#i love jett he deserves good things

[miss-squishy]

finally drew jett

i learned how to draw men for him really

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 7.5k

chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name

There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.

This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.

Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.

This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.

As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.

“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.

“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.

“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.

“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.

“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.

Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.

If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.

They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.

And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.

Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.

He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.

Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.

“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.

Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.

Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.

“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”

“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”

“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”

Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”

“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”

“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”

“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”

“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”

“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”

You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.

Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.

“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”

“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”

“Fine, I—”

“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.

“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.

In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.

There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”

You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.

“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”

Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”

“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.

“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”

“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.

Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.

It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”

It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.

You and Jungkook had been broken up for almost two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was over two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.

You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.

And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).

You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.

“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”

Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.

You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.

“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.

Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”

“Okay. Who else?”

“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”

The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.

“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”

“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice—both Sid and Jude worked for their families, which really meant that they got paid to occasionally show up at the shareholders’ meetings on behalf of their parents. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”

“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”

He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”

“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”

“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”

“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And some nights in London, depending on our flight time,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”

None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.

Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.

You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).

Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.

“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”

“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”

You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.

“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”

Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.

You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.

Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.

When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.

He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.

The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.

He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.

“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”

Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.

The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.

It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.

Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”

He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.

He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.

Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.

Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.

“Look who—”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”

“I don’t hear running water.”

He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I can drive myself—”

“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”

He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”

“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”

“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”

“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”

“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”

“Hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.

Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.

His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.

He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.

“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”

Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.

As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.

He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.

He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.

“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”

“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”

“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.

“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”

Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.

By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.

And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.

Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.

Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.

Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.

However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.

And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.

You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.

Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.

“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.

“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.

“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”

You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.

“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.

His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.

“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”

His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”

“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”

He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”

You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”

“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”

“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”

You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.

Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.

“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”

He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”

“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.

“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”

He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.

You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.

Maybe he really would be fine tonight.

And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.

“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.

“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”

“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”

Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.

And there was nothing he’d tell them now.

It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.

“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”

Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.

“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”

Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.

“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.

“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”

Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.

Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”

“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”

Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.

“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”

“I don’t have a crush—”

Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”

Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why—why would I even—why—”

“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”

“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”

“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.

“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.

“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.

“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”

“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”

“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”

“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”

“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”

Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.

“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”

“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.

Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.

He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.

“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”

That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.

“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”

“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”

There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.

This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”

Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”

He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.

“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.

“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.

“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”

Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.

“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”

“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”

In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.

“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”

Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.

Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.

“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”

chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”

special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜

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[lilmoonbunny]

He loves hates you; Yoru x Reader

Yoru claims he hates you, so why do you still love him?

Warnings: Yoru is mean, mention of being hurt by a partner

You and Yoru were once friends, but something changed one day, and he decided that he hated you. You had no idea what had happened or what you had done, but he seemingly hated you and wouldn’t tell you why.

Little did you know, he didn’t actually hate you. Yoru had realised that he had developed feelings for you and was terrified so he decided to push you away so he wouldn’t get hurt.

The two of you went from talking every day to him glaring at you every time he saw you. In his mind, he had to make it realistic, no matter how much your sad face hurt him.

However, even when you two weren’t talking, the feelings he harboured for you never faded, much to his dismay. It was annoying him; the urge to always protect you when you two were working together had him watching you more than the enemies and unable to properly focus; he didn’t even want to rift-walk in case you got hurt.

Despite having harshly cut you off, Yoru couldn’t help but feel extremely hurt when you got a boyfriend.

He was some civilian or something, he didn’t want care enough to find out.

No, he didn’t listen to Phoenix and Jett talk about it whilst pretending to be annoyed, what are you talking about!?

He hated your boyfriend with a fiery passion. He wasn’t good enough for you, you deserved better. You deserve him, but he doesn’t deserve you, at least in his mind.

Yoru’s ‘hatred’ for you only grew worse since you got a boyfriend, leaving you even more confused and very hurt. You started to hate him too.

You hated his sudden feeling change, how he treated you, how he abandoned you just as you were going to confess to him… You hated him!!!!

So why did you end up in front of him after being beat up by your ex-boyfriend…?

“Who did this to you!?” You could see Yoru’s rage, no matter how hard he tried to appear calm. Naturally, you assumed it was because you had come to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go.” You sobbed.

He stood there with clenched fists, ready to kill whoever hurt you.

No, there’s something more important first. Someone more important. He thought and opened his door.

Wordlessly, you entered, and he told you to sit down whilst he went to grab some things to help clean your wounds.

“This is going to hurt.” He said before beginning to clean your wounds.

You two sat in silence for a while, only your occasional winces (which hurt him more than he’d like to admit) being heard.

“Ryo?” You broke the silence.

He tensed at the use of his real name. He missed hearing you say it…

“What?” Whilst he sounded blunt, he was genuinely curious what you had to say.

“Why do you hate me?”

That hurt him, yet he sighed, ignoring the question.

“Please tell me what I did wrong.” You whispered, tears falling down your cheeks.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me anymore? Why do you treat me like dirt?”

Yoru dropped the equipment he was using.

“Because I love you, okay!? Are you happy now?” He snapped, immediately regretting speaking the moment he realised what he had said. “Forget it. You should go, I’m done.”

You were frozen in place as he tossed the cleaning rags in the trash.

It took a few moments for his words to sink in, but the moment they did, you immediately grabbed his hand and spun him to face you. Was he blushing…?

“I said forget it,” his words were supposed to be aggressive, but they just sounded sad…

“I love you too, Ryo. I always have.” Your words had his eyes widening.

“But why? Even after everything I did to you?”

You nodded.

“You really are an idiot,” he said, yet there was no malice behind his words, especially when there was the tiniest smile on his lips.

“Only for you,”

Yoru simply shook his head.

“Well, I suppose you could be my idiot. If you want that is?

[honestlywtf04]

𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐲

warning: lap dance, lots of teasing, twerking, some nsfw content, 🎶 vinnie gets a boner 🎶

summary: he didn't expect you to be at his bachelor party, but he definitely didn't expect the gift you gave to him.

author's note: i have never written a lap dance, the last time i did, it was horrendous. so please bear with me. ignore any mistakes.

"vinnie! we got something for you! close your eyes and sit down in this chair!" you hear jett yell at your fiancée from the bathroom. he doesn't know that you're here at his bachelor party, he thinks that you're at home with your friends or maybe sleeping.

your bachelorette party happened a week ago, he and his friends planned his own bachelor party today. his friends' original plan was to get him a bunch of strippers but then they simultaneously realized that it would be too much since they would have to pay a lot of money and the last time they did it to someone... it didn't turn out as planned, long story short he was pissed.

so jack called you and asked if you were willing to surprise him and give him a lap dance at his party in front of all the people. you were hesitant but vinnie was and is a great boyfriend and now fiancée, so he deserved a little more than what he typically gets.

now he is sitting in a chair, in the middle of a crowd blindfolded and doesn't know what's going happen. he's terrified and a little excited. the only thing circling his mind is 'did they get me my own taco truck'.

someone knocks on your door and you immediately walk out to see jack. "you ready?" he asks you and you simply nod. you take one last look in the mirror to make sure your outfit looks good. "excited and ready," you step out and jack takes your hand, leading you towards the man that is currently sitting down biting his lip anxiously with a blindfold covering his eyes.

"alright! everyone listen up. let's take a moment to clap for our friend vinnie here who is probably wondering why he is blindfolded," jett says into the microphone and not too long after everyone starts cheering and whistling.

"so vinnie- or should i say vincent, we managed to get you something you will probably like, just a little," people start laughing and vinnie does the middle finger not knowing where jett is at.

jack grabs your hand and has you stand directly in front of your fiancée. "alright enough stalling, vinnie take off your blindfold."

when he removes his blindfold, the first thing he sees is his beautiful fiancée wearing one of his favorite sets of lingerie that he loves on you. you watch his eyebrows raise and his cheeks turning a little rosy. you place your hand on your hip and raise your eyebrow, teasing him. his eyes scanning every inch of your body.

jett walks over to him and puts the microphone in front of vinnie. "i- um, wow."

"happy bachelor party vincent! now sit there, and enjoy," jett says and not long after, the DJ starts playing "Pony - Ginuwine."

you step closer to him and spread his legs, putting your foot right in front of his crotch, ignoring the cheers from the crowd behind you. you touch your ankle and start traveling it upwards, stopping once you reach your upper thigh.

you sit down on his lap and start to grind on him, making direct eye contact with him. he places his hands on your hips but you quickly move them away hearing people going "ooooh."

you stand up and walk behind his chair, moving your hand down, above his bulge and start moving it up very slowly. when you reach his chest, you feel his heart beating fast which causes you to smirk. and grab his head and force him to look up at you. as you lean down, his eyes stay on your face and anxiously waits for your lips to touch his but you move away and sit yourself on his lap, your back facing him.

you lean down to touch your heels feeling his eyes on your ass. you turn back around and decide to be a little risky so you place your area directly on his bulge seeing his eyes slightly widen and look down to where you are both touching intimately. you begin to move your hips to the rhythm of the song hearing him breathing heavily. you move your breasts closer to his face feeling his hot breath hitting them.

"y/n," he whispers but you ignore him and continue your sexual movements. "i don't want them to see my boner," he quietly mumbles which makes you grind even harder on him. you grab his chin making eye contact with him. he looks down at your lips with his mouth open. you pull his bottom lip down with your thumb and stand up, seeing his confused expression. you watch one of his friends give him a stack of what you believe is one-dollar bills.

vinnie looks confused until he sees you bend down a bit and start to shake your ass. you hear many people start to cheer and applaud. soon you start hearing the man behind you start to laugh and throw the money on you.

the song ends and you finish what you were doing. you hear him stand up and touch your waist with his hands not caring about the people watching.

you turn around and push vinnie back down on the chair. he looks at me amused and almost proud. you lean down, grab his jaw and give him a very long kiss.

"upstairs, 10 minutes, third door on the right, and i'll take care of you, that's my real gift," you whisper seductively in his ear and not so sneakily trail my hand down to his bulge before walking upstairs.

[magniloquent-raven]

Billy and El's relationship headcanons?

Yessss!! Always more than happy to talk about these two

I love El just kind of deciding that her and Billy are friends now. Billy gets no say in the matter.

She spends a lot of her time after Starcourt hanging out in his hospital room. Like, sitting in the corner quietly reading or practising her penmanship, anything that'll keep her occupied while Billy lays there and pretends to watch whatever's on TV. They don't really talk much. So Billy kind of figures Max put her up to this, keeping an eye on him. Or she's doing it out of some kind of obligation because he sort of saved her life.

The reality of it is that she doesn't feel quite at home living with the Byers yet, so she's finding any excuse to be elsewhere. And it just so happens that she wants to keep Billy company. It's a win-win.

When Billy gets out he figures he won't see her anymore. She's got her nerds to hang out with, she doesn't need to waste any more time on him now that everyone's pretty sure he's not gonna die.

Except the day after he moves into the tiny little apartment that some government stooge picked out for him, El shows up at his door with a gift bag in hand (Joyce introduced her to the concept of a housewarming present, and she was very excited about trying it out). It's already weird enough being on his own, trying to figure out how to live in his own space while he's relearning how to use his own body. He's navigating a lot of uncertainty, and then this kid comes along and he doesn't understand this either. It's a lot. He's going through a lot.

So he's a little too blunt when the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She doesn't seem to notice the tone. Doesn't care that he's being rude. She just holds up the bag and smiles. "Making your house warm." She explains in careful, clipped sentences, that Joyce told her it's a thing friends do. That's the only part he really hears. Friends.

When he stepped between her and the Mind Flayer he didn't expect to get a friend out of it. He didn't expect anything but the pain that followed. The blood. The plan was to be a temporary shield for someone who deserved to live more than he did. He did his job. Max has never thanked him for it, why should anyone else.

