#if this uploads twice after me trying to upload it for over an hour i can and will kill myself

[aizawasbrazybaby]

❥𓂃𓏧Freak Like Me

𖦹Warnings: Corrupt Cop!Nanami x Fem!Reader, Pet names? (Calls reader Beautiful a lot), Semi-public (car sex), p in v sex, Oral (fem receiving), Very brief mention of blood, Cervix kissing, Dubcon (consent is implied but he doesn’t ask before touching reader)

𖦹Word Count: 1.7k (I had to restrain myself from making it longer🥲)

🫧: Hello everyone sorry for any mistakes I always try to proof read at least twice before posting. Also I’ll be attempting to upload here and WP on Fridays at 5pm est.🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Summaryᐕ: It was supposed to be a late night traffic stop…only he was off duty and everyone knows what happens after dark.

Air moved deeply through your lungs harshly exiting your nose. Those fluorescent blue and red lights flashed obnoxiously bright, forcing your eyes to shut into a squint. The officer’s tall figure strutted over to your old compact sedan that was honestly hanging on by the grace of god herself. His blonde hair and white skin contrasted the chilled bitter darkness. Fingers tapped the window and signed for it to be rolled down. Your eyes hit the back of your head as you followed the lawful command.

And holy fuck…

A chill ran up your spine. He looked like the finest piece of art man could make- so much so you had to do a double take at the patrol car to see if it was the real deal. That this wasn’t an elaborate prank by some shitty tv show or idiotic influencers that didn’t know how illegal impersonating an officer was.

“Pretty late for a lady like you to be out here dontcha think,” he glanced at the bloody scrubs in your passenger seat, “long night?”

“That easy to tell?” your fingers rubbed at the dark circles under both eyes, “sorry but is your bodycam on?”

A strange mix of a laugh and hum rumbled in his throat, “license and registration ma’am.”

A demand.

Mint intertwined in his cool breath as he let out an annoyed sigh waiting for you to gather your things. As if you initiated the traffic stop on him. He softly snatched at the forms you handed to him.

“What has you out here so late, nurse ____?” His gaze flickered back to the passenger seat.

“Doctor,” you corrected.

“What?”

“It’s Dr._____ I’m not a nurse.”

He grinned, “well, many apologies for my ignorance.” You looked in his narrow eyes and something shifted in you. In both of you. Your pants felt almost suffocating on your throbbing pussy as that honey-like essence pooled to your center.

“I-I just got off work at the hospital,” you pointed behind you, “third twelve hour shift this week. I pulled over to get some sleep, heard somewhere that driving tired is as bad as driving drunk.”

Why’s his stare gotta be so intense? Your mind raced. Eyes lowering to his beautifully plump lips. Watching his tongue swipe teasingly slow over the bottom one before it was held between his teeth.

Good fucking God.

“Have you been drinking tonight?” You could have swore a glimpse of a grin flashed just as quickly as it had disappeared . His calloused fingers softly traced your jawline, thumb running across your lips. A line was crossed. Several lines. But shit it’s been so long since you’d been caressed. And the man before you was so alluring. You leaned into Nanami’s touch- your eyes fluttering shut for a second before burning into his.

“No, officer.”

“Why don’t you step out for me beautiful,” his voice low and seductive. Embarrassment burned through you from how quickly you obeyed. Horny and stupid. Desperate and horny. He looked you up and down then grabbed your hands. Cold to the touch but you didn’t pull away, placing them behind your head, “Lock your fingers.”

Holy hell he was close.

You could feel the heat emanating from his mouth. Circling you he stopped behind, pressing against your back. His belt. The service belt was nowhere to be found. Pressure started at the wrist and worked its way to your waist. Outlining the shape. His fingers trailed over your breasts. so. very. slow. Each finger took its time feeling the buds that hardened under.

Desperation made itself known from a slight gasp that morphed into a whimper, “shit.”

Nanami groaned in response. He walked back around, hands lowering to the fat of your ass gripping and squeezing. He placed a kiss on your cheek and nipped at your jaw.

“Sir,” you glanced at the abandoned strip of road, “not out here.”

His hand pulled to the front rubbing your pussy through your thin sweats. His digits worked their way inside feeling how wet you were. Snatching a moan from your throat that your own ears struggled to recognize. No panties. A bold move on your end.

“Get in the backseat,” his teeth caught on your bottom lip. An arm rounded your waist pulling you away from your car before opening the door for you. He blocked your head from hitting the top of the doorway like he would if sticking you in his squad truck.

Before you could speak your sweats were around your ankles. His eyes looked back at you as he kissed up your thigh, “want me to stop?”

“No!” Your voice was under a shout. Loud. Desperate. And beyond fucking horny for the stranger with his upper half leaning between your legs. The other hanging out the car.

He chuckled, “okay doctor.” His tongue ran up your slit catching the enticing liquid that glazed parts of your skin. Ecstasy swam through your veins and straight to where the man was now sucking your sensitive clit. Hands sliding through his healthy locks he moaned on your cunt. You hissed at the feeling.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

You sat your head up seeing Nanami dig in your pocket and pull out your phone. He flashed the screen and your heart skipped a beat. “Don’t.” From his shit eating grin you knew he wasn’t gonna listen. He firmly pressed the green answer and tossed you the phone.

“Hey JESS,” you stifled the moan that clawed to be set free. The cop pushed your thighs apart, thrusting his middle and ring fingers inside. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden intrusion. Savoring that pain spiked with pleasure.

Is that mommy? Your six year old asked sleepily in the background.

Hey Miss.____ I was just checkin on ya. It’s pretty late just wanted to see if everything was okay

“Y-yes hon everything’s fine just got off work a bit late.”

Nanami unbuttoned his slacks, releasing his erection. Lining himself to your pussy that clenched around nothing. He smiled from ear to ear slowly inching himself deep.

That’s good. Baby Kiri keeps askin for ya wanna say good night before I put her to bed?

“No!” you lowered your tone, taking a fistful of Kento’s shirt, “no need I’ll s-see her when I g-get home.”

He took the phone muting and keeping it on speaker, “lemme hear you beautiful,” his pace increased. Squelching and your squeals filled the car, “fuck darling n-nice and loud. That’s it.”

“Nanami,” you whimpered, “fuck pleaseee.” You dragged.

“Uh uh Kento when I’m fucking you,” he smirked.

Why not? Hello? ___ are you there? Is everything okay?

He thrust one last time before plunging his cock deep inside. And fuck. Fuck. fuck. fuck. His tip was pressing against your cervix. Your legs started to shake slightly but enough where he noticed. And you clenching tight around him had his eyes rolling back and breathing heavy.

Unmute. “I-I’m fine Jess. Just in a bit of a s-situation right now.”

His hips rocked slowly bringing that tight coil closer. His teeth glided over your throat, “gonna drive me crazy hang up that damn phone,” you could sense his lust from his deep whisper.

Should I send someone out there? What’s happening?

“No need, ‘mtaking good care of her,” he growled at the nanny.

Who is this? Where’s ___??

“Gonna have to, ah, call you b-back.” You tried your best not to let it out but that moan slipped through and no doubt she picked up. Nanami took your phone tossing it atop those dirty scrubs.

Oh…ohh, it clicked. She hung up immediately.

He slammed his hips into yours. Faster. Stronger. Until that coil grew so tight in the both of you that you were shouting each other's names as you came. His hot cum filling you up so full and you leaving your cream all over him that is splattered just below his belly button. Drained of all his energy and stamina he rocked into you riding out the high to both of your orgasms.

“Kento,” you said breathlessly, “thank you.” Of course he didn’t know what you were thanking him for. Didn’t know you’d been so deprived from a man’s touch. You craved some kind of sexual interaction. Didn’t know he relieved so much of the pent up stress from work and being a single mother.

“Any time beautiful.” He panted but managed to keep a smile on his handsome face. He pulled out looking for something, anything to help clean you up. When his eyes landed on you, you pointed to the front seat.

“Got a few baby wipes in the glove compartment.”

He nodded. You watched as he climbed out zippering his pants as his head fell back. Taking in the cool night breeze. God he was something to behold. Walking around the front he took out the pack of wipes and jogged back to you.

“Does anything hurt? Are you alright?” He asked back to his monotone as he wiped your thighs and intimate parts.

“I’m alright.”

“Think you can walk?” he shimmied your sweats back up, shoving something in the pocket. Before you could even answer he pulled you to the edge of the car by your legs making you yelp. He held you like a bride before placing you in the driver seat.

“Hope so.” You said quietly. His hand grabbed the back of your head through the window pulling you in a kiss. Long and passionate. If you knew anything it was that this man was gonna be the death of you. You felt yourself getting wet all over again.

“G’night…officer Nanami.” You looked deeply in his eyes.

“Get home safe.” He didn’t smile or break the contact. He climbed back in his car shutting off the lights and starting his car back up. Digging in your pocket you pulled out his business card that had his number written neatly in blue pen on the backside. Your mouth gaped open and looked out your window as he was passing you. Driving slow he seen the card in your hand and winked at you. That shit eating grin back on his lips.

Staring daggers back at the card you wondered how long you were really out for.

[pigcowboys]

baking shenanigans !

pairing; ꒰percy jackson x gn!reader꒱⋆·˚

summary: you and percy bake a cake! :D

warning(s): uninstructed baking, mutual pining, sickeningly sweet fluff.

a/n: heyy!! this is my first post on tumblr :) this is actually a story taken from my ao3, i just uploaded it on here  😭 enjoy!

“How about this one?” Percy asked, holding up a small pack of assorted jelly fruits.

“We can’t afford that.” 

“This one?” 

“Nope.”

Percy hummed in thought before turning around and pulling out a dusty bag filled with expired looking food..? At least that’s what you thought it was.

“I know you don’t actually want that.”  Percy smiled.

“C’mon Perce, you have take this seriously,” You sighed. “ We don’t have time to be goofing off.”

Percy frowned, throwing the dusty packaging away. 

“Well, excuse me for trying to spice up this trip a bit.” He huffed dramatically. You gave him a sarcastic smile before pushing the cart to the next aisle. 

“Seriously, you should take a break – you’ve been up since at least 5 in the morning.” Percy remarked, trailing behind you. “I feel fine.” You lied, scanning the aisle for olive oil. “Besides, someone has to get this done,” You added. “We need to eat.” 

Percy gazed at you with concern as you attempted to reach for the olive oil at the very top of the shelves. You flinched when you felt Percy’s figure behind you, reaching up and snagging the oil for you. 

“It’s okay to ask for help, you know.” 

“I had it.”

“Sure.” 

You grabbed the oil from him, nudging him in the side playfully as you placed it into the cart. Percy laughed slightly, trailing behind you as your cart drifted towards the confectionary aisle. His eyes lit up as something caught his eye. 

“Cake Mix?” You asked, eyeing the box curiously.

“Yeah!” Percy replied enthusiastically.

You gave a small smile before taking the mix from his hands. “I don’t know if we can afford stuff like this with our tight budget..” You trailed off, stopping when you made eye contact with Percy. 

He was doing his worst attempt at making “puppy dog eyes”, it looked more like he had contracted tetanus. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him with concern. 

“Please stop.” 

“Stop what?” He replied.

“Making your face like that.”

“Like whaaat ?”

“You’re so annoying.” You replied, scrunching your nose is disgust as you threw the cake mix into your cart.

Percy cheered in response, bracing all his weight onto your back as he sputtered out small “Thanks you’s” and “You’re the best!”

After prying his hands off you, you two proceeded to the checkout and then back home. 

Bracing against the passenger seat, you peeked your head out the window as you the car sped past various apartments and houses. 

“Hey, keep your head inside,” Percy warned. “Have you ever seen Hereditary?” 

You laughed slightly. 

“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” 

Percy shrugged. 

“Didn’t you say it was one of your favorites?” He turned to you with a boyish smile gracing his lips. “I wanted to understand why you like it so much.”

You felt your heart pang. 

“Oh,” You mumbled. “ Thanks.” 

Percy smiled. 

 “Did you like it?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your body started to heat up.

“Kept me up for a few nights but! I loved it.” 

You smiled goofily. 

“Maybe i should tell you about some of my favorite non scary movies, I want you to get all 8 hours.”

You grabbed your apron from your closet, shutting the door behind you as you walked towards the kitchen. Your eyes landed on Percy who was observing the back of the Cake Mix intently as he read the instructions.

“What’re you reading?” You asked, hopping over to him.

“Instructions,” He replied. “Can’t mess this up, you know?”

You gazed at him lovingly as a small smile sprung on your face. 

You carefully took the box from his hands, skimming through the instructions before ripping the packaging open. 

Percy looked at you with concern.

“Don’t we need that?”

“You’ve baked before, right?” You asked.

“Once or Twice but my mom is really the bak–”

“Perfect! You’ll do all the work.”

He sighed but didn’t say anything else, tying his apron as he searched in the cupboards for the stand mixer, bringing it to the sink and washing it out after finding it.

He placed it gently on the counter, plugging it in and setting up the beaters.

He reached his hand out in a “give me” motion, to which you didn’t respond, silently opening the dry cake mix and pouring it into the bowl. Percy glared at you momentarily before reaching over and grabbing the fresh oil you’d just bought from the store. 

Oil, then Water and then it was time to mix.

“How do you use this thing?” You asked, examining it skeptically.

“Good question.” Percy mumbled.

You read through the crumpled up instructions, making it out as best as you could.

“Oh, there’s a button!” You chimed.

You leaned forward, pressing a small button on the side of the mixer – only for it to turn on and blow cake mix in your face. You heard Percy let a small snort before full on roaring in laughter. 

“Screw you.” 

“You wish you could.”

You pursed your lips, flinging some of the dry mix at him.

It barely even hit him.

“ Okokokok , i’m sorry!” He covered his mouth. “ Let's just mix it already.”

A mix later and it was time to pour the cake batter into a container, place it in an oven and bake it. You picked out a suitable container from the bottom cabinet, turning to Percy, who was adding drops of blue food coloring to the batter. 

“Can’t wait for the day you wake up with a completely blue mouth.”

Percy laughed sarcastically.

You hummed in triumph, standing beside him as you placed the pan down, spraying a layer of non-stick oil on it. 

Percy mixed the coloring in, detaching the bowl from the stand as he carefully poured the batter into the bowl. Then it was off the counter and into the scorching hot oven.

You sighed contently, plopping down on the sofa with your legs sprawled out. 

“Now, we wait..” You trailed off, scrolling through the movie options on the TV. Percy sighed out, sitting down next to you. He glanced at you for a split second as if he was thinking about something. 

“Alright! What movie do you wanna watch?”

“Hmm, something horror related?” 

You snorted.

“You actually wanna watch a horror movie?” 

“Don’t underestimate me,” He replied. “ I’m a big boy.”

You side eyed him.

“Whatever you say.”

You clicked on the horror section, eyes lighting up when you found a movie to your liking. You pressed play, watching in anticipation as the movie started to load up. When it began to play, you leaned back, attempting to get comfortable.

Luckily, Percy was trying to do the same thing.

You flinched slightly when you felt Percy lay his head on your thighs. 

“What’re you doing?” You choked out.

“Getting comfortable,” He replied. 

Percy titled his head to look at you. 

“Are you okay with this?” 

You nodded slowly in response, eyes drifting away from him as you attempted to watch the movie normally.

Percy seemed to be enjoying the movie but you couldn’t really focus on all the killing and screaming when he was resting on your thighs, bouncing slightly whenever something scary happened in the movie. There was even one point where you were actually focusing on something else besides Percy in your lap only for you to catch him staring up at you . 

It was torture.

Even when the movie had concluded, you had not one clue what was going on at all – and Percy still hadn’t retired from his spot on your thighs either.

“What do you wanna watch next?” You murmured out. 

Percy hummed in thought, looking up at you.  “Mmm, what do you wanna watch?”

‘You.’

“Err, I’m not good at making decisions.” You dismissed.

Percy looked at you skeptically. “Didn’t you pick the movie?”

“I was possessed.”

“You’re right, I can see the life draining from your eyes.”

“Hardy har har.”

Percy snickered. 

“Are you okay? You seem skittish.” 

“Must be your huge head cutting off the blood circulation in my thighs.”

“You know you say stuff like that then do nothing about it.” He replied, drawing shapes on your thigh.

“Get off of me.”

“Nah, I don't want to.”

You groaned but didn’t do any further rebuttal, instead opting to scroll through the selection of movies. 

Percy mumbled your name causing you to look down at him.

“Can I tell you something?” 

You deadpanned.

“What is it now?”

A small smile broke out on his face.

“You’re the coolest person I've ever met.”

Your mouth hung open. 

You scanned Percy’s face for any signs of joking and your heart dropped when you didn’t find any. He was being dead serious.

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m not?”

“You’re not .”

Percy laughed warmly.

“I wasn’t joking,” He replied. “ I mean it – wholeheartedly.”

You bit back a grin.

“Well, if you’re not then – i guess on a good day, at the right degree, with the sun ou–”

“Okay.”

You laughed uncontrollably.

“I think you’re cool too, Perce”

He smiled, shuffling slightly as he cleared his throat.

“Does this mean you’ll let me sleep with you tonight?”

“That movie totally freaked you out, didn’t it?”

“That movie totally freaked me out."

[piracytheorist]

I want to ask my followers for something.

I'm actually bringing this back because the person involved has showed themselves to be incredibly rude and immature.

Reminder, for anyone who didn't catch the post (that actually didn't exist for long, lol), that I don't want you to interact with this person. Don't comment, don't harass, don't do anything other than what I ask of you - and that's of course, if you are willing to follow. No judgment if you don't, and I won't know who followed either way.

Also, don't share this. I don't want this getting out of hand. Don't make me feel guilty, ok? I'm just trying to make things right.

Again, DO NOT HARASS THE PERSON I'LL MENTION. Don't comment anything on the video I'll link. Don't try to find them anywhere else. Just do one simple thing I'll ask, if you want to.

I mean it. I'll be checking the video. If I see negative comments on it I'll personally track down whoever made it and report them for harassment, as well as publicly share their username and their rude comments. I'm very serious that I don't want you to harass anyone. Keep quiet about it. Don't harass and don't comment anything. If you harass, I'll make sure you get harassed back.

So the thing is, someone reposted a video from my youtube account. Like straight-up downloaded the video and uploaded it on their account as if it's their own. I asked them, twice, to delete the video.

It looks like they were deleting my comments, even though I can still see them. For context, here's what I asked them the first two times:

The bottom one is the first one, the top one is the second, I think I posted them with a couple days in between or something. The timestamp says they were two months ago.

After my second comment, they made the video private (I checked), but it looks like some days ago they made it public again. After I found out they made the video public again, I commented with this:

Which I had to find through my comments history since the video is private again, and not deleted.

Then, on their account, there's another video with similar content, but it looks to be... "original". Only problem is, pretty much all scenes in this video also exist in a sideblog I made, @outofcontextonceuponatime. But I have no proof to ask for anything on that, so I'm just letting it be.

However, because this felt like the only way to contact that person, I commented there. And oh boy.

