#THIS EXPRESSION WAS ALREADY LOVESICK AND THEN I NOTICED THE HEARTS. LOOK UPON MY FIELD OF HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATIONS AND SEE THAT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jjacob · 3 years

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all i want for christmas is you

❝ the school had started to take notice of you. lee juyeon, however, had always noticed. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee juyeon x fem!reader (ft. best friend!lee minho)

GENRES ▸ fluff, high school au, sports au, best friends to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity but !! lots of !! fluff !!

SUMMARY ▸ the bet was simple: find a date to the winter ball. the only problem was that juyeon didn’t want just any girl. he wanted you.

PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey

WORD COUNT ▸ 5055 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ merry christmas! this is a gift for addy @honeyju the biggest juyeon simp ik !! ily addy i am excited/scared/not emotionally ready to read the minho one which ! btw y’all should read here bc our stories are loosely connected! also disclaimer: i know jack shit ab football but i tried

LEE JUYEON TENDED TO REGRET HALF THE THINGS HE SAID SOMETIMES.

In eighth grade, Juyeon’s sense of humor was largely self-deprecating and consisted of saying he wanted to die at the slightest inconvenience. But, with his spectacular timing, he let the joke slip in front of a teacher once and froze up upon seeing her concerned expression. Juyeon later received a note from the counselor’s office and had to convince them that he was perfectly fine.

In tenth grade, Juyeon had grown past his phase of dark humor and moved onto high school football. He made the cut for the team the previous year, and managed to make it on the varsity team by the time he was a sophomore. In the beginning of the season, they asked who wanted to be captain the next year, and Juyeon boldly declared that he did. Thus, he was ridiculed and sentenced to pick up balls and clean up the gym after every practice from then on.

Now, as a high school junior in the varsity football team, Juyeon had screwed himself over by making a stupid bet with his best friend, Lee Minho.

Lee Minho was, in short, a conniving bastard. Juyeon never should have trusted him and gone along with his antics. The mere thought of what he had gotten himself into was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

The bet sounded simple enough: find a date to the Winter Ball.

Of course, it was easier said than done, but Juyeon was a star athlete and had girls sliding in his DMs left and right. He could easily find a date if he wanted to, and, honestly, Juyeon only needed to send a few texts and he would probably be secured for the dance. The problem was, however, that Juyeon only wanted you.

Minho was well aware of Juyeon’s pitiful, unrequited love towards you. It was probably the reason he suggested the bet; his best friend either wanted to see him miserable or see him score a chance with you. Either way, Juyeon wasn’t sure his heart was ready to shoot his shot.

Juyeon had crushed on you ever since you sat next to him in the seventh grade and let him borrow your pencil. It was such a silly start to his admiration for you, but his feelings grew stronger when the both of you actually became friends. You were so bright when you laughed, so sweet when you spoke, and so adorable when you smiled. Juyeon had never felt this way about anyone else and always got butterflies when he saw you. Juyeon was never one to chase after girls but he would find himself constantly thinking about what you were up to and having several internal dilemmas over whether he should ask you to hang out or not.

Five years later and Juyeon still harbored feelings for you. Now, they had matured into something deeper, but you still racked his brain nevertheless. It didn’t help that you had a major glow-up in high school and were probably the most beautiful person Juyeon had ever seen.

The school started to take notice of you.

Juyeon, on the other hand, had always noticed.

“Are you sure we can finish a medium before practice?” Minho asked Juyeon, setting a box of pizza on the table in front of him. “Also, I saw Y/N by the gym earlier.”

Juyeon perked up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Minho replied, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza for himself. “You know what day it is, right?”

Minho took a bite out of his pizza, observing Juyeon with a raised brow. His best friend was on the baseball team but treating themselves to pizza had become a monthly ritual. Despite being on different teams, he was closer to Minho than his football teammates.

“Thursday?”

“And that means?”

Right.

Juyeon had formulated an elaborate plan to ask you out during the football game today, but, of course, it all depended on whether their team won or not. It would have been kind of ridiculous to propose after a loss. On the bright side, he knew he could count on the fact that you’d actually be present considering you were a cheerleader.

But what if you already had a date? You surely hadn’t mentioned it to him or posted about it on social media, so he was riding on an assumption that you haven’t been asked. That was bizarre to Juyeon, though, because you were the prettiest person he had ever seen. However, it was true that you were gradually getting popular, and that made Juyeon a touch nervous.

“I ask her out tomorrow,” Juyeon breathed out. “Am I ready for this?”

Minho scoffed lightly. “Are you ever?”

Juyeon frowned at his best friend, scrunching up his nose at his distasteful comment. “What about you? Have you gotten a date?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Juyeon sighed. That was probably all he would get out of Lee Minho today. Once Minho set his mind on something, he carried it out diligently until the end. Juyeon honestly had no idea who he wanted to bring since Minho didn’t like talking about girls he was interested in, but he supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal as long as his best friend was happy.

It wasn’t like Juyeon was never going to hear about his friend’s endeavors. After all, he did pick up on Minho’s slow descent from an apathetic individual to a whipped ball of fluff. If Juyeon mentioned that to his best friend, however, he would probably be ridiculed for consistently being whipped for you since the seventh grade.

Juyeon nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of his ringer going off. He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket, ignoring Minho’s teasing smirk at the sight of his frazzled self.

y/n: hey :) i’m gonna drop off some gingerbread cookies my mom made after practice so lmk when i can come over

Juyeon must have saved a country in a past life for this kind of luck.

juyeon: i love your mom’s cookies. you can come over whenever you’d like

y/n: how about we walk home together after practice?

juyeon: sounds good to me

Now, the pizza was starting to make his mouth water, but if you were walking home with him, Juyeon was ready to drop it and run to see you even though he loved pizza. But Juyeon loved you more than he loved pizza, and he believed that was true love.

“She made me cookies,” Juyeon announced.

“She made you cookies,” Minho repeated, leaning forward in surprise.

“Well, her mom did, but yeah.”

Minho turned his attention back to his pizza. “So this is about your mommy kink again.”

“I don’t have a fucking mommy—why would you say that?” Juyeon cried out, kicking his friend’s shin under the table.

“You don’t? Last time I checked, she was making dinner in the kitchen when I came over yesterday.”

“I’m talking about the kink!”

Yet, even a silly back-and-forth with Minho couldn’t get Juyeon down from his high over you. He was still processing the fact that you were going to walk home with him and, if Juyeon played his cards right, maybe he could get a feel of how comfortable you would be if he asked you out during the game tomorrow.

Minho snickered. “You look happy.”

Juyeon couldn’t even mask his lovesick smile and flushed cheeks. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, his head spinning at the thought of you.

“Shut up, Minho.”

The only problem with you being on the cheerleading team was that you were extremely distracting.

Juyeon was the star quarterback and frankly, it was kind of pathetic that the one thing that kicked him in the ass was seeing you in the knee socks and pom-poms. It didn’t help that you were a flyer so Juyeon’s stomach pitted with anxiety whenever he saw you being thrown up and whenever he heard a scream coming from the direction of the cheerleaders.

Today was different, though. Juyeon could care less about the screams and falls from the corner of the field. All he could think about was you and how he was going to ask you out. If his plan was going to work, it was going to draw a lot of attention and be quite embarrassing if it failed.

All of his confidence got knocked down with a single sweep when he saw someone asked you to the dance.

One of the cheerleaders broke into a fit of giggles at the sight, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god!”

You were frozen stiff, an awkward smile on your face as the guy walked onto the field with a sign and about a dozen roses. Juyeon could feel his heart sinking to the ground with each step the guy took, with each second his smile grew brighter.

“Is he seriously confessing during practice?” Sohn Youngjae asked, brows furrowed as he rested his arm on Juyeon’s shoulder. “That’s real brave.”

“What’s his deal doing it here? He isn’t even on the team,” Juyeon said, coming off more bitter than he had expected.

Younghoon scoffed. “It’s a bold move. He must be confident that Y/N’s going to say yes.”

Juyeon squared his shoulders. He was conflicted with the swell of anger and deflation of you possibly being taken, but nevertheless, all he could do was watch helplessly as you were being asked out. From where they were on the field, Juyeon couldn’t hear much, but he could see your reactions quite well. The wolf-whistles and cheers were pissing him off, but he was fixed on you.

He turned to look towards Minho, who was practicing on the field adjacent to theirs. His best friend met his gaze immediately like they had some form of exclusive telepathic communication. Minho nodded towards you and raised a brow, as if nudging Juyeon to go interrupt them. That, however, was something he was far too cowardly to bring himself to do.

Your voice resounded clearer than Juyeon had expected.

“I’m really sorry,” you apologized sincerely, ducking your head and keeping your hands entwined behind you. “I’m not interested, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

Juyeon felt a weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve felt relieved that you shot him down or nervous that you rejected an attractive, confident guy who clearly liked you. However, he soon had no time to mull over that when the guy’s reaction was getting more aggressive than crestfallen.

“Y/N, I asked you out in front of all these people,” he said with a distasteful laugh. “Are you seriously rejecting me right now?”

“Sorry, I just don’t want to go with you,” you replied firmly, voice dropping as you became more conscious of your surroundings. “I’m sorry it had to be public but you didn’t really give me a choice.”

For a split second, Juyeon wondered how he could still hear you when you were practically muttering at this point, and then he realized that he started walking to you without even realizing. His feet carried him unknowingly, hand balled at his side and eyes stony and trained on the guy.

“You could’ve just accepted it and told me later that you didn’t want to go with me,” he said with a scoff. “It’s like you enjoy humiliating others publicly.”

Your teammates rushed forward to argue and fend him off while you opened your mouth to protest, but Juyeon was faster, moving in front of you so he was head-to-head with the guy.

“She said she’s not interested,” he said with a threatening undertone, wondering where he managed to muster up the courage to be this assertive.

You were visibly shocked by Juyeon’s actions, and he couldn’t even blame you because he was equally just as surprised as you were. Yet, all he could do was glare daggers down at the other guy with steely eyes and frown until he backed off.

“Thanks,” you said softly once the guy had left.

Juyeon was flustered by all the girls giggling behind you but was amazed by how cool and collected you remained despite that. He turned to you, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He knew he was getting an earful about this from his teammates after practice and most definitely from Minho as well.

“No problem,” Juyeon replied, cheeks red. “He was bothering you. I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“That was really sweet of you, Juyeon.” You bit back a smile and suggested, “Meet you at the front gates after practice?”

“See you then.”

Even though Juyeon could’ve spent the rest of practice talking to you, he sprinted back as fast as he could because his cheeks were only getting redder as the cheerleaders gushed about what he did for you. He could hear their gossip and whispering even as he was running back to his team. Juyeon was positive he wouldn’t escape the embarrassment, though, because Lee Jaehyun was smirking at him when he got back.

“You’re blushing, dude.”

Juyeon shoved him.

There was a universal law that was newly decreed. It read: Lee Minho shall never text, call, or speak to Lee Juyeon whenever Y/N was around.

The reason for that being the fact that Juyeon was easily embarrassed and Minho’s texts were not helping his case. He felt it was rude enough to check his phone while he was walking with you, but every time he saw a notification flash, his eyes widened with sheer distress over Minho’s texts.

minho: like three people asked me if you and y/n are fucking bc of what you pulled during practice today

minho: wait are y’all fucking and just not telling me

minho: i knew it was sus that she was coming over to your house

juyeon: fake news!! stop making me feel shy :(

Juyeon decided he had enough Lee Minho for today and turned off his phone.

“That was honestly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” you gushed to Juyeon as you walked home with him, fingers looped around the straps of your backpack. “Way cooler than you punting footballs.”

“No need to flatter me,” Juyeon replied coolly but his shy smile and red-tipped ears said otherwise. “That guy was being unnecessarily aggressive.”

“His proposal was out of nowhere!” you exclaimed. “I don’t get what he expected me to do.”

Juyeon smiled through the pain. Lord, give me strength, he prayed to whatever divine power was out there.

“Are you not interested in having a date to the dance then?” Juyeon asked, looking down at you curiously.

You paused for a moment and Juyeon thought his heart would stop in anticipation for your answer. Come to think of it, he had never seen you go to a school dance with a date before. You were always with your friend group. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to see you stick with them, but Juyeon was hoping he could change that.

“Well,” you started, “if the right person asked me then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Juyeon couldn’t exactly read your smile but it made him want to faint. The rest of the walk back home was spent talking about school and football, but Juyeon couldn’t get your answer to his question out of his head. He even walked past his house because his head was so full of you, resulting in you needing to stop him and tell him that they had already reached his place.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Juyeon’s mom chirped with a good-natured smile. “How has your mom been?”

Juyeon’s eyes widened upon the realization that they never stopped by at your place first to get the cookies. He opened his mouth to interject but you went on to answer.

“She’s been great, Mrs. Lee,” you replied, smiling just as big, and pulled out a box of cookies from your bag. “She wanted me to give these to you.”

“That’s so sweet! Give her my thanks,” his mom replied and opened the door wider once she accepted the cookies. “Come in for some tea, will you?”

Juyeon was practically frozen at the doorway while you were taking off your shoes and walking inside. If you had the cookies with you this entire time, then why didn’t you just give them to him to take home himself? Unless you were worried about the courtesy, it was a bit out of your way to take the time to walk home with Juyeon to deliver them.

“Juyeon, what are you doing out there?” his mom asked. “Come inside. It’s cold.”

“Right.”

Having you over at his house wasn’t exactly the sparkly fantasy that Juyeon thought it would be.

He was getting quite jealous of your mom hogging all of your attention. It wasn’t like you and Juyeon drifted apart during high school, so he wasn’t sure why his mom had to pull you away from him and have her own conversation with you. The worst part was that Juyeon couldn’t even join in on the conversation. He had no idea what they were even talking about.

That is, until his mom brought up the dance.

“Do you have a date, Y/N?” Juyeon’s mom asked.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I usually just go with my friends.”

“You’re so pretty, though,” Mrs. Lee tutted. “I’m sure someone must’ve asked you out.”

“Actually, someone asked me today,” you said. There was a moment of silence as you looked over at Juyeon while his gaze bore into yours. For a moment, you were struggling for what to say, mouthing words that weren’t being processed. Juyeon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly once you regained your composure. “Juyeon actually helped me out.”

Mrs. Lee straightened up. “My son did?” She looked amused as she turned to Juyeon.

“Yeah,” you answered, grinning. “He was really cool.”

Juyeon blushed darkly once their eyes were on him. “W-what? I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t even doing that much. I was just helping out. You know, being a decent person,” he rambled and stood up. “Anyways, isn’t it getting late? Mom, Y/N has to go home soon and it’s gonna be pitch black outside if you keep her here.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Mrs. Lee frowned as she peered out the window. “Juyeon, you walk her home then.”