He's not sure why her declaration makes his eyes well up. He doesn't really want to think about it that hard, if he's perfectly honest. It's awkward enough trying to blink away tears while some kid he barely knows intently watches him pull wads of tissue paper off a lumpy pile of...blanket? There's a fuzzy green throw blanket at the bottom of the bag, and he's not sure if that's going to make him laugh or cry some more.

By the time Mrs. Byers shows up that evening, he's feeling a little less emotionally unstable. A little. She spent the day helping him shelve all the books he never bothered unpacking after Neil moved them to Indiana. Every so often she'd ask what one was about, and always with refreshingly unbiased curiosity, never why do you have that or I wouldn't have expected you read something like this.

He knows a little about where she's from, memories the Mind Flayer left behind, impressions and echoes. He knows enough to understand why she is the way she is.

It occurs to him after she leaves that she knows just as much, if not more about him. The realization gives him vertigo, the bottom of his stomach dropping away. But despite that, he wonders if it's a good thing. They don't have to explain themselves to each other, they can just. Be friends. Might be nice.

bonus tidbits:

Billy lets El have a beer one time and she deeply regrets asking for one, because it's gross. She has to use his mouthwash twice and she's still making disgusted faces about it like an hour later

El's canon habit of dressing like people she spends a lot of time with. She hangs out with Billy for like two months and ends up getting a Joan Jett rocker shag. She steals a jean jacket from Jonathan. She likes his earring but when he tells her how ear piercing works she gets really upset because needles scare her. So he buys her some clip-ons

Max hates how much time they spend together, at first. She's jealous that they're so close. Both of them are people she's really wanted to like her but initially rejected her, and now they're just automatically each other's BFFs? How is that fair? But it's hard to stay angry when Billy seems so much happier nowadays, and she knows El has trouble making friends

It takes Billy a long time to get comfortable around Joyce. When she comes by to pick El up she's always so friendly and. Mom-like. One time she gave him a little pat on the shoulder and said she hopes he's doing okay all alone up here, before she left with El, and he spent the next ten minutes sitting on the floor in tears

Personally, I've always HCd El as a lesbian, I just think it would take her SO much to actually figure it out, because her relationship with Mike is kind of the first thing she latched onto after leaving the lab, so it would be hard to come to terms with what that attachment really is. But I like toying with the idea of her being introduced to the idea of what queerness even is via Billy's memories. She's scared to bring it up for a long time, it was something she only saw because he had so many memories of being made to feel bad about it, she doesn't quite understand all the shame and the anger, but it makes the idea of being gay scary. After she looked into Billy's memories she started to notice the things people say in real life, the attitudes they have, now that she's got context for what that kind of stuff means. And she doesn't know who to talk to about it other than Billy. Which would not go well at first, because it's Billy. But after they talk it out he'd be soooo much more protective of her, like. Insisting on driving her any time she wants to go somewhere, glowering at literally everybody who looks at her funny. Kinda hovering around waiting for there to be someone to beat the shit out of for her.

El being made aware of queerness being a thing might make her more likely to notice Will's gay too tbh, and then she'd be super protective of him. El ends up at Billy's place super agitated one day and ends up telling Billy the things she heard people saying about Will, and Billy's like, oh, well. I may have to run some kids over, okay.

[clovermarigold]

Late Night Snack pt.2

Gekko, Skye, Chamber x Reader

Series masterlist - Pt.1

Somewhat of a prequal for most of the pairings.

Thank you to @rowanyte for requesting this sequel.

*Disclaimer* alcohol

as someone who doesn't drink by choice, just imagine I understood anything I wrote.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gekko- Doritos

10... 10 to fucking 0. How? How was that even possible. You were the one to introduce him to this game. You spent more time learning all of its characters than you did outside. How the hell did he manage to beat you ten times!

"I think it's official, Angel. I'm better than you at every game we own" you turned sharply to glare at him, "Absolutely not! Rematch".

"Yeah, it's like three in the morning, I'll pass" he said turning off his controller and standing to stretch. "Oh, ok. No that makes sense... So, I guess that means I win" you mutter just loud enough for him to make out, "What was that?", the corners of your lips turning up.

"Oh nothing, it's just that it sounds like you're forfeiting" He groaned looking at the roof, "Please don't do your whole super competitive thing now ".

"Hey!" you bristle at the unsavory accusation, "We don't have to do anything besides going to bed and cuddling.... if you admit you're giving up" he rubbed a hand down his face.

A sinister giggle left you as you watched him flop down into is spot on the couch. "You're grabbing snacks!" a fair enough deal if it meant you had your chance at revenge.

You were quick to run to the kitchen and raid the pantry. It was a good thing some of the other agents had gone shopping recently, they wouldn't mind you 'borrowing' some, surely!

Skye's kale chips? Gross. Neon's energy drinks? Would be perfect if you and Matteo actually liked energy drinks. Jett's tteobokki? Eh, you were looking for something that was ready to go. Oh! There it is!

"I got the goods!" you held up the bag of Doritos, no doubt phoenix's. To your surprise he didn't react. "Geks?" walking around to the front of the couch you were met with your boyfriend who was passed out, head resting on his hand.

Gently, you take your spot next to him, curling into his side, carefully pressing on his arm. "We still playing?" he stirred, drowsiness apparent. "No. we can go to bed" you smile lightly. "hmm... You sure?".

"Yeah. I'm sure" As much as you loved winning, it wasn't worth it if he would be stuck suffering sleep deprivation. His hand wrapped around yours, rubbing light circles on your palm, "Thanks."

The sweet moment, however, was completely destroyed when he decided to open his stupid mouth. "Got it. You forfeit. I win" this little shit!

Apparently, your face must have been as shocked and irritated as you felt, because he broke out laughing. "You asshole! You weren't even sleeping!" he made a move to grab the bag of chips from you.

"uh uh! Doritos are for good boyfriends who don't pull shit like this!" you pulled the bag away, knocking him on his arm. "Hey, tranquilo!".

You stood, "I am going to give these to someone who deserves them! Wings!!!!".

He lunged at you, lifting you in the air, "Gimme the bag and I'll put you down". "Gek- Matteo! Put me down" the both of you froze when the door slammed open.

"It is 3 in the damn morning" Brimstone.... parties over. "Go to bed. Now" abruptly he put you down, the two of you marching to your rooms under Brim's watchful eye, making sure you actually went to bed.

"well that was embarrassing" you said, flopping onto your bed. A notification went off on your phone

Geks <3 : So I won right?

This man

Skye- Fruit Salad

43 minutes, you had cut down your run time by 7 minutes. It wasn't quite your goal, but it was progress. you usually preferred to do your morning run at around 5. But you had a mission briefing at 6:30. A 4 o'clock run wasn't too terrible.

Damn you were tired, hungry too. taking out your earbuds and resting your phone on the table and walking over to the fridge.

Pork Cutlet? Too heavy, besides, heating it up would stink up the kitchen with pork. The last thing you needed was to wake someone up. You had already been yelled at by viper for interrupting her during your workout.

Adobo was immediately out of the question. Neon was scary when it came to people eating her food. Gekko had eaten it once when it was in an unmarked container, labeling it up for grabs....

Not even wingman could save him

"Pesto? No. Curry? Nice, but I'm not in the mood for spicy. Aha, there we go" reaching into the back, you found your prize. You had honestly thought someone would have eaten it by now.

Your perfect way to start the day. A nice cold, untouched fruit salad. Mind you, it did have more melons than you'd liked, but it was to be expected. Had to cut down on the price somehow.

"Bugger. I was looking forward to that" a familiar voice came from behind you. You turned, holding the bowl in one hand, and a single, half bitten strawberry in the other.

"Good morning, Skye" you took in her appearance, she was dressed in sportswear, and she had an arm band holding her music player firm to her arm, "You going on a run?".

"Yeah, Brims got another thing coming if he thinks I'm skipping my run for a brief on a mission two days from now" she reached over, grabbing a grape from the bowl in your hand.

"A little late to ask, but did you want to share?"

"All right" she says smiling as she popped another grape into her mouth. You felt your knees wobble a little. For a moment you actually take in her appearance. Her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat, cheeks still rosy from exercise, biceps taut, and teeth practically blinding you.

"Looking good, mate! Nice to see some people here exercise in their free time" oh shit, was she checking you out too? No! You were gross and sweaty. Hell, probably pink in the face from exercise... and other reasons. Oh, you were not gonna last long this close to her before you made a fool of yourself.

It's not your fault, she's just too cool. Ripped, clever, sharp tongued, and an absolute tank on the field.

"You can have the rest!" you wince at how stupid you sound. Great going idiot, now she thinks you're weird...er?

carefully (and fully aware of your embarrassed blunder) Skye pulls the bowl from your hand with a laugh, "Cheers, love". She gives you a nod and exits the kitchen.

she called you love

Chamber- Wine

You swear sometimes the thought that your job wasn't worth all the paperwork was truer than you would like to admit. Reyna may be the sword and face of the sanctuary but in reality, it would not be able to function without you.

After all, managing to make people disappear from one of the most powerful companies in the world, as well as balancing defending the earth from multiverse invaders was no easy task.

But you suppose being able to help protect your fellow Radiants was more than worth the grueling hours of organizing fake passports and ids as well as schedule meetings with possible sponsors of.... less than legal repertoires.

Such was tonight, another headache alone in your office. Reyna may be ecstatic at the increasing number of radiants surfacing, but you weren't. Damn you needed a drink.

A knock catches you off guard as you reach for a new stack of papers you were loath to sort through.

"Ah, it seems I have caught you at a bad time" shit. Right, you had a meeting. God, why did you even think to schedule him this late? And how did he look so calm and well rested?

"No, no, take a seat. I always have time for the sanctuary's number one donor" you plastered on your business chic facade. It was the reason you handled people instead of Reyna. You understood people, altering your facade to fit whoever you did business with.

Chamber was a special case, a break from the usual ass kissing and baby doll voice face you would force yourself to do with other sponsors.

Chamber's facade was tailored differently, teasing but not outright flirting, sarcastic in the way two gossiping women would be, and a hint of theatrics. Easily one of your favorites. It felt more like a game than business when you worked together.

"You seem energetic, Monsieur Fabron" a small chuckle leaves him as he takes a seat across your desk. "I slept on the plane; Jet lag can be so inconvenient ".

"Ah, your trip, I nearly forgot" a lie, no doubt one he could tell, but work is so boring without play. "But of course, lionne. A truly wonderful experience, though not one to beat my time with you" you gasp in mock flattery.

Pausing momentarily before laying a tall silvery bag on the desk, Chamber looked at you expectantly, "A gift".

for a fraction of a second your facade dropped, intrigued by the pristine and obviously expensive gift laid out by your guest. Before promptly putting on your teasing smile reaching into the bag, "Chamber, you spoil me".

"But of course, what are friends for" looking into the silvery packaging and secondary protection you swear you could cry. "You do still prefer your wines sweet, correct?" you take back any regret you had for scheduling this meeting, alcoholism for the win!

"I doubt anything could be as sweet as you, my friend" he huffed a laugh as you poured the both of you a glass. "To friends" he offered, holding out his glass. With a smirk you knocked yours against his.

God your job was worth it

[seneitut]

Seasons

[Autumn] [Winter] [Spring] [Summer]

[Yoru/Reader] [Gekko/Reader]

Words: 1.5K

Tags: Sadness, cheating, hurt/no comfort (Only first part...maybe), breaking-up, self-hate, poor self-esteem, background ships.

Autumn

[Youth - Daughter]

When the first leaves of autumn lose all their lively greenish color and are set to disguise themselves to a reddish hue, as if touched by fire or the early dawn of a morning enveloping them in a warm tone, is when you realize that your lover has been unfaithful to you.

It was painful, to say the least, that it almost felt like a joke. 

That something so precious will never belong to you anymore and despair is the only answer for dealing with the loss.

Because not even bidding your last words of affection to someone who didn't want to hear from you, nor have you in his sights anymore, was enough to fill that empty void eating you from the inside.

It was hard to navigate through these unknown waters being as inexperienced as you were when it comes to love— confused and hurt when neglected, fulfilled when he spared you a moment of his day.

