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janeyseymour · 8 months ago

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Love Thy Neighbor- pt 11

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.

Summary: the aftermath of Jared's... lovely... reappearance in your life.

WC: ~2.4k

Ellie is all too excited as she eats her breakfast, wiggling with glee, as she tells you about how good she was for your girlfriend during church and how she was so surprised to see her father with you at the coffee shop.

You do your best to remain present with everything that your daughter is saying, but that’s proving to be hard when the ten minutes that Melissa requested for were up and she wasn’t knocking at your door. She was almost never late when she told you she would be to your apartment in a given amount of time. It’s also particularly hard to keep your focus on your daughter when your abdomen is absolutely on fire. You choose your eyes are a particularly bad cramp tears its way through your body, and when you open them Ellie is watching you curiously.

“Are you okay, Momma?”

You nod and smile at her with as much sincerity as you can muster up at this given time. “I’m okay, baby. Just bad cramps. You know how sometimes they like to sneak up on me.”

Your little girl nods in understanding, and you quietly pray that she isn’t also cursed with terrible PMS like you are. “Should I get Miss Mel?”

“It’s okay, hun,” you chuckle. “Momma can handle herself.”

“Cuddles will help?” Ellie suggests.

You roll your eyes at her suggestion. “Of course they will. Ellie girl cuddles always fix everything.”

“I know, Momma!” Your daughter’s eyes light up and she beams at you as though she had just figured out how to make pigs fly. She pulls you to the couch and forces you to recline back before she curls into your hold.

“Oh wait!” she pops back up and heads into the back hallway for a few seconds before you see her coming back out with your heating pad. She hands it to you with a shy smile.

You kiss her head softly, eyes welling with tears at her thoughtful consideration. “Thank you, sweet girl.”

You plug it in and press it to your stomach before she settles herself next to you again.

“I love you, Momma,” she whispers.

“I love you too, little girl,” you tell her. “I will always love you, no matter what. My sweet, strong girl.”

She grins at you toothily. “I know I telled Daddy Mel was my favoritest person in the world… but I think I lied.”

“Oh?” you look down at her.

“It’s you,” she says softly as she snuggles into your side before reaching for the remote and turning on the television.

“You’re my favoritest person in the whole world too, my little love bug,” you promise her with a kiss to her beautifully braided hair (thanks to Melissa).

Only once you’ve relaxed just a bit with the warmth from both the heating pad and your daughter does your body’s fight or flight response quit and you realize just how much it took out of you to confront your ex-husband. After only a few minutes of watching the Disney movie Ellie chose to watch, you end up dozing.

Dozing is a phrase to be used lightly, because when you wake up again, your little girl is no longer in your embrace, the heating pad has been switched out for a hot water bottle, and an entirely different Disney movie plays on your television than the one you had fallen asleep to.

You blearily open your eyes, and you can smell something on the stovetop that can only be a product of your girlfriend. Groaning as you stand and keeping the hot water bottle in your clutch, you make your way to the kitchen where Melissa has Ellie on her hip as she stirs whatever contents are in the pot.

You watch the two of them with soft and loving eyes for a few seconds before pulling out one of the barstools and making your presence known.

The redhead turns around at the sound. “Hey. When I came in you were asleep, and I knew El would be getting hungry soon.”

“I’m helping Mel make chicken noodle soup!” your daughter squeals from your girlfriend’s hip.

“You are,” Melissa kisses Ellie’s cheek before setting her down. “Why don’t you go grab the celery from my apartment, little miss?”

The little girl nods excitedly before racing off.

The woman shakes out her arm and cracks her hip. “I think I need to pull up a chair for her next time… she’s getting a little too big for me to cook and hold her at the same time.”

You chuckle softly at her. “Yeah. She’s growing up before my eyes.”

“How’re you feeling?” the redhead asks as she makes her way over to you.

“Like I’m being stabbed repeatedly in the uterus,” you tell her. “Thank you for the hot water bottle, by the way.”

She frowns. “You felt okay enough to go meet your husband though.”

“Ex-husband,” you correct.

“You still met him,” your girlfriend reminds you.

You sigh. “I did.”

“You lied to me,” she says dully, and you can hear the way that she’s trying to hide her hurt feelings.

“I didn’t lie to you, Mel,” you tell her. “I really don’t feel great.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you decided to respond? That you were meeting with him?” she asks, and you can tell she’s trying to keep her temper at bay.

You bite your lip. “Because I knew you would get all protective, and I can handle myself when it comes to him. Besides, I didn’t think that he would be such an ass… I was kind of hoping he would just hand me a check for the child support he owes me and we would go our separate ways.”

“Did he?”

You huff. “No. I told him that if I didn’t have the money in hand by the end of the month that I would get a lawyer. I was going to storm out when I ran into you two.”

Melissa just nods thoughtfully before Ellie comes running back into your apartment with the requested vegetable in hand. “Thank you, sweetheart,” your girlfriend smiles. “Great job. I think I have it from here because it’s just chopping up the celery and letting everything simmer, so why don’t you go play in your room while I take care of your momma?”

Your daughter beams at the praise and nods before raising her arms. Of course, your girlfriend obliges and lifts her onto her hip. Ellie presses a quick kiss to the redhead’s cheek and squeezes her gently before wiggling to get down again. She then comes to you and carefully winds her arms around you. And then she’s off giggling to herself about whatever make-believe game she was planning on playing.

Melissa chops and dices the celery quietly and deep in thought before throwing it into the pot.

You finally break the tension. “Mel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

She turns to you at that. She just shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Honey,” you sigh as you shuffle off of the barstool. You stumble slightly.

“Hey,” she catches you quickly. “Take it easy.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wrap an arm around her waist. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t mean to make you so angry at me that you needed time to yourself to calm down after we got home.”

She takes a deep breath as she guides you back to your chair. “Hun, I’m not gonna lie… I wasn’t pleased to see you out and about, especially with him.”

“I know,” you mumble.

“But I get why you did what you did,” Melissa tells you gently. “And I ain’t mad… not anymore.”

You sigh a breath of relief.

“I told you I needed ten minutes, and that ten turned into twenty while I found the ingredients to make you soup,” she lets you know. “I still came over, I’m still taking care of you because it’s clear you really aren’t feeling well… don’t think I didn’t miss the way you nearly doubled over in pain at the shop.”

You smile at her gently. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses you softly. Then she tells you, “If you need a lawyer to get the child support, I know a guy. Just let me know, babe.”

The next time Jared messages you, you tell Melissa immediately. You tell her so immediately in fact, that you accidentally interrupt her science lesson with the kids.

“Miss Y/N?” she raises a brow. “I am in the middle of teaching.”

“I know, I know,” you apologize. “But just…” you hand her your phone.

She glances at it before closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ll deal with this later, okay?”

You nod. “Sorry. Continue on with your lesson.”

At lunch, you settle down in the staff room while she heats up your lunches.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I guess take Ellie to the park today?” you shrug. “But come with me?”

She taps at her phone before groaning. “I have a meeting with Tyrone’s parents, but I’ll meet you there after?”

You end up walking down to the park with your daughter as she tells you all about the different things she had done today in first grade.

“I’m so glad you’re loving first grade, baby,” you smile down at her as she swings your hand with hers.

“I do,” she nods seriously. “But I do miss Mrs. Howard.”

“You still see Mrs. Howard all the time when she hangs out with Mel.”

‘Sn’t the same,” Ellie shrugs. And then when the two of you approach the park, she breaks out into the biggest grin at the sight of Jared.

“Daddy!” She drops your hand and runs for him. He lifts her up immediately with that sparkling smiles of his, and you catch up a few seconds later.

“Thanks for letting me have this one, babe,” he smirks at you.

You glare at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah,” Ellie pipes up. “Only Mel gets to call Momma that now.”

Jared looks to your daughter. “Oh?”

“Well, they are dating,” your daughter shrugs. Then she focuses her attention on the swings. “Push me on the swings?”

He takes her over immediately and gives her a big push on the playground equipment. Ellie giggles with glee the entire time. Then she runs off to go play with a few of the other kids that have made their way to the park after school, and you and your ex-husband find a bench to sit on while you watch her.

“So,” he looks you up and down.

You huff. “Screw off. I’m only doing this for my daughter.”

“Ours,” he corrects.

You fire out, “I’m still waiting for my child support check.”

“About that,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Jared, I wasn’t kidding when I told you that if I didn’t have the money in hand by the end of the month I would sue your sorry ass.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, damn. Where was this fire when we were married? It makes you way hotter.”

“Oh, eat my shit.” You turn your attention to where your daughter is running around playing tag. You can tell she’s tiring herself out- at least she’ll sleep well tonight.

You don’t bother to speak to Jared again until Ellie comes running over to you. She immediately climbs into your lap and snuggles up against you.

“Momma, I’m hungry.”

“Okay, baby,” you brush a few of the flyaways away from her face. “We’ll start heading home so Momma can cook dinner then.”

“Can Daddy come?”

As much as you want to tell your little girl that he is not welcome in your new living space, the hopeful look that she’s giving you is too much. “If he wants to come, he can.”

Ellie grins up at you tiredly, and you stand with her in your arms. You start to make the trek back to your apartment complex with as much gusto as you can, but your daughter is getting heavy, and the Midol you took earlier in the day is starting to wear off. The severity of your cramps are getting stronger again, and you have to fight to keep the pain out of your face.

“Here,” Jared says softly. “Let me take her.” He lifts Ellie off of you and continues to carry her the rest of the way to your apartment.

During your walk, you text Melissa that your time at the park got cut short because Ellie was hungry and to just meet you at your apartment- that Jared would be there, and you expect her to play nice.

She of course texts you back that she just got out of her meeting, that she makes no promises, and asks if he handed you the child support money yet. You reply with a thumbs down, and she tells you that she’ll get into contact with her guy on the way home.

You unlock your door and have him set a now sleeping Ellie on the couch before making your way into the kitchen to start dinner. Instinctively, he picks up a knife and helps you to start cutting up the vegetables you’ll need to make dinner.

It takes you back to when the two of you were married and cooking dinner together was considered your sacred time together. You wipe a tear away as you finish cutting up the tomato.

“Hey, are you really in that much pain right now?” Jared asks you, softly… tenderly.

You just nod. He doesn’t need to know that you’re in just as much emotional pain right now as you are in physical pain.

Your ex-husband takes you by the shoulder and guides you to one of the chairs at the table. He grabs the heating pad that you had left on the counter earlier that day and plugs it in before pressing it to your abdomen.

Just as he’s going to pull away, you hear the front door open again. You know it’s Melissa. And as she rounds the corner, Jared kisses you for her to see.

Tags (and lemme know if you wanna be included in this!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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renranram · 7 months ago

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can you pwease do some ted nivision / schlatt / charlie angst about them and reader having a stupid and petty argument that ensues over to recording where you can tell there's somethinf going on but can't tell whether its banter or not-

i just want some good classic argument angst 🤭

Pick who?

sfw !

fem!reader x ted x schlatt

rei writes angst for a while then failing miserably

@.giggleburger • 10 mins

guys y does the new episode seems off 😭??

#chucklesandwich #schlatt #ted #y/n #charlie

↳ 12 ⇆ 10 ♡ 301

@.numberoneschlaggotever • 6 mins

↳ replying to @.giggleburger

TRUE IT'S MORE DRIER N SAD, like no banter? no flirts? no jokes?

↳ 2 ⇆ 0 ♡ 3

@.milkthemilkman • 1 mins

↳ replying to @.giggleburger and @.numberoneschlaggotever

lmao it's either a bit or they actually fought

↳ 0 ⇆ 0 ♡ 1

you sigh out, reading recent tweets from their latest episode, it was two the three of them fought, you, ted and schlatt

the whole ordeal was schlatt and ted had been courting you, they've been trying to outdo eachother by giving you gifts, flirting with you, compliments and affection

during the past few weeks, you and ted had been hanging out, and of course schlatt noticed, he was blazing with jealous

so before a few minutes on your recording for the new episode for chuckle sandwich, he approaches you

" how's the dates? had fun without me? " schlatt states, glaring you as he crosses his arms

" jay? what are you talking about? " you reply, confused and shock at the sudden confrontation

" you've been going on dates right? you guys hang out like im also not into you " he added, " why can't you just decide already? "

" decide on what? " ted approaches the both of them as he rests his arm around on your shoulder, " oh, your boyfriend's here too " schlatt commented, his tone, snarky

" jay you're getting things wrong.. it's not like that " you try to explain, but ted accidentally interrupts you, " what like that? "

" i dont know, maybe she finally actually decides on who she likes? " schlatt retorts, glaring at ted's hand around you, " you can't just for her out to pick on both of us, she can have the time she needs " ted defends you with a sigh

" how fucking much more does she needs? it's been months, months of us going back and forth, aren't you tired ted? "

" schlatt, you do realize this is a huge deal right? you can't just suddenly confront her at topics like this " ted shakes his head, patting your back for comfort as schlatt pushes his hand off of you

" jay.. im sorry but this isn't just fair " you mumble, " fair? no, y/n, fucking make your decision, make me realize if all the things i did for you was worth it or no " schlatt continues

" schlatt, you're pressuring her " ted states, " im pressuring her to finally know the truth, does she likes me or you, that's just what i wanna know. "

" i.. i can't.. i cant decide right now " you mumble as ted rubs your shoulder but schlatt scoffs, " did sucking ted's dick feel that good? " schlatt blurts out

ted gasps, as you froze in your spot, flabbergasted and overwhelmed but then feeling anger as you hit a slap on his face, leaving a red mark

" you know what schlatt? maybe you're right, maybe... maybe the things you did for me weren't worth it " you mumble, teary eyed, " im sorry if i made you waste your time, you can fucking leave "

ted glares at schlatt, as he follows after you, leaving schlatt all by himself as the man comforts you

the whole argument caused the rest of the episode to be dry, cold and just.. not it, you avoided schlatt the whole episode, talking to only ted and the oblivious charlie

you groan out as you rolled on your bed, blaming yourself, maybe if you could've picked at that moment this wouldn't happen-

a knock interrupts your overthinking, you glanced at the clock, 11 pm, maybe your pizza had arrived? as you get off your bed, you slowly open the door revealing a teary eyed schlatt, a bouquet on his hand

" ... hi " he greets as you look away, " .... hi " you respond as he sighs out, " im.. im so fucking sorry " schlatt mutters

" i know.. i know i was impatient and so fucking jealous, i acted out my anger and im so fucking dumb to only realize that id hurt you " he states, " i should've waited, i should've never said those to you during our argument, y/n, i.. i fucking love you, im so.. im so fucking sorry "

your eyes widened, schlatt wasn't always the one to talk about his feelings, he'd rarely mention it, " it's alright.. if you.. you know.. wont let me have a chance anymore, i understand, im a fucking dick "

" but yeah.. i hope you forgive me " he mumbles, handling you the bouquet as you slowly face him, " .. jay.. im also.. uhm.. sorry for making you wait this long.. " you mutter, receiving the bouquet, " i understand why you'd suddenly confront me and.. say those things "

" it's fine.. if you dont want to chase after me anymore, i genuinely understand- " you were cut off by a hug, " no, im not letting that loser take you all by himself "

" this feels fucking cringey to say.. but i love you y/n, i dont care how long you'll love me back... or never love me back but that's just.. that's just what i wanna say, i fucking love you "

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt #schlatt fanfic #schlatt x reader #sleep deprived podcast #jschlatt x reader smut #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #ted nivison #ted nivison x you #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison x y/n #light angst

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chenfleur · 2 years ago

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of rainy nights and roses

summary. in the heat of the moment, jeonghan grows careless with his words. now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean.

pairing. idol!jeonghan x y/n ft soonyoung x oc genre. angst, fluff, comfort, est. relationship, jeonghan is an asshole like bro is MEAN disclaimers. this is quite literally just a fight. like a one-time fight. i have no clue why its nearly 6k words also jeonghan says a lot of 🅱️ig 🅱️oy words in this word count. 5.8k released. 01.01.2023 author's note. soonyoung's a W friend ps. happy new year! cheers 🍻

masterlist

The ink on the page turned from blurry outlines to clumps of black nonsense as drowsiness invades your senses. You stifle a yawn, gently putting down the book you were reading. The bright light forces you to squint as you turn on your phone, revealing the time in bold, white numbers. 12:43AM.

Jeonghan still wasn’t home yet. Strange, you think.

Don’t get it twisted—the ‘being late’ part was the farthest from strange, especially during comeback season. If he had come home any time before 10 PM, you’d be worried that Soonyoung had passed out and practice had to end early—because frankly, that’s the only inconvenience that could force that man to rest. It was admirable, how dedicated and passionate he was to his craft, though he could get quite antsy and irritated at times when things weren’t to his satisfaction.

The part that has you scratching your head was that around an hour ago, you had texted Seokmin.

seokminnie 🥹

(11:31PM) YOU: seokmin 😚😚

(11:31PM) YOU: when does today’s practice finish?

(11:37PM) SEOKMIN: practice just finished, noona~ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

The HYBE building was a mere five minute walk from your shared apartment. Unless he somehow lost a leg along the way, you highly doubt it takes Jeonghan an hour to walk short three blocks.

You throw a pitiful glance at the bowl of spicy noodles that stood lonesome on the marble kitchen island, already having gone cold long ago. A small sigh of disappointment leaves your lips as you decide you would just reheat it when he gets home. Again.

Clicking your phone shut, you let it fall beside you onto the velvet cushion with a muted thud and put your hands in your lap. You try your hardest to stay awake, but sleep triumphs over your willpower as you allow your eyelids to slowly flutter shut, succumbing to today’s built-up exhaustion.

Maybe, when you woke up, you'd be in the bed, rather than on the couch. The only sound you'd hear would be the distant singing of birds, and the tranquil inhales and exhales that came from the one next to you.

Instead, it’s the familiar melody of beeps that played from the front door’s keypad that wakes you from your light rest.

You lift your head at the disturbance, blinking your eyes a few times to rid them of their initial blurriness and adjust to the soft white lights of the apartment. Slowly, they focus in on the figure who trudged through the door, and closed it behind him with a soft click.

Your lips upturn into a small smile, though it falters when you notice the pure exhaustion that took over his typically angelic face. You see the way his shoulders were hunched, stiff, tense. The way strands of his platinum blond hair stuck to the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

He takes off his puffer jacket, hanging it up on the wooden coatrack before padding across the floor softly, trying his best not to make any noise. He halts as the two of you make eye contact.

“y/n,” he croaks out in a tired voice, “why are you up so late? You should be asleep.”

You don’t fail to catch the faint hints of annoyance and irritation that lace Jeonghan’s tone. It confuses you.

Though, you respond calmly. “I was just… waiting for you to get back.”

Secretly, Jeonghan rolls his eyes, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

You do notice.

A thick silence falls heavy over the room, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere—one that never usually exists between you and Jeonghan. Your eyes narrow at his attitude, though they never leave him, despite the fact that he was looking everywhere else—the hardwood floor, the kitchen, the grey walls—anywhere but you.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Jeonghan eventually murmurs, hands finding their way onto his waist.

You lean your head into your palm, “I’m sorry?”

“Stay up and wait for me.”

“Well, I wanted to.”

“Well, I’m telling you next time, don’t.” he suddenly snaps, raising his voice slightly. He finally moves from his spot, walking towards the bedroom, not sparing a glance at you.

Your eyes widen at the way he mocked you, hurt flashing through them. Hastily, you push yourself up from the couch and follow behind him. Though you feel an unfamiliar sense of fear, you continue to ask him questions. “Jeonghan- why are you back so late? Seokmin said practice ended an hour ago.”

“Got caught up. Soonyoung’s been moody,” he answers bluntly, before disappearing into the bathroom. Your head tilts in confusion at his answer—it made no sense.

Why is he like this? Did I provoke him? you think to yourself as you slowly climb into the bed. Your brain clouds with possibilities as to why Jeonghan was so ticked, but you couldn’t think of a plausible explanation. A small groan leaves your lips as you drag your hands across your face, battling exhaustion.

Nonetheless, you continue to wait for him to come out. Maybe then, you’d get a bit of reasoning for his poor mood.

The bathroom door slides open and Jeonghan steps out. You look at him expectantly, but he still doesn’t meet your gaze. He simply slips under the covers on his side of the bed without even acknowledging you. Your eyes trail as he did so, eventually landing on his back.

It causes a shiver to run down your spine, and a deep frown to tug at the corner of your lips. Jeonghan had never faced his back to you.

This is new. And cold. And distant.

“How… how was work today?” You quietly speak, daring to break the silence.

“Good,” he murmurs back, voice muffled from the duvet. He still didn’t face you.

“Jeonghan, can you please look at me? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, y/n. I’m just tired.”

You purse your lips, pausing for a moment, seriously debating whether to say your next words—

“Jeonghan, you know it’s not good to pent up your emotions-”

—atrocious mistake.

“God, y/n!” Jeonghan suddenly roars, throwing the duvet off his torso. You were startled by his sudden outburst, shutting your eyes instinctively. When you open them, you see that he had turned so he was now lying on his back. Staring straight at you.

It was the first time you saw his eyes that night. Earlier, you longed for him to look at you just once.

Now, you no longer wish you had ever met Yoon Jeonghan’s gaze.

What you saw frightened you.

His eyes, his big, round eyes—the ones that have always been a rich, saccharine, chocolate brown; that held golden specks and canopies of stars in them whenever he looked at you—were hooded. Hooded with lightning, with terror, with scorn.

“y/n, I’ve had a fucking awful day. I’d love to be able to get some sleep—but guess what? You’re making it fucking difficult,” he spat coldly.

You feel your chest ache, you could’ve never believed Jeonghan was capable of speaking such words to you—

“Jeonghan-”

“Could you please, just this once, shut up? I can’t deal with everything going on and deal with your bullshit. You just, don’t do anything other than stress me out. You're useless.”

—and he just keeps going, you feel yourself shrinking by the second—

“Can you please calm down-”

“Fucking hell, next time I’m staying at the dorms. I can’t deal with your stupid nagging. Who am I dating- my mom?”

—he just keeps fanning the flames—

“But-”

“GOD, JUST SHUT UP! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

—until they couldn’t grow any bigger.

BOOM.

The sky is angry. Jeonghan is angry. Fuck, why is everyone so angry?

Your brain hasn’t even processed the venom that dripped off of Jeonghan’s tongue—but your heart has.

You feel like you had been kicked in the stomach. A familiar stinging sensation in your nose makes itself painfully known. It’s almost poetic how as heavy rain begins to pelt against the apartment’s window panes, scalding, hot tears begin to stream down your face.

You swing your legs over your edge of the bed, not daring to face him again. The tears, they don’t stop flowing no matter how much you wipe at them with the pads of your fingers—they just keep coming, racing to drip down your chin in humiliation. A sharp inhale comes from you, the sound piercing the air, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth in a pathetic attempt to prevent any more from coming out. You rashly card a hand through your hair, trying to regulate your heaving.

Your head is spinning. The rain doesn’t ease—the sounds of the storm roaring in your ears. Your back is faced to him, eyes shut so tightly you could see splashes of colours and pixels. It’s too loud for you to hear the gasp that leaves Jeonghan’s lips, nor could you see the way his face morphs from exasperation to shock.

Jeonghan is mortified.

He doesn’t know where all of that came from. All he knows is that he had lashed it all out on you, that he didn’t mean it, and that you didn’t deserve any of it. He let every single built-up anxiety and frustration out in brutal, crashing waves, onto the one person who deserved it the least.

He’s a monster.

“y/n-” he rasps, reaching out to touch your waist.

You stand up as soon as you feel his fingers brush against you, flinching away from his touch. His sudden change in demeanor startled you, leaving you sensitive and distrustful.

The entire city could hear Jeonghan’s heart drop and shatter into a million pieces.

“Oh my god, y/n-” his eyes well up with his own tears. “-please, don’t be afraid. Fuck, please, please, don’t be afraid,” he whispers, desperation so agonizingly evident in his voice.

After a few moments of heart-wrenching silence, you exhale slowly and finally turn around to look at Jeonghan. A ghost of a smile creeps at your lips as you look at him. His long, soft, wispy eyelashes. His pale, glowy skin. His heart-shaped lips. They all framed his face perfectly.

Even while crying, he was pretty.

But, your pained eyes tell him how you really feel.

“Wait, y/n-”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Jeonghan.”

“No, angel, please-”

Without another word, you walk out of the bedroom and close the door, leaving him in the room alone. Jeonghan put his head in his hands, dragging them down his face harshly.

You’re so fucking stupid, you’re so fucking stupid, you’re so fucking stupid- how are you going to make this up to her-

Click.

Jolting up at the sound, Jeonghan nervously looks towards the closed bedroom door. Is she not just in the living ro-

SLAM.

“Oh my god.” he whispers.

Jeonghan hurriedly pushes himself out of bed, his breathing becoming rushed and panicked, his vision growing cloudy. There’s a knot in his throat, making him suffocate on the repulsiveness of his own actions.

He runs out of the room, stumbling into the living room. There’s no sign of you—just an empty, lifeless apartment.

He finally notices the untouched bowl of food on the kitchen counter. It stood there, staring at him in shame. A weak wince escapes him at the thought of you cooking it for him.

The whole apartment was screaming at him. You hurt her.

Jeonghan can feel his lip start to quiver, his heartbeat ringing in his ears. An angry clap of lightning resounded around him—vibrating through each limb and fiber of his being, stripping away at every little fragment of composure he had left, until it all came crashing down.

He doesn’t have a single coherent thought other than she left.

She’s gone.

mieun 🤬

(1:06AM) YOU: mieun

(1:06AM) YOU: can i come over?

(1:07AM) MIEUN: this late?