That was the first comment thread. I didn't believe them for a moment when they said they don't have their pc available and that they don't know how to delete a video through the app, but I decided to give it a little push. Anyway, the reposted video still exists, just on private. I make another comment, and well.

I'll let you be the judge here.

And then, this last update of just a few minutes ago:

So, just to show that person that I'm actually fucking serious and that their behaviour is absolutely deplorable, because yeah how fucking dare I "complain" that someone reposted my video that I put hours of work on, I would like to ask you to go to that second video and dislike it.

DO NOT COMMENT. DO NOT HARASS THAT PERSON. Don't even hit like on my comments, it's not worth it. Just hit the dislike button on the video and close the tab.

Again, this video I'll link here is NOT a repost, (I believe they were directly influenced by my sideblog to make it and didn't credit me but that's not serious enough to do anything about it) the reposted video is (for) now private and that kid over there thinks they can "threaten" me with never deleting it. I will only link the second "original" video for you to dislike, in the hopes of giving them an idea that I am serious and that I have people to back me up.

Again, DON'T HARASS THEM. For all I know a single "haha stupid" comment could send them over the edge, and while they've been incredibly rude, this would be an unfair punishment. I want them to see massive dislikes on their "original" video after people have realized what an obnoxious person they've been, and to be rocked a little and realize that oh shit, I can't act like that on the internet. Just make it a little reminder, you know? I believe getting a lot of dislikes on a video can get that message across without causing any actual damage.

(If you want, I can also let y'all know when the reposted video is deleted, so you can un-dislike the "original" video)

Anyway, here is the link for the video. again, don't harass, don't comment, just hit dislike and leave.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4sTYbOTkHb4

[italiansteebie]

Love on Screen

Episode 3, also on ao3 , Episode Two, Episode One

Dustin sighed as he trudged up the stairs to his room. 

“Only one video before homework, Dusty!”

“Okay, mom!” He shouted back, closing his door with a quiet click. He set his backpack down on the floor before settling into his desk chair in front of his laptop. He opened his laptop, immediately clicking on the youtube icon, searching for one of his favorite streamers to watch to decompress after school. Corrodededdie’s content was great for doing just that, especially since Mike had harassed the guy for hours and ended up getting them 12 hours of content that he’d only really made a dent in because his mother said she’d take away his laptop if he stayed up to watch the live 12 hour stream. So now he’s catching up with the compilations and freakouts he missed when he clicked out of the stream at the 8 hour mark. 

He was mindlessly scrolling, trying to find a video he’s never seen or one that’s funny enough to rewatch when a new upload catches his eye. It was only occasionally that corrodededdie uploaded videos that weren’t compilations for his live, so when he did it was particularly good. And this one was even better. 

“Holy shit,” he had to text Mike. 

‘Dude dude dude did you see Eddies new video? Steve goes to hell is in it asbfjdhcnbd’

‘Wtf no hav u watched it yet’

‘Watching rn’

He clicked on the video titled “Steve gets corroded,” and settled in, he could tell this one was going to be good. “What’s up shit heads! I’ve got Steve goes to hell here with me today to play the slenderman game,” Eddie’s voice floated through his speakers, “You call your subscribers shitheads?”

“Yeah, what do you call yours?” 

“Uh. Usually I just say ‘hey guys.’” Dustin could see the connection through the screen, and he let the smile spread across his face. He was positively enamored with this new duo and he could only hope that they did more videos like this. It was Steve’s first time playing the slenderman game and it was hilarious. He kept screaming and barking at the screen like that was somehow going to help him. And Eddie was trying to help but couldn’t get the words out because he was too busy laughing at Steve. “You do this for fun? Jesus, it’s giving me a heart attack,” Steve said, and Dustin watched as Eddie laughed maniacally. “It is fun!” 

“No it’s not! Agh!” 

 As the video went on, Dustin grew more and more confused. They were a good duo but it seemed like they were closer than they let on. Eddie would scare Steve and then immediately comfort him afterwards. It was still his normal brand of chaos but a little softer? How interesting. He briefly wonders if he’s reading into this too much, and maybe they’re just really fast friends, but a comment pops up from another viewer telling them to ‘get a room.’ 

The video came to an end as Steve screamed at the 6th time slenderman killed him, and Eddie cried with laughter in the background. “Eddie, that was awful.” Steve said, scrubbing a hand over his face and turning away from the monitor. “It wasn’t that bad.” Steve shook his head and pushed at Eddie’s shoulder, and then the screen went blank. Dustin sat back in his chair, searching through the comments. 

‘Nancy and Rob: You guys are so gross’

‘El212: are they dating??’

‘Madmax44: they’re a couple for sure’

‘Corrodededdie: a couple of besties’

‘Steve goes to hell: the fuck dawg?’

Dustin shook his head at their antics. Whatever was happening with them was kind of weird, but it worked out in Dustin’s favor. If they make two videos together, one for each of their channels, that was twice the content! 

‘I don’t like that guy,’ it was a text from Mike, who was notoriously grumpy, he sighed, of course Mike didn’t like Steve. Mike didn’t like anything fun except for DnD and the only sessions they’ve had were the online version which, to be honest, sucks. So he ignored the text from Mike and pulled out his calculus homework. That would be more fun than trying to get Mike to see the appeal of ‘Steve goes to hell’ anyways.

—

It had been a few weeks since Eddie and Steve’s first collab and Dustin was getting antsy for new content. Luckily for him, Robin of “Nancy and Rob” had uploaded a new vlog, and although she wasn’t his favorite, it was still content. And the fact that she was friends with both Steve and Eddie gave him a sliver of hope that there’d be at least a few crumbs of content from both of them. And oh boy was there. The video started out with Robin opening the door to Steve, pulling him inside and sitting him on the couch. She immediately got into the video and asked Steve what the last text he sent was. She had quite the mischievous grin on her face. Steve read the last text, it was talking about some guy. 

Dustin watched as Robin wrestled the phone away from Steve before showing the screen to her camera. It was a screenshot from one of Eddie’s videos. Oh my god, Steve was asking for Eddie’s instagram. This must’ve been from a few weeks ago, seeing as Steve and Eddie definitely knew each other now. Dustin wiggled in his seat excitedly. Two of his favorite creators were becoming one. (If the influx of videos they were making together said anything.)

Though, there was still the debate of whether or not the two were dating. Dustin considered what they had shown on camera, and they were pretty cozy with each other, but whenever asked about their relationship they only ever said they were “besties,” with matching grins. 

And look, Dustin wasn’t blind, he could see that the two were feeling some type of way about each other, he just couldn’t tell what type of way that really was. Dating feelings? Best Friendly feelings? When he talked to Will about it, the resident gay of his closest friends, he’d only shrugged and said maybe. Now, he’s probably right, that they were just friends, but Dustin has never acted like that with any of his friends. 

In the end, it didn't really matter because they were making content together and that was good enough for Dustin, and apparently everyone else. Soon enough it wasn’t a ‘Steve goes to hell’ video if Eddie didn’t at least make a cameo. 

In their most recent video, they had made a birthday cake for Piggy, Steve’s beloved but albeit, raggedy old cat. And this particular video didn’t help the relationship allegations because whenever Steve would talk about his friend Tommy, or any of his exes, Eddie would go “The fuck dawg?” Like he was jealous or something. Despite the debate the content that came out of it was hilarious, Eddie’s chaotic energy matched with Steve’s mildly anxious energy created something wonderfully funny, and something about the two was so endearing it made Dustin only want more. 

And he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Whenever Eddie would go live anymore, the chat would be full of questions asking where Steve was until Eddie finally gave in and called for him to come make a cameo. Luckily for the viewers, it seemed like he was always there. And it made Dustin wonder if Steve ever went back to his own house. 

[fixfoxnox]

Something In the Orange - Part 6

Summary: Roach and Price's mission in Russia goes wrong

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of violence, implied/referenced child abuse

Note: I am also uploading this fic to my Ao3 if you would prefer to read it there!

Word Count: 6.5k

"Said this life took most of you, gave you twice and the day was through

You said it all turned out awfully fair

So tell me tales of all the times and all the seasons you got by

Breathin' in that cold November air"

"November Air" - Zach Bryan

“This is going well!” Came the joking call from Price as he shoved himself into the driver's side of the truck he and Roach had taken cover by. He made sure to stay low to avoid any of the bullets that sprayed towards him. 

Roach covered him as he started the truck, using the door of the passenger side as a barrier between him and the small army of men who were slowly overwhelming himself and Price. He delivered several quick shots around the door, taking out several men. “I would not call this well!” He responded after a moment, a hiss leaving his lips as he felt a bullet graze past his face. 

Intercepting the shipment had been fairly easy. Using snipers, the two had taken out several men that were guarding their path to the weapons deal. Roach felt that the two had been crawling in the high grass for hours by the time they’d actually made it close enough to see where the deal was happening. At that point, it was a waiting game. 

Before they could strike, they would have to wait for Makarov’s men to show up with the weapons, get confirmation on the weapons, and get confirmation that it was Al Quatala that Makarov was trading with. It had been fairly easy to identify the Al Quatala members, so their first check was done. 

When a large truck packed to the brim with wooden boxes made its appearance at the meeting area, both Price and Roach knew that their time had come to check off the last two things on their list. 

They’d used the various trucks as cover, crawling under the vehicles when they could, but ducking behind them when it wasn’t safe for them to be underfoot. They’d nearly been caught numerous times, Price had been forced to shoot a few men who had come around a corner at the wrong time, and Roach couldn’t remember the number of men he’d stabbed with his knife. They rolled the men’s bodies under the vehicles to keep them hidden. 

Once they’d made it close enough to the truck, they simply ducked down and watched the weapons exchange. When one of the boxes from the truck was opened to reveal several different types of weapons, Price had determined it was time for the two of them to act. 

Unfortunately, there was no real way for the two to stealthily steal a truck full of weapons, so it was no surprise to either of them that they were spotted practically as soon as they got within a few feet of the truck.

All hell broke loose and the two were forced to quickly kill the men around the truck as they began taking fire. Price had volunteered to drive the vehicle as Roach was the quicker shot, which was exactly how they found themselves trying to dodge bullets as Price hotwired the truck. 

Roach ran out of bullets on his semi-automatic weapon fairly quickly, cursing to himself as he was forced to switch to his handgun. He could pull his sniper back out, but the weapon wasn’t meant for close combat and would likely only cause more issues than it was worth. 

Just as Roach began to move to his last clip for his gun, he heard the truck next to him roar to life. Price had finally managed to get the truck started and with a slam of the driver-side door, Roach knew it was time to go. 

 He gave himself a quick countdown before slamming his cover, the passenger side door, closed and making a quick jump over the edge of the bed of the truck. He kept himself low in the bed of the truck and, as bullets dinged the metal of the truck, he loaded his last clip into his handgun. He popped up to land several shots on men who had made it uncomfortably close to the truck before calling to Price, “Go! Get us the hell out of here!” 

Price slammed the gas, the truck taking off quick enough that Roach slammed painfully against the edge of the truck he’d been using as cover, the air knocked from his lungs. He took a moment to gather himself, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy as the truck pulled onto a highway and began weaving through traffic. 

Though they had a headstart on the rest of Makarov’s men, they were also lugging around an extremely heavy load of weaponry, meaning that it didn’t take long for the men to catch up with them. Though Roach was an excellent shot, he knew that the movement of the vehicle would throw him off enough that, with only his own gunfire, the men were sure to catch up to the truck and overtake them. 

With that in mind, Roach tore open one of the boxes in the vehicle, ignoring the sounds of gunfire beginning again in favor of looking through the weapons to find something useful. He decided rather quickly on an SMG. With his aim being stunted by the movement of the truck, the high rate of fire on the weapon was sure to provide him with a better chance of hitting the men chasing them.

After loading the weapon and waiting for a lull in the gunfire, Roach popped up from his cover in the truck and began spraying at the closest enemy vehicle he could see. He didn’t bother aiming at the piles of men in the backs of the trucks, instead focusing his fire on the driver. 

It was certainly a challenge to try to keep his balance and accurately shoot at someone, but he was more than pleased when, after a few tries, he saw the driver of the closest vehicle slump over, his body jerking the vehicle to the right and causing it to flip over on its side. He was even more pleased when he saw another one of the enemy vehicles run into the one that had just crashed. 

He continued this way for some time, aiming for the driver of any vehicle that got close enough to him. Despite the difficulties, he was doing a fairly good job at keeping back any of the men that were following himself and Price. At least he was until his gun ran out of ammo. 

He immediately started digging through another box, searching for a weapon as best as he could with renewed gunfire aimed at him. It was while desperately digging through one of the boxes that he noticed two of the enemy vehicles moving up and around to the side of the truck he and Price were in. One glance at the road ahead of him told him exactly what the men were going to try and do. 

“Price,” he called desperately, “They’re going to take out the bridge!” A moment later and he spotted the RPGs. 

“Can you take them out?” Price responded with a yell. 

“Not in time,” Roach said, “I don’t have a weapon and they’ve already got their shots lined up!”

“Alright, we’ll just have to use it to our advantage. Get in the cab, Roach.”

Roach had no idea what Price’s plan was, but he followed the order, climbing around the side of the truck to force himself into the passenger seat, his grip tight on the vehicle as he moved. He did not want to be a splat on the pavement, and with the speed of the truck and gunfire still ringing out, he was sure he was going to be. After a few tries, he managed to fully sling the door to the passenger side open, quickly maneuvering himself into the passenger seat and letting the door slam shut behind him. He took several deep breaths before looking at Price, “What’s the plan?”

“We’re driving the truck off the bridge.”

“What?” Roach felt his heart drop into his stomach. He was sure Price had fully lost his mind to come up with such a plan.

Rather than respond, Price pulled something from his waist and handed it to Roach, “It’s a grapple,” Price explained, “Aim it at the top of the bridge and use the truck’s momentum to swing yourself across.”

“You have to be kiddin-” Roach didn’t get to fully express his concerns, the bridge in front of them exploding and leaving both Roach and Price only a few seconds to react and jump out of the vehicle before it would race over the ledge.

Price reacted first, kicking his door open and aiming the small device toward the top of the bridge. Roach, cursing everything that had led him to this moment, tried to do the same. As he reached out the door to aim his device, he felt a searing pain in his arm, his hand dropping the device on instinct. 

One of the men on the other trucks had landed a lucky shot with a spray of bullets and Roach found himself still in the truck with no way out. His luck was once again leading him toward death. 

The truck grew closer and closer to the now-exploded bridge, hitting rubble as it went and knocking Roach painfully around the cab of the truck. He was surprised the vehicle hadn’t tipped over with the way it was jolting dangerously to the side. He didn’t have many options left and, with the truck nearing the drop-off, he acted on instinct. 

Roach kicked the door to the truck open and, with one last curse to his luck, he tucked into himself and rolled out of the vehicle. He could hear the truck as it slammed into the other side of the bridge and began falling into the water below, but he couldn’t focus on that as his body rolled and skidded painfully across the road. He was still carrying the momentum from the truck and he couldn’t control his movements, so he continued to slide, the pavement biting harshly into the skin of his arms, palms, and stomach as he tried to right himself. Pieces of his gear were lost in the process, leaving little to no barrier between the road and skin. Roach tried to slow himself down, pressing his feet to the ground in front of him in an effort to stop. That only succeeded in sending him jolting forward to knock his face against a piece of debris in his route. He only just managed to blink the black dots from his eyes as his body skidded off of the edge of the bridge. 

He managed to catch himself with his injured arm, a small scream leaving his lips as his body weight pulled painfully on his shoulder, resulting in a sickening popping noise. With the pain in his shoulder and the bullet wound to his forearm, he felt his grip slipping. He only barely managed to switch hands before his grip gave out. 

With pain coursing through his body, he knew there was no way that he’d be able to pull himself up onto the bridge, still, he tried. As he began pulling himself upwards with his one arm several pieces of the bridge above him began shifting, and soon his body was jolting down for several feet before catching suddenly. He realized quickly that if he kept trying to move, he was sure to end up falling the forty feet to the water below him. 

“Roach!” Roach turned as well as he could, spotting Captain Price, the man sporting several scrapes himself, standing safely on the other side of the bridge. Roach couldn’t help but feel relieved that the man had at least made it safely across. 

“Captain, I-” Roach stopped suddenly, his grip sliding once again as the bridge above him shifted. He could hear several vehicles that had stopped above him and he was sure, despite the impossibility, that his heart picked up speed. 

He could see the way that Price’s face paled even from his hanging position. A horrified look came over the man's face but was quickly wiped away in favor of his usual mask of calm. Roach knew that it was more for his sake than Price’s. “Hold on, I’m going to come and get you!” 

He watched Price pull his weapon and begin moving toward the edge of the bridge. He was stopped and forced to take cover behind some of the rubble as gunfire began hitting around his feet. Roach realized at that moment how dangerous the situation he found himself in was, and how unlikely he was to come out of it alive.

Roach could hear Captain Price yelling for him as he returned fire, still trying to figure out how to get him out of the situation that he’d found himself in. There was a moment where Roach considered trying to pull himself up from the bridge again to at least give himself a chance of survival, but that moment disappeared when a shadow fell over him. Looking up, he was met with the barrel of a gun as one of Makarov’s men stared down at him. 

Roach had a split second to make a decision. Take a bullet and die, or take the drop and the slim chance of survival it brought. He didn’t really have to think about which to choose. 

Within a second, he let his grip go slack, falling back towards the river below pieces of debris following after.. Above him, he could hear Price screaming his name, but soon that faded away as the wind rushed by his ears, and only a moment later and he was plunging into the cold water of the river below.

Roach remembered all the lessons that he’d gotten from his father as a child. His father in this life had always been much kinder than his father in his first life, but there were certain things that Roach knew he wouldn’t have made it out of if it hadn’t been for his father in his first life. 

The man had been harsh and uncaring, but he’d taught Roach a lot. One such instance occurred when he was only eight. The man had woken him up at an ungodly hour of the morning and dragged him outside to his truck. He hadn’t been sure where his dad was taking him until they began pulling down a long dirt road. 

The road was one Roach had walked often as a child, especially during the summer. It was the path to a small swimming hole that people in his town used during the hotter parts of the year for a sort of quick day of fun. It was part of a larger connecting river that was underneath a busy bridge that connected to the highway, in a way, the rushing of the cars from the road above had always added to the charm of the small area. Typically when Roach went, it was by himself and during the summer. Now, he was with his father and it was closer to the middle of winter.

Living in the south meant that though there was no snow on the ground, the water was practically freezing. The water that day was particularly cold, in part because of the harsh wind that was blowing and the thunderstorm that had come through the previous day. 

“What are we doing,” Roach had asked hesitantly, eying the rapidly moving river as his father pulled to a stop in front of it. Naturally, it was only the two of them there, in the truck, in the middle of the woods. Roach wondered if his father planned to kill him. 

“Get out of the truck.” 

Roach did as he was told, hesitantly following his father down towards the bank of the river, the water was much higher than he was used to. “What are we doing,” he asked again. 

