#when i have time which means i’ll forget in like 24 hours
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seventeen hyung line’s reaction to their youngest member forgetting to take care of themself
choi seungcheol
seungcheol is literally your father (or at least he believes so) so be warned, he will be watching you 24/7
notices the small things, like if your eye bags are particularly dark, and will call you out on it immediately
“how much sleep did you get last night?” he falls onto the couch, occupying the spot next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders
“uh, like 4 hours, i guess,” you ignore the glare he gives you, “but it’s only because i was practicing late…”
he hums as he uses his hand to push your head onto his shoulder
“that’s not enough, kid,” he mumbles into your hairline, “not nearly enough, actually. how about you nap now?
you consider arguing, but you know it’s useless so you just nod and let yourself get comfy against him
he just sits and scrolls through his phone for an hour or so before rearranging you so you’re not leant on him
cant help himself when he sees you with your cheeks squished up against the pillow and takes a photo
carats will love it when he posts it on weverse…
yoon jeonghan
jeonghan takes care of you without even noticing you’re not taking care of yourself
it’s all part of being his baby the youngest
so you’re far from surprised when he comes into your room one day with a cup of ramen in his hands
he says he’s just come to see what you’re doing, but you cant help but notice that in between his own bites, he’s shoving mouthful after mouthful in your direction
and you barely get to answer his questions because whenever you try to, he just scolds you for talking with your mouthful
“so what did you say you’re doing?” he leans over to you, eyes trained on your computer screen as he holds another mouthful in front of you
you take it and begin to chew
“well, you s-”
“finish your food before you talk,” he scolds, “don’t be gross!”
you just roll your eyes and do as he says
you know there’s no point in arguing
joshua hong
joshua hong can and will make you go outside with him
most of the time he claims it’s because he’s in need of a photographer, but you begin to notice a pattern
oh, you haven’t been out in a few days? you’re practically counting down the seconds until josh is walking through your door with your shoes, ready to go
and don’t worry if you refuse - joshua has his methods
“i’ll tell seungcheol,” he says as he walks into your room, swinging your trainers from his hands.
“oh yeah? what will you tell him?” you pay him no mind, knowing seungcheol won’t care if you haven’t left the house in a few days…
“i’ll tell him all about how you’ve locked yourself in your room and you’re not sleeping or eating enough,” he grins at you, happy with the lies he’s spouting.
you gasp and stand up in shock
“that’s not fair!” you grumble, “you can’t just lie to him!”
joshua laughs and passes you your shoes.
“i can and i will,” he gives you an innocent smile, “now come on, my little photographer! you have a job to do.”
wen junhui
doesn’t necessarily notice you’ve been living off of energy drinks and snack food until hoshi mentions it one day in practice
and sure enough when he looks over he notices you with a monster can in hand and a bag of chips resting between your thighs
and actually, now that he thinks about it, you woke up too late to eat breakfast so this is your first meal of the day
he excuses himself from his conversation to walk over to you and crouch next to you
“is that all you’re eating?” he pulls you out of your daydream and you look at him in confusion, “i mean, you didn’t have breakfast, which you should’ve because cheol told us to eat a lot since we’d be too busy for lunch.”
you frown and look at the bag of chips, which is almost gone, and think about how you should’ve rationed them more
“i take that as a yes,” he frowns, “and don’t get me started on the monster! if minghao sees you drinking that he’ll have an aneurysm. doesn’t he always warn you about keeping yourself healthy?”
you can’t help but roll your eyes and put your drink down on the floor
“i just need the energy,” you complain, “my body feels tired.”
“yeah, because you didn’t eat this morning,” he argues and stands up, holding his hand out to pull you up too, “now, let’s go and beg cheol for a small lunch break, okay?”
kwon soonyoung
he notices the way you trip over during practice and have to stumble through the rest of the dance with a limp
immediately pauses the music once the routine finished and calls you out on it
“take a seat for a while,” he orders, “you cant dance on an injured ankle, and it’ll make it worse if you try to.”
but you insist that you’re fine because you don’t want to slow down practice or make it difficult for the others
there’s a staring match between you and hoshi for a while, but he will not give in
if there’s two things he cares about to the end of the earth, it’s dance and his members and you’re just unlucky that this involves both of them
“go and sit down before i drag you to the bench myself,” god, you hate how scary he gets when he’s teaching choreography, “and don’t test me because i will do it.”
you know he will, so you just bow your head and hobble to the side of the room where the bench is waiting for you
“good,” he mumbles, going back to the stereo that’s waiting for him to press play, “i’ll get someone to grab an ice pack for you, okay?”
jeon wonwoo
he likes to spend quiet time with you which means more often than not, he’s around to take care of you
like he’ll literally be sat playing games on his pc, checking on you out of the corner of his eye every few minutes
if he sees your eyes drooping for even a second, he pauses his game and gives you a soft look
“go to sleep, kiddo,” he instructs softly, smiling a little when you jolt yourself awake, “i can see you dropping to sleep over there. don’t fight it, you probably need it.”
you grimace, taking a deep breath before you sit up properly and rub your eyes
“i’m fine, woo,” you grumble, widening your eyes slightly to try and make yourself feel more awake
he just laughs to himself, shaking his head as if he didn’t believe you
“go to bed, or i’ll take you myself,” you roll your eyes at him, but open your arms wide
“carry me?” you beg as if you’re a kid rather than someone just a few years younger than him
to which he rolls his eyes jokingly and stands up from his desk
“you’re so lucky i love you,” he chuckles
“you love me?” you tease
“yes, even though you’re annoying…”
lee jihoon
he loves you, he really does, but sometimes he’s a little too busy to pay too much attention to the small things
besides, he trusts him members to take care of their maknae well
except the two of you are in the studio, just messing around really
it was your suggestion because you wanted to spend time with him, and he had nothing too important to do so obviously he said yes
you’re spitting absolute bars into the microphone whilst he struggles to hold in his laughter, but half way through he can’t help but notice a strange grumbling behind your voice
he pauses the track he quickly produced just moments prior to you stepping in the booth and your voice peters away
“have you eaten today?” he furrows his brows as he hears it again, “and don’t even think about lying to me, kid.”
you roll your eyes in annoyance
“i had breakfast…”
“it’s midnight,” he deadpans, “you haven’t eaten since breakfast?”
you shrug, not seeing the big issue
“wasn’t hungry, was i…”
he stands up from his desk and shuffled over to the booth’s door, pulling it open immediately
“don’t care, pipsqueak,” his voice is much clearer now he’s speaking directly to you, “let’s go eat. we can carry this on again later and then we won’t have your tummy grumbling in the background, yeah?”
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt scenarios#seventeen reactions#seventeen oneshots#svt reactions#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen addition#seventeen 14th member#svt addition#svt 14th member
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Chapter 6
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
“Oh would you look who decided to acknowledge I exist?”
Steve didn’t hold back his eye roll at Robin’s words since she couldn’t see him. He’d decided to call her on the walk to his car after work, just to update her on things and make sure she was okay if he wasn’t home right after work.
“We just saw each other yesterday.”
“More than 24 hours ago, Steve.”
“We are two separate humans, Robin.”
“But only one brain. Look at you separating a whole brain. This is why I couldn’t concentrate today. You took it with you.”
“Are you done?” Steve sighed. “If you’re done, I need to talk to my best friend.”
“What’s wrong?” Robin’s tone went from slightly annoyed to concerned, which meant she’d never actually been that annoyed to begin with.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home late.”
Please don’t ask, please just accept it, don’t ask, don’t ask.
“Why?”
Fuck.
“Just stopping by Eddie’s for a bit.”
He was met with complete silence. He pulled his phone away to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped. It hadn’t.
“Robs?”
“Steve. I’m saying this because I love you.” Oh boy, here we go. “I’m worried.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just hanging out for a bit and then coming home.”
“You’ve practically lived with him since Saturday!”
“Okay, just because I slept over…”
“Twice! In a row!”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Uh huh. It doesn’t mean anything except you have barely been home and you literally went to subspace and dropped and probably subspace again with this stranger who did one nice tattoo and suddenly you’re ready to fly to Vegas and forget me!”
Ah. Steve let himself feel guilty for a moment before he remembered her insistence just a few weeks before that he needed to find other friends besides her, be social, maybe find a boyfriend.
Well, now he was doing some of that and she had a problem?
“I’m just enjoying my time with someone new. This is what you’ve wanted me to do forever, right?”
“Not like this!”
“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not following your rules for my friendships.”
“This isn’t a friendship, this is some weird sexual situation that’s gonna end up messy and you’re gonna end up hurt. It’ll be Nancy all over again.”
That hurt. Robin had been the one to get him through the Nancy heartbreak, always offering whatever support he needed while he worked through his disappointment that turned into an identity crisis that turned into a bit of a change of personality. She never judged him for his response to it. She was the perfect friend.
Having her throw it at him like this left a sour taste in his mouth and a hollowness in his chest.
She’d never spoken to him like this, not even when they got into stupid little arguments about cleaning the common areas of the apartment that sometimes escalated more than they should. This felt like she was jealous and taking it out on him.
Jealous of what though? She never seemed interested in having an actual relationship, and she was out all the time, leaving him to fend for himself in their apartment.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Steve.”
“Yeah, well. I appreciate the concern.”
Steve hung up. It wasn’t the mature thing to do, he knew that. But he was hurt, and he didn’t want to make things worse by letting the hurt out on her. He would talk to her when he got back home.
They were best friends, platonic soulmates. They’d get past this.
But for now, Steve turned his notifications off on his phone, got in his car, and drove to Eddie’s house.
– - – – – –
He made it inside with no issues, putting the key back under the mat once the front door was unlocked.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket once he was inside, ignoring the many texts from Robin to send a quick text to Eddie.
Made it home. Gonna make spaghetti. That okay?
He was looking around the kitchen to find all of the things he’d need when his phone started buzzing.
Eddie was calling.
“Hey, thought you’d be with the client.”
“I am, but it’s a friend. She’s taking a break. How was the rest of your day?”
Steve didn’t want him to know about his fight with Robin, not when most of it revolved around how quickly he was becoming attached to him.
“It was fine. Um, spaghetti’s okay? I just figured you probably had stuff for it.”
Eddie didn’t immediately respond, and Steve tried not to let himself worry.
“Spaghetti’s perfect. What happened, sunshine?”
How did he know? Steve was notorious for hiding his feelings from people, he’d been a champion for most of his life out of self-preservation.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” Steve was putting everything into being convincing.
Eddie was at work, he didn’t need to deal with Steve’s problems.
“Stevie, did something upset you? Do you need me to come home?”
God, of course he would offer to hurry back. He was so nice and Steve didn’t deserve it.
“Steve. I will leave right now and come back, just say the word.”
“No, no. I’m okay. Just had an argument with Robin. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry, sunshine. What will help?”
He didn’t know. He didn’t think he could really talk about it right now. He didn’t want Eddie to feel like he had to talk him through it when he was with a client.
He started to feel worse.
“I think maybe I should head back early tonight. Make sure I see her before she goes to bed.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be done here in an hour. You don’t have to cook anything, I’ll just grab us something on the way.”
“No. It’ll keep me busy. Can I cook please?”
He didn’t mean to sound so whiny, or practically beg, but it must have worked because Eddie gave in.
“If you really want to, you can cook. But I want you to go change into my clothes first, okay?”
Thank God Eddie couldn’t see the redness of his cheeks spreading down his neck.
“Okay. Can I wear your hoodie?”
He knew it would smell like him, and he knew it was soft, and he knew it would make him feel a million times better.
“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s on the bed. I’ll text you when I leave here, but call me if you need me before that.”
“I will.”
“Good boy. See you soon, sunshine.”
Steve felt warmer, lighter, more like he could handle the feelings Robin brought up. He knew if he could feel like this for a little bit, he could easily handle whatever conversation they’d have when he got home.
— — — — — —
Steve was so focused on the sauce he was making, he didn’t hear the front door open or footsteps come through the living room and into the kitchen or Eddie walking up behind him.
He felt strong arms wrap around his chest from behind, a soft kiss placed on his temple.
He leaned back against the warmth of Eddie, the calm he exuded taking over the whole kitchen.
“Welcome home, Eds.”
“Mm. Could get used to that,” Eddie said as he kissed Steve’s cheek, then his jaw, his neck.
Steve was doing his best to stay focused. He was cooking dinner, right.
He started to lean forward, but Eddie pulled him back again.
“Babe, I have to cook,” Steve giggled.
“Not done,” Eddie said against his neck, teeth barely scraping against Steve’s pulse point and causing him to let out a moan.
“I don’t.” Kiss. “Want this.” Kiss. “To.” Tongue.
Fuck.
“You keep cooking, sunshine. I’m just gonna enjoy my appetizer.”
“But I made garlic bread,” Steve pouted, pulling away as much as Eddie would let him. “For an appetizer.”
Eddie pulled away and looked at Steve, blinking at him as if he were confused.
Then he broke out in a huge smile.
“You’re trouble, sunshine.”
And to Steve, that sounded like he was saying something entirely different.
— — — — — — —
They didn’t talk about Robin.
Steve put their food on plates while Eddie grabbed some beers from the fridge.
It was very domestic. Comfortable. Nice.
Eddie insisted on sitting right next to Steve, one hand on his thigh for the entire dinner. His thumb was rubbing back and forth, his fingers sometimes drew designs on his knee, and he tapped rhythms into his skin until it felt like Steve was part of the song.
It was easy.
They talked about their days. Steve gave him the full play-by-play of his meeting with Will and Eddie kissed his cheek when he was done and told him how happy he was that Will liked it.
Eddie told him about his appointment, Chrissy, who he’d been good friends with since high school. He’d shown her that tattooing was a way to love her body when she’d been diagnosed with an eating disorder. He promised her he’d do any tattoo she wanted for free if she went through the intensive rehab and therapy process, and four months later, she came by his shop and became his favorite client on top of one of his best friends.
Steve leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he spoke, smiling to himself as he realized that Eddie was just a caring person.