(1:07AM) YOU: yeah

(1:07AM) MIEUN: ofc you can

(1:07AM) MIEUN: just letting you know soonyoung’s staying the night

(1:08AM) YOU: oh please he’s seen me slip and trip infront of the whole cafeteria, he can deal with me crying

(1:08AM) YOU: just don’t eat each others faces infront of me

(1:08AM) MIEUN: YOU’RE CRYING?

(1:08AM) MIEUN: WHICH FATHERLESS INCEL DO I HAVE TO PUNT ACROSS THE UNIVERSE ?????

It only takes two knocks for the wooden door to swing open and reveal your best friend, who was clad in silk pajamas and had a face painted with worry; an expression very different from her typical bold, fiery and lively personality.

“y/n!” Mieun cries, opening her arms. You fall into them, securing your own arms around her waist and giving her a warm, tight hug.

The two of you separate after a moment, the brunette ushering you inside of her apartment. A few things had changed since you’d last been over, you notice—a new painting had been hung up in the foyer, the TV was about twice the size of the old one, and a distinctively larger pair of black Balenciaga shoes stood among the row of pastel sneakers and heels.

The scent of ramen wafts around the entire home, making you go “ah” at the delicious, savoury smell.

“Late night date at home?” You ask, bending down to take off your shoes.

“Pfft, Soonyoung heard you were crying and ran into the kitchen to make the only thing he’s actually capable of making,” she jokingly rolls her eyes.

“y/n?”

You look towards the direction of the voice, meeting the eyes of Soonyoung, who had popped his head of jet black hair out of the kitchen to greet you. A big smile immediately breaks out on his face.

“Hi, Soonyoung,” you greet back, offering a small wave.

Mieun tugs at your sleeve. “He should be done with the food soon. Go sit on the couch, and get comfortable because you-” she says, tapping your cheek, “-are going to tell us what happened.” You laugh, nodding your head.

After putting away your shoes and umbrella, you make your way over to the big leather couch in the middle of the living room. A half-finished Netflix movie plays quietly on the TV screen. A slight pang of guilt hits you—you must’ve interrupted their alone time.

“Food’s done!” Soonyoung yells, emerging from the kitchen with a metal pot and three Coke Zeroes in his hands, a trail of steam following him as he enters the living room. You give a small clap, eyes lighting up at the sight of the food. Soonyoung leans down, placing a hot mat before gently setting the pot down onto the coffee table. Mieun, who had been following behind her boyfriend, sets down bowls and chopsticks. Eventually, the three of you settle down. You and Mieun sit on the couch, while Soonyoung sits on the carpet, facing you two.

“So,” Mieun begins, cracking open her drink. “care to explain- Soonyoung, where do you keep getting these fucking Cokes? There’s a goddamn crate in my kitchen,” she suddenly exclaims, staring at the can in her hand. You snort, clasping a hand over your mouth while you try not to choke.

“Jihoon’s studio is like a fucking warehouse,” he mutters. “I’m saving my friend from literal heart disease.”

Mieun pauses for a moment, before shrugging and taking a sip. “So, y/n. Care to explain why you showed up to my apartment at-” she pauses, checking her phone, “1:29 AM?”

You nod your head while chewing, wiping your mouth before you begin—

—but nothing comes out.

Jeonghan.

God, you almost forgot what he said. His words echo through your ears.

Was he asleep now?

Did he just go to sleep, without a bother in the world?

“y/n?”

You snap out of your daze, looking around aimlessly. Mieun and Soonyoung were both staring at you with furrowed brows and concerned eyes. You notice that your arms had gone limp—the bowl of noodles and metal chopsticks that were close to your mouth before were now resting in your lap.

“Give me a name,” Mieun says through her teeth, a glower on her face and an evident clench in her jaw. Your eyes widen, quickly placing your hand on her arm to get her to relax.

“Yeah, who is it? I’ll make them eat my fist,” Soonyoung adds, anger flashing in his eyes.

You let out a sad laugh at his statement. “I doubt you’ll want to do that to Jeonghan, Soon.”

An immediate blanket of silence falls over the room. Soonyoung’s rigid grip on his chopsticks grows loose, his expression immediately dropping. His lips part slightly in shock as realization strikes him.

On the contrary, Mieun seems to have gotten even angrier.

“Jeonghan?” She seethes. Slamming her bowl of noodles onto the coffee table, she stares into your eyes with pure fury. “The one who’s supposed to be in love with you? He hurt you?”

“It… surprised me too..” you mumble, eyes downcast.

“Mieun, let her finish explaining,” Soonyoung says, leaning back onto his hands, an unreadable expression on his face.

The said girl scoffs, turning to scowl at her boyfriend. “Oh, so you’re suddenly going to defend him just because he’s your member? That’s real rich of yo-”

“Mieun,” Soonyoung warns sternly, eyes boring into her.

Mieun falters, slowly backing down and leaning back against the couch. She crosses her arms infront of her chest and looks over at you, silently telling you to continue.

Watching the two of them solemnly, you shakily exhale.

“God, that fucking idiot!”

You wince at Mieun’s burst of outrage, handing her her beverage. “Drink,” you say quietly, “and calm down. I’m okay, really.”

You bring your hand up to your cheek, feeling cold, dried tear stains. You hadn’t noticed that you started crying again—but, you do feel a bit overwhelmed from retelling what Jeonghan had said to you, and how genuinely terrifying it all was.

“Oh, so I’m the moody one,” you hear Soonyoung mutter under his breath. You turn to stare at him, puzzled. “Sorry?”

“Jeonghan hyung’s been in a piss mood all day. He even snapped at the choreographer when he couldn’t pick up a move properly,” he scoffs. “If I was the one who was being a dick the whole day, we would still be in the practice room right now.”

You retreat in on yourself a little, head hanging low.

God, he looked exhausted as soon as he walked through the door. I knew he was tired—why did I just badger him with questions and push him to talk? All it did was cause this situation-

“Hey, y/n- look at me.”

You slowly raise your head, meeting Soonyoung’s soft gaze. “Don’t blame yourself.” he begins, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s probably because of the comeback soon. Think about it—it’s been what, nine months? Since we’ve dropped an album. Our fans have been waiting for a long time, and trust me when I say the pressure has gotten to every single one of us. Plus, we’re promoting a lot in Japan this time of year, and he’s probably anxious because he’s got this, like, cult following there. I think he’s also got a few solo activities? He’s never really done those before…” he trails off, looking to the side in thought. “Anyways, my point is that there’s a lot of different things that factor into why he’s being an ass. Just know that they’re all out of your control.”

“Yeah,” you hear Mieun say, making you turn to face her. “While I don’t think any of those are an excuse for him to treat you like trash…” she murmurs, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “They’re all out of your control.”

You beam, eyes crinkling as your heart swells with sheer gratitude. You feel fresh tears pool at your waterlines, making you press your palms against your eyes. “God, you guys are just…so fucking cool. And such great friends,” you say, letting out a breathy laugh.

The two of them laugh loudly, Mieun handing you a tissue while rolling her eyes playfully. “Yeah, you big baby. We know. And also, you’re a much better person than I am. If Soonyoung said he hated me, I would’ve castrated him by now,” she says, making you shake with laughter as you wipe at your nose and mouth.

Soonyoung feigns offense, scoffing, “As if. They mean too much to you.”

“Oh, fucking gross!” You groan, covering your face in disgust. Soonyoung only snickers, throwing his shocked girlfriend a teasing wink.

“Anyways,” the girl shivers before turning to face you again. “since you will be staying the night, aka I’m not letting you go back to him, I’ll go get you a pair of clothes to change into. Soonyoung can sleep on the couch tonight-”

“Pardon?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Mieun, don’t do that to him. I’m fine with the couch-” you get cut off by the girl vigorously shaking her head in objection.

“No, I won’t be having any of that. He’s not the one who just got absolute shit from his boyfriend,” she replies firmly, her gaze fierce with protection.

Soonyoung whines loudly. “Babe, you literally have a guest bedroom-”

“That room has not been touched since Mingyu passed out drunk in there. It is dingy and cold and lonely. y/n does not deserve that.”

“So you’re going to make your boyfriend sleep on the couch-”

“Oh, please. Like you’ve never slept there before. Anyways, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom drawer, a spare towel on the counter rack, and-”

DING-DONG.

The sound of the doorbell resonates throughout the whole apartment, bouncing off each wall. It causes all of you to freeze.

“... and apparently a spare murderer too,” Mieun murmurs, slowly setting down her drink. She stands up from her spot on the couch, flattening out the wrinkles in her clothes before eyeing the front door.

“Babe, sit down.” Soonyoung mutters, also standing up and staring towards the foyer with watchful eyes.

“You sit down. It’s probably just my delivery package-”

“No.” Soonyoung doesn’t waver, grabbing his girlfriend by the arm and softly pushing her down back into her spot. “It’s too dangerous, Mieun. I’ll go.” he says protectively, letting go of his grip on her and making his way towards the door.

The girl stares at him defiantly for a moment, before letting out a sigh, her whole body visibly untensing. “Okay,” she whispers meekly, closing her eyes.

You had been biting at the inside of your cheek, staring between the two nervously. Reaching out for Mieun’s suddenly deflated figure, you wrap an arm around her, letting her rest her head on your shoulder.

“Tired?” you ask, eyes scanning over your friend. Feeling her nod her head against the fabric of your sweater, you can’t help but let out a sigh. “Me too.” you mumble in agreement.

Two silent breaths later, you speak again. “Sorry for crashing your date, by the way.” you mutter apologetically.

The girl on your shoulder shakes her head firmly. “Don’t apologize. I get way more opportunities to love Soonyoung than I get to help you when you’re hurt,” she says earnestly. Her words make you feel endlessly warm, your eyes glistening as an appreciative smile graces your lips.

Mieun sighs contentedly. “Speaking of Soonyoung- what’s taking him so long?”

What was taking Soonyoung so long to get a delivery package?

You twist your head over the back of the couch, trying your best to peek around the corner of the wall that obscured your vision. It was obvious that he was talking, a conversation very apparently happening; but, they were too far away to be anything clearer than static, stifled voices. You figure Mieun bought something high-value that required a signature.

Finally, Soonyoung’s voice becomes more coherent, allowing you to catch a little of what he was sayi-

“Listen, hyung. I don’t think you should be here right now.”

The other voice had gotten louder too-

“Please, Soonyoung-”

The air around you suddenly feels like it had dropped several degrees. You feel it again—every unstable emotion that you had managed to suppress since you left your apartment was getting thrown back into the equation like they were never even gone. He was here, at two in the morning, you didn’t know if he was here because he cared, but he didn’t just go to sleep—

“Please, I just need to see her once, I need to hear her voice, know she’s safe-”

—and he sounds just as broken as you are.

You feel Mieun bolt up out of your grasp, causing you to wince as you desperately try to bring her down again. But, she’s too fast; her whole body rattling as hot, white fury possesses her being. You watch her round the corner and disappear. A small, delicate moment of peace passes before a fuming shout penetrated the air.

“YOU HAVE A LOT OF FUCKING NERVE TO SHOW UP HERE!”

At this point, the floodgates had opened and there was no shutting them; you were in no different position than you were an hour ago, when Jeonghan took your fragile heart and smashed it against a brick wall. The sound of your friends yelling, the sound of his pleading voice—it was overwhelming your senses and thoughts.

Through your blurred vision, you see a tall figure round the corner again. “y/n?”

You take in a sharp inhale. “S-soonyoung?”

“Yeah. It’s just me, y/n. Hey, breathe.” Soonyoung shushes, slowly sitting down next you on the couch.

He picks a tissue from the tissue box, bringing it up to your face and gently wiping away the teardrops that glided down your face. Mieun’s voice (you notice a lack of variety among the voices—Mieun is presumably still berating Jeonghan, not letting him get a single sentence in.) has grown much more hushed.

“Please get Mieun to stop yelling at Jeonghan,” you whisper, shutting your eyes tightly and putting your head into your hands. You feel Soonyoung wrap a comforting arm around your small, shaking frame. “I will. She just needs to get it all out of her system…” he mumbles, trailing off.

After several deep breaths and aggressive eye-rubbing, you finally rise from your hunched position. You were going to resolve whatever happened tonight, right here, right now.

“I'm going to talk to him.” your tone is scratchy and meek, but still firm.

Soonyoung nods, gently helping you up. His arm remains around your shoulders as the two of you walk to the foyer.

Rounding the corner, you take a deep breath. A taller, familiar head of platinum blonde hair peaks out over your friend’s head. When he doesn’t notice you at a distance behind her, you find yourself peeling away from Soonyoung, mindlessly taking steps closer.

“I’ll leave, I swear. Can you please just give her this? And promise me she’ll be safe?”

Mieun snatches the thing out of Jeonghan’s grip, glowering up at him. “She’s perfectly fine here. Now leave,” she snaps, reaching for the doorknob, ready to slam it in his face.

“Wait.”

Your friend spins around, expression morphing from annoyance to surprise. Jeonghan’s gaze lifts from the girl in front of him, realizing you were standing there.

Jeonghan can feel himself grow dizzy—his body tensing, his pulse in his ears and fingertips. You were here, you were safe, were you going to tell him to leave? Or—

Mieun’s furrows her eyebrows. “y/n, I don’t think-”

“Mieun, come here.” The girl whips her head towards Soonyoung, who softly ushered her to step away from the door. She pauses for a moment, before handing back the thing to Jeonghan and throwing him one last grimace. Soonyoung grabs onto her arm, pulling her into his hold.

Now, you’re face to face with Jeonghan.

The first thing you notice is that he’s wet. His hair is damp and tousled, and he’s slightly shivering. His clothes are a shade darker than they normally were, and they stuck to his body like glue. Your eyes dart around his face, drinking him in. His eyes are bloodshot red, and his lips look like they’ve been chewed at.

“Did you run in the rain?” you ask, frowning.

Jeonghan’s breath hitches, your quiet, weak voice sounding suddenly so loud to him. “I… I couldn’t just let you leave like that,” he says nervously, eyes staying trained on your expression for even the most minor change.

A silence falls between the two of you. Jeonghan didn’t want to scare you again, instead opting to just take a step backward and offering what he had brought.

“I-I brought you this…” he mutters.

Your gaze finally breaks away from his face, looking down. He held out a small bouquet of crimson red roses, wrapped in silk pink paper and tied with a small, messy ribbon. The petals were slightly crimped and the paper had torn in some areas, but they were still beautiful.

Just like when we first started going out. A delicate smile blossoms on your face at the sweet gesture. You gently take it from him, turning it around in your hands before looking back up at him. "Thank you. Where did you get these from?"

"I-I ran- I ran to the convenience store. Sorry, they're a bit ruined."

You shake your head, eyes softening. "No, no. They're amazing."

Your smile tugs down into a frown as you notice the way he had taken another step backward, and his head hung low. His eyes are closed, lips tightly pursed together.

“Jeonghan…” you whisper, but he still doesn’t move, only screwing his eyes shut harder.

He only moves when he feels a gentle tug on his sleeve, letting himself be pulled forward until he limply fell into your embrace.

Above all the hurt and fear you felt, you were understanding. It wouldn't have been possible to make it this far in a relationship with a celebrity if you weren't.

You let him fall into your arms because you can tell he didn't mean it.

Your arms wrap around his torso instinctively, connecting around his back. After a small moment of hesitation, he wraps his own arms around your shoulders, his grip growing tighter the more time passed.

Even though his clothes were damp, even though he was shivering—an immediate warmth engulfed you as soon as you pulled him into your arms. Jeonghan is warm—he is comfort, he is home.

Your heart cracks as he buries himself into your shoulder and the fabric of your sweater immediately grows wet. The sound of sharp, uncontrollable intakes of breath leaves him, making you sigh and bring a hand up to gently card through the locks of his hair.

Feeling a small pull at your sleeve, turning your head around slightly to see Mieun stepping forward, taking the bouquet of flowers from your hands. You give her a small nod, handing it to her before focusing your attention back on Jeonghan.

“I’m not leaving, Han.”

The sound of your voice makes him sob harder. He hugs you impossibly closer, like if he were to loosen his grip, you’d vanish. The feeling of him pressing you against his body makes you purse your own lips together and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’m not leaving. You’re okay, we’re okay.”

Slowly, you pull away, keeping a hand on him to reassure him. You rub his arm soothingly, urging him to look at you.

Jeonghan huffs, looking at you miserably before words began tumbling out of his mouth. “God, y/n. y/n, I’m so fucking sorry, I can’t even-” he can’t even finish his sentence before another shaky sob falls from his lips. “I’m such a fucking asshole. You’re so good to me and all I do is treat you like shit-”

“Jeonghan, Jeonghan.” you frantically say, cutting him off. “That is not all you do. Don’t say that about yourself, it’s not true.”

“y/n, no. I fucking- screamed at you- for what? For staying up and waiting for me to come home? For asking about my day and being concerned about me? You even made me food, for crying out loud- and all I do is treat you terribly. Say ugly things when you only deserve to hear nice ones. Make you feel- make you feel like you’re a bother to me. But you’re not, fuck, you could never be.” His voice breaks at the end, echoing around you.

“So, you don’t hate me?”

Jeonghan crumbles, his old words biting at him like a venomous snake. All he does is clench his fists harder.

“Angel,” he breathes out, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

After recollecting himself, he looks down at you again. “Of course I don’t hate you. Fuck, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hated someone as sweet, caring, and incredible as you. I know- I know I treat you like you’re unimportant to me, but you need to believe me when I say that you’re the most important thing to me. You are me. You make me, me.”

Jeonghan notices a single tear that glided down your face. He shoots his hand up instinctively, about to wipe it away, but he stops himself at the last second and lets it fall to his side. You see the action and feel your heart lurch at his hesitance.

He’s scared to touch you.

Gently reaching for his hand, you bring it up and settle it on your cheek. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes.

“But, I scared you...”

You shake your head vigorously. “You’re the one person I could never be scared of. You make me feel safe, loved.”

Slowly, you let go, and his hand stays there, cupping your face. His thumb delicately brushes the skin underneath your eyes, wiping away the tears that fell.

“I made you cry. How could I make you cry, angel? How could I do such a thing?” he whispers, lip quivering.

“I’m okay, Jeonghan. We all have our off days, and while what you said did hurt me, I’m okay. I forgive you,” you respond. “But, if you’re feeling upset, you should talk to someone about it. The boys are here for you. I’m here for you.”

Jeonghan melts, staring at you momentarily before gently tugging you back into his embrace.

“You’re- you’re so good to me…” he says with a sniffle, carding his fingers through your hair.

“I’m good to you because you’re good, Han. You’re good, and you shouldn’t believe otherwise,” you say genuinely, rocking him back and forth.

A brief moment of peace passes before a small mumble leaves Jeonghan’s lips.

“Please come home.”

It’s so quiet that you can barely hear him—but you do, and you nod, even though you were already home.

Home is wherever Jeonghan was.

3K notes · View notes

potato-lord-but-not · 9 months ago

Note

“There’s something aesthetically pleasing about the word noon. Its palindromic spelling feels appropriate for the middle of the day, when the sun is directly overhead and the hands on the clock are pointed upward in a straight line. It’s even spelled with letters found more or less in the middle of the alphabet.” (“What Time Is…” par. 1)

Perhaps unfortunately for my argument, this article goes on to explain how the word ‘noon’ originally referred to the ninth hour of the day, that of course being 3 o’clock; because the sun and with it the people rose at six. It is derived from the Latin word for ‘ninth’, ‘nonus’. The word’s meaning apparently shifted during the twelfth century, because of the prayers of monastic orders. The second of three daily prayers would occur at noon, and the time of this prayer eventually became earlier, landing at twelve. This is believed to have been so the monks could break their fast sooner. Of course, this is not universally agreed upon and other theories include shifts in seasonal daylit hours, and European Medieval people’s struggles to have accurate timekeeping.

None of my sources suggest that three o’clock was considered the middle of the day at any point in time, therefore I would like to argue that the word noon did not originally refer to the middle of the day, but eventually, when it was given to the time that is more deserving of that title, came to do so. I believe that the denotation “middle of the day” is something that is both scientifically and culturally awarded, and that for whatever reason the people (however unknowingly) creating the Old/Middle English language believed twelve o’clock to be so. If you wish to create your own cultural norms, by all means go ahead, just remember that the word culture refers to a group, so you’ll need to find some people who agree with you. (Which, hey, maybe you already have, maybe most people agree with you and I’m just being pedantic.)

Anyways um hi, sorry about this, I did in fact make a tumblr account solely to send you this, because the idea of doing so was too funny to me to not. Also, I just discovered that the Oxford English Dictionary website has a pay wall these days and I am DEVASTATED I tell you, devastated. But yeah, I’ll stop, have a good weekend, I love you, I hope your morning spent on public transit hasn’t been too boring.

Works Cited

“Culture Definition & Meaning.” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/culture. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“Noon (n.).” Online Etymology Dictionary, www.etymonline.com/word/noon. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

“What Time Is ‘Noon’?” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, www.merriam-webster.com/wordplay/noon-history-ninth-prayer-hour-nones. Accessed 2 Mar. 2024.

OFC you’re leaving citations on A TUMBLR ASK OH MY GODDD anyway I do believe I’m starting a cultural shift because everyone I’ve asked so far has NOT said mid-day is noon they’ve ranged from 11-1 to 1-2 (albeit a bit earlier than my 2-3 answer but STILL)

Yknow what fuck it let’s do a poll bb

anyywayyyy everyone say hi to my girlfrienddd give them a nice warm welcome to tumblr <3

#HIII GIRLFRIENDDDD HIIIII #I love you toooo #getting on the metra rn wish me luck <33 #ask #polls but not #starry eyed

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dawnoftime22 · 2 months ago

Text

guitar session.

| T.S

Warnings: Tay being a little sick, R being the teensiest lonely/anxious but getting reassurance, R singing and playing guitar

Summary: One day, Taylor gets home and finds a heartwarming surprise waiting for her in the music room. But even with the sweet surprise, she gets concerned for you of your time without her.

Word Count: 3.1k

Category: fluff! hurt/comfort(?)

A/N: parts of this were made with this is me trying on repeat so that may be why you can expect a little bit of sadness here and there, but, enjoy lovelies<3

| Started on 27/10/2023, 2:59 PM |

| Finished on 29/08/2024, 11:46 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

"Even if something thats good still ends up coming with the bearing of bad news, know that its okay to relieve yourself of it and be sad or anxious, or anything, even just a little bit of emotion aside from happiness. Don't keep it all in."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was a warm cozy day as you sat in your home, feeling awfully bored. The house was quiet and empty aside from the cats, and all you've been doing is sitting at the couch within the living room.

You had changed spots, changed positions, and tried different things; watching tv, or reading a book, but it all seemed to turn out as gray looking as the clouds that started to loom outside your window.

It was almost lonely, to say the least.

A sigh escapes your mouth as you stared at the ceiling. But upon decision, you start to get up, moving with a slow pace to get your feet back on the floor, although getting your vision blacked out by dizziness when you stand anyway.

You blink the fuzziness away before you walk, taking in a breath to steady yourself. Since there were signs of an oncoming storm, with there not even showing a glimpse of the sunset through the sky, you had to go through the house within a bit of darkness.

The lights click on with a flick of the light switches you pass by, and you close the curtains along with them too. You were doing the usual nighttime routine, although, for now, without your favorite blonde.

You were about to go in the last room when you realize it was the music room, and you pause in your tracks. A part of you wished that there were sounds of Taylor's singing, the gentle strum of her guitar, or her piano as you stood by, but there was nothing but the rain pattering outside, and a lightning striking that caused you to jump.

Exhaling a breath, you shook your head, holding your heart slightly. Your feet brings you to the door, and your hand reaches up to turn on another light, this one orange and dim; a perfect warm room for her to make her music in.

A smile raises up on your face as you walked in, taking in the sighting. Her guitar was propped up against the couch, left there by her last session.

You could remember it clearly. She was sat, not on the couch, but on the floor. It was in the middle of the night, up until you appeared at the doorway of the room.

She had left it there and stood up, going towards you in concern of whether she had awoken you, but you were only missing her from the cold sheets. And now you were missing her as her presence wasn't here.

It was only last night, and you couldn't shake off how real her love felt in the way she had instantly got up, checking on you and giving you the embrace of her arms. You didn't mind the night session much really, you even spent a little time in this room with her until she invited you back to the bedroom.

Your fingers brush over the head of the guitar, feeling the dips and edges until you reach the tuning pegs. But of course you don't mess with them. There were fingerprints on the wood, ones only being Taylor's.

The piano was over just beside you, and your gaze lingered on it for a moment, but then you pick up the guitar.

You made sure to handle it carefully as you sat down on the couch, putting one of your hands over the fretboard and the other on the guitar's body.

As Taylor had played many times before you with this exact guitar, you try strumming down with your thumb. The strings echoes its sound easily, although a wince lightly crosses your face when you accidentally hit some of the metal strings with your nails rather than your skin, eliciting a sharper noise rather than the sound of raw skin.

You tested it and did some light playing for a few moments before you soon pull out your phone, starting to search up guitar tutorials on the internet. It didn't take long for you to end up stumbling upon one of your girlfriend's songs, and your eyes brighten at the finding.

The video plays, and the chords were onscreen. You follow it, needing to pause every couple of minutes so you can follow along without difficulty.

The pads of your fingers were marked with several lines of the guitar strings whenever you lifted them off, having pressed on them and getting the smallest sting, but you tried to not mind it.

Once you've got the hang of the song's playthrough with the guitar, you finally try to add some singing to it, going slower as it was harder to play and sing at the same time.

The quiet room was filled by only your voice and the strumming of the guitar, and you were gradually getting used to the rhythm, multitasking the use of both your voice and your fingers on the fretboard.

The couch started to get more uncomfortable, so you decide to sit on the floor, your comfort levels returning back as your back meets the couch. Taylor was right all this time. And to think you had questioned her all along whenever you saw her sitting on the floor.

