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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5,167 (Y'all gettin fed today)

Chapter Seven: Pretty Handsome Awkward

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

August 27. 5:31pm.

“What are you doing, Y/N? I was calling you,” My heart sinks in my chest at the sound of his grating voice. Really? He had to do this now? Gage turns back and walks up, then pushes past me to face John. I let it happen, and just stared off into the sky. I feel myself grow numb. Why did Gage do all this? I turn to look at them, and I feel the distance between me and him grow, ever so slightly.

“Hi, I’m Gage.” He offers a hand out to him. Such a gentleman for someone so fucking disgusting. John eyes him, looking him up and down before taking his hand. He hasn’t washed his own in over a year. “Y/N’s dad. Who is this? You never mentioned a new friend, Y/N.” He looks over at me and I feel so small again. Just like I did the first few years after he started his torturous abuse. “Sorry, it just slipped my mind, I guess.” A lie. I did end up telling him about Gage, but just as I thought, he forgot all about him 10 minutes later. John glares at me, and I know that if he even remembers this when we go inside, he’ll scream at me.

Gage glares at me too, and I feel myself shrink even more. “Well, do you wanna come inside?” As soon as John finishes asking, I feel myself jump slightly. “No, that’s not a great ide-” “Sure. I don’t see a reason why I shouldn’t,” Gage totally disregards what I was beginning to say. He doesn’t spare me another glance before he lets John lead him inside.

I feel that weird choking feeling that happens before you cry, so I walk a distance behind them. Hopefully they won’t feel the need to talk to me. I feel suddenly so self conscious of the condition the house is in. It’s not entirely my fault, but I feel guilty nonetheless. I pay close attention to Gage as his eyes fall over every piece of trash or broken, unclean furniture, and the permanently stained walls from the cigarettes John smokes. I have to look at my shoes, which are not much better looking than the house. “Oh,” I hear him whisper, and I feel the tears pricking at my eyes. I blink them away before they can fall down my cheeks. “Ah, sorry about this. Y/N doesn’t like to clean, even though I try my hardest to get him to!” He laughs, and I bite down on my lip as hard as I can. He always makes it seem as if I’m at fault for everything.

I can feel Gage’s stare, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I don’t want to see the disgust in his jade eyes, then feel worse than I already do. “It’s fine. Can I see your room, Y/N?” I look up, finally meeting his eyes. I gulp, hoping not to sound as if I’m about to break down. “Yeah, I guess.” I don’t wait for him, walking down the hallway at my own pace. Luckily, I can only hear one pair of footsteps. I guess John will leave me with Gage, which I might not have minded if he came here when I wanted him to; but I can feel my stomach flip and turn all kinds of ways. It reminds me of the feeling you get when you’re climbing up and up on a rollercoaster, about to drop. I feel as if I could drop any second, too.

I open the door to reveal my room, not nearly as messy as the rest of the house, but still dirty enough for me to add that to the list of things to feel insecure about. I let out a shaky sigh, and hope Gage doesn’t catch onto how I’m feeling. I wonder if he’d even care. I hear the door shut, and then lock. God, why is he locking it?

I sat down on the bed, my eyes focused on the multicolored blanket I got from the thrift store. If it were someone else, someone more like me- poor, I can admit that- maybe I’d feel comfortable with another person in my room, but Gage is rich, he doesn’t know anything about what I have to live like. He sits down in front of me, so I’m forced to look up at him. Instead of scrutiny in his stare, I only find those kind eyes of his. And yet, I can’t seem to trust them the same way I would have before.

“I didn’t know you..” He huffs and presses his lips together, as if he were trying to figure out the right words to say. “Were poor? Yeah, well I’m glad it wasn’t obvious,” I snapped. I couldn’t help but feel so upset with him. He’s pushed so many of my boundaries in this past hour, and it’s difficult for me to just let that go. His expression changes, twisting into one of pity. At least, I think that’s what it is. Either way, I don’t like it. “Don’t look at me like that, Gage. Seriously, what the hell did you think it’d be like? Did you think I was doing something to my dad?” I roll my eyes, exasperated.

Gage frowns. “I don’t know, Y/N. I just thought it was weird. I mean, you wouldn’t let me come inside, and you told me that you ignore all of your dad’s messages and calls. What else was I supposed to think?” I grit my teeth. “Nothing! You were supposed to think nothing of it, Gage! Why else would I ignore my dad, huh? Do you think I hate him without a reason to? God, do you really think that little of me?” I stand up and start pacing around the room. I need to calm down. I hear the sound of the springs in the bed sigh as he gets up and walks over to me. I turn away from him, but he wraps his hand around my wrist. I glare at him. “Y/N, no. Look, I don’t know what I thought, okay?” His voice takes on a pleading tone, and his expression is one I can’t read. I pull my arm away, holding eye contact with him.

There’s a knock on the door, and it makes me suddenly conscious of how loud I was. “Y/N? Is there someone in there with you?” I feel the heat rise in my face. Oh no, no no. “Is it Xander? I didn’t know you were having a sleepover. You didn’t tell me anything about that.” I don’t glance at Gage; I don’t want to see his expression. See how much he doesn’t like this, because I’m sure he doesn’t. God, why did Gage have to come inside?

The only person who knows about John’s dementia besides me is Xander, because he’s been my friend long enough to watch his memory deteriorate alongside me. I don’t tell people about it, because they don’t need to know. I don’t want people to fucking know. And now, Gage is going to have to know because he’s going to ask questions, whether he knows the answer to them already or not.

“No, Gage is here.” I try to sound firm, but my voice wavers, making me sound dejected. I’m not sad that he doesn’t remember anymore, I’m just miserable because I have to deal with it. I can feel Gage stare, but I don’t look back at him. There’s a few seconds of silence behind the door, before John’s voice picks up again. “Who’s Gage?” I glance at him as soon as those words leave John’s mouth. He’s covering his mouth the way he usually does when I make him flustered, and I can read his feelings easily with the way his eyes water. I look at him, confused. Why would he cry? He’s not the one who has to deal with John. “Friend I made from school.”

A few seconds later, he responds with “Oh, okay then.” His footsteps trail away from the door until I can’t hear them. There’s a deafening silence in the room, but we keep looking at each other expectantly. I sigh, then let my gaze drop to the ground. “I’m sorry for yelling at you..” I whisper. I let the tears slip down my face, because there’s no point in stopping it at this point. Gage’s arms are around me in a second, and I’m stiff at first. I never let myself break down in front of people, because I do just fine by myself- if just fine means sobbing until my face goes numb and resorting to unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“No, no. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He mutters into my hair, and I rest my head on his. His hands move up and down my back, as a means to comfort me. I hesitate in his arms. I’m not used to being comforted, I only ever do that for other people, not the other way around. I chew on my lip, and pull out of his warm embrace. I look at the wall, littered with random posters and cutouts of pictures of band members. I sniffle. Pathetic. “I think you should leave,” I murmur, my voice all wispy sounding. His hand gently pets my head for a second, then retreats. “Okay,” he whispers back. I peer back at the door after I hear it shut. I lock it back before John can come ask me more questions I don’t want to answer.

August 28. 8:34am.

I slump down in my chair and rest my head in my arms, folded on the desk. I didn’t get any sleep last night. I cried for most of it, then tossed and turned for a few hours. I think I fell asleep sometime around 3. Luckily I did today’s work yesterday, so I basically have a free period. As everyone around me talks and laughs, I try to sleep, but it doesn't work, as I never can really get comfortable enough to sleep in school. Someone taps me on the shoulder a few times, and I look up sleepily. “Huh?” I ask, squinting at Lily as she smiles politely at me. “Hey, sorry for bothering you. Why are you so tired?” She takes the empty seat next to me.

