#he doin a wheelie

[whitedragoncoranth]

Small segment about raccoons from "Life of Mammals" narrated by David Attenborough--Rocket's homies on Earth doing what they do best!

[duke-detain]

Hello, Chief ‘Wheelie’, I wanted to check on Lieutenant Duke’s state… and I also wanted to deliver something to him, can I?

Oh! Hey tipster! His dukeness aint doin so good, he's moved on from mumbling to cubby to pacing around the house trying to reorganize his thoughts..and furniture. Or. Well. Lack of furniture.. he doesn't even have a toaster in here!

But yeah, sure, I can allow that. It might help him feel better

[aerodaltonimperial]

(tiny snippet following at least ten company policies just because it's a bcc match so i've got writing time lol)

"Jack, perfect." Matthew gestures to the wheely chair in front of the desk. They'd had to special order it, but it's nice to have for slightly uncomfortable conversations like these. Helps the talent feel appreciated. "Please. Take a seat. You saw our memo about having this little pow-wow."

"You sent a Google calendar invite," Jack says. He frowns, but he sits, so they're already heading in the right direction. Matthew gives Nicholas a discreet thumbs up.

"Which you didn't RSVP to, by the way," Matthew says, leaning against the mahogany desk and lacing his fingers together, "but that's fine, we knew you'd be here."

"So," Nicholas says. He takes up a similar pose against the other side of the desk.

Jack looks between them, expression dubious. "What is this about?"

"What do you think this is about, Jack?" Nicholas asks.

"Y'know, it's generally considered good practice to tell people what the meetings are about before they get here."

"Well, maybe you would have gotten that information if you'd just clicked the 'Yes' button on the invitation," Matthew says.

Jack's eyebrows hike up. "Touché."

"You haven't submitted any paperwork yet," Nicholas tells him.

"What paperwork do I need besides my direct deposit?" Jack asks.

Matthew lifts his hand, index finger extended. "Okay. I know you were out for a little while—no, no, clearly that's something we are factoring in here, and that you're still getting used to the new policies in place, but I sent you the forms five times."

"The direct deposit form? Cause I filled that out, like, forever ago."

Nicholas sighs, long and heavy. "Jack. These things need to handled in the proper way. There are approvals for relations like this."

Jack eyes him, and Matthew doesn't trust it. He's pretty sure Jack knows exactly what this meeting is about. But all Jack asks is, "What kind of relations?"

"Intimate relations."

"Ah." Jack sits back in the wheely chair, hoisting one ankle up to rest it on his opposite knee. He looks far too at ease for someone who seems to have ignored every email Matthew has sent for the past week. "So that's what this is about."

"Jack," Matthew tries reasonably, "these things need to be kept... tidy."

"Oh, I already cleaned the bus, if that's what you're worried about."

Nicholas's eye twitches; a concerning little tic. "That's not what this is about."

"It's maybe a tiny bit what this is about," Matthew concedes. "But mostly, you haven't signed the forms. You haven't even signed the policy."

"What policy, the cleaning policy?"

He's being obtuse on purpose, Matthew just knows it. "The dating policy."

"I'm not signing that," Jack says, without any real expression.

"Okay, first of all, it's initials, not a signature," Nicholas says, "and second of all, you have to."

"We're not dating," Jack says, "so, no, I don't."

Matthew groans. "Jack. Please be reasonable. There are procedures in place to—"

"Procedures?"

Matthew hates being interrupted, but fine, fine, he'll humor this. "Procedures in case things go... poorly, and then we have to mitigate things backstage."

"So everyone has signed this?" Jack asks. "Everyone? Like, what about... Ang and Ruby?"

"Ang and Ruby are married," Nicholas says.

Jack's face scrunches, and Matthew would like to head this off before it goes further, so he says, hurriedly, "Listen, if you would just initial the policy for your personnel file, and then submit the paperwork for approv—"

"Yeah, no," Jack says. "We're not dating. I'm not doing that."

"Jack." Matthew is dangerously close to losing his cool. "I need you to—"

Jack's phone rings, maximum volume. As though he is not currently in an important meeting with the EVPs, he fishes it out of his jeans and then holds one finger up in the sign of silence. "Yeah, gotta cut this short, sorry—hey babe. What're you doin'?" A pause. "You're lighting a couch on fire? Is it your couch?" Another pause. He stands up, phone against his ear, without giving either Matthew or Nicholas another glance. "Well, these feel like important questions to ask, is all." Another pause as he heads towards the door. "Yeah, obviously I want you to send photos, this sounds awesome. I'm super jealous."

"Jack!" Nicholas calls. "Who the hell is that?"

"Oh, my mom," Jack returns, and then waves over his shoulder in a half-hearted goodbye as he leaves.

The room is silent for a moment. Then Nicholas turns to Matthew, mouth dipping down. "That was not his mother."

"That was absolutely not his mother," Matthew agrees. "Shit."

"What the hell are we gonna do about this?" Nicholas asks.

"I don't know!" Matthew rubs at his temples. They hadn't put any of this into the time schedule, and now he's all out of whack. "I don't know. Just... let's think about this. Figure out a plan."

"Reconvene in thirty," Nicholas says. "Come with ideas for the board."

"Right." It'll be fine. They'll brainstorm. They'll get some strategy in place. No worries. No problem. "Right, that's good. Okay, thirty minutes. Back here."

[a-crumb-of-whump]

A New Beginning Drabble: Food Platter

Masterlist

Content: ADHD caretaker, vampire whumpee, it's honestly just fluff.