Time passes by, and even the rain had started to calm down a little, letting you take over the noise in the atmosphere-- although the crickets were still keeping with their own singing outside.

You hadn't even noticed the sound of a car or the front door of the house opening as you practiced...

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

The blonde gently closes the door, clicking the lock back to keeping security of your shared home. Just for a moment, she leans back against the door, closing her eyes and relishing in the warm feeling of home.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out as a sigh of relief, opening her eyes once more. She was finally home, back to where she's wanted to be at all day long. Her shoes and socks were quietly slid off from her now aching feet, and her keys rattle slightly as she gently puts them off to a nearby table.

Taylor's gaze move over to the living room space and the kitchen, but upon seeing nothing, she decides to simply go upstairs instead, glancing back at the couch to make sure you weren't hidden, laid down there.

Her hair, and, nearly her entire being was wet from the rain outside, so all she wanted really, was a shower and a warm cuddle with you.

But she stops right at the last step of the stairs, a distinct sound catching her ears. Her eyebrows furrow, and she grows wary, but she goes up fully to the second floor, getting closer to where the noise was coming from.

"But you're just so cool, run your hands through your hair"

"Absentmindedly makin' me want you!"

She could just barely identify it, a voice and guitar strumming-- her mind was starting to think she could perhaps even be imagining things. She's been singing the whole day, so it would only make sense.

When she steps closer and closer, the soft melody was getting even clearer. It was coming from the music room, and she stares at it, seeing that the door was wide open and the lights were on.

Her heart beats a little faster in anticipation of what scene might greet her, but a small smile starts to slowly grow on her face. She can recognize that it was your voice.

When she finally arrived to the doorway, she sees you.

There you were, in the most cozy and peaceful form, sitting on the floor like she usually does. She guessed you had gotten just as uncomfortable as she was, and she smiles wider, much more on the fact that you were in her music room, holding her guitar, and singing her song.

She could feel her heart melting entirely, and the weight on her shoulders from the work she's had were starting to fade away from her. You weren't facing her, so you didn't even notice her standing by the doorway.

"And I don't know how it gets better than this." Your voice held happiness, purely out of the proudness that you had achieved to learn the song, and you were nodding your head to the rhythm.

"You take my hand and drag me headfirst, fearless!" The way you moved showed that you were deep into the music, and she shakes her head. She didn't even know you could sing so well, but oh, you could. It just about made her fall in love with you even further, if that was even possible anymore since her heart was already overflowing with love for you.

"And I don't know why but with you, I'd dance, in a storm in my best dress, fearless..." you finish off your singing, only starting to strum the guitar for the instrumental part, going freely.

She bits her lip, then takes a step forward. "I like your singing." She says suddenly, her voice cutting through the sound of the guitar and making you jump slightly, your strumming stopping as your head turns around quickly, only to see Taylor standing there with a smile.

"Oh!...You're home," you say, your voice now a little quieter than your singing as your cheeks flushed, your hands relaxing on the guitar.

"I...got bored so I-- um, I picked up your guitar," you stammered out slightly, gesturing to the instrument in your lap as you gaze up at her.

"I hope you don't mind," you add in quickly, and your eyes follow the way she smiled wider with a small chuckle, going forward to sit on the couch behind you.

"Baby, you can grab it anytime...but I didn't know you played?" She says curiously and thoughtfully, her eyebrows furrowing as she looks down at you, seeing the pinkish tint on your face turn into a shade of red.

"I don't, I...just learned it," you reply, gently putting the guitar on the floor, facing up before you turn your body to look at her properly, resting your head against her leg.

Her face only held soft happiness and pride as she gazes back at you, her heart about to jump out her chest. "Well, you did an amazing job, sweetheart. Especially playing that song when its raining," she says, adding in the expression of her hand, reaching out to boop your nose slightly, and you scrunch it up at the touch.

Your facial expressions go back to a normal gentler face, and you look over her appearance, noticing the raindrops on her hair, and her shirt and jacket slightly having wetness on them. "Speaking of it, you're covered in rain, baby. What happened?" You ask with concern, your hand going to rest on her knee.

She purses in her lips and her eyes move to her own appearance. "Just a little...the wind threw my umbrella off balance..." she says softly under her breath, a pink blush fading into her face. Then, her eyes glide to you.

"Were you the one who initiated the rain by playing Fearless? Because if so, I'm blaming you," she says playfully, pointing to you. Your lips raise up into a smile and you giggled, shaking your head.

"Well, you're the one who took the lyrics literally, except without me," you replied back, reaching out to give a gentle tug to the hem of her jacket she was wearing; possibly the only thing keeping her warm.

She chuckles at your playful statement, then tilts her head. "I also didn't dance in the rain or quite in the best dress..." she says, gesturing to herself.

You smile lovingly up at her. "No, but you look pretty anyway," you whispered, taking her hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Then, another thought came into your mind, and you get concerned once more. "You don't have a cold, do you?" you ask suddenly, your eyebrows furrowing.

"No, I'm fine, baby." She shook her head quickly, giving you a reassuring smile to play it off. The quickness of it was almost suspicious.

"You're sure?" you ask, raising a conspicuous eyebrow as you looked over her appearance. She was shivering ever so slightly, and her nose was red.

"Mhm." She nods, giving you a hum for an answer, but then a small sneeze escapes her as she turns her body to the side, sneezing into the arch of her elbow.

She takes a breath in, and opens her eyes again when it felt like the sneeze had faded. When she sees the concerned questionable look on your face, she smiles shyly. "Maybe just a teensy bit..." she whispers.

"Teensy bit?" you repeat her last two words with a gentle pinch of air with your index finger and thumb, smiling wider at her as you rested your head against your now folded arms on the couch.

She found the sight of you adorable at the moment, and she lets out a small giggle at your gesture, but then bit her lip, wanting to get warmer. "Can I just have cuddles now...?" she asks softly, and you had the chance to do the most playfully mischevious thing.

"Mmmmm, no, I don't wanna get sick," you teased, turning your head away from her and leaning back with your hand getting off the couch, as if you were trying to get away from her.

She pouted in response, her hands now stretching out to reach your shoulders before you could go any further. "Please?" she whispers.

Your fingers curled back down on the couch, and you smiled at her small pout in the corner of your eye, finding it adoring. You glance back at her once more before standing.

"I was kidding. Of course you can...once you take a bath," you say with a chuckle, not wanting her to be sleeping in wet clothes and being uncomfortable from the lingering rain on her body and face.

"Yay," she says under her breath, throwing her arms up as her pout easily faded away into a smile.

"Come here, sweetheart," you say softly, gently taking her hands and pulling her up while she was also moving to stand by herself, a balance of a loving act.

Once she gets up entirely, she instantly wraps her arms around you, burying her face into your chest. Your lips softly curled up at her quickness, and you instinctively go to return her embrace, warming her cold body up.

"I missed you..." she murmurs into your shirt, tightening her arms around you as she nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

You tilt your head, brushing your nose lightly against her blonde hair. "I missed you even more." you whispered softly, your voice filled with love and sincerity, and the room held all the comfort of your shared sweetness.

Once you pull back from the long comforting embrace, you slip one of your hand into hers, but picked up her guitar that you had left on the floor, delicately moving to put it back on its stand.

"How was your day, baby?" she asks, seeing you return your focus to her and putting a gentle kiss to the side of her head, making her smile softly.

"It was okay...a little lonely though," you murmured, turning off the light in the room, then having your gaze on the floor as you walked in the halls with her.

Her smile falters a little, and the hand she has intertwined with yours squeezed you gently. "I'm sorry sweetheart..." she whispers, leaning closer to your side.

You give her a gentle assuring smile. "Its okay, at least now I've gained a new hobby by being bored," you say, brushing your shoulder against hers, but her expressions held concern and a small frown.

"It doesn't excuse the fact that you felt lonely..." she quietly says, her mind going over her thoughts as she focuses her eyes to the path of your bedroom. She had been so caught on the show she had today, that she forgot to even bring out her phone from the private room during her breaks.

"I'll text you more while I'm away," she assures, turning her head to catch your reaction to her words, her thumb caressing over the back of your hand.

Your eyes meet hers, and it was surely visible that you had the smallest anxious battle ongoing inside you, but you purse your lips. "It's okay, really, but...thank you." You shake your head, both of you arriving to your shared bedroom that already had the lights and fan on.

You squeeze her hand before letting go, going to the closet to grab her some clothes for her to change into after cleaning up. She bit her lower lip, gazing at you.

"Hey." she breathes out, quietly, but holding the smallest bit of firmness to get your attention, and you pause in your search of clothes, looking back at her.

She lets out a gentle breath, taking steps forward to be closer to you, and wrap her arms around you. "Don't forget to text me too, okay?" she whispers, holding gentle eye contact with you to make sure you were listening.

You stay quiet for just a small moment, but the visible fraction of a breath you released only showed that you had a realization, and you gave her a nod. "I'm sorry I didn't," you whispered back, making her features soften.

"No, honey, it's okay. I'm sorry I didn't either," she reassures you softly. The shake of her head caused your noses to brush, the close proximity you both held not giving much space. But of course, neither of you minded.

"I love you," she says under her breath, softer than ever. Her voice held more emotion than it did before, and her hand reaches up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing.

You tried to hold back the emotions bubbling in your throat, and you nod again, a soft smile raising on your face. "I love you more," you whispered, leaning in for your lips to meet.

"You're gonna get spammed with cat videos," you add, lightening the situation with a gentle joke, and she breathes out a chuckle, nuzzling against your nose.

"Good," she whispers, sliding her hand to your back and rubbing it up and down in a soothing motion; one that only made you lean into her embrace, fingers furling into her shirt as she continued assuring you.

Afterwards, you got her into a nice warm bath, helping her clean up and decompress after work, then relax with her once she had gotten into comfier clothes; such as your hoodie, and soon had fallen asleep together in each other's embrace.

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

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff @tia-thesimp @marvelwomen-simp @escapereality4music @fawnedolly @justgayloringeverthrone @lovelyy-moonlight @stevecore @midastouch013 @liloandstitchstan @maleahoswick @raven-ss @deadlymistletoe @bambisfawns @rorysrambles @natsxwife

#🥀 dawn’s collection #taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift fluff #taylor swift comfort #soft taylor swift #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift fanfiction #taylor swift fanfic #taylor swift fic

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besaya-glantaya · 1 year ago

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In an attempt to exorcise these thoughts from my brain (this movie has taken up residence in my soul), here is an incomplete list of the things I notice and love in Red White and Royal Blue.

1. Henry staring in utter disbelief at the frosting-covered whiskey tumbler Alex plops distractedly into his hand whilst pawing ineffectually at the mess all over Henry's shoulder. Comedy gold.

2. Nora pretending she doesn't know either of them and hiding her face as they scuffle in front the cake.

3. How Alex has Henry literally in his pocket while talking turkey.

4. During Henry's "what does it mean" crisis talk over The Kiss, the entire scene is dressed in bi flag colours. Nora is in pink, Alex in blue, with a purple poster in the background.

5. The soft "whoa" of the white house staffer, who walks into Nora's office just in time to hear her ask Alex: "How many guys have you been with?" She hesitates, stunned, and then looks as if she'd like the ground to open up and swallow her now, thank you very much.

6. His Royal Hardness making flustered small talk with the UK Prime Minister and the US President, while the FSOTUS goes in for a cheeky squeeze. You ridiculous, giddy, fools.

7. Ellen's exasperated "my son thinks he's a fucking comedian" look in reply to Alex's "The night is young, Ma" and his shit eating grin, before diplomatically, and very sensibly, removing the British PM from the vicinity of these two horny idiots.

8. Alex's warm and teasing delivery of "Are they known for their homosexual tendencies?" after Henry says he's "as gay as a maypole." Boy is smitten.

9. When Henry invites Alex to the charity polo match, his initial awkward nerves transition to fond derision when Alex's tells him, crestfallen, that he doesn't know how to play polo. Bless.

10. Henry on a horse. Very much in agreement with Alex on this one.

11. The interleaved editing of the polo match and tack room shenanigans. It reminds me strongly of the interlaced 'what if' scene in Steven Sodenburg's Out of Sight, which is executed at a far slower pace but delivers that same feel of two people being inexorably drawn to each other, almost as if events are fated to happen.

12. The lighting in the Paris cafe scene. God damn those are two beautiful men.

13. Henry's gleefuly bashful admission of innuendo in the Paris cafe. He's just given Alex his full Royal name, but its Henry Fox that's in control here and he's revelling in bringing every moment of his inner fantasies to life.

14. The heartbreaking disconnect between their two perspectives in the Paris walk scene.

That's some bullshit

It's my life

Doesn't mean you have to accept it

Alex has spent his life pushing defiantly against societal expectations. Henry has spent his life weighed down by them, isolated in a way that Alex only barely grasps.

15. I wish, with all my heart, that the fairytale political landscape of this movie was real.

16. The entirety of the morning after scene in the hotel room during the DNC is perfection and Zahra is the MVP. Matthew Lopez said he had no idea he was going to get that mini panic attack from Sarah Shahi and kudos to Sarah for that perfomance. Inspired.

17. How quickly and assertively Alex say "No" to Zarah's "would it make any difference if I told you not to see him again?"

18. The way Zarah says "Everytime I see you, it takes another year off my life." This phrase plays on loop in my brain during shitty work meetings.

19. The coming out scene with Alex and his Mom. A joyous balm for those of us who never got to experience that with our own parents.

20. Forehead touches. Ugh.

21. My brother in Christ, sharpen your knives Oscar, what did that pepper do to deserve that?

22. The catatonic state of sadness that Henry exists in after swimming away from Alex. My heart hurts.

23. The pride flags in the crowd outside Buckingham Palace. Again, can we all have this universe, pretty please?

24. The way Henry takes Alex's hand with such ease in public after the election win. If only Paris Henry could see you now.

[Exorcism sequel here]

#red white and royal blue #prince henry rwrb #rwrb film #rwrb thoughts #alex claremont diaz #rwrb #first prince #henry fox #red white and royal blue movie #myrwrbthoughts

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the-curse-of-neoclones · 1 year ago

Text

Moderneopets Artist Mistreatment

Edit as of 11/16/23 10:40 AM NST:

Removed names where I failed to do so before. I'm very sorry to the affected parties, this snowballed so far out of my intended scope.

Edit as of 11/16/23 5:30 PM NST

Please see this post for a small update.

As of 11/16/23 10:10 PM NST, Hazer the site owner has formally and publicly apologized to myself and Velu, the other affected artist. As far as I'm concerned he has officially handled the situation as best as he could, and I hold no further qualms with Moderneopets. I hope to hear of its management continuing in this direction.

The following post is left up for archival purposes only.

*****

Hello, I’m wren. I'm an artist responsible for some of the pet assets on the neoclone, Moderneopets. I'm just going to get into it.

Hazer was extremely lucky to somehow cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site. When it comes to his own management as a site runner, he’s largely hands-off of the art department, which is a good thing! If he can’t be active in the art panel enough to know what goes on in there, he shouldn’t be running it— we have many strong, capable artists on the team who are passionate about recreating the neopets style, who work together on every pet that has been released ever since critique became a requirement.

It makes sense that, with a project this large, Hazer should have to designate moderators to enforce rules when he is absent. Choosing to bring on moderators was also a good decision. Unfortunately, he chose poorly.

Art panel issues should have separate Art panel moderators to take care of them. People who are not overburdened with generic moderation duties from the many other channels of the server, for example. In the same vein, artists should not be moderators. When an artist has an issue with another artist, who happens to be a moderator (which has happened many times, with many people— If the mods actually open threads for all complaints they receive, they should have evidence of this & if they don’t they are not being truthful), the artist would likely not feel comfortable approaching that same artist-slash-moderator to complain about what happened. It breeds an aura of fear and discomfort any time there is an issue with an artist/mod, and that is why the two moderators on the team should have to choose one or the other if hazer wants to cultivate a healthy atmosphere in his panel.

I’ve created many pets for this website. Neopets has been a passion of mine since the third grade. I’m also one of those professional artists I mentioned— my work is also art, industry or otherwise. I care about breaking neopets down into their core, recognizable shapes. I care about keeping them on-model and in the spirit of the original TNT art team, with improvements made where I and the other panelists think they make sense. I have redlined for other artists to an even greater degree, just as other artists have redlined for me and helped me finalize each pet into something simply good: something that made sense to get put on a little passion project website for other people with a similar passion to enjoy. I found the panel to be a community of likeminded artists with which to discuss our favorite childhood petsite while we made art for a clone, as if we could pretend we were making art for neopets-dot-com. It was nice.

It wasn’t perfect, though. In fact, shortly after I joined in 2021 I took a hiatus because the art panel was fairly dead. I came back a little while later to see we had several new species, as well as an art director, and lots of activity! That was very exciting. Over the next year I would reach out to the panel or, if nobody was sure of how to proceed, I would reach out to the art director to propose ideas for how to make the panel a little more functional; quality of life updates, if you will. I don’t take credit for all of these alone, there were other artists with similar ideas all communicating to the director in private, but some examples:

A designated “collab” zone where artists could seek out other artists to complete pets with.

“The Purge,” in which the team was whittled down to ~25 current, active artists to refresh the team and allow for new artists to join.

“The Approval System,” which I first sat down with in my workshop (public to all artists) to hammer out the details with as many other artists as wanted to give their input— a method for pitching new ideas to eventually break through the “new species/color freeze” that had been plaguing us.

Speaking on the approval system: like most things that required Hazer’s direct input in the art team, it was left without response for a very long time. Artists with ideas for custom species or colors would occasionally murmur about their excitement for the system to get a look-over by hazer, to see if our approval system pitch would be approved. But hazer is busy, as we all know, and the pitch sat for a while. We had new & returning artists on the team to keep everyone busy.

What I would expect from a years-old panel of artists, when new additions arrive, would be some manner of tutorial. New artists would need to know the pipeline (here’s your workshop, you can post WIPs and anything else in there; here’s how you ping for critique, here are the spaces in which to ask for it; make sure you always ping before your work is submitted on-site), and there would likely be some acclimating on both sides. What I did not expect (but should have), was pushback from new artists on things that hadn’t had pushback in a long time. Why can’t [x] color be a posechange? Well, we’ve created many already and none of them were posechanges. Why can’t I use colored lineart? Well, that isn’t in line with the style standards set by this color; see, nobody else is coloring their lineart.

Suddenly there was a divide between veteran artists, the director, and the new blood. The divide felt greater when Hazer came to his new artist’s aid to say, approximately: “Eh, if someone wants to go above and beyond and make better art, they shouldn’t have to adhere to the guidelines.” Then he threw the art director under the bus for not somehow knowing that his intentions were always to keep the panel loose and unstructured. But don’t worry, that isn’t the first bus and won’t be the last.

My personal investment in the panel waned around that time. I think a structured “work” environment with easily accessible rules and deadlines is necessary to any project of this size. If we didn’t want to enforce color standards, nor prioritize certain colors for release, and anyone could just submit whatever Nice Art they wanted, why not open it up so any user could submit pet art? Why have a panel at all? Isn’t Hazer taking any opportunity to dunk on Leopets because he wants his site to be better? How is this different?

But I stuck around. This was a hobby I really enjoyed, after all, and I really believed it could get better. It had a good core, and despite my grievances with individual artists, none of them were bad people.

But I noticed some trends. New artists would receive feedback that they didn’t agree with and retaliate by bringing in their emotions or personal preferences. Any disagreement where multiple veteran artists stepped in to say their piece would escalate to the point of very long messages on both sides, and would need to be left to hazer to give a final input. Often he didn’t come around to it, because he’s busy, as we know. I didn’t step in to every argument; they became cyclical after a while, and I didn’t have the time or energy to spend simply tapping the proverbial sign (or style sheet). I would try to give positive suggestions when I could, for example: I don’t think this color needs another alt for just one single design, but we did talk about eventually making this color that your design would fit into really well.

I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet. I really just want an art environment where the rules are set and people actually enjoy following them, because I do— I see art rules as helpful guidelines at best and obstacles to cleverly navigate at worst, which is still fun. But of course not everyone is going to feel the same way, that’s normal; that’s life.

On 11/9 I was given this message by Hazer:

It reads:

Hello wren,

I am reaching out to you today to inform you that effective immediately you are being dismissed from the Artist and Consultant Panels. This decision has been reached through discussions and based on repeated offences in the form of user harassment and subjecting the panels to a toxic atmosphere, after multiple reports and concerns brought up to us by other users.

While we understand concerns regarding panel management, there is a distinct difference between criticising and condeming the way the panel does things and criticising and condeming users that are on the panel, and we believe this line has been crossed one too many times, further supported by concerns brought to us.

We appreciate the passion and drive of our team—all of them—and we understand you have been very passionate about the panel. Given some of the messages we see, we have also concluded that due to things in the panel not working out as you have wished, it has caused you much stress and upset as well, which we do not want. All in all, we've decided that the atmosphere of the panel and your own enjoyment of the website are hampered by your presence on it. Because of this, we have decided it is best to have you part ways with the staff sections of the website.

Effective immediately after this message, we will be permanently removing you from the panels. While normally we do a temporary removal, in this case we've seen that your compatability with our management and handling of the panel will not improve, and it will just bring stress to both sides.

We understand you have put a lot of passion into the projects you have been working on for release in Moderneopets, and in lieu of that, we offer you the option of having the project(s) still be released even after dismissal. Rewards will still be granted for releases per usual, and credit will still be given. If you decide, due to dismissal, you do not want your unreleased work to be released on Moderneopets, simply state it as such, and we will discard all progress on projects you have been working on to respect those wishes.

This decision is final and will not be revoked.

Best wishes to you,

The Moderneopets Team

[end caption]

My response:

It reads:

No warnings huh?

[end caption]

Hazer didn’t have an answer for me. I was already removed from the panel.

This came as a shock. I’d been there for over two years, I felt I had a good rapport with the other artists, I felt I’d been a helpful and active addition to the team. Like I said, I’ve done my time having arguments on the internet… what toxic behavior? Discussions over style guides? Giving redlines to people with permission? Working with the whole team to bolster several new color releases? I had an entire species that Hazer wanted ready to go since March— I just pushed through the Swamp Gas release, I just created the Mystical alt?

No warnings?

Let me reiterate: I have never been spoken to by any staff about my behavior. Hazer, his then-four moderators— none of them have ever been in my DMs to issue a warning. I have spoken TO the mods about others’ behaviors, and nothing ever came of it. The one time (and I mention this for full transparency only) the art director came to talk to me about something I said, it was stated clearly that it was not a warning, and even so I adjusted my behavior around said issue accordingly. And that was well before the purge.

But, don’t take my word for it. Here it is from hazer himself, speaking over his mods who were busy telling the rest of the panel that they always issue warnings:

It reads:

No in this case I do agree that this has been an abrupt situation and I understand the blind-sided-ness of it. No official warnings were given out regarding the actions that resulted in the removal of artists today and that’s on fault of myself and deebs not working things out properly despite the moderation team bringing issues to a us a few times – also due to our lack of availability recently. [end caption]

So… What happened? Well… here it is from Hazer, in longform:

For those who use screen readers, above are several enormous discord screenshots; I've placed it in a paste bin here: https://pastebin.com/dHLiBRTF

Two other artists immediately stepped down. Hazer admits here in his message that he and the mods had multiple tickets opened about my behavior, that they had known they wanted to remove me. They never gave a warning, never talked to me until the moment of my dismissal, but they had known it was coming for months?

Why did Hazer and his gang of mods let me continue working on art for their panel? Why did they let me work so hard to pull Swamp Gas together for an official release? Why did they let me put together a whole custom Alt and workshop it for so long? I’ve been active this whole time. Why did you let me keep working if you knew you wanted me gone?

I am a professional artist. My work is art. Hazer made the knowing decision to exploit my time and effort for his website. He’s not paying me, he’s not paying any of us. It’s volunteer work. But I did not volunteer to be mistreated like this. To not even be given a chance to defend myself. To him, artists are disposable. To him, if someone has worked on your team for years but speaks up when your friend tries to overturn the system, even civil discussion is cause for disposal. Civil discussion negates years of effort, passion, time and care.

I didn’t have to make art for you, Hazer. And you don’t deserve the team you have. How many artists have voiced their discomfort with your actions? How many artists are taking a break from the panel because of how you handled this? Ah, wait, you wouldn’t know… you’re busy.

Hazer and his mod team are just another corrupt group of individuals unfortunately heading what could have been a fun and promising petsite. Everyone who speaks praise of modneo does it by and large because of the new and unique art. Hazer was extremely lucky to cultivate a dense group of largely professional artists to work together to make assets for his site.

If Hazer wants to show any sign of his potential to be a better person, I believe he needs to formally apologize to his site for the misuse of his power and the mistreatment and exploitation of artists on his team. He needs to apologize to you, the players of his game, the subscribers to his patreon, for allowing this to happen under his watch and under his word. You know you fucked up, hazer. You shouldn’t have sided with your friend without any actual evidence of misconduct. You shouldn’t have spoken about me like I was a toxic, subhuman hindrance to your art team. You shouldn’t have treated me like that. I didn’t deserve it. None of us did. You can apologize to me and the other lost artists publicly.

#moderneopets #virtu.pet #grundos cafe #neopets #neotag #modneo #moderneo

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deceptive-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Four - Boiling Point

W/C: 7.4K

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

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, slight SA (groping), drinking (if I missed anything please let me know)

A messy night and several unfortunate events.