“What?” he sputtered out, looking between you and his mom before he caved, muttering, “I’ll go get my jacket.”

After an exchange of goodbyes, you had stepped out of the house and waited while Juyeon was slipping his shoes on. There was a moment of struggle where he had tied his laces too tight and couldn’t get the shoe on but he managed to slip it on after a few seconds of internal screaming. Juyeon zipped up his jacket the moment he stepped outside, the brisk coldness making his goosebumps rise.

“You really don’t have to walk me back,” you told Juyeon. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s really late,” Juyeon replied, rubbing his hands together in hopes that the friction would provide some heat. “You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself, and I really don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ducking your face. “For this, for what you did during practice—everything.”

Juyeon was glad that you weren’t looking at him because his mouth was opening and closing over and over again like a fish. He was also thankful for the fact that he could blame the dust of pink across his cheeks on the cold winter bite. Unfortunately, you lived close by so Juyeon didn’t have time to come up with a cool response and he didn’t want to leave things like this. There was a good vibe going on and he was upset that he couldn’t act upon it; when it came to you, Lee Juyeon was a coward.

“Um, we’re here so…” Juyeon trailed off when he turned to you, sort of thrown off by how beautiful you looked with your windswept hair and flushed cheeks. Dazed, he reached forward and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. “It’s good I walked you home and you’re not like, lost or… something—I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, and it was an octave higher as if you were rattled from him touching your hair. “Ah, yes, a few streets down can be a harrowing trek.”

Juyeon laughed with you before his eyes settled on you. Your hands were crossed, rubbing your arms that were prickled with goosebumps. A wave of guilt washed through Juyeon and led him to strip his jacket off immediately. He ignored the piercing chill and put his jacket around your shoulders, making sure they covered your bare arms.

“My house is right here,” you argued. “You’re going to be cold.”

“Keep it on. I have something to tell you after the game,” Juyeon said firmly. It was his second burst of courage for you today and he was a little too amped up for his own good. “If you don’t like it then give me back my jacket tomorrow.”

Before you could respond, Juyeon turned on his heel and bolted home, the biggest grin across his face because he was head-over-heels for you.

Juyeon had never been so nervous in his life.

The game was underway, Juyeon’s leg bouncing as he eyeballed the scoreboard. His team was strong in the first two quarters, cutting it close by the third, but now they were neck-to-neck. They had ended with a tie and now they decided to go into overtime for the sake of choosing a winner for the game. It was a sudden death round so whoever scored first would win the game. Juyeon, however, found it difficult to concentrate.

Especially with Lee Minho breathing down his back.

“Are you ready?” his best friend asked.

“Yes—well, no, but I don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s true.”

“I already made the sign and told the team and everything,” Juyeon whined. “I really screwed myself over, Minho.”

Minho pushed at the back of his head. “Dude, I’m talking about the game.”

“Oh, that—that’s fine,” Juyeon stammered. “Fifteen minutes—we just have to win, and then I have to ask out the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“You could chicken out,” Minho suggested, “but that also comes with me never letting you live it down.”

“You see, I kind of already implied that I’m going to tell her something important.”

“You did?” Minho’s voice was somewhere between shocked and impressed.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Juyeon muttered, pushing himself off the bench. “Keep the poster safe for me!”

“Good luck, champ!”

Juyeon, sweaty and bangs sticking to his forehead, had to ignore every distraction and think about winning the game before his stomach threw itself into a pool of anxiety over asking you out. He got in a huddle with his team in the remaining fifteen seconds they had before they had to get in formation and lowered the facemask of his helmet. It was up to this one last play to determine whether they would win the game or not.

“Just like we practiced, alright?” Juyeon told them. “Double-wing power pass. We get them to bite thinking it’s a run play and then open up a passing lane.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Jaehyun cheered, and the rest of them put in their mouth guards and lowered their facemasks.

Juyeon took a shaky breath as he got in formation at the line of scrimmage. His heart was racing but he wasn’t sure it was about the game. Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and held his ground. The whistle blew and the crowd was silent, observing the tension on the field carefully.

“Silver-80! Silver-80! Hut! Hut! Hike!” Juyeon yelled, and the center, Sangyeon, snapped the ball to him.

Juyeon faked a handoff to Jaehyun, the fullback, and spun around, rolling to his right. Changmin sped up in front of Juyeon to defend him. A smile tugged at Juyeon’s lips. Their plan was working just as he intended, but there was a problem: they couldn’t open up a passing lane for the running backs like he thought they would. The play was too rushed, so it wasn’t ever a guarantee.

So Juyeon had to do what he would normally deem crazy.

He spun at the sight of the other team coming to tackle him and skirted around the field, belting down the field. He dodged past another linebacker that tried to body him. His primary motivation was that he didn’t want a concussion before he confessed to you, but he assumed it was okay to admit that to himself as long as he didn’t throw the game.

Juyeon felt a hand grab him but he pushed forward, running across the goal line and into the end zone. He threw the ball down and cried out in joy as he scored a touchdown. The whistle blew and the scoreboard flipped. They won.

He did it.

Juyeon’s team ran to him, cheering at the top of their lungs. He was lifted up on Jaehyun and Younghoon’s shoulders, grinning happily before his heart sunk back down. The cheerleaders ran to the field, cheering and tossing their pom poms up. The crowd was roaring. Juyeon was realizing that he had to do the scariest thing that a heterosexual teenage boy ever had to experience.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” Juyeon tapped his shoulder quickly. “We have no time. I have to do it now.”

“Oh shit.”

Jaehyun and Younghoon dropped Juyeon onto the turf. Juyeon winced at the sudden impact, gathering himself back to his feet and hoping you didn’t witness that. Jaehyun gave him a half-assed apology and pushed him forward to run and get his poster and flowers from Minho. Jaehyun then grabbed Changmin by the shoulders, urging him to go to the announcer’s booth.

Juyeon sprinted over to Minho, waving his hands dramatically. “Give, give, give,” he demanded amongst all the cheering.

Minho didn’t waste any time and pushed the poster and bouquet into Juyeon’s hands. “Break a leg, tiger.”

“Trust me, I nearly did.”

Juyeon jogged back onto the field, cheeks hot and head a little dizzy for what was about to come. He didn’t even tell his mom he was going to ask you out and she had to watch her son ask his best friend out to the dance. This was probably going to be a moment of utter humiliation but once Juyeon saw you in your high ponytail with a bright smile on your face, all that fear faded away and it was just you and him.

More importantly, you were wearing his jacket over your uniform and Juyeon felt like he was going to combust from the cuteness.

“Guys, guys,” Jaehyun called to the team. “Surround Juyeon. Make sure Y/N doesn’t see him.”

Juyeon’s heart was beating a hundred miles per second. He was glad he was running on the adrenaline from winning the game because otherwise, he would be cowering in fear and sweating buckets right now.

“Everyone, listen up!” Changmin spoke over the intercom. “First of all, the football team scored a major dub today—ow! Sunwoo, cut it out—alright, I’ll get to it!” Changmin broke from the mic and started bickering with Sunwoo.

There was a pause, and Juyeon was surprised to hear Minho’s voice fill the speakers, “Anyways, my buddy and our star quarterback, Juyeon, has something to say for a special someone.”

The crowd fell silent, a couple cheers and wolf-whistles as it was pretty obvious that a confession was about to happen.

“This is so fucking fluffy,” Sunwoo mumbled.

“Shut up, Sunwoo,” Juyeon replied, nudging him with his elbow.

The football team moved out of the way so that they weren’t huddled around Juyeon anymore. Juyeon’s breath caught in his throat as he walked forward to the middle of the field, holding up his sign, reading: Will you be my sunshine?

“Y/N,” he called out loudly, “honestly this confession is long overdue, but will you go to Winter Ball with me tonight and be my sunshine?”

The crowd started cheering and whistling again, and Juyeon wanted to die. She hadn’t even given him her answer yet and everyone was acting like she had agreed and they eloped. The cheerleaders pushed Y/N forward and she approached Juyeon, looking like a deer in headlights.

Juyeon took another shaky breath and continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long so it would be an honor if I could take you to the dance,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

You bit your lip but that wasn’t enough to contain the happiness that showed on your face. You zipped up Juyeon’s jacket and threw yourself into his arms. Everyone practically exploded but Juyeon was sure his heartbeat was louder. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?

“Oh shit!” Changmin screamed over the intercom. (“Shut up, they’re having a moment,” Minho’s faint voice was picked up in the background).

“Oh my god, you just made me the happiest man alive,” he mumbled.

You pulled back and reached forward to move his damp bangs off of his forehead. “Took you long enough.”

“Wait, did you—did you like me?” Juyeon choked out.

You laughed and cupped his face in your hands. There was a shaky inhale and exhale of breaths when his lips brushed against yours, and Juyeon closed the distance, kissing you like he was starved of your touch. His hold tightened on you as you melted into him, and then you both pulled away, smiling and dazed and lovesick.

You giggled. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grinning as he brushed his nose against yours.

Juyeon could care less about all the presents and holiday cheer because he had you and you were all he wanted.

2K notes · View notes

dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

Forever and Never

A/N: One more chapter! You guys are a dream, thank you so much for reading ❤️

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, derogatory terms for homosexuality, blood/gore and death/dying

Word Count: 5690

—————————————

Eight: All Die Young

“Um… I think besides everything with Ricky… the night of homecoming was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.”

“With Bradley Lewis’s death.”

“Yeah. I-I mean, it started off as a normal day, a-a great day, actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awaking to a text from Stanley Barber, informing me that he was driving us to school, was a heavenly sight. Almost as heavenly as waking up beside the boy, himself in the near future. Grabbing my phone off its charger, I rolled onto my stomach and texted him back, my feet giddily kicking in the air. It amazed me how he could change my entire demeanor within seconds. I could go from a sniveling baby to a hopping and skipping lovesick fool when it comes to Stan. And I don’t even think he meant to have this much of an effect on me. I wondered if I had the same effect on him? I never really paid much attention to it, just accepted the fact that he would never reciprocate my feelings. Even during that time, I had no idea if we were a couple or just adoring each other. It didn’t matter, though. Stan was finally looking at me the way I wanted him to.

Jacob stared at me with unease as I skipped down the stairs, prancing my way into the kitchen for breakfast. “Mom, (Y/N)’s being weird.” He called out as he opened the front door to leave. Pam hushed him before handing me a plate of food.

“Hush, now, Jacob. Let her be in a good mood for once.”

“For once?” I frowned and sat myself down. Pam smiled over at me and gingerly kissed my forehead as I began eating.

“Yes. For once.”

When I finished eating and readying myself for the day, I received a text message from Stan.

Stan: I’m outside

Me: omw

Pocketing my cell, I called out to my family before stepping outside to see Stan in his car with a grin on his face. “Good morning, lovely!” He called out above his music as I strode up to the vehicle, climbing inside. I gave him my usual greeting before leaning over and kissing his cheek. He chuckled and waited for me to strap myself in before riding down our street. It was clear he was in a good mood, because he let me pick the music for the ride. As Waterloo by ABBA flowed out of the drawn-down car windows, I felt the comforting warmth of his hand latch onto mine. Our combined hands shook to the beat of the music as we happily sang the words to the song. Remember when I said I had only been this happy one other time? This was even better. There were never any consequences to being with Stan, never a dull moment, never a hint of doubt between our bond. I’d never been as close to anyone as I was to him. And now at last, we were even closer in more ways than one.

Stepping onto the school campus, we were no longer strangers. I still walked within my bubble, and I probably always will throughout my life, but from now on there was no need to allow Stan inside. He was planning to be beside me through it all. He wasn’t afraid to be alienated with me any longer, we were to embrace it together. We were going to allow the stares, the whispers, the rumors. Allow them to act as water on a duck’s back. I was proud of him, I was proud of us. Even as I felt the dark brown glare of Ricky Berry trail after the two of us, watching our bashful and lovestruck glances throughout classes, the way we held hands in the halls. I was certain he got the message that I was no longer his, despite the forceful way he claimed me the previous week.

At lunch, I was just about to declare my spot in line when I felt a gentle hold on my arm. Stan, with a warm grin, pulled me away and walked us to an empty table. “Um, Stan, I’d kinda like to eat lunch today.”

“I know, Nugget,” He held up two brown sacks. “I made lunch for the both of us.” The way his grin grew prideful made my heart swell in affection. We sat across from each other as he slid the bag over to me.

“Awe, Stanley, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, though,” He shrugged and watched as I took each item out of the bag and carefully organized them. “So, about homecoming. I was thinking we could make a big deal out of it. If you want to.”

“I totally want to,” I nodded, eyes trained on my task. “What were you planning, beautiful?”

I didn’t miss the bashful blush tinting his cheeks when I snuck a glance up at him. “Uh… Well, I was thinking when I pick you up, we can take, like, a shitload of pictures. Like, just let Aunt Pam go at it. She’ll love it.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And then after the dance, I wanna take you out to eat.”

“Really? Where to?”

“Nothing too fancy. You don’t like all that. I was driving around yesterday and saw this restaurant that specializes in their pasta,” I suddenly felt the tip of my nose being gently pinched. Looking up, Stan was playfully wiggling my nose with a goofy grin on his face. “I know how much you love pasta.”

“I do,” I laughed and swatted his hand away. “And after that? Are we robbing a bank and driving off into the night?”

“If only,” He wistfully sighed. “But alas, I’m afraid we’ll have to remain trapped within Brownsville until we’re old enough to run away.”

I gave a mischievous smirk. “The entire act of running away is rebellious. Why wait until we’re allowed?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t feel like running away,” We shared a laugh. “But in all seriousness, we go to my house and just chill. We can have a dance contest. Our last was a tie, remember?”

The antsy excitement rushed through my veins the closer the night approached. I was never one for making a scene about school dances, but this time was different. It was my senior year, I had Stan, Ricky was out of the picture. Or at least, he was for the next hour. After lunch, Stan walked me to photography class, the two of us hand-in-hand as we had been for the entire day. Approaching the door, he wished me a good class before leaning in and pecking my lips. Our fingertips lingered as he pulled away and continued to his own class. Feeling my burning cheeks, I turned to go into the room, but an arm blocked my path. “Hey, Zip.”