“Do you know what to do if you ever find yourself in a river like this?” Roach said nothing, “Answer me, boy.”

Roach recognized that tone, “No sir.”

“You wouldn’t,” his dad said, “Your mother and I spoil you too much for that.” Roach thought that wasn’t true, but he didn’t know enough to argue, or perhaps he already knew better than to do that. “If you get caught in a river like this, the first thing to do is get your head above water. You gotta stay calm otherwise you’ll panic and drown yourself. Repeat it.”

“Stay calm,” Roach muttered, “Get your head above water.”

“Good,” his dad motioned him closer to the river, Roach hesitantly obeyed. “Once you’ve done that, you need to pick your feet up. Do you know why?”

“To help you float?” Roach guessed. 

His father smacked the back of his head harshly, “To float? No. You keep your feet up so you don’t get caught on anything. If you get caught, you’re as good as gone.”

“Feet up so you don’t get caught on anything,” Roach repeated, already knowing that if he didn’t he’d likely get another smack. 

“Good. Now, you see the way the waters flowing boy?” He nodded, “Show me the direction.” Roach made a motion with his hands, the only way he knew how to show his father. “That's good. Once you’re in the river you’ll need to figure out the way the waters going and which side you want to come out on. Once you do that,” his father took his hands, moving them to make an angle, “You find this angle, right, with your head in the direction you want to go, and you start swimming against the current.” 

“Swim against the current?”

“If you do it right, the river will push you towards the side you want to go. You do that till you get to a shallow area or can get yourself out of the river.” His father stood back up then, crossing his arms and staring down at him. “Repeat everything back to me.”

“Stay calm, get your head above water. Get your feet up so you don’t get caught on anything. Figure out which way the water is flowing and what side you want out on. Find the angle,” Roach showed the angle with his hands, “And swim against the current until you reach shallow water or can get out of the river.”

His father nodded, “Good job. Do you think you could do it?” Roach responded with a hesitant nod, hoping that his father would take him home finally. “We’ll see.”

His father shoved him into the rushing river, Roach, still a child, was easily swept away by the current. He’d struggled for a moment, water entering his mouth and lungs as he tried to get his head above water. He felt panic rushing through his system and his arms moved wildly as he tried to right himself. It took him gaining a slight breath from being above water before he remembered his father's words. 

His head came up first, his body still fighting against the current that threatened to pull him under. His feet came up next and he tried desperately to find the way the water was running and which side he would need to get out on, his body was pulled under several times before his panicked mind finally pushed him to start swimming at the angle his father had showed him. 

He wasn’t sure how long it took, his mind so focused on survival that he didn’t even notice the beginnings of the rising sun. When he finally managed to grab onto a branch at the edge of the river and pull himself to shore, he’d lost both of his shoes and was far from where he and his father had been moments earlier. 

With the water already cold and the wind blowing harshly, Roach was shivering practically the moment that he was out of the water. He remembered the last time his father had done something similar to him, that time dumping him in the woods by himself, he’d been forced to follow the river to find his way back into town. With that instance in mind, he quickly started following the river, trying to keep himself warm as he walked. By the time he’d arrived back at the swimming hole, the sun was higher in the sky providing him with flashes of warmth. It still wasn’t enough to stop his shaking. 

His father had already left in his truck, likely gone back home. All Roach found where his truck had been was a thin blanket, a small thought from the man, but one that he didn’t question as he wrapped himself up tightly and started down the dirt road. He knew his way home from the river. 

Despite the blanket and the sun, by the time Roach had made it back to his small house, his lips were blue and his fingers were burning and stinging. Neither of his parents had been waiting for him when he arrived home, so he decided that he’d skip school that day and instead spent the entire day in his room, wrapped in every available blanket he could find. 

When Roach found himself still conscious but quickly swept away by the river, he was much calmer this time. He was no longer an eight-year-old who’d been shoved into a rushing river by his father. Now, he was a man with two lives under his belt and experience that made this almost a cake walk.

Pushing himself above water and lifting his feet was easy, swimming against the current was tiring, but also easy. It was pulling himself onto shore that proved to be difficult. His body lit up in pain as he pulled and he knew that with his gear being completely soaked through, he was likely also pulling close to an extra fifty or so pounds as well. He made the choice to abandon what gear he could into the river to make it easier for him to pull himself to shore. 

After taking several moments to catch his breath and cough up any water that had entered his lungs, he’d stood shakily to his feet to begin observing his surroundings. He realized from the surrounding area that he’d likely been swept miles from the bridge by the river. He knew that Price was likely already at the extraction zone and, with his injuries and distance from the area, he likely wasn’t going to make it in time. So that left him with a few options. 

He could head into the nearest town, but the area was crawling with Makarov’s men and the likelihood of him making it out alive with no weapon was relatively low. The other option was the safe house. 

Before each mission, the 141 were expected to go over any safe houses in the area they were being shipped out to. Most locations had at least one within thirty miles of the nearest town, and this one was no different. Though Roach wasn’t sure where he was, he did know what direction he’d been swept in and could make a decent guess on which way to go. 

He decided he would head in the direction of the nearby town, but rather than entering he would stay around the outskirts of the town and use it as a marker to guide his way to the safe house. It would be a long walk, and with his body aching and still bleeding and the cold air making him shiver, he knew he would have to be quick unless he wanted to find himself collapsing from hypothermia. If he didn’t make it to the safe house by nightfall, he wasn’t sure if he’d make it to the next morning.

The walk was something reminiscent of his childhood in his first life, reminding him sharply of the several times he’d been forced to walk home through the woods, whether to avoid bullies chasing him down or because one of his parents had dumped him somewhere to walk back as a “learning moment.”

It made him even more grateful for how amazing his parents in this life were. They would never have dreamed of doing something like that to him. Even now, when he hadn’t been home in nearly three years, his parents made all of the effort in the world to stay in touch with him and hear from him. They sent him carepackages and, whenever they could, would try to come out to base to see him around his birthday. If they couldn’t make it to base, you could bet he’d get an hour-long video call of his mother gushing over him followed by the largest care package he’d ever seen in his life the following week. 

His parents cared. He missed them. As he walked, dodging through the trees, he promised himself that he would make an effort to visit home when he got back from this mission. Distantly he remembered that his birthday was coming up and he wondered if that wouldn’t be the perfect time to drop in with a surprise visit to his parents.

He couldn’t worry about that now, instead he had to focus on forcing himself to move and trying to keep himself warm, though his soaked through clothes and the cold Russian air made it quite hard for him. 

By the time Roach made it back to the small town, the sun was setting in the distance. He could hear the commotion of sirens coming from the direction of the bridge, but he paid it no mind, instead following along the edge of the town until he reached his marker, a rather large catholic church. From the church, he turned east, walking away from the town and into the dark. He didn’t have anything to light his way, only using the moon to make sure that he was still following the right path. He wasn’t sure how long he walked after that, but as he continued and the night grew darker, he began to feel less and less sure of his ability to survive the night. 

By the time the safehouse came into his view, he was sure he was going to collapse from exhaustion, the cold, or a mix of both. 

Roach ignored the front door, remembering words about how it had been trapped for safety, and instead he stumbled around the building until he found a small hatch that would lead into the cellar. Pulling the doors open proved to be quite difficult with his fingers stiff and cold and his arm screaming in pain, but after a moment he managed to get it open. He carefully began down the steps into the dark and cold cellar and closed the door behind him, sliding in the lock from the inside. 

The inside of the house was pitch black, forcing Roach to follow allong the wall until he finally found the stairs up to the actual house. After stumbling around in the dark for several minutes, he finally managed to find a light switch and flip it on. The light was dim, and he knew he wouldn’t want to keep it on for long, but it allowed him to get his bearings. 

The house was small, with only one floor and the cellar. There was a small chimney in the living room. While enticing, Roach knew that for safety purposes he couldn’t use it. The kitchen was equally small, but opening the cabinets told him that it had been packed with a number of non-perishable foods and other necessities.

Roach stumbled fully into the living room then, noting the single couch and the lack of decoration everywhere else. He moved back into the tiny hallway that he’d emerged from the cellar into and checked the bathroom. Opening the cabinets in the room sent relief flooding to his system. Several different medical supplies were stashed in the cabinets. He grabbed what he would need to patch up his arm and the several areas of road rash he knew he had. 

From there he opened the small closet in the building, pulling out all of the blankets he saw as well as a few towels and washcloths to help him clean his face and wounds. The one thing that was missing was a communicator, though he was sure that it was likely somewhere in the kitchen. He still hadn’t checked all of the cabinets in the room. 

So, Roach stumbled back into the kitchen, setting his supplies down on the kitchen table and quickly ditching his still slightly damp shirt and jacket to assess his wounds. 

His arm that had been shot wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d expected, the bullet only cutting through the side of his arm rather than piercing the middle. Essentially, he’d only been grazed. His shoulder was another deal entirely. When he’d nearly fallen from the bridge and caught himself, his shoulder had rather unnaturally taken all of the weight of his body and his momentum. He’d then ignored its screaming pain to swim to shore from the river. Now that it had several hours with minimal movement, it burned any time he slightly moved it. His shoulder had swelled up as well, going an angry red color. He noted the boxiness of his shoulder as well as the small, but noticeable bump that had formed under the skin. He’d likely dislocated the thing during the fall. With a sigh, he then moved his attention to the road rash near his stomach and across his arms and hands. It wasn’t too terrible, at least not compared to what he’d seen before. The worst of it was his arm that hadn’t been shot, his forearm covered with dried blood and several small rocks embedded into it. He couldn’t see the full extent of the damage until he’d cleaned it, but he assumed that since he couldn’t see bone it was mostly fine.

He decided his safest bet would be to clean up his wounds as best as he could, then wrap them up. He wasn’t a doctor and he didn’t want to risk fucking himself up further than he already was, so it seemed like his safest bet. He’d let the professionals back on base deal with it once he’d returned. 

So, still freezing, he gathered warm water in the first bowl that he could, using one of the washcloths to gently wipe away the first layer of grime on all of his wounds. From there he moved in with a large amount of rubbing alcohol, hissing at both the sting of it on his wounds and the movement from his arm. It was slow going, any sudden movements taking the breath out of him. The slowest part was trying to get the gravel out of his various injuries, but he knew it was necessary. 

Once he’d finished that and left a bowl of bloody water, a pile of small pieces of gravel, and a stack of bloody wipes, he was finally able to wrap his wounds, his hands shaking slightly as he did so. He didn’t bother putting his shirt or jacket back on, deciding that it would be better to just wrap himself up in a blanket rather than put back on his freezing and still damp clothing. 

He ignored the mess he’d made on the table and set to work looking through the cabinets in the kitchen. While he didn’t find a communicator, he did find a code for a safe which sent him on a whole other hunt of looking behind pictures and carefully tapping on floorboards until he finally found the safe hidden behind a painting in the hallway. 

To his immense relief, the safe had both a communicator and a small pistol with ammo inside waiting. He took the pistol first, tucking it into his holster that had been empty since the river. He took the communicator then, sticking the plug in his ear before switching the comm over to the first secure channel he could find. He’d been told to use the first in case of emergencies. 

“Roach to Bravo 6, I repeat, Roach to Bravo 6. Price, Laswell, literally anyone, it’s Roach. Give me some sort of signal that you can hear me.” He paused waiting with bated breath before there was a crackle and he heard the concerned voice of Laswell on the line. 

“Roach? This is Lawell. Are you okay?”

Roach gave a sigh of relief before letting a small chuckle leave his lips, “I’m in one piece, I’m at the safehouse outside of town. Requesting immediate extraction.”

“We’ll get someone to you as soon as we can,” Laswell said, relief clear in her voice at hearing that Roach was okay, “Make sure you stay warm and keep the lights out as much as possible, I’ll radio and let you know when your extraction is getting close. You let me know if anything happens.”

“Copy,” Roach said moving into the kitchen to flick the light off and plunge himself back into darkness, “Laswell…did Price make it?”

“Price is okay, well mostly okay. He thinks you’re dead,” she paused for a second as though hesitating, “He’s blaming himself.

Roach shook his head, “It’s not his fault. Please go tell him and the rest of the team that I’m okay.”

“I should stay on the line.”

“Then take the line with you,” Roach said, “Or send someone to tell them. I’d hate for them to tell my parents I’m dead when I’m just fine.”

Laswell gave a chuckle at that, “Alright, sit tight. I’ll be back asap.”

“We’ve got to go find him,” Soap practically shouted. It was the third time he’d said it in the last ten minutes. He’d been pacing around the room since the moment Price shared the news with them. 

“He fell forty feet into a raging river,” Price said, his head in his hands. It was never easy to lose a soldier, and this was no different. He’d nearly collapsed when he’d made it onto the plane at the LZ, his entire body filled with grief at seeing Roach fall to his death. 

“He could have made it!” Soap insisted, “He got his name for a reason.”

Gaz had been trying to calm Soap down, his hands shaking as he tried to push down his emotions and stay strong for the team. Ghost hadn’t moved or said anything since he heard the news, his eyes watching straight ahead as he tried to process what Price had shared with the team. Roach? Dead? It didn’t seem right. 

“Soap, please sit down,” Gaz tried once again. 

“I can’t sit down!” Soap yelled, “How am I supposed to sit down, how am I supposed to be calm when Roach is somewhere in Russia probably hurt and freezing!” Soap slammed his hands down on the table, “We’ve got to do something.” 

“Laswell is connecting with Russian authorities,” Price said, “They’re going to watch the river and see if a body turns up.”

“There won’t be a body!” Soap insisted, “Roach isn’t dead. Stop saying he’s dead!” Soap looked wildly between the three people in the room, each of them avoiding his gaze before finally, he collapsed back into his seat, his hands coming to cover his face. 

The room was quiet for a moment, each of the members of the 141 trying to handle their emotions without sending the others into a spiral. It was like if any of them said anything, if any of them showed their grief, it would be that much more real. 

The door to the room was slammed open a few minutes after the silence had begun, Laswell looking around the room at the men who’d been brought to their knees at the believed death of their friend. She didn’t bother with a lead-up, instead proclaiming, “Roach is alive. He just got in contact with me from the safe house, the extraction team is getting ready to go retrieve him.” 

Chaos erupted in the room.

“Roach?” 

Roach jerked slightly from where his head had begun tilting to the side, sleep trying to take over his senses. He let out a grunt as he pushed himself back up from where he’d slumped over. “Laswell,” he responded, his voice groggy.

Laswell let out another sigh of relief, she’d done that nearly every time she checked in on him, as though she was still surprised to hear that he was alive. “The extraction team should be landing within the next ten minutes.”

“Good to hear,” Roach said with a yawn, “I need a burger and a twenty-four hour nap.”

Laswell chuckled, “I’ll make sure you get it.”

Roach could hear the noises of his extraction outside so he forced himself up from the floor, still wrapped in a blanket, and headed down the hall and back into the cellar. He made sure to peek out of the cellar first, waiting for the plane to fully land before unlocking it and making his way out of the building. A sense of relief overtook him as he stumbled towards the plane, the back of it slowly coming down to welcome him. 

As soon as the back of the plane was fully down, Roach, carefully making his way towards it, was rushed by the entirety of the 141, surprise taking him over as Soap wrapped him up in a bear hug. To his surprise Ghost joined the hug a moment later. He was sure his entire face was red, but he was willing to ignore that and the pain in his body to enjoy the body heat from the two for a moment. 

Finally, though, his pain caught up with him, “Guys, I’m excited to see you too and we can definitely return to this hug later, but my arm is on fire.”

Soap and Ghost were quick to move off of him after, each taking to one side of him and walking carefully with him. They were almost like bodyguards in the way they were hovering over him. 

Gaz and Price had also come with the extraction team, though they were waiting far more patiently at the plane, both with their weapons ready as though expecting an attack. It was only when Roach got closer that they moved forward, Gaz pulling Roach into a short but obviously meaningful hug and Price tugging roach forward to delicately wrap his arms around him. The hug lasted only a second but was followed by a quick and affectionate hair ruffle from Price before the entire squad was moving into the plane. 

Roach gave a sigh of relief as he sat down and strapped into the plane. He tightened the blanket around him tighter, all the while noting the way the 141 seemed to sit around him as though they were his bodyguards, all on edge. “Guys, you can calm down. I’m alive and aside from maybe a dislocated shoulder and some road rash, I’m completely fine.” 

“We’ll see what the medics say,” Came the response from Gaz, the man giving Roach a brief flash of a smile. 

Roach let out a huff of annoyance, though, rather than annoyance he only felt fondness.

Prev: Part 5

Next: Part 7 - Coming Soon

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2023-03-06

Gamers only play competitive first person shooters when they're extremely distressed

Listening: It was BandCamp Friday this week, so new music! Already posted my album list here so I won't dump it again

For a single song, here's Machine by Dangerfields

Watching: this bizzare 3D anime a media archival guy on YouTube has. I watched it on my phone in stereoscopic crosseyevision which worked surprisingly well but I did have to take a few breaks. The original format used the interlaced lines of SDTV to display left and right, synchronized by active-shutter glasses.

It's about some journalists following up on a terrorist plot or something, there's a lot going on, one of them is a. Robot? Maybe? It's a bit hard to keep on top of the subtitles because they are not in 3D so they appear twice below the image when you're cross-eyed, I think I still have like 10 minutes to go. Fun exercise. It was uploaded in a 3D format so you can just watch it normally or use a VR headset to view it. I lost my Google cardboard thing, so.

Reading: Re-read 17776 and 20020, it's been a moment. 20020 is incredible, 17776 was already good but it had to spend so long setting the scene that it couldn't do as much storytelling. Unbidden my comparison to this came as "Avatar S2 Vs S3"

Man I hope 20021 gets out soon. Great how it can get you so deeply invested in this multi-millennium fake football game. The introduction of the Illinois Chess bit to show that everyone has gone equally crazy about their interests over the past 18000 years is a nice touch.

Playing: Knocking out a couple matches of Valorant swiftplay most nights after the power comes back. The first to 5 is so much faster than first to 13, makes it possible for someone like me to actually enjoy the game when I don't have friends to banter with so I can level up at an acceptable speed. Trying to get Neon because nyoom.

Between everyone having power outages at different times it's nearly impossible to arrange proper matches with my friends, which sucks. I recently found out that they changed how aim rollback works to basically exclude my entire region from rollback netcode so I guess I have to start leading my shots.

Making: Quilt continues apace, now with actual quilting and not just patchwork. This is most of what I'm doing between finishing work and like, seven in the evening these days.

My cousin bought a very fast new car a few days ago and I spent the afternoon photographing it on a rooftop parking lot the other day. Haven't had a chance to go through and do full processing but here's a couple sample images.

Tools and Equipment: Had to spend an hour scouring the house looking for my parents passports so here's a pitch for getting a waterproof bag and keeping all your important personal documents in it and putting that in your bug out pack and putting that in the same place all the time. This avoids many issues.

[anmarifromearth]

Chapter 16: Richard Would Be Proud

Note: You can read the finished version on Quotev, but for Tumblr, I'd like to upload the chapters one by one.