A/N: This one got a little long but it was so fun to write, chaos is really fun to coordinate but my poor babies are taking the brunt of it all woops

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Working nights had flipped your entire sleeping schedule upside down. Two weeks had passed since that first evening where you worked an entire shit show and you still weren’t accustomed to resting in the afternoon in preparation for the night shift. It didn’t seem like such a big deal seeing as the bar thrived around three nights a week and remained quiet to steady the rest of the time but with a staff of only four, the workload piles up. Tossing and turning on the couch, you groan, longing for a peaceful sleep that would energize you. The bed wasn’t doing you any justice which is why the couch sounded that much more appealing but as it turns out they both had the same effect.

Keeping you awake.

Now, there wasn’t anything remotely wrong with either one however, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to find that blissful sleep you were yearning for.

You were restless.

What didn’t help was the incessant shredding of an electric guitar next door. The high pitch clawed at your ears and echoed throughout the canyon your house was settled in. You could either suck it up and muffle the sound as best as you could with a pillow, or you could confront your noisy neighbor and politely let him know you were trying to sleep in order to fuel yourself to run his bar. Confrontation was not your specialty and you would avoid it by any means necessary. But it couldn’t hurt to just ask him to stop. The worst he could do is laugh in your face and slam the door.

And that would be enough to turn your blood hot, not in rage, but in shame and embarrassment. Maybe it was best to tuck your sweaty and fidgety body back into the couch for long enough that the imprints of the rough fabric would show up as indentations on your skin. Hopefully the shrieking of the guitar would eventually fade away and become background noise in your dreams.

It never did stop.

–

“Jett, could you please toss me that rag? Major spill at table four.”

It was 6:00 PM, Friday night. Just about every table and every stool was occupied, a competitive game of pool provoking many men to yell at the top of their lungs, causing your ear drums even more grief than the endless guitar solos you had to endure earlier. On top of it all, drunk people on a Friday night were not easy to clean up after, several spills inevitably happening on your watch, with more than enough evidence to back your claim up.

“I’ll get it, you go on your break.” Jett advises.

The Bourbon was nearly at capacity, a majority of the town’s regulars seated along the bar and even more of its residents engaging in their pre-weekend activities. The people of Knife’s Edge were rambunctious or at least, that’s the only side of them you’d seen so far. Most likely because they were all getting hammered. Maybe you should get out more? Then you could see their personalities sober and not glazed over with the confidence of alcohol.

“You sure?” You ask sincerely.

Jett didn’t even have a second to glance up at you from the beers he was collecting, a whole round of them for a table of five men roaring with laughter.

“Yeah, if you don’t take it now it’s only going to get busier and you never will.” He yells over the booming music.

“Okay.”

You’re reluctant to leave him alone but you trust his judgment, seeing as he has no issue making that call. And customers seemed to love him, joking back and forth until he practically dragged himself back behind the bar. They hadn’t seemed to take that kind of liking toward you quite yet and the only compliments you received were gross comments from older men that slurred their words, you respectfully dismissing yourself to tend to other customers just to escape.

Quickly, you make your way toward the back through the narrow hallway that leads out to the alley. The bar had become stuffy, too many humans populating the small space, prompting a much needed break for a breath of fresh air. Almost reaching the door, a haven that would relieve your sweat coated skin with a crisp breeze, you collide into something firm, a deep grunt coming from the source.

“Watch it, Bambi.” Eddie barks, glaring down at you. He holds an unopened bottle of tequila, knuckles white as he tightens his grasp.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter, taken back by his stern voice. It was for the most part, always stern but this time it was especially disapproving.

“Where are you going?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“My break. Jett just–”

“Your break? Now? I need all hands on deck right now, take your break in like thirty when it calms down.”

A vein in his neck looks as if it’s about to pop, stress evident in his entire demeanor. Even his lips are bitten and red from what seemed to be constant tugging from his teeth. Maybe he needed a toothpick to chew on instead? Maybe that’s why he chewed on them in the first place?

“Well I–Jett just sent me on break.” You reason.

“Jett?”

“Yeah.”

He breathes in deep, head tilting toward the ceiling as he exhales through his mouth, clearly trying to maintain his calmness. Although it always seemed like he was going to blow up and cause a scene when he got like this, he never did.

“Jesus Christ, kid’s gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Walking down the hall toward the commotion of the bar, he shakes his head, curls bouncing and that famous frizz framing his head like a halo. You keep your movements halted, feet glued to the floor in confusion as to whether you’re meant to follow him or actually go on your break.

“So do I–do you want me to take my break or–”

“Just go.” He calls back, this time a calmer tone detected in his voice.

If you were meant to do the opposite in some sort of reverse psychology moment, you didn’t. The cool air called to you and you were going to use all ten minutes to bathe in it, and reset your nervous system. Eddie could sweat in your place for the time being.

Things had been easier since that first shift; the cook, Randy, had returned and said that he left in the heat of the moment, explaining the following day that he lost his cool and was so certain he was going to quit. Then he came back to his senses and realized how unrealistic that was and that he was in no position to be searching for a new job right now. He was on the verge of begging for his job back but what you’d heard from the back office was Eddie telling him not to ‘pull that shit again’ and to ‘get back to work’. No further discussions or arguments on the topic ensued since that day.

The chilly Autumn air brushed against your cheeks upon stepping out the door, not too much of a bite to it yet but enough to warrant a slight shiver. The sun had already set just over an hour ago, darkness already enclosing the surrounding world. It felt empty and devoid of life, but not in an apocalyptic way, but rather in a serene kind of way. It was quiet except for the whisper of leaves of the birch trees in the wind.

This place still felt so far from home and your loneliness was still as prominent as ever. You worked, went home, slept, woke up at around 10:00 AM, fixed breakfast, attempted to go back to sleep, failed and sometimes visited Donnie at the supermarket, and repeated. The routine was sad and you might as well have been a grouchy old woman that no one spoke to or went near, not a twenty something year old who should be making the most out of her life. The locals weren’t unfriendly, you just couldn’t seem to fit in. Jett was the closest thing you had to a ‘friend’, although he was your coworker and some may see it as mandatory that he remains friendly with you. Outside of work you had little to no interaction with others, usually opting to stay in and clean or watch reruns of some shows you had pre-recorded on a collection of VHS tapes. It’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your nights in, you just wished you had the option to call someone up to hang out or make plans every now and then.

Ten minutes flew by like it was seconds, the door leading inside swinging open unexpectedly and smacking against the concrete wall, Eddie’s head poking out in search of you.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” He asks sarcastically.

You control the urge to roll your eyes, having a better sense of his antics in the past two weeks and knowing that no real consequences would apply to you under these circumstances. You still maintain the need to react to his dramatics and remind him that you were helping him out just as much as he was helping you. But you push it down and straighten your posture.

“Yes.” You reply, eyes staring up at him with a hint of resistance.

“Could’ve had me fooled.” He snaps, ducking back inside.

Following him, you finally give into the urge to roll your eyes behind his back.

“I timed my break just right.” You notify him, glancing at your watch. “I was about to come back.”

“You’re a minute late.”

Instead of allowing you a chance to argue with him, he jumps right back into action and starts clearing off a vacant table. The rush hadn’t stopped all night, table after table being cleared only to immediately seat a new party.

After he strides off with a pile of glasses and a few plates, you get to work on wiping everything clean. It was a newfound system, a plan that hadn’t been agreed on by either of you but was understood regardless. With how understaffed the bar was, it worked like a charm.

Jett’s main role was behind the bar but every now and then he would catch onto whenever you and Eddie were running behind and he would swoop in to take care of a table or two. Recently, you learned that the other bartender, Pete, had quit and skipped town about a week before your arrival, making it that much harder to keep up with the demand of the customers who regularly chose The Bourbon to decompress at. So now it was only you, Eddie, Jett, and Randy running the whole place. It turned out not to be too bad of a gig, weeknights were slow enough and Sundays the bar was closed, leaving Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays as the busiest nights of the week. The tips were decent enough as well.

Especially from those creepy old men which was an unfortunate situation you could do without but hey, it helped pay the bills. If you ignored their advances and didn’t completely reject them, they’d leave behind a nice tip. It felt icky, pocketing the money but the more you thought about it, the more compelled you felt to take their money. If they were going to waste your time, you might as well be compensated for it.

One man in particular had been lurking at one of the corner tables, purposely opting out of the bar seating to instead have a higher chance of you waiting on him. He must have been in his sixties and had an unnerving stare that just made you want to hide back in the kitchen. You failed to inform Eddie, simply because he didn’t need further reason to see you as dainty or incapable of holding your own.

So you gulped down your fear and put the blinders on as best you could.

Just take his order and get it over with. Then you can move on with your night and hopefully he’ll be out of here soon.

And right off the bat, his disgusting mouth started running. Something about ‘can a pretty little thing like you get me a drink?’. Then a few more unsolicited nicknames with a smirk and some remark about how good your body looked. Something you didn’t care to hold onto in your mind, you only felt the need to take a shower.

As you rounded the corner of the bar and got to work making the pervert’s drink, you found yourself lost in thought. Thoughts about if he found out where you lived, you may be done for. It was a small town after all and it wouldn’t be difficult.

“Hey, you good?” Jett asks, shaker in hand, concern obvious in his knit eyebrows.

“What?” You’re pulled out of your mind, shaking your head as if to lure yourself back to reality. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure him.

He nods but his expression shows that he’s not very convinced. You finish off the drink you’d been absentmindedly making, a scotch on the rocks while offering Jett one more reassuring smile before making your way out from behind the bar.

Like you were throwing yourself back into the lion’s den, you approach the man’s table, hoping to quickly drop off his drink and be on your way. If only life were ever so kind to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” A disgusting grin paints his face and just before you can mumble an ‘mhm’ and rush off, an unwelcome hand gropes your ass, sliding down, down, down. You can’t see his face but you know he displays the most revolting smirk following his actions.

With a yelp followed by a gasp, you freeze. Paralyzed, you aren’t sure how to move forward, how do you recover from being reduced to a piece of meat? Flesh to be gawked at and held onto without permission. An object to be handled.

“I-I’m sorry but—“ You begin to stumble over your words but never get the chance to say much more when the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floors, arguably worse than nails on a chalkboard, is heard behind you.

Upon turning around, you’re met with the sight of your boss shoving the repulsive man toward the door by the collar of his mustard stained shirt. Eddie's strength shows despite his lean figure, appearing to have no trouble in maneuvering the man where he wants him against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie bites, nostrils flaring as his cheeks seem to heat with a hue of red.

“Listen—“

The man’s hands are thrown up in surrender but it’s apparent that wasn’t the true intent behind his actions. An excuse was on the tip of his tongue before Eddie cut him off, not an ounce of patience left.

“What. The. Fuck. Was that?” He repeats, grip tightening on the shirt collar, face inching closer to the man as a means of intimidation.

“Just a little flirting, she was into it.”

You can’t help but grimace at the pathetic attempt to cover up what had actually happened. And it seemed that Eddie didn’t take too well to that answer either, further pushing the man into the door if even possible. The scene had drawn the attention of almost the whole bar, a sea of eyeballs glued to the altercation about to happen, your very being flushed from embarrassment from the mere idea of being the source of all of it. Had you walked away quicker, it would’ve gone unnoticed and you could’ve gone on with your night, leaving everyone else undisturbed.

“Yeah?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, his chest heaving. “Didn’t seem like she was into it to me.”

“She was—“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ asking. She wasn’t into it.”

If looks could kill, the guy would be erased from existence with no trace of life left behind on Eddie’s account. His big brown eyes showcased pure rage, a distinct difference from the annoyance and the fiery glare he’d cast on you every so often, especially when you would forget to pile up the dishes his way. No, this was far more devastating and should you one day be the recipient of his aggressive stare, you’d be reduced to tears on the spot.

“Now you’re gonna get the hell out of my bar. I never wanna see you again—“

“Listen man, I’m not—“

“I’m fucking talking.” Eddie growls. “You get the hell out of here and never come back, you hear me? And you better fucking hope I don’t catch you pulling some shit like that again, I will kick your goddamn teeth in.” He promises.

Confrontations like this were not something you were familiar with, always running off before things got too far. You suppose that’s why people feel it was okay to use you as a doormat. It always feels easier to drop it and walk away, ‘be the bigger person’ or whatever they say. Even if it actually meant making you feel like the smallest person on earth.

All the back and forth and frequent swears with intention of aggravation had labored your breathing, your chest struggling to allow movement, feeling like a straw was delivering air to your lungs. Just when you’d attempt to swallow a big enough breath of air, it would all go to waste and only provide just enough oxygen to get by. A cold sweat threatened to spill from your hairline, your palms clammy to match. The murmurs and whispers of witnesses had your eyes darting from person to person, suddenly all too aware of the life you were living.

Too human.

You don’t remember another word exchanged between the two men and you certainly don’t remember how you managed to claw your way to the bathroom amidst the turmoil. But here you were, staring into the dingy mirror with no purpose other than to escape. And it wasn’t working. Suddenly the lights were too bright and the room was too small, but it was secluded and that's what mattered. Having some kind of an episode in front of the entire bar would be far worse, having an episode alone where prying eyes cannot dissect your every movement and reason for being is the better option. It wasn’t often that your mind went to this extent when being faced with a challenging situation but when it did, you didn’t find it easy to come out of.

You heard your name floating somewhere in the bleach scented air but couldn’t quite bring yourself back enough to recognize who required your attention. There was a head peeking in at the door after some frequent knocking and though you kept insisting you were okay and just to give you a few minutes, the individual seemed to have reason not to believe you.

“Hey, Ed!” He called behind him. It was Jett. A sweet and scared out of his mind Jett from what you could decipher through squinted eyes and blurred vision. He was obviously being faced with unfamiliar territory, I mean who is ever prepared to talk someone down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a shift? Panic was evident in his voice just as much as it was evident in your whole body.

“Eddie, I need some help!” He yells again. “Hey, you okay? What happened? Do you need–”

“Move over.” You hear Eddie mumble before the door swings open, the hinges squeaking painfully. “You’re asking too many questions.”

With a swift shut of the door, Jett hurries back to attend to the several customers awaiting service.

“Listen to me, Bambi. You gotta breathe.” His voice is smooth, a huge contrast to what you’d just heard moments ago.

When your legs begin to feel wobbly, as if you were a calf taking its first steps, you slowly lower yourself to the ground, a sturdy hand wrapping around your upper arm to support you.

“In.” Eddie inhales, though you can only hear him since your eyes are shut so tightly, your eyelids might rip. “Out.” He exhales. “C’mon, breathe in–”

“Is she oka—”

“Jett, fuck off for a minute. Please.” Eddie begs, clearly fed up before returning to his newfound gentle tone. “Can you look at me?” He diverts his attention back to you, Jett taking the hint and shutting the door, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eyes squeezed shut, you shake your head. Your body shakes involuntarily, the anxiety becoming even worse when you try to contain it, like it wants to jump out and strangle you.

“Okay, okay.” He attempts to soothe. “You wanna get some air?” He asks just above a whisper.

“I-I dunno. ‘M sorry.” You manage to choke out, sniffling.

“Okay, no big deal.” He sighs, running a hand down his face, not out of irritation but more so exhaustion. “Let’s get you outside, it’s too hot in here.”

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting the majority of your weight against him, walking you out of the bathroom and out the door into the alley. The chilly air bites at your skin and thankfully, reality slowly starts to return again.

“Try breathing again, in and out.” Eddie encourages.

You nod, jaw locked tightly both from the cold and from the paralyzing anxiety coursing through your veins. Your teeth feel as if they could crack at any second, the pressure from you biting down too immense but you can’t bring yourself to unhinge your jaw.

“In.” Eddie coaches, exaggerating a large breath, his chest rising with the motion. “Out.” He exhales through his mouth, his breath visible in the air.

He continues the breathing exercise a few more times, you following carefully as things become clear again. And from all that had just happened, all you could gather was that you were a huge baby who couldn’t handle a rogue customer. You weren’t capable of holding things down when it got rough.

Pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know–I don’t know what happened–” You try to make sense of it all, failing miserably.

“What happened was some pervert copped a feel and we don’t play around with that shit here.”

Anger is obvious within his expression, even more so when he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one hastily.

“Did you…”

The question is on the tip of your tongue however, you won’t let yourself say it at the risk of sounding even more like an injured bird.

“What?” He asks, kicking around a few pebbles, the cigarette hanging from his lip before he brings his fingers up to grab it and inhale. His brows are knit together, still beyond bothered by the dispute that just occurred.

“Nevermind.” You mumble.

His gaze meets yours, lashes casting perfect shadows just over his cheek bones in the warm lighting of the street lamp and once again, among all the darkness that pools in those chocolatey irises, there is a twinkle. Barely noticeable but still there.

“What?” He urges again, voice monotone.

“Did you…did he…?”

“Did I fuck him up?” He asks, brows raised.

You nod bashfully, a hint of fear flashing in your eyes.

“No.” Eddie scoffs. “I should’ve though.” He flicks the ash from his cigarette toward the ground. “Motherfucker.” He mumbles.

“Why didn’t you then?”

It was too forward and you had no business asking. Really, it just tumbled out, off of your tongue, barely a thought behind it before it was too late. Now you were just asking for a reaction, not a good one at that.

“It was either that or let Bambi suffocate in the bathroom. Gotta pick your battles.” He gestures toward you, shrugging.

It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you were bracing for a bigger explosion. Waiting for him to tell you to get back to work and to stop asking questions. But he didn’t. He just continued to kick little pebbles around on the pavement, his boot scuffing along the surface as he smoked. He looked relaxed for once.

“Oh.” You reply, staring down at your own shoes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Is apologizing like…your hobby?” He questions, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“Well–uh no, no–”

“I love that you’re out here having bonding time but I’m a one man show in there and I need some supporting acts.” Jett interrupts, the door creating a gust of wind and then flooding you with temporary warmth from the air inside. “I at least need Eddie.” He pleads.

Nodding frantically, you begin to make your way back inside, Jett already speeding off to resume his duties.

“Hey, you okay to go back in there?” Eddie asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. “You can take another minute–”

“I’m fine.” You insist. He didn’t need further evidence that you were frail and incapable. Whether it was intentional or not, he had bruised your sliver of self-confidence.

–

The rush was finally over, the last of it being a party of ten which left a table full of dishes to be delivered to the kitchen for washing. Each plate was stacked in your palms, piled high as you worked one hand out from underneath to add on a few cups, cutting down on the amount of trips you would need to make. You’d blocked out the vile events that occurred earlier in the night, at least until you had time to cry about it to yourself which when working at The Bourbon, there was never time for that. So it would have to wait until the drive home. Maybe you’d even save it for the shower where you could truly release all of your emotions in peace, no judging eyes or risk of a car accident.

Successfully stacking a few cups among the tower of plates, you spin on your heel, making your way toward the kitchen as the others cleaned up, Jett wiping down the bar and kicking out the lingering drunks, and Eddie cleaning up the mess that the pool table had become. It was 1:00 AM and if everyone did their part, you’d be out of here by at least 1:30. Tensions had been high all night, one inconvenience after another occurring, only adding onto everyone’s stress and only giving more incentive to clean quicker and go home. A broken glass here, a messed up order there.

The kitchen door is just in reach and when you push into it with your shoulder, all of your calculations fail, the pile of plates collapsing as they hit the door frame rather than dodging it like you intended. Each plate crashes against the floor, shattering into pieces, a few of the cups also breaking on impact. It was the icing on the cake of a bad night, the final straw and your reason to burst into tears and yet you don’t.

Not yet.

Not here.

A total of four eyeballs watch in shock, two more joining in as Randy, the cook peeks out from the kitchen door. Though the tears didn’t burst from your eyes quite yet, they did sting, they stung horribly. You could feel them brimming at your waterline, just a centimeter away from trickling down your cheek and exposing you as the biggest crybaby in the world. If it wasn’t already apparent.

Do not cry.

And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Eddie seemed to completely reverse his gentle attitude you’d become suddenly accustomed to earlier.

“What the hell.” He glares, slowly approaching as he sets a few glasses back down on the pool table. “Do you watch where you’re going? Do you have eyes?” He asks.

You don’t dare answer, frozen in place as your nerves tingle in panic once again. You don’t feel real. You feel as if your spirit has risen from your body and is watching over the conversation playing out.

“Now I’m out what–ten or so plates? Do you know what it costs–”

“Eddie.” Jett tries to take control of the situation, taking notice of your watering eyes. And unfortunately so does Eddie.

“What–oh, you’re gonna cry? What did I tell you? I told you this job wasn’t for someone like you.” Eddie snaps.

He was bitter, unpleasantly bitter like a shitty cup of coffee.

“Eddie, stop it.” Jett tries to defend you, though you wish you could defend yourself so you didn’t seem so pathetic.

“I told you I can’t babysit you–”

“I know.” You manage to quietly sob, bending down to start collecting the broken pieces. There’s an awkward moment of silence, the air thick with tension and anticipation of more insults. All you can do is wait.

“Just leave it, just–leave it.” Eddie sighs, running a hand through his bangs. “Just go home.”

The demand isn’t necessarily an insult like you’d imagined but it still feels backhanded. Like he was telling you ‘I told you so’ and rubbing it in your face. As if he gave you a chance with the means of preparing for this moment, the moment you fucked up even slightly.

“I’m gonna get the broom.” Jett says, eyes wide as he scampers to the back.

Staring up at Eddie, large pieces of plate collected in your hand, all you can make out in his eyes is outrage. Downplayed outrage that hadn’t fully escaped yet and you didn’t want to hang around long enough to witness it. He was capable of much more than he was letting on.

“If you can’t handle–”

“You know Eddie, you’re just mean. You’re being mean.” You declare through a frown, internally screaming at yourself to keep it together, to not let a tear spill over. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching you cry.

“Did you know you never even asked for my name?” You swipe underneath your eyes, catching any tears that longed to trail down your cheeks, displaying your distress, instead wiping them on your apron.

His unkind stare lets up, eyes softening ever so slightly.

Too late.

“I’m not a person to you.” You drop the shards from your hands, standing up to head toward the back for your things.

“Wait–”

If he kept talking, you didn’t stick around to hear it. You scooped up your bag from the rusting lockers toward the back of the kitchen, tucked away in a corner before striding to the front, toward the bar. If he thought you were some kind of an entitled brat that needed babysitting then you were going to give him more than he bargained for. Granted, you weren’t thinking straight either, the stress of the night only adding up and creating an outburst you would otherwise bottle up.

Grabbing a shot glass from under the bar, you reach for one of the nicer tequilas, something smoother that wouldn’t burn as much. Tequila always put you in a good mood and never gave you a hangover. Filling the shot glass, you don’t even bother looking over at Eddie or Jett, who was now sweeping broken plates into a dustpan.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hurries over, staring you down. All you offer him in response is a shrug before tossing the liquor back.

Refilling the glass, you sneak a glance over at him from across the counter, his jaw dropped in shock and his face red and flushed with anger. Steam was nearly shooting out of his ears. The second shot is thrown back and your muscles begin to relax, anxieties melting away even at the basis of creating more problems.

If that wasn’t enough for him, you finished it off with a third shot, hoping it wouldn’t be too much all at once. You were brave enough to look right into his eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, calmer but still heated.

“I’m just acting how you think I should.” You answer, a fake smile painted across your lips.

“I’m not comping those.”

His focus burns into you, lips in a tight line as he watches. If looks could kill. For the second time that night. Except this time, you were on the receiving end and had you not been three shots in, it would’ve terrified you and had you apologizing profusely.

“Well, I’m not paying for them.” You say, pouring yourself one more for good measure, swallowing it like it was water.

As you go to make your big exit, you’re faced with a harsh reality. You’re definitely drunk, or at least very close to being drunk as the alcohol consumes your body, and you’re definitely not driving home like this. You did not think this through. But you kept walking anyway through the kitchen and out to the back just to lean against the concrete wall pathetically. You were starting to wish that you’d gulped down some water before leaving to aid in sobering up.

If the sight of you leaning against the wall behind a bar at 1:12 AM wasn’t sad enough, tack on the fact that you had finally let the waterworks flow, your drunk self especially susceptible to your muddled emotions.

“Bambi, what the fuck. You gonna drive?” Eddie emerges from the kitchen door leading outside, seemingly cooled down but you still don’t trust it.

“Don’t call ‘m Bambi.” You slur.

“What are you doing out here?” He ignores your protest.

“‘Jus gimme a few minutes.” You whine, eyes shut as if it would make him disappear.

“No, not a few minutes. You’re not driving.”

You never intended on driving but you were finding it difficult to fight him off in your discombobulated state, willing to say anything to get him to leave. Obviously he had the upper hand at this moment, clearly able to outsmart you.

“I know.” You wail, tears on full display for him.

“I’ll drive you, let me get my keys.”

“Nooo, wha ‘bout Jett?” You ask, wiping away your tears, mascara coating your fingertips.

“Jett doesn't live right next door to you, you’d just be making him go out of his way for no reason.”

Snot dripping from your nose, you glare up at him, earning an expectant stare from him. All you can do is roll your eyes, too drunk to care anymore. You still preferred having Jett go out of his way, at least he respected you as a person. But the argument was lost among gargled thoughts and a short term memory.

“Still mean.” You insult, finger poking at his chest harshly. It doesn’t do much.

It feels like hours that you two are staring at each other, likely due to the alcohol running through your system. He hesitates in running back inside, even if just for a few seconds to grab his keys, his eyes looking you over in concern. A muttered ‘be right back’ is heard and then he’s gone.

The stars catch your attention, drastically brighter than they would be back home, many more of them too. A few stand out, gleaming in the sky and making them that much more admirable. Your mind drifts off to thoughts of the Milky Way, swirling around the universe and ultimately making you feel infinitely smaller and more insignificant.

What was your place?

Eddie steps back out, keys twirling around his fingers, straight-faced, not an ounce of amusement in his handsome features. Glancing at him briefly, you then tilt your head back up toward the sky, dazed and almost in a trance. If you weren’t careful, you could’ve been staring at him like that. But you weren’t that drunk.

