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#sorry about answering your ask in the weirdest fucking way possible
fallinforerling · 1 year
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LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 9 - jb
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ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist
ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist
ೃ⁀➷ masterlist
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After being dropped off by Jude’s parents, you stayed on the couch for a good hour thinking about how bizarre the whole day was. You didn’t even want to check your phone right now, so you just left it in your living room and went directly to get a hot shower. 
While undressing, you noticed that you had dinner while wearing Jobe’s jersey. Hah, now it made sense why so many people took double looks at you. Not that you cared.
You just wanted to relax for once. The whole process of getting ready for bed got you in a better mood; so after doing your skincare and drinking some tea, you felt ready to check your messages.
There were some texts from the girls and some from Jobe. You went for Jobe’s first since they were the most recent.
✉️ Jobe: Thank you for the weirdest night ever
✉️ You’re welcome?
✉️ Jobe: No, seriously. I haven’t seen Jude this happy for a while now
✉️ Jobe: He’s close to giggling and kicking his feet like a little girl
✉️ lmao
✉️ Maybe that’s because I told him I was going to unblock him
✉️ Jobe: Did you?
✉️ Not yet…
✉️Jobe:  Well, maybe you should
✉️ Oh my god??? What’s happening???
✉️ Jobe: I talked to him, just… Maybe? I won’t force you tho
✉️ I’ll consider it
✉️ Jobe: That’s good enough for me… Have a good night, darling
✉️ Good night, sweetie
Odd. What could possibly be happening that Jobe was (kinda) defending his brother? You didn’t blame him, obviously. But… Again, odd. With a shrug, you hopped on the girl’s group chat, which had lots of messages from hours ago.
✉️ Nikki: Weeeeell…. I was casually checking the TikToks people were posting about the game… You know, to see how it was going
✉️ Nikki: THEN… Girl, you went a bit viral agaaaaain. You appeared on the big screen and SOME people saw the little interaction Mr. Jobe and you had. The football fandom is going crazy again, a lot of people are debating if you’re his girlfriend or Gio’s girlfriend
✉️ Mia: Since none of them had said a word about the rumors… People are kinda taking sides
✉️ Mia: I also saw that after the first half some girls were looking for you because they were near your seat and you were gone. Then they noticed you were sitting next to THE Jude Bellingham and went on trying to figure out if you were his girlfriend instead while taking videos and photos to POST?!
✉️ Nikki: MESSY
✉️ Oh god… I just saw this… WHY ME, LORD?!
✉️ It’s like… For each day of peace I get, ten days of absolute chaos are piled up on my door
✉️ Nikki: It’s the drama, the fun, the footballers, the fame
✉️ Nikki: Our beautiful little WAG
✉️ Mia: If it’s not with douchie, it’s with that Gio guy
✉️ Mia: Heʼs hot af
✉️ Mia???? 
✉️ Do you want his number?
✉️ Nikki: Omg, Miaaaa
✉️ Mia: Both of you… Shut up. This isn’t about me finding Gio the hottest man alive, this is about YOU getting shipped with half of the footballers you know
✉️ Don’t remind me of that, please
✉️ I’ll better get some sleep before the vein on my forehead explodes, bye my loves
✉️ Nikki: Bye baby! Sweet dreams
✉️ Mia: Score a goal!
✉️ Fuck you lmao
Great. You were never getting rid of that stupid “popularity” among the football fanbase… Well, at least among the people that cared about the player’s love lives. They knew your face now, even if the subject of who your “boyfriend” was died down. You were out there forever for people to see and have an opinion.  
Time to sleep.
You were on your way to turn off the lights and wash your cup when the telecommunicator started to ring; you almost let out a scream. Who on Earth was ringing your house at two A.M?! With your heart beating like crazy, you ran to answer and yell to the jerk on the other side. 
“Miss! I’m so sorry to bother you this late but…” Mel’s words were interrupted by some loud male voices. “There’s a couple of gentlemen asking me to allow them into your floor…” Oh, poor Mel. 
You couldn't scream to your sweet doorman Mel.
“Mel! Hi... Gentlemen? As... Men asking to come here?” This was unbelievable.
“Yes, uh. They'd been here for at least ten minutes. I'd tried to persuade them into leaving but nothing works."
“Do you happen to recognize these gentlemen?” Your gut feeling was very reliable, so you kinda knew who it was. 
“Well… I’m not so sure about it, but I think that’s… Bukayo Saka and Jude Bellingham, miss.” 
He surely knew them at first sight, but it was adorable he was trying to dissimulate it.
“Oh, my god…” You sighed. When was this going to end? “Just… Let them in, Mel.”
“As you wish.” 
You wanted to punch someone so bad right now. But you just stayed there, by your door, waiting for what seemed to be the night of never end.
No less than five minutes later, your door was being punched at. Because that wasn't a knock. You considered for a moment letting them outside, but you weren't going to sleep if you did that. 
When you opened it, the silliest sight welcomed you. There was Bukayo, a mutual friend that you haven't seen in very long, carrying (if you can call that carrying) a very drunk Jude. How did you know he was drunk? Well, he was (seemingly) asleep against Bukayo's side, only kept from falling because of his friend's arm around his waist. 
“Okay...” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “This is... Something.”
“So sorry to do this at such late hours... He's been so insistent. He got a bit too drunk and started to ask about where his girlfriend was and that he wanted to come home.” Bukayo's eyes went blank, sighing. He seemed pretty sober to you. “I tried to persuade him into visiting you tomorrow, but this guy never takes no for an answer.”
“That sounds like him.” You smiled at him apologetically. Because what else could you do? No one knew you two had broken up, and this wasn't the best moment to break the news either. “Let's take him to the couch, I'll help you.”
You got closer, feeling the smell of alcohol reeking from Jude. Iugh. You took one of his arms, putting it around your shoulders. Hah, and just a couple of hours earlier you were trying to avoid just that. With a lot of effort, both of you laid him out the best you could. That didn't mean that it was done in the most careful way. So he woke up, looking at you and then at Bukayo. 
“Am I dreaming, mate?”
“Nah, fam. I did what you asked me; I took you to your girl.” He palmed Jude's arm and then smiled at you. “Now I'm out, this whole thing tired me up.”
“That's okay. Thank you for taking care of him.” You gave him a little hug after guiding him to the door. “I hope we can catch up another time without this type of thing going on.”
“Me too.” He smiled again, looking as sweet as ever, and then turned and left. 
Now you were alone with...
“Darling?” Oh no, not the darling. 
You turned, looking at Jude, who was struggling to keep himself sat upright. He was looking at you with the most drunken-hazed eyes ever, accompanied by the biggest of smiles.
“Yes, Jude?” It was better not to argue with a drunk person this late at night.
“Can I tell you something?”  
“Yeah, sure.” You got closer, sitting on the carpet. Not too close, but not too far away from him. “What is it?”
“I'm an idiot. I'm so dumb, I got drunk tonight, and I miss you.” The smile left his face, but he was still looking at you with happy eyes. “Every time I see your face, I remember that I'm mad dumb for breaking up with you. Because I still love you. A lot.” He let himself fall back into the couch pillows, sighing. “I don't know why I panicked so much a month ago. It was a stupid chat.”
“Sorry?” Your heart was beating fast because of his past confessions, but this new phrase caught your attention way more. “What chat?”
He wasn't looking at you. He was just looking up at the ceiling, like he was trying to remember something.
“Just some stupid chat the coach gave us before you arrived at Dortmund that day... He was talking about how we, as professionals, had to settle in earlier so we didn't get carried away because of all the money and parties... And the drugs. He said that there was a reason for footballers to get married and have kids at such young ages.” He sighed again, looking tired. “And I knew he was talking to the younger part of the team, which included me... I just... I felt like I was being pressured to marry immediately... I got so carried away with my thoughts that I panicked when I saw you. You make me so happy, but I didn't feel ready for any of the coach's options.”  
“So... You broke up with me instead of talking?” Woah. “That's fucked up, Jude.”
“I know... And I'm not asking you to forgive me or... Get back together with me... Even though that's what I have been wishing since I said the words, but... I wanted you to know.”
He didn't seem drunk at all now. 
“Thank you for telling me.” That's all you could say for now. Too much information to take in. 
“Would you have said yes?” He asked after a few minutes of silence, still looking at the ceiling. 
“To what?”  
“Marrying me.”
You felt like someone punched your heart and took the air out of your body. At the same time. 
“I won't answer that.” Mostly because you didn't know the answer. “Get some sleep.” You got up, looking down at him. 
“Why not?”
You took a long look at his face. You gave him a little smile, reaching for his cheek with one of your hands. You caressed it with the tip of your fingers before regretting touching him at all. He closed his eyes, but opened them when you retrieved your hand. 
“Because there's no point in answering something that's not going to happen.”
He frowned, looking offended for a second before relaxing his face again. 
“Well, I haven't asked you.”
“And you shouldn't, because that's something you do when you're sure about it... And not drunk.” You took one of the covers you kept close, tucking him on the sofa so he couldn't move. “And when you're in a relationship, of course. Now sleep or I'll kick you out of my house.”
“Okay...” He appeared so similar to a kid now, all flustered and with big eyes. “I'm sorry for all of this.”
“I forgive you.”
And that was true. You forgave him for all of it. You couldn't hold a grudge forever. It wasn't healthy. 
“Really?” Hope sparkled in his eyes. It made your heart ache.
“I promise.”
Then you got closer and kissed his forehead to prove him right about your words. He gave you the biggest of smiles, again, before falling asleep right there. You gave him a last caress on the cheek before turning the lights off and walking towards your bedroom.
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You thought it was impossible to get any sleep after what happened, but the moment your head touched the pillow, you were out. The stress was draining your energy. You blacked out until the next morning, when a knock on the door woke you up. 
You remembered everything that had happened just a couple of hours ago. There was Jude, knocking on your door like he was a stranger. Somehow, it felt like it. 
“Come on in.” You said after a few seconds, rubbing your face.
The door slowly opened up. Jude was still covered in the blanket, holding it together with one hand below his chin while the other rubbed his eye. Pretty much the same as you. You couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. 
“Good morning.” Even his voice had a little hint of shyness.
“Did you sleep well?” Was all you said while you got up and walked towards the bathroom.
“Yes...” He followed you, just two steps behind. “Thank you.”
“Stop saying 'thank you', just come here and brush your teeth.” You grabbed one of the brand new toothbrushes you kept in the drawer, offering it to him. 
He seemed so scared yet happy about your behavior while taking the toothbrush. You weren't fooling anyone, it was fun to play with his mind a little bit. Payback.
He stood there watching you brush your teeth, wash your face, and brush your hair. It was very funny.
“I'm not going to suddenly take a knife out and follow you around the house with it, Jude. Get cleaned or you won't get breakfast.” You got out of the bathroom, smiling at him when he just blinked at you. “All yours.” And then you left him alone in there.
You entered the kitchen, ready for some breakfast. You heard the bathroom sink go on and off for a few minutes. Meanwhile, you decided to make some scrambled eggs with ham and toast some beagles. It was the best you could offer with so many thoughts taking most of your concentration. 
When you were finishing the second plate, Jude appeared by the door and stayed there. He looked at the plates with surprise, like it was actually impossible for you to be making breakfast for him. 
“It's getting cold.” You offered him one of the plates that was already sitting on the mini table you had available. 
“Are you preparing me for my sudden death, darling?” He sat in front of you, waiting for you to take the first bite. He always did that. 
“Not yet.” You took a bite off the beagle, smiling when he did the same. “Maybe after I eat.” 
He smiled but didn't say anything. You ate in silence, looking at each other from time to time. You felt different around him now that you knew what caused him to break up with you. It wasn't that you suddenly forgot about everything else or how mad you felt, but it made things easier. You wanted to talk. Now there was a real reason for it. 
“I'll wash the dishes.” Before you could say anything, he took both plates and stood up. 
“Go ahead... And after you finish them, we'll talk.”
“Do I make some tea first?” 
“Yeah, that'll be nice.” 
He seemed to understand what was crossing your mind, so he made the tea quietly and walked to the living room. You followed him. 
“Well...” You took a sip of the tea. “Do you remember what you said last night?” 
“I do...” He squirmed on the seat. He was nervous. “I wanted to tell you all that sober but... I fuck up things quite regularly.” 
You smiled, shaking your head. 
“Okay, it's good for the sake of this conversation that you remember everything. Now, when I said that I forgive you, I meant it. But that doesn't mean I'm not angry or hurt by all of it.” He nodded. “I'm still disappointed about how poorly you managed the whole thing; you just needed to talk to me, and the breakup would never have happened.”
“I know.” He covered his face, sighing. “I'm an idiot.” 
