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supernovafics · 6 months ago

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k words

warnings: explicit language, a bit of angst, (nothing else really?)

summary: game night at the apartment proves that you and steve are a surprisingly good team

CHAPTER FOUR | ❝𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅❞

Fall Semester 2015

Your first thought was that maybe you heard him wrong.

But, it was pretty hard to hear the sentence, “I have a crush on a girl in my Statistics class” wrong.

You wondered how you looked right then. You felt surprised— more so absolutely stunned— but you hoped that Eddie couldn’t see that, and you were quickly turning your head away from him to make sure of it. You pretended that you suddenly needed to grab something from your bag that sat next to you on the bench you two were sitting on, which was right outside the building that you needed to be in in ten minutes for your last class of the day.

You pulled out your water and took a long, tentative sip from the bottle as you simply nodded at Eddie’s statement.

Your mind was blank, but you knew that you needed to say something in response to his happily spoken words. All you could think right then was that this was inevitable. Of course, he’d end up liking someone, and of course, it would happen sooner rather than later.

Selfishly, you had hoped it would be you. Now you just felt pretty stupid.

“That’s cool,” You finally said as you placed your water bottle in your lap. “What’s her name?”

“Chrissy,” Eddie answered. “At first, it just felt like a dumb crush because we only sat next to each other on the first day of class and I borrowed a pen from her, and that was the only time we talked. But we were grouped together on this project and we got to know each other a lot over the past couple of weeks.”

He was smiling the entire time he talked and he looked so damn happy; the kind of happy that if the circumstances were the tiniest bit different, you would’ve felt just as happy for him too.

You wondered if this was how he had looked for the last few weeks, and if you somehow completely missed it; completely missed any and all of the signs of him slowly falling for someone right before your eyes.

You replayed the past few weeks in your mind to see if you had somehow missed the obvious, but nothing seemed like it had been too different from the normal that you and Eddie had developed since you became friends. Most of your nights were still spent across the hall in his dorm room whenever your roommate was being annoying, and most of your nights still consisted of him showing you songs from a band he loved or you making him watch a movie that was one of your favorites but he had somehow never seen before.

“We both equally suck at Statistics, so we probably did horrible on the project, but we’re going on a date next Friday,” Eddie told you and you only nodded in response.

You needed to say actual words, it had been way too long since you’d spoken, but you had no idea what would be the right thing to say. You could’ve said that the timing for the date made perfect sense, it was right after finals and the semester would be over too so there wouldn’t be any school stress, but the words wouldn’t form on your lips, nothing would.

You were suddenly glad that you had a class in a few minutes because that meant that you had a plausible reason to end the conversation and head inside of the old building that was to your left. This would probably be the first time that you wouldn’t despise sitting through an hour-long European History lecture.

“That’s great, Eds,” You said and forced a smile that you hoped seemed genuine. You put your water back in your bag and then slung it over your shoulder. “I need to head to class. The professor is an asshole when it comes to people being late and I don’t want him to start hating me now when there’s only two more classes left. So, I’ll see you later and you have to tell me more about, um, Chrissy.”

Eddie nodded, still smiling. “Yeah, definitely, I think you’d like her.”

“Cool,” You said as you stood up from the bench. “See you later.”

You gave him a final smile before turning away and heading inside the building where your class was. You let out a soft sigh and felt the fake smile drop from your face as you pulled open the obnoxiously heavy door and walked toward the elevators.

For the first time probably ever, you actually wanted to pay full attention to what your professor was droning on and on about because it would help push your thoughts away from everything else. But your mind was a traitor and it only wanted to focus on everything that Eddie had just said to you.

It was just a first date, but there was something about the way he smiled as he talked about her and how happy he seemed about everything that let you know that one date wouldn’t be the end of it.

You kept telling yourself that you were thinking way too far ahead for no reason— most first dates ended up going nowhere anyway. But sometimes it actually felt better to prepare for the worst than simply hope for the best.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

The tradition started when Talia brought home Monopoly in October.

In hindsight, what should have happened following that night was it should’ve made you all realize that playing games together was a horrible idea. Because what ensued that night was six hours of near friendship-ending arguments and competitiveness. The only reason why Robin ended up winning was because by three in the morning, everyone else was sick of arguing and just wanted to go to sleep— Eddie had tapped out at midnight and fell asleep on the couch as the rest of you kept playing around the coffee table for a few more hours.

Instead of that night scaring you all away from ever wanting to play any sort of game with one another again, it was simply decided that you all just wouldn’t play Monopoly again— except on super rare occasions— and you’d do a once a month game night with other games instead. Because even though a monthly game night with the five of you sounded very deadly, it also sounded very fun.

It was a weird kind of environment that you were actually a little scared to throw Steve into. However, at this point, it had to happen. Mainly because you were already waving at him as he walked across the parking lot of your apartment building and headed toward you.

“I’m just now realizing that you’re probably gonna hate me for putting you through all of this tonight,” You said once Steve was close enough to you and started stepping through the door you pushed open for him. “Just remember that you wanted to come.”

“Hello to you too,” He said as he started walking with you toward the elevators at the end of the hall. “How scary is this game night gonna be? Does the loser get murdered at the end or something?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about the fifth roommate we had who was really terrible at charades so we had to sacrifice her. It was a whole thing. Don’t tell anyone, though,” You said and he let out a laugh at that. You shook your head after a second. “No, but things just get intense and stupidly competitive, so this might actually be the worst way for you to meet everyone.”

“I can get really competitive too.”

You couldn’t entirely tell if he was joking or not, but you still nodded anyway. “Okay, in that case, you’ll fit right in.”

“So, I know Eddie was fine with me coming,” Steve started as you two waited for the elevator; it would either take ten seconds to come or five minutes, somehow there was never any in-between. “But was everyone else?”

Surprisingly enough, Robin, Vickie, and Talia were actually completely okay with it— maybe even too okay with it. A part of you expected it to be the opposite because, even though it was never outwardly stated that game night was a “sacred” thing, it did feel like something that was meant just for the five of you. However, they wanted to meet Steve because it was unanimously agreed that you wanting to bring him to game night was a huge deal.

“Yeah, they’re fine with it too. And they really want to meet you,” You answered, the elevator doors opening as you spoke. You both stepped in and you pressed “7” and then kept talking. “None of us ever want to bring other people to game night, so me asking you to come is kind of a big deal in their eyes.”

“Okay, that’s good. They believe we like each other.”

“Actually, since we’re seeing each other four days in a row now, they think we’re madly in love,” You told him with a laugh and roll of your eyes. You had to admit, though, if the tables were turned you would be thinking the exact same thing for any of them.

“Honestly, that makes sense,” Steve responded. “I’ve never seen a girl I just met multiple days in a row, and I probably never would unless I was really into her.”

“Or unless you want to fake date her.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that would also count.”

The elevator ride was quick and it wasn’t until you and Steve were a few feet away from your apartment and moments away from stepping inside that you thought about something.

You abruptly stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Shit, I should probably brief you on everyone so you can make a good impression or whatever. You obviously already know Eddie so I don’t need to tell you anything about him. But, anyway, Robin’s probably gonna be a little mean to you at first, but it’s only because she wants to play the “overprotective parent” role right now, not because she doesn’t like you. If she actually doesn’t like you she won’t talk to you for the rest of the night after the first conversation. And then Vickie—”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do this,” Steve interrupted with a quick shake of his head. “I’m good at making people like me.”

There was the smallest part of you that wanted to roll your eyes at him saying that, but instead, you simply nodded. “Okay, but just don’t be too charming and nice, I know they’ll definitely hate that.”

He looked at you, confused. “They’ll hate it if I’m too nice?”

You nodded immediately. “Yes, because it’ll seem fake. Just be, like… averagely nice.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” You shrugged. “Just be normal, I guess.”

You stepped closer to the unlocked door, but before you pushed it open, you reached out to grab Steve’s hand and linked it with yours. You noticed him glance down at your now intertwined hands and then give you a look that you couldn’t decipher.

“What?” You asked.

“You hated holding hands with me last night.”

“I was way too in my head then,” You told him. “I feel better about everything now. Kinda. And everyone already thinks we really like each other, so we need to look like it.”

“So, you won’t cringe again if I put my arm around you?”

“Nope, we’re dating so I’d actually love it if you did that,” You told him and plastered on a sweet smile.

Steve laughed a bit. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Also, I didn’t cringe when you did it last night. I was just surprised.”

He gave you an amused look. “Okay, sure.”

“And by the end of the night, I was much more okay and normal about it,” You added.

Before he could potentially say anything in response to your words, you were putting an abrupt end to the conversation and finally opening the apartment door with your free hand.

Everyone was still in the same spot that they had been in when you left to get Steve— settled in the living room on the small couch and loveseat, and a handful of board games scattered on the coffee table.

“Everyone, this is Steve,” You said, grabbing their collective attention and keeping the introduction as simple as possible. “Steve, this is everyone. Talia, Robin, and Vickie.” You pointed them out in that order and then you gestured to Eddie who was sitting on the couch next to Vickie. “And you already know Eddie.”

Quick “Hi’s” and “Hello’s” were said along with friendly smiles and Steve returned it all with a smile and “Hey, nice to meet you guys” of his own. It was a little hard to pretend that this didn’t feel entirely weird and out of place. The first time you were introducing your friends to a guy, and of course it was a guy that you were pretending to like and be with. And instead, the guy that you actually wanted to be with was only feet away and still felt entirely unattainable.

You were moments away from suddenly spiraling and overthinking everything that you were currently doing, but you didn’t get the chance to do so because Robin was standing up and joining you and Steve by the now shut front door.

“Can I steal him for a sec?”

You nodded as you dropped Steve’s hand. “Be nice, Rob.”

She only smiled at you in response.

You walked over to the couch, joining everyone else, and leaned against the arm of it. “Did you guys finally decide on what we’re playing first?”

“We will be starting things off with a heated game of Pictionary,” Vickie answered.

“I personally wanted to play charades first, but I was sadly outvoted,” Talia told you.

“I would’ve voted with you, Tal,” You said.

She smiled at that and then looked at Eddie and Vickie. “Shall we do a revote?”

Eddie shook his head, laughing a bit. “One vote won’t change the outcome.”

“Exactly,” Vickie said with a nod.

“But,” Talia started. “Steve will probably also vote our way, for obvious reasons, and then it’ll be three against three.”

You turned your attention away from the brewing argument, which you knew would only be the first of many for the night, and looked at Robin and Steve.

Apparently, Robin was done with doing the overprotective parent spiel because she was laughing and nodding at something Steve had said, and you truly wondered what they were talking about. Maybe he really wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he was good at making people like him.

She said one final thing to him and then turned away, meeting your eyes and mouthing a “He’s cool” to you before taking her spot back next to Vickie on the couch.

Instead of waving Steve over to where you were still leaning against the arm of the couch, you went over to him. You wanted to ask what Robin had just said to him— it was pretty clear that the short conversation went perfectly fine but you were still curious— but Steve spoke before you could.

“It smells really good in here.”

“Yeah, Talia made cinnamon rolls,” You said and gestured to where they sat in the kitchen, still cooling on the stove. “Definitely eat one later if you want an easy way for her to like you.”

“Got it.”

“What did Robin say to you?”

“I was told to never speak about any of what was said,” He told you, giving you a small teasing smile. “But, I’ll say that even though I’ve never seen The Godfather, that conversation is what I imagine that movie is like.”

“What? The Godfather? She was literally laughing and smiling.”

“That was way after she told me in a very serious voice that she’d castrate me if I ever hurt you,” He responded and then immediately rolled his eyes at himself when he realized that he accidentally just told you what was supposed to be “never spoken about.” “Shit.”

You let out a laugh. “If this was a normal situation, I think my friend threatening to cut off your dick would’ve immediately scared you off.”

“Yes, it for sure would’ve, but good thing this isn’t a normal situation.”

“Great thing.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time probably ever, winning any game tonight wasn’t what was mainly on your mind.

If this was any other game night, you would’ve joined in the argument about how the points were being stupidly disturbed during the Mario Kart tournament, or the one about Eddie and Talia accidentally, on purpose, going over the time during two of their rounds for charades, which they both vehemently denied even though the evidence was pretty clear.

However, tonight, you were worried about other things. Worried about if you looked more comfortable with Steve than how you felt last night at the bar. If you looked like you were “madly in love” with him like everyone had playfully assumed you were. If any of what you two were doing even seemed believable to your friends.

“Everything’s going fine,” Steve had assured you during the first brief “intermission” that happened after the final round of Pictionary. You two were grabbing cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, as per his request. You loved anything that Talia made, but you weren’t really in the mood to eat, so you just stood by as Steve ate his. “You’re thinking too much.”

“I keep forgetting that you’ve only known me for four days, but overthinking things is kind of my default setting,” You responded.

You broke his gaze and turned your head, immediately spotting Eddie across the room. He smiled at you when his eyes met yours and you instinctively smiled back and then just as quickly looked away because you were certain that your mind would head down another spiraling path if you looked at him any longer.

For the most part, though, you were still having fun. Kinda.

After brutally losing at Pictionary, Steve was not lying when he said that he sucked at drawing, you and him were actually good at other stuff. Robin and Vickie won almost everything— whenever they paired up together on game nights they were always a pretty much unstoppable team— but you and Steve were at least able to come in second place for most of the games.

He also wasn’t lying when he said that he was pretty competitive too. He fit in almost too perfectly with the chaotic energy of everyone else and it was surprising but also nice to see. It was probably the only part of the night that didn’t worry you.

“You were right. Tonight went well,” You told Steve as you walked him to his car at the end of the night. The time was close to midnight, but it didn’t necessarily feel that late. “I think we’re actually pretty good at this.”

“Games or fake dating?”

“Surprisingly both.”

It was quiet for a second and then you were breaking the silence with something other than the “Bye” that probably should’ve been said.

“I meant to ask this earlier, but have you told your parents about “us” yet?”

“Not yet, but I’ll probably do it in a day or two. We don’t talk that often.”

“Okay, so I’ll hold off on stressing out about having to meet them,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Honestly, this entire night felt like you met my family.”

“Seriously?” He asked.

You gave him a quick nod in response. “Yeah, I was pretty nervous about how all of this would go earlier.”

“So what would it feel like meeting your actual parents?”

You thought about his question for a second, but you couldn’t think of a simple enough answer that would sum up every thought that suddenly came to mind.

“I don’t know, honestly,” You shrugged. You could’ve explained further— talked about how the relationships with your friends somehow made much more sense, and at times felt even more significant, than the relationships you had with your parents— but you didn’t want to say any of that right then, and Steve didn’t ask you to elaborate, so you didn’t.

Another stretch of silence prevailed and if you really wanted to, you could’ve come up with something to say, but the conversation simply felt as if it was at its natural end.

You were suddenly realizing that you weren’t sure what you and Steve were aside from fake boyfriend and girlfriend. This didn’t necessarily feel like a friendship because you still felt as if you barely knew him, but the two of you definitely weren’t fully strangers anymore either.

In the weirdest way what you two were doing felt equivalent to a group project; forced together for specific circumstances and once it was done that would be it.

“Okay… Well, see you later, partner,” You said before realizing that he didn’t know about the group project analogy that you just thought of.

Steve gave you an amused smile and nodded. “Yeah, see you later.”

You decided against watching him get in his car and drive away, and you instead rolled your eyes at yourself for letting things end on the weirdest note as you headed back into your building. You were a little tired, but any hint of it went away when you walked in the apartment and spotted Eddie in the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

“I’m assuming everyone immediately went to bed,” You said as you joined him in the kitchen and grabbed the final cinnamon roll that was left.

“Yup,” Eddie said, pulling out a water from the fridge and then closing it. “Somehow I don’t feel tired at all, though.”

“We can watch a couple episodes of the show they watched Friday night if you want. Apparently, it’s absolutely terrible, but in a good way,” You suggested, not at all thinking about your class in the morning or needing to wake up at a decent time for it. “You’re staying over, right?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be the fifth roommate for the night and camp out on the couch.”

“Okay, so it’s decided. Shitty reality TV until we fall asleep,” You said and he nodded in agreement.

You both settled on the couch and Eddie was the one to grab the blanket that was draped against the back of the couch and toss it over your laps. The show was easy to make fun of and laugh at and barely thirty minutes into the first episode you completely understood why Robin, Vickie, and Talia had been obsessed with watching it.

“So you really like Steve?”

You were surprised by the randomness of Eddie’s question and for a second you thought that you somehow imagined it.

“Yeah, um, I think so, yeah,” You answered after what you hoped didn’t feel like too long of a silence. “He’s really great.”

