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klemen-tine · 2 months

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Blowing Raspberries

Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic

@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.

TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect

Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot.

Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting.

“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs.

“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it.

“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?”

“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and–

“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.”

“Dami!”

“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.”

Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing.

Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair.

“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life.

Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about.

“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”

Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham.

Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne.

They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads.

“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.”

“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.”

“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book.

“It's Elizabeth Bennett.”

“Jay, I swear to God.”

“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.”

“Little wing–”

“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.”

“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words.

“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs.

He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –

“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?”

“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–”

“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!”

– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present.

“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it.

Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee.

“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle.

Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’

Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason.

“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?”

Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass.

“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze.

Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission.

Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.

The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home.

Y/N quickly shot those down.

Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something.

Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here.

‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine.

“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight.

When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over.

Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child.

Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance.

Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing.

However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away.

Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them.

“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why.

Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here.

++++

“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder.

“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.”

The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up.

Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others.

He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred.

They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home?

Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence.

There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.

Every phone call, every text message going unanswered.

‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking.

‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea.

“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.”

Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector.

“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?”

In the L/N Manor

Y/N walked the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere.

When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm.

Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it.

Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham.

Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him.

Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.

Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window.

“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl.

“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?”

‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face.

“Did F/N do this?”

“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?”

“You’re rooms this way.”

“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice.

“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!”

“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory.

“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.”

Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.”

“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go.

“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip.

“Guys, you’re scaring me.”

“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move.

Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing.

“Wa-”

“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor.

++++

Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages.

Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably.

“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–”

“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands.

“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.”

“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.”

Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say.

“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–”

“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile.

Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.

Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different.

“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his.

“I-I should change first–”

“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.”

“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something.

The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted.

“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty.

Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”

“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air.

Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about.

“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family.

They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like.

Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick.

Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.”

“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman.

“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers.

“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.”

“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper.

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say.

Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries

Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly.

“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-”

“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance.

“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–”

“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family.

Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly.

“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.”

“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”

“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.”

Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.”

“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.”

“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in.

“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.”

“Language.”

“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company.

“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!” Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"

Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.”

He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper.

“Just… just please don’t do that again.”

“It won’t happen again. I promise.”

______________________________________________________________

Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

Text

(Continued from this snippet! Content notes: police interrogation, homophobia)

“You don’t look gay.” The detective gives Steve a very obvious once-over. Steve tries to look gayer as subtly as he can.

“Sorry,” he says. “Guess I’ll have to let my boyfriend know you don’t think I look gay enough to fuck him.”

The detective’s face twists slightly, like he’s smelled something bad. “No need to be like that. I’m just saying, I bet a good-looking guy like you could get a girlfriend pretty easy.”

“You’re not my type,” says Steve. He smiles with his teeth, even though his heart is going fast and he can feel his palms starting to sweat.

The detective’s hands tense, and Steve wonders if he’s about to get hit, but they relax again and the detective sits back.

“Just doing my job,” says the detective. “Because, funny enough, we asked around with all your little friends, and it seems like you used to be a bit of a ladies’ man.”

“Things change,” says Steve.

“In fact…seems like none of your friends ever even saw you talk to Munson before. Moved in different circles and everything. I remember what high school was like.”

The detective leans close.

“So why would the captain of the swim team, a nice normal boy from a good family with a string of pretty girlfriends, ever—ever—stick his neck out like this for some murdering scum like Munson? That’s what I’m trying to figure out, here.”

“Don’t fucking talk about him like that,” says Steve. His mouth is dry. His pulse is thundering in his ears. “He didn’t kill anyone. He was with me the whole time. He’s—he didn’t kill anyone.”

“Hm,” says the detective.

It takes a while for them to stop interrogating him. They keep asking him the same questions over and over, trying to trip him up. He asks for water and doesn’t get it. In the back of his mind, a hysterical little voice is shrieking Scoops Ahoy! I work for Scoops Ahoy!, but he manages to keep it locked down. Doesn’t let himself get baited, just keeps repeating that Eddie was with him the whole time and neither of them know anything.

It takes a while, but it’s over eventually.

When he leaves the station, Eddie’s standing outside with Hopper and Joyce Byers, wearing a shirt and jeans that definitely belonged to Jonathan at some point. Eddie’s got his hands tucked into his armpits, looking antsy and tense, but he’s free and standing on his own two feet. It’s a pretty big upgrade from when Steve last saw him about a week or two ago.

It’s almost too easy to go straight over to him, wrapping him up in a tight hug like they’ve had their arms around each other a million times.

“Oof. Easy there, tiger,” laughs Eddie. “I’m, uh, still a little fragile.”

“Sorry,” says Steve, and loosens his hold. He doesn’t let go all the way.

“Come on, boys,” says Joyce. “I’m taking you two home. Steve, Eddie’s been staying with us, but we’re a little short on spare beds and it’s not great for his recovery. We’re moving him to your place until we can figure out something better, okay?”

———

Joyce drops them off and helps carry in a few garbage bags full of Eddie’s stuff. There’s not that much.

And then the door closes behind her, and Steve’s alone with Eddie for the first time since—actually, maybe ever.

“So,” says Eddie. “What…the fuck, Harrington.”

“Is that an actual question?” Steve says. He rolls his shoulders, trying to get some of the stiffness out. “I mean, didn’t Hopper and Mrs. Byers explain everything to you?”

“Kind of? I mean, I still think this is probably the worst idea of all time, but they told me—anyway, what I meant just now was a much more personalized and individual what the fuck. As in, why the fuck would you agree to any of this? You know you’re never gonna get another girl in this town to look at you now.”

“Dumping me already? Ice cold, man.”

Eddie groans and actually throws his hands in the air in frustration. Steve hadn’t known people did that in real life.

“Jesus christ.” Eddie wheels around and grabs two of the garbage bags. “I can’t do this right now, I need to take a fucking nap. We will be discussing this later.”

“Still don’t know what there is to discuss,” says Steve, but he picks up the last garbage bag and leads the way to the spare room.

Eddie pitches forwards onto the bed, arms outstretched and face mashed into the pillow. “Fuck yes, I am going to marry this goddamn mattress. Hit the lights when you leave,” he says, slightly muffled.

For a second, Steve finds himself stepping forward with a hand outstretched to—do something. He’s not sure what. Touch Eddie’s hair, or something dumb like that. His face warms. He’s really glad Eddie isn’t looking at him and doesn’t see how he’s kind of just standing there with a hand out for no reason.

He turns around, flicking the light switch on his way out, and doesn’t look back.

#steddie #the document title for this is literally “2 cakes”#bc again...there is already a fic with this premise. by bonitabreezy. as I have already said: please go read that instead!#this is like the writing equivalent of a figure study #don't know where it's going or if it's going anywhere. I truly am just vibing with increasingly dubious historical accuracy.

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lovingmattysposts · 3 months

Text

You don't know me 19

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: mentions of cheating, uhhhh sad af

I giggled into Sydney’s shoulder as we walked down the hallway. “That’s not real” She whispered over to me. I smiled and shook my head.

“Oh it was very real” I laughed making her push me slightly. I looked up at her shaking her head. I paused when I looked up seeing Max standing next to to my locker.

I swallowed as my smile dropped. Sydney looked over at me. “Are you okay?” She whispered to me. I looked over at her and then nodded looking back at Max.

“I’ll…..go” She said placing her hand on my arm. I took in a breath as she walked away. I looked down at my feet as I walked up to him.

I didn’t say anything as I looked up at him. “Hey” He breathed looking down at me. I just stared up at him. I crossed my arms over my chest as I scanned the hallway.

“You’re mad at me”

I looked over at him, clenching my jaw just staring at him.

“The party—“ He shook his head before glancing down at me. “Where did you go? I looked for you everywhere and—“ He shook his head.

“Why do you care Max?” I asked shaking my head. He blinked down at me. “You’re my girlfriend, I care about where you are. I care about your safety” He said shaking his head.

“My—“ I paused. “My safety?” I scoffed shaking my head. I stepped back and shook my head. “Y/n, don’t do this. Let me just talk to you” He stepped towards me. I shook my head.

He grabbed my arm before pulling me towards him, pulling me to him. He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened.” He mumbled as I stilled against him.

“Please just listen to me, don’t do this” He mumbled. I sighed as I leaned against him. “I love you, so….much” He whispered. I swallowed closing my eyes.

I pulled back from him.

“I don’t want to have this conversation right now” I shook my head as I looked around the hallway meeting the eyes of people around us. He nodded and looked down at me.

“Okay, okay” He shook his head as he grabbed my hands. “We don’t have to. I’ll come over after school and we can—we can talk about this. I just—“ He let out a breath.

“I can’t stand this” He said looking down at me. “Not talking” He swallowed. I sighed as I pulled my hands from his.

“Okay, we’ll talk after school” I nodded as I turned. He just watched me as I walked away.