“Yeah! Look at me, I spent a month thinking you didn't love me anymore, and it turns out that you just were a bastard that didn't know how to talk to his girlfriend.” You slightly pushed his arm with your foot. “You said you didn't love me as you used to... Why?” 
“I don't know.” He groaned, taking his hands off his face. “I guess I wanted you to hate me. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He grabbed your ankle, dragging your leg closer to his body. “I think I love more than before, actually.” 
You didn't say anything for a while, you just looked at him for the longest time, trying to figure out what to do next. 
“I'm very mad at you.” You took a deep breath. “That club thing you did after we broke up is still fresh in my mind. I can't pretend everything is the same just because we talked.” 
“I know. I'm a jerk for doing that. I just wanted to see if... If I could act like I was okay. I wanted to feel okay. And couldn't accept that I regretted breaking up with you the second you left.” 
“Always your big ego, huh?” You laughed. “Don't take this as if we just got back together. We're... We're friends from now on.” 
“We are friends for now.” He said, smiling. “Because I'll do everything that's in my power to win you back.”
“Whatever you say, Bellingham.”
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nexusnyx · 2 years
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ultraviolet | steddie x you
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PAIRING: Eddie Munson x F!Sinclair!Reader x Steve Harrington
WC: 7K
SUMMARY: A piece of garment leads Eddie to your room, then deeper into your life.
Consequently, Steve comes too. Although crazier things like the Upside Down happened, dealing with the two of them feels like an out of body experience.
OR; Eddie heard what you had to say about his clothing choices and ends up in your room. Then ends up taking you to one, two, several dates. That surprises him, but not as much as figuring out that you thought Steve Harrington liked him. And that you were okay with that. What world is he living in?
WARNING(s): Smut. Minors, DNI. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, uploaded, or distributed elsewhere.
A/N: Canon divergent from S4. I just sort of… shoved Reader in the middle of Hawkins somewhat and threw her in the Fruity Four. She’s as fruity as them. Trust me.
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PART ONE ☄️ PART THREE
True to his word, Eddie took you out.
"What time should I pick you up, hm?"
If the whole experience with him in the bedroom had felt like a dream, the whole day after felt like some weird-weed-induced Nirvana. Lucas realized how 'weirdly happy' you were during breakfast, Erica gave you looks and made suggestive questions all morning, and you didn't even bother skiing away from their looks and remarks. Too content for that.
Eddie called at the end of the afternoon and you were thankful to be the one to pick it up.
"Well—I can't really go many places yet, but I figured we could at least eat at Vale Lake before coming here to watch a nice horror movie?"
"A 'nice' horror movie."
"Don't giggle, I don't know why you're giggling—I've seen you watching The Exorcist, remember? It was freaky. You were enjoying it." Eddie sounded so happy that you were grinning and giggling.
What had that boy done to you?
"It's a great movie!"
"See. Exactly. I haven't seen this movie yet, so I don't if it's great, but I know at least 'nice' it is. Erica vouched for it." There was the sound of something knocking and things falling on the other side and Eddie's low-muttered 'shit, fuck' before his breath was closer to the line again. "Sorry. Anyway. Delicious take-out at Vale Lake and horror movie. What time should I pick you up, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.
You were about to answer him when Lucas showed up in your line of view with the weirdest 'o' face possible. "Who are you talking to?" He asked, exasperated.
Covering the end of the phone, you pierced him with a look. "None of your business. Piss off. Thank you." You took off your hand. "7 is great."
"I'll be there tomorrow then. At seven."
"Okay."
"Bye, doll face."
"Bye, handsome."
Lucas stared at you, mouth gaping in shock and looking more lost than a fish in the desert. "Handsome?" He shrieked.
You walked past your brother with a hand clasping at his shoulder and only one thought in mind:
I need to find out what to wear tomorrow.
☄️
Keeping expectations low was a good part of your life for many, many reasons.
It was the easiest way of avoiding headaches, heartache, and problems. 
Living that way meant you surfed through most of school and all of high school unscathed from most problems—it landed you with few friends, as well, but you were content with the ones you had. It also gave you little room for your anxiety to create vines and gripped you with things that were out of your control. Maybe that's why you managed to deal with your younger siblings needing help to save literally all of Hawkins with their weird, yet loving super-powered friend El. Maybe it's why there were things that felt crazier than the only boy you ever looked at twice and considered for a split second that he might be looking at you too actually being into you.
Giving you not only the time of the day, but proving that you were right.
"Definitely," Eddie nodded. "Oh, I totally had a thing for you. You really didn't know?" He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief with a smile on his face. "Do you remember Kev?"
"Our old DM?"
"Yeah." Eddie put one of the chips in his mouth, setting both elbows on the table and leaning closer to you in the process. At first, you thought it was a thing of your brain—Eddie's newfound confidence. "The week he graduated. Remember how weird he was acting?"
"Uh. Vaguely?" Kev had been a good DM, and his last week had been somewhat... eccentric, but nothing that sparked your memory. He put Eddie's character through the wringer a lot more, but you always imagined it was his weird way of saying goodbye. They were the closest ones outside the party.
"That was him trying to convince me to be a little braver," Eddie explained. He grabbed the milkshake from your hands, wrapping his lips around the straw with his eyes still on you, then sipped. "Wanted me to tell you I had a massive, stupid crush on you. But—" He shrugged both shoulders. "Didn't really work. And—looking back on it, I should probably call Kev and thank him for putting up such a good effort, but. I wasn't—I am not good at flirting with girls. With boys? Fuck yeah, I'm—"
Then, Eddie stopped. 
His eyes widened, and you felt the familiar tingle of dread, fear, fear fearfear—
"You're a pro?" you added, giving him an encouraging smile. You stole the milkshake back from his hands — which were shaking, you noted — and sipped the creamy, chocolate monstrosity. It felt so good with the high you still had from sharing the joint with Eddie, and it pushed down the rapid crescendo of your heartbeat that Eddie would feel anything less than welcomed by you.
He closed his mouth, body a lot less erratic than usual, and looked at you with both hands in the air. "There's... a lot less freaking out than I was expecting there. About this." He ran both hands through his hair. "Shit. I think I'm not even high anymore," he laughed nervously. "That slipped out. I'm not—usually I'm not this comfortable around girls—a girl." He looked up at you, his bangs falling a little in front of his eyes. "You're actually... calm. Chill. About this."
When you were thirteen years old, Olivia Venatti sat next to you during Science, and you looked at her for the entirety of the class. "Uh..." you cleared your throat, remembering exactly the fear Eddie felt now. The only person who knew about you was Erica, and now Robin. "I liked... Venatti. For like... two years?"
Telling people was always weird. You knew your hands were cold and shaking now, too. Clammy with sweat.
"Ollie?" Eddie shrieked. Then he burst out laughing. "Oh my god. She's a total nerd! A goodie-two-shoes princess, holy shit! Really?" He asked. "You're all—" he waved his hands frantically in your general direction. "Spikes and leather and mean scowling and badass one-liner replies with the—the chains, and the wild haircuts, and..." Then, Eddie stopped. He looked you up and down, taking in all of your outfit that had been meticulously picked out. The black bell-bottom jeans with your favorite band's t-shirt that you had turned into a cropped. "You look so good," he whispered.
It sounded like he was talking to himself.
Eddie shook his head and walked around the table, sitting on the tiny seat next to you, and placed both hands on your waist.
His eyes were always so expressive. How could people look at Eddie and not see everything you and the boys did? How could they miss the fun and the goodness mixed with all the freaky stuff? Eddie was a freak, sure, but not in ways that people would know unless they were really lucky. Most of the time, all you could get out of him was the excited, rambling and nerdy guy.
"What are you thinkin' about?" He asked, voice low and closer to you than before.
He leaned his upper body slowly, eyes searching every inch of your face for something. "Just... how nice you are," you answered truthfully, even if it burned your cheeks.
Watching red paint Eddie too was worth it. He chuckled through the embarrassment. "Well, thank you, Sinclair." He bowed his head without breaking eye contact. "Not many would agree with you right now," he scrunched his nose, smile still on his face.
"That's exactly it, they don't fucking know you." It angered you. All the people who passed by him on the street, pointing fingers even though all the charges had been dropped, and Hopper did his best to clean his name. "They act like they were there. They're so arrogantly sure in their stupidity and it drives me nuts! I hate the way they think they can just come to you and—"
"Hey, hey," one of Eddie's hands came up from your waist to cup your face. "That doesn't matter."
"It does, Eddie." You leaned in closer, resting your forehead against his. Eddie did a good job of hiding how much people's shittiness got to him, but you watched Fall ending with a toll on him. Eddie had one D&D party since all of the Henry fiasco at the beginning of the Season, and you saw the difference. Saw him looking at the seat Erica vacated. He did a good job of talking to you, and you knew he spoke with Steve who was now a friend of his, but moving trailers didn't change the hysteria still going on around Hawkins. "You deserve a lot better than this."
"The fact that you think so 's pretty good enough for me for now." He pulled back so he could look you in the eye, and you usually hated any hands close to your hair, but Eddie only cupped your nape and caressed the skin there—plus. It was Eddie. "I like that."
"I like you," you breathed out, fearlessly. Eddie deserved to hear it. Eddie deserved to hear many things, and that's why you jumped at the chance of re-joining the D&D parties when Lucas asked you to. Even if it led you to harbor a fugitive, engaging in too-crazy-for-words plans in the Underworld. After a deep breath, you opened your eyes and saw his big grin inches away from your lips.
"God, I really need to call Kev," Eddie laughed.
Then he smashed his lips on yours for the first time that night.
The first of many, thanks to all the gods.
Eddie's lips were sort of addicting.
Everything in Eddie was, if you were being honest. Sure, you had a lot of good, badass things happening to you—did some pretty badass things yourself, even, but having Eddie Munson whimper in your mouth was definitely a top three. You were usually more on the cynic, sarcastic side, but a moment like this asked for a good dose of drama.
"If you stop kissing me, I think I'm gonna die," you whispered to him.
Eddie laughed. "And here I was thinking I'm dramatic."
"Oh, you are. You're whiny, too." You smiled. "It's amazing."
"You..." instead of finishing his sentence, Eddie just kissed you some more.
☄️
Your first date with Eddie broke all of your ideas of what a 'date' was.
Having no expectations with him seemed to be useless—Eddie seemed keen on making you realize that he was there, and he enjoyed being there. He knew you well by now—knew how you expected nothing of people. Even if you two hadn't been friends back when you were both in high school, you attended the same party and were at least amicable. He knew some of your life story, same as you knew his.
Eddie liked you anyway.
It felt like a dream at first, then it felt crazy, then it just felt like heaven.
Your parents needed one day, a single damn day having him over for dinner to be won over.
The reason for the dinner had been, of course, that Lucas opened his big, stupid mouth.
On your way to your third date with Eddie, he simply appeared in front of you on the bottom of the stairs with that stern, furrowed brows look. "I know where you're going," he stated as a conversation started, and you held back a snort.
God, Erica was right. His 'I'm-their-brother' syndrome was getting out of hand. "Lu, you were literally sitting by my side when he asked me out."
"I don't like this!" He exclaimed, gesturing to your entire outfit. "I don't like any of this!"
"Good! It's not for you to like, dingus!"
"He's older than you!" He exclaimed when you passed right through him, following you around the house.
"Do I need to remind you of how old I am, Lucas?" You put a hand to your hip. "I certainly don't need your permission for jack shit. And you're his friend! You know Eddie!"
"I know him yeah, but not this much. I don't—I've never spent time with him."
Your heart squeezed, and you took a deep breath to let all the desire to fight him exhale through your windows. Lucas might be an annoying brother, but he's always had his heart in the right place, even if it took him a second sometimes. You put both hands on his shoulders, then smiled. "Then spend time with him, idiot. I get you're doing the whole—brooding thing. Where you pretend you're okay practicing basketball on your own, and you're kinda moved on from our nerdy games, and you don't mind spending time with the boys only at the mall and stuff and you don't bite your fists when they're talking about how sick the party that Dustin hosted was—but they love you. We all love you. And we'd love to have you if you change your mind. I'll even make sure it's Eddie who hosts so you can say if Mike's better or not."
Lucas stayed silent, too stunned to speak for a minute.
He closed his mouth eventually, then looked anywhere but your eyes.
"You said... I know Dustin and Mike, like—idolize him," he rolled his eyes. "But they're not dating him, so I need to know. Is he nice to you?"
This time, you rolled your eyes fondly. "Yes, dude. He's really nice to me. You know I wouldn't go out with any idiot. Specially someone who isn't nice to me."