Ask and ye shall receive

-

Ryker couldn’t figure out how long he’d been sitting at his computer for now. Could have been minutes, could have been hours - even the time that sat at the bottom of his screen meant nothing to him as he continued to play his game.

It was only when he felt the presence of someone standing right behind him and a plate of assorted fruits, biscuits and cheeses being placed beside his keyboard that he finally tore his eyes away from the screen to glance up. Suddenly Carlos’ face was right there, mere inches away from his own and a grin that prominently displayed his two fangs. 

Gentle fingers wrapped around either side of the headphone set he was wearing, tugging them down until they sat comfortably around his neck. “Good afternoon. Havin’ fun?” 

Ryker nodded. “Yeah. How long have I been here for?” 

“You were already half an hour into it when Adam left for work this morning, so… few hours, I’d say.” As he spoke, Carlos set a glass of water down on the other side of him. “You haven’t eaten or had anything to drink since yesterday. I know humans need to eat a lot more than vampires do, so I made you a- I think the internet called it a fruit platter? Except there’s more than just fruits on there, so… let’s call it a food platter instead.” 

Ryker felt himself smile as he examined the hard work Carlos had clearly put into it. It only had the freshest of fruits and berries from each packet and all the cheese had been sliced up already, despite how much he knew the vampire hated the smell. It was a pleasure to receive after such an intense hyperfocus.

His stomach growled almost immediately, as if it was just now starting to realise how hungry he really was.

“You did all this for me?” he asked in hushed awe, already tossing two grapes into his mouth. He could see Carlos practically beaming out the corner of his eye, so proud to have made something worth gushing over. “You said you were looking on the internet, too?”

The vampire nodded. “Yeah! I wanted to make something you could eat while you play your game. It’s not very fancy but…” He trailed off and shrugged. “I was excited to get the opportunity to do something for you, since you’re always doin’ stuff for me.”

“I could not have asked for anything better, man. Thank you.” 

After eating two more berries, Ryker reached out to grab the second wheelie chair beside his computer desk before pulling it towards him until it was positioned right beside his own. “Can I show you what I’ve been doing? I know it’s most likely pointless to you but I’m super proud of what I made.” 

Carlos didn’t even hesitate to sit down, leaning forward in his chair to pay close attention to what Ryker wanted to show him. . 

“It’s not pointless,” he gently argued, and those words were enough to ease whatever concerns he had about boring him with his game. “If it makes you happy, then that means it can’t be.”

"...Besides." He between for a moment, and the cheeky smile that appeared on his face when Ryker turned to look at him only caused him to smile too. "I've been around for every hyperfixation you've had since you were three. What's one more?"

-

Taglist: @choppedflowermuffinchild @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @whump-things @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @whumpdreamz

[darrenmerculieff]

Empty out your pockets, I need all that

Yeah, yeah

G-Money said, "We need all the money, man"

Pennies and all that

With G-Money, if I don't care if he got a million in all pennies, I'ma be countin' Abe Lincolns all day

Yeah, yeah, uh

Empty out your pockets, I need all that

I get the millions, then I fall back

Niggas chameleons, they'll change for some change

The days ain't the same, niggas switch for the fame

In Louis Vuitton, I'm in my bag

Get high, then my memory gone, I've been hurtin'

I rock like electric guitars, I be ragin'

Countin' big knots, look likе yellow pages

I run it like a racе

Get in the way, brodie got the aim

To blow you away, the next day, you in the newspaper on the front page

Prayin' for forgiveness 'cause it happened on a Sunday

Back to the cash, rack after rack

So many racks that I sag

I just bought a bike, catch me doin' wheelies in the backstreet

Like I'm from where Meek Mill be

Put the "dead" in dead serious, you try me, then you will be

On my wrist, it's a ICEE, no, it ain't meltin'

Turn my closet to a freezer, AP on the shelf (Gleam)

Everybody doubted me, they ain't give me no help (Please)

So all this money in my pocket, I'ma spend it by myself (Self)

I bet you never felt this pain I felt

When mom ain't had no money and them bills brought hell

That's when G-Money hit my cell

Next day, would've fucked up and ended up in a cell

Uh, oh, hell (Fucked up and ended up in a cell)

Ended up in a cell (In a cell)

Oh, hell

Yeah, yeah, uh (Ended up in a cell)

Empty out your pockets, I need all that

I get the millions, then I fall back

Niggas chameleons, they'll change for some change

The days ain't the same, niggas switch for the fame

In Louis Vuitton, I'm in my bag

Get high, then my memory gone, I've been hurtin'

I rock like electric guitars, I be ragin'

Countin' big knots, look like yellow pages

[frankie-the-bad-guy-lupelli]

wheelie is panicking again i think

… was that panic? I could tell he wasn’t doin’ great. I’m already DMing him though, thanks anon.