“That’s cool,” Eddie responded, and you met his eyes then. He had a certain look on his face that you weren't able to decipher. For a moment, you thought it was jealousy, but you quickly thought against it when you remembered that this whole thing probably wasn’t going to be that easy.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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hotteoki · 8 months ago

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meet uglys with stray kids (hyung line)

pairing: skz hyung line x reader (no prns used)

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, humour

cw: language, throwing up/sickness, mentions of alcohol

wc: 1.9k

notes: it's been way too long since i've written stray kids fics... this was originally going to be arguments with skz maknae line but it got too difficult to write so here's a new fic! hopefully i can get maknae line out by 18th! p.s. this wasn't proofread at all so i'm sorry if it's ridden with mistakes...

chan (방찬) – greeting the new neighbour but turns out he slept at 5 last night

you had heard from jeongin, who lives across the street, that you’re getting a new neighbour

he had texted you about it mid conversation when telling you how to handle his house while he’s gone for his week-long vacation

truth was you hadn’t even considered greeting your soon-to-be neighbour

one, what if they hated you and you would have to be stuck with them for ages?

the only reason you’re even friends with jeongin is because he went around the neighbourhood holding up a cat asking if anyone lost it

(turns out it was a flea ridden stray but you both took it to the vet nevertheless)

two, you were quite comfortable laying in your bed

but ten more annoying texts from jeongin saying you should greet them because he did was enough to get you to make your way to their house

knocking on the door, you feel your palms get sweaty

you’re already regretting this

after one or two minutes of standing outside, you internally yell at them for making you look like an idiot

you’re about to leave until the door opens

revealing a man in his mid to late-twenties

wearing nothing but a tank top and sweats

with very prominent biceps

that are being put on display right now

you’ve probably been ogling at the man for a while now

shaking your head a little, you smile warmly at him

“hi, i’m your neighbou-”

“what time is it now?”

you blink a few times

you had just been interrupted by this hot neighbour, and his attitude was a little too sour for your liking

you aren’t sure which to address first

so it ends up with you going–

“huh?”

“what time is it now?”

he enunciates

“uhh…”

you pull out your phone

“9:20am”

“right. 9:20am and you’re already banging on my door”

you’re thrown so off guard

“i’m sorry, what?”

to be honest, you’re getting fed up with his condescending tone

“stores are up and running and kids are playing in the park playgrounds, maybe you’re the problem here”

you cross your arms, cause who does this man think he is?

this time it’s his turn to shake his head

“fuck- i mean- i’m sorry, i just- i slept at like 6 last night- or morning, and i just-”

he rubs his face

“i’m sorry”

you smile, a little strained

“it’s fine. i’ll see you around.”

even after him apologising you’re feeling slightly petty

so you turn around and begin to make your way home

chan feels horrible

except he’s running on like 3 hours on sleep so he honestly can’t process anything

so in his last efforts he grabs your arm gently

“wait, i’m sorry. c-can we- can i make it up to you over lunch tomorrow? you can show me around as well”

you contemplate

he did seem genuine enough

so you nod, smiling

“that sounds nice, what’s your name again?”

“i’m chan, what’s yours?”

and after you give it to him, he repeats it outloud, testing it out

the giddy feeling in your chest rises unwillingly

and maybe that lunch turns into a date, and maybe that date has a follow up, and maybe that follow up turns into a relationship

and maybe jeongin spends the rest of his life saying “i told you so”

but that’s a problem for future you to handle

minho (민호) – vomiting on him while drunk

you were initially against following jisung into the club

but he insisted you need to live life, and that it’s a saturday and you need to, quote unquote

“PARTAYYYYYYY”

to be fair, exams just ended and you have been spending the last couple of months holed in your room studying

so you agreed

he promised you he would look after you

don’t trust a drunk jisung

half an hour in and you’re absolutely wasted

you can’t remember when you stumbled into the toilets

but you’re hitting your fist on the door, yelling for whoever was inside to:

“STOP SHITTING FOR TWO SECONDS I NEED TO PUKE”

probably not the best way to tell someone to hurry up

but fortunately for you, the door opened

but not so fortunately for you, you vomit all over the guy

whose first reaction was

“what the actual fuck?!”

in his defence sober you would probably have reacted the same way

but again

you’re wasted

so you yell back at him

“what the actual fuck back to you!”

you push him aside and continue vomiting into the toilet bowl

minho’s conflicted

does he help you? even though you puked all over him, he still feels bad that you’re clearly trying to vomit but aren’t steady enough to support yourself

so he sighs, cursing under his breath

he hastily wipes clean his shoes and squats down to hold you by your shoulders so you’re facing the toilet bowl and not the floor

you would’ve thanked him if you aren’t hurling your guts out right now

after what feels like hours, you’re finally done

and minho washes his hands quickly, ready to leave

except you tug weakly on his pants

“m’sorr…”

he blinks, squatting down to hear you better

you clear your throat, a bit more sober now that the alcohol is out of your system

“m’sorry. i’ll- i’ll pay for the- the- the cleaning”

minho brushes the sweaty strands of hair from your face

“yeah you better”

his tone is soft, though

like he’s careful not to upset you

cause you look like you’re about to burst into tears

you smile weakly

“you’re soooo hot”

okay maybe you aren’t fully sober yet

he’s thrown off guard

“um… thanks?”

you giggle drunkenly

“you probably get tha’ a loooot”

he tilts his head, not sure how to respond

“i… guess?”

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts

“ca’ i get your n’mber?”

it takes him a few seconds to understand what you’re trying to say

which is a little awkward because he’s essentially just staring at you

you clear your throat to break the silence

“t’ like… pay for your clean’ng”

he nods, finally understanding

“yeah, sure”

and that’s how you got your future boyfriend’s number

he brings it up every now and then just to see you get embarrassed

which he thinks is absolutely adorable :(

changbin (창빈) – he left the tap on and water leaked into your apartment ceiling

you’re minding your own business

flicking through different films to decide what to watch

well, you were

until a drop of water drips on your tv

at first you thought you were hallucinating

except another water drop falls on it

so you look up at the ceiling

because you’re confused as hell??

you notice a huge splotch of water

and it won’t stop dripping

you’re about to scream

this is a brand new tv and they do not come cheap

so you calculate which apartment was upstairs

and sprint up

you’re surprised the elevator button didn’t break from how hard you’re pressing the button

you run to the perpetrator’s door, knocking on it rapidly

you’re about to yell for them to open their door until you feel a timid tap on your shoulder behind you

swinging around, becoming face to face with a very attractive, very muscular, but very scared looking man

“c-can i help you?”

you normally would’ve been nicer to strangers, except this man is literally breaking your tv

“you have a water leak and it’s breaking my tv!!!!!”

he begins to panic

“i’m so sorry!! i must’ve left the tap on or something i-”

he’s rambling while he unlocks his door

you peek over his shoulder when he opens the door

huh

there’s… no water at all?

he seems confused too

but then he walks over to his bathroom, opening the door

aaaaand there it is

a pool of water immediately spills out, creating a puddle around him

he quickly turns off the overflowing tap, smacking himself in the forehead with his palm

“god… i’m so, so, so sorry… if your tv’s broken i’ll… i’ll pay for a new one”

he rubs his eyes, looking at you apologetically

“i’m really sorry for this whole mess”

you stare at him expressionlessly

“i’ll check to see if it’s broken… uh… i’ll text you if it is, or something”

you’re thinking of what to do

you’re definitely not getting distracted by the sight of this attractive man in a tight-fitting black tee that compliments his torso nicely

he nods, “yeah i’ll uh, i’ll give you my number so you can… yeah, here”

he’s holding out his contact page

you copy down his number on your phone

smiling awkwardly, you turn around and wave goodbye

but of course, your messages with him won’t end with a “tv’s not broken! :)”

hyunjin (현진) – my dog hates you so i hate you too

it’s a regular friday afternoon

you clutch your dog’s leash in your hand, bopping your head to the beat of the music blasting in your earphones

you didn’t even notice her happily running over to another dog

until you take your phone out to switch to another song

you look up momentarily and did a double take

cause why on earth is a tiny chihuahua full on ATTACKING your dog

she never stood a chance

she runs back to you and hide behind your legs

you take out your earphones to tell the chihuahua’s owner off

except he looks even more terrified than you

you stare at him, waiting for him to do something

he seems to snap out of it and pulls his chihuahua away, leaning down to give him a snack for him to calm down

you give your own dog a few pets to soothe her before looking back at the chihuahua’s owner

damn

you didn’t get a proper look at him before

but now that you have

damn

he’s hot

but after seeing how scared your dog is

you can’t help but get a little annoyed at him

you might have been giving him the stink eye subconsciously because he begins to apologise profusely

“i’m sorry, he’s not very fond of people… or other dogs… or me… he’s not very fond of anything in general, if i’m honest”

he’s stumbling over his words

and even though you’re still miffed

you can’t help but feel a little bad for judging him

“yeah, that’s fair enough”

there’s an awkward silence that you’re pretty sure your dog can sense too because she starts whining

so you give him one more smile

“well, see you around”

hyunjin decides he’s not going to fumble the bag

because you’re seriously the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life

“wait! what’s your name? we could… i don’t know, get some coffee some time?”

he wants kkami to bite his mouth off

he doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore

you purse your lips

his dog ≠ him you suppose

so you nod and give him your name

he grins at that

“i’m hyunjin”

networks: @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf @neverendingdreams-net @straykidsland @k-films pirateeznet

#kflixnet #k-labels #neverendingdreams #straykidsland #k films #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan #minho x reader #lee minho #lee know x reader #lee know #changbin x reader #seo changbin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin

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oneforthemunny · 2 years ago

Text

love me tender |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: you and eddie's first time.

contains: soft, sweet, fluffy fluff with sweet precious smut about their first time together intimately. 18+ MINORS DNI oral fem rec, p in v sex

The bell rang at two-thirty, dismissing the masses of school children out of Hawkins Elementary. You had bus duty, ensuring each child got on their designated vehicle home. It was a Friday before a long weekend, so the kids were extra excited. Bouncing off the walls, clamoring excitedly, and entirely too rambunctious for your liking. You were still patient with them, of course, you didn't blame them for being excited. You were just excited as they were, just as eager to leave the red brick building and go home to get ready.

Ready for tonight, date night, at your house with Eddie- the fourth date you'd officially had, not counting the daily lunch dates, when he's help you decorate your classroom after hours. You'd fallen for Eddie fast, quicker than you ever expected, a swirling, golden love affair that left your warm and light, eager to be with him all the time. To know more about him until you knew him better than he knew himself, reveling in the tiny details he'd tell you about himself, treasuring them protectively like it was only for you to know. You liked to think it was.

Your mind raced, detached from the children rampaging around you, scurrying and equaling as they got on the yellow buses. When you got off, you'd have a ten minute drive to your place, and Eddie got off an hour after you. He said he'd be over at five, but you knew by now he's be there early, he was always eager to see you.

Two hours. Two hours to get ready, shower, shave, prepare. You'd been preparing for tonight, taking drunken, wine drenched advice from your girlfriends about how to make the first move.

"Just tell him you want to fuck," Lisa, your best friend, laughed, sipping her merlot on the floor of your living room just a week earlier, after your last date with Eddie. "I've never met a guy who turned that down."

"Yeah, but what if he does?" You bit your lip nervously, hands wringing and twisting in your lap. "What if he says no? God, how embarrassing would that be." You groaned, face flushing at the thought.

Lisa shrugged. "I'm sure he'd have his reason, but I doubt he will." She tipped her head towards you knowingly. "He's probably trying to be a gentleman. Just tell him it's alright, that you want to."

And you did. God, you really did. You just weren't sure how to go about it. You'd never been with a guy who didn't pressure you on the first date, let alone the fourth. Usually by then, they weren't even romancing you anymore, just lazy fucks that felt one sided and left you a little soured.

Eddie was different. Different than any guy you'd ever met. So sweet and kind, the type of adoration for you that you only found in your romance novels, fictional, perfect, flawless men- not real life.

He always opened the door for you. Always greeted you with a warm smile, like he was genuinely happy to see you, even on days when he felt less than great.

And that's exactly how he greeted you when you opened the door at four-twenty-two, brown eyes lit up and dazzling in the golden cast of the setting sun, a bottle of wine- the kind you ordered when he took you out to dinner- in his hand. His hair was still wet, damp curls making a slight ring around his t-shirt.

"Hi," Eddie's smile never dropped, only growing wider when you returned it. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek in the doorway, hesitating before his lips slotted over yours.

You pressed yourself further into him, hand snaking to cradle his jaw, tenderly and affectionate on your doorstep, where any of your neighbors could see.

Eddie blushed when you pulled apart, lips pulled tightly in a grin he tried to hide. "Hi," You giggled back. "Come in."

Eddie stepped in, setting the wine on the little table where you put your keys, shimmying off his jean jacket. He took in the entranceway, filled with photos he'd seen before but not quite memorized- not yet, anyways.

"Sorry, I'm a little early." Eddie muttered, leaning down to pull off his shoes. "I left early to get the wine so it'd be fresh and chilled, ya know? And I thought it would be busier, and I thought I timed it better, but it was dead for a-"

You laughed, sweet and light, stopping him, his breath catching in his chest. "Ed, it's alright." You smiled. "'M glad you got here earlier. More time I get to spend with you." You nudged him sweetly.

Eddie's cheeks flamed, setting his boots neatly next to your little house shoes. "That's right." He tried to answer cooly, but his heart hammered in his chest, palms sweaty. It still felt overwhelming that you would want him, want to spend time with him.

You looked at the label of the wine. "You didn't have to bring anything." You looked at him sweetly.

"Well, you said at lunch that the kids were wild today, so...figured you'd need it." Eddie stood, placing his hand over yours on top of the bottle.

"Good call," You scoffed lightly, giggling. You padded into the kitchen, the sweet, heavy air wafting into Eddie's senses. "I have beer or I think I still have some leftover merlot if you want any?" You offered, pulling out your wine opener out of your drawer. "Or you could share this with me, of course. Or not drink at all, if you don't want to. I just-I wanted to offer the other if you didn't want this..." You rambled, cringing slightly at yourself.

Eddie reached in the cabinet, pulling out the two wine glasses out for you. "I'll finish off that merlot." He said, setting the glasses in front of you. "That one's all yours, baby."

Your heart fluttered at the name, sweet and drawn out, with the same little drawl that leaves you wondering where he picked that up. You hoped you'd find out in time.

"I'm making some cookies." You said, voice echoing and drowning as you spoke into your wine glass, lifting it to take a sip. "Peanut butter chocolate chip. I-I remembered you told Steve those were your favorite last week at lunch."

Eddie's heart swelled. You had remembered. You thought of him and what he liked, and you made it for him. Eddie swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbling around his constricting throat. "That-That's really nice." He smiled. "You didn't have to do that, ya know. I'd be fine with whatever you wanted to make me."

You shrugged lightly. "Yeah, but it's something you like. I wanted to make it for you." You said simply. "I like baking. It's relaxing, ya know?"

"No, I don't." Eddie laughed, dimples deep in his cheeks, crinkling by his eyes. "I'm awful at baking. At cooking really. Unless you count, like, box mac'n'cheese." His giggles were infectious to you. "Maybe you could teach me, huh?"

You stiffened at the suggestion, blush blooming over your cheeks and the back of your neck. "Yeah, I could teach you a thing or two." You shrugged playfully. "But you gotta do something for me in exchange. Teach me something."

"Teaching the teacher? Sounds exciting." Eddie laughed, eyes lighting up when you giggled back at him. "I'm sure there's a few things I could teach ya." The words spilled out of his mouth before he could process them, a tiny, half grin that had you flushing.

Eddie's heart fell slightly, eyes widening. He hadn't meant for it to sound so suggestive. He didn't want you to think that's all he was here for. He enjoyed your company, enjoyed you. As eager as he was to fuck you, to get to experience you in such an intimate way, he was petrified of scaring you off, having you get the wrong idea and leave.

The shrill of the timer on the oven saved him. You scurried to find an oven mitt and pull the tray of cookies out, placing them on a cooling rack next to your little potted spices in the windowsill.

"Um, they need to cool for a while." You said, placing the mitt back in the drawer. You took a rather large gulp of your wine, downing most of it before topping it back off. "We can go ahead and watch a movie if you want? Or see what's on TV."

Eddie nodded, following your lead. Ever the gentleman, he let you pick the movie. He didn't even complain when it was a chick flick, like he would've in the past. You rambled about how the movie was one of your favorites, and he was sold. He wanted to watch it. Get to know you a little better, what you liked, what you watched in your free time.

You'd found his chest easily, head nuzzled into his shoulder, turning your nose into the fabric of his t-shirt. You could smell his after shave and deodorant, mixed with the cologne he's sprayed before leaving the van, desperately trying to mask the cigarettes he'd smoked before he came to your house.

Eddie's arm was around you, hand placed respectfully on your lower back, fingertips softly tracing the fabric of your shirt. With every sip of wine that passed your lips, you loosened up a little more. Got a little more relaxed, a little bolder.

You stared up at Eddie, eyes round and awaiting. He looked down at you. "Hi, sweet girl." He giggled.

"Hi," You whispered back, looking at his plump, soft lips, pink and enticing, begging to be kissed.

You didn't wait for his question, pressing your lips to his. Your hand finding the back of his neck, while your wine tipped dangerously in the other, sloshing over the rim carefully and onto the floor. You fumbled to find the coffee table, setting your glass down, lips still locked on Eddie's.

Eddie was startled by the kiss. The way you so confidently came onto him. He melted into you easily, like he always did, small clicks of exchanged spit and movement of lips muffled under the dialogue from the movie blaring on the TV.

Eddie's hand cupped your jaw sweetly, pulling you in closer to him, pushing your hair sweetly behind your ear. His cock lurched when you bit at his lower lip, just teasingly, a little playful nibble that had his stomach twisting in the most delightful way.

You moved, knees sinking into the worn, emerald cushions of your couch. You fumbled, clumsily, to straddle him, hips burning at the stretch to fit over his thighs. Eddie's eyes snapped open, breath hitching when you straddled him, grinding down onto his bulge.

"Wait, hold on-" Eddie pushed your shoulders back gently, detaching his lips from yours.