I shrug. “I just didn’t get good enough sleep, I guess.” I yawn as I rub my eyes. She nods. “I get that. Then I guess you won’t wanna come with me to the mall after school today, huh?” She bats her eyelashes at me. I think for a second, processing what she asked. “Uh, yeah, no. Sorry, I’m just really looking forward to a nap after I get home.” She sighs, then bites her lip. “Thought so. Tomorrow?”

Damn, she really is persistent with this... “Yeah, sure,” I respond, then lay my head back down on the table. She pats my head, before I hear her chair squeak against the floor, signifying that she’s left. Before I succumb to the misty state of mind between awake and asleep, I wonder, just for a second, about Lily. It sure seems like she might have a crush on me, but I don’t think I care enough to think too much about that right now. I’ll figure that out later. I let out a deep breath before closing my eyes.

For the next couple of periods before lunch, I manage to finish my work quickly, so I get some rest time in each class. I never actually sleep, of course, but it’s better than nothing. I feel better than I did this morning, that’s for sure. As I walk into the cafeteria, I look over at the table Gage and I usually sit at. He’s not there. I frown. Did he really not show up today? I sent him a message before I went to bed last night, telling him that I wouldn’t need a ride for today. Guess he took that as his chance to not even show up.

If he had other friends, I’d ask them about it, but he doesn’t really talk to anyone here but me. Wait, I never thought about that before. That’s kinda weird. Well, I guess I don’t have that many friends either, though. I wonder why he didn’t show. Was it because of me? Ugh, of course you find an excuse to think it has to do with you, Y/N. Not everything revolves around you. I internally groan at the pessimistic thought.

I scan the room, looking for any table I could possibly sit at. Lily and Stacy sit at a table in the back with a few other people that I don’t know. There’s too many strangers there for me to feel comfortable sitting with Lily and Stace. I think it’s best I don’t sit next to Lily anyways. Xander is definitely a no, though I wouldn’t have to deal with those fangirls anymore. Ever since he came back, he’s told them to calm down I guess, because they don’t practically drool over him anymore. I sigh at the thought of sitting alone today. I got used to talking during lunch.

I almost trip as someone taller than me pushes past me. “Hey!” I exclaim before registering who it is. They turn around, and I’m met with Jeff’s familiar masked face. “Oh, it’s just you.” I blink at him, a little confused. I’ve never really seen him in here before, so I always assumed he skipped or ate lunch somewhere else. He rolls his eyes before turning to leave. “Wait! Can I eat lunch with you?” I ask and I feel my face burn as the words leave my mouth. That’s such an embarrassing thing to ask. His eyebrows knit together, and he stares at me for a second before letting out a deep, elongated breath. “Fine.” I smile. “Thanks.”

He leads the way to a table in the furthest corner, and it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in weeks. I guess the janitors just don’t bother with it. He sits down and I take a seat beside him. I watch as he takes out a notebook, writing down in it roughly; with his fingers pressing the pen too hard on the paper. I lean in closer to see what it is, but he tilts the notebook the other way. He glares at me. “Sorry, jeez.” I mutter, looking away.

I take out my small lunch, which consists of a water bottle, a chocolate chip muffin, and a lunchable; the nachos, ‘cause that one is by far the best. I eat silently and after a few minutes, my eyes drift back over to Jeff. He’s still writing, his eyes squinting at the paper as if his own writing has somehow offended him. My lips perk up at the sides slightly, and I can’t help but think how peaceful he looks like this. He looks kind of..content. Happy isn’t the word that would describe it, but he doesn’t look like he’s angry, which is how he usually looks. I tilt my head slightly, infatuated by him. He’s always been kinda pretty, hasn’t he?

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He asks suddenly, though his eyes never meet mine. My face heats up, and I look back down at my half eaten muffin. “I don’t know. Sorry,” I murmur before eating more. A page of lined paper is slid in front of me, and I squint at it. I feel the heat grow in my face and I have to stop myself from covering it. He drew me. It’s not detailed or anything, but it’s definitely me. Why did he do that? I look back at him, and meet his eyes. His icy blues blink at me. I can’t read his expression, but he’s still not mad. That emotion of his is always easy to see. “You drew me?” I ask, and I bite my lip. Why does my voice have to reflect my anxiousness every time?

“Duh. What else does it look like, dumbass?” He rolls his eyes as he taps his pen on the table. I huff and my eyebrows furrowed. “Well, yeah. But why?” He stares at me for a while, and I feel oddly insecure under his inspecting gaze. I watch him contemplate his answer, his eyebrows knitting together. “You drew me,” He grumbled. I raise an eyebrow. “Is this a way to, what, get back at me?” I gawk at him. Did he seriously draw me because he’s still worked up over that drawing I made two weeks ago?

He rolls his eyes again and it makes me more frustrated. He seemed to hesitate before he began to speak. “Yeah, cause that was dumb. You’re fucking dumb.” He looks away, back down at the paper he took out of his folder. He starts scribbling down in it, and I look back at the drawing. I don’t believe for a second that he drew me because he’s angry.

“Oh and don’t look at me like that again.” He catches my attention once more. “Like what? You keep saying “like that”, like what?” I persisted. The sound of my racing heartbeat fills my ears. He meets my gaze for a second. My cheeks burn, and I almost scoff at what he says. “Like you like me or something.” I can hear the smirk in his voice, so I think he’s just messing with me. Key word think. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” His eyes drop to the paper as he continues to write.

I frown. “No. He’s not my boyfriend.” I don’t think he will be either. At this rate, I might stop dating him soon. He lost my trust in just less than an hour yesterday, and it’s been eating away at me all last night; and so far all of today too. I don’t know what happened. Was he always so pushy? Was I at fault for his behavior? I just can’t wrap my head around why he acted the way he did so suddenly.

I have to remember that I’ve only known him for three weeks, which really isn’t enough. But for those two- almost three weeks- he acted so…nice…perfect. Too perfect maybe? I chew on my lip absentmindedly, nearly forgetting the boy sitting beside me. “You sure act like boyfriends,” Jeff grumbled, and my focus is on him again. I raise an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I voice my thoughts aloud. Why is he acting all weird about it anyways?

“Please. You’re practically shouting ‘I sleep with this guy!’ with the way you’re always all over each other,” He rolls his eyes. I squint my eyes at him, even though he’s not looking at me to be able to see it. “That’s a bit much. Why do you care anyways?” I counter. Am I all over him? I try to think back to the previous week, but the only PDA we do is hold hands or the occasional hug. Is he…

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Jeffrey.” I respond smugly. His eyes flash to mine in a second and his calm expression vanishes. “No- what the fuck- I’m not-” He stammers and I laugh. “Really not helping your case.” I smile as his eyes wrinkle. “Why the hell would I be jealous? Your little boy toy isn’t even close to my type.” He finds his voice, and I raise an eyebrow in response. “But am I your type?” His eyes pierce into mine, and he’s silent for a minute. I feel my face heat up with each second that passes. Am I?

“No. I’m going to class.” He swiftly picks up his papers and file, then practically runs to the other side of the cafeteria. I frown as I watch him walk out. Did he do that on purpose? I chew on my lip. Why do I feel kind of…disappointed, knowing I’m not his type? I shake my head. I don’t need validation from someone like Jeff.

3:19pm.

I flop down on the bed as soon as I get home. I still feel so emotionally drained from last night and I desperately need a nap. My bed practically called to me ever since I walked in the door. I sigh and throw the blankets over me. I don’t even care enough to change.

For the next hour or so, I toss and turn this way and that. I just couldn’t fucking fall asleep. I groan, giving up. I sit up and rub my tired eyes. I was thinking way too much. Overthinking about Gage mostly, but also straying to thoughts of Jeff and even Xander. I had turned my phone on silent before attempting and failing to nap, so when I turned it on, I had a few messages. My stomach churns and I suddenly feel sick.

