#but I ain’t about to test my luck when it comes to this shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkscowardschampions · 2 years ago

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JC & JJ

Casey: might have to still be on this dog walk, I’ll tell you where to meet us

Janis: if it takes longer, I’ll message

Janis: wish me luck

Casey: you don’t need none, piss easy for you, this

Janis: you think

Casey: I know, more like, you can hack loads worse, you have

Janis: I don’t know how to not kick off, I’m not good at that

Casey: yeah you do, you’ve shown us how not to more times than I can count

Casey: higher of a number than the 10 that don’t work

Janis: alright, I can do it

Janis: pointed silence is nothing I can’t hack

Casey: good girl

Janis: maybe he’ll say some of the shit he needs to, can but hope

Janis: I’ll tell you, when we’re done, if you want us to

Casey: depends if it’ll do my head in and make us kick off, hate to be that dickhead when I’ve talked you down from having a go

Janis: yeah, I just haven’t forgotten he’s your kid brother too

Janis: don’t want you to think I have

Casey: sure he has, best he can anyway

Janis: you know how well that works

Casey: yeah

Janis: he’s pissed off, it’s the most normal reaction he’s had to something like this

Casey: none of us do normal reactions, chuffed to bits for him, like

Janis: well, he’s having a go, let’s not redirect the cake and candles

Casey: balloons are wasted on someone you can’t pop ‘em at

Janis: 🥳 it is not

Casey: felt like him, how quiet we just had to be

Janis: not something I want to be wondering about

Casey: don’t fancy going deaf myself when we’re in our 100s is all I mean

Janis: alright but I’m serious, has he had that specialized version of the talk yet or do I need to add it to the list

Janis: he dunno how loud he is coming in and making toast, he’s not gonna realize when, you know

Casey: won’t be me and you having to hear him, dodged that bullet by moving out

Janis: might be the final straw for Jimmy though, fucking hell

Casey: be alright, he’s not gone through no puberty by the looks of him, might never happen

Janis: yeah, there’s some years left, right

Janis: neither of them is that sort

Casey: not no mini me

Janis: thank you 🙄

Casey: I was doing it, no use neither of us pretending different

Casey: bang on that sort

Janis: I know but this is off topic anyway

Casey: off you go and have your tea then

Janis: its just one night

Casey: I ain’t worried you’ll make a habit of it, put anybody off them pair

Casey: you’ve been there, done it, night after night, don’t need telling

Janis: we’re trying to make it better, for the pair of them

Casey: yeah, still be a slog for you trying though

Janis: probably

Casey: ungrateful dickheads like that

Janis: I ain’t expecting grateful about it

Casey: you ain’t thick, you wouldn’t be

Janis: wouldn’t do it for no applause neither

Casey: you’re no 🧚🏽‍♀️ neither, you can live without

Janis: allegedly

Casey: too tall for a start

Janis: that’s just uncalled for

Casey: I were calling it a bad thing it’d be, but I’m not

Janis: dashing my costume ideas against the wall

Casey: least it wasn’t your dreams 🧚🏽‍♀️ can’t be models, last I heard

Janis: what 🧚🏽‍♀️ was crying on your shoulder about that

Casey: all of them who looked round my shoulder and saw you

Casey: *🧚🏼‍♀️

Janis: did you tell them how taken you are

Casey: haven’t I told and shown them exactly how it is, from day one

Janis: might let you have that

Casey: might let you have a set of fairy wings, if you really want

Janis: not now you’ll be getting reminders 🧚🏼‍♀️

Casey: I’d have a job, they’re nothing like you

Janis: don’t fancy putting you to the test, you’re alright

Casey: to be a test it’d have to be hard, you heard, it’s not

Janis: we don’t need you accusing me of being jealous again

Casey: why, it’s no bad thing neither

Janis: it’s a stupid thing

Janis: it’s the past and what were you meant to do, wait forever

Casey: means you care, how’s that stupid

Janis: too much, it makes me feel stupid

Casey: I’d rather you did too much than not enough

Janis: obviously, what’s wrong with just right though

Casey: you tell us, I reckoned you did love us just right, you who’s saying there’s something wrong

Janis: no, just, ignore us

Janis: dunno what I mean

Casey: you’ve nowt to feel stupid about

Janis: I’ve got plenty

Casey: not between me and you

Janis: that’s the problem, I’m here, I shouldn’t have done that

Casey: only we know about it, calm down, they’re not gonna look at you no different round the dinner table

Janis: don’t tell me to calm down

Casey: just talk to me

Janis: I meant about him, that’s what I was thinking of

Janis: how ridiculous it is that the idea of him moving on makes me feel so sick, how unfair

Casey: it’d be more of a pisstake if you was proper unbothered

Janis: expected him to be though

Casey: no you never

Janis: what else is this, trying to make him move on, get over it

Casey: that ain’t what this is, I dunno why you’d even say something like that

Janis: I need to just go and focus on what I’m here to do

Casey: so piss off, not stopping you

Janis: thanks

Casey: you’re welcome, love

Janis: you piss off

Casey: don’t tell me what to fucking do, I can more than one thing at a time

Janis: there’s 0 point to us talking right now

Casey: shut up and go then

Janis: [whoops lmao, good chat guys]

Casey: [gonna be such a fun evening for everybody]

Janis: [sorry we’re now gonna be staying until Casey has gone to work, sucks to suck Bobby lol]

Casey: [I hate that for Casey’s sake but it couldn’t be more deserved in yours Bobby, soz I’m a hater like that, you haven’t actually done anything wrong, you’re just the voice of reason and I don’t wanna hear it thank you lol lol]

Janis: [soz reason doesn’t always count when feelings are involved hun, you’re too immature to see that yet]

Casey: [mhmm, feelings are too high rn, he’ll get his own turns at being in situations where that’s the case, just you wait boy]

Janis: [gets us all sweaty]

Casey: [so what’s your vibe for this evening, is Bobby gonna kick off or stay in his room and be the drama?]

Janis: [I’m sure he will attempt to stay in his room like I’m only coming down if she goes so]

Casey: [I figured, that’s what most teens in this situation would do, just JJ and this dog having a ‘lovely’ time then haha]

Janis: [keep your confused feelings to yourself hun]

Jimmy: [figured I should switch, being lazy, but if she’s gonna stay past having dinner and clearing up, y’all are gonna have to be doing something til Casey’s going to work time which is probably Jimothy’s bedtime as a depressed working person, even if it’s just playing with and loving upon this dog and letting it out in the garden again in the hopes it won’t piss or shit in the house tonight seeing as it can’t go on a walk]

Janis: [not you overstaying your welcome, awkward, at least you can long all these jobs out for all they’re worth and it just seems like you’re trying to be extra helpful with the puppy]

Jimmy: [tbf he’d appreciate it all cos settling a new pet in always feels daunting even if you aren’t in a depression era, like hope they’re okay and going to like it here, plus as I tried to hint with his all the plants are dead comment before, the house would have gone to shit a little bit because he only has the energy to do the bare minimum atm so there are plenty of things she can do to be helpful without it looking like she’s coming and taking over]

Janis: [just doing a deep clean casually instead of talking about it]

Jimmy: [we all know he’d be giving it you don’t have to etc etc if he saw her but he doesn’t have the energy to actually put up a huge fight about it if she’s determined she’s gonna do it]

Janis: [we’d just say we want to and start doing it undoubtedly]

Jimmy: [Winnie says if they’re still got time to kill they could make a birthday cake or something like that for Libi, but he said it should go adorably badly because they don’t have all the ingredients/accidentally put something wrong in/accidentally burn it because distracted by this puppy/life so they don’t end up giving it to her, as I’m sure Cali will pop off making her one anyway, but it’s just a nice little activity to bring the mood up a little and would remind them of when they sabotaged the flatwhite christmas meal even though that was v deliberate and any of cooking or baking fails they’ve had over the years with bibi or alone as a couple, cos I can 100% see y’all getting distracted by being feral or drama in teen era and leaving things in the oven etc]

Janis: [that’s very cute Winnie the Pooh, and definitely needed because we’re definitely not trying to bring his mood down, obviously we’re very much doing as much as we can to avoid doing that all things considered, so it tracks, definitely, and will also cheer us to do this and reminisce]

Jimmy: [yeah, I think it’s nice and it tracks to me Jimothy would suggest it because he clearly cares about Libi’s bday and reconnecting with her hence remembering the present despite his brain fog and wanting to do whatever activity they were going to, but also as means to try and cheer Janis sneakily because it’s obvious she’s not okay but he can’t be like WHAT’S WRONG? when the last thing she did was go to check in with Casey thus he’d assume that didn’t go well but he can’t ask about it for all the reasons]

Janis: [we know we’re giving off a vibe however hard we try but we’re gonna have to get into it if we try to explain because it’s a whole thing not just as simplistic as I’m sure you’re imagining it is, aka Casey is mad she’s here instead of with him; try to pivot away from talking about yourself into talking about Bibi because you can ‘how has he been, since you tried to talk to him last and I rocked up and ruined things today?’]

Jimmy: [just a look up at the ceiling because Bobby is clearly still very much in his room sulking and that sums up the vibe as well as anything Jimothy could say rn]

Janis: [doing a 😬 ‘cos we had hoped he’d chilled out somewhat until this bombshell but obviously not ‘teenagers are dicks’ as you’re mid making this cake for Libi which is amusant like you don’t even deserve this either hun]

Jimmy: [a shrug like yeah I know but what can you do, as he’s also mid doing his bit to make this, whether he’s mixing or what he’s up to lol, probably has flour in his hair or on his cheek, that cliche, and I love to see it ‘rang the school and left a message after the doctors’ whenever ago that was, because it makes sense to me he would if he was in that sort of mood to get jobs jobbed, but it also makes sense that nobody has rushed to get back to him because the school is clearly shit to have let this vibe go on for as long as it has]

Janis: [hence we’re just smiling and leaving it because it looks cute, rolling our eyes as soon as though at this shit school ‘they love trying to not answer’ like oldest trick in the book, much ‘just turn up when we fancy it, if they keep it up’ ‘cos that’ll have ‘em panicked]

Jimmy: [‘were gonna say you might have to ring yourself an’ all, but alright, that’s probably better as far as ideas go’ because it is, realistically they’ll just ignore her message as well so]

Janis: [smirk like oh well that would be more reasonable but ‘fuck ‘em, harder to ignore in person’]

Jimmy: [‘I’ll have a look when I can do’ because he could fit it in if he has another supposed to work from home day like he did today, I’m sure, the unspoken and get back to you, cos we all know she’s also coming]

Janis: [‘no problem’ ‘cos we always piss off whenever we need to from work so we’re not stressing about it or putting any obstacles in place when we don’t need to, gonna say Peach walks in to see what y’all are up to so you can say ‘she’s gonna lose her mind’ ‘cos we know Libi will stan]

Jimmy: [‘tah’ keeping it casual like a thanks for coming with me to this meeting but we know it’s heartfelt and he also means thank you for this whole day actually, made blatant by the look he sneaks at Peach when she wanders in, I’m gonna say she jumps up and licks his cheek and because of the flour does an adorable sneeze or whatever so Jimothy is amused and lowkey hearteyes at this pup, don’t mind him ‘loads better than [something she got as a bday gift when she was a child from someone and really hated for some reason and kicked off about because child Libi was sassy af], her, whatever our kid reckons’ cos soz we just amused at that memory of baby Libi and love Peaches already, bye, deal with it, Bobbert]

Janis: [just watch this boy and this pup bonding and try to purely feel happy about it and not the bittersweet sadness that you used to be the one who could make him happy, it’s FINE, do a small lol at this memory like ‘yeah’]

Jimmy: [I’m just thinking about how if everything hadn’t gone to shit this could be their puppy and they could still be a couple and I’m very sad about it, make your cake while I try not to cry myself, lads, give this dog a treat or a toy so she isn’t all in y’all’s grill, unless dog hair/flob is the reason you can’t give this cake to Libi lol she needs to let y’all finish and get it in the oven]

Janis: [we’re all trying not to cry and think about what could’ve been but isn’t, excuse you Peach, this isn’t your fault hun, go to the big cupboard and find yourself some booze, get out two glasses and gesture like yes/no? ‘Cos you can at least make a drink and not be a teenage savage about it passing the bottle between you, as you are pregnant and everything]

Jimmy: [I’m gonna say it’s a yes if only as further proof of how much he’s not registering the pregnancy as a thing rn, we won’t talk about how there is probably way less booze than there was the last time she opened that cupboard because he is depressed and it feels valid to me that sometimes when Bobby goes up to his room you’d have some drinks, without saying you’re necessarily getting wasted af always about it but to help you turn off some of your thoughts and sleep would be the thinking even though we know it’s more likely to make you sadder and worry about the Ian parallel, again, he is flawed and I’ve always said that]

Janis: [we’re not going to pass comment even though we clearly see because there’s no need to be hysterical and who are we to judge but of course we notice it, it’s okay, this is probably the equivalent of your glass of wine even though it will not be wine because yuck, no babies brains being ruined here, we just need to take that edge off and chill, pass him his drink when you’ve finished and take your first sip]

Jimmy: [soz that he will be drinking his too fast for the above reasons and pouring himself another one + her or topping her up if she’s drinking more slowly for the reason that baby Jac doesn’t exist to him, she doesn’t have to drink this second/top up if she doesn’t want to, but also baby Jac will be totally fine if she does because most peeps don’t even know they are preggo by this point and she isn’t and hasn’t been making a habit of it]

Janis: [‘probably get drunk embarrassingly quick these days’ ‘cos you aren’t a teenager that prides themselves on the opposite no more]

Jimmy: [‘same’ as he does a cheers/clinks their glasses together because likewise]

Janis: [‘one of us has to drive home’ like alright for you, boy but we’re cheersing you back nonetheless]

Jimmy: [‘you don’t have to’ in a you can stay here type of offer that of course he would make despite how FUMING that would make Bobby and the fact it also sounds like you’re suggesting y’all hook up again which he wasn’t]

Janis: [LOOKING at him for both those reasons like you what, slowly shaking our head ‘you were right about false hope, though I don’t think hope is the right word no more’ ‘cos Bobby hates us now lol ‘don’t wanna confuse him’]

Jimmy: [‘the settee’s confusing to nobody’ like oop I gotta clarify that I wasn’t suggesting we should bang but also I CANNOT suggest you spend the night sleeping in Casey’s room for all the reasons of that being heartbreaking and horrible so ‘except the dog’ like she’s gonna think you live here and sleep there but with a shrug like she’ll get over it/that’ll soon be corrected as a false assumption]

Janis: [‘ouch’ like how cold to friendzone me so hard but we’re bumping into you softly to let you know we’re totally not offended, even if it does make us feel kinda weird ‘it’s fine’ like no, I can go and I will]

Jimmy: [turning it into a little feelsy lean for a sec because the idea of her going does and will always upset him a lil bit but we’re trying to be like okay and not DON’T GO about it, obviously ‘alright’ softly but managing not to sound heartbroken af]

Janis: [‘I don’t want to stay on the sofa’ which sounds exactly how it sounds, especially blurted out like that ‘I meant, that’d just feel so weird and wrong, don’t you think?’]

Jimmy: [‘I get it’ because of course, it’d feel weird and wrong to him too ‘and it’s not that I want you to, just-’ because he already said the rest of that sentence earlier when he said about wanting to sleep with her but knowing it’s a bad idea rn]

Janis: [‘I know’ almost blurting it out as fast because we do and we don’t want to ever sound like we’re trying to be pressure-y or weird about it, leaning again like ugh, just ignore me, taking another sip from this top up ‘there’s no reason I can’t go to the flat’ like it is going to be awkward as hell if we’re not asleep but we don’t want him thinking like we’re scared to go back or something that this isn’t]

Jimmy: [‘nor one you can’t stay, could sleep with the dog between us’ like it’s bants of remember the Mia and Ella pillow wall bants of old, but he’s also being 100% sincere here like if you want to stay you can stay, we’re mates now and I love you and I care]

Janis: [looking after Peach, even if she’s now toddled off like hmm lol ‘sounds like a comfy night’s kip’ ‘cos imagine her wriggling, you’d both be off either side]

Jimmy: [‘both had worse’ cos all the nights that Bobby or Libi or both of them together would have got in with JJ when they were bubs and imagine how uncomfy that would’ve been, but it’s also a fond mem, not to mention when they literally slept at the park and shit like that, it’s all in his tone and his eyes when he’s looking at her, should’ve been the worst nights but they were lowkey the best and this could be another one to add to that list]

Janis: [just here remembering too with that wistful kind of smile because it’s so jarring now how grown up Libi and Bobby are suddenly getting out of nowhere, as is how it goes when kids are that age ‘I-’]

Jimmy: [‘it’s okay’ in what’s meant to be a whether you decide to go or decide to stay way but is blatantly more like it’s okay you can stay, we can do this type of way because soz but that’s what he wants and that’s just real I can’t stop him]

Janis: [‘okay’ like that’s a response that will suffice but again it’s in the way we’re looking at him when we say it that makes it okay, I’ll stay]

Jimmy: [me like okay I see why this cake is getting a bit burnt because y’all are LOOKING at each other and something is v blatantly about to happen before said cake and needing to then get it out of the oven interrupts y’all, you can then see it hasn’t risen properly either and is a right mess that you won’t be giving to Libi like oh, but you’ve gotta laugh, if only because of and to break the tension of that almost moment that just happened there]

Janis: [laughter that verges on too much for how funny it objectively is because what else are you going to do in this situation? Can’t start sobbing nor launch yourself at him so run with it ‘hope the dog reveal goes better for her sake’ like don’t flop too, Peach, helping yourself too some burnt crumbs and tipping them into your mouth like hmm let’s see, shrugging like not that bad but also washing it down with a swig of your drink]

Jimmy: [looking in the direction of Peach like no pressure bitch though I imagine she’s wandered off and got herself comfy on the sofa that Janis declined lol, getting the stuff out to decorate this flop cake just for the fun of it because you can literally draw or write anything on this in icing now that you aren’t giving it away and he is that artsy boy so he’d wanna and it’ll give you something to do that isn’t makeout]

Janis: [you loved a doodle moment, go ahead and try not to get hung up on the fact it is also something you have since done with Casey, la la la]

Jimmy: [live your best lives because this will probably take y’all to bedtime how long y’all can spend messing about like that just on the cake alone, but also because we all know he’s gonna end up drawing a sun and grinning face for the throwback to their convo on her in icing pen at some point and that’ll start a playfight and y’all are gonna have to end up cleaning this kitchen together by the end]

Janis: [live laugh love, ignore the tension hens, go find this dog on the sofa and give her some fuss]

Jimmy: [it’s my brain IMMEDIATELY going to him licking the icing doodle off her arm or wherever he drew it and me having to as immediately go NO DON’T YOU DARE, such fun, go have a quick shower while she’s doing that sir because you’re covered in flour and icing and god knows what from that play/foodfight moment and general baking antics and you’re going to bed soon, do tell her you’re going so you don’t just vanish and then like reappear in a towel though]

Janis: [I had the exact same thought and I was like no, you’re not allowed to be a hoe and make him, we know how it’ll end and you’re supposed to be trying here lmao, soz that’s just where our brain lives in the gutter apparently, therefore don’t try and make any comment about him going to shower just smile and nod like cool, I’ll hang out with her whilst you do]

Jimmy: [come back looking fresh to death the way only attractive people can straight from the shower and ask her if she wants one because by the logic of him being covered she’d be as covered, I’ll do you the favour of saying you’re dressed in whatever you’re wearing for bed when you reappear purely because of how good you’d look and the fact a towel is dangerous with this puppy around to snatch it and the tension between y’all]

Janis: [we appreciate your modesty Jimothy, saves us being entirely blatant checking you out or awkwardly attempting not to, either way ‘guess I better, rude to get flour all in your sheets’ as we’re getting up to go upstairs]

Jimmy: [‘our kid would be having it drug tested’ with the what is he like bants energy of oh Bobby as if he isn’t rightly in your grill and rightly thinking you’re having a breakdown cos can’t be serious about how valid that might be rn, goes without saying he’s leaving some of her own clean clothes outside the bathroom door for her to get changed into because all her stuff is here and there’d be plenty of pjs and such to pick from]

Janis: [‘always have been that sort’ like lol you’re right Bobby, as if you didn’t have an actual brother who was out there doing all sorts that you apparently did not care about at all ‘don’t mind if I have a bath, do you?’ because thinking you can use that time to tell Casey you’re planning on staying here tonight]

Jimmy: [‘north’s answer to [insert an absolute coke fiend here because my mind has gone blank for some reason]’ shaking his head because of course she can have a bath, adding ‘go on’ as he starts to wrangle this dog upstairs, because whether she actually ends up sleeping with y’all all night or you have to take her downstairs to her puppy crate under the stairs because it’s simply too uncomfy and impractical that’s the plan]

Janis: [get in this bathroom and run yourself a nice bath like you’re meant to be here and this is all normal lol]

Janis: I’ll stay here tonight so it’s not awkward

Janis: didn’t want to worry you by not saying though

Jimmy: [do a single knock and then leave the clothes so she knows they’re there Jimothy and then I shall switch even though I feel like Casey will just leave that on read]

Casey: [when you can see he’s seen and read that but he’s not replying because he would have already been SO upset she did not come back to try and resolve this in any way before he left for work never mind that she’s now intending not to come back at all]

Janis: [you really made a mistake that you’re now having to double down on because otherwise you have to face it, admit you’re wrong and then admit many other things, oh girl]

Janis: well, I hope your shift is going alright tonight

Casey: [when you’re reading this GOBSMACKED because of course it isn’t, the mood he is in]

Casey: Might, you could take a hint

Janis: I know you don’t want to speak, you made it clear earlier

Casey: but here you are carrying on

Casey: if you was bothered about how my shift’d go you’d have come back to make sure it were alright

Casey: and if you had SO much to fucking chat to us you’d have said it to my face

Janis: you told me to piss off, I have

Janis: I just said, not going to worry you for no reason, that’s the only reason I’m here

Casey: you said you was using me for his sake, what else did you reckon I’d tell you to do

Janis: Why would I say that, it’s not true

Casey: might not be a top reader but I’ve had time to have a look more than the once, dunno why but that’s what you said

Janis: Is that what you think I meant?

