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#mostly roadkill
grimmroach · 4 months
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ghost is a bone collector because i say so.
give ur faves ur hobbies
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literaryartisan · 5 months
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Forever darkly amused when the work iPhone does its whole "live photo! 😊" thing but it's actually of a very dead animal
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silly-hero-plush · 4 months
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oh it's his birthday!!
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comfortablyunsolved · 8 months
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I still love you the way you love your own roadkill, the deer you hit in the street at night in the woods, the childhood pet your dad accidentally backed over in the driveway (you never really forgave him). Any other iteration of my love for you, and yours for me, is too far gone to recover, but there is still a tenderness, a guilt-laden grief that pulls at my heart every time I see you. I yearn for us to know each other like we used to and yet I know the blame is on me and yet you hurt me too and yet and yet and yet. And like roadkill, I will pick up my love for you and carry it to the side of the road before it starts to rot. I will carry it gently, knowingly, softly, full of regret, but I will carry it all the same. I will place my love down in the wet grass on the side of the road, a soft resting place where it will tangle in the plants over time, and I will walk away.
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david-watts · 9 months
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I was looking through crime scene photos (morbid curiosity took the better of me) and ngl I'm kind of desensitized on the autopsy photos and the ones of the space where the crime took place (mostly thanks to movies and an accident I had when I was a kid)
And it's wierd bc someone's life literally ended there and suffered unimaginable pain and yet it doesn't seem real, it seems like a movie set
I mean I definitely knew I had to stop after looking at the black dahlia photos but still I shouldn't have gotten that far in the first place
Idk it might be the way I was raised culturally but I still feel like something is terribly wrong with me for wanting to know what those things look like
I'm drunk and my stomach feels a little bit off after the last couple pictures and idk I just felt like sharing the realization I had
Maybe the media was right when talking about how much violence we are exposed to
personally? I don't think there's anything wrong with deliberately seeking out gory things like that, so long as the family has given permission for the images to be shared as there is something disrespectful in not asking them before sharing something incredibly tragic. morbid curiosity is human nature, and there really isn't anything wrong with anyone wanting to know those things. it's when people continue to try and seek them out against the family's wishes and push into harassment territory that it becomes a problem, but that goes for anything that gets media attention. that and the pervasive victim complex associated is the issue with popularised true crime, not that it shows grisly things. saying you can't look at a crime scene photo just because it's a dead person, or considered 'gruesome', doesn't really help anyone.
humans are exposed to violence every single day. car crashes, assaults of any sort, accidents, and violent death, these are things that happen to someone at least once a day. if we pretend these things don't happen, it becomes even more hurtful when it does! and on one hand we need to be exposed to things so we're aware of the possibilities. but on the other, the media does give us twenty-four hours of blood and guts a day, every day, because doom and gloom gets people's attention. it makes everyone feel paranoid about what could happen because the news cycle feeds them, in the words of christine chubbuck; 'immediate and complete reports of local blood and guts news', you're not exactly gonna be thinking everything's fine and dandy and nobody's out to getcha. especially in the case of those types of true crime fans.
so basically, you're not a bad person for being morbidly curious, and so long as you're able to expose yourself within your limits and without developing paranoia then there really isn't anything that wrong about it
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buggybestfriend · 11 months
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i just need dog death + harm tagged 👍‼️ dog teeth r ok though :o)
Ok i will tag those though unlikely i will post abt that
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castielmacleod · 1 year
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I mean….. lol do you know how funny it is for me that 6 and 12 are the spn seasons I actually talk most about. I hate those seasons. 6 is pretty much boring as all fuck to me until literally the last three episodes which themselves are deeply infuriating, and 12 is genuinely one of the most excruciating media experiences I’ve ever put myself through to the point where if it weren’t for the miserable existence of seasons 13-15 it would actually literally be my most hated season of all of them. The only things I actually like about these seasons’ main storylines happen 98% off screen but those off screen things have me so utterly obsessed that every other season in turn mostly exists in a blur
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openedmaw · 2 years
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adding a new name to the list. Roadkill. thank you for listening
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kindacreepy-kindaugly · 4 months
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I don't think his (or mine) understanding of "playin nice" is rly up to standard though
#i could keep a list of all the shit he says n does that just doesn't lead to escalation so it doesn't rly even register#so yea this is just me listing things for myself tryin to keep my head at least remotely clear#so far no slurs but he did call me a junkie n compare me to roadkill n that's not exactly. what most people would call nice i guess#he's got such a way w/ words<3 a real charmer#......in hindsight the roadkill thing was funny af though i was just rly fucking tense cause uh. scared. so WHY is that where your mind goes#what is wrong with you#also do you literally have to say out loud every damn thing that crosses your mind smh#maybe writing everything down will keep me grounded enough that i don't.....go back into the lovestruck state from earlier#like jesus christ girl get a grip. all he did was not be angry w/ you n i guess call you pretty#stop actin like there's some high tier romancing happening#i'm not sure which category the whole thing w/ him referring to me as a pet goes cause i guess he could be a lot meaner but....#......nah actually he knows i fucking hate it that's 100% why he's doin it#on the shit list you go#meanwhile the way he did actually get angry doesn't cause that one was mostly on me. i was bein a bitch for no reason.#(tryin to get him to snap n drop the act before i fall too deep)#(also i don't wanna think about it n he didn't end up doin much anyway cause he backed off when i panicked)#he's also kinda constantly lowkey tryin to convince me i like some shit that i definitely don't#my body just reacts to it cause. adrenaline i guess. that's not the same thing.#doesn't fucking mean i like it#spdrvent
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blasphemecel · 3 months
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Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Wardrobe Malfunction
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 1.6k TYPE: Humor, Clothes Swap NOTE(S): For the purposes of this situation, reader is on the shorter side, and also because I feel like they have the evil of a short person in their soul. Also, same Y/n character as Dog Walking, but you don't need to read that to read this at all!
Despite whatever airs you put on, you like wearing your Bastard München uniform. Mostly because it makes you feel like a big shot professional, which appeals to your sense of self-importance.