Chris pov

I closed my locker seeing Nate staring back at me. I sighed and turned. “You were suppose to meet me at the rec center” He stated and I sighed looking down at my feet.

“Yeah” I breathed. “I just—lost track of time I’m sorry” I shook my head. Nate let out a breath. “It’s cupcake again isn’t—“

“Nate I told you to stop that shit” I glared at him. He stared up at me slightly in shock from my tone. I swallowed looking away.

“Chris talk to me. Tell me what’s going on” Nate said softly looking at me. I clenched my jaw as I looked down. “You don’t talk to me anymore about what’s going on in your head. You don’t even talk about her, you don’t talk about Rose, you’re shutting down. Whats going on?” He breathed.

“Don’t talk about Rose, you didn’t know her” I said shaking my head. He grabbed my arm pulling me back.

“She’s killing you”

“She’s gonna break up with him”

“Chris no she’s not”

I clenched my jaw as I stared down at him. “Chris she’s not” He whispered shaking his head. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I turned my head, just in time to see his arms wrapped around her, her head against his chest.

She stared off as they were pressed against each other.

I just looked at them. Almost seeing myself, because yesterday that was me. Me and her. It was me holding her like that, not him.

I felt my chest clench. I swallowed shaking my head.

She’s killing me.

I swallowed before pushing past Nate and walking towards the door of the school.

I’ve calmed myself down, but now I felt like a bomb waiting to explode. It’s about two hours before the two week moment hit and the worst part about it is that if she didn’t break up with him, I’d still be here.

For her.

I loved her.

I genuinely loved her. A feeling I thought i’d never get from anyone other than Rose. It was scary but I took a chance and I fell for her without even trying. She made it so easy.

But standing from the outside I felt like shit. Having to bite my tongue and watch her with someone else. I never bite my tongue, never once in my life. My mouth getting me in more trouble than anything else.

But I didn’t care.

Not until her.

She made me want to care, made me want to better myself. For her.

I looked down feeling tears weld in my eyes as I let out a breath. No one ever promised me this was going to be easy. We’re complicated. That’s what we were.

And I was okay with that if it meant a happy ending. But sitting here I’m not sure I was ever meant to have that. A happy ending.

I’m not sure it was ever meant for a happy ending. Nothing in my life has ever ended happily no matter how hard I tried.

Looking at Rose, telling her I loved her. Looking at Y/n, wanting her to choose me. It didn’t matter. None of it did, because I was never meant my happy ending.

It didn’t feel like my fault, but looking at it—I’m the only common denominator. And it’s killing me from the inside out.

“Hey”

I looked up seeing Nate standing in front of me. I sighed and hung my head. “Hey” I breathed looking at my feet. He just looked at me for a second. “What are you doing out here?” Nate asked leaning agaisnt the railing of the steps.

I sighed as I stood up. "Just thinking" I nodded shoving my hands into the pockets of my sweathshirt. He nodded, just looking at me. "I'm about to go the rink, if you want to skate a few rounds. We've been needing another guy--I told them you would play" Nate said as he shurgged his hockey bag over his shoulder.

I looked from him to his stick in his hand. "It's off season why are you still skating?" I asked shaking my head. He smiled and gripped his stick. "Gotta keep the joints loose if I wanna be captain next year" He smiled. I shook my head smiling.

"So will you come? I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks" He sighed. I sighed looking down at my shoes tied around my feet. "I can't" I breathed. "Y/n asked me to come over tonight" I swallowed watching him.

His face dropped before he looked off to the side, clenching his jaw. He let out a breath before he chuckled. I clenched my jaw watching him.

"You really are the dumbest motherfucker I know" He said looking up at me. My demonor changed as he spoke to me. I just glared down at him. "How long has this been going on now? A few months? How is huh?" He asked leaning his stick against the railing.

I clenched my fists, begging mentally for Nate not to do this. "How does it feel soaking up Max's sloppy seconds just because you wanted a taste of some rich bitches's pussy?" He spat harshly.

I stepped down before pushing his shoulder's back, making his stumble. "Don't" I shook my head. "Wake up Chris!" He yelled at me. "She's fucking using you" He shook his head. "She's the type of person who's never been told no her entire life" He said staring at me. I just looked at him.

"God Chris, you're a lot of this but I never saw you as the type to give someone exactly what they want when they want it" He spat. "You don't get it Nate" My body shook with angry towards my best friend.

"She likes a taste for the wild side, who doesn't? But when her hands start to get dirty do you think she's gonna slum it here with you or run back to mommy and daddy to make it all better?" He tiled his head at me.

I pushed forward before grabbing him by his shirt, pulling his face up to mine. "You gonna hit me tough guy? You're gonna hit your best friend?" He asked staring into my eyes. I swallowed as I looked at him, my grip tightening on him.

"Do it" He spat. I just looked at him before he grabbed my shoulders pushing me back agaisnt the railing, grabbing my shirt harshly. "I love the shit out of you" He said shaking his head.

"I care about you, I don't want to see you get hurt and I know you will" he mumbled. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Chris snap out of it. What are you doing?" He pushed me releasing me. I let out a breath as he walked back grabbing his stick. I felt a buzz in my pocket. I looked down. Nate's eyes glanced down to my pocket.

"Better get going, the princess doesn't like to wait" He said motioning to my pocket before walking down my driveway. I just watched him before looking down at my phone, swiping it open.

are you close? I really need to talk to you.

I sighed before shutting off my phone.

I leaned back against the chair bringing the cigarette back up to my lip inhaling, letting the smoke roll off my lips as the cold breeze of the outside come over me.

I heard the back gate start to open. I knew she would show up eventually. I didn't want to see her tonight if I was being honest, because I knew in a state like this I didn't have any sympathy.

It's like when I get into the mindset of hurt, every single ounce of pity leaves my body and anger fills it, because I'm fucking hurt. I'm a fucking idiot. After Nate left I couldn't bring myself to walk over to her house, because I knew what she was going to say.

I need more time Chris.

You don't get it Chris.

It's not that simple.

I gripped the cigarette harder against my fingers as I thought about it. I shouldn't see her. If I had it my way, I would just never speak to her again because I knew that would hurt her less than If I ever spoke to her again.

Because now since the anger rolled in, the feeling of being stupid rolling though my veins, I had nothing nice to say to her. Because I loved her, and she treated me exactly how I felt half the time. Like shit.

I didn't look at her as she walked over to me, her smile brigthening as she saw my face. She stepped carefully, attempting to not get any mud on her shoes. She jumped against the concreate to avoid the mud puddle.

"Hey" She breathed smiling up at me. I didn't respond as I looked at my feet. "I started to worried after I didn't hear from you, I thought something happened" She said as she stopped in front of me. I licked my lips as brought the cigarette back up to my mouth.

Her smile slightly faded as she looked down at me. "I thought you stopped smoking” She spoke softly looking down at me. I stood up towering over her before blowing the smoke against her face.

She blinked and turned her head, scrunching her nose. She looked back up at me, I noticed a piece of paper she was holding in her hands when she waved her hand around to clear the smoke. She raised her eyebrows and smiled slightly. "Okay" She laughed shifting on her feet.

"Did you not get my messages?" She asked softly. I just stared down at her as she looked up at me with her doe eyes. She looked perfect. It made me even more fucking angry.

"You're never gonna break up with him are you?" I asked looking down at her with cold eyes. Her smile altered as she stared at me, blinking. "I-" She looked down.

"Are you?" I said loudly, making her flinch. Her eyes widened as she looked at me. I clenched my jaw. "Chris, the reason I texted you--"

"Answer the fucking question y/n!" I scoffed as I stepped back from her and brought the cigarette between my teeth. Her grip tightened against the paper in her hands as she stared at me with furrowed brows.

"Chris, please don't yell" She whispered. I smiled and shook my head, before hanging my head back looking up. "You are unreal" I chuckled. Her eyes followed mine as I paced back and forth. I looked over at her.

"What was the point of all of this? Huh?" I asked walking back up at her. She looked up at me. "You were never going to break up with him" I said shaking my head. She opened her mouth. "I-"

"No, you weren't" I snapped harshly. She swallowed and as she stood frozen, not moving an inch. "All you ever cared about was your reputation. What people thought about you, being seen with someone like--oh that would just drop your social scale to ground, wouldn't it?" I asked raising my eyebrows. Confusion crossed her face and she shook her head.

"Fuck your parents, fuck your friends, fuck your goddamn reputation, because wake the fuck up y/n, that doesn't mean shit. You're going to spend the rest of your life pretending to be someone you're not.” I shook my head. Her lips parted as she watched me, her eyes started to water.

"Sorry---Let me rephrase. Someone you're told to be, because I guess you are who you act like" I pointed at her. Her hands dropped slightly.