Janis: because it isn’t, I meant me being here and getting this dog and going to all these appointments is me trying to get him to move on for my benefit

Janis: not getting with you, no one would say that’s any way to go about it, however stupid you think I am

Casey: only one of us is treating the other like they’re thick here and it ain’t me

Janis: I’m not going to sit here and let you say I said something I didn’t, there’s no point in that, for either of us

Casey: sit where you bloody fancy, it’s what you’ve been doing the whole night

Casey: that was all you meant you wouldn’t be avoiding us like I had the plague

Janis: you wouldn’t be bothered anyway, seeing as you’re having a better night without me so

Casey: fuck off and fuck you am I

Casey: I’m having a shit one, you just don’t care unless I’m about to off myself about it

Janis: you’re the one who said you were, the second time you told me to leave you alone and stop talking to you

Casey: no I never, but don’t worry, if I ring up the samaritans I might well be put through to you as you’re putting such a long shift in

Janis: Why are you chatting to me like this

Casey: answer’s obvious given what you’re acting like

Janis: I’m giving you space because you’ve made it obvious you don’t want me near you

Casey: nah, you’re staying gone ‘cause that’s what suits you

Casey: have your little sleepover, give a fuck, do I, hope it’s a right laugh

Janis: I’m either here ‘cos I’m doing charity work or ‘cos I love it

Janis: couldn’t be ‘cos you’ve been a massive dick and I don’t want to be around you, nah

Casey: loads of dickheads love doing charity, let it be both, mate

Janis: it’s neither

Casey: like I said, don’t matter either way to us, so

Janis: good to know, thanks

Casey: you’re as welcome as you was earlier, love

Janis: you have nothing to be smug about

Casey: not what I’d circle on the paper in [the shit counsellor lady’s] office at school, like

Janis: you’re acting like you want me to feel bad for you when its the last thing you do, what for

Casey: I’m acting fuming ‘cause I am, no prizes what for

Janis: I stayed here so you could go to work without having had a row, which is what would’ve happened

Casey: not if you’d said that weren’t what you meant, but sod that, why would you when you’re far too busy

Janis: how am I meant to know that’s what you thought I did when all you said was piss off

Casey: and how am I meant to know you never when you couldn’t get away fast enough, you’ve not said fuck all since

Janis: you didn’t want me to

Casey: yeah, thinking all I’m good for is getting you both out your shit marriage’ll do that, won’t it

Janis: Jesus, I’d never fucking say something like that

Janis: it isn’t even true, for a start

Casey: tah for finally bothering to clear that up, I can crack on with some work and hopefully not get the sack now

Janis: it’s not my fault that you have ridiculous shit like that in your head, you don’t even say that’s what you’re thinking, I had no clue you were

Casey: yeah it’s mine, tah again, that makes us feel loads better, you pointing out how fucked my head is

Janis: just, don’t make me feel guilty when I didn’t know so I couldn’t do nothing about it

Janis: if I knew I wouldn’t have just left it, you know I wouldn’t

Casey: don’t start when you know there’s loads you could’ve done, you’ve not even tried to work out why I told you to piss off

Casey: you could’ve started this chat here or at home ages ago, but you never, you left it so you could keep on there with him

Janis: yeah, you’re right

Casey: I’ll see you when I see you, girl

Casey: have a good one

Janis: don’t say that

Casey: I’ve nothing else to say to you at the minute

Janis: I’m not saying it back

Janis: what the fuck are we doing if it’s come to this, I don’t think so

Casey: don’t then, I’ve still work to do

Casey: and you’ve made up your mind you’re staying put at his

Janis: that’s that then, decision made

Janis: if it were that simple, we wouldn’t be in this mess

Casey: it is that simple, come home and talk to me like you give a fuck, til you’re bothered enough to do that, here we are

Janis: I’ll be there

Janis: how about you don’t tell me to leave you alone and then get mad when I do, as if you don’t get why that’s my response

Casey: I were already fuming, why I said it

Casey: never said my response was a convenient one, just lucky for you yours was

Janis: there’s nothing convenient about being here

Casey: so go home

Janis: what do you want

Casey: nah, what do you, I don’t even finish til [whatever time] and gym’s open 24 hour, I could have breakfast or all sorts after, walk the dog early and I wouldn’t have to be about til you’re off for work, bollocks can you blame us for why you’re not there now

Janis: because what I really wanted was another relationship where the other person avoids me entirely, that’s right

Casey: you started it

Janis: and thanks for being reassuring

Janis: I never said I wasn’t fucked in the head from it all, I didn’t sell you on that lie

Casey: yeah ‘cause it’s dead reassuring you’ll not and didn’t come back, that I was nearly late waiting to see if you would

Janis: I’ve said why I didn’t, you can think it’s a crap reason but I didn’t want to start a fight with you

Casey: he’ll think you’re scared of me

Janis: I’ve said I’m not

Casey: what lasses who are say too, fuck’s sake

Janis: alright but he knows us, knows I’ve never been scared of you, he don’t think that

Casey: I’d put money on he does, it’s different, we weren’t together before

Janis: then I’ll put him right

Casey: keep protesting after you’ve chatted to us, don’t look at all like I’m putting you up to telling him

Casey: you can just leave it, damage’s done there

Janis: I didn’t bloody mean now, he’s probably asleep

Janis: I meant if he tries slipping me a note asking me to blink twice or whatever another time

Janis: I’m not scared of you, I’m scared of losing you after all this hence I don’t want to have no proper argument ever

Casey: you heard, we wouldn’t of, all you needed to say was that weren’t what you meant and it’d have gone no further

Janis: okay

Janis: don’t tell me to shut up and go away or I will

Casey: I’m sorry, alright

Casey: I just needed you to stop, I thought there’d be worse coming if you kept on

Janis: I am too, properly sorry

Janis: I would’ve freaked out if that’s what I thought you were saying to me

Casey: nah, you said it, my own fault for not working out you wasn’t

Janis: it isn’t, I should’ve waited ‘til you got it but I was too freaked out that I’d been in his office too long or whatever

Casey: coming out with it right after all that didn’t help us not feel like I wasn’t being used, but it still is on us, I’m a twat, I can own up, like

Janis: no, I can see that

Janis: I hate it but, how else would you feel when it’s the equivalent of me running out the door second after

Casey: I know you, should’ve known better

Janis: I won’t lie, it’s really hard working out how me and him fit in each other’s lives now, how it’s gonna work

Janis: but nothing’s happened today

Casey: it’s gonna be hard, it’s fucking weird

Casey: why most dickheads run a mile from each other when it’s over

Casey: easier to hate the other and start new but you pair can’t just

Janis: I feel like I should, that that would actually help him more but no, I can’t

Casey: you can do this, I meant that, my kicking off since don’t change it

Janis: he hasn’t paid me this much attention in years, it could be years ago sometimes, ‘til we remember it ain’t

Casey: you take shit for granted you reckon you’re always gonna have

Casey: he knows now he could’ve proper lost you, that you could still leg it and never go back and when you are back round it ain’t the same

Janis: it’s so fucking confusing, that’s the truth, my head feels scrambled

Casey: ‘course he’s after having another go with you, he’d be thick not to, you’re the best thing what happened to all of us

Janis: he wants to be friends, he knows it’d be bad

Casey: what he says, but he still wants it

Casey: don’t need telling about all the heart vs head bollocks, neither of us

Janis: I asked to kiss him, when I did

Janis: I don’t know why, if I’m offended he doesn’t want me still, what the fuck it is

Casey: I was mates with you when it’s all I could have, same here for him, don’t mean he don’t want you

Janis: that makes me such a shit person

Casey: no it don’t, it makes you someone who’s always in the bloody middle, stuck

Janis: alright but with you, I didn’t know, or I thought it was a kid’s crush and you’d stop and then by the time it was clear it was otherwise, it was too late

Janis: if I know with him, I’m just keeping him hanging on, aren’t I

Casey: yeah, to life, told you, I’d do anything for him not to off himself as well

Janis: what a fucking mess

Casey: you’re trying, we all are

Casey: not like there’s loads other dickheads in the same boat we can ask what they reckon to do

Janis: you deserve uncomplicated, all my attention

Janis: I’m sorry I can’t give that you

Casey: maybe, but I want you

Casey: and I’m not sorry, even though it is a fucking mess

Janis: it’d kill me if you wanted someone else

Janis: not trying to say that in a samaritans manipulative way, just honest

Casey: you’re alright, I don’t and I never have

Janis: you might if I keep being such a bitch

Casey: I’ll hack it, there’s no mood I’ve not seen you in by now and none of ‘em have put us off

Janis: [photo of your pinky from this tub like swear lol]

Casey: oi, you’ve never been in the us bath this whole time having a go when you could’ve been sending pics

Janis: as far as apologies go…

Janis: wouldn’t you feel so used though?

Casey: only the one way to find out how I’d feel

Janis: risky if it makes you hate me again

Janis: [but send him bath selfies of more than your pinky obvs lmao]

Casey: hate I’m not in there with you, that’s about it, far as still being fuming goes

Janis: me too

Casey: you miss me too, see it in the pics

Janis: of course I do, should’ve come home

Casey: come here

Janis: are you sure, already made you nearly late

Janis: and the rest

Casey: I’ve said enough I don’t mean

Janis: you can mean it, I’ll still come

Casey: you heard, come here

Casey: I’m not waiting til [whatever time he finishes] to see you

Janis: I’m coming, just have to finish up here

Casey: alright

Janis: seeing as I spent half this bath so far having a go, or whatever you said

Casey: however long you’d been in it, like, I dunno the maths

Janis: it’s when I started talking to you again, yeah

Janis: weren’t trying to have half a conversation with either of you, like

Casey: wouldn’t have been the best idea you’ve had, nah

Janis: I feel like a dickhead

Casey: me too, least it’s mutual

Janis: you shouldn’t

Casey: I’ve as much to feel a twat about as you

Janis: but only ‘cos of me, ‘cos I didn’t show

Janis: and now he’s gonna feel one ‘cos I’m going, fuck’s sake

Casey: he’ll be asleep, explain in the morning

Janis: yeah, he’ll be knackered, s’fine

Casey: stress yourself and my daughter out more than needed, you

Janis: oi, don’t say that

Casey: stop worrying and I don’t have to, how about that

Janis: easy as that is it

Casey: doing as you’re told, for you, yeah it is

Janis: 🙃

Casey: drown yourself an’ all with that carry on

Janis: would solve all my problems but not meant to be encouraging that sort of thinking

Casey: what problems

Casey: you’re meant to be thinking about seeing us

Janis: you’re gonna be cross at me

Casey: why

Janis: stressing out your daughter, again

Janis: I had some drink

Casey: she’s mine, she can hack it

Casey: no lightweights in this family

Janis: I’m not drunk I just needed some

Casey: I get it, I’d be off my face if it weren’t a sackable offense this early on

Janis: I’ll buy you one

Casey: how you’re gonna flirt with me, is it

Janis: least I could do is get you slowly wasted

Casey: don’t be doing no bare minimum, tah very much

Janis: you’re better than that, I’ve heard

Casey: so are you

Janis: I’ll make you happy again

Casey: I’ve got my own making up to do as well as though, you can’t be all night in that bath

Janis: I have lots of good memories in here, it’s distracting

Casey: I’ve some here, before Libi’s party distracted you

Janis: bitch

Janis: we were having a good night, weren’t we

Casey: very

Casey: but it’s okay, this one’ll be even better

Janis: I remember, you said there’s somewhere you can put me

Casey: there’s loads of places, that one were just for if you was tired

Janis: I just wanna be nearest you

Casey: I know, baby

Casey: it’s been ages since I’ve seen you other than as a pic

Janis: it reminds me of before, I don’t like it

Casey: we’re about to put it right

Janis: I need to feel you, that you’re still real

Casey: I’ll pinch you, same as before, at the hotel

Janis: harder, you know what I like better now

Casey: I’ve worked out I can’t scare you away now

Janis: [video of you slapping yourself again]

Casey: I love you

Janis: I’ll never be scared of you, you love me as much as I love you

Casey: I’ll never hurt you no more than all of that

Janis: I like it, always have

Casey: we trust each other, always have

Janis: we know how to handle each other

Casey: yeah

Janis: I need it to hurt when you’re done, the only thing that makes it better is more

Casey: you’ve probably washed the pen off but I remember what it said and where, it’ll hurt, that’s a promise

Janis: daddy, please

Casey: might end up a scar, then you’ll know not to leave us again

Janis: no one else could touch me again, without knowing

Casey: anybody else touches you I’d knock their teeth out, they’ll be leaving no teeth marks nowhere

Janis: you’re so possessive

Casey: you belong to me

Janis: I am you, you made me

Casey: you’re more than anything I’ve got in us, why I need to keep you

Janis: you’re too perfect, it confuses my head how many things you are and it makes me wanna do fucked up things with you

Casey: nowt we wanna do is fucked up or it’d feel wrong instead of how good it does

Janis: 🤏 good wrong

Janis: have to save some things back for your birthday though

Casey: my birthday’s ages yet, I’ll not letting you hold back til then

Janis: then stop giving me so many good ideas now

Casey: fuck that, just do them now

Janis: 😇

Janis: you’re so cute

Casey: what I am is dead serious, I’ll give you new ones, come on

Janis: [a towel selfie which is v chaste in comparison lol but is to say we’re out and getting dry now]

Casey: okay, I heard you 😇

Janis: you know I have no willpower to hold anything back from you

Casey: we’ve both used it up already from when we had to

Janis: that must be why it’s impossible now, yeah

Casey: I’ll make it easy for you

Janis: you will not

Casey: whatever you want

Janis: that’s exactly the sort of talk that means I can’t save nothing for another month

Janis: but I don’t mind

Casey: I don’t mind being a bad influence

Janis: I can’t top the scan anyway, we don’t need to pretend

Casey: but that’s a present from her, not you

Janis: all the more reason to give up

Janis: beaten by a baby 😭

Casey: you don’t give up

Janis: if you’re lucky, which you’ve got a good chance of being

Casey: can we really have a look at her on my birthday

Janis: I don’t know if I can ask for a specific day but that’s when I am 12 weeks so

Janis: I’ll ring and see

Casey: there’s gotta be someone you can ask for the day of, even if it means we have to act like them posh dickheads and pay

Janis: paying changes everything, no doubt

Janis: jump the queue I’ll be in otherwise

Casey: I’ll be that sort of dad, not bothered

Janis: we can do it, it’s important to you

Casey: pretend you’re at a spa instead of hospital, be nice

Janis: I’m not scared

Janis: do you reckon I should be

Casey: nah, they’ll look after you, what I’m paying them for, not just to queue jump

Janis: 😏

Janis: you think its still there, don’t you

Casey: she is, you’ll feel her before you know it

Janis: how soon

Casey: [I don’t know the answer but he’s a BIG excited nerd who literally can’t stop reading and looking things up about this so do your countdown vibe from literally right now to whenever it is]

Janis: damn

Casey: [also nerd about for a sec about all the things from whatever week this roughly is, like how big she is and what she can do already etc etc]

Janis: I shouldn’t have had that drink

Casey: it’s okay, you only had one

Janis: and a bit

Janis: I’ll get it out when I’m outside

Janis: probably too late now, shit

Casey: you told us most lasses don’t have no clue til a month from now anyway, all their kids are going about alright

Casey: there’s nowt to worry yourself over

Janis: not perfect though

Casey: how many times have I said there’s no need to be, for me or her, neither of us care about that

Janis: she should be, all babies should start off like that, at least

Casey: she is, they’ll show you

Janis: I’m not gonna do it again, I promise

Casey: I’m reading here going private they’ll do it from 6 weeks, we don’t have to wait to prove me right and sort your head out

Janis: no it’s your birthday present

Casey: I’d rather my birthday present were you leaving it out beating yourself up for the next month, matters more

Janis: I won’t

Casey: first sign you are, I’m booking it

Janis: ��😶🙊

Casey: trust us and I’ll trust you

Janis: I trust you

Janis: never feel that trustworthy but I’m trying

Casey: it’s gonna be okay, everything

Casey: you’ve had a day of it but I’ll turn the night round

Janis: all I need to do is trust you, everything will be how it should

Casey: we should go home, it’s a pisstake I’m stuck here

Janis: I know, baby

Janis: you gotta stay though, I’m on my way, I just need to see if he is asleep or not

Casey: if he’s up and you need to stay there a bit, it’s alright, I ain’t fuming no more

Janis: nah, it’ll be okay, he’s good, the dog helped a lot

Casey: I’m good an’ all, long as you’re on your way

Janis: you’ll want to be there more when I am

Casey: you said it, I just wanna be nearest you

Janis: always

Casey: every night til my last one

Janis: I won’t let you die

Casey: alright, every night *forever

Janis: 🧚🏽‍♀️ make it happen

Casey: have to get you the outfit now, like

Janis: you can admit you’ve wanted to see it the whole time

Casey: I never said no different, that was you on about it giving us reminders I weren’t after

Janis: my guilty conscience, thinking about what you said about having a foot in your old life

Casey: when I was living my old life you was still the only one in my head, mine’s clear far as that much at least

Janis: if you’re sure I’m sure

Janis: I don’t have to offer to let you do what you want

Casey: I am, goes for being sure and doing what I want already

Janis: I let you do everything, what could be missing

Casey: exactly

Janis: it’d only be if you wanted to watch me do things and have things done to me but you’re too possessive for that

Casey: and you’d have a job to find anyone as fit as you, couldn’t put you through it else, wouldn’t be fair

Janis: I don’t think I’d like it either, I can already imagine you with plenty of other people and it doesn’t make me anything but jealous

Casey: other people’s for dickheads who don’t like the one they’re with, we don’t need none of that

Janis: just you and me

Casey: I won’t be bored however long forever lasts

Janis: you better fucking not be, or insult me reckoning you can fix that with whoever the fuck

Casey: not that sort, me

Janis: one woman sort of man, you

Casey: been there and done the rest, didn’t suit us as much as this

Janis: 🥰

Janis: make me act like such a twat

Casey: how I want, it’s the only rule

Janis: how am I doing now?