You don’t think much of it when you slip on your shirt, but soon enough it becomes apparent to you that something is off. It feels wrong, too loose. And it’s falling down way lower than what you’re used to. You take a few seconds to scrutinize it in between owlish blinks, although the emboldened logo on the front doesn’t aid you in figuring out this mystery.
The easy way to check comes to you soon enough, and you lift your leg to see a traitorous ten in the corner of the shorts instead of your number. A look of horror takes over your face… No… You’re going to get Kaiser’s cooties. He is contaminating you with his germs.
You can already feel them loosening after the movement, and once you put your foot back down, they immediately slide off. With a huff, you grab them from the floor and resolve to strut up to the crux of your dilemma.
When you approach, Kaiser has his back on you, and you immediately notice the big eight, and the wrong name accompanying it. Ness is struggling to fit into the shirt he got, and while his jersey isn’t too ill-fitting on Kaiser, it’s too short, leaving him to fumble with the hem to try and hide the exposed part of his waist.
“It’s just like the pants, I can’t put it on,” Ness cries.
“What do you mean, you can’t put it on?” Kaiser asks before taking a handful of fabric and yanking down with too much force. “See, you can put it on just fine.”
“I can barely move! This is ridiculous-”
Oh, you see how it is now. Are they stupid, though? How have they been talking for so long without pinpointing the problem? You sneak behind Kaiser and reel in your arm before smacking him on the back with the shorts, exerting all of your might.
He lets out a grunt of pain you believe is overdramatized since it can’t have hurt that much, shoulders jerking up. “Whoever did that, I will fucking curb stomp y-” and then, after he whips around and sees you, the threat dies down on his tongue.
“Your dirty pants, sir,” you say in a fake fancy voice before throwing them at his face.
Kaiser flings them away on the bench, narrowing his eyes at you with this weird mix between taunting and adoring. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you. You’re so cute right now. Let me see.”
With this new positioning, Ness seems to finally realize what happened, too, because he says, “Wait, Kaiser, that’s… m-mine.”
Ignoring him, Kaiser steps around to examine you, and his ugly grin that you can’t stand grows even wider somehow when he reads his name. His name that’s on you because you’re wearing his jersey. “Holy shit.”
“You look like an imp.”
He disregards you with ease, too — you have to admit he’s good at this ‘only hearing what he wants to hear’ stuff — and opens his locker to rummage through it. Ness says, “You’re- you’re wearing Kaiser’s? That’s so unfair.”
“Yeah, and you’re wearing mine. Stand proud. You’re blessed. Millions would kill to be in your place. Everyone’s gonna wear this merch in the future, but you get the real thing.”
“You seriously live in la-la-land, it’s unbelievable.”
You spin your finger in the air, seeming way too pleased with yourself. “Do a little twirl for me, I wanna see how it looks on you all around.”
“I will NOT be doing that,” Ness denies with a huff. He’s so uptight when it comes to anyone who’s not Kaiser. Someone would’ve thought you have gangrene or that you asked him to clean roadkill off the street or something with the way he’s acting.
What Kaiser was searching for in such a rush turns out to have been his phone, you come to find out when he starts taking pictures of you without even a modicum of shame. Multiple of them, if the repetitive pressing he’s doing is indicative of anything.
“Don’t point your phone at me, you sick fuck,” you say, reaching out to cover the lens.
Your efforts go in vain, since he just lifts it up high where you can’t reach and continues. “No way. You’re just way too cute right now. I mean, shit.”
Mocking you aside, there’s this thinly-veiled wonder on his face, and it’s making you want to vomit because of course he’d be the type to get a kick out of stupid shit like this. He’s so fucking lucky, too, it’s pissing you off. Among the three of you, he’s the only one who’s kind of in presentable condition.
Once you come close to swatting the device out of his grasp with a jump, Kaiser presses his palm to your face and shoves you away, keeping you at an arm’s length. Then he diverts his attention to Ness, snapping photos of him now and laughing. “You look stupid as hell.”
“Nooo, Kaiser, don’t! Stop!” Ness says, red-faced, to absolutely no avail.
He even takes a few steps back and does a bad job of covering his stomach with his hands while inching towards the bench, which… he makes a genuine attempt at ducking under. This doesn’t deter Kaiser from continuing his paparazzi session or whatever it is that he’s doing, nor does it conceal Ness from view.
You detach your cheek from Kaiser’s hold and announce, “Don’t worry, Ness, I’m gonna save you from the vile pig,” before you take an unnecessary leap and stick your fingers where the shirt is riding up, tickling his sides.
This startles him enough to let go of his phone (the apparatus of evil), sending it flying. You at least have enough decency to catch it, since you’re not really above letting it shatter either. Then you start scrolling through it with the intention of deleting the photos.
It doesn’t take Kaiser long to recover from your attack, and when he does, he reaches out to you. You assume he’s just trying to get his phone, so you kind of twist around to try and prevent him from doing so, but what he does is much worse.
He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him before collapsing his stupid ass on the bench (which, at this point, has witnessed many horrors), leaving you to sit on his lap. Then — as if this isn’t offensive enough already — he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“God, you’re such a touch-starved freak, it’s actually appalling.”
“You probably won’t look this good in your life ever again.” You roll your eyes at the stupid comment, and he starts tapping the screen along with you, and he even has the nerve to snicker. “I needed to be opportunistic.”
“Whatever, man.”
The weird battle results in a lot of random apps opening and closing, until eventually the gallery comes up on accident. With a feeling of triumph, you slap his hand away, so he won’t get in your way anymore. There you see the long string of pictures depicting Ness’s progression towards hiding under the bench, which, in your opinion, would make a great slideshow. Next are the images featuring you, where you’re looking up at him and struggling to even graze the phone, swiping your fists at thin air. Wow, you never thought you’d see your Great and Almighty Self from such a… pitiful perspective.