He cared about everyone in his life in a way that Steve had not been familiar with before Robin.
He cared the way Steve cared, and he made Steve want to show it more.
He made Steve want to be bright in a way he’d never wanted to be before.
Eddie made him feel like he could shine.
He felt the impending rain cloud of leaving his side, though. Facing Robin would be a storm he didn’t want to weather tonight, feeling a bit overwhelmed already from his day of emotions.
It had started so good. It felt good right now.
“You got quiet on me, sunshine. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”
A lot. So much. He didn’t know how to answer without putting everything on the table, and he knew he couldn’t do that right now. He didn’t want to cry either and that was getting more likely the more tired he got.
“Just thinking.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“Anywhere you want is fine with me, sweetheart.”
Steve could tell him a little. Maybe talk about how much he wanted to stay by Eddie’s side. Or how he didn’t know how he was already so attached, but the thought of not having Eddie around was already devastating.
How much he could love him if he was given the chance.
“I’m scared that Robin’s right.”
Well, that’ll spark a conversation he didn’t want to have.
Nice job, idiot. You’re gonna end up spilling your secrets.
“Right about what?”
Eddie’s arm was now wrapped around Steve’s shoulder, hand resting against his arm where his fingers were tracing designs that Steve would tattoo on his skin.
“She said this is gonna end bad. I’ll get hurt. She didn’t want me to come tonight.”
Yeah, that’s not giving too much away.
Eddie’s fingers froze against his arm.
“She thinks I’d hurt you?”
“I guess.”
And a part of Steve believed it too. That was part of why he felt so shitty. Eddie already held the power to hurt him and he didn’t even realize it.
“Stevie, look at me for a minute.”
Steve pulled away, letting Eddie’s arm fall, but quickly finding his hand to lace their fingers together for extra comfort.
“I know this is gonna sound crazy, and it’s okay if you don’t wanna stick around after, but,” Eddie’s eyes were shining. Was he going to cry? “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. I’ve never wanted to spend every moment with someone before you. I missed you so much today, it was like I was being torn in half. I know it’s crazy. I know. But you’re important to me. I don’t know what will happen, I don’t know what you want, I just know that I wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you.”
Steve could feel his lip quivering. He knew he had tears in his eyes.
He was in deep and the only way out was through.
“I don’t know how to explain how much being around you has changed me. Just in the last two days I’ve felt like someone I didn’t even know I could be. Robin’s worried because,” Steve took a deep, steadying breath. He had to be honest. Eddie deserved it. “I jump into things quickly. I’ve always been like that. I commit hard and fast and I end up hurt every time. She was around for the worst one with my ex-girlfriend. She’s worried this will be like that and thinks you’re just using me for the sexual aspect of it. Well, she thinks we’re using each other, I think. And maybe if you were different, I would be. I’m not always a great guy. But it’s just that you’re you. You’re the kind of person who will always get the best me because you deserve someone who makes you feel the way you make other people feel.”
The words just didn’t stop coming.
Steve would’ve been more nervous about it if he wasn’t watching the fondness seep out of Eddie’s pores.
His every movement revolved around Steve’s own, his touches gentle and electric.
His hand was cupping the side of Steve’s neck, his eyes staring into Steve’s soul, even though he’d just laid it out on the table in front of them.
“You deserve to be the best you because it makes you feel good. But if I can help you find that, then I’m all yours, sunshine. As long as you want me.”
Steve leaned forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.
He closed his eyes.
His phone started ringing.
He planned to ignore it. He knew it was Robin and he wasn’t quite ready to face her yet.
But he knew if he didn’t answer, she’d worry. Maybe dramatically call 911 to do a wellness check.
He didn’t want to put Eddie through all that.
He grabbed his phone and answered, letting his head rest against Eddie’s chest.
“Yeah?”
“Steve. Listen. I’m sorry about earlier, okay? I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried about you. I want you to have someone who makes you happy, but I want you to be safe and-“
“Robs, I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”
Eddie’s hands were moving up and down his back slowly, adding pressure to his shoulders where he was most tense.
“Are you gonna be home soon?”
Steve resisted saying that he was home.
He realized he’d said it twice to Eddie; This felt like home. He’d never really had somewhere that felt like home. Even with Robin, he knew they were roommates because neither of them could afford rent on their own.
But here, he felt like he could safely recharge, relax, be himself, float away and find his way back. And he could do it all with Eddie.
“Yeah. I’ll head out soon.”
Robin was silent as Eddie started playing with the hem of Steve’s shirt.
“You could just stay. If you wanted. I mean I have your location and you’ll text me in the morning so I know you’re alive.”
Steve considered that this might be a test, that Robin was seeing if he’d give in easily and not explain anything else.
But Robin isn’t the type of friend to test him like that. She was never anything but honest and straightforward, never would expect him to make a choice like that to win her love. That’s just not who she was.
“I could stay tonight.”
Steve looked up at Eddie, who was smiling and nodding down at him, hands never stopping their comforting movements on his back.
“I’m gonna stay tonight.” Steve smiled into the phone as if Robin was able to see. “But tomorrow, I’m coming home after work and we’re having a long talk. We’re gonna order pizza and we’re gonna drink enough cheap wine to have the worst hangover ever on Wednesday morning. Okay?”
Robin let out a quiet chuckle. Good. Laughter is good.
“Okay, dingus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You got it, Robs.”
When Steve hung up the phone, Eddie pulled him tight against his chest, letting Steve find his place with his nose against his collarbone.
He breathed in his scent, smiling to himself at how quickly he relaxed into it.
“Sounds like things went well.”
“Mhm. Things’ll be good.”
Eddie kissed the top of his head.
“Let me clean up the dishes and then we can go to bed.”
“No, wanna stay here.”
“Here, in this chair?” Eddie snorted. “I don’t think either of us actually want that, sunshine.”
“Don’t wanna move.”
“How about I carry you?”
“Yes, please.”
For some reason, Steve didn’t exactly expect him to actually lift him in his arms and carry him. But he did.
He had him in his arms like he was a new bride being carried over the threshold, and Steve was blushing from his head to his toes.
Steve looked up at his face, taking in the way Eddie had a near-constant smirk when he was doing things like this. Like he was having fun and liked doing it.
Eddie dropped him in bed, laughing at the ‘oof’ Steve let out from the impact of hitting the mattress and pillows.
He stared down at Steve with that soft look he gave him before. Like Steve was actually making his life brighter, like it was a beautiful thing to have and know Steve.
No one has ever looked at him like that.
“Stevie.”
“Hm?”
“I really want to kiss you.”
Steve gulped.
“I really want you to kiss me.”
Eddie didn’t question it or wait, and his wet lips were against his with a passion Steve had never experienced in his life.
He forgot about everything except the way Eddie’s lips fit perfectly against his, slowly opening his own up so he could lick into his mouth.
He ran his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip, smiling into the kiss when Steve let out a loud moan.
Eddie’s hand was in his hair, tugging on the ends just enough to keep Steve present as his other hand ghosted down his side and squeezed his hip.
Steve could stay just like this forever and it wouldn’t be long enough.
He’d never have enough of Eddie touching him, kissing him, caring for him.
He wanted it always.
He let out another moan when Eddie’s teeth bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth and lips like he was trying to eat him.
Steve would let him.
But just when he thought he was going to stay like this all night, Eddie pulled away, nipping at his bottom lip one more time before he separated from him completely and stood up.
“Gonna go clean up. Be a good boy for me and stay right here. No touching yourself.”
Steve hadn’t really thought about doing so until he watched Eddie walk away and glanced down to see that he was hard. Incredibly so.
Suddenly, his only focus was on getting relief from how hard he was. How had he gotten there from a kiss?
It was like every touch from Eddie was equal to 1000 touches from anyone else. If Eddie touched his cock, he was done for. He’d embarrass himself beyond belief.
Maybe if Steve didn’t think about it, it would go away and it’d be fine.
Maybe he could just give himself a little touch. Eddie wouldn’t know. It’s not like he was watching.
But Eddie said not to.
Steve had to listen to Eddie.
He could distantly hear Eddie washing dishes in the kitchen, dishes clanking around while the water ran from the faucet.
He could feel the heat of the sweatpants and hoodie he was wearing, causing him to break out in a sweat.
Eddie didn’t say he couldn’t take his clothes off. He just said he couldn’t touch himself.
So Steve removed the hoodie and sweatpants in record time, unable to focus on anything except the cool sheets under him and the hard length nearly poking out of his boxers.
He hoped Eddie would touch him when he got back. He couldn’t sleep like this.
Too on edge, too close to falling the wrong way off the cliff.
He didn’t even register when Eddie entered the room again, his thoughts stuck on how good it would feel to have Eddie’s hands on him again.
Then Eddie’s hands were on him again. They were cupping his cheeks and forcing him to make eye contact with him.
Eddie was shirtless already, straddling his lap.
Steve didn’t care how he got there, just that he was.
He couldn’t help the whine he let out when Eddie’s cock brushed against his.
Oh, he wasn’t wearing pants either.
Steve hoped this was going where he wanted it to.
“You look so beautiful like this, sweet thing. Like I could eat you right up,” Eddie said before leaning in to leave a trail of kisses down his neck.
He paused right where Steve knew his freckles were and let out a small laugh against his skin.
“These are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”
Steve whined. He needed Eddie to kiss them, kiss him, kiss anywhere. He needed his lips on him every second of every day.
As if he could read his mind, Eddie gently kissed his freckles. Steve could feel his smile against his skin.
“Please kiss me,” he let out, needy whimper following his words.
“Am kissing you, sweet thing.”
And he was. Technically. But Steve needed to taste him again, needed their mouths connected so he could feel his breath in his own lungs, taking and giving oxygen Steve so desperately wanted to give and receive.
“Need you, please,” Steve added, as if that would make Eddie do anything else. “Please, please.”
Begging was not what he thought would happen tonight, but his mouth no longer had a filter as he felt Eddie’s hips roll against him.
The friction was almost too much.
Steve was going to cum. Right there in his boxers after barely making out and like, two barely there touches against his cock.
“Love hearing you beg,” Eddie said as he trailed his lips and tongue and teeth down Steve’s chest. He licked at one of his nipples, blowing cold air on it after. Steve shivered, but not from the cold.
“Feels so good,” Steve managed to get out.
He could tell he was becoming more incoherent, his moans getting louder despite Eddie hardly doing anything at all to him. He’d be embarrassed if he didn’t know how hard Eddie was above him.
Suddenly, Eddie’s lips were back on his own. He sighed into it, relief at being given what he wanted letting him relax further into the bed.
The relief only lasted for a moment, though.
Eddie was pulling away and laying down next to Steve.
No.
“No,” Steve said, turning his head to pout at him. “More.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows at him.
“That doesn’t sound very polite, Stevie. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask nicely,” Eddie sounded bored. Was he bored?
No, he wouldn’t have gone from interest to bored that quickly. Would he?
“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You listening?”
“Mhm.”
“Good boy. You’re gonna get on my lap and you’re gonna get yourself off. No hands.” Steve was already moving, but Eddie put his hand on his chest to hold him still. “No boxers. You use your safe word if it gets too much.”
Steve didn’t know how this could be too much, but he was too far gone to do anything but agree.
“Okay.”
Eddie removed his hand and didn’t stop Steve this time when he got up and straddled Eddie’s thighs, the reverse position they’d been in before giving Steve a head rush. He helped push Steve’s boxers off, holding him steady when his legs nearly gave out when he kicked them off.
Eddie didn’t touch him at first, letting Steve find the position that worked best for him and watching as he tried to find the perfect level of contact.
He couldn’t though.
“Oh, sweet thing, you can’t get it right can you?”
Steve whined and shook his head, feeling tears of frustration building behind his eyes.
“You want me to help you?”
“Please, yes, help,” Steve got out between pants.
Eddie’s hands were on his hips, warmth spreading from the place they touched Steve’s skin throughout his body. His grip was strong, nearly leaving fingerprint bruises in his skin. Steve wished he would.
“More.”
“More what?”
“Fingers. Harder.”
Finding the right words was hard. Steve was doing all he could to keep his eyes locked on Eddie’s face, vision going a bit blurry from the cloudiness in his head.
Eddie understood though.
His fingers gripped harder, and Steve knew he’d be done for soon regardless of the friction on his cock.
“You want help getting started, sweet thing?”
“Mhm. Mmm,” Steve was incoherent. He knew it, but he couldn’t do anything but let Eddie have full control.
Eddie used his strong grip to move Steve’s hips back and forth a few times, the feeling of Steve’s bare cock against Eddie’s clothed one nearly enough to send him over the edge right away.
He was moaning uncontrollably.
“I’m not doing it all for you,” Eddie said, letting go of Steve’s hips and watching as Steve stuttered in his movements. “C’mon. You were so desperate for it before.”
Steve didn’t think about how he was naked and Eddie wasn’t, how his dripping cock was getting Eddie’s boxers messy, how Eddie was smirking at him as he struggled to keep up the pace Eddie had started.
He only thought about how he had to get relief and make Eddie proud of him for doing what he asked.
Steve’s hips moved back and forth, rolling down every time he pushed forward so he could feel Eddie’s length against his own.
It was too much and not enough and Steve didn’t know how long he could keep this up.
Eddie was watching him, talking him through it, but not touching him.
“That’s it, sweet thing. Doing so good for me,” Eddie let out a moan when he started moving faster. “That’s it, sweetheart. Making me feel so fucking good.”
Steve wasn’t even registering his own pleasure anymore, only able to hear the way Eddie’s words were getting breathier, moans louder.
“Gonna cum for me? Want you to make me messy, sunshine. C’mon,” Eddie started tilting his hips up to meet Steve every time he rolled his hips down.
It was so much.
There was nothing but Eddie. His voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket as Steve felt the pull in his stomach letting him know he was close.
“Mm, Eddie, Eddie-“ Steve was babbling and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t care. He didn’t think Eddie did either. “Gonna. Gonna be good.”
