing with him just yet. “Well that's all going to be changed when you come here, Spider boy, i can't wait to catch up with you”, i said with the sweetest voice i had, fluttering my eyelashes even if dad was the only one who saw. Then i bounced down from the couch and handed Tony back his phone. He was surprised, to say at least, not only because i knew Peter was spiderman… but also because i just flirted with him. Dad gave me one last warning look before leaving the room with the phone pressed tight against his ear. Right before the door slammed shut i heard him say “That, Penis parker, is my daughter. She's off limits, don't look at her and don't even think of her”. I couldn't wait until Peter got here.

Two hours later, after 1 pound of makeup and the cutest summer dress i had Peter finally arrived to Avengers tower. My face was glistering of highlighter and my lips covered in a soft pink making them look more swollen. The dress was simple, yellow and off shoulder. The end of it reached my mid thighs and showed of my new shaved tanned legs. My hair was just half up and half down, to keep it out of my face. Okay, i will admit i made myself this cute because Peter fricking Parker, was going to show up. And… well because i wanted to piss of my dad. I looked in the mirror, grimacing in different “cute” smiles to myself. “Hey peter”, i said to my reflections while fingering on the end of my hair tipps. I wasn't being cute, i looked like a complete idiot. Plus, i had nothing on Liz, makeup or not. It was a well known fact about Peters crush and who really blames him. Liz was so cute and incredibly smart and supportive, you just couldn't hate her. Its weird i had two dads that both are considered beautiful but still ended up looking compelly average. “Peter”, i smiled honestly into the mirror “hows life?”. How's life? really? I blew out a nervous breath while fixing my hair. Maybe i should just stay up here, safe with a book.

“Y/n”, My papa called “That pete kid is here”. I could feel the familiar blush rising again, fuck, i never blush this often. “Umm, peter, Mr Quill”, i heard Peter correct him and just to hear his voice made butterflies scatter in the depths of my abdomen. “Coming!”, I called back as i took one last look in the mirror. At this point, he was probably dating Liz so it really doesn't matter what i look like. I swung up the door, tripping out in the corridor out in the living room. And my entire body went into “i'm screwed” mode. Peter fucking Parker got hit by puberty. Real good. His hair was longer now, flowing down his forehead in small curls. I could see pure muscles through his his tight star-wars t-shirt. His usual blue hoodie was wrapped around his firm waist, and i thanked god he made the day hot enough for him to take of the hoodie. He was taller now, at least a head taller than me. Jesus, this boy always found new ways to make me shake of adrenaline. I decided it was weird to continue to stare like this so i walked forward to my dad. Peter looked at me, his jaw fell open i shock at the look of me, but it looked like he caught himself when Tony gave him a warning look. “Peter!”, I smile at his t-shirt “ha, nice one”. He looks down the t-shirt which says “i could make a star wars pun, but i don't wanna force it”. He smiled back up to me as he rubbed the backside of his neck nervously “umm thanks, i like your dress”. I blush again, dammit. “Watch it, kid”, i heard Tony mumble under his breath. Papa put a hand dad's shoulder and gives him a meaning look. Dad seems to relax a bit of his husbands hand. “What are you working on”, I asked looking past Peters shoulder. On a table was peter suit firmly folded. “Well, Peter keeps cutting out the baby monitor protocol”, Tony put his arms over his chest stubbornly. I rolled my eyes “come on dad, he's 18”. Even if i know Dad probably mouthed my words childishly for himself i chose to look at Peter instead “you hacked into the suits safe system through the video cord right?”. Peter nodded and i laughed for myself “yeah, weak spot. That's how i hack myself into the surveillance camera he put in my room”.

Peter smiled impressed “well, i tried taking away the support wheel protocol with the same tactive but the video cord was too deep so i  needed Ned´s help, he was pissed at me cause he rather build the death star lego set with me…”. The Boys eyes shots upen as he looks down at the ground stumbling “why would you say that, peter”. His nervosity was adorable. “How many pieces?”, i ask and can't help but to look fairly intresseded. I'm such a nerd, jesus. Peter take a step closer like he's about to whisper “3803”. I wrinkle my forehead “what? no way? its like 4016”. He chuckles shaking his head “nah nah, its a common knowledge that its 3803 pieces”. I laugh mockingly at him “oh god, you're such a noob, everybody knows it's 4016, look it up, jar jar”.

He pretend to look offended by my comment “Did you just call me jar jar? i'm obviously Han”.

I take a step closer without really thinking about it “yeah? who am i then, obi wan?”. He gives me something i would judge as a flirty smile “More like Leia”.

We are so close to eachother now i can feel his breath on my face. I make sure to look at his lips before dropping my risky line “why? because you wanna see me in a golden bikini?”.

That shuts him up but i still catch him looking at my lips, if only for a second.

“Hey! Hey”, Tony push me gently out of the way “That's enough”. While Dragging Peter down to the lab i can hear him mumble something similar to “Kids nowadays”. Papa putts a arm around my shoulder “take it easy on your dad, kay?”. I nod but in the back of my head i'm screaming “lies”. My papa's beard tickle me as he bends down to whisper in my ear “yeah, by the way, keep messing with your dad. I haven't seen him this ireeterad since his and Stevens fight. he's really hot when he's bothered”. I groan pushing him away “Ewww, papa?! i didn't need to know that. Eeeww, pictures in my head”. Papa winked at me while clicking his tongue “plus i think that Peter kid really likes you. he's a good kid that would do  good to you”.