And to acknowledge he doesn’t want you after you confronted him, as if it was your fault instead of his that led him to take these actions that pained you, it was devastating and unavoidable. Eating every spiteful word of his when you approached for the last time to figure things out and ask why? Why did he do it?

I don’t have to explain things, he had said. He pitied you, but not even then did he consider answering your pleading question, because he believed he didn't owe you the bare minimum as an explanation.

Letting him go would be the most reasonable decision to take, but the idea of begging him to stay was stronger than your sadness, willing yourself to be humiliated if that meant he wasn't going to leave and might give you a chance to meddle in his decision of abandonment—and if it weren't for Jett, the one who figured your intentions and knocked some sense into your head, you might have done it with no regrets.

Completely furious and blinded by rage, she snapped at you with no regards to your fragile emotions, questioning your judgment throughout the break-up and challenging you whether you were able to take care of yourself or not, whether you were thinking with your head or were you just stupid for going after a boy who never deserved you.

It all came from a good place. 

Within her heart, Jett cares so much about your well-being that seeing you kneel in front of her— asking if you were a little more loving to him, if only you could've pleased him more, or maybe be able to be in his league, would he have stayed by your side and not search for whatever you were lacking in someone else—your broken expression set something ugly and dark in her heart that Jett couldn't help but burst it all on you.

“Why can't you see your worth?!” She screamed, shaking you by your shoulders. “Has he plummeted your self-esteem to the depths so badly that this is your conclusion? Are you stupid?!”

Misdirected anger, since Jett wanted to murder him for making you go through this, not hurt you further with her words.

For when she realized what she had said, an apology flew from her mouth, avoiding your sad eyes and crumbling form in front of her, before leaving to chastise herself for being too absorbed in her negative emotion instead of helping you out with this situation. 

Although you wished she had stayed, you understood Jett might have not been in her best moment to support you.

This was not about you two, after all, and a chat might take place in the future to fix things between friends, but for now, you both needed to cool off.

Just thinking about how Jett would have reacted if she were the one to witness what you did gives you the chills. 

But Phoenix was there when you found out.

He was on a walk when you encountered him by chance. And eager as ever, the man offered his company on this warm day out while you chatted softly about nothing in particular.

You've always liked his energy and character: playful, kind, and a teaser to the core. Is no wonder Jett and him get along so well, despite the many flirtatious words directed at each other, their dynamic is something you have always been envious of, if not a little greedy to have it for yourself.

Perhaps you will have it in the future, who knows? There is always faith that your relationship might go another route and things might change for the better and just like you always dreamed of.

It was a naive thought, you think from back then, sharing this tidbit of information with Phoenix. 

He was always encouraging of your relationship, despite having his doubts about his friend being capable of love. But Phoenix never let those thoughts known because he knew how smitten you were, unable to break that bubble of yours and hopeful for an improvement from his friend's part.

Until you both saw him.

Between the yards and yards of space, trees surrounding every corner and the ray of sunlight filtering through gaps in the foliage; who could've thought this is where you would meet your demise—

as if watching it through a sepia film the moment that shattered you completely.

Is not like there was a kiss or anything of the sort, although you think if you were a little more late, something else might have happened.

But the scene in front of you was enough of a telltale— the way he orbited around that woman, smiling and teasing, was not something you would see often on him when it comes to you. 

In his hand was a single yellow flower, from the distance you couldn't make out what kind it was, but the intention was clear. 

He leaned in, tucking the object with tenderness in her ear, and caressing her cheek with the soft touch of his fingertips and angling her face closer to his.

The woman huffs in amusement, taking his hand between hers and kissing the open palm with affection before leaning her head on his hand. 

There were no words needed to understand what was going on there nor critical thinking to guess that he holds a deep affection towards the woman just like she does to him. The resemblance to what a perfect couple would look like shatters you into a million pieces—, their colors melting together in a harmonious painting you couldn't help the burning jealousy burning you from the inside.

Phoenix was the one who shouted in disbelief, throwing an arm in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever was unfolding in front of your eyes, and made intentions to confront him now that he has been caught.

Nauseous and anxiousness were eating you alive, worsening when the couple turned around, startled, and both took distance from each other in guilt when they realized they were being watched.

You wonder: if he were to explain that you misread the situation, would you have believed him? God, you would have let this go the instant he tells you to forget it because that's how much trust and blind love you have for him.

But the avoidance from both of them, not even looking you in the eyes nor explaining themselves was enough to overwhelm you with sadness.

By then you couldn't hold back the tears and turned around to escape from the scene, having Phoenix run after you in a wild chase to make sure you were okay.

It's sad to say you bonded deeply with Phoenix when the break-up happened; but you were grateful for his presence when you needed it the most.

He was the one to hold you tightly and help the tears flow endlessly like a broken dam, flooding your room with painful sobs and staggering hiccups while his hands caressed your hair and gave you gentle squeezes on the shoulder to ground you with him.

Phoenix has experienced this kind of situation before, knows how hurt you must feel and how hard it is to see your lover with someone who you considered a friend before— now the labels are all twisted because, what should one act like from now on?

“He will face consequences if you want.” Phoenix whispered. His hugs were warm and soothing, expected from someone who carries a flame within them and is a spark of joy in anyone's life.

Although, right now, his fire wants to burn the sole person who dared to betray your trust like this.

“I don't want to talk about this anymore.” was your reply. And while Phoenix understood where you were coming from, he didn't agree wholeheartedly with the decision, but decided to honor your wishes.

Because despite everything, there is still the same affection and undying love you had since day one for him. 

Despite everything, you still held love for Kiritani Ryo.

[kayssweetdreams]

A "Perfect" Vacation Ch 45

The next evening, The island was preparing for another publicity stunt, only this time, It wasn't the equivalent of a hostile takeover. The Flora Tropica had been arranged so that the beauty of the flower could be admired by everyone. The various employees that worked for Ka Lā (and had been unfortunately been tested on by her) were also around to enjoy the festivities.

Thea smiled as she reappeared on stage, this time, a real smile on her face as she stepped out in front of the crowd "I'd like to dedicate this song to my closest friends and family. Including My dearest friend, Ka Lā, without her...I'm not sure any of us would be here today. As well as my family, that I love more than life itself." She said, her eyes gazing at Ka Lā and the rest of the Bruno family, happy to see Thea ready to sing.

The woman then nodded to the band as they began play for her. Thea then began to sing her heart out for her crowd, the infectious music enough to make everyone begin to dance to the beat. Jett was seen bobbing his head to the music, as Phil and Lila had dragged him over to dance with them, Iben and John. Jett smiled as he began dancing, while Skarlett, Ivy, Piper, Maxie and Lizz joined them.

Lora meanwhile, had been talking with Sana and Yuri, of which she thought it was super brave (and VERY satisfying to see Prim get what she deserved.) And helping her snap out of the drug's effects...again. She smiled as she gave a crazed look to...let's just say something REALLY painful to Prim should she try doing it again, as Aria was talking to the maestros to see if Prim really WAS locked away this time.

Balan snapped his fingers as a comically large telescope appeared. He adjusted it so it could clearly see Timeville Asylum. Lo and Behold, the now docile headmistress was locked away in maximum security. Ensuring that this time NO ONE could get her out. Balan smiled "Good news Aria dear. Prim will never be coming here. She is now permanently locked away. Never to see the light of day." He said, giving Aria the telescope so that she could see out into the distance.

Kaylo meanwhile, was looking down at the crowd, her mind still thinking about what had happened. Right before she was fully under Prim's drug, she could faintly remember hearing the old hag talking to someone, but her mind kept fading in and out, which made it hard to understand the voice, or what they were talking about. "Hey Kaylo? You OK?" She heard Mei ask, as she and the others had found looking over a balcony.

"Um...Yeah. I'm OK." She lied, making Trisha Jane see right through her "Kaylo, you're lying right now. Your hair frizzes up when you think too hard." She pointed out. Kaylo sighed. "OK. Fine. There was something that I didn't tell anyone else...I don't think Prim was working alone." She said. "We know that though, there's no way she could have Whipped up that drug on her own." Rebecca pointed out. "No...I mean, I might have actually heard and SEEN who was working with her...but I was under the drug, so everything was blurry and hard to hear." She said.

This got everyone's attention. "Was there anything you heard clearly?" Emma asked. "One thing...And I could be wrong, but it sounded like something called 'Project X' or something." She said. "Project...X?" Leo asked, the name itself sounding like a bad thing. "Yep...But that's about it." Kaylo said, frowning at the idea that this wasn't something to be messed with.

"Well...whatever it is, we'll face it together." Mei says, a determined look on her face. The others joined her determination as they decided to join back with the party. Kaylo joined them...but she couldn't shake the feeling that there were going up against something BIG...

Meanwhile, Somewhere Far Away From the Island...

A figure sits down in a chair, a small USB file that read "Backup Security Cameras" in their hands. They plugged it in as the security feed from the island was seen, this footage not tampered by Maxie or Jett. They scrolled through the footage as they saw the inhabitants gathering the various ingredients, and how they hijacked the false performance, with the antidote.

However, what caught their eyes the most was the very strange boat named the "S.S. Wonder" sitting out in the sea, along with the two strange figures that accompanied the group of the undrugged children, and that Montgomery woman. Their eyes lit up as they saw what the maestros could do. Removing their sunglasses again, they symbols in their eyes were seen to be glowing.

"Well Well...After years of searching. I finally found it." They said, before grazing what looked to be some kind of mural detailing the two figures, shaking hands with a pink haired woman holding a book. "Project X will be completed. Now that I have actual proof." They said, a glowing red ball of magic seen forming in their hands...

The End!(?)

Mei and the Hualing Family, Phil, John and Lila belong to @sundove88

Rebecca and the Reynolds belong to @thehypercutstudios/@thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane and the Postrados belong to @lovelyteng

Aria belongs to @shadowqueen402

Lora Jade belongs to @alex-frostwalker

Jett, Skarlett, Lizz, Ivy, Piper and Maxie belong to @jettthespeeddemon

[timaeusterrored]

(The Golden Cross)

Kerry lit his cigarette and looked over at Venus, who was stretched out like the Goddess Venus herself. The morning sun hit him just right, the blankets around his hips, Vax’s arm over his waist. It was unfair to have two beautiful people in his bed like this.

But the thing that really caught Kerry’s eye was the golden cross around Venus’s neck. They never talked about religion, Venus certainly did not go to church. But it still had him curious, a cross symbolic of Christianity, but a name of a Roman Goddess-or the planet, or the plant. God why were there so many things named Venus?

The one thing about Venus that was more on the creepy side though was the fact that both his eyes were all black, two endless voids. He used to have brown eyes apparently, in the baby pictures he saw.

“Like what ya see?” Venus’s accent was thick in the morning, a mix of his Louisiana draw and whatever abomination was Night City’s accent. It made for some very fun conversations with him.

“I do.” They spoke quietly, as to not wake the exhausted fixed behind Venus. Vax deserved his rest, especially after yesterday. “Curious ‘bout something though.”

Venus rubbed his eyes, shifting a bit so Vax could snuggle into his chest. How was the most dangerous man in Night City the cutest fucking thing Kerry had ever seen?

“Your cross. What’s that about? Fashion or you secretly religious and I’ve been disrespecting someone for a bit.” What? Kerry likes holding it between his teeth when he fucked Venus.

“Mmmmm… both.” He had not been expecting that. “I’m by no means religious… haven’t been for years. But my mama was. Religion is a sticky subject in our family… this is Jett’s cross though, his grandmother was religious.” Something else Kerry noticed is when speaking of Jett, Venus always talked about him in the present tense. But he understood, he did the same with Johnny for years.

“Was it hard?”

“Yeah… but my mama died before I came out so I think I dodged a bullet. Not that nomads have a church or anything, but that woman prayed before every meal, before bed, every trip we took… always had her Bible too.”