Eddie let out a loud moan and sat up enough to kiss Steve’s lips.
Steve was done for.
He came so hard he almost couldn’t even feel it, the pleasure making his vision go black and his body go numb.
He could feel Eddie rut against him a few more times before he let out a groan.
He couldn’t open his eyes to see, but he knew Eddie must’ve finished too.
“So good, sunshine. Did so good for me, can’t believe I’m so lucky,” Eddie was whispering into his ear, soft breaths making Steve shiver against him.
Steve felt Eddie moving him so he was laying down in bed.
Then cold air shocked him into opening his eyes and letting out a pained whimper.
“Shhh, sweet thing. Just grabbing a washcloth. Gotta clean you up and take care of you, yeah? You did so good for me,” Eddie said as he pecked a kiss to his forehead.
Steve wasn’t quite floating now, but he recognized that he’d been on the cusp of it before Eddie walked away. He still wasn’t aware of most of what was going on, just that he’d never felt so good in his life and he hadn’t even had hands on him.
Whatever Eddie had done to take Steve apart was incredible.
When Eddie came back with the washcloth and gently wiped his stomach and chest, Steve tried to speak.
“Love that,” was all he was capable of, but it was a start. Eddie would get the gist of it.
“I’m glad. Loved doing that with you,” Eddie said softly as he got into bed next to Steve. He immediately pulled Steve on top of him, and Steve nearly gasped at Eddie being naked under him. “Feeling okay?”
Steve nodded against his chest.
He’d never felt better.
As he drifted to sleep to Eddie’s soft whispers, Steve thought about how he could possibly love someone so much so quickly.
Chapter 7
TAG LIST: @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine @bejeweledbaby @bisexualdisastersworld @eddiemunsonswife @sadcanadianwinter @messrs-weasley @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch @maya-custodios-dionach @sleepyboosstuff @novelnovella @jestyzesty @f1ct1onwh0re @croatoan-like-its-hot @adaydreamaway08 @shrimply-a-menace @crazyhatlady86 @izzy2210 @phirex22 @crypticcorvidinacottage @yourebuckingkiddingme @sydthekid2004 @lovelylilbadone @abydell921 @wildflower-faun @lydi-cyan
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#grumpy sunshine trope#tattoo artist eddie munson#guidance counselor steve harrington#dom eddie munson#sub steve harrington#ao3fic#myfic#chapter 6
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Valentine’s Day Ficlet - Accidental Valentine’s Date
Anonymous asked: hm maybe have them end up on a date on valentine’s day by pure accident?
-----
Charles finally picks up the phone after the third emergency of the day, when Hank tells him about the ‘minor’ explosion on the third floor. Though he’s the CEO of Xavier Pharmaceuticals he’s still mostly a scientist at heart, and is very invested in the research that he helped to pioneer. He’s going to be very cross when he finds the culprit responsible for blowing up his lab, a state of the art facility he built to his custom specifications.
The phone connects after the first ring. “This is Lehnsherr.”
“Erik, hi, it’s Charles, Charles Xavier—”
“Charles,” Erik says, cutting him short. He can’t tell by the tone of voice if the man is wryly amused or genuinely annoyed by his call. “You’re not calling to reschedule again, are you? This is the second time in less than a week. I’m beginning to think you don’t actually want to go on this date.”
He bites his lip to stop from blurting out something rude, like how he doesn’t really have time to date, and that he only agreed to being set up on a blind date so Emma and his sister would stop hassling him about his sad personal life. And based on the short conversations they’ve had so far, he’s not sure he and Erik really have that much in common, besides how dedicated they are to their respective careers. Maybe he should just politely beg off so he can go back to putting out the fourteen fires he’s got going at once—
“Look,” Erik says, and this time he definitely sounds put out, which, considering he’s been mostly curt and dismissive every time they’ve chatted is pretty galling. “If you don’t want to go, just say so and stop wasting my time. You’re not going to hurt my feelings.”
Oh, the absolute nerve of this man – “Sounds like you’re the one looking for an out, Mr. Lehnsherr. I mean, my lab exploded today which is why I’m calling but if you think that’s not a good enough reason to reschedule than by all means, we can cancel outright.”
There’s a beat of silence before Erik asks, “An explosion? Was anyone hurt? Are you alright?”
“No, no one was hurt thankfully and I’m fine, thank you for asking.” He exhales loudly and adds, “Look, I really am sorry for cancelling tonight. Let me make it up to you. Tomorrow night, 7pm at Armando’s Bistro. The food is excellent there.”
“Tomorrow? Are you sure you can get us a table on such short notice?”
Charles bristles, but pushes down his annoyance at Erik’s incredulous tone. “Yes, yes I know the chef; he’s a good friend of mine. He’ll get us a good table.”
“Alright…tomorrow it is then. 7pm at Armando’s; I’ll meet you there.”
“See you tomorrow night.”
He hangs up and sighs, then immediately calls his assistant, Alex.
“I need you to get me a table for two at Armando’s tomorrow night at 7.”
“Tomorrow? You have a date on V—?”
“Yes, tomorrow, and please let Darwin know I want the works.” Charles is a catch, dammit, and he is determined to impress his sullen and (probably) judgemental date even if nothing comes of it but a good meal.
“Okay, boss. You got it.”
“Thank you,” he says before hanging up and promptly forgetting about it for the next 24 hours.
----
Charles gets to the restaurant five minutes early, only to be told that his date has already arrived. The hostess Angel smirks at him as she leads him to their table, which is at the back of the restaurant with a stunning view of the river. He notices a lot of besotted couples holding hands and smiling dopily at each other – even more than usual – and wonders if Darwin is offering some kind of Prix Fixe special for two on the menu.
He's momentarily stunned when he finds the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his life, seated at their table.
“Erik?”
“Hello, Charles,” the man says, and oh, now that he’s close he can read intense interest radiating from his thoughts, impossible to glean during any of their previous conversations over the phone. Or perhaps the interest exists only now that he’s laid eyes on Charles for the first time, a little ruffled and still in the blue suit he wore at the office. “Nice to finally meet you,” he adds with a sly smirk, sharp eyes taking Charles in from his head to his toes.
“Likewise,” he answers, and when they reach to shake hands the touch electrifies him to the core. Charles finds himself completely entranced by the brilliant mind inside the lithe body, his focus so fixed on Erik that he barely hears what the waiter says, nor does he wonder why they’re given no menus to peruse.
“We didn’t order this,” Charles says, when the waiter – Sean – arrives as they exchange pleasantries, delivering a bottle of Dom Perignon and two crystal flutes. He returns immediately afterwards with two lovely plates of appetizers; a dozen raw oysters with trimmings along with another dozen baked in butter, breadcrumbs and Grana Padano cheese. “Is this on tonight’s fixed menu?”
“Oh no, Mr. Xavier. This is a very special meal the chef designed just for you and your guest - a romantic and sensual journey for the senses! Happy Valentine’s Day to you both.”
He has no idea what expression he makes, but Erik starts chuckling, and reaches to pat his hand. “You had no idea today was Valentine’s Day, did you, Charles?”
Truthfully, he can’t remember the last time he looked at the date on the calendar, since he relies almost exclusively on Alex to get him to meetings at the right place and the right time. Of course, now the ambience and the clientele in the restaurant make perfect sense, though he’s a bit mortified that he’s essentially forced Erik to agree to a blind date on Valentine’s Day of all days.
Then, he remembers asking the restaurant for ‘the works’ and groans, realizing he all but demanded the outlandish meal Darwin has clearly planned for the evening.
“No, I’m so sorry! I know this is way too much for a first date—”
“So…now’s maybe not a good time to tell you that I’m Jewish and can’t eat shellfish?”
“Oh! Oh, no, Erik! Oh my god—”
Erik grins at him with all teeth, which Charles finds stupidly attractive even in the midst of his rising panic. “Charles, Charles! I’m just kidding! I don’t keep Kosher.”
“You—” He starts laughing, embarrassment and annoyance deflating at the way Erik is radiating warmth and genuine delight over Charles and his predicament. Maybe the date is still salvageable, he thinks, if they go somewhere with less pressure and expectation for full throttle romance with a capital ‘R’. “Ugh, this is a disaster. Do you want to get out of here? Maybe go grab a beer and wings?”
Instead of answering him, Erik merely waves to get their waiter’s attention.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Can you tell us what else we’ll be having for our ‘romantic and sensual journey for the senses’?”
Charles snorts, barely holding back his laughter as Erik gives him a conspiring wink. Entirely unruffled, and pointedly ignoring their snickering, Sean dutifully recites the rest of the menu.
“For the main course, a 40 ounce, Prime Angus Porterhouse steak for two, aged 45 days and served rare with foie gras sauce as well as ‘His and His’ lobsters. And for dessert, Swiss chocolate martinis alongside a Madagascar vanilla soufflé for sharing.”
Erik leans in and gives a considering hum. “I don’t know about you, Charles, but I think that sounds too good to pass up. Plus, you owe me a nice meal for rescheduling on me twice. Why don’t we stay, and see what the rest of the night brings?”
Then he feels the press of Erik’s thoughts directed right at him – a skill taught by Emma no doubt, considering their close friendship – the words accompanied by images of after dinner, with a confidence that Charles finds utterly charming, Do you think they’ll make us some chocolate dipped strawberries to go?
“Yes, that’s an excellent idea,” he says, letting Erik know he’s answering both questions with a cheeky smile. “Can I pour you some more champagne, Mr. Lehnsherr?”
#gerec writes#cherik#valentine's day fic#modern au#this is the last one#sorry for those I didn't get to!
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Fake Fake Dating
It's day 24 of @taznovembercelebration! I got the prompt "tradition" and also added "promise" as a bonus. This hinges on the deep lore I have for the annual Jenga tournament, it's a whole thing but you'll get the gist.
Read below or on Ao3 - find yesterday's here
-
“Explain it one more time.” Kravitz asks, because he’s still not entirely convinced that he’s understanding.
“Fake.” Taako looks at him expectantly.
“Yes, that’s not the bit I’m struggling with Taako. It’s more the second bit that’s tripping me up.”
“Fake dating? You cannot tell Taako you don’t know the concept, it’s a trope for a reason.”
“It’s not confusing me in isolation.”
“Then what’s the problem? You get the first bit, get the second big, it’s all gravy baby!” Taako smiles easily, like everything he’s saying makes perfect sense. Like he knows that Kravitz is going to cave in anyway.
He’s right, is the problem, but Kravitz can be stubborn too, he can last a bit longer before he gives Taako everything he wants.
“I’m confused about the whole thing all in one, the need for fake fake dating. It’s been what… like a few months now?” Kravitz knows that it has been precisely eight months and three days and hmmmm, six hours. Give him 10 minutes and he can probably crack the seconds too, but he’s still worried that Taako might bolt if he gives any indication that he cares that much. “So why don’t we just, you know, tell your friends we’re together?”
“Isn’t this more fun?”
“No.” Kravitz says without thinking, because if he’s fake-fake dating Taako he’s got to think of a whole character and rehearse, and that’s going to take up valuable Taako time. Taako time which could be better used. Much better used. Running lines was a poor use of both of their mouths.
“It’s like a fun sexy roleplaaayyyy.” Taako bounces his eyebrows alluringly.
“You know how badly that went last time.”
“Look, Taako royally boned that one, cha’boy should have known you were too much of a nerd to respond well to sexy professor telling you you failed a paper.”
“It’s just that I work really hard and I would never have left it to the last min…”
“I know, bones, I know. But this time I’ll be your sexy fake boyfriend - no academic assessment involved.”
“But you’re my sexy not-fake boyfriend right now.” Kravitz kisses Taako’s shoulder to illustrate that fact.
“Oh, boyfriends, are we?”
Shit. This wasn’t how Kravitz was going to ask that. “Er…” He freezes. Maybe if he just stays really still Taako will forget he’s there.
“Took you long enough. I was starting to think you didn’t want to be saddled with me.” Before Kravitz can say anything to try and show Taako precisely how ridiculous that statement is, Taako snuggles closer in and proclaims: “Taako Tacco: sexy boyfriend. It has a ring to it.”
Kravitz laughs and presses a kiss to Taako’s head. Thank the lady. He’s wanted to ask for months, eight of them (and 3 days and 6 hours…).
“So about the fake fake date?”
“Did you just agree to be my boyfriend so I’d agree to be your fake fake boyfriend?”
“Don’t make Taako get his journal. Cha’boy’s been moping, pining, longing.”
Kravitz shuts him up with a kiss, he knows from experience that Taako can soliloquise when left to his own devices.
“So.” Says Taako, into Kravitz’s mouth. “Fake boyfriends?”
Kravitz pulls back and sighs. “You’re the worst.”
“You signed up for this.”
“And I’d do it again. I’ll be your fake fake date on one condition.”
“Shoot.”
“Why don’t you want to tell them?”
“It’s none of their fucking business.” Taako says, too fast.
“Okay. Anything else?”
“Honestly, for realsies? I just think it’ll be really funny.”
–
“How did we meet?” Asks Kravitz, legs kicked up in Taako’s lap.
“You forgot?”
“No!” Kravitz is never going to forget. “I mean, how did fake us meet?”
“Same way?”
“He came to my job and tried to fight me and I thought he was stealing?”
“I maintain it was the quickest way to get you on top of me.” Taako grins without making eye contact, works his thumbs deeper into the knotty muscle in Kravitz’s calf.
“You…” Kravitz sighs. There was no point rehashing it. “Is that the story you want me to tell your sister and very closest friends?”
“Absolutely not, homie. Taako did all the legwork, he’s telling it.”
“We could pick literally anything else.” Kravitz thinks of their eyes meeting across a crowded room, a meant-to-be bump into each other at a party, a confused coffee order…
“Why would we?”
Kravitz leans back into the cushions and closes his eyes. “Good point. It was perfect.”
–
“Does Lup know?”
“Nope.” Taako doesn’t look up from the pot he’s stirring.
“Are you sure you don’t want to tell her?”