Casey: perfect

Janis: you

Casey: you

Casey: you get so close to it I’m gonna have to sort my head into rethinking perfect ain’t just bollocks

Janis: in their defence, maybe I can sell it some of the time, like

Casey: maybe you’re that good or maybe we’re that good together, depends who fancies the credit

Janis: maybe I like the second one

Casey: yeah, so do I

Janis: I love you

Casey: I’ve missed you

Janis: [a countdown of how long it’ll take you to get to the clerb and to him]

Janis: I’m going to try and get better at talking

Casey: you’re not bad, it’s that I’m worse

Janis: neither of us is great

Janis: but when we get it right, it is

Casey: I go right to fuming and when I am I dunno how to come out of it, takes ages to undo for how quick it starts

Janis: wish I had a good answer for you on that one

Casey: have to pay someone for it an’ all, won’t I, gutted I’ve pissed all over tonight’s tips acting like a knobhead to all these students

Janis: swear my life is going to revolve around pissing appointments from now on, everything is another dickhead in another office

Casey: you’re alright, hold his hand but I can hack it on my own

Janis: ‘cos I don’t need none myself, like

Casey: ‘course not, I’ll just let you know what the dickhead in his office says to us, we’re the same, loads of cash and time saved

Janis: 😏 funny boy

Casey: pencil in your baby appointments and leave the head doctor ones to me, like

Janis: maybe we can swap

Casey: reckon some dickhead whose job it is might work out I weren’t no ugly lass, but I’ll have a go

Janis: should’ve never have said that to you, you’ve really taken it to heart

Casey: too right I have, mate

Casey: charming, that

Janis: come on, I’d be a really wimpy boy

Casey: too pretty, yeah, but you’d still be well hard, I’ve no chance to save it other way round

Janis: lesbians would love you, SO butch

Casey: til I open my sexist gob, eh

Janis: that one was Libi, not us

Casey: still, never have met a lezza I couldn’t offend in a sec flat

Casey: and the lasses one foot in and one out are near as bad these days, dunno what the world’s coming to

Janis: if I didn’t fancy you…

Casey: 😏

Janis: too bad I really do, have to defend yourselves, ladies

Casey: there’s gay clubs enough without them needing to feel hard done by they decide to prop my bar up

Janis: you’re gonna start being nice

Casey: [an updated countdown of when she said she’d be there like only nice to you soz]

Janis: if I was a lad would you still fancy us

Casey: yeah, but it would’ve done my head in more you being with my brother and us fancying you

Casey: probably kill my dad off

Janis: why more

Janis: gutted to not have given him that heart attack, obviously not racist enough, Ian

Casey: can’t all be massive benders, be up to our kid to let how fit we are not proper die out, would you trust him

Casey: did move us here, but obviously only playing at it even for that, could’ve gone fully no blacks or irish if he really committed

Janis: hmm, no comment

Janis: too nice to look at, it’s confusing when you wanna be a cunt

Casey: didn’t have to hit me with a garda interview answer there

1 note · View note

eoieopda · 2 years ago

Note

My emojis tend to be based off pure vibes. A few examples:

😽✌🏻 -> recent combo. Is supposed to indicate this meme’s vibe? If that makes sense idk. (E.g., “haven’t studied but I’m writing tomorrow wish me luck 😽✌🏻”)

😭✋🏻 -> i use this a lot 😭✋🏻 (<- that right there is an example damn)

🤡 -> just general clown behavior. Typically used after a statement.

👀 -> intrigue, kind of a “wink-wink nudge-nudge” emoji.

🫂 -> virtual hugs, used only in serious situations

😭 -> this tends to be my “😂” emoji. Idk the “😂” feels too insincere so I either use the “😭” emoji or “lol”, “lmfao” or “lmao”. The funnier, the more “o”s and also it’s in full caps.

🫶🏻 -> these have been my emoji-replacement for the “<3” emoticon.

😌 -> satisfied, kinda proud (e.g., “finished all my tests so we can go out tomorrow 😌”)

🤨 -> jokingly judging/ questioning you. Think: “[sentence idk]” and then I reply with “oh is that so 🤨🤨🤨” usually to indicate my question or whatever is meant jokingly and not in the sense of “I don’t believe you” or “I’m attacking you” or something

💪🏻 -> mostly satire, kind of like the “we work” meme

🙂 -> passive aggressive. Emoji-equivalent of “:)”

🔪 -> warning 🔪🔪

😔 -> disappointment, but in a funny way. Usually paired with a “✌🏻” or “👊🏻”. Like the first meme, but more self-deprecating in a way. (E.g., “BTS has taken over my life, what can I say 😔👊🏻”

😪 -> statement that could come off as “oof that’s like a thing you can’t change that sucks” but I usually only use it when it relates to me bc yes. (E.g., “yeah, can’t be helped 😪”)

😤 -> aggressive love: “I love you… bitch 😤 and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you, bitch 😤😤😤”

🫦 -> literally just a lip bite bc I do it too much irl. Meant as a joke (e.g., “damn that’s so sexy 🫦” when it could literally be the grossest shit idk)

✨ -> to add that extra ✨sparkle✨

🤷🏻‍♀️ -> bc sometimes, all you can do is shrug.

This is probably more in depth than you wanted or asked for and no one cares but I thought i’d share anyway 🤡🤡

Hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

- <3

omg no i love this lil glossary!!! the emojis people use say so much about them, so this was adorable insight into ✨han✨

#jade speaks #hannah!#moots #dearly-somber

1 note · View note

80yearoldmanmoodboard · 7 months ago

Note

I hope you don’t mind if I add a little more here friend

About a week after Davy first moved in, Micky had dragged him out to a club—not that Davy was complaining, even taken he liked the club scene—on the sunset strip. Micky had brought him there to ‘socialize’ with an up and coming girl-band which Davy thought was a bit funny. “I’m sorry Miss, might have better luck with another bloke.” Davy said politely when the singer for the girl-band made advances on him.

“You’re letting a hot piece like her go? You’re either crazy or taken, man!” Micky teased and Davy laughed. A humorous joke from a funny man, of course Davy was taken. He’d been dating Mike almost the entire time Micky knew him.

Amusing as it was the first time, after enough propositions Davy had had enough. He pushed through the girls and over to Micky, irritated by how often his solo-dancing was interrupted “Micky, can we head back to the pad?”

“What? Why? Aren’t you having fun?”

“Clubs got a nice atmosphere but these birds won’t quit flockin’ and it’s gettin’ on my nerves” Davy admitted, visibly uncomfortable when he noticed another girl from across the club staring at him.

“Jeez Dave, denying all these chicks, you got a girlfriend or something?” Davy laughed. Micky, always making joke. He loosened up but, still determined to go, cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the door. “Yeah alright Davy, we can go.” The pair snuck out and went home, Micky only realizing how tired he was when he dropped onto his bed and Davy stayed with Mike and Peter in the living room for a while.

“Mike,” Davy started later that evening when the two were alone on the couch together, “did we ever tell the fellas we’re together?” Davy was sitting on Mikes lap, snuggled up in his arms while some late night television show drooled on in the background. It was some boring talk show Davy and Mike pretended to really like to spend some alone time together in the evening.

Mike thought on Davys question. “No…” They’d never tried to hide their relationship in front of Micky and Peter, Davy and Mike might not have kissed in front of them but the pair just didn’t kiss in front of others terribly frequently. But Mike and Davy were pretty obvious, so they’d have to know. “I don’t think that’s a problem though sugar, we ain’t exactly subtle with it.” Mike pulled his boyfriend closer to him, kissing his cheek and resting his tired head on Davys shoulder.

After a big yawn Davy said, “I’m goin’ta bed.” He wriggled out of mikes arms and stood, starting to walk to his and Peter’s room.

Holy shit. His and Peter’s room.

“Mike they don’t know.” Davy turned quickly, suddenly feeling energized and walking back over to Mike.

“How could they not know?” Mike said and then he thought about how Micky kept badgering him about Davy’s musical talent. Testing him out on songs during practice and god damnit, “they don’t know.” Mike sighed and laid back on the couch.

Davy and Mike tried, unsuccessfully, for three whole days to tell Micky and Peter they were together. Trying to get them both to slow down long enough to listen without making it sound like either were in trouble was very difficult because they kept doing stupid things and getting in trouble. Micky used the nice glassware for one of his ungodly experiments, Peter fell for another grifters scheme and they had to save him which really didn’t pie nicely with telling your friends you’re dating.

So after 3 incredibly obnoxious days Mike and Davy gave up on their attempts to tell their friends. “Just let them figure it out.” Davy said, exhausted from the last days adventures. “I wonder how long it’ll take ‘em”

“I bet they’ll catch on quick,” Mike grinned at Davy and pulled him into a hug from behind, kissing his neck and making a trail up to his cheek, “cause I just can’t keep my hands off you lover boy!” Davy giggled, kicking his feet in the air encouraging Mike to pick him up and just as he did Micky walked in the room.

This would be it. This had to be it he could look at this and think they were just friends.

“Oh, hey fellas, I found a quarter on the ground and was thinking of getting myself some ice cream and then I lost the quarter some place you haven’t seen a quarter anywhere have you?” Micky asked and they both shook their heads, Mike still holding Davy. “Thanks anyway.” And Micky walked away, not even a little bit suspicious.

“I feel like maybe it’ll take a bit longer than you thought.” Davy slid down out of Mikes arms, his shirt riding up and revealing belly as his feet found the ground and he wondered over to get a drink from the tap.

When they split to go to their respective rooms they both declared the number of weeks they thought it’d take their friends to figure it out and as the time crept by they realized weeks was the wrong measurement of time when it came to betting on how oblivious their friends were.

Davy and Mike had kissed and hugged and snuggled and probably done everything imaginable besides actively fucking in front of their friends and neither Micky nor Peter put the pieces together. What kind of friends sat on top of each other watching movies? Who platonically intertwined their bodies absentmindedly after falling asleep together on the couch?

“I love you Mike,” Davy gave him a kiss, “good luck on your grocery run luv,” he kissed him again, “I’ll have the kitchen clean for you to cook when you get back.” Davy gave him one last kiss, this time for goodbye, and sent him on his way. Micky and Peter both watched. Neither even batted an eye at their exchange.

“Jesus.” Davy rolled his eyes after waiting a few moments after the door closed for a response or reaction from either of them. Nothing. Mike’s so gonna lose the bet. He thought to himself as he cleaned all the pots and pans, starting with the ones Mike expected to use and then moving on through the rest of them.

The Monkees was just Micky, Peter and Mike for a long time until Mike met Davy. He never told the guys about him (because he didnt want them to embarrass him) and Mikes always out picking up Davy and taking him on dates. Eventually Mikes ready to introduce his friends to his boyfriend but they just… don’t seem to understand

Mickys always asking Davy if he has a girlfriend and Davy (who does not yet know just how clueless these guys can be) thinks it’s a joke and goes along with it

Davy’s slowly integrated into the group then the band and then he’s asked to move in (after a heavy adult discussion with Mike about their relationship and next steps). Davy and Mike are both under the assumption they’ll share a room since… boyfriends. But Peter kidnaps Davy and begs until they can be roommates

Eventually Mike and Davy realise the others actually don’t know they’re together and bet each other how long it will take them to figure out. They don’t even attempt to hide their relationship but it seems the more coupley they act the less the others cop on

It takes them making out half naked on the couch for the others to even raise an eyebrow (“I thought you guys were just really close”)

wrote a short thing :)

“We’ve talked it over, and, well, Davy already spends so much time here anyway, so I thought ‘he might as well just move in’ and I think it’s the right next move for us and he agrees, so what do y’all think? Would you be fine if Davy moved in here with us?” Mike asked, shifting nervously on his feet as he looked down at his two best friends to see their reactions. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, it just seemed like a big deal asking his friends if his boyfriend could move in with them. What if they didn’t want Davy around that often? No, that would be silly; Davy already spent so much time hanging around the pad he practically lived there, the only difference would be that he’d be sleeping there now too.

He resisted the urge to swipe his hands against his jeans, but Davy felt his arms tense up from where his hands were wrapped around his bicep and he gave his arm a comforting squeeze.

“Yes that’s fantastic!” Peter said, with a wide, cheery grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah that’s a groovy idea. Davy is a perfect addition.” Micky chimed in.

“Oh, you think so? Thanks fellas, this means a lot, really-“

“I’m so excited I finally get to have a roommate!” Peter said as he sprung up from his seat. He latched onto Davy’s arm and started tugging him in the direction of his bedroom.

“You- what?” Davy asked as he let himself be pulled across the pad, throwing a confused look over his shoulder at Mike who stared back at him just as confound.

“It will be like a sleepover every night. And I won’t get lonely and have to bother Micky and Mike in the middle of the night anymore. We can put your bed right there and you can have these drawers in the dresser.” Peter said as he started opening drawers and moving his clothes around. Davy watched as he shuffled around the room moving stuff and reorganizing his drawers.

“Um- Peter- you know- I was really planning to move in with Mike.” Davy said, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as Peter stopped his hectic motions and turned to look at Davy.

“Yeah you’re moving in with Mike, Micky, and I. That’s why I’m clearing a space for you.”

“No I mean I was planning to move into Mike’s room with him.”

“But Micky already rooms with Mike it doesn’t make any sense for you to move in there too… unless, is it that you don’t want to room with me?” Peter asked staring down at Davy with the biggest, saddest eyes he’d ever seen. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“No peter that’s not it at all. You’d be a great roommate.”

“So you do want to room with me?” Peter asked, a relieved smile taking place of the frown. Davy swallowed down the words of rejection as he stared into Peter’s wide, hopeful eyes. He couldn’t do it; what kind of monster could make Peter feel sad and rejected when he was one of the sweetest people Davy had ever met before.

“Yeah I’ll be your roommate. It’ll be fun just like you said." Davy barely finished his sentence before he was being pulled into a hug by an enthusiastic Peter.

"When are you moving in? Oh I can't wait to help you decorate your side of the room." Peter said clasping his hands together excitedly.

"What're y'all talking about in here?" Mike asked from where he was leaned up against the door frame.

"How Davy is going to decorate his side of the room!"

"His side of the room?" Mike repeated, quirking his eyebrow at Davy who smiled back at him sheepishly.

"Err, Peter can you give me a moment alone with Mike, please?"

"Of course." Peter said as he passed by Mike who was stepping into the room.

"Why does Peter think you'll be rooming with him?" Mike asked once the door shut behind them.

"I kind of told Peter that I would."

"Why would you do that?"

"I tried to tell him I was moving in with you but he looked at me with these big sad puppy eyes and I just didn't have it in me to disappoint him. I swear I've never met someone who reminded me so much of a golden retriever before." Davy explained. Mike nodded along to the last part, having been subjected to Peter's sad puppy eyes before. He knew they were hard to fight if you weren't used to them.

"It's going to be awfully hard to take it back now." Mike said. Davy gave him a pained look.

"Oh come on Mike, it's not so bad of an idea. If I move in down here then at least we don't have to move all of Micky's stuff downstairs. And if we need some alone time I'm sure the guys won't mind switching rooms for a night." Davy said, stepping up to Mike and wrapping his arms around his waist as he fluttered his eyelashes and gave a dazzling smile. "It'll work out fine in the end." he said as he stood on his tippy toes to press a kiss to Mike's neck, then his chin, the his cheek. Mike couldn't help the smile the spread across his face, and he wrapped his arms around Davy's back as he pecked his lips in a small kiss.

"I know you just don't want to deal with a sad Peter, but the Micky thing is a good point. I really don't want to have to spend the day lugging his hundreds of trinkets and god knows what else he has under his bed down the stairs."

"Shall we go back to my place and pack up my things? Peter's already started clearing a space for me, so I think I could be all set up by the end of the day."

"Yeah, I'll meet you in the car, I'm gonna grab some boxes out of the garage for your stuff." Mike replied, pressing one more kiss to Davy's lips before they untangled themselves and headed to the door.

#the monkees #monkees fanfiction #I’d write more but it’s time for bed now #and anyway home you want inspiration to write? I challenge you to get to the fun bit (Mike and Davy making out)#I had fun getting you halfway there but babe you gotta make it the rest of the way >:)#I hope it’s okay I added to it btw I felt inspired!#urs is so fly and I wanted more from this prompt so I did what any irrational person would do and wrote it #I love u and I love ur writing hope this makes you smile at least a bit when you see it

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

Text

“To Feel Better” Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

Request from Anonymous: for your requests i saw a prompt where it was person A finding excuses to hold person B's hand such as my hands are cold will you warm them for me I think that would be cute with Daryl.

Word Count: 1859

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Cardigan” by Taylor Swift

Note: I love fluff requests yall! This one is set during the time our survivors are looking for shelter after the fall of the farm!

---------

When the farm fell, nobody knew what they were doing.

Herschel and Rick were doing their best to keep some sort of order within the group, but they could only do so much once the cold set in and the food became more scarce. Then after losing some people during the invasion of Walkers and Shane’s attempt at a coup, pieces felt as if they were being broken off.

Andrea had been someone who you trusted wholeheartedly. You had been with her and her sister, Amy, since the beginning. Andrea had protected you both, but in the end it had been Amy who befell the fate of the new world. Her death still followed you around and you knew that it had haunted her sister for a while as well. If anything, it had made Andrea harder and more resilient. Still, she kept her eyes on you and you knew that if it came down to it, you would protect her with everything you had. That remained true until you saw her go down on the farm and never saw her reemerge from the horde as Daryl pulled you on to the back of his bike and took off down the dirt path.

Now it was only a matter of time before someone else was lost. With the larger herds moving North all the time, the group had to keep moving and there wasn’t any time to rest for more than a couple of days. With Lori being pregnant, it was definitely causing more issues. You were exhausted, Shane was dead, Rick was keeping something a secret, and Carl was growing up before your eyes. It was too much, too fast.

Winter was coming and going, the weather never staying the same in the South. You had been used to that your entire life, but without constant shelter or warm meals, every time the temperature dropped even a fraction, stress levels skyrocketed within the group and it was starting to get to you. Daryl, someone you had grown closer to since the farm, had tried to keep your spirits up the best he could, but there was only so much he could do.

It was late one night when you found yourself alone on watch. Rick and Maggie had found a house that was far enough from the road with working locks and insulated enough to offer warmth. Nobody dared light a fire in case the Living decided to poke around, but it was better than sleeping in another field with one eye open.

You were rubbing a stray bullet between your fingers as you saw on a bench just in front of the house when Daryl approached, the gun that housed said bullet was in your other hand. “I got watch,” he said, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m fine,” you said, keeping your eyes on the dark wall of trees before you.

“Ya need sleep,” he argued, but you remained still.

“I said, I’m fine,” you repeated.

“Ya, that’s what ya always say,” he said. It was silent then as he sat next to you. Daryl knew when not to push you and this was definitely one of those times. If there was one person who could sit in complete silence and say more with just their body language it was you and Daryl appreciated that after hours of constant noise from the rest of the group.

It was after a while that Daryl finally realized what you kept playing with in your hand. He recognized it as a gun that was once shoved in his face when he had first arrived at the quarry with Merle. “That Walsh’s gun?” he asked, nodding his head toward the pistol. You nodded, turning over the weapon in your hand. He wasn’t sure where you had found it, but he could tell that you had cleaned it up. “You thinkin’ about him?”

“I don’t know what happened,” you finally said. “He was so strong…”

“Even the most level-headed people can get corrupted by this world,” Daryl said and you thought it was one of the most profound things he had ever said. Then again, you figured that Daryl was incredibly bright and he just didn’t let people see that side of him.

“I thought he’d be one of the last people standing,” you admitted.

“Didn’t realize you were that close,” Daryl said with a frown.

“He saved my life,” you said with a shrug, remembering back to all the times Shane had pulled a Walker off of you when you were distracted. “He always looked out for Amy, too. Look, he wasn’t a great man, I know that, but I owed him enough. I was hoping he’d make it at least a few more years.”

“I get that,” Daryl said with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. You had noticed that it was getting longer, especially on the sides.

“Sorry,” you said, “I know you hated him.”

“I didn’t trust him,” Daryl clarified.

“Fair enough.”

You sat back into silence then. Your ears were scanning for the familiar groans of the Dead or the subtle footprints of the Living, but so far, nothing had approached the newest nest for the group. You were definitely missing the RV on the more treacherous nights.

Daryl was quiet before he looked over at you. You could see his face out of the corner of your eye, but you tried your hardest to ignore him. You knew Daryl had been looking out for you for a while. Or rather he had been watching you and you knew he was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take any extra steps towards him. No matter how much you wanted it.