Kerry nodded and blew the smoke out away from his partners, looking out over the city.

“What about you? You ever have religious family?” Venus asked, making Kerry look over again, then nod. He never talked about his own history.

“Mom was a devout Christian… dad was too greedy and drunk to really give a fuck. He fucked off to I don’t know where, maybe back to the Philippines. Never saw him after I left. She was never the type to force it on us though, as long as we were happy, she didn’t care… she knew I was bi before I did, apparently when I was a kid, I talked about boys and girls the same. She was a great woman in some ways…” He missed his mother. She was long dead now, died when he was 16, after he had already moved in with Johnny. That was the year he went off to work on the cruise to get away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ramble-“ When he looked over, Vax’s eyes were open and watching him. Both had the same look on their faces.

“I would have loved to meet her.” Vax whispered.

“You’re a few decades too late, sweetheart. Most of my family is dead anyway, my youngest sister is probably alive? Dunno.” Kerry shrugged.

He and Venus shared a look, a look of familiarity. In some ways, Venus reminded him a lot of himself, he didn’t know if he loved or hated it.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee. Good chat.” He kissed his lovers before pondering why the fuck he just said ‘good chat’ to his input of two years now. He hadn’t meant for the conversation to go the way it did. He didn’t want to talk about his family, he had wanted to talk about Venus.

[starlight-phantom]

So excited to see someone else play Project: Eden's Garden! It's an amazing fan project and deserves all the love! There any characters you like yet? Any suspicions? Any ideas on who'll live or die?

I know, right?! I was honestly so impressed by it and funnily enough, I saw some videos about it when the prologue was first released and I honestly thought it was a new Danganronpa game made by Kodaka because all the art looked so official. Then I found out it was fanmade and just wow, kudos to everyone working on it, they're making something amazing.

Yes, there are some characters I already love like Toshiko because she's so dang adorable and I love how her personality is just perfectly '14 year old trying their best to appear more mature in front of their older peers but not fooling anyone' also the fact that they managed to draw all those different poses for her sprites and still keep her mouth hidden in all of them is really impressive.

I love Jett because he honestly just has the energy of an excitable dog (especially since he seems to be paired with Mark who has the energy of a tired cat who just wants to be left alone) and he's a joy to talk to, also he does the Scooby Doo laugh for some reason??? But going off the games I've played... I don't think his chances of surviving are good...

And I honestly don't understand why... But I really, really love Kai. Like, okay, his design is lovely, but like... He's kinda a pathetic wet cat of a man but he's also an influencer who sics his fans onto people he doesn't like... So I don't understand why I love him so much. I love him and I hate the fact that I love him but goddammit I love him. Although, while I do really like him, I do not trust him in the slightest, he is suspicious as hell.

I don't really know if I have any suspicions yet since this is just the prologue so far so we only know the basics... But like I said, I don't trust Kai and I think Jett will probably die at some point. I'm not entirely sure why but I find Diana a little suspicious... Maybe it's because of Junko and she's got the similar fashion kinda background but yeah I'm kinda suspicious of her. And I don't know if they'll die or survive or whatever, but I can see a lot of tension between Cassidy and Wenona happening because of their views.

But honestly, the main thing that I find really interesting is that we're playing as a kinda antagonistic character. Like Damon is honestly like a Togami type character but he's the protagonist??? It's a really interesting idea because all the official protagonists are dead set on keeping the group together and hopeful whereas Damon literally walked in and said "Your talents ain't shit, I'm better than all of you and you're stupid for thinking that there's no way someone won't be driven to murder." Like honestly? With his attitude, I have no clue if he'll even make it to the end. But I'm really, really interested to see where his character goes.

Sorry for writing so much, I'm just really excited about this game.

[lollo-sw-br]

Idol Wing AU: Star 2: Super DREAM1ES!

CEO's office - MAX1M Entertainment

Choi Tae Ho, CEO of MAX1M Entertainment, seeing that the group already with three albums was not making profit as he hoped it would, he was now willing to boycott YUM1E and do anything to get him to disband.

But the problem would not be the easiest thing in the world, his right hand Lee Han Jin, did not want to end YUM1E in any way, because unlike the CEO, he believed in the success of YUM1E

- This group is lost! - said Tae Ho - has not won anything so far, considering that we promoted a single and two mini albums, no opportunity to go to MAMMA or Ighigayo and get in a good position

- TaeHo, you are being very impatient - said HanJin - hope that YUM1E will hit a lot

- Stop dreaming HanJin - said TaeHo - YUM1E will not make a hit level BTS and BLACKPINK, it's useless, it's not going to work! This group is not a hit like I expected, I don't see success in anything!

- If you don't see potential in the group, then I do! - Han Jin said - The YUM1E is going to hit whether you like it or not!

HanJin left the room leaving TaeHo alone and thoughtful, little did the Co-CEO know that his boss was planning to disband YUM1E.

- This group cannot continue, I will not let this little group tarnish my company's image - TaeHo said - YUM1E needs to put an end point, and I will be the one who will have the intense pleasure of doing that.

Main Hall - World Aircraft

The girls created the Fanpage (loveyum1e.ofc), in addition, the Super Wings girls spread YUM1E's songs all over the airport, either listening to the songs near other Super Wings to get them interested in the group, or performing dance covers of the choreography, most of the team (younger members) were already part of Fandom, while the veterans enjoyed the music and supported the group, being a senior fan, being less intense as the younger ones.

Jerome, Paul and those who love to dance learned the choreography, Jett, Flip, Crystal, Ellie, Dizzy and that more radical, they tried the movements and they remade scenes of the MVs, with Bello, Grand Albert, Poppa Wheels and others, like to reproduce the photos in the album, play the games that come with them (each one comes with a different game, according to the concept and theme of the concept, from a memory game, even a group deck, In addition to the clear, collectible cards in all albums, piquing the interest of collectors).

The World Airport was taken over by YUM1E, played the songs all the time, plus Random Dance Play competitions (YUM1E ver.), Waiting eagerly for the Fameetings and Fansing of the group, and waiting to be noticed by the group, and little did they know that just as they are DREAM1ES, the group members are WINGERS and wanted the same.

- Wait guys! - Said Astra - Comeback will come out now in April get ready!

- I'm so curious! - said Jett - I want to know what the concept is going to be? will it be a full album?

- Here's saying it's going to be a surprise - Sunny said

- Surprise? - said Donnie - this kills me with curiosity!

- From everybody Donnie - said Dizzy

- I hope Lollo and Flora get the spotlight they deserve - said Ellie

- Poor thing about our Bias - said Mira - they really deserved more attention

- Who knows girls - said Tino - Flora is also my bias

- Never lose hope - said Grand Albert - Lollo is my bias and I think it's unfair and what the company does to her.

- I agree - said Narae - let's wait for the Comeback and see what will happen

- Let's not give up - said Jett - the girls will stand out, I love Brighie, but the company thinks she, Vicky, Aria and Cherie are the only ones in the group, That's absurd.

- I agree! - all said

To be continued....

[obigem]

"Did my mediocre dance moves offend you?" He joked with a laugh.

"No." Melody smiled. "It's just, it's getting pretty late, and I should be going is all."

"Yeah, but I thought we were meant to party?"

"We did. And now I think you're primed for a private party." She winked.

"What?" Jett looked confused.

"You're cute Jett, but you're pretty dense."

"Huh?"

"Jo, I'm pretty sure she's into you. And unless my eyes deceive me, I'm pretty sure you're into her too."

"Oh, well." Jett was flustered now. "We just work together."

"And you like her."

"If you like her, and I'm pretty certain she likes you, then I'm just a third wheel."

"I thought you said 3 people make a party?"

"Not when it's Love Day and the other 2 people have a shot at romance. So take the shot, Jett."

"And what about you?"

"I don't need romance."

"Melody."

"Don't look at me like that you big softie. The best thing I could've asked for was to spend the night with a good friend, and you're one of the best." She caressed his cheek. "You're a good guy Jett Boyd. You deserve romance. Don't worry about me."

[loisfreakinglane]

has anyone asked disco yet? also ds9 also idk whatever the movies are called i can’t keep track of these things

OOOOOOOOOOH SO MANY TREKS!

disco!

The first character I first fell in love with: 

MICHAEL!!!!!!!!!!! THAT FACE. FOREVER.

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: 

emperor georgiou is so evil and i adore her she is my EVERYTHING

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: 

no one springs to mind?

The character I love that everyone else hates: 

lorca was just suuuuuch a good character including all the villainy. ALSO I LOVED AIRIAM AND HER DEATH EP HIT ME HARD

The character I used to love but don’t any longer:

mmmmmmmm i've just....... gotten really ambivalent about gabrielle

The character I would totally smooch: 

ash, michael, book

The character I’d want to be like: 

JETT RENO, ICON

The character I’d slap: 

lorca?????? LELAND

A pairing that I love:

ASH/MICHAEL. also ash/pike i am what i am

A pairing that I despise: 

hmmmm the fact lorca/michael exists in some universe makes me shudder

DS9!

The first character I first fell in love with: 

it was either benjamin or julian

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: 

GOD SO MANY PPL THO???? a huuuuuuuuge one is rom. i found him so obnoxiously weak willed at the beginning lol. ALSO O'BRIEN. oh and nog!!!!!!!!!!

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: 

nobody comes to mind!

The character I love that everyone else hates: 

DO PPL HATE QUARK BC HE'S AN ASSHOLE BUT I FIND HIM SOOOOOOOO ENTERTAINING. also ezri! we never should have lost jadzia but ezri was adorable

The character I used to love but don’t any longer:

i used to be way more into odo at the beginning of the show. still love him but i just got less and less interested

The character I would totally smooch: 

bashir is top of the list

The character I’d want to be like: 

can i say lwaxana troi or will u judge me

The character I’d slap: 

dukat obvsly. also quark! bc i love him but he deserves it!

A pairing that I love:

BASHIR/GARAK OTP 5EVERRRRRRRR

A pairing that I despise: 

why did they try to make ezri/bashir happen out of nowhere

star trek chris pine movies i think you're saying??

The first character I first fell in love with: 

KIRK! MY LOVE!

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: 

i was so mad about sofia's character being a fully painted alien that i didn't expect how much i would ADOOOOOOORE jaylah. BUT I DO. MY BABY.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: 

nobody??? i can't think of anyone lol

The character I love that everyone else hates: 

I LOVE CAROL MARCUS SHE IS MY SPACE MOM

The character I used to love but don’t any longer:

n/a

The character I would totally smooch: 

spock tops the list. then uhura, kirk, sulu, carol, etc lol

The character I’d want to be like: 

SPACE MOMMMMMMM

The character I’d slap: 

fake khan that piece of shit

A pairing that I love:

kirk/spock/uhura are an ot3 of dreams. also i fucking love both spock/uhura and kirk/carol leave me alooooooooone

A pairing that I despise: 

n/a! SO MUCH N/A

[jade-escobar]

Group Text | Jett, Jewel, Jade & Jasper Clark

Jewel: Ummm Jadey? Question? WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL US YOU AND MR. ESCOBAR GOT MARRIED? Jasper: I'm sorry, WHAT?? Jett: Yeah! Mr. Escobar kept referring to his "wife" in class and said his wife was a chef and we already know he's dating our sister. Jasper: And he didn't ask for my blessing. Tf. And to think I liked him. Jasper: Jade don't ghost us! YOUR SIBLINGS DESERVE ANSWERS. The twins might not be able to drive yet but I can. I know where you work. I will show up and I will raid your fridge. Jade: Whoa. Yes, I was working, so I wasn't able to respond to your texts. I did read all of them though. Jade: I don't know what any of you are talking about though. Rodrigo and I aren't married. We aren't even engaged. Jett: Well now I'm confused. Jewel: Ditto because he definitely said "wife" in class. More than once. Jasper: Wishful thinking? Jade: I don't know. You'll have to ask him. Jasper: What about you? Have YOU thought about it? Jade: Sure I have, but now's not the time for me to get into it. I'm trying to clean up so I can go home and get some packing done. Plus, no offense Jett and Jewel but I don't want either of you reporting back to Rodrigo on things I've said in our group text. Jewel: We won't! Jett: Jewel will. I won't. But ok, fair. Jewel: Hey! Jasper: Thanks for clearing the air, Jade. Jade: Have a good weekend, all of you. I love you guys.