"Good," Lucas nodded. "Really. Good. 'Cause... you're... I know I don't... talk a lot. To people. But." Lucas gulped. "I could always count on you. And... you come to sit with me when I'm reading for Max... even if it's really boring. So. You deserve that. Someone who's really nice to you. 'Cause you rock."
Awn.
You hugged him tightly then, and rushed off to your date when you heard the honking of Eddie's new pick-up truck outside.
If you knew Lucas's big mouth would open up to tell your damn parents where you were that night, though, you might've thrown a wedgie after the hug.
Then again, he apologized, did your laundry and folded as an apology and, despite all your worries for Eddie's sake under the scrutiny of your parents, Eddie did amazing during dinner. He even got along with your dad talking about music, much to your surprise.
Your point stood proven: It was impossible to know Eddie and not like him.
☄️
"Oh—Sinclair. Your brother showed up at the D&D party today. You had anything to do with that?" Eddie asked, smiling at you from the other side of the living room.
He was sprawled across his sofa, recently cleaned by you and Robin at the move, while Robin and Vickie laid together, cuddled on the floor on top of the new rug — a gift from you to Eddie's and his Uncle's new trailer — and Steve sat on the armchair.
"Why d'you call me Sinclair when we're around people?" you mumbled, too high to think or speak too loud right now. "'s so weird. Why d'you call me Sinclair, huh, Munson?"
Vickie giggled. She laid between Robin's legs, her back to Robin's chest, and she looked red all over. Eyes, hair, cheeks. Such a cutie.
"Don't see why you're giggling, Victoria, when you stutter every time your girlfriend calls you 'baby'."
"Ah, ah—don't be mean to Vickie, baby," Eddie intervened.
The effect was immediate, as always—baby. You felt the heat in your cheeks, followed by the laughter of everyone around the room looking at you. "Fuck you, Edward."
"Hmmmm. Don't think everyone present is into voyeurism, baby," he continued to tease, much to your utter embarrassment.
You left the blanket nest you were sitting on the floor and went in direction of the kitchen to grab some more beer.
It was all fun and games, but you were still unfamiliar with being so flustered around others. Touchy, too. Eddie was respectful of that. He allowed you to initiate any physical displays of affection when your friends were around and refrained to teasing you when there were more people other than you two in the room.
He also hadn't done anything to you since that night at your house.
It might be driving you insane. Maybe you were climbing up the walls. Touching yourself more times than usual to the thoughts of him, memories of that night, his smell still lingering in your clothes. Maybe you were feeling insane being hot and bothered almost twenty-four-seven.
Watching him rehearsing his guitar had been torture.
On the first date, he had given you his exams like promised: all clean. You had done the same courtesy, but nothing further than that had happened. It was like he meant it when he said he wanted to do this right, and maybe he regretted it had started by already fucking you stupid. Or maybe he just regretted fucking you at all.
Suddenly, you felt arms wrapping around your waist and got startled for a moment before melting in the embrace, surrounded by the cologne and the musky, smoky smell lingering in his clothes.
"You didn't come back," he whined, putting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your neck. "They want to watch some cheesy rom-com and Stevie and I are losing the battle. You better come back if you don't wanna be bored outta your mind for the next two hours."
"I'd just bother you," you sing-songed, turning around in his arms.
"Oh, is that how it is?" Eddie asked, his arm around your waist hugging your waist closer. His hand on your face did the thing where he ran his fingertips on the bones of your face and his eyes followed where his fingers traced. "You're gonna bother me?"
"Yup." Your eyes closed under his ministrations. Eddie made you feel like you were made of butter sometimes. "You told me I could."
"That I did," he whispered.
When his mouth touched yours, your mind did the same thing as your body and melted in the sea of him.
He kissed you lazily, slowly, so slowly in fact, that you started feeling the effects of it tingling on your extremities. Whenever Eddie went slow you started to feel that—your body coming alive, burning up slowly as if he was a magician who summoned fire magic and it slowly started to cook you. Invade your senses.
If Eddie was what he claimed — a disaster bisexual, just like you, darling — than that meant he was a disaster with one of the genders, and you couldn't fathom how that could be true. Not when his kisses turned you inside out.
When you whimpered, clinging with fists to his t-shirt, Eddie pulled back, a smile on his face and his nose rubbing on your cheeks, then the rest of your face. "Come back with me?"
"You said you're a disaster bisexual," you replied instead, head stuck in your thought. "That's not true. It's annoyingly not true. You're this—suave, smooth fucker with anyone. Where's your disaster?"
Eddie pulled back that second with shock, his whole upper body going back a few inches so he could look at you.
Stare, like you'd grown another head or suddenly started speaking Elvish.
"What?!" He laughed. "What do you mean I'm not a disaster? It took me years just to have the courage to ask you out. Have you ever seen me around a girl? Babe." He laughed harder. "Oh my god, I'm literally, like—the definition of disaster around women. Mostly 'cause I like men more. And women kinda terrify me. But mostly 'cause I'm usually more attracted to men, so I don't usually have to, like—talk to you. And then when I do, I just. I don't know what to say. What to do. Women pay a lot more attention. You have these—direct yet indirect way of saying stuff, and I don't know what to do with that. I'm just there being an idiot, twirling my hair, kicking my feet, giggling and trying to make you giggle, then the next thing I know, we're besties, whatever that means."
Now you could see it. "Okay." Eddie did twirl his hair a lot around you when you joined the party again. Played with his locks, his rings, too. "I see it now."
"Good." He pecked your lips. "Now let's go. Steve's alone with those two menaces."
It took you, Eddie and Steve about twenty minutes to convince Robin and Vickie to pick something different.
It was worth it, at least.
The movie was good, and everyone had a good time.
At the end of the night, something happens.
Something clicks.
You're sitting on the couch putting all your stuff back inside your backpack when you see Steve hanging awkwardly at the trailer door after having said goodbye to you, looking as lost as a puppy.
His eyes are too trained on Eddie to notice you watching the scene unfold, which makes it ten times worse:
He's staring at Eddie's hair that's pulled up half in a bun, a few strands lose in front of his face, eyes gazing between the hair and the sleepiness in Eddie's eyes.
Steve Harrington looks so painfully lost that you feel your heart burning for him.
Eddie's the one to break the silence with a "You can keep it, you know?"
Steve blinks a couple of times. "Huh?"
Eddie's hand reaches to the vest Steve's wearing—the one you saw him throw Steve back in the Upside Down 'for your modesty, dude' and that Steve arrived wearing today. The vest you saw Eddie's eyes lingering on.
Only now it clicks why.
"Oh." Steve looks down at the vest with more color in his face than before. "Right. I came with it to remember to give it back to you, but—"
"But you can keep it."
Steve chuckles. "Alright." He clears his throat. "Thanks for having me. Again."
"No problem, dude."
Dude. Steve's eyebrows furrow a bit, and you think, Oh, Harrington.
He seems to make up his mind after that, because Steve goes in for a hug with the sort of uncertain awkwardness of someone who's doing something they're not used to doing, and by the way Eddie takes a second before reciprocating, you imagine it must be the first time.
You avert your eyes, feeling like you're stepping in a moment.
No—knowing you'd be spying on a moment if you kept on looking.
You let your mind fly away as they whisper their final goodbyes, and something different starts blooming in your chest.
The realization that all those times when Eddie called Stevie 'big boy', or 'pretty face', or 'darling' and Steve huffed, puffed, rolled his eyes with a fond smile—those might be him panicking more than annoyed. Averting his attention as to why he liked it so much.
Oh, Steve.
I feel you.
Eddie's hard not to like.
This time, the thought brings you fear.
☄️
The next date you two have is at a Carnival that Hopper and the new Mayor organize.
It's a nice attempt to bring some much-needed sense of community to Hawkins, which has had its fair share of traumatic experiences these past years, and welcome the new and crazy arrivals of people moving in later in the same ratio as people moved out. New people who were intrigued by the small town with a lively life of a big city. People who looked for excitement.
The Carnival was nice, but your thoughts, not as much.
You needed Eddie to know something.
Needed him to understand how much you liked him, even if it cost you one of the best things ever.
"You're looking wayyyyyy too good to be pouting like that," Eddie said when he gave you the bat. "Here. His name would be Ozzy but that's too on the face, so you pick. What's his name?"
Eddie just won you a present after shooting all the hoops in the right place, and yet here you were, thinking about his eyes lingering on Steve arriving with Dustin in the carnival. The way Eddie gulped at the sight of skinny jeans before turning back to you, his head shaking and his eyes suddenly focusing entirely on you.
"Hmmmm..." you hummed thoughtfully. "How about... Mr. Bourne?"
"Mr. Bourne," Eddie repeated. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders and started walking away from the booth. "I like it."
"Eddie."
"Yeah?"
"Can we get something to drink and go to your car for a bit?" I need to talk sounded too serious, but you needed to get away from the constant stimuli and recognizable faces passing you two to talk. Plus—it had been long enough that some people started recognizing him now, and you wanted to get him away from the looks a bit.
"Yeah, sure," Eddie nodded.
You bought both of you two glasses of Coke and a sick pack, then went with him back to the pick-up truck with Mr. Bourne tucked underneath your arm and his fingers intertwined in your other one.
Eddie got inside the car and took out the M&Ms he saved inside his jacket, shaking it like a rattle. "Beer and chocolate?"
"God, yes," you opened two bottles while he opened the M&Ms, and you two shared the items.
After you chugged almost half of your beet in one go and ate some of the chocolate he offered, you cleared your throat. "So."
Eddie froze on the spot, hand full of M&Ms halfway to his mouth. "Why did the mood change? What happened?" He lowered his hand. "Did I do something?"
"What?!" You put your free hand on his cheek, and shook your head, smiling in disbelief at him. Of course that's where his mind jumps to. This is why you wanted to be alone. "Eddie." You pecked his lips. "You did nothing wrong."
He took a deep breath, face still close to yours, then pouted. "You sure?"
You pecked his cute, plump lips one more time. "Swear."
He licked his lips after the kiss, then smiled, nudging your hand with his face, nuzzling it like a cat. "'kay. Got scared for a second."
God, this— You kissed him, properly this time.
Eddie's had too much taken away from him.
Normal childhood, loving parents, a chance to do things right because the government has no fucks to give to abused children and their socioeconomic needs. Eddie deserved the fucking world.
Which is why you could never deny him anything.
Not even options.
Not when they were options in happiness.
When you finally pulled back, you tried gathering the right words to say what you meant. "Eddie..." you breathed in deep. "Okay. You know that I like you, right?"
Eddie smiled wide enough for his dimples to show. You loved that smile. "Yeah."
"Right."
"I like you so much... that I don't ever, ever want you to stop something that would make you happy... just because of me." The confusion was clear on his face, and you could see why. With words as vague as yours, anyone could interpret in any way. You sighed. "Listen. What I'm trying to find the right words to say, but possibly won't 'cause there's no right way of saying this, is... I see the way you look at Harrington. And, most importantly, I see the way he looks at you."
Now Eddie really was frozen.
"What?" He breathed out.
"You're like... his bisexual awakening, Eddie," you shrugged. "And he's gonna come to terms with how him staring at your fingers or wearing your vest and wanting to look good to see you is not so... platonic, as he may seem to think it is, really soon. And when that realization comes... if you want to do something about it... you can. If you want. I just—I don't want you to think you can't because of me. Because—I'm okay with it. With you... exploring your options. I just don't wanna be the reason why you stop doing something you want to do, especially if it's something that's gonna make you happy, and..." here goes nothing. "I won't make you choose."
Eddie's stunned into silence, so you use that as an opportunity to find all the words you want and let them out.
"I won't ask you to choose at any point between him and me, because... you deserve to be happy, Eds." Your smile is as genuine as the words, and for some reason, you feel like crying. You were never as truthful and honest as you're being with him now, and it's all because Eddie deserves it. "And if you're happy with kissing Steve 'The Hair' Harrington—then," you shrugged your shoulders. "Good for him. You're a very talented kisser."
It took him another few heartbeats in silence before Eddie moved a single inch.
He took a deep, shuddery breath. His whole body shivered, as if his soul is coming back to it, then he looked at you.
Bored holes into your face with those deep brown eyes. Found his way into your soul, where he made a home with the smile that split his face.
"Are you sure of what you're saying?" He asked.
You nodded. "Yeah." I'm scared as fuck. I'm gonna lose you to Steve Harrington. I won't make you choose, but he might. "I want you to be happy."
"You make me happy," Eddie replied immediately.
The words bloomed inside of you. You smiled back at him, feeling lighter than three seconds ago. "That means the world to me, Eds," you breathed out, feeling your throat tightening again.
"God, you're—" 
One more time, Eddie chose of kissing you instead of saying what is it that you are.