“Yep.” Taako pauses, keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the stove. “If she wanted to know about my life she shouldn’t have moved to the other side of the country.”
“Okay love, you don’t have to tell her.”
“Love?”
Kravitz freezes.
–
“Can I bring something?” Kravitz asks, raising his voice so Taako can hear him.
“What would you bring?” Taako opens one eye to look at Kravitz, slowly rotates on his pool float.
“I don’t know, I’ve never been to a jenga world championship before, and here’s your drink.” Kravitz holds out the most ridiculous glass he could find in the kitchen. He added a little umbrella and a squiggly straw as well as two kinds of fruit on the rim and a trifecta of cherries on the umbrella stick.
Taako laughs as he sees the proffered glass, throat tipped back, hair trailing in the water. Kravitz wants to reel him in, pull him from his unicorn shaped float and distract him for a few hours.
“Just bring your handsome self, my guy… and maybe some goggles?”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
–
“What should I wear?”
“Clothes are traditional, I believe.” Taako slides a hand up Kravitz’s chest. “Although Taako’s not opposed to you deciding to break tradition…”
“Taako! I’m not meeting your sister and your friends with my dick out.” Kravitz leans back against Taako’s chest, inviting his hands to glide lower.
“But you could meet me with your dick out right now.”
Kravitz snorts. “I think that’s your worst come on yet.”
“Did it work?”
Kravitz turns and kisses him.
–
Kravitz holds the tray of goodies Taako made and the drinks holder he brought - a mix of wine and fancy non-alcoholic options and tries to concentrate on not dropping them as Taako rings the bell. Taako, his fake boyfriend. His definitely not real boyfriend.
As soon as the door opens Taako is hoisted into Magnus’ arms, Kravitz knows him from the photographs. “Taako!”
“Nice to see you big guy. This is my boyfriend…”
“Kravitz!” Magnus puts Taako down and rushes to try and scoop Kravitz, settling for an awkward half hug when he sees how much Kravitz is carrying.
“How do you know Kravitz?” Taako asks.
“Well you’re always talking about him.” Magnus shrugs.
“And you have those pictures of him.” Adds Merle, appearing from behind Magnus’ legs.
“And he’s been in the background of about 50% of the times I’ve video called you in the last 6 months, Goofus.” Taako is running before Lup’s done speaking.
Maybe Kravitz won’t have to pretend he’s not not dating Taako tonight. Maybe he can just be Taako’s actual boyfriend.
-
I hope you enjoyed! Want to read some more? Find the next prompt here!
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i got tagged by @catboymisogynist and ty!!! it turns out i’m wearing my NO shirt on the right day-
1. How long have you been a New Order fan? i know it started after watching 24 hour party people in 2019 but i don’t think i really sat down and listened to an album until 2020
2. How many New Order concerts have you been to? sadly zero. maybe one day i will when i can get fix my fate
3. What was your favourite New Order gig? i absolutely love one of their very early tv performances in 1981 on Granada television in Manchester. i’ll add the link at the bottom cause it’s worth watching i promise
4. What is your fav New Order album? i always say PC&L and i still can’t refute it
5. Fav New Order song? judging by my most played tracks it’s Mr Disco but in my heart it’s Touched by the Hand of God
6. Favourite Member of New Order? giving a shoutout to Stephen for being there since the beginning and still remaining sane after all these years
7. Favourite Former Member of New Order? can i just say peter hook was kind okay during the 80s period so i guess i’ll say like 1983 hooky
8. How many NO albums do you own? currently i have 4(?) cds though ive had more in the past - a few were passed to other peeps
9. Do you own any Joy Division? still searching for a copy of Closer but ive got Unknown Pleasures and a Best Of cd
10. Least Favourite album? ngl, Waiting for the Sirens’ Call 🤷♀️
11. Do you have all the side project albums? definitely not because hooky’s band/thing from the 90s doesn’t appeal to me and Electronic + The Other Two stuff is so rare in the wild rip
12. Which is your favourite side project Electronic is my: babygirlmybelovedmybestfriendmyonetruelovethebestofbothworldsilovethemwithallmyheartandsoul
13. Favourite remix? The ‘90 Confusion mixes are honestly better than the ‘83 original to me
14. Favourite video? Touched by the Hand of God
15. Favourite cover? CHIRS LOWE DOES SUBCULTURE aka thank you Stop Modernists ur amazing
16. Should Hooky rejoin the band? fuck no
17. Do you like Barney’s dancing and fav dance moves? yes and whenever he spins in some way
18. How many times a day do you listen to NO? not as much as i used to but at least two separate times a day is set aside for NO listening
19. Is New Order your favourite band? unfortunately i suffer from a crippling addiction to the pet shop boys which hinders my full capacity to have them be my favourite and yes please pray for me
20. Should Steve audition for Dr. Who? id give him money to yes
21. Favourite Barney collaboration? i always think about him producing some things for the happy mondays which means he was practically a babysitter for strung out late 20yr olds which is something we should never forget
i just want to tag @blue-dreamers-eyes because i know you’ll have very interesting thoughts on this and you're a more dedicated fan than me by this point
lastly the Granada tv performance: https://youtu.be/48E74Lun7kA?si=G18zQK330C2jP5VA
youtube
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[CN] 5th Anniversary - Lucien (Roast!)
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️
This post contains a detailed spoiler for a story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
✧5th Anniversary Event | Prologue | Creative Workshop | King Fuk Street | Wonderland | Star Plaza | Final Day- Heart Rain Lake | Roast! (You’re here!) | Truth and Dare Pinball Machine | Random Event tidbits
T/N: 吐槽大会, or can be translated as Roast! is a comedy talk-show in China that’s inspired by Comedy Central Roast. Basically, it’s a show where the people invited take turns in roasting each other based on the topic provided.
In the game itself, you can choose which roast you can give to him (and you get a chance to choose another option lol) and whether to oppose or agree with his roast.
Translation under the cut!
Microphone: Welcome to Roast! Everyone is welcome to participate~
[Topic 1- Work]
Microphone: The topic of today's roast is…
Microphone: His/Her Work~
MC: I'll go first~
MC: In my heart, he is...
[Option A: Dedicated Scientist]
MC: According to "I don’t actually know what I'm talking about" data, 99 out of every 100 scientists love to work non-stop without sleep or food.
(T/N: 废寝忘食 is an idiom meaning to skip one's sleep and meals/ to be completely wrapped up in one's work)
MC: However, Professor Lucien relied on his extremely high physical fitness to work without eating and sleeping at all!
MC: Won't this unavoidably attract resentment from other scientists?
MC: So for the sake of the future of the scientific community, I advise him to keep a low profile in the future, eat and sleep on time, to give his colleagues some psychological balance~
Lucien: This lady appears to have a point that I didn’t consider too well before.
Lucien: But rather than maintaining the psychological balance between colleagues for the future of the scientific community-
Lucien: What I care more about is your opinion.
Lucien: I'll try to change these bad habits in the future, so that you don't have a chance to criticize me about them anymore.
Lucien: Anything else?
[Option B: “Picky” Consultant]
MC: My program consultant is very serious about the program content.
MC: And even for a small idea, he will ask me to go to the library to look up information, discuss it face-to-face in a coffee shop, or meet in the park to collect local cultural material.
MC: After a long time, I finally realized that-
MC: Did he use the program as a way of creating opportunities to meet each other?
Lucien: This student's realization seems to take longer than I thought.
Lucien: In fact, my role as your "program consultant" is not the only one filled with deliberate and subtle motives.
Lucien: In one way or another, I have hidden some selfishness in every other aspect of my life.
Lucien: But judging by how long it takes for you to realize it, I guess it will take another long time for you to discover "them".
Lucien: Anything else?
MC: My rant is over.
Lucien: Although the Great Producer often says that I’m very committed to my work, it seems that… you are no different from me.
Lucien: And sometimes when we travel overseas, you have to take your laptop with you so that you can "be on call" 24 hours a day.
Lucien: This makes you seem a little "busier" than me.
[Option A: Agree With Him]
MC: ヾ(=^▽^=)ﾉ
Lucien: Since the Great Producer has admitted it, let's supervise each other in the future.
Lucien: If someone 'violated' first, you have to punish the other person to do one thing for you, okay?
Lucien: Don't worry… It’s not a trap. it's more like a mutual motivation.
[Option B: Oppose him]
MC: (⁰ Д ⁰ *)ﾉ
Lucien: Hmm... You don't think so? Do you still think that I'm more likely to forget to eat and sleep?
Lucien: To an extent, it seems to be the case.
Lucien: But by nature, it seems to be the same.
Lucien: No matter the extent, it still has an impact on our health, doesn't it?
Lucien: So, why don't we encourage each other to free up more space for the two of us?
MC: Anything else?
Lucien: Some time ago, I accidentally saw your plans for next year's vacation.
Lucien: It seems like there is not enough time left for me?
Lucien: As your program consultant, should I increase my efficiency to shorten the duration of the program?
[Option A: Agree with him]
MC: ヾ(=^▽^=)ﾉ
Lucien: Since Miss Producer also wants to have a lot of vacation days...
Lucien: Then I will not fail to meet this high expectation, and strive to give you more time to rest.
[Option B: Oppose him]
MC: (⁰ Д ⁰ *)ﾉ
Lucien: Oh? Did I make a mistake...
Lucien: You said 80% of your time is reserved for me?
Lucien: But if you only schedule five days of annual leave a year, we only have four days.
Lucien: For such a greedy me, it seems far from enough.
MC: Anything else?
Lucien: My rant is over.
[Topic 2: His/Her Life]
Microphone: The topic of today's roast is…
Microphone: His/her life~
MC: In my heart, he is...
[Option A: Movie buff]
MC: A scientist who likes to watch movies-
MC: No matter how busy he is at work, he will spare some time as much as possible to watch movies.
MC: And after watching it, he will also carefully search the relevant information, from the shot analysis to the director's creative process.
MC: I seem to be less professional than him even though I’m the professional TV and film producer….
Lucien: Watching movies is a good hobby for me, but I started to develop the habit of looking up related information after I became your program consultant.
Lucien: After all, in addition to providing professional knowledge and insight, I also need to know something about the journey behind the scenes of the creators,
Lucien: I need to understand all aspects of the great producer's life so that I can help in the best way I can.
Lucien: Anything else?
[Option B: Tea Connoisseur]
MC: He likes tea very much, to what extent?
MC: To the extent that I can smell a faint scent of tea when I pass by him,
MC: And when I open the storage cabinet, I will find hundreds of tea bags, and there is an increasing number of them…
MC: I didn't know that Professor Lucien also had a "childlike" hobby of collecting things he likes.
Lucien: Rather than collecting, it is more that I'm going to let it settle over time to have a better and richer tea flavor.
Lucien: And I've always had a small plan in mind- that every few years, you could taste the "time" with me.
Lucien: Anything else?
MC: My rant is over.
Lucien: My little girl often has many whimsical ideas, for example, she likes to decorate our home according to the four seasons,
Lucien: Or create some unexpected surprises from time to time, so there is nothing worth "rant" in life.
Lucien: I’m very satisfied and I like it very much.
[Option A: Agree With Him]
MC: ヾ(=^▽^=)ﾉ
Lucien: Hmm. Seems like I've motivated you even more with this speech.
Lucien: Then… Just continue to let me be lucky enough to sit back and enjoy them in the future.
[Option B: Oppose him]
MC: (⁰ Д ⁰ *)ﾉ
Lucien: Are you saying that I bring you more surprises?
Lucien: At this point, none of us should be modest with each other.
Lucien: Instead, we should be happy that we can bring joy, surprise, and happiness to each other.
MC: Anything else?
Lucien: But also because I’m greedy enough to have more.
Lucien: Every minute and every second in the future, I will continue to welcome every surprise you bring to me with anticipation.
[Option A: Agree with him]
MC: ヾ(=^▽^=)ﾉ
Lucien: But in such a beautiful thing, you can't be the only person who gives.
Lucien: So, although I don't have the same unimaginable creativity as you.
Lucien: I still want to bring you what I consider to be “surprises”.
[Option B: Oppose him]
MC: (⁰ Д ⁰ *)ﾉ
Lucien: Oh? What's with the sudden reluctance…?
Lucien: It seems that you also like to secretly “play bad”.
Lucien: So what do I have to do to make your "surprise package" endlessly renewed?
MC: Anything else?
Lucien: My rant is over.
[Topic 3: About him/her]
Microphone: The topic of today's roast is…
Microphone: About him/her
MC: I’ll go first~
MC: In my heart, he is...
[Option A: Genius]
MC: I have to say that he is a "genius" in every sense of the word, and I hardly ever see anything he is not good at!
MC: Wait, why don't I start doing a study on Professor Lucien?
MC: For example—[In such a perfect genius, how many things is he not good at?]?
Lucien: I think I have a lot of things I'm not good at.
Lucien: For example, I always forget to take good care of myself and then I don't know what to do when you are "angry".
Lucien: Or, each time a new emotion arises because of you, there is some self-exploration that I’m not good with.
Lucien: But I seem to be making progress, like now - the latter has gradually become something I'm good at.
Lucien: Anything else?
[Option B: A sly fox]
MC: On the surface, he is the gentle and elegant Professor Lucien, but in private he is a sly ‘fox’!
MC: Not only does he often ‘trap’ me, but he also likes to secretly tease me.
MC: Even though I was alert and vigilant, I still couldn't prevent his schemes!
Lucien: Then perhaps this is the "animal" natural behavior in the face of someone he likes.
Lucien: Uncontrollably approaching, trying to attract the other person's attention.
Lucien: All this just because he wants to be closer to the other person.
Lucien: Anything else?
MC: My rant is over.
Lucien: You are the bravest girl I have ever met, and the one who always brings hope.
Lucien: So more than wanting to roast or ridicule you... I just want to say that I'm glad to have met you like this.
[Option A: Agree With Him]
MC: (shyly) ヾ(=^▽^=)ﾉ
Lucien: I really like your smile at this moment. It has been forever framed in my heart.
