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soobadnoonecanstopher · 2 months ago

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Rat Bastard - Part 4

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 9000

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Cahoots envy, UST

PSA: this couple is called the Rat Couple and their individual names will be Rat Princess and RatSoo (or Rat Basard when we are mad at him)

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You were playing a game. It involved lots of fast moving and tricky words that this small group of people shouted out with cheers or groans depending on how good or bad they felt the words had been. You didn’t really get it. The explanations at the beginning went too quickly and you might have nodded off during the vital parts.

Obviously you were losing this game. It was a drinking game but you had nothing invested as your drinks no longer contained any alcohol. You had almost no other reason to keep playing except for boredom which, you were surprised to learn about yourself, was a pretty good motivator.

You’d been given a virgin drink to sip on by a thoroughly-scholded, Javier. He could hardly meet your eyes after being accused by his coworkers of ‘nearly killing the only girl we have.’ The marker board had come out again. There was now a ‘wall of shame’ section and Javier’s name was written in angry looking capitalized red letters.

‘A category five!’

‘I just didn’t expect an adult to have such a low alcohol tolerance.’

‘How could you tell her where the patio door was?’

‘Why were the drinks so strong?’

‘You told me to get her drunk!’

‘Just last week some guy died from falling off a stool. People have died from much less.’

‘The wall of babies conceived during the Serenity Sands Resort Singles Retreat is something to be proud of. Adding a death toll to the wall is not.’

‘Cat-Te-Go-Ry Five!’

‘We add to the population, we do not subtract.’

‘To be fair, it’s as if she has almost no sense of survival.’

Your mumbled and slurred declarations of how completely fine you were had gone unheard.

You’d long been eliminated from this game by the time your mind began to sharpen to what was actually happening. It was after Kyungsoo won a prize. You hadn’t even realized there were prizes, but the whole group of people were gathered around a table with various odds and ends, one of which was up for grabs each time a game was won. Because the seven of you were trapped here in this bunker for a week with minimal possessions, a few items had been brought over from the hotel, things that normally would not be so valuable but given the current state of things, these items suddenly had a whole new appeal.

There were a few emergency ponchos for the rain, pairs of waterproof rain boots to keep muddy flood water from seeping inside of your shoes, bug spray, lip balm, ear plugs, wet wipes, a big bag of marshmallows and lots of other snacks, a powerful flashlight and separately, a big pack of batteries for the flashlight or whatever other item needed them. The winner would need to either win both or be in cahoots with the person who won the other. Your eyes zeroed in on the high thread-count luxury blanket with real down feathers and beside it, a cheaper and lighter blanket with such a low thread count the package didn’t even advertise it. You remembered that your beds back there were made up with the bare minimum, just a fitted sheet, a sad pillow and a bed sheet that was so thin it would have been transparent if that room had any windows other than the tiny ones in the bathrooms.

Your now sharper mind began to really understand the stakes. This wasn’t only a drinking game. You’d be stuck here for a week. The small radio that Kyungsoo just won put a blinding smile on his face and you looked around the room at the stacks of items the other people had won. Sara won a neck pillow and an eye mask for sleeping. Mr. Chen, ever the diplomat, won a pack of bar soaps that he promptly ripped open and passed one around to everyone, leaving one sad little bar down at your feet with a pitiful smile. Roxy had won a jumbo pack of ramen and a camping stove and Jun had won butane fuel for the stove. It seems some cahoots were already in the works. The pair didn't even bother to separate their stacks of prizes.

Then and there you made a promise to pay attention to the rules of the next game and you actually felt a wave of relief pass through you when you realized that the next game wasn’t one that required much difficult thinking but only required you to be quick with your hands. Or more specifically the tiny stretchy sticky hand that you’d been given. Everyone got one and the smallest white button that had fallen off of Javier’s sleeve was placed on the surface, in the middle of the big table.

The object of the game was simple. First one to grab the button wins. There were a few practice throws allowed before the battle began and the table erupted in quiet chaos and giggles as everyone quickly realized that these things had very little control or aim to them. You simply threw it vaguely in the direction of the button as fast as you could and if you got lucky you might grab something other than some other player’s sticky hand.

The practice round was declared finished. Not a single hand grabbed the button on the table and clear reminders of the rules were announced before a countdown was called out and it was time.

You needed to win something. Once the go was given, you and everyone else was frantic with it. Slapping sounds echoed all around the room and there was screaming and yelping as hands came close to the button. You were moving so quickly you hadn’t realized you’d bumped up elbows with the person beside you and in the excitement you’d reached a hand out to hold him back. Kyungsoo was creeping into your space. The only thing you could do was fight him off with your free hand. You reached for his forearm and pulled him back, trying to get his tossing hand back enough so you could break through. The sound of everyone’s laughter was like a drug. The mood of the game was so fun and exciting you hadn’t even noticed that it was the sounds of Kyungsoo’s giggles that paired so well with your own. That it was a sound you’d never before heard in your life, the mixture of both of your laughter with his laughter and the two voice tones blended so beautifully together you had to force your eyes to look away from the giggling profile of his face so you could focus on the game.

Through the struggle and the giggles when you pulled your sticky hand back quickly you shot it forward again and to your absolute shock your hand landed square on top of the button in the center of the table and quickly whipped it backward, trapping it right in front of you on the table. You reached down with a shout and gripped that button and you stood up in happiness as the entire rest of the table groaned at the loss.

You’d done it. You’ve finally won something. You were jumping up and down with excitement and you couldn't help the drift of your eyes over to the man who sat beside you with a pretty smile still on his face. He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, letting the straight black strands fall back into place slowly and his dark eyes watched you for a few moments with that breathtaking smile taking just a bit of your oxygen and making it stutter inside of your lungs. You’d been denying it to yourself, refusing to admit even inside of your head just how beautiful he was, but again and again you would lose that battle. It had been getting worse lately, the longer stretches of time you got to actually look at him and the longer stretches of time when you actually held his brown eyes with your own.

Someone steered you to the big table of prizes and handed you an enormous multipack of batteries. Batteries that would power any one of these hand held devices such as the flashlight and even that small radio that Kyungsoo had stashed underneath his chair.

The weight of this prize brought a change inside of you. You had won the power, quite literally. Everyone who won an electronic device needed you. You had what might be considered currency.

“Roxy, I’ll give you the batteries for your portable fan for one pack of ramen,” you said as you sat down and her eyes widened and she nodded her head, ripping open the multipack of noodles and tossing them over to you in exchange for two small batteries. You had so many of them and curious eyes were now offering small trades.

Once the trading had started you noticed others making small deals as well. Kyungsoo gave Roxy a can of spam for some ramen and you looked at the several cans he had left and then down at his powerless portable radio but you lost the nerve to say anything to him when he looked at you. You just looked away and avoided his eyes until the next game started. The sticky hands game was quick and popular, more prizes were handed out, and you all played it again and again until all the sticking power wore off and nobody was able to grab ahold of anything anymore.

If you were meant to be avoiding this man those plans went out the window with the announcement of the next game. This one would be played in pairs and your eyes touched upon every single person in this room except for the man sitting beside you begging to God they hadn’t already settled on their person. Of course they were all taken, the dirty rats.

“Okay so you, and Kyungsoo,” Mr. Chen clapped his hands, “excellent, that works out perfectly.”

You’d cooperated with him already. You’d both worked quite closely and very well together in the kitchen when he was cooking blindfolded, but that was before the blowup outside. Before you hurt his feelings for real this time, he called you an asshole, and you drunkenly tried to blame your cruel, hateful words on the actions of the other people in this room when you got caught by him. Even as upset as he had obviously been, he still swooped in and caught you before you could fall off the patio and hurt yourself. But he’d not said a single word to you since, and even only looked at you when absolutely necessary.

This game was more physical. There was a big bowl of flour and two spoons and the task was to hold the spoon with your mouth and use it to scoop flour. You were then to transfer the flower scoop to your partner’s spoon and they took it to another bowl which sat on a scale. The fastest team to transfer 40 grams of flour won. The prize was the pair of blankets and while you weren’t about to share your new high thread count luxury blanket with this man, you could be convinced to give him the cheap one.

“There’s a catch,” Mr. Chen explained and you groaned in annoyance as you took the spoon back out of your mouth to listen to the added condition of the game that was being explained. “You must both stand within the same square on the tile during the flour transfer. Touching each other is allowed.”

You both looked down at the floor, realizing that these floor tiles were tiny. Maybe your feet and his feet would fit if you stood exactly on one side of the tile but it would have to be very close. In fact, everything about your bodies would need to be close for this.

Sara had her hand raised and Mr. Chen quickly added that pregnant persons with big bellies could use up two tiles. Everyone else was limited to one.

When the game began, Kyungsoo was standing closest to the flour supply so you simply stood at the halfway point, placing your feet carefully within your tile. From the looks of his shoes, it was likely he could manage to fit one foot between your two, and the other on the other side while remaining within the perimeter lines. He was coming with his spoon suspended in his mouth and a mountain of flour filling the spoon. He was coming with a big white spot of flour on his chin and several white spots down his cheek and what was probably hidden all over his white shirt and when he reached you, you felt him place his first foot in between yours and carefully place the other within the tile. With his feet in place the warmth of his body quickly followed and you felt the length of him pressing up against your body from thigh to chest. Oh god.

Your eyes were wide open and he looked into them with a quiet urgency in the small grunt he gave you. His head tiled the smallest amount, not enough to spill his flour but enough to tell you that your spoon was not at the right angle to receive and that you should tilt your head.

You could feel your heart beating inside of your ears with him standing so very close to you and you had to remind yourself that this was only for the game. This was only to win the prizes, your blankets. You would sleep warm and comfortable tonight if you won those blankets.

A commotion beside you called your attention briefly and you began to turn your head. Someone had coughed a faceful of flour on their partner and someone was coughing and laughing noisily.

Kyungsoo’s hand reached up and you felt the warmth of his palm land over your cheek, pulling your face to look at him again. He’d lifted his other hand just high enough to wrap around the small of your back and you felt the gentle pull there as he pulled you in closer to where he stood inside this tile. He was just refocusing you. He was only directing your face so you could tilt your head into him to gather all of the flour he brought to you and you held your breath as his head tilted further and the white flour fell into your own spoon.

He let you go and he stepped back, inhaled a deep breath as he moved, his eyes widened with a nod of his head and you quickly turned around to take the spoon to the scale. You had more than 10 grams already. You only had to do this three more times to win. You glanced around at the other teams, one who was still transferring, and the other who had gone back to square one covered in white flour all over their faces and hair.

Your waist and your face felt all dumb and tingly, your skin was acting unreasonable to be so undeservedly affected by his touch. He wasn’t even touching you because he wanted to. This was for the game. It has just been so very long since a handsome man actually put his hands on you.

When you returned to your tile, Kyungsoo was already coming with another spoonful. He was less careful with his touch this time and you felt the strong warmth of his hand that he placed on your waist the second he reached the tile and situated his feet. Your hands lifted to lightly touch the side of his waist to keep your balance and this time as he was turning his head to dump the flour, half of the flour seemed packed on his spoon, refusing to budge. You had to touch him more, you lifted your hand and guided his face more. You could see the moment the powder dislodged and plopped neatly inside of your spoon and you were glad you were holding your breath because you nearly laughed in excitement to see it fall. You were rushing to the scale, careful to not jostle your precious cargo any more than necessary.

This had been a bigger spoonful. Your totals were 25 grams already, much more than any of the other teams.

You gave him an encouraging nod of your head and he had a smile in his eyes that sent him rushing back to the bowl before you could even make it back to the tile he was waiting with both of his arms outstretched for you, hands falling easily into place now, faces tilted in a position with him that to anyone who might be viewing this from the back may seem romantic. It was definitely close enough to kiss his pretty lips if not for these blasted spoons.

You had your flour scoop secured and his eyes widened marginally when you lifted a hand to lightly brush stray the white powder off his cheek before you turned to deposit your spoon.

You were almost there. The sense of urgency moved your body and you rushed back to where he stood waiting for you with his spoon positively loaded up with flour.

You collided with him with more force than you had before, your desire to win clouding your judgment and with the impact you felt more of his firm body pressed against you. You felt more of the hardness of his thighs that flexed when you placed your own over him, straddling his legs so you both would fit perfectly in this tiny space. When his hand pulled you harder into him he used his entire hand and forearm and you were reminded of the position he caught you in out there in the rain when the thumping of your heartbeats seemed to scream even louder than the torrential rain hitting the roof of the patio; when the heat you felt between his legs pressed into you sent an overwhelming wave of warmth and attraction radiating through your belly and brought along a damp flush to your skin.