Or so you thought.

Thinking about it, you must have been the spitting image of insane; mascara smeared across your face, tears glimmering in the moonlight, and your bottom lip set in a perfect pout like a child waiting to get their way. Your bag was twisted around your body in the most uncomfortable way but you couldn’t find it in you to untwist it and realistically, you should be wearing your jacket but instead its clutched in your fist, the cold pricking at your skin and eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. The chattering of your teeth interrupted the silence and played as the soundtrack of your hazy daydreaming.

It also let Eddie know that he needed to either force you to put your jacket on, or get you in the car. And he knew he wouldn’t win that first battle so ushering you to the passenger seat it was.

“C’mon.” Is all he says, huffing out a breath.

You vaguely recall being helped into the passenger’s side but you don’t remember walking a few yards to actually reach the car or if you were even able to do so on your own. From what you could tell in your state, his car was a beaten up thing, kinda old but it smelled like those little pine tree air fresheners.

Once the scenery outside started to move, all thoughts subsided, the only one left was solely to keep yourself from vomiting all over your boss’s car. You would stoop as low as to drink his most expensive tequila but vomiting all over his carpeted floor was another low you wouldn’t dream of wishing upon anybody.

Trees zoomed by and you were sure you were going cross eyed from trying to keep up with each and every one. Some metal song plays through the speakers but in your own little world, you hardly hear it, still subconsciously bobbing your head to the fading beat.

One minute you were sitting content in your dream land, the next Eddie was shoving something into your hands while urgently pulling over. Your mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet however, you could vaguely make out Eddie yelling at you to aim for the bag while you stared directly into said bag. When you glanced over at him, everything felt as if it were in slow motion and again, he was panicking while yelling at you to ‘puke in the bag!’.

The perfect cocktail of a situation for an individual so reserved and so inexperienced with this much attention. At least most of it would be a blur by morning.

–

“There you go, just grab my–shoulder! Ow!” Eddie complains, your fingers a bit too comfortable with digging into his skin through his cotton shirt as you attempt to hoist yourself up into a standing position from the passenger seat.

Home was only steps away and then you could collapse wherever you pleased. Forget about this stupid night. At least until you awakened as your regularly anxious self. You’d have a few hours of drunken bliss to forget about life but that’s all you were allowed. Then you would need to face your consequences, whatever they may be. Come the morning, you most likely wouldn’t have a job anymore, Eddie would probably come knocking at your door and let you know that you blew it. And he’d probably laugh in your face at the fact that you proved yourself to be too weak, too dainty, as he so adamantly proclaimed before.

“Oh no.” You mumble, feeling yourself wobbling, knees giving out underneath you.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You’re fine, you’re fine.” Eddie stabilizes you, arms around your waist.

Your limbs might as well be Jello at this point, rendering you a useless human unable to even stumble to your destination. It dawns on you that you can’t remember if you even actually puked in the car or not. Was it coating his interior or had you shoved your head in the bag just in time to spew your guts? Or did you bravely swallow it down? Whatever the case, Eddie doesn’t seem to currently have any grievances or any trouble touching you so you must have been somewhat responsible about it.

Your weight depends on him, leaning into his chest as he practically carries you toward the house. Your eyes flutter repeatedly and—your question of whether you had already puked or not is quickly answered as the contents of your stomach spill out and onto his shirt before you’re able to aim for the ground. Humiliation was starting to look like your middle name.

As you dry heave and allow a long string of saliva to drip from your mouth while hunched over in the dirt, you hear Eddie muttering several curses. You think for sure he’s going to ditch you for creating such a stir up throughout the night until his boots come into view in front of you, his hand pulling the hair away from your face as you finish emptying your stomach.

“Okay.” He sighs. “Puke it out.” A hesitant hand smoothes over your back, the lightest touch.

The smell of putrid vomit invades his nose, nausea threatening to take over him as well if he didn’t hold his breath. Try as he may to ignore the chunks of god knows what on his shirt, it was still all that was on his mind. He didn’t even want to chance looking down if there was the slightest possibility that it had also gotten in his hair. Even being covered in your sick, he knows he should be fuming. But he’s not and it's all so puzzling.

You marched your ass behind his bar and consumed more tequila than you could handle which in turn forced him to drive you home and then you vomited all over him. If that’s not enough reason to be pissed beyond belief then he doesn’t know what is. Yet he remains calm and collected, running his hand between your shoulder blades as he soothes you throughout your dry heaving and gagging.

“It won’t–oh god–it won’t stop.” You sob, looking up at him, a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva coating the lower half of your face.

You look repulsive and yet he can’t tear his eyes away from you. The prettiest definition of repulsive he’d ever seen.

“Don’t hold it back, let it all out. You’re only gonna feel like shit if you hold any of it in.” He instructs, kneeling down to meet your eye level.

With a few sniffles and hiccups, you nod. Only now you’re hyper aware of being watched. It was a sobering experience, puking right in front of your house, not able to even make it to the nearest toilet while your boss spectates and–oh.

It hits you that the front of his shirt is caked in your puke, bile soaking the fabric while remnants of your late lunch displays itself on his perfect black shirt. You would never live this down and you would certainly never work another shift at The Bourbon again. Even if he did scream at you for no good reason, you took it a few levels too far.

“Y-your shirt, oh no–”

“Relax, okay, Bambi? I can handle a little puke, now where’s your key?” He asks.

It’s not that he could handle a little puke, he had to. Because what good would it do if the two of you were both throwing up in your front yard?

Attempting to answer him, the rest of your stomach interrupts and unexpectedly spews all over his combat boots. As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.” You whimper, glassy eyes staring up at him with regret. “I din’t mean it, I swear, m’ just–”

“I know.” Eddie exhales. “You done puking, is there anything else left in there?”

Shaking your head in sorrow, a few more hiccups escape your lungs but there are no further signs that you’re going to be sick again. Even if you were, it didn’t matter anymore, Eddie was already well acquainted with your vomit, what harm would a little more do at this point?

As you start shuffling through your bag and patting at your pockets, panic settles in and you can only recall that the last place you’d seen your keys was at the bar, where you set them down to spitefully gulp down as much tequila as you could. Now it was biting you in the ass, hard.

“Left my keys at the bar.” You pout pitifully.

Eddie glares at you, rightfully so. The man was covered in foul smelling vomit, kneeling on the ground, taking care of you.

“Fucking christ.” He mumbles.

~end~

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #stranger things au #stranger things fic #stranger things

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gloomzombie · 8 months ago

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I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None(?)(( Let me know if I need to put any!))

Word Count: 4,276

Chapter Four: Follow You

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

August 20. 10:23 pm.

“So, how’s school going for you, Y/N?” The question is one I’ve been asked thousands of times before, all from John, and all usually around the same time; but coming from Ms. Taylor’s comforting voice doesn't fill me with unnecessary anger. I take a bite of the reheated spaghetti and look up at her. She sits across from me at the small dining table, and Gage sits on my left, his gaze and focus on his food. Part of me wishes he were focused on me, but the other part knows it’s selfish to think that way- even when I can’t get them out of my head. “It’s going fine, thanks. So far, the work’s been pretty easy and I’ve got enough friends to enjoy it.” It’s only partially a lie. I have enough friends for me, though I’m sure three- maybe four now that I’ve properly met Stacy- isn’t what anyone else would consider “enough friends.”

She smiles at me, her lips now wiped clean from the red lipstick she adorned earlier. She’s not eating with us, only drinking sips of her red wine. Gage told me this is normal if she’s gone out; sitting at the dinner table and chatting with him about his day and what he’s thinking, even if she already ate. It’s such a nice thing to do, and on days where I mope wishing John could’ve been better, or wishing I had a better dad in general, I could see myself wanting this with him- or with a better parent- or maybe Mom. If she were still here, would she have stayed with him? If she did, would she still stay even after he started losing his memory? Would he be a better person if she were with us?

I shake the thoughts from my head, focusing back onto my plate in front of me. I can’t cry in front of her again, and I definitely can’t in front of Gage. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad you have good friends to hang out with.” She smirks as she glances at Gage, then back at me. “And a boyfriend.” Gage’s head snaps up to her, his face all pink. How sweet. “Mom! I told you he’s not my boyfriend.” He argues, though not strongly, his face turning brighter with the words he speaks. She just smiles and giggles. “Mhmm, whatever you say, baby.” She leans over and places a kiss on his cheek, to which he leans away from. “Momm, please,” He spluttered, exasperated. She just peppers kisses all over his cheek, ignoring him. I can’t help the smile that creases my lips, watching them silently. I can see how he could be embarrassed by her, but really, he’s so lucky to have a mom like her. She giggles and pulls away. “Fine, fine.” She readjusts in her seat, a proud smile tugging at her lips. Gage lets his messy bangs fall over his face, though his hair’s not long enough to cover the smile that mirrors his mothers.

August 20. 11:12 pm.

After dinner, Gage practically drags me up the stairs with him, his hand never loosening its grasp on mine. His mom only smiles at us as we go, which makes a blush rise up my neck and into my cheeks. As he leads me to his room, I can’t help but smile. He’s gotten more confident with me, I can tell. God, why does that make me feel the way it does? I shut the door behind me and he reaches his arm past me, twisting the lock as he looks up at me. I smirk down at him, his beautiful sage colored eyes gazing into mine. My smirk softens into a smile and he seems to notice, a light pink tint grazing his cheeks, his nose, the tips of his ears.

The buzz of the alcohol has worn down by now, having been a few hours ago; but nonetheless, the adrenaline I feel right now is almost unbearable. In one swift motion, I wrap my arms around his waist and hoist him up into my arms. He squeaks and his legs wrap instinctively around my hips, his arms around my neck. I press my lips up against his, him responding in kind; kissing me back almost as passionately, though I can still feel the shyness of it. I waste no time in carrying him to his bed, laying him in it and breaking the kiss. His eyelids flutter open, his green eyes dark in the dim light; the only light being the deep, navy blue lamp on his bedside table. I need him.

His limbs never tear away from me, and they pull me onto him, as he gazes up at me with those fucking eyes. The way he’s looking at me now is something I’ve desperately wanted for years. He’s so fucking addicting. I kick my shoes off, letting them fall wherever. He watches me intently with an undeniable blush grazing his soft, delicate features as I sit up in his lap and pull my shirt up and off of me. I throw it on the floor, keeping eye contact with the boy underneath me. I can feel him already, a pulsing feeling against my leg and I don’t even try to hide the smile that makes its way onto my face. I lean down to kiss his neck, some of the strands of my hair falling and brushing against him.

“Please, Y/N.” He whispers, his voice a tad higher than usual. I look up at him. Fuck, did I go too far? I got so caught up in the feeling of him; the feeling of just being with him, that I didn’t pay enough attention to what he may be feeling. “Everything alright, Gage?” I ask, bringing my head up a bit so I can look down at him comfortably. He glances up at the ceiling, resting his head down on the pillow. “I..I think so. I just…” he hesitates, and I can feel the nauseating wave of guilt wash over me. I chew on my bottom lip, but I don’t tear the skin as much as I’d like to. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

The heat in my cheeks spreads to my ears and I feel so uncomfortably hot. I sit up, still in his lap, but giving him space if he so wants it. “I-I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before I-” “No. Don’t do that.” He rises to sit up, his full focus on me; with his hands sliding down my arms to intertwine his fingers with mine. “I…I want everything you’ve done, and everything you want to do.” His face can’t get any redder, so evident under the blue light. I feel the relief flood over me, drowning out the guilt from before. His eyes drop to the floor, but he brings them back up just as quickly as he dropped them. “I want you, Y/N, but not just like this.” He mutters, leaning his forehead against mine. I can feel his breath against my lips this way. “Are you saying..you want to go out with me?” I ask, and the question is one I’ve never asked before.

Despite sleeping with people in the past, I’ve never actually been on a date. I’ve gone out with people, sure, but they never saw me as anything but a friend; or a toy to use for sex and nothing more. The thought of going out with Gage runs through my mind, and my body reacts; my heartbeat thrums in my ears, a repetitive thump, thumping sound; my stomach feels like it's churning- but not in the bad way I’ve grown so accustomed to. He smiles his sweet little smile and I can’t deny the way it makes me feel so nervous. “Yes, Y/N. I’ve wanted to for months, maybe a year now.” I smile sheepishly.

Oh, yeah. I forgot Gage had his eyes on me for months before he got the courage to talk to me. I can’t believe I didn’t notice him before, but I guess it makes sense; we both prefer to stand on the sidelines, unnoticed by the crowd. I just wish I had noticed him sooner. “Then, let’s go on a date.” I speak nervously. The words are foreign coming from my mouth. I’ve never been asked out before, and never asked anyone else out either. He adjusts to sit up straighter, and I slide off of his lap, sitting in front of him, though his hands never break from mine. “I’d love that.” He shakes his hair out from behind his ears, his bangs covering his eyes; but I catch the sudden color in his face. He’s still so nervous around me, as I am with him. I laugh; a real laugh that makes me feel so light.

He smiles, a wide and open smile. “What?” He asks and I shake my head, still laughing. “I just..I don’t think I’ve liked anyone the way I like you before.” I squeeze his hands, warm in mine. He flushes and giggles. “I could say the same to you, lover.” Lover. The pet name leaves me feeling so fuzzy. My stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. I close the small gap between us, pressing my lips against his in a way I haven’t with anyone before him. I can feel him smile through the kiss, and I smile too.

August 21. 1:24 am.

“Wait, you’re telling me with all of those bands you like, you’ve never been to a concert before?” Gage asks as he sips his tea, sitting in a booth opposite from mine. I shake my head. “Nope. I mean- I wish I had of course, but…” I gaze at the floor of the dimly lit 24-hour cafè. “I’ve just never had the money for it when they do come here.” A lie. I hate to lie, especially to people I actually give a shit about- but really, there’s no way around it with the way I have to live. I don’t want to drop my shitty situation onto him, so it’s so much easier- nicer- to lie.

He nods. “I get that. Where’d you say you work again?” He wonders aloud, tilting his head. I take a bite of the semi-warm chocolate chip cookie in my hand. “Library. I’m the assistant,” I place the cookie down. “Y’know, putting books back where they belong and shit.” He smiles sweetly, and I can’t help but to smile too. “Awh, do you like that? I know you read a lot.” I sigh, leaning against the cushiony booth behind me. I love the way he just knows stuff about me.

“I do, actually. It's good pay and when there’s nothing else to do and no people that need help, I can read.” I pick up my glass of coke and take a few sips of it. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve been wanting to get into reading lately,” his fingers tap lightly on the mug in his hands. “I just don’t really know where to start.” I perk up at that, placing my glass down. “I have a lot of books you could read!” I smile sheepishly. “The first and only piece of furniture I bought was my own bookcase. I started getting too many books, they all couldn't fit on my desk anymore,” I could feel my face heat up.

He giggles, making my face feel even warmer. “That’s..really cute actually.” I huff. “Hey, you’re supposed to be the cute one,” I argue teasingly, finishing the last bit of my cookie. He shakes his head, giggling some more before taking another sip of his tea. “You can be cute sometimes too.” I shake my head too, giving up.

We continued talking for a bit in that shabby little diner. I’m still surprised his mom let us go out so late. John doesn’t even like me going out past sundown. Even though it’s been only a week of talking to him, I think I’m starting to really like him. I can’t let myself rush into this like I usually do, though. If Gage is good for me, the last thing I want to do is mess that up. The walk back to Gage’s house is silent- a comfortable silence. His hand is warm in mine, contrast to the chill of the late summer breeze. I can’t stop smiling until we reach the door.

He takes out his keys and unlocks it, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. He smiles at me and takes my hand again as he leads me inside. I don’t smile back, my cheeks are sore from all the smiling I’ve already done. I shut and lock the door behind me. He takes me upstairs and into his room. I take off my shoes and place them neatly by his door, watching as he does the same.

I sigh as I lie down on his comfy bed. It’s much nicer than mine, soft but firm. Mine is missing springs, dents in the mattress where they should be. “I’m gonna take a shower.” I look over at Gage and he’s pulling his sweater over his head. I can’t help but smile at the sight, my cheeks screaming in protest. I’ve never seen him without it. His t-shirt hangs loosely on his thin frame, making him look smaller than he already is. “I didn’t think you could look any cuter.” I move to lay on my side, resting my head on my hand. He smiles at me, though I can see the light blush at his ears. “Shush. Do you want one after me?” I think for a bit. I probably should. “Yeah, sure. As long as I get to listen to music.” He giggles. “If you want. I won’t take long.” He takes out some clothes from his drawer, then goes to the bathroom in his room. He shuts the door and I pick up my phone. I turned it off a while ago, so I could enjoy my time with Gage.

I turn it on, chewing on my lip as I wait for the android screen to change. As soon as it does, practically a million notifications pop up. I groan, already knowing where most of them came from. I scroll through and swipe away all the missed calls and messages from John. There’s no point in responding now. I’ll send him a message in the morning. I get rid of all the youtube notifications. I don’t really feel like watching any of them. I stop when I see Xander’s name.

August 21. 12:34am.

Xander: Hey Y/N. We need to talk. Meet tmmr at 2?

I can’t help but stare wide-eyed at the message. He hasn’t texted me since…June 7th- when he asked me to come meet him at the mall with his now ex girlfriend. What is it he wants to talk about? We’ve needed to talk for the past 5 goddamn months. I swear to god, if he wants to talk about some dumb shit again, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from blowing up on him this time.

I roll my eyes and text him back. Despite being really annoyed, I really do want to talk with him. Even if he wants to talk about dumb shit, I’ll make him listen to me.

August 21. 2:13am.

okay. where?

As I’m placing my phone down, the screen lights up again. My eyebrows furrow. Xander messaged me back already? Bitch must be desperate.

Xander: How about that bookstore you always wont shut up about?

Okay, consider me confused. He’s never wanted to go to the bookstore, let alone go somewhere that I like. I sit up, texting him back again.

works with me, but why there?

Xander: Idk. Thought youd like that ig. Could get lunch after. I’ll pay

i cant say no to free food

Xander: K. C u then

C u

I hear the sound of the door swinging open and I look over. All thoughts of Xander escape my mind as I gape at the boy by the door. “Told you I wouldn’t take long,” Gage mumbles as he dries his hair with a towel. I can feel the bite of the blush rising up my cheeks. “I didn’t doubt you.” I look back down at my phone for just a minute, clicking out of the messages app and opening my music app. I look back at him and he’s shaking his head. Adorable. I stand up, sliding my phone in my pocket. I walk over to him and he flushes as I get closer. “You look so pretty,” I smile before placing a small kiss on his lips. His face goes pink and the bathroom light illuminating his face doesn’t hide it at all. He shakes his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Take your shower, dummy.” He goes to the edge of his bed, kneeling down to open my backpack. I chuckle as I watch him take out my clothes. I wonder how he’d look in them.

After my shower, I look in the mirror as I dry my hair. I sigh, leaning closer to look at the deep purple lines under my eyes. They’ve been getting worse even though I’ve been getting…okay sleep. Could be stress, I guess. Or maybe it’s the nightmares finally catching up to me. I turn my gaze away, tossing the towel into the hamper by the door. I turn off the light and open the door. Gage is already in bed, his phone placed on the bedside table. He moves his arm over the blanket, lifting it up. “I’m tired. Come sleep?” I smile sheepishly and place my phone on the table next to his before sliding into bed with him.

August 21. 10:16am.

Sleeping in a bed next to Gage made the nightmare go away. I didn’t dream or anything, but that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while. I look down at the boy beside me. The light peeking through his curtains bathes him in a light that makes his skin look like it’s glowing. The sight takes my breath away. I move my hand up to brush his bangs out of his face slowly, pressing my fingertips against his face. I don’t dare move anything else. I don’t want to wake him up. I let out a silent breath. I try not to think of the messages I must have from John. I need to stop letting him ruin these moments for me, especially when he’s not even fucking here.

“You like watching me sleep? Creep,” Gage murmurs, his eyes opening slowly. My face heats up. “How could I not when you look this enchanting?” I smile. He closes his eyes again, a smile of his own touching his lips. “Shut uppp,” he whines, scooching closer to me. He pushes his face into my chest, and I laugh. “Going back to sleep?” I ask as I pet his hair. He hums and it vibrates my chest, making me feel so nervous. He mumbles something against my shirt. “What was that?” I chuckle. He pulls back, groaning. “I said I guess I probably shouldn’t. You need to go home sometime today.” He stretches, and I watch him. “Doesn’t that just mean we have to spend as much time together as we can until I leave?” I smile. He huffs and looks up at me. “I guess.” He tries but fails, a smile pulling at his lips.

After we share a few more kisses, we decide to get up and get something to eat. We walk hand in hand down the sidewalk for a while. He’s taking me to his favorite breakfast place that’s just outside his neighborhood.

My gaze is on the houses as we pass them. His neighborhood is the nicest I’ve ever been in, which doesn’t say much. All my previous friends have had run-down looking houses, and the others in their neighborhoods weren’t any better. The best was always Xander’s, until he moved out of his parents’ to live in a shitty garage-turned-apartment on his own. Xander. I miss Xander. My face droops a bit at the thought of him, and the thought of seeing him later today. I think Gage notices, but if he does he doesn’t say anything. I chew on my lip. I don’t need to think about him when I’m with Gage.

He leads me up to the door of the restaurant and opens it for me. I smile. “Already opening doors for me,” I smirk smugly. “Shhhh,” He shushes, walking in after me. The restaurant is small, about five tables inside with two outside. The smell of butter, syrup, and eggs fills the air with an oddly comforting scent. I walk him over to a table with two chairs in the corner, right by the window. He sits in the chair opposite of mine, and I look out the window. From here, I can really see how nice his area is. The sidewalks on either side are free from overgrown grass and cracks in the cement; no potholes in the pavement nor broken beer cans or burnt and stomped out cigarettes. Though he doesn’t live far away from me, we’re still miles apart.

“Hi, welcome to Granny’s kitchen. What can I get you?” I turn my gaze to see a short, dark skinned girl. She looks around our age, no lines of age gracing her clear skin. Her hair is braided and tied back into a low ponytail. There’s menus already laid on the table. How was I so focused on just the outside? I pick up the menu, my eyes scanning the laminated paper quickly to find something. I feel Gage’s fingers on my hands, sliding up and down so gently I almost didn’t catch it. “We’re gonna need a bit more time. Could I get a cup of herbal tea?” I look back up at him, and though he’s speaking to her, his eyes are on me- and he’s smiling. My face flushes and I resist the all too familiar urge to pull away. The waitress nods at him then turns to me.

“And for you?” She asks. “I’ll just have water.” She offers me a small smile. “Gotcha. I’ll be back with those drinks in a bit.” She turns away and heads to the kitchen door. I look at Gage, and his fingers are tracing mine as my hands still grip the menu. I bite my lip and look down. On the menu are a selection of breakfast, lunch, and dinner options. Though I prefer dinner or even lunch over any breakfast stuff, the chocolate chip pancakes catch my eye.

Under the breakfast options are breakfast sides to choose from. I can’t eat much, so I’m going to have to hope they let me get the kids. “Do you know what you’re getting?” Gage’s voice brings me out of my thinking. I look up at him. “Oh. Yeah, I think so. Um, do you know if they have an age limit for the kids portions?” I ask nervously. It feels so embarrassing to ask a question like that. What kind of 17 year old boy orders off the kids menu?

“No, they don’t.” And there’s that sweet smile. “I usually order off of it. I don’t have a big appetite most of the time,” his hand is still resting on mine and, instinctively, I pull my arm away. Something keeps me from letting him touch me this much, in this way; I don’t know what, but right now, I don’t really care to think about it. “Good. Me neither.” I respond, my gaze dropping back to the menu, though I’m done reading it. He doesn’t speak up again until the waitress comes up to the table, which makes me wonder if I did something wrong.

“Here’s your tea, and your coke,” She speaks as she places our drinks down in front of us. She smiles, and I can see she’s got those cool fang piercings. “Need more time?” She asks, glancing from me to Gage and back. “I think we’re good.” I look over at Gage and he nods. “I’ll have the kid’s chocolate chip pancakes with bacon.” I don’t usually eat out like this, so the words sound shaky and not right coming out of my mouth. Luckily, the waitress doesn’t seem to mind, or care. “Alright, and for you?”

Gage tells her his order, and she walks back off after telling us it won’t take long. The rest of the breakfast goes by quickly, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I like spending time with Gage, especially when it could be considered as a date, but I can’t help but feel this weird sinking feeling. As if something’s going to go wrong at any moment. That, plus I’ve been so anxious the whole time about seeing Xander in just a few hours. It doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right.

When I went to take the bill, Gage swoops it up. “I was gonna-” “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. You paid at the diner last night,” He smiled at me before taking out his card. I bit my lip. I wanted to say he doesn’t have to. I wanted to say he shouldn’t pay for me because I don’t deserve that kind of treatment. But, as always, I said nothing.

#jeff the killer #creepypasta #creepypasta x you #jeff the killer headcanons #jeff the killer x male reader #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer x you #male reader #x male reader #slenderman

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luvangelbreak · 9 months ago

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Deprived | Eight

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smut? (whoops), male!masturbation, abuse? (nothing heavy) word count: 2.5k a/n: y'all this is my first time attempting some sort of smut so if its bad GIVE ME A BREAK. i tried my gosh darndest i swear.

pov: layla

After staying at Downs with Matt and his friends for a few more hours, he and Chris dropped me at my house around 10 pm. I unbuckled my seatbelt as I leaned forward to put my elbows on the console between them as Chris hummed along to the song that he was playing on aux.

"Thanks for coming tonight," Matt smiled at me and I returned it quickly along with a nod.

"Thanks for letting me," I smiled up at him, my high slowly fading now that it had been a few hours since I smoked, "I'll see you guys at school."