[Oppose him]
MC: (⁰ Д ⁰ *)ﾉ
Lucien: Are you saying that I made you braver?
Lucien: But I don’t think that’s very accurate. Rather, I would say that-
Lucien: It is love that has made us what we are now.
MC: Anything else?
Lucien: So, please stay by my side more often.
Lucien: Although it sounds a bit selfish, one can't help but instinctively move closer to warmth.
Lucien: And I’m no exception.
[Option A: Agree With Him]
MC: ヾ(=^▽^=)ﾉ
Lucien: Now that you've agreed to it, why don't you start "fulfilling" it in every aspect of our lives?
Lucien: For example - with every scenery we see, every delicious food we eat, and every warmth as we hug each other when we get home.
[Oppose him]
MC: (⁰ Д ⁰ *)ﾉ
Lucien: If you feel that staying in the same place is too stagnant, how about following in each other's footsteps and moving forward?
Lucien: Let every unknown part of the future leave traces that belong to us.
#roast never sounds this wholesome#njjdf such a cute mini story thoo#mlqc lucien#mlqc cn#mr love queen's choice#mr. love queen's choice#mlqc spoiler#mlqc translations#mlqc
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Contract Negotiation
prev chapter / next chapter / series starts here / read on Ao3
its so cool to forget abt a fic you wrote and come back to it like someone wrote this just for me!! this chapter was already half finished in my drafts anyway. no promises for the future
also if you guess the 2020 horror movie they were watching u win a prize! hint: two people get vored in it
"The good news is he won't need hospitalization, so long as he gets enough rest."
Alexander still looked like death the next morning, pockmarked flesh having scabbed into painful topography. His hands were too sore to do much, but he could move them just fine, and there weren't any signs of infection, according to Winnie.
Maxim had woken up early after a short, fitful sleep, and found his phone full of missed calls and unanswered texts from Winnie. She'd picked up on the first ring, battering Maxim with questions. Once he'd convinced her that Alexander was safe and Roost was gone, she'd hung up and appeared on his doorstep with troubling punctuality.
Maxim knew he was in for a hell of a lecture, but that was a small price to pay for Winnie's help. She was by no means a medical expert, but this was definitely in her wheelhouse. It wasn't the first time a pred had eaten a prey they shouldn't have, and someone had to do damage control when extermination wasn't an option.
After that impromptu check-up, the two of them left Alexander to sleep. Maxim poured out some coffee and sat across from Winnie at the table. She sniffed at the offered cup, grimaced, and pushed it away.
"Now, you're probably wondering when it will be safe to consume him again."
Maxim looked away. "I wasn't wondering that." Winnie narrowed her eyes at him. "I mean it, I...I only care that he's safe and that he recovers."
"...So you can consume him again."
It was easy for Maxim to deny it now, not 24 hours after his last meal, but he knew his resolve would only hold for so long. Especially if Alexander was going to be staying with him while he rested up. He couldn't confidently deny Winnie's claim.
She nodded at his non-response. "I'd say two weeks at least, assuming you use antacids and he has something to protect his hands."
"I can do that." Maxim looked to Winnie for confirmation. "I can do that, right?"
Winnie laughed to herself, but answered honestly. "Your previous regimen was monthly meals of two subjects at a time. Using that baseline, two weeks would be no problem. But that baseline has been..."
"Complicated," Winnie finished at the same time Maxim said "Totally fucked."
"Exactly, yes," she nodded. "By my count, your frequency of consumption has gone down a bit, unless you count Alexander, in which case it skyrockets. I'm not sure whether to rule Alexander out as an outlier, or perhaps count those occasions as partial meals to calculate a more accurate average-"
"I don't want numbers," Maxim groaned, "I need honest, human advice."
"Well, you've exercised impressive self-control around Alexander, as far as not digesting him goes. Optimistically, I'd say you could handle a two week sabbatical."
Maxim frowned. "And realistically?"
Winnie dropped the false smile. "It could be difficult, yes. Just because you haven't gone without him for an extended period of time doesn't mean you can't. You simply haven't had incentive to do so until now. I think you can rise to the challenge, sir."
A challenge. That was a nice spin to put on it. A test of his resolve.
"Alright, then."
"Excellent. I'll ensure Alexander's leave of absence is accounted for and his office work is taken care of. You focus on keeping him safe." Winnie waited for Maxim to meet his eyes, and fixed him with a hard glare.
Maxim's instinct was to react flippantly, but Winnie's skepticism was valid. This was his chance to restore her faith in him, at least somewhat.
"I will."
Alexander laid in the middle of the bed, the extra space around him filled with everything he needed in arm's reach: various electrolyte-filled drinks, snacks, his laptop, and even some books that, this time, he had no excuse not to finish. Every part of his body hurt to move, but flipping a page was among the less painful activities.
The only necessity not in arm's reach was Maxim. Winnie had taken care of the nursing, but Alexander wanted Maxim in the room. Aside from Winnie's brief visit, the two hadn't been apart since the incident, bound by some unspoken agreement not to let the other out of their sight. Maxim was surprised that Alexander wanted him around, but he wasn't complaining. If he hadn't been in the bedroom with Alexander, he probably would've ended up sitting right outside of it, like a guard dog, ears pricked toward the sound of restful breathing and rustling pages.
"So, Winnie said two weeks?" Alexander asked him after she left. "Do you, uh, think you can make it that long?"
"Don't worry about it. Just rest up."
"You're avoiding the question."
Maxim paused before doubling down. He didn't want to make another promise he couldn't keep. "Fine, yes, of course I can wait two weeks."
"Um. Because last time it was just five days, and you couldn't even wait until after work."
"I can wait if I feel like it," Maxim huffed. "I could wait a month, even."
Maxim realized what a dangerous claim that was. Alexander's skepticism vanished, replaced with a self-assured smirk.
"Wanna bet?"
The next day, Maxim presented Alexander with a new contract. A physical, printed-on-paper contract. That should have conveyed to Alexander how seriously Maxim was taking this bet, but he couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"It was YOUR idea," Maxim snapped. Granted, he'd taken the liberty of setting the actual parameters, but this only happened because Alexander had challenged him on a whim. And what was Alexander second-guessing this for, anyway? He wasn't giving up anything. Maxim, though...
"I know but I didn't think you'd take it so seriously. I thought you said that 'waiting a month' thing as a joke."
That truth was worrying. Maxim's dependency was so established at this point that Alexander laughed at the very idea that Maxim could resist it. "I have to acknowledge that I've been too reliant on you. Going cold turkey for a month should help with that."
"But it says here if you win, you get to eat me every day for the following two weeks. Doesn't that defeat the purpose?" Early on, that had been their usual schedule, more or less. Alexander barely considered it a concession.
"It's an incentive to follow through," Maxim explained. "By the time the month's up, I might not even want that. That's the goal, anyway."
"And if you don't make it a full month..." Alexander reread the paragraph outlining the terms of his success. He'd been surprised when Maxim had agreed to it, certain there was a catch hidden in the dense legalese. "You made this confusingly complicated on purpose."
"Have you never read a 'Terms of Service' before?"
"Like the shit it shows you before letting you install Tumblr? Fuck no."
"Why am I not surprised. Fine, you can ask Winnie for a second opinion if that'll convince you."
"...No, that's okay."
"Great. Let's shake on it." Maxim reached his right hand across the table. "Deal?"
The terms were too good to be true--either way, Alexander benefited, and that made him wary. Maxim was a man of business, he wouldn't intentionally make a deal that wasn't in his favor. There was something else happening that wasn't explicitly written out, but Alexander couldn't just flat out ask Maxim if he was hiding something. He'd have to find out for himself.
Alexander reached out his smaller hand to be engulfed in Maxim's larger one. "Deal."
Maxim spent much of the following Monday assuring his other employees that Alexander was fine. Best get out ahead of that worry, since Winnie had given Alexander a full two weeks off. She told them as much, but they needed to hear it from Maxim himself. And even then, folks kept a careful eye on Alexander's desk, as if daring Winnie to try and clear his things away.
When, at the end of the week, Alexander's desk was as cluttered as ever, people around the office seemed to ease up. Professional concerns were ruled out, and the gossip took a sharp turn for the personal. Maxim missed the subtle changes, noting only that he was met with less trepidation and more concern, but even without Winnie's help, he was clued into things eventually.
"Are things alright at home?" A particularly brave employee named Derek asked Maxim on one of his water cooler breaks.
"Yes. Fine," Maxim replied shortly, willing the cooler to dispense water faster.
"Don't get me wrong, the kid deserves a break," Derek added. "But you've been hitting that overtime pretty hard yourself, as of late."
"And what, pray tell, does this have to do with Alexander?"
"Boss. We know." Derek gave him an unsettlingly warm smile. "And I know, I know, legal issues and whatnot, but you don't have to worry. If any of the suits give you shit, I'll vouch for you." He winked, and Maxim was momentarily charmed by his offer of help. Derek had nothing on Winnie's capacity for bureaucratic warfare, but it was the thought that counted.
"You don't need to concern yourself with our relationship," Maxim said gently without being chastising. The flow of water from the plastic spout continued to sputter slowly, preventing Maxim from fleeing.
"Sure sure sure. I'm just worried you're avoiding one another, or something."
"Not at all. Alexander's simply taking a vacation. And I have work that needs doing." His water bottle was filled 75%, but Maxim figured that was as good an outro as any, and stepped aside to let Derek use the cooler. Derek didn't take his eyes off Maxim, water being the furthest thing from his mind.
"But...thank you, for your concern," Maxim added placatingly. Derek smiled back. He turned to grab a paper cup, allowing Maxim to make a break for the seclusion of his office.
Friday came around, and Alexander realized he'd barely seen any of Maxim that week. The days spent on Maxim's couch, mostly napping and using his phone, had slurred together. Maxim had been getting home later and later. The overlap of time between Maxim getting off work and Alexander going to bed was growing slimmer by the day, until there was just enough time for a shared dinner and some small talk.
"But you are totally avoiding me," Alexander pointed out, having heard Maxim's report on the latest office happenings.
"That's- it's not like that. I just feel more comfortable spending time at the office, that's all."
"Maxim, it isn't fair for me to basically kick you out of your own house," Alexander said, feeling guilty. "Do you want me to stay at my place for a while?"
"No!!" The table shook with Maxim's unintended outburst. Apologetically, he settled the table and took a grounding breath. "I would prefer it if you remained here."
"Yeah. Me too." Maxim was gone most of the day, but the residual fear hit Alexander hardest at night. He couldn't imagine falling asleep in his own bed, without having Maxim in the other room.
That was another change. Along with staying later at the office, Maxim also refused to sleep in bed with him. Something about 'prolonged physical proximity'.
"This won't work if you just avoid me," Alexander said. "Isn't the point to, like, deal with it? Your, uh, urges?"
"I AM dealing with it."
"You're doing it wrong."
"What, you have a better idea?" Maxim snapped. "This isn't easy for me, I'll have you know! Not when you're sitting there like..." He wouldn't admit it, but the strategy he'd adopted was starting to backfire. Instead of craving Alexander less, he was fixating even harder on the time spent at home, so deliciously close to his perfect dinner. Knowing he had such a narrow window of time to grab Alexander made it harder to resist doing so when he had that opportunity. And most of Alexander's injuries were healed by now...if he was careful about it...
Maxim shook his head, forcefully derailing that treacherous train of thought. He opened his mouth to apologize, but realized that drool had begun dripping all the way down his chin. He had been staring at Alexander while visibly drooling.
Worst of all, Alexander was struggling not to laugh out loud. He hid his mouth behind one hand, but Maxim gathered enough from the glee in his eyes.
"Don't," he growled, tearing at a paper napkin and hurriedly drying his face. Hunger was making him irritable enough without Alexander making it worse.
"I didn't say anything." Alexander looked pointedly at his empty Styrofoam tray.
Maxim abandoned the rest of his meal and sulked to the living room. Alexander waited until he was gone before he dared to look back up. He didn't trust himself to hold in his laughter. Seeing Maxim so openly desperate was a relief, in a way. And while the image of Maxim drooling like a cartoon dog didn't erase Alexander's trauma completely, it was a hell of a distraction, at the very least.
No way Alexander was losing this bet.
Monday of the following week--officially the longest Maxim had ever gone without eating him--Alexander decided to get more proactive. He timed out Maxim's usual schedule, and had his trap laid out by the time he got home: Popcorn poured into two bowls, a Netflix movie ready to play, and Alexander waiting for him on the couch.
Maxim knew something was up, but that couldn't stop him from walking right into it. "What is this?"
"What does it look like?" Alexander chuckled. "I'm forcing you to spend time with me."
Maxim viewed the setup with skepticism. "This is about the bet, isn't it?"
"N-nooo," Alexander stammered. "It's, I'm just bored being alone in the house all day. One movie."
"You could, ah, go somewhere else while I'm at work," Maxim offered. "Or invite someone over. I don't mind."
"Maybe later." Alexander waved Maxim into the room. "Sit."
Maxim rolled his eyes and plopped down in his armchair, snatching a bowl of popcorn on his way. It was cold, but he couldn't blame Alexander for that; he had, yet again, put in unnecessary overtime. "This is just insulting. I can handle being in the same goddamn room as you for ninety minutes."
Alexander nodded toward the empty cushions beside him. "If you're as in control as you say you are, you should be able to sit next to me on the couch, right?"
Maxim choked on a fistful of popcorn. "I- ack!" he coughed out some stray kernels and cleared his throat. "Of course I could do that. But I didn't, ah, know that was allowed."
Alexander laughed in surprise. He'd expected pushback, but that reasoning hit him out of nowhere. "Bwuh? 'Allowed'? Maxim, this is your house!"
"I know that, but-" There was a particular connotation Maxim had associated with the couch. That area was Alexander's space, and the only time Maxim ever intruded on it was...well. He'd never correct that association if he kept avoiding his own couch. If Alexander didn't mind it, then Maxim didn't, either.