“You know,” you began, breaking the silence, “I wanted to study old bones and all that.”

“So, an anthropologist?” Daryl said. You looked over at him with shock on your face and he clocked it immediately. “What, I watched the History Channel,” he defended, causing you to laugh.

“Yeah, Daryl, just like that,” you said. “I wanted to know how humanity began, but I’m only seeing what we’ve become,” you said as you stared at a Walker corpse that Maggie had downed a few hours before.

Your hand began to twitch then, a nervous habit you had developed as a teenager. It always exposed everything that you were too afraid to say. There was something about the way your body always knew what was wrong before your mind did. You figured it was something to do with the survival instincts that had kicked in the night they dropped fire on Atlanta and other major cities.

Daryl noticed your hand instantly. “You’re doing it again,” he said quietly.

“Nervous habit,” you said, clenching your fist, trying to quiet your nerves. “It used to drive my mom crazy.”

“You don’t talk about her anymore,” Daryl noticed. Turning to look at him, you furrowed your brow. “It’s just, ya used to talk about her at the quarry with Amy and Andrea a lot,” he said with a shrug.

“Guess I haven’t been in the mood to be sentimental lately,” you said.

“I get that,” he said as he continued to watch the slight tremor in your palms. “My mom died before all this,” he said and you were surprised to hear him say anything about his family. Besides Merle, Daryl never mentioned anything about his past. At least, not to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“I’m just glad ya know, that she didn’t have to see all this shit,” he said and you knew what he was talking about. In an odd way, anyone who had died before the outbreak lucked out. Nobody deserved to see the new horrors of the world and nobody deserved to be fighting tooth and nail just to survive. Lifting your head to the sky, you watched as a single star shot across the darkness before it disappeared again in the plethora of stars and scattered moonlight.

“Odd, isn’t it?” you asked.

“What?”

“That because the world is dark, we finally see the stars. Living in cities always hid them,” you said with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Daryl said, following your gaze.

“ ‘Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars’,” you quoted with ease.

“Tolkien, huh?” Daryl said, recognizing the words.

“Look at you,” you teased and Daryl rolled his eyes.

“I read,” Daryl defended and you raised your hands in surrender. The movement then sparked something in Daryl as he caught your hand in his and held it gently. Your hands stilled from the warmth and firm grip of the archer’s hands. You were sitting in silence as he began to rub his thumbs along the nerves and muscles in your hands.

Daryl was silent as he caressed your hand, taking his time to soothe your anxieties away. “You are gonna be okay,” he whispered, his focus on his task.

“How do you know?” you whispered back.

“Because ya ain’t one to let this world beat ya,” Daryl said simply. You took a minute for that to sink in and you knew that he was right. If anything, you were not going to give up so that the dying world took you with it. You knew that death was inevitable, but you also knew that you had come too far already to start to give up now. “Do you know the story of the man who fought off three bears and lived?” Daryl asked suddenly.

Looking over at him, you raised your brows. “What?” Daryl nodded.

“Yeah, the crazy son of a bitch jumped into a bear enclosure at a zoo to test if he could survive the worst possible thing,” he said. “Fought them all off with his hands and a tree branch. Nobody thought a person could do that and he did. Only came out of there with a broken hand.”

“Is there a moral to this story?” you asked. Daryl turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines on your palm.

“Don’t try to fight bears unless you’re high on pretty hardcore shit because he had to have been, right?” Daryl said easily and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of your chest. Daryl gave you a smile then and you realized what he was doing.

“Was that story even true?” you asked.

“Nah,” Daryl said. “Does it matter, though?”

“Not at all,” you whispered, wrapping your other hand around the joined ones between you. Moving closer to him, you leaned into him, feeling his body heat. “Thanks.”

Daryl gently lifted your hand to his face and pressed a kiss to the back of it in a very rare act of tenderness. His lips lingered on your skin for just a second before relaxing further into you.

“Anytime,” he murmured as you sank into comfortable silence and watched for the enemy that was sure enough to break through your newfound bubble of peace. However, you knew that when that happened, the man by your side would be the one to jump into the fray and wrestle with a few bears of his own.

TAGS: @thanossexual @felicisimor @moonstuffsteve @lucillethings @stark-dreams

#walkerwords #the walking dead #twd imagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon #twd #imagines #daryl x gn reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagine

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vizowrites · 3 years ago

Note

What if one day Stolas makes an unexpected appearance at IMP and he doesnt know yet of the relationship between Blitz and Striker and he starts getting all touchy and baby talking him and Blitz is clearly uncomfortable and Striker is just like "bitch no" and goes ferral on Stolas

.....The smile I just got on my face from reading this. You are the best and thank you so much for this Love!! :D

[I went ahead and put in the break here because I ended up more or less writing a full oneshot for this and I didn’t want to overwhelm anyone’s feeds with just how long this thing is!! I’M SO SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH!! ;-; I really really hope you like it tho!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3]

Here's the thing about life at I.M.P. lately: it just managed to get to a place that could kind of be called "normal". Not “peaceful”--Satan no--there was absolutely no peace to be found in that office between Striker and Moxxie’s ongoing dick measuring contest [Striker was, in fact, bigger on all fronts as Blitz liked to point out regularly], Loona only ever being as helpful as she felt like at the time, and Blitz just being.....himself. It wasn’t “peace”--it was chaos in its purest form.

The strange thing was though, it was that very chaos that had become it's own kind of ‘normal’ for their team over the last few weeks. No, not even “team” but......family. It didn’t seem possible but that really was the most accurate way to describe what they were now. Somehow, somewhere along the way, a former circus clown, two assassins, a Hellhound, and a hitman all managed to come together and form themselves into something that could actually be called a family. And the even crazier thing was, even if they never acknowledged it out loud, they all knew it was true at the varying depths of their hearts.

It had been a long time since Blitz had felt this sure that he was loved.

“You alright there Darlin’?”

Striker’s voice brought him back into the meeting room he only just then realized he was still sitting in--despite the fact that they’d wrapped things up about 5 minutes ago and everyone else except him and Striker had already filed out. He knew that. He totally knew that. His ass just happened to want a few extra minutes of personal time with his chair was all.

.....And yes, it was a lot easier for him to think about the bond between his ass and his chair than it was to think about the bond between himself and his new family. Shut up, he wasn’t used to being this happy.

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about more shit,” Blitz replied with a small grin, the curve on his lips only growing when Striker reached into his pocket and flicked a coin to him with a playful smirk.

He still had no idea why this was the inside joke they’d chosen to keep running with for this long, but he nonetheless felt the warmth bubble up in his chest the second the the coin landed in his hands. It always took him back to the very first one that Striker had ever slipped to him on one of their first nights together when they were just hanging out on the couch and Blitz’s mind has drifted off to.....whatever the fuck it had gone to. Striker, being the smooth motherfucker he is, had drawn his attention back to their living room by simply pressing a coin to his palm. “I know your thoughts ain’t this cheap,” he’d said, that sexy deep voice of his murmuring right into Blitz’s ear and making him instantly purr. “But maybe you can take this as a down payment til I get my check from Joe and Lin next week.”

Clever bastard had charmed him with good old fashioned capitalism--and it was still working for him even now. Damn him.

“Just thinking about how fucking comfortable these chairs are in here,” Blitz said, pocketing the coin and giving a small stretch as he reclined back as far as the chair would let him--and then tested his luck by leaning back a fraction farther. “That and thinking about whether or not I want to fuck in here on our lunch break, or take things back to the office.” He flashed a truly impish grin at that last bit, his tail flicking into a tantilizing arch. “Still can’t quite decide yet.”

Striker barked out a laugh in reply, not entirely sure that Blitz was telling the truth for what had distracted him so much but honestly was amused enough by the answer he got to go along with it for now. He circled around the table to move behind Blitz’s chair, gazing down at his partner with a quirked eyebrow and [affectionate] smirk. “You sure you’re feelin’ up to a full lunch break fuck? You seem like you’re still stretchin’ out your back after the one we had just before the meetin’.”

Striker’s tail flicked around from behind him to lightly poke at Blitz’s, the tip giving a playful rattle that no one other than his mate ever got to hear.

“My back’s just been stupid lately--you know that,” Blitz replied with an equally playful tongue-flick, his tail coiling around Striker’s and giving a soft tug. “I still think you threw it out fucking me into the desk yesterday.”

“It’s been givin’ you trouble since before that,” Striker pointed out with a gentle tug in return to Blitz’s tail, even as the brief flare of the particularly unhappy thought of the time frame for Blitz’s back troubles--a few weeks prior, at the end of the month--sparked in his mind. He wasn’t going to say it, he wasn’t going to even let himself think it more than he already had. There was no room for disgusting rich pompous Goetias between them here in their own fucking office. “You want me to try and rub it out for ya again?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Blitz insisted as he always did, reaching up to lightly brush back a stray strand of Striker’s hair that had managed to escape from beneath his hat when the snake imp had tilted his head to look down at him in the chair. “My back’ll figure out it’s life eventually. But if you’re still looking for something to rub--” The grin spread across Striker’s face even before Blitz’s, gazing into each other’s eyes with the same wild passion. “--I can think of something else that I wouldn’t say no to.”

“That so?” The amusement that danced across Striker’s eyes was truly hypnotizing, making Blitz utterly incapable of looking anywhere else.

“I mean, if the offer still stands, of course,” Blitz said with the faintest undertone of a purr, his eyes shining as bright as a flame.

“You sure it’s that offer you’re really wantin’ ta be standin’ right now?” Striker asked as the corner of his lips tugged upwards, gently shifting Blitz’s chair back upright and slowly turning it around so that he was facing Blitz properly. He wanted to look his mate in the eye when he said whatever it was that he was going to say in response to that.

“Well I know that I’m perfectly comfortable right where I’m at,” Blitz begain with a grin, his crimson eyes glinting as they shamelessly raked up and down Strker’s body appreciatively. “So if you’re volunteering, I’m not about to fucking stop you. Though I suppose I could at least be nice enough to take this to the chair that we can both kinda almost fit in together. Let’s go to the off--oh fuck!”

Blitz had thought he was about to be cute by being the first one to “stand” in the form of finally detaching his ass from the chair, but that soon proved to be much easier to do in theory than in practice as the ache in his lower back flared and he found himself tilting forward right into Striker’s arms. Whatever playfulness and passion had been in the serpentine imp’s eyes instantly flicked into pure worry as his hands quickly caught and steadied his mate, giving him a minute to settle into the stability before very carefully helping to ease him the rest of the way up.

“I think we might need to bump the “lunch break fuck” down ta more of a “maybe after work fuck”--if we’re both feelin’ like it,” Striker said a bit grimly, still keeping a steadying hand under Blitz’s arm even though the smaller imp had already straightened himself back up as if nothing had even happened. “An’ either way, I think you oughta try to take it on the easier side for the rest of today. If new clients call or come in or whatever--fine. Go ahead an’ work ‘em into the schedule for next week. But maybe let me n’ Millie take care of the job we have lined up for this afternoon.....and Moxxie, I guess, if he can actually learn how to be useful for once."

“The FUCK did you just say?” Moxxie’s sudden sharp voice cutting in caused both Bltiz and Striker’s heads to turn, finding him standing there in the doorway looking appropriately offended. “I’ll have you know that I’m always useful!” He said as he strode back into the room, marching right up to Striker with what Blitz referred to as his “bitch fest face” on. “Annnnnnd unlike SOME people in this room, I don’t need to be constantly reminded of it in order to get off to my own ego!!”

Striker’s eyebrow raised a fraction, the corners of his mouth tugging into the kind of slow grin that even to this day had Moxxie taking a slight step backwards when he saw it. “You sayin’ my ego is bigger than yours, little dude?”

“To be fair, your everything is bigger than his,” Blitz said with a light flick of his tail, smirking as he leaned up to press a kiss to Striker’s cheek--and subtly shifted his arm out of Striker’s hold with that quick reassurance that he really was fine now. “Anyway, if anyone needs me, I’m gonna be in my office for a bit. And if anyone wants to run out and pick up some food for lunch, just bring me back something spicy!!”

“Again?” Moxxie asked as he and Striker followed Blitz out of the room and back into their main reception area. “Sir can’t we please have something else today? We’ve had spicy for the last two weeks!”

“Miiiiiiillie, do you want to go spicy for lunch today?” Blitz asked sweetly as he looked over at her, batting his eyelashes in a way that was stupidly adorable.

“Hell yes!!” Millie said with all of her natural exhuberence from where she’d been sitting on the couch sharpening her favorite two-handed axe, her eyes lighting up as much as her boss’s at the promise of food that was basically fire. “You know I’m always up for spice, Blitz!”

“Great! Then spicy it is,” Blitz declared happily, looking over at Moxxie’s defeated face with a look of triumph on his own. “Soooooooo if you guys wanna run out and grab that real quick, that would be awesome. Loonie honey, you can go too if you want to--I can stay here and handle the phones while you’re off on your break.”

“Sweet.” Loona didn’t look up from her phone once as she said this, but nonetheless got up to go with as soon as Moxxie and Millie had grabbed the keys to the van and prepared to leave. She’d learned the hard way not to stick around the office for lunch breaks when it was otherwise just going to be Blitz and Striker there. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone!”

“Should be a lot easier to do when Moxxie’s not here shooting my fucking eels!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake it was ONE TIME Blitz--!!” Whatever else Moxxie might’ve had to say in his defense was cut off as Millie and Loona dragged him out into the hall with them and shut the door behind them--leaving Striker and Blitz alone.

“Y’know that you could’ve gone with them too if you wanted,” Blitz offered in a quieter voice, letting a bit more reassurance slip back in now that it was just the two of them again. “Like I said before, I’m fine--a little sore or whatever but it’s not like it’s bad.” He shifted his arms up to drape over Striker’s shoulders, stretching out his back a little in the process as if to prove a point. “See? I bet we could still pencil in that lunch break fuck if you wanted to.”

“Mmhmm.” Striker didn’t look the slightest bit convinced, but he had to admit that it was harder to stick to his guns than he liked it to be when Blitz’s face was so close to his own like this.

.....But he still fucking knew better.

“The thing is, though, you already promised Loona that you’d man the phones for her while she’s out gettin’ lunch,” Striker murmured as his hands slid along Blitz’s hips and around his waist, his right palm pressing into the small of Blitz’s back and massaging gently at the tight muscle he felt there. “And I still got a couple o’things I need to do to prepare for our afternoon job. So why don’t you go make yourself comfortable in your office for a bit, and actually take the break to relax for once.”

“.....In my defense, fucking on our lunch breaks IS relaxing.”

“Blitz.”

“Alright, alright.....fiiiiiiiiiiine,” Blitz gave in with a small roll of his eyes, nonetheless lifting himself up onto his toes to sneak a quick kiss to Striker’s lips. “But for the record, I don’t need my back to suck your dick. Just saying!!”

Striker’s hand shifted from Blitz’s lower back to swat lightly at his ass as he turned to walk himself to his office, earning a slight jump and a loud “HA!” from the smaller imp that had Striker both shaking his head and smiling from ear to ear all at the same time. Fuck’s sake, he loved his mate so much.

It was one of the times--times that Striker noticed had been happening more and more frequently lately--where the word “mate” had been dangerously, longingly, nearly overtaken by the word “husband” in his mind.

One day. Soon.

Straightening the brim of his hat and adjusting it more securely on his head, Striker let that ever-present thought drift back to its usual place on the sidelines as today’s job shifted to the forefront. If it was just going to be him, Millie, and Moxxie for this one, then he needed to be the one taking over the planning for how things were gonna go because fuck letting Moxxie have the second-in-command leadership role. He was going to be lucky if his role didn’t turn out to be being bait.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Striker chose to do something a touch more productive and made his way over to Loona’s desk to grab the file they had on their afternoon target, wanting to give it a good read-through before he started finalizing too many details. Normally he would’ve joined Blitz in his office for this, but he knew damn well that if he did, the last thing Blitz was going to do was sit still and take a break. Instead, he decided to make himself comfortable right there at the reception desk--figuring that Loona wouldn’t give two shits about him being in her chair while she was out anyway--and if by some miracle Blitz managed to take enough of a break that he ended up dozing off at his desk, then Striker wanted to have the quick and easy access to the phone.

He knew better, but he could hope.

It wasn’t too long before Moxxie, Millie, and Loona came back with several bags of take-out and a to-go tray of drinks from one of the local coffee shops that happened to be Blitz’s favorite. Moxxie had the fifth drink--his own--already in hand, and seemed to be midway through complaining that not only did they put “Foxxie” on the cup again, but they also only gave him two pumps of vanilla instead of three. “--is it really so hard to count to three?? I mean, seriously!”

“Oh hey look, we’re back,” Loona said flatly and loudly as she dropped her portion of the bags unceremoniously on the coffee table before setting down the drink tray a fraction more gently. “So you can definitely start getting out food to shove in your face instead of bitching about your coffee for another 20 minutes.”

She looked up when she caught sight of Striker strolling over out of the corner of her eye, a hint of a smile flashing across her face before it disappeared into her box of ‘things she can’t just show her parents to let them know she likes them’. Instead she reached down to carefully pry his usual coffee order out from the tray, offering it to him with a wary, “So.....Blitz has his clothes back on now, right?”

“Never took ‘em off I don’t think,” Striker replied, tilting his head in a nod towards the closed office door. “I told him ta take the break to relax for once. Not that he knows how, but, y’know. Figured it was worth the shot.”

“I hope he at least got a nap in or somethin’,” Millie said as she started to unpack all of their to-go boxes, popping them open to see who’s was who’s and arranging them into their respective groups on the table. “He’s seemed a little off lately--is that just me? Almost like he’s tired. Has he been going on his 2am coffee binges again or...?” There was a genuine touch of concern in her eyes as she slid Striker’s food over to his side of the table.

A small frown crossed the snake imp’s face in response. “He--”

Yet before Striker could finish that thought, the “or” itself strode in through the main entrance of I.M.P. with a flourish:

Stolas.

“Hello.....tiny other imps,” he greeted with as much enthusiasm and a wave as he could bring himself to care to muster, his gaze entirely missing the looks of surprise, confusion, and outright fury in Milile’s, Moxxie’s, and Striker’s eyes as he instead paused to smile pleasantly to Loona. “And my darling Blitzy’s little hellhound, hello dear. How are you?”

“Hungry,” came the automatic, unimpressed response as Loona’s eyes narrowed slightly, resisting the urge to growl at him. She read this fucker’s spellbook. She knew just what he was capable of doing to them if he really wanted to. “It’s our lunch break so--”

“Oh how delightful!” Stolas interrupted gleefully, his eyes lighting up as his hands clapped together. “Then I came at just the right time--”

“Maybe ya didn’t hear her, seein’ as how ya didn’t let her finish talkin’,” Striker fought tooth and nail to keep his voice at a civilized tone, even if he couldn’t keep his tail from rattling fiercely in agitation. “But we’re about ta sit down for lunch. If there��s somethin’ ya need taken care of business wise, ya can come back later when the office is open again.”

“Oh I’m not here for business with you,” Stolas assured with a dismissive wave, chuckling softly as if the idea itself was preposterous. “No no, I’m here for--Blitzy!! There you are darling!”

Five pairs of eyes instantly flashed to the office door just in time to see Blitz stop just outside of it, his own eyes perplexedly scanning the scene before him before they inevitably landed back on Stolas.

The look that came over his face had Striker’s claws digging into the palms of his hands hard enough to draw blood.

“Stolas, I.....what are you doing here?” Blitz heard himself asking, taking an unconscious half step back into the doorway as the Goetian Prince easily wove his way around the others to stride right up to him. “I told you, we have a job to do today--”

“Ohhhhhhh I know you what said over the phone,” Stolas cooed with his mocking affection as he reached up to roughly pinch at Blitz’s cheek. “Which is why I thought I might be able to pursuade you more effectively if I came in person.” He traced his finger along the side of Blitz’s jaw, choosing to interpret the shiver Blitz gave in response as one of pleasure. “Doesn’t that sound more fun to you, my little plaything?”

Blitz caught sight of the sudden blurr of movement behind Stolas, and his eyes widened when he realized the figure moving towards them was Striker. Panicking, and not wanting Stolas to have the chance to realize what was happening here, he quickly caught the front of the Prince’s cloak and tugged, hissing out in a less than romantic tone, “Let’s take this into my office, Stolas.”