Your heart hammered, head spinning with the effects of the wine. Eddie searched your face, brown eyes wide and cautious with alert. "Baby, I-I don't want to pressure you or anything, ok?" He started. he could feel the sweat forming at his hairline, wetting the top of his bangs. "We don't have to-"

"Oh my God," You muttered, sitting back on his thighs, burying your face in your hands. "I-I'm so sorry." You stammered, and even through the glow of the TV, Eddie could see how red you were. "I just thought... I'm sorry. I shouldn't've done that."

Eddie shook his head, holding your hands gently when you tried to move. "Hey, hey, wait a second," Eddie whispered. "I didn't-"

"No, I-I'm so stupid, I'm sorry." You could feel your throat tighten and burn, the threat of tears coming in quick. "I just... I thought you might want to, but-but I should have asked. I should have checked with you or-or at least-"

"Baby, I-I want to." Eddie admitted, eyes widening. "Like, I really want to, I just didn't want you to think," He paused, hesitating. Your brows furrowed, head falling to the side in curiosity. "I didn't want you to think I was using you or anything." Eddie admitted.

"Using me?" You repeated.

Eddie sighed heavily. "I really like you." He admitted, cheeks blushing childishly at the admission. "I really like you and-and, fuck, I've wanted to be with you like this since the night at the Hideout, but I don't want you to think that's the only reason I'm with you. Because it's not. I really, really like you."

You bit your lip, smiling down at him, "I really, really like you." You whispered back with a giggle.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, face lighting up with excitement. "Really, really?" He teased.

"Really, really, really." You nodded with a laugh. The two of your so playfully childish, chirping all dopey and giggly at each other like the kids in your classroom did at recess, holding hands on the swings.

You moved closer, shifting so your clothed core was on top of his. You rocked your hips, slow up and down his zipper, the fabric of his jeans creating a small spark of friction between your legs. Eddie bit back a moan, breath catching as his eyes dropped between the two of you, watching you rock slowly up and down on his bulge, his hands gripping your waist tightly.

"And," You breathed out, your nose touching his gently. "I really, really want to have sex with you." Eddie's mouth ran dry at your admission. You blinked at him, batting your eyes flirtatiously. "Please?" You added with a small pout.

Eddie swallowed, nodding dumbly at you, eyes wide and trained on yours. He was sure his heart was in his throat, that he was choking on it and that's why it was so hard for him to breathe.

Sure, he'd had sex before. Not any brag worthy amount, but enough to know the basics of what he was doing, but they were never personal. It was always sex first, feelings follow- which is usually why the girls never stuck around very long after. With you, it was different. He wanted it to be special, full of love, and not rushed or rough or meaningless like his past ones had been. Even when he lost his virginity, an older girl with a tongue piercing that found a quarter on the sticky bathroom floor to get him a condom out of the dispenser.

Eddie smiled, but his eyes remained wide, a little frantic and wild. You ran a hand down his cheek softly. "Eddie, I don't want to pressure you." You whispered, squirming back on his thighs to climb off his broad lap. "I can tell you don't want to, and that's ok, really. I should've asked before making a move, I just-"

Eddie stopped you before you could push off, clammy hand on your hip. His eyes were wide when they met your gaze. "I want to," Eddie said quietly. "I just..."

You watched him carefully, tucking your lip, reading his expression for any sign of discomfort. "Are... Is this your first time?" You asked.

Eddie faltered, brows creasing, blinking rapidly. "What? No, no, I-I've had sex before." He blinked. "Is it your first time?"

You smirked, wiggling on his lap. "Obviously not." You giggled, blushing gently at the admission.

Eddie grinned back, hand running over the soft skin of your hip and up to your waist, slowly inching further under your shirt. He could feel the silk material of your bra graze his pinky.

"I just... I can't believe you, like, actually want to have sex with me." Eddie admitted.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, tilting your head to the side. "Whatdya mean?" You asked. "Do I give off... non-sexual vibes?" You tensed under his touch suddenly, a little vulnerable at the perception.

"No!" Eddie exclaimed, shaking his head hard. "No, no, not at all. Not even close." He breathed, heat rising up his neck with embarrassment. His mind raced, berating and horrible thoughts screaming in his own ears.

"I mean, like, not just sexually. Sexually, but just in general too." Eddie muttered. "I just don't know why you want to be with me, and-and it blows my mind sometimes. Feels like it's a dream, or-or a sick joke."

You pouted sympathetically, moving in to cup his cheeks gently, thumbs caressing his cheek bones. Eddie leaned into your touch, his own hands finding your wrists to hold them delicately.

"Eddie, why would I not want to be with you?" You asked simply. "You're sweet, and kind, and funny, and important."

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes. "'M not important." He muttered into your palm.

"You're important to me." You said firmly. His eyes lifted, eyeing you with a broken, beat down look that had your heart aching. "You're very important to me. And to your friends, Steve, your uncle. You're important, Eddie. Don't say that you're not. That's not true."

Eddie felt his heart swell, a familiar strangled burn of a cry deep in his throat. He felt soothed, a warm bath after a cold day kind of soothed. Familiar, and loving, and overwhelming; it made his head spin.

Eddie smiled at you, soft and bashful before he pulled you in close, lips capturing yours gently and sweetly, kissing you with so much affection and attention that it rivaled the characters on the screen, kissing in the rain after a fight.

Hands started to roam, tongues dancing and swirling, while Eddie moved on top of you, laying you down on the couch delicately, slotting himself between your legs. His hands were needy on you, clinging to you might evaporate into thin air if he wasn't touching you.

You felt him grind his hips, slow thrusts over clothed skin into your core, his lips moving from your lips to your cheeks, feeling his breath ghost over the trail of saliva he left from kisses. Your hands found purchase on the small of his back, gripping his t-shirt into your hands, rubbing slowly up and down his back, barely grazing his jean clad ass.

Eddie groaned when you wrapped your legs around his waist, taking note of every whine and moan that left your body, where he kissed, how he sucked your skin delicately. Eddie's hands pushed the top of your shirt up, lifting you gently to pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but a silk, pale pink bra, a tiny rose in the center of the scoop neck fabric. His eyes zoned in on your breast, seeing the outline of your hardened nipples even through the material.

You blushed, reaching to cover yourself instinctively, his gaze scorching and uncomfortable, but Eddie grabbed your hands, holding them lightly. He breathed slowly, staring for a bit too long before he gave a lopsided smile.

"Fuckin' perfect." He muttered, hands sliding down your waist and up your ribcage. He hesitated when he reached the bottom of your bra, fingers ghosting over the wire, eyes flicking to yours gently as if to ask permission.

You bit your lip, nodding quickly, eyes on him, taking in every small quirk in his expression. How his eyes lit up, corner of his mouth ticking into a grin, when his hands rubbed gently over the silk fabric of your padded cups, squeezing them gently and massaging your breasts lightly while you moaned, head tipping back.

Eddie's hands shook, fumbling with the clasp of your bra when he unhooked it. He removed it slow, like it was a big reveal, a gift he wanted to savor before seeing for the first time. Goosebumps covered your body when he bared your chest, from the cold air on the exposed skin, and the look in Eddie's eyes.

His hands cupped your breasts gently, massaging them and pushing them up and around your chest, leaving you giggling. "What're you doing?" You asked, pulling him out of his trance.

Eddie blushed, gaze on your only for a moment before dropping back down. "They're just... They're nice." He admitted boyishly.

You laughed loudly, vibrations from your chest buzzing through his hands. "Nice?" You asked, giggly and blushy.

Eddie nodded, dried curls bouncing and hitting his shoulders. "Very nice." He breathed out with a laugh. "You got a nice rack, baby, what can I say?" He teased making you laugh even harder.

You looked down at his hands on your breasts, thumbing over your nipples making the heat intensify between your thighs. "I'm glad you like them." You grinned, wickedly sultry, lip tucked between your teeth.

Eddie felt his bulge grow even more. He wasn't even sure how that was possible, but he was sure if you looked at him like that again, he'd burst through his jeans. "I really like them." Eddie admitted dumbly.

You smirked. "Yeah? I can tell." You whispered, rolling your core down onto his bulge pressed against you.

Eddie groaned, eyes pinching closed in pleasure, squeezing your breast a little harder at the sensation. "Fuck, baby, p-please don't do that." He muttered. "I'll cream my jeans if you keep doing that."

You laughed, pulling him by the back of his neck closer to you, his hands on your chest still, melting into your kiss.

Your hands moved down to the waist band of his jeans, fumbling at his top button. Eddie pulled apart, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, unbuttoning his own jeans, shoving them off roughly. He was tented in his black boxers, faded with the elastic shot in the waist band. They were the only clean ones he had, that he could find on the mess of his floor.

"Wait a second," You said, sitting up before he could climb back on top of you. Your hands went to your own pants, unzipping and shimmying them down under the curve of your ass.

Eddie pulled them off slowly, carefully, eyes trained on your little high cut matching panties, ruched and silk with the same matching rose on the waist band. He could see the slight damp spot on the front of them, where your arousal seeped through.

Eddie was sure he was going to bust now.

You barely had time to register what he was doing when he dropped to the floor, hands on either side of your hips, mouth on the damp spot on your panties. You gasped, fisting his hair gently when he licked you, sucking the fabric of your panties, and nibbling at your clit through the silk ferociously, like a man starved.

Eddie moaned, sending waves and vibrations to your clit, heat building in your tummy intensifying. "Oh! Eddie, please, right there." You whined, head pressed back into the downy cushions of your couch.

Eddie's eyes were closed, devouring you like you were the tastiest meal on the planet. Maybe you were, to him anyways. He'd be fine eating you for the rest of his life, he was sure of it.

Eddie could taste your arousal, the tangy sweetness of you that left his mind reeling, start to seep more and more potent through the fabric. He hooked his finger around your panties, breath catching when he saw your puffy pussy, glistening at him- for him.

He looked up at you, eyes locked to yours when he lowered his mouth onto your wet folds, licking a long, slow stripe down your core, leaving you whining and crying out at the sensation. Eddie pulled back for a moment, letting the taste of you set in on his tongue, savoring it before his hands gripped on your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

You squirmed and squealed on the couch, thighs clenched around his head so tightly you were sure you'd squeeze his head until it popped. But Eddie didn't seem to mind, mouth suctioned around your clit, fingers loosening you up as your writhed and bucked beneath his tongue.

"Oh, fuck, Ed, 'm so close. So close-oh!" You shrilled, hips bucking, thighs tightening and snapping closed around his head when he curled his fingers, scissoring the lightly open and then curling up inside of you, making you gush around his fingers.

Your chest hammered and heaved with heavy, bated breaths, and you were sure you blacked out for a moment. You'd never had an orgasm like that. Not with your vibrator, certainly not with any of your ex's. Your eyes glazed, thighs shaking and quivering gently when they finally relaxed underneath him, freeing his head from your grasp.

Eddie licked his fingers when he stood up, looking down at you skeptically, lips twisted in concern. "You alright?" He asked, hand still sticky and wet with your release cupping your cheek.

You were sprawled back into the couch, limbs weak around you. You blinked up at him, small, steadying breaths leaving your parted lips. "Y-Yeah," You said, swallowing around your thick tongue. "I just... I need a sec, that was..." You closed your eyes, slinging an arm over them.

Eddie hesitated. He'd thought you'd enjoyed it, but now he was a little self conscious. "Did I hurt you?" Eddie asked carefully.

"No," You replied quickly, eyes bulging to look at him with wide eyes. "No, you definitely didn't hurt me." You laughed, shaking your head. "That was amazing, Eddie, really. I-I've never..." You shook your head, hiding your blushing cheeks in your hands at the admission.

Eddie grinned, sloppy and proud. His chest boasted a little, puffing out as he looked down at you. "Yeah?" He asked.

You nodded. "Yeah." You agreed, hazy eyes looking back at him.

His cock lurched, jaw gritting at the sight of you, exposed and flushed laying on the couch. He tried to memorize every part of your body, every curve and crevice in case it was the last time he saw it. God, he hoped it wasn't the last time he saw you, but it all seemed too good; too good for him.

You sighed heavily, pulling yourself up on shaky legs, his hand immediately reaching out to steady you. "I, um, I have some condoms in my room if you didn't bring any." You admitted with a blush. "Not that I have a lot of guys over or in my room. You're the only guy, I just- I bought them for you."

Eddie beamed. "For me?" He repeated. "You were planning this, huh?"

You blushed, deep crimson down your neck and chest, awkwardly covering yourself under his gaze. "Maybe," You muttered. "Wishful thinking, right? I was hoping we'd get to, eventually."

Eddie smirked, hand on your waist squeezing it gently, he pulled you close to him, his erection on your tummy through the cotton of his boxers. "I packed a few in my wallet." He nodded towards the front table. "Guess I had the same idea." He admitted sweetly.

You giggled, hands running down his inked biceps, lightly tracing over the etches on his skin, ones you'd never seen before because they were hidden by his shirt. "Um, how about you get that, and I'll meet you in my bedroom?" You suggested, batting your eyes at him.

Eddie nodded, swallowing thickly as he watched you turn, scampering to your bedroom, fat of your ass jiggling with every step you took. Eddie felt his knees tighten, sure he'd fall to them at any moment. For you, he gladly would.

Eddie fumbled through his wallet, fingers digging for the gold foiled condom he'd slipped in there two dates ago, just in case. He'd never planned to, but he wasn't sure how the night would go.

You were waiting on the edge of the bed, candle lit on the bedside table softly illuminating the room in a romantic glow. Your bare body exposed and kneeling, waiting for him. Eddie gripped the door frame tight, so hard he was sure he'd break the worn, paint chipped wood.

"Jesus, fuck, baby." Eddie muttered, eyes roaming over your body quickly. He worried he'd miss a detail, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He'd have this burned into the back of his eyelids if he could, content with seeing this image forever and ever.

You grabbed him gently when he got closer, pushing the hem of his boxers down until they slid down to his ankles, cock springing onto his belly, angry and red and already spilling for you.

"Oh," You whispered, eyes bulging wide when you looked down at his erection.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie shifted, hands reaching to cover himself. Fuck, had he messed up the shaving that bad? He'd tried to follow the magazine article Steve had lent him on 'manscaping', whatever the fuck that was, but it ended up a little uneven.

You shook your head. "Nothing." You said quickly, reaching out to move his hand away gently. "It's just..." Your index finger traced the length of him with an airy light touch, tracing up the vein of his cock that had Eddie groaning. "It's big." You admitted, eyes rounding up at him with surprise.

Eddie stammered, reddening under your admission. "I-I mean, it's not-"

"It's pretty big, Eddie." You said, gripping it gently in your hand, stroking up and down his shaft lightly. Eddie shuddered, exhaling shakily, hands finding your shoulders for balance. "Biggest I've ever seen."

Eddie boasted, smirking pridefully. "You don't have to sweet talk me, angel." Eddie laughed. "You already got my pants off."

You giggled, looking up at him with a hidden grin, hands still stroking him lazily. You looked down at his leaking tip. "Can I...Can I taste it?" You asked, dewey-eyed with excitement. Eddie felt the breath leave his lungs. "Please?" You added sweetly.

"Oh, fuck," Eddie groaned before shaking his head rapidly, fingers pressing into your shoulders when you reached down, pumping him gently before your warm tongue swiped over his tip, gathering all his salty spend.

"Mmm," You moaned behind closed mouth, rolling your tongue around in your mouth, swallowing lightly. You looked up at him again, smiling innocently before you leaned back over him, wrapping your mouth around the head of his cock, tongue swirling gently.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," Eddie rambled, cheeks clenching to keep his hips steady. "Wait, fuck, wait." Eddie huffed out, groaning at the loss of warmth when you pulled your mouth off him, looking up at him questioningly.

"I-I, that feels so good, but, baby," Eddie sighed. "I won't last. I'm already so fuckin' close, let me just," He reached over, tearing open the condom before rolling it down his shaft. "I just need to be inside you, ok. Is that alright?"

You nodded, watching him roll the condom over his length. You looked back up at him, scooting back so you were sitting on the bed. "How do you want me?" You asked.

Eddie smirked. "How do you want me?" He asked back, tilting his head to the side. "Whatever's best for you, sweetheart. You just let me know how you want it."

Your heart swelled, beaming and gleaming up at him as you scooted back, lying back slowly until you were on your back. "I wanna see you." You admitted.

Eddie's heart lurched, crawling in the space between your legs. He pushed your thighs to your chest, slowly, placing kisses on the inside of your knees. He looked down, lining himself up with your entrance, rubber tipped cock circling your sopping hole.

"You ready?" Eddie asked, one hand on the mattress beside your waist.

You nodded, sitting up for you could watch down your sternum as he pushed in. You hissed at the stretch, a little uncomfortable with his girth. Eddie stopped. "You alright? You want me to keep going?" He asked.

"Yeah, just go slow," You tensed, and Eddie let out a broken, shaky sigh. Your pussy squeezing his already aching cock, strangling it as his hips met yours.

Eddie waited for a moment, watching you carefully, feeling your hips rotate and move around him until you relaxed, little thrusts and grinds onto him. You looked up at him, removing your hands from your thighs, placing them on either side of his face, and giving him a small nod.

Slow, purposeful thrusts, hips meeting yours, curls falling and tickling your face as Eddie hovered you. His breath was hot on your cheek, nuzzling and pressing gentle kisses onto your skin, pace quickening with every slow, deep roll of his hips.