“Peter?”, i whisper scream while looking around the lab. According to JARVIS, Dad left about 20 minutes ago and Peter is still in the building. When i dint get an answer i tip toe further into the room “Parker?”. I hear a thumb followed by some swear words. On a bench, Peter sat grasping onto his head while groaning. I whine for myself before speaking out “I'm sorry if i startled you”. peter lets out a mix of a chuckle and a gasp “no problem, my spider senses should have sensed you coming in”. I walk over to him, seemed to surprise him the second time this hour by putting a hand on his head. “Lemme look at it”, i whisper as i try to ignore how good his soft locks feel between my fingers. He nod as he moves the chair under him so he sits right in front of me. I move my fingers gently through his hair, careful not to accidently press to hard. “You have soft hair, what conditioner do you use?”, i say jocklingy to light up the situation. It seems to work as he chuckles under me. It was like a silent approval to make him laugh as i smile proudly. Even if i'm way past looking for a wound, i continue to move my hands through his soft hair. i can't help it. it smells so good and i can't help but to think how it would feel between my hands while he eats me out. A warmth spreads through my stomach as i try to swallow down my desire. “That feels good”, he mumbles so low i just barely managed to hear him. “for both of us”, i whisper back as i can feel him push his head closer to me like he's chasing my touch. In the action the stroller on the chair bumps into my shoes, knocking me out of balance. But Peter seems to see this seconds before me as im suddenly  being catched by my waist and falls forward instead. I land on top of his lap, my sundress flying up to fall like a duvet over his jeans and my thighs. I'm out of breath, so surprised over the past seconds. His hands are still on my hips, keeping me from falling again.

I realize the situation i'm in. This looked wrong, sure, but it felt so right. “Thanks”, i mumble and do the mistake to look into his eyes. He's looking right ame me at the same time, and were stuck in eachothers iris. His eyes are dark, dangerously dark, like a promise about the things he could do. They pupil dilate at the sight of you. I lick my dry lips and he follows the action. I can feel the touch of his hands burn though the material of my dress and mek me all hot and giddy. I can feel his muscles as my hands are on top of his shoulders.

He looks down, like he's hiding a smile. I swallow the lump of anxiety threatening in my throat. “Umm”, he muttered as he slowly looks up at me “i really-y, like reeeeally want to kiss you right now”. I can feel the smile i try to hide escape and light up my face. My heart is so painfully big, that's what it feels like, like it's going to explode inside me. “You better, i've been waiting on it since the first year on collage. Kiss me now, Han”.

He gives me a honest smile, like a kid on christmas morning as he starts leaning in.

I close my eyes as i wait for his lips to meet mine. But instead i feel his hot breath on top them as he mumbles “you know, i had a major crush on you but then i became Spiderman and Tony and i decided to try to keep you out of this life”. I chaste a small peck against his soft lips “just kiss me, parker”. He olbigates at one's and move his head to the side to press his lips against mine. Finally after 3 years of longing he kiss me so i can't really hold back the moan. that only seems to spear him on as hand hug my neck so he can press me closer. He taste like green tea and lemon mints. My hands go back to his locks, still surprised over how soft they are. His tongue swipes over my inner lips, begging for permission. I smile against the soft sensation but dont grant him he pleasure. His hand suddenly squeeze my ass leaving me gasping of shook. He takes advantage of my open mouth to move his tongue inside my mouth. It's so much, his wet lips, his hand, his curls bouncing between my fingers. I press my lower part hard against him out of pure instinct. I realized it turned out almost like a grind against his pants. He didn't seem to mind. “Fuck”, he groans as he starts kissing my jaw in tickles soft pecks “you are perfect”. I giggle as his pecks finds their way to a ticklish point. “Come here, big boy”, i'm completely out of breath from the kissing but can't wait another minute for his lips against mine again. Just as he's about to kiss me again we get interrupted by a loud voice “Parker?!”. Fuck. We stumble away from him and i stroke down my dress as fast as i can. “I told you one thing”, My dad point at Peter, who looks like a scared child getting caught doing something bad “not to touch my daughter”. At this point i'm starting to get tired of Tony “please daddy’”. I rarely call him daddy, and it seems to actually catch is attention. I walk forward and place both of my hands on his bearded cheeks “Just.. its 2018 dad, i don't need your approval, okay. I really like Peter. Not to be rude or anything, but could you maybe leave not, old man, we were in the middle of something”.

Dad scoffs offended but still lowers his finger. I can hear Papa laughing from the middle of the lab “yeah, tony, let the kids have their fun”. Like usually, i'm thankful Peter is actually my cool dad. “You heard your husband”, i smile, almost mockingly “let me have my fun”. Tony scoff again before pointing at Peter “i swear on my stark industri, if i found out you two have…. cuddled, i'm going to make sure to pull enough strings so you can't get a job in all of America”. Peters is beyond terrified as his adams apple move “yes, sir”. i nod as a silent “thank you” to Tony as i make my way back to Peter. “So”, i slide my hands over his shoulders “where were we?”. He shift his eyes between my dad's and i “i don't really feel safe kissing in front of them”. I chuckle well pressing my nose against his “they will just have to deal with it”. Then he pressed his lips against mine softly and sweet. My dad might not be 100 % okay with Peter at the moment, but i know he will eventually. So right now, it's all good.