Inwardly groaning, I looked up at Ricky. His bruises were beginning to fade, the dark ring around his right eye taking its time to heal. I silently hissed at the sight of him. “What.”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize. Brad talked to me the other day and… made me realize that what I did was really fucked up. Really, babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You’re so fucking lucky I haven’t called the police on you, Ricky-”

“Yes, I know,” He sighed, discreetly rolling his eyes. “And I really appreciate it. Gives me a chance to better myself, you know? Help you better yourself. And what better way to make up for what I did than to make homecoming the most magical night for you? Yeah? We still on for tonight?”

My eyes dangerously widened at his hopeful smile, his expression melting under my fiery stare. “Are you kidding me?! Hell no! You think I wanna be anywhere near you?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“Besides, I already have another date.” I shrugged and moved to duck under his arm, but he leaned against the doorframe to decline me access inside. I quickly backed away from him, my fear kicking in at his brash behavior.

“What, Stan The Faggot? You’re really going with that fucking twink when you could be going with me?” He laughed right in my face. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.

“Don’t ever speak about Stanley that way. He’s the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met and is an even better boyfriend than you’ll ever be to anyone-”

“Boyfriend?!” He cackled. “I knew it. How could I not? It was so obvious! You’re fucking crazy.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t see the way he dresses? He’s fucking weird, (Y/N). He’s a goddamn drug dealer. What is he gonna offer you? Huh? Free weed? Babe… Come on, you are so better off with me.”

He lightly shook his head with a smile of disbelief as I took out my phone. “I just remembered. You’re not supposed to be near me, talking to me, or even looking at me. I think Jacob would love to hear about this-”

“Fuck you.” Ricky hissed before stomping away, leaving me in an empty hallway that was filled with the ringing of the tardy bell not too long afterwards. At that point, I was just about sick of guys. I was irritable during gym class, running off my anger and letting it steam off my shoulders. When the coach told us we could stop, I took greedy gulps of air and trudged to a nearby bench to rest. As I plopped down, I noticed Syd and Dina walking together to the opposite side of the field. It was good to know they were to finally talk everything out. Now for her and Stan to make up…

I was thankful for a split second for the shadow that casted over the burning sun raining down on me, but huffed upon seeing who it was. Some guy from my math class stood before me. He was shirtless, displaying his six-pack and chest glistening with sweat. He beamed down at me with a suave smirk. “Hey, Zip.”

“Hey.”

“So… I know you and Ricky are… you know. So, since the dance is tonight-”

“Sorry, I already have a date.”

“Right,” He nodded slowly, beginning to back away. “I should’ve known. No worries.”

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

“And he just walked away?!” Stan laughed on our drive home from school. My hold on his hand tightened as I tried to hold in my own laugh.

“No, he ran away!” I snorted, triggering the increase of his laughter.

“What is that, the fourth guy today?”

“Don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes as he pulled up to my house. Unbuckling myself, I froze at Stan’s intentuous stare. He reached over and grabbed my hand again, raising it to his lips.

“I expect you to dazzle everyone like you usually do.” He kissed my knuckles.

My breath hitched. “Of course. And I expect you to do better than me, like you usually do. What time should I be ready?”

“I’m picking you up at eight. On the dot.”

“On the dot, got it.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He returned it and tilted his head to try and deepen it, but I pulled away with a giggle. Stan watched in awe as I got out of the car, snatching up my backpack as I did. Waving him off, I turned and headed inside my house.

I had to look perfect. Not just for Stan, but for me. This was a new era of myself, I had shedded my skin and materialized as something beautiful. I had to showcase just how beautiful I’ve become. So, after my shower, I struck up a playlist and dolled myself up. Starting off with my hair, I simply pinned it up with white butterfly hair clips. My makeup was nothing special, other than the baby pink eyeshadow and the small application of glitter over it. To seal up the look, I added cherry lip gloss to give my lips a bit of a pop. I hoped Stan would appreciate it. My face burned at the thought of him tasting the cherry on my mouth. Backing away from my mirror before I exploded, I entered my closet. My dress was something I never thought I would ever wear. It matched my makeup in baby pink. An off-the-shoulder look that hugged my torso and flared out to the floor. I managed to zip it up myself before slipping on a pair of white heels. Turning to my reflection, I let out a breath.

I had never looked any more beautiful, I think. I remember gazing at my parents’ wedding photo as a child and wishing to look as beautiful as my mother one day. I wondered if she was looking down at me, proud of who I had become at that point. Gazing fondly down at the ring on my pinky, I blinked back the stinging of my tears.

Yeah, she’s proud.

An eager three knocks sounded at my door and I hurried to open it. Pam immediately teared up the moment her eyes settled on me, camera ready in her hand. “Oh, my baby… You look so gorgeous! Just like your mom!” She gushed. I could only chuckle as she took multiple pictures of me. Hearing a taunting laugh, I looked down the hall to see Jacob leaning against the wall, silently mocking his mother’s excitement. I kindly showed my middle finger to him, much to Pam’s disappointment. “Oh, come on. Now it’s in the picture! Jake, leave your sister alone!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He feigned innocence and batted his eyelashes at me. I playfully sneered at him before David’s voice sounded from downstairs.

“(Y/N), Stan is here!”

Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. Eight o’clock. On the dot. That punctual bastard. Clutching my phone in my hand, I nervously made my way to the top of the stairs. Everyone was waiting for me at the bottom, including Stan. God, he looked so cute. He was wearing his baby blue suit, some sort of black and tan shirt beneath that oddly went well with the suit. Leave it to Stan to defy the laws of fashion. I could tell he paid extra care to his hair, the way it was styled perfectly for his curls to sit off to the left side of his forehead. I was sure I was grinning like a maniac as I descended the stairs, but Stan’s expression was the reason I was grinning. He looked absolutely astonished and at a loss for words. His jaw was dropped and eyes were bulging as he watched me walk closer to him. When I quietly greeted him, he couldn’t even respond. Great job, (Y/N), you broke him.

“How’d I do?” I whispered and hooked arms with him. At my touch, he snapped out of his haze and beamed at me.

“You certainly did not disappoint, lovely.”

“Awe, and you aren’t looking too bad yourself, beautiful.”

Pam squealed from the sidelines before rushing over to us. “Stanley, doesn’t she look stunning?”

“Absolutely, Aunt Pam.” He grinned at the older woman as she began taking photo after photo of us. We decided to indulge her and pose for each one. All the while, I felt a red hot glare from the side. Glancing its way, I noticed Jacob fuming at the sight of Stan and I hugged up on each other. His Big Brother Mode was going to activate the second Pam was done with us. To my horror, she finished sooner than I thought. As she excitedly showed our photos to David, I watched as Jacob slowly approached us. Just as he opened his mouth to spit some sort of threat towards the poor, unsuspecting Stan, I turned to the front door and flung it open.

“Well, we really have to go! We’re already late, you know.” I chuckled and gently shoved Stan out of the house.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Pam called out after us. “You two be careful out there! And have fun!”

“And (Y/N)-” Jacob began to add in a warning, but I waved him off, mouthing an ‘I know’ as Stan scrambled to hold the car door open for me. I quietly thanked him and climbed inside. The car ride to the dance was very pleasant. The hum of soft rock music fit the mood of our night as we quietly sang along. Stan found a parking spot rather quickly and leaned back in his seat after turning the car off. Bringing the visor down, I checked myself in the mirror, gently running my fingers over my white gold hoop earrings gifted to me by my dad for my previous birthday. They were pretty expensive and I hardly wore them, so why not? Hearing a click, I turned to see Stan lighting up a joint. After he took a hit, he looked my way and smiled, offering it to me. Without any hesitation, I joined him in a quick session. As I took my third hit, I felt his eyes on me.

“What?” I raised a brow and exhaled the smoke. His eyes shown in adoration.

“What a sight you are…”

“A sight? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re sitting in my old-school car, looking like a goddess and smoking a joint. You’re so beautiful… Just perfection.”

“Jeez, maybe I should get dolled up to smoke more often.” I joked and handed it back to him. We shared a chuckle before Stan put the smoke out. He gave me a wink before getting out of the car and rounding it to let me out.

Our highs kicked in the moment we stepped into the gymnasium. Our clammy hands found each other as we walked further in. I let him lead me through the sea of dancing bodies and bouncing balloons, the two of us hitting them out of our way as we ended up near the bleachers. When we stopped, we overlooked the scene before us as I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Best theater in town, Stan.”

“Best theater in town, (Y/N),” He looked down at me with furrowed brows. “So, why aren’t you on stage?”

“I don’t perform without my co-star.”

“Well, in that case.” He took hold of both my hands and swung us around. At that, we let loose, broadcasting our best secret dance contest moves to anyone willing to watch. I thought it was perfect. The two outcasts, both outcasts for difference reasons, wildly dancing together away from everyone else. And yet, they were the life of the party. It was meant to be. My feet stung from the stomping and jumping I was doing in my heels, but I couldn’t care less.

“I fucking hate this song!” I joyfully shouted, eliciting a laugh from my date.

“Me, too!” From the sound of our laughter, it was clear the two of us were high. Three songs later, in the middle of my rounds of spinning, I felt Stan’s hands on my waist, attempting to stop me. When I did, my surroundings rotated around me and I leaned into him for support. Looking up, I saw Sydney awkwardly smiling at the both of us.

“Oh! Hey, Syd! I love your dress.” I smiled and gestured to her attire. Her smile widened.

“Thanks, (Y/N), y-you look great.”

“Awe, thanks.” I gushed and bashfully waved her off. My attention turned to Stan, who had a look of indifference on his face, but a hint of pain in his eyes. Sydney noticed it, too, and looked back at me.

“Uh… Can I borrow Stan for a second?”

“Go ahead.” I motioned. Stan stared at me for a second before following Syd onto the bleachers. I suddenly felt very out of place, so I decided to keep my hands busy and get myself some punch. Thankfully, I found Dina there, pouring herself a cup. When she noticed me, she quickly set it back down on the table and reached her arms out for a hug. “Dina, you look so good!”

“Are you kidding me?!” We engulfed each other in a tight hug before pulling away. “You look fucking amazing! You always have to show out, huh?”

“I try…” I lowered my voice. As the two of us talked, lonely guys would come up to us and ask to dance, but we would hold hands and politely decline. After the third walked away, Dina turned to me.

“Hey, so… In detention… The thing that Jenny said about Ricky. Was that true…?” The hesitancy in her voice made me deeply inhale as I nodded in confirmation. Instantly, her eyes welled up with tears as her hands covered her mouth. “(Y/N)... I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve been there for you.”

“No, no, Dina!” I quickly took her hands into mine, my heart wrenching. “It’s okay! I’m okay…”

“You’re okay? H-How are you okay?” She frowned and blinked back her tears. A warm smile twitched its way onto my face.

“Stan… he’s been making everything better…” I admitted. Dina’s face lit up before she hugged me all over again.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! I’m so happy for you! God, you fucking deserve it, girl!” She exclaimed as I hugged back, quietly laughing at her excitement. Our hug was cut short, when Dina caught sight of our dates heading toward us. I turned to them and happily watched as they approached us, their hands lazily clasped together. Sydney held out Stan’s hand over to mine and I gladly took over. “Stan!” Dina grinned at him as he allowed me to lean against his side.

“Dina, you look, um… you look like a Christmas tree.” He awkwardly complimented as I rolled my eyes. Dina looked down at herself.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded before his eye caught something. “Oh, god. Whitaker’s still watching us.” He sighed. We directed our gaze to our principal, who indeed was standing across the gym, arms folded and a piercing gaze on the four of us.

“It’s probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in his entire life.” Sydney crossed her arms, as well, as we all grinned. Stan leaned forward and placed his other hand over ours as he hummed.

“I don’t know, guys. I mean, we’re wanted criminals. Why are we out here in the open? Exposed. First rule of the heist is split the loot and split the fuck up, right?”

“We don’t have any loot, Stan.” I raised a brow in false confusion as Dina smirked at me.

“Yeah, all we did was disrespect this fine institution.”

“And disrespect ourselves.” Sydney finished, Stan humming again before we all shared a soft laugh. Stan’s smile disappeared as a slow song came on. I barely recognized it, but he sure seemed to know it. His free hand reached up to cover his eyes.

“Oh, no. On principle, I just- I can’t,” He groaned and began to free himself from my grasp. “Sorry, this playlist is all over the map. I’ll- I’ll be back.” He squeezed between Syd and I to leave, but I followed right behind. He was nearly at the DJ table, when I managed to stop his striding.

“Stan! Stan, wait!” I laughed and turned him to me. “Come on, I wanna dance to this.”

“(Y/N), I have to enlighten that poor DJ over there.”

“After this song?” I pouted and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t care about the music. I’ll dance to anything with you.”

“That is a lie, but fine,” He sighed before his hands rested on my waist. Our dance started off with timid shuffling, Stan clearly not used to slow dancing. I chuckled and directed his eyes away from his shoes.

“Stan, it’s just swaying, I promise.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look before moving with me to the music. Of course, since it’s Stan, he had to add in a few spins that had us stumbling. We laughed aloud when we almost toppled over, and we earned a few weird stares, but we didn’t give a shit. Just as it seemed we were getting the hang of it, a voice that rang throughout the gym interrupted the song and dance.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr File announced from the stage. “If I may have your attention. Stop talking. Look up here please.”

“Thank god, they stopped the song.” Stan whispered in my ear as we turned to the stage. I playfully and gently hit his chest as our teacher continued.

“It is my privilege to introduce your homecoming king and queen, Jeff Butters and Julie Frasheski!”

As the homecoming royalty hopped on stage, we all clapped and cheered for them, Stan and I exchanging looks that said ‘I have no idea who these people are’. “What up, Westinghouse!” Jeff exclaimed into the microphone, his queen by his side, the both of them wearing sashes and crowns. “Yeah! Where my boys at? Whoo! Where do I begin? I wanna thank my mom for meeting my dad-”

His amusing speech was cut off by Bradley Lewis running onstage and clamping his hand over the mic. “Listen up!” He yelled as the feedback screeched. Our smiles dropped as he swayed, clearly drunk. As Mr File tried to take the mic from him, he thrashed about and moved away. “Give me a second! I would like to take this moment to talk about something very important that affects everyone here.”

“What the fuck…?” I muttered and watched as he turned to the middle of the crowd.