Your back arched off the bed, nails digging into his back when he snapped his hips, rather hard into you. Eddie tensed, looking back down at you carefully. You didn't wait to hear the question, clawing at him, legs tightening to bring him closer, deeper into you.

"Do it again," You rasped. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

So Eddie didn't. His hips repeated their ministrations into you, snapping against you, pulling out just to slam into you again, leaving you whining and dizzy. You felt full of him, filled up and given him every inch of space.

"Oh, shit, sweetheart." Eddie's breath was hot in your ear, voice low and breathy. His pace quickened, grunts louder and thrusts quicker. "You feel- mmmfuck- feel so good. So fuckin' good."

You whined when his tip brushed your sensitive spot, making your abdomen clench, tears pricking your eyes. Eddie pulled back out of your neck, resting his forehead on top of yours. Bangs sticky with sweat, matted against your skin, his nose brushing yours.

You could tell he was close, by the way his jaw clenched, thrusts getting tighter and faster, breathing ragged and rapid. His eyes stayed on yours, scorching gaze that left you burning and aching for more. You could feel his hips clench, the small whine falling out of his lips as he thrusted deep, jamming into your g-spot and leaving you crying out, head tilting back and grappling at his shoulders, while his lips found your neck, sucking and nibbling gently.

Eddie grunted into the delicate skin, whiny moans desperate and tired muffled by your skin. You sunk into the mattress, feeling his weight on top of yours. Hips burning with the stretch against your chest, but you wouldn't complain. Not if it meant he might stay with you like this.

Eddie shivered when he pushed off of you, rolling over to reach for the used condom, filled up and embarrassingly large amount that he tried to hide, hunched over and guarded when he tied it off. You rolled your head over to look at him, watching him stand and look around the room for the trashcan.

"In the bathroom. Next to the toilet." You said softly, letting your legs fall flat, spread out starfish style on the bed.

Eddie padded into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers before he stuck his head out. "Do you have a cloth or something?" He asked.

"Second drawer from the top." You told him sweetly, pushing up on your forearms.

"I got it." Eddie said with a small smile. "I got it. Lemme take care of you, ok? I'll get you cleaned up."

Your heart swelled and fluttered at his words, the warm feeling in your chest intensifying when he came back, carefully wiping you, muttering apologies when you winced, pressing soothing kisses into your hair line.

You'd rolled over when he'd returned, one leg tucked under the sheets and the other extended down the bed. Eddie swallowed hard, eyes trained on your ass, the slope of your back, hair sprawled on the pillows next to you.

"I, um, that was really great." Eddie muttered, fumbling for his boxers on the ground, stepping into them carelessly.

You looked over at him, heavy lidded and dazed. "That was amazing." you smiled gently, his heart fluttering. "Better than I could've ever imagined."

Eddie laughed. "So you've been imagining me sexually, huh?" He teased with a lifted brow. "Dirty girl."

You giggled. "Can you blame me?" You smirked. You watched him step into the living room, his t-shirt in his hands. "Are-Are you leaving?" You asked with a frown, sitting up in the bed.

Eddie looked down at his shirt, he'd figured you'd want to wear it to sleep. His heart dropped at the thought that you wanted him to leave. He hadn't even thought of that. "I, uh, I-I can if you want me to."

You pouted. "I'd really like you to stay." You admitted quietly, pulling the sheets up to cover yourself, feeling too exposed, too vulnerable.

Eddie's heart leaped, fists clenching around the shirt. "Alright, yeah." He nodded, stepping towards the other side of the bed. "I-I, here." He extended the shirt to you. "I just figured you'd want something to sleep in. This is your house, I know, so if you want something else, just let me know. I can get you your pajamas or-or whatever you're comfortable in-"

You grinned, grabbing the shirt and slipping it over your head. You held the neckline close to your nose, inhaling Eddie's lingering scent, letting it was over you, leaving you hazy and gooey. Eddie gawked slightly, eyes wide when you met his gaze.

You pushed the duvet down, shimmying over so he had room. "C'mon in," You smiled, patting the mattress. "I promise it's a comfy mattress."

Eddie snorted lightly, sinking into the space next to you. He wouldn't tell you this yet, but he'd sleep on molten lave if it meant he could sleep next to you. You pushed your leg over Eddie's hips, snuggling into his side while his hands found your back, loving touches and stolen giggles shared between the sheets.

Eddie slept hard that night, better than he had in years. Content and happy to be next to you, even if you drooled, even if he snored, even if you hogged the blanket, and he kicked in his sleep. He couldn't imagine sleeping next to anyone else, being with anyone else.

He stayed with you the entire long weekend, hoarded up in your little home, helping you with small household tasks, stealing soft kisses, bending you over the kitchen counter when you made breakfast.

Tuesday came entirely too soon for either of you. You watched Eddie leave in the early darkness of the morning, heading to his home for his uniform then to school. When you saw each other later, small waves exchanged in the hallway while you greeted the kids entering and he swept, he couldn't help but grin, wide and goofy and uncaring; happy. Happy to be with you.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #funsonmunson #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson au #eddie munson x female reader #janitor!eddie munson #janitor!eddie #janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff

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drdemonprince · 9 months ago

Note

don’t know if this is relevant to your ask box, but I thought you might find it interesting.

I’m a 20 yr old trans man who’s just started an ongoing thing with a new Dom, who is over twice my age. I’m currently finishing up my second year at uni, and he’s, you guessed it, also the, uh…. academic sort.

He’s a busy guy so obviously we can only meet up every once and a while, but we text almost every day. From the beginning he was always curious about my school endeavours, but recently it’s become more of a thing.

He won’t let us meet until certain assignments are done. He’s flexible and understanding, like any good dom, but holy shit this man had me at a cafe for ten hours on 40mg of vyvanse writing my final essay like my life depended on it. I didn’t even know who I was, motivated by the pure need to please and, quite frankly, desperate desire to be absolutely taken and used. This man has “cured” my ADHD (not really, but damn well is he fucking helping it).

I think the point I’m getting at here it that I can’t believe it took the motivation of my D/s relationship to get me to get shit done. Like, I’m done DAYS before the deadline for things I usually would have left last minute. I’ve been honest with my struggles with motivation and difficulties taking care of myself, and he is genuinely invested in my well-being so I know it all comes from a place of care and respect.

At the moment I’m working on my final short film for a class, and he told me to make a list of all the foley sounds I thought would help drive the narrative (he knows I love making lists, it’s also the autism), and as probably one of the best rewards for my good behaviour, he shared with me a collection of audio files (he dabbles in audio mixing) that were relevant to the list I shared. Can you believe this??!!

All these studentxprof fics are getting it wrong. Sometimes nothing comes between a teacher’s genuinely investment in student learning (if they enjoy what they do, like he does) and that is absolutely true in this case. Absolutely unbelievable this is my life right now. Would love to hear your thoughts on this!

This sounds so fucking sweet and HOT anon! I'm so glad you're having an exciting time with an older dom who cares about you and helps you meet your goals! And the phrasing of this guy making you write for hours on vyvanse is especially titilating...making it sound like an intox scene omg drool

ADHDers are generally very socially motivated, which is not rare for human beings at all. It makes sense that having the external structure that an outside observe can provide and the sense that your actions actually matter to other people and that people care about you would help facilitate you focusing on shit and getting organized! Not to mention how much fuckin easier it is to perform any kind of household task or bit of drudgery once it becomes sexual service. Shit gives boring regular life a charge of excitement, and the abdication of power gives you the discipline to actually follow through, because you're not the only one on the hook for everything and that's less scary!

I have nothing much more to say other than this rules and I hope you keep having a fun time!

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poraphia · 1 year ago

Text

"Four Medium-Sized Coffees, One Big Fat Work Crush"

lvjy!wilbur x manager!reader 1457 words • 8.9.23 request by @mrssabinecallas! "lead singer will with a manager reader! they book all their performances and bring them coffee every morning, just happy to be there with Will and their friends"

requests are still open!! dont be shy :3 pt. 2 here <-

How to be a good tour manager: 1) Bring them coffee every morning 2) Don't fall in love with the lead singer

♡♡♡

Y’know, when I signed up for this job, I didn’t expect the roller coaster of emotions and action that would come with being an on-tour manager.

I especially didn’t think I’d end up falling for the lead singer of Lovejoy, William Gold.

I have been a stage director for concerts for a couple of years now since I graduated from university. I worked for different venues, taking up jobs such as being in charge of soundcheck and directing the lights. After years of hard work and a resume of experience, I was finally offered my first opportunity of being an on-tour manager for a rising band that was touring the world.

I have to admit, it was different. I was constantly away from home and on the road. The one thing genuinely battling this homesick feeling was the constant adventure and excitement we faced in every city. From sitting awkwardly in an Uber as the driver told us horrific stories, to running around the late-night streets tasting cuisines we had never heard of before.

I remember on the first day, I was a nervous train wreck. I spent most of that night pacing around my hotel room while occasionally practicing in the mirror how to greet the band, how to talk to them, and how to even shake their hand. It wasn’t until the peak time of 4 AM I decided that I should keep things simple (and that I should probably go to sleep because I had to wake up in three hours).

I met up with the band at our first venue for a soundcheck. When I got the text that they were arriving shortly, I ran to the nearest cafe and ordered four coffees, each with a simple shot of espresso, two scoops of sugar, and a cup of milk. It was basic, and it wasn’t guaranteed it would be something they’d love, but I was far too deep to turn back around and return the coffee. Plus, wouldn’t that be a super awkward situation? Oh, hey Mr. Barista! Sorry, can you refund me these four coffees after I walked in the blazing city heat for roughly ten minutes before—

“Hi,” A deep, posh voice caused me to snap out of my thoughts. I looked around, not even realizing I was already at the venue, and the man was holding the door for me. He was tall with disheveled curly hair and he wore a striped T-Shirt with some basic black jeans. Glasses rested on the bridge of his nose but more importantly, there was the guitar case slung across his shoulder.

“O-Oh, thank you!” I stuttered, rushing past him to avoid any more embarrassment. He softly chuckled behind me before closing the door. I turned around, half-smiling to shake off the embarrassing situation I’ve seemed to stumble in.

“You must be (y/n), right? Our manager?” He asked, his eyes trailing from my face to my lanyard, to the cardboard cupholders presenting four hot and fresh beverages.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed a bit too loudly. Guess that’s another check on the list for what will keep me up tonight. “I, uh, I got these coffees for you guys! Just to help you guys out with the jetlag and all…” I trailed off in the end. But thankfully, the man smiled and took a random cup, slightly pursing his lips to retrieve the beverage only to flinch back, laughing.

“Holy shit, this is hot.” He chuckled. I couldn’t help but laugh along as well. “Oh, fuck, where are my manners– My name is Wilbur, Will, William, honestly call me what you like.” He shrugged. “My other mates are right there and are practicing on stage right now. There’s Ash, Mark, and Joe.” He pointed to the respective person, each calling out their name.

We both began to walk toward the backstage area and continued talking. As Wilbur walked nonchalantly with coffee in hand, I struggled to catch up to his long strides while also maintaining the balance of the rest of the drinks. “It’s a funny way how we all became a band actually–” He turned around. Noticing my struggle as he spared a few milliseconds so that I may catch up. Will chuckled before continuing to walk at a much slower pace.

Once we arrived in the backstage lounge, I pushed the door for him with my back. He thanked me before walking past. “Oh, (y/n), I would like to mention something–” He said, turning his head to face me. I tilted my head, anticipating. “Next time you get us coffee, I’d like mine with two cups of milk!” He smiled. “Although, it is perfect as it is anyway. I’m sure the rest of the band would love it.”

As I watched him finish up his coffee and make his way to the stage, my mind was set on a new goal:

“Find out Lovejoy’s desired coffee orders.”

From that day forward, I brought them coffee every morning. From meeting them on the tour bus, at soundcheck, to even waiting in the hotel lobby. I would listen closely to what comments they would make. If Joe slightly mentions to Ash he doesn't like sweet coffee, I'll remember to add less sugar. If I heard Mark asking around for creamer, I'll remember to put more cream. My petty rule for myself was that I wouldn't dare ask them directly about their preferences. It was a fun little game for me, and it only took Wilbur a little over two months for him to notice.

Wilbur and I were sitting in the tour bus booth area going over the set list when he brought it up. "Hey, (Y/N), can I ask you something?" He said, tapping at his cardboard cup. I looked up from the piece of paper I was writing on to meet his eyes.

"I know what you're gonna ask�� I've already asked the stage crew if we could add smoke for The Fall along with some more flashing lights during Warsaw." I explained, pointing at the paper with the pen I had in hand.

Wilbur let out a soft chuckle with the softest smile on his face. His hair covered a bit of his eyes but even then I could see the reflection of light making his pupils sparkle. His laugh caused a fluttering sensation in my chest. My hands and stomach tingled as if dozens of butterflies were dancing on my skin. Was I.. Getting flustered?

"No, no, I wasn't going to ask that." He spoke gently. I held my breath, a little embarrassed for my rambling. "Though I do appreciate it all. You've picked up so much about us as a band in just a couple of weeks." He held the end joints of my fingers between his grasp as he spoke, fidgeting with them as he talked.

"Oh, well…" I felt the blush creeping to my face. "that is kind of my job." I chuckled.

"Also you've been getting our coffee orders perfectly I've noticed. Mark was raving to me earlier about how good it tasted. Ash even posted it in his story." Wilbur said, reminiscing on his mornings with his friends.

I couldn't hold back the biggest smile on my face. It took every nerve of my body not to jump up on the table and do the goofiest, happiest dance of my life. Instead, I nodded and hummed, using my thumb to rub circles into his hand.

"I'm really glad to hear that. This is my first on-tour job, so here it's just–" I stumbled over my words trying to find the right phrases, but I was so overwhelmed with giddiness I just sighed. "Thank you…"

Wilbur looked back up to meet my eyes again. His cheeks were dusted with the slightest bit of pink as he examined bits of my face. I wanted to take in every feature of his as well. From the small mole near his eye to how pink his lips were. How pretty his lips are… they look so… Soft–

"(y/N)! Wilbur!" Mark called out from the other end of the bus. Immediately we pulled away from each other, sinking ourselves in our opposite-end seats from embarrassment.

"Yeah?! What is it, Mark?" Will called out, but he dared not to turn around to face him.

"We're in LA now! You guys ready for our last gig in the States?!" He asked excitedly.

Oh, God.

It was the last gig.

Which means…

I looked over to Will, who also had a slight shock on his face as if it slipped his mind as well.

This is it, I suppose.

Who was I to think I would get my happy rom-com ending?

♡♡♡

my wilbur soot masterlist ~! a / n ~ i have a part two idea for this already omg should I do it?? reblogs and likes are super appreciated!! they be motivating me :33

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #lovejoy #wilbur hc #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fluff #will gold #wilbursootmcyt #mcyt headcanons wilbur #mcyt tag #mcyt x reader #mcytblr #mcyt

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cellu-lightreading · 1 year ago

Text

Pure Greed

It was all a coincidence really. Jamie's friends took him on a vacation, and a few drunken afternoons produced a flurry of content of him shirtless on his socials. He was twerking on the beach and eating all kinds of food. As he watched it back, he was a little embarrassed. The internet isn't usually kind to guys like him with double chins that eclipse their necks and waistlines wider than adults are tall. When he checked his phone and saw that his phone was blowing up, he was nervous that trolls had come to attack him. That's not what he found.

Hundreds of likes materialized overnight with a comments section overflowing with support and love. Not exactly body positivity comments, more swarming sexual admirers. There were heart eyes and eggplants and peaches. They said they liked his soft gut and his giant dimpled ass. They were drooling over how much he could eat instead of criticizing all the junk he was stuffing in his mouth.

At breakfast, Jamie decided to share the phenomenon on his post. No one could quite explain how these legions managed to find him of all people, but one friend had one idea of why they were so obsessed with him.

"They're called feeders or encouragers." Brandon said "When they see a big fat guy not promising to lose weight, they're like moths to a flame. You filming yourself stuffing yourself is like porn to them."

"How do you know all of this?" Jamie asked.

"'Cause they swarm the comments of all my favorite fitness influencers going on a dirty bulk in the winter. They go rabid watching a dude's abs melt away for a few months and then get disappointed and disappear in the spring when it's time to cut. Actually, this is a pretty good opportunity for you if you play your cards right. These guys will literally throw money at you just for being fat. Now that they've slashed your hours at work, you can probably string these guys along to keep the bills paid."

"I don't know how I feel about selling my body."

"You're not exactly doing porn. You don't even really have to get naked. All you have to do is be fat and get fatter."

"Get fatter? I just clocked in at 375 the other week! I can't afford to get bigger!"

"Considering we're the ones paying for your stay this weekend, I'd argue that you can't afford not to get bigger."

A few days after getting home, Jamie decided to give making content a try. He wasn't really sure what to do so he started with something basic every influencer did nowadays: a get ready with me video. He started the video from bed, letting the people see him heave his body out from under the covers. He slept shirtless normally so that might be something. He showed himself buttoning up his uniform shirt around his large frame and hoisting his pants around his thighs. He got a little self-conscious thinking about the ways his clothes tended to get stuck around his folds and how tight they looked in places. He pushed the thought away and started on breakfast. Normally, he didn't eat all that much for breakfast, at least not compared to his other meals. He didn't really get that hungry in the morning, preferring to keep things simple with some toaster waffles and bacon. He thought half the box of waffles was pretty moderate considering how small they were; there were only ten in the box to begin with. After licking up the syrup, Jamie ended the video with a wave and a smile hoping he was enticing enough.