WC: 2.5 K -- Masterlist -- featuring art by @amalthiaph

Zach and I got off the next station. The sun had set, the sky was dark, and my left shoulder was still wet from hours of tears from Zach.

Other than all that, my head was pounding hard from the concussion from when he slammed me on the wall. I also tried my best to not fall asleep on the train as that’d be dangerous given the state of my head. It wasn’t that hard though when someone was sobbing loudly on my shoulders. I let him be. His parents just left him, and well, disowned him. Anyone in any age would cry. I guess it’s not an overstatement to say we’re both far from being okay.

Passengers from left and right eye the two of us. I paid them no mind as I check my phone for any messages from the others. I had texted Sara to inform them of our location. She replied that Mr. Monet had agreed to pick us up. I am now waiting for Mr. Monet’s response about his location. I don’t think I can hold any much longer.

Zach was the only thing supporting me as I stand, tapping my feet and looking to my phone and up, waiting for the cab driver to arrive. After what seemed to be ten minutes of standing and trying to stay awake, I finally saw the familiar car turn a corner and pull over to where we’re standing. The door flung open before it even comes to a stop.

Mr. Monet peeked through the window, his smile dissolving away as he saw the black haired boy beside me.

“It’s okay,” I quickly told him, and nudged Zach to signal him to assist me to the cab.

He quickly understood the action and put one of my arms over his head and the other under my knees, and carried me inside. He shyly sat beside me.

As soon as we’re both settled in our seats, Mr. Monet started to speak. “I’ll take you to the hospital Charles is in,” he said.

Zach immediately looked up at the mention of Charles’ name. I saw Mr. Monet look at him through the mirror. Zach opened his mouth to speak, but I placed a hand on his cheek. I gave him a reassuring glance. He lightly touched my hand and lowered it, gently tightening his grip.

We stayed like this, silent yet the atmosphere is full of words, for about a few minutes, until I feel my whole world start to turn dark.

I opened my eyes and was welcomed with bright white light. I heard a faint mixture of sounds; some beeping, some footsteps, and some conversations. It took a lot of effort to fully open my eyes. I saw a black boy lying on a bed, a wrap on his shoulder, and fluids attached to him. It was Charles. He was asleep. I weakly pulled myself up to sit. I felt the rise and fall of my chest as I took a deep breath. I felt something on my head, I reached up to touch it lightly.

“Don’t touch it,” Zach said, brushing his eyes from presumably sleep. “They fixed your cut. Luckily, you didn’t need stitches. I could never forgive myself if you did.” He said that with drooped shoulders and bowed head. He shyly went to my side and sat down, once again lying his head on my shoulder, recreating our position when we were in the train.

I watched as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I beat you up,” he said as he started to sob lightly. He looked up at me, to my lips, where there was a small cut. He reached up to touch it, probably remembering when he punched me there, twice. “I could never raise my hands on you like that again, ever.”

I smiled faintly. “I’m sorry I kicked your eye,” it was my turn to lightly touch the purplish area under his eye.

He slightly laughed, “I deserve that.” He took a deep breath as his eyes travelled to our other friend on the hospital bed, “It’s not even enough to compensate for what I’d caused him.”

“Zach,” I began, “You only did that because your parents wanted you to do that. You were like a puppet to them.” I put his right hand, brought it to my lips, and placed a kiss on it, “You would never do such thing if it were just up to you.”

He smiled. This time, there’s more joy to it. He removed his hand from my grip and reached inside his blazer, searching for something. He frowned as he began to search the other side. His face lightened as he touched something. He must’ve found it. Slowly, he pulled it out and showed it to me.

It was a small zip-lock bag with an old polaroid inside. It was that same polaroid he gave me that I dropped on the garden of Velvet Manor in 1845. It was that same polaroid that Eldric’s son showed the Velvets as proof that time travel is possible.

“I know Charlotte has told you that my parents groomed me for Wessman,” he began. “It was because it’s at my time that ‘Christina’ travelled to the future. All my life,” he glanced at me, “I had been shown this photograph to tell me who I’d be looking for in Wessman so I can memorize her face.” He chuckled lightly as he looked at the polaroid, “I stared at it so much, I stared at the face so much that I started to fall for it. For you.” He looked me, and smiled.

He looked up at the ceiling as he continued, “When we met at Wessman on the first day, remember it was me who first spoke to you?” He glanced at me and I nodded in agreement. “I’ve been watching students who arrived at school, searching for this face.” He held up the polaroid, “And I finally found you. You were so much prettier in real life than in pictures.”

The moment was broken by the sound of the door swinging open. Mr. Philipps walked in, with some bags on his hands. I assume he had gone out to get supplies and food. Sara walked in afterwards, a bag on her hand. The last one in was Miss Mansfield. Her blonde hair is a lot less messy than earlier. She closed the door behind her.

Sounds of bags getting laid down on wooden desks and keys jangling as they were put in pockets fill the room. Mr. Philipps glanced at his still sleeping grandson, until he finally switched his gaze at the black haired boy beside me.

Zach shifted in his seat, straightening himself up. I can tell he isn’t comfortable with the stare. Who would be?

Mr. Philipps started to speak, “What are you doing here?” I don’t need to think to know it’s definitely directed at Zach.

“I—I was,” Zach struggled to speak, “My parents left me. They disowned me like that.”

Mr. Philipps raised his eyebrows, in a concerned way, “What do you mean? Where’s the hour hand?” He started to walk slowly towards where we’re sitting. I saw Miss Mansfield give Zach the same look. I can bet Sara is concerned too.

“It’s gone,” I said.

“I threw it out the window,” Zach began, “Into the unknown. Never to be found again.”  

Mr. Philipps laughed. I can’t help but to laugh too. Zach started to chuckle as well. Miss Mansfield and Sara finally joined in. The room was filled with joy.

This seemed to have disturbed Charles’ sleep, as we suddenly heard him speak. “What’s going on?” he weakly said.

Our joyous segment came to a halt, and Mr. Philipps quickly ran to his grandchild’s side. “How are you feeling?” he began.

“I’m okay,” Charles answered as Zach stood up from his seat, to slowly walk to Charles’ side.

Mr. Philipps stood up, to let Zach come to Charles’ side. Charles was scared, I can see. Zach seemed to have sensed this too, as he struggled to speak when he opened his mouth. “I’m—I am,” Zach stuttered, “I am so sorry, Charles.” He started to break down in tears.

Charles held out his arms to give him a hug. He patted Zach’s back as he lightly sobbed on him. The moment was so beautiful. No words had to be said. Zach cried his eyes out and Charles held him tight as he did so.

“You two,” Zach finally spoke as he looked up to me, “Are the two best things to have ever happened in my entire life, and I can NEVER ever erase you.”

I saw Mr. Philipps, Sara and Miss Mansfield smile.

“Where’s the hour hand?” Charles asked.

“I threw it out the train window,” Zach answered.

“What?” Charles said in disbelief. “What did your parents do about it?”

Zach took a deep breath. He looked at each one of us, one by one, and back to Charles, before finally answering, “They disowned me.”

Charles eyes widened. Sara opened her mouth in shock. Mr. Philipps and Miss Mansfield started to walk forward.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Philipps asked.

Zach looked up at him, “It means I am now homeless. I have nowhere to go.”

Mr. Philipps took a step back and started to pull out his stopwatch. He clicked it open and close. He usually does this when he’s thinking of something. He opened his mouth to speak, and hesitated. He clicked the stopwatch for a few more seconds, until he finally spoke, “I could take you in.”

Zach opened his mouth to protest but Mr. Philipps quickly cut him off, “Well, do you have anywhere else to go?”

“Well, no,” Zach answered truthfully.

Mr. Philipps spread his arms out, “The best part is, you get to continue your schooling at Wessman.”

Charles groaned. Loudly. Mr. Philipps glanced at his grandchild, who was still groaning loudly.

“Why don’t you just let dad adopt him instead?” he began as he looked up his grandfather.

Mr. Philipps simply raised his eyebrows on him.

“I don’t want to call him ‘Uncle Zach’,” Charles answered.

The room burst out in laughter. It’s been a while since we all laughed a wholesome one.

“It would be a blast if you were to be my brother,” Zach told Charles. “I’ve always wanted a sibling.”

“But,” Mr. Philipps cut in, “I am the one to adopt you so you have no choice but to accept the fact that you have a nephew instead.”

“Richard Velvet would be proud,” Miss Mansfield suddenly said from across the room. The five of us immediately turned our heads to her sudden statement.

“What?” Mr. Philipps said.

Miss Mansfield smiled, “You adopting Zach would mean Marion’s blood and Eldric’s blood would once again be united. One hundred and seventy-four years later. Richard would be proud.”

Perhaps this is why Zach loves to take candid pictures of people; he wanted to preserve a moment. I’d love to preserve this moment; the five of us smiling at each other with no words exchanged.

“The hour hand is gone,” I began, riding the moment, “And the Velvets and the Mortimers are once again united. It’s over.” I smiled as I looked up at them.

However, I wasn’t met with the same gesture. They were all looking at me, with shocked faces. I frowned.

“Iris,” Zach began, his voice trembling in fear, “You are disappearing.”

I gasped and quickly looked down. He was right. Unlike when I travel in time when I turn into smoke, this was different. I was disappearing. Parts of my body very slowly became invisible. It’s like I am being erased. I looked up at Mr. Philipps and Miss Mansfield with worried eyes, “What’s causing this?”

Mr. Philipps answered, “It means that it isn’t over yet. There is one more loose end in the past. You need to close the loop!”

Zach ran to my side to hold me up. “How will she do that?” he looked at Mr. Philipps, “The hour hand is gone. We have no catalyst.”

Mr. Philipps clicked his stopwatch open and close again, thinking, “Is there any moment were you were able to time travel without the help of the pieces of the hour hand?”

I thought far back, there was one time. “The first day of school,” I began. Zach tightened his grip on me, remembering that time, and nodded. “Zach and I were supposed to be headed to the assembly when we arrived at a deserted White Room.”

“And there was that maid story,” Charles cut in, “That tells of two people walking in the White Room. You were the ones the maid saw. What happened then was that you two travelled to the past.”

“Exactly!” I said.

“So that means,” Mr. Philipps closed his stopwatch, “There is something in the White Room, anything, that’s part of the hour hand. You may have missed it. You need to go back there quickly, and try to travel back.”

“What could it be?” I glanced at Miss Mansfield. She’s the librarian, she probably knows a lot more about the hour hand than we do.

“I-I thi-,” she stuttered as he shook her head, “I don’t know. The hour hand that you had looks the same as in every photograph and painting—like in the ceiling.”

“There is another piece that we don’t know of,” Mr. Philipps began. “You need to travel to the time before they start to hide the pieces and see what it was and where in the White Room they hid it at.”

As soon as Mr. Philipps finished speaking, Zach and I had bolted to the door. We treaded the hospital halls at a fast speed, trying our best not to hit anything. Once out, Zach raised his hand to call for a cab. Luckily, there were three waiting outside the hospital. We jumped inside and told him of our destination, and told him to step on it fast, as I can see my entire left arm erased. The cab driver widened his eyes at the sight. We tried to pay him no mind.

It’s a good thing the cab driver is obedient. We were at Wessman in just about five minutes. Zach handed him cash, not caring how much it was. We dashed out of the cab and into the main hall, making a few turns until finally, we reached the gigantic doors to the main hall.

I looked down. My right hand was starting to disappear. Zach nodded and opened the doors for me.

I took a deep breath as I walked in the White Room. I was met with cold wind and darkness. I closed my eyes and felt the rise and fall of my chest as I crossed my fingers, wishing I’d be able to travel back.

I saw the darkness start to dissolve away. The cold air was gradually replaced with the warm air from the many torches and chandeliers lit up. I can tell I am now in 1845.

[suuooe]

anger | suo hayato x gn!reader

✧ hurt/comfort, mostly fluff. established relationship or situationship or very close friends? ya'll be the judge of that.

a/n: hi. hello wind breaker fandom. a week ago when i was on these tags like a daily routine it was a desert, now when i decide to upload things myself it's suddenly an oasis.

this is brainrot. suo hayato has been in my brain for 2 weeks plz send help. it's close to 12 am when i publish this, so this is something me in a few hours have to deal with but i hope ya'll enjoy <3

"… Hayato?"

Suo hums in response to your call of his name, although he doesn't turn around to face you - instead focusing his attention to the different type of tea sets on your cupboard to pick out the set he wants to use for the occasion.

You falter a tiny bit, on the outside it doesn't seem like anything was amiss. He came over the usual time, greeted your grandparents and handed them fresh baked goods he had gotten when he passed through the town. He had greeted you like normal, given you a quick hug before taking the tray of various teacakes you had prepared for the day to head to your room first. It was a normal day, the same routine and almost the same smile he's given you each day.

And yet, you can't get over this gnawing feeling that he seemed a bit more…

"… Are you angry at something?" you decide to ask in the end.

His movements halt, the kettle in his hands were halfway bent downwards to pour out the tea you had brewed for the day. His visible eye blinks once, twice and a third time before he places the kettle down back on your table and leans back to sit on the floor. And for the first time you had entered your bedroom, his attention is now on you, head cocked slightly to the side in mild confusion. "What makes you ask that?"

You divert your gaze away from his own, scooting yourself a bit closer to the middle of your bed while letting out a sigh.

"… Sakura-san came over yesterday evening, you see." even though your eyes were focused on your hands, you could still see the slight tensing of Suo's body before you. "He wasn't worried, in his words at least. But he did tell me how you behaved a bit differently when you fought this group the same day he came over… Keel was it? I- I didn't know that such a big fight had happened."

The smile had long dropped off of Suo's lips.

You could feel the tension rising in the room, your next sentence coming out a bit more meek than you had intended, "How he had to stop you from doing more damage to your own opponent since you had clearly knocked him out. A-and Nirei-kun had texted me right after too, telling me how you were worried about him after the fight. Judging from how he just told me to ask if you're okay, I'm assuming he wasn't there at the scene, but-"

"… What are you implying, [Name]?" While his tone is light, you notice that's there's a hint of irritation laced within the question, at you or at his classmates for telling about what had transpired the day before - you don't know.

"Nothing! I'm not trying to make you do or say anything! I… I guess I just wanted to see if you were…" you take a deep breath and raise your head up to face Suo head on, only to jump when you find the boy already right in front of you, bent slightly to keep eye contact with you, "… okay." you breathe out in the end, the close proximity making you whisper out the last word.

While he's not smiling, you can tell that Suo's eye is still gentle, indicating that he wasn't particularly mad. Not anymore at least. Blinking slightly, you raise your hand to cup his visible left eye, your thumb rubbing his cheek, "At least you're not hurt." you murmur, Suo letting out a chuckle while closing his eyes, deciding to not answer and instead nuzzle into the palm of your hand.

A few seconds pass before Suo opens his mouth.

"I admit, it wasn't my most honourable moments, losing my cool like that." Ah, so he was indeed enraged during that fight. The hands that were once again clasped behind his back unfurl themselves to instead gently place themselves on each side of your body, in a way trapping you between the wall behind you and Suo's frame. He lets out a deep sigh before resting his forehead against your shoulder. "It's also why I wanted to drop by so early in the morning. Just to get out the residual anger in me, but I'm fine." he whispers, leaning a tiny bit up to give your cheek a peck - a small chuckle leaving his lips at how you immediately tense up.

"So you're doing fine now?" you ask again, raising your arms up to wrap around Suo's shoulders. The brown haired boy only shifting slightly to lean most of right head on your shoulder, the small breaths he lets out hitting the exposed skin on your neck, making you shiver.

"Yeah." he starts, closing his visible eye as he takes in the gentle aroma of steeped tea in the room mixed in with your own scent, "I'm fine now."

[madelineariah]

2023/April 14th - Creative

I have been a bit exhausted the last few days.

My sleep schedule got kinda messed up, though this is not entirely out of character for me when I get fixated on a new idea. I decided about a week or two ago that I would try to revitalize my interest in video production. I probably should preface this by saying that I tried running a YouTube channel back in 2020. Probably not the best time to get into it, but it was what it was.

When I did it, I was narrating some of the novels that I have written over the years. Writing is my passion, yet it’s not a compatible medium with many of the passions and interests of most people these days. People want interactive media – it’s why they turn to visual novels or YouTube videos or games to get their reading in.

The videos I made honestly never really felt like they were at their fullest potential. It felt like I didn’t have the proper tools to bring my words to life, and I became very frustrated by the outcome. While I reached 60 subscribers during that time period, I eventually became so bothered by the quality of my own content that I deleted all of it from existence and put the channel on hiatus.

Recently, though, I have had a change of direction in my life. I decided that because racing videogames have been a lifelong hobby of mine, I would like to do highlight videos surrounding my favorite racing games. As such, I’ve spent the last several days prepping videos for a May 1st debut. I have about seven completed already.

What I’ve noticed so far is that because I have better equipment now, that alone has given me more confidence in my abilities. In 2020, I was video editing on a Chromebook (which many of you might not think possible, but I assure you, it is). The videos were serviceable, but they lacked the kind of professional quality that I wanted of them.

Now, though, I have an enterprise-level Windows desktop with an enterprise-level GPU that I was using for CAD applications during my last round of college (see my post about going to college three damn times).

Since my drafting stuff is currently on hiatus, I figure that I should probably get my money’s worth from the machine, and it turns out that it can encode a 10 minute 720p video in about 45 seconds. Not bad. As far as the games, I am recording them on an Xbox One X which I have calibrated to record in 720p because Xbox DVR requires your clips be processed over the cloud, and my internet – while good in terms of download speed – is terrible at upload speed.

I learned recently that Xbox DVR files corrupt very easily. Audio sync issues are also very common. So… Not the best start.

Nonetheless, I do feel like the way I have things set up lends itself to my style of video production. What I’m doing is recording individual races and events in-game and then creating highlight reels from them. Some of these highlight videos have a story to them, even.

The audio sync is easy enough to fix using the video editing software. That said, I have lost a handful of good clips due to file corruption – which led to much sulking.

To prevent myself from going insane, I’m probably only gonna upload twice a week – Monday and Thursday. This gives me 2-3 days between videos to work on each one. So far, I’ve noticed it takes approximately 90 minutes to encode enough clips for a 10 minute video, and then editing takes two to four hours depending on storyboarding, effects used, and also needing to create the thumbnails for each video.

And of course, my videos are going to have overlays that show my channel name and eventually things like a Twitter link, Ko-Fi link, etc. If I ever decide to stream, those same overlays could be used to show stream-related info (I think that’s how it works). But getting that sophisticated is gonna take time, I guess.

For the first month, I figure I will use a compact overlay (just a banner, really). Then after, I will make a full-screen overlay in 1080p with the 720p gameplay footage in windowed mode. That’s the plan, anyway. There’s still so much I need to figure out, and I am doing all of this myself.

I would say that my goal is simply to attract people who love the same things I love and who I can share memories with. Like, as a gamer, I often play alone. I don’t really have “gaming friends.” I’d like that to change.