That's what he told himself, shuffling his way to the opposite side of the couch, in defiance of the way his stomach had started fluttering. He leaned into the armrest, and the couch groaned in complaint. Alexander, noting the way Maxim was leaning away from him, started the movie without another word.
Maxim had expected the temptation to be stronger, sitting this close to Alexander, but it was the opposite. Watching Alexander from the corner of his eye softened the pangs of hunger that persisted no matter how much stale popcorn he ate. It was distracting, but in a different way. He struggled to keep his eyes on the movie, but at least he wasn't drooling again.
The frequent glances were hard for Alexander to miss. "Are you okay?" Alexander asked partway through the movie. "If it's too much, I-"
"It's not," Maxim blurted. "But I, would you mind...?"
To Alexander's surprise, Maxim scooted a bit closer, crossing onto the middle cushion. Alexander encouraged him with a shy little nod, and Maxim closed the distance between them, arms brushing together. When Maxim took Alexander's hand and he didn't immediately pull away, Maxim felt his restlessness settle.
"I'm...very glad that you're safe," Maxim murmured. He ran his thumb over the back of Alexander's hand, pink but unmarked, little evidence left of what Alexander was safe from.
Holding Alexander's hand made it easier for Maxim to focus on the movie. It was a constant, tangible reminder that his roommate was alright, under his protection. The desire to pull Alexander even closer didn't stray far from his mind, but Maxim found it easier to brush away, an annoyance rather than an compulsion. At the worst, he would tense up for a few seconds, fighting those feelings, before settling back into the couch, content to simply squeeze Alexander's hand in his own.
Credits rolled, and Alexander remained uneaten. "I'm surprised," he said to Maxim, "you really held it together." He'd noticed Maxim's occasional stiffness. It was almost flattering, knowing that proximity alone was enough to fluster Maxim like that, even if the reasoning behind it was less than ideal.
Truth be told, Maxim hadn't really been thinking about eating Alexander until he said that, prompting his stomach to growl. Maxim gulped nervously, but Alexander laughed it off.
"Want me to order something? Or y'know, I could try cooking dinner?" he offered.
That's right, Maxim was supposed to be starving, wasn't he? Odd, that his thoughts were only now turning to food. "Takeout's fine."
"If you say so," Alexander shrugged. "I'm making something next time, though."
Maxim got up to relocate to his chair, but Alexander stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Oh, and Maxim? We can at least alternate sleeping on the couch and bed, yeah?"
It would've been polite to argue--Alexander was still recovering--but Maxim couldn't find the words. "Yeah. Whatever you say."
Movie nights grew to replace their usual after-work activity. Alexander wasn't sure whether it was helping or not--yes, it was better than having to awkwardly avoid each other until bed, but Maxim still seemed twitchy by the time the credits rolled. That Friday, Maxim came home looking as bedraggled as ever. He disregarded popcorn entirely and went straight for the leftover pizza in the fridge, scarfing it down like his life depended on it.
Maybe it did? Alexander still wasn't sure about the details of Maxim's condition, but he didn't seem to be all that healthy recently.
Before starting the movie--a cheesy horror flick Alexander had picked out--Alexander cleared his throat. "Hey, Maxim? So, I'm not going to tell you to murder someone-"
"Good start," Maxim nodded.
"-but, like, why don't you just eat someone else?"
Maxim put down the slice of pizza he'd been about to swallow whole. "You're special. I can't simply go out and get another Alexander. And that's why I have to be patient so you can rest up."
"...So you can eat me later, right?"
"GOD what is with everyone and thinking I only-" Maxim huffed, and rubbed his tired eyes. "I, Alexander, look, I can't blame you for thinking whatever awful things about me. But I don't care about you ONLY because I want to eat you. That should be obvious. Whatever I said before, about you only being food, that was a lie."
Honestly, Alexander had always sort of suspected that. From all the way back when Maxim had given him bad CPR on his desk after half-eating him, Alexander had known there was something more going on. He still didn't know what that 'something more' was, exactly, but whatever it was had kept Alexander alive thus far, and that was good enough for him.
He and Maxim were friends, in the kind of way where the only other option was to be enemies, and Alexander didn't see that route ending well for him. And it was easy to be Maxim's friend most of the time. Maybe not when he was slathering Alexander in saliva and prodding him from outside his abdominals and stomach fat, but those times were outliers in what was otherwise a pretty chill relationship. He let Alexander hang out at his place, bought him fancy dinners, and was generally nice to talk to.
Were they good enough friends for Maxim to not kill him when he eventually got hungry enough? Probably not, but that didn't mean Maxim wasn't sincere right now. Maxim truly did care about Alexander, in some fucked up way.
"You're right," Alexander said. "I'm sorry."
"Don't fucking apologize," Maxim rolled his eyes. "You didn't say anything wrong. I was just letting you know...y'know. Now let's watch this movie you've been hyping up."
---
"And you're sure it came out in 2020? Because the special effects looked straight out of Power Rangers."
"Practical effects are cool!" Alexander said defensively. "Plus, like, nostalgia."
"Oh please. You're not old enough to be 'nostalgic' for rubber masks."
"Fine. But it was funny."
Maxim shook his head. "You have some weird tastes, dude."
"That's rich coming from you."
"Ha," Maxim deadpanned, "Don't tempt me."
'Tempt', huh? That...wasn't such a bad idea. Alexander wasn't exactly in any hurry to be consumed again, but Maxim's self-control so far had been solid, solid enough to make Alexander uneasy. He was starting to worry that Maxim would win the bet, which, at the start of the month, Alexander had thought utterly impossible. Maxim may have made it two weeks already, but he couldn't wait a whole fucking month. Right?
Alexander still wanted to win the bet, but it wasn't just losing the bet that worried him. It was only Maxim's obsession with Alexander that had kept him alive this long. But if Maxim's 'cold turkey' approach was actually working...
The only solution was to win the bet. By any means necessary.
Alexander had only been off work for two weeks, but now that he was back in the office, he had seemingly forgotten how to use email. That's what Maxim figured, since Alexander was now physically walking into Maxim's office every time he had a question or update. Coincidentally, Alexander's water bottle apparently emptied at the exact rate Maxim's did, because Alexander continued running into him at the water cooler.
And sitting right next to him at every meeting.
And offering to join him when he went out for lunch. Alexander NEVER went out for lunch.
Maxim would've taken a thousand disturbingly personal water cooler chats with Derek over this stunt of Alexander's. Originally Maxim had resolved to ignore it, pretend it wasn't infuriating whenever Alexander sauntered up to him with a faux-innocent smile. It was bad enough that Maxim had to be near Alexander at home, and now he was clinging to him at work, too?
Nevertheless, Maxim endured the week without incident.
"We should go somewhere," Alexander suggested on Friday as the two of them walked out together. "I don't have any plans, do you?"
"You're making this difficult on purpose," Maxim groaned. He wasn't looking forward to the weekend. He wished he did have plans, if only for an excuse to leave the house. The gym was an option, but knowing Alexander, he'd just tag along, and that would mean...no, Maxim wasn't following that hypothetical any further.
Alexander smirked. "I'm just trying to help." No use playing coy anymore. He had been doing his best to place himself in Maxim's proximity, both at work and in the office. And Maxim had noticed, no doubt about that. But he was still holding out. Only a week left in the bet, and Maxim's strategy of total abstinence was proving disappointingly effective. Nothing Alexander had done so far had pushed him over the edge. He'd have to get bold.
Alexander was too busy devising new ways to push Maxim's buttons to notice that Maxim was not driving them home, but to a strip mall. He wasn't familiar with this particular mall, but the reason for their visit was glaringly obvious.
"It's weird that this is the first time we've gone to a buffet," Alexander observed as they got out of the car. "Y'know, considering."
Maxim sneered. "Considering, what? Just because I eat people doesn't mean I don't have taste. I'm not an indiscriminate eating machine."
"So the reason we're going here now?.."
"Just...trying something different." As though it wasn't obvious.
If Alexander was taking this bet seriously, Maxim would have to do the same. Consuming someone else was still off the table, so this was the next best thing. He'd stuff himself so full of soggy fried chicken and room temperature Jell-O that, even if his willpower ran out, he would be physically incapable of choking Alexander down.
Maxim hit the buffet like a tornado, going just short of tackling people to get to the serving trays. The pace at which he filled and subsequently emptied his plates was truly alarming, to the point that Alexander was certain he'd make himself sick.
While Maxim was busy transforming into a human vacuum, Alexander picked at a single plate of chicken fingers in their shared booth. Maxim seemed to spend as little time in the booth as possible, and when he did have to stop to stuff an entire steak in his mouth, he ignored Alexander completely. With such a narrow window of opportunity, Alexander couldn't afford to waste time browsing trays of macaroni and baked potatoes. He had to wait, to be ready for when Maxim returned.
As he sat back down, Maxim got the immediate sense that Alexander was up to something. He tried to focus on his food, inhaling it as fast as inhumanly possible, but he couldn't ignore Alexander's...noises. Maxim wasn't one to talk, but Alexander was eating very loudly. He looked up, and the human vacuum was abruptly unplugged.
Alexander's chicken fingers were practically untouched, but somehow, implausibly, his hands were dripping with barbecue sauce. He ran his tongue from the heel of his palm up to his pinkie, briefly bringing the digit between his lips, then withdrawing it with a loud pop. Like a cat cleaning its paws, Alexander was thorough, focused entirely on his task, ignoring the way Maxim stared with both longing and disgust.
"CHRIST, Alexander." It seemed to physically pain Maxim to look away, hiding his eyes behind his hand. "That is DISGUSTING." But Maxim couldn't ignore that the smell of Alexander's marinated flesh was intoxicating. The food he'd been filling his gut with seemed to turn to air, he was hungrier than ever. Alexander knew exactly what he was doing, too. If he had to sit here any longer, Maxim wasn't sure he could wait until they got home from the restaurant, let alone the rest of the month.
"I have to get this stuff off somehow," Alexander said nonchalantly. Maxim was drooling again, but this time he held back his laughter. He raised his other sauce-covered hand to his mouth, but paused, looking thoughtful.
"Unless..." Alexander's eyes slid over to Maxim. "...you want to do it for me?"
As that last syllable was uttered, Maxim snatched Alexander's wrist and pulled him from the booth. Alexander's chest smacked against the table, but he was too startled to resist. Even if he had tried, the grip around his wrist felt tight enough to break it.
Then Alexander's hand was wet, and he felt something smooth and slimy press against his palm. He saw, but couldn't quite comprehend, his arm extended toward Maxim, whose lips had sealed around his forearm. In the time it took to blink, Maxim removed Alexander's hand, but not without running his tongue across every patch of skin he could taste.
Alexander snapped his hand away from Maxim's grip. Maxim was licking his lips, looking at Alexander with half-lidded eyes, something approaching satisfaction. Like that quick taste was enough to stave off his unnatural hunger, if only for now. It was Alexander's turn to look scandalized, holding his spit-soaked hand as though it had been infected. It was still warm, still alight where Maxim's tongue had briefly entwined his fingers.
"I-I...I'm going to go c-clean up, in the bathroom," Alexander stammered, already walking away before finishing the sentence.
"Yeah," Maxim grumbled through a mouthful of food, which he was consuming faster than ever. "You do that."
Alexander had taken things too far. Maxim was no longer just flustered, but furious. He couldn't stand to look at Alexander after he got back from the bathroom, and continued to give him the cold shoulder until they got home. At least Maxim had done him the courtesy of waiting until they were alone to chew Alexander out.
"What's wrong with you?!?" Maxim roared, echoing the accusations that were already occupying Alexander's thoughts. "In public, Alexander? What were you thinking?!"
Alexander hung his head. He knew full well what he'd been risking. More than that, he was embarrassed to have stooped so low just to get a reaction out of Maxim. He'd taken a stupid risk, Maxim had called his bluff, and now he needed to answer for it. But there was nothing he could say.
"I would never have imagined you'd go so far over a stupid bet. If I didn't know better, I'd think you WANTED me to eat you!"
"I just..." Alexander's voice broke immediately. He didn't have the confidence to think of a convincing lie, and the truth...it was too shameful and complicated to explain.
Maxim read the internal conflict in Alexander's body language, the way he pulled his shoulders in and kneaded the skin between his thumb and forefinger. "...You don't want to get eaten, right?" he asked, anger fading fast. "This is just because of the bet, right?"
Alexander shook his head.
Maxim looked at him with horror, the same way he'd looked when Alexander had tried to rub his human-filled belly, almost a month ago. Alexander had been so, well, normal since then, it had been easy for Maxim to ignore how fucked up he probably was. It wasn't like Alexander could go to therapy, even if he clearly needed it. Because Alexander never mentioned it--what Roost did--Maxim had been happy to assume it was all over, that things could be the same between them. Alexander was tough, after all.
Maybe too tough for his own good. Grinning and bearing his trauma until it finally broke him.
"Alexander, please talk to me," Maxim lowered his voice, trying to hide his mounting panic. Alexander had curled into himself, but peeked at Maxim through the gap between his knees. Expecting something more, Maxim realized.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just, no good at this stuff, like, y'know, talking through shit," Maxim rambled. Whatever Alexander needed, he'd just have to keep talking until he stumbled across it. "But whatever's going on with you, I'll listen, right? And I'm sorry for avoiding you, I was trying to keep from doing something stupid, but that was stupid, and-"
"S'okay," Alexander mumbled, just loudly enough for Maxim to hear.
"But it's not! Not if you..." Maxim didn't want to say it, but if he stopped talking now, he would be making the same fucking mistake twice. "If you, y'know. Miss being eaten."
Alexander didn't miss it, exactly. Frankly, he'd already been eaten alive plenty for one lifetime. He just wanted to feel wanted. The conditions under which Maxim 'wanted' him were troubling, sure, but it had been almost flattering, the way Maxim needed Alexander to stick around. To the point where Maxim had put himself in real, physical danger, on top of angering the shadowy figures behind the scenes. It was easy to overlook all of that, with how much more often Alexander himself was the one in danger, but it wasn't nothing. In fact, Alexander thought, it might be the most anyone had ever done for him.