Jamie closed the app out and forgot about it. Work usually kept him very occupied, so there wasn't a lot of time to check his phone. It was only at the end of the day when he got a call from Brandon that he thought to open the app at all.

"I'm genuinely curious: you really call five waffles and half a pack of bacon a light breakfast?" he asked Jamie incredulously.

"Yeah? I'm usually not quite full after that."

"Oh it's no wonder they're reacting well to this."

"How well?"

"Like two thousand likes plus a never ending stream of comments."

"No way!"

"Yeah and this comments section...honestly is pretty obscene. I definitely feel like some of these would make you uncomfortable, but still no fatphobic trolls so that's a win. People are definitely fans of you. They think you are the sexiest thing ever."

"I still can't believe this is a thing."

"It is absolutely a thing and it is happening to you. Lots of people hoping you'll keep making content, and you're already getting people offering to pay for you to eat stuff. I honestly feel like you should show them what you normally eat before you do all that."

"But I'm hurting now. The cash would be good to have now. You have no idea what I can do with that kind of money."

"I think I’m starting to." He said to himself. Then he asked, "Aren't you the same guy who was nervous about putting yourself out on the internet?"

"I am, but $40 is $40. I go through a lot of money in food and things like that. It would be pretty neat if I really could get a little help around here."

"Well, how does this sound? Take the offer, go have a good time. Don't deny yourself anything for the next month. Every time you want something, have it. You don't have to push yourself, just show off your normal life- and get it on film."

Jamie accepted the challenge. He took pictures and videos of every time he ate. Within the first week, Brandon was shocked to find out just how much food went towards keeping Jamie as big as he was. When he said breakfast was light, he wasn't kidding. He was ingesting thousands of calories just from the vending machine while he worked at his desk. One night he ate an entire party-size lasagna by himself and then remarked that "he still had a little space left, maybe dessert would finally top him off." He went to his freezer, grabbed a pint of ice cream he filled with all sorts of treats and toppings and ate it until he was licking the container. The scariest part to Brandon was that most of his videos felt like a confessional; no one was supposed to know all the eating he does, especially not the people in his real life- i.e. Brandon. Jamie was increasingly comfortable admitting to his new internet friends all of his favorite treats and tricks. That's how Brandon found out people put crushed Doritos on pizzas.

By the time their little challenge was ending, Jamie was on camera complaining how his jeans were getting a little tight. When the two of them met up at a function for a mutual friend, the conversation quickly veered off toward their project.

"You know, I had a lot of fun following your advice in the last month. I don't know when was the last time I got to have so much fun guilt free."

"Really?" Brandon asked. He thought back to a video where Jamie went back to a restaurant after their friend group left to have a second round of food. "I'm glad you've got a new space to do that now."

"Yeah, and the fans are really getting into it. They've got all kinds of food suggestions and the money never stops pouring in. They've been really supportive.”

"Speaking of ‘supportive’, how to put this delicately, has it gotten any harder for some of the things around you to physically support you and your new hobby?"

"Is this your coded way of asking me if I gained weight?"

"Yeah, I'm trying not to be really rude about it in public."

"It's fine. But it has gotten a little harder to wear anything with buttons, nothing wants to close anymore. I've easily put on 15 pounds, maybe even a whole 20."

"20 pounds in a month is pretty fast."

"That's why I was so nervous to start this. My body is an expert at putting on weight."

"So I see. Do you think you'll cut back down to something a little more manageable or-"

"No, I don't think the fans will like that too tough. That's like the one thing that gets them really jumpy. Every time I bring up the word diet or cutting, the comments get flooded with messages about how beautiful I am at this size and begging me not to lose weight."

"And this doesn't concern you at all?"

"I mean at the end of the day, they are people on the internet and this is my body. I get the final say on decisions I make with my body. I can always just lose the weight, right?"

"But it doesn't bother you that people are begging you to get fatter?"

"Honestly, no." Jamie laughed. "Like it sounds weird, but I kind of enjoy it. I mean, look at me. With no extra effort on my part, I gained 20 pounds in a month. If I'm going to keep getting fatter, I might as well do it with people who appreciate me this way."

"If you say so. As long as you're okay with it."

"Yeah, it's fine. All this talking about the channel is making me hungry though and I know I smelled something good earlier. What do you say we check out the snack situation?"

Sooner than expected by all, Jamie was planning on celebrating his first gainer milestone- 400 pounds. Jamie was a little surprised at the number, but his reaction surprised himself more. For a while, the idea of reaching the 400s was enough to send him into a crash diet of nothing but carrots and celery for a couple of weeks until a strong craving hit him right when he was starving. His willpower would fall apart in dramatic style, and his weight would continue its upward trajectory. This time, Jamie accepted it. It was shocking to know he had reached it with so little effort on his part. He expected to reach the 400s in the holidays, not from an extra trip to the vending machine at work. In fact, he didn't feel that much bigger crossing over the line.

While Jamie might not be excited, his followers were very excited to get the news. They begged to see him step on the scale and watch the magic number appear and sent some extra money to celebrate the accomplishment.. When Jamie saw how big the donations were, he knew he had to try to do something special. He had exactly one idea, but it made him a little nervous.

"So to... celebrate 400 pounds, I thought I would treat you all to a little sneak peak behind the scenes of the real life behind the fat man. This stuff annoys me, but you all seem to love it so I think you'll have a fun time. These are 4 of my big fat problems."

Jamie started off by showing his followers the pile of clothes he couldn't bring himself to get rid of. Every article of clothing in the pile was something he had destroyed just from being too fat. Shirts with the buttons popped off, belts where the buckle had been torn off, pants where his thighs had worn down the fabric from rubbing together all the time while he was walking and waddling everywhere, and everything where a seam ripped in defeat from holding back too much fat. More embarrassing than how he knew he was never going to fit back in those sizes, was how he had destroyed those clothes so no one else would ever get to wear them either. Trying to get them fixed would mean admitting that he had done all that damage to these clothes. To complete the exercise, Jamie put on an outfit from the bottom of the pile that looked smaller than he last remembered. The sweatpants were once the pants when he was too bloated to fit his normal clothes until his thighs made a heart shaped hole around the crotch. Years later, he could hardly get them around his legs. The fabric still felt delicate around the inside of his thighs, thin enough that he could practically feel the skin on tthe other leg through his pants. When he made the mistake of reaching for a shirt on the ground, the pants ripped apart all the way up to his ass. Jamie decided that was enough.

Number 2 was in his dining room. Jamie had a set of chairs that used to be his favorites in the house. He keeps them hidden now because he had two of them collapse under his weight in one night in the middle of a party. He won't use any of them anymore to save himself the embarrassment of using a chair that doesn't match. It doesn't hurt that even if he wanted to sit in one now, the arms on the chair are so narrow that he wouldn't be able to fit his ass in between. Jamie knew his followers would want the painful proof, so he gently lowered his rear end into one. First came the pinch of the arms skewering his doughy flesh, but the more he tried to unload his body in the seat, the more the arms relented against his flesh until they snapped off. With the arms no longer in the way to help slow down the inevitable, all of Jamie’s body plopped in the chair. The chair immediately protested with a loud symphony of moans and creaks. Jamie thought he might be safe from the ultimate embarrassment. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the chair. Before Jamie could even process what was happening, the chair disintegrated into splinters underneath him.

Number 3 was deceptively simple: tying his shoes. It took so much effort to do every morning that Jamie actively dreaded the idea that they would get undone during the day. With a large gut permanently sitting in the middle of his body, reaching all the way around to his feet was a challenge. Every day he would try in vain to reach over his belly to tug on his shoes. Getting it done often required contorting his body into ridiculous shapes to bring his leg closer. When he was done, it often left him breathless and tired enough that he considered slides for the rest of his life.

The last segment of his video involved going jogging outside. In the early spring, the weather was a fairly mild temperature, but you wouldn't be able to tell from looking at Jamie. Jamie purposefully made it short- just one lap around his cul-de-sac. There was no delusion that he would go far when this would already be one of his longest runs in years. He recorded how his tits and ass and belly all bounced around with every footfall. By the time he was back at his house, Jamie was wheezing and panting. His shirt was wet all over and his face was drenched in sweat. Just a few yards had the ability to completely destroy him. With that, Jamie decided that he had enough.

Jamie posted and it was a runaway success. All around the clock, Jamie was getting comments online. They cheered him on and told him how beautiful they thought he was. They weren't afraid to tell him just how hot that video was to them. The more comments he read, the more assured he felt that he made the right decision. Why be ashamed of something that made everyone love him more? Maybe this was where he belonged all along. His followers tripled within two weeks. He promised his followers that he would eat whatever they paid for. Jamie tried to sweeten the pot for them too, "If you look back in the archive, you all can tell what kind of guy you're working with when I make promises like that. I eat all sorts of junk and stuff myself whenever I get a chance. I'm also probably not going to burn all of that exercising. If my last video didn't make it clear enough, cardio is not something that has a regular place in my life. So feel at ease, knowing your money is going to a very good cause." Jamie gave his stomach a couple of pats for the camera.

Suddenly, money started coming in like a water hose. Money was coming into his account, gift cards were getting sent to his email, and presents were showing up at his door. Jamie had full-on supporters now. They were all in, engaging with him whenever he wanted to be there. If he was considering being lazy or having a little extra dessert, someone was always there within seconds to tell him to do it. If he wasn't sure about finishing his meal, there was always a little encouragement waiting for him in his messages.

His new supporters also came with a bit more edge. They were more willing to speak their mind about the kinds of food he should be eating: fattier, more flavorful, more. They introduced him to shakes; they gave him new concoctions to try to actively help push a few more pounds onto his already very generous frame. It was a new step for him to take. All this time, he hadn't been trying to gain, the weight had found him from trying to have fun. This had all been an adventure in people enjoying who he already was. The last 25 pounds were already a big shock for him, what would happen if he really opened the floodgates and started actively gaining weight? What would people say?

Nothing he hadn't heard before, something deep inside told him. It was scary to admit, but people had been comfortable saying all kinds of crazy things to him about his size for a long time. 400 might have been a new threshold of big, but he'd been fat enough to draw the ire of folks for hundreds of pounds now. The stares, the jokes, the dire warnings of health concerns, and the snide remarks were already fixtures in his regular life. No one would care if he put on a little more weight, they had already written him off as fat. The only person's opinion that matters is his own...and he was having fun.

Jamie made a video taste testing some gainer shake recipes for the very first time. His mouth watered watching all these delicious ingredients get added to the blender. He chugged one after another before he came to the realization that each one of those glasses was the calorie equivalent of a full day's eating. "Maybe I overdid it," he admitted on camera. The comments assured him he was on the right path.

One evening a few months later, Jamie was meeting up with his friends to celebrate a birthday. He was trying to inhale the rest of the McDonald's he had picked up on the way in his car. When he heard a tap on his window, he was startled. Brandon was leering in. Jamie rolled down the window.

"Jamie, are you actually eating in the parking lot of a restaurant that you're about to enter?"

Jamie looked to the pile of food on the passenger seat and accepted lying was not an option. "Yes."

"Oh my God."

"Look, I know this isn't the best look, but I had to do something. My appetite has been growing a lot lately-"

"From the amount of stretching your stomach's been doing for the channel."

"-and I don't want to pig out at every meal that I have in public. I already eat more than everyone else, I don't need to keep adding fuel to the fire. You and I both know they really only tolerate all of this," Jamie jiggled his belly, "because we've been friends for such a long time."

"Yeah, but you've got to admit that this is getting out of hand. You've gained like a hundred pounds in the last year or so, and when you started this you were worried about how big you already were."

"But when I started this, I was also deeply insecure about the idea of even showing my body in public. Now I have people in my life who are genuinely excited about me doing the things I love the most and are happy to see me be me."

"I'm not sure this is you guiding you along. Feels a little more like the tail wagging the dog. "

"Brandon, you know my life better than anyone at this point. I want you to think back to my videos. Have you ever seen me this happy in my life?"

"No. I want to say I have, but I haven't."

"Exactly. Believe me when I tell you that I'm okay. I'm enjoying myself. I'm in control of the situation. I wouldn't still be doing this if I didn't like it."

"Okay, but I think you should know you're starting to get to the deep end of all this stuff. I'm not going to be able to help you so much as you keep growing."

Jamie didn't take that as a warning at the time. He was more than content to catch up on Brandon's life while he ate. He had dessert after dinner and a midnight snack. Jamie kept on, knocking back gainer shakes like it was water. The only thing that gave him pause came while he was on the watch out to hit 500. Jamie went to his manager after his desk chair broke in a second place in one month. It had been a bit of a fight to get them to give him a big and tall chair in the first place back when he was cresting 300 and breaking it was not going to lead to a pleasant conversation.

"Look, I understand that we live in a body positive society now and the company is really trying to work on being more inclusive, but this is too much. We can't keep doing this. It might be easier to swallow the fact that you are now too big for a big and tall chair if it wasn't clear to everyone that you're also spending more time eating in your work day than actually working. Every paper that crosses your desk leaves with crumbs and grease stains and your numbers are slipping to the point that you're now last in the division. It's time for you to go."

Suddenly, Jamie was back in a crisis all over again. This time, though, he already had a lifeline. Donations had reached a fever pitch in the past few weeks and it was only going to keep increasing. The only real problem was that Brandon wasn't going to be able to help him find a new avenue to expand his business. Jamie turned to his followers, telling them all of his woes with the hope a savior would emerge.

He got another warning in his direct messages from another gainer. "Be careful what you wish for. The bigger you get, the more you're going to find people who are serious about this. The dark end of this community will drag you in if you're not prepared to handle it. There are guys who will keep pitching in with a meal or two, and guys who will take over your life."

That was what we had in mind when he met with Tom. Tom was a slender man who wore a dark suit and a sly smile. Tom had watched his videos since the very beginning. The bigger he got, the more active he had become in the comments.

"It's such a pleasure to get to meet you in person. I wish it was under different circumstances."

'Well these don't have to be sad either.”

“I didn’t say they were sad; I only wish they were different. I think every man of your… stature should be excited by the prospect of leaving your job to spend the rest of your days eating and having a good time.”

“Well I don’t know if it’ll be the rest of my days.”

“I can’t imagine after this little experiment you’ll be begging to be back working a 9 to 5.”

“I can’t imagine I’ll enjoy being unemployed.”

“It’ll help when you stop thinking of yourself as unemployed and more as a full-time content creator.”

“Right…what's the catch?”

A few months later, Jamie was living in the lap of luxury. Tom hired someone to come around every day to take care of chores and get him whatever food he wanted. (Tom had also hired him to ensure that food was now always within arms reach and Jamie did as little physical labor as possible.He would get a bonus ever time he could sneak in appetite stimulant or weight gain shakes into his diet) Jamie spent the first couple weeks just testing his new helper on the lengths they would go for his every craving. He never found something he wanted that wouldn’t show up for him in multiple greasy bags ready to be devoured. Catering pans filled with burritos or lasagna would show up whenever he wanted.

Jamie was glad for the extra hands around the house because it meant he could devote all his time to his favorite hobbies. He could binge watch shows and play video games for days. The internet would graciously supply him with any kind of entertainment to keep his mind distracted while giant bags of chips disappeared into his maw.

The best part, Jamie thought, was having Tom around. All the nagging voices of his coworkers were replaced with Tom’s. He would come over when he got a break or after work, usually toting a bag filled with Jamie’s favorite treats. While Jamie shamelessly licked his fingers and the bag for every morsel, Tom would whisper into his ears how sexy he found him. He would tell Jamie how proud he was every time he found fresh fat and stretch marks while he caressed his body. Whenever Jamie got nervous and embarrassed about outgrowing clothes, Tom would celebrate and order in the finest meals he could find. Tom had transformed unemployment into being the best thing that ever happened to him.

Time slipped away and pounds piled on. The bubble of indulgence burst when Brandon paid Jamie a surprise visit. The helper opened the door slightly and Brandon barged in.

“Jamie, I think there’s something you should- dear Lord! What the hell?” Brandon took in the full extent of Jamie’s new level of obesity. He would check in on videos occasionally, but months had passed since he last saw him in person. “The camera really doesn’t do justice on how big you look.”

“That’s what Tim says too. He says I’ll waste away if I’m not careful.” Jamie let out a nervous chuckle that shook his bean bag sized belly.

“Brandon, do you know how much Tim is keeping from you? Do you even know how much you weigh?”

“Well I got fired around 500 and we just did a milestone video not too long ago, so I figure I should be in the early 600s.”

“That milestone video was for 700 and that was six months ago.”

“Well time sort of gets away from you when you don’t have to be at work five days a week. But I’m making the best out of the situation. I’ve got great TV and these delicious snacks that honestly taste like butter and sugar.”

“It probably is just lard and sugar,” Jamie said. “And this isn’t raising any red flags for you? Aren’t you worried about fitting through doors anymore?”

“Not since we widened them all. I had a few incidents where I got stuck.”

“A few?”

“Well the first time, I thought it was a freak accident, but then it kept happening and each time it was harder for me to get out. There was one time Tim was going to grease me up to get me out the door with some butter, but I had already eaten it all during a feeding session.”

“And again, you’re okay with all this? A man just emerges from the internet and you let him feed you off a cliff?”

