Quackbur Oneshots :D

Wings

Quackity POV---Angst?/Fluff-------------------

I tried to fly again.

I know. I know. Stupid idea, but I wanted to try again. I missed soaring through the clouds, hair flowing behind me, feeling free. I missed it. I haven't been able to fly since Schlatt. That bitch ruined my wings from his so called "punishments" for me. Im honestly glad that this asshole died.

Now Im sitting in my office, trying to stretch my wings. They really fucking hurt. I rolled my sholders back, putting a hand to my face. It hurt so much. I had been trying to fly again today for a solid 6 hours straight and the most progress I had made was no more than a prolonged jump. And even when I could actually do that, I ended up crashing directly into a tree. Hitting my wing hard against it. So Im in my office now, on the verge of tears because I was being a dumbass, again.

Knock. Knock.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas? Are you in there?"

"Y-Yes Charlie?"

Stupid fucking tear. I wiped my hand across my face, getting rid of the tear that slipped out of my eye.

"Wilbur from L'Manberg is here."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Um... S-Send him in I guess."

"Okay Quackity from Las Nevadas!"

I sighed, stretching my wings again. I feel fucking pathetic right now.

I glanced up from my desk at the sound of knocking against my door.

"Good evening Quackity. How are you doing?" Wilbur spoke with a sly smirk.

"What do you want Wilbur?" I strech my wings out and in again, wincing.

"Are your wings bothering you?" He spoke, waltzing over to the chair in front of my desk.

"What do you care?" I snap back at him.

"Just curious. What? I can't worry about my poor little rival?"

I glared at him as he still sat there with that stupied smirk on his face.

"You know. I could help you with your wing pain. I can tell that its bothering you a lot Big Q."

"And how would you do that?"

"Just a simple massage. I used to have to massage Phil's wings when I was younger. So, you can rest assured that I wouldn't hurt you."

I scoffed back at him. "I don't need your help." I stood, placing my hands on my desk ahead of me. I suddenly winced, tensing my jaw as I felt my wing hit my chair behind me.

Wilbur walked around my desk and grabbed my wrist.

"What do you want?" I asked, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. My stupid fucking clumsyness.

"Come on. Im giving you that massage."

"What?! No you aren't!"

"Alex," he squeezed my wrist tighter, "Your wings would feel so much better if you would just fucking trust me for once."

I glanced down at his hand on my wrist, feeling my face loose the glare it held a moment ago and get replaced with a slight blush.

"Fine."

"Good. Now, where do you want to do this?"

"Would the couch be good enough?"

I looked back up at him.

"That would be perfectly fine Quackity," he smiled at me.

I just sighed, looking back to the ground as I walked over to the couch and sat down.