They both returned their own versions of goodbyes as I slid out of the backseat, closing the door behind me. I sighed when I noticed my dad's car in the driveway, hoping that he was asleep already.

Much to my dismay, the moment I opened the front door and Matt drove away, I heard his footsteps travel down the hallway. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as I closed the door behind me before I opened them again to see him standing there, swaying back and forth as he looked at me with dead eyes.

"Where were you?" he slurred, trying to sound angry but he just looked tired and out of it. I adjusted my phone in my pocket and looked over to him.

"I messaged you. I was at a friend's hockey game," I answered truthfully and he furrowed his eyebrows further as he took a step towards me making me tense. I didn't move from my place in front of the door, my body being frozen.

"Did you take the brick to Wes?" he asked me and I shook my head, hearing him huff as I looked at my feet.

"He said he wanted it tomorrow. I'll do it then," I answered quietly and I felt my breath catch in my throat as he stepped even closer to me.

"What did I say about mumbling?" he said through gritted teeth and I swallowed my nerves, lifting my head to see he was only a foot from me.

"I'll do it tomorrow," I answered him clearly and he just stared at me, a rage behind his eyes that was always misplaced. I knew he was never mad at me, I did everything he wanted me to, but he had to take his anger out on someone and I was always the only person around.

"You better start pulling your act together," he pointed a lazy finger at me, eyes drooping as he did so, "Or you will turn out like your bitch of a mother."

"Dad don't say that," I whispered shakily and he shook his head.

"What did I say about talking back?" his voice raised, making me flinch slightly but I continued to stare into his eyes, not backing down as he swayed in his spot.

"I'm sorry. I'll do better," I answered clearly, fitting the urge to throw him out of the house and lock him out.

"I'm going to bed. Don't fucking wake me up tomorrow," he grumbled, trudging back to his room and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I leaned against the front door, hearing his door slam as I closed my eyes. I reached around, locking both locks on the door before I waddled down to my room.

I closed the door behind me, flicking the lights on before I quickly got changed into clothes to sleep in. I looked in the mirror to take my makeup off and I forgot the 81 Matt had painted on my cheek was still there. It was slightly smudged but I smiled to myself, biting my lip before I grabbed a makeup wipe, scrubbing it off of my face before taking the rest of my eye makeup off.

I slid under my covers, checking my phone quickly to see a message from Wes.

Westy 10:21pm yo, when u dropping tmrw?

You 10:23pm probs around 6 that good w u?

Westy 10:24pm ye c u then

I sighed, locking my phone before plugging it in. I turned to stare at the ceiling, adjusting my pillow behind me as my mind travelled to the events of today. I didn't really want to go to Downs but I felt the need to go with Matt, feeling bad if I left immediately once the game ended.

I thought about when I took his phone and the fake anger on his face, making me smile to myself. I became bold when I was high and it wasn't until he was standing in front of me, I decided it would be fun to put his phone in my bra. The feeling of his fingers brushing against the skin of my stomach was enough to raise goosebumps on my skin and I felt like the air had left my lungs when his hand brushed against my boobs. I didn't think it through, now overthinking it and wondering if I went too far.

Was he uncomfortable and I didn't notice? Did he really not want to do it and I misread the situation? Did he hesitate because he was scared to touch me or because he found it unpleasant?

My mind circled with thoughts of anxiety and worry but soon enough, my mind fell to only the feeling of his hands on me as I drifted to sleep, hugging the pillow beside me.

+++

pov: matt

It took me forever to fall asleep, my mind falling to Layla every time I closed my eyes. I don't remember what time I fell asleep but when I woke up at 2 pm, I realised it would be exponentially harder to get my sleep schedule on track when I went back to school on Monday.

I spent the first hour awake just scrolling aimlessly on my phone before I decided to get up, seeing Chris and Nick sitting on the couch. I walked past the living room and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water. I waltzed back into the living room, placing myself on the couch beside Nick.

"Nice of you to join us," Nick said sarcastically as he watched a random movie on the TV and I turned my head to look at him.

"It's the weekend, bro. Give me a break," I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the water before screwing the cap back on.

"I'll give you a break when you stop putting your hand up Layla's shirt in the middle of a parking lot," Nick raised his eyebrows at me and I let my jaw hang open.

"Chris!" I yelled at him and he held his hands up in defence, "It wasn't like that."

"How is touching a girl's tits 'not like that'," Chris smiled and I rolled my eyes, flopping back into the couch.

"She took my phone and put it in her bra. She said the only way I was getting it back was if I grabbed it. So I did," I explained and Nick and Chris shared a look before they both looked at me.

"She would've given it back eventually. She can't hold your phone hostage," Nick deadpanned and I pursed my lips, crossing my arms over my chest as I sank further down into the couch.

"Well, I wanted my phone and I got it. End of story," I mumbled before I heard Chris's chuckle. They didn't say anything further, turning their attention away from me as I stared blankly at the wall.

My mind drifted to her again, the feeling of her skin against my fingertips. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my head fall back onto the couch as I tried to get her out of my mind. I felt like I was in middle school and just discovered a girl's body for the first time, the tent in my sweatpants making it obvious that I was losing my mind over this girl.

I grabbed a blanket, pulling it over my body to hide my now very obvious boner from Chris and Nick. I tried to picture anything else, the classic of my grandma or my brothers doing some stupid shit but to no avail, my mind always travelled back to her.

I wondered what she would look like laying in my bed in nothing but my shirt or what sounds she would make as I slid my hands down her body. I wondered whether she would be loud and dominating or quiet and submissive, my mind leaning towards the former considering she called me a good boy last night.

Good boy.

My mind wouldn't stop reeling her words in my head and I quickly shot up from the couch, throwing the blanket off of myself as I walked out of the room.

"Where you going?" Chris asked me.

"Shower," I quickly responded, not looking back at him as I made a B-line for the bathroom.

I turned on the shower, quickly sliding my clothes off before I stepped in, the warm water covering my skin. I looked down at the tattoos covering my waist, imagining her hands running along them delicately. I groaned, hitting my forehead against the wall of the shower to rid my thoughts.

I never intended to think about her like this, I wanted to be friends, but it was hard to feel that way when everything she did drew me towards her. It started with her eyes, peering up at me with judgement and confusion before it turned to happiness and seductiveness, whether that was her intent or not didn't matter in my brain.

When she bit her lip, the soft pink skin that I wanted nothing more than to bite into right now. I wrapped my hand around the base of my dick, hissing when I felt how hard I was as I pulsed in my own hand. Keeping my head against the wall, I started stroking myself slowly as I panted lightly.

I imagined my hand as hers, her delicate fingers working their way around me easily as the water made it easier to glide over the skin. I let my eyes fall closed, thinking of her brown eyes looking up at me in pleasure before I bucked my hips into my own hand.

I mentally slapped myself for thinking about her like this but I couldn't stop myself. She was bad for me, I knew that, but it made me want her all that much more. Something I shouldn't have being mine was what drew me to her more every day. The way she was so different from me, her life so different from mine, tempted me towards her in ways I hadn't realised until now. The thrill of doing something you shouldn't was intoxicating.

I groaned as I thrusted into my hand, the pleasure building in my stomach as I imagined her in front of me, nails running down my back as her body would press against mine. The way her face would be contorted in pleasure and back arching in bliss. The beautiful noises that would fall from her lips, calling my name back to me to let me know I was the one who could make her feel such a way.

I let out a small whine, almost feeling her arms around me as I came undone and slowed my pace, pumping myself steadily as my tip became red and sensitive. I hissed pulling my hand away from myself as I sighed.

I quickly finished my shower, deciding I didn't have the energy to shave again and just washed my face regularly. I turned off the shower, stepping out and drying myself off. After wrapping my towel around my waist, I picked my clothes up from the floor and exited the bathroom.

I entered my bedroom moments later, shutting the door behind me while shaking my head and throwing my dirty clothes in the laundry. I picked out some sweatpants and a pink shirt, realising I wasn't going anywhere important today.

I sat down at my desk, opened my laptop and played a random playlist on Spotify as I started studying to the best of my ability. Before I knew it an hour had passed and I had barely written anything on the page when I heard a knock at my door.

"Yeah?" I called out, not bothering to turn around. I heard the door open, catching my attention and Chris waltzed into my room, throwing himself on my bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, typing something on his phone as I spun around again.

"Trying to study," I mumbled, tapping my pen against the table as I looked down at the empty page, my thoughts blank when looking at the numbers.

"Since when do you struggle to study," Chris mumbled as I heard him shift on my bed. I looked over to see him now laying on his stomach, his head at the end of the bed that was close to me.

"Since now I guess," I sighed, slumping back in my seat as I placed my hands on my head.

"Someone's pussy whipped," Chris mumbled and I frowned at him, noticing a small smirk on his lips making me roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm pussy whipped over a girl I haven't even hugged. Nice thinking genius," I answered sarcastically and he once again, shifted on my bed to sit up, crossing his legs over each other.

He shrugged, looking at me with tired eyes as he said, "So ask her out?"

"What happened to thinking she was a psychopath?" I asked, squinting my eyes at him and he shrugged once again.

"Maybe I judged too early. She seems chill around you," he answered and I turned my head towards my desk, biting my lip to hide my triumphant smile. I got rid of the smile on my lips before I looked at him again and he said jokingly, "As long as you don't start breaking our sober streak."

"Does one puff of a cigarette count as breaking the sober streak?" I asked hesitantly and I saw his eyebrows furrow.

"What?" he asked, leaning forward so his elbows were on his knees as he looked at me sceptically.

I sighed, running my hand down my face as I mumbled, "That day I went to McDonald's with her. She was smoking and I don't know why but I took it and tried it."

"Matt," Chris groaned and I threw my hands out in front of me.

"I don't know why I did it! It was fucking awful anyway," I explained and he shook his head, clear disappointment, "She just made it look so easy."

"She's already fucking you up," he shook his head, his distaste for her once again peeking through as I sighed.

"It's not her fault. I'm the fucking idiot that didn't think before I did it," I groaned and adjusted my shirt as it rode up my back from sliding down the chair.

"Yeah, you are a fucking idiot," he shook his head, a smile falling onto his lips before mumbling, "Pussy whipped."

"Fuck off!" I threw my pen at him as he jumped off of my bed and ran out of my room giggling like a little kid.

"Nick he's pussy whipped!" I heard him call out to our brother as he jogged down the hall and I rolled my eyes, placing my forehead on my desk in despair.

tags:

@ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo

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constesplanetarium · 1 year ago

Text

Locked out.

☼⚠︎ Marcus (Yandere! Bartender) x GN!Reader

“𝕀𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖? 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣.”

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

Darkness rating ) 4/10: “A little bruise. Want some ice?”

the reader doesn’t have any specific appearance, so you can imagine them however you’d like :)

OK SO I ORIGINALLY WASN’T GONNA WRITE A NEW PART FOR MARCUS BUT OMGG I GOT THE SWEETEST COMMENT EVER ON MY ONESHOT VER. OF HIM AND I JUST HAD TO WRITE FOR HIM AGAIN!!! <3

this is a pretty slow burn into the yandereness, so… AND I GAVE HIM AN APPEARANCE THIS TIME!!! its only mentioned once or twice if you’d rather use ur own headcanon for him :)

if ur new here. i suggest reading the oneshot ver. of him OR reading the short canons to understand the story a bit better. totally not necessary though!!! you can treat this part kind of as a oneshot too of thats the case :)

P.S, theres a new character around the end!!

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

ONESHOT: Right here!

CANONS: Right here!

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

(CONTENT WARNINGS!!!) Light mentions of rape/SA, and potential ominous/possessive behavior.

Also, there’s a small hook-up scene, so light smut/nsfw ;) If you want to skip it, you’ll know when it ends.

Word count: Around 5.8k (Sorry it’s so long lol)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Oh, just great. You clutch at the neckline of your jacket and huff in frustration, the air around you suddenly getting colder. You can’t find your house key. Where the hell did it go? It’s not like it ran off your key ring or something. Ugh, you knew you should’ve got one of those digital keypad thingies. That’ll probably be your next purchase, yeah. You heave a long sigh and whip out your phone, getting ready to call management for a spare, or at the very most, a locksmith.

Fuck, but it’s already 11:43 PM. Who the hell can call a locksmith at this hour? And management hours are already long past operational since they close early on Fridays…

Ugh. You might have to crash at your best friend's place in the next building over, but he always tends to get too clingy once you’re preparing to leave. He probably lost the spare key you gave him to your apartment, too. His annoying voice already rings in your head and you raise a hand to your temple, trying to get rid of the thought quickly.

“Uhm.”

Oh my god!

You swivel around to see Marcus, looking extremely shocked at your reaction. His dark brown hair is as fluffy as always, and his glasses are just a little bit crooked. “Oh, I’m sorry!” The small pile of keys around his finger jingles as he waves his hand around in a panic. “I’m sorry, er, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The nerves that were building inside you suddenly calm down once you register that it’s a familiar face, a very welcome one at that.

“What’s wrong?” He peers at you and the door, and his face flashes with recognition. Yeah, you don’t have your house key, Marcus. “Oh.” He starts to giggle like a schoolgirl and you scowl, shoving him lightly. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” A small mischievous smile pops up on his face, and he whips out his house key off the ring, jingling both his key and the others in front of your face. “Wish you had these, huh?”

This guy…

“Ah, wait, I’m sorry, come back!” You turn and start speed walking towards the stairs, ready to spend the night at your best friend's house. Eh, he might have a sleeping bag for you or something. Maybe he’ll let you sleep in his bed again. His pillows are always comfortable. “Hey! Wait!” Your grumpy steps come to a stop as you hear him running after you, pulling you into a tight hug from behind. It’s almost like he’s choking you with the way he’s grabbing you. So tight. “I didn’t mean it…” He dramatically cries out from behind you, making you sigh as you pat him on the arm to console him. He looks down at you. “So, what’re you going to do now?”

You have no clue.

“Hmm… How about you come with me to the bar again?” You peer up at him and smile, knowing that he probably could help you with some of your work too. You wriggle out of his grasp and start to tug on him, and he cracks up at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay.”

The dim atmosphere of the bar has eased your mind by now, and you take a glance around. There are only a couple of customers here now, a group of three, a couple, and a man sitting alone, scrolling through his phone. You’re not surprised, it’s pretty late.

…Why is he working at the bar this late anyway? Usually, his shift starts at 7:30 PM and ends at 11:30. You tilt your head at the sudden question that enters your head, and you watch him clean some dirty glasses with a wet rag. He looks up at you and a smile forms on his face once you ask.

“I was waiting for you to ask that. There's a simple answer, really.” He sets the glass aside and puts the rag in the sink. “I just had to get something from home. I’m working overtime again, as you can see.” He gestures over to the clock on the wall, it displaying 11:57 PM. “I’m here until 1:30 AM again. Just around an hour and a half.”

You take a small sip of the drink he made you, a virgin margarita. Taking a glance at your open laptop, you frown. Lord. That worksheet looks so… Bad right now.

You shut your laptop and slide it back into your bookbag, making Marcus raise his brow. “I thought you wanted me to help you with your work?” Not anymore. You shake your head and rest your head down on the bar table. You’d rather talk to him instead.

After you say that, the short silence between you two gets a little uncomfortable, and you look up to see what's going on. He’s returned to cleaning the glasses, a gentle smile on his face. You find yourself smiling as well and decide to spark up a conversation.

“How was my shift? Ah, better than last time.” He laughs at the memory and sets the glass aside. “Want another drink?” He points to your almost-finished glass, and you nod eagerly. “Anything different?” With a nod of your head, you decide to ask for a sunrise mocktail.

It would be a little embarrassing to admit that you had searched up virgin bar drinks you would like him to make you in your free time, and even during class once. You made a little list and saved it for later, deciding to go over it when he was driving both of you here.

He smiles and bends down, opening the little fridge you know is there and he pulls out a small bottle of non-alcoholic sparkling wine and orange juice, and some ice. He grabs the grenadine off a shelf behind him and sets everything down. Your mind wanders to the last time you were here, and the shirley temples he made you with the strawberry syrup.

You kind of want it again. It gave the drink a sort of bitter taste, but it wasn’t terrible. It was unique.

“The… Strawberry syrup? You want some?” He gets quieter the more he talks and he looks away, staring at the floor. Confusion fills your head to the brim. Why does he look so happy, but also in shock? Oh, maybe he’s flustered you like the strawberry syrup combo with the grenadine he made? Or maybe they’re all out? “Oh, no, uhm…” He messes with his fingers for a moment. “I don’t know if we have anymore, but I can check.” As he walks to the back, you take another look around the bar. It looks like the couple is getting ready to leave, and the group of three looks extremely tired. You take a glance at the man alone and he’s pouring all of his liquor into a silver flask, glancing at the bar to make sure Marcus isn’t coming back soon. I guess it's a policy that you can’t smuggle alcohol outside, but the bartenders probably don’t care anyway.

You turn back to the bar to see Marcus coming back, with an actual bottle of the stuff. I guess they finally listened to him, huh? “It’s a… Different kind of syrup this time. It’s sweeter, like a lot.” He chuckles and pops the cork off the sparkling wine. “I thought the other one would be too bitter for this drink.” He takes out a tall glass, opens the orange juice, and pours it into the glass so it's half full, and then the sparkling wine. “Grenadine is already pretty sweet, so I’ll go half and half on the syrup too.” He does exactly that, and slowly pours the grenadine in, then the strawberry syrup. The syrup is more… Solid. And brighter in color than it was last time. You can almost smell how sweet it is from here. He slides the drink over to you, and you stare at the pretty ombre effect both of them made at the bottom, just like your Shirley temples.

“If you want, tell me if you want it with the other syrup.” He smiles as you take a sip of the mocktail. The sparkling wine and orange juice mix with each other well, alongside the sweetness of both syrups. It’s good. Really good. It looks like he’s waiting for your rating, standing there, fidgeting his fingers. You smile and take another few sips, giving him a thumbs up. Relief washes over his anxious features and he sighs in delight. “I'm glad you like it.” He rubs his cheek a bit and keeps on glancing between you and the drink. “Uhm, can I ask you something?”

You tilt your head, but nod.

“Are you free on Sunday?” Uh oh. Not Sunday, no. But you let him continue. “We can uh,” He scratches his cheek and fidgets with the buttons on his vest. “We can just stay in my apartment and do some baking. How does that sound?” He bakes?

“Yeah! I uh, I've been working with dough stuff recently. Like cinnamon rolls and biscuits. But my favorite things to make are pies and banana bread.” Oh my god. That sounds so fucking delicious. You get to hang out with him, AND free food? That you get to take home and enjoy? Sign you up.

… Wait. Both of you are already hanging out on Saturday to study, and you’re busy on Sunday with your best friend.

“... Busy Sunday? With what?” He tilts his head at you, and suddenly he looks like a cute puppy. It won’t hurt to tell him, yeah?

“Oh, your best friend? What’re you two going to do?” The bell behind you rings as the couple leaves, leaving just the group of three and the man with the silver flask. As you tell him, you take a glance at your phone to check the time. It’s 12:30 AM. “Coffee shop? Ah, that sounds nice. I hope you have fun.”

…The silence between you two is uncomfortable again. It’s strange, too. As soon as you mention your friend he gets quiet? You look up at him and take a mental note of his expression. Is that anger? Jealousy?

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m okay.” He glances around the bar for a few seconds, and then he turns his attention back to you. His eyes have a soft look in them as he looks at you. “How about instead of studying, we bake?” Great idea. Fuck that class anyway. You nod and he laughs a little, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. “Yeah, I hate the class too. The assignments are always so annoying.”

A couple shuffles and clinks of glass make you turn to see the group of three getting up, and getting ready to leave. “Have a good night.” Marcus murmurs as the three take their leave, the bell ringing above all their heads. Ah, now it's just you, Marcus, and that guy. His eyes trail over to the man sitting there, and then he looks back at you. I guess he’s just waiting for him to leave so you both can talk in peace.

“Hmm? Do I want him to leave?” He whispers to you and looks at the man. The man’s drinking away from his flask, staring off into the night from the window next to him. Marcus chuckles. “Maybe a little. It’s always better when it's just us two.” A wink from him is all it takes to send your heart aflutter. You finally finish the rest of your drink, trying to take your mind off your beating heart. He’s always been so charismatic ever since you started talking to him. “Well… Let’s just talk to pass the time faster. Time flies when you’re having fun, you know?”

Both of you chat and whispe, talking about classes to the weather, until Marcus looks away from you. “Have a good night.” He waves to the customer leaving the bar, and you turn instinctively.

You meet eyes with the same man with the flask. He looks around the age of 35, maybe a little older. You can’t see too much from here, but now that you see him standing up, wow, he is tall. Very tall. He looks you up and down for a moment, a smirk appearing on his features. He waves Marcus a goodbye, “You too,” and then you. “Have a good night, sugar.”

You wave bashfully at him as he dips out the bar, with a little ring of the bell on top of the door. You watch him walk to his car, but not without a small mutter from Marcus.

“Weird ass old man.” He hisses and slams a small shot glass onto the table, covering his mouth afterward. “Oh, uh, sorry…” He chuckles, his hand trembling a bit as he pours you a small shot of a sort of tropical, mango rum. You didn’t even ask for one, but eh, you’ll take it. It’s only one anyway.

But, weird? Hmm… You can’t say that the interaction was weird persay, he probably just thought that you were cute.

“He does that to most people in the bar. He’s probably hoping someone will bend over for him and let him fuck them.” He sighs and watches you down the shot, and he picks up the shot glass himself. “I hear him talk about how he likes to do it rough, and how he’ll do it with a girl whether she likes it or not.” Disgust washes over his neutrality and he downs his shot as quickly as you did. “Fucking pervert.” A shiver rises up your spine and spreads all over your body as you watch the man turn his car on and drive off. Ew.

Goosebumps form on your skin and you try to rub them away, but they stay there. He frowns seeing your reaction and walks over to your side of the bar, rubbing your shoulder affectionately. His warmth is so comforting. “Do you need anything?” You shake your head, but rest your hand on top of his, flashing him a smile. “Sorry to uh, put all of that on you at once.” He tries to laugh it off, but still rubs your shoulder. You shake your head in reassurance that he didn’t do anything wrong. It’s probably just a little shock. The only odd part about it was how aggressive he was, but you understand. “Well, now that we’re both alone.” He hums as he heads for the door, locking it up immediately and turning the sign from “Open” to “Closed again. You raise a brow at the sudden realization that if he’s “closing” up early, why don’t you two just head to his place for a little? You wait till he makes his way next to you, sitting down on the stool to your left, and decide to ask.

“Oh. I thought you just didn’t want to, uh, head to my place this late.” Is he nervous to have you over? He keeps on fidgeting with the buttons on his vest as he speaks, but he can keep eye contact pretty well, you suppose. “Are you sure you want to go?” You’re pretty damn sure. You miss the comfort of being in bed. But first…

One last drink wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Another mocktail?” He smiles and steps off the stool, heading back to the other side of the bar table, and pulls everything out to make it again. As he prepares the drink, you find your mind drifting to that man again. God, what a weirdo. Shivers spread throughout your body as you think about it, and you shake your head lightly, trying to forget the memory. When you turn back to talk to him, the drink is already done and prepared right in front of you. “Boo.” It looks like in the midst of your reminiscence, your head tuned out every noise that he made.

You take a couple of sips as he swivels back around to your side, sitting next to you again. “Finish that drink, and then we’ll go, yeah?” His eyes stay planted on the glass as you keep on drinking, and he laughs. “Let me get a sip or two.” You nod and slide the glass over, watching him take a few sips from the glass. Jeez, he didn’t even turn the glass over to drink from a different spot… Not that you really care, though. It’s just a glass. “Yum.” He licks his lips and sets the drink back down. “Thanks for staying with me for my shift, by the way. I really appreciate it.” Well, it’s not like you could really do anything else, but you smile and nod.

He fidgets the buttons on his vest until, apparently, he can’t take it anymore, and he just starts to unbutton it altogether. He slips it off and places it gently on the table. Oh wow. He has a nice figure, and he does look kind of cute, actually like a puppy.

“... What? Is there something on my face?” He wipes his mouth a little, but you laugh and shake your head. How clueless. “So you just wanna laugh at me instead of telling me what you’re thinking?”

Yep.

“Well, that’s not fair, is it?” He frowns and crosses his arms, glaring at you as he looks you up and down.

… He’s staring down at your thighs longer than any other part. Embarrassment fills your body to the brim as you snap your fingers in his face, then point to yours, like a sort of “my eyes are up here” motion.

“Ah, sorry!” Panic ensues in his face and you can't help but smile. He looks so dumb trying to salvage himself. “I didn’t mean to, uh-” You set a finger on his lips to shut him up, shaking your head. After a few seconds, you don’t even care. In just two weeks of REALLY getting to know him, you’re already so comfortable.

It’s strange, honestly. It’s like you both have been friends for years.

Either way, he can look at you all he wants.

A blush creeps onto his face and he sighs, the embarrassment in his face imminent as his sigh comes out shaky and fragile. “Sorry…” He whispers as you rub his cheek, and you watch him practically melt into your touch. “You’re so warm.” His warm kisses on the inside of your palm spread warm shivers throughout your whole body. He chuckles and keeps rubbing your hand against his cheek. “Sorry, I just, uh,” He’s so cute. “I feel really comfortable around you.” Adorable. He really is just like a puppy. You take the time to run your fingers through his hair with your other hand, and he sighs again. That sounded more like a moan than a sigh, though…

“Can you, uhm…” He groans once you decide to tease him a little, tugging on his hair lightly. “If we really are gonna do something like this,” He shuffles around in his seat, and you have to fight the demons inside yourself to not look down at his crotch. “Should we really do it here?” Do you care? Does he care? He probably doesn’t.