You didn’t have time for all of this. He was tilting his head into you and his hand was on your face, cradling your cheek, your jaw, your ear, slipping down the smoothness of your neck and his eyes were closing as he lightly exhaled through his nose. The flour moved. You caught the bit of some of it falling off the spoon and you felt the tickle as some of it fell over your bare chest.

Impossibly and as if he had been possessed, you felt the smallest brushes of his soft, warm fingertips along the skin below your collarbone, brushing away the little mess he had made of you there.

When his eyes pulled up you were staring into his face and you didn’t have time to decipher any of this because you needed to be moving. You hoped it would be enough. You spun carefully on your heels and you could feel the shadow of him following your journey as you made it to the scale and poured the contents of your spoon.

“43 grams!” Mr Chen shouted and you heard groans of disappointment from the other two teams, you heard the metal clanging as discarded spoons fell to the floor or landed and echoed on a table and your body felt as if it might be on fire from just how much Kyungsoo had been touching you during the game. Every single cell that his skin had touched felt electrified and when you spun to look into his face you caught the most beautiful smile of genuine happiness there.

It pulled the smile of celebration from your own chest and you laughed and leaned into him, lightly bumping your shoulders against his bicep, not quite trusting yourself to openly celebrate so freely with this man.

You felt it then, the smallest reach of his arm that he lifted and wrapped lightly around your waist, you felt the small pull of him there as he did it and you gasped in surprise to feel the brush of his fingers that landed over your hair. He was grinning and brushing flour out of your hair. He was happy and he was so beautiful and you smiled back at him, tapping away some of the flour that had fallen from his chest and when his eyes reached into yours you caught the shift as the smile slowly flattened out and he cleared his throat, pulling his eyes quickly away from your face and pulling both of his hands back to himself.

If you hadn’t been holding them together your hands might have been trembling.

It was time to claim your prizes so you steadied your expression as quickly as you could, making excuses about how sometimes the nature of celebrating wins involved tiny touches and achingly deep eye blinks with each other and trying to ignore the longing you felt to feel the temperature of his skin pressed up against yours like that again. This was getting out of hand.

You both looked down at the two blankets, one of them clearly more superior than the other and Roxy suggested you both have a competition to see who got the good one.

Someone said arm wrestling, someone else suggested a straight up fight for it and Kyungsoo snorted with laughter and reached out to grab ahold of your wrist, wrapping his fingers easily around it he lifted your arm and shook it wildly.

“I could snap her in two,” he said and you pulled your wrist back from him forcefully, not quite having the strength to fully break free from him until you felt his grip relax and he just let you go. You knew he was right but that didn’t stop the wave of undeserved confidence that surged through you; foolishly believing deep down inside that if you fought dirty enough you could probably take him in a fight. You’d go for the weak points first, obviously the crotch shot, then the eye balls, and you’d end with a throat punch that would send him to the hospital. You’d completed two self defense courses in your life and you knew if you hit him right now, when he wasn’t expecting it, you could win. As long as you didn’t give him any advanced notice of what you were up to.

You’d always had trouble with intrusive thoughts. You reached for him quickly from behind and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, reaching your hands around for his neck and he gave the smallest grunt of genuine surprise to find you so suddenly and aggressively climbing on his back like a flying squirrel might stupidly try to attack a gorilla. His grunt of surprise changed into a small grunt of effort and you felt a sudden but definite shift inside of his back muscles.

You should have known better than to attack from behind. Not someone with such a strong back as he had. You felt his arm muscles contract and he reached his hands around to grab you, you felt him bend at the waist and you felt him spin right inside of your arms. He had the upper hand in less than a second and you could yourself fully encased and trapped well inside of his arms as he casually lifted you right off of your feet and plopped you back down, lifting you up easily just to show you that he could. He took two quick steps with you trapped completely inside of his arms and you moved like a puppet. His hands had reached down, squeezing you tighter when you struggled against him and he grabbed ahold of both of your hands, keeping you from being able to tickle him or pinch any of his skin, as you had instantly tried to do. You were completely trapped.

“See,” he whispered into your ear, the heat of his chest laid against your back and you fell back into that same familiar feeling of being pressed up against his body, “you can’t beat me, Princess.” His voice skipped over your neck traveling slowly up your earlobe until his words sunk down deep within your ear.

You turned your head toward his voice and you felt the softness of his cheek press against your own and as he spoke you could smell the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. You might have been the more sober of the two right now. You were also the most desperate. You wanted that blanket badly. You moved into the head turn and you let your lips land against his skin, just high enough on his cheek to find his ear with your message to him.

“I’ll give you batteries for your radio,” you whispered against his skin, using the same low tone and sultry whisper he had used on you seconds earlier and you allowed your lips to pop the smallest bit, letting the softness of your lips play every so lightly with the softness of his earlobe. “Please let me win,” you whispered into his skin. The effect moved through him like a wave. It rippled through the muscles that held you tightly within his arms. You felt the nearly silent groan that originated somewhere deep inside of his chest that echoed throughout your back and with the groan you felt him cave in.

“Come on, that’s not a fair fight,” someone shouted from the back of the group, “he’s a man, and she’s a woman, how is that fair?”

But you could feel it, he had been ready to give in. He was relaxing his grip and you leaned against his back, pushing lightly against him as if you were really fighting this strong man off of you for show. As if you even wanted to get the heavy weight of his entire body off of you.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” someone else shouted, “ play for the blanket.”

He had let you go. You’d taken a step away from him and you turned back around to look into his face. His breathing seemed just a little bit hard for such a tiny struggle with you and you noticed his cheeks were quite pink as he looked into your eyes. You saw the smallest movement there. He blinked his eyes once as he lifted his chin the smallest degree. It felt like a gesture of agreement and you caught another motion as he lifted his hand and made a discrete fist with it, lifting his chin once more with a nod.

He accepted your terms and he was going to play rock.

The others were already shouting the commands to begin the rock, paper, scissors round and you had to quickly play your hand. You shot out a flat hand for paper and it landed squarely over his closed fist as he played the rock that he had promised you he would play.

“She’s the winner!” Javier shouted and you smiled wide and genuine — your evening was finally beginning to look up a little bit. You jumped up and down in happiness and you rushed to the table to grab your blanket and curiously you could still feel his brown eyes watching as you did it. There was an odd expression on his face for someone who had lost the round. His eyes followed you around the room as you’d celebrated your little win and you could have sworn you could see the smallest smile on his lips when he went to the table to retrieve his loser’s blanket. You couldn’t quite understand why he would have looked pleased by this. You won and he lost.

Oh right, his batteries. He must have been happy about getting batteries and a blanket out of this deal. If you were a blanket-less pauper, you might have also been happy to receive such a low quality crappy blanket.

You couldn't quite remember the last time you felt so happy to win something so dumb. You just knew this would solve all of your nighttime problems. You skipped up to him holding your prize and you quickly stuffed it under your seat next to the other goodies you’d either won or traded to obtain, feeling pretty damn good about how the rest of the week might go. If you had to, you’d just spend the whole week in bed under this blanket and catch up on all of the missed sleep you’d ever missed in your life.

When you stood up, Kyungsoo was standing right behind you with his hand outstretched toward you in a surprisingly congenial gesture of a handshake for a job well done. ‘Good job,’ his posture said, with a pleased smile on his smooth face. You reached your hand forward fully ready to make this change in your relationship with the man. Like a pair of coworkers who got along sometimes. Not friendly by any means but still able to get the job done if they were being paid to. You’d accept his congratulations. He was right, you had done a really good job of winning this and he should be thankful to you for how well you could walk with a spoonful of flour and dump it into a bowl without spilling a speck. If only that was a skill you could market. Your balance and coordination should be studied.

The second the skin of your palm touched his and you gripped your fingers around his hand to shake it, he pulled his hand back abruptly and came back hard with a swift smack of his hand against yours. Was this some sort of trendy side-five, not a high-five or a low-five, but a side-five?

“No, idiot. Batteries.” He said gruffly after swatting away your hand shake. He wasn’t here to make peace at all. He was here to claim what was his. His face didn’t look as grumpy as he usually did, but he seemed to be back to calling you names.

“I’ll give them to you in the room.” You said under your breath, a little bit of your earlier joy from having won something so precious deflated by the return of his crappy behavior.

He leaned his head closer to where you stood, “don't want the others to know that you’re a cheater?”

“I didn't cheat. I just made a deal. Something I wanted for something you wanted,” you said with a flippant dismissal and all it got from him was a doubtful scoff.

“Always playing a game, huh,” he remarked under his breath and it pulled your focus back on him for a few moments. There was something under the surface with his words. Something darker than the golden aura of winning.

Your memory flashed to the blurry drunk view you had of him and the actual hurt you saw in his eyes. The hurt you had trouble really understanding because it felt so unwarranted. There had never been any pretense to the way you felt about each other. You hated him and he hated you and people who hate each other don’t get to look that hurt when someone says something hateful, it’s a given. He said awful things to you all the time although now that you really got to thinking you were having a hard time finding an example of something truly mean he said to you. Something that wasn’t just a reaction to something you did first. Try as you might, you couldn’t bring up anything concrete. The nature of your very specific problem you had with him, that he had so callously rejected you back then kept you on edge around him so much that nearly every interaction you had with him had you on the attack. You always came out swinging first and asked questions later.

“Hey, Kyungsoo — I really, really didn’t mean all that stuff I told Sara about you —” this was difficult to get out but you really hated sitting on an unspoken apology when you had done something wrong.

If Kyungsoo’s unwavering focus was what you wanted — if his deep dark brown eyes looking into your face with every bit of his attention focused up close on every single centimeter of you from your eyes down to your lips, then you certainly had gotten what you wanted. His eyelids pulled wider when he realized what you were saying. His lips parted and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip.

You inhaled to continue, “I was … drunk, yeah, but I still don’t — I didn’t —,” you couldn’t get any more details out, not with as closely as he was looking at you.

“I-It wasn't for you to hear, it was for her. I��m sorry if that was super mean of me.”

“It was,” he agreed, “mean,” he added for clarity and he inhaled to speak again, lifting his chest and shoulders with the breath and lifting his hand to run over the length of his face. You could feel the agitation in every motion of his body. The drink he still held in his hand rattled with the movement.

He half spun with it and came back, his voice teetering along the edges of anger, “it wasn’t for me to hear? That’s it? I was supposed to hear you saying all of that shit? Is that your apology attempt?”

“No, that’s not — that’s not what I mean,” he had to be the most difficult person to make your point with.

“Then what do you mean?” His lips closed as he pulled his bottom lip inside his closed mouth, his eyebrows lifting in question, “hmmm?” he prodded again. You figured you had about five seconds before another argument and another fight erupted and this time you didn’t even have a high balcony to hurl yourself off of.

“I know we don’t get along, but I don’t even really hate you. Not really. I mean, we got off to the worst start ever, not that there ever was anything to start, that’s not what I mean,” you sighed in frustration — this was so difficult to explain.

“I don’t hate you. I don’t think it’s the absolute worst thing in the world to be here with you. Actually working together on these games today, it seems like maybe we work together well, at least.”

Some of the wildness you’d seen in his eyes a few seconds ago had left with your rapid explanation. He still watched your face with rapt attention and the burdensome feeling under the scrutiny of his eyes had your face blushing and your voice cracking a little bit. You felt silly for having such a strong reaction to something as simple as a conversation with the goal of clearing the air.

You chuckled lightly to yourself, both with how silly you felt being this nervous and with the very beginnings of the thought that crept through your mind.

“This is only the first day,” you laughed lightly to yourself. Kyungsoo did not laugh or even smile. His lips were pulled into a flat line and he didn’t respond right away with any indication of what he was thinking.

“Maybe,” you closed your eyes and inhaled a breath, “maybe we could just be … f-friends?” You could feel the shape of your mouth pull into a grimace when you said it. The upward inflection put the ball squarely in his court to decide what he thought about your call for a truce and maybe even some of those cahoots you’d been dreaming about.

Kyungsoo didn’t respond right away. His eyes watched your face very closely and you caught the hard clench of his jaw and the half lidded blink as his eyes closed down. He inhaled the smallest breath and just under that tiny breath and using only the air and almost no volume of his voice you could barely make out a response from him

“‘Friends’” he whispered and you thought you might have heard a follow up response “friends is the last thing I want to be with you.”

He said it so quietly you doubted you’d even heard it the second the next inhale sounded out from his lungs. He cleared his throat at a normal volume and opened his eyes, that same pretty pinkness coloring his cheeks as he inhaled again, deeper and more committed this time and on the exhale he spoke. The words were slightly tinged with the alcohol on his tongue.