[youre-not-my-real-mom]

Taking her

You are taken by Hydra. Told from Bucky's thoughts on the matter.

Warnings: Angst, death, Bucky feels

          They took her.

           You were gone.

           Just last week, the both of us were sitting on my bed. You were drawing circles on my chest and I simply stared down at you, trying to guess what shape was trying to take place at the end of your fingertips.

           Now…you were gone.

           Hydra had taken you. Just like they take every goddamn good thing in my life.

           I’m going to get you back.

           I stumble into the conference room. All eyes turn to stare at me. I ignore them and slump into my seat. I try extremely hard to not notice the empty seat to my left. Steve places a hand on my right shoulder.

           Stark starts the meeting explaining how we were going to infiltrate the base they believe you are being held in. Afterwards, we all gear up.

           The quinjet is prepped and ready to go and soon we’re airborne. My grief slowly burns away into anger and an eerie calm takes over me. Steve notices, but chooses to wisely not say anything. They all know I’ll stop at nothing to get you back.

           The door barely lands on the ground before I’m jumping out and sprinting in the direction of the base. I hear the others try to keep up. In my ear, Steve whispers for me to slow down. I listen finally as the base comes into view over the ridge and the rest of the team slows t a halt next to me

           Quickly and efficiently, in a way only Steve can muster, he recites the plan. We break up and I head for the front door. We decided I’d be a great distraction, make them think I came alone. I bust down the door and hardly spare the guards in my way a glance as I take them all out. I drop my magazine and replace it with a new one before taking off down the halls. Guards continue to drop at my hand as I make my way to the cells, or where we believe the cells are.

           Grunts and groans fill my ear as my team is slowly uncovered.

           So much for a distraction.

           I don’t stop and finally find myself in front of huge steel doors. Turning the giant wheel that serves as a handle, I grip my gun and stand off to the side, letting the door swing open.

           Gunshots ring out from inside, but slow when no one appears; that’s when I show myself. The guards only get a brief glimpse of me. I slither inside before they even hit the ground. Frustration overtakes me as every cell I pass comes up empty. I reach the last cell holding my breath… nothing.

           I want to scream. I need to scream. Instead, I whisper quite vehemently into the comm, “She’s not here.”

           Steve answers first. “Are you sure?”

           “Of course I’m fucking sure. Every last cell is empty.”

           No one knows what to say for a few seconds and all I hear is people getting smacked around, presumably the guards.

           “Okay. Everyone back to the jet. I’m almost down downloading all their files. Isn’t much, but hopefully there’s something in here that can help us…”

           The others agree. I have to clear my throat a couple times to affirm and turn to the doorway.

           I stop in my tracks and intake a breath.

           The team are asking me what happened. I hear Steve saying he’s coming to me. I can’t find my words…

           I can’t find them because you are standing in the doorway.

              I whisper your name and hear everyone on the comms freeze. It’s only for a second before I hear Steve pounding his way to me, faster than ever.

           I take a step towards you, my arms outstretched.

           Why haven’t you run into my arms yet? You love to run into my arms.

           I keep taking small, slow steps towards you, fearing if I go any faster, you’ll disappear.

           So close. I’m so close to you when another man steps out from out in the hallway, halting my progress to assess this new player. He’s wearing a lab coat, but underneath is a bullet-resistant vest. He laughs.

           “Hello Soldier. Having a good time?”

           No words come out of my mouth. I’m in shock as you haven’t moved away from the man. In fact, you take a protective stance beside him. A protective stance against me.

           I’m the enemy in your eyes.

           Except your eyes aren’t showing any kind of emotion at all. They don’t hold the slight sparkle that burns bright whenever you laugh or the wetness of tears when you get so angry you just cry out of frustration.

           They hold nothing but the look of someone completely dead inside.

           They look like my own when I was the Winter Soldier. Before I met you.

           A shiver runs down my spine as realization washes over me and it’s almost enough to bring me to my knees.

           “I see you’re all caught up soldier. You see, our new protégé has progressed much faster than you ever did due to some brand-new technology. She doesn’t remember you… and if I have my way, she never will.”

           Her eyes stay focused on me, dead and unmoving.

           Anger once again resurfaces and I reach for my gun I had holstered earlier. Before I know what hit me, I’m on my back, staring up into your beautiful eyes. They may not recognize me, but their beauty refuses to fade. You have me pinned: a knee on my waist, a hand on my throat and the other holding my left arm. I try to move, but barely manage to squirm a little bit.

           “I should have waned you Soldier to not make any sudden moves. She’s very protective.”

           I stare into your eyes, hoping for a glimpse of the real you. There’s nothing but a calm coldness.

           “Babe,” I start to whisper despite the hand at my throat. “Babe. Please. Snap out of this. It’s me. Bucky. Please, you’re stronger than this.”