“Honestly, it didn’t take as much convincing as you might think. Tim has this belief that just some people were born to be fat and that’s it. That being fat is our role to play in the world. And like I probably could’ve gone into the job market and fought for another boring job I don’t even like just to make ends meet, but my other option was to be perfectly fine doing exactly what I want to do. I enjoy eating and lounging around all day and the more I do it, the bigger I get, the more money I make to spend on food and fun stuff. Outgrowing clothes, furniture, my car- it’s all just a part of my life at this size. It’s been a part of my life for years now, decades almost. And the price to pay- the stuff that my doctors used to say to scare me- I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve spent too much trying to be scared by it already. One more cake isn’t going to make the difference.”

“Give up, he’s already made up his mind.” Tim said, emerging without warning. “This is who he is now. He’s settled completely into a life of being fed and pampered. Now all he wants in life is to keep growing for me and his subscribers. That strong-willed guy you used to know is gone. He’s accepted life as a fat boy. .’

The doorbell rang. The caretaker opened the door and in came a man in a polo with a gigantic grease stained brown paper bag. The smell of all kinds of food filled the house. Jamie looked at Brandon who was licking his lips. Brandon couldn’t contain his excitement. Brandon said, stunned, “This is really your life now. This is what fills your life with happiness. Do you even have any of your mobility left?”

“Of course I do. Look, I’ll go fetch my mid-afternoon snack from the kitchen myself.”

“Snack?”

Brandon rocked back and forth, trying to get some momentum. For a brief second, he made it off the chair. Then the momentum switched directions. The weight of a family of four slammed into the sofa. The wooden frame underneath let out a scream before the whole left side broke into pieces.

“Are you okay?” Tim yelled out.

“Let me help you back up.” Jamie stretched out his hands.

“No, I can get up by myself.” Brandon tried the trick again. He rocked back and forth and hauled himself up with a mighty groan. Breathlessly, he said, “I told you I could do it.”

Brandon waddled slowly towards the kitchen. Every thunderous step shook the house, rattling anything not nailed down. It was hypnotizing watching the dimpled folds of his body pillow-sized thighs brush past each other. His gut swung like a pendulum back and forth out of the bottom of his shirt. Every movement made his shirt slide further up his belly until it was blocked by his chest. The sound of his panting was hard to ignore as it grew louder. It didn’t seem like a long distance from the sofa to the kitchen counter, but when Brandon got there, it was like he had completed a marathon. Everyone was stunned by the sight, except for Brandon.

“All of this is for me, right?” Brandon said, catching his breath, “I’ve been hungry since I finished my second round of lunch an hour ago.” Brandon tore apart the bag and stuffed a fistful of seasoned fries into his mouth while he rifled through the containers.

#gainer story #gainer fiction #gay gainer #wg story #bhm #encourager #glorifying obesity #death feederism

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youunravelme · 2 years ago

Text

drops of jupiter pt. 2

author’s note: lol i accidentally posted the beginning of this part in part one, so if you saw that, no you didn’t. again, this is not a super light read, deals heavily with depression, though it’s never explicitly stated. think liability by lorde/this is me trying by taylor swift. also i’m sorry for the amount of shrugging and sighing in this fic and the first part. every character is in a constant state of idk.

warnings: cursing, drinking/getting drunk, depression

summary: being friends with your ex wasn’t the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, breaking up with him took that slot.

prompts: “I thought I was going to lose you.” / “i just need you.” / “what the hell were you thinking? / “i don’t know who you think i am but i’m not leaving.” / “feel my fucking heartbeat right now and tell me i don’t love you.”

then

“we need to get up,” jack mumbled into your neck, his arm strewn over your waist.

“why?” you asked. “we’re on vacation.”

“vacation with my family. i wouldn’t put it past my brothers to harass us any minute now.”

you hummed and snuggled further into your pillow.

a bang pounded on the door that had you both flinching. you clutched the comforter to your chest even though you were both fully clothed.

“jack get up! we’re going to work out.” you heard quinn’s voice on the other side of the door, and if you listened closely, you could hear luke snickering.

“we’re on vacation!” you called back. “come back at a reasonable hour.”

“7 is reasonable!” quinn replied.

"in what world?” you groaned. but jack got up anyway, tossing on a clean shirt and a pair of joggers. “wait, where are you going?”

jack walked over and kissed your forehead. “go back to sleep, i’ll see you later.”

you watched him walk out before shutting your eyes and succumbing to sleep once more. when you woke up next, you went downstairs and were met with ellen standing at the kitchen island eating toast and eggs.

“you’re awake!” ellen greeted. “want some breakfast?”

you nodded and took a seat at the island. “but i can make it--”

“absolutely not. you’re a guest here, and guests don’t make breakfast for themselves.” she turned around and started cracking eggs into a pan before tossing some toast in the toaster. she seasoned the eggs and let them cook before turning back around to you. “did you sleep well?” she asked. you were fully expecting a teasing tone since you did sleep in the same bed as her son, but she was being genuine.

“slept fine,” you said.

“i bet,” ellen started. “all of you were very busy yesterday.”

and she wasn’t wrong. you spent most of the day on the lake, whether that was sunbathing on the boat or wake boarding. by the time the sun set, you were exhausted.

you glanced around the downstairs. “they still aren’t back yet?”

ellen tossed her head back and laughed. “sweetheart, it’s only been an hour since they’ve left. if anything, they’re probably headed to the ice rink by now.”

“but it’s summer, the rink should be melted?”

ellen grinned at you knowingly. “there’s a public indoor ice rink just ten minutes away. they probably went there after working out at the gym.”

“did jim go with?” ellen nodded. “so it’s just us?”

“just us.” she turned back around to plate your toast and eggs before she placed the plate in front of you. “how have you been? how’s school?”

you shrugged. “it’s been alright. nothing to write home about.”

“jack said you seem to be enjoying it.”

“it’s a step to getting where i want to be.”

“that’s what life’s about, hon. taking it step after step.”

now

you stared at your phone for what felt like years. there was no way this was your life, no way that you deserved any of the kindness that’d been shown to you. there was no earthly explanation for why jack hughes was insisting on you attending one of his games against ahaheim.

“you need to be social,” was his explanation. “besides, the boys missed you.”

quinn was in town for his game happening the next night, trevor was playing against jack and nico that night, and the plan was to go to dinner afterwards.

you were nervous to see quinn again, this being the first time you saw him since the break up. you weren’t sure how his family took it since you made a point not to text or call regardless of how much you missed them. it just wouldn’t be fair to jack.

but he met you outside the arena with a small hug and smile. “it’s been awhile, how have you been?”

you really wished people would stop asking you that.

you shrugged. “nothing much has been going on. how’ve you been? i haven’t kept up with hockey much lately.” truth be told, you didn’t want the reminder and couldn’t bear to keep using jack’s logins. you wondered if your account was still on his netflix.

quinn shrugged as well and nodded his head toward the arena so you both could start walking in. “life’s been normal, busy, but normal.”

“how’re your parents?”

quinn tucked his hands in his pockets. “they’re fine. they ask about you, miss you.”

you almost stopped walking. you never once considered yourself important enough to be noticed, let alone missed. “and luke?”

“still at michigan.”

you fell into a comfortable silence after that, something you’ve always loved about quinn, your ability to just be without any expectation of conversation. as you made your way to your seats, quinn stayed quiet, waiting until you were seated to finally say something.

“what made you come to this game?” he asked.

you wanted to shrug off his comment, to say something flippant, but you’d always been honest with quinn in the past. “jack invited me and i couldn’t say no.”

“but why?”

“i--” you paused. “i don’t know. i don’t think i could deny him of anything if he asked me.”

he nodded, seemingly content with your lackluster answer, maybe because it was the most honest one you’d given in awhile.

as the game began, quinn would make little comments here and there, mainly about jack and his performance. “he’s playing really well,” he’d say.

after jack scored a goal, you saw him scanning the crowd as nico and his teammates rushed him. but he didn’t smile until you two locked eyes. and if you smiled as well, who was to blame you? surely they’ve never seen jack hughes embody the full weight of joy. in the corner of your eye, you could see quinn smirk, but you ignored it in favor of looking at the players.

the both of you walked down to the locker rooms, flashing your lanyards jack had given quinn earlier that day. you stood outside, bouncing on your toes.

“what’s got you so antsy?” quinn asked.

you stopped. just now noticing that you were wringing your hands together. “i--uh--”

“you made it!” nico came out first with his hands open and arms spread wide in greeting.

“why wouldn’t we be here?” quinn asked. “we made plans.”

it was a brief second, but you caught it nonetheless, the glance nico made toward you that said everything all at once. before you could comment, trevor and jack appeared, the latter having the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in awhile.

“who’s ready for dinner?” jack asked.

then

“if i was a worm, would you still love me?”

“what?” jack laughed, hands buried in your hair as you rested you head in his lap.

“if i was a worm--”

“no, i heard you. i was just giving you an opportunity to say something else.” you slapped his chest lightly with your hand and abruptly sat up before scooting towards the other side of the couch. “hey no, come back.”

“not until you say that you’d still love me as a worm.”

“would i even know it was you? how did you turn into a worm?”

“an evil wizard came down and turned me into a worm. does that answer your question?”

jack grabbed ahold of your ankles and dragged you back to him. he pressed his lips to the side of your head and smiled. “i’d love you even if you were the smallest worm.”

now

jack picked out a small italian restaurant twenty minutes away from the arena. when he finally pulled up to the building (all of you riding together), your stomach sank. it looked all too familiar.

the last time you’d been there, was the last date you had before you broke things off. part of you wondered if he selected that place on purpose, but the more rational part knew it was his favorite spot in town.

the five of you walked in and got a table. it didn’t go unnoticed that as you all sat down, the only seat left was next to your ex boyfriend.

“it’s nice to have the gang back together,” nico said. “i missed you guys.” you wanted to look down at the table, but when nico made eye contact with you and smiled, you were glad you didn’t.

“are you ready to order?” the server came up and asked. “i can give you a few minutes if you’d like.”

you panicked and looked down at the menu. you hadn’t been here in so long you couldn’t recall what you enjoyed the most. by the time it made it to you, you were no closer to figuring it out.

“you okay?” jack mumbled.

you looked up to see his earnest eyes focused on you and you alone. not the boys, not the pretty server, just you.

“i can’t remember what i usually get.”

jack reached over and pointed to the top left spot on the menu. “you used to get the carbonara.” but you weren’t looking at the menu. no. you were looking at his profile, how focused he was at reading the ingredients to make sure it was something you liked.

you knew it because it’s what he used to do all the time.

“i’ll get the carbonara, please,” you said with a small smile.

the server walked away to place the table’s orders and conversation picked up again.

“so,” trevor started, staring you down across the table with something akin to smugness on his face. “are you seeing anyone?”

“trev,” jack cut in.

“no, i think we should let her answer,” nico said. “i mean, it’s been awhile since we’ve all been together and caught up.”

“i--” you choked out, your heart beating hard in your chest.

“guys cmon,” jack started. “just leave it.”

there was something in you that sparked up at hearing his insistence you keep quiet. something that rebelled against the idea of staying silent.

so you spoke.

“i’ve been on a few dates.”

and the absolute devastation of jack’s face was enough to make you want to take it all back.

then

“do you really think that baseball cap is gonna hide your very recognizable face?” you asked him as you walked into yost ice arena.

“i’m hoping people will be too busy focusing on the game to look at me.”

“how could anyone ignore this handsome face?” you asked, taking your hand and squeezing his cheeks into a fish face.

he smacked your hand away and gripped it in his own, swinging it between both of your bodies. the both of you walked over to the row of seats his family saved.

his mother and father smiled at the sight of you. bringing you into a hug like you were a part of their family. and maybe, to them, you were. you and jack had been together for the better part of three years at that point.

despite not having seen his family in a few months, jack still sat on the outside with you tucked in between him and his mother with his hand resting on your thigh.

a shiver went up your spine spontaneously. jack shot you a look before he threw an arm around your shoulder, bringing you in as close as he could with an arm rest between you two.

“you okay?”

“just forgot how cold ice rinks are,” you replied in hopes he wouldn’t notice your flushed face. three years and that man could still do that to you.

"you get used to it after awhile,” he said as he kissed the side of your head.

no, you thought. i don’t think i will.

now

dinner wasn’t as lively as it once was after your confession. trevor and nico tried to compensate, hell even quinn was making an attempt at conversation, but it was obvious you and jack’s hearts weren’t in it.

he wouldn’t stop staring at you from the corner of his eye and you couldn’t help but stare at the food he remembered you loved right before you shattered his heart again.

it wasn’t long before the five of you were headed home after nico covered the bill. jack drove, leaving you in shotgun, and everyone else in the backseat pretending the tension wasn’t suffocating. jack dropped the boys off at the arena, with nico saying he could take quinn and trevor to their hotels before they all but scrambled out of the car.

which just left the two of you idling in the parking lot.

after jack saw them get into nico’s car, you fully expected him to drive off and take you home. but he just sat there.

“how long did you wait before trying to find someone else?” he asked while staring out the windshield.

“it wasn’t like that--”

“then what was it like? what was i supposed to think? we’ve been broken up for five months now and you’ve been on multiple dates?” his voice escalated.

part of you wanted to shrink back into the seat until you disappeared into the leather, the masochistic part of you fully believed this was what you deserved, the third part felt like a cornered predator.

and that’s what won out in the end.

“oh don’t act like you haven’t gone out with some girls--”

“i haven’t!” that shut you up really quickly. “i haven’t so much as looked at another girl since you broke up with me.” he finally looked at you, but you wished he wouldn’t have. the tears in his eyes triggered that part of you that you’d stifled the past few weeks, the part that constantly reminded you how fucked up you were.

so you did the only thing you knew how to do.

you unlocked the door--

and bolted.

then

you were signing discharge papers when jack burst into your hospital room sweating and disheveled. you smiled when he came in, using one hand to wave him closer.

“what the hell were you thinking? falling off a ladder? what was so important you couldn’t wait until i got home?” he walked over to you and straight into your arms anyway, despite his chiding tone.

the nurse took the papers away to be filed and left him with you.

“it’s just a broken ankle,” you said like one would talk about the weather. “it’ll be healed in a matter of weeks.”

jack pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “i don’t like it. i hate that you got hurt and i wasn’t there.”

“the only one at fault here is me, jack. i was trying to hang up...” you trailed off.

“hang up what?” he asked.

but the nurse came back in with a wheelchair and a smile. “you’re free to go, hon.”

jack wheeled you out to the lobby. the nurse waited with you while he pulled his car up. when his car was parked in the front, he ran back inside and helped you get settled onto your crutches, walking behind you with his hands prepared to catch you should you slip. he helped you into the passenger seat before jogging around the front of the car to drive off.

“so what were you hanging up when you fell off the ladder?”

you smirked. “you’ll see.”

jack rolled his eyes. “if it’s the pictures we got printed, i told you i’d get to it.”

“like i said, baby, you’ll see when you get home.”

he parked in the driveway and told you to stay put until he could help you get out of the car. once you were situated on your crutches, he glanced at you, your leg, and the stairs you would inevitably have to climb before he squatted down and gestured for you to climb on.

“jack, i don’t think this is necessary--”

“i think it’ll go faster if you just hop on and get it over with.”

you sighed and climbed on his back with one arm loosely wrapped around his neck, the other holding onto your crutches, his arms holding your legs in place around his hips. jack went up the stairs with little to no struggle, which just baffled you. even after living in your third floor apartment for eight months, you still found yourself winded after going up all those steps.

“each and every day you find a new way to impress me, hughes,” you commented,

“yeah? what is it this time?”

“how you don’t feel like dying every time you walk up these stairs.”

he laughed but didn’t offer a response.

“no, i’m serious,” you said. “what’s your secret.”

“being a professional athlete,’ he deadpanned.

you threw your head back and laughed as his foot hit the final stair. jack gently placed you down on the ground while you got situated on your crutches again.

“you good?” he asked.

you nodded. “i’m fine.”

jack unlocked the front door and nearly fell backwards into you when a loud “happy birthday” erupted from inside your apartment.

you nudged him forward with your non injured foot but he took a moment to glare at you. “you broke your leg to hang up birthday banners?”

you leaned in and kissed him. “happy birthday, jack.”

now

“get in the car.” jack had opened his door and gotten out almost as fast as you had.

but you shook your head and kept walking. “no.”

jack caught up to you rather easily, being in better shape than you for professional reasons. he gently grabbed your wrist and turned you around. “i don’t know who you think i am but i’m not leaving you here. it’s late, we’re in the middle of a parking lot--”

“it’s well lit--”

“and you’re not wearing a coat,” he continued on like you weren’t even talking. “you’re gonna get sick or kidnapped so please just get back in the car.”

“i can’t,” you whispered.

“why not?”

“because you keep looking at me like you hate me.”

that stopped him dead cold in his tracks. any movement he had, whether it was his hands running through his hair or his pacing back and forth. “what?” and you wanted to take it all back just so you didn’t have to hear how broken one syllable could sound.

and then the tears started, the embarrassment and humiliation and the shame from your confession earlier catching up to you finally. “and i don’t blame you because i was awful to you."

“why would you think that?”

“because everyone does!” and you’re so close to tearing your hair out in frustration. with whom? you weren’t sure if it was frustration aimed at yourself or jack or the situation.

“i’m not everyone,” he said in the quietest tone you’d ever heard him speak. “okay? i could never hate you, even if i wanted to.”

you kept sobbing. “you are way too good for me, jack hughes.”

but he shook his head and brought you into his chest, lips pressed to the top of your head. “that’s not true,” he said. “not even remotely close.” a beat passed. “i love you.”