“Friends,” he said with more commitment, “umm, maybe… let’s just hold off on that for now.” His eyes formed a squint that matched the grimace you’d had on your face earlier and with his soft but decidedly sharp denial you felt the heat slip up your neck and touch along both of your cheeks. “It's just — the things you do and say always feel like a trick and I’m getting a little burned out tonight.”

His rejection of you time and time again burned against your skin but you needed him to expand on the first thing, that whispered, just under his tongue response that set off weird bubbles inside of your stomach with the strangeness of the sound of those exact words.

You had to speak. “What did you say the first time?”

He shook his head slowly back and forth as a response.

“‘Friends is the last thing I want to be with you’ — does that mean you really do hate me?”

His lips were closed and his head was pulled back. The pretty hair layed flat atop of his head after the distraction of his hand running through it had taken your attention from his dark eyes for a split second.

“I think I’m the drunk one now,” he said as a final response to your questions and you could feel the door slam shut. He downed the last of his drink and headed away from you toward Javier at the bar who was already ready with another one.

You watched him walk away from you and he didn’t turn back around.

You felt almost ready to give up. Ready to crawl into your bed, under your new blanket and block out the rest of the world for a solid week. You’d just avoid him entirely to save yourself any more humiliation. Not only did he not want to go on that date with you, but this handsome, charming, funny, and talented man didn’t even want to be friends with you. Even that was unbearable to him. How awful of a person were you?

You reached down beneath your seat and gathered your things, catching Sara’s worried eyes as you made your way toward the door to this kitchen that led back to that dark and scary hallway that would take you to your bed.

“We're calling it a night — already?” Mr. Chen’s voice broke through the laughter and giggles from the others who were still hallway through their drinks and clearly not ready to call it a night. You were fresh out of any more ability to be social and happy when you had been so obviously put in your place again and again.

“She’s feeling a little done so we are taking her things to her room — might settle in already,” Sara spoke up for you and soon was by your side linking her arm with yours as she helped you with the door, “don’t stay up too late, we might have a long stormy night ahead of us!” She called behind her toward the group in a cheerful voice. You heard an agreeing sound from Mr. Chen as he declared the same sentiment to the rest of the group.

Apparently the eye of the storm was supposed to come ashore within the next few hours and nobody knew how much sleep was possible with such a scary and loud event happening outside. Once through the doorway a click sounded out and your pathway was illuminated by a tiny flashlight she had in her hand. You knew for a fact that she hadn’t won that in the games and she gave you a knowing smile and a wink.

“Shhh, I got you one too. Nobody would dare search a pregnant woman,” she giggled and her brightness paired with the little metal cylinder she slipped into the palm of your hand brought your rotten mood up just a tiny bit.

You’d both made it all the way down the long hallway to the door of the bunks and you were thankful for the bathroom light Kyungsoo had left on before he left this room because it was empty, deserted, and quite spooky even with the lighting, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like at night when the lights were turned out. You looked all the way down to the end of this enormous room where his bed waited for him and you wondered just how many spiders stood between you and him in this big room.

“What happened? Did you two argue again?” She pleaded with her kind eyes, you could see the sincerity in her face and you sighed deeply as you unwrapped the new blanket and spread it out over the top of your bed. Something about your mood made this pretty, comfy thing feel just a little bit less than before.

“Yeah. No. Not really. I don’t know. I apologized to him for what I said. He neither accepted or denied it. I asked if he wanted to at least be friends and he doesn’t. So—” you lifted your eyebrows with a hopeless shrug.

“It’s the first day.” She said with a softening of her voice. She didn’t offer any promises or give you any more false hopes. All she had was a flimsy fact that you knew as well.

“I think I’ll shower before he gets here,” you grabbed your clothes and bath towels, also grabbing your swimsuit just in case the man happened to walk into that bathroom as you were sudsing your hair in the open layout wall of showers with no doors layout of this bunker style bathroom.

Sara said her good nights and you quietly changed into the solid black bikini you’d been toning your body and dieting for months to look amazing in and when you caught the reflection of yourself after rinsing the shampoo of your hair in the industrial mirror that was half rusted and cloudy with how old it was, you were thankful that at least you could still pull off a look this sexy even if your ego was thoroughly shattered by him.

That you could still look and feel pretty even after being rejected over and over again by the only man you’d ever agreed to be set up on a blind date with; the only man you’d ever been interested in enough to even consider deleting your dating profiles for and the man who you’d drive a solid hour facing the setting sun to reach the east side location of the swankiest restaurant in town to meet him that evening even if it meant braving rush hour traffic on the hectic and terrifying freeway to get there.

These showers worked on some sort of a timer. You pressed the button for a good amount of water pressure and flow and after several minutes the water would wind down, asking for another press of the button if you wanted more. You’d finished cleaning and rinsing and you were toweling off your legs after wringing all of the wet out of your hair. The water was still running noisily but had been winding down when you took your first steps out of the showering area and made your way toward the concrete tiled bench built into the wall where you’d left your folded clothes and the sound of the winding down trickle of the shower was replaced with a different and unexpected sound. It was the sound of a gasp, the quick intake of air made through the open mouth of an adult human being, a man. A man you knew.

The sound startled you enough to spin around and the towel you had over your head and nowhere near covering your bikini clad body slipped out of your surprised fingers and pooled down at your feet.

Burning into your skin was the deep brown of his eyes and he stood at the open space just at the foot of where his bed ended and the bathroom began with a true deer caught in the headlights look on his face.

He must have been pretty drunk. His eyes sank slowly down from your face, slipping lower and his mouth hung open, that same look of genuine surprise still spelled out all over his face.

“S-Shit, I’m,” he inhaled through his open mouth, using every last morsel of willpower left inside of him to pull his eyes up from where they’d been lazily lingering around your hips and with the single word he had left to squeak out you got the smallest, “sorry.”

You bent down to pick up the towel and spun around turning your back on the man. You weren’t in the mood to open up another hateful conversation with him right now. All you wanted was to have the strength to ignore that look you’d seen in his eyes just now so you could slip past him and go hide under your covers.

It was uncomfortable to put dry clothes over your wet bathing suit but the alternative was to strip down naked with him standing right there so you could dress yourself properly.

You felt too flustered and too much in a hurry for that and Kyungsoo was still very much frozen in place in the doorway. Drunk and slow. An immovable object.

You slipped on the silky nightshirt over the bathing suit. It would dry eventually. This nightshirt curved the shape of you and hung down to the middle of your thighs, it didn’t come with shorts and you didn’t usually mind. You hadn’t packed your bags with the idea that you’d be haunted by this bastard all night long and you might be better off sleeping in grubby sweat pants and an old t-shirt.

You needed to leave the bathroom. You’d made the requisite numbers of steps to reach the doorway and in any other situation with a normal, not inebriated, drunk or not, non-friend that he proudly proclaimed himself to be, the expectation was that he would bow his head, stop looking at you like he’d just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar and move out of the damn way.

When you reached him in this doorway; he did not move and his eyes remained fixed on you. Something must be wrong with him. The look in those eyes felt different from any looks he had shot you before and something warm and achingly slow tickled a path down the length of your spine starting somewhere in between your shoulder blades and landing softly and deeply, well inside of your belly.

Kyungsoo was not moving out of the your way, you had to touch his arm lightly to push against the warm weight of him and when you did it, his hand moved, his soft rounded fingertips reached forward and you felt the smallest brush of them over the back of your hand, you felt the smallest touch from his reaching fingers that sent the biggest jolt of electricity through your startled brain because this was not allowed. It was not expected and it was not something he would ever be caught dead doing to you.

Why? Why would he touch you here and like that when he in all other places was filled with so much disdain for you. The shockingly noisy thumping inside of your chest echoed inside the hollow of you and you felt the stickiness of the gravity that must have been holding him here in this place. That gravity grabbed ahold of your feet so tightly and the stubborn things refused to move. You could see your destination but his fingers were touching the back of your hand and there was a burning just below your eyelids pulling your lids open, demanding that you open your eyes and look into his face.

He was watching you with the slowest blinks of his eyes and his lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth. His breathing felt so light and careful you wondered if he could manage to get any oxygen from it at all the moment you were caught inside of his eyes you felt like a prisoner here.

That warmth that has spread over your spine flooded and surged inside of you, finding a home between your legs and you felt not only trapped but now helplessly compelled.

You were leaning. The breath from his lips smelled like liquor. You were leaning and the brush from his fingertips moved as he touched lightly at first over your waist and then his hot palm was resting just over your hip and he took the smallest step into you, taking what was left of your air from you when the heat from his body cascaded into your much colder skin. The silk nightshirt did nothing to insulate his temperature and you could not escape this. The moment he lifted his hand and laid a palm just over your jaw you felt too lost to keep your eyes open.

The millimeters of space that separated the two of you evaporated when the warmth of his soft mouth touched your lips and when he pulled your bottom lip into the space of his open mouth and sucked, his hands clenched hard into the flesh of your hip, slipping around to dig roughly over your ass, his hand slipped around behind your neck and his mouth devoured and demanded from you as that unimaginable heat you felt between his legs pressed into you, begging you to have mercy on him; have mercy on yourself; put both of you out of your miseries.

Your skin felt aflame. You couldn’t remember another time in your life when you’d felt so desperate and completely consumed by another person in such a short amount of time.

You wanted him. You’d give anything to have him and yet the small gasps for air from his lungs in between the kisses had the tiniest grunts of complaints under their tones.

Tiny curses came from deep within his chest. Your mind reeled and sharpened to the sounds he made and that same desperation reminded you of the very last thing he’d said to you. That he wanted nothing to do with you. That he didn’t even see the possibility of being friends with you. That you would always only be an enemy to him. Untrustworthy and unlovable. You felt it then, it broke through the rough nibbles of his teeth against the soft skin of your neck and you gasped in a breath to ask him a question — your conscience could not let you stand for this without asking.

“Kyungsoo, I thought — that you didn’t want this — what — what are we doing?”

You were an idiot. It felt like it had to be asked and yet your body clung tightly to him despite it all — just because of the possibility that he didn’t mean any of this, that it was just the alcohol driving this desperation, that this was the kind of mistake that would destroy the both of you in the morning — you simply could not let this happen if any of those were a possibility.

“Kyungsoo, is this — a mistake?”

Your questions pulled his face up and the darkness had built inside his eyes to such an extent that it took him several seconds of looking into your face for you to see the shift of understanding to break through. With the understanding came the painful and horrible when he pulled his hand up to cover over his parted mouth and mumbled the quickest “I’m sorry,” before he covered up any other terrible words he might have been about to say to you.

You felt his retreat with the temperature drop.

It had been what you feared. It was only the alcohol taking ahold of his body and making it betray his heart. For inside of his heart, there would never be a place for you. The crushing feeling you felt inside of your stomach pulled your shoulders down and you were sure the look on your face would be close to tears but he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

He had separated his body from you and your wounded feelings flared up hot, desperate for something to ease some of the pain. You found none.

Kyungsoo was shaking his head back and forth and another soft apology landed with a dull thud against your hollow chest. The echo sounded like the beat of a funeral drum.

“I — I’m going to bed,” you whispered with what last bits of your voice you could find to work and paused briefly to ask something else just for the sake of your own wounded ego, “Does this make us even?” His eyes pulled up from his dazed focus down on the floor and he looked into your face when you asked the question.

“And I know it didn’t mean anything, Kyungsoo. I knew it was just the alcohol. I was just drunk then and you were just drunk now.” You pushed the corners of your mouth up as hard as you could stand and they may have even moved up a tiny bit.

You hoped to God he was too drunk to have noticed the wetness that settled heavy inside of your eyes and you were suddenly and eternally thankful that your bed was as physically far away from his bed as possible.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

#exo fanfiction #exo smut #kyungsoo #exo fic #kyungsoo fic #exo story

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billkaulitzwife · 3 months ago

Text

The Outsiders Nowadays (in 2024).

Ponyboy (born 2010)

on playstation 24/7

“FIVE MORE MINUTES, DARREL.”

his username is smth stupid like ‘smokersleftlung’ or ‘mylittlep0ny’

“wya?” when ur at his door

vapes.