He ignored the fact that those words had Stolas blushing like a schoolgirl and moaning wantonly with an, “Oh Blitzy yes!”

Before the owl prince got the chance to say anything more degrading, however, the door to the inner office slammed shut with the two of them disappearing behind it--leaving Striker, Loona, Moxxie, and Millie cut off from them on the other side.

Not a single one of them looked happy about this.

“Should we um...I mean...his food’s gonna get cold,” Millie finished lamely, her voice just loud enough to break the silence. She looked down at the box of still lightly-steaming onion rings in her hands--the surprise splurge she had ordered just to share with Blitz.

“Here,” Moxxie offered, reaching out to take the containers from his wife. “I’ll put them in the microwave for him until he’s--”

“No.”

Striker’s voice cut through Moxxie’s with the deadly sharpness of his favorite hunting knife, still standing there in the middle of the room and still facing Blitz’s closed office door. He didn’t speak again, and the others weren’t able to see the expression on his face with his back turned towards them as it was. Loona’s nose, however, twitched as it finally registered the metallic scent in the air, and her eyes instantly snapped down to the source and widened as she watched the slight trickle of red seep out from between her step-dad’s tightly clenched fingers. She took a small step towards him, worry flashing sharp in her gaze, but before she was able to reach him, he was suddenly moving away from her and towards the door.

Blitz’s door.

“What are you going to do?” She heard the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think if she should be asking them or not.

Striker paused as his hand came to rest on the doorknob, entirely heedless to the thin smearing of blood between his palm and the metal. He again didn’t speak--at least, not right away--and for a minute, Loona almost wondered if he was listening, trying to hear what was happening on the other side of the door.

And then, he finally spoke:

“I’m gonna tell that disgusting rich pompous Goetia to get his fucking hands off of your dad, our boss, and my partner.”

He let himself into the office--the very first time he’d done so without stopping to knock first.

~*~

Blitz hadn’t actually thought he possessed any kind of self control up until now, but it was the only explanation he could think of for how he was keeping himself from screaming.

Stolas. Was. Not. Listening. To. Him.

Not that he ever listened, but fucking hell this was ridiculous.

“Why are you here?” he demanded, not even trying to hide the exasperation in his voice. “I told you the first time you called that we had clients lined up all day today--I fucking told you that I was busy and that if you really needed a quickie, to go and get your fucking butler to jack you off or something! It’s not the full moon Stolas. Why are you here??”

“Oh come now, Blitzy, you know that I would never let something as silly as all that stop me from coming to see my favorite imp,” Stolas trilled sweetly, his crimson eyes glowing even in the low office light as he reached out to pet along Blitz’s curved horns. “As if I need an excuse--you truly are just too cute sometimes. Besides, I think we can both agree that our little rendezvous a couple weeks ago didn’t exactly end up being nearly as pleasurable as we both would have liked. But never you fear, darling, I completely forgive you for it.”

“Forgive ME? You broke my fucking h--!!”

“Now now,” Stolas’s fingers shifted from their tender caressing to pressing none-too-gently against his lips to silence him, a vibrant glint shimmering through his eyes as he smiled pleasantly. “Let’s not go down that path again, shall we my little imp? Besides, now that I’m here in person, you can finally make it up to me properly. I even brought a special present for you--something you forgot to grab on your way out. Honestly, you really must learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, silly thing.”

Yet before Stolas could produce said “special present”, the door to the office swung open and Striker strode into the room.

Blitz felt his heart stop in his chest.

“Striker--”

“Now really,” Stolas cut him off with a huff, crossing his arms as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Is this how you allow your employees to behave all the time, Blitzy? I thought for sure you would have found a way to manage them better.”

“He is not the problem here,” Striker’s voice, though low, still managed to sound out loud and clear over the intense rattling of his tail as he blazed across the room on a war path to Stolas. “He can fuckin’ manage us however he fuckin’ wants because he’s our fuckin’ boss. He has the right to tell you to get the fuck out because this is his fuckin’ office and you ain’t fuckin’ welcome here. And if you don’t keep your fucking hands off of him, I’m gonna tear them off with my bare fuckin’ teeth and shove them so far up your ass that you’re gonna be able ta fuck yourself from now on without needin’ anyone else ta do it for ya!!”

The room went still for a solid beat of silence as Blitz stared.

Striker now stood mere inches from Stolas’s face, his eyes burning with an acidic hatred as he kept one hand extended in front of Blitz protectively, and let the other hand linger dangerously over the pistol holstered at his hip. Stolas, for his part, stood there motionless with his owl eyes huge in shock. He seemed to be having trouble comprehending what was happening here, though which specific part was tripping him up--if it was being threatened by an imp or if it was realizing that his Blitzy might not be as much “his” as he first thought--was impossible to say. Blitz couldn’t have even tried to take a guess what was going through his mind just then. He could barely process what was going through his own. His heart was racing too fast for his brain to keep up.

He didn’t even notice the moment that Stolas’s stunned gaze shifted from Striker to himself, or the change that shifted in the prince’s eyes that caused Striker’s to narrow further.

“Now for the last fuckin’ time,” the cowboy said, his voice lowering into an openly threatening hiss as he shifted himself to now stand fully in front of Blitz, shielding him from Stolas. “We’re on our lunch break. The office is closed. Get the fuck out.”

Blitz only then managed to tear his gaze away from his mate to instead look at Stolas--and found his face as hard and cold as stone. It was an expression that Blitz had never seen on the owl’s face before, and seeing it now sent a chill down his spine that was hard enough to make him shiver. He didn’t know exactly what it meant.....but he knew that whatever it was wasn’t good.

Yet the Prince, of all things, took a slight step back.

“Very well.” Stolas’s face remained as neutral as his eerily calm voice, his gaze slowly--deliberately--dragging itself away from Blitz to instead properly face Striker once more. “I see that there may have been a slight misjudgement on my part for your boss’s availability today. I will be sure to contact your office at a more appropriate time to schedule a formal appointment--” His vivid crimson eyes flicked back to Blitz’s, as his usual pleasant smile spread slowly across his face once more. “--where it can be just the two of us.”

“Get. Out.” Striker’s tail thrashed once behind him, the sound its rattling filling the room.

“And you,” Stolas said, his gaze flashing back to Striker with a near break-neck speed, flashing in a surge of barely contained power that still seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. “While I admire that terribly forceful nature of yours, I highly suggest that you remember just to whom you are speaking. And just to whom you owe your continued opportunities that keep your schedules oh so busy. Which reminds me, darling Blitzy....bring the book with you to our next meeting.”

Yet instead of exiting the way he had come--through the office door--he simply opened up a bright purple portal right there in the middle of the office and stepped through it, disappearing into a room that Striker guessed [and Blitz knew] was his private study.

The two of them were left alone in Blitz’s office just like they’d been so many times before--and yet had never been before quite like this.

Blitz let out a shaky breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

“Striker,” he called softly when he realized that his mate was still planted in that firmly defensive stance, reaching out to catch his hand--and jumping when he felt a sticky substance coating his palm. “Striker what the fuck! Holy shit, are you bleeding??”

“What?” Striker had completely forgotten about his hands over the course of their exchange with Stolas, at least up until the point he felt himself being dragged back out of the office and forcibly sat down with the others still sitting silently at the table. “It ain’t bad, Blitz--an’ I don’t even think it’s bleedin’ anymore.”

His mate, of course, ignored him in favor of digging through the drawers for a first aid kit, muttering something about stupid sexy boyfriends who were complete fucking dumbasses under his breath, and Striker resigned himself to just sitting there waiting until he inevitably found what he was looking for.

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was the sudden feeling of another hand taking his and turning it so that it was palm up, and turning back to see Moxxie of all people squinting over it.

What the fuck even was today.

“It doesn’t look bad,” he reported after a minute, his nose wrinkling a little as he took in each of the claw-shaped indents. “Definitely not as much damage as you could’ve done to yourself. I--unfortunately--think you’ll live.”

And yet there was something in Moxxie’s voice and the look he gave Striker as he released his hand that suggested that, maybe for the first time, it wasn’t such an unfortunate thing after all. It even got a giggle from Millie and a small smile from Loona and.....it was just then that Striker realized they were all looking at him with similar looks on their faces. Almost as if they were happy he was still there in one piece.

What the fuck.

“Found it!!” Blitz triumphantly held up the very battered first aid kit and brought it back to the table, carefully cleaning off Striker’s hands and treating them before bandaging them up. When he was done, he paused, hesitating as a touch of pink rose up in his cheeks, before he seemed to decide ‘fuck it’ and pressed a soft kiss to the center of his palms before putting everything away. “There. Now let’s finally fucking eat already. I’m starving.”

“I got everything all reheated and ready to go!” Millie grinned as she returned from the microwave with the last of the to go boxes, setting it down in front of Blitz with a mischevous glee in her eyes. “Look Blitz--I got us onion rings!!”

Blitz’s eyes widened into hearts as he gave a surprised squeak of pure happiness, looking up at Millie as if in awe of her excellence. “Okay Moxx, I hate to break it to you, but you officially have your title of Employee of the Month in danger of going to your wife instead. You’re gonna have to do something really fucking fantastic to get it back at this point. Like really fucking fantastic.”

He went to reach for one--only to stop and blink in surprise when he noticed that Striker had already taken one from the box.

“Hey,” Striker said, lighty nudging the side of Bltiz’s arm as he offered him, of all things, the onion ring. “.....You wanna get hitched?”

It took Blitz a solid minute to process just what Striker was doing--even with the simultaneous round of dropped jaws and wide stares and Moxxie choking on the first bite of his sandwich--before realization finally dawned and Blitz just found himself helplessly laughing like a maniac.

“Yes,” he said, accepting the onion ring with the most reckless grin on his face. “Yes I fucking do.”

#fun #vizowritesanswers #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Dark!Stolas AU if you want it to be #the scariest thing about Dark!Stolas is that he essentially acts very much the same as regular canon Stolas #this can also ttly be taken as a sequel to my first Dark!Stolas AU post and I openly invite you to interpret it that way #I think it adds an extra layer of :)#THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH FOR THIS PROMPT!!#I love the hell out of it <3 <3 #It was also a ton of fun to throw in so many little winks and nudges from previous posts in here hehehehehehehehe #I tried to leave it as open for interpretation as possible just so that everybody can take what they want from this!!#was Blitz going to say 'horse' or was he going to say 'hip'?#is his back hurting from something Stolas did?#is it from Striker fucking him a little to roughly into the desk?#is it alluding to him being pregnant with the twins??#I'll never tell <3 <3 #well unless I end up writing more for this AU in which case I suppose then I'll have to make a few things clear huh XD #but yes!! like I said #please interpret this how you will <3 <3 #I hope you guys like it!! <3 <3 #I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS WAIT BUT I HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT LOVE!!#helluva-simp

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years ago

Note

hi. you still taking prompts? sambucky meet cute: the lobby of some kind of really tall building and they both have to get to the to top floors. bucky gets to the elevator first, pushes the "door close" button cause he's in a hurry even though he sees sam rushing towards it, but sam gets there just in time. he saw what bucky did so in retaliation he just pushes every single button to make bucky late. now they're stuck in the longest elevator ride, having to stop at every floor

Friend, this is not a meet cute. This is full on meet ugly 😅

AO3 link in the reblog

Push All My Buttons

Bucky was being haunted. That was the only logical explanation for how someone followed him from Brooklyn to Manhattan, mostly on foot. He’d seen the same guy on two trains, across approximately a thousand city blocks, and in the dumb cafe that Bucky squeezed into five seconds after it opened.

And now, the same handsome young black man was standing in the middle of the Stark Tower lobby, looking lost. Bucky quickly hit the close door button of the elevator that he blessedly had to himself. Apparently, he hit it too loud because the guy’s gaze snapped over to him and recognition lit on his face.

Bucky hit Close Door again.

“Hey! Could you hold that!” the guy called, jogging across the lobby floor and avoiding milling people. The fucking tourists on the ground level were killer.

Bucky was not letting a stalker into the elevator with him when he had 91 floors to get up. He hit Close Door for a third time.

Finally, the guy seemed to realize what Bucky was doing and he scowled before tossing his army bag towards the closing doors. They hit the bag and opened up just in time for the guy to jog over, grab his bag, and step inside.

“You’re kind of an asshole,” he said as he slung the duffle over his shoulder again.

“I’m late to a meeting,” Bucky said, which was true. Mostly what he wanted to say was ‘don’t kill me and wear my face as a mask’ or whatever someone who’d followed him over three boroughs would want to do.

The man looked over at him from the corner of his eyes, looked at the highlighted 91 and then reached over to smooth his hand up every single button on the machine. 2-93 lit up.

Bucky stared.

The man crossed his arms. “Now we’re both late.”

92 and 93 unlit themselves. Those were Stark’s personal suites. 2-91 remained lit.

“You fucking asshole,” Bucky groaned and dragged his hands over his face. “Why would you do that? I’m meeting with Stark. I’ve got his-his-his fucking coffee. Jesus.”

“Because I’d rather be late and piss you off than be on time and let you get away with trying to close the door in my face.”

“What was the point of following me all the way around the city? Are you trying to make my life difficult?”

Now the man fully turned to look over at him. The elevator stopped on the second floor and no one was waiting. “I’m not following you. I don’t even know who you are.”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky asked. “You’ve been on my ass since Lloyd’s, in Brooklyn.”

The man frowned. The elevator eased up to the next floor. “Why would you stop at Lloyd’s if you were coming all the way in here?”

“I like to eat on my commute, that’s not the point! You followed me!”

“Pal, I dunno how to tell you that anyone coming from Brooklyn to Stark Tower’s gotta take a pretty similar route.”

“It’s Bucky, pal.”

“Sam,” the guy said and then honest to God offered his hand out like he wasn’t actively ruining Bucky’s life.

On the fifth floor, someone stepped into the elevator, looked at the buttons and stepped back out. Bucky shook Sam’s hand with a resigned sigh.

“Where’d you get that piece of machinery on your arm?” Sam asked around floor eight.

“It’s not on my arm,” Bucky answered. “It is my arm.”

Sam rolled his eyes and punched the door close button. “Fine, where’d you get that piece of machinery on your torso?”

“It’s not Stark tech,” he answered because he knew that was actually what Sam was asking about. He let his eyes slide over Sam’s body quickly, trying to discern if Sam was here for a prosthetic. The bag on his shoulder and the silver ball-chain around his neck gave away that he was military. Stark Industries had a veterans program, so there was a good population of soldiers walking around the building at any given time. Sam was wearing pants, so Bucky couldn’t be totally sure he didn’t have a bad leg, but he hadn’t clocked any limp or awkward gait since Brooklyn. “You here for a prosthetic?” he asked anyway.

Sam snorted and shook his head. The door opened again and someone got on before reaching to press the ground level button.

“Shit,” the woman said, upon seeing everything else lit up. She quickly hit the door open button and jumped back out. “You know, if you two wanted extra time together, having the doors open on every floor was probably a bad idea.”

“That’s not what we--” Bucky started to argue, but the doors slid shut in front of him.

“Anyway,” Sam started again. “I’m not here for a prosthetic. I’m here with Colonel Rhodes.”

“Wow, big man on campus,” Bucky said drily.

“Oh, right, you’re so unimportant, going up to the 91st floor,” Sam shot back.

“I work here,” Bucky said. He held up the quickly cooling coffee in his hands. “Glorified secretary most days, but I’m supposed to be an engineer.”

“What kind of machines do you work with?”

“Not the planes or the suits. Military tech, mostly. I try to stay away from weapons when I can.”

“Did you serve?” Sam asked.

Wish I hadn’t, Bucky wanted to say. “Nah, actually I lost my arm when Stark flew into an uncaffeinated rage and threw a saw at me.”

“Whatever, man. There’s a thousand ways to lose an arm. It ain’t gotta be out in the desert.” His cheeks didn’t quite color, but he crossed his arms and stared ahead.

“Mountains,” Bucky corrected. “Special OPs.”

“Oh, right, but I’m the big man on campus,” Sam said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Rhodes is a big deal around here. You think Stark’s letting him out of his sight for just anyone?”

“The Air Force is testing a new gadget. Rhodes is involved ‘cause Air Force. Maybe you worked on it.”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s a big program. Stark’s got a lot of things going on all at once. Lots of engineers and designers.”

The elevator stopped on the 25th floor and Sam and Bucky both said, “We’re going up,” at the same time to keep the group of suits from crowding into the elevator with them.

Sam kicked his bag into the corner and sat down heavily in front of it, leaning back and closing his eyes. “So you’re a soldier who works for Stark Industries but didn’t get your prosthetic from him, even though he’s the cutting edge of prosthetics and has a full-paid program for those injured in duty.”

Bucky gave up and sat down too. He cradled the coffee cup between his legs, which was probably a bad idea, but this whole morning had been bad. “My story’s a little more complicated than that,” he said. “A lot more twists and turns. My arm is still high tech, though. I asked for a flamethrower, or at least a saw hand but I didn’t get it.”

Sam laughed and, for the first time all morning, Bucky thought maybe he wasn’t so angry at him anymore. Sam laughed like nothing had ever hurt him before, which made it feel like maybe nothing had hurt Bucky either. “Well, there’s your problem. Stark would’ve definitely given you that, from what I hear about the man.”

Bucky grinned over at him and dropped his head back against the wall. It was uncomfortable and the jostling of the car every few seconds rattled his brain, but it beat standing up, or keeping his eyes on Sam for too long. “You’re still in the service?”

“Well, not all of us are so lucky to get a medical discharge on our first tour.”

“Oh, yeah, real luck of the Irish, me. And it was my second. I wasn’t SpecOps until I finished my first stint in the army.”

“Right, right,” Sam said. Then, “You joined up young.”

“So did you. I mean, I assume you’re on your second or third tour too, if you’re being asked to work with Rhodes.”

“Second. I took a long leave to do some school stuff.”

“Oh, so working with Rhodes and you’re smart. You really are the whole package.”

“I’m working with Colonel Rhodes because I’m smart,” Sam corrected. “I could probably take your job. I’m real techy.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. I’m fond of my apartment and I definitely can’t afford it without being here.”

“Right, I assume you make buck working for Stark.”

“Eh, he’s still a multi-billionaire, he could pay us more.”

“What’s that say about the military then?”

“I’ll drink to that, bro.”

Sam chuckled again and opened his eyes to glance over at Bucky. “How does someone go from losing their arm in a SpecOps mission to working for Stark Industries.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. It’s at least a three course discussion.”

The elevator dinged on level 39 and paused, though there was no one there.

“Almost halfway up,” Sam pointed out.

“You are good at math,” Bucky joked just to see Sam roll his eyes again, which he did. “Why Air Force?” he asked when the doors decided to shut again.

“It’s gonna sound so stupid, but I’ve been dreaming about flying since I was a little kid. I wanted to be an astronaut and a lot of astronauts were in the military. So, air force. Figured if I never got to space, at least I spent years in the air anyway.”

Bucky didn’t think that was stupid at all. “You’re right, that’s pretty dumb.” Sam flipped him off with a laugh. “Are you a good pilot?”

“Pal, I’m one of the best out there.”

“God, you chair force guys are all the same,” Bucky said. He squawked as Sam leaned over to tackle him down. “Coffee, coffee! Sam, if you spill Stark’s coffee I’ll make you explain it to him!” he threatened as Sam pulled him away from the cup that had managed to remain upright by an unlikely bout of luck and physics.

Sam was fucking strong, wrangling Bucky down and holding him still. Sure, he was on his knees and Bucky’s legs were mostly trapped under him, but still. Bucky wasn’t a small guy and the prosthetic wasn’t light either but Sam had tugged him out of the corner anyway.

“Oh my God, seriously?” a guy asked on the next floor.

Bucky took the moment of distraction to dig his knee into Sam’s ribs and flip them over as the doors shut again. He locked his fingers around Sam’s wrist and held it to the floor. Sam tugged at the hold futilely.

“Shit, what’s that made out of?”

“That’s another three course answer.”

“At this rate? No chance,” Sam said and got his foot braced against Bucky’s shoulder before shoving him off. Bucky sat back and made sure the coffee was still standing. Sam leaned up against the wall by the doors. They both took in heavy breaths.

“What are you doing with Rhodes?” Bucky asked at floor fifty, when he was pretty positive they weren’t about to leap at each other again.