           The hand simply tightens its hold, cutting off any other words.

           The Hydra scientist laughs again. “It’s not going to work, Soldier. She’s gone. For good. Now, we are going to leave and you’re going to let us. Come Драгоценный (precious one).”

           The hand releases from my neck and I scramble to my feet. You start to walk away from me. I grab your hand and you turn. For a split second, I believe you are going to just change your mind and come with me back home. Then your hand flies to punch me in the face. It’s so fast I don’t see it happening until it’s over and I’m back on the floor.

           I glance up in time to see you disappear into the hallway with the scientist. Tears cloud my vision.

           I lost you again.

           Steve soon fills my vision, asking what happened. I tell him I’ll explain on the jet and we hurry back together. Outside, I search for any sign of you, but no luck.

           They took you again.

           On the jet, everyone looks mostly okay with only some scrapes and bruises. Funny enough, I have the biggest bruise from where your sit connected with my face.

           “What happened Barnes? Run into wall?”

           Stark laughs at his own joke.

           “No. It was Y/N.”

           The birds outside don’t even chirp to fill the void my words left.

           “Y/N? Are you sure?”

           I nod to Natasha. “Yes, it was her… and a man, scientist.” I correct myself, venom filling my voice. “Hydra have made her into the next Winter Soldier. Only this time, she’s stronger, faster, more everything. She took me down before I could blink.”

           Bruce looks about ready to lose it. Tony’s jaw couldn’t be any closer to the floor. Steve is giving me that pity look I hate so fricking much. Nat and Clint stare at one another, seeming to have one of their private conversation. I… well, I feel broken. I take a seat before my legs give out on me and shortly after, Steve plants himself by my side. He reassures me that this isn’t my fault and how we’re all going to find a way to fix it.

           I know it makes me horrible but I just want to scream at him.

 It’s two weeks later when we get a hit on your location. France. We suit up and head out. No one speaks, but no one has to. Everyone knows what’s at stake here. You. Your life. Your mind.

           I vow to save you. I will save you. I have to save you.

           We touch down in a clearing and disembark. The facility isn’t that hard to enter. In fact, it’s too easy. The nagging sensation blooms in my head and stomach, but I ignore it. I need to find you.

           And find you, I do.

           You are waiting for me in a large open room, just standing in the middle of it. It appears to be a room for sparring considering the mats on the floor. You don’t move as slowly approach, whispering to the team that I found you and for them to steer clear until I’ve assessed the situation.

           Your eyes are so cold. It makes me shiver as you stare me down. I’m halfway to you when you burst into action. Sprinting directly towards me, I barely have time to take a defensive stance before you fly through the air with a foot aiming for my head. I manage to block that attack and the next few. You finally catch me in the ribs and it hurts like a mother fucker.

           You taught me that phrase.

           A punch to the face snaps me back into reality.

           We’re a flurry of movements and find when I’m not caught off-guard, I can stand my own against you.

           We break apart, both breathing heavily. Another shiver sets down my spine at your hard stare. I decide to try words again.

           “Babe. Can ya hear me? I need my Babygirl back. I love you. Please come back to me.”

           The stare remains in place and that’s when I notice the camera in the corner of the room. Of course they are watching us. They always were ones to sit back and observe scenarios.

           I take a single step forward and your body goes ridged. I hold my hands up in surrender and try to appear us unthreatening as possible.

           “Love.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “Please, help me out here. We can go home. Watch one of your favorite horror movies. I’ll draw you a bubble bath and massage your feet. You can rant about anything you want and I won’t say a word. Just, please… come back to me…”

           When your face makes no change, I almost drop to my knees. As it is, tears fill my eyes. I hear the team communicating over the comms. They are saying this is a trap. I knew that the second I stepped into the room. They set us up. Hydra wants to tae even more from me than they already have. My team’s grunts and groans fill my ears as they fight the force that sprung up on them. I should go and help, but you’re my mission. I need you to come with me. I need you to come home.

           Your breathing becomes more even, as mine becomes more erratic. You blur behind the tears in my eyes… and your eyes still don’t change.

           This isn’t you. If you saw me crying, you would’ve curled your arms around me and whispered soothing words in my ear. You’d take me to our room and lay me on the bed. You’d tuck me in and offer to read a story to me because you say you like to read to me out loud. We both know that you only do it because I secretly love hearing your voice read to me, but neither of us admit it and we’re okay with that.

           I would love to be able to hear your voice right now. Your real voice. Not how you sound as the robot they made you into.

           Suddenly, you’re running towards me again. I’m so lost in thoughts about you. You jump on top of me and I struggle to get out of your grasp. You’re reaching for my gun and I wrestle you for control of it. Suddenly a gunshot rings out.

           You stop and your eyes go big. You turn your head down to watch the blood staining your shirt for a few seconds before turning back to me. Your eyes show you’re surprised. I’m surprised too. I just shot you.

           As if in slow motion, I watch you fall to the ground. I catch you before you fall. You don’t fight me anymore. You don’t have the energy. I see you’re fading fast and once again, tears fill my eyes.

           “Babygirl. Baby. Pease don’t die on me. You can’t. I sorry. I’m so sorry.”

           My sobs echo in the large room and your expression remains unchanged.