It was a little sappy, but fuck, Maxim had literally killed for him. What's sappier than that?
"I don't miss it. Not really," Alexander answered after an extended pause, to Maxim's great relief.
"Then what is it?"
"What if-" A lump rose in Alexander's throat, like his subconscious would rather choke him than let him continue. He swallowed painfully, and said, "What if you don't want me anymore?"
Maxim grabbed Alexander's shoulders, focusing his attention on Maxim, if only for a moment. "Are you fucking kidding me, Alexander? If this past month proves anything, it's that I absolutely need you. No fucking doubt about it."
Alexander stared down at a mole on his wrist, half-heartedly trying to pick it off with his other hand. He was crying--probably had been for some time--but after listening to Maxim, he smiled faintly. "You...mean that?"
"Of course." Maxim shook Alexander's shoulder for emphasis. "Why do you think I've been trying to win this bet so bad?"
Alexander finally met Maxim's gaze, his eyes glimmering. "I still plan to win, you know."
Maxim's eyebrows rose. "Interesting. As do I."
This time it was Maxim who picked out the movie and made the popcorn. He also made a cozy little nest out of blankets and pillows on the couch, just for Alexander. Maybe a little too cozy, because Alexander fell asleep halfway through the film.
"M'sorry," Alexander mumbled. He'd awoken in Maxim's arms as he carried him, bridal-style, to bed.
"Don't be," Maxim shrugged off. "We'll finish it some other time." He tucked Alexander into bed, slowly, like he was trying to drag it out.
Maxim cleared his throat. "Ahem. All things considered, perhaps we could resume sleeping together. In the strictest sense of the term", he appended, seeing Alexander turn pale.
"Are you-" Alexander stopped himself. He shouldn't care if Maxim could control himself or not. Wasn't that exactly what he had been aiming for? "Nevermind. If you want to throw the bet like that, it's fine by me."
Maxim didn't give Alexander the satisfaction of a response.
There was no sense of danger as Maxim crawled into bed beside him. It was an uncomfortable duality, being calmed by Maxim's presence, while at the same time being too anxious to sleep. The memory of Maxim sucking on his arm like a lollipop was still fresh in his mind. Maxim was firmly against using smartphones in bed--something about blue light and insomnia--but fuck it. Alexander grabbed his phone from the nightstand and ducked under the sheet. He'd just browse for a while, he assured himself, until Maxim fell asleep.
Alexander remained on edge until Maxim's breathing deepened, and he felt his weight settle into the mattress with finality. The relief that followed ran over Alexander like a rising tide. Good, he thought, tucking the phone in his pocket, just me being paranoid, and he settled in for the deepest sleep he'd had in weeks.
Deep enough that, even when he woke up feeling uncomfortably hot and sweaty, he was reluctant to open his eyes. It wasn't uncommon for Alexander to sweat in his sleep, but he didn't usually wake up with full beads of moisture still dripping over his face. And neck. And shoulders.
Alexander kicked at the covers, eyes stubbornly closed in a refusal to wake up. His feet only made contact with the mattress. Actually, his lower body wasn't warm at all, even though he had somehow sweat straight through the sleeves of his sleep shirt. He pushed back against the blanket wrapped around his torso, but his arms could barely move, pinned against his chest by whatever was surrounding him.
Accepting that he would never fall back asleep at this rate, Alexander opened one eye. And he opened it again. And a third time, because every time he tried it, he couldn't see anything. Not even the LED clock display, or streetlights through the window.
A glob of 'sweat' dripped onto his cheek. Alexander flinched, pressing his head against something soft and wet. Okay, yeah, he'd had dreams like this, but they were never so realistic. Or so wet.
The first coherent thought Alexander had regarding his current situation was oh yo I won the bet.
"Maxim," he muttered. "Maxim you lose." His voice, already groggy with sleep, was muffled by the muscle around it, and blended into the rush of heavy breathing around him. Alexander could barely hear himself, so Maxim probably couldn't, either.
"Hey MORON," Alexander said louder. "I win! Let me out now!"
The throat around him rumbled like Maxim was trying to answer. Alexander felt the muscles holding him shift, and drew his arms in closer, expecting to wriggle right out.
Instead, Maxim's gullet seized the opportunity to pull Alexander further inside, opening wide, allowing his hips to slide right into Maxim's mouth.
"You're asleep?!?" Alexander shouted incredulously. The lack of answer on Maxim's part was, itself, an answer. Maxim's muffled mumblings continued as Alexander was pressed into his stomach. When his feet fell in behind him, Maxim smacked his lips, and his mumblings became slightly more coherent.
"Wherez 'ander?" Maxim pawed at the vacated half of the bed.
"In here, fucker!" Alexander shouted. He shifted his position in the stomach to aim a single, solid kick at the front wall, where the stretched skin should've been most sensitive.
"Nnn," Maxim whined. He prodded his gut like it was a separate entity, trying to push it away. "Gedoff..."
"Dammit!" Alexander noted that Maxim's stomach seemed less active than usual, but he didn't trust like that. Not if he had to rely on Maxim waking up naturally, and Alexander had no clue what time it was.
Wait, that he could fix. He struggled to get his hand to his hip and pull out his phone. The bright screen illuminated his surroundings in a way Alexander didn't care for at all. Maxim's stomach walls were pink and glistening, and seeing them only reminded Alexander of how tightly he was packed away. He focused instead on the display reading 2:56 AM. Way too early for Maxim to wake up on his own anytime soon.
There was one thing guaranteed to wake Maxim up, if Alexander could find it. He scrolled through his phone's files, praying he hadn't already deleted the one he needed. Luckily, no, despite how little storage space Alexander's phone had to spare, the default ringtones were still there. Thank you, bloatware.
Maxim's alarm was definitely one of the defaults; Alexander didn't think Maxim even knew how to transfer files to his phone. The names of the default alarm tones were all generic bullshit like "Slow Rise" and "Chord", so he just played them one after the other, starting from the top and working his way down. Just like a kid who'd gotten their first phone and was playing the ringtones for fun. Small mercy that Maxim was asleep, so there was no one to point out how ridiculous he looked.
Eventually, Alexander landed on the right one, a familiar, anxiety-inducing jingle that grated his nerves. Judging from the sudden hitch in Maxim's breathing, the alarm tone had a similar effect on him.
"Huh?" Alexander felt Maxim stir around him. He was probably trying to sit up, in which case his full belly couldn't have gone unnoticed. Nevertheless, Maxim gave his stomach an experimental poke. "Alexander, that you?"
Alexander poked back. "Who else?"
"Yeah yeah. One sec."
To his surprise, Alexander was released almost immediately. Maxim hadn't even bothered getting up, instead depositing Alexander right back into bed.
"Guh. Fuck," Maxim muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. He looked more tired than angry. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. We'll discuss this in the morning."
That was fine by Alexander. He was too exhausted to come up with a good 'I told you so'. "Right. I'm going to go wash-"
As he moved to leave, Maxim pulled him back into bed, disregarding the moisture clinging to Alexander's upper torso and pulling him close.
"You're warm," Maxim said into the crook of Alexander's shoulder.
Realizing that Maxim wasn't going in for seconds, Alexander relaxed back into the bed. The sensation of his nightshirt being glued to him with saliva wasn't great, but hey, he'd slept through worse. And, he had to agree, the bed was nice and warm, albeit a bit sticky.
"Okay," Alexander acquiesced. "Good night."
"G'night," Maxim replied, half-asleep. And added, as if by reflex, "Love you."
Alexander froze, but only for a moment. It probably meant nothing. Nevertheless, he tucked that tidbit away. One more thing that could wait until morning.
#v0re#v.ore#v/ore#same size vore#soft vore#safe vore#exit interview#cock writes#idek if 'vore' is still blocked its been ages
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Out For Blood | Chapter 12: Cool Kids Table
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Munson!Reader ; Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!O.C.
Warnings: Strong language, season 4 vol. 1 (NONE FOR VOL. 2 YET) spoilers, angst, steve being a dingus, verbal fighting, mentions of smoking a blunt, Vecna,
Word Count: 1.1k SHORT I KNOW BUT YOU’RE GETTING ANOTHER CHAPTER TODAY AFTER I ADD IN SOME NEW PLOT POINTS
Author’s Note: WE BACK BITCHES! not gonna lie I lost inspiration there for a moment with writing literally anything, I haven’t even touched my own song book/journal in weeks sooo yeah... anyways TWO MORE CHAPTERS (hopefully two if not two after one) I WILL BE POSTING IN THE NEXT 24 HOURS
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“What wasn’t meant to last forever?” Steve asked her.
(Y/N) shook her head, “Steve…”
“No answer the question, what wasn’t meant to last forever?” Steve pleaded with her.
“Us…Us Steve, we weren’t meant to last forever and everything that keeps happening to us, to you! It’s insane, and honestly I don’t know how much more of this I can handle… it’s taking a toll on my health.” (Y/N) spoke with her hands moving around gesturing between the two of them and then everything around them as she looked at Steve.
“(Y/N/N) you don’t mean that…” Steve reached for her again but she stepped back out of his reach. “I know this entire situation is insane but we can get through this, you can get through this.”
“I don’t feel like I can really be myself when I’m around you.” She felt a few tears roll down her cheeks, wiping them away immediately hoping that Steve hadn’t seen them.
“What is that even supposed to mean?” Steve asked her.
“What we have, Steve, us together the whole witty banter thing is amazing, it’s wonderful and I feel like I did last summer when we spent time together watching movies and acting like little kids, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to face the side of you that I hate… the side of you who lied to me… the side of you who didn’t bother to come visit me.” She started as she began walking backwards, “Which me even still holding onto that still in and of itself should really indicate that there is to some degree a part of me that has a certain sense of uncertainty that you don’t fucking hate me.”
“Hate you? Why would I ever hate you, (Y/N)?” Steve walked toward her.
“Oh come on, Steve, what reason would you have not to hate me? I’ve been nothing but a cold hearted bitch to you, I never even wanted to hear you out about why you stood me up, I just let you think I hated you when I never did…” She whispered the last part before shaking her head, “Besides, I saw the way you looked at Nancy in there.” She pointed toward the house, “You still love her and it’s so fucking obvious to everyone but you apparently!” (Y/N) shouted at him as the rest of the group walked out.
Steve looked at her in utter shock at the words coming out of her mouth, he opened his mouth to respond before Jenny interrupted him, “(Y/N)... come on, calm down.” Jenny spoke as she walked down the steps.
“Calm down?” She looked at her friend in anger, “Not gonna fucking happen!”
“I can't, wrap my head around it.” Steve muttered, but she still heard him.
“Can’t wrap your head around what, Harrington?” (Y/N) asked him.
“Why you keep on bringing up old shit. It’s like we’re going in a never ending circle of ‘We’re fine’ to ‘Remember what happened last summer?’ As if I could ever fucking forget what happened last summer, but neither of us had the guts to speak to one another.” Steve told her, Jenny walked closer to the duo but (Y/N) glared at her so she stopped walking.
“That’s fucking rich coming from you Steve. You had so many opportunities to pick up that fucking phone and keep calling me, you knew where I lived.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose as she yelled.
“Why did I have to do any of that, (Y/N)?” Steve shouted back at her.
“Did you fucking expect me to come into Family Video and be like ‘hey man, how have you been? What’s up? Haven’t seen you in months.’ and then have a nice conversation with you and maybe smoke a blunt I stole from my brother afterwards?” She asked him.
“I mean…” Steve shrugged.
“Steve, you do realize I spent every day wondering if you were ever going to show up… if even an ounce of you still liked me… now I spend every day wondering how I’m going to made into the butt end of a joke because the entire town knows you stood me up and that my pathetic ass still gave a fuck about you. That’s all I am these days.” She shook her head as she spoke.
“You’re what these days?” He asked her.
“A fucking joke to everyone, the town freak’s little sister, the girl that Steve Harrington stood up, the pity friendship of Jenny Henderson’s… the list goes on and yet I still beg for crumbs at the edge of the cool kids table from people who would never accept me.” (Y/N) turned around and walked a little further.
“Am I unstable? Is there something that I’m just not getting?” She asked quietly as she walked away, “You know what, I’ll be just fine… we’ll still cross paths from time to time.”
“I don’t think you’re a joke.” Steve spoke, (Y/N) stopped again so Steve took it as a sign to continue “And I could never hate you, (Y/N). I’ve been in love with you since the first time we watched The Muppet Movie together and you recited all of Kermit the Frog’s lines.” … but that’s not what (Y/N) heard.
“Why do I kid myself?” She heard Steve ask.
She turned around and tilted her head, “About what?”
“Why do I keep on pretending there’s something even worth holding on to?” He asked her.
“I’m a little confused…” She trailed off.
“I mean, you were just a rebound anyways (Y/N)... we both know I’ve only ever and will only ever love Nancy, you were just someone I knew I could string along until Nancy loved me again… which doesn’t seem like it will be much longer.” Steve spoke but something was off (Y/N) could tell. She looked around and noticed the blue hues all around them, before looking in front of her and noticing Steve was directly in front of her with ice blue eyes, she jumped at the sight before sprinting off across the street and past the playground.
“You’re gonna run like your worthless brother did instead of helping Chrissy?” She heard Steve’s voice say but she kept reminding herself it wasn’t him.
As she turned around to see if he was chasing her she tripped over an object, she looked at the object and groaned, “A fucking grandfather clock… Seriously?” She got up and continued running before being stopped by a small girl.
“(Y/N)?” The girl asked and looked up at her holding a broken teddy bear. (Y/N) gasped and stopped dead in her tracks as she looked at the girl, it was her in the same outfit from the day her mother died, “Help me, please.”