“Do I care?” He frowns at you but shakes his head. “No, no, I, uh, I don’t.” Your hands drag themselves down to his neck as you rub his jawline with your thumb, and you can see him bite the inside of his cheek. He chuckles and looks away from you, starting to fan himself. “Oh wow, it’s kind of hot in here, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, but your hands reach over and start to unbutton his shirt.

He doesn’t make any attempt to stop you in the slightest. “Okay, okay…” While you’re in the middle of trying to unbutton his shirt, he leans in so close in an instant, he’s kissing you so passionately, and grabbing onto the neckline of your jacket. It took you a moment to register what had just happened, but you settled in quickly, and started to kiss him right back. God, are there any cameras here? There probably are. Uh oh. His tongue slips inside and almost distracts you from your thoughts. He can probably delete the footage, right? You slip your tongue against his, and he moans quietly in your mouth, pulling away.

“Sorry, sorry…” He groans softly in your ear. He doesn’t seem sorry to you. In fact, he’s so obviously enjoying this you almost want to laugh.

You hop off your barstool and grab his sleeve, tugging him over to an empty booth. You swing him around and push him down onto the cushions, and his shocked face is almost funny, but more cute. You squeeze through the table and climb on top of him, grinning as you look down at him. This is kinda fun, huh?

His hands reach up to you, one on your neck, one on your hip, and he pushes you down, pulling you in for another kiss. You finally get to admire how soft his lips are, and he parts his mouth open, letting you slip your tongue inside again. He tastes sweet, exactly like your drink. Shock overrides every emotion, just for a moment, once you notice how hard he is, and that both of you are still in the bar, but you forget about it as he pulls away, panting. He looks fucking messed up.

“Isn’t it so cold outside? We shouldn’t leave yet...” He whines, bucking his hips against yours, trying his best not to moan. “Stay with me a little longer. You don’t need anyone else, okay?” Right now, you don’t. You try to stifle a moan as you grind against him, debating whether or not his belt should come off right now. “You really like me, don’t you?”

… Like him? Holy shit, what’re you doing? It’s only a sexual attraction.

Right?

“It’s okay.” You run your fingers down his chest with one hand, and you feel his frantic breathing as his chest goes up and down. You can almost feel his heartbeat. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll get to stay with me forever anyway, yeah? You and me?” There's a strange look in his eyes, almost staring deep inside your whole being, but you disregard it in the heat of the moment and start to take your jacket off, throwing it aside on the table. There’s a small clink of something rolling on the ground, but you don’t care enough to see what it is. “Oh god, I want you so bad, it’s crazy. You drive me fucking crazy.” He whispers in your ear, and your mind registers an almost psychopathic grin on his face, but it must be your mind playing tricks on you. “Just you and me. No one else, ever. I won't, ah, I won’t let it happen. Ah…”

God, you don’t know how much longer this can go on before you do something you might regret. The keyword being “might”.

Oh well. Let's see how long it’ll last, huh?

Awkward. So awkward.

The car ride home is pretty silent. Every now and then, both of you will try to spark up a conversation, but it doesn’t go anywhere. You’re too shy afterward to say anything else.

Ah, maybe awkward isn’t the right word. It’s more... Flustered. Bashful? Not embarrassment. You aren’t embarrassed about what happened in the slightest. You’re only regret is that you didn’t get to have sex, but you wouldn’t go that far in that bar anyway.

You both finally walk up to your door, and he furrows his brows as he looks at you. A small tug on your jacket sleeve makes you take a glance at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night at my place? It’s comfortable, I promise.” Thats… Very tempting. You aren’t even sure if he has an extra bed to sleep on. You shake your head, but thank him for his kindness, deciding that you’ll just spend the night at your best friend's apartment. At the mention of your friend, you see the corners of his mouth twitch, but those corners are suddenly pulled into a smile. “Ah, alright. Do you want me to at least drop you off at his apartment?” Hmm. It would be nice to introduce the two, but maybe later. It’s pretty late after all, so you shake your head. He fidgets with the keys in his hand and laughs a little. “Oh, ah, I’ll see you on Saturday, yeah?” You nod and wave him goodbye as he turns around, waving back to you with his key ring around a finger, and his keys jingle and echo in the hallway.

“Oh, and uh.” You look back up. “Let's continue what we had going another time, okay? It felt… Good. Really good.” His voice gets quiet, but theres a clear smile on his face. He likes it too, huh?

Of course he did.

Your face gets hot, but you nod in agreement and he takes his leave. As soon as he enters his apartment, you whip out your phone, and even though you told him you’re going to spend the night with your friend, you still aren’t a hundred percent sure.

It takes a few minutes of staring at your friend's number, and you finally decide to call, but a bang and a groan at the beginning of the hallway make you turn your head.

“Oh shit, I’m in the wrong apartment building…” Drunken rambling and groans leave the man at the…

Oh! It’s that man from the bar!

Wait, what the hell? Did he follow you here? Are you fucking kidding me?

Yuck.

He looks up and sees the recognition in your face, but it takes him a few seconds and a squint to realize who you are. “Oh... Ohhhh! It’s that person from the bar!” He drunkenly laughs, but then stops and gets a good look at your situation. “What’s wrong? Can’t get into your apartment?”

You nod slowly and raise a brow as he starts to stagger his way over. As he gets closer, you can smell the strong mix of cologne and liquor all over him, and you tense up subconsciously. He towers over you, but slouches himself over to talk to you better. His light brown hair is all messy, and there's a small, dark stain on his shirt, from what you assume to be a small spill of liquor. It looks like his hair is a bit longer in the back, too, giving it a sort of wild look. His eyes are mismatched, one with a beautiful, light shade of hazel, and the other a darker shade of the same color, so much so it’s almost pitch black. “Left your keys inside, huh?” His voice is a bit raspy, and you can definitely smell the alcohol on his breath. You didn’t even notice it at first, but he’s holding the silver flask in his right hand. “What happened to your little boy toy at the bar? Can’t stay with him?” A hiccup suddenly leaves him, and he clears his throat. “Sorry.”

You can’t help but keep your guard up around him, and take a step back.

He raises a brow. “What’s wrong, sugar? Oh, I see.” His shoulders shake as he laughs. “You think I’m a pervert, huh?” He leans against the wall and pops open his flask, taking a small swig from whatever's inside. “Didn’t follow you here if that’s what you��re thinkin’. Honest.” Just because he says that, doesn’t mean you can’t have your own suspicions. “Want me to leave? Or do you need some help with that door right there?” He beckons his flask over to your door knob. You cross your arms defensively and feel a frown form on your face. What the hell does he want?

… Wait, help? He can help?

“Yeah. Want me to open that for you?” His words slur together, yet he still seems pretty comprehensive for the most part. You don’t say anything, and just tilt your head a bit at him. “What, you gonna call a locksmith or something?” He scoffs and kneels down at the door lock, taking a good look at it. “They’re gonna charge you double since it’s so late at night. Good luck trying to find one that's not asleep.” He peers back up at you and beckons to the lock. “Want me to take a crack at it, sugar?”

You’d rather not let an alleged creep break into your house for you, but damn, you’re so tired, you don’t want to bother your (probably) already sleeping best friend, and you miss your bed… Plus, if he was going to do anything, he’s already had ample time to do just that.

You nod eagerly, and he gives you a toothy grin. You take quick notice of his gold fang. “Yeah? Gimme a sec.” He pulls out a small pick and tension wrench from his pocket, slipping the flask back inside. He starts to hum an old tune you don’t recognize, and you raise your brow as he starts to work on your lock. Why the hell does he just have those in his pocket?

“Oh, me?” It looks like he can multitask pretty well, with working on your lock and talking to you. “Oh, well… Promise you won’t tell the police?”

What the fuck? You scowl, getting ready to rip his arm off your doorknob, but then he suddenly laughs at your sign of aggression.

“Kidding, kidding. I used to break into my old high school’s cafeteria for snacks with my friends. And the janitor's closet.” This guy looks way past high school age, so how the hell does he still know this skill? “I liked breaking into the teacher's desk too. I used to cheat by stealing test answers, you know?” Is it muscle memory? “And now I like to break into women's apartments too… Take their shit or whatever, like a weirdo.” He huffs, and looks up at you for a moment, but you don’t react this time. His jokes are a bit odd. He smiles up at you and wiggles the lock a bit, a small click signifying that his work here is done. He stands up and steps aside, eagerly waiting for you to open your door. You twist the knob and it opens with ease. Despite him being an alleged creep, this man knows his stuff, apparently. Awe plasters your face as you look up at him, an uncontrollable smile breaking out on your face. “I get locked out of my apartment often. I always forget my key at home, or I just lose the shit entirely, and I got tired of calling management, or having to stay at a friend’s house for the night. So I had to whip out the ol’ highschool lockpicking again.” He yawns and scratches at his stubble. “I just saved you probably a solid hundred bucks. You’re welcome.” He waves the pick and wrench around in his hand, and then slips both back in his pocket.

…He doesn’t really seem like a creep, and it didn’t take you too long to feel at least sort of comfortable with him. Maybe Marcus was wrong? As he turns around, on an impulsive whim, you dig into your pocket for your wallet and dig out a solid fifty, running up and tapping him on his shoulder.

“Hmm?” His whole body flinches as you smack the fifty in his hands. He frowns. “The whole point of me picking at your door was so you don’t have to lose any money.” The fifties suddenly back in yours. “I don’t want your cash, honey.” You wave the fifty in his face, giggling to yourself at his grumpy expression. He groans and takes the fifty, folding it in half. “Fine. If it’ll make you stop wagging that shit in my face.” He stuffs the fifty in his pocket, the same one with his tools inside and he brings his flask back out, taking a fat swig from it. What’s inside it anyway?

“Vodka.” He shakes the flask around, as the vodka inside sloshes and echoes around the bottle. He brings it up towards your face, and you wince at the strong smell. “Usually I mix it with strawberry lemonade, but I was extra exhausted today from work.” He rolls his eyes at the thought of his employment, and stuffs the flask into an empty pocket. “Just ended up asking for pure vodka to get me drunker.” Both of you are quiet as you get a good look at each other for a few seconds, since neither of you are sure what to say. Unexpectedly, he chuckles, followed by a small hiccup. “Thanks for the fifty. Probably gonna spend it on alcohol and cigarettes, though.” You giggle and shake your head, not sure whether or not to approve his future purchases with the fifty. Eh, he can spend it on whatever he wants. It’s his money now, I guess. “Have a good night, sugar. If you need me,” He starts to walk away, but then hiccups and clears his throat. “Pretty sure I’m two apartment buildings that way. Room 304.” He points to the right.

He’s “pretty sure”? You find yourself chuckling quietly at the absurdity of the situation, as you step into your apartment. You still need to ask management for a spare, if it’s not anywhere around your house. Luckily, your best friend has a spare, so you can just take that for the time being when you see him. Unless he lost it again, ugh. He’s on his, like, third spare by now.

… Wait. What the hell is his name? The locksmith wonder. All of a sudden, you have so many questions for him, and you turn back to the hallway to ask, but by the time you do so, he’s already gone.

For some odd reason, you hope you get to see him again. But for now, wow, you need to sleep. Bad.

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕦𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍!

I throw my keys onto my sofa, snatching my bookbag off the cushions and ripping open the zipper. It doesn’t take long to find the key I hid deep down in it, and I stare the ridges of it in admiration. I don’t need to lockpick their door anymore, thank lord. It was becoming a hassle trying to avoid people seeing me. Luckily, there’s only a camera at the entrance of the hall too, so it’s not like security is gonna come banging on my door.

I get down on my knees and lay my head down on the sofa, trying to hold my excitement in. No fucking way that all just happened. I got to touch them, touch them everywhere. And to kiss them, their lips, oh…

My breathings become frantic, but no one else is here. It’s just me. I bite my cheek to try to distract myself from the blood rushing to my cock. It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok, keep it together.

Why do I care so much? They’re not here to see me right now, it’s just me. Yeah, me.

My heart beats pounding in my ears. My head. It’s kind of sickening, but I can’t stop. The way their body felt in my hands, oh my god. I was trying my best to keep it together. Did they see through me? No way.

I wish I got to have them over. Would we have had sex if so? I wish.

I’m still dreaming about that, but just for right now, this is enough.

i hope u enjoyed this one :)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #male yandere #x gn reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #male oc x reader #male oc #jealous yandere

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a-french-coconut · 4 months ago

Text

Travis x Will

As Head Counsellor and main healer, Will has more shifts than his siblings in the infirmary.

As the oldest, he also gets the worst ones.

First shift, always pointless because Will is sure he is the only one awake from four to seven in the morning. That's when he does his "Rapunzel routine".

He sweeps the floor, makes sure no sheet is stained with blood, fills the medical cabinets, rolls meticulously every bandage, sterilises his surgical instruments, reads the campers' files until he knows them by heart. It's mechanical by now, almost as boring as he did nothing and stayed in his bed.

Next one is lunch shift, from 11 am to 2 pm. The most arduous one as his fellow demigods are more careless with the prospect of a delicious meal at noon and more slow during the digestion. The lunch hour is a brief moment of peace, one Will uses to eat his sandwiches.

His final shift is the last one before night shift begins. Going from 7 pm to 10 pm, it makes him miss dinner and he can savours once again his sandwiches.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

That's Will's routine at Camp Half-Blood, has been for over a year and will be until he either dies or leave Camp.

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

His alarm rings.

He moves his arm until he finds it and slams it into silence.

His second alarm rings, this one too far on his nightstand to shut it down.

Groaning, eyes still puffy from sleep, Will sits on his bed and silence the noise before it wakes his other siblings.

He groggily makes his way to the bathroom, almost tripping on Kayla's bow laying discarded on the floor and stubbing his toe against Austin's saxophone.

After one year of waking up at 4 am, his body should really understand that he won't go back to a blissful sleep until 10 am.

Those times are gone, washed away with Micheal's body in the river, and therefore, so is his sleep schedule.

He robotically washes his teeth, makes no effort to tame his curls and takes a cold shower to shock his brain into action.

He slips on a pair of cargo shorts, a CHB tee-shirt and bright yellow flip flops and quietly leaves the Apollo Cabin.

As always, all he hears are the harpies patrolling over his head, watching him with their beady eyes.

Dimly, he notices a shadow in the Big House, making a lot of gestures and playing with something.

As long as he doesn't injure himself, it's not Will's problem to know who he is and what he is doing.

No, Will is just going to make his way to the infirmary and deny seeing anyone if something blows up.

When he passes in front of the window, the person hastily shuts off the lights and disappear from Will's vision.

He struggles to insert the key into the lock in the dark and he is forced to glow a little to see the hole. The reception's desk is empty and he passes it to enter the main room, the one with all the beds. He goes at the end of the room and lights on the coffee machine, the loud buzzing echoing in the silence.

"It's way too early to drink coffee." A voice chirps from behind him.

Will violently jumps and in panic, he throws his steamy, hot, cup of coffee at the unknown person.

"Ouch ! Dear Hermes, it burns !" The person gesticulates, hoping on one feet to another as if it would lesser the burn.

Will takes a bottle of water nearby the machine, opens it, and empties its content on-

"Travis ?" He whispers, bewildered, at his friend standing in front of him, now soaking wet.

"Hey Willy !" Travis cheerfully replies, "you have a nice way to greet your visitors."

"You have a nice way to announce yourself !" Will argues, "you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Eh," he shrugs, "nothing like a good jump scare to start the day !"

Travis opens a closet and takes a towel, processing to dry his hair.

"Why are you up ?" Will ask him, checking his watch, "it's 4:30 am."

"No reason," Travis smiles, his eyes glinting, "just thought I would keep you company."

"Riiiight," Will drawls, pouring himself another cup of coffee, "no prank ?"

"No prank."

He huffs, still not fully convinced of his friend's innocence.

It wouldn't be the first time Travis, or Connor, woke up at night to ruin a poor soul's day.

Travis plops down on a bed, rumpling the sheets, and he beckons Will to sit next to him.

"So, what do you usually do ?"

"Clean stuff." Will shrugs, "not much other thing to do."

"You spend three hours cleaning ?" Travis shivers, "why don't sleep instead ?"

"I can't, there's alway a chance a demigod needs urgent care and that's why I'm here."

He yawns and his stomach choses this moment to loudly rumble.

"Sorry," he feels his face go red, "I'm always hungry before breakfast."

"I figured you would need something to eat."

Travis gets up and pick up a box next to the coffee machine Will hadn't seen.

"Here," he gives it to him, "open it."

Inside the box, there's some kind of cake.

"How- how did you know I would be hungry ?"

"You never at dinner, and I know you would never steal a plate so I decided to make sure our beloved medic is well fed !" Travis grins, pulling out two plates from behind his back.

"Thanks Travis," Will eagerly, and messily, cuts the cake in half with his hands and shares it with his friend.

"It's panettone, from Italy," Travis says as they eat, "made this morning."

"You made this ? I didn't know you cooked." Will marvels, "It's very good."

"Remember Grace ? One of my older sisters ? She must be almost thirty if she isn't dead by now. She loved to cook, always sneaked in the kitchens to practice and I went with her." Travis smiles softly, "It reminds of her every time I cook."

"That's a nice memory to have of your older sister."

"Yeah," he snorts, "she used to curse so much in French, always went off when something was slightly over baked and gods forbid she burnt something !"

"I didn't know she spoke french." Will frowns.

it would have been nice to talk with her, practice his french. It always get a little rusty since he has nobody to speak with but nothing a holiday with his mother can't fix. He made a cross of Aphrodite's children when they all tried to talk about his love life.

"Her mother is French, but she didn't have accent, perks of being a daughter of Hermes."

"Nice."

Will had to practice a lot to get rid of his own accent, to smooth those "z" sounds.

"Yep, and she taught me before she left." Travis grins, finishing his slice of panettone.

"Really ?" Will perks up, "you're fluent ?"

"As a native speaker !" Travis says proudly, "Another perk of dad."

Finally, someone to talk with ! And his best friend nonetheless.

But he doesn't have to say it now, no. He can enjoy a few weeks of making Travis speak French and pretending not to understand.

His face when Will tells him will be worth the followings weeks of pranks.

"Say something to me in French." Will asks him, turning his body to be face to face with Travis, "Anything."

"Okay, lemme think."

Travis looks at him, his head tilted ever so slightly that some of his curls fall on his face.

"Tu es magnifique." Travis whispers, "absolument magnifique."

Will chokes.

"Will ?" Travis takes his face in his hands, "what's wrong ? Do I need to get you something ? Oh my gods, wait a minute, I'll get-"

"It's fine, it's fine !" Will stammers, "saliva went to the wrong tube, it's fine."

"You sure ? I can get you a glass of water if you need."

"I'm fine, thanks." Will smiles to reassure Travis.

That's when he realises his friend's face is very close to his and his hands are on his face.

You're magnificent, absolutely magnificent.

"Erm", Will flushes, "maybe you can get me a glass of water."

Travis nods and quickly goes to the coffee machine to grab one of the bottles.

Will uses those few seconds to compose himself.

Maybe Travis isn't a fluent as he thought, and he just wanted to tell Will he was good-looking.

Which is very nice thing to say one friend to another.

Will tells it to Drew all the time.

It's friendly, nothing more.

"Here you go." Travis puts the bottle in his hand before sitting next to him again.

"Thanks."

"So," Travis smirks after he drank, "did you understood what I said ?"

See, it's popular belief children of Apollo are incapable of lying.

Will doesn't know who started the rumour but it helped him a lot.

Accused of something he may or may not have done ? Smile and deny.

"Nah," he shakes his head, "not a word."

He wonders if he asks Travis to translate his words, he would truthfully.

Does he even want him to tell the truth ?

"Eh," his friend shrugs, "it was nothing important. But I'm definitely going to spurt random french sentences around you now," he cackles, "it's going to be fun to see you trying to decipher them."

"Yeah," Will grins, "really fun."

"Tu as un très beau sourire." Travis says, "Catch any words ?"

You have a beautiful smile.

"No," Will answers shakily, "not one word."

"This is too much fun !" Travis snickers, "I'm going to bug you all day long."

"You better not whisper french in my ears when I'm healing people," Will warns his friend, "It's going to distract me."

"Nonsense, you're not going to understand it anyway."

Travis picks up their two plates and throw the plastic bottle in a trash nearby.

"Gotta wake up my siblings, but I'll see you at your lunch shift !" Travis cheerfully bids him goodbye.

Will checks his watch and it indicates 6:30 am.

"Travis," Will says jokingly, "you are now going to entertain me during all my morning shifts because time never flew that fast !"

He expects Travis to roll his eyes and say "I'd rather sleep."

"I'll be here 4:30 am sharp." Travis instead says very seriously, "with breakfast lovingly made just for you." He winks at him.

"When do you sleep ?"

"It's a secret but I guess I can tell you." Travis whispers, "Arts & Crafts is the best activity to take a nap."

"You're incorrigible." Will rolls his eyes. "Now go, Connor needs you."

He makes a shoo motion and Travis leaves the infirmary chuckling.

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

True to his word, Travis does pester him during his lunch shift.

He barges in the main room at 12 am sharp, whistling a happy tune.

"Shut it off, Stoll." Sherman groans from his bed.

"Rude," Travis blows him a raspberry before turning to Will, "you like my singing right ?"

"Yeah," He mindlessly says, focused on stitching back Paolo's arm for what must be the sixth time.

Travis takes a chair and sits next to him, still whistling.

Will sings his own tune, a healing hymn meant to put back flesh together. As always, his skin begins to glow softly.

"Aucune étoile n'est plus brillante que toi, tu es plus époustouflant que n'importe quel astre." Travis casually interromps his singing, causing Will to short circuit.

Only his hard won training prevents him from staggering and messing up his hymn.

No star is brighter than you, you are more breath-taking than any of them.

Clearly, Travis is only fluent in Aphrodite french style. Or Grace thought it would be really funny to teach her little brother only romantic sentences.

Will hastily finishes his hymn, apply a healing paste to prevent any infection, and he goes over his next patient.

He hears scrapping on the floor and there's Travis, still seated, right next to him.

As he apply a soothing paste on Nyssa's right arm, red with a second degree burn, he briefly glances at Travis.

He meets his friend's blue eyes right with his own, startling him with the intensity in his look.

He quickly adverts his eyes, feeling his cheeks reddens.

"Tu as des yeux sublimes, ce sont tels des saphirs." Travis sighs, "Si tu savais à quel point tu es splendide Will."

Will grips Nyssa's arm tightly, causing her to hiss in pain.

"Sorry," he winces.

"It's all right," she grunts, "what is the idiot saying about you ?"

"I don't know," Will says, ignoring Travis's huff, "I don't know French."

"But he mentioned your name didn't he ? I think I heard him saying Will."

"Good ears Nyssa," Travis claps, "I said he should try singing Rapunzel's song, to see if it works."

"Idiot." Nyssa rolls her eyes.

Will stays silent, translating the words in his head.

You have sublime eyes, they are like sapphires. If you only knew how beautiful you are, Will.

"Don't you have anything to do right now ?" Will asks Travis, his throat dry. "Siblings to take care of ?"

"Connor's got it all covered. You are stuck here with me."

"Good luck." Nyssa mumbles before he leaves her to treat someone else.

And Travis follows.

For every patient, the son of Hermes compliments him.

"Tu es merveilleux."

You're wonderful.

"J'adore la façon dont tu brilles au soleil."

I love the way you shine in the sun.

"Tu es surement l'une des meilleures rencontres que j'ai faite dans ma vie."

You’re probably one of the best encounters I’ve ever had in my life.

All with a soft tone, looking at him with a fond look in his blue eyes.

Will can barely concentrate on his patient with Travis whispering such things right next to him.

He almost gives Miranda the wrong medication.

He sets Sherman's leg the wrong way and has to do it all over again.

After botching stitches on Billie Ng's arm, he deems it necessary to take a break.

"Travis, please go tell Kayla to let Chiron teach archery and to begin her shift early. Tell her I'll owe her, it should convince her." Will sighs as he strips of his white coat and gloves, throwing the latter in the trash.

"Right away !"

He enjoys that moment of rest to plop down on a chair and expires loudly.

What mess has he gotten himself into ?

He can't reveal to Travis he's been understanding everything since the beginning but he can't endure much more of whatever is going on with the son of Hermes.

They've been friends since they met, literally.

Travis saw Will enter the Hermes Cabin, alone and wide-eyed, and decided on the spot to stick with him.

And yes, Travis has always been at ease with physical contact.

Yes, he always made those hugs a little longer than the usual, not that Will minded.

Yes, he always seeks Will's company, always smile, always laugh, always make sure he's alright...

Will likes that about Travis, honestly.

It's nice to have someone care so deeply about you.

He always greeted him with a hug, always jumped on his back by surprise, sending tumbling on the ground.

But he did it with everybody ! It's just how he shows affection.

Will can name a lot of friends who got the same treatment from Travis.

Like Connor ! But he's his brother so he doesn't count.

Then Katie and Drew !

Wait no, Travis is still sour about the whole spy thing and Drew is more Connor's friend.

He's sure they are others campers with who Travis is as friendly than he is with Will.

Annabeth would be a sure choice but she hasn't been around lately, busy in New Rome.

Percy is kind of guy everybody gets along with, he isn't a good example.

Clarisse, Travis told me and made him swore into secrecy, is only tolerated because Chris. The Stoll are still bitter about how she tried to plunge their heads into the toilets when they first arrived.

Then...

Surely there is at least someone else...

But as he racks his brain, he can't think about one person that Travis pesters like he does to him.

There's nobody else, except Connor he supposes, that would make him wake up at gods know when in the morning to bake a pastry because he cares about him enough to know he doesn't eat enough at dinner.

There's nobody else that Travis would follow all morning long and tell him nice things in another language.