           “I never meant for this to happen. I love you so much.”

           Your eyes start to flutter and I feel your heartbeat slow down.

           “I’m so sorry love. I’m sorry. It was never supposed to end this way. I love you. You’re my whole life.”

           I grip you tight and hold you. My tears never stop falling as I look into your eyes. They appear duller now. But they are focused on me. I watch you part your beautiful lips and suck in a breath. I lean closer to hear what you have to say. Hope flares in my chest out of nowhere… then you start to speak slow and croaky, but steady and lacking any type of emotion.

           “You’re my mission.”

           You go limp and I know I truly lost you. They took you from me for good.

           “You were mine too.”

[brittabroad]

Moving out of London

Well can we talk emotional? Like not even in the way of “OMG I’M GONNA MISS ALL THIS” more like: “I’M A PACK RAT I DON’T LIKE THIS FEELING OF TRYING TO PACK AND DISCARD STUFF DURING CHRISTMAS ‘HOLIDAYS’! And, am I getting my deposit back coz it’s now technically a 2 weeks notice instead of 1 month... I’m stressed”!

We’ll just skip over the breakdown New Year’s Eve night I had over trying to pack the last little bit of things and worrying that I’ve still not given away enough and discarded enough and shipped back enough! Because I went off to see the fireworks to just get outta there and it did me a world of good!!!

I watched them and I thought: “These are fantastic. Wow really pretty! What luck I have to be here bringing in another year! I need to stop stressing coz tomorrow I’ll be off for a fun time...” and so on... It was great!

So then I Skyped my family from Tower Hill station which was great and I felt a bit better after that too!

JANUARY 1, 2017

Day of packing went well actually on the 1st! Got all done I wanted except for: needing to send 2 more packages last min and having the post office closed and washing the floors of the room.

But my roomie across the hall saw me packing and we spoke and he offered to help me which pulled a lot of stress away! And washing of the floors wasn’t a huge priority coz they’re pretty clean to begin with...

I worried that Molly and Zahid were ignoring me or something coz they didn’t come out of their rooms once as I was going up and down stairs clearly with heavy bags thudding meaning I’m getting ready to go I would think. But then Molly did come out and we chat briefly and I did my dishes and cried a little and she encouraged me. And Zahid came a short time later as I was eating (Molly had leftovers to share and Pepsi) and we chat a bit too and he seemed in good spirits towards me so I felt less dejected and I explained fully that I really wished that things weren’t the way they were and that I would have stayed the full time if I could have but it might affect my future reentry and he completely understood saying that Theresa May (prime minister) is an idiot and making immigration decisions that are making it harder to enter the UK and so forth so ya

Then he went to shower saying for me to wait and he’ll say goodbye etc so Molly and I had tea I chose some of my Earl Grey and she put whipped cream on top. I think I have a new fav drink XD hehe We spoke briefly about finding somebody to marry and she clearly has different ideas about that than to me. She says you should know somebody fully after a month and really get to know them and then you can marry if they’re perfect for you... She grew up though in a society that sort of arranges marriages and encourages marriages so her views are different...

Then Zahid helped me to Plaistow station (THANK GOD BECAUSE FRICK IT WAS RAINING). And as I go get on the train my bungee cord falls onto the tracks. FFFFF. I get off and Zahid grabs his umbrella to try and scoop it up. I drop that too coz of shaking hands and slippery-ness with the wetness of it all. So I go fetch a worker who brings one of those trash picker upper thingies and he’s like pissed at me and says “why were you standing so close to the edge you need to always be behind the yellow line” and I’m like “I WAS GETTING ON THE TRAIN IT FELL BETWEEN THE GAP ACCIDENTALLY” and geeze. But we got our things back, I got on the train and sorta relaxed a bit coz I knew I was on my way!

Got off at Victoria and that does not have a lift... WHY THE HECK NOT?! IT’S A LEGIT TRAIN STATION PEOPLE TRAVEL WITH BAGS ALL THE TIME YO is it coz I was at the District line part? Who knows. But there were wonderful people (men) who helped me with the stairs so bless them!

I figured out I could push the bags together in a T shape with the I being my smaller bag and the - being the bigger bag that has the better wheels then I just hold the handle of the big one and other hand on the back of the small and push away! Works well on smooth surfaces, less so on rough but it’s my small bag that has dud wheels so they get caught up sometimes when you first try to get going :/

I want to refund my Oyster. Well the terminal that does that is CLOSED. (-_-) sheesh.

So off to the coach station I decide to go. I see a bus number 11. “Do you go to the coach station?” *nod* “Brilliant”.

Got off and pushed my way into the station with time to spare! Well let’s go refund the oyster at the ticket oyster thing (all the way on the other side to where I need to be) but the floors are smooth so no problem. Get there see a sign you can only do it at the underground stations or information centres. FFF that’s fine I have 5 pounds deposit and 1.50 left so if need be I can leave it if I cannot refund online via my account...

So push my way towards international departures. A guy sees me struggle with the bags (readjusting to cross a road terrain change over a bump) so he helps me with one over to the terminal. Bless him.