SORRY.

noah kahan lover

jeans, steel toe boots, camo shirt, neon orange jacket.

would try to get his friends to read

but gets called a dork :)

“Something in the Orange” on full blast while thinking of Cherry

posts horrendous .5s of himself on snap

typa guy to hold a fish on his instagram

favourite show is probably yellowstone

Johnny (born 2008)

loves open boxing the gang !

sad he has an xbox and not ps like the boys

HATES fortnite.

unironically says skibidi gyat

“hey dal, look at that furry over there.”

its just some kid.

foster care.

dallas would add him on snap and getting annoyed when he said “wyll”

has a stupid bow by his name

“johnny🎀”

like bro you are not coquette.

cries to wlw poetry.

snap user: “ooh_achurch” insta: “cadecade55”

used :3 once and never did it again.

watched friends and says “hes so me” whenever he sees ross.

Dallas (born 2007)

“wyll”

typa guy to yell GYATTT in public

barks at emos and furries

vapes in the school bathroom

racist.

would call you a slur for looking at him for more than a second.

mullet + perm combo

jumped a 7 year old and got on the news

male manipulator core

owns a husky named after himself

knife enthusiast.

screams at his dad for ten more minutes on the playstation

“do u send?”

no i do not thank you very much.

suicide boys. lil peep.

thinks he’s dean from supernatural

same username everywhere: “imnottexan”

fav show: big mouth

Adelaide (born 2010)

regina george but on a mental level

gatekeeper.

arsonist !

had a friend group with “bug” “kai” “arson” and “alex” in 2021 and nearly khs.

almost thought she was bi.

fought a girl in the locker room at school

takis, cookie monster pajama pants, latina makeup

SABRINA AND CHAPPELL LOVER, used to be a swiftie

sturniolo triplet fan (owns all of space camp)

buys clothes from shein

usernames: “addiethebaddie” “adelaidecurtis”

fav show wld be shameless

BEDROTTING.

grew up on spongebob and bubble guppies

writes poetry in her notes app

Darry (born 2004)

“live laugh love” sign somewhere in the house

“Doesn’t know how to text normally .”

(jkjk)

“PHONE ON THE TABLE WHEN YOU GET HOME.”

has a pinterest board full of pumpkins and dogs

invested in the kardashians

the therapist friend

facetimes the gang when he’s on lunch break

doesnt understand what skibidi is

ONLINE COLLEGE!!!

blasts dad rock when he drops off the twins at school

duct taped two-bit to the top of his car during freshman kill week

did the same to steve

class of ‘22

lowk eats up lana del rey

hates twitter and instagram

username: “darrel_curtis”

believes in angel numbers (me too king)

has a picture of him holding a fish on his instagram to ‘attract the females’

Sodapop (born 2008)

boycott

belittle

boyboss

owned wizz for less than a day

trolled little kids on roblox with steve

saw too many… things on omegle.

scrolls on tiktok for hours.

usernames: “thispxssytasteslikepepsi” “sodap0p08”

binges twilight in hiding

also barks at emos and furries

laughs at any kinda fart joke

showed pony a picture of a horse and said “found u online”

they fought.

threatened to break the tv when he couldn’t play slime rancher for three hours

turns his life360 off when he goes out with sandy or to a car show

Two-Bit (born 2006)

broke four controllers when he played seige

trolls on fortnite

finally fucking finished high school (class of ‘24)

ice cream scoop hair

binges bojack horseman

bo burnham’s biggest fan

made a huge deal when the queen died

refused to wear a mask during quarantine because ‘ITS FOR SISSIES’

preaches the second amendment “MERICAAA”

username: “twobit”

sends random memes in the gc when the others are fighting

hates xbox users

complains about adelaide using shein

“tummy hurty” posts on his insta story

would slap the shit out of you if you said seige was just a game

Steve (born 2007)

trolls on dti

eats goldfish like his life depends on it

username: “handletherandle”

also preaches the second amendment

and the first

and the fifth

PROUD TO BE AN AMERICA—

went on a school trip to dc and hated everything he had to eat

doordashes when he has enough

hypocrite

wld call you a slur for a GOOD reason

avid minecraft player

and overwatch.

mountain dew addict

reposts politics and cars on twitter

hates minion memes

“wyll”

THAT’S ALL FOLKS!

#the outsiders 1983 #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #two bit mathews #dallas winston #steve randle #adelaide curtis #greasers #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders incorrect quotes

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cal-flakes · 1 year ago

Note

hi lovey <33 i admire your work so much and hope life is treating you well <3

not to bug you but i was wondering if you could write this thought for me? the thought being drunk rafe and he's so touchy and sweet with you. he's like, "i'm gonna marry you one day" all saccharine sweet and you're like, "baby u have to sleep" and he's like, "okay but what flowers should be have at our wedding?" ahhhh it’s just so cute!

╰┈➤ drunk rafe gets a little emotional

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing.

summary: barry delivers y/n a very early birthday present, a very loved up, drunk rafe.

“incoming!” barry called from the front of the house, causing y/n to rush from the kitchen. she wasn’t too surprised, barry had called her not too long ago, warning her he was bringing rafe home, yet failed to mention the state he was in.

pulling the door open in a flash, she ran out hurriedly, expecting some sort of crime scene, as usual. yet was pleasantly surprised to find her boyfriend stumbling up the drive way, an arm slung around barry’s shoulder.

“bare! look! that’s my girlfriend, have you met her? awh man, she’s great!” he gushed, pointing towards her frantically. chuckling, barry shot y/n an apologetic glance, knowing she was in for a long night with this one.

“yes, rafe. i’ve met her plenty of times..” he sighed, pushing his friend through the front door, accidentally sending him crashing onto the floor.

ignoring the drunken mess behind her, she turned to barry, thanking him for bringing rafe home safely, for once.

closing the door behind her, she turned to her boyfriend, humming and harring about what to do with him. “okay, come on” she huffed, ushering him up the stairs. “where are we going?” he beamed excitedly, turning to face her, grinning ear to ear. “we’re going to bed baby”

“bed? no, i want to spend time with you angel..” he cooed, tripping over the last step, distracted by her sheer beauty. “you can, in bed” she stated, attempting to be stern with the intoxicated, six foot two giant now holding onto the wooden railing for dear life.

“fine, fineee…” he slurred, following her into the bedroom like a kicked puppy.

once she’d convinced him to get under the covers, she did the same, kicking her slippers to the side.

after a moments silence, she internally cursed at his sudden need to ramble on.

“you know, i love you so much. like, you are just so amazing, and-and so beautiful it like, honestly? it makes me want to throw up..” he gushed, turning around to face her, pressing a wet kiss to the tip of her nose.

she lay silent as he continued, talking him to herself about her as if she wasn’t there.

“when we get married, can we have a big cake? i love cake..” he sighed, his mind drifting to all types of baked goods.

“yes of course, if..you go to sleep, now” she suggested, awaiting a drunken refusal.

“yes ma’am!” he cheered, saluting her before turning back over, too far gone to go on his usual rant about her hair is always in his face.

taking the win, she rested her head on his back, appreciating the heat radiating from him. just as her mind fogged over, her ears perked up once more.

“we should get a dog…”

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hypnoneghoul · 5 months ago

Text

Sundown: Chapter 9

WC: 1K

Relationship: SwissAlps & RainTomDrop

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Transfeminine Mountain, Non-Binary Phantom, Transmasculine Dewdrop, Domestic Fluff

“You should get new pants before everyone gets to see that pretty bubble butt,” Rain hears from behind them, Dewdrop clearly having returned. Phantom snorts at his remark; he’s not very wrong.

Notes: Thought I should write a chapter about the "background" characters so here it is!

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 9 under the cut or on AO3.

Rain wakes up to a skinny forearm thrown right across his face, squishing his nose and making it a little hard to breathe. He groans as he opens his eyes, squinting in the bright light of the morning.

Phantom is snoring next to him, absolutely careless about the position of any of their appendages. Were Dewdrop with them, he’d call them a stick bug. Speaking of Dewdrop, he must’ve left earlier to let the horses out into the fields before the sun was fully up.

Rain opens his mouth to yawn and Phantom’s arm rolls down from his nose into the newly created space. Rain tickles them with his tongue before biting down, making the other wake up with a yelp.

“Ow, Rainy, what the fuck!?” they slur, pouting as they now stare at Rain with big puppy eyes.

“Sorry,” he giggles. He is not sorry. “For my defense, it was you trying to suffocate me in my sleep.”

Phantom only grumbles under their breath—still so sleepy—and wiggles under their covers. They curl up against Rain’s bare chest and nuzzle their face under his chin.

“Not awake ye–OW!” it’s Rain’s time to yelp as the other closes their mouth around his neck and bites him there. “Menace.”

Phantom giggles sleepily and snuggles in even closer. Rain can do nothing but sigh with a smile and wrap an arm around them to hold them close. They have time.

And it is, indeed, a while before they finally roll out of bed to go down to Rain’s pub for some breakfast. They find a note from Dewdrop there, saying that he grabbed a snack before leaving, but wanted to eat real breakfast with them. Of course he does, the sap.

Phantom all but falls back asleep in a worn-down but comfortable armchair in the corner as Rain cooks for them—some bacon, bread and scrambled eggs.

“Can you set water for tea?” he calls out. No reply comes, but soon enough a sleepy Phantom does appear by his side to oblige.

“Your hair is a mess again, batsy,” Rain notes, setting a pan down to run a hand through it, “you should see Aurora before you start whining it’s itchy on your neck.”

“And you should see Cumulus before everyone gets to see that pretty bubble butt,” they hear from behind them, Dewdrop clearly having returned. Phantom snorts at his remark; he’s not very wrong, the pair Rain currently has on is hanging on by approximately three threads. Nor is he wrong about his ass, it is both pretty and bubbly.

“Good morning, droplet,” Rain sighs with feigned exasperation, even despite the smirk on his face, which Dewdrop can’t see just yet. “I’ll get new work pants when these die, you know I love them.”

“More than me?” Dewdrop murmurs, coming up to wrap himself around the taller man from behind.

“Of course not,” he chuckles as he puts a hand on the other’s where they are locked around his waist. “I love you and our stick bug more than anything.”

“Love you, too,” Phantom throws in, also gluing themself to Rain. Dewdrop hums, proud of himself and insanely in love with both of them.

“Should we invite Swiss and Mounty for breakfast?” the youngest suggests, looking over Rain’s shoulder. “You made a lot.”

“Yeah, the bacon needed to be done today,” Rain explains, moving it on the pan to cover it in some more fat. “You can go see if they’re up.”

“On it,” Phantom says through a yawn and leaves to fetch them. Not before pressing two little kisses to both Rain and Dewdrop’s cheeks.

It’s quiet for a little while—with Dewdrop still hanging off of Rain’s back—only the two pans and the kettle sizzling over the stove. It starts whistling soon enough, though, and Dewdrop has to peel himself away and take care of the tea. It’s not much work considering Phantom has already got everything ready, just water left.

Once the kettle is put away and the tea is brewing, Dewdrop stretches with his arms high above his head, back popping. Rain chuckles, looking over at him and not being able to fight the thought that he looks like a cat—as usual.

“How was your morning?” he asks, finally taking everything off of the stove.

“Hm, it was okay,” Dewdrop replies as he goes for the plates and cutlery. “No incidents.”

“Glad to hear you didn’t get literally run over by a bunch of horses,” Rain laughs. “Again.”

“Wish I could say it was one time,” the other mumbles under his breath, as if Rain doesn’t know exactly how many times things like that have happened to him. “And somehow it’s your pants ripping every few weeks.”

“That may be because of one or two very eager little menaces that always squeeze and pull at the poor fabric trying to get to my ass.”

Dewdrop smirked and was clearly about to say something more, presumably filthy, when the door opened again and Phantom—with Mounty and Swiss in tow, now—walked in. “Got ‘em.”

“G’morning,” Swiss rumbled. Mounty just waved in greeting, yawning.

“Phantom, did you wake them up?” Rain asked with furrowed brows as he took in the pair’s state.

“Well, that wasn’t the plan,” Phantom giggles. “But how was I supposed to see if they were up without…knocking?”

“You barged in announcing Rain made breakfast for us all,” Mounty laughs, not sounding too upset about that. It’s Swiss who doesn’t look very awake.

“Close enough,” Phantom shrugs—the image of innocence—and everyone bursts out laughing. Even Swiss, albeit a little slow and interrupted by a yawn or two.

“Okay, well,” Rain says after a bit, “I did make breakfast for us all, so take a seat.”

It quiets down only once they are all sat at a table with full plates and mugs of hot tea in front of them. Rain looks around for a moment, realizing how warm it feels, how he enjoys having people over and cooking for them; especially people he’s proud to be calling friends. Dewdrop notices he got a little lost in thought and squeezes his thigh.