"Chris" She whispered shaking her head. I pressed my hands to my face. "The worst part is I can't even fucking blame you" I yelled as my hands dropped. "i'm a fucking idiot and I let you play me like a damn game" I sighed swallowing.

"I gave you exactly what you wanted" I pointed at her. Her face filled with hurt.

"Because no one tells the princess no, right?" I asked pursing my lips. She swallowed. "Please don't call me that" She whispered as a tear fell from her eye. I rolled my eyes.

"Now you don't like that? Because you sure did when I was calling you it in bed, when you were cheating on your boyfriend. Did you forget about that?" I snapped.

Her face turned to the side as her lip quivered and she cried. I just watched her for a second as she hid her face from me.

"Chris, please stop" She whispered as her voice broke. I clenched my jaw. "You don't get to be hurt" I shook my head, anger rising in my veins like a poision I couldn't stop.

"I told you about everything I've ever been through and you had no intention of ever actually being with me. That's fucked up. S-So fucked up" I swallowed the lump in my throat. She turned back at me as her lip quivered and her eyes scanned the paper in her hands.

"You're just like fucking Rose" I spat. She looked up at me, her mouth parting. "The only difference is she actually had the guts to leave" I shook my head.

Y/n's lip quivered as she looked at me. She bit it in between her teeth as she looked back down at the paper in her hands. I just watched her. "Um.." Her voice choked. She swallowed her hands shaking against the paper.

"I-" She breathed. "I w-wrote you this" She breathed meeting my eyes again, her’s almost unrecognizable from the tears fogging her vision. She extended her hand as she held it out for me to take. My eyes glanced from hers to the paper in her hands.

I took it out of her hands before crumbling it up. She watched me as I crumbled the frail paper in my fists. Her mouth parting as she stepped forward but paused, holding her hand out. I turned and threw it against the side door of my house.

Her eyes followed the paper and she just stared at it, lifeless against the ground. I just looked at her as she looked at the paper like I had just crumbled her life up and destroyed it. Her mouth pressed together as she closed her eyes letting the tears pour from her eyes. Her entire face shook.

"Go home and save the waterworks for your fucking boyfriend" I said shaking my head. Her hands came together as she placed them shakily against herself, staring back up at me.

"You wanted a taste of the darkside?" I asked looking down at her before flicking my cigarette towards her feet. She didn't look at it as it hit the ground, her eyes stared into mine shaking her head. "There it was" I whispered.

She opened her mouth to speak before closing it.

"I never want to see you again" I mumbled before turning and walking towards the door and shaking my head as the tears began to fill my eyes. I didn't want to cry in front of her, because I wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt me. I didn't want to look more weak than I already felt.

I looked down at the paper as I slid the door open and sighed before pushing the door open and closing it, leaving her out there alone.

tag list: @sleepysturnss @frankdelreyy @ahastrns @lavie627 @bernardstrombonixx @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturniolossmut @sturniololol @chrisstopherfilmed @l9vesick @sturvoblur @7tee3n @stylesnsturnz @nick2thick @chrizzypooks @sturniolosmind @m4tthewsgf @lookingatsab @mattscokewhore @lovergirl4387 @fake-sturniolos @theweeknd-fan @leahdsullivan00 @3iysian @angelworldspost @user25701874 @niastqrniolo @sturnnai @christinarowie332 @sturniofilmd @lexisecretaccx @sturnioloslife @rosiegirl80 @miastromboli @st7rn @sophie21153-blog @poopiannrose @jindoritheworld @pinkpearlsrry @justaslvttygirl @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @bernardenjoyer @livluvschris @mattestrella @erodaangel

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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ivystoryweaver · 2 months

Text

March the 9th

Marc Spector x gn!reader 1.4k words, angst, sex is implied, no smut, tw abuse, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Your skin tingles as you struggle you steady your breathing. Pacing the floor for an hour does nothing to calm that fuzzy feeling in the center of you.

He’ll be here soon.

You’ve memorized the pattern on the ceiling over your bed, because you stared at it the entire night, never once slipping into blissful slumber.

Your phone never rings. No emails, no letters, no messages.

But he always shows.

Bouncing on your toes, you smooth your hands down the lines of your body, checking your reflection, which lets you know you look the same as you did five minutes ago.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

The first year...

Your family moved onto the Spectors’ street when you were nine years old. You quickly befriended the Spector boys, often playing with them after school and on weekends.

Then, one day, Randall was gone. You were supposed to play with them that day, but you had the flu.

Marc was never the same and you didn’t see much of him, except at school. The Spectors didn’t throw him a birthday party and he didn’t show up at yours either.

So you created a handmade birthday card for him, making a point to cross his path at school. He was absent.

The next year approached, and you realized the Spectors once again would not be throwing a party, so you gave Marc his birthday card on March 8th. He jerked it out of your hand, eyes downcast, muttering, “thanks,” before shuffling away.

You called his name, scampering after him, but he never looked back. The two of you were in middle school now and Marc didn’t seem to have many friends at all. Hopefully he would read the card, which invited him over to hang out.

He did.

On the night of March 9th, he crawled through your bedroom window for the first time. Tears streaked down his cheeks as his body trembled.

“Can I sleep on your floor?” He brokenly whispered.

You had a queen sized bed, so, of course you didn’t let your clearly devastated friend sleep on the hard floor.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured drowsily, once he slid beneath the covers. “Please, they’ll kill me.”

You didn’t understand and he wouldn’t explain. You were only twelve years old. You squeezed his hand and let him rest.

He talked to you after that, only sometimes.

The next March 9th, you gave him another card, with another invitation to come over. He did. Your fingers tangled with his.

Again at fourteen, when, after swiping the tears from his eyes, he kissed you. He kissed you for a long time and you thought you’d never felt anything so magical.

At fifteen, he kissed and touched you all night long. Your heart was his now.

Still, he kept to himself for most of the other 364 days a year.

At sixteen, he climbed into your bed and the two of you lost your virginity. Neither of you had a clue what you were doing - clumsy and wild and sweet. But he kissed you and held you and he tried. You loved him and you had never felt so close to anyone in your life.

He flinched away from your touch several times, so you thought you must be doing something wrong.

It wasn’t until seventeen that you saw his well-hidden bruises and red welts by your bedside lamplight.

“Who did this to you?” Tears streamed down your face as your fingertips traced lovingly around anger and drunkenness unleashed on his beautiful body.

His eyes met yours and you knew. He came to your bed a lot more after that.

Then came eighteen. Three months before graduation. You asked him all the time where he wanted to go to college - where the two of you could go together, but nothing ever came of it. He only answered, “I have to get out.”

March the 9th of year eighteen was the last you saw of Marc Spector for a long time. He didn’t make it to graduation.

He sent you a letter in year nineteen.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all it said.

Year twenty passed. 21, 22, 23…

You graduated college and met someone. But every March the 9th, your fingers would trace his picture, so your "someone" didn't last.

More than a few March 9ths ago, you somehow wished him right back to you. He knocked on your door, shuffling anxiously from foot to foot, swallowing hard and expecting rejection.

You threw your arms around him. “Happy birthday,” you whispered against his cheek before his mouth found yours.

He took you to bed and you knew then that your heart would only ever be his.

It wasn’t enough though. He granted you a half-hearted explanation about danger and old debts and how he was so messed up - he could never bring it all into your life.

You had enough dignity to refrain from begging him.

The next March the 9th was the same. And the next, and the next.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

This year, you’re resolute. It will be the last. It has to be. You can’t do this anymore. He doesn’t love you - not the way you love him. You’ll wish him happy birthday, take him to your bed, but - never again. It hurts too much.

A sharp knock jolts you out of your reverie, sending all the air rushing out of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you steady yourself, giving yourself one final moment to prepare for your last night with Marc.

You reach for the door and find him holding flowers. Irises.

“You like these…right?” Dark eyebrows shift hopefully.

You breathe his name, your heart flaming with adoration. You take the bouquet and wrap your arms around his neck like always, whispering, “Happy birthday,” against his cheek as his lips seek out your own. He tastes you slowly…sweetly, his breath mingling with yours.

You lose your grasp on the irises, forgetting to care as they spill to the floor. Strong arms wind around you as his hands spread across your back, pressing you against the solid warmth of his chest. The kiss goes on and on until you’re dizzy and breathless and hot tears wet your eyes at the thought of never tasting him again.

You fight them back as the two of you finally make it through the front door and he kicks it closed. He takes you to bed and you drown in the essence that is Marc - unearthed secrets, soul-crushing burdens, beautiful desperation and a kind of hungry tenderness. You bury your nose in the crook of his neck, comforted and tormented as you inhale the spicy, sun-kissed scent of him, your lips tasting, committing him to memory.

Saltiness seeps into your mouth and you’re not sure if it’s the slight sheen on his skin as he works his way into you, or the tears slipping down your cheeks.