His lips felt like heaven, and you remember when they felt like a dream.
You pray that when Steve Harrington comes to his realization, Eddie's giddy smiles and breathy giggles won't go back to that: only a dream.
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piratespencil · 8 months
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OKAY SO I gotta admit, One Piece (the anime/manga) has always been a thing that I've like, tangentially engaged with but never actually read/watched or followed the story in any substantial capacity, especially given it's so LONG XD That being said, it has had my intrigue for a loooooooong time so I'm consulting you as something of an Expert to ask, how much would you recommend it? (I've been dodging my inevitable fate as a Sanji girlie for so long :P)
I love that I have the title of One Piece Expert haha. XD
I would definitely say that One Piece was a very formative piece of media for me. My early pre-tumblr deviantArt days were very One Piece-heavy and I'm still friends with people I met thru One Piece (hey @muffintonic!!). Usopp remains one of my favourite characters from anything ever.
That being said, it's been years since I've actually been up to date with the anime or manga. (Tho I have been casually following the plot through some OP mutuals I still have... I keep telling myself that someday I'm gonna catch up on OP again lol...) And like, there are some issues I have with it - it's a manga from the 90s, it's inevitably going to fall into some unfortunate tropes, and I also generally preferred the pre-timeskip arcs to the post-timeskip ones.
BUT One Piece still has such a special place in my heart and I think it's worth it despite some flaws. It's funny and silly and weird but it will also break your heart sometimes, which is what the best stories do. It's about found family! It's about being anti-establishment! It's about following the people you love into the depths of hell and about reminding people who have been cast aside by society that they deserve to live with dignity and respect! It's about pirates and adventure and people having the weirdest fucking superpowers you could possibly come up with. It's great.
It's long as hell but that just means that you'll never run out of content. (There are movies and filler episodes and like. Everything you could ever want from this franchise tbh.) I haven't watched the new live action show yet so I can't say if that's a good place to start or not, but my advice would just be to find the first chapter or the first episode, whichever you prefer (the anime is pretty faithful to the manga so you're not missing much either way, the anime just has more filler stuff, some of which is really good!) and just give it a try, see if you like it!
And if you do, you should absolutely tell me what you think! :D I'm an Usopp girlie but Sanji is great too (and SanUso is a popular ship for a reason haha) and I'd love to hear your thoughts! And also maybe that'll inspire me to finally get caught up again. I've heard good things about the recent arcs!
The whole live action show coming out has put me back into a One Piece mood so this was a fun ask to get! :D (I'm sorry this answer was so long tho oops.)
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pigeons-official · 1 year
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tell me about the dahlia and pheonix dynamic in your head
sorry if it takes long to respond but I started Shaking when I saw this ask /pos
my headcanon about their dynamic comes back to. the class trial when Phoenix started looking up to Miles. they (Dahlia and Phoenix) only met in uni of course but the mock trial is Important to the Phoenix's character as a whole so here we are
ok, looking back to the mock trial we can see that Phoenix is a person that starts looking up to people the MOMENT they do sth significant/nice to him. some kid defends him? friends forever now. some girl goes up to him and start flirting? love from first sight. personally I believe that means he isn't really used to any of that
Dahlia on the other hand. she is used to that. to the attention and also kinda to ppl being willing to take her side (even if she's wrong. let's just look at Iris who used to help her). I believe thats the biggest reason she hates Phoenix so much tbh, I don't think she ever expected that he'd just say "no" to her when she asked him for the necklace back (it was Iris asking him but you know. he thought it was Dahlia)
sorry it's a bit chaotic but I want to talk about the moment Dahlia gave Phoenix her necklace. I think most of us look at this scene in a "Dahlia The Mastermind" sense (which is pretty fun) but I think it's also worth it to acknowledge that she was probably. kinda scared during this scene. scared for selfish reasons (scared of being found out to have murdered someone) but scared regardless. and Phoenix. we saw it time and time again that he feels like he needs to help everyone who is scared. I think he might have picked up on her being scared and that might be a part of why he fell (or more accurately.thought he fell imho) so hard so quickly
then. Dahlia didn't see him for some time but she spent a Lot of time thinking about him (NOT in a romantic sense of course but in a "I hate him so fucking much for not giving the necklace back and I'm now afraid all the time" sense) the next time they interact is like. when she wanted to kill him and them when she was on the witness stand.
I don't believe she persuaded him in any way to eat the necklace btw. I truly believe he just realized it on his own that she was guilty and he saw she was scared and wanted to protect her. in the weirdest way possible
and then. she says THE line. "how can any woman count on you" or sth like that. and then he learns she tried to kill him. Fucking Hell! now, I know the reason he still was kinda on her side after that is because he was genuinely confused because of the Iris Dahlia situation but it also shows sth else which is. he is READY to excuse fucked up behaviors towards him if it's from ppl he loves. which sucks
now, did Dahlia actually hate Phoenix? yes. but less for him as a person and more for the circumstances around them. on the one hand he was the perfect person she could have given the necklace to, on the other hand he was the worst person she could have given the necklace to. and all because of The Same Reason which is, Phoenix gets connected to people and things extremely easy if they show him (even if for a brief moment) that they are "on his side". do you get me. anon do you get me. does it make any amount of sense. I'm not sure myself
Dahlia. Dahlia Dollie Dearest. I made her seem like someone who always gets everything she wants which is both true and extremely untrue (I mean. Morgan is her mother). so many things about her are contradictory and I choose to interpret that as her being a nuanced character and not bad writing decisions. and in that spirit. I think her thoughts about Phoenix are contradictory as well. and Phoenix's thoughts about her. I think that's the theme of their weird dynamic, it's contradictions, it's Dahlia pretending all the time and it's Phoenix pretending right back. pretending he didn't know she was guilty. pretending he didn't see her umbrella on the crime scene.
did I answer your question? I'm not sure, I actually don't think so. but I don't think I can put it into words what I think is going on BETWEEN them. I just can point out things I think are influencing it
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aestheticaashes · 8 months
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1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?
2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?
3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?
4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?
5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?
8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?
10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?
15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?
16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.
19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.
30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?
31. Write a short love letter to your readers.
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?
34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:
36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?
40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.
(i'm so sorry i know this is like so many asks shjdfgs, you can ignore this entirely if you want haha) (this is mostlycyanide but thats an alt soo)
do not apologize to me dude i am so fucking stoked to have so many asks to answer
i did throw the answers under a readmore though because much like dave and dirk i am incapable of shutting the fuck up
1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?
Generally I write in Bitter. I set it as my default years and years ago lol, but some things get written in different fonts if I'm feeling funky! Time and Healing in particular is written in Arial.
2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?
I absolutely could and often do if I need a break from the keyboard/monitor. A) No I am not a wizard (unfortunate) and B) it depends on what I have on hand! I like pens for first drafts because I'm not worried about editing.
3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?
I don't really have a ritual, per se? And that in and of itself is probably cursed as hell by virtue of pure What The Fuck. I do like to have some ambient sounds playing and maybe music or a podcast, and I definitely write better when I do have those things, but I don't need them so it's not really a ritual.
4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?
Okay, so, see, thing is, I am a smut author at heart. I love writing character studies and heart-rendingly emotional shit and horrifyingly morally reprehensible shit, but mostly I like to write porn. I want you to know this before I say this:
I go feral over the word "easy". In ways I cannot explain but can sort of be understood based on the fact I write a fuckton of smut. Just. "Easy." God.
5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?
If you don't share the WIP it will die a painful death. If you DO share the WIP it will die a painful death. You must find a balance. You gotta share it with the right audience and make sure not to over-share it. This is true because every time I have gotten overzealous and shared too much of a WIP, it never got finished. It's not a superstition if there's empirical evidence.
8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?
Dialogue. I've done it before and it usually works out okay - I have this awful habit of getting too far into the characters' head, anyway, so if I don't have to worry about actual dialogue while I write what they're thinking and feeling and what's happening around them, then everything works out swimmingly.
10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?
Yes. God, yes. So many pieces of writing have haunted me. My own writing haunts me constantly.
If it lives in my head rent free for longer than 24 hours, and pieces of it crop back up in my head or permanently change how I think about something, that's a piece of writing that haunts me. I read a piece of writing when I was like 11 that contained a phrase that was something to the effect of, "Oh, how sweet. If I had a heart, I would cry." and I have never stopped thinking about it.
I read a fic series (twice) recently that has now permanently added the phrases 'shit-scared' and 'warm for his form' to my vocabulary.
15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?
I honestly own so few physical copies of books that. Like. I'm so used to books belonging to someone else, a friend or the library, that I'm shit-scared to damage them at all. The books I own I try my hardest to keep in perfect condition. I can't bear to write in the margins, or dog-ear pages. I don't read in the bath solely because when I'm in the bath I am trying to become one with the water. I don't judge anyone who does these things, though, because it's just another way to show appreciation for the books :]
16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?
Slice of cheese. (For like 30 seconds).
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
This could be a post all by itself, don't tempt me. God. Fuck. I am so painfully abnormal about Time and Healing. There is so much going on in this universe that I don't know if I'll get to explore. The tale of Mr. Snyder and his fuckwit self. Little details about how Bro raised Dave that line uncomfortably up with how his dad raised him, and little details Dave remembers that Bro can't that mean so much to him. Fuck. Goddamit. Don't do this to me man I could go on about this for weeks.
(I will make a post about this.)
18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.
' You stare at the doorknob for so long that Bro actually knocks again. "Dave?" You hear him ask, and his voice doesn't sound any different than how you remember it. Toneless, deep, and even that single word has the twinge fo his accent. You pull in as silent a breath as you can. Hold it. Breathe it out slow. Lift your hand and unlock the door, then pull it open. You keep your face carefully blank, suppress the low blood sugar tremors, and lean casually against the door frame, like you didn't flee into here with your tail between your legs to hide three days ago. "Sup?" You ask, without lifting a brow or letting the emotionless mask break at all. '
So. This passage. There has been a form of it in existence since long before Time and Healing became a fuckin' thing. We're talking since like 2014. This passage's original form came from an unfinished fic I started in 2014 called Late Night Bro Time, which was like. A mess of a oneshot (that I never finished) that was supposed to deal with post-SBURB Dave trying to come to terms with Bro being alive again and all the trauma he has around Bro having died.
In the end, though Time and Healing as a whole is based on that oneshot, this is the only thing from the original that sort of made it properly in. In the original it was more Dave agonizing over the idea of talking to Bro and having a hard time convincing himself to let him in. And now, well...
19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
I started writing when I was pretty young. I couldn't tell you when, exactly, although my first actual memories of writing stories are when I was 8 or 9. I think I mostly started because it was an easier way to get ideas out of my head than walking around telling myself stories and getting stared at like a freak for talking out loud to myself.
In terms of bumps along the way, dear fucking lord have there been bumps. There have been so many bumps. All of the bumps. Between getting a shitty comment here and there or going through a severely fucked-up situation (the pandemic or my first real psychotic episode, for example), there have been times in my life where I just don't write anything at all, or I feel like there's no point in me doing it.
Where am I now? Well, I'm in a place where I'm happy if I don't write, and I'm having fun when I do. I don't feel any pressure to finish shit, which makes it easier to make myself finish shit - but because I don't feel that pressure, I can follow my motivation wherever it wanders to. If I want to hyperfixate on a random idea for four days and bang out 40K on it, then never touch it again, that's fine. And as for where I'm going, I'm hoping that one day I'll reach a point where I literally only do this because it's fun, and not because I care if people give me feedback.
(I am not at that point yet. Please continue giving me feedback. I eat it. It sustains me.)
23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.
Now, see, here's a difficult one. I don't write in one specific place, and since I just quit my job I'm now spending more of my time writing in random places at home.
Lately, though, I write laying in bed. The room is usually comfortably cool, although right now it's hot as balls while my ac works overtime trying to fight the 93 degree weather outside. I've got a body pillow I use as the base for other pillows, and I tend to use stuffies to prop myself up against the wall - right now, I've got a minecraft glowsquid plush doing the hard work of holding up my bigass head. My husband's sprawled out next to me playing games, taking up half the bed while I squeeze into a comfortable little spot on the other side. Next to me there's a 44oz fountain drink I didn't finish, which is about as normal an addition to the scene as the bed itself is. The whole room is messy as hell: clothes on the floor, about half a dozen half-empty water bottles I never threw away, notebooks scattered on every available surface. I'm sweating to death, but here I am answering asks and trying to bang out some words on a couple of wips anyway.
30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?
My dreams don't play a massive role in my writing life. I have used dream material to write from, but I so rarely have dreams I remember in any detail that there's little point trying. The dreams I do remember are usually some manner of sleep paralysis induced night terror, which don't make for great writing. I don't think I've ever written in a dream, but chances are that I have and just have no memory of doing it!