Before you can mope about how vertically challenged you are, however, something else catches your eye, and you burst out laughing, borderline dry-heaving from the acuteness of it. “What-”
Kaiser flusters and snatches his phone out of your fingers before pushing you up and away from him. This, for better or for worse, doesn’t wipe your memory or make you unsee the comically large amount of shirtless mirror selfies he has accumulated.
Despite your stumbling, you don’t fall. “How did you always manage to make the exact same pose and exact same expression in every single one of them?! Seriously. That’s spine-chilling.” You pretend to wipe a tear, even if it’s not that funny.
Kaiser doesn’t respond and turns around to toss his phone back to wherever he got it from. Ness — whose presence you kind of forgot about — deems it safe enough to stand up and reemerge. He asks, “What? What did you see?”
“His shrine of himself,” you say. “By the way, I think he’s a stripper.”
“I’m not a stripper,” argues Kaiser as if there was a possibility Ness might believe you.
For the first time, it’s Ness who is pretending Kaiser didn’t say anything. “Did you delete them?”
“No.”
He slumps, disheartened.
You make your way behind him. “Alright, let’s switch back,” you say, rolling up the material of your jersey. Surprisingly Ness accepts the help without any complaints and just accommodates you with a high raise of his hands.
You’re nearing the biggest problem area — his shoulders — when Kaiser deems it fit to intervene. “Ness, bend over. You’re taking too long.”
He does as told and Kaiser, for some godforsaken, idiotic reason, hooks his fingers inside of the collar. But you don’t see that since you’re trying to focus on your part, so instead you just comment on his willingness, “Slutty.”
“S-Shut up- Oh my god, don’t pull like that, what if it tears?!”
“It’s not going to tear.”
This exchange alarms you somewhat, so you shift your gaze to Kaiser, and what greets you is the sight of him tugging on the collar, trying to hoist it over Ness’s head. Your eye twitches. “If you damage mine, I’m gonna make good use of yours. Naturally what I mean by this is that I’ll use it as toilet paper.”
“It’s not going to tear,” repeats Kaiser, yanking harder. Apparently your collective lack of faith in him is vexing him.
… You hear a rip.
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Happy valentine's day (I wrote this yesterday i was with my boyfriend today lol. He's american so he thinks valentine's day is a real holiday)
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threebea · 25 days
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I feel like we could get weirder with the near human stuff honestly. Give Stewjoni bird DNA. They evolved from a bird species and mixed with humans. Let them all be cocky bird motherfuckers. Give them a sense of magnetism and the instinct to migrate. Let them lay eggs and occasionally molt. Stewjoni mascs get the prettiest shiniest outfits and fems prefer neutral colours and styles. It's not uncommon for some people to be fluid with their gender presentation. Maybe their hair changes colour naturally from duller colours to brighter and back. You impress people with dancing. Not only to woo them, but dance battles are a common way to begin negotiations. Dancing can be as simple as arm waving or head bobbing. They're extremely playful. Most of their sports involve stealing a shiny thing.
Obi-Wan had a stash of shiny treasure when he was little. It was mostly bottlecaps and buttons, and maybe a few spoons. He used to give his friends small metal objects to show he liked them which drove the Creche master crazy because those are choking hazards please stop. Qui-Gon gives him a pretty rock because ah yes, a stewjoni kid will like a pretty rock, but by then Obi-Wan is pretty culturally human and is like ??? it IS pretty and I DO like it but what?
He gets called ma'am a few times beard and all, but by then he's aware for a Stewjoni he's dressed very feminine and just rolls with it. Jedi are pretty gender egalitarian he doesn't care.
He's offered bugs a lot because that's a standard Stewjoni dish but he hates bugs. Didn't grow up to like the taste. Sometimes it's just what you grew up with. Qui-Gon it's good for you! You're still growing! Obi-Wan: I'd rather have roadkill! Qui-Gon: That's good for you too! You evolved from a scavenger species! Obi-Wan: I evolved from a trash bird. Give me the nerfburger Qui-Gon! Qui-Gon: STOP STEALING MY FRIES OBI-WAN!
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HELLO ALL. I've decided I'm going to attempt to host an event week this year because I really love these two and they've been on my mind a lot lately! I'm thinking of making a spicy version of the prompts so if you're interested please pipe up somewhere on this post and I'll tag you on it when/if I make it because I will NOT be putting that in the main tags. Please message me/shoot me an ask if you have any questions! I look forward to seeing everyone a little closer to time! IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A black, green and yellow image, mostly composed of text that reads: Dukeceit Week 2024. April 6th-13th.
6 Sunflowers/Ocean
7 Road trip/Roadkill
8 Cats/Rats
9 Teeth/ Hair
10 Cowboys/Bootleggers
11 Body-swap/ Sharing Clothes
12 Coffee Shop/Dive Bar
13 Antiquing/Free Day
#Dukeceitweek2024.
End ID.
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boringbxtch · 1 year
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Lester Sinclair | getting a little relief
1.5k words
[ Gender neutral reader smut ]
not descriptive on gender specific body parts but i identity as female so please let me know just incase I unintentionally messed up somewhere
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Warnings: oral(m receiving), degrading/praise, using a human as a toilet (no#1) and spitting (you get called multiple names including bitch, slut, whore )
From all of those warnings you can guess that the below imagine is 18+
At this point I’m not confident with attempting to type how Lester sounds, so I’m mostly keeping it general writing but you can read it in his voice
You didn’t know why you expected any differently, sitting bored and alone in a ghost town should have been what you anticipated and yet with how up your ass Bo was…figuratively of course, you would have at least anticipated some appearance from him but no. Left alone lying on the wooden floor trying to get some semblance of fresh air to your heated body.
It seemed your saving grace was walking through the door at that moment, Lester Sinclair. “Should’a ask why you’re on the floor?” “I’m wasting away that’s what I’m doing down here” your flair for dramatics causing laughter to erupt from the man.