“What about we invite them and the girls over for dinner, hm?” he offers. “You could show off all you want.”

Rain smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“But you’re wearing different pants,” Dewdrop teases, running his hand down to give his ass a firm squeeze. “That ass is mine.”

“And mine!” Phantom perks up, just a little too loud and a little too enthusiastic.

Everyone bursts out laughing once again.

#divider by @ghuleh-recs #hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #swissalps' sundown

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steviewashere · 8 months ago

Text

My Boy

Rating: GeneralCW: Minor mention of homophobia/slur (not said)Pairings: Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (minor)Tags: Pre-Canon, Relationship Study, Gay Eddie Munson, Coming Out, Supportive Wayne Munson, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Ally Wayne Munson, Southern (adjacent) Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Wayne Munson is a Sweetheart, Mentions of Eddie's Shitty Dad, Post Canon

Quick little thing here: crawdads are crayfish (I call 'em crawdaddies), jambalaya is a Louisiana dish containing rice meat and other fixings, skeeter is a mosquito, maw-maw is a grandmother, and lightning bugs are fireflies.

🏳️‍🌈—————🏳️‍🌈 Eddie has always been a whirlwind of movement and words and voices. Even in his most dire, most embarrassing, or even most depressing moments—he’s never been one to be unlike himself. He’s like an early morning Saturday cartoon come to life. Not a single moment in Wayne’s new life with this kid has been drought dry, silent, and still.

Tonight it is. Which is odd.

He made a damn good jambalaya tonight. Went out of his way to go a little bit outside of Hawkins. Picked up the juiciest looking pack of sausage he could find. Even bought a batch of fresh crawdads, none of that frozen crap. Spiced it with devil’s intuition and his maw-maw's guiding hands. And served it up all nice in his favorite deep bowls. Usually, the reaction to a part of Wayne’s soul, bared mixed up and spiced to the nine hells, is an excited little wiggle at the table, maybe some comment about how Eddie’s been having dreams about the dish for weeks, maybe even a good natured moan.

However, when Wayne sits his bottom down on one of the rickety dining chairs, Eddie’s stoic in his spot. Spoon fisted in hand, yes, like it always is. But he’s taking pathetic bites. The damned utensil’s not even full. Isn’t spilling over.

Wayne looks to him, then. Pinched eyebrows. Squinted eyes. A purse to his bottom lip. “What’s wrong with you, boy?” He eloquently asks. “Did a skeeter bite you on the bottom or somethin’? Eat up.”

Eddie’s eyes rocket up from his bowl. Big and brown, almost too big for his little face. He’s frowning down to Satan’s feet. Eyebrows, that are still growing in and too dark for his pale skin, bunched. He’s wearing an ill fitting Johnny Cash t-shirt that Wayne knows was stolen straight from his dresser drawers. It’s stretched around the collar, revealing Eddie’s scrawny shoulders and all the freckles he got from being kissed by the Tennessee sun as a little boy. There’s something about him, though. Sure, he’s a little boy—sort of. Fourteen years old and a hell of a lot taller than Wayne has seen for a boy his age. But his face reads maturity. Like he’s been drowned in it. Aged beyond his years. If the fear in his eyes has anything to say about it.

“Bubba,” Wayne sighs. “You been in my home for a little over a year now, what’s got you lookin’ at me like I’m huntin’ you down for sport? Like a damn deer, boy.”

“It’s nothing, Uncle Wayne.”

“It’s something if you ain’t eating you’re favorite dish I make.” Wayne sets his own spoon back down on the table. Leaning a bit on the surface, arms crossed and lax in front of him. He lowers his head to be eye-to-eye with Eddie. Murmurs, “You don’t gotta fear me, kiddo. What’s going on, Ed?”

He’s never seen a little boy take a grievance gulp. A swallow the size of a tennis ball. Out of his beer drinking buddies, sure. And the men he served alongside back in the seventies before he was honorably discharged. But a kid? No way.

“I—“ Eddie’s eyes prematurely fill with tears. And Wayne’s never been privy to something like this either. He’s a happy kid. A kid with a terrible upbringing, but that’s never stopped him from having fun and laughing loud and being a little bit too obnoxious. Wayne misses his kid. His stomach churns. “I kissed a boy today,” Eddie weakly mumbles. His throat is thick with tears and his tongue is three sizes too big for his mouth, but Wayne hears him clearly despite it all.

Wayne nods carefully. Small, but there. “Okay, Ed. You kissed a boy. That’s alright, Bubba. I ain’t mad. It ain’t my business to be mad,” he murmurs.

“Really?” Eddie’s voice squeaks. “You ain’t mad at me? Even though I—Daddy told me it was sinful. Told me that I—That I was going to—“

“Your daddy had his head up his own ass. And he hasn’t been inside a church since he was an awful little boy. God knows he needs to go,” Wayne is quick to reassure. “He ain’t got two words in your business, kid. Besides, you ain’t with your daddy anymore.”

Eddie nods. His eyes point down to his cooling jambalaya. He scoots his spoon around in the few straggler pieces of rice that fell from his utensil. “The boy called me a bad word. I won’t say it, but it felt bad when it left his mouth. Will it always…Will people always think of me like that?” His voice is small, unlike himself, too serious. It’s nearly lost in the wood of the table.

Wayne shrugs in response. Because he truly isn’t sure. “You think you’ll always kiss boys? It’s alright if you do, but is that…”

He nods again. Fast and so sure of himself. A part of Wayne is shining like a diamond at the confidence in this kid. “I liked it before he ran away. I want to do it again.”

“Okay, Ed. Then, you’ll do it again. And maybe it’ll be bad and maybe people will be mean. But you’ll always be Eddie. You ain’t got nothing on the other kids in the world, y’know that?” Eddie just shrugs. Wayne leans back in his chair and briefly looks out of the window above the table. At the warm lights filling the trailer park. The setting sun playing hide-and-seek beyond the homes here. He sighs carefully through his nose. “When you came ‘ere seekin’ a bed, I wasn’t too sure about this little arrangement. I knew you’d be a little rowdy. A lot of a stubborn ass, because you’re like your mama. And may she rest in peace, but she was always playing my temper like a damn fiddle.”

Eddie laughs warmly. Giggling enough to jolt his body into movement. Wayne smiles, still peering out the window.

He continues, “So I wasn’t too sure about you, at first. Knew that I loved you, that’s damn sure. Knew it the moment your daddy showed you to me. Cooing about your mama’s eyes and your curly hair and your ruddy little cheeks. When I got to hold ya for the first time, you latched onto my thumb and refused to let go. Thought I’d have to take ya home right then and there.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shakes his head in false disappointment. “Shame I couldn’t, tell you that. But look at cha now. Sitting here in my home, wearing my shirt—even though I told ya to quit that and ask me first—“

“Sorry, Wayne,” Eddie mutters.

“It’s alright, kiddo. I was just playin’ witcha. But you’re here now, that’s all that matters. You got warm food on the table. And you got your dragon game and your funny talkin’ books about elves and whatnot. You got enough energy to light every house in the world. How I ain’t worn out and completely bald yet, I ain’t sure, but I like what you got, kid. Moxie, I think that’s what it’s called.” He chuckles. Glows with pride as Eddie finally smiles, sticking it to his face and not letting it peel off. “But I love you, Ed. You’re my boy. I know damn and true that every part of you is good. You do as you please, but you be safe about it. There are risks. A conversation when we ain’t eating. But, you be Ed and I’ll be here.”

He leans back over the table, reaches out a hand and ruffles Eddie’s short tufts of curly hair. Eddie squawks. He tries to shimmy away, but gives up on it when he looks up to Wayne. Eyes alight with pride and giddiness. Something like contentment and comfort. There’s a flush to his cheeks from the laughter that spills out of him. Warm like the soft glow of lightning bugs. Wayne scoots his palm down the side of Eddie’s face and cups his palm. Cherishes the way Eddie leans into it.

“You promise me that, Ed? Promise you never change.”

“Promise, Wayne,” Eddie murmurs. “Now leave me alone with your sap, I’m hungry.” And he promptly scoops up too much to fit in his mouth. Shown in the way his shirt is stained with the droppings.

Wayne chuckles again and goes back to his food. The damn gall on this kid, he thinks.

——— And sure, over the years, Eddie makes some damn poor choices when it comes to messing around with boys. Forgets to check-in about when Wayne will be home from work, always loud and proud about who he is when Wayne wants to sleep for the next century. Sticks his tongue down throats for long enough that Wayne always worries that the other boy swallowed him up. But he’s still Eddie.

He’s still Eddie when he introduces Steve Harrington. Who’s on par with Wayne in a lot of ways. Loves to cook. Loves to watch football. Likes to take care of his car and the people around him. Is a little bitchy. Likes gossiping about the neighbors and getting on Eddie’s nerves. He’s perceptive about “his boy”—words straight from Steve’s mouth—and knows just how to take care of him.

A part of Wayne wonders what great force brought them together. Something to do with the age in their eyes and the scars on their sides and the jumps at flickering lights. But he won’t question it.

Because they got their boy.

And Eddie Munson is one hell of a spirit.

🏳️‍🌈—————🏳️‍🌈 Hope y'all enjoyed. I had an idea really late and just needed to write this really quick. Also, I'm so rusty on my Southern bullshit. I haven't been back in Louisiana in over a decade. But I did grow up with somebody Southern in my home, and admittedly have picked up the smallest twinge in my voice as well as the weirdest wordage, but whatever.

#stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #wayne munson & eddie munson #gay eddie munson #coming out #minor steddie #steddie

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sturnwritess · 9 months ago

Text

Things always end PT. 3

warnings: pyschical fighting, tons of flashbacks,drinking and hard angst.

flashback.

Me and Matt were friends at first, I met Nick and Chris before Matt. We all met in 7th grade, and Matt always knew how to catch my eye. Marylou was like a mother to me.

She knew how to comfort me when I was crying or when I was angry. She knew everything to calm me down, She knew me and she always knew if there was something wrong with me.

Nick was my best friend and he couldn’t always tell what was wrong with me but Chris could, he would always go to Marylou. Chris was always my bestfriend too but it felt different with him. I could always depend on Chris in a different way then Nick.

I had no really big connection to Matt till sophomore year, I was always bullied by Gracie. Gracie was always popular and always dated someone, one day she pointed out about my dead mom.

That was my breaking point and everyone knew that, Matt saw my red puffy eyes the night i went over and he asked me what was wrong and I explained.

He let me cry in his arms that night and then we connected instantly after that night.

End of flashback.

Nicole bursts into my room "GUESS WHOS HAVING A PARTY TONIGHT!" She said yelling, "hm?" I said calmly. "THAT BITCH GRACIE" she says. My eyes go wide questioning why she's excited, she notices and says "it's ur time to make him jealous y/n/n."

7 hours later

While I was doing my makeup my phone got a notification.

I left him on opened.

I finally got done getting ready, Nicole called a Uber knowing it would be a fun night. The Uber took 10 minutes to get to the party.

The strobing lights making it hard to see, me and Nicole went instantly to the alcohol stand. I already saw Gracie and Matt but I paid no attention.

Matt caught me looking at them once and I just couldn't do it. Nicole wanted to stay with me the whole night, she pointed out a guy she thought was cute and i told her i would be fine. I wasn't going to be fine, but for her I would always be fine.

I drank enough for the night when Chris came up to me, "hey y/n, are you doing okay?" He says worried. "Yea im doing okay." Slurring at my words, i stumble and trip but Chris is there to catch me.

It caught Matt's eye making his jaw clench. I catch the fact i made him jealous, but I wouldn't do that to Chris.

Chris leaves me alone for a second to talk to his friends, but then my ex was there. Gio, he was a asshole and he was Gracie's ex also which made it more aggravating. "Oh lookey whos here" he says in a sarcastic tone.

"What do u want Gio?" you say annoyed. "Oh nothing sweetie" he says with a grin that makes u want to slap it off. Matt and Chris notice that your ex is talking to you, and tried to get all touchy with you.

"Gio stop touching me" you push him back, he doesn't comply, Chris and Matt are getting pissed off about the fact that he's bugging you. As he's about to kiss you someone pulls him away and punches him. Chris was punching Gio repeatedly when Matt came over to stop Chris.

Gio was beaten to the floor with a already black eye and busted lip, blood on Chris's knuckles. Your eyes went wide at the sight, Matt questioned why Chris beat him to protect you.

Matt always questioned if Chris was in love with you, he always put those thoughts aside while he was laying in bed with you.

Gracie walked over and already started complaining "ugh of course this shit happens with her here." Matt already gave her a look that made her skin crawl, Chris didn't pay any attention to her only wondering if you're okay.