[frankfukers]

my dumbass sent that off anon OOPSY MF DAISY but tbh anyone that knows me knows i luv that man (against their will, probably)

admin pls play captain save a hoe ;-;

speaking of hoe... that thing frank does when he starts getting rlly into it on stage and he does that open mouth jaw drop thing..YK WHAT ELSE IS DROPPING??? Me, to my knees

xoxo lip ring not-so-anon

dont worry im captain save a hoe, for everyone else heres the content from their last not-so-anon:

In response to that last post; i am clawing at the walls, frothing at the mouth, climbing on the ceiling I NEED TO BE ON HIM SO BADLY

his ARMS omg manhadle me THOSE THIGHS?? HELLOOOOOOO MR IERO JUST GIVE ME 5 MINUTES PLEASE trust and believe i'll be bouncing on it, doin back flips, poppin wheelies all of it which like so correct speak your truth babe

[surferboyjj]

Same baby

*I run my fingers thru you hair, the door opens and a man walks in with a recliner on a wheelie*

Man: someone order a recliner

Umm yeah I guess we did thank you

*I smile and move from him to sit it down where the other was*

*the man looks at me and his eyes widen slightly*

Man: Maybank? The hell are you doin here

Oh shit- hey- y’know the usual

*he chuckles and shakes his head*

Man: you always loved trouble didn’t ya

Yes sir

[onlyonekenobi]

critically i mean in like s12 or later. before that it wouldn't have worked bc sam would have had to let himself Become Evil to go through with it and also bc that'sthe only way it would have made sense. but after that everything was so insane all the time anyway and the stakes were so blown through the roof that they circled back around to not mattering at all anymore and hell was such a goofy little watered down concept and i think he could have just hopped onto the Hell Subway and sat in an office with a very ostentatious wheely chair and a clipboard and sighed exasperatedly every few minutes. a preposterously casual 9-5. "if i could go back and tell myself this is all it was, frankly dean, i woulda stopped fighting" [deans jaw clenches] "dont say that sammy, i know you think you know what you're doin down there but i don't like it" "i have healthcare, dean" i just think it would be so fun

i think they should have let sam be the king of hell for a little bit actually. he would have had fun and frankly when is it not useful to have a man on the inside. also he deserved it as a treat

[zarvasace]

Me to myself: this is just a doodle to get your angst out, don't spend very long on it

Myself: but sunflower background and shading :) but only the fun shading parts

[chrisevansredbelt]

hi love!! i seen you were taking requests and i was wondering how youd write frank castle and the reader making a homemade sex tape? maybe like on a macbook or something? im a literal whoreeeeee for him 😩 i would love to see you put this into words

i hope youre doing well, take care!!

Homemade

pairing: frank castle x reader

warnings: SMUT SMUT. filming. sex tape. PIV. blowjob, riding, tit sucking, worship.

summary: refer to request^^

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

“Why can’t I ever come with you?” You groan, looking up at the ceiling from your position on the bed.

You heard Frank scoff in response and you lifted your back off the bed so that you could sit up on your elbows.

“It’s not some vacation.” He lectures you, back remaining turned as he types into his laptop. It’s your turn to scoff now, turning your head to look at the duffel bag in the corner of the room that was filled with Franks clothes- sure looked like a vacation. Spinning in his little wheely chair, he gives you a serious (but very obviously joking look), “These are dangerous, low profile missions.” He jokes sternly and you roll your eyes, “I don’t want you hurt.”

“You hurt me by leaving me here.” You huff, fiddling with your fingers. You were definitely exaggerating, but not really. You were sad when he left.

“Don’t do that.” He groans, slumping in his chair.

Standing from the bed, you step closer to him, “Remember when you left me for like two months?” You ask, stopping in your tracks once you come between his manspread legs, climbing into his lap, “And we had phone sex like every week and you came back with that god-awful beard.” Your hand softly grips his jaw and he just smiles up at you cockily.

“You loved the phone sex and the beard.” He tells you matter of factly and you can’t hold back the smile at the twinkle in his eye. You’re both thinking about the week he’d come back with that beard… and all the things he did with it.

“Yeah, I did.” You crack, sitting in his lap properly now. “But if you can take David with you, how dangerous can it really be?” You ask as he spins the chair back around to continue whatever it is he’s doing on his laptop.

“I can bare looking at David get hurt.” He laughs softly. “If you get hurt-“

“I’m a big girl.” You pout, “Why don’t you teach me self defence then if you’re so worried?”

“Can’t really defend yourself when it comes to bullets and bombs.”

Huffing, you take over control of his laptop, switching screens and clicking on the photo booth icon, “Whatta ya doin’?”

“How have you never taken a single photo?” You ask, looking baffled at his empty photo booth roll.

“I didn’t even know you could take photos on this thing.” He shrugs, while you take a bunch of photos with the heart and bird filters.

You make a mental note to set one of the pictures as his home screen on his laptop one day when he’s not looking.

As you kiss him for one photo, smiling at how it turned out, you hover the mouse over the ‘video’ function of the app.

“You take this with you when you leave, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It takes videos as well.” You tell him suggestively, but your eyes said it all, averting your gaze to his lips and subconsciously tickling your fingers against his neck.

“Oh, really?” He asks teasingly, bringing his arms tighter around your waist to pull your body closer against his.

“Mhmm,” You hum, clicking the video icon and hearing the self timer count down 3 beeps before it starts recording.

By the time it has started recording, your tongue is already being shoved down Franks throat. Not really.

Sliding your hands down to his chest, you rub your thumb over his toned muscle underneath his shirt, moaning at his pebbled abs you’ve had more than a few rides on.

Unless he fucks you in the morning before he leaves (which is probably likely) this will be the last night he fucks you before he goes off on whatever shit he needs to go do.

Night sex is always the best. Plus it’s being recorded so better give him something good to remember you by while he’s gone. Not that he’d ever forget you.

One of his hands comes up to palm at your tits momentarily before sliding up your neck, grasping your jaw softly as he takes over the kiss.