“Well I don’t know about wasting away ya look perfect ta me, If you want you can join me on my run” That seemed to spark some life into you at least a little. Slowly rising from the ground and both making your way over to his truck. The smell hit you much like how the truck would on impact, the rancid smell of rotting carcass couldn’t exactly be described as an aphrodisiac but never the less you both climbed in and set off down the back roads in search of roadkill.
It had been a little while since you spent time with Lester given that the man showed up briefly to drop off people with car troubles and he was away again, So this was a welcome distraction even if Lester seemed a little more skittish that usual, you didn’t bring it up though believing he was just getting used to spending this time together after all he did spend most of his time alone on the back roads.
It had been roughly just about over an hour since you left the house and you could see from the corner of your eye that Lester was shifting in his seat though trying to do it inconspicuously so you wouldn’t notice, not missing the side long glances he takes at you when there’s a lapse in conversation and silence hits. He seems to look at you from head to toe, you can admit that you did find yourself liking the attention due to the feelings you were harbouring for the man.
That’s what gave you the little bout of bravery coupled with slight pity for his uncomfortable shifting to reach over and place your hand on his mid inner thigh before commenting “I can help with that, honey. Give you the relief you want, That’s if you want me to” The silence you were met with was like ice water thrown over you making you stutter out apologises while retracting your hand.
It didn’t get very far away before it was grabbed “I’m not rejecting you darlin, if anything I’d take you right here but this ain’t quite what you think” your face must have betrayed your thought to make him say “ I need to empty the tank if you know what I mean” feeling foolish but still reeling a little from the non rejection you did something you never believed you ever would. “The offer still stands,you can use me to relieve yourself”
A loud screech tore through the air, he had jammed his foot down on the break before snapping his head in your direction. “Y’sure about that darlin? Cause once I start going I might not be able to stop it” having lost your nerve by now you just nod back as an answer. He turns around and bounces his way out of the truck to walk around and open your door for you given that it sticks.
Getting out the truck you both make your way towards the tree line with you lagging slightly behind Lester, your nerves are really hitting you now when you make it far enough in so no one will see you both. Not that many people travel out this far often but it’s a precaution. Meeting him face to face but you can’t seem to meet him eye to eye slight regretting the decision you made.
A hand touched your chin causes your eyes to finally meet. “Cmon now don’t get shy on me, you want it that bad you’d get on your knees and beg for anything from me even my piss” the pure shock of the sentence seem to have given him an advantage to place his hands on your shoulders to take you down to your knees. Unceremoniously landing in the grass now eye level with the slight bulge in his blue jeans. His hands obstructing your view slightly to unzip them and lower both his jeans and underwear enough to bring himself out, Almost like you were viewing it from an outside perspective you shot to the forefront when he had fully exposed his slightly hard cock. Locked in a one sided staring contest with it due to the almost laughable circumstances before feeling a sudden wetness hit your face, he had spit on you “ open you mouth dirty little bitch” you had never seen Lester like this before especially with him above you but it wasn’t unwelcome.
Gripping your jaw to open your mouth he leans over and you catch sight of the saliva leaving his mouth this time right before the liquid hit your tongue. mouth wide open still he grabs hold of himself and reiterates “are you sure about this darlin? We can stop here” the little sweet moment unexpected but you reply back with “I’m sure Les, it’s ok” eye contact is held when the first spurt hits you just below your throat on your sternum before he makes an adjustment in his stance , the shock of the bitter and salty taste hit your tongue causing a slight jump. The liquid dribbling down the side of your mouth from the movement.
The look on his face makes the liquid filling you mouth worth it, that’s why you’re doing this…purely for Lester you think while ignoring the feeling stirring between your thighs. Your mouth filling up fairly quickly but giving you very little option to move with his hand gripping your jaw and the other gripping the bottom of his shaft.
You feel the stream taper and stop but you remain still with your mouth brimming full , doing the first thing that comes to mind closing your mouth but it’s quickly forced back open with his thumb and pointer finger.
“We’ll I’ll be damned” You had swallowed it. A sudden wet feeling slap brought your attention back in focus, he hadn’t moved his hands, One was still gripping the side of your jaw and the other still had a tight grip on the bottom of his dick, he’d hit you on the face with his dick smearing urine across your cheekbone.
“Fuck I think you’ll be coming with me more often, you dirty little slut drinking it down” a breathy chuckle “I’m nowhere near finished so open your mouth”
He placed the tip against your bottom lip, This time you were prepared for the stream to come, the same bitter taste that screwed up your face but you wanted to be good and stay still not that the hand now on the back of your head gave you much choice.
Mouth filling up quickly you swallow again, your mouth closing around the head temporarily causing the stream to hit directly on your lips streaming down the side of your face to your chest soaking into your clothing
You could feel the warmth of the liquid running down pooling onto you thighs reaching between them. The stream was slowly losing its flow tapering off into little spurts at the end. A groan of relief emitted itself from his mouth having been able to finally empty his bladder, looking down at you. You must have been a sight, covered from face to thighs in his urine with your clothing plastered to you. Swallowing around the last mouthful you lean forward and bring his tip to your mouth licking the head clean before bringing your head forward to take more of him into your mouth.
“Fucking little whore wants more they can’t just accept what they’re given and be grateful , you want to suck me clean and work for my cum. You’re a good little slut aren’t you?” The answering hums causing his head to throw back in a gritty whine, his hips now slowly canting forward to meet your mouth bobbing down his shaft. Getting so far into it you don’t expect to be pulled backwards, the resounding pop of your lips leaving his tip loud in the trees. Being pulled up to stand you were told “as much as I’d love to take you like a whore, head buried in the grass with your ass in the air filling you with my cum and watchin it dripping down your thighs. I want to be good to you for our first”
As you fully balanced on your own feet again a thought came to you, How were you going to get back into the house like this without anyone seeing you? You can’t but don’t worry they’ll treat you real good…I promise
It’s a little rushed but I had to finish typing it quickly or I would’ve made a whole book on sucking Lester off, hope you like it
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mo0nlyte · 4 months
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(This is something that happened, so I'm making a story, just imagine phones exist back then for the sake of this story)
Imagine you are on your phone on Pinterest, you found it fun, why?