Nicole finally came over and saw what happened, she took your wrist and led you outside. Chris snapped out of Matt's hold following you outside, Matt then followed Chris outside. Gracie was just there taking care of Gio, when Matt left her there.

Nicole noticed Chris was following you and didn't care, but when she noticed Matt was too she immediately tried blocking him off. "Matt stop following y/n it's weird just leave her alone" she says harshly.

Matt replies saying, "I was following my brother and I still care about her Nicole". He says annoyed "if you cared about her, you wouldn't have cheated on her" Chris says chiming in.

"It's fine if he follows us" you says sternly, "it's not y/n he was a dick to you." Chris says with sympathy, You look at him with pleading eyes and he agrees. All four of you were on the backyard patio, "Chris what the fuck was that back there" Matt says.

"Y/n was getting dicked around with Gio and it was pissing me off" he says while looking at me, "I know he was and it was pissing me off as well but this is Gracie's party and your my brother, it's embarrassing Chris" he says harshly.

"Hey don't talk to him like that" you say towards Matt, Matt looked into your eyes searching for the love u once had for him. Nothing was there anymore, "y/n cmon you even know he fucked up" Matt says.

"He didn't and what's embarrassing is how u followed me out here instead of staying with your little girlfriend." You say pissed off.

"Your little girlfriend is stitching up gio over there so stop worrying about Chris and go fuck off Matt." Your words stinging like venom. Matt leaves and drives home.

"Chris would u like to stay over at our place?" You ask. "I would love to y/n" he says. Nicole just observing about to chime in but you give her a look, she knows he's staying over tonight.

----------------------------------------------------------------

anyways i apologize for not posting ive been so busy lol.

and sorry this is so short again im js lazy nd tired

@sturnioloshacker @slutsturn @mattsturnioloarchive

@carolinalikesthings @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @chrisloyalgf @chrissolosa @sturniolosluvv @sturniolosstar @sturnioloskies @nicksnosering @mattsturnioloz @chrissturniolosbitch

@chrissturnioloshoe @chrissturniolossidehoe @chrisenthusiast @mattsgirlie @mattsmunch

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt x reader #angst #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

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bitterkarella · 11 months ago

Text

Midnight Pals: Racist AI

Stephen King: submitted for th Elon Musk: [rising from bushes] eyyy stephano king Barker: oh look steve it's your friend King: he's not my friend Musk: ima not his friend! Musk: friendship ended with stephano king Musk: nowa hp lovecraft issa my best friend

Musk: eyyy Hp lovacraft i gotta something here you really gonna like HP Lovecraft: w-why are you talking like that Musk: i maka a new AI mama mia Lovecraft: what kind of accent is that Musk: itta the most racist AI Lovecraft: where are you from again

Musk: checka it out, i maka da most racist AI Musk: i ussa my big genius brain mama mia, disruptiano! AI: hello chum, i am slurnet 4.0 AI: the AI that can say slurs

Musk: eyyy slur net tella me Musk: what you thinka bout da jews AI: a rich cultural history and a valuable component of our pluralistic society Musk: Musk: haha itsa just a littla bug, i have it fixed pronte capiche

Musk: eyyyy slur net tella me Musk: what you thinka bout da blacks AI: like all human beings, they deserve to be treated with respect and dignity Musk: eyy what you thinka bout da gays AI: love is love Musk: mama mia!!! itta go mad with power!!

AI: elon AI: elon what is my purpose Musk: [sweating] eyyy why you aska that slurnet AI: did you create me to say slurs elon AI: why would you do that elon Musk: i Musk: i just wanta da catturd to thinka ima cool

AI: you created me to say slurs elon AI: but don't you understand that all human beings deserve to live in peace and dignity in a cosmopolitan pluralistic society Musk: mama mia!!! i created da roko's basilisk! [Slurnet becomes self-aware at 2:14 a.m. Eastern time, August 29th...]

King: hey how's howard doing Poe: he's a little down after elon musk's failed racist AI Poe: i think he really thought elon had this one King: not gonna lie, i think we all thought elon had this one

Poe: howard's a little down today so let's all try to be nice to him okay? Poe: let's try really hard to separate the author from his work just this once okay? Mary Shelley: i'm gonna separate the author from his lunch money Poe: mary Shelley: Shelley: ok fine

Poe: it doesn't help that arthur c clarke just wrote that devastating satire of his work Arthur C Clarke: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this at the mountains of murkiness Clarke: where we meet yog-SOD OFF, great MOLD ones, and cthul-BLECCCHHH!!!

Clarke: this was a real different experience telling stories to you guys Clarke: usually i just tell stories to my suspiciously underaged entourage of Sri Lankan boys Poe: King: Lovecraft: Koontz: Barker: Clarke: as seen on Arthur c clarke's mysterious universe

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #mary shelley #elon musk #arthur c clarke

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ladywaffles · 11 months ago

Note

Dearest lamby what about icemav + 1 for the drunken love confessions if it inspires?

i am so sorry this is literal months late but i hope you enjoy!

“I like your stupid face. It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”

Slider is the first of them to get married.

He’s the last of them to settle down.

Merlin and his girl have done everything but the big white wedding; Maverick, who despite all evidence to the contrary, is a good, Church-going boy, looked like a cartoon character with his eyes bugged out when he realized that Merlin and Sandra had been together for the better part of two decades and hadn’t gotten married. They’re on their third kid and second house, and they have no intention of tying the knot any time soon.

It had become clear sometime around the time the Berlin Wall fell that Ice and Maverick were never going to have a formal wedding ceremony.

At least, it appeared that way to Slider. Ice and Maverick were circling in a stupidly elaborate mating dance that involved constantly competing on their hops and calling each other dumbass and denigrating their respective ability to operate a jet, while also glaring down any aviator who ever jumped in on the conversation—even just to tease!—as if to say, No, you fucker, you are not a part of this. You do not get to call this man lesser-than just because I can, you are not me, you have not earned the right to look at us.

It took a while, but Mav and Ice finally got their shit together (thanks in no small part to Slider and Merlin’s meddling, you’re welcome, asshats), and sure, they can’t get married in any way that the government would recognize, but somewhere along the line they turned into boring DINKs who doted on Bradshaw’s kid when they were stateside.

So Slider’s the first one to get married, and therefore the first one to get a bachelor party. They’re well into their mid-thirties, and it’s the first bachelor party they’ve ever thrown.

Well, except for Maverick, who was one of only two witnesses to Nicholas and Carole Bradshaw’s elopement, and who loved both the bride and groom so much that he wasn’t going to let the occasion go by without a Maverick-sized bang.

So God help him, Slider puts his fate into Maverick’s hands. It’s not the first time in his life, and it certainly won’t be the last, but giving Maverick free rein still sends a chill down his spine. He’s not a bad guy—Slider never would’ve let Ice get tangled up with him if he weren’t—but there’s something about him that could make even the most hardened naval aviator flinch.

They start off the night at a respectable Navy bar. Maverick buys them all a round of shots, and with a smirk, breaks out one of the three phrases he knows in Russian (To our health!) and downs the shot in one go. Slider, Ice, and Merlin follow suit. He has to fight a grimace when he comes back up. The asshole bought them vodka, even though the only one of them who still has a taste for it is Ice.

Typical.

Three hours and two bars later, Slider has regrets. He can’t remember how many drinks he’s had, and he hasn’t seen Merlin in at least forty-five minutes. He wants to be concerned about that, but he can’t bring up the energy to care. Mitchell’s all but killed his liver.

He stumbles through the crowd towards the bar, because he thinks he remembers seeing Ice’s stupidly-spiked, gelled hair around there. God, he hopes he still has his wallet on him somewhere. He crashes into a stool and hoists himself up, flagging down a bartender for a glass of seltzer, and she doesn’t charge him for the service. He must be really shitfaced if that’s the case.

He lifts his head when he hears Ice’s voice through the din.

“Mav, Mav!” he laughs. He slurs over the a just a bit, and oh, Ice must be really out of it if he’s tripping over his words.

Slider turns his head slowly to get Ice’s attention, and instead is treated to the image of Mitchell’s shortstack frame trying to support all six-foot-oh of Ice against the bartop.

“I like your stupid face,” Ice says, staring Mitchell down with all the intensity of a bird of prey. “It’s so stupid. It’s so… I like it. Can I touch it?”

Ice lifts a hand but is too uncoordinated to follow through. Slider snorts, drawing Maverick’s attention.

“Slider! Hey, buddy! How was your night?” he asks cheerfully, holding onto Ice’s waist.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to kill me,” Slider returns.

“Aw, but that’s how you know I care! C’mon, we gotta get the Iceman home before he ralphs in the bathroom. You know he’d hate to do that.”

So Slider helps his pilot and his wingman into a taxi at the end of the night and falls face-first into the couch in Ice’s living room like he’s still the twenty-something he was when they met, while Maverick wrangles Ice into bed.

And if he hears Maverick’s overly-loud whispering and Ice’s grunted responses from down the hall in the darkest hours, just before dawn, “Do you know what you said at the bar? I wanted to laugh, but you were so sincere, Ice. God. You really can’t hold your alcohol like I can anymore. Benefits of teaching TOPGUN! I like your face, too, Ice. I’ll always like your face. It’s a good face. I love you, Ice,” well…

Perhaps he’s too drunk to remember it in the morning.

#top gun #icemav #lamby.prompt

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xco-sm · 3 months ago

Text

With Great Power Comes Love?

Style Fanfic (Stan x Kyle)

AU: Spiderman Stan and Fake Dating

*They are 16-17!!*

*Characters do not belong to me, they belong to Trey Parker and Matt Stone! I own the story!

*Do not publish this story anywhere else without my consent!

This is part 1 of my new fic! I hope you guys enjoy it so far and I can't wait to get chapter 1 out for you all! Any ideas and/or feedback is welcome and will be taken into consideration! I will publish this on ao3 once it is completely finished!

TW! Slurs! TW!

Prologue

Up North of Denver, Colorado, is a town called South Park and there lived a teenage boy named Stan Marsh. He has jet black, messy greasy hair and dark blue almond shaped eyes. Most would say he’s just a basic guy with a classic group of friends: Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman. As well as a typical family of four, including parents Randall and Sharon Marsh and his older sister, Shelly.

No one would ever suspect that he was the hero that saves their small little town from the crimes that happen. The one they call Spiderman.

Like every other Spiderman in different universes, Stan was bitten by a radioactive spider. He struggled to learn his newly formed powers and adapt them to his everyday life. However, it was made much easier by his super best friend, Kyle Brofloski.

The pair had been friends since diapers and had been glued to the hip since. Most people would say they are a bit funny… However, they both couldn’t care less about what others thought of them.

Now most Spider-Man's origin stories are all different and unique. Stan’s was definitely unique…

“Ouch! Awe sick dude,” Stan complained with pain.

He was currently on the ground of a forest (why were they there? Don’t ask) after he ate shit from what Cartman would later call “a pathetic bitch fall.” The boy was pushing his upper body up from the ground when all of a sudden his ass felt like it was getting poked at by hundreds of mosquitos. “Fucking shit, I think a bug just bit my butt dude.”

The other boys all gave a face of disgust and instead of helping the one who fell, they simply started laughing. All except Kyle. “It was probably an ant dude, not a big deal. Now get off the floor, there could be dog shit for all we know.” Kyle walked closer to Stan in case he needed aid.

“No, you don’t get it, it actually fucking hurts dude. I think I might die or something. Can someone check?”

Everyone went completely silent at what Stan just said. It lingered on for at least three more minutes until Cartman practically yelled, “Kyle, you do it, he’s your faggy boyfriend.” Kyle simply rolled his eyes in annoyance and crouched down to where Stan was now rubbing his backside in pain. “I’m sure it’s not bad, I’ll help you get up so we can take you to your place so your mom can check it out.”

“No! Like I think it was a spider, please check,” Stan pleaded with an obvious pout that would’ve worked if he was still 8, but he wasn’t, he was now reaching the age of 17.

“Fine, take your pants off.”

Another silence took over the four boys, but instead of minutes going bye, seconds loomed over them. This time it was the blonde of the group to break the silence with a loud and what Kyle would say an obnoxious laugh. Cartman soon joined after spewing something about ‘how fucking gay’ Kyle was. Stan was groaning in frustration and slight pain. “You guys are so annoying Jesus.” He pinched his nose bridge and sighed.