Your fingers twist through his dark curls as you pull your body flush against his - the heat of your tongue - the twist of your body - the scrape of your fingernails desperately attempting to communicate your need for this man.

He’s been your birthday wish most of your life.

He holds you against him until the calendar turns to the 10th. The sun rises and you realize he’s never stayed this long.

Which will make the speech you’ve planned so much harder. You shuffle to the bathroom while he sleeps, steeling yourself for the heartbreak. As you stare into the mirror, tears burn your eyes and you wonder if you can go through with it. The thought of never seeing him again is crushing, but you can’t go on like this.

Finally, you straighten out your appearance and freshen up, fighting like hell to keep your composure.

Marc is awake, sitting on the edge of your bed in only his boxers. You expect him to be dressed and ready to walk out the door, but as his warm, coffee colored eyes find yours…

He gently smiles.

“Marc?” You whisper, slowly approaching him.

“Come here,” he softly instructs, reaching for you. You sink down beside him, your foreheads touching sweetly as he grips your arms.

“Could…do you think I could stay?”

Tears trickle down. Again. “I don’t know,” you whimper. “I-I can’t-"

“I know.,” he nods, pressing an urgent kiss to your mouth. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

He’s off the bed and reaching for his clothes before you can blink, but you don’t let him get far. “Stay,” you urgently plead. “Stay with me.”

He freezes, eyes wide and hopeful. “F-for tonight, or…”

“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your palms to the heat of his bare chest. “Stay or go. Just decide.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Next March the 9th…

“Happy birthday, baby,” you murmur against his lips as he rolls you underneath him.

“Happy anniversary,” he returns, sealing his mouth to yours.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc Spector-Centric stories

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#happy birthday marc spector #angst filled baby boy #we love you #marc spector #moon knight #mcu #oscar isaac characters

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 7 months

Text

A Safe Place - LN

Summary: An old friend calls Lando after a long time of growing apart. But things change quickly when they confess how much they miss each other.

With Lando having moved to Monaco but the McLaren headquarters being Silverstone, he’s still in England a lot. But it does mean that while he’s maintained a closeness with a lot of friends, a few have sort of lost him. Or he’s thinks he lost them.

One of those people. His childhood best friend, y/n.

The two of them grew up together with her brother being another one of the boys that raced against Lando and for some reason him and y/n just hit it off. They had weekly sleepovers, they helped each other with school (or she helped him), she travelled with him when they got a bit older and supported him with every race. In fact up until mid-way through 2021, she didn’t miss a race through his whole f2 and f1 career.

Everything changed when she got her boyfriend and he didn’t get along with Lando, it wasn’t nice for her to have to deal with and while she never directly addressed it with Lando. That was the point they began to lose their closeness and when Lando moved countries, he didn’t even tell her.

They talk every once in a while and have a catch up and though neither have admitted when asked about the other, there’s a hollow feeling when they think about each other and how much they miss the other.

So when Lando receives a phone call from her after a few months of nothing heard from her, he doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Y/n y/l/n, I was wondering when you-“ Lando cuts himself off when he hears a sniffle. Please be a cold. “Y/n?”

“Yeah, hi. Sorry.” She murmurs with a tone that Lando knows too well even if it’s been a long time since they last spoke.

When they were younger y/n’s brother was constantly taunting her about how she’d cry over spilt milk or at the drop of a penny. Not that Lando was ever bothered, he took pride in being able to comfort her and help.

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“I’m in the hospital…I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t want to scare any of my family…” Y/n hiccups clearly beginning to get more upset as she talks.

“What hospital?”

“Well doesn’t matter you’re in Monaco, kind of why I called. I don’t need fussing.” She laughs sadly then sighing. “It’s stupid anyway.”

“I’m actually in England. Tell me the hospital please, y/n.” Lando pleads clearing shocking her for a moment before she tells him the hospital that thankfully isn’t hours away but still quite a drive.

When he arrives at the hospital, it dawns on him that he just doesn’t know why the hell she is here and if she’s actually ok.

Eventually, after some tracking down he finds her ward and room then grimacing when he sees a cast on her hand while she looks a little cut up with stitches on her eyebrow and another one on her hairline.

“Y/n, what the fuck happened?”

“My idiot ex-boyfriend is a complete moron and tried to kill us.” Y/n hiccups as she begins to cry again. “He was driving us home from my parents on the motorway and we were arguing about a comment my brother had made because he doesn’t like him. He was going too fast and he fucking…he just fucking swerved to overtake someone and lost control.”

“Is he here?” Lando questions ready to murder the man.

“I don’t know, I don’t even care.” Y/n mutters before she uses her nonbandaged hand to wipe at her eyes. “I’m sorry I called you…we haven’t talked for months and you have a life. You don’t need my mess.”

Lando remembers once when they were drunk and young, y/n told him that he was the best person in her life and the only person she trusted to keep her safe. In the moment, Lando knew that y/n was his soulmate and their time would come. But then she started dating that fucking twat of a man who wedged Lando and y/n apart.

“Y/n, you are a life long best friend of mine. I’m not going to leave you here on your own like this.” Lando frowns then shifting to her. “This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, but I was always hoping you’d leave that arsehole.”

“Lando…” Y/n smiles lightly only not scolding him for the brutal honesty because she knows it’s justified. “Thank you for coming, I mean you really didn’t have to but it is nice having you here.”

“The moment you said you were in hospital I knew you couldn’t be on your own. You hate hospitals.” Lando frowns while she laughs a little. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bruised. Both physically and emotionally.” Y/n admits before scooting to the side and patting the bed which makes him climb up. “I really miss our sleepovers. They’re really my favourite memories.”

“It wasn’t me who stopped them.” Lando mumbles making her look down. “I get it. Don’t worry.”

“No. Don’t validate it. I was awful to cut you off like that and I knew exactly what I was doing.” Y/n murmurs as she watches Lando look at her her cast.

“Does it hurt?”

“It did when it happened. I broke it because I reached out to try and stop him from getting hurt. Clean break when he launched forward. Did more damage to me than him.” Y/n shrugs then smiling as she leans her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t realise you spent much time in England anymore.”

“I’m here a lot. Max is still over here, the family are still all here. I’ve got no lack of reasons to be over here really.” Lando shrugs before sighing as he looks at her. “It’s not how I wanted to reignite things, but I’m glad you Called and got me here. I hate to think of you being in here alone.”

“Are you staying?”

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere.” Lando assures her.

Lando didn’t leave y/n and he stayed until she was out the hospital then proceeded to insist she come back to his and following three days of practically holding her hostage and dressing her in his clothes, he pleaded that she come to the race weekend.

“You are a menace. I can’t possibly-“

“You can. It’ll be fine and you’ll love it.” Lando cuts in as she sits on his bathroom counter. “I miss having you at races. You were my good luck charm.”

“You’ve done pretty amazing since I stopped coming.” Y/n snorts while Lando pouts earning a groan. “Fine. But please don’t do what you did last time.”

“What did I do last time?”

“Introduce me then nearly slap Carlos when he jokingly flirted with me.” Y/n smiles making Lando’s eyes narrow in on her. “What?”

“I want to introduce you as something new.”

“And what’s that?”

“…My girlfriend?”

“You’re a twat. Oh my gosh, you are such a fucking twat!” Y/n exclaims making him wince before realising he doesn’t know why she’s mad at him.

“What?”

“I had a crush on you for YEARS got continuously friend zoned by you. Then I finally moved on and now after a car accident-you choose now to ask me?”

“I didn’t friend zone you.” Total bollocks and he knows it. “Ok, I did. But only because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Y/n sighs looking at him before she does something that isn’t something she’s done for the first time, but granted when they kissed before it was either passed off as a drunk mistake or they were just kids and didn’t think anything serious of it.

“I have loved you since the moment we met. So yes, I will be your girlfriend and you can introduce me as such.” Y/n smiles breaking the kiss that he had completely lost himself in. “You’re still the one person I feel completely safe around. My family don’t even manage to make me feel so…at ease.”

Lando just kisses her again, really just enjoying the fact that he has the ability to do it and feel like he’s breaking some unspoken agreement they have with each other. Now they have verbal confirmation that before now they were both being a little stupid.

“Not quite the start I expected when I finally got you. But I think I expected too much for us to be normal.” Lando smiles earning a laugh. “This time I’m going to be showing you off in the paddock as my girlfriend rather than just as my friend that everyone knew I wanted to date.”

“Everyone knew.”

“Yeah, they were really annoying me about it.” Lando confirms while she smirks at him a little. “Bedtime.”

Y/n hums as he picks her up before dropping her on the bed like a sack of potatoes. Something he seems to take great pleasure in while she sprawls out on his bed like a starfish. Then he tosses himself on her, dodging landing on her cast just in case of causing further injury.