I see a sign that says CHECK IN so I do that and a short time later we are allowed to board! I am not allowed to take the carry on suitcase (with fragile stuff inside) with me on it has to go under the coach. And man asks if I paid for extra baggage and I BS’d my way through an answer and he let me on without paying for that.

I find a seat and suddenly the radio is playing ‘All I Ask of You’ from PotO I’m astonished! They go on to interview Cameron Mackintosh too and play a ‘Hamilton’ song before the coach starts up and we have no radio.

Oh I did have enough time to get off the coach before departure to fill my water bottle (told the shopkeeper I needed to take medication so he’d give me free tap water)...

And we went on our way! I ate the food Molly gave me but I had no fork so I used the plastic bag over my fingers lol to eat and pick out the hot peppers; tedious...

Saw Big Ben and parliament one last time from the south of the river and that was absolutely lovely looking in the night!

Then I read for about an hour and a half maybe more of @theawkwarddeadgirl and I’s RP (yes we have that much and more because we are AWESOME) haha... Then I was feeling carsick and we got to Dover so I looked around coz we were boarding a ferry to Calais, France anyway!

white cliffs of Dover!

Had to get off the coach when on the ferry so I sat by a window and wrote to my penpal.

the four musketeers: Paddington, Paddy, Keetchka and me

Also gandered at the bruises I’ve inflicted during packing and moving...

By the time we were on the coach again it was real late almost 1 am I think I recall reading...

I tried to sleep a bit but probably only got an hour maybe hour and a half total. We did stop in “Holland” for 15 mins where I heard some sort of shouting going on and later a coach passenger gets back on and says “that mutherfucker” or something and I’m like WHOA WHAT’S GONE DOWN?!

Saw him and another passenger get off at the next stop a short time later and that dude threw his hands up at the guy and left then black dude shook his head and went opposite direction.

The coach driver announced the name of the station not the city we were in when we got to Amsterdam so I stayed on as did a few others. He then had to get back on and tell us “Amsterdam” lol but now I’m looking at the clock like “I have to wait an hour and a half in this cold?” well the metro station was literally just gates to get in and then who knows what behind it so I waited in there cold and needing to pee!

At last I went to board coach 2 but driver is grumpy and literally pushes me towards the doors of the Eurolines building when I tell him I didn’t do the check in there but I have a ticket. He’s pissed because there’s 5 mins til departure. I had NO clue I needed to check in again if I had that ticket from the check in back in London. So chill.

Then lady inside has no chill either saying “Where were you?!” because check in should be up to 15 mins before departure and “all the other passengers for your coach were here waiting”. I tried to explain that I didn’t know I needed to come NOT TO MENTION their building wasn’t open when I arrived by my other coach so suck it ok?

I get down the steps again to try and board the coach and the guy is mad again because I need to load luggage on the other side. HAVE. SOME. CHILL. I AM NOT A MIND READER I DO NOT KNOW. And I’m in a foreign country with no sleep really under my belt and it’s 7 am I’ve been out in the cold since 5:20 so CALM IT.

I get on the coach and the guy I sit beside seems a bit reserved like pulling away from me almost so I feel like I’ve disturbed him on his phone there... I go to the toilet as the coach rolls on. Not fun but NECESSARY yo lol

Then I pull out my laptop coz we have wifi on this one! So I email my Mom with my itinerary and my flatmate telling him thank you and here’s what’s in the packages for him to put for the customs form. And I’m typing to a tumblr follower who messaged me when guy beside me asks me if I’m going to Denmark... I’m alarmed coz I was telling the follower that I’m excited for going to The Netherlands and so long as it doesn’t have disappointing food like Denmark I’ll be good! and then he spoke up so I’m like: HE’S READING WHAT I’M WRITING. But no turns out he’s headed for Copenhagen and wanted to know whether he could get off some place else coz he’s going to a funeral or something and it’d be more convenient not to be getting off at Copenhagen...

Anyway he chats me up. I learn he’s Egyptian and that he used to be in the military for 14 years and he got out of it because he said he’d go crazy if he kept it up with the stress and what he’d seen. So now he is a safety consultant kinda freelance for companies and schools and so forth so he travels to new assignments every year or so. He does similar work to his military career but obviously not in life and death situations now. He’s got a mother and a sister and a cat and he seems to have a great sense of humour and is quite friendly! He gave me his card so that I can contact him and get the contact info for a Canadian woman who runs overseas schools especially in Egypt.

And as the sun comes up and we’re chatting I’m enjoying the view of the rolling fields, hills and sheep sprinkled about them.

We arrive to Groningen earlier than I expected even though we left late... And I bid him goodbye because now it’s time to start Phase 2!

I’M OFFICIALLY NO LONGER A LONDON LIVER LOL

[inspiringcreator]

This Crappy Life: Episode Seven

"What the hell is going on?" Thomas threw his cell phone at the dashboard. It bounced off the windshield, cracking the screen. "I keep getting some damn recording."

"Dude, I told you the phones are out." Derek shifted on the bench seat pushing his thigh against mine.

Thomas's jaw hardened, but he didn't speak as he stared at the road. I was feeling the same way. What was there to say?

We'd tried the radio again and still failed to get a signal, which was really beginning to scare me. My eyes kept wandering back to the unending stream of numbers as the radio cycled continuously.