3:48pm.

Gage: Hey. Can we talk? It’s important.

4:02pm.

Gage: Y/N?

Gage: Guess you’re busy. Talk to you later then.

I chew on my lip, but it’s pointless as the skin hasn’t had time to heal. I sit up and toss the blankets aside, gazing down at the screen. So he doesn’t come to school and doesn’t even respond to my message last night, and now he wants to fucking talk? What could he possibly want to talk to me about? I sigh. I guess there’s only one way to find out.

4:25pm.i was trying to take a nap, sorry. what’s up?

Gage: In person. I’ll pick you up in 30 minutes.

okay

I can’t help but frown as I send the message. He didn’t even ask if he could, he just said he was going to pick me up. Who does that? I really don’t understand him right now. Is he still upset over that bullshit yesterday? God, if anything I’m the one who should be fucking upset about that. And if that’s why he’s wanting to talk to me in person, what even is there to talk about?

I let out a deep breath and rub my face. I don’t need to overthink this. I get up and start to undress. I distract myself by dressing up in something a little nicer. I put on some eyeliner after that too; I figured I might as well. Not that I’m doing this because I’m seeing Gage, because I really don’t care to dress up just to see anyone. Besides, I was hella depressed last year so for a while I dressed like I just woke up- and yet he still liked me somehow.

I leave the house as soon as Gage texts me saying he’s here. It feels so..awkward as I walk out and to his car. As soon as I get in, I expected at least a hello or something, but instead, all he does is start fucking driving. Is he serious? The expression on his face is one I can’t read; he looks neutral, but not. His hands aren’t gripping the steering wheel tightly the way he did yesterday, so if he’s mad, he’s not showing it. That’s good- I guess.

God, he looks good. I can’t help but think. His hair is all messy and he’s wearing the outfit he bought yesterday. So he can’t be too upset, can he? If he’s wearing something he bought on a date with me, he shouldn’t be; but maybe he’s doing that to make me feel bad? Ugh, shut up, Y/N, just listen to the music. His music. Shut up! But goddamn, that sweater really does look good on him, even if it’s over a shirt.

Soon, he parks and gets out of the car. He’s stopped us at a park. Oh, god. I get out, and close the door absentmindedly. This is the park I went with Xander to. A flood of memories comes back to me in an instant, and I get so overwhelmed by them. I remember the way my fist hurt after punching Xander, and how he showed up that following school day with a bandage over his nose. I remember the after; how I was almost fucking killed after hours of walking home. And how that someone looked an awful lot like Jeff.

A pair of hands grips my shoulders and lightly shakes them. “Y/N, are you alright?” Gage asked, and suddenly my eyes focused on his. My eyes flit over his features, and I realize that I’m feeling really anxious now. Slowly, I nod, and pat his hands with mine. “Y-yeah. I’m okay.” His hands drop before I can really revel in the fact he touched me. So maybe he isn’t mad. “Good.” He turns and starts walking.

Okay maybe he is. I follow a distance behind him. He walks us up to the benches, and sits down on the table. He glances at me and pats the spot beside him. I take it, leaving a little space between us. I wait for him to speak. I mean, he was the one who took me out here to talk. “Y/N?” He asks, and I look at him, but he’s looking out onto the trees. “Yeah?” I respond, and internally curse myself for how shaky my voice sounds right now. I don’t want him to be mad at me.

“Two weeks.” My eyebrows furrow. “What?” “Two weeks we’ve been dating, and you still haven’t asked me to be your boyfriend.” His gaze finally meets mine, and his brows are furrowed the same way mine are. But his pretty green eyes are all I can think about. “You haven’t asked me to be your boyfriend either.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay. Will you be my boyfriend, then, Y/N?” He asked, his voice tinged with a bit of frustration. Is this really the reason why he’s upset? I bite my lip, and think about it. I don’t really like the idea of a label. Plus, just today I was thinking about cutting things off with him. I do like Gage, but he really disregarded my boundaries last night.

And yet, despite that, I don’t think I care. That’s bad, isn’t it? Yet, he’s liked me in a way no one else has. I had boyfriends before, but we didn’t date. As if we were boyfriends for the sake of not being friends with benefits or just so we wouldn’t sleep with other people. So now that I am dating someone, I want to take it slow, do things right this time. But is this right? I wouldn’t know. Everyone has their flaws, right? So what if Gage’s is him being pushy? That’s hardly anything. It could be much worse.

“Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.” That little v in between his eyebrows disappears, and a wide smile makes its way onto his face. His hands cup either side of my face, and he brings me into a kiss. I close my eyes and kiss him back, but I’m not really feeling it. All these thoughts are still floating in my head, and I’m still anxious, so I just kind of let this moment happen. This should feel right. His hands trail from my face down my neck to rest on my chest. He’s never touched me like this, even the night I kissed him for the first time and we almost did something I would have regretted.

I rest my hands on his waist, a safe place to put them. His movements become too much, his tongue sliding its way into my mouth- and I have to pull away. His eyes open, and immediately his eyebrows knit together again. “Woah, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, his hands climbing up to cup my face again. I didn’t realize how the tears started to spill out and run down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away and nod. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, really. Just.. keep kissing me,” I whisper and press my lips against his for another kiss. He hesitates, his hands stiff on my face, but eventually, he kisses back and we resume what we started.

6:47pm.

When we pull up to my house, I go to open the door, but Gage’s hand grabs my wrist. I turn to him, his gaze catching mine. “Ga-” I start, but he kisses me, pulls back momentarily, then kisses me again. It catches me off guard, but again, I let it happen. His hands roam over me; from my face, to my hair, down my neck and chest, then finally resting at my waist. We sat there in the car for a while, his lips melting against mine in a hot and messy kiss. His hands grip my shirt, and he keeps trying to pull me closer, but I’m already as close as I can get while we’re in the car.

My hands trail from his hair to his chest, and I give him a light push. “Gage, please,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath. He blinks at me, his face turning a little pink. “Sorry, I guess I got carried away.” I opened the door and stepped out. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” I asked, leaning against the frame. He smiled, and I noticed the way it made me disregard the events from yesterday. “Yeah. I’ll pick you up same time as usual.”

John is sprawled out on the couch when I go inside. I try to pay him no attention as I lock the door. “Hey, you’re finally back. What are we havin’ for dinner?” His words are slurred, and I notice the few empty beer bottles around the couch. God, he got in the old beer again. I need to throw the rest out tomorrow. “Uh, give me a second,” I responded before quickly striding down the hall to my room.

I place my phone down on my bed, and glance into the small square mirror hanging on my wall. I touch the space on my neck where Gage’s teeth sank in. He got a little too excited at the park; he even drew blood. I chew on my lip anxiously. John would kill me if he saw that. But, I do have to admit, it was cute; the way he freaked out when he tasted it. I open one of my dresser drawers and take out an old turtleneck sweater. I take my shirt off and slip the sweater on. It’s itchy, but I’ll have to wear it tonight, since he’s insisting I order us dinner.

I glance over at the mirror again, staring at my reflection. The past days of stress have started showing up on me; the purple spots under my eyes darkened, and I look almost empty. I’m sure that’s from all the crying. “I guess I’ll just find something in the kitchen then!” I hear John’s voice from the living room. I sighed deeply. He’s so tiring.

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

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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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it is becoming increasingly hard for me to want to write for female readers..😨. its so frustrating trying to find any fanfiction with a male reader. if the fandom isn't big?? yeah that's not happening. i just wanna read maven calore x readers without being misgendered come on man 😭

#which is why i originally wasnt going to write for female readers period #then i started thinking eh more ppl to like my shit #but man female readers always get fanfics #its so frustrating #i just want to be gay #let me be gay

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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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Rules

Even though I haven't gotten requests as of now, I figured I'd go ahead and do this. I only have creepypasta stuff out right now, but I will write for more than that :). I'll probably add to this, though.