There are several moments where the make out quickly becomes very heated and fast paced- mostly spurred on by you and Frank has to ground you and set the pace back to normal. He likes it though- deep down. He loves seeing how eager and needy you get.

Simultaneously grinding your hips against his own, you find a familiar poking under your ass and you whine into his mouth at the desperation.

You both finally pull away from the kiss for some much-needed air in which you rest your foreheads against one another and take in as much oxygen as you both can.

Your hands slide further down from his chest to the waistband of his pants and you feel him tense up and harden underneath you. Lifting your hips a little so that you can get easier access, your hand slips past the band and into his boxers, pulling out his dick and exposing it to the outside.

You softly gasp when you see the familiar friend, warm and firm in your hand- slightly leaking. Frank kisses your cheek, jaw and neck mindlessly as you spread his pre-cum over the head of his cock with your thumb.

Removing your hand for a few seconds, you quickly spit into your palm before wrapping your hand back around his thick cock and lubricating it with ease. Your hand slides up and down his shaft much more slick now and the noise it exudes is absolutely filthy. You love it.

Frank groans beneath you as you begin a slow pace of stroking his cock, rubbing your thumb over the head every time you reach it. Looking up at him, you pull your lip between your teeth and smile up at him. You love the face he makes when you get him like this. The way he grips onto the chair, the way his toes curl. You kinda like knowing the power you have over him.

Kissing his exposed jaw form how his head is thrown back slightly, you kiss down his neck- still continuous in your hand movements as you lower your entire body now until your kneeling on the floor in front of him.

His gaze flicks down at you quickly before looking over at his laptop. Scooting it closer to the edge of the desk and nudging the lid down a little, you smile up at him getting a better angle.

Locking eye contact with him, you slap the head of his cock against your plump lips, kissing it softly in the process. With your hand at the base, you hold the cock in front of you and admire every inch, in particular the thick vein that’s twists around the side and front.

Lowering your head just a tiny bit now, you swallow thickly before running your tongue along the entirety of the vein, all the way until it reaches the tip and you close your mouth around his head.

He sucks in a harsh breath and you moan, the vibrations running through the rest of his length, making him shut his eyes briefly. His hands almost immediately find their way to your hair.

With his dick in your mouth, you flick your tongue over the tip before lowering as far as your throat will take you. You gag and internally frown that you can’t fit him all the way. Pulling away, you make sure to leave as much spit as possible, the thick substance dripping off his cock as you remove your mouth to swallow a breath.

“Such a pretty fucking mouth.” He swipes your bottom lip with his thumb and you kitten lick it before he can take it away. Frank could’ve sworn his life flashed before his eyes in that moment.

Smiling softly at his shocked expression, you wrap your lips back around his cock and hollow your cheeks, sucking up every drop of saliva you’d left along the way.

You moaned around him once he was clean and began a languid bob of your head as you took him in as far as you could each time.

Batting your eyelashes up at him, you doed your eyes the way he loved to set him over the edge quicker as you fondled with his balls.

“Fuck,” He grunts, eyes screwing shut, “Won’t last long if you keep doin’ that.”

You just smile with his cock still in your mouth and Frank has to do a double take on his laptop to make sure it caught that. Yeah, he’s gonna be replaying that one.

You bob your head faster now, running your hand along what you can’t fit in your mouth. Procuring more and more saliva, your blows become much sloppy and Frank twitches in your mouth at the sensation.

His fingers grip your hair tightly before loosening and more so guiding your head further down. You gag around him and retreat back to the head where you focus your attention with the tip of your tongue.

You kitten lick the small indent, jerking the whole of his cock with your hand at a faster pace than your mouth could.

He arches his back of the chair, thighs tensing underneath your chest before he groans and cums down your throat.

You jump slightly as the warm and salty substance hits the back of your throat, but you take every last drop before sucking him clean and swallowing.

You bat your eyelashes at him yet again as he softly grabs your bicep and pulls you up towards his lap. You sit between his legs, resting your knee on the chair as he firmly grips your jaw and brings your lips to his.

As you engage in the kiss, he makes quick work in removing your PJ shorts. The savage he is, he would’ve torn them in two for easier and faster access, but he’s already gotten quite the earful and discipline from those actions.

You manoeuvre your hips and legs so that he can slide the thin fabric off and once you’re left in your thong, he snaps the elastic band against your skin- making you bite his bottom lip in immediate retaliation.

“Play nice.” You warn jokingly.

He just scoffs, kissing your jaw with his hands coming to remove your top. When he sees that you’re wearing no bra, he almost goes feral at the way your tits so openly greet him.

“So perfect,” He compliments, hands immediately coming up to grope at the two girls. You throw your head back with a soft laugh as he buries his face between them before sucking the small buds into his mouth.

You look back at the laptop and adjust the position so as to get a better angle and you can’t lie- your ass looks great.

You moan as he flicks his tongue over your nipple and rub your fingers through his short strands.

He just smiles up at you before remembering his exposed cock. Looking down, it’s hard, red and still leaking from before.

Removing himself and his attention away from your tits, he grabs the base of his cock and grips onto your waist tighter. You quickly shed yourself from your panties before moving your leg to hover over his sprung cock bow directly beneath your heat.

You brace yourself on his shoulders and gasp when he slaps the head against your entrance, rubbing it through your slick folds before finally pushing himself in.