“Maybe that’s a three course answer,” Sam responded with a small smirk.

“I didn’t know Stark was working on planes with the Air Force.”

“Did I say plane?”

“Helicopters, whatever,” Bucky amended with a wave of his hand. “What do you fly?”

“I’m pararescue.”

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Shit, that’s more impressive than working with Rhodes, maybe. You a doctor?”

“I’ve got triage training, but I’m not, like, ready to walk into an E.R. as soon as I get home or anything.” Sam ran his hand over his buzzed hair and Bucky suddenly wanted to know what it looked like grown out, or if he’d ever kept it long. How he styled it and if he had facial hair and what he was hiding under his shirt and Jesus Christ, he needed to think about anything else.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, your beside manner probably sucks.”

Sam kicked out his foot lamely, missing Bucky’s by a mile. “You ain’t hurt. I don’t gotta give you no bedside manner.”

“What floor do you want off on?” Bucky asked after a glance at the rapidly dimming lights on on the button panel.

“85.”

“Right, yeah, Rhodes works there. We’re at 70 now.”

“What’s it like? Just offices?”

“Nah, he’s got a whole training floor. There’re a few offices, a reception area, but there’s also a gym and some space for simulated battle, sparring rooms. It’s pretty cool. You’ll have a lot of room for whatever he’s doing.”

Sam nodded and looked over at the gaping doors with the first look of unease he’d had all morning.

“You nervous?”

“You would be too,” Sam answered. “If you knew what I was doing. But, hey,” he looked away as the doors shut, “my partner’s already up there, so I can’t make any more of a fool of myself than he probably already has.”

Bucky grinned and shrugged. “I dunno about that. You seem pretty incapable,” he said sarcastically.

Sam kicked out his leg again and then stood up and grabbed his bag from next to Bucky. “You work here every day?”

Bucky nodded and took Sam’s hand when he offered it down to him to haul himself up. “9 to too late.”

“Well, I’m around for a few weeks. Maybe we could walk together instead of around each other next time,” he suggested.

Bucky ignored the swooping of his stomach. “Yeah, if you can keep up.”

Sam jostled his ribs with an elbow. “I can keep up. You’re the one with the machine on your arm.”

“Yeah, and what about it? I could hand-walk faster than you could run.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Sam snorted. The door opened on floor 80 and Sam’s mouth screwed to one side briefly before he looked at Bucky. “Maybe you’ll get my number out of all of this eventually.”

“Maybe I don’t want it after this stunt.”

Sam placed his hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder solemnly. “You want it.”

With a grin, Bucky shrugged Sam off and shoved him forward. “Get outta here, Wilson.”

“How’d you know--?” Sam asked, taking half a step back to the doors.

Bucky reached over to trace his fingers over the name patch on the other side of the bag. “I’m just a good guesser.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. What’s your--”

The door shut between them and Bucky sagged back against the wall with a sigh. His heart was racing like he was a teenager again and his head felt cloudy. This meeting was not going to go well at this point. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus on anything but Sam’s smile or the way he looked in boots or the weight of him above Bucky’s body.

When the elevator dinged on 91, he grabbed Stark’s coffee and let himself off and then almost immediately ran into Rhodes.

“Oh, hey, sorry. Hey, I was just on the elevator with your meeting,” he said. “Sorry he’s late. I hit a bunch of buttons on accident when I got in,” Bucky lied as he passed the coffee to Stark.

“No harm, no foul,” Rhodey said easily. “Clearly I wasn’t even down there. I was actually waiting on you.”

“Me? What for? I’m not working on anything military.”

“You’re not?” Stark asked around a mouthful of coffee. “You assigning yourself projects now?”

“You didn’t say anything about the wings being military. I mean, how would that even work? It’d put a soldier in the air bare.”

“Yeah,” Stark agreed sarcastically and clapped a hand down on Bucky’s metal arm. “What kind of soldier runs around without full body protection.”

“What are you calling the project?” Rhodey asked, guiding the discussion back to where it was supposed to be.

“EXO-Falcon,” Bucky said. “I was modeling it after some of Stark’s EXO-skeleton suits, but it’s much more compact, situated on the back with all support sitting around the chest and ribs.”

Rhodey nodded. “Can I see them?”

Bucky quickly dashed to his work bench and came back with the wings in their case. “They’re carbon fiber, which makes them a little more flexible and keeps them a little lighter weight. I had thought about doing interlocking plates like my arm, but it wasn’t working. I took some of the more basic structures of my arm and modeled a folding mechanism out of it instead. The wings retract into and out of the case.”

He pulled the jetpack on and stepped away from the other work spaces before clicking the wings open. They snapped out behind him, grand and proud. Not unlike how Bucky was feeling at that moment.

“And the jetpack? Is that ready to go?” Rhodey asked.

Bucky shifted from foot to foot. “Well, in theory. I haven’t tested it out yet ‘cause I’m not trained to do things like that, but I’ve put DUM-E into the air and nothing blew up.”

“Well, the Air National Guard guys here today will be thrilled to hear that,” Stark said. “Shall we?”

“You don’t wanna test the jets before you put it on someone?” Bucky asked, a little strangled. He trusted his design. But he really, really hadn’t put as much time into the whole human safety element as he did the ‘up and running’ element.

“We’ll strap a crash test dummy to them in over the mats. It’ll be fine. The fire suppression system on 85 is better than up here.”

“No it isn’t. It’s just further from your suites,” Rhodey said.

Stark shrugged and tossed a piece of pastry in his mouth. “It’s my building. I say we go down to 85.”

“Well, that’s where I left your trainee or whatever too,” Bucky said as he shrugged off the pack and packed it all back up. “Do you want me to grab the other pack?”

“No worries, I’ve already moved it,” Stark said. “I knew Rhodes was coming by. You’re welcome, those things are heavy.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have DUM-E move it,” Rhodey teased. He made his way over to the elevator and Bucky followed with Stark on his heels. The ride down to 85 was much faster than the ride up to 91. It was a miracle what not hitting every button could do. They stepped out onto the floor and made their way to the training mats, where two other people were already standing.

“Barnes, I’d like to keep you on the Falcon project,” Rhodey said. “No one knows the wings like you do. That being said, you’ll be working with live test subjects now, so it’s a little more critical.”

“Hey, you don’t have to say it that way!” the blond man in the middle of the room said. “Call us, like, Top Guns or something.”

“You don’t get to choose your nickname around here,” Stark called over, propping himself up on a stack of sparring mats to watch from afar. “Ask Manchurian Candidate. He definitely didn’t choose his.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Barnes, this Sergeant Wiatrek and Sergeant Wilson.”

Fuck.

“It’s Barnes, huh?” Sam asked, smugly crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, Sammy, you didn’t hook up with this guy already did you?” the blond asked in teasing horror.

“Screw you, no. I met him this morning.”

“Ah,” Rhodey said with a grin. “This was the meeting you made late,” he said to Bucky.

“Yeah, we met this morning,” Bucky confirmed with a raging blush. How was this his life?

“Well, good, you can get right to work on the wings,” Rhodey said. “Let me go find a crash dummy.”

“DUM-E,” Stark called as Rhodey started away.

“I’ll find that doll first,” Rhodey challenged.

Bucky turned from their bickering and looked at Sam, then the blond next to him.

“It’s Riley,” the other man said and offered out his hand. “I’m better conversation than this one.”

Bucky doubted it. He shook the guy’s hand and then held out the briefcase like a shield between him and Sam’s teasing gaze. “Do you wanna see the wings?”

Riley nodded eagerly and Bucky moved to another stack of mats to open the case. Riley and Sam stood on either side of him. As Riley pulled the jetpack free, Sam pulled out his phone. Bucky thought he was going to film his friend inevitably crashing, but instead he turned on the auto-help.

“Hey, where’s the nearest three-course restaurant?” he asked without looking away from Bucky, without his grin faltering.

Bucky dragged his hands down his face as he looked at Sam. Riley yelped behind them after the tell-tell whoosh of the jet pack, but Sam still didn’t look away. Bucky couldn’t either.

#sambucky #sambucky fanfic #sambucky fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon #the winter soldier #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #i answer things

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cellard0ors · 3 years ago

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Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

#rhink #randl #my writing #peachworthy #oh my sweet peach

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wannabecoyote · 4 years ago

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Sasha woke up, she didn’t remember falling asleep but that’s just every Tuesday for her. Her whole body is sore and lethargic, also a normal Tuesday. What isn’t a normal Tuesday however is WAKING UP IN AN UNFAMILIAR CELL. She very much does not appreciate being imprisoned for god knows whatever reason or at all really. She sat up and tried to practice the breathing exercise she and her friends found.

Breathe in for four seconds. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Rinse and repeat.

She swallowed once she feels calm enough and looked around the room. She’s very surprised that she isn’t descending into yet another panic attack but she ain’t gonna question her good luck now.

She felt for her phone and breathed out a sigh of relief when she found it is still in her pocket. With trembling hands she typed a message to her friend.

‘dude I could be dying rn. im pretty sure I was kidnapped. no cap. idk where I am. keep my witch stuff.’

She took a picture of the cell and sent it to Dylan.

She pocketed her phone with another inhale to fortify herself. She looked around and found her cell sealed with a laser beam thing. Like a sheet of light keeping her in. Like some real Steven Universe shit.

She walked up to it and tried to touch it. She pulled her hand back with a curse when she was zapped unceremoniously by the rude laser. She started flicking her hand trying and failing to shake the pain off.

She put her singed finger in her mouth and looked around for something that could help her. To the opposite of the laser gate was her cot, a raised platform that comes up to her thighs and padded with cushion. To the right hand side was a sink with running water and a glass near it. She assumed that was for her to drink. All she found that are detachable from their posts are pillows, the glass, and blankets. She walked over and snatched the pillow from the cot to test it against the laser.

She held the pillow forward and slowly touched the other side to the laser. She was startled from this when a something moved in the hallway. She threw the pillow away and focused on the figure that slithering closer to her cell by the minute.

She pulled a face of disgust when a weird hybrid of gorgons, aliens from the movie Aliens, and freaking predators came in front of her. It was very disconcerting.

“Human, you are before your queen, bow.” The talking monstrosity said.

The audacity!

“I’m sorry but you ain’t my queen. My queen is Sappho and you don’t look anything like her,” she said and the guards beside the queen gasped.

The queen’s face distorted in anger. Sasha’s face showed her disgust at how uglier the queen became.

“Eugh, dude seriously ngl you look like someone punched your mother’s stomach when she was carrying you and then when she gave birth to you she somehow dropped you multiple times because she always gets surprised by how ugly you are,” she said with a shrug. If she was gonna die, she’s gonna make the most of what she has right now.

The guy on the left let out a noise that sounded a lot like a laugh. Sasha smiled proudly and gave the alien a wink. It feels good to know someone appreciates your humor. They stepped back a bit, spooked. The queen’s face becomes more distorted but this time she was looking at the alien that laughed.

“You find this amusing? You are nothing but dust in the cosmos. You are nothing. Remember your place [species slur]!” she shouted at them. The poor guy bowed their head and uttered a silent acquiescence.

“HEY DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY THAT TO THEM YOU NIGHTMARE IN ELMS STREET LOOKING ASS!” Sasha shouted. NOBODY, FUCKING NOBODY FUCKS WITH THE ALIEN GUY. HE IS B A B Y.

Both aliens looked at her, one with a look of horrified admiration, and the other with pure contempt in her eyes. Nine of them. Creepy. Why’s it gotta be a fucking odd? Why fucking nine? It’s fucking gross. Eugh.

She was startled out of her disgust for the nine eyes by the sound of someone pressing in the code for her cell…presumably. The laser wall disappeared and the queen loomed ominously over her. She bolted as soon as she can. Narrowly dodging the disgusting snake alien thing that tried to strike her. She took the alien’s appendage and ran. Dragging them along with her to wherever the fuck.

“Why are you doing this human? I am not an ideal hostage, no one cares about me,” the alien said. Sasha’s heart broke with the way that they said it. As if it was something factual. No one should be made to feel like that. If she was gonna escape she’s gonna take this bean with her.

“You are not a hostage,” she said. Behind them the queen is screaming profanities at everyone and the soldiers are gaining on them. “You’re a friend, I can see that you hate it here. You’re as much of a prisoner as I am. We’re gonna get out of here, yeah?” she looked back and her alien friend nodded with a look of disbelief on their face.

“Why?”

“Because they don’t treat you right.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with you, besides, I will slow you down.”

“Of course it does! I made you laugh, you’re my friend now.”

“What exactly is a friend? You’ve mentioned it twice now.”

“You don’t know what friends are?!”

“I do not. I am sorry,”

“No! Don’t be! I wasn’t mad at you or anything.” She sighed, this is difficult. “A friend is someone that you like, someone you spend your time with. Someone that you can rely on. Someone who can rely on you.”

“…and I am your friend? How?”

“Like I said, you laughed at my joke.”

“That sounds superficial, especially compared to what you mentioned friendship entailed.”

“It doesn’t have to be really deep, does it? I like you because I do. Do you not want to be my friend?”

“It is not that I do not, it is that I do not understand why you would want to be mine.”

“I just do okay? You’re a great dude.”

She looked at the soldiers chasing after them.

“How many?” she asked the confused alien. “Few. There aren’t much.” She nodded and asked where they are as they ran for their lives. They yelled out directions and she followed as best as she could.

She ran faster than she ever has in her life. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her alien friend tried but they couldn’t keep up with her. They lagged behind but she wouldn’t leave them. She couldn’t.

They reminded her too much of herself.

So she stood. In front of him. Shielding him from the soldiers that had caught up with them. Her friend told her to run. To leave them. To save herself. She didn’t.

The first soldier engaged her and she punched him. Remembering all those self-defense lessons from tiktok. They were bipedal and has almost the same structure as humans so she assumed they have similar anatomy. Her assumption proved true when the alien she punched in the throat gasped and flailed for air. Her confidence renewed she jumped to the next alien. She tore through them, using everything she has on her arsenal. Her hands, fingers, nails, feet, her teeth, and everything else that she has.

They were fragile. They were easy to destroy. She has cuts all over her body but she cannot feel pain right now. Her friend is looking around at the carnage she has brought with fear in their eyes. All the fight left her body when they looked at her with fear. She moved forward to reassure them that everything was going to be okay but the queen arrived.

She was holding a gun of a sort and she was pointing it at Sasha. She ran straight for the queen, her teeth barred, screaming at the top of her lungs.

The queen expecting her to run was thrown off guard when she slammed against her. Sasha rained punches on her captor. Blindly smashing and hitting. The sound of pounding of flesh and bones crunching filled the air. She did not stop until two arms wrapped around her and restrained her.

“…okay, it’s gonna be okay. It’s alright, you’re alright. You’re safe.” It was a familiar voice. She didn’t know whose voice. She can feel the strength leaving her body. She hasn’t slept in two days.

“Alien… friend… safe..?” she asked, slowly losing her consciousness.

“Yes, your alien fiend is safe.” He sounds like he’s smiling.

#humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are insane #humans are deathworlders #humans are adorable #earth is a deathworld #earth is space australia #aliens #alien #alien friend #friendship #violence kinda #gen Z #i dont fucking know aymore

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years ago

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Day three of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was crow!

“Steve!”

Billy stands at the front window, watching outside but listening to socked feet bound down the stairs and skid across the floors. Steve answers his call, sounding out of breath and worried, “What is it, baby?”

His answer is simple, mumbled to the window from which his gaze doesn’t move more than to Steve, “Needed to know where you were.”

Craning his neck to look around him, Steve asks, “Why? You okay?”

“Look.” He parts the curtain further, room for Steve to stand beside him, and points to a small black bird perched atop their mailbox, far less horrific than many of the things they’ve seen, but to him just as unsettling. Steve doesn’t get it though, “It’s a crow?”

“Exactly.”

“Do.. you want me to scare it away?” Steve offers, stepping forward to the door, but Billy grabs his wrist first, for the first time since he noticed it tearing his eyes away from the ominous creature. “No! Don’t open the door.”

“Baby. You’re worryin’ me.”

Softened by Steve’s gentle tone, but undeterred from his feelings of dread and paranoia, though he won’t admit it, Billy explains, “Crows are bad news. You go out there and there’ll be bad luck.”

“I thought that was just if they flew over you.”

“Then it’s gotta be worse if he’s just sittin’ there watchin’ me. And anyways I don’t want ‘im cursin’ us or some shit just because we thought it was safe.”

Steve nods like he understands, but he doesn’t. Just watching Billy go through the motions while he stands in the center of the room and observes. But Billy can’t stand it, feels an itch under his skin. Looked at the crow too long and now he has to do something about it.

So he paces, circles three times around the coffee table. Wiggles his arms out like that’ll get the feeling of the birds eyes off of him. Billy doesn’t like the way Steve looks at him, not doubting, not like he’s crazy like some people do, but with so much concern behind those deep brown eyes. His voice comes out even gentler, “What are you doing now?”

“Just gotta do it. ‘Cause of the crow.” Is the best answer Billy can offer, focused on what’s going on in his head, but he’s just making things worse with Steve.

“Billy, baby, I am so confused here. Are you okay?”

Nodding, he gathers his thoughts enough to explain to Steve, “M’fine. S’just an compulsion. Been doin’ like this since I was like, 12. Least that’s when I got diagnosed.”

“Diagnosed? I dont- what do you mean?”

“I take pills for it every day. Must’ve missed ‘em last night actually. S’part of what I go therapy for too.” It’s not clicking for his boyfriend, so he says it bluntly, something he doesn’t admit very often, come to think of it, “I got OCD Steve.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that? Not that it like, matters I just.. that's pretty damn important, Bill.” Steve doesn’t sound hurt, maybe a little confused, but again with the endless concern for Billy. Reminds him of the reason he fell for Steve, but it never stops short of leaving him flustered.

With a short shrug of his shoulders, Billy responds, “I just thought you knew. Most people can tell, or at least they think they can, just from lookin’ at me. Such a big part of my life, I never thought to mention it.”

“As long as that’s all.” Billy nods assuredly, so Steve continues, the slightest hint of relief written on his face, “Okay, I just want you to open up to me.”

“Yeah. Definitely. We’re past that keepin’ secrets stuff.”

Maybe just to test the waters, or maybe because he really just was moving on from the conversation- something that still amazes Billy about Steve is his ability to switch from heavy topics like nothing happened -Steve takes another step towards the door, “Am I good to go out yet then?”

Again Billy denied, calmer than before but still feeling a tug in his chest, a twitch of his fingers reaching to part the curtains and assess for danger again, “Nope. Mr. Crow’s still out there. All that weird shit I do only makes me feel better. Won’t make the bad luck go away.”

“Guess that means we’re stuck in here together all day then.” Steve says, in a sort of faux disappointed way, a smile spreading across his face as he adds, “That’s not deliberate is it?”

“Nope. But I ain’t complainin’.”

“We’ll just have to find something better to do all day. Any ideas?”

Billy has one idea, that he can tell Steve has in mind as well from the knowing look they exchange, “Well, he can’t see us from the bedroom.”

Taking his hand away from the curtain, Steve hums, a distraction from his obsession no doubt as much as it is an acceptance of his implied offer, “Lead the way then, hot shot.”

#CherryLaneChallenge #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#Billy has ocd bc I said so #that’s like a hc I have about the canon time line but this obvi is not that #this is post Starcourt #this one’s pretty short

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ramblesofajester · 3 years ago

Text

whispers of a witch (chap1/?

this is just a self indulgent fic for me to write when I feel like shit and yes it will have nsfw

info: they/them, curvy body, glasses, anxiety.