31. Write a short love letter to your readers.
You Lovely Fucking People You,
You have no clue how much it means to me that you're reading my stories. I have poured my soul into these things just for the sake of making them but nothing makes me happier than to share them. To know other people enjoy them. Every comment and kudo I get fuels me for days on end, and I probably wouldn't be so obsessed with my own writing if y'all hadn't decided to let me know how much you liked it.
You keep me going and I appreciate you all so much
Love,
Rhys.
32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
I have. So many of these that they all fled my mind the moment I tried to answer. I'll get back to you on this one.
33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?
I do draw from time to time, and on occasion I've made music! Generally both of those artistic hobbies are entirely separate from my writing, but some of my best work in both has come from making things for my writing! I made an entire 10-song soundtrack for one of my fics once and it is, to date, the best music I have ever made.
34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:
If you have read my writing, then surely you must, at least a little bit, have an understanding of how much I love the Oxford comma, seeing as I am incapable of shutting the fuck up and letting a sentence stop, and the Oxford comma makes it so simple, so easy, to keep a sentence going long past where it needed to end.
This is both my answer and an example.
36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice...what do you Know?
I Know a stupid amount of useless crime scene investigation techniques, a fuckton about drugs, a weird amount of things about kink, and what it's like to have a full-fledged mental breakdown complete with hysterical crying and laughter (often at the same time).
Convenient, given I write a lot of shit about crimes, drugs, kink, and mental breakdowns.
40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.
Ok so I don't read much poetry. But. I do have. An original poem. And it is sappy as hell ok don't look at me just take this except take it before i get the vapors
If love is meant to be forever, Then my forever is with you. And through any kind of weather, That much will still be true. There are no words to impart All of the reasons why You are precious to me. You have all of my heart.
-from "Home", by me.
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bbydollx36x · 1 year
Note
2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or bad, and why? 
5: Where is one place you would never have sex:
6: The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when:
9: What is the fastest way to make you horny: 
11: We were about to have sex but then
14: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:
15: Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:
16: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you: 
18: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:
19: Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had?
21: How big is too big?
22: One sexual thing you would never do:
23: Biggest turn on?
25: Worst possible time to get horny:
31: Is it good sex if you don’t nut:
33: What your favorite part of your body?
34: Favorite foreplay activities:
37: When was the first time you masturbated?
41: Have/would you ever had a threesome?
42: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?
43: Have/would you ever masturbate at work/school?
46: What is something nonsexual that makes you horny?
51: What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny?
53: Do you like giving head? (why/why not)
61: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?
63: How small is too small?
69: If you could give yourself head, would you?
70: Booty or Boobs?
74: If you were a stripper, what would your name be?
75: Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?)
76: How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed?
77: What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina?
Sorry for many o just really want know these
2~ it was good 🥰🥰 my bf never fails to please me 🥴
5~ a car or the shower, personally I think they're both overrated 👀
6~ i started my period in the middle of it and didn't know until he turned the lights on 😅 that was a mess
9~ neck, feet, im v touch sensitive 💕
11~ but then you told me you dont like game of thrones 😬😬 so I had to goooooo
14~ I was on my period and he called me his little ketchup packet :c
15~ like; the way cock feels in my mouth. Dislike; if someone has the audacity to not shower before and think imma suck it >:c
16~ a guy wanted to fist me 😅 tried and failed because I was too tight
18~ I fucking hate condoms 😭 never use them with my bfs. but, I do use them if it's not a commited sexual partner. Its annoying af, but id rather be safe💕
19~ my art teacher in college 🥴 one time he took me into the closet to show me his glow in the dark watch 😂 but being in a closed closet alone with him, it was killing me 🥺
21~ ive never had bigger than 8in 😅 but...id like too >,> I think id say 10~11in would be too big 👀
22~ scatt🙅‍♀️
23~ ive answered this one a few times😘
25~ when im at work 😅 alot of cute guys come thru my job and ill just be thinking dirty thoughts about them the whole time.
31~ if I dont nut thats just disrespectful:c
33~ my eyes🥰
34~ dry humping, making out/eating out, groping, body worship 🥴
37~ oh man 😅 toooo young when I found out how good humping my pillow felt
41~ I have💕 the first time it was me and 2 guys, the second was me and 2 girl friends x3
42~ my brush handle 👀 ive had sex toys since I was able to buy them so I never had to really get creative with it lol
43~ yes, ive masturbatdd at both 😉
46~ I talked about it in the ask before this one, but another thing I guess would be eye contact 💕
51~ when someone tries to just jump into sex without the foreplay 🙃
53~ yes, because I have an oral fixation🥰
61~ pornstar💕
63~ 2~3in.. but those are the kind of guys I want to humiliate 👀 not in a mean way. I just wanna tell them how cute and small it is 😘
69~ oh absolutely 😂
70~ both💕
74~ Lynn Vicious is my stage name x3 hehe
75~ I have 😅 i fucked in my dads bed when he was at work
76~ id have to burn my nice sheets :c lol
77~ the first time I saw it on porn, and I just remember not being able to look away and feeling all tingly to the point I had to play with myself 😅
Its okay💕 I always want asks and this is the most ive gotten in a while 🥰🥰🥰
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aajjks · 3 months
Note
😭😭 it only gets weirder from here. you thought tpol!jk’s family was twisted? meet bc!jk’s family
BC!JK
‘she says you should come here~- and as for him? He’s been a little grumpy, which is so weird because he’s never grumpy with me.’
you laugh at jungkook’s text because you know sage does not care about you. you only left sage there because he could easily give her back if he desired to. it’s jungkook who wants to see you but you aren’t too sure about going to see him considering your last conversation didn’t end too well.
at this point, nothing ends well when it comes to you and jungkook.
now that you have jungkook’s attention, you debate on asking if he sent his father to come see you because you can’t help but feel like he has something to do with his father making a surprise visit at your job.
‘lol that’s because you’ve been grumpy’
‘he feels what you feel remember?’
a few texts later, you tell him…
‘funny how your father came to see me earlier today and now you’re texting me. coincidence? i think not! what are you planning? 🤨’
‘wait yn?! I’m going to call you please pick up.’
your phone immediately begins ringing before you can even read jungkook’s text and you know it’s him because you recognize the last digits of his number.
“Uh hello? My father was there?! at your workplace? How the fuck did even find it? I don’t know where you work?”
“woah woah, calm down! yeah, your father was here but i thought you knew!” you say and judging from the panic in jungkook’s voice, he clearly had no idea that his father was paying you a visit.
“what did he say to you?”
“he just wanted to meet me, i guess? he called me pretty and asked me to eat dinner with you and your family tonight. he even gave me his card to call him in case i changed my mind” you say and you though the encounter was pretty weird, you thought he did that to get you to talk to jungkook again.
“i mean, he’s a rich man. he probably paid someone to locate me which is really weird but…” you pause to listen to what jungkook has to say because he’s in shock to hear his own father visited you and then claimed to be hosting a dinner he didn’t even know about!!
“all i can say is his reaction to meeting me was completely different from your mother’s”
He doesn’t understand what is going on. His father literally invited you on dinner? What the fuck is going on? If it’s even possible, he is even more confused than about his father’s sudden unexpected visit.
Why on earth would he do all of this and why would he call you pretty?
“Yn I don’t get it, but… I’m so sorry you have to meet my parents in the most weirdest way possible… but listen why don’t you come to dinner tonight I mean I will join my parents too?”
If his dad did one thing right, it was inviting you to dinner and he really hopes that you will accept the invitations so he can see you once again and maybe he will finally be able to breathe again.
“Please it would be good!” he makes sure the sound a little sad, so you might pity him and actually come to the dinner, “please come because my dad doesn’t just invite anyone maybe…. he wants to fix… my mistakes.”
But before you can give him a definite answer, he cuts the call- because what if you say no?
Jungkook immediately gets off from his bed and he’s already off to his closet so he can find the nicest suit he has, for tonight because it’s going to be special.
He cannot wait to see you and he cannot wait to see his reaction and she sees you and gets to know that his father personally invited you.
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vonlipwig · 2 years
Note
Franky, your love and dedication for Rhys over the years is the most adorable thing to witness since being part of OFMD fandom <3 It's a delight seeing your posts.
this is extremely sweet and you are very kind but i'm afraid i'm going to answer in a really fucking weird way because, you see, i need to explain what's been going on in my head the last few weeks. sorry.
this is a story about growing up neurodivergent. it's also about rhys darby but we'll get to him in a minute.
when i was in 2nd form, our english teacher came up with a great exercise to illustrate the concept of 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder'. she gave us all a slip of paper and told us to write down the celebrity we found most attractive. the person i wrote down was the Wrong Answer so i was mocked relentlessly. and publically. the teacher managed to get control of the class eventually but i'd learnt a lesson - sometimes i was weird and it was Not Good to be weird. so in an attempt to get some sense of Normality i came up with the Weird Crush Principle.
the Weird Crush Principle is simple and complicated at the same time. sometimes the people i found attractive were Normal and ok to admit to Normal People. sometimes they were Weird and should not be admitted to Normal People or they would mock me relentlessly.
in order to be in the Normal category, they had to fulfill these criteria:
sufficiently well-known - to avoid having to explain who they are
within appropriate age range - just shoot for <60 and we're ok
conventionally attractive - baffling but workable
let me give you an example of what it looks like in my head:
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are you with me? ok. look i know. i know this is fundamentally not a Normal thing to do but i'm admitting to this on neurodivergency.com so you can't judge me
this has worked at making me seem Relatively Normal In This Particular Area since 2005.
now the intersection gave me grief because i knew it existed. Normal People sometimes talked about their 'weird crushes'. but their 'weird crushes' didn't seem to fit with my Weird Crush Principle. and putting someone there felt like too much of a gamble.
enter rhys darby.
i was at uni (2012-ish) when i latched onto rhys darby like the little adhd limpet i am and i thought. huh. actually. i reckon he could go riiiiight here
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he wasn't exactly a household name but you could explain him with a single word - 'comedian'. he was in his late thirties, at the time. and i thought he was hot as hell. i mean he's funny. and has a cute accent. and he's ginger. everyone has the hots for ginger men... right?
the girls in my dorm had this thing where we'd get together somewhat frequently to watch romcoms with people we fancied in them and when it was my turn i was confident in my ability to be Normal so we watched Love Birds and UH OH
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OH NO BAD WRONG ANSWER FUCK
so that was literally the last time i ever admitted to having a Thing for rhys darby. to anyone. not even tumblr - the website that had a collective breakdown over benedict fucking cumberbatch for christ's sake - because this is something that i'm pretty sensitive about. once bitten, twice shy. twice bitten, fuck off don't come near me.
i know i know it's stupid but school really does do a number on you doesnt it?
anyway about three weeks ago this happened
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and since then i have not known peace because i was right??? i was right all along??? i was so normal about this?????
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Corpse’s Girl
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?
Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤
P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘
Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.
He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.
“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.
I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.
“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.
I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.
“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.
The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.
“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 
I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.
The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 
“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“
He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”
I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”
“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.
“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.
He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“
I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“
He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”
I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“
He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”
I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.
Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.
“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.
I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.
My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”
“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.
“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“
I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.
My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.
I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.
When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.
“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“
I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”
I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.
“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 
I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 
And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....
I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.
“This is all my fault.“
Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.
“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.
“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.
 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.
Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.
While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.
“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.
And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.
My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.
And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.
Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.
Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.
Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.
I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.
I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.
                                                            *  *  *
I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.
I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.
My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.
I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.
We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 
“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.
I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.
“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“
“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.
Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.
Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.
Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.
                                                              *  *  *
Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 
I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 
And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 
I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.
One tear slides down my cheek.
Another follows.
And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.
A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.
“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.
Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.
I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 
He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”
I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 
What do I have to lose?
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.
I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.
It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.
Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 
I choose to believe the latter.
And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.
“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“
His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”
He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”
I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”
He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.
@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat
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Hi! For the ask game thingy, could I request Glitra with either 33 or 16? Thank you! :)
[prompt 16 reads: brand new neighbours au] hi thank you for the prompt!!! i’ve answered the first one because i’m a sucker for flirty catra and ‘do i hate her or do I have a crush on her’ glimmer :D [i’ll cross post it on ao3 after a day or so!!] 
---
“Bow, you don’t get it,” Glimmer whines. “She’s hot, but also such. An. Ass.”
Bow looks faintly amused. “Did you call me at two in the morning just to whine about your new neighbor, Glimmer?”
“We live in different continents, Bow, it’s like, five in the afternoon for you. And I’m only away because Catra” –Glimmer scoffs at the name, who even calls themselves Catra- “will not stop playing her emo metal music at the weirdest times of the night!”