“Do you think our parents knew?” Y/n asks while he rests his head on her stomach, letting her play with his curls.

“I think they were trying to set us up the whole time.” Lando laughs before he cuddles into her. “My mum was more heartbroken than me when I told her we’d sort of just grown apart.”

“Oh god, I’m just an awful person. I have to go visit your mum. It’s been well over a year since I last spoke to her.”

“I’m sure I can help arrange something, as her son obviously.”

“Please, she always liked me more.” Annoyingly true. “But I would appreciate that.

Long time fans of Lando’s know about y/n, they even noticed when she disappeared and the two stopped spending time with each other.

The reaction was not only immediately, but explosive. The pictures of Lando looking back and reaching to take y/n’s hand to walk with him have been reposted more than any other picture of him that’s ever been taken. Or at least in his opinion those photos have got to be the post popular ones he’s seen.

“Should I show them my lockscreen?” Lando jokes while y/n looks at him since he’s already got a lockscreen which might get them both in some trouble.

“I didn’t think anyone noticed me before never mind that they would notice my return.”

“Well people like to know who has my attention.” Lando shrugs then grinning at her as he changes into his drivers suit, pulling it up onto himself. “And even they knew the way I look at you is special. Always had been.”

“It should be romantic but I just feel like a dumbass for not realising.”

Lando hums before reaching out and making a grabby hand for her to take before she links them and allows him to lead her out of there. It might seem like he’s possessive, but last time she was here he didn’t want to spark rumours that might’ve made her uncomfortable. Now he has the green light to be exactly as he wants to be, especially since before he had such heavy spotlight on him they used to walk around in F2 and any races before that holding hands and denying that there was anything more serious than a friendship between them.

“Are you going to tell them?”

“I’m not sure I need to.” Lando smiles while seeing more than one camera in the paddock turning to capture them.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando #norris #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

Text

Cinderblock Garden - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This was a request that I got, but after talking with the person that requested it, I made a few changes and didn't want to use the request in the fic lmao. It's LONG AS FUCK and I've been working on this for four days now. There's a lot in this, from events in Scream 5, leading to New York stuff.

*to the sweet soul that requested this, I hope things are a little better for you now, and I hope you like this and that it was worth the wait lmao*

This contains SMUT -Minors DNI

Summary: You're the child of Gale and Dewey, and after losing your dad and almost dying yourself, you struggle with day to day life. When you meet Ethan, he just wants you to let him in, but after your ex, Amber, tried to kill you, you struggle to do that.

Contains: Over 10k words, jesus. Angst, mentions of death, mental health struggles, some fluffy smut tbh. Virgin!Ethan and Virgin!Reader -p in v, oral(f recieving).

A/N: In this fic, Ethan is simply Ethan Landry and has no relation to Richie.

When your parents split, you had the option to move to New York with your mom, Gale, or stay in Woodsboro with your dad, Dewey. You decided to stay with your dad because your mom’s main priority was always her career. Even when you’d go out to visit her every now and then, she’d never take any time off, always leaving you alone in her condo. You couldn’t stand her new boyfriend, either. You hated how quickly she could just move on from your dad when he still loved her so much.

You had your doubts about love after watching your parents’ marriage fall apart, until you met Amber. It started off as a friendship, the perfect distraction from your less than perfect home life. Especially when your dad started drinking, she was always there. You realized that you had feelings, she did, too. Everyone else in the friend group was a little surprised by it, but they were all very accepting of it, wanting nothing more than for you to be happy.

When Tara got attacked, your dad wanted to put you on the first plane to New York. Your mom agreed with him, but you refused. You weren’t going to leave your best friend while she recovered, and you really didn’t want to leave Amber.

“Please, this is what’s best for you,” your dad said, pleading with you to get out of Woodsboro. “You’re the child of two people that have been through this several times. If they went after Tara, they’ll probably come after you. I can’t let that happen.”

You sighed, noticing the whisky bottle in his hand. “You put me through so many self defense classes…I think I can handle myself.”

“I was the sheriff, with far more training than you’ve had. I’ve been stabbed several times…you’re not invincible.”

“I’m not saying I am. If I really am a target, don’t you think they’d find me regardless of if I’m in Woodsboro or not?” you questioned, as he took a swig out of the bottle. “I’m safer here with you.”

He sighed, looking over to you. “Fine, but the tracking app on your phone…if you turn it off so I can’t find you, you’re going to New York. If you don’t come straight home after school, you’re going to New York. If you have a run-in with Ghostface-“

“I’m going to New York. I got it,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to do anything other than go to school or be here?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not going to lose you,” he said, his tone stern.

“Okay, but what happens when you’re at the bar getting wasted and I’m here by myself? Isn’t it safer to have people around me?” You didn’t expect your question to come out as harshly as it did, his face wincing as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“No, you’re right. I’ll be home more, I promise,” he said, feeling guilty for making you doubt him. “Just…if you do go out with your friends, please be smart about it. Someone you’re close to is probably a part of this…just remember that. And I meant what I said about the phone tracker.”

You nodded, as he pulled you into a side hug. “Your mom is probably coming out here, just so you know.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, “The boyfriend isn’t coming with her, right?”

“I don’t know. I hope not,” he sighed, the sadness in his voice obvious. “You better get to school.”

Everyone in your friend group was on edge. Tara was alive, but her condition wasn’t great. As you joined your friends at the picnic tables outside, Amber wrapped her arm around you.

“Hey, babe,” she said, “Did you get questioned, too?”

“Yeah, I was interrogated for all of five minutes. I guess that’s the perk of being a former sheriff’s kid,” you said, as Wes looked over to you.

“How is your dad? We haven’t seen him in a while,” he asked, as you shrugged.

“He’s still the same. He tried to convince me to go to New York after what happened last night,” you sighed, as Wes gave you a confused look.

“If you had the chance to get far away from here, why the fuck wouldn’t you take it?” he asked, the paranoia that his mom instilled in him apparent as you just looked at him.

“I’m not leaving Tara…or you guys. It’s better to have more people here if this is going to be another huge thing like it’s been before.”

“Yeah, but is it a safety in numbers thing, or will it just add to the body count if you stay?” Mindy asked, as Chad sighed.

“Seriously? We’re all freaked out enough,” he said, as Wes’ phone dinged in his pocket.

“Hey guys, Tara just woke up.”

When everyone got up to leave, you looked around at your friends, thinking back to what your dad said. You saw them all in such a positive light that you couldn’t even begin to suspect any of them.

Once you made it to the hospital, Tara was so happy to see everyone. Or it could’ve been all the pain meds she was on. You sat down at the foot of her bed as she sleepily smiled.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, starting to tear up as you looked at her.

“I’m okay, still shaken up, though,” she sighed, “They have police protection for me, but you guys need to be careful.”

“We’ll be fine,” Amber said knowingly as Tara smiled.

Then you saw someone you hadn’t seen in years walk into the hospital room, with whom you assumed to be her boyfriend when he called her ‘babe’.

“Hey, this is Richie,” Sam said, introducing him as he awkwardly waved.

He gave you the creeps from the start. You couldn’t shake the thought from your mind that he was guilty of something, but your parents always told you that you needed to be cautious of everyone.

“Hey, can I talk to Sam alone?” Tara asked, as everyone nodded. “Thanks for coming to see me.”

“Of course, we’ll be back tomorrow,” you said, standing up to leave.

When you made it out to the hallway, you checked the time and saw a few missed calls from your dad.

“Fuck, I need to get home,” you said, typing a text to him before putting your phone back in your pocket.

“We were going to go have some fun, though,” Amber said, “Is this how it’s going to be? Ghostface comes back and I don’t get to spend time with my girlfriend?”

“You really won’t spend any time with me if I get sent to New York,” you said, as you hopped on the elevator with everyone.

“This is annoying,” she huffed, “Wes is allowed to go out with us, and you know how his mom is.”

“Hey,” Wes said, “I have a taser and pepper spray, I’m good to go.”

“And I’ve got these hands, but dad doesn’t think that’s good enough,” you laughed, as you made it to the bottom floor. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your dad was a little annoyed when you got home, but he was just happy to know you were safe. As much as he hated your decision to stay in Woodsboro, he thought you were a pretty good judge of character and you always paid close attention to your surroundings.

Things just kept getting crazier. When Wes and Judy were killed, you and your dad ran into Sam at the crime scene. You were making small talk with her, when she nudged her head in the direction behind you.

“Isn’t that your mom?” she asked, as you turned around.

You noticed she had a camera crew with her, as you felt anger start to build up. Your dad went over to talk to her, as she kept peaking around him to look at you.

“Typical. Something happens in Woodsboro and she has to get the fucking story on it,” you said to Sam.

She was about to respond when she noticed the cop that was supposed to be watching Tara’s room standing outside of the Hick’s house.

