Chapter Text
When zandik first started really getting good at his studies, 65 or 35 would sometimes ask for his help, but even then, they still saw him as inferior.
What was the point of getting up early and helping them, when they didn’t want him there?
Zandik lay in bed aggressively stroking his dick, 1 in the afternoon, no one would even notice he’d slept so long.
He had his own private bedroom, as all segments did. They were all in the laboratory so no one had to leave.
Zandik moaned as he came for the first time that day, letting his own mess ruin his fingers. He considered a shower this morning, but decided against it.
He got up and changed into his akadamiya uniform, he prefers wearing it, the other segments are probably jealous he can still fit.
He’s always been a bit more easily distracted than other segments, the only person closest to his age is 25, but his attitude is dreadful, thinks he’s better cause he’s older.
He can’t ever imagine himself ever becoming so annoying and monotonous, but then again, he won’t ever age out of this anyway.
Zandik walked into a research area to get his notebook on the shelf, ready to start his own experiment without anyone bothering him.
It was a short lived peace.
45, of course. Atleast it wasn’t 35.
“ and where have you been? Slacking off, or locking yourself away with books?” 45 asked, turning a corner. His tone seemed sincere, but all knew he was mocking him.
“ I was tired, I couldn’t sleep last night so I slept in today.” 18 sighed, walking to a table with his research. They probably all knew what he was doing. They’re the same person.
“ you’ve been sleeping in for a couple of weeks now. More tired then usual, from all the work you don’t do?” 45 chuckled, grabbing a book and walking off, leaving the room and closing the door.
While 45 may be laughing, 35 and 65 are most certainly not, they’re probably waiting to pass 18 in the hallway to lecture him. They should know he’s never going to change, no segment ever does.
The original zandik always would tell the Regrator about how passionate he was for his studies at 18s age, but 18 knew whole heartedly that was a lie, he had passion, yes. But spending days not sleeping or eating for a research project?…extreme.
Sitting down to eat lunch was one of his favorite parts of the day, giving his eyes a break from reading. And of course, spending the remainder of his lunch time locked in his room, stroking to whatever bullshit he finds on his monitor, 45s technology is truly a blessing.
Maybe he was too preoccupied, because as he was in his own head, he spilled some ink on his paper. Honestly he could care less…but he knew he worked hard on this research, he was sure he used to care about these kinds of things, get angry when his research was interrupted like this.
Now? It was just an excuse to go back to his room to get some back up notes, where he can also conveniently fondle himself through his pants.
He lean against his desk, still standing, one arm holding the back up notes and gripping the desk, as his face contorted in pleasure as his other hand played with his dick through the clothing.
An amazing pregame, a great way to edge himself, or so he’s read. The one thing he had the most trouble with, was choosing what he wanted to imagine as he did this, as he did any of it actually.
He liked exaggerating his own reactions, made his feel so much better, he didn’t know why. It was embarrassing, sometimes. But still, he’d sit there and imagine how he probably looked right now, desperate, attention seeking, drooling from his hands just fondling his pants. Was that weird? Fantasizing about yourself? He didn’t care anyway.
He didn’t wanna stop, he’d even let go of the back up notes at one point to grip the desk better.
Oh..fuck, he’d love someone to find him like this, stupid, so fucking pathetic, he’d have no way of explaining what he’s doing.
He moaned straight into the air, more of a whimper, it wasn’t even purely from pleasure, he wanted to moan.
It wasn’t enough, though. He wanted to touch himself more. Ouh, he needed more so badly…they were gonna fucking kill him, he had research to do, but his dick was so much stronger then he was, straight up pulsing, he breathed shakily into the air as he undid his pants, hands immediately reaching for his dick, cause whatever the fuck it wanted, it got.
Tears already clouding his eyes, he wanted so much so quickly. His arm was so fucking fast, it stroked desperately, begging and begging for more, his own body wanting to hear himself moan shakily into the empty air.
He staggered back, head tilted to the ceiling. Behind him he leaned on the edge of his bed, hand fucking him so hard he genuinely moaned louder then he thought, and the way his heart started racing at the thought of someone just hearing made his dick harder, it practically jumped.
Fuck, if any segment walks in on him he’s gonna cum right on the fucking floor, seriously. His right mind tells him to stop being a pathetic bastard and lock the fucking door, but his dick wants to be noticed for once.
Whoever walks in, don’t let it be 65, oh..he wants it to be 45, he’d laugh at 18 pathetically, but still have some compassion, because that’s how he is, he cares for 8, he tries to care for 18, in all honesty 18 just begs for attention from anyone like a whore.
“..ouh fuck…that’s exactly what I am..” 18 breathed into the air, hand starting to cramp from the speeds he was going.
“ your what?”
“ WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOuah-“ 18s shocked shouts trailed off into a desperate ass moan as he came into his hand, white staining his vision for a moment eyes involuntarily going to the back of his head.
Omega just stay there, leaning against the doorway. Watching 18 slowly come back to earth, fuck can’t he turn around or something?
18 picked up his pants from his knees ignoring the fact he got semen all over. “ what the hell are you doing?! Can’t I have some fucking privac-“ 18s panicked jabbering got interrupted by 35s much too calm attitude.
“ some privacy? You have privacy, you ruined it by moaning like a slut when Me and pantalone are trying to settle a business dispute.” Omega watched 18s face turn red, his hair slick to his forehead from sweat.
18s heart was beating out of his chest, this time not of pleasure, but embarrassment. He wasn’t being serious when he wanted someone to walk in..it was just a fucking fantasy.
Omega took 18s silence as his turn to speak. “ you shouldn’t even be doing that in the first place, you have work piled higher then Everest. Though maybe this is something that should be taken into further study.” Omega said, looking at him, hand to his chin like he always does.
18 immediately stiffened, eyes turning intensely.
“ what the fuck is there to study?! Just ignore it, alright?” 18 was out of breath, heart rate still high.
“ the original zandik had apparently never struggled with chronic masturbation, we have to observe this closely.”
“It’s not fucking chronic!”
“ you do this multiple times a day, and your last few reports had semen on the paper. It is most certainly chronic.” Omega fixed his gloves, looking at the mess 18 was.
“ and do take a shower, your giving me a bad reputation. You give all of us bad reputations.”
Fuck him, he probably liked watching anyway.
And yes, he did touch himself again in the shower, slower though, for some reason he didn’t have a lot of energy anymore.
Now 18 sat in his misery of having to sign paperwork and documents, omegas job usually..but he did not want any other segments knowing he was a pathetic ass incel gooner who’s afraid of real human interactions, so he had to offer to kindly to this work for him.
Right next to him? 45 had 8 on his lap, 8 was showing off some stupid bullshit 18 couldn’t bother to look at, while 45 nodded like he cared, smile placed on his face, which might have been genuine, 18 wasn’t sure.
Across the table, Pantalone. He insisted on waiting here in the lab to collect the documents, really, it was probably because he wanted to play daddy and mommy with 45 since they both liked caring for 8 so fucking much.
He didn’t smoke infront of 8 often, but he did sometimes, like now. He pointed to things in the paper drawings on the table, and act like he didn’t know what they were do 8 could explain them, and 45 would laugh lightly. Queers.
If 18 hadn’t jerked it 3 times already, he’d be hard as shit just being able to smell pantalone, but his dick was tired of the abuse, he supposed.