“Sydney Novak!” His exclamation sent a flinch through Stan and I, and I felt him tense under my hold on his arm. “Hey, Sydney! Raise your hand! Raise your hand! Give a wave so everybody can see you!” When she didn’t comply, he moved on, proceeding to pull out Sydney’s supposed diary and flipping through it, exposing all of her secrets to the whole school. He told about how at Ricky’s party, she had kissed Dina upstairs. As he spoke, he hopped off the stage and pushed past people to stalk closer to his victim, the path to her and Dina made clear. I could see the panic in Sydney’s eyes. My blood boiled at the derogatory term he used for her sexuality, but Stan was just about ready to pop. His jaw was severely clenched and his face was flushed red in anger. I felt him move forward, but kept an arm in front of him. But there was no holding him back after the next thing Brad exposed. “And my god, don’t even get me started on the daddy issues on this one. I mean, it’s fucking worse than Zip’s! And we all know about that!” That comment punched me straight in the gut and Stan ripped his arm from my hold, pushing his way through the crowd. “Everyone in Sydney’s life thinks that she’s a piece of shit. And I mean everyone!” His cackling was interrupted when Stan broke through everyone.

“Hey, man! Leave her alone!” He went to stand in front of his friend, but Brad immediately swung, his fist connecting with Stan’s face and sending him to the ground, unconscious. My breathing stuttered before I wordlessly shoved everyone out of the way, trying to get to his limp form. There were a few people separating us that wouldn’t budge. I growled as Brad continued, shaking his fist from the blow.

“But that is not even the weirdest thing about Sydney… Novak,” He took a few steps forward, and I watched as Sydney wiped a tear from her eye. This whole situation was fucked. “Get this. Sydney claims that she has-”

To this day, I have no fucking clue how it happened, but Brad’s words were cut short when his blood and brains exploded onto everyone near him. Including me. I heard nothing but white noise the second the blood platter smacked into my hair, onto my face, my dress, my shoes. Brad’s headless body fell limp to the ground, the remaining of his brains spilling out from where his head should have been. His head should’ve been there… His head should be there! I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. My eyes were glued to the bloodied corpse on the ground. I was sure everyone was screaming and running around, but I couldn’t do the same. I saw shaking Dina’s form, trembling as she moved, but my focus snapped right back to the fucking corpse. I should’ve moved. I should’ve screamed. I should’ve ran. I should have been crying and gagging and panicking, but I just… I couldn’t. I don’t know what the fuck.

“(Y/N)!” I felt a hand pulling me by the arm, but I was in such a state of shock that I blindly let whoever drag me out of the school- no, the crime scene. I felt the cool air nip at my exposed skin, but I still couldn’t have been bothered to react to anything. It wasn’t until I felt a piece of bloody meat slip down my face and disappear into my dress that I could breathe again. I let out a blood-curdling scream as I felt it run down my skin.

“It’s in my dress! It’s touching me!” I cried. The mess of curls in front of me whipped around to face me. Through my teary-eyed vision, I could make out that it was Stan. He was awake, he was fine. But I wasn’t.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!”

“It’s in my fucking dress!” I gagged as I felt it run down my stomach. “Stan, a piece of his fucking brain-”

He firmly grabbed me by the shoulders and rushed me to his car. I hyperventilated as he placed me in the passenger seat. Before closing the door, he reached into my dress from the bottom and slid his hand from my knees, past my thighs and planted his palm on my stomach. He gagged when his hand touched the meat, grabbing hold of it and ripping his hand from my dress, throwing the flesh to the ground. Stumbling a bit, he shut my door and rounded the car to drive. I had to ride with my window down, letting the wind blow against my face to prevent the contents in my stomach from resurfacing into Stan’s car. He drove all around town, calling out for Sydney. He would glance over at me every once and awhile when I would gag or groan, but that was it.

What a sight I was.

Do I look beautiful now, Stan?

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

When Stan decided to give up on the search for Sydney, he sped us to his house. The sirens of police cars and ambulances echoed within my empty mind. But the moment I left the car, I hurled my guts up into Stan’s yard. He caught me before I could fall and rubbed my back until I emptied my stomach. Then when I was done, I did the same for him.

I had no concept of time, I can’t remember how long we were throwing up in his front lawn, but when we were done, he guided me inside the house and down to his room. The second he let go of me to retrieve new clothes, my entire body trembled and shook uncontrollably. “S-Stan… S-S-Stan.” I whimpered out. He returned to me with clothes tucked under one of his arms. He held me by the elbow and guided me to his bathroom, sitting me down on the toilet lid before starting up the shower for me.

“Nugget? Hey, do you want me to-”

“N-No.” I don’t know why I said that. I needed him in that room with me. He was patient enough to look away as I undressed, nearly falling a few times, and stepped into the shower. He left the door slightly ajar, so I was sure he could hear my sobbing as I sat down, letting the water rinse me of Bradley Lewis’s blood and guts.

I returned to Stan in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He stood from his bed and carefully watched the way I moved. The way I slowly blinked and walked two steps at a time toward him. Silently, he lifted his covers for me to lay down. I stared at him emptily for a few beats before complying, my back facing him. I felt his lips on my neck and gladly welcomed the kiss before he whispered into my ear, “I’m gonna shower now, okay? I won’t be long.”

“Go ahead.” I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. As Stan showered, my shaking hands reached up and freed my locks from my hair clips. I tried to keep my crying near-silent as I did so, but I wasn’t too sure how loud I was being. Within time, he had returned and laid down beside me in bed. And from the warmth I felt when his back touched mine, I could tell he was shirtless. It was painfully silent as we both unevenly breathed. I bit my fingers to keep myself from crying again. Everything about me felt unbalanced. I wanted to be beaten even. It’s what I deserved for not taking care of myself.

“Hey.” Stan’s whisper broke my train of thought.

“H-Hey…”

“You asleep?”

“No… You?”

“No.” He muttered as I felt the bed dip when he turned around to spoon me. His leg draped over mine as his arms pulled me closer. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as he deeply inhaled. I closed my eyes and willed myself to ask the question brewing in my mind,

“Do you have any idea what the fuck happened? B-Brad just… h-he fucking…”

“I know,” He murmured against my skin, his hold tightening as well as his throat. I could tell by the way he choked on his breath. “I… I’ll explain it another day. N-Not tonight.”

As we fell asleep an hour later, I knew he’d never explain it.

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @magicalgothpandamaker

#i am not okay with this #i am not okay with this x reader #ianowt #ianowt x reader #ianowt fanfic #ianowt stanley barber #stanley barber #stanley barber x reader #wyatt oleff #wyatt oleff x reader #forever and never

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— HYMN OF THE LOVESICK ; PART 5 / ?

( gif from this beautiful gifset by @knightwayne )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: Alfred definitely knows something about Bruce that you’re not willing to think about and Bruce has an epiphany that changes the way he sees you.

A/N: Guess who forgot which day pbr is usually posted? This idiot here. God, I’m sorry and this chapter can be boring. Next chapter will have a lot more going on, I promise. Also, this might end in the next chapter or two. Enjoy, folks.

WARNINGS: Kinda dramatic because I’m dramatic.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Driving through the Wayne estate gives you a sense of much-needed peace. The never-ending tunnel with walls of identical colossal pine trees as you faintly hum to Aretha Franklin over the low whirring of the running engine. It’s a quarter to noon, and the sun doesn’t seem to shine in the city of Gotham—clouds of grey constantly shield its optimum shine, only to ever allow rays to seep through the gaps in the moving Autumn wind. You don’t mind it and you never did, growing up in the city left clouds unnoticed to you unless it signified the arrival of a thunderstorm. Weather and nature are the least of your concerns but you would appreciate it now and then.

The tunnel of trees comes to an end as a clearing of extensive fields emerges into view. What is left of the Wayne Manor still stands with ostentation, despite its skeleton along with its dignity rotting away to be eventually consumed by mother nature herself. There’s a sense of eeriness to it; you find it odd how a building could seem so alive at times, like it's watching you, despite its apparent decay.

You turn your head away and focus on the road.

A glance at your hand on the wheel, you’re reminded of last night, when his hands held yours—it burns at the mere thought of his gentle touch. And the drive home, silent with the occasional glances and small smiles. You recall how the passing streetlights cascade hues of orange on his wearied expression and how his eyes were bright when they flit to your figure in the passenger seat for just a moment. Something must have changed between the two of you, but you can’t quite tell what. Maybe it’s your undying love for Bruce. Maybe he feels the same way. You snort to yourself, alone in your car, one can only dream but it doesn’t mean they all come true. Bruce may love but he doesn’t commit. You can’t commit too. Now, you’re starting to believe you’ve been lying to yourself.

The glasshouse comes into view as you steer around the bending road and into the driveway. It contradicts everything the manor was but only shared its sense of glory. You like the glasshouse, less deafening and structured with the purpose of bareness and vulnerability but its dark furnishings keep it grounded and secure. Its sense of balance tricks your mind into thinking you’re stable. His car is still around, parked by the porch but you don’t see him, ambling around the household.

Switching off the ignition, you snatch the paper bag from the passenger seat and clamber out of the car. Darker clouds begin rolling from afar, your hair flying in the strong wind. A storm is coming, you’re sure of it. One of the rare times it rains during the season. You dread the thought of having to drive back into the city and across Westward Bridge. Driving over bridges built over the water in the rain scares the heck out of you.

As you swing the car door to a close, you hear the shuffling of feet amongst leaves behind you. Alfred, with a barrel of chopped wood—stocking up for the winter. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes albeit startled by your sudden presence. He mentions your name with endearment; you greet him with a small smile. You always liked Alfred. You enjoyed his company.

“What a pleasant surprise seeing you here,” he says, pushing the barrel aside as he nears you. “I’m afraid you just missed Bruce. He left for Metropolis an hour ago—duty calls.”

You nod, ignoring the clench in your heart. He hadn’t told you anything but frankly, you weren’t expecting him to anyway.

“Well, I just came by to drop off this,” You lift the paper bag, swaying it a little within your grasp. “As a thank you gift, you know.” Alfred smiles at this, gestures towards the house in a beckoning manner. “Come on in, I’ll make you some tea.” Before you could even protest, he’s gently guiding you to the door by the shoulder. It’s hard to say no to Alfred, especially when he offers tea.

Your mind wonders as you watch the drizzle of rain form ripples in the lake. You sit on a chair with a contemporary structure to it; it digs into your lower back, due to your bad posture. Uncomfortable but nice-looking and great armrests. Contradicts everything a chair should be. Alfred emerges from the kitchen with a black ceramic mug in hand, steam from the brewed tea lingering above it. He holds an identical mug, for himself. With two hands, you clasp onto the mug with acceptance, a radiant appreciative smile upon your lips. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.” Alfred shoots you a look of disdain, “I’ve told you many times, Alfred is fine.” Taking a sip, you shake your head, a smile still lingering. “No way. I have too much respect for you to call you by your first name.” Alfred mirrors you, settling for the chair to your right, swiftly sliding the scatter of papers to the corner of the table. You find it easy to fall into a natural conversation with the older man—the two of you are mutuals after all of a certain billionaire. Yet, Alfred is more of a father figure, having practically raised Bruce and you, well, it’s complicated. It always is. You don’t know where you stand in his life, and you're not sure if you want to know.

“Anyway, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.” It’s true. The usual sight of the butler sauntering around the glasshouse or somewhere in the Wayne Estate was absent during the last two weeks. Alfred is always around, his disappearance was glaring, impossible to go unnoticed.

He shifts in his seat, placing his mug on the table, teaspoon moving with a soft clang. “I was visiting family back in England. I appreciate that you have noticed my absence,” An eyebrow raises, your laugh comes out more like a huff. “Always, Mr. Pennyworth.”

Family. Mother. Dinner—you remember the dinner with your mother on Sunday night, and you’re the host. The host hasn't decided on the menu for tomorrow’s meal. Oh God, it’s tomorrow. Procrastination is your friend but your family’s expectations for you aren't. If you pop enough wine bottles, maybe she'll be too drunk to be disappointed by the end of the night.

And the wedding. The mere thought makes you sick. You don’t want to bring a date, but you don’t want to be alone. Weddings, love, couples—it makes you tick. It’s a glaring reminder of how your love life is an absolute disaster and your inability to maintain relationships. It’s hopeless, you’ll die a spinster and everyone lives happily ever after.

“Are you alright?”

It’s funny how those three words have been the most frequent words you would hear from those around you. You appreciate the concern, really, but you can’t help but feel there’s a stronger and deeper meaning to those words. It’s a question of assurance, a reality check, and a realization that you might be broken. Everyone is broken—in their own ways.

Although you seem reserved to some people, your tendency to open up about your issues to those close to you contradicts that though you instantly regret it. Especially when people tell you to change. You hate change. It’s terrifying.

You pause, suddenly feeling...fidgety. Yet, in the words of Bruce: In Alfred, you trust.

Remember, keep it light. You don’t want to haul all this luggage of yours onto an aging man. He’s already got Bruce’s luggage.

“My cousin’s getting married in two weeks and,” you sigh, he listens intently. “And as pathetic as this sounds, I really don’t want to go to it alone.”

Your words are direct, straightforward and you sound like a whiny teenager or the main character in a Wattpad story but truth be told, there’s an underlying meaning to it and you know, Alfred knows it. You just don’t want to admit it.

He takes a beat, assessing your sentence like he’s a therapist, wanting to select his words carefully. “Well, I don’t think you’re pathetic. It’s...understandable,” he flashes you a pointed look and you find yourself straightening your back. “Why don’t you ask Bruce?”

Your brain must have short-circuited at that moment.

Oh, hell no. Not in a million years.

You’re shaking your head, laughing nervously. “No, no. No. Never. I couldn’t possibly ask him to do that. He’s already done so much for me—”

“You’ve done a lot for him too.”

A pause, words stuck in your throat. You just look at Alfred through confused eyes. You’re not sure what that means. He’s staring at you with a knowing look. You sigh, shaking your head in denial once more. “No, that’s...that’s not true.”

It’s almost infuriating how stubborn you can be sometimes that it’s even irritating yourself. You’re staring at your fingers, playing with the tag attached to the teabag by a thread. As far as you’re concerned, Bruce is...the greatest friend you’ve ever had. Through thick and thin, he’s been there for you. He’s always there. It’s partly the reason why you have fallen for him in the first place. Hard. He’s easy to love when he wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s rare but it’s beautiful. You almost feel ashamed to be allowed to see him in that light.

“Bruce will do just about anything for you,” Alfred says calmly as he watches you avoid eye contact. “And I know, you’ll do the same for him.” You throw your eyes at the older man as he cops you a look. Your heart is beating so fast, so thunderous, you hear it in your ears. He’s right and you know it. That accidental kiss to your forehead on the night you asked him to come for the play comes back to mind in a flash. It feels like a mark on your forehead, it feels like it’s burning.

“Would you like a scone with that?” He’s pointing to your tea and with that, he’s off to the kitchen once more, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It’s late—a quarter to four in the morning. He spends most of his nights in the Batcave, hidden away from all the sounds and tumult of the world, shrouded in the darkness as the light of the computer screen cascades on his tired eyes. He ambles through the glasshouse, weary feet against hardwood floors, body begging to lay on grey sheets though he dreads a vacant bed.