Thankfully, we decided to leave Derek's motorcycle behind for our little escapade. When I saw Thomas pull around his beefed out Ford truck, my jaw dropped. The thing was fricking huge with gigantic tires. And when I say gigantic, I mean it. A three foot lift is ridiculous when you're trying to get into any vehicle, and I'm a basketball player who has to make jump shots. Well, I'm only five foot six, but still.

What the hell was Thomas thinking when he made his truck so tall? Oh, wait. He wanted to grab every female ass that tried to get in. Go figure.

Or maybe he was a monster truck fanboy, but I couldn't imagine Thomas using this thing to crush a line of vehicles. He apparently had a relationship with it because when the phone bounced off the windshield, he didn't give one crap about checking the phone as he rubbed his fingers over the glass windshield to check for cracks.

So yeah, here I was, riding with two strange men in a metallic green monster truck, headed toward a warehouse to steal drugs on a school night. Wow. My life couldn't get any better.

And lucky me was squished in between them. I mean, they didn't even ask where I would be most comfortable. That's how guys are though. They always assume the window seat is automatically theirs.

Even after his outburst, Thomas rested his wrist over the steering wheel like we were going on a nice evening drive. How could he look so relaxed at a time like this?

My legs were bouncing like crazy. They did the same thing when I was on the court, waiting for Coach to put me back in the game. I needed my basketball and needed to run some drills or something.

Damn. I was antsy as hell.

The fact that Thomas had a gun tucked in his jeans worried me. What if they had to use it? What if one of them ended up shot? God. What the hell were we doing? Our families needed help, but there had to be another way. A better way.

Derek moved his hand over my knee to calm the bouncing, but I pulled my leg away from him, balling up further into my middle seat, straddling the stick shift.

Thomas glanced at me. "You're not gonna pee your pants are you?"

What did he just ask me? Fury pulsed through my veins. "No! I'm just freaking out because I'm worried. No one has discussed how this will go down, and we need a plan. Plans help keep me calm."

"Whoa. Slow down killer, you're gonna hurt yourself with all that thinking. You might break a blood vessel." Thomas patted my leg with a smile.

I ripped my leg away and glanced to Derek for help. Derek shrugged and gave me a "he has a point" grin.

Oh my God! It was time to school these two jerks before I hurt one of them. They needed to understand who they were dealing with.

"I'm going to tell you this one time and one time only. If you ever talk to me like that again, I'll punch you in the throat!" I shouted at Thomas who just smirked.

Oh no he didn't. "You might think I'm one of your prissy little girl toys, but I'll have you know I have a lot more goddamn self-respect than any of them. Hell will have to freeze over for you to ever find me in your bed because I'm not that type of girl. I'm the captain of Brooks Varsity basketball team, and I'm the main reason our team won the last two championships." I threw my hands up as I gave one loud laugh. "And I'm graduating with honors. I've been accepted to Ivy League colleges. So stop treating me like I'm some stupid bimbo you picked up at a bar to screw! Talk to me like I have a brain because believe me if you don't, I'll make you regret it."

Derek burst out laughing. The sound was so surprising I had to suppress a smile.

Thomas nodded, contemplating a comeback.

"Umm... okay... I'm not sure what to say other than," Thomas reached in between my legs to shift, "I'm sorry. From now on, I'll remember you have a brain."

My brow pinched as I eyed Thomas, trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic, but he appeared to be sincere. Not the reaction I expected, but whatever. My rant had successfully penetrated his man-whore exterior and just like that, the argument was over.

"So? What's the plan?" I asked.

Thomas gave me a crooked smile. "Alright, smartypants. I need you to go to security and distract them while we steal—"

"Not gonna happen," Derek spoke over Thomas.

"What? Why?" I asked. "I can help. I could make up some story about a guy who's after me, and I'd blame him for this." I pointed to my cheek.

"You're not going in, Casey. This is dangerous. If we get caught, I can't have you going to jail." Derek's eyebrows rose as he pressed his lips together. "We're going in, and you're waiting in the truck. If we're not back in fifteen minutes that means something bad happened, and we're not coming back out. You drive the truck to your house and tell everyone what happened."

"What do you mean? There are no piggies to haul us in. I have a gun. All we have to do is overpower Jon and Danny and run, but I'm sure they'll never find out if we do it right. Candi should be in pharmaceuticals tonight, and last time I checked, she was begging to get some. I've been putting her off for months, Bro. I told you that." Thomas tapped the steering wheel with his thumb as he chuckled to himself. The thought of Thomas pushing multiple girls away made me cringe.

"You think a lot of yourself, don't you?" I yelled without thinking. The words just came out.

Thomas grinned and nodded, stopping for the intersection. "Girl, you don't get it. Women are always throwing themselves at me. It gets old."

He did not just say that.

"Wow. It must be so hard being you, Thomas. Girls bowing at your feet, competing for your attention. You must have such a hard life." I puckered my bottom lip in a mock pout.

When he stopped at the sign, Thomas reached over my leg to down shift just as his dark gaze met mine. "You better pull that lip back in before I lick it."