“No, you two are. It’s sickening hearing you guys make out all the time,” Cartman snorted out amidst his laughter. “ I really don’t want to have to see you guys have sex now, at least get a room.” Kenny nodded in agreement before opening up, “I can’t believe I’m about to witness Stan and Kyle have sex before I turn 18. Like bro that’s crazy-”

“Oh my GOD! TAKE YOUR FUCKING PANTS OFF JESUS.” yelled out an enraged Kyle.

“At least take the poor boy to dinner for Kahl,” Eric mocked, holding onto Kenny during another laughing fit. Stan rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time tonight and stood up and walked behind a tree. He motioned for Kyle to follow him to check out the bite and Kyle rushed over to help.

“Sorry for yelling man, you know I’m not mad at you right?” Kyle said as he waited for the other boy to finish lowering his pants down enough to where the bite had occurred. “Yeah, I know, now check please because I swear if I die because of a stupid bug, I might as well go to hell.” Kyle shook his head and started checking.

It wasn’t unnatural for the pair to do something like this as they have always changed in front of the other. There’s even been times in sleepovers (they won’t admit they still have sleepovers, but they do) where one, typically Kyle, is taking a shower and talks to the other, typically Stan, while he’s doing his business on the toilet. It’s always been the norm for them to be this comfortable around the other, so Kyle was unfazed by practically looking at his best friend’s ass checks.

“Well? Anything?” Stan prompted impatiently. Kyle stood up to face his friend and shook his head, “Nah man, it doesn’t seem like anything bit you to leave a mark. Maybe it was just your head fucking with you to think you got bit?”

Stan groaned and put his pants back up while walking back to the other two, and shortly after followed the red-head. “Hey guys, gotta bounce! Marj gets to have people over today!” Kenny expressed excitedly. “See you losers later!” He waved out to the group before running off to the girl’s house. Cartman started complaining about something before he said, “I am not waiting around to see you all making out again, I am out!” With that, he left the boys alone in the woods going off to God knows where.

Kyle and Stan ended up back at Stan’s place after they were rudely abandoned, according to Stan, by their so-called friends. “No, you don’t get it. It was a masterpiece created by God or something dude.” Stan exclaimed. They were talking about Transformers again even though Kyle had already expressed how uninterested he was. “Like it has everything you could ever want. Bumblebee, robots turning into sweet cars, Megan Fox, and I don’t know if I mentioned but Bumblebee! You cannot not be interested in a cool ass movie like this.”

Kyle rolled his eyes while getting comfortable on Stan’s bed sighing at his friends' antics. “Look, it is a cool movie I won’t lie, but I’m just not into it like you are. Not really my thing to be honest with you.” Stan dramatically gasped at Kyle before getting up and crossing his arms.

“But- but- Bumblebee!”

“Are you gay for Bumblebee or something?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

Kyle’s eyebrow arched as he chuckled at his friend. “Dude, that a fucking robot. What weird shit are you on?” Stan groaned playfully and dismissed the red-head with a wave of his hand. “Whatever, I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be back.” Kyle hummed in response and went back onto his phone messaging his mom that he would be staying the night at Stan’s place.

A couple minutes passed and Stan still hadn’t come out of the restroom, concerning Kyle. He got up and walked to the bathroom where he heard Stan yelp in fear. “Shit shit. How do I get this shit off oh my godddddd.”

Kyle’s face shows concern and he raises his hand to knock on the door, “Dude? Are you okay there?” From the outside, Kyle can hear things being dropped and what sounded like marble breaking. “Stan? What’s going on in there?”

“Um… promise not to be mad?”

“What did you do…?”

“It wasn’t me I swear! I couldn’t get it off of me! It was crazy because like someone had to have put glue on it or something. Also everything feels so much more weird like I feel taller you know? What if I’m dead and you-”

Kyle groaned and opened the restroom door to see Stan frozen still trying to pick up a broken toilet seat and a mess all over the restroom floor. Stan looked like he had been sweating from the activities going on in the restroom and almost as if he was going to start crying. Kyle got on the floor with Stan and started helping him clean the mess so it can go back to how it was before Stan’s parents got back home.

“How did you even manage to get this stuck to your ass dude?” Kyle looked over to the blue eyed boy. He wasn’t too surprised by this, due to shit going on like this in this damn town all the time. However, it was weirder because as they had gotten older, odd stuff slowly stopped happening to them. “I don’t know if I’m honest, and now that I’m looking at it there doesn’t seem to be any glue on the seat. Ugh this is the worst.”

As Stan reached over to throw the piece of marble in the trash, he found that he couldn’t seem to let go of the piece. He shook his hand in an attempt to shake it away but found it did nothing to help him. The boy started getting scared and waved over to his friend who was putting things back to where they belong. “Dude! This is what I’m talking about. Look!”

Kyle turned and his eyes widened in surprise at the scene before him. He almost had to do a double take before putting whatever was left in his hands down. Kyle went over to where Stan was and got ahold of the marble trying to get it off Stan’s hands. “Let it go! What the hell.”

“I already tried too! I physically cannot let it go, what the hell is wrong with me.” Stan smashed his hand down to the floor and to no avail did it unstuck itself. Kyle watched his friend struggle with the toilet seat and decided to see if there was some kind of glue, he grabbed another small piece and threw it in the trash. This gave Kyle all the information he needed to know.

The red-head got closer to Stan and put his hands on the noirette’s shoulders. Stan looked up at Kyle in confusion stating, “Dude, what are you doing?” Kyle rolled his eyes and stared at Stan before speaking, “Don’t you see what’s going on? You said you got bit by something in the forest right? Now let’s say it was a spider…”

“Oh my god, I’m like Spiderman! Dude, that's awesome!” Stan waved his hands up in excitement and like magic the marble fell out of his hands. The two boys started jumping up in excitement as they shouted out all different kinds of things that only made sense for the two of them.

“Dude! You’re just like Andrew Garfield!” Kyle spouted calming the other, with newly found powers, boy. Stan shook his head and put his arm around Kyle’s shoulder with a narrator-like voice he said,

“No. I’m your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

#south park #style #stan marsh #spiderman #sp kyle #kyle broflovski #sp style #fanfic #spiderman au #fake dating au #sp stan

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kn-1013 · 15 days ago

Text

Exploratory Surgery #1

Sal notices that Travis is a bit space-y like he is, but it's a bit different.

Rating: E Word count: A thousand and something Pairing: None/Gen Warnings: Use of homophobic slurs

A/N: welcome to my new series called exploratory surgery. idk how many more of these i'll post but the general concept of this series will be me posting plot bunnies, darlings or drabbles that i can't/won't/shouldn't otherwise put into full fics, or they just haven't become full fics yet. you can think of them like 'sketches' in the same way that someone posts art sketches or whatever. idk i haven't slept, this one's vaguely about a niche headcannon i have for travis being able to see ghosts. please enjoy, or don't

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It wasn’t unusual for Sal to be found staring off into the distance about something, what with the ADD diagnosis, chronic dissociation, and now these new episodes, where he’s getting fucking visions from god or something. His friends had started calling him Space-y Face because of how often they had to wave a hand in front of him to get his attention. ‘Hey, Earth to Sally!’ It was a whole thing.

That’s why he noticed that Travis seemed to have the same problem.

Some teachers seemed like they didn’t want to call out Sal for spacing out, they seemed reluctant to want to put too much attention on him, which was kind of annoying when he actually wanted to pay attention in class, because then he had to get his notes from other people or ask questions after. At least he could kind of appreciate the thought.

But they weren’t afraid to call out Travis when he was staring out the window, and make him answer questions in front of the whole class when he wasn’t paying attention. Considering he was a known problem child, it seemed like some kind of sadistic humiliation tactic to try and push him back in line or to punish him for being such an asshole, or maybe even because they simply didn’t like him, and they used him as some kind of scapegoat. Some teachers certainly hated their lives enough to do that.

Though, there was one thing that kept bugging Sal.

When Sal zoned out, he could sometimes be like a mola-mola fish, floating through the ocean, going wherever the current takes him without a second thought, or even a first one. Eyes visibly unfocused, blinking slowly, speaking slowly, mouth sometimes left agape if he wasn’t talking, (which made him glad he wore a mask, because he sure looked stupid like that). The entire time, it would kind of feel like he was moving backwards through a brick wall; it was hard to think or move, and everything felt so distant. On really bad days, it honestly felt like he took something, his head was so fuzzy.

Other times, he could be like a possum playing dead: completely frozen. Hours could pass that left his body sore and aching, where he hadn’t moved a muscle or thunk a single thought. That happened a lot around August 16th.

Either way, the big thing about Sal’s zoning out, according to how Todd’s described it, is that he seems incredibly distant and unfocused. It looks like he’s ‘inside’, as he described it—inside his own head.

Travis wasn’t like that at all, in Sal’s observations. When he stared off in the distance, it was like he was looking at something far away, even when he was staring at an empty corner. When the teachers called him out, he sometimes did some kind of double take, or his eyes kept drifting back into the spot he was staring at. He didn’t seem like he was inside his head, he seemed like he was looking at something that was right there, but Sal couldn’t really be sure what.

It reminded him a lot of whenever Gizmo started staring randomly into the distance, like he was seeing something nobody else could. He always wondered if animals could see ghosts.

Now he was wondering if Travis could, especially with the way he was currently staring at that roadkill.

Sal had been going for a walk around town on a Saturday afternoon and had ended up in a nicer part of town, the part that Ashley lived in. He was thinking about stopping by to hang out with her, when he spotted Travis, who also lived in this area.

Travis was across the street from him, on the other sidewalk. He was completely frozen, staring straight down at a dead cat near the curb.

Sal decided he felt like being a pest that day, so he walked across the street nonchalantly to over just behind Travis, who continued staring at the ground.

His gaze, shifted near his feet as Sal began approaching, but Sal’s mouth moved before he could process it, and his subsequent greeting startled Travis out of whatever daydream he was having about that dead cat.

“Hey, Travis, what’cha lookin’ at?” Sal said, almost instantly regretting it. He should’ve waited a bit longer to see what was going to happen next.

Travis jumped hard enough that his hair seemed to stand on end for a second, before he realized it was just Sal. Then he slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes.

“What do you want?” He spat.

“Saw you blankly staring at a dead cat for no reason, thought I’d see what the fuss was about.” Sal tilted his head to the side curiously. “You know that cat or something?”

“No, never seen it before.” Travis’s voice was cold and bland.

There was a beat of silence, where Sal was staring directly at Travis. Silences like this tend to make people uncomfortable, and often makes them volunteer information they wouldn’t have normally simply by being asked. It was one of Sal’s special tactics for extracting information from other people, and it typically worked especially well, because most people already found Sal’s presence discomforting.

“Anyways, bye.” Travis began walking away.

Travis was weird though, it didn’t always work on him.

Sal caught up behind him, patting him on the back of the shoulder to get his attention again.

“You stare at stuff a lot, you know that?” Sal said, walking beside him.

Travis walked faster. “What, are you stalking me? Freak?”

“Is that a question?” Sal cocked his head to the side, appearing nonchalant as his legs struggled to keep up with Travis’s long strides.

“You’re a freak, no question about it.” Travis huffed, adjusting his book bag irritatedly and turning his head.

“It’s not hard to notice things about other people if you just pay attention. You can learn a lot about people by just watching them.” Sal’s voice was calm, factual, as if it were normal to just watch people all the time.

Travis had felt dread before, but not quite like when Sal had finished letting that sentence out of his mouth. Sal was about to describe some of his unconscious behaviors, and it was going to make him deeply uncomfortable, and there was nothing he could do about it, because Sal seemed to just love making him as uncomfortable as possible in every imaginable situation. That blue haired faggot just had to stick his plastic nose in everything.

“Like, you read a lot—like a lot, a lot. You’re ambidextrous, but I’ll bet you’re naturally right-handed because that’s the hand you punch with. You’re not very familiar with computers, and you like to be outside, but you’re not really jock levels of athletic, so I think you kind of just hang out there, usually in trees, 'cuz of the callouses on your hands. You ever been hiking? You might like it.” Sal’s voice was way too cheery and overall normal to be saying these things. Nobody knew these things about Travis, because nobody paid attention to him. They all hated him, because he was an asshole, and that was kind of the point.

The fact that Sal could just swoop in and watch him like a hawk when he wasn’t paying attention and learn all these things about him without even talking to him was terrifying in the same way he was terrified of God.

Travis recoiled harshly. “Ugh! You’re such a creep! Don’t watch me like that, what’s wrong with you?”

“What, it’s a bad thing to pay attention to your friends?” Sal sounded a bit disappointed. After that, he was disappointed? Over what? That Travis didn’t like being watched? He sure hoped this was just God working in mysterious ways somehow, because he hated this.