Organizing, making cute and or deranged unsettling (Possibly ones about cannibalism people think are "AeStHeTiC!1! 😍🤪", you always did question which ones where and weren't actual cannibals..) moodboards.
Look, ya are quite lonely, and your brothers aren't always fun.
Actually you're in the barn hiding from your chores at the moment. You really didn't want to clean up all those knives :(
You like to keep random things, your room is FULL of stuff you've found around the farm. You got a lot of your personality from the twins, and Bubba. You spent most of your time with them.
..or stuff you've taken but that's besides the point!
You had bottles from 1947, your oldest glass bottle is from 1937! You also have old pins, which you and your brother Chop-Top do have a rivalry over who has the coolest.. Nubbins is the mediator, saying usually something along the lines of "Ya both tied, they are both equally cool." In reality he just can't choose who he likes more sometimes
You were on your phone, you heard Drayton calling. Oh no. You put it on a hay bale and immediately jump down from the hayloft. It's.. big but you fuck around and find out too often and have quite a high pain and heat tolerance.
"(Insert your full legal name), Get yer ass out here!"
To say your stomach filled with fear was definitely.. an understatement.
What did you do to piss off Drayton now? No idea but you went to go see what he needed. Hoping you weren't in for a beating on the head or back, why? He didn't whip you, he smacked your back so hard with a broom you heard a CRUNCH. Yes, you were fine. Well mostly, definitely traumatized a wee bit.
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Meanwhile, guess who also had chores in the barn! The twins!
Guess who didn't lock, sign out, and brick their phone? You!!
Immediately they are nosey. What's their precious little-
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..They didn't find porn, or anything like that.
Nah they just found the Spotify account, the notepad, which you definitely had a few issues. Specifically anger issues, you had some notepads you had to take 5 minutes to scroll through bottom too.
Your Pinterest was full of weird stuff. Odd animal pictures that look weirdly funny and distorted? Funny lil cannibalism boards, memes, a mountain of memes because you are either chronically yeehaw or chronically online, take that as you will.
They found a few moodboards about them, about our(? Your? Their? Ya get the point) Brother Drayton. Honestly it matched his personality.
Bubba's was cute and full of taxidermied roadkill, you had made both of theirs earlier, and rearranged it perfectly.
Then they found theirs.
When Nubbins saw it, you even had a picture of his knife and camera almost exactly, how cool!
You had Chop-Top's favorite band, maybe you do listen!
Then Chop-Top started hysterically laughing.
"W-w-what? What's s-so funny?"
Chop-Top gladly pointed it out.
Nubbins couldn't tell if he should laugh, cry, be offended, or plot your murder.
Meanwhile Chop-Top is dying (almost literally) of laughter. "That is the funniest shit I've ever seen her do, that takes the meat!" (You guys often don't say "take the cake", but "take the meat" as a joke.)
Fun fact, nobody actually went to school.. you guys were all homeschooled by big bro dray.
Chop-Top calmed his twin down after a while, still looking through the board, you had found many things you thought they would, it did like. You got almost everything right.
They are definitely plotting how they both can get you back tho.
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No, Drayton wasn't too pissed off. You just forgot to tell him where you were, and scared the ever-loving shit out of this poor man.
Once you got back to the barn, you climbed to the hayloft.. and noticed your phone was moved. You immediately went through it, but surprisingly nothing was out of the ordinary.. except your notepad had a new note.
"you'll end up worse<3"
Cheeky little bi-
You silently live in fear waiting for what prank they'll do next :(
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writegoblin · 10 months
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I have been severely craving my boy. No no, not Michael. Boseph uwu
Look at him. Unf.
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Anyways.
Bo Sinclair Headcanons!
SFW
- You ended up in Ambrose because your car alignment decided it had enough of these off road shenanigans.
- Your reasons for being out that way, for story purposes, are running from your old life. All your old family and friends are shitty so you an conveniently disappear bc smthn smthn deus ex machina
- HOW you find out about your car alignment is another story. Let's just say, tumbling in a car is much more painful than it looks. What's worse is landing in a roadkill pit. Yeah boy. You know what time it is B)
- Lester almost shit himself when you came from over the highway. He thought you were dead and was going to call Vincent when you punched out the front seat. That's hot. Alright stranger, you're coming with me!
- He tries to clean you up and get your name. Takes you back to his place because he doesn't want to catch the twins off guard. But the day you spend there is lovely.
- You get the Ambrose and immediately shits off. Long story short, you become something of a live in maid. They can't kill you because it would be a lot of hassle on their end (another deus ex. You're related to a cop or something idk), and they COULD turn this situation around. Get use out of you.
- Bo likes how witty you are. You don't like to be bossed around which is clearly why you ran away from home (what are you, 10?)
- At first he's very callous to you and makes no effort to understand you. As far as he's concerned, you're another spoiled out of towner, just impeding on he and his brother's strange get rich scheme (more on that later. I'll explain in end notes.)
- What's worse is you're argumentative. Whenever he asks you to do something (read: yells at you), you always gotta talk back. You say funny stuff sometimes but it's annoying mostly. Vincent enjoys it much more than he does.
- You make nice with Vinny first. When you aren't forced to do chores, he lets you help him with the wax. Bo sees this and eventually realizes that while you are certainly mouthy, you are human with like hobbies and shit.
- He's a chef he's a gourmand
- He cooks for he and Vincent because Vincent, due to some brain damage, has a weird palette. So anything he makes either has way too much seasoning, or it tastes like cardboard. Bo on the other hand, grew up running around the streets of Baton Rogue with his friends after school. He KNOWS how to cook good.
- He's also good at first aid. The actual surgery and medical stuff is Vincent's wheelhouse but once you broke your arm trying to fix some shutters he told you to fix. He felt bad so he very gingerly fixed your arm. It healed really nicely but you'll never forget the way those blue eyes of his were so warm when he looked at you, touching the bend in your forearm and his voice, gentle as the day you first met went, "does it hurt?"