[gnj9ata]

Life check point - I can't seem to go to sleep so I decided to redownload Tumblr and do a life check point of my life up to this point for preservation sake I guess. I had a thought of doing that with little videos and posting them to my YouTube channel. It's funny because I read old Tumblr messages on here and try to figure out my state of mind at that time to no avail.

So what is going on in life...

After all of these years, I am doing bumpers for the MCA again or should I call it The Chat Attack now. It's not mines anymore. It stop being that 6 years ago. He did ask me to come back on the show. I declined. I know me and my head. I would just try to recreate something that isn't there anymore. Same reason I keep watching the old bumpers and shows. I tell myself it's for inspiration or getting new ideas for the new bumpers, but it's me reliving the "glory" days. When I had a group of people listening to me. When I had power or control over something bigger than myself. If I am being honest, it feels good knowing I was "Top dog" at one point in time. That I got my idol at one point Korey Coleman to say "Attack the chat" once on a video, even though if I had the opportunity to talk to him about that, he probably wouldn't remember. It was something out of my head...that became real. That's powerful to me and I really want to do it again.

Ms gay is gone. Died from stomach cancer. Her mom had to stay with us for 4 months while Ms Gaye's sister was buying a house. She just moved out a month ago. Interesting experience. It took for her to die for me to know her name was first name was Carol.

Miranda is still missing...I miss her a lot. I told trey. I would have married her. And that is still true I feel. When I get the resources, I am going to find you.

And dan

Dan is still missing....

Find meech as well.

Jett seems happy with Nick. I'm happy for them both. They both deserve that. Had rough lives. It's nice they can finally get something out of it. Not sure if I will ever get married or what not and do that whole children thing. Only time will tell I guess. I could be reading this ten years from now and have all of these things. We will see.

I am kind of just kinda "meh" on the whole thing at the moment. Dating isn't even my main focus.

I work for pottery barn at the moment. Retail support agent. I answer emails all day. Easy ass job. I legit could just sit there for hours and occasionally do work. Sometimes I read a book or just watch YouTube videos. I am know as the "hype man" in the teams room. If I am being honest, it gives me similar feels to what I had with the MCA. People actually look for me and wonder where I am at. It feels nice to feel wanted or when people like to just be in your presence. But is it real? Just like the love I had with the MCA? Does it have an expiration date?

Because I know I will be curious later...

The book is Sophia's World: A history on philosophy. Good stuff so far. Recommend by ruthless. Yeah....still talking to him. He doesn't respect me like he use too. Doing thumbnails for his YouTube or at least I think I am. I haven't gotten work to do on it in a few weeks. We will see if that last.

I do thumbnails for Josh's The Afternoon Tune. Still going strong. Gave me free range on the thumbnails. I'm proud of him. Although everytime I look at the YouTube page, I see MCA DNA. Still friends with the group....we legit been through think and thin together so I think at this point, our relationship as friends...hell as family at this point is soild. I really hope they all respect me, but aren't these the same thoughts I had last time? Before I burned everything to the ground so what do I know? We are all meeting up for the first time as a group in March. Meeting up in New York. I hope everything goes well.

Regardless I know for a fact I have Fernando and Soberna in my corner. I still talk to them. The only folks from staples at this point. Although the Halloween party, I did get to see Angela, josh and Jermaine. That was fucking cool. I am really happy for Jermaine and his husband. Had no idea the dude was gay, but happy for him regardless.

Devon is still Devon.... maybe worst...or maybe our relationship is just really bad. It's almost like resentment now. I don't even like talking to him now. It's like I have already mourned the lost of my brother and he is still here. I am not even sure how to approach this situation at all. Recently had a conversation with mom about how I am frustrated that he gets to give up, but I can't. Even if I had the opportunity to do so, my mind wouldn't let me. I know I would regret all that wasted time. I have stuff I want to do with my life. And I can't stop until those are accomplished. And even then....lol

Anything else?

I am very annoyed in myself that I have forgotten alot of stuff I use to know. After effects, driving, pass books or let's plays I have watched. What was the last let's play I watched?

Can't remember. (Could probably check the YouTube history if I cared enough)

Still working with my therapist on mindpath. Although I am thinking of just cutting it off. I think I May have reached the point of what she can help with. I think this is one of those roads I probably have to finish alone. I have changed my sessions from every two weeks to every three weeks.

I still care about what my mom, my friends, my coworkers.....other people think about me. I still care and haven't learned my lesson yet. What is it going to take for me to finally stop caring? What is it going to take? The improvement junkie stuff is starting to get annoying to. I can't even relax on my off day and using time to think about how to get better at after effects or improve my memory or get better at mental math. I am going through timeline order of the marvel movies at the moment which is alot more fun than I thought. Trying to get back into gaming more with my steam deck. I love that thing.

It's 6 am and I have yet to get any sleep. And I am suppose to be driving to see Fernando and Soberna today. I need sleep....

[mmunson86]

Gosh darn it Eddie Munson why are you being such a freaking stubborn ass!?! Lol not that it isnt in your nature but still sheesh let us help out we do it out of love! Lol yeah we are comfortable around Eddie if we are rolling our eyes at him😂 BB we can be stubborn to try us🙃 yup we are going to do one of these ideas so dont even think that your stubbornness is going to get you out of this one we are standing our ground MR! Gosh i love how this man is slowly giving into us like eeek! He wants us just as bad as we want him and i couldn’t be more excited!💗

Ohhh fuck Uhhh Jett honey it would never work like its nice and all and i didnt expect this at all like this hit me out of left field but yeah umm we have been hooked on Eddie the moment we saw this man outside his house, nothing against you but yeah Eddie is Eddie you cant help it the man is perfectly imperfect💗

Gosh i love all the details you have poured into what Eddie is thinking & experiencing as we are pitching ideas to him it makes my heart skip a beat because its clear as day its just taking some time but Eddie you deserve to be loved and we can do that for you🥹💗

Stop fighting the good things is right! Look Eddie know that we would never do a thing to hurt you honestly i know that you have been through hell but i can promise you that you deserve nice things you deserve a break & you are more than enough. Ohhh shoot okay i had guessed that the events he went through had something to do with the counting awee my love thats okay we got you! We dont know how to throw a hoedown either so we shall learn together🥰

It makes me smile that Donnie cares this much about Eddie & his happiness it shows that he is clearly very well loved by many! Cant wait to meet the gang💗

Woah okay Jett not freaking cool dude! Get your emotions in check my guy stop being an ass to Eddie! & Eddie my love we do not hate you trust me! Yeah Jett is being a little biiiitch sorry not sorry he is staring shit for no reason i am going to snap his neck if he doesnt stop!

Ahhh we are fucking idiots in love ISTG we are both just as stubborn and man do i want to smack the crap out of Jett thanks to him we are literally back to square one with Eddie ugh lolbit i loved this chapter & cant wait for more 💗🥹

Us & Eddie⬇️ it pains me to feel like we are back to square one after everything that happened this chapter😭🥹

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Nine - Blue Eyes

W/C: 8.4K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Blue eyes never caught your attention...until they stepped into The Bourbon.

A/N: this was such a monster of a chapter to edit just because there's a lot going on...i hope y'all like it <3

Masterlist

Prev |

“Okay, well that’s not gonna work.  We can’t afford all that.” 

“What if I gather some…I dunno…donations?”  You ponder.

“Bambi, enough.”

Eddie huffs at your persistence, crossing off a few items from the list placed in front of him.  Your adorable handwriting had spelled out numerous options for fundraising ideas; something to get the bar back into a somewhat profitable margin.  He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he wasn’t grateful for your efforts but he had proven to become more and more annoyed as your list grew throughout the week.  An impatient Jett stands next to you, rocking back and forth on his heels as he sucks in his cheeks, attempting to keep his thoughts to himself, though it was never his strong suit to remain quiet when necessary.

“Dude, just pick one!”  He blurts out.

The tiny office looked comical, three bodies crammed in a small space that would certainly run out of oxygen had the door been shut.  A displeased glare catches Jett’s attention, only offering you a shrug in response to his outburst.  You’d mentioned before even approaching Eddie for the umpteenth time this week that the key was going to be patience.  Let him come to you.  Make it seem like part of it was his idea so he doesn’t feel like you’re doing charity for him.

“No, we can’t afford to put on a…a wine tasting or a—hoedown?”  Eddie questions with furrowed brows as he underlines the words with his pointer finger.

“Eddie, if you let me–”

“I’m not letting you do anything.”  He asserts.

“Listen–”

“No.”

Eddie Munson was the most stubborn being on planet earth, that much you could attest to.  But you weren’t going to let him tackle your plans to the ground without a good fight.  

“Munson.”  Jett tries, only to be met with an inflamed scowl.

With wide eyes, you attempt to pull his attention back to you, hoping to save Jett from receiving an earful later.  “Eddie–”  

“Nope.”

“Eddie!”  You squeal, eyes squinting shut painfully as you throw a miniature tantrum.

“Bambi.”  He deadpans, leaning over his desk to stare you down.  “Leave it.”

The look that used to scare you weeks ago now only had you rolling your eyes.  He was at it again, refusing any ounce of help that was offered.  When he got like this, you could only play it up and bring out your begging eyes.  Hope for the best.  

“Jett, can you give us a minute?”  You clear your throat, an overly polite tone taking over.

“Fine.”  He sighs before leaning in to whisper.  “The hoedown…make him pick the hoedown.”

With a playful smack to his shoulder, you escort Jett out of the office–or rather you push him out and kick the door shut.  His sights were set on that hoedown ever since the two of you sat down to scrawl out a few ideas the previous week.  It was bold of him to assume that you could ‘make’ Eddie pick that option.  If you’d learned anything since moving here, it was that Eddie Munson was a force to be reckoned with.

“Alright Munson.”  You lean over his desk as he takes a seat in the squeaky office chair, you were a bit too comfortable in his space as your perfume flooded his nose.  “We are doing one of these, whether you like it or not.”

His stare should frighten you, large intimidating eyes nearly black as the patience drains from him, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as if he were contemplating a scolding remark that would force you to back off.  It only encourages you.

“Oh, we are?  I wasn’t aware we were under new management.”  He counters, seemingly deciding to choose a softer approach.

“Yes, we are.”  You bite.  “Because if not, we aren’t even a we.  There is no bar.  Will that make you happy?”  

If it seemed harsh, it still needed to be drilled into his thick skull.  

“I know that!”  Eddie raises his voice, caught up in the heat of the moment.  He didn’t allow himself a moment to think, only act.

He wishes he could punch himself for the way he made your face drop.  A hint of fear taking over your graceful features.  It wasn’t who he was—or at least that’s what he was trying to convince himself.  He didn’t yell to get his way, he was not his dad.  

“Fuck–’m sorry.  Sorry.  I didn’t mean to…get all mad and blow up on you.”  He sighs, shyly shifting his gaze toward the ground.  “I’m just…”  He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I’m stressed and–that’s not an excuse, I’m just trying to–fuck I dunno.” 

“Eddie...”  Your saccharine tone pulls him out of whatever hole he was currently digging himself into.  So candied and coated in tenderness.

He doesn’t need to respond for you to continue, the look on his face telling you everything.  The wrinkles forming between his eyebrows are extra prominent, frown lines growing deeper in his anguish.  

“Let us help.”  Your words are dripping in honey.  It’s obvious that you’re buttering him up, putting on your extra sad puppy dog eyes just for him, lip puckered out extra pouty, such a pretty sight, all for him.

“We want to help.”