“Who’s with my sister?” She questioned as he looked at her, confused.

She started to yell, getting your dad’s attention as he ran back over to you, your mom hot on his heels.

“I need to get to Tara,” Sam said, running towards her car.

“I’m coming with you,” you said, following her.

“I don’t think so,” Gale said, “You’re staying here, around people so you’ll be safe.”

You scoffed as you turned to look at her, “So now you decide you want to be a parent?”

She was taken aback at your words, as your dad stepped in. “I’ll go, too. She’ll be safe.”

He hopped in the passenger’s seat as you got in the back, your mom just standing there in shock as the three of you sped off.

“You shouldn’t talk to your mother like that,” Dewey scolded, as he noticed Sam’s high rate of speed. “and you should probably slow down.”

“Tara’s by herself. I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” Sam snapped, as she turned onto the road that led to the hospital. “Richie’s on his way, I hope someone gets there in time.”

She got out her phone to call Richie, as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She was frantic when she realized the call was picked up, but she was terrified once she heard Ghostface’s voice. She stopped the car as she talked, quickly jumping out with you and your dad as you ran inside of the hospital to the elevator to get to Tara’s private floor.

She just kept talking to the killer as you and your dad silently stood beside her. He pulled out his gun, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they did, he fired a shot, the loud bang making you jump. The masked person scurried away, when everyone piled out of the elevator to save Tara and Richie.

“Tara!” you screamed, running up to her. Your dad ran to Richie as you and Sam helped Tara off the floor.

Your best friend was very emotional and shaken up as her sister hugged her, but you were still on edge. You had a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

Then, you saw Ghostface charge towards Richie and your dad. You grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and ran towards the figure that was trying to attack your dad. You hit the person over the head, but you felt a sharp, burning pain in your side as you did. Your dad was able to fight back thanks to your distraction, getting in a few shots as Ghostface fell through the glass case against the hallway wall.

“Fuck,” you cried, holding your wound. Your dad’s arms wrapped around you as he walked you towards the elevator, when Richie walked over to help.

“Thanks,” Dewey said, as he walked you inside. “Shit, I didn’t shoot him in the head.”

“Does that really matter right now?” you asked, as he nodded. He stepped back out of the elevator, a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, doubled over. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to finish this,” he said, as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Dad, no. You can’t do that!” you cried, as he started to walk down the hall.

“I need to make sure you’re safe. This is how I can do that,” he paused, “I love you.”

As soon as those elevator doors closed, you started screaming, begging to go back to your dad. Sam wouldn’t let that happen. She just kept trying to assure you that he’d be okay, and that you and Tara both needed medical attention.

He wasn’t okay, though. You soon learned what happened to your dad when your mom somberly walked into the hospital room, her sad eyes meeting yours. To say you were emotionally destroyed would’ve been an understatement. You expected your mom to be a little more comforting, and she was trying, but she seemed more interested in getting details on any new leads the detectives might’ve had.

For safety reasons, they moved Tara to the same room as you, making it easier for the police to keep an eye on the both of you.

“She’s really starting to piss me off,” you sighed, as Tara looked over at you. “I’m in here, absolutely fucking devastated, and she’d rather talk to the cops.”

“Maybe she’s just trying to do what she can to keep you safe,” she suggested, “Have you heard from Amber?”

“Yeah, she’s having a party for Wes tonight. Not that you and I will be attending,” you laughed a little, as she smiled.

“Sam wants to get me out of here as soon as possible. I don’t know where she wants to go, but she just wants us to be somewhere safe.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea…maybe I’ll sneak out of here with you guys,” you said, half-joking as Tara started to nod.

“If your mom’s distracted, and the cops are busy talking to her anyway, we could sneak you out.”

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

Your mom walked back in the room, looking back and forth between you and Tara.

“Do what?” she questioned, as you glanced back over to your friend.

“Oh, um, we were talking about college. We’re both going to apply to Blackmore,” you lied, as your mom started to smile.

“Are you warming up to the idea of New York?” she asked, as you shook your head.

“Not at all, but I want my best friend there with me,” you said, a defeated look appearing on her face.

“It’s not as bad as you think it is.”

After the police finished questioning Richie and Sam for the second time of the day, they joined you, your mom, and Tara in the room. Sidney walked in not long after, a sad smile on her face as she saw you in the hospital bed.

“You’ve grown up so much,” she said, walking over to you, “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks, Sid,” you said softly, “How are the kids?”

She smiled at you, “They’re fine. They’re somewhere safe.”

“I wish I was somewhere safe,” you joked, as your mom rolled her eyes.

“You had the chance to come to New York,” she sighed, “If you would’ve just listened to me and your dad then maybe we wouldn’t be in here right now.”

“What, and dad wouldn’t be dead, too?” you snapped, looking towards her.

“I didn’t say that…this whole ‘you hating me’ thing isn’t going to work. We need to be there for each other.”

You were about to respond when a detective came in to talk to your mom. She stepped out with Sidney, walking to the next hallway over so you wouldn’t hear the conversation.

“Now’s our chance,” Tara said, as Sam looked between you two, confused.

“Chance for what?”

“We’re sneaking her out with us,” Tara said, wincing as she pulled her IV out.

“What the fuck are you doing? You haven’t been discharged yet,” Sam sighed, looking over to see you doing the same. “I’m not kidnapping you, I’m sorry.”

“Look, we want to be somewhere safe. She isn’t going to be safe if she stays here and we go. Her mom’s barely paid attention to her since we’ve been in here…if you want me to go, she’s going too,” Tara said, as Sam sighed, looking over to Richie. He shrugged, walking over to the door to peak out.

“No cops, no Gale,” he said, as Sam rolled her eyes.

“Fuck it, fine. You both better hurry up though.”

You did as Sam said, the both of you quickly changing before sneaking past the nurses’ station towards the exit.

After your mom and Sidney finished talking to a detective in the next hall over, she came back to see your bed empty. She started to panic, noticing your IV line resting on top of the bed and most of your stuff gone. She looked over to the other side of the room, realizing that Tara was gone, too.

“Excuse me, where did they take my daughter?” Gale asked one of the nurses that’d passed by the doorway.

He grabbed an iPad off the nurse’s station, trying to pull you up. “She doesn’t have any testing or anything scheduled…she’s not in her room?” He craned his neck to peak around, noticing the empty bed.

“She’s a minor, isn’t there some kind of alert you guys have for this?!” She yelled, as the nurse nodded.

“I’ll take care of that right away.”

It didn’t matter, though. You’d already made it out of the hospital by the time the code was called.

“Where do you think she went?” Sydney asked, as your mom tried to rack her brain.

“I’m not the mom of the year, okay? I barely know her anymore,” she sighed, as Sidney sympathetically smiled at her.

“Whatever happened, now that Dewey’s gone, you’re going to have to fix that relationship,” she said, as your mom nodded. “She’s a good kid.”

“I know, I just hope she’s okay.”

When you were in the back seat with Tara, her asthma was flaring up as she tried to find her inhaler.

“Fuck, I don’t have it,” she panicked, as Sam looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“Can you wait until we’re in the next town?” she asked, as Richie glanced back to see Tara’s breathing getting worse.

“No…this is getting bad,” you said, trying to search Tara’s purse again. “Do you still have the spare one at Ambers?”

“Yeah, Sam, we need to go to Amber’s,” Tara said, as Sam shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said, her lack of understanding for how bad the situation was starting to piss you off.

“She’s going to be dead by the time we get to the next fucking town. Go to Amber’s,” you yelled, as Sam hesitantly nodded. “Turn left up here.”

As your mom and Sidney searched around the hospital hoping to find you, she remembered the app Dewey put on your phone so he’d always know where you were. He gave her the log-in too just in case she ever needed it. She quickly pulled her phone out, checking to see what your location was as Sidney looked at her.

“She’s not even here,” Gale said, as she and Sidney bolted towards the exit.

Once they made it in the car and started to drive, your mom was looking at the tracking app, noticing that you’d stopped.

“Turner Lane, why does that sound so familiar?” she asked, as Sidney’s eyes grew wide.

“Please don’t tell me that’s where she is,” Sidney said, pressing the gas a little harder, “Stu Macher used to live on Turner Lane.”

“Oh fuck,” Gale said, as she tried to call you.

Your phone was on silent in your pocket as you went up to Amber’s room. The party downstairs was in full swing as you tried to help your girlfriend search for Tara’s inhaler.

“Are you okay?” Amber asked, “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you sighed, thinking about him as you dug through a box on top of Amber’s dresser. “Found it!” you held up the inhaler as she smiled.

“Can you please call me when you make it to wherever you’re going so I know you’re safe, please?” she asked, as she stepped towards you.

“Yeah, I just need to get the fuck away from my mom for a few days.”

She nodded in understanding as you ran out of her room, down the stairs to find Tara.