“Maybe you should just get to know her,” Bow suggests. “You know. You never really interact with her unless you want to pick a fight. Besides, you might score a date out of it.”
“I don’t want to score a date!” Glimmer protests. She bangs her head on the table as the volume of the music blaring from Catra’s apartment turns up. She didn’t even think it was possible for it get louder.
“I’m going to go to her apartment and break her speakers,” Glimmer grits out. She stands up and grabs her coat.
“Maybe you shouldn’t-” Bow starts to say; but he’s too late. Glimmer’s hung up the phone, and she puts on her coat and shoes with more force than necessary before storming to Catra’s apartment and banging on the door.
The music cuts off and Catra opens the door. She’s wearing a cropped top with tight, tight leather pants, and her hair is short and gorgeous in the dying sun and her lips are red. Glimmer kind of wants to bite them.
Catra raises a slow eyebrow. “Yeah?” she asks, pointedly.
Glimmer blinks away thoughts of kissing, biting Catra’s lips and long, brown neck. Whatever. She can keep a rein on her bisexuality, it’s fine. Totally fine! “Your music. Is too loud. Too fucking loud, I can’t hear myself think. And if you’re going to play music that loud, you might as well play good music, but nooo, I have to hear metal and emo music all! The! Time!”
Catra, to Glimmer’s chagrin, just looks faintly amused. She leans on her doorframe, looking unfairly attractive while doing so, and looks Glimmer up and down. Slowly. “Why don’t you show me some of your music?” she asks, somehow making the innocent line sound like an innuendo. One, God help her, Glimmer wants to take her up on.
“Oh my god,” Glimmer groans. “You couldn’t have come up with a better line?”
“You thought that was a line?” Catra asks, and Glimmer is hit with a brief feeling of panic, before she sees Catra’s twinkling eyes. “Believe me, Sparkles, I can come up with much better lines. Not just for anyone, though.” Catra blinks at her slowly, meaningfully.
“And am I ‘just anyone?’” Glimmer asks, when she can’t take the pause anymore.
“Well, considering that you barged into my apartment, yelled at me about my music, at two in the morning, and somehow managed to look cute doing it, I’d say you’re not just anyone. You’re someone.” The way Catra says someone, dripping with promise and a little bit of curiosity, has Glimmer reddening. Catra grins. “Dinner,” she says. “Tomorrow, 6 pm, my place.”
Glimmer can’t do anything but nod, and leave, stunned into silence.
She can always break Catra’s speakers tomorrow, after they’ve had dinner. She’ll be in her house, after all, it’ll be easier that way. She isn’t agreeing because Catra just might have a snarky, flirty, intriguing personality under all that heavy metal music and emo clothing. 
---
thanks for reading! the prompt is from this list, but requests are closed as of now, sorry <3
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ericspinkhair · 3 years
Text
unexpectedly becoming a sugar baby
pairing: ceo!sunwoo x fem!reader
word count: 3.4k
synopsis: reader is desperate for money so she has sex with her boss
warnings: lots of oral and fingering, use of vibrator in public , office sex, sex for money
a/n: wrote this yesterday instead of studying for my final. the exam went well tho :) also please send in requests!!!
masterlist + requests
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to say you were desperate would be an understatement. today you had received an eviction notice that stated that you had exactly 30 days to either pay back all the money you owed your landlord or leave your apartment.
due to your mother's illness you had to pay for all her medical bills. your father hadn't been in the picture for a long time so you alone were responsible for your mother's health. you couldn't just let her die. but because of all these costs you hadn't been able to pay your rent and now you were on the verge of homelessness.
never in a lifetime did you imagine that you would be begging someone for help. you felt so helpless that you honestly didn't really care how you got the money.
you decided to ask your boss for a raise and were prepared to work your ass off in order to get it.
mr. kim's office was on the fourth floor of the company, one you barely had ever been to. normal employees were usually only to be found on the lower floors so taking the elevator up felt wrong.
you were determined, however, to not let your pride get in the way. the money was more important than how you felt.
you knocked on the door twice. as if to make you feel even more nervous, it seemed like mr. kim waited extra long to respond.
when you entered he was sitting behind his desk. he didn't even look up at you so you just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.
'why don't you just sit?' he finally asked annoyed and closed his laptop.
you quickly took a seat and tried to put up a professional front.
'what can I do for you, um…' 'y/n,' you helped him out. 'right, y/n. what can I do for you?' he asked.
'I would like to ask for a raise, sir. you see, I am usually the first employee to enter the building and also most of the time the last one to leave. I do my work reliably and deliver solid results. my coworkers are pleased with me and we also get along well. I think I contribute a lot to this company and wanted to ask whether it would be possible to raise my pay.' you really tried to not make it seem like you had simply memorized all of this and forced yourself to speak slowly but firmly while looking him in the eyes.
mr. kim didn't respond at first but opened his laptop.
'to my understanding you have been working here for a very long time already. your pay is already the highest it can get. there is no way for me to raise it because there is no room for improvement.' he sighed and waited for your reaction.
you started sweating. this wasn't going as planned. you hadn't known that you were already receiving the highest pay. you were barely able to afford food with your current money.
'please, sir. I will do anything you ask of me. I don't care how many extra hours I'd have to work. I can do it. I promise. please give me a chance,' you begged him.
he was intrigued by you. why were you so desperate for the money?
'first, why don't you tell me why you are so keen on a raise?'
was your boss even allowed to ask you such personal questions? you answered anyway.
'my mother has cancer. I am the only person paying for her medical expenses and the treatments are all very expensive. I am about to get evicted because I cannot pay my rent.'
he seemed to be deep in thought. his gaze on you was intense.
your heart skipped a beat when he placed his hand on yours.
'y/n, I'm extremely sorry that you have to deal with all of this. I wouldn't want anyone to have to experience the same thing. believe me when I tell you that I want to help you. you know what? come back tomorrow. I have an idea how I might be able to help but I need to think about it further. would that be alright for you?'
it felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. you didn't care about what you had to do. you stood up, bowed deeply and thanked him over and over.
he let out a deep chuckle. you were cute.
the next day you came back again in the afternoon. this time he answered the door quicker and his attention was focused on you from the start. the energy felt much different than the day before. he seemed excited and was smiling at you. this had to mean good news, right? he shook your hand and pressed firmly while looking you deep in the eyes.
'y/n, I came up with an idea to help you. but it is less conventional and it depends on how much you are willing to do.'
'mr. kim, I will do anything,' you assured him. the smirk he flashed you threw you off guard.
'okay then. first, I'd prefer it if you called me sunwoo as we'll be seeing more of each other if you were to agree.'
this lowkey felt like crossing some boundaries but you wanted to please him.
you nodded eagerly. 'okay, sunwoo it is.'
'so my idea is that there are certain things you can do to earn money. I will pay for everything with my own savings and you will receive it in cash. we will start off easy and over time I'll add new tasks. of course, you have the freedom to choose whether you want to do them or not. that is completely up to you.'
the look of confusion on your face must have told him you didn't fully understand.
'it's hard to explain. I'd rather you figure it out by trying it. since today is friday, the task I'll give you is for monday. I would like to choose an outfit for you. I'll send it to your apartment and you have to wear exactly what is inside the box. if you were to do this I'd give you $20 cash.'
that was a weird request. why would he want to decide what you were wearing? did he not like your outfit? did you look disgusting?
'let me get this straight. you pick an outfit for me and if I decide to wear it I get money?' you ask him to see if you had understood correctly.
'exactly. that doesn't seem so bad, right?' you shook your head. it was whatever.
'that's great. you'll receive your outfit and I can't wait to see you in it on monday.' you didn't know if you were imagining it but it seemed like he was eyeing your body. h god, he definitely didn't like what you were wearing.
$20 wasn't much but still more than nothing. and apparently the other tasks would be worth more. guess you had to start somewhere. with the money you could at least afford something to eat.
you say goodbye and continued with work until it was time to leave.
you waited anxiously all weekend for the clothes. sunday you decided to go for a walk and when you opened your door you almost tripped over a package.
on monday morning you tried on the outfit sunwoo had picked out for you.
the white blouse was a bit see through and a bit too tight around the boob area but looked neat otherwise. the black skirt hugged your curves perfectly and made you look quite sexy in your opinion. he even picked out a bra, underwear, stockings and high heels for you. the note he had left clearly stated to wear exactly and only what was in the box. so you did.
you usually wore something more simple and loose but you didn't feel too uncomfortable in this look.
when you entered his office his eyes lit up.
'I'm glad you wore this. it looks very good on you.'
you were sure you blushed a bit at his words. you weren't really used to receiving compliments from men.
'I like it too,' you admit. sunwoo smiled contentedly.
'so would you like to do the same tomorrow? I'll send you another outfit,' he asked you.
this one wasn't bad at all so you agreed. he handed you $20. when you stood up and walked out the door he couldn't stop admiring the way your butt looked in the skirt. tomorrow was going to be even better.
the blouse was almost the same one. however, this time the skirt was a lot shorter. it ended at the middle of your thighs. but that wasn't even the weirdest thing. this time he had forgotten to send you panties.
you felt very unsure what to do. the note clearly stated to only wear what was in the box.
you sighed and pulled down the skirt as much as you could. this would have to do. as long as you were just sitting, everything would be fine.
you went about your day and some time in the afternoon you were called into sunwoo's office.
you were wondering whether or not to tell him about the missing underwear but decided to keep your mouth closed. panties didn't seem to be a topic to talk about with your boss.
'today, I want to offer you an additional task. you will receive your $20 dollars for sure and you can make another 30 by cleaning my office. what do you think?' he proposed to you.
that would be $50 in total. you needed all the money you could get.
'of course. just tell me what to clean and I will be happy to help.'
everything was going according to sunwoo's plan. he was excited and told you you could start by dusting the shelves.
your eagerness was cute and he watched you out of the corner of his eyes.
some of the shelves were higher up so you had to stretch to be able to reach them. when you did your skirt rolled up higher and he was able to see the just the outline of your butt cheeks. he unconsciously licked his lips.
for the rest of the week you continued these two tasks. but you noticed that the underwear kept on missing and the skirts also progressively became shorter.
this was a struggle when you were cleaning and organizing his office. you were aware of your skirt rolling up and you were hoping that sunwoo wouldn't notice.
of course he did. that had been his intention all along. when you bent down he could sometimes get a glance at your pretty pussy. he couldn't help but get hard at the sight of this and palmed his bulge through his pants.
in one week you had received $220. you would have been more happy if you hadn't gotten another bill from the hospital asking you for another $1200. the health care system was simply fucked up. whatever the next tasks were, you had to do them.
on monday you were cleaning his office again. you wanted to pick up some files but you struggled reaching them from the highest shelf. you felt your skirt roll up again.
'wait. I'll help you,' sunwoo announced and walked over.
you gasped as you felt something hard poke your thigh as he stood behind you to reach for the files. when he took a step back you saw the clear outlines of his hardened cock.
unable to hide your surprise, sunwoo laughed.
'this is all your doing.' so he did notice your skirt roll up. wait. had he given you these clothes with this in mind?
'do you want to touch it?' he asked.
you just blinked at him. what? were you perhaps still dreaming? it was possible that you were having a wet dream about your boss. sunwoo was very handsome and you had to be blind not to notice.
'if you help me get rid of it, I'll promise you $100.' he knew you were thinking hard. you couldn't keep your eyes off his bulge, clearly not sure what to think of this.
this was against all the work protocols but you would kid yourself if you said that you didn't want to. not only was he very attractive but you'd do a lot for a mere $100.
you reached for his belt. sunwoo smirked; he had won.
you pulled his pants down and were immediately greeted with his veiny cock.
'you aren't the only one not wearing any underwear, my dear y/n.'
so that had been intentional. interesting. you realized you must have been very naive to have believed that he had simply forgotten to put panties in the boxes.
you started by rubbing the tip softly with your thumb. it was pretty and pink and already leakined pre-cum.
you felt strangely good about having this kind of effect on someone. with a few pumps his dick was completely hard.
sunwoo propped his hands on the desk behind him and leaned back in bliss.
deep moans were escaping his beautifully luscious lips while you were pleasuring him with your hands.
you decided to put your left hand you use as well by massaging his balls.
'fuck! when did you learn to do this so well?' sunwoo groaned.
during high school you had had a lot of sex. it made you feel good and you enjoyed it. now your experience turned out to be lifesaving to you. well, he'd probably pay you even if you weren't as mind blowing.
'hmm, practice,' you simply state.
'if this is already so good I wonder what your mouth can do, baby girl.' being called that aroused you way more than expected. this was so exciting.