He strains his eyes peering into the gloom when he perceives a paper bag, sitting idly on the table by the window. Nearing it, there’s a yellow post-it note stuck onto the bag and under the gentle light from the moon that reflects against the lake, he can make out words written on it.

It’s from you.

Thanks for coming to the play. I would have bought you something else, but I’m really broke. Sorry. I owe you one.

A drawn heart follows it. It’s tiny. His chest feels warm.

He should have recognized the paper bag because inside, there are four bagels. Four Asiago bagels. He laughs, it comes out more like a puff of hot air, feeling the warmth that resides in his chest spreading throughout his body.

Then, it hits him like a bullet to the heart. The impact is strong, powerful. Your impact on him is strong, powerful. There’s no mystery to his feelings for you but at this moment, he’s completely certain. For the first time in life.

He loves you.

Bruce staggers into the chair, hand carding back the strands of his hair. He can’t keep doing this to you. Whatever the hell is going on. Your friendship, the...stupid agreement. He wants none of it because it feels like he’s constantly going around in circles.

But what do you really want, Bruce?

TAGLIST

@raineeace

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #alfred pennyworth #justice league

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rouiyan · 4 years

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𝘚𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

⧏ part of the before i met you collective ⧐

synopsis: "how could i ever say no?"

✧ lee donghyuck x (fem.) reader, best friends to loverz

✧ genres : plotless fluff, tiny angst ✧ word count : 2k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — guys, hyuck deadass has my whole heart.

“ahh,” you hold your mouth wide open, eyes never leaving the screen, in the direction of donghyuck who had just returned from the kitchen, snacks in hand. he’s in his usual getup of an oversized hoodie paired with basketball shorts, glasses propped upon the bridge of his nose and a messy flop of hair cascading over it.

he sighs, “geez, give me a break. i barely just sat down.” he pinches open a bag of spicy potato chips and pops one into his mouth before reaching to get another one for you. you’re clicking furiously and muttering various curses under your breath at the opponent and donghyuck's weak heart can’t help but flutter at how worked up you get every time you fail to land a punch. he’s about to put his hand down and wait for a time when you're not so focused but your mouth snatches at the chip and he almost jumps, his hand fearing consumption.

it takes your absolute all before you finally beat the boss, you eyes almost rolling back into your head and refusing to roll back out because of how exhausted they are. school was about to start, in three days to be exact, and if you didn't finish the game now, well, it was now or never. donghyuck sat by your side, mouth full of greasy potatoes, occasionally sipping from whatever drink he had brought. there was no reason for him to be here, he just insisted that he felt you tended to need some emotional support whenever you gamed, claiming that you were always far too 'out of it' to actually care for yourself. he said, as he always does, that it was his job to care for you. and that held true; no matter if you had a boyfriends at the time or not, donghyuck manged keep his word.

turning to look at him, your breath ragged, you see that his hood is pulled well over his forehead. chuckling, you take a fistful of the front of his sweatshirt and gently yank him towards you while grasping at the material of his hood with your other hand and tugging it back. this action causes his heart to topple and his eyes to stutter wide. your nose is close enough for him to move bare centimeters and place a gentle kiss on it. your lips are close enough for him to move bare millimeters and place a gentle kiss on it. he gulps. this can't be good.

giggling and awfully unaware of your best friend's crush for you growing by the second, you scrunch your nose at him (the very nose he wanted to kiss) and purse your lips, "i wanna see your face, silly." all donghyuck can do is swallow his feelings and instead be left breathless by your side profile. the more rational side of his mind is busy scrambling for a reply that doesn’t make him sound like the lovesick idiot of the century while the more irrational side is left in a blundering mess, bouts of adoration emitting from within. he collects himself and makes sure his countenance doesn't give away his rumbling inner thoughts. “you like what you see?”

your smile grows fonder, if possible, at his comment but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes from your face just because he knows the little blush that’s to appear. soon enough it blooms across your cheeks and he lovingly coos at the sight while your smile reverses into a small pout. “ugh, so flirty,” he hears your muttered reply although he's unsure if he was meant to. your head is already turned back to the screen after the little exchange and he holds onto it as you press ‘resume,’ replaying it in his head just to see that bright smile and little pout that he could never get sick of.

a few more chips are fed to you while you continue playing, which would be completely fine if not for your incredibly low spice tolerance. it isn't long before donghyuck notices your aggressive hissing that is definitely not from the sight of your character frolicking through a field. he's on the cusp of bringing it to your attention when you abruptly speak between two seethes, "hyuck, get me water please," he immediately moves from his spot to get water from the kitchen when you voice out your struggles once again. "actually, just get me anything. it doesn't matter."

donghyuck watches as your tongue curls at the tingles and he gauges the severity of the situation. he quickly snatches the drink he'd brought with him, despite knowing you wouldn't like it very much, and brings it up to your lips. you take one, two, three gulps before you turn to look at him with wide eyes. he swears your about to hurl the contents onto him and he winces in preparation but it never comes. you thickly swallow, the liquid almost threatening to bubble up once again, a gag reflex. the spicy sensation is gone but is now replaced by blatant disgust as your mouth hangs open as if you’d been force fed.

"red bull? hyuck, you're fucking kidding me!"

he bites back a smile as he settles his eye on your disbelieving face, "you said it didn't matter!"

"yeah, i did say that but that's red bull! literal poison!"

"hey, you’re not gonna die from one sip." a smirk is now forming on his face, he feels equally bad and equally good for being the center of your current attention.

"i can't believe you're still drinking that, hyuck." the pout returns and donghyuck silently rejoices, "i thought you said you were cutting back."

he bathes in your eyes for a split second before he simply replies, "i am."

"so what's that?" you eye the can suspiciously, upset that your best friend still succumbs to the unhealthy beverage.

"it's just a little energy boost, princess. i gotta stay awake to keep you company."

the nickname that accidentally slips past his lips catches the both of you off guard, his cheeks flaming a deeper red with each moment passing. you seem to handle the flustered silence better than he does, even going as far as furthering his state by scooting closer to him and placing both hands on one of his shoulders, propping your chin upon them. he can feel your fresh breath tickle and fan the skin under his ears and he knows that if he just so much turns his head in the slightest, he will be face to face with you in all your glory, without much space in between. he's not sure if he's ready for that.

clearly you don't give a shit because you tilt your head upwards to give him a kiss to the cheek. a soft, billowy kiss that leaves him stuck in that same trance, perpetually. withdrawing, you try poking at his sides to see if his expression will budge from the fazed out gaze he's sporting, but to no avail. "hyuck? are you okay?" he can hear you but he knows he's way too 'out of it' to answer. damn, you were supposed to be the one that was 'out of it.'

the sudden quietness of the room unsettles you and you're suddenly aware of his reaction. weird, you think, hyuck is never like this. hyuck's always and constantly flirting back and making sure he has the last word. you have an inkling on what this could be about but you almost instantly flush down the idea of bringing it up but it's hard to suppress because your gut instinct tells you that you’re right, that you should go for it. no, he really can’t like you. no, you're just deluding yourself... unless, you're not.

"hyuck," you blurt before you can even stop yourself. his head snaps up at the sound of his nickname. "do you like me?"

where it was previously beating a mile a minute, donghyuck's heart is now at a complete standstill. he can still hear it thumping louder than ever in his ears but he knows there's no way he'll live through this. taking a second to zone out of the whole situation, he notes that your character on the screen is now being mauled by a mob of freakish creatures, though the volume is turned low. he notes how your fingers are absentmindedly drumming on the fabric of your sweats as you usually would when you're nervous and that your blinking more than normal. maybe that was a sign you liked him back? maybe, but surely no. there's a dull ache in his heart that yearns for him to be selfish and just say no. he'd spare the potential loss of your presence by his side and just cope with always being the 'best friend.' but then he thinks of you meeting someone, that's not him, and dating someone, that's not him, and maybe one day even marrying someone, that's not him. he admits that the pain will be far greater than the dull ache he's experiencing now and perhaps that knowledge is exactly what he needs to persuade himself. donghyuck steels his heart because he thinks he's finally found the perfect reasons, the perfect timing, the perfect amount of courage to confess.

and he also knows that, if this were to go downwards, it might as well be the last time he sees you like this, dressed down in the dead middle of night, hair a tangled yet endearing (or so he thinks) mess, and eyes wide, holding galaxies upon galaxies of stars, none of which could compare to the sheer light you radiate. donghyuck makes sure to revel in your presence, for what could be the very last time, to capture your features, the ones he already has committed to memory. he breathes.

then, without warning, "hyuck…i love you," wait, what?! "hyuck, i love you as more than a friend." your pupils are shaking and there's tears that are unshed but visible. there's so much more that's stuck in your throat refusing to come out but the few words that made it past the threshold of your mouth already say enough. donghyuck expects the grim reaper to appear in a matter of seconds, he expects to be able to detach his spirit from his physically unmoving figure and watch as you say those words over his dead body. any minute now. but the more he sits there the more he realizes that this is real. you are real.

you can feel the emotions building up inside of you while he just stares at you. unmoving, he stares and stares and stares until you think that you've only imagined the last few moments. your crying now and perhaps that's the only things that slaps donghyuck out of his trance. he rushes his arms around you in the most automatic matter. it isn't until your the front of your face soaks the entirety of the front of his hoodie that you feel a little less shitty. your face is smushed flush against his chest and when you finally come to your bearings, you notice his heartbeat contracting erratically on your forehead. emerging from his embrace yet still in his hold, you meet your eyes with his. they're wide and scared, reminding you of just moments ago.

"i was- i was going to say that, exactly that but i- i guess you beat me to it."

"then... do you wanna be my boyfriend?" i want to be your girlfriend.

"damn it y/n, stop stealing my lines!" can i be your boyfriend?

"is that a no?" just say yes. i want to hear you say yes.

"n- no, yes. i mean no, it's not a no. and yes, i want to be your boyfriend." how could i ever say no?

#nct #nct fics #nct donghyuck #nct haechan #nct donghyuck fics #nct haechan fics #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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royalcordelia · 4 years

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I Fell Down and Saw Him Rise

Summary: Gilbert writes no letter and Anne doesn't speak with Winifred. An alternate take on the renowned 3x10 scene. (2k, Rated G)

This is based off of this prompt I received from an anon a few days ago! Hope this helps you enjoy quarantine a bit more, nonnie! ♥

-*-

Anne did not expect to enjoy Charlottetown as much as she did. It was a far cry from home to be true. Yet it could not be denied that the city air smelled so enticingly of possibility and promise, and as Anne marched down the streets in her new gown under the shade of her parasol, she felt more and more like a real lady. Gentlefolk she met eyes with no longer looked down their noses in classist disgust. Instead, some nodded politely and others offered appreciative smiles at her refined attire. The golden fields of Avonlea and the perfume of their wildflowers still followed Anne in her heart, and she lived along with - not in spite of - its memory. Her soul was wide and an adventure was hers for the taking.

Then, Anne’s eyes fell upon something that made her heart drop to her stomach.

The sight of Winifred was a harsh dousing of cold water. The calm of the day was broken and the early autumn air became bitterly frigid. The blonde beauty appeared as genteel as ever she did, standing with a sort of guarded sophisticated expression on her face. She watched as her servants loaded her belongings into a carriage, though something far away occupied her gaze, and she hadn’t noticed Anne.

Anne paused. Should she venture forward and say hello? Was Gilbert here? Her heart sank at the thought of him. If Winifed was loading her things into a carriage, did that mean that Gilbert was leaving...Leaving today?

It was then that one of the servants noticed the pale redhead standing in the gateway and whispered a few words to Winifred. Immediately, she fixed a sharp glare at Anne with such palpable disdain that it made Anne step back. Her grip on her parasol tightened. Had Winifred always hated her so much? Maybe Gilbert said something, told Winifred about the letter he’d received from Anne? If Gilbert despised her as much as Winifred seemed to, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

Just let it go, Anne, she told herself. Let him go.

More dignified than she felt, Anne opened her parasol and rested it on her shoulder. She gave a polite smile, a short nod, and continued walking down the street.

The Blackmore House was a welcome sight. Anne’s walk home had been overwhelmingly occupied by thoughts of Gilbert as the last of her hopes tried desperately to cling to her. The optimistic side of her, the side that could so easily picture Gilbert appearing out of thin air and declaring his undying love, needed to be quieted. Soon, the Avonlea girls would be home to ease her thoughts, and in turn, the dull ache of her heart.

Her gaze fell down to the flowerbed along the edge of the house. The familiar blooms had begun to wear thin and pale with dryness.

“My poor friends, you’ve been neglected,” Anne murmured softly. She took the watering pail from the porch step and began to sprinkle what was left overtop the soil. “I admit, I’ve also been feeling a little like I’ve lost my vibrant colors. Still, you all are quite fortunate. How lovely it must be to entwine your roots with those beside you, to never be separated from them. I hope you’ll all enjoy this bit of rain.”

Above her, a cottony cloud split down the middle and drenched Anne and her flowers in sunlight. She swore it tasted like honey or sugar on her lips.

“Some sunshine will do all of us some good,” she continued. “It’s hard to linger on things that pain us if we’re sitting in the sun together, even if those things are wont to hurt excruciatingly.”

Caressing soft petals, Anne felt herself teetering on the precipice from which there was no return. If she opened up her mind to thoughts of Gilbert, she wouldn’t be able to stop. More and more, she was unsure if her heart would survive the onslaught, regardless of all her words to Diana that had been of healing and moving on.

Yet before she could venture down the path to thoughts of unruly, night-sky hair and melodiously deep laughter, she heard a pair of footprints race up the front path. Her head shot up, the sight before her causing her jaw to drop.

Gilbert Blythe was bounding up the path, aided by the wind at his back. He looked wild, dressed without his jacket and sweating through his white shirt. Anne’s mind raced - what could he possibly be here for? Had he heard that she was living in Charlottetown and come to see her before leaving for Paris?

Anne rose from where she knelt by the flowerbed, and when Gilbert finally saw her, he stumbled forward and jolted to a halt. His eyebrows were knit in a strange expression, causing a wave of self consciousness to come over Anne. She could dress in beautiful azure gowns and curl her hair into any fashion she wanted, but Gilbert had known her at her worst. He wasn’t likely to be distracted by the new change - she was the same Anne he’d always known.

“Anne-” he choked out, but anything else he wanted to say was caught in his throat. He was dissipating before her, his gaze desperate and his appearance disheveled beyond imagination. A tremor shook his hands and a pang of dread shot through Anne. She rushed up to him, searching his eyes and finding only desperation and something akin to wonder.