“Stupid bitch,” Amber muttered, once she knew you couldn’t hear her.

After you gave Tara her inhaler, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to see twenty missed calls from your mom.

“Jesus, someone’s freaking out,” you said, showing Tara the screen.

“Maybe you should call her back. Just let her know you’re okay.”

“Fine,” you sighed, but before you had the chance to call her, she was calling you again.

You answered, “Hey mom, I’m fine-“

“You need to get the fuck out of that house right now!” she yelled, the second she heard your voice.

“How do you know where I am?” you questioned, annoyance in your tone as she started to yell again.

“You’re in Stu Macher’s house,” your heart started to race as you looked over to Sam, Tara, and Richie. You’d heard that name many times before. You started to look around, thinking about how the party at his house was the finale of the first Woodsboro Massacre where your dad was stabbed.

“We need to get out of here, right now,” you said to them, as Richie started to smirk.

“Did someone finally figure it out?” he asked, the psychotic excitement in his voice making your skin crawl.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, jumping as you heard a gunshot coming from the living room, accompanied by several screams. “What the fuck is going on?”

Sam and Tara started to back away from Richie as you looked at him.

“God, you know, you guys really are the perfect victims. Serial killer dad,” he said, looking to Sam, “oblivious little sister,” he said to Tara, before turning to you, “and the child of the sheriff that tried to take down Billy and Stu. It’s hilarious. You get to die where he should’ve.”

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, as he started to step towards you.

“You want to know what the best part of this whole little fucked up scenario is, though?” he asked, as Amber walked into the room. “I’ve been fucking your girlfriend.” Sam glanced over to you, the obvious look of disgust and betrayal painted on both of your faces.

Your mouth dropped as you looked over to Amber. “Sorry, baby,” she said, so nonchalantly that your blood was starting to boil. You shook your head as you thought back to your dad telling you that you probably knew who was responsible for everything.

“Did you kill my dad?” you asked Amber as she shrugged, muttering “Maybe,” as you stepped towards her.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Richie said, pulling out a knife and pointing it at you as Sam and Tara started to back away, looking at you. You nodded towards the side door as Amber walked up to kiss Richie.

While they were distracted, you glanced along the counters to see if there was anything you could use that would be helpful. You saw the knife block, and as the rage started to build up even more towards Amber for stabbing you and killing your dad.

You subtly grabbed a knife from behind you, and started to step towards them as you held it firmly in your hand behind your back.

“Where did the other two go?” Amber asked, pulling away from Richie as he turned around to look.

“I’ll go find them,” he said, waving his knife around. “Don’t try anything. She doesn’t love you enough to save you.”

As soon as he walked away, you looked at Amber. “Is that true? You don’t love me enough to save me?”

“I never fucking loved you. God, I only wanted to get close to you and your friends. It amazes me how stupid you are,” she scoffed, as you stepped even closer, “What are you going to do? I was stronger than your dad, you dumb bitch. Do you really think you’re going to win in a fight against me?”

“I don’t need to be stronger than you,” you smiled, “Because you’re the one that doesn’t have a knife right now.”

As soon as you pulled the knife from behind your back, she darted towards the gun on the kitchen island. You were quicker though, stabbing her before she was able to grab it. She dropped to her knees as she held her stomach. In that moment, she looked weak and helpless. You couldn’t shake the thought that she had your dad feeling that way when she killed him.

“Baby, why would you do that?” she asked, her psychotic eyes pleading with yours.

You looked down at her, the fury in your eyes obvious as she tried to plead with you.

“How the fuck could you do this to me? To my fucking dad?!”

“Oh, please. You knew he was a shitty dad,” she scoffed, before whining again at the pain she was feeling. “I got him good, too. I just wish you could’ve seen it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you screamed, as you stabbed her again.

Richie ran back in the room with Tara and Sam, noticing Amber on the floor and the large, bloody knife in your hand. You started to run towards him, thinking you could finish all of this. You didn’t though, because as soon as you made it to Richie, he plunged his knife into your stomach several times.

“No!” Tara screamed, as you dropped to the floor, blood immediately pooling beside you on the floor. You heard Tara’s cries as your vision started to get fuzzy.

“You really thought you were going to do something with that, didn’t you?” Richie laughed, “I’m sure your mom will be here soon, and you’ll get to be with both of your parents after I’m finished with her. Now’s a good time to thank me.”

“Fuck you,” you said weakly, as you started to lose consciousness.

“Oh, look at all that blood,” was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

You woke up in the hospital several days later with your mom and Sidney sitting beside your bed. You groaned as your eyes tried to adjust to the fluorescent lighting.

“Hey,” your mom said, “They weren’t sure when you’d wake up.”

“Lights,” you choked out, your voice raw.

“Try not to talk a lot, okay?” Sidney said, as she got up to flip the switch. “You almost didn’t pull through. They had to intubate you for surgery.”

You laid there in silence for a few minutes, like your brain was trying to process everything that happened. The heart rate monitor started to beep faster as you thought about your dad and the rest of your friends. Your breathing got heavier, as you started to shake your tingling hands.

Your mom went out to grab a nurse, who rushed in to check on you.

“Let’s give you something to help you calm down,” she said, pulling out a syringe. She injected medication into your IV as you tried to take deep breaths in comparison to the shallow ones you kept sucking in.

“What’s going on?” your mom asked, as the nurse turned to look at her.

“She’s having a panic attack. It’s normal after trauma like what she went through,” she said, before turning to you, “Would you like some water?”

You nodded, as she stepped out of the room. She came back a few minutes later with your water and one of the doctors.

“We’re going to suggest lots of therapy,” the doctor said, as she looked over at your dazed expression from the meds. “Physical and mental. It’s going to be a long road, just be patient with her.”

“I’m going to take her back to New York with me. If you have any recommendations for doctors out there, I’d appreciate it,” Your mom said, as the doctor nodded.

“I’ll be right back.”

As you sipped the water, it started to soothe your dry, irritated throat. After the doctor walked back in with the list of doctors in New York, you tried to speak.

“Tara?” you got out, as your mom smiled.

“She’s okay. Sam is too.”

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re okay. Chad was a little touch and go at first, too. He’s in the next room over,” she said, as you started to smile.

You were devastated about your dad and Wes but knowing that most of your friends survived gave you an ounce of hope that everything would be okay.

Once you’d healed enough to leave the hospital, you had a tearful goodbye with everyone as you prepared to go to New York.

“I hope you were serious about Blackmore…we all kind of applied,” Tara said, as Mindy nodded.

“Seriously? That would be so cool,” you said, smiling. “I’d love to have you guys close by.”

Your mom stood by and watched as Sam walked up to talk to her.

“I know Tara will most likely get in, she’s a smart one,” Sam said, with a small laugh. “If you can think of any safe areas for us to live, let me know.”

“You’d be coming with her?” your mom asked, as Sam nodded.

“I’m never letting her out of my sight,” she sighed, “I’m so sorry for your loss, with Dewey. If it wasn’t for him, we probably wouldn’t have made it through the attack at the hospital.”

“Thank you…I’m just sad he won’t get to see all the great things I know she’s going to do with her life.”

After a few months of living in New York, you started to get adjusted. You had physical therapy three times a week and had to see your psychiatrist at least once a week, but you felt like you were starting to find yourself again, aside from struggling with anxiety and PTSD. Your mom’s boyfriend, Brooks, was even starting to piss you off a little less. You’d had several conversations with him about your dad, and he was trying to step up. He didn’t want to take your dad’s place by any means, but he was trying so hard to be a trusted male figure in your life, aside from Chad, who was still on the opposite side of the country.

On your eighteenth birthday, Tara FaceTimed you. You were smiling so big when you saw all of your friends, their own version of a surprise party making your heart swell. That’s the day they told you they all got into Blackmore, and you started to count down the days.

“Mom, don’t you think I should get the full college experience?” you sighed, as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re not staying in a dorm, and that’s final,” she said, as you glanced over to Brooks.

“I can’t help you with this one. You know your mom has her mind made up,” he said, as he leaned against the kitchen island.

“Whatever,” you huffed, walking towards your room.

Your mom and Brooks just looked at each other as she sighed in defeat.

“She might be annoyed with you right now, but she’ll get over it,” he said, wrapping his arm around her.

“I hope so, I’m getting sick of all the teen angst,” she said, laughing a little.

“How’s her therapy been?”

“She said it’s going well. They’ve really been unpacking the Amber stuff…I just hope she’s able to trust someone again someday.”

“She will.”

Once your friends made it to New York, your mom let you go out and explore the city for the first time without her. She was nervous, regularly checking her phone just to make sure you were okay. She knew your therapy sessions were helping, but you still had your panic attacks and your body wasn’t the strongest yet.

As you walked along the sidewalk with your friends, Chad noticed a comic book store a little further up the street.