There’s no saying no to you, he can’t stomach it.  It was getting worse as time went on, every time he had the urge to tell you no, he couldn’t help but feel sick.  Maybe if he pulled Jett back into the equation he’d have better luck.  The kid got under his skin especially when he egged Eddie on and didn’t take a hint.  But when you’re sitting all pretty for him, your elbows propped on his desk as you stare at him like you want nothing more in the world, who is he to deny you?

“Okay.”  He exhales nervously.  “Whatya got?”

“Really?”  Your eyes twinkle, something he’d pay to see every single day, even if he was on the verge of bankruptcy.  Which he was.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”  

From just outside of the door, Jett chews on his nails, the argumentative tone of conversation just seconds ago still riddling him with anxiety.  It would do no one any favors to rile up the boss who had clearly already been under an immense amount of pressure with his inherited business crumbling around him.  Jett knew the steaks, he knew that Eddie would refuse to give up given that his grandfather had passed down everything to his only known grandson, leaving behind his legacy.  Unfortunately, it’s hard to offer help to those who refuse it.  But Jett knows that if anyone can persuade the big, bad Eddie Munson who was too stubborn for his own good, it was going to be you.

Every time you walked into the room, Jett witnessed a miserable man come to life.  Bored, tired eyes became enamored and filled to the brim with infatuation.  A bland day would instantly be cured the second you sauntered in with your tray, more often than not dropping it in the process of securing your apron around your waist.  You never learn, always opting to struggle with the tray tucked in between your arm and body while your hands fumbled with those damn strings, sending the tray straight into the floor, your pens spilling out of your apron and startling you every time as the items clanged against hardwood.  And every time, Eddie is there, watching from across the room before the inevitable happens.  Every time, he is at your feet, collecting your mess and questioning ‘got it?’ in a gentle tone that Jett doesn’t ever recall hearing before you came into the picture.  

Every time, Eddie Munson is reduced to a puddle of a man right before everyone’s eyes.  Only ever for you.

It’s infuriating. 

Jett supposes had he made his move sooner he would hold your attention like Eddie does.  He would catch your gaze from across the bar, a tiny smile gracing your lips.  The sparkle in your eyes would be for him and only for him.

Reality delivers a punishing kick and reminds him that Eddie had you from the beginning, even when he was outright rude to you.  He had your curious eyes from day one.  It wasn’t fair, Jett was so convinced at first.  It wasn’t fair that Eddie had been the biggest asshole and yet your mind seemed so made up on him, eyes never lingering on another soul as long as they did when Eddie was around. 

He was sure that he was over it, he told himself there was no chance, but something about the banter he heard muffled by the office door only stirred up every pessimistic cell in his body.  Every giggle you let out at some stupid ‘joke’ that wasn’t even funny, every fucking time Eddie called you Bambi, every time you playfully scolded him only to reel back and flatter him, all of it drove Jett nuts.  His fists were clenched at his side, knuckles threatening to split at the tension and face a raging red.

Because Eddie Munson had the very thing he desired.  And he didn’t deserve her.

–

Your negotiations intrigued Eddie, the way you had a solution for every problem he attempted to create didn’t even frustrate him anymore.  It used to aggravate him when you would offer a simple solution to a problem he deemed unsolvable.  Now it only made his pupils dilate, his breathing becoming uneven solely because he couldn’t get enough of your energy.  He thrived off of it, a different kind of high taking over him when you would voice your ideas, your eyes lighting up as he watched the gears turn in your head.  

He almost misses your offer to persuade Jett into snagging some hay bales from his family’s farm should he end up choosing the Hoedown Night from your extensive list.  Truthfully, he was lost.  Lost in swirling thoughts of the girl in front of him who nearly two months ago, he would have never given the time of day to.  And he didn’t…at first.  But now…now he would give you any time of day you wanted.  Rain or shine, day or night.  He didn’t care, he would do the impossible if it meant your face lit up like a Christmas tree every time.  He just couldn’t quite admit it to himself yet.

His lack of enthusiasm concerns you although you don’t show it as you continue ranting on about Donnie mentioning some old table cloths and picnic blankets she no longer wanted that could be used.  She even mentioned her husband having a few empty barrels out in their garage that could be great for apple bobbing.  She went as far as to ask around for different items they could use from her neighbors, already collecting an array of items they could use at their disposal.

“-and then we charge for entry.  I know it’ll probably only make a small profit but it can hold us over somewhat, right?”  

He’s thinking again.  

His bottom lip is tugged on by his teeth and his lids are heavy with that far off look.  You didn’t think your pitch was that awful in all honesty.  You would admit that Donnie’s idea of a stripper night could be taking it too far but there were so many other ideas that had such potential and if he turned every single one down, you didn’t quite have a backup plan prepared.

“Eddie?”

He blinks, twirling his pen in between his fingers as if it were a drumstick but he still remains unresponsive.  It’s not a good sign.

“I-I know it’s a lot of work and–”

“Okay.”  He breathes.

“Okay?”

Your eyes become doe-like, ironically.  You were really living up to that nickname, the one that sent goosebumps up your spine if he said it soft enough.

“Okay.”  

His agreement doesn’t feel genuine, his gaze cast somewhere far off from the tiny room.  

“Eddie.”  

Your tone goes stern.  Or at least stern enough for him to break out of his thoughts.  Within seconds, coffee colored eyes are regarding you in a way that can only be met with heated cheeks and twiddling thumbs.  He had been lost in his mind again, only returning at the mention of his name a second time through that firmness you displayed when you really cared about something.  

“Bambi.”  The word is grounding, anxieties settling where they were once fluttering around in your stomach.  You no longer worried if you had upset him in some way.  Not when his voice sounded so smooth, so satiny that it almost killed you.

That welcoming voice that felt like a tight hug echoes in your ears.  Brown sugar falling from his tongue and sweetening any further exchange of words, no matter how conflicting his mindset could be compared to yours.  As long as he kept using that tone, you would be putty in his hands.

“Um, so…we’re doing this?”  You question meekly, a contrast to the confidence you had just displayed. 

It’s quiet, though his red cheeks are louder than any words.  He’s apprehensive, his irises darting around the less than decorated room.  It’s obvious that he’s fighting an internal battle, engaged in a horrible disagreement with himself.  Harsh words are probably prodding at his brain, forcing him to be reluctant in accepting any fraction of help.  

What he doesn’t realize is that while he swears you’re staring at the biggest coward to walk the earth, you find him to be brave.  It was clear after previous nights of long talks and shared trauma, that this wasn’t easy for him.  Giving up control was the most terrifying thing he could do.  Accepting this form of help was foreign to him, people back home in Indiana never offered him such courtesy.  

So you wait.  

With a stupid amount of patience that Eddie will never understand, you soften your gaze.  All pressure is removed.  Your attention shifts to doodling some kind of a flower on the paper sitting atop the desk in between you.  You don’t await an answer from him, you only exist with him.  Nothing is required of him and somehow, you both understand that.  

He doesn’t want to be held to such requirements.  He wants you to raise your standards and he wants to meet them, exceed them.  You shouldn’t have to dull your bright personality for his shattered dignity.  He’d always been a shadow looming over those he was closest to, always a dark cloud among a sunny day reminding everyone of his detrimental existence.  

Good things did not happen to Eddie Munson.  

Not in the past, not in the present no matter how convincing life could be in coaxing him into its trap, and certainly not in the future.  Anything disguised as a saving grace would always end up being Eddie’s eternal hell.  It always has and it always will.

Either way, his fate was determined.  So why not let you take the lead?  In his eyes, it would honor him if you ruined his life and although the mere thought of you leaving him behind in the aftermath of destruction haunted him, he couldn’t help but give up his control.  

He was tired of fighting off the ‘good things’.  

Especially when he would be left to piece himself together either way.  It’s just another event he would have to endure, another lesson he wouldn’t learn from because he was too goddamn stubborn.  Another mountain he would have to climb with his bloody, bare hands.

You continue waiting, not once pestering him for confirmation.  He hates it.

He hates it, he hates it, he hates it.

You should be screaming at him, demanding an answer after his prolonged silence.  Your hands should be smacking the surface of the desk in annoyance, your eyebrows should be pinched in frustration, and they aren’t.  

There’s a comfort in the abuse.

Secretly, he begs you to lose your cool, pleads with some higher power that you snap out of it and just slap him across the face like he deserves.  He is being difficult and you aren’t reacting.  He has gone mute and you are simply okay with it.  Even in the most forgiving situations he braces for impact but you make it so hard to.  

His guard is supposed to be up, the walls are supposed to close him in and keep everything out but they’re crumbling around him, fast, exposing him.  He feels naked but you don’t stare at him with expectancy, you don’t reach out and snatch what vulnerability he has left.  

“I–”  He breaks the unforgiving silence, wincing as his voice cracks.  It’s only when you glance up at him with understanding eyes, your heart on your sleeve, that he relaxes.  

Tension still pulls at every muscle, but he breathes.  He breathes through the nausea of putting his trust into another person.  Something he swore to never do again ever since his dad dared to show his face one last time back when Eddie was in high school.  It was only the last time because he had gotten arrested, Eddie was sure he’d be stupid enough to give him several chances in hopes of fixing his deranged father.  He was only human and the six year old kid in him only wanted to see the good in people, especially his ‘pops’.

“We–we’re doing this.”  He practically demands of himself.

“Eddie we don’t have to–”

“We’re doing it.”

With glassy eyes, he nods as if he’s still convincing himself.  You can’t help but intervene.

“Seriously, I know we were coming on strong but it’s just because–”

“I know.”  

You don’t need further confirmation from him, big brown eyes doing enough of the talking as you begin to assure him he was the one calling the shots.    

“Do you?”  You ask genuinely.

Again, a part of him is pissed that you won’t just take the answer and tell him he didn’t need to be such a baby about the whole thing.  Maybe slam the door out of irritation, enough to shake the wall.  Maybe ask for a raise for all of your efforts.  People didn’t do things for him just to be nice and he was already hating himself for being so pitiful that Donnie was offering to help without any compensation.  

“Yeah.”  He whispers.

“Are you sure?”  

“Can you just–”

Eddie finds himself on the cusp of blowing up again.  Anger bubbles in the back of his throat like bile, his hands clenched into fists repeatedly as his lips trace those familiar numbers before letting anything he regrets fall from his mouth in his moment of fury.

“Can I just what?”  You question softly, hand reaching for his.

“Nothing.”  He breathes.

There’s a pause, a brief moment where he’s clearly panicked, resembling a spooked horse.  It disappears just as fast as it came, his eyes softening as he processes the situation.  You just had to go and ruin it.

“Why do you count?”  

The question spills into the air without you even thinking, your mind simply throwing it out there without fear of any consequences.  Without thinking that maybe now isn’t the time.  You regret it as his shoulders tense up, his guard up once again.  The guard you’d patiently chipped away at only to destroy any progress you’d made.

“I–”

“Sorry, sorry!  I’m sorry, I–just pretend I didn’t ask.”  You attempt to stitch the messy conversation back together.

“No, uh, I-I…”  

Stop letting her in.

You’re gonna get hurt.

You don’t expect his shoulders to untense as he sighs, you don’t anticipate how quickly his guard falls again, any hesitance he displays faltering before completely disappearing into thin air.  All that remains is sincerity, face no longer contorted in worry and eyelids drooping ever so slightly in his sudden relaxation.

“I just–I started doing it after…after everything back…back home.”  He answers before his thoughts can steer him away.  “I dunno why.”

You’re satisfied with his answer, you’d even be satisfied with no answer.  He didn’t owe you explanations and yet he kept giving them to you.  Spilling his guts out to you, practically letting them fall onto the thin, dingy carpet of the office.

“I, uh, I’ve asked my therapist about it.”  He elaborates, voice quiet and mumbled.  “She said it’s part of the PTSD.”

You didn’t expect him to reveal such a personal detail although you find yourself squeezing his hand, settling into the quiet of the bland room.  Words aren’t necessary, they never are between you.  

“I don’t even know how to throw a hoedown.”  Eddie snorts to himself, the energy shifting into something more familiar, more comfortable in the blink of an eye.