“jack--”

he took your hand and placed it over his chest. “feel my fucking heartbeat right now and tell me i don’t love you.”

“i can’t do this,” you whispered.

“why not? do you not believe me?”

“i’m no good for you, jack! this won’t work. please, just take me home.”

then

a knock drew you out of your reverie from staring at the mirror and obsessing over your flyaways.

“it’s for you!” your roommate called. you giggled. actually giggled to yourself at the idea of jack standing in your living room with your roommates.

you rushed out, dress flaring at your thighs. jack turned around at the sound of you coming out of your room and smiled with a bouquet daffodils in his hands.

“you uh--” he stuttered. “you look amazing.”

“do a little twirl,” your roommate giggled.

you spun around before walking over to jack. “hi.”

“are you ready?” he asked once he got his bearings.

you nodded. “just let me put these in a vase--”

“i got it!” your roommate said. “you two have fun!” she said before all but shoving you out of the door.

“so what do you have planned?” you asked once you were on the road. you weren’t nervous per se, having known jack for a year before he finally asked you out.

“would you stop?” he laughed. “you’ll find out when we get there.”

you huffed and sat back in your seat, looking out the window while jack played some country music on his phone. when he finally parked, you recognized the arena almost immediately as the one he played in regularly.

“you took your day off from the ice rink to bring me...to the ice rink?”

jack rolled his eyes. “have some faith. stay here,” he said before popping out of the car and jogging around to your side to let you out.

“i could’ve gotten out myself,” you said.

“i know,” he shrugged. “but thank you for waiting anyway.”

you walked inside together, hand in hand. jack led you to the locker rooms where he picked up a bag and took your hand again before leading you to the rink.

before you was a blanket in the middle of the rink with a basket full of what you assumed was food.

“you didn’t,” you said.

jack shrugged.

“but how are we gonna get out there? i don’t have skates.”

he unzipped the bag in his hand and pulled out a pair of skates. “your roommate told me what size shoe you wore. i figured we could eat and then i could show you how to skate.” he explained.

“you bought these?” you asked.

he shrugged again. “yeah, but it was nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing to you. it was everything.

now

you get the call at 4pm from an athletic trainer asking for your name. your heart settles in your throat when you hear the mention of jack’s name.

“there’s been an accident at the game tonight, he’s being rushed to the hospital right now. we called because he has you listed as his emergency contact.”

“o-okay,” you whispered into the phone. “which hospital is he going to?” the athletic trainer gave you the information as you hurried out the door in a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and slippers.

you didn’t remember to go the speed limit, hell by the time you got to the hospital, you weren’t even sure if you ran a red light or not. all you could focus on was jack.

jack was hurt.

you needed to call ellen. you needed to call jim. you needed to call that old lady who lived across the hall and ask her to check if you locked your front door. but all of that took a backseat because jack was hurt.

when you parked, you were taking up two spaces, but didn’t give a fuck because you were sprinting to the front doors of the hospital. “hi,” you greeted the front desk woman. “i’m here for my boyfriend?”

“you’ll have to be a little more specific, baby,” she said.

“i--”

you heard your name being called and whipped your head around to see the athletic trainer standing there. “i can show you to his room, follow me.”

you nearly cried in relief and followed the trainer. “do you know what’s going on?”

the trainer shook her head. “we had an idea, but we’re not doctors.”

you nodded, unable to say anything else, even as you entered the elevator. the both of you walked out of the elevator and headed down a long hallway to the very end. she gestured at the door and nodded for you to go in.

you couldn’t breathe. not when even when you saw him laying in bed laughing at a tiktok on his phone with his left leg propped up.

he looked up when you walked in the room. “hey--” but he didn’t have time to finish before you were sprinting across the room, grabbing his face in your hands, and kissing the life out of him.

it took him a second, but he responded fairly quickly, his own hands winding around your waist. you weren’t sure how much time passed before you were pulling away and looking him in the eyes.

“are you okay?” he nodded, rendered speechless by your display of affection. “i’m sorry, they called me and i freaked out and i didn’t even get to change--”

“did you--” he looked at you, more specifically what you were wearing. “you’re not wearing pants or a coat. are you insane? it’s freezing outside and you’re not even wearing real shoes!”

“they said you were hurt,” you said like it explained everything. “i couldn’t think, i just dropped everything and...”

“why?

“i--”

“you rejected me the other night, which is fine, it sucked, but it’s fine. but it doesn’t explain why you showed up. i think i at least deserve an answer.”

you do, you thought to yourself. that and so much more.

“i’m your emergency contact,” you replied.

“shit,” he said. “sorry i forgot to change that, i’ll--”

“and you’re still mine.” he stopped his rambling as you stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “when i got the call, i thought i was gonna lose you.”

“you’re never gonna lose me, baby.” he moved your hands off his face so he could hold yours. “i’m yours, always have been, always will be.”

“i love you,” you smiled.

and it was like the sun came out in the middle of that hospital room when he smiled back at you. jack pulled your lips to his, or at least tried to. you both kept smiling too much for it to fully be considered a kiss.

“do you remember,” you said against his mouth. “do you remember when you moved out and took all our stuff?”

“mhm,” he hummed, but he was too busy chasing after your lips.

“i kept the skates.”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #my writing

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hannahssimblr · 7 months ago

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Jen is fully awake, bright eyed and stomping around looking at the art when we arrive at the gallery. I suspect she's hopped up on sugar after I bought her a plate of overpriced pancakes in a cafe in the middle of town.

“Woman, yearning,” after reading aloud from a gallery placard next to an abstract work she stands back to ponder it for several seconds. “Where’s the woman? I just see blobs. Ugly blobs too.”

“Is that a serious question or are you just giving out?”

“I’m offering my critiques,” she says haughtily, narrowing her eyes at it. “The point is that I wouldn’t hang that in my house.”

“Hang it where? It’s like, fifteen feet tall.”

“Well, all I’ll say is that I’m now a woman, yearning for my ten seconds back.”

Evie titters.

“Don’t encourage her,” I mutter, “It’s better to ignore it. She did this when I took her to the zoo once too.”

“You don’t like the zoo?” Jen doesn’t hear her because she’s already rushing to the next room, and as I suspect, to the merciful end as quickly as possible. I answer for her, “No, she hated it.”

“Was it the sad animals?”

“No, her feet just hurt. There was too much walking.”

The room we follow Jen into is stark and completely bare, save for an enormous, rusted iron sculpture dangling by a chain from the ceiling. I know what she is going to say about it before she does.

“I just don’t understand how this is art. It’s just ugly, and it makes no sense to me. I’m sorry if that makes me sound ignorant, but I just don’t see the skill in this.”

“It’s not really about the skill though. It’s all in the process,” I'm explaining this for probably the fourth time this hour, but I can see in Jen’s face that she's frustrated, genuinely so, and I really do feel bad for her. While it was nice of her to come, I feel I should have just let her stay at home and hang out on the beach with one of her magazines for the day.

Evie bends to read the placard, “It’s supposed to evoke a reaction, and I guess you being confused by it counts as a reaction, so you could say that it’s done its job,” She turns and flashes a sympathetic smile at Jen. This is a very nice thing she’s done, attempting to help her to relate to the art, but I suspect from the aura of complete resignation emanating from her that we are past the point where such a thing is possible.

As a last ditch effort I try to gently explain the purpose of modern art in a way that sounds accessible, and not like I’m just regurgitating my art history textbook, but her eyes have glazed over. She doesn’t care about the sculpture, she doesn’t care about what it means or how it’s intended to make her feel, she’s simply had enough.

“I don’t know, guys, I think I'm going to go browse in the gift shop. I’m not picking up what this exhibition is putting down,” she trudges off towards the stairs and leaves us on our own, her footsteps echoing, distant, then gone.

I’m aware of the quiet once she isn’t there anymore, poking fun at the exhibit, and Evie, who was quiet already, becomes even more so. As she examines the sculpture for longer, I wonder what meaning she’s found in it. Really, to me it is just kind of a big rusted lump, but I’m nervous about admitting that to a person who seems to understand what she's looking at. I stand and pretend to enjoy it for an amount of time that feels more acceptable.

When she wanders into the next room I follow. This one has an old TV in the corner, and sunlight streaming in through the big sash windows catching specks of dust drifting through the air. We watch this uncomfortable performance art video of a man stripping down to his underwear and climbing into a bed. It feels sexual in nature, while also feeling kind of weird and not that way at all. I don’t know the intention, or which emotion it’s supposed to awaken in me. I say “cool” so that she thinks I understand the point of it, though I’ve never much liked performance art. I find it embarrassing to watch.

I don’t think she’s going to try and make any kind of conversation, but maybe she doesn’t want to make too much noise in an art gallery. Maybe she’s shy. My nose runs so I sniff, and even that sounds offensively loud.

“So what’s your deal?” I ask her as we move onto another exhibit.

She pauses, surprised, “To be honest, there’s not much to say about me.”

“Of course there is.”

“No, well,” she laughs self consciously, “I’m not that interesting, is all. I don’t want to bore you.”

“Seriously, I want to know.”

Her eyes dart around the room as though she might find something to distract the conversation away from herself, then failing, says, “Like, Tullamore is dull, I go to an all girls’ school and really, nothing very interesting happens day to day.”

I exhale a laugh. These are her bullet points. I bet this is what she says to everyone to make them stop asking. Unfortunately for her I'm only comfortable when someone is speaking. “So you wish you could leave.”

She makes a small sound of agreement, and then says nothing for a few seconds. From the centre of the room I watch her drift about glancing at the works. “Yeah,” she says eventually, “all the time. I kind of feel like… I don’t know, like I don’t belong there or something. It’s a small town and I think I’m just a bit different from a lot of people.”

“I understand that.”

She nods, “I’d love to be somewhere with likeminded people. That’s why I really envy you going to Berlin, I just imagine what it’d be like to be able to be fully myself and everyone would be just… fine with it.”

She envies me? Already? She won’t for long. “Oh well, it was an easy choice for me. I feel the same as you sometimes too, like, I just want to know what else is out there. I don’t want to go back to the US, but I don’t really want to stay in Ireland either. I don’t know about needing to be a different person though. Don’t you think that if you were yourself here then people would be fine with it?”

She runs slender fingers along the plush velvet of a barrier, and I’m struck by how easy she makes it to have this conversation, even with the back of her head. I don’t usually talk with strangers like this, but maybe it’s precisely because we are strangers that we can.

Michelle complained sometimes that strange men would corner her on the bus from time to time and start spilling their secrets entirely unsolicited, things like affairs they’d had, money they’d gambled away, unforgivable lies they had told. They unloaded it all on some random girl in her school uniform who couldn’t ruin them, who they’d never see again. I wonder is this like one of those demented conversations. There isn't much about Evie that strikes me as especially demented though. Her openness is refreshing.

“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve such a history of being… odd, and doing weird things, and I don’t know if I can come back from that,” she admits, “I’d rather just start again and be a new, better version of myself somewhere else.”

I suppose she is a bit odd. Not in a bad way, but there’s a certain manner in which she moves, floating about the room, this dreamy cadence to her speech, these brief moments of intensity that cross her face and interrupt that other worldly, spacey look she has. She’s her own person. I'm not surprised stuff is hard for her, since teenagers resent people they cannot understand.

I picture her at my school, how the girls might have spoken about someone like her, what the rugby boys would have thought. Yeah, obviously she’s real fine, imaginary Fitzy says in my head. He’s picking dirt out of his studs with a twig, bit kooky, though, isn't she? Weird. Like she’s an alien from Mars or something like that.

She meanders over to a bench and sits. “What about your friends though?” I join her, “and your boyfriend? Don’t they like this current version of you?”

She squawks out a raucous laugh that ricochets through the room, and several people look at us. Her eyes widen and she clamps her hands over her mouth, like what I just heard was the expulsion of a demon and not just a natural laugh, “Sorry, I don’t know what that was!”

“Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Sorry, your reaction was just-”

“No no, just you said that Liam is my boyfriend and-”

“Oh, shit, he’s not? My bad, I just assumed,” I assumed because he told me as much. Was he lying or does he just not know?

“No, he’s not. I don’t know what he is, we just hang out and stuff. He’s a really nice person.”

“He is,” I debate whether to say more. “Hm. I always feel so bad about Liam.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we used to be so mean to him when we were younger.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was just this happy little kid, he always wanted to be involved with us, but it was like, he was always way too eager, you know what I mean? We thought he was this hokey little country boy, we used to think it was really funny to mess with him.”

“What kinds of things did you do?”

“Nothing terrible. Just… it was more like…” I shouldn’t have started this conversation, “He thought that we were really grown up or something, I guess, and he wanted to come and hang out the whole time, which was fine. The guys just had this thing about not sharing our drink with him, you know, because it’d be a waste because he’d just end up getting sick and having to get his mother to come and pick him up from the party. So we started pouring him drinks out of a vodka bottle filled with water, and he never noticed.”

“That’s not bad” Evie says charitably, “That’s actually responsible in my opinion, and I honestly wish that Kelly would fall for that kind of trick, but she can sniff out alcohol like a bloodhound.”

“Nah, like the bad part is how much he really didn’t notice it. It was like a crazy placebo effect or something, and he’d still stumble around like he was drunk. We thought it was hilarious. And then one time when we were fifteen Joe got weed from this guy in town and everyone wanted some, but like, Liam was there and we knew it’d be a bad idea to give him some.”

“So what did you do?”

“The classic - I got some herbs from the kitchen cabinet and rolled them up for him, and then guess what?”

“He didn’t notice?”

“Right! He didn’t even notice. He smoked our little fake joint and then-” God, why am I laughing? Shouldn't this story have stopped being funny? “-and then after an hour he was rolling around on the rug saying that he could taste colours and that like, the fibres of the rug felt so soft. We had to get his mother to collect him again.” It’s my turn to let out an obnoxious, echoing cackle, and once again, everyone in the room looks at us.

“You’re a mean boy,” Evie chides, but she doesn’t look like she means it. She looks like she likes it.

“I know. I’m a bastard.”

I get to my feet. “We should go and see the rest of the exhibits. I don’t want to leave Jen down in the gift shop all day, she’ll be bored.”

Evie’s smile wavers, but she nods, “Okay. Sorry... I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

“You didn’t, I just thought you’d be rearing to see the rest of the art.”

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating, “it’s a bit unusual, isn’t it?”

I chuckle, “To be honest I’m not sure I like it.”

“Oh, thank God you said that. I hate it too, I didn’t think I was allowed to say it.”

We giggle and I swerve straight for the exit. “C'mon then, let's do something else.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

#lucky boy 2010 #Jude was always controversial for saying this stuff about Liam #but i never decided if it was intentionally malicious or not #i guess i still don't know #important anyway i guess cos it comes up later

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satansapostle6 · 7 months ago

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The Best of the Worst | Charlie Kelly

Charlie Kelly noticed the pretty blonde girl just as Dennis Reynolds tried to make her into another one of his conquests.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Part One

Part Two: Juliette Loses Her Job

Juliette Grant was late for work. She hated her job waitressing at Guigino’s. It was one of the most boring and irritating jobs she’d worked. The only reason she’d stayed this long was for the decent pay. Otherwise, she probably would’ve quit a year ago.

But for some reason, she’d decided the almost good money was enough for her to deal with the frustrating hours and irritating customers. The day before, when she had met a guy named Charlie Kelly, she had had a rare experience of a customer willing to acknowledge his friend’s poor treatment of her, and an even rarer experience of a guy who liked her who was actually nice.

“Juliette?”

Juliette turned as she finished setting down a plate of spaghetti for a customer to find one of the waiters, Danny, was standing behind her.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“John wants to talk to you,” her coworker informed her.

The manager at Guigino’s.

“What does he want?” Juliette questioned.

Danny just shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Juliette rested her hands on her back, sighing as she walked off to the back office to speak with her manager. She walked out of the office about ten minutes later, a thousand yard stare on her face.

“Hey,” Lexi, one of the other waitresses that she’d made casual work friends with, said as she approached her. “What happened?”

Juliette slowly turned to look at her, unable to zone back in.

“I just got fired.”

*****

An hour later, Juliette was still outside of Guigino’s, sitting in the back alley and smoking. No one approached her for the entire hour that she was outside. She hardly even saw anyone pass by, until she heard someone clear their throat.

“Hey…”

Juliette slowly looked up, face stained with mascara-coated tears.

“Hey!” Charlie Kelly exclaimed, immediately flopping on his butt to sit next to her in the dirty alleyway. “What’s wrong?!”

Juliette looked at him as she sniffled tearfully, barely able to speak.

“I—”

Charlie waited patiently as she cried, choking on her words.

“I got fired!” Juliette sobbed, still holding the lit cigarette.

“Why would they do that?!” Charlie cried out automatically.

”I don’t know!” she wailed. “They just… got mad at how many smoke breaks I was taking! And then this other waitress started a rumor that I do heroin…!”

“Oh my God, that’s horrible!” Charlie exclaimed. “What a bitch!”

“I know!” Juliette sighed, looking down at herself shamefully.

Charlie frowned empathetically, trying to help clean her up as his way of being helpful. He reached for the lit cigarette in her hand, which was still suspended in midair.

“Do you mind?”

“Yeah,” Juliette nodded, still sniffling as Charlie took the cigarette.