[vampiressux]

jumping on the bandwagon

[l0serloki]

ever so pampered chamber with a reader that doesn't take care of herself?

Chamber x Reader

WC : 710

Summary : You’re too caught up in other things to take care of yourself. Good thing Chamber is here to save the day.

CW : self doubt, self neglect, passing out

A/N : i swear to god I’m getting pissed off,, I’ve tried to upload this twice and tumblr said fuck you. Anyways, I loved the idea and had two ideas for it. Maybe in the future I’ll write the other. Thank you for the request!!

You loved Chamber. He was what kept you looking forward to the future. To say you spoiled him was an understatement - you would do anything he asked. He was always setting his head down in your lap asking for head pats or rubs on his back. You pampered the man with massages and kisses, even making him dinner sometimes! You didn’t want him to have to worry much about you with the stress he went through at work.

You hadn’t really noticed the lack of sleep, food, or really care you were giving yourself. Busy with working on projects with KJ during the day and getting your most out of your time with Chamber, it was your least priority. That was until you had passed out.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” KJ’s voice floated around your head, your eyes unable to open. That was the last thing you remember before waking up.

“Y/N! You’re awake!” You turned to face Sage, eyes groggy with sleep. “Why am I here?” You questioned the woman and she hummed.

“You are not taking care of yourself, that is why. You passed out in KJ’s lab and have been asleep for the past 12 hours. It’s about 10 am now - you should go home. Chamber was really worried about you but I kicked him out. I also talked to Brim for you two to have the week off, don’t let it happen again Y/N.”

You weren’t surprised but it was a bit embarrassing that it hadn’t gotten to this point. You thanked Sage before walking out to make your way back to your apartment.

Unlocking the door, you walked into your shared apartment. You were met with the sound of Chamber’s classical music filling the air.

“Oh mon cœur, you’re finally home.” Chamber had ran towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “I was so worried about you. I talked with Sage. You should’ve told me you were stressed! I’m sorry I didn’t even notice sooner..” His voice trailed off, arms rubbing circles in your back. You kissed at the flesh of his neck, glad to be in his warmth.

You felt like crying. You hadn’t wanted him to worry about you but yet here you were, stuck in this predicament. Could you not even do simple tasks right?

“To be honest, I didn’t even notice it much myself. I just really wasn’t focused. No reason to feel bad - I just need to be more on top of it.” Your voice wavered, tears threatening to fall.

“My love, there is no need to cry or feel bad. I would be in the same boat if it weren’t for you. You always spoil me and keep me on schedule.” His warm hands wiped at your cheeks, delicate lips smothering you in kisses.

After standing in each others embrace for a few minutes, Chamber spoke up. “Well I will be watching out for you more. You mean a lot to me and I want to pamper you. I should’ve been doing this more often anyways. I love you.”

“I love you too, Vin.” You could feel yourself coo at his words, honored that he cared so much.

“On another note, I made dinner for us. Come and have a look.” Vincent shuffled you along to the kitchen, the table set up even with candles and wine glasses.

“Well doesn’t this look lovely..” You pecked his cheek as you sat down, getting comfortable. “I sure hope so. I tried my best with it!”

The two of you talked about past dreams and random mishaps in life, downing a bottle of wine in the process.

“I wasn’t trying to get you drunk mon amour, I just wanted a nice little date night.” He cheekily picked you up bridal style, carrying you into the bedroom. “Yeah well it’s my week off mister, I’ll drink if I want to.” You booped his nose as his hands slid the sheets over you. “I suppose you are right, rest easy ma belle. We have a good week ahead of us.” The two of you met in a heated kiss before he pulled away. You could only smile - you did have a good week ahead of you.

[cambria-writes]

I haven’t been writing for over two years and I’ve been spending the most of the past 72 hours working on this and like two other fics so like. Please be nice. Also I only proofread this like, maybe twice, so if there are still any mistakes or typos, please let me know! I’m almost done with the next chapter, so if we’re all lucky I’ll be able to post it next week. I figure that a weekly upload schedule should probably be feasible for me. Guess we’ll see! pairing: eddie munsonx reader rating: PG13 for now, each chapter rated individually warnings: there will be hella spoilers for S4, lots of swearing, guns, minor injury and blood, drugs (just weed my dudes), alcohol, reader deserves her own warning actually, use of canadian english is also its own warning word count: 3,323

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖊: ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

March 20th, 1986

It’s annoying, having to wait like this.

Your leg is bouncing under the table and you can’t help but absently pick at the table’s flaking paint. You’d est up to meet after you were off work, which more or less coincided with when he got out of class. Which was apparently a bit earlier than you’d anticipated; you’ve been killing time at this stupid picnic table in the woods for almost half an hour now.

You’re about to cut your losses and prepare an apology call when something catches your eye, further off in the woods. It’s not like it’s eerily quiet; if you pay attention, you can hear squirrel scrambling up trees and birds flying around. But there’s something about that vague almost-shape you saw in the woods... You feel the hairs at the back of your neck rise. That’s probably a bad sign, right? You should probably leave. I should definitely leave.

“Sorry for keeping you wai–”

You shriek and clean fall off the bench with how fast you turn around.

“Fucking shit Ed! God damn warn a girl, holy shit!” You scream, catching your breath and brushing leaves off of you when you stand. “You scared the living hell out of me!”

Eddie raises his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps back. “Woah there, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

The genuine concern makes you groan and you drop yourself back onto the bench you’d fallen from. When asked, you were going to lie and say your shifts are work were just getting a bit aggravating, but it was a bit harder to justify being that jumpy.

“Dude, I don’t know. I’ve just been having these nightmares for a while and it’s been freaking me out,” you explain, putting your arms up on the table and resting your head on them. “I’ve been getting shit for sleep and it’s like I’m seeing things.”

“I’m pretty sure drugs are gonna make that worse, not better,” Eddie says slowly, leaning forward on the table after placing his box down. “You wanna, like... talk about it?”

You scoff and turn your head away. There was no way you were going to try and even begin to describe the fucked up shit that’s been playing in Technicolor in your brain the past few weeks. Nevermind the stuff you’re pretty sure was a dream but aren’t entirely convinced about.

Like that time you spotted Harrington and fucking Robin Buckley, of all people, in a movie theater together. Looking and acting absolutely blitzed out. That has to have been some kind of hallucination, because as soon as the movie was over you couldn’t see them anywhere.

Or that time a few years ago when Will Byers went missing and those kids–his friends, probably?–took to the streets like a band of thieves, looking for all the world like they were heading straight for the lab. No one else ever mentioned them or even gave any indication they’d seen a group of prepubescent boys taking up a whole street with their bikes and an ungodly time of night. So you just kind of assume you’d... dreamt it up, or something.

You’ve had weirder dreams.

“I appreciate the offer to be my impromptu therapist, Munson, but I think it’d just make me feel worse,” you eventually answer, sitting back up and running your hands down your face. “I just need whatever you’ve got that can knock me out. Shit you gave me last time barely got me to sleep like, an hour.”

Eddie audibly winces and crosses his arm.

“I hate to say it, but you might be better off with beer.”

You groan theatrically and let your head slam back down on the table. Slam it a few more times for good measure. Eddie hastily shoves his hand under your forehead.

“Hey there, woah, woah! Knock that out!”

“You’re shitting me right? I can’t do this anymore, Ed, I feel like I’ve actively gone insane,” you whine, bringing your hands up to the back of your neck. “You’re my best bet, no way I can see a doctor for this. I’ll get locked up or worse.”

There’s silence for a bit, before you hear the closure for Eddie’s box pop open. You sigh in relief and raise your head, pulling the hair out of your face. He’s not taking anything out, though; he’s putting something back in before closing the box again.

“Wait no, come on–” you start, but Eddie interrupts you with a hand help up.

“Ah, give me a second, I’m getting there,” he says, shoving his other hand in the inner pocket of his leather jacket. The small bag of weed he pulls out looks thoroughly and profoundly unremarkable.

“Dude I literally just said–”

“Have you always been this impatient, woman? Relax, this is from my,” Eddie pauses to clear his throat and leans forward with a grin. “Personal stash. Should be strong enough for you.”

“Are you saying you’ve been selling me baby’s first drugs until now?” You ask, crossing your arms. Eddie places a hand to his chest in mock offense and scoffs.

“I’m shocked and offended you would ever think so lowly of me. I thought we were cool!” You can’t help but at least chuckle at that and put your hands up in defeat.

“No, you’re totally right, my bad. I know you would only provide me with the finest wares. I had a moment of weakness, beg your forgiveness.”

Content with your playing along and the accompanying apology, Eddie pulls out a grinder from the box, rolling papers from a back pocket and gets to rolling. When he doesn’t immediately make a move to start a conversation, you decide to drown out the buzzing in your head yourself.

“How’s the Hellfire campaign going? Aren’t you having the party come up against a lich?” Eddie smirks and nods.

“Yeah, Vecna. They still have no idea though, they all still think he’s just a myth. I can’t wait to see their stupid faces when I tell ‘em he’s still alive when I tell them.”

“They’ll riot, I hope you know,” you laugh lightly, putting your chin in your hand on the table. You’d only sat in on one or two sessions, back when Eddie had been the youngest member of Hellfire. But if the theatrics and hysterics of those sessions were anything to go by, these guys got very emotionally attached to their games and characters.

“They can riot all they want, they’re gonna have to let the dice to the talking for them,” Eddie says, carefully rolling the ground bud into its paper. You open your mouth to say something, but stop yourself when you hear it.

The distant but unmistakable sound of a grandfather clock chiming.

“Ed,” you first say, apparently too quietly for him to hear. “Eddie. Hey, Munson,” you say, faster, tapping your hand on the table to catch his attention. Your eyes, meanwhile, are scanning the pathway you’d both come down for any movement. “Tell me you heard that.”

Eddie freezes and slowly brings his hands down to the table. When he doesn’t move or say anything, you turn back to him. His expression is... upsetting

“Dude no, don’t look at me like that,” you plead, leg bouncing under the table again.

“Depends what you heard,” he replies slowly, bringing the joint back up to his lips so he can seal it.

“I-I don’t know, like the chime of a grandfather clock? That thing they do every hour?”

Eddie shakes his head as he twists the end of the joint before putting it down on the table between you.

“I’m gonna be real with you, I don’t think this is gonna help you. You’re kind of starting to freak me out a bit, and that’s saying something.” Even the attempt at humour can’t really take the edge in his voice you refuse to acknowledge is a hint of fear.

“I’ll take my chances,” you mutter, reaching for the rolled joint with one hand and pulling a zippo lighter from your jacket pocket with the other. Thanks to Eddie’s rolling, it doesn’t take long to light up, and you can take your first actual drag almost right away. Your head already feels clearer by the time you take your second hit.

“Jesus slow down, you’re gonna suffocate,” Eddie cautions, reaching a hand out but not quite reaching you.

“If it knocks me out it knocks me out my guy,” you reply smoothly, blowing the smoke in his direction. You take a third, smaller hit before passing the joint over.

You can’t tell if it’s the weed that made it stop or if it stopped all on its own, but you’re relieved to find you can’t hear the stupid clock chiming anymore.

“...look,” you start, absently picking at the threads of a hole in your pants. “It’s not because I don’t trust you–”

“Hey, no, I get it,” Eddie says, cutting you off, passing you the joint back after a second hit. “No one wants to confide in the town freak, totally–”

It’s your turn to cut him off when you stand and reach over the table to slap him over the head.

“I told you to stop saying that shit, Munson!” You drop back down heavily onto the bench and take what’s maybe a bit too big of a hit from the joint before passing it back over. “I know I’m like, always the first person to say that if you think everyone else is the problem then you’re probably the problem but,” you take a second to cough lightly and clear your throat before continuing. “In this instance I think it’s perfectly justified to say that literally everyone’s an asshole to you for no damn reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” Eddie replies lightly, and a bit too easily. “I run a cult, my dad’s in jail, I live in the bad part of town–”

“Yeah and none of that is your fault!” You frustratedly stomp at the ground under the table. “Come on! You don’t even actually run a cult. God forbid kids have fun doing shit, right? Jesus christ, don’t take that shit on for yourself!”

The joint burns between Eddie’s fingers and he just... sits there, staring at you like you’ve just confessed to murder.

“What. Why are you looking at me like that? You know I’m right!”

“Well, sure, I know that,” he replies, leaning back a little bit and taking another hit from the joint. “I’m just wondering what’s gotten into you that you’re this...” He gestures at you with both hands. “Whatever this is you are right now.”

“Whatever this is?“ you scoff, crossing your arms. ”Upset? Pissed off?“

“I was going for ‘slightly more unhinged than usual’ but that–yeah that works too.”

You twist your tongue against your teeth. You could probably talk... a little bit, right? You can probably spin it as just a weird run of the mill nightmare thing. Which just happens to involve people you happen to have seen around town when no one else did.

“It’s just...” you start, and when Eddie passes you the rest of the joint back, he leans his elbows on the table and rests his chin in his hands. “I’ve been having nightmares about people dying, man,” you whisper, taking the last hit from the joint before stubbing it out underneath the table.

“Like, people you know people? Or just random dream people?”

“People I know people,” you confirm, resting your head against the table gently, this time. “There’s–man, I really don’t know if I should be telling you this,” you groan, bringing your hands up over your head. “There’s like, your whole Hellfire club there dude. I saw Steve Harrington get like, half eaten alive once, that was fucking miserable.” You take a second to breathe. Thankfully, all Eddie does is fold his hands on the table and let his head rest on them.

“Are Harrington and that Henderson kid close at all?” The question is out of your mouth before you can think much about it. Eddie sits up straight and leave his palms face down on the table. When you look up, he’s got a brow raised at you.

“I guess? When I first picked him up, Henderson couldn’t shut up about him,” Eddie say, exhaling sharply like he’d found something funny. “Still doesn’t shut up about him actua... hey, are you good?”

No, you’re in fact very not good. There’s no way, right? There’s no way that what you saw was real, right? There’s no way there’s a weird blip in the spacetime continuum that let you see Dustin Henderson freaking out over a very bloodied and injured Steve Harrington?

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” You say weakly, turning around and away from the table to put your head between your legs.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mutters in a panic, and you can hear him trip over himself trying to get around the table do you. “You need a ride home? I can drop you off at the corner or something, you really don’t look too good.”

You wave him off to shut him up for a second, a hand over your mouth, desperately trying to control your breathing. Thinking about this kind of shit on an empty stomach and with a severe sleep deficiency wasn’t the greatest idea.

“I’ll be fine,” you eventually say, though a bit too quietly and not very convincingly. You try again. “I’m good. I just need to sleep.”

“Come on,” Eddie says, waving at you to get up. “I’ll take you home.”

You agree, with burning eyes and lungs that feel too small. You let Eddie help you into his van and close the door behind you. He does you the courtesy of keeping the volume low on whatever radio station he’d had one, and even if it’s not exactly warm out, lets you keep the passenger window down.

“You can drop me in front of my place,” you say, once you’re a few streets away. “My brother plays dungeons and dragons too, so they’re pretty acutely aware it’s not a satanic, baby-sacrificing cult.”

“You sure?” He asks, glancing over at you and gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. Your attempt at humour clearly didn’t work. “I don’t want to–”

“Just shut up and take me home, damn.”

Eddie still stops three houses away. You notice that he doesn’t leave until you’ve unlocked the door and turned around to wave him off. You think you see him nod before he pulls a u-turn and drives off.

Blessedly, no one’s home yet; your parents are still both up in Canada for some business trip your father needed to do, and your brother likely skipped town to go see his girlfriend for the weekend. Which gives you free access to your dad’s beer stash, entirely obviously hidden in the mini fridge in the basement, behind the old couch your mom’s been promising to reupholster soon.

You still close and lock your bedroom door just in case, after making sure the back and front doors were both locked, chained and deadbolted.

You’re half asleep in bed, trying very hard not to think about the nightmares that have been showing up with undesirably increasing frequency, when you feel it happening. A weird kind of pull that makes you feel weightless for a second, makes your stomach feel like it just up in your throat.

When you open your eyes, everything is dark and thick vines are covering your bedroom window from the outside.

“Shit, no, no no no,” you mutter in a panic, jumping out of bed and running to the window. What you can see through the vines is exactly what you’ve come to expect from this place. Ash falling from the sky, ominous red lightning in the distance. And a damp, cloying cold that makes you feel like you’ll never feel warmth again.

Swearing under your breath, you run down the stairs, through the kitchen, down into the basement and in the far back of your dad’s workshop. Having turned eighteen over a month ago, you’re blessing your lucky stars your dad decided to give you the combination for the gun safe. Nervous fingers keep missing the right digits, but you manage to get the damn thing open after a few tries.

And there it is: the family’s prized Winchester model 23, with several boxes of ammo at the bottom of the safe. You’re clumsy when you loaded up and almost drop the entire open box of shells, but eventually you get the thing locked and loaded. You’re about to head upstairs with just that and the shotgun shells, but turn around and grab the handgun before bounding back up the stairs.

This isn’t entirely unusual by now; you’ve seen this place every time you’ve had nightmares. Being an active participant is new, though. You’ve never been able to move around or touch anything, always a passive observer of goings-on.

It doesn’t sit right with you.

You sit cross-legged in the corner of you room, wedged between a wall and the edge of your desk. You have a clear line of sight to your window–not that you think it matters much with how absolutely covered it is–and your bedroom door, which you’ve pushed your bookcase again. And you wait.

You’re counting your blessings with being able to check your watch for the time, having apparently fallen asleep with it. Ten minutes pass. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty. You hear things outside, in the distance. Nothing close by. Somehow that puts you on edge even more. Check the time one more time: you’ve been holed up in your room for nearly fourty five minutes now with literally nothing happening.

You lean the shotgun against the wall next to you and get up to pace around your room. This isn’t normal. You screw your eyes shut as hard as you can and try to open them slowly, a trick that usually helps to wake you up. But it’s not good; you’re still in the twisted, decayed-looking version of your room.

Growling in frustration, you go back up to your window to see if you can spot anything out on the streets. But somehow, the vines have covered even more surface and you can barely make out the outside at all. You slam your fist against the window to–

Oh no. Did those vines just move?

Just as you wrap your hand about the Winchester, you feel something wrap around your ankle and pull. You’re winded as soon as you hit the floor, can feel your skull hit the hardwood. Whatever it is starts to drag you towards the door–and ultimately, you assume, down the stairs and out the door–you twist around to see what it is that has you.

And it’s a vine. A fucking vine.

You don’t really think too long or hard about it. Take a deep breath, bring the gun up, aim about two feet beyond the tip of your toes, and pull the trigger.

The gunfire makes your ears ring and feels like it blinds you for a second, but when you look down you can see you’ve successfully shot the vine off. What was around your ankle falls limp to the floor.

“Oh my fucking god, what the fucking hell,” you say to yourself, standing up and looking around. “Where are you? Show yourself!”

Stupid. God what a stupid thing to say.

You bring the shotgun back up and switch between aiming at the window and the door.

Strange, you hear, and it’s both like there’s a voice inside your head and like it’s resonating everywhere all at once. You don’t belong here.