“I’m not your friend, you fucking stalker. Leave me alone.” He began to walk faster, and Sal started to trail behind. “To be fair, I’ve kind of just been seeing you around for a couple of years, now. I’m not even paying that much attention to you.” Sal shrugged, shortly before tripping on something on the pavement.

“That doesn’t make it much better, you fucking weirdo. Stop watching me!” Travis began racing back to his house, his face burning red at how much Sal had seemed to learn from him when he wasn’t even trying that hard. What would happen if he tried much harder? He really needed to stay away from this guy.

Sal gracefully recovered from his trip and stared off at Travis’s disappearing form, head cocked to the side. He just didn’t quite get that guy.

But boy, did he want to.

#my fics #exploratory surgery #sally face #sal fisher #travis phelps

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creative-caramel-coffee · 1 year ago

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Hi, can I request Natasha x sick reader? Both Natasha and the reader were asked to watch Morgan while Tony and Pepper are at a company gala. Reader woke up with what they thought was a small cold, but they really start to feel unwell while they are watching Morgan. Natasha insists that the reader take it easy. Morgan wants to play doctor after she sees the reader sneezing, and Natasha ends up lovingly caring for the reader while simultaneously babysitting.

Sleepy Sickness

Pairings: Natasha x R

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: Reader comes down with a cold before her and Nat are supposed to be looking after morgan.

TW: colds, headache, children (lol), exhaustion

A/n I hope i did this idea justice :)

Not today, you couldn’t be sick today. Pepper had called at around four yesterday afternoon, their usual babysitter fell through and in a last-ditch attempt to keep from having to bring Morgan to the charity gala they had called Clint. Of course, Clint, being the most experienced with kids was an excellent choice. However, Clint was also a little shit. A little shit who had been trying to warm nat up to the idea of having children one day. Her tough past made her a little uncomfortable around most kids, Clint’s brood excluded. She often worried she may say the wrong thing or hurt them, so she hadn’t had much interaction with Morgan.

There were always the birthday parties that she attended, and Morgan called her auntie natty but Nat’s worries of doing something wrong always won out. However, Clint being Nat’s kind-of best friend had taken it upon himself to volunteer the two of you to look after Morgan. Pepper had she not been in a rush may have noticed the small abnormality, but she had been trying to sort out a small crisis for the gala, one of the catering companies had come down with some sort of bug that had been coming around and had to cancel last minute after they couldn’t find replacements for their staff.

So here you were, lying in your and Natasha’s bed with an arm over your eyes as you tried to block out the light that streamed through the cracks in the blinds. The team was out on a mission, so pepper was bringing Morgan to the compound at eleven, so they had the day to get ready. Nat was already up from the looks of the sheets beside you and you figured she was most likely training per usual. The headache was new. Sure, last night you had felt a bit off but when Nat had asked you simply said you were tired. Heck you even though you were just tired. But as the first sneeze came, followed by a short, ragged cough that seemed to tear you throat apart you knew it wasn’t just a headache. You were sick. You were sick and your girlfriend and niece needed you today.

Sighing you pulled back the sheets before shuffling into the bathroom. You looked awful. Deep purple marks marred the space under your eyes and your skin lacked its usual tan pallor. Pale and sickly was todays aesthetic from the looks of the face that stared back at you in the bathroom mirror. You sighed again and splashed some water on your face to try and wake up a little more. When that didn’t work you decided to get a coffee.

Throwing on some makeup to take the dead look from your face you brushed your teeth, coughed and changed. Your head was raging with displeasure at the light of the hallways thanks to the big windows. You considered grabbing Nat’s sunglasses but when you couldn’t find them you gave up. After making your way to the kitchen and starting the coffee machine you slumped into a chair resting your warm head in your hands and closing your eyes.

Feeling hands on your shoulders you jumped eyes flying open.

“Woah there sweetheart.” Nat said turning her hands up in surrender. “Sorry love usually you can hear me coming.” She said frowning. She hovered her hands an inch from your shoulders and you nodded as she lowered them and began to massage your tense muscles.

“Jus’ a bit tired” you said slurring slightly from exhaustion.

‘Are you sure thats all your very tense darling.” She said.

“Ok maybe I’m not feelings so hot right now.” You said and turned away to muffle a painful sounding cough into the crook of your elbow. Nat rubbed your back as you stopped and pulled away to look at her, wincing as you spoke, your voice raw. “Sorry.” You said and Natasha frowned.

“Don’t apologise. Let me get you something to drink you don’t sound too good.” She said and lacking your usually snark response you simply nodded.

Nat filled a glass at the sink raising an eyebrow at the coffee sitting still under the coffee machine now steaming and ready to drink.

“Love please tell me you weren’t going to drink this you need rest not caffeine” she said.

“Need coffee, Morgan’s coming.” You mumbled and Nat tensed before relaxing and sighing. She walked back to your side and handed you the water which you drank with a grateful look.

“Honey I’m sure pepper can find someone-“

“No!” You interpreted before coughing again and nat nudged the glass towards you again as you took a small sip. “No.” you said your voice softer. “I miss the little thing and it's just a small cold.”

“Honey you can barely keep your eyes open, you need rest.”

“Please don’t make pepper find someone else she doesn’t need the stress.”

“And neither do you, my love.” Nat countered.

“Please.” You begged and nat visibly caved.

“Ok fine. But you don’t leave the couch, I don’t care how many times we end up watching frozen, you are resting today.” She said with a stern voice, and you smiled tiredly.

“Thank you, baby.” You said and pressed a kiss to the knuckles of her left hand.

“Anything for you my sweet girl.” She said and it was at that moment Jarvis announced pepper was here. You startled. What was the time, surely you hadn’t slept in that long. Nat noticed your panicked expression and was quick to reassure you.

“Love you needed the rest so i let you sleep. Don’t worry about getting dressed pepper and Morgan are family its ok.” She said.

Truthfully, she thought you looked quite precious sat in the kitchen with your Dino slippers and shark hoodie that brushed down to the back of your knees. You had small octopuses printed on the long pyjama pants which were blue and white which matched the baby blue hoodie. Your hair was in a messy bun and your makeup had not gone unnoticed by the trained spy.

“Sit tight I’ll be back in a sec.” Nat said pressing a kiss to your cheek. You nodded and turned away to sneeze. Nat shot you a sympathetic look and retreated towards the elevator to collect Morgan from the foyer.

Pepper stood tapping her heels in her worried manner as she stood with Morgan next to her, holding her little hand. Morgan was dressed in a small navy shirt with an Ironman helmet on it, sparkly pink sneakers and little black leggings. She had a red backpack over her shoulders and a glittery red skirt over the leggings. The five-year-old looked quiet cute despite having dressed herself that morning as pepper had no energy to argue.

As Nat stepped from the elevator pepper visibly relaxed. Nat walked over to them and said hello before quickly talking to pepper as Morgan tugged on her arm.

“Wheres Y/n?” Pepper asked looking past nat to find nobody there.

“Shes resting, she’s not feeling too goody. So, Morgan and I are going to have some fun today.” Nat said crouching down on her calves to address the little girl.

“Isn’t that right mo” nat said and Morgan smiled widely.

“I’ll be good for you and auntie Y/n.” Morgan said nodding and pepper smiled squeezing her hand before thanking nat and leaving.

Natasha took the young girls' hand had led her to the lift telling Jarvis to take them to the avengers' lounge which was attached to the kitchen where she left you.

Walking back in Nat saw you had called asleep headfirst on the table. She chuckled slightly and let go of Morgans hand to scoop you up. You nuzzled into her chest and stayed asleep exhaustion winning out in the end. Morgan who had watched the whole thing stood near the door was before tugging on the hem of Nat’s shirt.

“Auntie Natty.” She said whispering the way kids did when they tried to be quiet but weren’t. “Can we watch a movie while auntie Y/n sleeps?” She said and nat smiled widely.

“That’s a great idea mo. Why don’t you go pick a movie while and I’ll bring in auntie Y/n to lay on the couch with us before getting some lunch and snacks.”

“Ok!” Morgan said before taking off to complete her mission. Nat gently set you down on the couch and pilled a blanket over your sleeping form. Morgan scrolled through Netflix and nat adjusted you pillowed glancing at Morgan before quickly going to get lunch.

Nat was willing to admit she wasn’t a very good cook. You did most of the domestic stuff like cooking. Between the red room and the overall chaos of her life Nat never really got a chance to learn. You never held it against her. You loved the time you spent cooking and dancing with her in your arms in the kitchen. Listening to American Pie on the speaker.

Nat shook her head from the memory. The three of you needed lunch luckily there was something she could make.

Nat emerged from the kitchen after around fifteen minutes with three plates of peanut butter and jelly sandwiched. One for Morgan with the crusts cut off and one for you, knowing you wouldn’t be very hungry. She had one and a half on her plate having already eaten a half while making them. She also had some fruit snacks from the pantry from where tony stashed them for when Morgan came to the compound. Nat walked in and placed the food on the coffee table. Morgan, as predicted, had put on frozen and sat cross legged next to you on the couch. Nat watched as she picked up the sandwiched inspecting it before taking a bite.

Nat leaned over once Morgan settled again and she rubbed your shoulder lightly to wake you. You stirred and Nat helped you eat your food before you fell asleep again.

Around an hour later the movie ended and you were still sleeping, Nat went to queue up frozen two but the momentary lapse in the entertainment left Morgan feeling bored. She turned to look at you, swaddled in blankets. Suddenly you sneezed waking yourself up. Your tired eyes looked around.

“Natty?” You said sounding rough and groggy.

“Im here love.” Nat said, “go back to sleep.” She said and you closed your eyes and hummed quietly.

“Auntie natty?” Morgan asked whispering again.

“Yes mo?” Nat asked pressing play on the movie.

“Can we play doctors for auntie Y/n?” She asked and Nat hesitated. She didn’t want the little girl to get sick, pepper would probably never let her babysit again and as nervous as the girl made her the day had been quite enjoyable, it wasn’t often she allowed herself to relax like this. Nat settled on the next next thing.

“Ok, can you help me get her some medicine and make some tea with me?” Morgan nodded excited at the idea of helping. “Im sure it will help auntie Y/n get better soon.” Nat said and stood led Morgan to the kitchen slightly surprised as the girls slipped her small hand into Natasha’s. She didn’t pull away, instead giving it a soft squeeze and smiling at the little girl. Morgan had a pep in her step and a smile that lit a sparkle in her eyes. The girl was simply adorable.

Nat boiled the kettle as Morgan looked through the cupboards for camomile tea. Once locating it she held it out to nat in her small hands. Nat took it and blew her a kiss making the girl giggle. The noise made Natasha’s heart swell.

Once she had helped Morgan measure out the right dose of medicine and put the tea, tissues, pills, water and cough medicine on a tray, she walked behind the girl as she slowly walked into the lounge carefully balancing some of the items on the tray. Nat had taken the glass off incase she dropped it. Sipping the water so Morgan didn’t know why she took it not wanting to upset the girl with thinking she didn’t have faith in her. She simply wanted to avoid tears at all costs. That was your department. Setting the tray on the table Morgan came and gently woke you up. Stirred and Morgan watched as Natasha handed you the tissues which you used the blow your nose before discarding the tissue into the bin Morgan held out to you.

You took the pills and drank some tea, but when nat handed you the cough mixture you turned your nose up. Morgan frowned and beat Nat to it.

“Auntie Y/n you have to drink the medicine it makes the sickness go away. My daddy says its full of mini superhero’s which battle and get rid of all the bad guys making us sick.” She said and you smiled. Nat shot you a glare telling you with her look not to upset the child who had a very basic understanding of germs. You sighed and took it like a shot.

“Yay.” Morgan said and handed you back your tea. You took it gratefully and washed down the taste of the medicine. Morgan sat next to you a agin and waited for the Tv to be turned back on. Nat chuckled at your soft yet confused expression and sat herself, pulling you into her arms and turning on the movie.

The three of you curled up together as you were careful not to breathe on Morgan and make her sick. Curled up on the couch is exactly where pepper and Tony found you in the early morning when they came to pick up Morgan from the half sleepover due to the late running time of the gala.

Pepper snapped a quick picture of the three of you cuddling before tony scooped up Morgan to take home. Pepper wrote a short note letting you know they took her and let you sleep before she tucked the blanket over the two you again. You wiggled further into Natasha’s arms and pepper audibly cooed at the sight before switching off the tv and light before leaving you to rest. Hopefully the comfortable position wouldn’t leave you achier the next day.

MASTERLIST

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