Creepypasta/Marble Hornets:

Jeff the Killer

Jane the Killer

Nina the Killer

Ticci Toby

Tim Wright/Masky

Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Slenderman

Eyeless Jack

Bloody Painter

Nurse Ann

Jason the Toymaker

Laughing Jack

I will add more creeps eventually, these are just the ones I've already written small stuff for in the past therefore feel more confident in the way I write them :)

Red Queen:

Mare Barrow

Shade Barrow

Diana Farley

Tiberias Calore

Maven Calore

Evangeline Samos

Elane Haven

Kilorn Warren

Cameron Cole

Stardew Valley:

Sebastian

Alex

Sam

Abigail

Penny

Haley

The bachelor(ette)s I haven't listed are just ones I don't know very well therefore wouldn't write for accurately.

Emily

Sandy

Maru

Wizard

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Luna Lovegood

My Hero Academia

Izuku Midoriya

Shoto Todoroki

Kyoka Jirou

Ochaco Uraraka

Tomura Shigaraki

Dabi

Twice

Himiko Toga

Death Note

Light Yagami

Misa Amane

What I'll write for:

Scenarios

Headcanons

X M! Reader

X Gn! Reader

X F! Reader (Strictly for wlw)

X Specific! Reader (ex: chubby, trans, poc, etc.)

Red Queen Canon Relationships (cal x mare, eve x elane, etc.)

Abigail X Haley

Sebastian X Sam

Light X L

No Romance

Smut

Fluff

Angst

Violence/Gore (to the best of my ability)

Smoking (Cigs only)

Religious trauma

AUs

Specific kinks (To an extent; if it's something I don't feel comfortable with writing, I will reply to your ask stating such and add it in the will not write section)

What I will NOT write for:

Non-con

Piss, Scat, Vomit kink

Vore

Religion (in a positive light)

Creepypasta X Creepypasta

Fetishes

Drugs/Alcohol (for trauma reasons)

MHA Canon X Canon

Evangeline X M! Reader

Elane X M! Reader

Alex X F! Reader

Maven X Canon

Misa X Canon

Polyamory

Yandere

I also will not take requests for full length fanfic books. I come up with the ideas for those myself.

For those wondering about the Creep X Creep stuff, I genuinely don't think any of the creeps would make good couples. Same with MHA, I don't "ship" any of the characters I write for. Same with Maven X Canon. He's an ass to all of them, and Mare would never go back to him even reformed (imo).

I also don't know enough about how yandere characters work, so until I figure that how I won't write for it. Same with polyam; I myself am not poly and I feel I don't know enough about that to really write for it. Nothing against poly people of course.

I will typically keep anything PG gender neutral with no physical descriptors. In smut, I will write for both AMAB and AFAB readers so you must specify in your request along with the pronouns you want me to use. If you don't specify the pronouns, I'll use they/them. If you don't specify the sex, I can only write smut where the reader isn't receiving anything. Specifying could mean describing the parts they have in the request or using the pronouns as well.

So for the way I will write things is if you ask "(Male character) X female reader" I will not write it for a female reader, I will write it gender neutral. However, I will write wlw so if you ask "(Female character) x female reader" I will write it. I will write any character x male reader specifically because male readers dont get shit and even when we do a good bit of it is written by 13 year old girls who fetishize us (speaking from experience) and it's obvious; unless that is a lesbian character, I will write it with a male reader. This is again because female readers tend to get a lot more fanfiction written for them and its tiring for male readers, along with gn and trans readers too. Will I write specifically for trans women? Trans women barely get fics too, however if it's a request that doesn't have anything to do with what your agab (assigned gender at birth) is, then there's no reason for me to write it. You would be referred to and written like a cis woman would be. Smut is different, but I already talked about that.

For the creeps, I will eventually write out my basic HCs for all the ones I write for (basic as in age, name, height, likes, dislikes, etc.). It probably won't be any time soon so don't wait up on it LMAO. I'll probably do that for Stardew Valley and maybe Red Queen too. I'm not sure about any of my other fandoms yet.

Anything I miss will be added later. This was only proofread once so sawry if there's mistakes

#rules #creepypasta #red queen #stardew valley #fanfiction #fanfic #headcanons #scenarios #harry potter #death note #my hero academia

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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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Today marks 4 years on here! And with that I also need to update you guys :). Thursday was my graduation!! It feels so weird saying that. With that being said, I haven't been working on the fanfiction because I've been really stressed these past few weeks. I'm slowly gettin back into it though so don't worry :). I'll also be getting a job soon, so sadly the chapters will probably come out even slower. Or not! I don't know yet, I'm still working out an actual schedule that I can use without feeling too pressured. Nyways, that's really all I needed to say :)

#4 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone #creepypasta #graduation

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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Word Count: 4,244

Chapter 6: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5

August 21. 3:05pm.

It gets to the point where my burning lungs won’t let me go any further. I slow down and stop, gasping for more and more air. My eyes are still watering- no Y/N, you’re still crying. It doesn’t help at all with trying to catch my breath. It sounds like I’m hyperventilating.

I breathe heavily as I look around, trying so desperately to take in my surroundings. But, with the state I’m in, I could’ve been here a thousand times before and still wouldn't be able to figure out where I am. It’s as if my vision has gotten ten times worse; I can’t make out anything, no shapes of houses or other buildings, not even the shapes of what I’m sure are trees.

I push forward and find it so difficult to walk, I trip after a few seconds. My face hits what I expected to be concrete, but instead leaves. So. Many. Leaves. When did I get back in the forest? I jolt back up, grabbing at the dirt underneath me. I look around and it’s not all blurry anymore.

All around me are trees, tall and thin, but some are thicker. I get up and turn around to find the only building out here it seems. An abandoned house? I seem to find my footing and walk up to where the front door used to be. I hesitate. What am I even doing? It’s as if something is luring me to this place, but I don’t know what.

Snap. I spin on my feet quickly, my eyes flitting around at the trees, only to find nothing. I don’t trust that for a second. I guess I’m going inside then. My shoes step on broken glass and twigs as I walk inside the small place. It doesn’t really look like a house, more like a shack. It doesn’t have a bathroom or even any bedrooms. All it has is a bunch of broken and worn down furniture and..is that a gun?

I shake my head, bend down at the knees, and examine it closer. Well, it definitely is a gun. I wonder if it’s loaded. Wait, Y/N, you should be wondering why it’s even here or, more importantly, who it belongs to. I stand up straight. Where the hell am I? And who left this here? Crack. I swiftly turn my head, and, this time, catch a glimpse of a dark figure. “Who the hell are you?” I ask. My voice comes out less shaky than I expected. Not only does my throat burn from all the running and heavy breathing, but I’m also scared shitless.

“Who are you and where the fuck did you take me?” I speak louder this time, but no answer. I followed in the direction I saw the figure sneak from, and step out of the building. Whoever it was, it seems like I gave them enough time to leave. Dammit. Suddenly, the hair on my arms stood on end. I cross them together, but that doesn’t help. There’s an ear-splitting sound that fills my ears and, helplessly, I gaze around everywhere for the source but all there is are trees. Wait, was the building gone? That question gets thrown out of my head as the sound gets worse.

“Fuck!” I groan out in pain as it gets louder, and I clutch my ears. What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Why am I here? What is that sound? I try so hard to keep standing, but that becomes impossible. My knees buckle and I drop to the ground. “Ugh!” I can feel the tears stinging at my eyes as the sound gets even louder. I blink rapidly, not wanting to shut them. In the short time that I manage that, I make out a figure standing across from me in the small clearing. But it doesn’t look right. Too tall, far too thin. Am I seeing this correctly or am I going nuts?