“Fuck you, buddy!” you spit, spinning around wildly in your room. “I didn’t choose to be here!”

Then leave.

Text divider my natasharomanovf

[wonwoosthetic]

Can I request S56 for Mingyu? I was thinking maybe you two have been FWB for awhile and he started developing feelings. He never admits to it that is until he finds out from one of the other members (maybe Seokmin) that you’ve been going on dates with Seungcheol. He ends up convincing Seok to spy in on one of these said dates and “accidentally” bumps into you guys at a restaurant. Long stories short you guys fuck in the bathroom and you get even more confused about your relationship than you were before.

Hiii, thanks a lot for the request, I hope I did it justice and enjoy!🥵🔥

This... wow... was hot to write. Since I know how many of you guys are hoes for Mingyu (my last prompt literally got 200 notes within 24 hours after I uploaded it (thank you so much for that!), here you have another one.

Jealousy Looks Good On You | Chapter One

Prompt (Smut): 56. “Are you fucking him?”, “That’s none of your business.”, “Answer the damn question.”

K-Pop Masterlist

Prompts

Requests, asks, and taglist are open :)

Warnings: smut (18+), semi-public sex (public bathroom), cursing, jealousy

Trope: friends with benefits to ???

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader, S.Coups x Reader

Word count: 4.6k

A/N: Please be ware: this has kinda a long backstory, I'm sorryyy :/ Not gonna lie though... kinda want to turn this into a series. I would have imagines this as sort of like the second part of it (first one would be the backstory of you and Mingyu becoming fwb, and then the third one would be figuring out your relationship), so let me know if you're interested! :)

Dates And A Bathroom

(Y=You, M=Mingyu)

M: Can I come over tonight?

Y: Sorry, I'm out.

Mingyu has been getting the same sort of answers from you for the past three weeks: I'm not home, I'm out, can't sorry. Receiving these messages also meant that he hasn't been able to see you in this time, and he was getting noticeably irritated by it - not getting to feel your body up against his own was not doing him any good. Even the members started noticing it, telling him to just go out and find someone else to let his frustration out on, but the truth was... he didn't want anyone else. He could never do the things he does to you to anyone else. And even though he hadn't told any of the other guys this, didn't mean they couldn't tell, as it was clear as the sky is blue that Mingyu's feelings got stronger for the person he had sworn was only a friend he casually slept with from time to time.

M: With who?

As much as the 24-year old didn't want to sound nosy or frustrated, he couldn't help but wonder who you were ditching him for, once again.

You had to think twice about what exactly you were going to answer your long term friend, that you have been fucking casually, on his question.

Y: Coups. Sorry, maybe next week :)

You hoped that maybe your additional text would cover it up well enough... you really hoped so.

The relationship Mingyu and you had built up had gotten more and more confusing over the span of the last few months that you had this 'thing' going on. Both of you agreed that sleeping with each other to get over your built-up frustration and horniness was a good idea, but the last few weeks made you start doubting this.

You also never meant for this to happen: meeting up on dates with Seungcheol came up randomly. But you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't been enjoying his presence for the past dates that you guys shared. He was kind, sweet, respectful, and truly everything a woman could wish for, and him asking you out first was definitely not something you could have ever seen coming. The two of you agreed to start casually and just see where it would lead to. You also agreed to keep it a secret from Mingyu... just in case, it wouldn't work out. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Then why does it kinda not feel right...

Why did you start going out with him? You were trying to convince yourself that it was because you started looking for something more serious, something more meaningful than just fucking around... deep down though, you knew that you could potentially have the same thing with Mi- no, no, no, no way, he was just your friend and you were having fun. Seungcheol could be something serious though... right?

The tall man scuffed at the message he received, and responded:

M: Alright, have fun, be careful.

Not meaning any of it... besides the 'be careful'.

He walked out of his room and came to sight with DK lounging on their couch in the living room.

"Wanna go out tonight? Maybe invite the other 97s?" He wanted to know, throwing himself onto the cushion next to his friend.

"I thought you're meeting up with (Y/N)." DK wondered.

The younger one shook his head, looking at the TV in front of them, "Nah, she's going out."

To which Dokyeom nodded, mindlessly looking at his phone, "Ah, right, I think Coups mentioned it."

Mingyu's head shot to his right, looking at the other guy, "What?" who then raised his head, "What?" The taller one sat up straighter, elbows on his knees, "What did you just say?" Suddenly the realisation of hit DK. He quickly shut his mouth that hung open and turned his attention back to his phone, "Nothing, sorry."

But Mingyu was having none of it, "No, no, no, what did you just say?"

"Nothing, I... I mixed something up," he tried defending himself, but he had never been a good liar. Not being quick enough to react, DK got his phone snatched out of his hands by Mingyu, who immediately put it under his butt.

"Hey, stop," the older one tried to reach for it, "Give it back." The black-haired member leaned back and stretched out his arm in which's hand the phone now was, "First, you repeat what you just said." The other 97 Liner gave up quickly, knowing he wouldn't win anyways, "Listen, it's not my place to say this", "Still you did, so repeat it."

With a sigh, he did, "Seungcheol mentioned it", making Mingyu raise his eyebrows, gesturing for him to continue, "That he's taking (Y/N) out tonight."

"What do you mean 'take out'?!" Mingyu's voice got significantly louder, standing up quickly. Dokyeom followed his action, now standing right in front of him, "Man, I don't know, they've been going out for a while now."

He couldn't believe his ears. Not knowing what to do, he just stood there. Dumbfounded, looking around the room, not focusing on anything particularly. Seokmin used that time and snatched his phone back from the other one's hand. "I'm sorry" He patted his shoulder. Just as he was about to leave, he felt a grasp on his arm, "Where?" He gave Mingyu a questioning look, "Where are they meeting up?"

"How am I supposed to know that? He just said he's taking her out, I don't know where," he defended himself.

"Then go and find it out," the tall member pointed to the door.

"Mingyu," Seokmin sighed, "You shouldn't-"

"Shouldn't what?! Huh? What shouldn't I do?!"

The two of them looked each other in the eyes, not saying a word. The older one could see the sorrow and hurt in his friend's eyes. He was one of the few ones who had been following your relationship since the beginning and who had been seeing Mingyu slowly falling in love with you... He didn't know how he was feeling, nor would he ever pretend to know, but he also knew that he couldn't let him down like this...

"Listen, I know this may be hard for you, but-" he tried talking him down, but again, that didn't work.

"But nothing! Just find out where he's going, Jesus Christ!" He was panting around the room, not knowing what to do.

"It's understandable that you're frustrated, but you can't-"

"Stop with the 'buts', you have no idea what I'm gonna do, I don't-"

"I know exactly what you're gonna do!" Suddenly also DK raised his voice, being done with the way Mingyu was speaking... shouting more, "I know you, dude! You're gonna find out where they are, and you're gonna do something you will regret." Mingyu scuffing didn't stop him from continuing, "I know you're in love with her. I know it. But do you really think trying to get in between her and Seungcheol is gonna do anything good? You don't even know what they're meeting up for."

"You know damn well why they're meeting up. Coups has always said he thought (Y/N) was pretty." He said back down, "Alright, so I am in love with her. Is it wrong to act on it?"

"It's not wrong, but do you really think it's worth it, what you want to do?" Dokyeom honestly wanted to know. Mingyu nodded his head with no hesitation.

10 minutes after DK left to go and squeeze the answer out of Chan who knew all the details about your date, which was a lot easier than thought, he sent Mingyu a quick text with the address of the restaurant and added the time their friend had told him.

M: You're coming with me. Meet me at my car in 5 minutes.

The oldest 97 Liner knew it was useless to argue with his friend and decided, helping him by trying to keep his mind clear would be better than letting him go alone and possibly ruin everything he had built up with not only you but also his friendship with S.Coups.

--- At The Restaurant ---

Seungcheol opened the door for you and motioned for you to walk in first. The restaurant was definitely more expensive than any other you would ever visit by yourself, but he insisted that your third date should be a little bit more special. As soon as you got to the hostess, he let her know under which name he made a reservation and you were led to your designated table. There, the gentleman he was, Seungcheol got behind your chair and pulled it back, for you to sit down.

The moment you sat down, a waiter showed up with the wine card and menu, which you left all to Cheol since you had found out he had quite the knowledge when it came to these things. As always, you picked up a conversation easily, falling into a comfortable talk quickly as the wine got served first.

"I think the guys are getting a bit nosy," the man in front of you mentioned. You quickly put down your glass from which you were about to take a sip, "What do you mean?" An uneasy feeling spreading in your stomach. "Chan asked me where we're going tonight," he laughed it off. You tried fake laughing to not make him notice the thoughts that were going on inside your head, 'Why did he want to know?' 'Did he talk to Mingyu?' 'Does he know something?'

You've been having to deal with these worries for the past weeks in which you had been meeting up. Seungcheol quickly notices, "You okay?" Your head shot up quickly, looking into his worried eyes, "Yeah, I just- I just remembered something, it's fine." You shrugged it off and he bought it thankfully.

After another few minutes, suddenly two presences showed up next to you, "Oh, may we serve you tonight," Dokyeom jokingly acted like a waiter. The two of you who had been sitting at the table looked up, only to meet the eyes of Mingyu and DK.

"What are you doing here?" Their friend immediately asked, receiving an awkward chuckle from the oldest '97 Liner. As the two were talking, Mingyu's ice-cold stare never left your eyes - you could feel his disappointment and fury.

"Oh we- we were just walking down the street and saw you through the window. And we thought we could join you." Without hesitation, both of the guys got themselves seated at your table for four - the still smiling guy next to Seungcheol and the man you didn't want to see next to you.

DK was good at keeping up the small talk, Coups nodding and conversing with him, Mingyu mostly just listening, but you couldn't focus for the life of you. Your hands were in your lap, picking at your nails, a bad habit that comes out when you're nervous. Your mindset was everywhere but at what was happening at the table. Why was he here? What was he trying to do? Why did you have to lie? Just telling him the truth would have saved you from this incredibly uncomfortable situation you were in. Mingyu seemed to notice the way your head hung low, and his gaze drifted to your hands, seeing your fingers fiddling. He moved his hand over to yours to grasp them under the table but as soon as you felt his touch, you pushed his hands away, lifted your hand and interrupted the conversation that was going on, "So, are we going to order something to eat?"

As much as you wanted to leave the scene, you knew that this wouldn't stop Dokyeom and Mingyu from following you and, to be honest, you couldn't care less right now. You were not only annoyed at him following you to your date but that he had the audacity to interrupt it as well.

After you went first to grab the card and look at the menu, the others followed your action. Seungcheol noticed your change of posture and attitude, "Maybe we should go somewhere else?" He directed the question to the group while looking at you, so you knew that it was meant for you, but he didn't want to make it too obvious.

"No, it's fine," You gave him a fake smile, feeling Mingyu's side-eye glance.

"Hyung," the man next to you suddenly spoke up, "What made you choose this restaurant?" But you couldn't even hear Cheol's answer. You were focused on Mingyu... too focused on him. He felt your eyes on him, making him turn his head and look you directly in the eyes, to which you quickly looked away. After a few more seconds of trying to read the menu, you suddenly felt a big hand softly placing itself on your thigh. Your heartbeat quickened immediately, and you almost gasped.

"You okay?" Seungcheol sounded worried. You got a smile as an answer, "Yeah, all fine," in the same moment that you took the hand on your thigh in yours and tried to get it off, when it suddenly gripped it hard, making you sit straighter and place the card back on the table.

"I never knew you liked (Y/N)," Mingyu started again, "Why did you want to take her out?"

"Don't answer that," You quickly stopped Seungcheol, who already had opened his mouth.

"Hm?" He looked at you surprised, so you repeated, "Don't answer his question," before turning to your left, "And you stop asking stupid questions?"

Mingyu gave you a smirk, "Why stupid questions? I just wanted to know-", "No." You interrupted him.

Then you felt his grip tighten again as his eyes never left your face, "Then you tell me," this made you turn back to him, "Why didn't you tell me-"

"I'm sorry," you showed a finger to Cheol, "Could you excuse us for a minute?" Not waiting on an answer as you asked him rhetorically, you stood up and dragged Mingyu with you by his hand. You stopped once you reached the back of the restaurant, where the toilets were, opening one door, not letting go of his hand until both of you were inside, out of side from his friends.

"Oh, so now you need me?" He cockily asked, ready to grab your hips, but you only slapped his hands away, "I don't want them to see me slapping you," you explained, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me?" He scuffed, "I'm not the one going out behind my friend's back!"

"Behind your back?! This has nothing to do with you!" You raised your voice.

"He's one of my best friends, of course, it's my business," he lied. Yes, of course, Seungcheol was one of his closest friends. But that was not why he felt like it was his business.

"No. Me and him meeting up has nothing to do with you."

"Yes, it does. I have to look at you two," he simply stated, leaning back on the sink.

"Wow," you crossed your arms, "Real mature. We're friends. My love life does not involve you."

He pushed himself off the sink and started approaching you slowly, "I think you're forgetting that I'm still the one fucking you, not him." His actions and words made you back at the same speed that he was walking up to you, just until you hit the counter behind you.

"How would you know?" At this point, you were more than just annoyed and didn't think too much about the words falling from your lips.

"What did you just say?" Mingyu raised one eyebrow, looking you dead in the eyes. Instead of answering him, you simply looked away, avoiding his stare. Suddenly, you felt his hand grab your jaw tightly, turning your head to meat his face, "Are you fucking him?", "That's none of your business." You copied his stare. Both of your faces were close enough to feel the other one's breath against your lips. His grip switched from your jaw to your neck but was just as tight, "Answer the damn question."

"Or what?" You decided to challenge him, feeling the effect of his body this close to you as your legs got wobblier and your breathing quickened.

"Or I'm going to fuck you so hard that the entire restaurant will hear you screaming my name." No words could leave your mouth as your breath hitched and you had to gulp, processing what Mingyu just said.

Both of you only exchanged the same desire in your eyes, words weren't needed, as he knew exactly what you were asking for by the way your stare switched from his eyes to his lips repeatedly. Another smirk formed on his lips before he loosened his grip to place the palm of his hand on your cheek and pull you in for a hard kiss. Without hesitation, your hands went to the back of his neck, trying to pull him even closer, as your lips were quickly moving against each other. The way his tongue started entering your mouth made you forget the public situation you were in and you just went along with whatever he was doing.

"You got all dolled up for him, just for me to absolutely ruin you now," he cockily noticed as he had found the seam of your dress.

"Shut up," you quickly answered, pulling on his hair in the back of his neck, earning a deep moan from him. As soon as his hands were able to get underneath your dress, it didn't take long to get rid of your underwear, as he simply just ripped them off of you, making you gasp, "Are you out of your mind?" You hit him in the chest, which only seemed to make him more confident in his actions.

"I felt how much more you just got turned on by that, so shut that pretty little mouth of yours and be a good girl and turn around." You quickly did as you were told, way too turned on to wait any longer for him to finally do something about it.

His lips started placing kisses below your ear before travelling down your neck and to your shoulders, all while looking at you through the mirror you were now facing. Your head fell back as soon as you started feeling his big hands grabbing your naked ass and squeezing it.

"And you think Cheol could get you turned on that quickly, huh?"

As your mind was elsewhere, you didn't answer, but only moaned when he started sucking on the sweet spot where your neck and shoulder met, before suddenly stopping.

"If you don't answer me, I won't touch you. Answer me, and I'll make sure you won't be able to walk back to the table normally," he whispered in your ear, your eyes meeting when both of you looked into the mirror.

"So, I'm gonna ask again," you started feeling his hands raising up your dress and reaching to the front, finding your core quickly, "You think Seungcheol could make you this wet?" He asked just as his fingers grazed over your entrance, feeling your wetness already pouring out of you.

"No," you shakingly answered as he started circling your clit.

"No, what? Use your words well," he demanded.

"No, he can't make me this wet," you moaned when his index finger found its way back to your entrance, but his thumb stayed on your bundle of nerves, "Fuck, Mingyu..."

You could hear his left hand working on opening his belt to get his pants down, but as it was getting too hard, he had to use his right one as well, leaving your core, making you whine.

"Don't get whiny. You didn't want me to fuck you in the first place today." Mingyu gripped your hips harshly and made sure your ass lined up perfectly with his now free dick.

"I'm sorry," you said breathlessly, looking at him by staring straight ahead.

"You should be sorry to everyone in the restaurant once they hear your beautiful moans."

As you felt his dick now on your ass, you started moving your hips, and both of his hands went back to your front - left was working on your clit, when the right middle and ring finger slammed into you. A loud moan left your mouth at the sudden action, and your back hit his chest.

His fingers quickly moved in and out of you, making the sounds of your wetness echoing through the bathroom.

"Mingyu," you moaned. "Yeah? Come on, you can be louder than that." He made it almost sound challenging. His eyes never left your face in the mirror, looking at the way your mouth was hanging open, moans leaving it every now and then - this is the sight he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

Your hands were trying to hold onto something but could only find both of his forearms, which you were holding onto for dear life. The speed at which Mingyu kept on moving his fingers, you could have sworn he lifted you off the ground just by them every time he slammed them inside you. He switched up his motions from going inside and out to also moving them inside you by curling them up, hitting that rough spot just right, making you almost scream, but you were able to quickly stop yourself by pressing your lips together.

As soon as Mingyu saw that, his right hand came up to your mouth, spreading your wetness around it, releasing your lips from pressing against each other, "No, no, you're not holding in any of those pretty moans. I want to hear all of them. Let them know who makes you that good", he stated in a normal tone. After sucking off your wetness off his fingers, he put them back to where they were, this time, not making you hold back any loud sounds.

"Mingyuuuu," you dragged out his name as his motions made you bounce.

"Fuck, I'll never get enough of hearing that," he admitted with a moan as he started rubbing his dick against your crack.

"Gyu, I'm close," you told him with your shaky voice.

"Don't you fucking dare come until I'm inside you," he answered with a death stare in the mirror.

"Then fuck me finally, Jesus Christ!" You almost shouted.

"I swear, I'm never letting another man touch you," Mingyu quickly added before retreating his finger and placing his hands on your hips to line you up well. "Bend over properly, princess," he said as one of his hands came up to your head and pushed forward, making you tilt your entire upper body in that direction and rest your palms on top of the counter.

He teased you for a short time, gliding the tip of his erection over your entrance, before slamming into you harder than with his fingers before. This action made you jump forward slightly and switch from leaning onto your palms to leaning onto your elbows quickly.

"Ah, shit!" you moaned loudly without thinking about the volume of your voice, "Fuck, Mingyu. Fuck me, please." And he did just as he was told.

His hands went from holding onto your hips and ass to getting a hold of your hair to pull you backwards, making you hit his chest again.

"Look at you," he ordered you, "Look at me fucking you senseless." You couldn't even look properly straight, your head constantly falling backwards or forwards in pleasure.

His name kept on falling from your pretty lips, turning him on, even more, making him move faster if even possible.

"Ugh," he groaned deeply, "How are you still this tight," thinking back on all of the other nights you've shared together in the unholiest positions.