- Yeah but you looking at me like that bout to get me pregnant hurts worse sir
- As a boyfriend he's only jealous/protective around tourists. But as a dude in a town with a population of technically 3.5 if you count Lester's visits, he gets it. He does not mind his twin ogling you. He does not mind sharing EVENTUALLY. At first, he's very apprehensive.
- Bo's love language is physical touch. Even nonsexual touch is nice. He likes laying his head in your lap while yall watch TV and you rake your nails through his scalp gently.
- When he gets night terrors he likes to hold onto you in the dark like hope. He puts his face in your chest and he's almost like a little kid for a second. You have no choice but to coddle aw noooo aw man can't believe I have this hot sexy guy in my lap crying ohbhughghh
- If you're pear shaped? He loves your hips. Man, woman, ethereal creature, it don't matter. He was born an ass man he'll die an ass man.
- If you like star gazing, he'll listen to you rattle off about constellations. He likes listening to people ramble about unique special interests because it gives him a little taste of variety in his quiet life.
NSFW
- big. Thick. Cut.
- leftward pitch and he loves doing mating presses.
- much more inclined to rough sex (obviously)
- I do know he likely and unfortunately assaulted those ladies on the wall but in my HCs I like to think it was CNC instead. What stops him from doing the same here is you're too loud and mouthy, so the attraction is initially not there.
- As you soften up because of Vin though, and start opening up and smiling and being cute, he can't help but let his mind roam sometimes.
- Loves fantasizing you in different little costumes to dress up in. A visitor once visited and she was a cam girl! In your size! So lucky!
- please were garter belts this man will not be normal
- Loves intercurral. To punish you if he catches you masturbating, he'll fuck your thighs until he cuts, leaving you all hot and bothered.
- The basement does not come into equation until after the first time. And the first time is more of a gentle, romantic moment of vulnerability.
- Your first time was during a thunderstorm and you were telling him about your past and how so many people hurt you. Abused you. He felt so connected to you. You always held back your anger and he let you express it by throwing stuff and by the end of it you were a sobbing and screaming and laughing mess and he was standing in the debris and he saw himself and he reached out and kissed you in an attempt to ammend himself.
- When he made love to you that night, he decided your ass is never moving out sorry lol
- Exhibitionist. Likes to take you to Baton Rogue for little dates and fucks you in alleys and parks. The most exciting was a drive in theater he took you to where you gave him head. He fucked you in the wooded area outside after.
- PRIESTKINKPRIESTKINK
- Hahaha okay but what if you confessed and he fucked u in the confessional would that be crazy or what
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have a few HOW headcanons actually!
- the boys do the whole house of Wax thing in an attempt to get rich. Bo decided "oh I guess I could be mayor but hm no money here" and he rubbed two cells together and was like "WHAT IF WE MADE AN ATTRACTION THAT WAS THE BESTEST."
- tricked Vin into it cause "they're carrying Mom's legacy :(((( she'd love this trust me we're gonna expand the house into a town it'll be great."
- Lester's there cause he loves his brother's and is also admittedly a bit crazy himself. He's definitely tied a few people up and intimidated people, but that's not his usual job. He's too baby.
- Canonically, where Ambrose is located, it would be a roughly 30 min drive (or 2 hours I forgor lol) to Baton Rogue! So fun fact. They're Baton boys uwu
- I think even though Bo is a good cook, gumbo is Lester's wheelhouse cause he's just got that swagger to him. Like if I met Lester and he was like "do u want me to make you gumbo" I'd say yes, no hesitation.
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Like Breathing - One
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Title: Like Breathing
Word Count: 3.2k
Part Warnings: Dead and injured animals, killing animals, blood, harassment, and stitching up wounds
Summary: Bucky’s life in Cove is far from perfect, mostly because Cove’s residents want nothing more than to scare him away. Luckily for you, Bucky isn’t easily scared off.
A/N: This is the first part of Like Breathing. I hope you enjoy! As always, thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​
Translations:
Маленький = Little one
Like Breathing Masterlist
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Bucky didn’t kill anymore. His therapist reminded him of that daily, which he loathed, but he still nodded along every time she said it. Of course, it wasn’t true. Bucky had killed yesterday.
The sleepy little town he had been placed in as part of his pardon was practically idyllic. Neatly trimmed lawns lined litter-free streets, and each afternoon when the schools let out, children rode their bicycles up and down the sidewalks. They played ball in the cul-de-sac and Bucky swore that one afternoon he’d even seen an ice cream truck turn the corner west of his house. The ranch-style, one bedroom home had been loaned to him by the FBI. It wasn’t something Bucky would have picked on his own, but Steve had reassured him that once he got his bearings, he could decorate it to feel more like his own place. Bucky had not done that. Everything was exactly as it was the day he moved in—basic furniture with no decor. The only personal items he kept were his clothes, a small box containing pictures and other items sent to him by the Smithsonian, and his laptop, which was also given to him by the FBI. It was most likely bugged, just like the house and the phone. The majority of the items in the house were either already there when he moved in or things he’d purchased for Alpine. Bucky always thought of those as her personal items, not his. She was the only other living being that had ever been in his house. Not even Steve had come to visit.
In the four months he’d lived in Cove, he had limited his interactions to the soft-spoken volunteer at the animal shelter and the older woman who manned the register at the pet store. Both of them had been instrumental when he adopted Alpine, a soft white cat who’d been surrendered to the shelter after she’d hissed at the previous owner’s kids. Bucky didn’t think that was a good enough reason to get rid of a pet. He hadn’t planned on getting a cat, or any kind of animal for that matter, but after his therapist suggested it, Bucky hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his head. It turned out that while Alpine had more attitude than Steve, she was affectionate when he needed it. Other than that, she preferred to keep her distance the majority of the time. She was welcome company while Bucky worked each day.
Laughter and jeering from his front yard drew Bucky’s attention from where he’d been reviewing surveillance data on the bugged laptop. He sighed and got up from the kitchen table, pushing his chair back and ignoring the screech it made as the legs scraped across the old linoleum. Alpine darted out from underneath the table at the sound, sprinting down the hall to the safety of the bedroom, just as she did every day at this hour.