'I'll give you another $100 if you suck me off.'
before sunwoo knew it you had already wrapped your lips around his cock. you skillfully bobbed your head up and down. when you looked up at him with big eyes he swore he was about to explode.
with most of the dick in your mouth your other hand was continuing to knead his balls.
he was coming close quickly and grabbed your hair so you would stay still.
he proceeded to fuck your mouth harshly. you felt spit running down the sides of your lips and tears escaping your eyes as he buried his cock deep in your mouth. you tried to relax in order to deep-throat him properly.
he came hard and emptied his load in your mouth. to prove a point, you swallowed it and then opened up to show him.
panting hard he said: 'fuck you're just amazing!'
you looked absolutely delicious with your face full of cum. he had a good feeling you were the right person to do this with.
you licked off some of the white liquid from your lips and smirked at him.
this was definitely not what you had expected what you would be doing but you weren't one to complain.
sunwoo quickly disappeared to search for some paper towels to clean your face. his employees couldn't see you like this.
after your face was clean again he handed you $250. 'you deserve it.' 'thanks.'
he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned closer. 'maybe we can do more tomorrow.' ooh, sounds exciting.
'then I'll look forward to seeing you.' with a wink you left.
you wondered how much money you would get for some sexy time with your boss.
the next morning, you couldn't fully button up the blouse he had sent you. the top buttons had to be left open and a lot of cleavage was visible. this horndog!
this time you actually received some underwear but only for a special reason. you found a pink mini vibrator in the box as well.
so you were walking around with a vibrating stick up your pussy. you didn't want to come in front of your co-workers so you turned it off whenever you got too close and waited to calm down.
'did you have fun today?' was the first thing sunwoo said to you.
you laughed ironically. 'I had so much fun pretending I wasn't being masturbating in front of everyone…'
he made you turn around and lifted up your skirt. the outline of the vibrator was visible and he could see your panties shaking.
with one quick move he pulled your underwear down and took the vibrator to turn it off. it came out with a wet plop and juices were running down your thighs.
sunwoo surprised you by sucking on the wet vibrator.
'sit on the desk,' he commanded you.
you did as you were told and sunwoo spread your legs wide apart.
he inserted his index and middle finger which slipped in with ease. your pussy made wet noises as he pushed them in and out of you.
finally having privacy you allowed yourself to make sounds. he made intense eye contact while fingering you, loving the way your face was scrunched up in pleasure.
you wrapped your arms around his neck and started kissing him. his tongue easily won the fight over dominance and started exploring your mouth.
you two were basically just sucking each others faces off until he broke off the kiss and lowered his body. he attached his mouth to your clit and started sucking. you pulled at his hair in pleasure and had a hard time controlling your breathing. damn, he was skilled at this as well.
when he felt you clenching around his fingers he withdrew them and you let out a disappointed noise of protest.
'don't worry. you'll have more soon.', he laughed at you. he quickly took off his pants and pulled you off the desk. he turned you around so your ass was facing him.
he started rubbing his thick cock between your ass cheeks and coated it in your juices. every time he got into contact with your tense pussy a shudder overcame your body.
he lifted your leg and placed your foot on the table. the angle from when he thrusted into you from behind was just perfect.
sunwoo attached his lips onto your neck and started leaving hickeys there. at the same time he was kneading your breast through your shirt.
he had barely ever felt such a perfect pussy around his cock. the way you took him in seemed too good to be true.
while his dick was still inside you, he lifted you up and placed you on all fours on the floor.
he grabbed your hips so tightly that he left red marks on them. at this point, he was just uncontrollably slamming into you while you were losing your mind. you were screaming his name loudly, glad that you knew no one could hear you.
as you could feel both of you getting close, he pulled your upper body up to his chest and wrapped one hand around your neck.
the pressure he applied was just enough for you to see stars but not enough for it to be unpleasant.
the lack of oxygen stimulated your senses even more and while repeatedly screaming out sunwoo's name you finally came hard on his dick.
with a few more thrusts, sunwoo's hips started stuttering as well and he shot his load into you. while riding out your highs he was just fucking his cum right back into you.
when he finally pulled out, a pool of his semen started dripping out of you. you suddenly felt so empty. his thick cock had filled you up so good that you were already missing it.
while you were still catching your breath on the floor, sunwoo had gone to get paper towels.
when he came back, however, he seemed hectic.
'I'm so sorry. there has been an emergency and I need to leave right now. I'll leave these here as well as the money.' he placed everything on the desk and walked back to the door.
he turned around one last time. 'I hope we can do this again.' he smiled at you.
you later saw that he had left you $750.
kind of becoming a sugar baby had never been your plan but you didn't mind it. if only the circumstances had been better.
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staticscreenwriting · 3 years
Text
Where the heart is // B. B.
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Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)
TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.
A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.] 
TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately. 
Waking up from this nightmare How's your life, what's it like there? Is it all what you want it to be? Does it hurt when you think about me? And how broken my heart is
The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.
People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.
There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.
There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.
When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.
“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”  
“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“
“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “
She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.
“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.
“ If that’s okay with you.”
“ sure. “
The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”
They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.
He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.
Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.
There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.
She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.
“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.
She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.
“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “
His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.
Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.
“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.
There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.
He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.
“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “
He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.
“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “
She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.
“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.” 
“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”
Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?
She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.
“ Sure, I guess. I —  yeah.”
She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.
He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.
She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.
There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.
“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “
He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.
Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.
“ I have —  I have no idea. “ he has to confess.
“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.
“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”
“ Oh god! That was terrible. “
“ It was.”
She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.
“ What are you thinking about? “
He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?
“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “
It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.
“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.
Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.
“ Nothing. “
“ Hm? “
“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “
She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.
It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.
“ Our first picture with Alpine. “
“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.
He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.
“ Was worth it though! “
Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “
“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”
“ He’s our cat.” he points out.
“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”
It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.
“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “
“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “
There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.
“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.
“ Is that from the —”
“ The tattoo place, yeah. “
The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.
“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.
“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “
Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “
“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.
“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.
“ You were the best boyfriend. “
“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “
She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.
“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “
It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.
Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.
“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “
“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.
But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.
“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “
She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.
“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.
“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.
“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “
“ I didn’t give up. “
“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “
“ You agreed! “
“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”
Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.
“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “
“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken.  “
He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.
Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.
“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “
She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.
“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “
“ I miss you Bucky. “
“ I miss you too. “
“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”
“ Even without the babies? “
“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”
“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.
Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.
“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “
“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “
She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.
He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.
“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “
“ I think you might be right. “
And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.
“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “
“ You’ll look gorgeous.”
And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.
There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.
They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.
And forever.
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clusterbuck · 3 years
Note
Ficlet starter - 25!
"and yet, that is not the weirdest thing that's happened to me today," buck muses in the back of the engine, and regrets it when three pairs of eyes snap to him immediately—hen and chimney look curious, and eddie's eyes widen in the way buck knows means buck what are you doing.
right. he's not supposed to talk about the other thing. not to hen and chimney, at least.
"buck, did you miss the part where we just put out a fire that was set on purpose to cleanse a possessed barbie doll?" chimney asks.
"it's barely gone nine in the morning," hen chimes in. "what weirder thing could possibly have happened to you already?"
buck glances at eddie, just long enough to see him shaking his head almost imperceptibly. he gives a tiny, hopefully reassuring nod in return, praying that hen doesn't notice.
"i, uh, found a tripe yolk while making scrambled eggs this morning," buck says.
chimney groans. "buck—" he shakes his head. "there's no way triple yolk beats diy exorcism."
"eh, i've seen more attempted exorcisms than i have triple yolks," buck says.
chimney sighs and throws his hands up in apparent disbelief. "i don't know why i asked," he mutters. "don't know what i was expecting."
"hey, do you know what the most yolks ever found in one egg is?" buck asks. across from him, eddie smiles and knocks his knee against buck's.
"buck, you have to know that we don't," hen says. "but go on, i'm sure you're dying to tell us."
"eleven," buck says, beaming. "isn't that wild?"
"how does that even—" chimney starts to ask, just as the engine pulls into the station. buck is pretty sure he isn't the only one breathing a sigh of relief at not having to speculate about chicken reproduction.
eddie takes his hand almost as soon as they're out of the engine and tugs him around the corner. the contact sends a shiver down his spine, even as he's mentally bracing for eddie to tell him off.
"i'm sorry," he starts, trying to get ahead of it. "i know we said we wouldn't say anything yet, i didn't mean to, it just—"
"buck," eddie interrupts, sounding fond and amused and not the least bit mad at him. "i'm not—did you think i'd be mad at you?"
"uh," buck frowns. "yes? people usually get mad at me when i fuck things up."
"you didn't fuck anything up, though," eddie says, and takes a step closer so buck is caught between him and the wall. he lifts a hand, cupping buck's face and sweeping his thumb across buck's cheekbone. "i mean, i still think it would be good if we could talk to bobby first, figure out if there's, i don't know, some kind of hr paperwork to take care of, but it's not the end of the world if it doesn't go like that."
"i—oh," buck says. "that's—okay."
"i'm not mad," eddie says. "there's nothing to be mad about. i promise." he reaches up to kiss buck, then frowns as he pulls back. "should i be mad about you calling me a weird thing, though?" but his poker face is terrible, and he cracks a grin before he even finishes the sentence.
buck grins right back. "actually, the word weird originally had to do with fate, so i guess you could say i was calling you my destiny."
eddie kisses him again, and right before he does, buck realises he's smiling the same smile he had in the engine, when buck had been talking about the eleven-yolked egg of lore.
"hey," he says, poking at eddie's side. "is this like a thing for you? the facts?"
"you're a thing for me," eddie says, settling his hands on buck's waist. "so, yeah."
buck blushes, fighting the urge to look away from the intensity of eddie's gaze. "you're kind of a thing for me, too," he says.
"i'm glad," eddie says drily. "this morning would have been really awkward otherwise."
"oh, shut up," buck says, and leans down to kiss eddie.
"hey," buck says a moment or three later. "if you're not mad—"
"—not mad," eddie says.
"—then why'd you pull me back here?"
"oh," eddie says. "i just wanted to do this." he kisses buck again, so soft and slow that buck can feel it in his toes.
the alarm goes off just as buck is about to contemplate doing something that is in no way appropriate for the workplace, and he sighs and drops his forehead onto eddie's shoulder.
"eddie," he says. "i love you, but did you really have to make your move five minutes before we started a twenty-four-hour shift?"
"sorry," eddie says, "next time, i'll make sure to plan my spontaneous, blurted-out love confession a little better."
"that's all i'm asking," buck says, and eddie laughs.
"alright, come on, we'd better go before someone comes looking for us."
--
the rest of the day passes in a blur of meaningful glances and stolen moments. buck trails his fingers along eddie's arm when he walks past the table eddie is sitting at, and eddie rests his hand on buck's waist as he passes by. they sit unnecessarily close on the sofa, pressed together from shoulder to hip to thigh, and calls are punctuated by more than one interlude behind the ladder truck.
finally, day fades into night. most of their team starts heading towards the bunk room, hoping to catch at least a little bit of sleep, but buck and eddie stay out in the station loft, curled together on the sofa.
they start out respectfully enough, sure, just two people sitting next to each other, but it barely takes five minutes after the last person leaves the loft for eddie to be tucked against buck, his back to buck's chest. buck has his arms around eddie, hands slipped under his shirt and just resting on the warm skin of his stomach.
the lights are on low, and the only sound in the dim loft is the humming of the kitchen appliances. it makes the world feel a little unreal, like the only things that actually exist are buck and the man in his arms.
buck only got to go to summer camp once before his parents decided it wasn't worth the money, but this feels a little like sneaking away from camp in the middle of the night with the boy from the next cabin over. just the two of them in their own little world.
"hey," he whispers, quiet so he doesn't disturb the world sleeping around them. "i love you."
"i love you too," eddie murmurs, pulling buck's arm closer around him.
--
buck isn't sure what wakes him up some hours later, but he opens his eyes to see chimney's face extremely close to his.
"what's all this?" chimney asks, grinning like he already knows the answer.
"uh," buck starts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand.
"before you say anything," hen says from somewhere behind chimney, "you should know that we definitely saw your hands up his shirt."
"yeah, okay," buck says, and nudges eddie awake. "game over," he says when eddie stirs.
"huh?" eddie asks, shifting and stretching. "what ga—oh."
"good morning, eddie," chimney says, still grinning.
"chimney," eddie mutters. "hen." he inclines his head in their directions, as much as he can while still mostly asleep and tangled with buck's limbs.
"important question," chimney says. "when did this happen? as close to exactly as possible."
"is this for a bet?" buck asks.