You’re willing to unpack whatever baggage he had revealed but it’s clear that he no longer is.  And that was okay.  

“Oh don’t you worry, I’m gonna get you a big bedazzled cowboy hat and everything, just let me take care of the details.”  You partially joke, deciding not to tease him over his not-so-subtle choice of Hoedown Night.

“No, nuh-uh.  Not happening.”  He protests, arms thrown up dramatically.

“C’mon, you need to look the part!”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

His smile is contained, a grin threatening to pull at his pretty lips as his thumb grazes the top of your hand.  A small gesture that nearly burns your skin.

“Well, I think you’d look cute in a cowboy hat.”  Again, your mind speaks for you without any contemplation.  

You should take it back.

You want to regret it.

You don’t.

It’s worth it when his face flushes red again, his fingers coyly pulling a curl over his face as if to hide, a sight you wanted to capture if only you had your polaroid with you.  You’d have to settle for mentally pinning this moment to the wall in your mind that was ever growing.  He doesn’t return the flirtatious banter but it doesn’t go unnoticed when he beams at you from his chair as you offer him sparkling eyes and fluttering lashes on your way out.

Two Weeks Before Thanksgiving

“Okay, Jett’s  bringing the haybales in for Friday?”

“Yep.”  Your pen glides across your messy, scribbled out checklist in a hurry.

“Did you get the apples yet?”  

“Nope, was gonna stop by Thursday so they’re fresh.”  You mumble, jotting down a few more tasks that had yet to be done.

“Alright and Nathan’s gonna have his truck all set for hay rides outside, that’s another charge right?  We can charge extra?”  Donnie questions, her scatter brain on full display.

“Yes, that would be great.”  You assure, grace in your tone.

“Alright and then, Eddie’s friends should be here on Wednesday to surprise him–”  Donnie begins to mutter.

What?”  Your eyes widen, practically bulging out of your head.

“Yeah, Steve?  And then the others–”  Realization hits Donnie like a train, her eyes nearly falling out of her skull just as yours were.  “Oh shit!  I forgot to tell you.”  She hisses.

Glancing around, she ensures the coast is clear before waving you out back.  It was a Monday, the lack of patrons allowing you to do all the planning you needed to for Knife’s Edge first ever Hoedown.  Donnie had been mapping out the place, assisting you in drawing out the layout for the event on paper.  Eddie had been managing the bar, the sluggish evening rendering him positively bored, making it a point to initiate a huge yawn every time you passed by throughout the evening.

It drove him crazy when you pretended to ignore him.

“Do you think he heard you?”  You whisper, the safety of being just around the corner not enough to convince you.

“He didn’t, that boy is nearly deaf.”  Donnie seems certain.  “God, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”  She throws her arms up in exasperation.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” 

“Here’s the deal.”  Donnie pulls herself together, grabbing you by the shoulders.  “They come into town Wednesday night.  Four of them I think, I always forget their names, god it makes me feel like shit.  Anyway, they’re gonna surprise him at the bar.  They usually stay with him.”  She nearly runs out of breath in her explanation.

“Okay.”  You breathe.  

“Did I answer your questions?”

“I, uh, I think so.”  You nod.

“You cannot tell him.”  Donnie stares you down.  “They’ve never surprised him, he usually knows when they’re coming to visit.  Swear you won’t say a word.”  

Her demeanor is almost threatening although you find it sweet that she cares so much.  Eddie’s best interest had always been something she prioritized, same as you.  In your eyes he was a golden boy with a golden heart who was dealt shitty cards.  You weren’t sure if Donnie had been enlightened about any pieces of his past but you both seemed to have the same goal in mind.

His happiness.

As you continued to prepare for Friday’s events, you avoided eye contact with Eddie at all costs throughout the night, especially after you had learned about the ‘big surprise’.  You’d walk past the bar, the shaker in his hands as he prepared a drink.  He’d pause, the shaker mid air as his gaze trailed after you.  You felt awful for denying his puppy eyes but it was all for his benefit in the end.

You couldn’t lie though, holding his attention as you continued to ignore him over and over offered you an ego boost.  You’d never been looked at in such a way, you never felt so desired in your life.

–

“Have you seen the way she ignores me?”  Eddie complains, Jett only muttering nonsense in response that Eddie couldn’t decipher.

“She won’t even look at me when I talk to her!”  He almost whines.

It was getting to him, your constant neglect.  It had been a day, a whole day since you’d started avoiding his eyes, never smiling at him the way you usually did throughout your shift.  Not one little wave thrown his way.  He felt starved.  He’d never been so needy for someone’s attention, he was starting to feel like a leech.

“Dude, she’s just working.”  Jett grumbles, his hands occupied as he stacks a hay bale against the back of the building.  They’d been instructed to go out back and relocate them to make things easier come Friday night.  They’d previously been stacked near the dumpsters, a little ways away from the building and were now being hauled next to the back door for easy access.

“You don’t get it, she’s being weird.  It’s like she hates me.”  Eddie grunts as he lifts the brick of hay.

“Maybe she does.”  Jett sighs, not a single thought behind his words.

“What?”  Eddie questions, attempting to hide the panic that had begun to shock his nerves, his head snapping toward his supposed friend.

“I–I dunno.”  

“She say somethin’?”  Eddie demands, shoving the hay onto its corresponding stack as he diverts his attention to Jett fully.

Jett’s gaze only gives off that he’s hiding something, his eyes avoiding Eddie at all costs, an ongoing trend poor Eddie was beginning to find.  It only fuels a fire inside of him, embers growing angrier each moment Jett stands there dumbly.

“Did she?”  The look in Eddie’s eyes resembles that of a bear that had been poked.  Jett regrets letting his innermost thoughts fall from his lips in a moment of irritation, now he was subject to Eddie’s unforgiving inferno that was never easy to escape from.

“No.”  Jett snaps a bit too aggressively.  

“Then what?”

“I don’t know why you think she owes you attention.”

If Jett hadn’t fucked up yet, he certainly had now.  If only he could’ve kept his stupid, naive mouth shut.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Eddie’s fist clenched at his side says enough, it screams that the conversation should stop here, that Jett needs to stop egging him on but he refuses to let it end here.

“Yeah, you practically pissed on her, claiming your territory and shit.”

If looks could kill, Jett would be in for a world of pain.  Just when Eddie thinks the twerp is finally going to realize his place, he keeps going.

“She’s not your property, what if she had her sights set on someone else?  You gonna swoop in and piss on her again?”  

It feels as if someone grabbed his heart straight out of his chest and chucked it off the nearest cliff.  The blood had stopped pumping and he swears he feels his veins run cold.  He didn’t think he stood a chance with you but the thought of you becoming absolutely infatuated with Jett sickened him.  Did you really have the intention of going after Jett?  He couldn’t stomach the idea.  He might as well sell the bar and run now to save himself the heartache, the only thing he was good at.

“I–”  Eddie’s speechless, rage and sorrow clouding his vision.

“Oh, now you’re gonna shut up about–”

“I never claimed her, or pissed on her, or whatever the hell you’re saying.”  Eddie argues.

“Yes you did!  ‘Bambi’?  What kind of shit is that?”

Eddie can feel himself vibrating with anger, his blood heating up once again as he scowls.  Jett had not once expressed any interest in you and now here he was, attacking Eddie over something as stupid as a nickname.

“Go fuck yourself.”  He spits before storming inside.

No one would ever want to be on the receiving end of the absolute death glare he’d shot Jett.  It lasted seconds but some would go as far to say those seconds were torture.  Deep down Eddie knew he could punch Jett and be done with it, assert his dominance.  But that’s not what his intent was, you weren’t some prize to be won.  You had simply fallen into his life and he couldn’t help but fall in lo–

He couldn’t help but surrender to your existence.  

And now?  Now he was in his head again.  If you were going to ignore him, he was going to let you.  You didn’t owe him a thing, even after the late night talks and spilled guts of vulnerability.  Jett could have your attention for all he cares now.  Except, he does care.  And that’s what causes such an ache within him, the fact that he does care even if you don’t.

–

“Eddie, can you hand that glass to me?”  You request sweetly, tip toeing as you point toward the shelf above him.

He looks up, a wine glass tucked nicely on the top shelf within his reach but clearly outside of yours.  The frown on his face puzzles you though you keep to yourself as he garnishes a drink with orange.

“Mhm.”  He mumbles bitterly, reaching up to grab the glass and handing it to you without so much as a glance.

You should be glad, looking into his eyes would only force you to engage in conversation with him and doing so could lead you down the path of honesty.  You’d for sure give up the surprise and you only needed to last one more day, you couldn’t fuck this up.  

“You okay?”  You question, hesitantly gripping the glass in your smaller hand.

“Mhm.”  He mumbles again, sliding the cocktail across the counter to its awaiting customer.

“You sure?”  You betray yourself, attempting to catch his gaze, no longer caring that there was a chance of spoiling the surprise.

“Mhm.”  

It was the third hum in a row.  It drove you crazy, he would usually say something snarky and act like the smartass he is by now.  He’s not and it worries you.  Maybe it’s not your place to worry but you do.  

“Eddie.”  

“I’m fine.”  He huffs, chest heaving.

A warning glance has you nodding, slowly stepping away to resume your original task.  It was humbling, one day bantering and somehow falling into conversation about each other’s deepest secrets and the next being treated like a stranger.  You obey his stare, his chocolatey eyes no longer displaying any trace of affection or depth, only pure hostility.  The spark that had threatened to ignite so many times had disappeared completely, only what appeared to be ash leftover from the small fire that once burned within him.

“What’s wrong with him?”  Jett announces himself next to you, breaking down a dirty table as you go to retrieve one of The Bourbon’s most expensive bottles of wine for a snobby customer.

“I, I don’t know.”  You whisper in despair.

The rest of the night, you’re met with spiteful glares from Eddie and lingering touches from Jett.

Wednesday Night

This was it, after tonight you wouldn’t need to be so avoidant of Eddie.  You wouldn’t have to lie to his face.  It was becoming apparent however, that he had become irate.  Every second of the day.  That morning you waved to him as you got the mail and he tinkered with his truck to which he practically snarled and went right back to work.  It was like you were back to square one with him, back to when he hated you and you had disturbed his precious, quaint, little life.

It could just be that he’s in a bad mood, it was early after all and maybe his truck had given out on him again.  It was reasonable enough, it would piss you off had you been in his shoes.  You weren’t entirely sure you’d take it out on everyone but it would sour your mood.

It was hard to keep a smile on your face while he glared at you from behind the bar just as he had done the previous night.  You were trying to be the bigger person, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.  He was just making it so difficult by purposely delivering daggers to you whenever he could.

“Hey!”  Jett greets you, emerging loudly from the kitchen.

You greet him back, a muttered ‘hi’, your eyes unable to tear themselves away from the man that seemed to suddenly hate you.  You were in no mood to be friendly anymore, not when Eddie was creating such a venomous atmosphere using only his face.

“Is everything pretty much in place for Friday?”  

“Uh huh.”  You don’t even so much as look at Jett, a head full of curls the only thing holding your attention at the moment.

“You going with anyone?”  He asks, pushing himself into your line of sight, much to your dismay.

It was as if you were trying to read Eddie’s mind from across the room and if you stared hard enough, you’d finally get through.  You had no such luck and it could potentially be because Jett kept pestering you with questions.

“I’m working.”  You state obviously, wiping down the table you had been clearing.

“Well–yeah…yeah me too.  I just—maybe after?  Once everyone’s cleared out, would you wanna…go out?” 

It takes you by surprise and for a second, you’re unsure if he’s asking you out as a friend or if he’s making a move.  As you evaluate the situation, you determine that it’s the latter with the way he shyly smiles and averts his eyes ever so slightly, his cheeks tinting a bright pink.  You’d done nothing to feed into his interest, even when you figured he was just being friendly, simply too busy working to engage in the conversation he continued to try and force.  Now it was just going to get awkward.