The cool wind sweep past your cheek as you squat down, fingers numbing and turning blue from the constant foraging across the forest floor to fine the herbs you require, its late winter and you have just run out of several herbs you use quite frequently for personal use and when healing the villagers. of course as always there is a catch when you need to get something done. one, you where delivering a baby a good portion of the day, then doing your normal round with the villagers, so soon night is to fall, two the Lycians have been testing there luck with the village borders as of resent, three the only place those herbs are left growing are near Heisenberg's land due to you harvesting all the more accessible ones previously. and just to top it all of duke wouldn't be able to gather a shipment until the next new moon, that being two weeks away so here you are right before dusk cut plants with frozen fingers outside of a missive chain-link fence in the middle of the woods. Gazing around, you are in a small clearing, the village is about a mile, mile and a half to the south west of here. the factory's smoke stacks just visible over the tree line. Sighing you focus on the task at hand, slowly griping the base of the plant you say thanks to the earth and pull it up root and all, listening to the birds as there song slowly drifted thru the trees. standing up you, make your way over to the next bushel of plants emerging from the thin coat of snow. suddenly all the brides stop singing setting off of several alarms in your brain knowing its wasn't you who disturbed them wiping around, franticly looking you hear and see movement all around you just out of sight in the brush you cant tell what it is. assuming it to be Lycians or and angry bear or even a stray ghoul from the castle grounds. garbing the dagger from your boot you crouch down to an defensive position slowly making your way toward the path you came from. as you take a step back slowly a few Lycian emerge from the tree line teeth bared eyes holding a burning hunger. a soft gasp leaves your lips if there are this many you know more are soon to follow

"well shit, I couldn't just go and have an easy day now could I?" you ask the Lycians sarcastically not really expecting a reply. a deep chuckle caught you off guard and in your shock you hear the swift shifting of metal. the feeling of cold steel on your ankle stealing your attention from the fast change of gravity as you are hoisted into the air, dangling like a prized fish. attempting to regain your bearings. you look around seeing the Lycian pack now completely surrounding you.

"well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," standing clear in the path arm outstretched to hold the chain around you feet taking a step further with every word.

"a lost little bunny, who is hoping around where they should not be..." he says in a little tune with mirth in his step. finally stopping right in front of you raising you so your face is level with his shoulders you reach out attempting to swipe at him with you dagger, as soon as you weapon is revealed is ripped from your grasp and now spinning around you and the lord. a large gloved hand grips your face forcing you to look at lord Heisenberg.

"now I cant tell if that was stupidity, or bravery little bunny but I'm guessing you dont know who I am." he speaks with amusement as he examines your face and, forces you to look at him. you stop squirming long enough to stare at the round shades perched on his nose. this being the first time you have seen the lord this close ,its usually only in passing or from the shadows as to not be noticed, but now you have to admit the stubble and scars, the cocky smile, the smell of oil, pine, smoke, and Tabaco is actually not that bad.

"No I know who you are, just really dont care cause I'm a little busy" you immediately wiggle from his grasp and start reaching for the chain around your ankles. a boisterous laughter is released from behind you and suddenly your falling about a meter, back connecting with the ground a large "oof" emanating from you. Rushing to get the chain from around you ankles it fly from your hands. jumping to your feet you face Heisenberg head held high

"oh... you do know me, so it must be stupidity, that must explain why your on my land as well" Heisenberg ponders aloud." so you must either be lost or have a death wish" he says with a chuckle

"nope not lost, just need some of the herbs here and if you live in this village and haven't runaway or offed yourself you have a death wish" you reply flatly brushing the dirt of of yourself as you stand to gather your things. "now" you say turning back to him "my dragger if you'd please" extending you hand cautiously with and expectants look.

"wow, you've got some balls on you" puffing on his cigar "you better watch that attituded bunny" you are suddenly painfully aware of the small pack of hunger Lycian circling you both "and remember who the man in control is" hand still outstretched you snap back with

"listen hear 'lord Heisenbitch' I am sorry for trespassing on you land but I need 7 different herbs and at least 5oz of each, I need them before tomorrow evening, some of them for mother Miranda, as well as a women who just gave birth in the village. Now unless you wish to explain to Miranda why her healer is missing, and her people dead due to illnesses I would like my dagger back and you and your fine fuzzy companions to kindly fuck of." you knew your words where dangerous but at this point in the evening you really didn't give a fling fuck and the shock on Heisenberg's face when he recognizes you almost made it worth it.

"Wait your Miranda's prized witch, oh man this is great, how have you lasted so long, your so small bunny" this just pissed you off more you want your dagger back but he's just so infuriating. your dont have time for this

"Fine, just keep the dagger" you say shoving past him. Growling at the Lycians blocking the path they stay there ground and growl back, only to glance behind you whimper, and slowly back away clearing the path. A chain roughly wraps around you waist spinning you around and pulling you flush against Heisenberg before returning to his trench coat pocket. blowing his smoke in your face he drawls

"wow wow wow, slow you roll peter cotton tail I ain't being stingy, I just wanna talk a little" as he says this he wraps his arm around you waist slipping your dagger back into its sheath leaving his hand to rest on the dip of your hip, the other griping your chin forcing you to look up at him

"Let. Me. Go!" you hiss out never braking your gaze of his glasses

"now what would Miranda think of this, her pet of the leash, not respecting or listening to your lord" he teases not lessening his grip at all

"I dont give a scraggly rats ass, just let me go you bastard!" you spit at him, resaving a chuckle as a reply .

"ohhh I like you bunny, you've got fight not a lot of that left hear any more. but I need something from you darling, so we are gonna take a little walk back to your place, your gonna help me, then ill help you with your little situation how does that sound there bunny?" spinning you around arm still securely on your waist, he starts to walk still puffing on his cigar, quickly you realize you have no choice in the matter. the Lycians slow start to follow you keeping there distance at about 3 meters back this continues for a wile and it might have even been pleasant having company for once on the walk, you if you ignore the hungry Lycians and the fear Heisenberg will get angry or be done with his little game. slowly the forest edge and the village come in to the distances well as a small well worn foot path leading into a thick pine forest near the base of the Benevento valley

"so bunny, which way is it" Heisenberg ask moving his arm up to rest on your shoulders using the other to jester at the path ways.

"This way" you mumble out, gesturing to the pine foot path. now moving forward on you own accord tiered of being user around like a lost child. you dont make it very far seeing as soon as you start to move away he tightens his grip

"ohh come on bunny, no need to get cold feet. your getting something good out of this too, you just chill a little there thumper" he says smirk never leaving his face.

"well it sure as hell dont feel like it, this feels more like a kidnaping only we are headed to my own dwelling" you watch as the pine trees grow thicker with every passing second drawing closer to your burrow. soon a large moon gate covered in rosemary and lavender comes into a view just beyond it several greenhouses small and large soft light emanating from a few

"Now hold up thumper if you have all of these, what were you doing traipsing around by my factory? you weren't trying to get my attention were you?" he jabs at you obviously trying to get a rise out of you.

"What I was looking for I do not grow because it is local and I had a store of some, but it a since been exhausted, lots of sick ones this season." you replied tiredly seeing as dusk has passed a wile ago and you had been called out well before day brake. now you where just too tired to deal with his shenanigans. continuing forward you approach the door and tap the center of the door with the old iron key handing from your neck three times then you insert it into the keyhole and twist it three times to the right and it slowly creeks open. rushing forwards in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you you start to tend to the fire stroking the coals and adding a few logs. while your bussing your self Heisenberg makes himself at home pulling out a chair and throwing his feet on top of the table and popping a new cigar between his lips . Turning to grab your tea pot you see this unfold waltzing over to him and slapping his feet of the table

"That is mahogany" as you say this he goes to protest " no 'lord' Heisenberg you in my domain now no feet on the table" you snatch the cigar from between his lip and toss it into the fireplace "and no smoking in the main room."

"alright, alright," he says holding his arms in the air "one you could have just put it out and handed it back thumper, and second of all watch who your talking to darlin" to this you quickly respond with

"Still dont care" he gives you grunt as a response

"third of all I still have yet to disclose the nature of my visit I need you to look at something for me" and with that he stands up his chest now centimeters from your nose he reaches for his hat and sunglasses setting them on the table, tossing his trench coat on to the chair. your face quickly turning a shade of red dark enough to rival the radishes out in garden as you realize just what he is doing. pulling of his shirt with a wince. Holding his shirt in his hands, you try not to make your gaze obvious, he slowly turns to reveal a large, deep laceration very poorly bandages and clearly in the throes of a terrible infection. you immediately push all other thoughts aside concern taking its place, you recognized this wound, you where present when he resaved it .

flashback

"you stupid man child, you know nothing you should just leave the talking to the adults like a good little boy"

"shut your dame hole you bitch"

they have been going at it for 37 minutes and counting Alcina said something Karl disagrees and so the back and forth begins about 5 minutes ago Karl brought out his hammer and been waving it out in the open. tensions have been rising and your a little worried it is about to get violent. Anggie who had been watching the argument from you lap starts to vibrate with joy sensing the approaching violence.

"ooooooooohhh its aaboutttttt tooo get goooooodddddd!!!" she sings while hoping off your lap to sit closer on donnas lap seeing as you are perched by the back wall behind Miranda. and just as you both had predicted disaster struck.

"you insolent fool." Alcina suddenly cry's, swiping her hand forward as Karl turns his back to her slashing from shoulder to hip. you immediately rush forward, only to be stopped by mother Miranda holding her arm in your path.

"ENOUGH, stop the foolishness NOW!" Miranda's voice ringing out clear through the entire hall "Heisenberg my son, stand," she demands. he slowly makes his way to his feet now facing mother Miranda "your actions have been stupid and reckless as punishment, I shall leave you with this burden to care for. maybe it will teach you how much effort it takes heal rather than destroy. and what if feels like to live with ones mistakes." you hand covers your mouth as you bite your tongue. you may not like Karl that much but he still is not as bad as they say.

end scene

"BY THE GODS, how has this not healed yet!? have you been rubbing dirt in it? I knew this was a stupid lesson. I knew I should have gone against that two faced, false goddess, pretensive ass, bitch and marched my happy ass to that factor. THAT WAS TWO WEEKS AGO, this should have been gone ages ago!!!" you shout while carefully examining the laceration. quickly you pull out the char he was previously siting on out, so he could sit on it with his back to the fire and lean on the back of the chair. grabbing Heisenberg's shoulders you gently shove him into the chair. rushing around you grab several herbs hanging from the ceiling in bundles. then over to the counter you produce a mortar and pestle along with several oils and extracts

"woooow, thumper slow down, slow down," he chides calmly garbing your shoulders, your arms still packed full of items. slowly he starts to set the items on the table. "now I didn't rub dirt in it, but there might be some oil, its not healed because I have no idea how to treat a wound this large. and what's this about Miranda being a bitch and ignoring orders?" as he says this you realized just how bad you have fucked up.

"OH MY GODS, I didn't mean a word of it lord Heisenberg I meant no disrespect please I am so sorry dont tell mother Miran-" you franticly bow keeping your eyes to the floor hoping he would ether spare you make you death quick. while he clearly doesn't like Miranda or her family he was still a part of it.

"hay hay hay thumper calm down your alright. I'm not gonna go all psycho on you, and your secret is safe with me, your not the only one with unsavory views on that bitch Miranda." your slowly look up at him in shock it is widely know that he disagree with the other lords but this is a first. you gingerly make your way over to the table and start to mix together several herbs and flowers. "and thumper just call me Karl" he says with a flirtatious grin, you blush but grinding the herbs into a powder

"only if you stop calling me thumper." slowly adding some drops of oils to the mixture making a thick green salve.

"well I gotta have something to call you bunny" he say grin stretching across his face as you blush even more now

"well my name is (Y/N) ok, now stop" you say while puffing up you cheek in a pout. rushing behind him so he can no longer see your face and you can apply the salve" this is going to sting" not give him tome to proses any thing you said you rip off the bandages and start to carefully apply the salve. a shout bubbles up in his throat the second the salve touches his shoulder

"SON OF A Bitch..." he snarls" maybe a little more warning next time y/n" as soon as he growls out your name you short circuit you hand no simply resting next to his wound "y/n... y/n" he waits a couple of seconds before trying again. "y/n!" jumping a little you come back to reality " you all good back there" Karl questions

"almost done just need to finish this up, then I will apply bandages, and all you need to do is rest for a day or two" as you Finnish saying this you reach for he bandages and gently begin to properly wrap the wound "this is how you properly wrap a wound Karl" you make sure to say first his name. "go all the way around and over and around the shoulder" slowly and carefully placing the bandages showing him the movements and positions. you move around to the front of lightly wrapping his shoulder "dont go to tight when bandaging joints, it increases mobility but not lose enough to move" as you speak solely focused on you task at hand you dont see Karl staring at your face, a look of adoration on his face which he is quick to drop once you turn to him. gently patting his shoulder "now all you need is a lot of rest and a hot meal" smiling you slowly make your way over to the fire removing the teapot and hanging a medium sized cauldron over the fire. turning kettle in hand you see Karl putting on his hat and going to pull his coat on having already put his shirt on

"well thumper its been wonderful but I have to get back to my-" you cut him off taking his coat and hanging it by the door.

"oh no you don't, you need rest and real food, and not to make any assumptions but I doubt you'll get any of those in your factory" as you say this you put the chair back in its normal position swiftly going to a small spare room on the side. grabbing a thick blanket you walk to the table, and drape it over the back of the chair. patting it flat you open your arms and jester to the chair "now please have a seat food will be done shortly" you say with a smile as he just stand there slack jawed at you attempting to boss him around. slowly he take a seat and just watches as you prepare a cup of tea for you both "hear this should help with the pain" you say handing him a large mug that still looked too small in his hand. you turn and head back to the counter and start dicing us vegetables and some fish to put the cauldron.

"thank you" he mumbles quietly watching you dance about the kitchen a soft smile on his face. "so what's your story? you obviously dont like Miranda so why stay and be her little pet healer on her beck and call." Karl jests wanting to know more about you now that he has the chance with out his stupid family there

"well a long time ago I has someone I had to look out for, they needed help I could not provide it, Miranda could. So I made a deal, help her, and ill do as wish. So I comply to keep her safe and happy, if it went for her, I would have sent that false deity to her flaming grave decades ago." you finished cutting the veggies and meat depositing it in the pot, you make your way opposite of Karl at the table and take a seat. slowly sipping your tea. "now I just tend to the villagers for Miranda and visit my belladonna"

"wait who is belladonna" he askes a look of confusion overtaking his features

"my apologies, I mean donna, before Miranda adopted her and gave her her gift she was a sad and lonely child with parents too ill to save, so after her parents passing, I watched over her and loved her as my own" you say a soft smile on your face looking around the room I was the only one she let touch Anggie, she was such a kind child asking so many questions behind closed doors and always eager to learn new skills" you reminisce the old days setting your now empty cup on the table. "but now she's grown and well, and happy, so that is all that matters" you say curtly standing and heading over the the bubbling pot of stew and giving it a stir.

"so wait your telling me you the witch who raised Benevento," Karl spouts astonishment clear in his voice. "One how are you not dead yet? Two that's why you spend so much time in that spooky ass house, and three how come you aren't an old hag you dont look a day over 25?" even in shock this man some how still manages to throw in a flirt. you give a small chuckle.

"well when I struck my deal with Miranda," you make you way over to a tall cabinet and withdraw two wooden bowls and a large ladle ." donna was just become a young adult, so she new what excepting Miranda's gift would entitle, including the prolonged life." returning to the stew and scooping a hefty serving into Karl's bowl and only filling your half way. "after her parents suicided she couldn't handle the loss another parental figure, her words not mine, she refused the treatment unless Miranda changed me as well." hanging the ladle on the wall and carefully turning back to Karl and making your way to him. "I had already had my go at life and helped as many as I could so I agreed not expecting to come out alive," you say calmly sitting down in the seat acres from Karl. "unfortunately my will was to strong so hear I am now, a fail experiment serving out my end of the deal" you give a sarcastic smile and do a little jazz hands as your story comes to a close. Karl is still for moment then burst into a deep laughter, but still alarmed at your willingness to except death.

"I'm sorry bunny I dont mean to be insensitive," he attempts to suppress his chuckles. "you are really the one that raised donna?"

"yes I am I know its a little hard to believe, but yes." you say solemnly feeling a little weird everyone who knew you too be donnas nanny have long since passed.

"no no no, there ain't nothing wrong with that darlin! In fact you did fucking awesome, out of all of us monsters she has the best manners and turned out the best." he says in a panicked tone, afraid he has said something wrong.

"Karl none of you are monsters, and your ok you didn't say anything wrong" you say quickly adding " none of you are monsters! you and the other were forced into the experiments, unlike donna and I. your only a monster when you subject an enter village to a false religion just to slaughter them for her experiments under the name of a sick false family she has not love for!" you say venom and hate for that hag dripping from each word. a stern but caring look on your face as you look rights in his eyes as you say this "you aren't a monster. you where a kid with out a choice, and now you are a man surviving and your doing amazing in your situation." you cautiously grab his hand resting in the table " you are not a monster no mater who has told you that including your self" He pulls back lightly but does not remove your hand from his., allowing you to rub his knuckles.

"but I-" he starts but you dont let him continue

"nope you cant convince me other wise, I'm the village crazy witch I am all knowing and wise." you say in a cherry tone, garbing his hand with both of yours. using one to tap out a small tune on the back of his hand. that nice deep laughter made an appearance again you have to admit its nice to hear him laugh instead of ague with everyone.

"well dame bunny, can't argue with that logic now can I " A large toothy grin takes over his face little crinkles show at the corners of his eyes. shaking his head he gives a chuckle then picks up the bowl of stew and finishing what was left in the bowl in a few gulps. setting the bowl down he asks "shit that hit the spot, can I just take you home with me and have you cook for me every night that some dame good stew" he jokes. laughing a little you finish your bowl, garbing his you stand and bring them to a bucket at the end of the sink.

"no I cant come home with you every day" rinsing the plates before setting them in the bucket you continue. "but you can come over when ever the lantern on the porch is light, if its not I am either in the village with a patient, or visiting donna or Miranda, or foraging. I am a busy witch Karl, just a warning." he chuckles

"ill make a note of that expect me often that shits good." he says pointing at the pot hanging over the small flames.

"well in that case ill put some in jars so you can take it with you when you leave tomorrow" you say off handedly while making your way over to the pot fishing the leftovers out, and putting it in two large mason jars. out of the corner of your eye you see him deflate a little when you when you mention his departure tomorrow. moving over to a wall of cupboard you store the two jars "to night you can take my bed or the cot in the guest room, though I dont know if you'll fit" you say walking over to said door and opening it reveling a small room with a vanity in the back left corner to the left of the door was a small sink and counter with a basin next to it. opposite to that was a small cabinet and in the back right corner a small wooden cot about half the side of the man now standing directly behind you in the doorway. so close, when he took a deep breath you could feel his shirt brush your, and his warm breath fans across your neck. now with bright red face you make you hastily make you way to the cabinet to the right of the door and start to grab a large quilt and a pillow or two. Karl enters the room looking around taking in the new environment and casually making his way over to the cot and taking a seat. you head over to him staring at the blanket hoping that he would not see your face

"thank you, y/n you really could've just sent my packing I really appreciate it I do" he says with a soft smile resting on his scared face, 'it suites him,' you think to your self 'he should smile more.'

"well hear you go this should be think enough it gets pretty chilly in hear and I haven't fixed the heater yet so if you need more there are some in the cabinet you say gesturing to the cabinet with your head. holding the blanket and pillow out for him to take he reaches hands grazing against yours as he takes them from your hands pulling them closer"

"thanks bunny I re-" he is abruptly cut short by a sharp wine of wood under duress followed quickly by a loud snap of the cot braking a the loud thud of Karl's ass hitting the floor. "OH FUCK" Karl was now the one looking up at you. slapping a hand over your mouth to suppress the laughter about to burst from you.

"OH by the gods, are you ok" you say still trying to hold back the onslaught of giggles offering a hand for him to take

"so this is what the weather is like down here" he says jokingly as you hoist him off the ground carful of his shoulder and back. gently slapping his chest

"I'm only a little shorter than you, ya know" you say "but in light of me needing to purchase a new cot from duke, I guess you'll be sleeping in my bed tonight." he gives you a flirty look

"dame thumper if you wanted me in your bed that bad all you had to do was ask not buries my ass first" he says with a deep chuckle.

"I am not tying to get you in my bed" you say panicked face exploding with red. "I wont even be in it with you, and secondly it wasn't that far of a drop so the only thing damage was you ego and my cot obviously. now come follow me please." you say now attempting to lead him out of the room. Karl looks at you as if he was trying to figure something but soon trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you lead him through the main room down a hallway with three doors heading to the furthest down you push open the heavy wooden door. letting Karl enter first you make your way to the bed garbing your favorite pillow and a thick blanket off the bed spread "well she's all yours" you say jokingly waving your arm over the bed as a invitation dont lay on your back or shoulder" you say making your way back to the door arms now full "sleep well." and with at you turn to leave only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

"wait if I'm sleeping here and I just demolished your spare bed where will you be sleeping" he ask concern lacing his voice a he turn you around to face him

"well ill go clean up the old cot and then ill just use some spare blankets as a mattress for the night." you say with out a second thought.