But instead of taking a drag like she thought he was going to, Charlie took the cigarette from her and lightly ashed it, so that he could save it for her. He held the half-smoked cigarette in his hand as he looked at her, saddened by the way the tears stained her face.

“Can I…?”

“Yeah,” Juliette nodded somewhat pathetically.

Charlie sighed, licking his thumb as he gently rubbed at her face, trying to wipe away the tears. Normally, Juliette would’ve found this behavior from a stranger to be a bit disgusting, but in this case, she found it was endearing and reminded her of her grandmother.

“I gotta get this off,” Charlie mumbled to himself, “You’re so pretty…”

Juliette looked at him, smiling slightly at the genuine compliment.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, feeling guilty.

“It’s okay,” she murmured.

Charlie cleared his throat again, stopping as he tried to think of the right thing to say.

“Did your manager yell at you when he fired you?” he asked her.

“No. He’s a good guy… He said he didn’t really wanna fire me, but the other waitress threatened to get corporate involved,” she told him.

“Oh. Well, at least he didn’t yell at you,” Charlie offered with a certain naïveté. “Dennis yells at me all the time. So does Dee. And Mac. Almost everyone,” he concluded, still sounding oddly chipper.

“That sucks,” Juliette said sadly.

“Yeah. It’s whatever, though. They’re my friends,” he shrugged it off.

He sat silent for a while, trying to think of something good to say. Charlie never knew what to say to people, especially more normal people; it seemed he was always saying the wrong thing. It had never really bothered him before, but just this once, he wanted to say the right thing and sweep the girl off her feet. Or at least comfort her in the moment. That, he figured, was the most important thing.

“Are…”

Charlie tried to come up with the right way to say what he wanted to say as Juliette waited patiently.

“Are you my friend?” he asked her.

She nodded, finding herself more than willing to be friends with him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

*****

Juliette unlocked the door to her apartment, letting Charlie in before her.

“This is your place?” he asked, looking around in awe.

“Yeah,” she nodded, shutting the door behind her.

Charlie wandered into her small living room, full of framed movie posters and leather furniture.

“It’s… really nice,” he stared at every individual thing in the room. “Are you rich?”

“No,” Juliette chuckled, “Far from it.”

“Your place is pretty nice,” Charlie told her, “Way nicer than mine. I’m surprised you let me come here.”

“Why?” Juliette wondered. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Charlie smiled, liking hearing her say it.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are,” he nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile on his face.

“Normally, I don’t let men I just met into my home the day after I meet them, but… You seem cool,” she said finally.

“Huh,” Charlie remarked, seeming surprised.

“What?” Juliette questioned.

“No, nothing, it’s just… People don’t usually think I’m cool,” he explained.

“Well, I do,” she promised him, setting her purse down. “But, I’ll admit, I do have one question.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Why… were you outside Guigino’s today?” she wondered, looking into his kind brown eyes.

Surprisingly, Charlie was quick to answer.

“To see you,” he concluded, as if it wasn’t so hard to understand.

Juliette found herself wanting to smile.

“Why?”

“Because… I like you?” he thought, hoping it was the right answer.

“You do?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded. “You’re cool, and you’re nice, and I just… I wanna, like, get to know you and stuff.”

“‘Get to know me’ like how?” she asked quietly.

Most guys would have said something sleazy or not true by this point, but not Charlie.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Like… know your birthday, or your favorite food, or your favorite game to play.”

Juliette couldn’t hide the look of pure joy on her face, laughing involuntarily. Charlie had to have been the most pure person she had ever know.

“What?” Charlie asked nervously.

Everything about this had seemed unfamiliar to him, until he heard someone laughing at him.

“What?” he questioned. “What did I say?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Juliette promised him in a hurry, trying to reassure him. “Just…”

She sighed after a moment.

“October thirteenth, french fries, and poker.”

Charlie was confused for a moment, until he realized what she was responding to.

“Okay,” he nodded excitedly, “Okay! Cool!”

“So…” Juliette began, giving Charlie her final test as a potential male friend or love interest. “What do you wanna do?” she asked him.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged innocently. “Watch a movie, or something?” he suggested.

Juliette nodded willingly. “Yeah, sure. Anything specific in mind?”

“I don’t really know that many movies,” Charlie admitted sheepishly.

“Have you ever seen Donnie Darko?” Juliette asked him.

“No,” he told her, “But I want to.”

“You’ve heard of it?” she asked.

“No,” he responded truthfully. “But you like it, right?”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” she nodded.

“Then I wanna watch it.”

Chapter Three

#charlie kelly #charlie day #charlie day fanfic #charlie kelly x reader #charlie kelly fic #sunnyblr #its always sunny in philadelphia #its always sunny in philly #iasip

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lucky-clover-gazette · 7 months ago

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captive prince book 1 highlights & annotations

chapter 5

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Laurent moved off a few steps. Damen saw him lift a hand to the back of his own neck, as if to release tension. Saw him do nothing for a moment but stand and be quiet and breathe the cool air scented with night flowers. It occurred to Damen for the first time that Laurent might have his own reasons for wanting to escape the attention of the court.

i appreciate this hint of their future dynamic :)

A silence opened up around Laurent’s words. In it, their meaning changed. Herode began, ‘I—’ Then he looked at Damen, and his expression grew alarmed. ‘Is this safe? He’s broken his leash. Guard!’

context: laurent needs herode to think that damen deserved the flogging, so he took him somewhere private and broke his bindings, framing damen as disobedient. nice moment ruined >:(

‘If you’re concerned that my memory for wrongs against me is longer than ten months,’ said Laurent, ‘there’s no need for anxiety. I am sure you can persuade me you were genuinely mistaken.’

translation: “make it up to me, disloyal coward.” the way laurent deals with this person, who lacks loyalty and integrity, foreshadows how much he will struggle to hate damen, who has more loyalty and integrity than any sane person probably should

‘How thoughtful of you, Councillor,’ said Laurent. ‘He turned to Damen and said in a melting voice, ‘Your back must hurt terribly.’ ‘It’s fine,’ said Damen. ‘Kneel on the ground, then,’ Laurent said.

absolutely no strategy here, laurent just sucks. "oh you're comfortable for once? let's see what i can do about that." also the fact that laurent is trying to appear likable to herode but still cannot resist being a bitch to damen is sooo funny

His best feature was a pair of amazing blue eyes, unmatched by any Damen had ever seen, except for the ones he had recently been staring into.

damen has a talent for thirsting over laurent in the most backhanded manner possible

His skin was fair and his curling light brown hair was burnished with gold. He was exactly the type that Damen could have drawn down onto the sheets and spent a very pleasant couple of hours enjoying.

damen likes blondes mention #4. erasmus barely scrapes by, but the word “gold” tells us everything we need to know

‘Well?’ Laurent said. ‘Can you couple adequately, or do you just kill things?’

god he sucks. also, “adequate.”

Damen thought that given the choice between the lash and a conversation with Laurent, he might actually choose the lash.

‘He’s not very talkative,’ remarked Vannes. ‘It comes and goes,’ said Laurent.

laurent continues to shoulder the burden of being the funniest bitch in this entire court

Damen was sickened by the idea of some nobleman’s boy offering himself up to be hurt on the assumption that it would play to Laurent’s tastes. Then he thought of all he knew of Laurent, and only felt sicker, because of course the boy’s assumptions were probably correct.

context: i don’t think laurent is an equal-opportunity sadist, or even a sadist at all. he just really hates damen specifically, and mirrors the viciousness of his culture to survive

If there was anything explicit on view, it must be the absence of all desire to be where he was.

the garden scene. okay.

first, context: a possible explanation for laurent volunteering damen could be a desire to see him experience a similar situation to his own abuse from his uncle, since damen is the reason laurent lost his protector. however, that doesn’t quite sound right to me, because wouldn’t seeing this whole tableau just re-traumatize laurent? then again, laurent’s life in the veretian court is pretty much endless re-traumatization, all day every day. so i suppose in his mind, he might as well get something out of his own shitty circumstances, and that something in this case is revenge. misery loves company, after all.

also, sex to laurent is a matter of control and power, rather than love or pleasure. so to him, both this and the fighting ring might feel the same as any other kind of violence. he doesn’t care about the additional violation that sexual assault carries towards his enemies—and at the end of the day, laurent knows that he himself has probably been through worse.

the exception to this is nicaise, or anyone else who laurent deems innocent and disempowered. those people, he will try to protect to the very best of his ability. but at this point in the series, laurent sees damen not only as a shitty person, but also a shitty person with power. he knows that damen is not a slave, but a prince. a prince who keeps slaves of his own. so in laurent-brain, i can see how this could be twisted into something justifiable. or just not worth justifying at all.

it still isn’t right, though. they could have done this and been just as horny about it with, like, dubious consent rather than none. i think i would feel more comfortable finding elements of this scene hot if that were the case, but i respect and appreciate that the point of this book is not simply to Be Hot. and to be fair—instant gratification, moral simplicity, and straightforward execution are not very compelling qualities for an erotic scene to possess. i’m just glad that the rest of the sex-adjacent scenes in this series between damen and laurent are explicitly consensual, because this scene would be harder to accept within the series’s ethical framework and the development of their love story if it happened multiple times.

i want to analyze the craft here, but i feel uncomfortable dissecting what i know to be a non-consensual scene in order to determine what makes it hot. but i also know, undeniably, that the events of this scene are hot, and that hotness was almost certainly written on purpose.

for me, the hotness does not come from the lack of consent itself, but rather the action and dialogue happening on the page. i don’t think the lack of consent is necessarily meant to be hot here—it’s the absolute insanity of laurent’s approach to oral sex, and the power dynamic it creates, that makes the scene memorable. and those elements could easily be reproduced in a consensual scene and have the same effect. so i want to study those elements specifically, to see how they work as erotic writing, removed from the parts that don’t.

tl;dr: the garden scene is unequivocally non-consensual. however, it is written in a way that eroticizes the circumstances. i can still study the writing where it is effective without finding the circumstances of the scene morally justifiable or hot, in fiction or real life.

anyway. i'm trying to study the craft of scenes like this, so i'm going full analysis on this one. garden scene, summarized:

setup: laurent is rumored to be frigid and does not partake in the sexual activities of veretian nobility. yet he goes along with this tableau, allowing damen to be used as a participant. i do not think that this is for laurent’s own sexual gratification, because i don’t think laurent is in touch with his own sexuality in general. sex means something different to laurent than it does to damen, and the other characters in the scene, and (i’d hope) to the reader as well.

beginning: ancel isn’t damen’s type. damen has no strong feelings about ancel as a person. he is not attracted to ancel’s frivolity or weak will. being serviced by ancel is not doing anything for damen. he feels smug about this. it gives him power over laurent, who has permitted this tableau in order to emphasize the power he has over damen.

then: laurent—who is damen’s type, his worst enemy, and the reason he’s in this situation in the first place—starts coaching ancel on how to give head. laurent is completely methodical and detached with his instructions, and is clearly focusing on psychologically tormenting damen, rather than getting off on the display. in other words, he is neither frivolous nor weak-willed. he’s exactly the opposite.

meanwhile: damen, our pov character, is no longer immune to whatever the fuck is going on in this scene. he is into this and can’t hide it. he has lost the power he briefly had over laurent, and now possesses even less power than he started with. not only is he owned by laurent in the technical sense, but he is being owned by laurent in the horny sense too.

and i believe that the intention is for the reader to understand how he's feeling—not to blame him for his interest, because this situation is clearly compelling, to damen and possibly the person reading. laurent’s ability to essentially mindfuck damen across the room, fully clothed, is honestly insane. cs pacat herself says that about laurent in a commentary video—he’s a mindfucker. it’s intentional and it’s the focal point of the scene. much later on in the series, i think damen even admits that he was paying attention to laurent the whole time. it’s hot. it just is.

i’ll point out more specific things in the following passages, but that’s the gist of it. i'm cringing so hard posting this publicly, but if heterosexual women on booktok can post their whole-ass face and gps location while fangirling over colleen hoover sex scenes, i think i can share my messy gay mindfucking analysis on a website that hasn't been a part of the public consciousness since like 2017

Laurent was watching Damen’s face with the same cerebral attention that he might apply to a strategic problem. ‘He likes that. Do it harder,’ said Laurent.

craft note: laurent openly observes damen’s responses, notices exactly what works, tells ancel to do that specifically because “he likes it,” and that turns damen on even more

personal note: oh my god

Damen could feel his thighs tighten, then, minutely, spread, his breath quickening in his chest... He turned towards Laurent. It was a mistake to look at him. Even in the shadows of evening, Damen could see the relaxed arrangement of Laurent’s body, the marmoreal perfection of his features, and the detached unconcern with which he gazed at Damen, not bothering to so much as glance down at Ancel’s moving head.

craft note: damen loses his resolve, looks to laurent for mercy, and is just even more mindfucked by the fact that laurent is completely unaffected, not even interested at all

If you believed the Prince’s Guard, Laurent was the impregnable citadel, and took no lovers at all. Right now Laurent gave the impression of a mind somewhat engaged, and a body wholly aloof, untouched by ardour. The ribald fancy of the Prince’s Guard held a kernel of plausibility. On the other hand, the aloof, untouched Laurent was at this moment delivering a precise treatise on cocksucking.

god, this is SO fucking good. damen is basically admitting that he can’t believe laurent is entirely sexless, because he is managing to fuck him without even having sex at all.

craft note: that is the perfect moment to insert a crass word, after paragraphs of more clinical descriptions. i love that the only time we hear “cocksucking” in this scene is in reference to laurent not actually sucking cock, while it is (intentionally, i assume) not used in reference to the actual cocksucking that’s happening on the page.

also, "precise treatise" cracks me up, as someone currently writing what could be considered a precise treatise on this scene.

The image of Ancel... was joined in his fragmenting thoughts by the sudden harsh desire to get his hands on Laurent’s body and exact revenge—both for his actions and for his airy absence.

damen’s desire to get laurent’s attention because he wants to fight him, but also because he wants laurent to see him come… diabolical writing. craft. whatever. this is an objective and academic analysis.

Damen was... pushed back down onto his knees. Laurent was seated opposite, legs crossed. Damen’s eyes fixed on him, and looked nowhere else; his breathing was still noticeable, and his pulse rapid, but anger produced all the same effects.

who’s ancel?

additional thoughts on erotic elements in the garden scene: i think what i like here, is that… yeah, it’s horny. it’s indulgent, easily the most blatant instance of kink we’ve seen so far. but it’s not really what i think frequent readers of this kink genre would expect, or even want to read—it is a subversion, with laurent completely disrupting the basic scenario that everyone else (but damen) in the scene wants to mindlessly enjoy.

but that subversion, to me, just makes it hotter. there’s physical stuff happening, sure, but the real eroticism comes from the words, emotions, and power exchange between laurent and damen. the scene doesn’t give the reader the simplicity of “someone topped, someone bottomed, here are several pages of mechanical description.” the actual sex act is described almost clinically, just how laurent dictates. and it’s definitely not as simple as who’s topping and who’s bottoming—whatever the fuck happens here is way weirder and messier than that, and so much more compelling.

basically, i think that this scene fails to be hot in all the ways a reader of this kink genre would expect it to be hot. the real hotness comes from the bizarre subversion we get instead, that we just have to kind of accept without any closure or explanation. it’s either an unsexy sex scene, or a sexy not-sex scene. maybe it’s both. either way, it’s insane.

how can i replicate this?

set up a thing that follows expectations. don’t actually do the thing. do something significantly more insane than the expected thing. do not elaborate on the insane thing, leaving more questions than answers, and move on as if it wasn’t insane at all. this is a good method for not-sex scenes, too.

Laurent, for his part, was relaxed, one arm spread out over the back of the bench.

laurent lean #4

‘I’ll offer for you, if you like. When the time comes. I wouldn’t want you in my bed, but you’d have all the same privileges. You might prefer that. I’d offer.’

context: this is the best possible way laurent can protect nicaise within the confines of their culture. and “you might prefer that”—laurent wants nicaise to be able to foster his intelligence and talents (his "privileges") as a growing person, without having to be a sexual object.

‘He gives them all up,’ said Laurent, ‘even if you’re more enterprising than the others have been.’ ‘He likes me better than the others.’ A scornful laugh. ‘You’re jealous.’ And then it was Nicaise’s turn to react to something he saw in Laurent’s face, and he said, with a horror Damen didn’t understand, ‘You’re going to tell him you want me.’ ‘Oh,’ said Laurent. ‘No. Nicaise . . . no. That would wreck you. I wouldn’t do that.’ Then his voice became almost tired. ‘Maybe it’s better if you think that I would. You have quite a good mind for strategy, to have thought of that. Maybe you will hold him longer than the others.’ For a moment it seemed as if Laurent would say something else, but in the end he just stood up from the bench, and held his hand out to the boy. ‘Come on. Let’s go. You can watch me get told off by my uncle.’

context: nicaise knows that anything laurent wants, his uncle will not let him have. believing that laurent hates him and would offer for him out of spite, nicaise takes the offer is a threat. laurent, who isn’t threatening him at all, realizes that nicaise is right. laurent’s attempts at protection would only get nicaise hurt. the best he can do is banter with the kid and look after him from a distance. this house is a fucking nightmare.

#there's some uhhhhh vaguely nsft stuff in this one #it's craft analysis. literally just craft analysis. i am doing media literacy.#capri #captive prince #lamen #laurent of vere #damen of akielos #niciase #sam reads capri

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