"well, he's not doing your astrological charts," hen mutters. "and i don't really know what else he would need exact times for."
"it was the thirteenth day of mind your business," buck says, and feels more than hears eddie's laughter against his chest. "at exactly ten past please let me sleep until there is an actual emergency that requires our attention."
"serves you right," hen says. "told you we should have waited until they woke up."
"still not telling you when we wake up," buck mutters. "maybe if you hadn't rudely woken us for no reason." eddie hums his approval, and buck tightens his arms around him.
hen sighs, but buck could swear he hears a smile in it. "come on, chim," she says. "you'll get it out of them eventually, we can let them sleep for now."
chimney huffs as hen leads him away. buck hides his laughter in the curve of eddie's neck, and presses a kiss to it as he drifts back into sleep.
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upat4amwiththemoon · 3 years
Text
The Scary People Next Door part 3
Summary: Two women move to the neighborhood, it seems like there’s more to them than meets the eye.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Warnings: nightmare (let me know if there are any!)
Word count: 2299
a/n: Finally a new part! Hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated :)
Tags: @madamevirgo @fishlikestuff @hi-i-1 @d14n4ol @simpforwandanat @diaryoflife @emilyprentissslut @idek-5
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Y/N declines Darcy’s call for the fifth time in the span of an hour. She has been trying to call her the whole day, even Monica called her a few times, but Y/N hasn’t answered to any of them. She knew Darcy would eventually end up knocking on her door and possibly breaking in with the help of Monica’s tech if she didn’t answer soon. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and talk to Darcy, yesterday’s events still clear in her head.
Groaning, Y/N plays a voicemail Darcy just left her. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. So, you better answer my next call or I’m coming over with Monica. And if you even think about not opening the door, I’ll call Jane and drag her here to drag your ass out of the bed!” The voicemail ends.
Jane Foster, Y/N and Darcy’s best friend, who neither of them have seen in years. Y/N met her and Erik Selvig through Darcy while she was helping with Jane’s astronomy research for college credit. Y/N decided to tag along and help as much as possible. They became close, and still are to a certain extent, but things happen. Darcy had to leave to finish college and become an astrophysicist, Jane got a new job at S.H.I.E.L.D and Y/N had to find an actual job that is in her skill set rather than being strung along with different doctors.
Jane was always known to be a bit bossy. It wasn’t always a bad thing, she needed to be bossy as a woman in that field of work to be heard and taken seriously. For Y/N that meant doing things that she didn’t want to do, like getting a job. If it wasn’t for Jane, she'd most likely still follow Darcy around like a lost puppy, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. She is very grateful for Jane pushing her into getting a job. That being said, she knows Jane would come over and make her spit out everything if Darcy did call her.
Her phone goes off. Y/N rubs her eyes frustratedly before picking up the phone and answering it. “Hi.”
“Hi? You ignore my calls the whole day and all you say is hi?”
“I’m sorry.” Y/N sighs. “I really just don’t feel like talking today.” She mumbles while laying in her bed. She has been laying on her bed the whole day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. She tried to convince herself that yesterday didn’t affect her, but it did, a lot more than she’d like to admit.
”That’s usually the time you need to talk to people the most.”
She did need someone to talk to. The feeling of rambling everything she feels to Darcy was strong, but the guilt of making her problems Darcy’s problems was bigger.
“I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me and Monica to come over?”
Y/N bites her tongue, Darcy’s words bringing her close to tears. The damned question: Are you okay? That one question makes her want to spill out her guts instantly. “No, I’d rather be alone.”
Darcy mumbles something that Y/N can’t hear, probably to Monica. They have a silent conversation while Y/N waits for Darcy to answer her. “We’ll come over tomorrow.”
Knowing Darcy wasn’t asking her whether or not that’s okay, Y/N just hums in confirmation before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone. After throwing her phone somewhere to the table, she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep.
“Hello!” She yells to the abyss, her voice echoing through the never ending emptiness. “Anyone there?” When Y/N’s only answer is her own voice bouncing back to her, she starts walking. At least she thinks she is walking. The space she’s in is pitch black, so Y/N wasn’t sure if she was moving anywhere.
Suddenly she starts falling. Y/N screams as her body flies down with no signs of stopping. She desperately tries to hold on to something, anything to stop her from falling, but to no avail. There’s nothing around her to grasp onto, only darkness and quiet apart from her screams.
A punch to the face changes her scenery. She groans, trying to lift her hand up to her face but gasping when she isn’t able to. Y/N’s eyes snap open in panic. She looks at her surroundings, noticing it’s the same room she was in not too long ago. However, now it was just a little more unsettling. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so different from the real thing, nothing was visibly wrong. It just felt bad. Perhaps it was because she knew she was in a dream and she had gone through this already.
“Pay attention!” A very distorted voice shouts, punching Y/N to the face once again. She lifts up her head. The what’s supposed to be one of the men that hurt her definitely didn’t look like one. Its whole body was blurry and it moved to every direction. Its voice sounded like someone spoke through a broken megaphone, the voice cracking every now and then.
“What the fuck are you?” Y/N’s voice was a mere whisper compared to the creature.
The thing doesn’t answer, simply smirks, or at least it looks like a smirk. It starts walking around her, glitching when it takes a step forward. As it stops behind the chair, it sets a hand on top of Y/N’s head. She screams, all the pain she felt during that day going through her body in seconds.
Y/N screams as she sits up and looks around her, hands swatting away any remaining feelings of the thing. Her room is darker now, the clock being almost 11 pm. She stands up, runs downstairs and out the front door. This most likely isn’t the best idea, but Wanda did ask her if she wanted to stay at their place. If the question was genuine or not wasn’t clear to Y/N, but right now she’d like to think Wanda meant it.
She didn’t even know why Wanda and Natasha’s house was the first place she thought of. Maybe it was because she felt weirdly comforted by Wanda’s presence, or because they simply were the only people who know what happened.
Knocking on their front door, Y/N starts doubting herself. She almost turns around and leaves, but Wanda opens the door before she can.
“Hey, are you okay?” Wanda’s concern fills her ears. And so the waterworks start. Wanda gasps lightly, pulling Y/N into her arms as she sobs. She whispers sweet nothings to her ear while guiding her inside to sit on the couch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Y/N leans more into Wanda, putting her head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “I couldn’t sleep, I just can’t be alone.” She sniffles, backing away from the hug as she tries to stop crying.
“That’s okay.” Wanda has a gentle smile on her face that melts Y/N inside.
The feeling makes her question everything. Why is she feeling this way? She met Wanda only a week ago. These kinds of feelings weren’t supposed to awaken so soon.
“What’s going on here?” Natasha, who neither of the two noticed coming in, asks.
Y/N looks down, letting Wanda take control of the situation. “She’s staying the night.” She says as if it was obvious, which makes Y/N frown. It wasn’t her plan to stay the whole night, not wanting to bother the two, but she isn’t opposed to the idea.
“Only if that’s okay.” Y/N adds, lifting her head to look at Natasha, who only glances at her before turning to Wanda. They seem to have a silent conversation going on. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for Y/N if they were talking telepathically, knowing Wanda did have some kind of powers.
Her eyes widen. Is she able to read minds? Has she ever read her mind?
Wanda pulls Y/N up from the couch, bringing her back to the present. “Come on. You seem tired.” She leads her upstairs to her room. “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.”
“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”
Wanda smiles, taking Y/N’s hands to her own. “You’re my guest.”
Y/N stares at Wanda’s green eyes, finding herself mesmerised by them. They are beautiful, she could look at them all day. It feels like Y/N is transferred into a whole new world as she feels herself falling deeper into her gaze. Soon she starts relaxing her muscles, Wanda’s gentle smile and sparkling eyes bringing her comfort. Y/N glances at her lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. Judging by Wanda’s widening grin, she is listening to her thoughts. Y/N averts her eyes back to Wanda’s.
“Go ahead.” Wanda says with a playful tint in her voice. Y/N frowns, making Wanda giggle. “Ask what you want to ask. I don’t mind”
She blushes, trying to drop her head down to look at the floor, but Wanda’s hand on her chin stops her. Wanda knowing what she wanted should have scared her more than it did, but right now she didn’t care.
Y/N gives Wanda a shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers. If Wanda hadn’t been so close to her, she would’ve missed it. When Wanda nods, Y/N pulls her closer and kisses her. Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s waist, while her hands travel through Wanda’s hair.
Wanda pulls back, tightening her grasp on Y/N’s hips. Her eyes are a darker shade of green as she kisses Y/N again and again.
For the next two weeks Wanda and Y/N take it publicly slow, hiding whatever they have going on from their friends. Of course, Natasha being a literal spy, she caught on pretty quick. Not that the couple were that good at hiding it. Wanda spent a lot more time at Y/N’s house, sometimes even nights. Natasha wasn’t mad per se, Wanda was so much happier now, but she was hesitant. Dating someone outside of their field of job always proved to be difficult, no matter how many times one of them tried to have a successful relationship. It always failed one way or another.
Wanda didn’t want to think about that. She had heard a lot of dating horror stories from the other Avengers, but she knew she could make it work. She just needed to be careful and choose the best approach of telling Y/N what she really did. She already knew she had magic, that’s one difficult conversation out of the way, and she knew Wanda’s job is something dangerous because of the kidnapping. Not the way Wanda would’ve wanted Y/N to find out, but it’ll make the actual telling easier.
“I’m going to check up on Y/N!” Wanda tells Natasha as she opens the door. She had different excuses to tell Natasha. Checking up on Y/N, helping her cook or fix something, comforting her through hard times and so on. Sometimes they were true. Wanda did help Y/N during a nightmare or a difficult day many times after the unfortunate event.
Natasha hums, her eyes never leaving the television. “Make sure to check her neck better this time, it had quite many bruises on it last time.” Her voice was completely monotone, but she had the tiniest smirk on her face.
Wanda freezes, almost dropping the piece of cake in her hand. “I’m sorry?” She squeaks out.
“I’m just saying.” Natasha turns to look at Wanda. “You two are doing an awful job hiding the signs.”
“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, so someone else must’ve done them. Or perhaps a mosquito, hair straightener, a match... I know all the tricks, Wanda.”
Wanda closes the door, sighing. “Fine, you’re right. What now?”
“That’s not up to me, it’s your call. Just be careful. These kinds of pairings don’t usually last.” Natasha didn’t want to be so pessimistic of their relationship, she has actually started liking Y/N, not that she’d ever let either of them know. She still wanted Wanda to know the hardships these kinds of situations brought into their lives. “Besides, we can’t live here forever, the mission is almost over, then we go back.”
“I know, Nat, I do. I’m not letting that stop me though, because I really want this to work.”
Natasha nods with a smile. “Then I’m rooting for you two.”
“Thank you.” Wanda’s smile returns to her face as she opens the door again. “Now, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Y/N, don’t wait up.” She steps outside and closes the door, not waiting for Natasha’s answer. It would’ve been something witty.
Wanda knocks on Y/N’s door, feeling nervous. Natasha was right. Soon they’d have to go back to the Avengers compound and she couldn’t see Y/N whenever she wanted. It also meant going back to no contact missions. They could last months. Wanda didn’t want to disappear for months with Y/N having no way of knowing whether she was okay or not.
Y/N opens the door, but not with the excited look Wanda was waiting for. Her brows were furrowed and she looked almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you are an Avenger?”
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theringers · 3 years
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V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox
The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it
Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc
Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:
Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)
Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that
Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together
Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff
Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)
Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too
Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category
Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster
George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together
Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out
Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high
Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic
Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him
Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy
Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf
Notable alums:
Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)
Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you
Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm
Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history
Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)
Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic
Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu
i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.
LOOK! AT! THIS!
f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon
i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas
to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby
PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)
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Text
Experiment 05SB
Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”
I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!
Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?
As always, Vore under the cut :)
“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.
“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.
“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”
“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?
“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.
“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?
“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.
“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?
“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.
“Hey I-!”
“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”
“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.
“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.
“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”
“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.
And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.
Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.
“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?
“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“
Gggnnnnnnrrrr…
Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.
Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.
“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.
Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….
“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”
They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-
Hold on.
That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.
Title: Log 073SB
Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx
Author: 2BDamned
Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.
Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.
“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”
There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”
“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”
“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.
“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.
Grrrrroowwwllll…
2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”
The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.
“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”
The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.
“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.
Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.
Glk
Glp~
Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.
“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”
The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.
Glrk
Grk~
“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.
Glp
Glrk~
Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.
“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.
Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.
“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.
“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.
“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.
“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.
“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.
“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.
“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.
Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.
“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”
He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.
—————————
“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.
“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.
“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.
“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”
“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”
As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.
Title: Experiment 05SB
Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx
Author: 2BDamned
Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.
The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-
“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.
“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”
“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”
Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.
“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.
“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”
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