You bury your face in his neck and suck harshly at the skin. “Oh, God. Frankie-“

“So fuckin’ tight.” He groans, both stilling for a moment as he lets you adjust to the size and he adjusts to the tightness.

You breathe heavily, trying not to clench around him so as to not murder him entirely right this second.

“Y’ready?” He asks, tapping your ass softly and you nod weakly with a small ‘mhmm’.

He slowly guides your ass up his cock until his head almost slips out- then he slams you back down. You moan loudly, nails digging into his shoulder as he continues the same motion.

You can’t help but clench around him the second time your cunt takes him all the way- your orgasm already fast approaching.

You’re a whimpering mess as you attempt to contribute some kind of movement, bouncing your hips along with his thrusts. The sound of slapping skin is absolutely feral and you feel sorry for David in this moment. Eh- he’s probably at the other side of the loft and watching some action movie on high volume.

“Fuck, Frank!” You whine, your clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he brings you down.

Biting your bottom lip, you bring your hand down to rub at your clit while his cock hits deep inside you. It repeatedly hits that soft spot inside you that you know is soon to send you over the edge.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” He mumbles against your tit, “Bouncing on my cock.”

You just whimper in response, too blissed to form any words at this point.

With his hands on your ass he harshly slaps your right cheek before squeezing the flesh. You gasp at the sensation it provides while you continue to fuck yourself in his dick.

“Pl-pleas-“ You try and speak but it’s a piss poor attempt.

Your knees burn and ache and you just need Frank to take over and destroy your pussy. But knowing Frank like the back of your hand, it’s gonna take some begging.

“Whas’that?” He asks, a small cocky smile forming on his lips, “Didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart.”

“Pl-“ You whine, resting your head on his shoulder and screwing your eyes shut as your thrusts are forced to resort to a slower- painful pace.

“Gonna have to speak a little bit louder, honey.”

“Please, fuck me!” You finally gasp breathlessly. “I can’t- tired.”

“Awe,” He pouts mockingly, “Well, guess I better take care of my girl, then.”

With his large hands practically engulfing your ass, he so easily lifts you up off his cock before fucking you back down on it.

The wind is knocked out of your lungs as he fucks you fast, hard and deep. You can hardly continue rubbing your hand over your clit, you’re so whipped.

“C’mon, pretty girl, you can take it,” He encourages, taking your tit back in his mouth while he fucks you in his cock. You cry out and unwillingly clench around him, causing Frank to softly graze his teeth over your nipple. “Fuck, I’ll cum if you do that again.”

The coil in your stomach quickly unfurls and you rub your clit harder to meet your orgasm.

Your body goes limp as you cum around his cock, pussy spasming and clenching around him uncontrollably as your slick gushes over his length.

True to his word, he grunts and cums deep inside you almost instantly.

“Oh, fuck,” He moans, stilling your hips.

You both watch as your mixed cum leaks out of your cunt, down his cock and you gasp at how filthy it is.

Nevertheless, you bring a finger down and swipe up the mixture and bring it to your lips.

Frank just stares at you dumbstruck while you suck your finger into your mouth. You turn your head a look directly into the camera, a gift for future Frank.

That’s when Frank remembers the laptop in front of you and ends the recording with a hearty laugh. “I’m looking forward to rewatching that.”

“For your eyes only.” You warn, cock still inside you, but you’re both contempt in just staying like that for the time being. “Well, how lonely does David get?”

Frank glares at you, seriously and sternly, “He’s got his magazines, he’s covered.”

Smiling at how jealous and protective he gets, you joke, “I don’t know, I doubt those pictures do it justice.”

“Well, then I’ll let him buy porn on the TV in the hotel.” He says bluntly, shutting his laptop, “I’m keeping you all to myself.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

hhhhhhhhh i love this request 🎀 it’s like lowkey so slay thinking about making a sex tape on macbook photo booth… with a one of the cute filters 🫣

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

Jeon Wonwoo (전원우)

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday, dear Zeta ( @jeonwonhi )~

Happy birthday to you!

You are lovable, you are beautiful, and you deserve somethin’ good in your life. I can’t give you much, but take this Established Relationship!AU Wonwoo fluff as an offering ^-^

.

.

.

You sat at the desk in your home office, tapping away at your keyboard. You sighed, taking a moment to rub your sore neck. You adjusted your glasses, squinting and widening your eyes to see if it was you that was woozy, or the words on the screen.

In the midst of your mission to prove that your Google Docs had grown sentient and started swimming around on its own, you heard the door open. You checked the time with a furrowed brow.

There’s no way he should be home yet.

You spun around in your wheely chair, and before you could even get a word out, Jeon Wonwoo came bursting through the office door, immediately walking over, scooping you up, and tossing you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

You let out a surprised squeak. “Woo?!” you gasped. “What the hell are you doin’?”

Wordlessly, he just hauled you off to your shared bedroom plopping you down on the bed, pulling down the sheets, and tucking you under them. You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Woo, I don’t—”

“Sleep,” he said sternly, pointing at you like some puppy he was teaching to ‘stay’. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s 2PM!” you said. “And I have work, Woo. Don’t be silly.” You started pulling the sheets off and sitting up, but he was quick to push you back down (gently, of course).

“You’ve been working nonstop for God knows how long,” he said, large, warm hands still pinning your shoulders down as he towered above you with a concerned look in your eyes. “You’re tired all the time, you don’t have time for the things you really love, and you’re getting dark circles. You look like a burnt-out panda.”