“Gilbert? What are you doing here?!” she exclaimed. Gilbert gaped, but no words came out. His eyes roved over her, a shaky sigh leaving his lips and grazing her cheeks. “What’s wrong? Is Delly ill or-”

“I’m in love with you.” Anne was stunned to silence, her cheeks burned scarlet and her world flipped upside down on its axis. Gilbert himself was caught off guard by his own admission, but he pressed on. “I’m so enormously in love with you and I’m going to Toronto.”

Anne blinked, trying to clear her mind, but it was full to the brim with his confession. Her knees gave out their strength, and she lurched in a rising tide of bliss. Misinterpreting her reaction as fear, Gilbert took a step forward and searched her eyes.

“Please don’t be alarmed. I would never pressure you to feel or be anything you refuse to be. But the things you do want, Anne, I want you to have them. Still more than anything, I want you to want me.” He reached for her hands, finding them already open to him. “I had no hope of it when I left Avonlea, but then Diana found me on the train. I knew I’ve been acting like a fool, but I had no idea how much. Anne, you need to know I’m not engaged. I won’t ever be - that is, unless one day...”

Anne whispered his name, a soft plea to give her a moment to process, but Gilbert shook his head, taking her quiet tone as trepidation.

“I don’t expect your favor - wouldn’t dream of expecting it since I’ve done nothing that warrants I should deserve it,” he added with a self-deprecating scoff. With a deep breath, he let his honesty show on his face. “I just came because I need you to know that you are exquisite . I’ve always thought so and I always will.”

All Anne’s words were gone. In a blissful instant, all that was left was an overwhelming, incoherent hurricane of feeling. It turned her insides to nectar from the head down, tempering down time and making the slow moments sweet.

Gilbert wasn’t sure what to make of her silence. He searched her wide eyes for any reason to hope and waited several moments into the quiet before dropping her hands. He gave a stiff nod and began to turn away.

“That’s that, then.”

But for Anne, it was far from over. Her euphoric haze dissipated the second his warmth was gone, but her fingers brushed his sleeve out of instinct as he moved. Before Gilbert could even take a step, she seized his face and kissed him soft and desperate.

Gilbert dissolved. Out of instinct, he let his hands tangle into the curls of her hair and gently pull loose the knots. His lips were soft as they moved beneath hers, yielding and honeyed. He was the first to pull back, an awed grin turning his face gold in the sunlight. It was his turn to have a mind of jumbled words.

“Diana said...but I thought she might be mistaken...but you-” Something in Anne’s eyes changed that silenced the words on his tongue. “Anne, I have to know. Do you truly have feelings for me?”

Anne had half a mind to kiss him again, but she was a lover of words and a lover of him. If there ever was a time to string together poetry and use the lavish words of her heart, it was now. Yet, she found the songlike verse that swelled in heart articulated itself much simpler than she expected. Reverently, Anne uttered, “I do. I love you.”

His reaction was everything she was hoping for, everything hers had been moments ago. With a cry of delight, he took Anne into his arms and pressed her against him. Her arms found their way around his neck and she laughed in delight.

“I never got your letter,” he confessed into her hair, running his fingers along the soft curls. Anne leaned back enough to peer up into his face, delighting in the lovesickness she found there. “I should’ve written a letter or my own. Maybe then we would’ve faced less misunderstandings.”

Anne hummed. “A small part of me believes I still would’ve found a way to complicate matters. What would you have written?”

“Dear Anne, thanks for the pen and good luck at Queens .”

She laughed, fighting the urge to lay her head back on his shoulder.

“No, really!”

Gilbert pondered this for a moment. His hand reached for the constellations on her cheek, caressing each freckle as if they were tempered flecks of gold.

“Dear Anne, I write to you a fool in man’s clothes for mistaking everything for so long. You are the true, the only object of my affection and my desire . And then I might say something about how you couldn’t have possibly known that smacking your slate over my head would be the start of me falling hopelessly in love with you.” He embellished his statement with a kiss at the corner of her mouth. “What would you have replied?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have replied anything,” Anne answered. “I would have rushed across the fields between our houses to see you, and then I suppose the following events would’ve been much as they’ve been today.”

“And if I were already gone?”

“Then I would’ve even taken a train to Toronto to see you.”

Gilbert’s expression dimmed slightly.

“Toronto is much more far away than it sounds,” he lamented.

“I know where Toronto is, thank you very much,” Anne teased. “You’ll write?”

“Every day if you want me to.”

He might’ve said more, but the clambering of a carriage up the lane of Mrs. Blackmore’s house interrupted him from progressing further. Gilbert squeezed Anne’s hand with a regretful expression. It was not the parting either of them wanted, but the pain of saying goodbye was soothed by the knowledge that it would not be the last goodbye. A mere week until delivered letters, a few months until they could be reunited - the time would pass like seconds when there was so much life to be lived.

With one last smile, Anne kissed the inside of Gilbert’s palm and whispered, “Come home someday, Gilbert Blythe.”

His eyes were all the colors of Avonlea blended together.

“I will.”

#anne with an e #anne of green gables #shirbert #shirbert fic #anne and gilbert #tessa writes #much looooove to you all!#*sprays you in lysol*#*but lovingly*

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

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Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC Genre: BTS Mafia!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn WC: 3222 “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

AO3 | WP

Chapter 08: Am I Wrong?

“Did I say something wrong? Did I lie?”

“Hey, Eden! When are you going to take a break?”

She grunted while shifting her back on the creeper, the wheels creaking as they slid along the concrete. Sweat clung to her brow and she attempted to swipe it away with her forearm. Eden could feel the bandana beginning to soak with sweat, but she refused to stop. Her grip tightened on the socket wrench in her hand, her other hand moving to swivel the under-hood light so she could get a better look at the various rods and pipes situated in the underbelly of the vehicle.

“Seriously, you’ve been at it for three hours straight.” Minki knelt and peered at her from beneath the vehicle. “You need to take a break.”

“Then you take a break,” she said, the heel of her boot scraping along the ground, "I’m not stopping you.”

There was a collective chorus of groans that echoed in the shop. She smirked, ignoring the drop of oil that fell on her cheek. Eden knew that she probably did need to stop and take a moment. But she was stubborn. When she set her mind on something, be it a hobby or a work order, she always saw it through to the very end. She knew her employees were probably aggravated with her for always taking on the most complicated jobs, but succeeding in even the most impossible endeavors made her reliable. Reliability equaled reputation growth.

And a good reputation ensured a steady flow of regular customers.

Even though it was the 21st century, women in certain types of vocational fields were frowned upon. It was even worse in South Korea. At least in America, she only had to deal with the occasional discriminatory remarks. Mostly it had to do with her skin color and her status as an orphan. But here? Well, they judged her on her skin color, her social standing and her occupation. Triple threat – a term she’d been wearing as a badge of pride.

Maybe that was why she was surrounded by co-workers who were similar. Not necessarily due to the outward appearance, but all of them were relatable in a way. But if they were passionate about their jobs, then that was all Eden cared about. It’d taken her long enough to build up her shop and secure regular business. Now she could say, with confidence, that she’d achieved success on her own terms.

Yoon Minki, her assistant and one of her best friends, sighed as he grabbed at her foot and began to shake it back and forth. She lifted her head up so she could peer at him from just over her stomach. He looked like he was torn between scolding her or just giving up.

If she ignored him and went back to work, the former would start up.

Eden sighed, setting the socket wrench on her stomach. “What?”

“Food.” Minki emphasized this by shaking her foot again, this time with more force. “Now.”

“Fine,” she clipped, dragging the heels of her boots toward her so she could slide out from under the car on the creeper. Looking up, she saw her other employees grinning. Had she really been the reason they were waiting? She set the wrench down on the ground and stood up, dusting off the backs of her overalls. “Alright, let’s eat.”

Entering the main office, they all crowded toward the back room where there was a small kitchenette. Minki began setting utensils down around the table and Jumin started putting rice into the metal bowls. The side dishes were already out and the excitement at the prospect of finally eating could be felt all around the room. Eden pushed passed the others as they began to take their seats and Taejun kicked her chair out so she could slide into it. Hyuksoo ladled bean sprout soup into larger metal bowls and set them down in their appropriate spots. Everything smelled delicious and Eden felt a twinge of guilt. She really needed to stop hyper focusing when she was at work, otherwise she was going to starve her employees half to death.

Once the table was set, they all clapped their hands and began digging in.

The conversation circulated around the table and laughter boomed in the small break room. Eden nearly choked on the spoonful of rice she’d swallowed. Minki handed her a cup of barley tea and she washed down the rice and kimchi in her mouth, unable to stop herself from laughing at the insults being fired back and forth between Taejun and Hyuksoo. Jumin fussed at them for causing such a ruckus at the table and Minki joined in on the teasing.

The five of them were like family and Eden wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Her eyes lingered on her phone that sat just in front of her rice bowl. Eden’s smile fell as she lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips, as if she were anticipating it to light up. When it didn’t, she sipped the soup in frustration and set her spoon down roughly in the metal bowl. Minki seemed to notice something was off and he gently nudged her with his knee from under the table. Casting him a sidelong glance, she tried to play it off like it was nothing and resumed eating – her mind only half there with the boys.

The other part of it was occupied with thoughts of Min Yoongi.

It would be a lie to herself and anyone else if she said she still didn’t still have feelings for him. But there was a part of her that knew it probably wouldn’t last. After all, what would a self-made successful entrepreneur like Min Yoongi want with an orphan auto mechanic like her? He probably came from a good family and he’d even hinted that his parents were simple farmers who had tons of land out in the countryside. He’d merely gone into the business venture side so he could help his family more, so they could live more comfortably.

In other words, he came from the chaebol lifestyle on the rural spectrum.

Eden was only half Korean. Sure, that enabled her to have the same rights as Korean citizens thanks to the F4 visa she applied for when she first arrived in the country. Doing a little research, she was able to find out that her own mother came from a line of nobility. But that’s where all the investigation stopped. Eden didn’t want anything to do with it and she did her best to ignore her curiosity. If she dug up any more info and found out that she was some kind of aegissi to some line and would have to give up her current life, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle it.

So, she left it alone.

Even though Yoongi had grown close to her during those first three years, dating for two of them, Eden knew it would fall apart eventually. He was constantly coming and going from her life while she remained where she was, working and covering herself in oil and grease. She was a literal grease monkey and every time she made him wait so she could clean up before going out while he was always looking dapper, there was a twinge of guilt there. Eden knew that there were better women out there for him – someone that fit his status better than her.

There were moments when she even believed he was mostly amusing himself with her. Eden could have almost been content with that. Almost.

But she refused to feel ashamed of herself every time they went out somewhere. And she didn’t know many of his own personal social circles. Again, he was probably too embarrassed to bring her around. She wasn’t rich and while she finished college, she’d hardly call herself scholarly or an intellectual. If anything, Eden knew what kind of nerd she was, and it certainly wouldn’t have suited the tastes of any of Yoongi’s colleagues.

So when he showed up at her shop the other day after months of not seeing each other, Eden believed that maybe, just maybe, they would try to start over. That he would treat her as more than an impulsive drunken fling. Maybe they could do things differently…

Instead, she was offered friendship and no contact after nearly a week.

Is he jerking me around again? she thought, irritation sparking at her temple.

No sooner had she thought that, her phone lit up and her heart leapt into her throat. As her eyes zeroed in on the screen, however, a different name popped up. Her placid expression transformed into mild annoyance. The “mutt” was being ever persistent.

Petty Mutt: Hey, you busy?

Eden stared at the phone, her hands refusing to move to pick it up. Minki seemed to notice and he peered at the screen, his gaze lifting back up to stare at the side of her face. “You’re not gonna answer?”

She resumed eating as the screen went dark. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m eating.”

Minki snorted. “Right, because eating stops you from playing on your phone.” She could feel his shit-eating grin without even having to look at him. “Doesn’t stop you from playing those otome games.”

Eden aimed a swift kick to his shin and he half yelped; half laughed while leaning down to rub at his leg.

“Don’t talk shit about my otome games,” she snapped, shoveling more rice into her mouth, “Sarutobi Sasuke doesn’t give me any grief like you fuckers do.”

“Psh, yeah right,” Minki said, still laughing, “like that can substitute a real relationship.”

“Real relationships are a joke,” she said while casting him a sidelong glance, “they only end in disappointment. At least if I’m not satisfied with an ending, I can just restart or delete the app completely.”

Her response came out colder than she’d intended. The table grew silent and she set her chopsticks down while the others looked at her cautiously. It wasn’t like relationships were a taboo topic in her circle. In fact, she encouraged it for the others. The last thing she wanted to deal with were lovesick issues while they were at work. If they were happy with their significant others, then that meant they would work hard so they could hurry up and clock out to be with them.

But for her, she just didn’t care for them. All it ever did was end in disappointment, leaving her feeling inadequate.

Her phone lit up again.

Petty Mutt: Fine, don’t answer me. I’ll just stand out here and wait until you come out.

Eden stood up, the legs of her chair scraping loudly along the floor. Everyone else jumped at the sound, clutching their rice bowls to their chests. She hadn’t meant to startle them, but she couldn’t help her seemingly involuntary reaction.

“That little shit,” she muttered, shuffling around the boys and making her way out to the shop.

Crossing the full expanse of the shop, she pressed the button near one of the garage shutters and it rattled to life – lifting slowly. Her eyes shifted to the ground and she could make out a pair of black and white Chucks nestled under the hems of dress pants. She watched the shoes shifting, as if the person were turning, and when the door slid up fully, she was greeted with the cheeky grin of Jeon Jungkook.

He waved to her, his silver rings reflecting off the setting sun just behind a few of the buildings from across the street. Eden folded her arms across her chest, not caring that she probably looked a mess. Her hair was pulled back in a braid that fell across her shoulder, her bright red bandana hiding the rest of her fringe beneath. Her work gloves hung out of one of the pockets of her faded overalls.

Jungkook pivoted on his heels, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he rocked back on the heels of his sneakers. This made her eyes narrow as he continued to beam at her, like he’d just found a mountain of gold or something.

“Why are you here?” Her tone was gruff and completely unwelcoming.

He continued to smile. “Isn’t it almost time for you to clock out?”

Eden’s arms fell to her side and she jammed her thumb into one pocket, resting her weight on her back leg. “And that’s your business how, hm?”

“I wanted to walk you home.”

“You upfront about your stalking now?”

Jungkook pouted and she didn’t know if she was more irritated that he was giving her that expression or that she felt like she’d just kicked a puppy.

“Why you gotta be like that, Eden Noona?”