My heart beats so loud in my ears, loud enough to be heard just above the sound. All of this crashing sound leaves a ringing in my ears. My head is spinning, my vision is spotting. I’m fainting. I don’t want this to happen. Everything goes quiet, and that’s the second I know it’s happening. My head drops into the grass just as the tall figure gets closer.

?:??

My head is pounding when I wake up. I groan, but that makes it worse. It’s so bad I can feel it in my teeth. I open my eyes only to see grass. Am I still in the forest? I sit up slowly, and wince. I feel so sore. My ears are ringing slightly. I bring my hand up to my wet nose, and wipe whatever it is off. I look down at my hand and notice it’s blood on my fingers. Well, that’s a nice thought. My nose was bleeding, which is confusing because it never bleeds. I sigh and ignore the headache, gazing around to get a hint at where I am.

I guess I’m not in the forest anymore, but just outside of it. There’s trees at the edge of the grass I’ve been laying on, but only there. It’s darker out now; the sun’s gone. How long was I out for? “Enough for me to be starving” I think as my stomach makes all kinds of noises. What time is it? My phone! I was out for so long, someone could’ve robbed me. I feel around my pockets and let out a sigh of relief as I find my phone and wallet in the back one. I take it out, and try to turn it on. “You've gotta be kidding..” It’s dead. Of course it is.

I groan, put the phone back in my pocket, and stand up. My legs feel like they’re on fire. How long did I run for today? I walk away from the forest. I don’t want to go back there. As I walk, I try to make out anything that could tell me exactly where I am. I stop squinting as I come across a picnic table. Is that..? Am I in the park from earlier? I get closer to it and as I do, I smell the strong scent of Xander’s cologne lingering at the bench. Xander. The memories from today come flooding back and I feel so sick about it. Why did I break his nose? For literally coming out to me? I groan into my hands. I feel like such an ass.

But I also feel so fucking exhausted. Too exhausted to get caught up in shit from earlier. I huff and walk out of the park. I wish I could call someone to come pick me up because I sure as hell don’t feel like walking all the way home. I walk to the nearest gas station, and go inside. The air conditioning feels so heavenly against my sticky skin. I desperately need to shower when I get home. “Welcome,” I turn my head to the front. I nod to the sleepy cashier and turn to the aisles.

I look through the rows of snacks and pick out a bag of cookies. I go to the back and take a bottle of water, then head back to the front. I place the stuff on the counter and the cashier lazily scans them. “Did you find everything okay?” He asks. “Yeah..hey, could you tell me what time it is?” I ask. He stares at me for a second, then takes his phone out. “7:48.” I nod, making sure my face doesn’t reflect my shock. I was knocked out for almost 5 hours?

“11.57.” I hand him the cash and tell him to keep the change. He seems pretty thankful he had one less thing to do. I open the water bottle as soon as I leave, chugging down about half of it. It soothes my throat a bit, so I feel safe to eat a little. I sit down on the concrete, open the bag of cookies, and eat a few. Now that I’ve relaxed a little, I can think about stuff. Mostly about how I have no clue what happened before I passed out. I remember eating, then punching Xander and running away. Then I was in the woods for some reason. I try to remember, but come up with nothing. My headache gets worse when I try and think about it too much, so I give up.

I finish my cookies and throw away the bag in the dumpster by the store. I sigh. How the hell am I supposed to get home? I ignore all the pain in my legs and chest as I make the walk back home. It’s a good thing I’ve been to this park enough to know the way home. It’s so hard to make myself put one foot in front of the other, but I manage it. I’m definitely skipping dinner; I’m way too tired to deal with that.

?:??

It takes at least an hour and a half to get back home, though I can’t be entirely sure since my phone is fucking dead. I huffed and picked up the pace a little as I finally made it to my street. As I’m walking, I feel that weird sense that I’m being watched. I keep walking, then quickly turn my head to look behind me. My heart sinks. This dude is entirely covered in..is that blood? It stains his white hoodie so easily. He’s got long, messy hair that drips blood on the pavement like water after a shower. I take in his build, his hair, and especially his face.

I couldn’t get a good enough look at it, as he almost immediately pounces on me. The wind is knocked out of my chest when my back hits the concrete, and I gasp. He leans over me, his face so close to mine. I can feel myself start to shake as I stare at him wide-eyed. The scariest thing about him isn’t even the jagged scars that carve into the skin of his cheeks, or all the blood that he’s absolutely drenched in. No, the scariest thing about him is the way he stares unblinkingly into my eyes. My breath catches as I feel the blade of what I assume is a knife against my throat. I didn’t even realize he was carrying one.

I breathe slow and shallow breaths, so terrified that I don’t dare try to do anything more. I just stare into his eyes. What’s taking him so long? If he’s going to kill me like he clearly has others, why hasn’t he done it yet? As I stare into those soulless eyes, I notice how blue they are. Ice blue. As soon as I think about the connection, he suddenly jerks up and off of me. I pick myself up as fast as I can, but he’s gone when I’m finally on my feet.

I ignore my burning lungs and sprint the rest of the way back home. My hands are shaking so bad as I unlock the door, quickly getting inside and locking it behind me. I breathe heavily as I make my way to the bathroom, ignoring John trying to get my attention. I shut the door behind me, lock it, and turn the light on. I stare at the boy in the mirror. Jesus fucking christ, I do look crazy.

My neck is bleeding, but it’s not terrible. I guess the knife sunk in a little; just the thought makes me shiver. My hair is all gross. What happened to it? I think back to just a minute ago..how his hair draped across my face…Oh no. Please don’t tell me. The tears continue to drip down my face slowly as I move my hands into my hair. My breathing turns ragged as soon as I feel it. It takes all of me to pull my hands back out. They shake as I will my eyes to look. I must sound hysterical as I breathe so harshly. Blood. There’s blood in my hair. But that’s not the worst part. I felt chunks. I don’t think as I strip my clothes off as fast as I can and turn the water on in the tub. I switch the damn thing to the showerhead and take off the last of my clothes.

I jump in and scrub my hair furiously. The blood turns the water red, and the chunks of it take a lot of water to finally slip down the drain. I’m crying again, but I can’t really tell much because of the water from the showerhead. My face feels so numb, and I almost forget about the cut on my neck. My neck. Once the water runs clean again, I press my fingers lightly against it. I wince as I feel across the line. It’s not deep, so I don't have to worry about a bandage or anything.

I take a washcloth and scrub my skin raw; then I do the same with my hair, shampooing it twice. I only stop the water and get out once I feel like I’m about to faint. I take a towel from under the sink and dry my hair, making sure I get the roots. Once I’m done with that, I wrap the towel around me and open the door, then speed walk to my room. “Hey!” John tries to stop me, but I close the door on him, locking it immediately. “Go away!” I scream. There’s silence behind the door, then I hear his footsteps as he walks away.

I take the towel off and put some comfy clothes on. I groan and flop down on my bed. What the hell just happened? Today doesn’t feel real. At all. The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense- but does at the same time? When he jumped off of me is when I thought about Jeff. I mean, I don’t know what his whole face looks like; but the hair, those eyes, his build..Is that why he acts like such an ass? I shake my head. No, it can’t be true; it can’t be him…but is it?

I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm down my racing heartbeat, and run my fingers through my clean hair. As I think it over, it becomes increasingly obvious that it would make sense if it was him. Is that why he ran? Did he recognize me? I sigh and rest my hands on my face. If it was him and he did recognize me, maybe he wouldn't bother me anymore. Stop that Y/N, there's plenty of people with the same eye color as Jeff.