You weren’t quite sure how to feel. Offended that he just called you a panda, or grateful that he ditched work just because he was worried and wanted to take care of you.

You met his eyes, sighing a little bit. “I appreciate it, love, I really do,” you said. “But I do have a deadline to meet. I can’t just go to bed at 2PM and expect things to finish themselves up.” He seemed to acknowledge that much, his death grip loosening a bit. “Can I get up now?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not a chance,” he said. He laid down diagonally from you, plopping his legs over your body like a cage and causing you to lose all the air in your lungs for a split second. “I didn’t ditch work just for my plans to fall through. You’re gonna take a nap. 30 minutes, no complaints. That’s all I ask.”

You found yourself laughing again at the ridiculousness of the situation. Though maybe... You were a little twitterpated as well. “I can’t just fall asleep on command!” you insisted, smacking one of his calves.

“Then I’ll put you to sleep,” he said confidently, poking you playfully in the side with his sock feet. You gave him a look that said ‘oh, yeah? try me bitch’, but he still looked sure of himself. “Hand me my book,” he said, gesturing to the one sitting on the edge of the bedside table.

“What’re you gonna do?” you chuckled, handing it to him. “Read me a bedtime story like a little kid?”

He nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.” He gave you a look. “I have plenty of examples of how much you love my voice,” he said, lighting a subtle fire on your cheeks. “Plus, aren’t you the one who said my voice puts you at ease?” he asked, flipping open to the first chapter.

So there he went with his deep, comforting voice reading you your very own bedtime story. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you started to drift off after he got on a roll.

You could barely make out some sweet words directed at you in your half-sleep state, but right before you fell deep into your REM cycle, you were definitely, 100% sure you felt a soft kiss on your forehead.

[shangtusianheroes]

Her eyes shifted to the Rabbit, and then to the big robot in front of her. She was already debating the best way to attack it, and disable it as fast as possible. At least they were here in dragon valley away from any populated areas. But dang what was it with robots and trashing her home! she was tired of robots tearing this place up! But it did seem like the dude had a plan so she'd roll with it! He probably knew this thing better then she did.

She stomped down on the disc causing it to flip up like a frisbee and she snatched it in her hand. twirling it like a giant throwing star, before slotting it onto her belt. She just had a coy smile cross her lips and gave him a nod!

" Guess it's time to hang on, strap in and get read to rumble! cause its WILDCAT TIME!"

She yelled, before spinning backwards and tossing her Disc onto the ground in front of her. A Flash of green light enveloped the area as she materialized her motorbike! With one fell motion she jumped on to her bike and the engine roared to life! Popping a Wheelie and grabbed poor snatches arm!

" Time to Rip and Roar! hope you don't get motion sick! "

The bike Lurched forward and sped across the ground as Carol pulled Snatch up onto the back seat of her bike! The two roaring across the ground! The big Robot launched a barrage of Rockets at the Duo! But the Wildcat was no stranger to fighting robots! As she kicked into the ground and lunched the two into the air! actually LANDING on one of the rockers and speeding across it before it was send spiraling out of control! sending her and poor Snatch hurtling toward the big bot! landing with a squealing of the bikes tires!

" Alright my Dude! this is your stop! hope you know what yer doin'! cause i'm trustin' ya not to foxtrot this up! "

The Blue Rabbit raised an eyebrow in more confusion.

"Uh...How do you not know what Eggman looks like? Big guy, big gut, big mustache? builds armies of robots to do his every bidding? Nearly took over the world a while back?"

Carol then explained what happened that ended up with them meeting, and her comparisons to how weird it was for her just raised more questions.

"What? Moon Eating spaceship? Mayor Zao?"

Snatch pauses for a moment, before asking a crucial question.

"Where...where am I?"

[whoisfrosty]

just a silly headcanons about how my favorite bys characters write the text messages (with modern phones):

pete. pete writes many separate, small messages with mistakes. often he forgets about the "edit message" function and ends up trying to write the correct word in subsequent messages, which causes endless spam. pete also likes to send funny, cute and cool, in his opinion, videos, especially to tony. for example, how his pet dogs play with each other, or a video, where pete shows what a cool toys he built from lego

"hey tony"

"hows are you"

"ho w"

"how are your"

"how are you doung"

"i mean doing"

"im fine"

"i built one cool"

"cool toy"

"want me to show you"

"???"

tony. tony writes just like usual people from our time? i think. he uses a lot of short versions of words, words from the lexicon, and most likely looks up a lot of cool phrases from the internet to sound "cool" and "modern". most often tony writes medium or large messages, because he's very talkative and goes into too much detail. he uses text emojis

"heya wheelie ;) oh im great slick. feelin super good ngl. my old man the big tony (you know him it's my dad) made some delicious chocolate cranberry L size milkshake just for me after my bowling game. 3 strikes at a time can you believe it? my arm is gettin even stronger than before das for sure! >:D last time i played i had only 1 strike (lame i know) but i improved. its not so unbelievable tho i trained really hard you know. so yeah i expected my success today. anowhoo lets stop about me for a little while i want to see this lego thing of yours. then after it i can tell you more about my bowling success. you'll be shocked! :)"

angela. angela writes more competently than her big brother. she doesn't forget punctuation marks, writes messages that are quite normal in size, tries not to go into too much unnecessary details, and in general angela is a very good person to chat with, from whose message you don’t want to either turn off notifications on your phone or just ask to write more clearly. but, like tony, she sometimes uses words from the lexicon and abbreviations. loves to use emojis

"hiya, reese. whatcha doin'? ☺️ we haven't written to each other for a long time, maybe something happened to ya? don't be shy, you know i don't tell other people's secrets, not like my foolish brother 😒

speaking of which, he screwed up so badly at the bowling alley today, omg! i'll tell you more details, if you wanna. it's a pure comedy, that's fo' sure! 😂"

and reese. he writes small messages using polysyllabic, "smart" and rarely used words by other people. basically, reese doesn't like to write text messages, he prefers more live communication, because this way reese can see and feel all the emotions of the person. live conversation is much more interesting, isn't it?