“Don’t call me that,” she said, stepping out of the shop. She pressed one of the buttons on the clicker in her pocket. The garage door closed behind her. “We’re not close enough for you to address me like that.”

His brows furrowed, a pained expression flitting over his features and her heart twisted inside of her chest. Now she really did feel like she’d just kicked a puppy.

“…sorry.”

Eden looked at his pitiful face and she groaned, turning her head away from him. If she didn’t look at him, maybe she wouldn’t feel bad for what she’d just said. “Forget about it.” She continued to look away from him. “What do you want?”

“I already told you that --”

“I don’t need you to walk me home.” Eden gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m a grown ass woman and can take care of myself just fine.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them before she heard him sigh. “…it’s because I’m a gangpae , isn’t it?” He looked at her and she could feel the weight of his gaze on top of her. “You don’t want to be seen with some punk like me, huh?”

Eden felt a flash of anger explode across her chest. “That’s gotta be the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” she said loudly, “you take me for some kinda judgmental little --”

Her words were cut short when she saw Jungkook advancing toward her. Her eyes widened as he immediately began crowding her personal space, her back pressing against the metal garage door. He shot his arms out, his palms slamming into the door on either side of her head. Eden took a moment to search his face, to see if there was any rage or hostility there. But there was none. She heard a soft scraping sound around her ears and could see his palms curled into fists.

“Then why?” Jungkook wasn’t yelling, but she heard the desperation in his tone. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

A lump was forming in her throat and she was doing her best to swallow it down. She wasn’t sure if there was an answer that she could give him that he’d be satisfied with. Especially since he’d been adamant about chasing her for months now. Eden wasn’t one to judge anyone for their background, considering what her own was. But she didn’t want to get hurt again. She didn't want to take the risk.

Jungkook had been persistent in his attempts to get her attention. She’d give him props for his tenacity. Most men would have given up. Most men had given up. And she honestly didn’t understand what he saw in her that day he brought his motorcycle to be serviced. But ever since then, he’d been in hot pursuit – taking it to new levels she’d never experienced.

Seriously, who would go out of their way to steal a girl’s phone number?

He wasn’t ugly, he had a sweet smile and he was genuinely a nice person. Eden had seen it for herself. What asshole went around helping old ladies with their groceries, or made sure kids didn’t run out in the middle of the street and get hurt? Jungkook even smacked teenagers who were trying to play hooky, even going so far as to drag them back to school by the scruffs of their uniforms.

Him being a gangster had nothing to do with her pushing him away.

Regardless of why he lived the life that he did, why he chose that path, it held no precedence on her keeping him at arms’ length. She just didn’t want to get hurt. Not again. Eden knew what she was worth and knew what circles she didn’t want to be around. She knew that she didn’t want to deal with any bullshit and the last thing she wanted to do was tangle herself (or her heart) in a place where it would be difficult to climb out of. Being stuck between a rock and a hard place? No, she wasn’t about to deal with that shit again.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she replied, her voice softer than earlier, “I wish you’d get that.”

J ungkook leaned in closer, causing her to press the back of her head further into the metal surface. “Well, I don’t.” He continued to look at her with that hurt expression, inadvertently breaking her heart just a little bit. “I don’t get it at all.”

Eden sighed but said nothing. She didn’t know what to say and it wasn’t like she was against the idea of getting to know him better. He was stubborn as her, if not more so.

“Just…just let me walk you home?”

Lifting her eyes to meet his, she saw his gentle smile return even though his brows were furrowed.

“Please?”

The lump in her throat settled just a smidge. All she could do was look at him as he patiently waited for her response. She knew the smart thing to do was tell him to fuck off – to leave her alone and to never show his face in front of her again. It wasn’t like he hadn’t made it clear that he was attracted to her and it would be a lie if she didn’t find it a little flattering.

…oh, goddammit .

“…fine,” Eden muttered, knowing that if she tried to come up with any sort of excuse, she’d flounder under his insistence. “I need to finish up the paperwork for today so just…” She paused, pointing at the ground. “You wait here, you got that?”

Jungkook pushed himself off the door, standing at his full height. He beamed down at her and Eden rolled her eyes before turning away from him to hide the warmth crowning her cheeks.

“Kay!”

She pushed the button on the clicker again, the metal shutters sliding up so she could step back into the shop. When she stepped inside, she slapped the button on the wall to close the shutter back behind her. Eden took about two steps before she was face-to-face with the rest of the boys, all of them clinging to their rice bowls and eyes wide as saucers.

She frowned. Those nosy little shits…

“Get the fuck on!” she bellowed, pointing back to the break room area, “and clean the damn table!”

“Yes Ma’am!” they yelped, scrambling to the back.

Pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead, she sighed. “…why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

#bangtanarmynet #kmultiverse #btswriterscorner #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts mafia au #bts crime au #bts mafia #biasrekkers bts #bts #thebiasrekkers #bts make it right #smutcentralnet

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gaspbrat · 5 years

Text

Senior Hues

part twoes.

ch. 1 pt. 2

Reddie!

Promposal!

Sonia meets Bev!

Sh*t hits the fan!

Stan!

Absolute Fluff with a chef’s kiss of jealous angst.

the shortest of this series, maybe, wc: 2600+

♡

Stanley was amazing at most things:

Observing, Listening, Responding with a gentle harshness.

He was not the best at some other things:

Not telling Eddie to shut the fuck up right now.

“Eddie, listen to me,” he grasped his friend’s shoulders tightly, speaking through gritted teeth, “Richie is an asshat and I can’t understand why the fuck he is so damn important to you. He just dicks around all the time. Dicks with you all the time.”

Eddie begins to retreat from his soap box of anxious paranoia. Stan loosens his grip and his eyes soften.

“But he’s not dicking with you, this time,”

Beautiful strawberry blonde curls danced in the winter evening wind, caressed by the setting sun. Stan would consider this poetic if it didn’t involve the trashmouth, mozying over to the awaiting Melissa. She was tossing her hair and smiling obscenely over her shoulder.

Stan was ever grateful he could always find the best vantage point to watch the birds go at it. He knew meters away Eddie was already attempting to piece together what was unfolding right before his privileged eyes.

“Melissa,” Richie called with a rigid awkwardness, “Your glasses. You left them.”

“Oh! Silly me!” she hesitated over his hand taking her glasses back.

He did not savor the touch.

“Hey, um,” she begins twisting her lip between her teeth as he made a move to escape.

Richie wants to roll his eyes but really doesn’t want to piss her off in uniform on the main street.

“Prom’s coming up and I can’t go unless I go with a senior. Some stupid fuckin’ bet I have with Avery,”

she nods her head over to one of the vultures watching this scene.

“You know what,” Richie feels particularly evil today. He honestly belives half-truth she was giving him. She might actually have a brain in there.

“Yea, I’ll go with you.”

Melissa nearly cries out loud.

“Shit, um, okay! Yea, just,”

He brings up the sharpie in his right hand and asks for her palm. She hands it over. He scrawls some numbers between the three lines.

“Call me.” he turns with a wink back to the arcade, sauntering back to work.

Leaving Melissa to squeal with her posse moments later.

Stan scoffs before kicking his bike off and finding his friend.

“He is absolutely fucking with your whole heart right now, dude.”

Eddie’s jaw hangs open while his heart droops further.

“Stan, what the fuck, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” He croaked out, suddnely defensive of his other friend.

“I saw him write his number on her hand after you bolted in gay panic.”

He wasn’t sure whether to dignify Stan’s offhanded insult with a response or be discouraged by the thought of Richie going with someone else.

Stan watched a piece of Eddie’s heart fall to the floor and he wondered if he really made the right choice.

“Look,” he started backpedaling,“He could have just given her a fake number-”

“Why on the fucking earth would he go and do all that extra shit?”

“I don’t fucking know? You know him as good if not better than me!”

“Clearly I don’t.” Eddie’s tone hushed. He turned away from Stan, plunging himself into thought.

“Hey, Eddie, come on. Don’t go there.”

“Where else can I go, you DROVE me here?”

“We biked.”

“Not the point! Really?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

Silence settled over Stan’s room as they hoth contemplated the true facts.

Stan’s eyes don’t lie. Eddie knows to trust him more than he trusts the others. He isn’t super sure about all this, though.

He assumes only time will really tell.

The next few months were spent in an unfortunate game of tug-o-war between Eds and Rich. They would only be around the losers if for sure the other would not be present. In the absolute worst case scenario they both end up sitting at the same table for a brief second before realizing they were at odds.

Richie was afraid to say anything to Eddie and Eddie was frustrated by his presence. They both feared the uncertainty the other brought with them.

Valentine’s day came and went.

Both Richie and Eddie called in sick that day. If their friends had no idea of the circumstances they would call them lovesick. One of them was working and the other was distracting himself. They both shared in longing, that much was obvious.

Saint Patrick’s Day yielded Eddie in no green claiming he forgot the holiday. Everyone had a field day. Richie snuck a pinch in while they passed in the hallway. It would have worked if he had been a few inches shorter.

Eddie spotted him instantly and bolted after him only to lose him at the main hallway.

After what felt like an eternity to everyone involved, April came. It brought the feeling of spring and budding young misguided romance.

Also, promposals.

Ben asked Beverly right before April fool’s just to make sure she couldn’t prank him instead.

Stan and Mike just started declining every offer, fake or otherwise, making sure to give each other a glance after each attempt.

Bill fixed his sights on one of Melissa’s friends, Avery Ann, whom enjoyed all of the short stories he told in his advanced literature class.

Richie gagging upon hearing Bill recant the tale of his proposal and nearly fainted at the thought of double dating with BILL AND all that noise.

Eddie had been avoiding their lunch table for a few weeks straight at this point and his sudden presence that Wednesday afternoon caught everyone (Richie) off guard.

“Woah! Hey short stack! Where’d you come from?”

“Bio, what’s it to you?” he set his bag down and squeezed in opposite his current rival.

“Nothing, I was just wondering.” Richie returned to his passive silence as per late usual.

Eddie saved the expression he was given for future reference.

“What’s new, Eddie? I feel like I haven’t see you in a week now!” Mike questioned with his warm and welcome tone to break a part of the tension.

“Nothing too crazy. Just some weird shit.”

They all stopped grazing to stare at him with expectance.

“What weird shit?” Beverly asked.

“Fuckin’ Melissa called my house twice.”

Richie froze. Everyone else held their breath.

Stan leaned back in his seat knowing all too well the screaming match to follow. He glanced at Rich to assess his mood and noticed the color had vanished from his cheeks.

“Asking for YOU both times!” he was standing, accusing the pile of messy black hair across from him, pupils darting away from eye contact.

“My mom nearly crucified me, asshole! What the fuck?!”

Richie kept his gaze on the juice box at the center of the table. He wondered whose it was. Maybe he could have a sip.

“HELLO?! Earth to shithead!” Eddie was getting loud. He knew it. He recognized his level of rage but at this moment nothing mattered but making a fool of him in front of the others. Proof he wasn’t jumping to conclusions.

He was, though, he learned from Stan.

“Why the fuck did you have your girlfriend call my home phone? Twice?!” he was shrill now.

Richie could not believe his ears.

“Wait what?”

“Did you guys fuckin’ prank call me after you got done making out or what!?”

Richie could feel this only getting worse so he got up from the bench.

“Hey, what wher-”

Eddie was cut off by a rough ‘let’s go’, led out of the cafeteria by Richie’s grasp.

This needed to be settled somewhere immediately.

Eddie expected to be escorted to Gretchen but his heart ached when Richie’s didn’t slow at the parking lot.

They kept walking in uncomfortable silence for a good three blocks before Eddie stopped, flabbergasted.

“Wait, what the fuck, where in the shit are we going?”

“Just follow me.”

He begrudgingly pursued with a groan.

They ended their journey at the local mechanic.

“You need a tune up, Eds?”

The smaller boy responded with a fury in his gaze, “No.”

“Gretchen did,. . does.”

He released the breath he held captive in his chest.

Eddie was silent behind him for a moment before squeaking out, “I thought you were getting rid of her.” he had not called her anything besides 'it’ until now.

“I was yea,” he rubbed his forehead with the back of his arm, “I wanted to surprise you for pr-” he cut himself off.

“Prom?”

Richie hissed. It was all in the open now, sort of.

“Yea, Eddie, I didn’t want to take you without her.” Richie slapped his forehead with the realization he could not lie to his closest friend.

“What do you mean? I thought you asked Melissa.” he sheepishly trailed off and toed the crack in the sidewalk. After finally looking back up to meet his taller friend’s gaze he noticed Richie had disappeared.

“In here, Eds.” he heard a voice call him from around a corner, leading into the shop.

Eddie followed the voice to find Richie, kneeling, holding a small bouquet of tickets taped to look like daisies.

“Would you,”

Eddie’s blood was fickle sometimes. Running to all these body parts for no reason. This was one of those times. His face burned with the amount of red he was probably sporting.

“Edward Gaspbrat,” Rich croaked out from his awkward seat on Gretchie’s hood, a smirk peeking through his words.

Eddie’s eyes saw his brain for a good three seconds giving his boy friend the eye roll of the century. It gave him enough reprieve to recirculate his blood flow from his cheeks back to where it belonged.

“..Bemydatetoprom?” Richie sputtered out in almost a whisper.

They both paused, watching each other for a minute. Crickets chimed in almost on cue.

Eddie did the sizing up.

“Are- Are you asking me to prom? Rich, don’t fuck with me,” the younger boy stuck his finger out at the other, instinctively scolding him even now. In this moment.

Richie could not believe his eyes.

“Maybe… yes. I am.”

He shrugged but his choice was concrete. The flustered little man before him made sure. “so, please?”

Eddie took a good four seconds to respond. Richie took this time to assess how good they would look in matching suits and ties in front if all those fucking twats. Melissa included. Melissa especially.

“Of course?“

The effect of gravity seemed to have left Eddie and he started to freak before he realized it was Richie picking him up into a gangly bear hug.

“OkayOkay! Put me down!” he started to squirm, “You’ll crush my snickers!”

Richie finally listened when he heard the word snickers.

“You have snickers? Hidden in those tiny things?”

He pointed to Eddie’s pair of very short jogging shorts he would always wear but never jog in. After four years you’d think someone would change style but no.

Richie then took a second to remind himself he was currently wearing an open tommy bahama shirt before criticizing Eddie further.

“I don’t dummy.” he quickly readjusted his fanny pack to his right hip. “I keep them in here.”

He pulled two snickers bars from it.

“Was this,” Richie takes a snicker and turns it over just to be extra sure that : yep it’s a snickers, “a reward or some bullshit? Did you know I was gonna ask you?”