In french, nonetheless.

The language of love.

There's only Will for who Travis does all those things.

But maybe he's reading too much into it ?

Maybe Travis is just flirtatious because he feels comfortable with him ? It's not like Will is supposed to understand the things Travis says to him. Maybe he's just having a laugh.

He needs to ask Drew about this.

"Nyssa," he calls her as he leaves the infirmary, "tell Travis to stay with Kayla until the end of her shift, she'll need help."

And he needs time to process without having Travis swooning over him and making his heart go crazy.

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

Will doesn't think he has ever seen Drew looking so disappointed in him.

"Solace," she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "please tell me one more time what isn't clear to you."

"Travis is flirting with me but I'm not supposed to know that he is." Will stresses his word, "so does it mean that he actually likes me or is he just entertaining himself ?"

"Will, how many other friends do you have that go around calling you handsome, breathtakingly beautiful, light of their life-"

"He didn't say the last part."

"Just give him time and he will." Drew snickers.

"So, you think he likes me."

"Oh honey, I think he is head over heels with you." Drew grins, "the question is, are you ?" She lifts one eyebrow.

"I, ah, think so ?" Will shakes his head, "this is very confusing, I have known him for years and of course I like him ! He's my best friend."

"Have you ever wanted to kiss him ?" Drew asks abruptly.

"Hum-"

"Have you ever felt bitter when the whole camp thought he was dating Katie Gardner ?" She presses on.

"Maybe a little but-"

"Do you like the special care he gives you, and only you ?"

"Yes."

That one Will can answer without problem.

He finds very endearing the way Travis went out of his way to bake him, by himself, a breakfast.

And how time with Travis flies, not one moment boring.

And he likes very much how Travis speaks with awe of him in french.

"Oh my gods, I like him."

"Good-"

"This is a disaster !" Will groans.

"What ?"

"The only way I tell him that I know is by confessing I speak french. But, that would imply that I would have known he's been flirting since 4am in the morning and that I haven't said anything back !"

"Just tell him you were figuring it out, he'll understand."

"You sure ?" He asks feebly.

"Yes, now go tell him." Drew shoos him out, "It's time at least one Stoll gets into a relationship and Connor won't ask Malcolm out before the next century begins."

Once he's on the porch, she slams the door at his face, leaving him there, alone.

He's halfway to the infirmary when he meets Travis wandering on camp grounds.

"Travis ?" Will asks, surprised, "what are you doing here ?"

"Kayla kicked me out." Travis replies, "she said I was too disturbing."

"Oh, I suppose not everybody appreciate you as I do." He grins, nudging Travis.

He is rewarded by a choking sound that makes him smile even wider.

"Right," Travis croaks, "clearly she lacks good taste."

"Obviously," Will rolls his eyes, "you're free right now ?"

Travis, as he knows well, is very much not free right now.

He's supposed to be taking his nap at Arts & Crafts but surely Malcolm won't miss him.

"Depends on where we are going." Travis shrugs.

"Strawberry fields, I need a break from the infirmary and some sun would be really nice."

"Let's go then !" Travis replies cheerfully, launching his arm on Will's shoulders.

He could say it right now and then. Hey Travis, guess what ? I know French too and I know you like me. And I like you too ! Hum, let's be boyfriends ?

"What are you thinking about ?" Travis asks him and without an ounce of control, Will blurbs out "You." before furiously backtracking. "About how I don't think you're actually free, I even know you aren't, and you should be sleeping because I'll have you know it's not healthy at all-"

"I'll skip climbing and sleep then, don't feel like getting burn today." Travis stops him, his voice higher than usual and his hand on Will's shoulder is warm.

Will is not going to be the only one being a mess in this.

Without thinking too much, he is well past that, he slides his arm behind Travis' back and rest his hand on his waist.

There, now he just needs to act as if his heart wasn't soundly loudly enough for all Camp to hear.

"Come on, I'll need to go back to the infirmary soon." He urges Travis to walk faster, rather pleased that, for once, he is the one leaving the other speechless.

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

Will doesn't manage to tell the truth to Travis during their little escaped in the strawberry fields.

Can't even bring the subject during the whole afternoon because Kayla drags him in the infirmary and Travis can no longer escape his counsellor's duties.

He is left to follow his siblings at archery, missing miserably every target, then getting his ass kicked by Ellis during sword fighting and creating a literal monster of clay for Arts & Crafts's project of the day.

Overall, not a good afternoon because the longer he takes to tell Travis, the more hurt the son of Hermes will be when he knows.

He can't believe he is taking advantage of him like that. He's a horrible person, a terrible friend and what a catastrophic boyfriend he will be- he's not even going to be a boyfriend since Travis will probably reject him when he learns everything.

He dejectedly slams his face on his office in the infirmary, slumped in his chair and determined to swallow in self-pity during his whole night shift.

"Shut up." He groans to his stomach when it rumbles. "I don't wanna move to feed you so just keep it quiet."

Expectedly, his stomach only protest louder at the perspective of no food. He forces himself to get up and grab some sandwiches by the coffee machine at the back of the room.

When he goes back to his desk, his chair isn't empty.

"It's nine pm, you're missing the bonfire." He tells Travis who's happily twirling in his chair. He settles for a nearby stool, nibbling on his cold chicken and mayo sandwich.

"They'll manage without me." Travis grins, sprawled on his chair like it's his. "And I come with a gift."

With flourishing gestures, Travis kneels in front of Will and presents him a white carton box, of which came out a delicious smell.

"From tonight's barbecue, I figured you'll like hot, tasty, meat more than that cold chicken you eat every night."

"Sometimes it's a vegetarian one." Will replies as he digs into his new dinner, only pausing to notice Travis sneakily stealing his previous one.

"Late snack." The son of Hermes shrugs before taking a big bite from his sandwich.

They eat comfortably in silence until Travis breaks it, in none other than French.

"Ça doit être fatiguant d'être seul toutes les nuits."

Maybe it's because Will is tired. Or perhaps it is the sentence's normalcy. It must be tiring to be alone every night. In any case, Will answers automatically. "Ça va, j'y suis habitué."

It's when the last word rolls out of his tongue, when It's okay, I'm used to it doesn't sound quite right in his head that he notices his mistake.

"You- you speak French ?" Travis's voice is high-pitched, his blue eyes looking at Will with blown wide irises, mouth slightly open.

"And, hum, you understand it ?" He asks after Will nods at the first question, only to do the same for the second one.

It's a switch being turned on.

Travis goes from his usual relax self to a frozen state, mouth wide open and agape. "You, you- hahaha, you mean- from this morning, you, everything ?" Travis asks bewildered.

"Hum, yeah." Will says but before he can add "it's okay, I really like you too.", Travis lets out a high shrilled laugh.

"Woah," He coughs, running his hand through his hair and looking everywhere but Will. "Cat's out of the bag then ! The skeleton is out of the closet ! Get it ? Out of the closet."

"Very funny, I-"

"Well then." Travis claps loudly his hands, jumping out of the chair towards the exit. "I'll leave you to it, you probably don't feel that way because why would you, I'm just me and you're Will Solace, best medic and human person ever."

"What ? No, I do-"

"Anyways, gotta go, sweet dreams and everything, I'll go cry to Connor and swallow a whole pint of smuggled ice cream, please don't tell Chiron about it, I'm going to need it." Travis rants as he backs up towards the door. "If you don't see me during the following week, don't panic, I'm just bawling my eyes out because I- what are you doing ?" Travis stops dead since he is blocking the path. "I, hum, need to go through that door Will. I mean, I could use a window but-"

"Neither of them, you are staying here until-"

"Oh ! You want to discuss our friendship, yeah fair enough." Travis smiles but it's a dim thing, strained and sad. "I'll leave you alone for a while, to let you compute."

"Travis, you are not leaving me alone." Will says. "I like you too."

"You- you like me back ?" Travis stutters.

"Wanna hear it in french ?" Will laughs softly even thought his heart is pounding wildly. Unlike english, french do not do the difference between "I like you." and "I love you.". It all comes in one small sentence, three words. "Je t'aime."

Travis stays silent for about three seconds before giving him a beaming smile, one Will is way more used to see on his features. "Je t'aime aussi."

I like you too.

Fireworks, butterflies, holy choirs, whatever things are supposed to represent love, Will feels it all.

"I would elaborate but I think you heard me enough today." Travis grins, all shyness gone and confidence returned, and leans towards Will. "What about you ?" He unabashedly looks at him, eyes flittering to his lips before meeting his.

Will flushes but leans forward too, kissing Travis. It's nothing much, gone before he can really register it but it brings a stupidly big smile on his face and Travis glows in a way it makes his freckles pop, his eyes shine.

"You're really beautiful too." Will whispers, tracing softly Travis' freckles on his nose leaning once again close to the other boy. "And you really need to sleep."

"What ?" Travis says, taken aback when Will drags him out of the infirmary, all the way to Cabin 11. It's empty, his siblings still at the bonfire but none of them were up at four am like their brother.

"You need to sleep, I need to sleep." He says as he manhandles Travis into his bed, his boyfriend letting him do so.

"Don't I get a kiss for good night ?" Travis grins, looking at him expectantly and Will obliges, giving him a light kiss before wishing him good night.

"Will you be there tomorrow morning ?" Will asks him as he leaves the cabin.

"Of course !" Travis yells from his bed. "Anything for my boyfriend !"

It's a mystery for Kayla and Austin to see Will asleep in his bed, a soft smile on his face, at a reasonable hour of the night and clothes already put aside for the next morning.

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

His morning shifts are now something he wakes up excited for, curious to know what breakfast Travis baked for him today. Sometimes, Travis talks with him during his shift or sleeps in an infirmary bed, his simple act of presence enough for Will to start the day with a smile.

He doesn't see him much during the day, except when Hermes and Apollo Cabins are mysteriously paired for the whole day, a curtesy of Connor Travis said.

Over are the days where all he ate at dinner were his sandwiches because now, Travis brings him a box of whatever they ate that night, and sometimes he even managed to convince to leave the infirmary to join him at the bonfire.

Will is pretty happy with this routine, Drew occasionally popping up in the picture to look at the two of them appreciatively before leaving to pester Connor about Malcolm. Hopefully, he has it until the day he leaves Camp, and doesn't lose it because of some monsters trying to make him his lunch.

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #will solace #connor stoll #travis stoll #drew tanaka #camp half blood #will solace x travis stoll #willvis

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haolovre · 7 months ago

Text

Secrets hidden in you

“they all say that park seonghwa, the most popular and dangerous person in the school doesnt have a heart, does he?”

student!ateez

this is fiction so no one actually is that mean to each other

this series can contain:bullying, beating up, blood, fluff, drugs, smoking, swearing

1k+ i think idk cant do math

masterlist

first day

well new experience for everyone, ur new highschool. u were nervous but have u every been this nervous in ur life. no, never in ur whole life

life.well the day has finally come. ur standing infront of ur school, with ur uniform on. u walk up the stairs to enter the school. ur trying to find ur first class.

monday

| class one 9:00 - 10:00 am | subject: math | class 0-7

| class two 10:00 - 11:00 am | subject: chemistry | class 2-4

~break 11:00 - 11:30 ~

| class three 11:30 am - 12:30 pm | subject: history | class 1-5

| class four 12:30 - 1:30 pm | subject: biology | class lab/0-10

~break 1:30 - 2:00 pm lunch!

| class five 2:00- 3:00 pm | subject: arts | class 2-2

~ study session until 6pm

large list huh. well u better get going yn ur going to be late to ur first class.

ur finding class 0-7 pretty easy. ur already on the correct floor now just the class. 0-3,0-4,0-5,0-6,0-7

got it! u open the door. u might had just turned deaf. there was so much noise u cant hear anything. then

“stundents get in ur seat class about to begin.” everyone going to their seat. ur just frozen in place. “oh we have a new student here well then please introduce urself” as u look into the classroom with a bunch of eyes looking at u “uh well hi, im yn” not so bad huh” oke yn u can sit over there were haeyoung is sitting. heayoung please raise ur hand” oh their its pretty far back next to the window, pretty good spot huh. u walk over there. but then u felt a leg next to urs, as the person wanted u to trip. u walked over the leg and went to ur seat.

“heyy, im haeyoung, well the teacher said that already wanna be friends, u can join my friend group, dont worry we love new people!” “mhm sure i love too!” well there is ur first friend. “Heyhey yn right im sooha, also one of haeyoungs friends, nice to meet u girly” “heyyy” well there is the second friend. but u felt u were watched. u noticed someone staring at u.

“girly u need to know some basic shit in this school, oke first DONT go to the friend group there” haeyoung pointed at a group over there with 8 boys and 5 girls” the boys called them self ateez dont try to mess with them, most popular and dangerous boys in the group. and then we have the pick me’s- oh i mean newjeans, the girls only want the boys of ateez. literally pick me’s and if you get close with one of the boys that they like well u have some new enemies.” mhmm new info

” oke so in ateez we have: kim hongjoong, the leader. he’s pretty smart but not the smartest. he bets with the boys on which gets that girl first, so if ur ever the target just reject them:), oke next

park seonghwa: the prettiest, most popular because of his looks but still watch out he is quite strong.

next jeon yunho: smartest well one of them, this guy is one of the more friendlier guys in the group.

next kang yeosang: dont mistake him with his face. one and two and ur on the floor.

next choi san: chestnut, well he looks like one, he looks scary but he’s really not if you get to know him better he’ll be a cutiepie, i don’t actually know but people say that.

next in line song mingi: also one of the handsome guys, dont get me wrong butbthe do look good. he’s really of a scardycat but still he’s tough.

up next jung wooyoung: looks like a cutie, he isnt be afraid, well funfact i dated him, pretty long 2 years and we ended with good terms i do have have someone. up me tail. haerin but i get to that later.

last one choi jongho:strongest, this man can break a apple either his hands so dont become that apple. he’s also the youngest of three group.

now pi- newjeans” haeyoung signs for abit after giving u alot of info

”minji, the oldest one she’s pretty obsessed with seonghwa so watch out.

hanni: leader,maybe one of the nicer onces but she does have an obsession with hongjoong.

danielle: most obsessed with mingi. also most delusional.

Haerin: pretty shy but like wonyoung , there isnt alot of info about her, but she is the nicest i heard.

hyein youngest and is obsessed with the youngest/ jungho.”

“thats pretty much it what u need to know”

“mhm okee” you might have a headache after all of that but its oke because now u know what to expect

*thring*

thats the bell “oke students we didnt did anything today as we got a new student so no homework”

u get up from ur seat only to sit right back down again. theres something hanging from his collor

choi… san

“can i help u?” abit of a silent then he left weird….

“Uhm what the fuck happend” you heard sooha say “i dont know but lets gaur”

well u tried but the u got stopped by ateez and newjeans “a new student huh” “dont worry just dont mess with us and u wont hear from us ,got it?” “mhm” u tried to leave but u get stopped by a mascular arm. “stop right there” u get shocked how close this guy is to ur face, his perfume smells like lavender” ur the girl i tried to trip smart one huh” u saw his id

park. seonghwa

“well ig u can go now new student, see u around” he said

u walked out of the classroom to see haeyoung and sooha looking at u if u have any bruises “im fine im fine!” haeyoung and sooha looked at each other confused “they didnt hit u or anything” “they do that to all the new kids here” oh. well ig ur lucky.”oke then let’s gaurr” u three go to ur new class. and that was chemistry. chemistry was just boring and writing notes. now it was break!

u went to the canteen to meet all sooha’s and haeyoung friends. to ur surprise their werent alot. u thought bc their both pretty talkative they have more friends then this

“ohh was this the new girl u were talking about sooha, she pretty. oh how terrible of myself , i forgot to introduce hey im jang wonyoung and im in class 8-3”

“i agree with u woo she’s pretty, well hi im yeonjun class 8-2” “oh my yes she is, heyy im rei class 8-3!” they explain their friend group whats called txt and the girl group ive. and together there txi (tomorrow by ive) u guys talk the whole lunch to get to know each other.

well u know that txt is in basketball team. and ive in the cheer club “ well the cheer club do need new people” jiwon said. “maybe yn can join, she has the looks and she looks sporty.”

“oh hehe~ thank u i do figure skate so maybe why not try cheer?” “yesss! i have the form here just write everything down and i think u’ll join! ill make sure of it hehe” well day one and u already joined a club! “do watch out for the pick- no newjeans their also in the cheer club. they wanted to go in bc ateez does basketball to” sooha said. well then hope that goes well “i’ll give the paper to my coach and i’ll have an answer tomorrow!” “okeyy”

“Thringgg*

next class is history, u walk with with sooha and haeyoung to ur class, but when u guys stepped foot out of the canteen .

a fight. u see mingi smoking a cigarette thats almost all used up. danielle is fighting some girl from another class. “i think she forgot that she cant have mingi” haeyoung said. u see mingi to that girl on the ground and put the cigarette butt on her skin. u heard her scream in pain “that what u get to try and ask mingi out” danielle shouted. the rest of ateez laughed. u three go around the group and to ur class. u get puched to a locker “well, well new one tch ur not going to tell a teacher right.” u see his id

yunho.

u stand up again now facing the tall figure. “couldnt u just asked and not throw me to some random locker.” “really have some temper to say that huh” “didnt u heard about us yet, you might joined mid in first term but u dont have anything special” he comes down to go to wisper something in ur ear. “dont worry ill love to see u cheer for me” u push him aside so u can go to ur class, haeyoung and sooha were watching from the hallway next . “There pain in the ass” u said “we can hear u sweatie!” hyein shouted. u turned around and did a *oke* with ur hand. u smirked seeing there faces,and whent up the staircase. u arrived on time in class, well now on the ground, ateez tried to get on time and poor u get squished by hongjoong

you hissed as the sudden heavy weight on ur back and the touch of the cold floor

“u really had to do that” u said while facing hongjoong “well i didnt want to be late so yeah. u signed and went to sit next too sooha.

history was about the revolutions. also a test next week… “students second semester is coming up so do be prepared for the test week!” and like that class ended.

You and sooha went to the next class ass haeyoung had a other class, biology ur favorite subject and ur best subject.

“oke everyone! u guys get partnered into groups of three, i already made the group and ill show u all on screen.” he shows a list of names. u searched for urs well well i guess bad luck ur group is seonghwa and beomgyu, well i guess good luck too, ur with a friend. “oke everyone sit with ur group at a table.” u and beomgyu sit together and seonghwa sit at the other side. Minji is complaining that she wants to go with seonghwa , but the teacher doesnt alows it.

“u all will make a poster about sea creatures, that why i named the group with the sea creature ur doing!” Great ur doing it about jellyfish. “Oke so me and seonghwa do have basketball practice today yn is it oke-“ “yeah sure its fine” “u didnt even let me finish” beomgyu said, “dont worry u guys go to ur training” “u can come if u want so ur not alone “ seonghwa said, u were kinda shocked that he said that” oh really dont u think i’ll be a bother..” “no dont worry just newjeans is there too, they always watch us. But u dont have to talk to them” seonghwa quickly added, seonghwa was maybe pretty decent u thought. Well biology ended, u guys had a oke start.

Now its time for lunch! sooha was asking so much, and she was kinda suprised when seonghwa asked YOU to come to the basketball practice. The girls were excited for u to go. What was weird because u thought they hated each other. u go to ur group at the canteen table. U guys talked for a bit and then boom a fight, another one

“WHY WOULD U LET HER COME TO UR BASKETBALL TRAINING,U BARELY EVEN ASK ME” minji shouted at seonghwa’s face “well we do have a project together and beomgyu is also at practice so she could watch her teammates play while she does some work.” He said to the smaller figure. “but oppa~~ im the one who’s special right” minji whines in the hope that seonghwa would not invite u anymore. “no.” he said coldly to her face, minji’s jaw hitted the floor and begged seonghwa for forgiveness for shouting at him”man got another dog ahaha” san said to wooyoung.

as the tall figure felt something in his pocket. A love note from .. minji” god dammit minji shut the fuck up with these stupid ass notes” “but oppa~-“ i have enough of u.” “Oppa please give me one more chance” “last fucking chance then, get up my nerve and ur gone” the group walks out of the canteen. “Damn someone is jealous” soobin started. “Never they actually fought also in the group” sooha said,

*thringgg

well last lesson is art so it isnt that bad. u arrived at ur class sitting with haeyoung and sooha. u guys grab some paint, brushes and a palette. U guys sit down to make ur art piece, but ofcourse it has to be u that gets paint all over urself because of wooyoung. “Oops sorry hehe~ u do look pretty with the painthehe~” now might be asking what for color it was. It was ofcourse white. U signs as u get the paint of ur face unknowingly someone had taken a pic with u and ur paint on ur face. u go wash it off want went to finish ur sketch

ur sketch:

** not made by me credits to the owner**

u were pretty happy how it turned out, it was u playing the guitar. u hand it in. “Wow yn u did a great job its very detailed im very proud!” “Thank u miss”

some came from behind and hand in their drawing

** not mine!! Credits to the owner!!**

“Wow great job seonghwa u did great, this does remind me of someone but i cant recall” “aww thank u miss i took inspiration from when i was in the library” “great job seonghwa keep it up!” U looked at the piece of paper what seonghwa gave to the teacher. U were impressed by his art skills as u thought he doesnt. A voice said something to u “uhh hey yn, ur still coming to my practice right?” Seonghwa asked u that “yeahyeah i have time! But ill still work on the biology project so dont worry we’ll have it done by tomorrow” u smiled, seonghwa looked happy as he heard that ur coming “alright! Well see u there and dont only spend time working on the poster that can happen anytime” “i will i will dont worry”

u left the classroom.. not even a few seconds and ur on the ground. “U really think seonghwa wants u because he’s inviting u to his practice hm? Well ur wrong he wants me and me only”

minji shouted at u” well bitch i dont think that, so dont worry u can keep him” but minji didnt hear u i guess. She splashed water on u and the rest of newjeans laughed. “HAAHA look at u. Look so desperate to get seonghwa” . As the girls doesnt know that seonghwa was watching in the corner. “Bitch dont get close with seonghwa, got it?” as she was waiting for a reaction,

as u wanted to punch her but dont want to get in trouble for ur first day, u left. as u heard them laughing at u.

U went to the bathroom to dry urself. U texted beomgyu when the training starts, 3:10 pm, ur about to be a little late but u grabbed ur zip up jacket and went to the practice with headphones and that piece of paper

. U saw txt on the coart. “Heyy ynn, happy that u came” yeonjun said happily “yeahh definitely now i can flex my skills” kai said “man u think ur good im better then u” taehyun said “dont mind them yn go sit on the bleachers ill meet u after the practice” beomgyu said while taehyun and kai were still pickering who’s better.

U get up and sat somewhere. U grabbed ur phone to search some info, u also saw ateez and newjeans together saying stuff to each other. “Man she actually came” jongho said “yeah never thought she actually come.” San said “ well dont focus on her, she isnt in the cheer team we are” hyein said

“ well i did heard that she got accepted for the cheer team” hongjoong said”WHAT she cant be that good” minji said “uractually kidding me that new girl got in. “ danielle said.

“EVERYONE STAND IN LINE” the coach said “ new jeans went to the other bleachers. U looked at the coart seeing yeonjun and beomgyu waving at u. U waved back.

the coach did a name check to see if everyone is here. Then they started with the warming up. U heard newjeans shouting and cheering for ateez. U were a little busy with figuring out were everything should go.

But when u got the hang of it u decided to watch the practice. U saw that the teams were uneven. The coach yelled “ if one of the girls can join this group” pointing at txt “ please come on coart” as txt were looking at u, u thought u should join them. U did had basketballed in ur life but u werent the best at it. U came down from the bleachers and came on the coart

“ ur clothes are fine, thank u for joining them” u heard booing from the bleachers, it was of course newjeans. U tied ur hair in a ponytail. “Oke yn can u go in front so if something goes wrong it isnt the end of the world” soobin exaggerates at the end, “ yeah dont worry!” U saw soobin in the center with mingi.

As the coach trew the ball to up. Mingi gave soobin less space so he couldn’t jump that high. The ball came to san. As u rushed to him u managed to get it put of his hands. Now ur tribbling to the basket, the only person that separates u with the basket.

jeon yunho. Well u tried but didn’t manage to go far as yunho is like 2 meters and ur 1.65 meters. U tried to get the ball back. But failed, newjeans laughed and called u bad. Soobin managed to get the ball and passes it to u. Now theres the same person infront but u said u could so it. U tribbeled around yunho and jumped to make a layup. And u.

Scored!! “TWO - ZERO POINTS” u saw txt shocked and happy faces. “ YEAH YNN GOOD JOB” “THATS OUR YNN” “UR GOOD” u thanked them and went back into the game

after some time it was 15-15 . A tie. U guys were all sweating, and the other team too, also in that time ive came and watched and cheered u guys on. This point is the winning point. U tried to get the ball from hongjoong but failed, u turn back to try again but failed again. The tall figure tried to shoot but u blocked it and caught it. Now u tribbling to their basket.

U saw seonghwa infornt of u but u easily past him and made a layup, it didnt went in sadly. U passed the ball to yeonjun. As he passed to soobin and he to u again. U tried again and u missed. U cussed at urself for not scoring.

“YN UR SO BAD HAHAHA” u heard from the bleachers. That gave us motivation to win this match. U got the ball from taehyun and went back to the basket to try one more time. And u scored!! *wistle* “TEAM ONE HAVE WON THE MATCH”

u and the boys cheerded as u guys won the match “YN U DID ITT” the boys were going to change. as a tall male figure came up too u. “Never thought u even could do basketball” u looked up and saw seonghwa. “Never thought u guys were so bad” seonghwa looked at you annoyed “well tomorrow lets do the poster, ive done a little bit” “hm alright then” u walked out and went home.

next day

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #school #pov #yn #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jungho

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