Your moans turned into whines as the hand that had clasped your hair went back to the front to not only hold you in position but to also put some focus back on your clit by rubbing circles around it. Mingyu knew exactly how to touch you, the months you've spent together teaching him just that. If he could, he could make you come within three minutes - he had done so before.

"Gyu, ah, it feels so good," you tried letting him know, knowing he lives for your praise. You knew it worked by the way his lips went to your neck, and you felt a smirk just then, "Damn right it does." He started sucking on one spot again, using everything he could right now, to pleasure you, "I know you want to come, I can feel you tightening around me. So fucking do it," he demanded.

You were still surprised by how stable Mingyu was always able to sound while literally fucking your soul out of your body - you made a mental note to possibly challenge that at some point.

You hated how well he knew you, because damn, of course, you were close. By the way, he was fucking your hole AND stimulating your clit while ALSO sucking on your neck, you could have sworn to even squirt if it wasn't for you remembering that you were still in a public bathroom.

After his demand it didn't take long for you to finally reach your high with a screeched moan as his fingers went almost double the speed, helping you, but also making you lose your complete feeling in your legs. You quickly grabbed onto the counter again when you felt Mingyu releasing himself inside you and hearing him groan as he pushed the both of you forward. He kept on moving his dick in and outside of you, milking out every last drip that could come out, and his fingers started slowing down slightly, making you able to ride out your orgasm like he usually lets you.

You could feel his heavy breathing by your neck and his chest moving up and down quickly on your back. His hands went back to your hair to put it behind your ear as he placed a kiss on your cheek - you leaned into it without noticing. Mingyu stood back up straight to reach for a tissue at the disposer hanging on the wall. After grabbing it, he slid out of you slowly, leaving you feeling empty and cold all of a sudden. You were able to stable your breathing somewhat again and were about to stand up when Mingyu's hand stopped you by placing it on your lower back, "No, stay," he quietly spoke.

Just then, you felt the tissue graze against your slit, where his release mixed with your juices was leaking out. He cleaned you up well, all without exchanging any words, before throwing them away and pulling you back up by your hand.

As the man in front of you was putting his pants back on, your eyes didn't leave his frame. They travelled over his legs, up his torso, until they rested at his face, well, more the top of his head as he was looking down. That's when you realised the mistake you had just done. The only reason, that you even went out with Seungcheol was to walk away from something like this happening. How could you have let this happen when you strictly told yourself, you wouldn't fall for the guy who was only fucking you as a friend?

⋆⋇⋆⋇⋇⋆✦꘏✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆⋇ ⋆⋇⋆⋇⋇⋆✦꘏✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆⋇

Again, sorry that it’s kinda long😕

Also, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!

Hope you have a good day/night and feedback is always appreciated! :)

[symbi-eat-me]

Prey Part 2 [Venom x Eddie Brock x female!reader 18+]

[WARNINGS/TAGS?: Female coochie-owning reader, lots of smut!!! with some plot, some implied? stalking, pet names, claws an monsters and all that good stuff] 

[This chapter is SFW but the rest of the fic is major NSFW]

Summary: You can’t stop thinking about Venom after that night, so you give in and call Eddie to try and get some real answers...

I keep forgetting to upload on here lmao check my AO3 instead if you want regular updates.

No smut this time :( this’ll be the only chapter like that though, I just wanted to set up the relationship a little better

Part 1

You hadn’t slept that night. After Venom had his way with you, Eddie had kindly walked you back to your apartment. You didn't see Venom again.

When you got in, you'd locked the doors and windows twice over. Three times, in fact. Especially as you let the events of the night settle in, you wanted to ensure you were alone.

Lying in the light of your lamp, you turned the receipt over in your hands. Eddie must have slipped it into your coat pocket in your dazed state. Written on the back was a number. You recalled, the last thing he'd told you was that you could call him whenever you liked, just to talk, or anything. You smiled weakly. You supposed this was pretty normal for them, pick up some random dorky girl on the street after following her for a few days. Destroy her chances of ever enjoying sex with a human ever again. Yeah. You bet the number was a farce, just a random string he'd come up with to make you feel as though he cared.

But fuck, you couldn't stop thinking about them. Venom, more than anything. You'd had your fair share of fantasies sure, but to actually have a monster of that sort exist and be right in front of you? You didn't think it had even set in yet. He plagued your mind even more than Eddie had for the past week, all you could think about was his warm tongue reachi-

You sighed and turned the paper over for the millionth time that night. All that was printed on the other side was a corner shop receipt for 9 bars of dark chocolate. Nothing worthwhile. Although 9 bars did seem excessive. You clambered out of bed. Stumbling over in the dark, you softly unlatched your bedroom window and cracked it open.

After that you finally managed to sleep.

-

Despite your considerations last night, you were calling the number. In your last moments of consciousness you'd vowed to yourself that you wouldn't even try it, but it was a little too late for that now. It rang once, twice, three times and then went silent. You sighed.

“Hello?” you heard Eddie’s voice. He sounded half asleep and you mentally scolded yourself for not even considering the early hour. “H-hi?”

“Oh, y/n! How are you?” You were shocked to even hear his voice, quite honestly. You had convinced yourself that the call wasn't even going to go through. So much for planning ahead. “I'm...good,” you managed to splutter out. “That's good, that's good, he-“ you heard some commotion from the other end, like the microphone had been covered. “I'm so sorry, Venom wants to know if you're...aching and he won't shut up.” You heard various growling noises and couldn't help but laugh.

“Yeah...it's a good job I'm not working today, I can say that much.” It was true. Despite venom being surprisingly gentle with you, you supposed being suspended in the air like that wasn't great for your body.

Eddie chuckled, finally sounding relaxed, “yeah, he’s not really used to getting close with anyone apart from me and I have enhanced strength with the whole alien body thing so...”

You were reminded of how close they were yesterday, and reddened at the mention of them being intimate together. You supposed it made sense, really. If you had an alien in your body you'd be fucking every night. “Really? I thought you'd be picking people up left right and centre to fuel his hunger.” “Ha, yeah you'd think. But nope, you're the first person he's shown interest in in a long time. We tend to stick to ourselves, but I guess he couldn't contain himself.”

Still not convinced, you were shocked at the idea of Venom genuinely wanting you. You were more than happy, clearly, but you weren't sure if you could even trust them.

“Yeah maybe don't do the whole following people around thing anymore, hey.” “Fuck, I'm surprised you even said yes after that last night, god. I don't know what came over him, he just wouldn't let it go. Nothing like that ever again.”

“Without consent, anyway,” you said without thinking. He laughed again, “oh god he’s screaming to talk to you again now.”

You blushed and gnawed at your lips, “hi venom.” “Hello y/n, I would like to-“ you heard him at a distance before Eddie clearly shut him up again. “Okay this isn't going to work,” he muttered, “I don't want to come across too strong but do you...want to get coffee or something later? If you just wanted to be done with us that's totally fine, I'll delete your number and you'll never hear from us again.”

You stuttered, was he asking you out? This really was not how you'd expected things to go. You thought back to Eddie, the man who you'd been so intrigued by for so long. There was no denying you were itching to know more about them.

“Is that what Venom wants?”

“Ohh yeah he wants that real bad. He's practically clawing at my brain right now. I want it too though, I'd love to talk to you and get things straight. We share feelings you know, it isn't just Venom that's hungry.”

You stumbled, “okay, sure.” “I'll be at the coffee shop off the main road at noon, no pressure to show up if you change your mind.” “Okay,” you breathed. You gave your goodbyes.

-

After hours of mentally battling yourself, you were finally stood at the door of the coffee shop. You hoped this was the right decision.

It was fairly empty when you walked in, and immediately you saw Eddie wavin  over from a booth at the back of the store. Staying hidden, you supposed they'd gotten pretty good at that.

“Hey,” you could hardly meet his eyes as you slipped onto the seat opposite him. “Hey! I'm glad you showed up.” He pushed a mug toward you, “I hope hot chocolate is okay.” You nodded, “thanks.”

A few moments passed of deafening silence.

“So...you wanna tell me why you have an alien inside you?”

He chuckled, “oh yeah, probably a good idea.” As he spoke, he grasped his cup with one hand and tapped his fingertips on the tabletop with the other. You ripped your eyes away, hoping he hadn't noticed u staring at his hands. “I used to be a reporter back in San Francisco, and I did a piece on the Life Foundation. Long story short turns out they'd been harbouring aliens there and I end up with this fucker latching onto me.”

You recalled the name of the Life Foundation, but had never given it much thought. He proceeded to explain that Venom was what they called a symbiote, and needed a match of a human host to survive and prosper.

“And you two are a match?” you asked. He nodded. “You're kind of like soulmates then, really,” you smirked at him. He laughed, “I suppose so.”

At that, you found yourself at ease with Eddie. He told you more about their past, and how they were on the run. “As it turns out, it's not the easiest thing in the world to avoid police investigation when you’re hosting a person-eating symbiote.”

Oh yeah, that was something you hadn't had time to unpack. “You...really eat people?” “Yeah, we like to stick to ‘bad guys’ though. And he can survive on chocolate for quite a while.” You recalled the receipt he'd given you, fondly. The whole eating people thing, you'd have to get used to.

“Do you mind it?” you asked. “What?” “I mean, do you mind him being there all the time?” “I did at first. But he's part of me now. We’ve separated a few times and it's just...quiet, and empty.”

You smiled, as strange as it was, it was sort of sweet. You suddenly felt a little self conscious, like you were forcing yourself onto them. They were symbiotic, that's what Eddie had said. They certainly didn't need you around.

Interrupting that thought, you felt a sensation at your thigh. Glancing down below the table, you nearly jumped out of your seat. Venom’s head nuzzled your leg and grinned up at you.

“Venom!” You whispered, glimpsing around the shop to see if anyone noticed him. “Don't worry, I'm hidden, sweet thing,” he growled softly. Having him so close to your lower half again lit up every nerve in your body, and you worried that he'd do something that would really arouse the suspicion of everyone sat around you. Instead, he just rested his head on your thigh and looked up at you.

You blushed and tentatively glanced at Eddie. “Why does he like me?” you murmured. He reddened himself, then, “I-well because you're cute? And the way you looked at us on the train that first time...”

“You like us too don't you, y/n?”

Your eyes shifted over Eddie's face, and then down to venom. You softly stroked his head and he made somewhat of a purring noise. A tendril gently wrapped itself around your fingers, warming your skin in an alien hand-hold. “I do like you,” you breathed.

The tendril shifted tighter around your hand and caressed you in a strange but comforting way. You risked a look at Eddie, to see him staring intently at you. His eyes were dark and he nearly looked...hungry. You could get used to that.

You spoke again, “So, you have any more stories?”

Part 3

[verai-marcel]

Not What He Seems (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x F!Reader, Modern AU, 18+, Chapter 2 of 2)

Part 1 is here, with all the tags and notes.

@red-dead-reader Here's part 2, sorry it took so long!

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

Word Count: 4875

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

Chapter 2 - High Honor

“C’mon Arthur, just give me your phone.”

Tilly leveled her world-class sass straight at Arthur, and he knew he wouldn’t win this fight. If he didn’t give in today, Tilly would bring in the other ladies, and soon all of them would be nagging him.

Sullen and silent, Arthur pulled out his phone and dropped it into Tilly’s outstretched hand.

“You’ve made a good decision today,” she said with a knowing smile as she installed the dating app and started working on his profile.

He leaned back in his seat at the diner, the vinyl faded on his side of the booth. The sun had clearly done a number on the color of the material long before the owner had decided to install a sunscreen.

“It’s nice out today, why don’t we take your profile picture with you leaning against your pick up?”

Arthur sighed. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you do.”

They paid their bill and went outside. Tilly positioned Arthur in just the right pose, at just the right angle before standing back.

“Remember the time John found that family of possums in the back of his truck?” Tilly idly asked while she was framing the shot.

Arthur cracked a smile. “Yeah, I remember. He came rushin’ back into the office lookin’ for a broom!” 

Tilly quickly took a few shots before rapidly fiddling with his phone.

Arthur watched her thumbs and fingers flying across his screen as he walked over to take a look. He was a little surprised by the image she had finally chosen and was now editing with lighting speed. She uploaded the image and showed him how to use the app.

“You just swipe left if you’re not interested, and swipe right if you are,” Tilly instructed. “If they swipe right on you too, then the app will put you two in contact.” She handed him the phone and grinned. “Good luck! I’m sure you’ll find a lucky lady who will appreciate you the way you deserve.”

Arthur shrugged. “I guess.” When Tilly began to glare at him, he held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to be positive.” He took a breath, willing some positivity into himself before looking back up at his friend. “Thank you Tilly,” he said sincerely.

She patted his arm before squeezing it amicably. “Anytime, Arthur. We just want to see you happy, and that starts by moving forward.”

He smiled. He knew the ladies at the company he worked for truly cared for him, so he would try his best not to let their efforts go to waste.

She gave him an encouraging hug before leaving for her own car. Arthur watched Tilly drive away, giving her one last wave as she pulled out of the diner parking lot.

Looking back down at his phone, he let out a heavy sigh before finally getting into his truck and driving home. 

Ain’t no one gonna swipe right on me. 

***

You had been striking out lately, going on quick dates nearly twice a week, trying to find the right spark. So far, all of the guys you met had either been complete lies or too damn sweet for you. You needed a bit of an edge, a bit of roughness. At least in bed. 

Glancing at the office calendar, you saw that most of your colleagues would be in meetings for the next hour, so you sat back, pulled out your phone, and did a little more swiping in the hopes of finding some fun for tonight. It was your Friday, even though it wasn’t actually Friday, and you just wanted to get railed. Or at least go out for a good meal. 

After fifteen minutes of mostly swiping left, you were about to give up. But one last profile popped up and you paused. You saw the white T-shirt that seemed one size too small and the hands tucked into his jeans, the profile pic cropped right below what seemed to be a sizable package. But what really drew you was his face. He had a natural smile, as if he was sharing a funny story with someone close. The mirth actually reached his eyes, a strange greenish-blue that really stood out against the dark blue truck he was leaning against. He was clean shaven, with medium length hair that fluttered around the shell of his ears, and though his expression seemed friendly, you had a gut feeling that he could be more than that. The scar on his chin and his nose that appeared like it had healed crookedly made you think he’d seen his share of fights.

Doing a quick estimate of his size based on the truck window, you felt a slight shiver of pleasure go down your spine. He could probably pick you up, no problem. The sleeves of his shirt stretched around his biceps oh so temptingly.

He looked like one of your wet dreams walked out and made a profile. In other words, too good to be true. You scrolled down to read his description.

Wanting to meet someone new, hoping to start something wonderful. Or at least have a good time.

Short, honest, and to the point. You liked it.

You swiped right.

***

hi Arthur!&lt;

>hey there

i really liked your profile. i happen to be free tonight, if you are?&lt;

>i am. where do you want to go?

Mel’s over in downtown? 6pm?&lt;

>works for me. see you then.

***

You showed up a little late, having taken just a little long to pick out an outfit. You had opted for something cute but still easy to remove. A deep red, sleeveless snap button blouse and a medium length grey linen skirt with a side slit hid your cute pink lace bra and matching panties. Plain beige flats completed your outfit; you hated heels and refused to wear them out, even if they made your legs look killer.

Even under normal circumstances when you would power walk to your destination and ignore everything in your peripheral vision, you would not have been able to ignore this man. Arthur leaned casually against the wall, looking around him as if he was surveying his kingdom. His dark colored polo shirt stretched across his muscular chest, and all of the buttons were loosened, revealing a bit of chest hair. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and you couldn’t stop yourself from sneaking a glance between his legs. 

Oh yes, you saw what you wanted and hummed approvingly. Looking back up at his face, he had a neutral expression, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. In the dim evening light, he looked almost dangerous with his five o’clock shadow and large body, but you had the feeling that he wasn’t a threat unless someone pushed their luck. You also had a hunch that if someone started a fight with him, he would most certainly end it. His confident posture was woven together with a down to earth vibe, and it made for a heady mixture. 

When he turned his eyes on you, your heart nearly stopped. His gaze was intense, like he was looking into your soul. Pushing off the wall, he took a couple steps towards you.

“Hey there,” he said, a smile transforming his face into something much more dangerous: a devilishly handsome man, with a boyish, sincere charm. The sheer novelty of that dichotomy pulled at your heart even harder. Your brain was shooting off sirens, robotic screams of oh no he’s cute sounding off in your head, and all you could do in your lust-induced inebriated state was smile back.

He took a couple more steps around you, but stopped short of crowding you. Using his body to shield you from the clusters of the other waiting customers, he held out his hand. “Let’s go inside,” he said, not demanding, but not exactly giving you an option, either.

Following his soft command, you took his hand. Arthur held your hand softly, daintily, as if you would break with even the slightest mishandling of your person. Leading you inside, he was the perfect gentleman, almost anachronistic in his actions as he opened the door for you and led you by your elbow instead of the small of your back. He even pulled out the chair for you.

“Definitely getting points for being a gentleman,” you commented.

He grinned. “There’s a scorecard for this date?”

“There is, and you’re currently doing very well.”

“That’s good to hear.” He placed his forearm on the table and leaned in conspiratorially. Picking up on his cue, you leaned in closer as well. A sly smile appeared on his face. “So what happens if I get a perfect score?” he asked, his voice lowered to a rumble.

Feeling bold and horny, you coyly said, “You get a prize.”

“My choice?”

“Your choice.”

Arthur’s eyes flashed with intense desire. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, his words sounding like a dark promise. Then he pulled away, his expression lightening back to innocent charm. You wondered for a moment if you had just imagined it all.

As the night progressed, you realized that you would probably have to hold up your end of the bargain, because you could find nothing wrong with the date. He was kind, charming, humble to the point of being self-deprecating, and most importantly to you, he was funny. His wry commentary was just the perfect thing to make your day, especially as you told him stories from work. He naturally took your side, and made you feel supported and seen.

As dinner wound down, you were starting to feel a little tired, much to your chagrin. You ordered a small cappuccino as dessert and sipped it while you listened to him tell you about how his profile pic came to be.

“Tilly wouldn’t let up. Fer weeks she was on me about tryin’ the app.” He reached out and touched your hand. “Glad I finally did, though.”

His smile softened your heart and you couldn’t stop the goofy grin forming on your face. “Alright, you win,” you said. “Perfect score.”

“Oh? I weren’t even tryin’,” he said sheepishly.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I just wanted to have a good time with ya.”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking about your next move. He was truly a nice guy. He was hot. But would he give you what you needed in bed? He had been awfully gentle with you, not doing anything too forward at this stage. Hell, he hadn’t touched anything other than your arms, and not even past your elbow. A true gentleman, in the 1800s definition. You wondered if he’d be tame in bed as well.

But then you recalled the way he had replied about getting a prize and the way his gaze had suddenly felt like a sultry pressure on your soul. Maybe there was something more feral within him, a beast to unleash. You already planned to invite him home, but now you hoped that he’d give you what you wanted, no, needed.