"Good day to you too, Angela. Please, don't be so worry about my persona, i'm doing quite fine. The problem is, i caught a light cold not so long time ago - this is why i didn't texted you. But now i feel great. What about a little walk right now? During it, you can tell me another story about Tony's permanent failures."

[finiteuniverse13]

home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

+

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

+

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

[parkneroses]

Parkner #04 please! MJ, Ned, Peter and Harley are #squad, but Peter and Harley have a love/hate relationship (even tho it's obvious to everyone else they're idiots in love). I've blown through every AO3 fic and need more content :/ Thanks!

04 - “I’d punch you, but that’d ruin your perfect face.”word count: 2034 | if you enjoy this, buy me a coffee?

“Hey Penis, nice sweater! What’s it made of, your mom’s chest hair?- Oh, wait, never mind,” said Flash, pushing in front of Peter in the cafeteria queue. Flash’s little group of cronies forced their way in behind their leader and snickered, glaring at Peter whenever they could.

Harley smacked his tray down on the table Ned and MJ were sitting at. Ned jumped about a foot in the air and stared at Harley in shock. MJ didn’t even flinch.

“This motherfucker is really tryna make me hate Mean Girls.”

MJ looked up from her book. It wasn’t something that happened often, so Harley decided he would sit down. To, like, show her some respect. It wasn’t weird.

“Peter’s been leaving decathlon early for the last two weeks. He only does that so he doesn’t miss the train when he’s too sad to swing home. Some good news might be pretty good for him right now. And it might be good for you too. You can thank me later.” MJ said, breaking the illusion of disinterest that usually surrounded her. Her voice was always a little softer when she spoke about Peter.

Peter had that kind of effect on people. They would take one look at him, five foot something always clad in baggy cargo pants and a sweater that didn’t fit him, and suddenly every paternal instinct they didn’t know they had would come out to shine. Harley wondered if he bought his clothes like that on purpose. Maybe it felt nice being surrounded by so much soft material? Being six feet tall, fairly muscular and with very broad shoulders, Harley tended to be a larger size anyway, so he’d never really tried it. Sometimes he liked to imagine Peter in his clothes. Maybe in a hoodie, with the large hood pulled so far over his head it hung in front of his pretty brown eyes, or in one of his many flannels, complaining about how country Harley was while breathing in his scent. It was a pretty sight- or at least, Harley imagined it to be. He didn’t exactly know if he’d ever get the chance to see it in real life.

He was pulled out of his reverie when Ned spoke.

“What do you mean? What good news do you have Harley? Ned furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Nothin’. None. Don’t got any news, I dunno what she’s talkin’ about.” Harley muttered. He hated that MJ could read him so easily. Nothing was ever going to happen between Peter and him, so he tried not to get his hopes up. Harley wasn’t even quite sure if Peter even liked him. He didn’t even mean, like, in that way. It was just that-

Peter was so damn pretty. And Harley really liked looking at him. And in New York, that was okay, but Harley wasn’t from New York, he was from bumfuck Tennessee, where looking at pretty boys got you hung from your itchy school tie on a clothes hook in the boys’ locker room. It was kind of traumatising, and so Harley had learned to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, which resulted in him ignoring Peter, or being extra cold towards him for no reason, which then resulted in arguments, and fights, and- yeah, there was no way Peter would ever like him. Harley hated being the reason Peter stopped smiling, but he had this bad habit where every time he caught himself getting lost in Peter’s eyes, or staring at his pretty lips, he would force himself to stop by saying something snarky to Peter that he one hundred percent did not mean. Then he would have to watch the corners of Peter’s lips turn down in confusion, and then his eyes would narrow and he would say something equally snarky back, and then they would be bickering again and Harley could feel his chances slipping away through his fingers.

*

It wasn’t so bad in the lab. At least, Harley didn’t think it was. Peter seemed pretty reluctant to fight in front of Tony. They would work quietly on opposite sides of the room, or when Tony was in the lab with them they would use him as a buffer for their awkwardness. If Tony noticed anything weird about how they acted around him, he didn’t mention it. Though Harley wasn’t entirely sure Tony ever paid attention to things outside of what he was fiddling with at any given time. It would explain a lot.

Today, they were alone in the lab. Tony had been forced out by Pepper for some business proposal, so he had reluctantly decided to just leave the two teenagers to their own devices.

“Try not to blow anything up!” Tony had yelled before leaving the lab, to which Peter had rolled his eyes, and Harley had replied “No promises!”

Peter was tinkering with his web-shooters, forehead creased and eyes squinting in concentration. He was so beautiful when he worked- and so clever, formulas and diagnostics dancing off his tongue, stars in his eyes as if the little pieces of metal in front of him yielded a whole world of opportunities. It was breathtaking to watch, yet also heartbreaking because Harley knew as soon as Peter caught him staring, the ethereal smile would slip off his face and he would bundle himself up as though he was trying to hide from the big bad world around him.