“Ugh!” I groan. My brain won’t ever shut up when I fucking want it to. I turn on my side and press the power button on my phone, wait for it to turn on, then go through all my notifications. Oh. I have a bunch of missed calls and messages from Xander, a few messages from John and Gage, and a missed call from Lily. Wow, I must be getting popular or some shit. I bite my lip and press on the notifications from Xander before I get the chance to decide against it.

August 21. 3:21pm.

Xander: Y/N pls pls just talk to me

Xander: I didnt mean to overstep

Xander: I didnt know u even liked me like that, im sry

4:46pm.

Xander: Y/N pls

Xander: Y/NNNN

Xander: Im sorry for kissing u without permission

Xander: That was my fault, Im so sorry

Xander: Pls just talk to me

5:57pm.

Xander: Im sorry. Pls dont be mad at me. Ill give u space

I sigh, dropping to lay on my back again. I feel bad for punching him and running away. Why did I do that? That was such an asshole thing to do and so not like me. It could be that I’ve had so much social interaction this whole week, first school, then the fucking bar, Gage’s house, and then seeing Xander. Or maybe it was all the confusing “feelings” I’ve been having for Gage. I’m still not entirely sure how exactly I feel about him, but that’s what dating is for, right? I’m new to dating, of course, so I’m not entirely sure.

I lay there, thinking about it for a good while. It would be easy to fall for Xander again, but is that really what I want? Gage is good for me. There’s always the chance that Xander could fall back into his old habits, and if I were with him, I could too. I think of the pros and cons, who is better for me. So far, the only pros with Xander would be that I already loved him once, and that’d make it easier to get over him because, well, I wouldn’t have to anymore. But, I’ve already started things with Gage and finally started feeling better about Xander. Well, now I’m gonna feel like shit about him all over again.

I groan. I wish he never told me he liked me, or I never got drunk enough to have the confidence to kiss Gage. I’ve never had this problem before. I’ve never had “options” until now. That feels like such a weird thing to say, but what else is there to say about it? When I got with guys, they didn’t really like me, they just liked what I could do for them; so it was easy for me to not think much about who I slept with, because it was just that, not anything close to love. I like Gage, but I loved Xander. This is all so confusing. I sit up and stretch. I pick up my phone again, and decide to go with the hardest choice; see what happens with Gage and tell Xander I need space.

August 27. 3:34pm.

“Do you think this one looks good?” Gage asks as he does a little twirl, showing off the skirt he’s trying on. I smile. “It looks adorable on you. I’m not really a skirt guy, but it suits you.” He faces me and covers his cheeks with the ends of his sweater sleeves. “Thanks, Y/N.” I push off the wall and walk up to him. I kiss his forehead and wrap my hands around his wrists. I pull his hands away from his face, and kiss his lips. He giggles before pushing me away. “Y/N, you know I can’t kiss you until the snake bites heal.”

I smile widely. “I know, but I can’t help myself when you look so cute,” I pepper small kisses all over his face and he whines in protest. It’s been a week since I decided to try things out with him. It’s also been a week since I last spoke to Xander. He’s coming to school again, but we don’t talk. He’s given me the space I ask for, and I’m glad. It makes me feel better about my decision, and better about him. I still find myself feeling bad, but it was either him or Gage; either way someone’s feelings would be hurt. I have a reason to deny Xander, but I don’t have any real reason to deny Gage.

Since last week, I’ve also made more of an effort to talk to Jeff. He’s not as terrible once you actually get him to keep talking to you- but that’s the problem; he talks to me for a maximum of 10 minutes straight, then tells me to fuck off, walks away, or just ignores me. I’ve found out a bit more about him now. He’s 19, he lives by himself, and apparently he’s bisexual. When I found that out, it was mostly a joke question. “Do you like anyone here?” I had asked, and I didn’t really mean it as a romantic question, more like if he actually had friends; but looking back at it, it really didn’t sound like that at all. He just blinked at me- he’s finally dropped that offended look, well mostly. “No. None of these bitches are worth my time. The dudes here aren’t either.” It caught me off guard at the time, because people don’t usually drop their sexuality that casually. But I guess it does match his character.

And now I’m shopping with Gage, at Hot Topic of all places. I haven’t been in months and he’s never been at all. It didn’t surprise me much, because he doesn’t really look like he would shop here. But, when I brought the idea up, he seemed excited about going. “I’ve seen so much cool stuff from there, and I mean, I do want to try out a new style,” He responded with a cute smile. I couldn’t resist it. The thought of seeing him in clothes that were more my style made me feel good. It was like seeing him in my own clothes. Well, minus the skirts. We’ve been on a few dates before this one, including getting piercings together. I suggested snake bites for him because I thought they’d look good on him (they do), and he said I should get a septum to match his; I wanted to get one for forever anyways.

“Think I should get it?” he asks, leaning his head against me. “Yeah, but I think you should get one of their knit sweaters to go with it.” I pull away. “The ones with the holes in it?” he asked, his face going all pink. I smirk. “Yeah, one of those.” We go back to the front, and he starts going through the rack of sweaters and jackets. “Is this the one you were talking about?” He asks, and his face is still all pink. “Yeah, wouldn’t it look awesome on you?” I hold the cropped sweater up against his chest, and I imagine him in it. He would look great in it. His face grows redder. “My whole chest would be out,” He whispers, averting his gaze.

I laugh. “Yeah, that’s the point. But, you could wear something underneath it. Orrr,” I lean in and whisper in his ear. “You could wear it just for me.” I pull away and smile as he shudders. “W-well. I guess you’re right.” He takes the sweater from me and carries it to the counter with the skirt.

5:23pm.

After the mall, we went to get something to eat. On the way back home, my phone starts going off in my lap. Gage glances at me for a second before his eyes go back to the road. I ignore every message and call, before I just turn the phone off. I stare out the window, listening to the London After Midnight playing through the speakers. “Are you not going to answer that?” I hear Gage ask. “No, I don’t plan on it.” I sigh. I don’t want him to ask about John, really. “Who is that? You always get a bunch of messages that you just..ignore.” I chew on my lip. Do I tell him? I guess I could now, he was gonna have to know sometime. “My dad,” I responded. I can hear my heartbeat thump thump in my ears. Why do I feel so nervous about this?

“Oh.” He says blankly. As I bite down on my lip, the metallic taste of blood meets my tongue. He’s silent for a few minutes. What is he thinking right now? God, he probably thinks I just hate my dad for no reason. I continue to chew on my lip despite the fact it’s burning. “Why do you ignore him?” I fold my hands and start kneading them together. I don’t like talking about this. “Uhm. That’s really personal, Gage,” I murmur. Why does he want to know so bad?

I turn to look at him. He’s gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if he’s upset. He’s got an expression on his face that I’ve never seen on him before. His jaw tight, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. Is he mad at me? “Whatever,” He responds coolly. I look away. Why is he so upset? Did I do something wrong?

“What are you doing, Y/N? Why don’t you want me going inside?” I squint my eyes, and stand in front of the door so he won’t try anything. “Like I said, that’s really personal, Gage.” He stares at me, and I stare back. What the hell is he thinking? He strides towards me, but I shove him away; it’s easy to, because he’s shorter than me. “Y/N. Answer my question. What are you doing in there that you don’t want me to see?” I look at him defensively. “What the fuck is up with you? I’m not doing anything. What do you think I’m doing?” I ask, walking up to him. He glares at me. “Whatever Y/N, don’t answer me. But there’s something off about this.” He turns to walk away, but at that moment, the door swings open.

When we get to my house, I get out and shut the door like I usually do. I started letting him drop me off on Tuesday. He had agreed to not get out of the car when I asked him not to, albeit acting very weird about it. But now, when I start walking up to the door, I hear his footsteps trailing behind me. My brows furrow and I turn on my heels. “What are you doing?” I ask. He stands there with his arms folded in front of him. He still looks mad.