"no no no, I will not let you do that you have done enough for me. I'll just go back to my factory and be out of your hair." your face scrunches up.

"you say that as if I am annoyed by you, but I can assure you, you do not annoy me. next I wont let you leave this hut you need to rest and I need to change those bandages as soon as you wake." you say no room for argument evident in your voice. "and if you have such an issue using my bed but I apologies its the only one, and I wont let you sleep on the floor with that wound." you with finality.

"then I guess well just have too share it. cues I will just jump through a window to go back home" he say with a laugh. you have no idea if he was joking or not. still, gazing up at his face the smirk remained "so" he asks "which will it be will you join me or and I gonna have to practice my long distance sprint." you sigh growing tired with every passing second your long day finally catching up too you. no longer having any energy to argue.

"fine" you huff out walking over to the bed where Karl was I like the right side" climbing in you take a body pillow from the back of the bed putting it in the middle " you better stay on your half of the bed old man" you say climbing back down from the bed and heading a dresser under a large window. you produce a pair of sleep thin pants and a large think white long sleeved shirt. "I need to change so ether steep out or just dont look." to tired to care at this point you look over your shoulder and see him turned away from you sitting on the left side of the bed. replacing your dirty clothe with fresh sleep pants and a oversized top. garbing a spare pair of large sleep pants and shirt before making your way back to the bed, flopping onto it comically ,while tossing the change of clothing on his side of the bed "hear you go, this should fit" he looks down at the articles of clothing.

"well thank you bunny," undoing his belt and changing his pant, completely ignoring the new shirt. "but uhhh I dont think that shirt is gonna work though" he says smirk evident in his voice.

"and why would that be-" you ask confusion clear on you face as you roll over to face him without thinking. face exploding in color as you freeze up, now staring at his bare chest brain loosing any train of thought.

"my eyes are up hear now bunny," he says with a deep chuckle "but please dont let me interrupt your staring. as for why I never sleep with one its confining" smirk never leaving his face, as he lays down on his half of the mattress. quickly you roll over

"I wasn't staring, I zoned out. Just toss the shirt on to the top of the dresser" he gives another chuckle but says nothing. pulling the thick comforter up to you chin due to the chill, reaching over you turn the knob on the lantern smothering the flame. "good night Karl sleep well" you say without a second thought closing your eyes slowly, reality fading out as you hear Karl

"goodnight thumper sleep well" a gentleness to his tone that sends the rest of the way to sleep.

word count: 5884

ps: please forgive my horrid grammar

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil #res 8 #res evil #donna beneviento #re8 angie #re8 donna #re8 karl heisenberg

53 notes · View notes

winter-fox-queen · 4 years ago

Text

I only have my self to blame...

Frankie Morales x you fic

Tags: A lot of cursing. So much cursing. Drug use. Angst.

Summary: I kept thinking about the coke rap they mention in the story. And I thought, what if Frankie was innocent? So most of this is about that, with a tense change so that when the reader enters the picture, it’s “you” -- no y/n.

I have never written a fic before. I am no nervous AT ALL. But I wanted to give something back, even though it’s not really romantic. I logged into my laptop so I could use cuts. XD I am ashamed at how long it took me to remember my password.

2,083 words.

It was, really, a bullshit coke rap, but it was still Frankie’s fault. He was flying one of the boss’s nicer planes, a pretty little Cessna Caravan, fitted out for luxury in the back, a curtain separating the pilot from the main cabin. The curtain was partly folded back, so the rich folks in the cabin behind him with their booze, lounging in their leather seats don’t have to stare at the back of Frankie’s tousled, ball cap covered head.

It also meant that he could hear what they were saying, the headset over one ear was quiet, but he’d already decided they were a bag of dicks and he wasn’t going to pay attention to them, as they laughed like a bunch of frat boys behind him. There was a mirror, angled so he could see what was going on, and once in awhile he’d look. There were five men and one woman, the men acting like a bunch of frat boys, the woman trying to pretend she was amused.

Frankie knew, of course, that the trouble was men like that made that secret chip on his shoulder come out. The one he tried to ignore. Because I’m better than that, right? They ain’t got nothing that I want. But they did. They didn’t have to worry about money…they didn’t have a new baby to worry about, they didn’t have to play the game of if-I-pay-this-bill-I-can-pretend-I-didn’t-get-that-one. He was tired, worried about his lady, scared that he was going to fucking fail her, fail their little girl, Luna.

He let out a long, pent up sigh. He itched to put on some music, was considering it when the shuffle of curtain fabric told him he was no longer alone.

The sole woman from the back gave him a shy smile. “Do you mind? They’re acting like idiots back there.” She had a stylish, blunt cut, a white button shirt and a short, black skirt. Everything was fitted perfectly so the clothes molded against her. It looked polished rather than cheap. He smiled politely and shrugged as she arranged herself gracefully into the copilot chair.

“So, you said your name was Frankie?” She reached out with a foot and nudged his chair. She’d shed her high heels, and, despite the shortness of her skirt was gathering her legs under her.

Lady, you might as well have a danger sign around your neck. He nodded, feeling a little out of his depth.

“Macey. Pleasure to meet you. You been a pilot long?”

He nodded.

“You don’t speak much, do you?” She was flirty enough that even he, usually captain obvious, caught on.

He gave her a sidelong look. “I’m trying to figure out how to slip the face I have a wife and kid into the conversation.” Wife was a stretch. He wanted to marry you, he dreamed about it. He wanted to give you everything – a nice ring, a pretty dress. A day to be a be special, to feel loved. Proof to all your friends and family that he could take care of you, that he was worthy. He was scraping up money, setting it aside. If he didn’t go for a diamond, maybe he could get her something else nice. Maybe an opal. Opal rings couldn’t be that expensive, right?

She laughed. “Sorry. I’m bored.” She held up a hand. “Scout’s honor, I will do nothing to hurt your marriage.”

He gave her a grin. “Well, then, tell me a story.”

“A story?”

“Yeah. Once we touch down in…” He looked at the time “About two hours, we won’t see each other again. So tell me a story. Something you’ve always wanted to tell someone, but you couldn’t.”

She arched an eyebrow provocatively.

“Not like that, not a secret. Just a story you want to tell. Can be anything, I don’t care.”

She looked bemused for a second. Then she starts, haltingly, as if she’s never had t actually make real conversation. As if she’s never had anyone to listen to her. And the thing is, she’s funny. Clever. He finds himself laughing as he does his thing, even throwing back a couple of smart remarks of his own. She has a gift of making him feel like he has a wicked sense of humor, and for a little bit, the cares he’s been harboring fall silent.

So does the cabin behind him, once. He has a mirror, set low, so he can see behind him. The ringleader of the group is glaring at him, not looking too happy.

Well, fuck him. What can he do?

A lot, apparently.

They land, and Macey gets up to go out the back. “Thanks, Frankie. Good luck with everything.”

“You, too, thanks for passing the time with me,” he says, and sets about the tasks. He checks gauges, writes things down, and finally, goes back and checks over the cabin. He gets out a basin from a cabinet and puts the used rocks glasses in it. He won’t wash them – he’ll just dump the basin on the sideboard inside the hanger. He doesn’t have to do the cleaning, but Allie, the janitor who usually cleaned up the planes, had hurt her back and everything, like picking up candy bar wrappers and throwing them away, checking the seats to see if anything had been left behind was an extra chore she did not need.

The plastic baggy was almost invisible against the beige leather of the seats. He picked it up, made a shocked little huff, like he’d put his hand on a snake. Coke. A pretty good amount of it, too. The old craving raised its head, making his hand shake a little. He heard voices, and shoved the baggy in his pocket. I’ll pitch it. He had to take a leak, anyway, he’d go, flush that garbage down the toilet, and there. Done. He wasn’t that man any more. It was the one thing he could do for you.

He grabbed the waste basket and put it next to the door, grabbed the tub of glasses and put it under his arm.

“Frankie? You in there?”

“Yeah, boss…coming.” Snagging the clipboard to put on top of the glasses so he’d have a free hand if he needed it, he went down the steps and onto the tarmac.

Hector stood there, hands in his pockets, looking ore hang dog than usual. “Yeah, boss?”

“The passengers said you were flying high, Frankie.”

That stopped him dead, like to concussion from a bomb, hitting his face and chest and taking out the air in his lungs. “What? No, I’d never…”

“They said that they saw you – just before take off. And you know, I don’t want to believe it, but looking at your eyes…they do look awful red.”

“I’ve been up late with Luna. She’s not been sleeping that great, and I can’t leave it all on…”

Hector nodded, as if he believed him, but Frankie had a feeling he didn’t. He’d give real money to know exactly what the fuck had been said. “Turn out your pockets, Frankie.”

You jackass. He attacked himself. Did you really think they just accidentally left that much coke behind? You fucking jackass. “I found some shit they left behind, but you gotta believe me, Hector, I am clean. I’ve been clean for a couple years now.”

“Just show me your pockets, son, then we can just leave this behind.”

He took the coke out. “I told you, I found it on the plane.”

Hector shook his head, and started to walk away.

“Look, I’ll take a test.” He jogged a little, caught the other man’s arm. “Seriously. You can watch to make sure I’m not cheating. You’ll see. I’m clean. I’ll take a drug test right now.”

“You just happened to find a baggy of coke? That the passengers happened to leave behind? And why would they accuse you, if it’s not true?”

Frankie dropped his hand. I guess you wouldn’t believe me if I said some asshole thought I was flirting with his girl and thought he’d get back at me…hell, I’m not sure I believe it.

“I’ll be reporting you. They’ll suspend you. Maybe they will go easy on you, you being a Vet and this being your first offense…but you need to clean out your locker. I’ll write a check for what we owe you.”

“I…I need this job.” He could hear an edge of pleading in his voice, and he hated it, but he’d go down on his fucking knees and beg if he had to.

Hector’s eyes hardened. “And I don’t need to send a druggie up in one of my planes.”

Frankie took the back roads home. There was an old farm gate, a place where he could pull off the road and stare, blindly, at overgrown fields.

“What am I gonna do?” He whispered, over and over, like a mantra. “What am I gonna fucking do?” His hands clutched the steering wheel, knuckles white. He could barely breathe, and when the words wouldn’t come he just sat there, panting, beating his head against the steering when and wondering how he’d survive this.

When his breathing steadied, he got back on the road, and went home. It was the only thing he could do.

You knew something was wrong, he could see it, but he wasn’t being exactly subtle, pressing his spine against the doorframe like he was ready to run.

“Hey baby,” you say, and he smiles a little. Tries, anyway.

“Where’s Luna?” He’s surprised how hoarse his voice is. He shouldn’t be. He’d been in some bad situations, but he’d never felt this a drift, this terrified.

“Laying down.” You say it sweetly, like everything is OK. You’re cooking bread in the over, something’s in the crock pot and everything smells like home and like everything left to lose.

You lean against the sink. If you reached out, you could almost touch him, but you don’t. There’s a look in your eyes, like Frankie is a wild animal, easily spooked and so you’re going to move slow and careful.

“I lost my job.” He says it so quietly he’s not sure you heard, until your shoulders drop a little.

“Oh, honey, what happened?” No recrimination. Not yet. You take a step closer to him.

So he tells you. He doesn’t lie, just lays it all out there. Not looking at you, not daring to, instead staring at the refrigerator door and all the magnets and photos and clutter. But seeing them, either.

“He didn’t believe you?” You practically shriek it out. “What the fuck…you’ve been an awesome employee for what? A year and a half now and he wouldn’t even let you take a damned test to let you prove yourself? Seriously? I’m going to kick his ass…”

The baby monitor interrupts her, Luna making fitful little noises. After all, the house was not that big. You hold a finger up to Frankie. “Hold that thought.” You leave the kitchen, shaking your head, and Frankie stands there, feeling like he’s on the edge of the precipice.

“Ah, Luna, baby, what’s wrong?” He can hear you, a much gentler, sweeter voice echoing out of the monitor. He stands over it, hands clutching the counter on either side of it, listening. You are both everything to him. Everything.

He listens to you say nonsense as you change the little baby, to you muttering about how such a tiny, adorable thing can smell so bad. “You must get it from your daddy,” you say a little louder, as if you know Frankie is there, listening, and he grins a little.

He doesn’t move, when you come back out into the kitchen, when you wrap your arms around him. You hug him tight and he starts to feel a little less adrift.

He turns, looks down into your eyes. “You believe me?” Puts his arms around you carefully, like he’s still not sure of his reception, because he still doesn’t feel like he deserves this, the right to touch you.

You reach up and cradle his cheek. “Always, mi vida. Always.” And he starts shaking, and he starts crying and he buries his face in your neck so you can’t see, and you toss aside the ball cap so you can stroke his hair. “It’s going to be alright, honey. We’ll figure it out. Its going to be alright.”

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #fix it fic #pedro pascal #our soft boi is innocent #mostly

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imagines-mha · 4 years ago

Text

League of villains and the type of s/o they need

Characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Twice, Toga, Spinner, Compress, Kurogiri

➟ Did someone say patient??

➟ Before you guys date, be prepared for a LONG, SLOW, AGONISING wait

➟ He’ll push you away 93817 times before even letting you know his favourite colour smh

➟ You'll have to be thick-skinned. He has a tendency of saying things he doesn’t mean to test your ability to put up with him

➟ It wouldn’t be surprising if he tried his best to turn you off him cus he doesn’t believe he deserves ur love :(

➟ Affection is key, but in small doses

➟ When you’re alone and he’s being vulnerable- don’t treat him like he’s weird. Don’t even point it out, just let it happen and he’ll love you forever cus it takes a LOT for him to put down his guard

➟ Run your fingers through his hair, lace your pinky with his- cliché little reminders of your love. Remember how utterly touch-starved he is- the tiniest touches mean everything

➟ Having a motherly nature would be helpful. He forgets to shower, eat, drink water, function, and he’ll really appreciate your gentle reminders as opposed to kurogiri’s nagging ones

➟ Also- he’s a tantrum child with both mommy and daddy issues. You’re gonna need to be there for him when he gets out of hand

➟ Someone like his mother would be ideal for him: soft, understanding, gentle, caring

➢ Yeah ur gonna have to be able to throw a few punches when the time comes

➢ He’s gonna run ur ass deep into the ground with his hard-hitting comments and straight-up insults. And he’ll probably pick a fight with you just to see how your body moves 🙄

➢ He doesn’t rlly mean what he says. He just finds it hot when you get mad

➢ If you’re good at arguing then dam 😳😳 he’s gonna be SHOOK

➢ You gotta like to tease, and like to be teased. He’ll pull your hair while he walks past you, you’ll shove him into the door when he’s not on guard. Simple things, yaknow?

➢ Enemies to lovers; slow burn; 500k

➢ He’s a secret glutton for your touch tho. Has no issue with grabbing your ass in public or dragging you into his room to fuck you whenever he wants. Be spontaneous 🧚🏻‍♀️✨

➢ POSSESSIVE DOE 😳

➢ If he sees you being too friendly with one of the members the league, then good luck bro cus his punishments HURT LIKE A BITCH

➢ Remind him he’s the only one you want- the only one you have eyes for. Then he’ll be satisfied

➟ please give him your heart. All of it.

➟ He’ll nourish it and water it and care for it like he’s never done with anything else before

➟ Boy has got so much love to give and he wants to give it ALL to you

➟ Someone spontaneous would suit him well. He’s excitable, and operates on a lot of last minute decisions. If you’re regulated with schedules and times, he’s not the guy for you

➟ You gotta be versatile. Able to take high ass doses of energy one second and snarky comments the next

➟ Also thick-skinned. If he splits and calls you a bitch, he doesn’t mean it. It hurts but you gotta understand it- plus he’ll make up for it with thousands of apologies afterwards

➟ Someone who can take a LOT of affection and PDA. If he’s in the same room as you, you can bet your ass he’s gonna be HOLLERING about how much he loves you. His hands will NEVER stop touching you when you’re together in public

➟ He’s so soft. Listen to him bro. Like hear his struggles and trace your fingers over his scars and tell him all he means to you

➟ He’s a baby when it comes to comfort man he just wants someone to hold him

➢ Oh my god DUDE you have got to have SO MUCH SKILL

➢ She’s a problem child at best. If you ain’t gonna at least guide her in the direction of right and wrong, you and your family might end up dead

➢ Just a reminder of her love

➢ Sometimes you gotta talk to her like she’s a child to make her understand. Her moral compass was blown to bits years ago- she’s gonna need someone firm

➢ But also someone who can handle her extent

➢ She’s very forward- and she’ll probably try to take your blood more than you’d probably want her to

➢ But once you tame her, she’s a cutie

➢ Talks a lot calmer with you- and seems a hell of a lot more human than before

➢ She’s really good at listening to you, and even better at taking you into her arms and treating you like you’re the most important thing in the entire world

➢ because to her, u are 🥺

➢ When she chills out, falling in love with her is as easy as pie

➟ Someone NON JUDGEMENTAL.

➟ He genuinely doesn't believe he deserves love. Like ik it’s emo but he’s been thru some shit and he thinks he’s gonna die alone

➟ u gonna need to prove him wrong

➟ Any kind of affection makes him red in the face and dizzy. With that in mind, give him all the affection you have

➟ You gotta be clean too cus his room is a MESS and he’s gonna need the reminders and help fixing it up

➟ Same interests would be nice, or at least have an understanding for gaming and why he loves it sm

➟ If you’re a girl who plays grand theft auto tho,,, he’s 😳 simping respectfully

➟ But fr you gotta treat this man like he’s the cutest guy in the world. He’s flustered as fuck, but he has SO much love in him

➟ You gotta have some level of maturity. He has no time for lackadaisy, over-bubbly girls who are never sad

➟ Show him your depth and then he’ll knock down his walls

➢ Can you handle a tease??

➢ God i fuckin hope you can cus this man is RELENTLESS

➢ You gotta have some level of class like let’s not lie

➢ If you’re well-versed in poetry, got that dark academia aesthetic goin on, read a lot- he’ll FALL SO HARD

➢ he just wants that live-mysteriously-in-the-woods-with-my-lady aesthetic

➢ Act surprised and impressed when he graces you with his magic tricks. He’ll want to show you first, since your acceptance is his top priority so u better act like one direction has reunited to give you a personal bedroom concert u hear me x

➢ You gotta be a romantic. Man’s gonna perform the most GRANDIOSE expressions of love

➢ Kissing your knuckles, dipping you into his arms, bridal style carrying you everywhere, cheesy old-fashioned pet names???? Atsuhiro has GOT it

➢ And he loves to hear it all back

➢ He’s a dad, too. And he wants a girl who is motherly. It may sound traditional, but if you know how to cook and clean etc like a housewife, he’ll be swooning

➟ Oh my god you have got to be delicate. And you have to be okay with being babied

➟ He’s a quiet man with a hell of a lot of strength. He does manage the entire league of problematic kids after all

➟ If you’re mature like he is with a romantic side, he’ll be drawn to you so fast like SNAP. U got his whispy heart beating

➟ But also- be a little carefree yakno like he loves to relax as much as the next genetically modified ex-hero-in-training rip shirakumo

➟ Loves the type of girl who’s unafraid to be truly romantic. Slowdance with him in the bar at 3am and he’ll believe his entire life is worth living

➟ Also pls support him when he cracks his dad jokes 😭 ik theyre terrible but he needs the love smh 😔

➟ He’ll ask if you want to go mountain climbing and oh my god SAY YES HE’LL MELT

➟ If you’re good at tending to the league (whether it’s by being a good listener or patching them up after fights) he’ll be more attracted to you. The league are his greatest treasures, and you being friendly with them will only make his love for you grow

#my hero academia #bnha #league of villains #shigaraki tomura #dabi mha #twice mha #jin bubaigawara #toga himiko #mr compress #kurogiri #spinner mha #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #toga x reader #headcanons

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

-----------------------------------------

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

------------------------------------------

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

---------------------------------------------

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

--------------------------------------------------------

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #trans duck newton #reader request #meet ugly #boxer au

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