Harley gave up. There was no way in hell Peter would ever like him back, and he cared about the little shit too much to continue pretending to hate him. Harley would just have to suck it up, and try and be friends with Peter without falling infinitely more for him. He would start simple - get him coffee. That was a thing friends did for each other, right?

Peter didn’t notice when he slipped out of the lab.

*

Harley placed the grande Starbucks cup down on the workbench in front of Peter, who was still tinkering with the same part of his web shooter- albeit now with much less enthusiasm, bags under his eyes now much more prominent as he stared with blank eyes at the mechanical puzzle he couldn’t seem to figure out.

“What’s this?” He asked.

Harley shrugged and took a swig of his own black coffee. Peter eyed the cup apprehensively, before reaching out and taking a tentative sip. He looked up at Harley in confusion.

“How’d you know my order?”

“Dunno. Guess I just remembered it.”

That was a lie. He had a vague idea it was something with lots of caramel and sugar and whipped cream, but in hopeless fear of getting it wrong he had texted both Happy and Tony to ask. Tony hadn’t replied- not because he was in a meeting, he had read the message, but most likely because he was an asshole who liked to watch the world burn. Or at least, Harley’s world.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Peter said, a pretty peach blush spreading across his cheeks. Harley felt himself melt at the sight. He took a step forward and put his cup down on the bench. Peter didn’t look up, continuing to fiddle with his project, so Harley grabbed the wheely chair from behind his own workbench and pulled it up to sit across from Peter. He faced the chair away from the bench and sat down on it backwards, with his chest resting against the padded back support, reaching his arms around to grab his coffee again.

“What’cha doin’?” Harley asked.

Peter wheeled his chair to the hologram table beside his workbench and gestured for Harley to come with him. He pulled up a projection of his web-shooters, and began taking pieces away and zooming in to the pressure sensor on the release mechanism.

“This fucking thing,” Peter said and Harley chucked.

“What’s wrong with it?”

Peter looked up at him incredulously.

“It… doesn’t work?”

“Oh. Can I take a look?” Harley asked. He wasn’t really as smart as Peter when it came to chemistry, but he was a mechanic, an engineer. He could do wires and metal. Plus, a fresh pair of eyes were always helpful. Peter nodded and the pair walked back to where the little demon device was sitting on Peter’s desk.

Harley picked it up gently, turning it over in his hands and examining it. He gently moved Peter out of the way and sat in the chair that was in front of the magnifying glass. He searched the table for something small enough to prod at the device- his fingers weren’t as dainty as Peter's, and they were callused from years of working with heavy metals and power tools. He found a scrap piece of copper wire and used it to pick up the flap of metal covering the pressure sensor. He held it under the magnifying glass, and-

“Peter, you’re gonna kill me.”

Peter choked on his coffee. “What’d you do? Did you break it? I swear to god Keener if you broke my web shooter you are replacing it yourself because I am so sick of-”

Harley cut him off.

“No, I didn’t break it. I found the problem,” he said. Peter’s eyes went comically wide, and Harley budged himself half off the chair so Peter could sit next to him. He was acutely aware of how close they were once Peter sat down- hips pressed together, Peter’s head only reaching his shoulder, but he forced himself to ignore it.

“See here?” Harley said as he lifted up the flap again. “The wire that actually connects to the pressure sensor is coming up at a weird angle so it’s attached when you look at it like this,” Harley held the device up for Peter to see, “but every time you actually hit the sensor the wire detaches and it stops working.”

Peter’s shoulders dropped and he grabbed the shooter back from Harley and stared at it, before turning to Harley with fire in his eyes.

“I have been working on this fucking thing for six fucking hours and I couldn’t figure it out and then you come here, look at it for TWO MINUTES, and you fucking figured it out. I can’t fucking believe this. I’d punch you, but that’d ruin your perfect face.” Peter ranted, although he didn’t sound angry so much as he was annoyed.

That shocked Harley, but he tried to play it cool. “You say fuck a lot when you’re mad. It’s kinda hot. You think my face is perfect?” he said.

Peter blushed.

“Wh- I didn’t say that” He lied. His cheeks turned a shade Harley could only describe as fire-engine red as he realised what Harley had said. “You think I’m hot?” He asked.

Harley smiled. “Yes, I do. And yes you did, you said you don’t wanna punch me ‘cause it’d ruin my perfect face. So which one you gonna do?”

Peter stared at him in confusion.

“The punch or the face?”

Peter still looked confused.

Harley sighed. “I’m phrasing that badly. I was tryna be smooth but it ain’t workin’ right now so I’m just gonna say it. Parker, I want you to kiss me until I can’t breathe. But if you don’t wanna do that, you’re welcome ‘ta punch me instead.”

Harley didn’t think Peter would punch him, but he braced himself anyway. Squinting his eyes shut and scrunching up his face, he waited for a hit he knew wouldn’t come. He wondered if the other boy could hear his heart racing. He could feel Peter’s breath on his face from how close they were sitting, and barely heard the faint whisper of his name before a pair of soft lips were pressing up against his, and Peter’s hands reached up to grab where Harley’s undercut was growing out. Harley relaxed and kissed him back desperately, sliding his hands up under Peter’s giant sweater to hold him properly.

This was not how he’d expected trying to be friends with Peter to go, but he couldn’t exactly complain. He supposed he would have to thank MJ after all.