Eddie started to look upset and opened his mouth for a reply.

“No I-”

“You little shit, you wanted me to look like an asshole in front of the losers and ask you and this was, what? Your gift in return? What the fuck?”

“Dickie! Shut. The Fuck. Up!” he screeched. “They were for you. For us? Like a bribe or some shit when I-” Eddie realized his train of thought was derailing so he cut himself off. His gut turned, however, when he saw the twinkle in those deep brown, enlarged eyes.

“When you what?”

Shit.

“Uh.. Nothing. Just, saw you. And I did, so… Just eat it.”

“No, no, I want to know what you saved these for. These are the special ones your mom hides in her table next to that dil-”

“Beep, fucking, BE E P!” Richie fell shut his mouth tight.

“I-I wanted to go to that hill we went to in eighth grade after I was gone for two weeks, right before spring break.”

“Oh shit, I remember! I kissed your cheek and you slapped the fuck out of me.”

“Bill was right there you fuckin-” he closed his eyes and sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That was the last time I felt happy, for a long time. My mom went apeshit the next morning about me being out so late right after being in the hospital.”

“I was going to ask you to prom and these were a bribe since I thought you were into Melissa.” he hissed through the ‘ss’.

“You thought I’d need a snickers to pick you over that?”

“I didn’t know what the fuck you were gonna do! I did what I could to prepar-” he was cut off by Richie’s mouth. He instinctively jumped but then succeeded into his touch.

Richie pulled away right as Eddie’s kissed him back.

“Eds, sometimes you just need to sit back and relax, daddy’s got you.” he patted the other boys back a little too heavy handed before leaning in to kiss him again.

When he regained his balance Eddie put his pointer finger to the other’s lips, preparing to scold him.

“First of all: Eddie, second: don’t eVER call yourself that or we aren’t going.” he waved his finger at him while withdrew it from his mouth.

“Fine, but after prom I can say what I want?”

“We’ll see how prom goes first, bubba.” Eddie noticed Richie start to open his mouth and figured there was really only one way for them to shut each other up.

Richie would be lying if he said he hadn’t figured that out seconds before Eddie.

I’ll never be quiet again.

He thought as Eddie kissed him senseless.

Saturday came quicker than he had expected.

Eddie hit the button on his alarm clock and stopwatch before groaning and throwing the covers over his head.

Prom is in 12 hours… Get fuckin’ ready.

He went through his daily morning routine swiftly but reluctantly. Beverly would be at his door in less than an hour and he hadn’t even had breakfast yet.

“Eddie-bear! Breakfast!”

He fist pumped for the amazing timing; ignoring the childish nickname it accompanied.

“Coming!”

Maroon Stacked Doc Martens skipped up the steps towards Eddie’s house, stopping on the austere “welcome” mat.

Not super welcoming.

She rapped on the door.

Mrs. Kaspbrak sighed at the interruption and made her way towards the culprit.

She looked through the peephole which just showed her empty porch. She assumed it was some dumb ding dong ditcher and returned to the living room before hearing another knock on the mahogany.

Fed up, she unlocked the door to figure out who was behind this disturbance.

She came face to face with none other than the she devil herself, Beverly Marsh. That dirty-

“Hi Mrs. Kaspbrak,” she said cheerily.

“What do you want with my son?” her eyes seared through Beverly’s.

“He wanted me to help him go prom shopping this afternoon I’m here to take hi-”

“Hi Beverly, sorry to keep you waiting,” the man in question popped out from behind the doorway to their kitchen.

“Hey Eddie.” Beverly smiled with pain in her eyes.

“Well bye mom, gotta go seeyoulaterloveyoubye!” Eddie shoved past his mom and followed Beverly down the steps to her car.

“Did my mom say anything too awful?” he asked after they were in the car.

“Nah, she didn’t have time.” she laughed into the back of her hand, other resting on the wheel.

"Okay.” Eddie sighed, shaking like a branch in the spring wind, “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

*Cue prom shopping montage*

Thaks for reading!! 💖

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it #it 2017 #it fanfiction #hardly any of this is canon #two yr old draft again #reviving my dead content #gaspbrat #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #stanley uris #bill denbrough #fics

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nebula-starlight · 6 years

Text

Corrupt (Part 2 - Split)

He jolted awake with a start, brown eyes wide in fear as he trembled slightly, panting for breath. Clammy fingers clutched at the warm woolen blanket stretched over him, rubbing small circles into the dense fabric as if to chase away the nightmare. And yet the memory of flames trailing up along his back was already retreating into the blended subconscious he shared with the demon entity that lurked within his mind. He sighed, calmer now than he had been upon his initial waking… only to hear the noise of footsteps coming from down the hall and he hung his head in shame. No doubt it was one of those that left him screaming, likely jostled awake by his own thrashing. To make it worse, the dream wasn’t even his. No, he’d inherited his fair share of horrible images from that dark spirit the very minute they bonded.

Clearing his throat with a low cough, Geer straightened up as a light in the next room over to his switched on. Considering he had crashed on the couch - again - his host had probably been woken by his screaming. True to the thought, he spotted a single strand of green hair pass by the open doorway into the kitchen before the man who allowed him to stay entered the den carrying two mugs.

He could immediately tell that Seán, or better known to his community as Jacksepticeye, hadn’t gotten much sleep either as he paused midway to the couch to lightly rub at his eye. Sliding over to offer the man some room, Geer took the offered cup and glanced down into its dark contents in confusion. What exactly was he going to be drinking? In his previous form, any sort of mead had often left him with a hangover for several days afterwards no matter how little he drank. Then again, his darker half had expressed a firm dislike of anything that would offset their mental balance out of fear it would disrupt the pristine reputation he tried to give off.

The thought alone made him chuckle, his laughter fading away as Seán sat down beside him and took a sip of his own beverage. “I know the last few days haven’t been easy as you’ve adjusted to this but… Tell me about yourself.”

Oh, that. He never really had explained much had he? “Well… What did you want to know?”

“How there ended up being two of you.” The Irish Youtuber calmly took another sip, motioning for him to enjoy the drink while it was still warm. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your eyes change color on occasion to a very vibrant crimson.”

Geer sighed, raising the mug to breath in the steam coming from the liquid within. The aroma smelled nice but he wondered if it actually tasted good. “About that… Yeah, I have a bit of a split soul if you can call it that. See this dead spirit kinda sought me out and bonded its essence to mine…” He paused, glancing over at Seán who watched him eagerly between sips of his beverage. “Honestly I suck at explaining this. Nether does such a better job, especially since he lived through it firsthand.”

“How does it work exactly? Does he just take control whenever he wants?”

A peal of laugher escaped him before he could stop himself, hearing faintly an echoed chuckle of amusement from the dark spirit. “Not exactly like that. Usually he… he asks for permission.”

The response seemed to stall their conversation, both men staring down at their respective mugs. Geer lowered his, resting the warm cup in the palm of one hand while his other fluffed up the small patch of blue hair he had in a similar style to Seán’s iconic green. It had been entirely accidental that his former scale color as a dragon had somehow transferred over into his hair but he enjoyed seeing the reminder of who he used to be.

/Geer, a moment if you would./ The soft rasp he’d come to associate with Nether’s voice rumbled through his mind as the silence continued to drag on.

/Of course, Nether. Let me guess… You want to speak to Seán? To clarify what I admittedly am not good at telling?/

The demon hummed in quiet admittance, the sound lingering with a persistent echo. /You allow it then?/

Geer chose not to respond, instead closing his eyes and letting the darker half of his being assume control. He was used to the feeling that came with their switch. How it felt as though his soul was pulled in two different directions before the numbness of his mindscape enfolded him.

———————————————-

Nether was mildly surprised that Seán wasn’t overly concerned upon his emergence, his crimson aura pulsing slightly as he breathed out a tensed sigh. Even after all those times of switching control with his host the lingering pain in his chest still bothered him whenever he took over. Glancing at the human beside him, his eyes narrowed at the faint crackle of static he heard but soon paid it no attention as his attention shifted to the cup he strangely enough had not spilled.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Seán.” He muttered softly, lifting the still warm beverage to his lips as he took a sip. Almost instantly he gagged, spitting out the vile liquid as distant but painful memories darted across his mind of her and how he was responsible for what she had become.

Apologizing for his reaction, he set the cup down on the floor and dabbed at his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. Geer wouldn’t be happy about him soiling perfectly good clothing once he regained consciousness but no matter.

“Not a fan of coffee I see,” Seán chuckled, earning himself a furious glare from the dark entity as Nether cleared his throat and tried to ignore the offending cup beside what was originally the bed of his host.

“You wanted answers, right?” He snarled softly, irises blazing with a hellish amber glow as his aura briefly manifested before fading away once he composed himself. “I will only say this once so listen up! This tale isn’t for the faint of heart, boy. My soul… if you wish to call it that, is far more than just the fractured half of some lovesick spirit. But perhaps I should offer you a proper name first before I delve too deep.”

“That would be a good start.” The Irishman nodded, setting aside his own cup. “Geer did say your name was Nether though before you… took control.”

“Ah, rather helpful of him… for once. To clarify, however, the proper term for our change of control is switching. Imagine it like a… On second thought, let’s move on.” Again he heard the static, the noise buzzing deep in his skull as if it searched for a place to inhabit. He scoffed at the very thought, deciding to change the subject.

“So you’re a spirit then?” Nether nodded at the inquiry, pulling his knees up to his chest as he tried to shove down the haunting reminders of what he’d done to his beloved Versi.

“Consider my original form something similar to a wyvern in your world. My wings extended from my forelegs as pure blades of magic…” His voice cracked on the word, the memories too strong to force away as he often would when he was confronted by them. Composing himself, he cleared his throat and continued, “A spirit’s bond to another would join the two, each sharing half of their innermost core in a beautiful ceremony performed in the heart of the Realms. I was lucky enough to have known my Versi for years, grown up beside her even and yet I failed her in every way when she needed me the most.”

Seán leaned forward, expression somber as he recognized how difficult it must have been for Nether to admit such personal information to someone he barely even knew. “What happened to her? You obviously cared deeply for this… being you loved.”

A mirthless chuckle escaped the dark spirit at the human’s omission of his beloved’s name. Yes, he supposed it wasn’t the easiest to utter given the Youtuber’s accent. Had he not purposely hidden the knowledge from Geer he suspected his host would also have problems with the pronunciation.

“Our peaceful world was… corrupted for lack of a better word. Inky shades began to infect the pure creatures and I, as a defender of peace, was called out to fight back against this unnatural plague. It was only when I was halfway across our realm that I received the news - my beloved had been tainted.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his nails dug painfully across his scalp. Geer would have a field day with his less than polite behavior later but right now the action helped to ease the sting of reliving the memories to come.

“You didn’t feel it? You said you two joined souls… or something along those lines. Surely her corruption would have echoed across that link.” He brought his gaze up, silently studying the Irishman’s bright blue eyes as he listened to the determination he heard.

If only he had known… Maybe he wouldn’t have done the very thing he regretted to his fractured core. “I was acting on emotion at the time, not thinking rationally as I should have. By the time I returned she had already killed several innocents and it became my responsibility to stop her. I spent weeks chasing her, never really allowing myself to dwell on what would happen. No spirit had ever destroyed half their soul before and yet there I was…” Another humorless laugh left him as he untangled his hand from his hair, bringing it back to rest on his knees.

“When I finally caught her, it was protocol to strip a deserter’s wings. Think of it much like rendering a bird flightless except it would also severely impact their magic - provided they had any left. My horrid task done, I turned to leave when she jumped me and I… I…” A tremor shook his frame, his arms tightening around his knees as he bit back the urge to let his unstable core split apart. Surely having to slam his innermost being back together would be more painful than having to explain what had happened.

His silence was broken when a gentle hand came down on his shoulder, the action causing him to release the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Nether refused to look at Seán, knowing full well that he had forgotten he was no longer alone on the couch while wrestling with the horrors of his past.

“You don’t have to continue, you know. What you’ve said so far makes it pretty clear something went very wrong.”

Jerking away from the touch, Nether stood and begun to pace, his aura flickering wildly around him as he clasped his hands behind his back. “I lashed out when she jumped me, tore her throat wide open before I realized it. The monster she is now is all because I couldn’t let things go. You see, Seán, when a spirit is corrupted their soul cracks. No longer is it the pure beacon of light it was meant to be but, instead, now it flickers like a dying ember. I fled from her after the… incident, hiding away in some cave while my grief over her death slowly turned to rage at the darkness that had fallen over us. As I mentioned earlier, I had half of her soul… a soul that was now twisted and corrupt. My best guess is that its poison spread to mine as well. Of course now I struggle to keep the two halves together. It’s far from a pleasant experience shoving the two broken shards back into place every so often.”

Seán’s expression darkened for a moment before he stood as well, walking over to Nether who was nearly quivering. He knew the Irishman couldn’t see it but tiny slivers of reality trembled near him in response to his anger, flickering much the same way as a glitch would appear on a screen. He had to calm down before he made things worse but all he could see was the brief moment of clarity in her eyes right after he’d sliced open her neck.

“Nether, what is her name? If she appeared when you did then…”

He tried to fight the instinctual response… He really did but failed as a low growl rippled up from his throat, the reality distortion worsening until even Seán took notice and stepped back. No matter how well he tried to act like a true gentleman something always lured the monster within out of hiding.

“Do not imply we are anything alike, boy! Void is an unpredictable sociopath who takes extreme delight in torturing her victims. Should you ever cross her… well you’d better start running.” His eyes narrowed, allowing small strands of crimson mist to be more visibly seen as his hands twitching behind his back. Without a word, he turned to face the Youtuber, reality distorting even further around his form as his aura continued to flicker sporadically.

Realizing he had gone too far, Nether sighed, reigning himself back in. “Forgive me… I tend to get worked up when her name is mentioned. Consider it a lasting echo of our bond I guess.” He looked away, glancing mindlessly in the direction of the kitchen. “Go get some sleep, Seán. After all, Hollow’s Eve is in a few hours and, if I remember correctly, you said you wanted to carve that… pumpkin thing on camera. Don’t let my rambling keep you up then.”

He expected to have to argue - especially given how often Geer fought with him on simple matters. Much to his surprise, though, the Irishman seemed to agree as he collected the two mugs from the floor and started towards the kitchen. Nether couldn’t help but watch the Youtuber’s movements, hearing once more the soft hiss of static as a faint chuckle echoed in his ear. The noise sounded familiar… far too familiar to that of Void.

Just what exactly had he gotten himself into this time?

And furthermore, what demons awaited them come the next day…

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #corrupt nether #corrupt

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