I sucked in my lip, and Thomas's eyes flicked to my mouth. The way he studied my mouth was... well, intoxicating. His gaze lifted to meet mine. The thought of Thomas's tongue sliding over my bottom lip made my toes curl.

"Dude, stop! She's off limits. Got that?" The words seethed from Derek, low and harsh. It was a promise of violence if Thomas argued.

That snapped Thomas and I out of whatever trance we were in.

I turned my head to Derek. His glare could drill holes through Thomas. He was grinding his back teeth together and obviously livid. Why was Derek so upset? There were so many important things to be upset over. Not this. Thomas was obviously being his typical man-whore self.

"It's okay," I whispered, poking Derek's leg. I was trying to get him to calm down. Derek didn't stop glaring as he caught my hand and held it.

Uh. I seriously didn't know what to do. I mean, I just met Derek and knew nothing about him, but yeah, this was all so confusing because I couldn't stop myself from reveling in his warmth. I loved how his hand was strong and protective over mine.

Thomas chuckled, but it sounded fake. "You two got something going on I don't know about?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Derek squeezed my hand, silencing me.

"You got a problem with that?" Derek's tone was venomous.

"Nah. I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to step on your toes." Thomas's whiskey brown eyes met mine as we turned into a huge empty parking lot. "Sorry, Casey. I'm just not right in the head. I... I guess I'm looking for... well, shit... I don't know what I was thinking. Won't happen again. Forgive me?"

I nodded way too fast. Derek released my hand, which should've been a relief, but I wanted it back. Instead, Derek wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him.

I scooted closer as he pressed his soft lips to my ear. "I'm sorry. I'll tell you why later."

His hot breath caused my whole body to become aware of our proximity. He was pretending and there was a reason. Whatever. His arm felt good wrapped around me as I leaned more into him.

"What do you think, Der? Just walk in like we own the place, and if anyone asks, I'll tell them I left something in my locker. Then when we get back there, I'll tell Candi to meet me in the employee restroom for a quickie. And--"

"You're going to have sex right now?" The words just erupted out of me. Again. I needed to stop that.

Derek's arm tensed.

Thomas furrowed his brow as he circled the truck around the gigantic warehouse. "I hadn't planned on it, but... I might not be coming back here to work if they review the security footage, so yeah, maybe I'll take Candi to plow town."

My lip curled. "You're kidding right?"

"He's messing with you." Derek shook me. "Of course, he's not having sex. We need Candi to leave pharmaceuticals for five minutes so we can grab and split."

Oh. I was just talking about being smart and I didn't even catch on to the easiest trick in the book--distract with sex--or something like that.

Damn, I needed to focus. Mom's battered face came to mind. "How long do you think you'll be?"

We rolled around the back of the warehouse, unveiling two smaller buildings behind it. Thomas pulled into a parking spot thirty feet from the entrance. This place was massive. The buildings weren't much to look at with their dull white exterior, but they created the buildings to store items, not to win beauty pageants.

I glanced around us, counting only five other vehicles. "This place is dead. Is it always like this?"

"Depends on the orders. It's been a slow week." Thomas pulled the gun from the back of his jeans to check if it was loaded. It was.

My legs bounced.

"Hey," Derek ran his fingers down my arm. "Look at me."

I bit my lips between my teeth and did as he said.

His blue eyes heated. "This is the easy stuff. In and out."

"In and out. In and out," Thomas said in a smooth, seductive tone. "In and out of Candi."

WTF? I whipped around and punched Thomas in the shoulder over and over.

"Hey. Hey!" Thomas wasn't doing much to defend himself as he smiled. "Okay. Okay. Stop. Stop! Now that hurts. Stop! I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry."

When I stopped, he wasn't smiling anymore. This boy brought out a side of me I'd never seen. What was that like twenty punches? Holy hell. My face was on fire. Derek's arm was no longer around me, and my whole body was on the seat, looming over Thomas. Sweat beaded on my forehead. What the hell was wrong with me?

I'd backed Thomas against his window and he was watching me like I would start up again.

"Your face." The words were barely a whisper as Thomas reached up and reattached a band-aid. When his fingers ran over my jaw, he was gentle.

I tensed up. I didn't want a guy like him touching me. Guys like him did this crap to all the girls.

He studied my face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry, too," I exhaled, gathering my thoughts as I put my feet back on the floor. I covered my face with my hands. "I don't know where that came from."

"I think we're all just under a lot of stress. The sooner we get this done, the better." Derek's door opened allowing a stream of fresh air to enter the cab. And fresh air was exactly what I needed. I waited for Derek to climb out and followed him.

"Whoa, what're you doing? You're not going in." Derek pushed my butt. What the hell? Hands! I slapped his hand away.

"I'm not going inside. I need some fresh air."

Derek huffed, jingling something in his pocket. "Alright, but I want you back in the truck once we're inside."

"Yes, Sir." I gave him a tight grin.

"I mean it, Casey." Derek turned away from me, rubbing the back of his head, messing up his dark hair.

"I get it. I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait here like a good little girl."

"Kiss for good luck?" Thomas's voice was in my ear. I jumped.

He'd snuck up on me.

Before I could say a word, Derek ripped Thomas away. Thomas just laughed. Yeah, my punching spree did jack squat when it came to Thomas the man-whore.

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