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

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gloomzombie · 1 year ago

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I'll Bury You For This

Pairings: Jeff the Killer X Male Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,554

Chapter Five: The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3 , Ch.4

August 21. 12:34pm.

Gage’s arms around me aren’t enough to pull me out of the blurry and noisy state my mind is in. His lips press against my cheek before he pulls out of the hug. “I’ll see you Monday, then?” He asks, and I nod. Though he’s right here, he sounds so far away. “See you,” I responded. I hesitate for a second before giving him a small kiss. “Bye Gage,” I whisper. His face flushes. “Bye, Y/N.” I get on my bike that was left just outside his door, and take off down the pristine pavement.

The ride home is quick, not only because of the relatively short distance, but also because I’m not paying attention. I got to the house faster than I really wanted to. I’m putting my bike down against the house without really registering it. Only when I’m at the door do I take a second to slow down. I sigh heavily. I don’t want to go. Why did I waste my time with Gage like that? I wish I could’ve stayed. I shake my head and stick my key into the knob, twisting open the door.

When I walk in, John isn’t there. Thank god. I shut the door behind me quietly and make my way down the hallway just as silent. I peek into his room to see him passed out on his bed, snoring. I quickly go into my room, then shut and lock the door. I sit my backpack down next to my bed and lie down in it. Ugh. Going from Gage’s back to this is terrible. I take my phone out and check the time. 12:47pm. I bite my lip. I guess I should start getting ready.

I got up and changed outfits, because for some reason I didn’t bring some for today; this morning I changed into what I wore yesterday, which did not smell good. The stench of cigarettes and beer isn’t exactly pleasant. I slip into some more comfortable pants that I got from the last time I went to Hot Topic, along with a My Chemical Romance shirt I got the same day (with a long sleeve underneath of course). I slide a studded belt through the loops on my pants. I don’t feel like being extra today, so I leave the accessories at that.

I unzip my backpack and take out my meds along with the water bottle I left in there yesterday. I press the capsule pill to my tongue and swallow it down with gulps of water. I hope I don’t get a headache this time because I never did take one yesterday. I sit back down on my bed. I’ll just listen to music until it’s time to leave, starting with Siouxsie and the Banshees.

August 21. 1:54pm.

I took the familiar route to my favorite bookstore. I figured I should walk since he usually drives me in his car once we meet up. I’m not entirely sure how that’s gonna go. The last time I was in his car, he made me drive (illegally, I don’t have a license) while he and his ex made out drunkenly in the backseat. All throughout the walk, my mind was swarmed with a buzzing sound. Not literally, but it might as well have been just sound with the way I couldn’t stop fucking thinking.

I’m sweating by the time I reach the store, only slightly, but enough to make me feel disgusting. The lovely breezes at night have been getting cooler, but it has barely dented the warmer weather during the day. I wish I wore a tank top today, but even just the thought of having people stare at my arms and wrists makes my skin crawl. I hate attention, especially the bad kind.

I sigh as I sit down on the sidewalk, beside the door. I watch cars and bikes pass by as I listen to music, waiting for Xander’s car to show up. I hum along to the lyrics of I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin. I will not bow / I will not break / I will shut the world away / I will not fall / I will not fade / I will take your breath away.

I sit up at the sight of his black toyota pulling into the parking spot in front of me. I pause the song and take out my earbuds, putting them back into my pocket. I stand up, brushing off my pants and sliding my phone into my back pocket. I suddenly wished I wore a light jacket so I had something to do with my hands, though that wouldn’t have been great due to the heat. I could’ve worn just the jacket if I had thought about it.

I think he trimmed his hair up, because it looks all choppy, much more so than before. His hair’s been freshly dyed black too, some dye still staining his neck. He walks up to me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his skinny jeans somehow. “Hey Y/N.” He smiles at me and it makes me feel nervous. He’s gonna want to talk to me about whatever it is later it seems.

“Hey Xan.” I respond coolly. I’ve already decided I’m letting him do all the talking until he wants to address the elephant in the room. “Well, let’s go.” he responds after a second of staring at me. Weird. I lead the way inside. “Where do you wanna go?” I ask and turn to look at him. He shrugs. “I dunno. I guess wherever you go the most.” I roll my eyes and walk down the countless bookshelves into many different rooms.

I can feel his hand touch mine a few times, which makes my eyebrows furrow. I don’t say anything about it, as his touch doesn’t linger, but it’s still really weird. He doesn’t usually do physical affection with me; that’s something he saves for his girlfriends and hookups and crushes, even though that’s not the word he likes to use for them.

We make it to the familiar Y/A + Horror section, a section that I always visit. I tap my finger on my chin as I look down the aisles. I didn’t think about buying any books today, but I probably will- especially since Xander’s paying for lunch. “So, what do you usually get when you come here?” I hear him ask from the front of the area. He’s looking at the Stephen King books, though I doubt he’s gonna buy anything from a bookstore.

“Whatever’s on my list. I just finished a series, so I don’t have much to really start with now.” I bend down at the knees to look at the bottom of the fantasy shelf. I carefully picked out a book- Realm Breaker by Victoria Aveyard. “You have a list?” I stand up straight and walk down an aisle back to the novels. I picked up one of the books that they stood up straight and examined it- Girl in Pieces by Kathleen Glasgow. I’ve heard really good reviews about it.

I take the books in my arms, holding them close. “Yeah. How else am I gonna keep track of all the books I’ve read, and all the ones I want to read?” I ask, walking up to where he’s standing. He’s looking at the Twilight books. “Think I’m gonna get one.” He mutters. I stare at him, my eyes widening. “Really?” I ask. “Twilight?”

“Well yeah. Is there something wrong with that?” He gives me a glare. I shake my head. Why is he being so defensive? “Of course not. Just, why Twilight?” I ask, looking not at him, but at the bookshelf. “Because I know you really liked those books, and hated the movies apparently,” He murmurs in the last part. His words rattle in my brain. I don’t understand them. He’s never shown interest in my interests like this. So what changed? Maybe he feels bad about practically leaving me to deal with my shit alone for months straight. But, then again, I know him well enough to know that probably isn’t true. Xander suddenly gaining a conscience? Please.

“Well, yeah. They left out so many important scenes from the books, and oh my god, don’t get me started on how they changed the way Rosalie tells Bella her story in Eclipse.” He laughs. “Guess I’ll have to read the books first then.” I look back at him and he’s already looking at me, a small smile on his lips. My face heats up. “Yeah. You will.”

I shake my head a little and step back. “But you really don’t have to buy one. You can borrow mine. I have the whole set plus Midnight Sun.” I offer. I’ve underlined stuff in the books, but it's just a romance- not anything personal, so I’m really not worried about him reading them. He looks down at the book in his hands. Slowly, he shakes his head. “Nah. I think I want to start collecting books the way you do.” He looks back up at me. “Do you think I should get New Moon too?”

We make our way through the endless hallways to the front with our books. I placed mine on the checkout counter. “Just these two?” Melissa asks. I still have to thank her for the last time I was here; she rounded my total down because I didn’t bring enough cash. But not while Xander’s here. As I go to speak, he interrupts me. “Four. I’ll be paying,” He places his books beside mine. Melissa nods and starts scanning the books. I glare at him. I can feel my face grow unbearably hot. Why is he paying for me?

“Your total is 48 dollars and 34 cents for two used hardcovers and two new paperbacks. Cash or card?” Melissa smiles at me, then looks at Xander. After he hands her the cash, he takes our books into his arms before I get the chance to take mine. He smiles at me, then leads the way to the door. As soon as the door shuts, I pull my books from his arms into my own. “I can pay for my fucking self, you know.”