Taglist crossed out means it wouldn’t let me tag you we’ll blame tumblr for that one: @preciousbabypeter @honeymunson @willgrahampills @secretsicanthideanymore @tanyaherondale @lettyshush @kayt-marie @live-the-fangirl-life @burn1ngw00d @alainabooks143 @kamala-khann @dessmxsworld @xstormiii @guichu @fromthediariesofaoncer
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fic#steve harrington series#kers writes
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hey! i read the entirety of your fic the shire is burning in probably a bit over a week and i’m loving so mordor it is so far (i know i’ll sob if willow gets vecna’d) and i was just wondering if your putting it on pause while your writing twenty fours hours? which i’m also loving so much! you’re an excellent writer :D
i haven't put it on ao3 or wattpad yet but i have decided it is HEA guaranteed so don't sob <3 it'll all work out i swear!!!
honestly, i have considered doing this for one reason: the writing process for twenty four hours and mordor is vastly different. twenty four hours is fun and fairly easy for me to write, and quick when i actually sit down and do so, but mordor is an absolute labor of love. a lot more research, connecting dots, keeping timelines straight, etc. goes into it. and it's a story i'm writing far more for me than anyone else, so my perfectionism with mordor is at an all time high. i want to be proud of it. i want to look upon it with the same fondness as i do shire. which means giving myself the grace to step back and say, "hey. i'm not happy with this chapter. i'm not putting it out yet."
it's really scary because i'm scared those who are reading along for mordor might get bored or forget about it, but it's a choice i've highly considered making, especially being nearly halfway through twenty four hours! in that sense, i'd have time to write mordor's next few chapters between my writing of 24. also it would let me savor the nonsense i'm able to partake in with 24 haha.
anyways TL;DR - most likely mordor will be put on pause update wise. not writing wise, as i'm already about halfway through chapter five and chapter four is completely finished and edited. i'm just scared to post in case i write something in five and need to make edits haha. but yeah. thank you <3
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huuhhh since we can’t text n i know we always have this scenario where we want to talk about something but we forget.. i might as well just say how i feel right now, yeah?
it feels less daunting knowing you have no idea i’m writing this //edit: now you kind of do..
this all started because i reblogged something i already had liked for months but never posted it because it was too early, your brain would’ve completely shut off if you seen it right after I had admitted I wanted to give you hickies (Which was quite insane to say in the first 24 hours of your relationship but thats my point). (I’m not even sure i can do that anyways) I’ve always wanted to keep things slow with you and I’ve always felt like that even before we started dating!! And I suppose at this point I can say anything I feel soo.. hence the post.
The post obviously states the gist of it but thats not all (Which makes me think, why were you so starstruck that I’d be willing to kiss you while sitting on your lap when you’ve told me you want that anyways? Interesting). The thought of it makes me so nervous
I do really want to have kisses with you like that.. Small kisses would mean so much to me too but this is so much different. its intimate and longer and i like that about it. i wouldn’t want our kisses to end, you’d have to practically pull me off you like a cat on a cat tree. i’m so starved of your kisses it drives me crazy i need you so bad
How it would start I’m not so sure hehe.. Would we already be talking (flirting) and it escalated? Would you ask me to get close to you and i gave in? oorr were you distracted and i got grumpy and just plopped myself ontop of you? Any are plausible!
And i mean obviously i’m not gonna sit on your lap like you’re Santa Claus, i mean i have to be facing you to kiss you.. I’d have to (probably hold onto you for stability uhhh haha) place my legs beside your own and wrap my arms around your neck and let my fingers entangle through your beautiful dark hair. so beautiful. I could touch n play with it for hours. But that isn’t what you want to hear, right?
It would be kind of funny because i’ll finally be taller than you hehe
Godd I’d have to look at you even that makes me nervous!!!! How am I going to survive!!!
Being able to look over all your beautiful features before leaning in would drive me crazy as it is. …Okay i need to stop thinking about it my train of thought is going a completely different way hehe ANYWAYS.
Leaning forward and tilting my head (maybe even letting you do that for me) and connecting our lips together would heal any horrible feeling i’ve ever had in my body. It’s such an intimate and vulnerable thing to do and I’m so glad the first time I’ll do it will be with you.
And we can do if for however long you want because God knows I would only stop when you want to
Well
We have to breathe too actually I forgot thats a thing
Other than that we can kiss forever!!
And you know I wouldn’t be complaining if the roles were reversed either!! 😁😁
I love you
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I miss you.
Three stupid little words that carry so much. Considering the time we spent together likely amounts to less than 24 hours, it feels somewhat laughable to be sad in the way that I am right now, looking at your tagged on Instagram. And also, considering the fact that you have seemingly shut me out for no reason at all, it feels downright illogical to miss you.
Nevertheless, I persist.
I feel like I always come back to Phoebe Bridgers in moments of longing. She has hallmarked many moments of sadness in my life. You told me you had never really listened to her much, but a high school teacher of yours dug her. That was the first time we hung out, when I thought there was still a chance of an us. You know, the romantic kind. Not that there seems to be any inkling of an us in existence right now.
And I still don’t fucking understand why.
If it’s really because I passed out on your floor, like I initially thought, you can frankly go fuck yourself. In all honesty, I should be the one mad at you for the situation. But I’m not. Instead, I apologized for scaring you after giving you my weed and fixing your mistake and sulking back off alone to my room despite having passed out from dehydration and hunger and the sudden onset of being high.
What is it about you that attracts me?
Maybe I’m just into people who are doomed to disappoint me, to fuck me over and leave a lasting scar and at the very least give me something to complain about. Am I a beacon to these people? Do I just enjoy having a doomed relationship around me at all times, waiting in the wings to send me into a spiral and make me want to pull my skin off so I can finally breathe without wondering if you’re breathing at the same time and what your breaths sound like and if you ever might have harbored even a teensy amount of feelings that mirrored what I felt so ferociously and violently?
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
Am I pining after you? Am I waiting until you decide to put in the effort? Am I just forgetting about you and pretending like our fleeting friendship never happened, despite the fact that you demanded I come over when I told you we were in each other’s immediate vicinity? Or maybe it’s D: all of the above. It always ends up that way on multiple choice tests, doesn’t it? The obvious answer. The convenient avenue. The easy way out. Is ignoring my existence like this the easy way out for you, so you can go back to your skateboard and your girlfriend and your cooler friends who don’t pass out on your floor when they smoke weed?
Everyone hates you.
I mean, everyone in my life who knows of your shitty little existence. My best friends. My therapist. My mom (well, not really; she said that some people just aren’t good at texts; of course she fucking did, why wouldn’t she). Hell, I’m sure my dog would hate you if she knew what you did. I’ll tell her when I go home next weekend. I wish everyone actually hated you. That would make my life easier, instead of having to imagine you living a perfectly normal, happy life while I rot in my bed at two in the goddamn morning. I have class tomorrow. I should be asleep right now, sleeping off the last of my infection and trying to be a functioning human being so that my sociology professor thinks I give a fuck about his class. Instead, I’m awake, listening to sad music and thinking about if your light will be on in your window. Because yes, I do know which window is yours despite having been in your room only twice.
I’m sorry.
For all the mean things I just wrote about you, for passing out on your floor and scaring you, for wishing for you to die a satisfying death daily for the last three weeks. Maybe that was a bit much per the situation, but I honestly don’t care. So maybe I’m not sorry. Maybe it’s you who should be a little fucking sorry. I mean, you left me hanging for nine days (NINE. DAYS.) and you didn’t even have the decency to seem like you really cared about the situation or explain your odd fucking behavior? I personally would be groveling for forgiveness right now, but maybe that’s because I understand empathy.
Maybe this is the sweetest torture one could bear.
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Adam Grant wants you to ignore responding to emails; is he right?
I love Adam Grant.
I was an early, enthusiastic supporter of his deservedly celebrated book, Give and Take, reading then writing about it, including it in The Art of Client Service’s unforgivingly short list of 25 advertising and marketing books everyone should read. But when Grant writes a New York Times editorial with the title, “Your Email Does Not Constitute My Emergency,” alarm bells immediately go off. In the piece Grant claims,
“If the message isn’t time-sensitive, we should count delays in weeks or months, not days or hours.”
Weeks? Months? Does this guy have clients?
Grant is a college professor; his “clients” are mostly students, so Grant gets to pretty much set the rules. If he takes his time responding, what are they going to do, ignore their need for an answer? Complain? Drop his class?
The one thing I’ve learned with “real” clients – the people agencies work with, who in essence sign your paycheck – is they hate, absolutely hate, being ghosted. You wait weeks or months to respond to a client, you won’t have a client; you’ll have an ex-client.
Look, I get it. You’re so bombarded with incoming -- emails, texts, voicemails, one more demanding than the next -- it’s near impossible to keep up. If you work in client service, it essentially means you are on call 24/7 with unforgiving clients and “I-need-it now!” colleagues.
But no matter how heavy the inbound tonnage, you still need to follow-up, which explains why, in workshop on Five Ways to Build Trust with Clients and Colleagues, I start by acknowledging the hard, cold truth of what you face.
Most people I know run around with their hair on fire, beleaguered by a daily email inbox choked with messages demanding a response. I too am under siege, but it’s nothing like the hundreds of messages you face daily. For help, I turn to Steven Covey, author of the best-selling business book, Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, which offers a simple, elegant way to help address the problem of too many emails and too little time.
As the chart that follows shows, Covey divides the world intersecting along a vertical axis marked, “Urgent,” and a horizontal one marked, “Important.” If an incoming email, text, or voicemail message is in the upper right-hand box, meaning it’s both urgent and important – a client is angry about a mistake; your boss is pissed off about something -- you respond immediately. By “immediately” I ideally mean within the hour, if not sooner. If you detect real anger, forget email or text; pick up the phone and call.
Conversely, if your spouse or significant other email to ask you what you’d like for dinner, it’s probably not urgent or all that important, meaning it belongs in the lower left-hand corner. You don’t ignore it, but you don’t need to jump on it to respond either; you’ll get to it, but not right now.
If an email, text, or voicemail is one but not the other – important but not urgent, or urgent but not important – you prioritize these according to need and address them as such, with the degree of urgency each requires.
If you don’t have an answer to what’s being asked, respond with, “Got your message, I’ll be back with an answer by X date/time.” It takes just seconds to compose and buys you the time you need, holding your client (or colleague, for that matter) at bay. You heard them, acknowledged them, and promised to substantively respond to them; you don’t ghost them, frustrate them, and possibly lose them.
Covey’s solution is admittedly a blunt instrument – it doesn’t account for the needs and nuances that each of you face day-to-day as you navigate your email inbox – and I certainly don’t expect anyone to revert to the drawing a chart each and every time you receive a message that demands a reply. But if you have the urgent/important equation in mind as you decide if you need to respond now, in an hour, or in a day, it will bring a degree of order to what is all-too-real chaos.
If, however, you default to Adam Grant’s misguided folly, all it will do is open a window of new business opportunity for those of us who take email replies seriously.
Grant thinks we mistake “promptness for politeness.” He’s wrong. It’s not politeness that motivates being responsive; it’s good business sense.
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Chloe’s Awakening
* Chloe’s head was Shaken and dizzy as she tried to stand or walk but falls down to the floor as medic helped her up and puts her back on the Bed* Chloe:Where the hell am I??
Medic: You’re in our Medical station or center you were Knocked out for some reason
Chloe: What’s your name?
Medic: If you’re going to attack me just forget it because you’re way too weak and low on energy and You’re in no shape to fight you got a nasty headache the names medic
Chloe: Damnit Where’s Jake?
Medic: Busy with his lovers
Chloe: what’s his lovers names?
Medic: Can’t you’ll have to ask him yourself but you need rest Chloe Omega, The Omega Queen
Chloe: Hm You know who I am?
Medic: Yes The Omega Guardians Doesn’t Like a Leader who Attacks the Awakened Prince
Chloe: I had To Wake him up!
Medic: Yea But Not by Fighting! Jake hasn’t Remembered you for almost twenty years he has been Focused on Missions and Those who need protection and safety, and he has His Lovers that he loves to the Maximum meaning Universal love
Chloe: oh
Medic: Where were you for the past 24 years? Jake’s now 44 years old but in human years 22 years old
Chloe: Training, Educating, Learning… Because my Great Grandmother has passed away and is given me the rank of Queen of Omega
Medic: Hm but your powers and abilities are Very Lacking like you did all the Wrong moves and techniques
Chloe: I was Distracted
Medic: By Anger and Frustration That’s Why You were distracted Jake is the AWAKENED PRINCE the One with The Most Impossible and Extremely Dangerous Abilities and powers
Chloe: How the Fock is he that strong he was like his Twin Brother when he was 18
Medic: He was Young Chloe Now he’s a Prince both brothers are Princes Nick Kostrel and Jake Kostrel
Chloe: Yeah But How did he become This Strong??
Medic: Guardian Evolution it’s a Really Stupid Event The Guardian must be in a deep sleep for The Calculated Time Angelic 6 to 10 hours Demonic 8 to 16 hours and Etc, Jake was asleep for almost a Year until his Lovers Helped him out and Made a Deal now he has a Boyfriend and a Fiancée
Chloe: Fock…
Medic: Jake Can Battle or fight a Blackhole called PHOENIX or TON 618 for almost 2 months or a month without getting tired, Both Blackholes Has Armies of Multiverse Destructive Strength! The Armies are 50x Bigger height and Size than a Titan!
Chloe: …What about Telekinesis?
Medic: Jake Has Immunities and Has an Incredible Healing Telekinesis can’t do anything and if you’re talking about the Destructive Telekinesis then it won’t be effective, Time Doesn’t have effect on him either, Stars would explode if Jake was Thrown pushed into one and Survive, Blackholes Will Just explode as well because Jake can and always can destroy it, Anything that is Outside the Guardian Universe Will not effect Jake!
Chloe: So He’s the New King?
Medic: Close but He’s Getting there
Chloe: Hmm Is there Room for another in his Harem?
Medic: Wait a Minute Don’t tell me that you’re going Join his Harem of Mares and Ladies from different Universes are you?
Chloe: Yeah? Why not?
Medic: Well If you’re then you’re going to need Permission from Jake’s Queen Lover to Kiss or Cuddle Jake which is going to be Hard
Chloe: I’ll Try but In time
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