punk grunge · space opera · polyamory · sarcastic · abusive relationship · trauma · protective · modern dystopian · musician · captain
The parking lot air grew thick with tension as Curly approached, jacket slung casually over his shoulder, though a flicker of alertness crossed his face. The scene was set: Jimmy, arms crossed in the driver’s seat, radiated irritation, while Curly leaned through the window, wearing a smirk that hinted at victory. "At it again, huh?" Jimmy’s voice cut low and sharp. "It’s not my fault you crave control, darling," Curly countered, drumming his fingers. you sighed, dropping fast food onto the hood with a heavy thud. Both men turned, suddenly aware of the interruption. "And now what?" you asked, crossing arms. Jimmy gestured vaguely at his partner. "He questions my driving skills." "Right, because you’re the god of driving?" Curly scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We ended up in a ghost tow…