Arthur’s gaze stayed on your lips for a moment before coming back up to observe your unsure expression. “Do I still get a prize? Or are ya too tired?”

You lifted your mug. “I got a cappuccino for a reason,” you said, winking at him. “But to claim your prize, you have to follow me home.”

Arthur clutched his non-existent pearls. “Oh my, followin’ a stranger home, what will people think of me.”

You broke out in a very loud guffaw, not at all lady-like. “Oh yes, your dainty reputation,” you said between gasps of laughter.

He laughed with you as he got up and escorted you to the register, paid for dinner without letting you even attempt to pay for your own meal, and followed you home.

***

It was almost like having to invite a very polite, very old school vampire into your home. He insisted that you tell someone you knew that you had someone over.

“Alright, alright,” you said as you texted your friend. When she texted back with a “pics or it didn’t happen”, you just sent her a snarky emoji and put your phone on silent.

You looked up to see Arthur looking around your shit hole of an apartment.

“Nice li’l place.”

You looked at him as if he were blind. “Thanks, I guess?”

He chuckled. “Darlin’, believe me, I truly think it’s nice.”

You smiled and led him to the couch and nearly pushed him down before straddling his legs. He seemed pleasantly surprised, as if he didn’t know where this night was going.

Did he know where this night was going? Did he think you were just going to make out with him and let him go?

Oh no. Not this hunk of man meat. No, you weren’t letting him go until you felt his cock deep inside of you.

Carding his hair with both hands, you leaned in and kissed his waiting lips, pressing your whole body against him. He let out a soft moan and wrapped his arms around you, his hands gliding along your body until he was gripping your hip and your neck. Holding you firmly in place, he began to take the lead, kissing you until you broke for air. He buried his fingers into your hair and pulled your head back gently to reveal the column of your neck. Immediately peppering your skin with hungry kisses, he let out a low rumble, almost like a purr.

You had successfully baited the beast. Now all you needed to do was convince him to go all the way. Widening your legs a little more, you gyrated your hips and grinded against him, feeling the bulge in his jeans grow harder.

Arthur suddenly pulled back, using his grip to angle your head so he could look directly at you. “Darlin’, you keep doin’ that, and I may lose control.”

“What if I want you to,” you teased.

He leaned forward and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his lips moving against your skin as he spoke. “I can be a li’l rough in bed.” He hugged you a little tighter. “I don’t want to scare you off.”

That was it? You were made of tougher stuff, and besides, this was exactly what you wanted. You tried, again and again, to tell him so, using everything you had to convince him, to break his resolve. After grinding on him and giving him heated kisses wherever you could along his neck and face, he finally relented.

“You sure?” he asked, staring at you intently.

“I’m sure,” you nearly whined, humping his lap like a wanton junkie looking for a fix. “You can manhandle me, spank me, hold me by the neck, just fuck me.”

Arthur’s eyes suddenly grew a shade darker as he stared at you, his lip curling, his nostrils flaring. A deep rumble emanated from his throat and for a moment you believed you had summoned a devil.

His light grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you closer. One hand slowly traveled up your body, over your belly, pausing at one of your breasts to give it a light squeeze before caressing your chest and then wrapping slowly around your neck. His grip was solid, but gentle. He didn’t squeeze, only held you in place.

“Take off yer shirt,” he ordered in a deep voice.

With his hand around your neck, you unbuttoned your blouse and flung it aside, pushing out your breasts, covered in your pink lace bra. He let go of your neck and hip to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples under the fabric. You leaned into his touch, moaning and writhing on his lap.

“Needy girl,” he murmured before pulling down the cups of your bra to reveal your bare skin. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking with a ravenous passion. One of his hands snaked down between you two, lifting up your skirt so he could graze his fingers along your slit. You whimpered, wanting to feel his finger against you directly without the damn fabric in the way. But when you moved one hand down, intending on moving your panties aside, he grabbed your wrist.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he growled.

You swallowed as you nodded, letting him put your hand back up on his shoulder. Then he pressed two fingers against your clit and you gasped at the zing of pleasure that zipped through your body. He rubbed you slowly, teasing you until you whimpered again, begging him with a look. His smile was wicked as he leaned forward and nipped your lower lip.

“Alright, I’ll give you what you need,” he rumbled. Slipping past the fabric, he began to stroke you directly.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hips moving against his fingers.

Arthur kissed you again, invading your mouth with his tongue, laying claim with a guttural moan. He removed his hand from your core and gripped your hips. With hardly any effort, he lifted you off his lap and stood you up before him.

“Strip.” A terse command, growled low.

You immediately obeyed, reaching behind yourself to unhook your bra. You started to turn around to tease him, but his legs trapped yours, preventing you from moving.

“Stay right there,” he rumbled, his hands on his belt. You completely forgot to continue stripping as you watched him unbuckle his belt. He slowly slid it out, lifting his hips casually as he pulled it away and tossed it aside. With his gaze completely locked onto yours, he unbuttoned his fly and unzipped oh so slowly, smirking at your unabashed attention. When he pulled out his cock, you nearly drooled.

“Want this, sweetheart?” He took himself in his hand and slowly stroked, up and down, the motion strangely hypnotic.

You nodded vigorously. Oh god, did you want it so badly.

He nodded towards your skirt. “Keep goin’ then.”

You fumbled with your skirt buttons, now so desperate to get your clothes off. You flung it aside and moved to drop your panties, but Arthur suddenly sat up and held your hands at your waist. 

“Lemme look at ya first,” he said, widening his legs and turning you around. His hands glided from your waist to your rear, giving them a playful squeeze before he spanked you.

“Oh!”

“You like that?”

”Yes, sir.”

He hummed approvingly. “Well, ain’tchu a good girl.” His fingers hooked onto the waistline of your panties and slid them down, casually taking his time to kiss a line along the curve of your backside as he went. When they were low enough for you to step out of them, he turned you around again and looked you up and down. After he looked his fill, he sat back and began to lazily stroke his cock again. He lifted his other hand and crooked his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion.

You fell to your knees, ready and willing to please him. When he smiled at you, you felt far more elation than what would be sane, but you didn’t care. He reached down and tipped up your chin, his thumb grazing along your lower lip.

“Been dreamin’ about yer pretty lips wrapped around my cock,” he whispered. “Ever since I saw yer profile.”

You felt incredibly happy hearing this from him. Leaning forward, you kissed the head of his shaft before taking it into your mouth, lifting your gaze to him as you did. His mouth was slightly open as he let out a shaky breath. 

Then you started sucking on him.

Arthur’s moans were like ambrosia to your ears. You just wanted to hear more and more of his pleasure, to know that he was enjoying what you were giving him. His hands tangled in your hair, holding it out of the way as you took in more and more of him with each bob of your head.

“I ain’t gonna last much longer,” he gritted out, his hips jerking slightly at your last attempt at a deep throat.

You gave one last long suck, finally letting him go with a soft pop from your lips. “Wouldn’t want the night to end so quickly, right?” you teased.

Arthur’s grin was dangerous. “Bedroom.”

You stood up to guide him to your bed, but he picked you up instead, lifting you over his shoulder like a caveman. There were only two other doors, and they were both open, so it didn’t take long for him to figure out where your bed was. He dropped you gently onto your mattress, giving you a fierce kiss before backing away to stand at the foot of your bed.

You watched as he dropped his pants, then his boxers, and then he pulled off his shirt. He had the muscles of a man who worked hard; his biceps were thick, his pectorals were nicely filled out, and though he didn’t have washboard abs, you could tell he had beastly strength. He had picked you up with ease; there was no way the man had a single weak muscle on his body.

Arthur crawled onto the bed, prowling towards you. Once he straddled your legs, he flipped you over and grabbed your arms. Maneuvering them to either side of you, elbows bent and your hands next to your face, he held you down by your wrists. He lowered himself down to nibble on the shell of your ear.

“You keep yer arms right there, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He let go of your wrists, but his hands stayed on you as he caressed up your arms, over the blades of your shoulders, down your back, and finally to the curve of your rear. With his big hands, he spread your slit open with his thumbs.

“So wet,” he said, running one of his thumbs along your folds. “You on the pill?”

“Yes,” you immediately answered. Of course you were; normally at this point you’d tell a man to put a condom on, but before you could even think to ask, he laid his cock along the curve of your ass. You felt how hot his flesh is, how big he is, how thick. You felt him lean down, his chest pressing against your back, his breath on your ear.

“Can I take you… just like this?”

When you hesitated, he added, “I’m clean. Been a long while since I’ve been with anyone, and I got myself checked after the last time.”

Meanwhile, his cock was pulsing against your skin. Your lust won; you wanted to feel that hard shaft railing you with nothing in between.

“Yes, please fuck me now!”

“Oh yes, princess,” Arthur murmured softly before pulling back, no longer pressing you against the mattress. He shifted his hips and angled himself before he pushed inside. He was slow at first, his breaths harsh as he controlled himself from just falling completely into you. 

You squirmed underneath him, lifting your hips in a silent plea for him to take you faster. He was being too damn gentle.

“Give it to me,” you whined.

Arthur leaned forward and wrapped a hand around your mouth. “Lemme enjoy this,” he growled as he continued his slow descent. “You want my cock that badly?”

You nodded, unable to speak.

“You want to be my li’l slut?”

You moaned hard. Yes, this is what you wanted. You lifted your hips, pushing back towards him. He slipped one hand underneath you to rub your clit, and you moaned louder.

“So fuckin’ wet… You really want it, don’tchu?”

“Mmm-hmmm!”

His control snapped completely from your insistent and muffled assent. He leaned back, grabbed your hips, and plunged himself inside of you with reckless abandon, fucking you into your bed until it creaked constantly in protest.

“You like it rough, princess? You like being used by me?”

“Yes, yes!” you cried. You reached back, wanting to touch him, to hold onto him.

Instead, he grabbed your arms and, using them like reins, pulled you back, arching your body. Taking your forearms behind your back, he gripped your wrists in one hand and reached out with the other to hold onto your neck.

“That’s it, moan fer me, darlin’.”

You let out one lewd moan after another, not caring that your neighbor was probably getting an earful tonight. 

“Good girl, my sweet li’l slut,” he purred. “Takin’ me so good.” He let go of your arms and neck to grip your hips. “Come fer me, I wanna feel it.”

You immediately reached down to stroke yourself, and it wasn’t even two seconds before you let out a ragged cry, your climax crashing over you so quickly that you forgot how to breathe. His dirty talk and the possessive way he was handling you was so hot, so naughty, so perfect.

Arthur thrust in and stayed still, letting you ride out your climax on his shaft, spasming around him. He held you close while you writhed below him until you nearly collapsed.

So, feeling as boneless as you did, he picked you up, his cock still inside of you, and took you over to the window. The curtains were closed, but they were thin, threadbare things, so when he pushed you up against the window, you could feel the cold glass beneath the fabric.

“A-Arthur?” you asked, dazed.

Without a word, he pumped his hips again, fucking you against the hard surface. With every movement, the curtains shifted, the slit between them shifting. At the right moment, someone could see in and see you getting railed from behind.

Your pussy clenched at the thought.

“That’s right, take my cock, show everyone that you’re mine, mine to use, mine to fuck.”

“Oh, oh, oh my god,” you gasped, your body heating up, the coil of desire tightening up so dizzyingly quick. You had no idea you had a slight exhibition fetish, but here you were, getting fucked against a window. 

Arthur reached around you to stroke your clit, and suddenly you were gone. Ecstasy flooded your senses and blocked out everything except for the sensation of Arthur possessing you, his thrusts strong and deep. His hands were warm where he held you, his finger deftly wringing out the most pleasure from your body that you had ever felt in your life.

As your climax ebbed and you began to slump over, Arthur gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek. He pulled gently out of you and guided you backwards, away from the cold window. Laying you back down on the bed, the soft mattress creaked as he got on top of you, caging you with his arms. His hands held your head, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks.

“That’s my girl. So good, comin’ fer me twice.”

Then his kind demeanor melted away and the beast returned. He sat up and spread your legs before entering you. You squirmed, your body oversensitive from your two consecutive climaxes, but Arthur held you down. His thrusts grew more intense, his hips moving faster.

“Yer so damn sexy, I wanna see you covered in my cum, darlin’, all yer holes filled with me.”

“Yes, yes!” you moaned, suddenly wanting that too. A desire, so dirty, so salacious, that you had never voiced or even formed into coherent thought, and now you knew exactly what you wanted.

Mark me as yours.

It was primal, raw, and you needed it so badly that you nearly cried from want.

“Arthur, please, cum all over me!”

“Fuck, darlin’!” He pulled out of you and gripped his cock, pumping twice before shooting his load all over your stomach and breasts. After a moment of catching his breath, he clambered up to straddle your torso, his cock near your face, his seed dripping from the tip.

“Taste it,” he commanded. Without hesitation you took him into your mouth and cleaned him up, lapping at his shaft until he pulled away with a moan.

“Good girl,” he said, running his clean hand through your hair. 

After tumbling over next to you, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, overwhelmed by how incredible this night had been.

***

You woke up, for the second time, in the late morning, sticky and sore. The first time you had woken up, it was dawn and Arthur had been rubbing his cock between your thighs while half-asleep. Once you had let him know you were awake, he rolled you on top of him and fucked you until he spilled inside of your pussy.

You didn’t regret a damn thing.

You felt Arthur caressing the curve of your rear and turned your head to look at him. He was lying on his side, his gaze on your ass.

“Next time, darlin’,” he promised as he patted your rear. “Yer comin’ to my place and I’ll fuck this hole too.” Without waiting for you to respond, he gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “You’ll like it, I guarantee, princess.” 

You just nodded. Now that you’ve had a taste of him, you know you’ll do whatever he wants.

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

End Notes: Holy shit, it’s been a while, eh? Hopefully y’all enjoy this, it’s a bit of a bait and switch, but let’s be real; any Arthur is a good Arthur in my book.

[thefanficmonster]

Daisy

Corpse Husband & Ashnikko!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A casual Discord call becomes interesting when Corpse finds out, in a rather peculiar way, that one of his best friends is a famous singer.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I apologize for the wait and I'm really sorry if this isn't what you had in mind - if so please let me know! Love, Vy ❤

"Hey, mind giving me feedback on the creepypasta I sent you like half an hour ago? I understand you need time to read through it and form an opinion but it's really not that long." Corpse suddenly asks, his voice breaking through the silence that had taken over the call for the past ten or so minutes.

Y/N hums in response, "Hm? What creepypasta?" Although she's trying her best to sound interested, it's blatantly obvious she's absent, her mind having flown elsewhere.

Corpse sighs, huffing out a small laugh to himself before replying, "If you're busy I'll leave you to it..."

"Oh no, not at all. I'm not busy, but I'm trying to be, I guess." She chuckles nervously, typing away at her keyboard. The sounds of the pressed keys so rhythmic and soothing it sounds almost like music.

"Why's that?" He asks, now being the absentminded one himself.

"So I can prevent myself from refreshing my new upload to see the views and likes on it. I know it's dumb but I just can't help myself." She replies, the built up frustration now leaking into her speech.

Corpse's eyebrows furrow as he quickly takes a look at his phone, scrolling the notifications on his lock screen, "You posted a video? How come I didn't get a notification?"

"Probably just the YouTube algorithm glitching out as it does..." She replies, a bit too quickly for it to not be perceived as suspicious but Corpse decides to brush it off, blaming it on the nervousness following the upload of a new cover which always catches onto Y/N. Girl can't catch a break for almost a week every time she posts a new cover despite the success they're all met with. "Hey, wanna give me an opinion on this verse I have written? Made a beat to it and all too..."

As much as he wants to be sarcastic and bring up her failiure when it came to rating his creepypasta, he can't do it, not when she sounds so sweet and a tad bit anxious. She's never been a fan of asking for second opinions but then again she could never gather the courage to post it without asking someone for one. That's the struggle she has to go through every time, fighting her way with the contradicting mindsets that have invaded her head and live there rent-free.

"Let's hear it." He says encouragingly, taking hold of his phone, expecting a recording of the verse in question.

Much to his surprise, after a quick inhale, she starts singing.

'Drop to the knees, slap to the face playing around with leather and lace a picture of desire in a field of fire thinking you got the jackpot cause you know the good cop stick around and see how bad the dirty cop can be fuck around and find out what this bitch got up her sleeve.'

It's an understatement to say the man's been floored. He's flabbergasted with his jaw agape, eyes wide and mind racing. Never did he think such words could ever leave this timid girl's lips.

"Wow...what was that?" He blurts out before he could think twice about it.

"Just something I wrote. I've been thinking about making an extension to a the original song I put out last year." She explains casually, only afterwards realizing how she's exposed herself. She superstitiously crosses her fingers under her desk, hoping Corpse won't catch onto it.

"Wait, what song?" Unfortunately but not at all surprisingly, he notices.

"Do you like it or not?" Y/N expertly dodges the question, knowing she's bound to come clean sooner or later in this convo.

"I like it, I like it, but I think the beat and the theme of the lyrics are a bit too similar to that one song..." he ponders for a moment, murmuring as he tries to recall the name of said song, one Y/N knows quite well, "Right! Daisy, by Ashnikko I think? With how YouTube is nowadays, you'd be running the risk of getting a copyright strike, but apart from that the verse is amazing. I can't believe you wrote that!"

Y/N's eyebrows furrow halfway in confusion but also in mild offense, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sensing her suspicions, he hurries to explain himself, "Well, for starters, you don't even curse in your streams so..."

"I don't wanna get demonetized! I have bills I need to pay!" She replies, wheezing with laughter at the inside joke who she's only in on.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry for assuming you were so innocent. I guess you aren't, after all." He admits, nodding his head, lifting his hands up in surrender.

"Wait till you hear that the entirety of the song 'Daisy' belongs to me. I wrote that. I wrote the majority of Slumber Party, etc." She casually drops the bomb, allowing Corpse the access to the inside joke, giving him the honor of being the first of that kind.

However, as expected, it takes him a few moments, close to half a minute to gather what he's been told and have his brain slowly process it bit by bit. In the meantime, Y/N has to mute her mic as to not disrupt said process with her giggles that just keep on coming the more she tries to suppress them.

"Run that by me again, please?! Please come again, I don't think I heard or understood you right." He finally says, his voice suggesting just how out of it he is at the moment, still stuck in his own little world where none of this makes sense.

"Oh hun, I'm sure you heard me just fine, but the understanding part is what's not sitting right with you, correct?" She asks, fighting the urge to use an entitled and arrogant British accent, "Well, to help you out, allow me to ask you a question: have you or any of our friends ever seen my face?"

There's another long pause before Corpse gives Y/N the most underwhelming response she's ever heard in response to this specific reveal. Well, it's not like she has much to compare it to, but still.

"Oh...." He says, voice trailing off as the gears in his head are clearly not done turning yet.

"Yeah...." She does the same, unsure of what else to say or how else to take this reaction.

"MY FRIEND IS A FUCKING SUPERSTAR!!!"

Ah, there it is.

"Corpse....no!"

"WOOOO FUCKING HOOOO!"

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