As he trudged through the living room, Bucky didn’t have to wonder what was waiting for him when he opened the front door. Every time it was the same: a pickup speeding off with men teetering in the bed and some form of roadkill bleeding out on the sidewalk in front of his house. His stretch of sidewalk was the only one that kids never played on, and for good reason. The brown stains left by months worth of dead animals never seemed to go away, no matter how much Bucky scrubbed.
Jaw clenched, Bucky grabbed the bucket of tools from just inside the door and headed down to the front of his yard. The deer was young, practically still a fawn, and his chest tightened at the sight. Its chest rose and fell unsteadily and the panicked look in his eyes was all too familiar.
Slowly, Bucky knelt down beside the frightened animal, his back to the street. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he soothed. 
The animal had been hit by a car—he’d seen these wounds plenty of times—and there was little chance it would survive. Most likely, it would bleed out excruciatingly slow on the sidewalk as the sun sank below the horizon.
“Let’s get you into the backyard, huh? It’s okay.” He kept his voice soft and even as he spoke to it, explaining what he was doing. He knew it couldn’t understand him, but after months of practice, he knew that talking to them kept them calm and kept him from getting a hoof or claw to the face.
Bucky unfolded the tarp from the five-gallon bucket and carefully manipulated the poor animal onto the plastic. Dragging it across the yard to the back of the house was easy, and when it was situated with the forest in view, Bucky left it to get his bucket of tools.
He hated every minute of this ordeal. Sometimes the animals were already dead. Those were the good days. He could simply haul the animal into the woods and leave it for the scavengers. This kind of animal, the ones that were left to suffer in plain view of his living room, were the cases he hated. His nightmares were plagued with them now, their whimpers interspersed with those of his victims long ago.
The most humane thing Bucky could do in situations like these was to put the animal down himself. The first time the creature had still been alive when the men had dumped it, Bucky had attempted to take the animal to the emergency vet less than a mile away. He’d been turned away at the door. The police were no help either, as the sheriff was almost always seated in the back of the pickup. He’d tipped his hat at Bucky one day while they sped away. Bucky had punched a hole in the living room wall.
“You’ll feel better soon,” Bucky said, eyeing the deer as he loaded what he would need into his waistband.
He dragged the tarp into the woods, into the clearing near the meadow. The young deer lifted its head, its longing for the rolling waves of grass and wildflowers clear as it groaned and settled back on the forest floor. Blood slicked over the blue plastic tarp beneath it and Bucky looked away, readying his weapon.
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. He looked away as he pulled the trigger. The familiar sound of the silenced gunshot didn’t phase him, and Bucky quickly cleaned up the remains, leaving them for the scavengers once he’d removed the bullet.
After hosing down his equipment and leaving it in the garage to dry, Bucky grabbed a bucket of soapy water and the stiff-bristled brush he used to scrub the sidewalk. He stepped out of the garage, but froze almost immediately.
Another animal had been left in the deer’s place, this time significantly smaller in stature. Bucky glanced back at his drying tools, then set his cleaning bucket down on the driveway. Water sloshed over the side onto the asphalt but he ignored it. In just a few long strides, Bucky knelt down at the animal’s side.
The cat’s fur was matted with blood and it whined pitifully as soon as he was within earshot, but when Bucky reached out to touch it, it hissed and tried to scramble away.
“Hey, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s okay.”
A flash of white made Bucky pause. He blinked and Alpine was between him and the other cat, her tail aloft as she stuck her curious nose in the injured feline’s face.
“Alpine, leave them alone!” Bucky scolded. “How did you even get out here?”
Alpine simply ignored him and moved to investigate the other animal further. He looked around, spotting the front door open. He must’ve forgotten to close it and Bucky inwardly kicked himself for making such a stupid mistake. It was usually more about what—or who—could get in his house than what could get out.
Sighing, Bucky reached out to pick up his cat. She obliged his touch, affectionately rubbing her head against his hand when he was close enough. The cat laying on the sidewalk watched Alpine intently as Bucky scratched behind her ears, then scooped her up and carried her back up the driveway and into the house. He shut the front door behind her, then went back to the injured animal’s side.
“You gonna let me help you now?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice soft. “Huh?” He reached out a hand and though the cat tensed, he was able to smooth back the matted fur to find the injury.
The cat had a long cut stretching down its right hind leg, from the hip all the way down to the paw. The blood had already begun to clot, which was a good sign, but it was still a cause for concern. If he jostled the animal too much, they could begin to bleed again. 
“You really got into some trouble there, didn’t you?” As if to reply, the cat meowed and laid its head down on the stained concrete. It still watched him, but it had relaxed and Bucky felt a bit more confident in his ability to move it into the house where he could stitch up its leg. 
“Alright, I’m gonna pick you up. I promise I’ll be as gentle as I can,” he said. He continued to softly narrate his actions as he lifted the cat and held it against his chest, then went into the house through the garage. He jabbed his metal thumb into the button beside the door so that the garage would shut behind him, just in case Alpine decided she wanted to do any more adventuring today.
Alpine, true to form, was waiting for him when he stepped inside the house. She immediately started weaving around his feet, and Bucky would’ve tripped over her if he wasn’t as agile.
“Careful, sweetheart. We gotta be nice to our guest,” he chided when she jumped up on the table. Bucky set the cat down on top of the newspaper he’d left spread out during his research earlier that day. He could get a new copy later if he needed to. Right now his priority was to clean and stitch up the cat’s wound. 
After an hour of work, the injured cat had a freshly shaved leg with a freshly cleaned and stitched wound. She had, surprisingly, stayed still and quiet for the majority of the time, only watching Bucky with wide, frightened eyes. He’d discovered that the cat was a girl partway through, which had been more of a relief than anything. Alpine had taken quite a liking to the new animal. Maybe once the animal healed, his little friend could have a friend of her own, given that nobody came looking for her. Friends he could handle, but kittens were a whole other story.