I don’t wait to see his reaction. I step down onto the pavement and stand by his passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it. I stare at my reflection in the glass. I grimace and open the door as soon as I hear it unlock. I slide in and place my books down in my lap before closing the door. I put on my seatbelt and stare at the books, running my hand over the cover of Girl in Pieces. I distract myself by thinking about how different the cover feels than most paperbacks I own. It’s soft somehow; pretty looking and pretty feeling.

“I didn’t know that’d make you so upset,” Xander speaks through the silence, starting the car. I chew on my bottom lip, tearing the skin. I fight the nerves and look over at him. His eyes are on the road as he pulls out of the parking lot. Have his hands always looked that good? They’re more veiny looking than I remember. He’s probably practicing with his guitar again.

I sigh. “Sorry for that. There’s a lot on my mind and I-” “No, no. I’m sorry. For assuming you wanted me to pay, and, well…” He trails off, and as I look at his face, I see how he looks different, even there. There’s a softness to his features that wasn’t really there before. He looks somehow different than he did a few months ago.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asks, his fingers tapping the wheel to the beat of the music. I look away. “I don’t know, really. Anything is fine.”

He takes us to the diner we used to go to every other day. I think it makes me emotional, but I can’t really tell if it’s this, or if I was already feeling it. When our food is ready, he takes it in one hand and, weirdly enough, mine in the other. What’s happened to him that he’s wanting so much physical affection from me? When we get in the car, I place my books in the backseat with his so I can hold the food. I lean my head up against the window as he drives silently to the park, with A Day To Remember playing in the background.

As he drove, I kept my phone by my leg. That’s usually not a great sign, when I don’t use my phone the way I always do. It’s getting bad again, I’m sure. I never realize it until I’m already deep in it.

He parks the car, but sits there for a moment. “Y/N?” he asks. I look over at him. He’s got this sort of pained expression on his face. One I’ve only ever seen once. When his dad cheated on his mom and the yelling, throwing things, and beating started; he’d come sneak into my room through the window I’m not allowed to open. It was the only time I really felt like we could’ve been something more, even though I knew even then it wasn’t happening.

I’d let him cry into my shirt, clinging onto me as if I was the only thing he needed. And I was, but not in the way I really wanted. He’d talk to me about it through sobs while I rubbed his back, and wiped the tears from his eyes. Those were the moments I really knew I loved him. And even now, some twisted part of me still does. God I can’t think about that anymore, can I?

“Yeah?” I bite my lip. He turns to meet my stare, and it looks as if he’s about to cry. “Y/N..” He whispers, and his hands move from his lap up to my face. It feels like my throat is closing up. I can’t breathe, so I turn my head away, his hands retreating back. “Let’s go,” I say, opening the car door quickly and sliding out. I shut the door and look around.

This place used to have more woods, but then they started adding to the playground- more climbing rocks, swings, and other weird stuff I can’t put a name to. I start walking to the picnic tables when I hear his door shut. I sit down on one of them, Xander taking a seat in front of me. We take the food out of the bag and start eating in silence.

I can’t help but think about the way he’s been acting today. It’s so different from how I know him. It’s kind of worrying me. I gaze at him, his attention on his food. I examine his face more. His eyes are sunken, though the lines under his eyes are only slightly noticeable. I look him down and I notice he’s gotten skinnier. Skinnier than usual of course, as he always was twig like.

His eyes meet mine and my face heats up, my eyes drop down to the fries I haven’t finished. I eat a few more, and after a few seconds, Xander speaks up. “I’m 3 weeks sober, y’know.” I raise my eyebrows and look up at him again. He’s still looking at me, but his facial expression is serious. Of course it is, this is something serious.

“Really? From what?” I ask and immediately regret it. He grimaces and I realize that’s really not something I should ask since there’s so much it could be. “Sorry.” “No, it’s fine.” He sighs, looking back down at his food. “Everything, Y/N. The drugs, the alcohol…the cutting too,” he mutters. He jams a fry harshly into the ketchup dumped onto his hamburger wrapper. “Well, everything but cigarettes. I won’t be able to quit those for a while, or at least not anytime soon.” I nod. “Hey, that’s awesome Xander. Really, I’m proud of you.” For the first time in months, I reached out to touch him, caressing his hand. He looks back up at me, and I can see the tears welling up in his eyes.

I can’t help but feel like crying too. In the past few days, I’ve been getting more and more prone to it. I usually don’t cry nearly as much as I have this week. More reason to believe it’s getting bad again. Though I guess this is different. Reasonable. My best friend is sober for probably the first time in years. This is the farthest he’s gotten with it; he’s only ever been able to get to one week before he starts with, “Y/N, please let me drink some of your beer. I promise it’ll be just one drink,” or “Pass me the bong, will you? I know, I just couldn’t take it anymore. You understand, don’t you Y/N?”

He turns his palm upwards, holding my hand in his. “Thanks. That means a lot.” I smile, and he smiles too. A sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I pull my hand back, and his smile drops. “Besides that..” He starts, and takes a deep breath. “I wanted to…apologize.” Well, that I did not expect. Hoped for? Yes. Expected? Absolutely not.

I wait a few seconds before responding. “For…what?” I ask. His fingers tap on the wooden table. “For…well, being an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before, or come to school, or-” He inhales sharply, looking anywhere but at me. “Did you not come to school because of..me?” I ask, my jaw dropping a little. I never thought he did that because of ME.

He nods, still not looking at me. “Not all of it was because of you. There were a lot of reasons. Mainly because of how fucking hard it is to go there and want to stay sober, but it was also because I can’t stand all the attention anymore. It was because I didn’t want to see my shit ton of exes again or..” he sighs before looking at me, finally. “I didn’t want to see you because looking at you made me feel...bad.”

I blink. How do I feel about this new information? How am I supposed to feel about it? I chew on my lip as I process what he’s just said. He doesn’t like all those girls that follow him around? All the girls that surround him constantly? And looking at me makes him feel bad? “Why?” I ask. I have to know.

He hesitates, his fingers scratching at the table. “Uh..Well…” He groans, moving his hands up to cover his face. He mutters something into his hands, but I can’t understand it. “What?” He slams his hands down on the table and I flinch. “Because I can’t stand to look at you when you don’t look at me.” My brows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stares at me, his deep brown eyes piercing into mine. Suddenly, his hands are cupping my face the way they did in the car. In a quick motion, he pulls my head forward and his lips meet mine. I’m so taken off guard by this that I sit still for a bit. What the fuck? I push him away from me, swing my legs over the bench and stand up quickly. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I’m screaming at him and I don’t even care. “Who the hell do you think you are doing that to me?” I’m breathing in and out so harshly, it feels like my lungs are on fire.

“Y/N-” “Kiss my ass, Xander. I loved you. I loved you for so many fucking years. And when I’m finally, FINALLY, getting over your ass you go and do this? And I’m supposed to just go along with it?” My face feels so wet; my throat feels like it’s closing up and I’m choking on the words that spit out of my mouth.

I start to laugh, but it sounds and feels so wrong with all the crying mixed with it. “What the hell is wrong with you, Xander? And I started to believe you were getting your shit together,” I pick up my trash and move as fast as I can to the nearest trash can. The sound of crunching leaves follows me. “Y/N please,” He whines as I throw out my trash. I spin on my heels to face him. I don’t think twice about it; I punch him in the face as hard as I can.

He’s shocked, flinching away from me as soon as my fist pulls back. His nose is bleeding, and I’m sure it feels even worse with the tears streaming down his face. “I loved you too. I just didn’t realize it,” He’s sobbing; there’s so many cracks in his voice I barely understand what he’s saying. “Just leave me alone, Xander.” My voice is just as pitiful sounding as his. He pleads with me more, begging me not to leave. I don’t care. I don't care. I take off, sprinting out of the park as fast as my feet will let me.

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

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