“I–I, Jett I’m sorry but…no, I’m not–I can’t.”  You choke out, the sheer humiliation of the situation for both parties dragging you down.

“Oh.”  Is all he says, disappointment evident in his eyes, gaze casting toward the floor as he twists a rag around in between his fingers.

“I just–we’re friends–”

“Yeah.”  He sighs bitterly, spinning on his heel to speed off toward a busy table.

There was no further conversation, he didn’t let you finish, didn’t even offer to talk privately.  It was just…done.  And now you feared you’d made an enemy simply by saying no to a date.  You were now the villain in his story.  It seemed you were becoming the villain in everyone’s story at this rate, what’s one more?

It was t-minus two hours until Eddie’s friends would be arriving to surprise him and you were already worn out.  If there was any hope of making a good impression at some point, there wasn’t a chance anymore.  They’d be met with a mess of a girl with smudged mascara and crazy hair, apron stained with melted cheese that you had leaned into earlier on one of the tables.  

They were going to hate you.

–

“Honey, what’s wrong?  You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  Donnie ushers you toward the hallway leading to the back, only stopping just before going outside to talk in private.  

The whole night it seemed you were a brainless mess, messing up orders and forgetting in general how to do your job.  Donnie had been keeping an eye on the time, ensuring things were set up for when Eddie’s friends arrived all the while making sure he had no idea.  You’d helped set up the table for them and set aside the alcohol they liked but in all honesty you don’t even remember your entire shift.  You were right back to being a stupid girl that didn’t belong.

“I-I just–do you think Eddie is upset with me?”  Your lip wobbles pathetically.

“What!?”  Donnie gasps, as if it were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.  “Why would he be mad at you?  That boy likes you better than he likes me.  Better than he likes most of us.”

That was news to you, you’d never been the favorite.  And you doubted her words, no matter how sweet they were.

“I-I dunno.  He seems–he seems really on edge and I’m just…I’m really overwhelmed and–”  You whimper, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”  She rubs your shoulder almost uncomfortably.  Physical affection was not her specialty.  “I’m gonna–I’m gonna go get him–”

“No!”

Before your protests reach her ears, she’s gone, rounding the corner straight to the bar.  You’re well aware that you should rush out the back door behind you right now, that you should just spare everyone your existence but before you can pick up your heavy feet from the ground, a mane of curls comes hurling at you, hands reaching out to grip your shoulders.  You look pathetic, tears beginning to trail down your cheeks, mascara more than likely following them, creating the most psychotic image.

“Bambi, what happened?”  He asks, sincerity creasing his forehead rather than irritation as you’d grown used to in the past day or so.

“Nothing.”  You attempt to brush past him, swallowing what pride you had left only to be firmly held in place.

“What happened.”  He demands.

Chocolatey irises refuse to look away from you, his mind made up as he pushes for an explanation.  Determination settles in his gaze, he wasn’t going to let you take the easy way out, much to your dismay.  

“It’s not like you care.”

Your words bite, pain spreading as you regard him with such fire in your eyes.  His hands remain on your shoulders, keeping you there while he continues his interrogation.  It’s all too much, everything is falling apart in a matter of seconds.  At least that’s how it feels in your mushy little brain.

“What?”  He scoffs, offense evident in his pinched eyebrows.

“You don’t need to sit here and pity me.  I’m sure you have better things to do like mad dog me all night. ”  

It’s childish, the way that you cross your arms and jut your hip out to make a statement, but you can’t help it, especially when he had been such an ass the past few days.  You’d done nothing to instigate–at least nothing you could think of and if you had, he wasn’t manning up to communicate the issue.  The ball was in his court as far as you were concerned.

“What the fuck has gotten into everyone?”  Eddie removes his hands from your shoulders to drop his arms heavily at his sides, almost as if he had given up.  You hate that you miss the tiniest bit of warmth from his hands.

“No, what the fuck has gotten into you?”  You counter meanly.

“Me!?”  He raises his voice in the slightest but it doesn’t startle you, no, it only aggravates you.

“Yeah, you!”  You match his volume.  “You’re acting like a giant baby, moping around all day!  We’re all just supposed to put up with it cause you own the place!?”  

Eddie bites his tongue…hard.  It’s useless when his stupid brain shoves his words out of his mouth, no longer a private thought that he could forget when he managed to calm down later.

“You’re the one who’s been ignoring me all week!  What, are you too busy dry humping Jett to engage in actual conversation these days?”

There are several people scattered throughout the bar but at this moment, only her and Eddie exist.  It’s not how she imagined in her daydreams.  In her daydreams they’re smiling, unable to take their eyes off each other, his eyes swallow her lovingly and his rough hands brush against her cheeks as they drink in each other’s existence.  They don’t fight, they don’t argue.  

It would be too good to be true and she knows that.  But she didn’t expect him to be like every other guy.  He wasn’t like every other guy…until now.  Until he reduced her to some other guy’s side piece the moment he disagreed with her.

“I–what?”  You breathe in disbelief.

“I didn’t mean that.”  He wishes he could turn back time and slap himself, take the words back, and apologize for his toddler-like behavior.  Real life doesn’t offer such luxuries.

“Just–”  Your words are lodged in your throat, unable to defend yourself as he pathetically dials back on his insult.

When he reaches out to place his hand on your shoulder as he had before, you wince painfully.  Because it was painful.  His touch would be enough to singe your skin except this time it would be out of malice.  You wanted nothing to do with whatever apology he was about to improvise, you just wanted him to get out of your sight so you could finish up the night, clock out and cry into your pillow at home.  

The progress you’d made with him seemed to have disintegrated like grains of sand passing through your fingers.  It was such a miniscule issue that had only become larger with each sentence exchanged, an escalating argument between immature adults who were emotionally stunted and stubborn.

“Where’s Munson!”  An unfamiliar voice calls from the front.

He ignores it, ducking his head down to catch your eyes only to be met with seething anger.  His brain was scrambling to find a solution, a quick fix to tide you over.  There wasn’t.  He made his bed and he had to lay in it.  He was in the dog house, if you even would be so kind as to provide him a dog house.  He wouldn’t blame you if you chucked him out in the freezing cold for his behavior.

“Bambi–”

“Don’t.”  You grit, pushing past him, his shoulder taking an impressive hit.

As you round the corner, it’s obvious that the four strangers lingering around the bar were Eddie’s friends.  Good.  They could be left to deal with his insufferable personality and rude comments.

“Eddie!”  One of them shouts.  He had to have been younger by a few years, maybe a college student.  His curls are tighter than Eddie’s and he has an adorable grin that you couldn’t frown at any longer as he briefly glances at you.  His attire was nerdy, some kind of polo decorated in graphics on his torso and khaki pants showcasing his unique style.  To top it off, a baseball cap with a university logo sat snugly on his head.

The others appeared to be older, their demeanor a tad more mature than the boy that had yelled for Eddie like a younger sibling.  To the right of him was a man with crazy voluminous hair, you notice how his pants fit quite tightly although it works for him.  He wore a yellow sweater that seemed so cozy, you were starting to grow jealous.  As you subtly look him over, you conclude that he has a handsome face, he was good looking, you weren’t gonna lie to yourself.  He definitely wasn’t your type but you had eyes and could admit that he was in fact cute.

To the handsome guy’s right, is a girl with striking blue eyes and freckles dotting across her face.  She sports a dirty blond bob with some messy bangs, a look that you knew would look horrendous on you but did her justice.  She wears a blue toned flannel and some blue jeans with a few tiny holes and some converse.  The grin on her face is contagious, though you really couldn’t find it in you to provide such a large smile in return, your ears still burning from your previous interaction with he who shall not be named.  

Lastly, next to flannel girl, was perhaps a supermodel?  If not she could certainly be one.  Her face was also adorned in softer freckles and her eyes were a piercing blue, but she had these brown curls that reached just the tops of her shoulders that looked so lucious and well taken care of.  Her outfit was a little bit quirky but it worked and she might as well be a trendsetter in your book.  Her skirt was plaid and pink while her sweater was lavender with several tiny flowers creating a pattern across the fabric.  She wore these boots that you’d die to have in your closet, truthfully.  

Together, as a group they were rather intimidating, especially considering you were the only individual who hadn’t met them yet.  So you idled near the bar, pretending to focus on cleaning a glass that had already been sparkling as all customers had already been served, Eddie tending to his surprise guests, leaving no room for you in the equation.

“What are you doing here?”  Eddie asks, seemingly less than happy.

Each of his friend’s faces fall, no doubt taken back by the fact that they weren’t met with an elated friend they hadn’t seen for a while, instead they were met with his wrath that was more than likely supposed to be reserved for you but happened to slip through the cracks and leak at their feet.  He didn’t have a right to be upset with you, he’s the one who took it too far.  No sympathy was spared for him in your eyes.

“To see you!”  Flannel girl exclaims, hands gesturing wildly in the air.

“Do we smell or somethin’?”  The handsome one asks playfully, a smirk displayed on his face as he pokes Eddie’s shoulder.  “What’s got you so bent outta shape?”  

Eddie sighs, visually huffing out a breath as he controls his irritation.  An apologetic expression crosses his face and you only wish he had the guts to offer you the same look moments ago.  Even if he did, it didn't fix anything.  He still practically insinuated that you had been slutting around with a coworker that you had not once even hugged.  At most, you’d awkwardly side-hugged him a few times.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry.  Just, uh, just under a lot of pressure.”  Eddie rubs the back of his neck.  “Hi, and what are you doing here?”  He asks, a tad more friendly.

“Do I get a hug?”  The younger one asks with a shit-eating grin.  You almost laugh, almost.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, engulfing the boy in a bone-crushing hug, his palm smacking down on his back which only makes the boy grunt in protest.  Then, each of them receives a tight hug from him.

“It’s called a surprise, Munson.”  The supermodel chirps, her voice gentle and sincere.

At this, you don’t know why but you can feel your teeth grinding.  Your jaw tenses, fists balling up at your sides.  You don’t even try to pretend that you’re occupied with something, that you’re too busy to even notice the interaction.  And she notices.

“You must be Bambi.” 

You hate that she seems so kind, bright blue irises full of compassion tuning in on you.  How she knew the nickname Eddie had selected for you, you weren’t sure.  What you did know is that the name only felt right falling from his lips, no one else’s.  Politely correcting her with your actual name, you can only hope she picks up on the hint.

“Nancy Wheeler.”  She introduces herself, gingerly shaking a hand that you had extended toward her.

You could play nice.  Even as you will yourself to come down from your haze of rage, you can make nice.  These people had nothing to do with what Eddie had said minutes ago, they didn’t deserve to have your first impression of them tainted by the rotten words he spat at you.

“Steve.”  The handsome one brushes past Nancy, gracing you with warm eyes and a lopsided smile, shaking your hand gently.  You wouldn’t expect it from someone dressed so preppy.

It all becomes so overwhelming-

“I’m Robin!”  The other girl chirps in excitement, pushing Steve to the side to clasp her hand in yours.  She wore a handful of delicate rings, a contrast to the chunky ones you were used to Eddie sporting.

“Hey!”  Steve protests, offense written in every line of his face as he displays his disdain.

“Dustin Henderson!”  The younger boy shoves past both of them confidently, his hand shaking yours impressively.

“We have heard so much–”  Robin begins though she’s cut off by Steve lightly smacking a hand against her stomach.

So much personality bursts from each individual before you, not one of them the least bit shy as they continuously take over the conversation from one another.  Robin’s statement only begs the question…what have they heard?  Even further questions surface the more you think about it.  Had Eddie alerted them of your existence back when you first crashed into his peaceful life?  Maybe they’d heard all bad things, all things that painted you as some idiotic girl who cried at even the mention of a confrontation.

Among your silent panic, one question crawled to the forefront of your mind, clawing its way out of the millions of other haunting thoughts.  A question that you had no right to be asking, even if only in the solitude of your brain.

Was Nancy Eddie’s girlfriend?

~end~

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