Bucky shook his head as he went back to cleaning up the table. It was a methodical task, one he could appreciate, but he kept glancing back over his shoulder to check on the cat, who’d fallen asleep shortly after he’d finished. He’d set her up near the litter box, and he’d moved the food and water a bit closer so that she wouldn’t be walking as far on the injured leg. Alpine had curled up for a nap of her own on the floor nearby.
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When you woke, it took you a second to remember where you were and what had happened. It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up in a strange house in your feline form, but the injured leg and the fluffy white cat snoozing nearby were a first. Rarely did you ever get hurt. Usually the wound healed well enough on its own, but the trauma from being grabbed by the strange man with the grubby hands and then being tossed off the back of the pickup had exacerbated the cut and your healing had come to a halt.
You’d been wary of the dark-haired man who’d found you. He’d had an aura of shame and fear about him, and you’d immediately recoiled. Then, the little white cat had appeared out of nowhere. She was his cat, she’d said in so many words, and the man was good. He fed her, played with her, and the house was warm and safe. You’d relented and taken a good look at him. Warmth had settled into your bones despite your injury and your gut had told you that the white cat was telling the truth. The man with the metal arm was good.
He had carried you inside, cradling you against his chest with the gentlest of touches. He seemed to know what he was doing as he fixed up your leg. At some point after he’d tended to the gash, you’d passed out from the pain and exhaustion.
Now, you were in a soft bed on the floor of his laundry room. You slowly uncurled and managed to prop yourself up without putting too much weight on your injured leg. You had to be careful—if it didn’t heal right, you could get stuck in this form forever, or your human form could suffer the effects of the injury as well.
Alpine lifted her head and blinked sleepily when she sensed your movement.
You’re awake.
“How long has it been since I passed out?” you asked.
She looked towards the back door, where the night sky was visible through several small panes of glass. Only a few hours.
A shout from upstairs made you jump, and Alpine was off like a shot. She raced out of the laundry room through the kitchen, and you heard her scramble down the hall. Another shout piqued your curiosity and you limped after her. Whimpers and a heavy sob were enough of a trail for you to follow.
The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, Alpine clutched against him and his face buried in her fur. He cried as you cautiously hobbled into the bedroom, sticking to the shadows along the walls. Your fur wasn’t dark enough to hide you completely, but it would keep you hidden long enough for you to judge the situation.
Alpine purred soothingly and you listened to the man cry as you looked around the room. The top of the dresser and the nightstand were empty except for a small digital clock and the man’s charging phone. Every space in the house, from what you’d seen, was strangely barren. There was nothing personal to tell you about your rescuer, and while that should have made you uneasy, it only made the sad pit in your stomach grow deeper.
You let out a quiet whimper when a twinge ran down your leg and the man stiffened. He lifted his head from Alpine’s fur and peered around the room.
“Маленький?” he murmured. “Is that you?”
Hesitantly, you crept away from the wall and into the dim light coming from the moon outside. You knew your eyes would glint in the light and he’d be able to find you easier that way. 
Just as you’d suspected, the man’s attention snapped to you as soon as you were in the light. He set Alpine down on the bed and carefully knelt on the hardwood floor, his hand trembling as he reached out to you.
“You shouldn’t be up and moving around so soon,” he chided, and you meowed in irritation.
He hovers, Alpine said from her perch on the bed. You glanced up at her. When he’s worried, he hovers. When he’s scared, he hovers.
You let the man brush his fingers against your fur. He exhaled shakily and you stepped closer until he could run his hand over your back. The feeling was sublime and you arched under his touch. It had been so long since someone had touched you with such gentleness and care, and you knew then that you were a goner. You’d stay with this man for as long as you could.
“Thank you for saving me,” you told him, though you knew he couldn’t understand you in this form. 
The man smiled a little. It didn’t reach his eyes, but he seemed to appreciate the tidbit of interaction you’d given him. In response, you bumped your head against his knee, rubbing against the soft fabric of his pajamas.
“I wonder if you’ve got a name or an owner out there,” he mused. He continued to pet you as you rubbed against his legs. Eventually, you stood still and peered up at Alpine, who had settled with her tail just over the edge of the mattress. She twitched it, knowing you could see, and you narrowed your eyes at her challenge. Alpine was a young cat, and though she was sweet and naive enough to believe that you were just like her, you sensed an air of playfulness and spice about her.
Noticing your change in focus, the man scooped you up and lifted you onto the bed. You wobbled a little on the mattress before batting at Alpine. She flipped over to play and you indulged her, playing as much as you could without putting the health of your leg in jeopardy.
“What’s the man’s name?” you asked, dodging her paw.
Alpine chirped back at you. Bucky, she said. That’s what the men on the phone always call him.
“The men on the phone?” 
They call almost every day. He likes some of them. The others make him sad and angry.
You filed that information away for later use, and you were reaching out to block Alpine’s paw again when Bucky picked her up. He shifted her up near his pillow, then reached for you. On instinct, you backed away, your ears flattening when the metal of his arm glinted in the moonlight filtering in through the window.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Bucky soothed. “I won’t hurt you, remember?”
Another twinge of pain shot up your leg to your hip. You let out a sharp yelp when it twitched and hit the bedpost. Instantly, Bucky’s forehead creased in concern and he eased his flesh hand between your back and the wooden post.
“Easy now. I don’t want you falling off or hurting yourself more. You wanna get down off the bed? Is that what you want?”
You let out a slow breath and stared at him, forcing yourself to relax. You looked down at the floor and then at him in hopes that he would take that as a ‘yes’. When Bucky reached out and moved to pick you up again, you let him. He lowered you down onto the floor without another word. You scooted underneath the bed, closing your eyes when the feeling of being sheltered and safe settled into your bones. 
“She’ll be okay, Alpine.”
Bucky’s voice was barely audible in the silence under the bed and you peeked open an eye, listening.
“She’s gotta be.”
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Series: @almosttoopizza​​
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