“Can we check that out?” he asked, as you nodded.

“This is the same dorky shit you did in Woodsboro. Don’t you want to do something else?” Mindy asked, as her brother scoffed.

“Nope. I’ve already gone into three different clothing stores with you guys AND found my perfect foundation match while you guys were shopping for makeup. You owe me,” he said, making you and Tara laugh.

“Fine, let’s go,” Tara said, before turning to look at you. “Let me know whenever you need to sit down, okay?”

“I will. Let’s get food after this. I can rest while we eat,” you said, as Tara nodded.

When you walked inside, you all went your separate ways as you started to browse around the store. Chad was in heaven, while everyone else was just there to kill the time. As you were walking along one of the rows, you started to get one of your reoccurring abdominal cramps from where you were stabbed. You leaned over, holding your stomach as you tried to breathe through it.

“Hey, are you okay?” you heard a male voice speaking to you, as you groaned out a “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he said softly, as he squatted to talk to you. “Do you need something? Can I call someone for you?”

“I promise I’m okay. Just a bad cramp.”

You soon heard Tara mumble “Oh shit” as she and Mindy ran up to you.

“What happened?” Mindy asked, looking over to the boy.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I just saw her doubled over like this.”

The pain started to ease up, as you tried to stand back up.

“Fuck, that was a bad one,” you sighed, as your eyes connected to the person that was trying to help you.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, looking you over. You couldn’t form words after you saw him. He was your type, and his sweet, shy demeanor was just a plus. Mindy and Tara noticed you checking him out as he kept staring at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m Ethan, by the way.”

“Hey,” you finally spoke, as Tara and Mindy inched away from you so you could talk to him. “Thanks for trying to help.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, as he started to flip through some of the comic books. “Do you go to Blackmore?”

“I’m about to,” you said, as he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re a freshman, too?”

“Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I have all my hometown friends with me, so I know it’ll be fun,” you said, as you started to point them out.

“Chad? That’s what my roommate’s name is,” he said, looking towards him. “Wait, that’s him!”

“Oh, small world,” you said, “Hey, Chad!”

He turned around, smiling when he noticed his new roommate standing there.

“Dude, I didn’t know you were into stuff like this!” Chad said, as he walked up.

“Yeah, I’m a little bit of a dork, I guess,” Ethan laughed, as they started to geek out over stuff they’d found.

“How do you two know each other?” Chad asked curiously, as Ethan smiled.

“I just met her. She seems cool,” he said, “Have you guys been friends for a long time?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other since elementary school. We grew up in this crazy, fucked up little town,” Chad said, as your eyes got wide.

“It wasn’t that bad,” you said, trying to play it off as Chad looked at you in disbelief.

“Yeah, Woodsboro was a walk in the park,” Chad said sarcastically, as you tried to change the subject.

“Can we go get food soon? I’m starving,” you said, as Chad nodded.

“Sure. Ethan, you want to go to lunch with us?”

“I wish I could, but I have to run by the book store. Maybe some other time, but I’ll see you later,” he said to Chad, before smiling at you. “It was nice to meet you. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

“I hope so,” you said, your tone flirty as Chad looked between the two of you.

Ethan walked up to the counter to pay for his stuff, as Chad turned to you.

“What was that all about?” he asked, as you jokingly glared at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot roommate?!”

After that day, Chad made it his personal mission to get to know Ethan as well as he could, because he didn’t want you to go through another traumatic relationship. Once he realized that Ethan truly was this shy, dorky guy, he started to bring him around the friend group. The two of you immediately hit it off, and he loved to spend time with you.

Once the relationship started to get a little more serious, he began asking about Woodsboro. After that day at the comic book store, he did his research, but he still had so many questions. He knew you were hurt in some way, because of all the appointments you had, and the random sharp cramps you’d get from time to time. He noticed that you’d always try to push through pain, and he just wanted to have a better understanding of everything.

The last thing you wanted to do was think about what’d happened the year before, let alone talk about it. You had several insecurities about yourself, the scars all over your abdomen being one of the major ones. But you hated feeling weak. You hated that you were struggling to keep up with the high energy your friends and boyfriend had. You hated feeling like you just slowed everyone down.

Ethan didn’t care, though. He was always comforting and okay with taking breaks, or even cutting a date night short if you started to get anxious. He knew he loved you, but he was too shy to say it. He didn’t want to pour his heart out and you say it’s something you weren’t ready for yet.

Your mom was a little skeptical of Ethan. It wasn’t that he’d given her a reason to be, she just wanted you to always be cautious, especially after your last relationship. It got to the point where you’d have to sneak Ethan over whenever your mom and Brooks weren’t home.

“Hey, baby,” Ethan said, as you opened the front door.

“Hi,” you smiled, as he leaned in to kiss you. “Let’s go to my room.”

What was supposed to be the two of you just hanging out led to him on top of you on your bed, your hands in his hair as he kissed you. Your shirt was starting to inch up, his hand roaming over your stomach when you pushed him away.

“Stop,” you said, once you noticed him leaning back down to kiss you again.

“What did I do?” he asked, as you scooted away from him. “Baby, I don’t want to pressure you into talking about things you don’t want to, but you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t want you touching me like that,” you said, your eyes not meeting his as he tried to understand.

“You’re my girlfriend…this is what people in relationships do,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. “If you’re not ready for sex, that’s fine. I just don’t get what the big deal is with me touching you. You never talk to me about it.”

“I think you should go,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” he said, standing up. “You just keep shutting down whenever there’s something we need to talk about. You’re so secretive about what you’ve been through. I feel like I barely know anything about you.”

“Are you saying you want to break up?” you asked, your eyes watering as he shook his head.

“No, babe. I care about you so much…but you don’t trust me. I know something horrible happened to you in Woodsboro, and all I want is to be the supportive boyfriend that you deserve, but I can’t be that for you when you won’t talk to me. I’ve even tried to ask Chad, just so I understand, but he’ll only talk about what happened to him.”

“So, you’ve been trying to get stuff out of Chad because I won’t tell you about it?” you questioned, the pissed expression on your face making him tense up. “I’m not ready to talk to you!”

“Call me when you are,” he said, walking towards your bedroom door.

You felt a panic attack creeping up the second he walked out. You grabbed your anxiety medication and took a pill out, hoping that it would kick in soon. Your hands were shaky as you tried to take it, the water you were trying to drink spilling all over your shirt.

“Fuck,” you muttered, your breathing heavy as you jumped up to grab another shirt to change into.

The second you got the wet one off, Ethan walked back in the room.

“I forgot my phone,” he mumbled, before he saw you. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scars all over your abdomen, feeling sick to his stomach that someone could ever do something like that to you. “Baby…”

“Get the fuck out!” you screamed, as he scrambled to grab his phone off your bedside table. “Now, Ethan! Go!”

You quickly pulled the dry shirt over your head, as he glanced back over to you once more. You were sobbing as he tried to step closer, wanting to comfort you.

“Don’t come near me, Ethan! Go!” you yelled again, as he hesitantly turned around and walked out.

You followed him to the front door, slamming it behind him. You put your back against the door before sliding down it, as you pulled your knees to your chest as you cried.

When your mom got home later in the day to take you to your psychiatrist, you didn’t feel like going. You were still upset from the situation with Ethan earlier in the day, so once she started to argue with you that you needed to go, it got explosive.

“What is wrong with you today? You’ve been making such good progress!” your mom yelled, as you started to pace the floor.

“What’s wrong with me?! I was almost killed, mom! I have these fucking scars all over me that remind me of what I went through every fucking day!” you screamed, as tears started to run down your cheeks. “I have a great boyfriend, someone who really cares about me, and I can’t fucking trust him because of what Amber did to me! Then, he saw my scars earlier and looked at me like I was a fucking victim and I’m sick of feeling that way!”

“Wait, how did he see your scars? What have you been doing when I’m not here?” she questioned, as you stopped your pacing.

“That’s what you took from all that I just said?!” You asked, as Brooks walked in. “I’m not having sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. I want to, though! I want to be able to trust Ethan enough to do that, but I’m too fucked up for that to happen!”

Your mom just looked at you as Brooks tried to calm you down.

“Hey, I know this is none of my business, and I’m sorry for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong…but have you talked to your therapist about Ethan?”

“Not really. He’s only come up a few times,” you sighed, wiping your tears. “I was hoping I could work through things with him on my own, but I still haven’t told him anything that happened. He’s trying so hard, too. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“That kid really cares about you. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about the best way to open up to him,” he said, as you nodded. “I don’t want you to feel like everyone that comes in your life is going to do what Amber did to you.”

Your mom smiled at the interaction, loving how close you were getting to him. His calm demeanor helped so much in diffusing your anxiety.

“Can we still make it to my appointment in time? Or is it too late?” you asked your mom, as she pulled out her phone to check the time.

“We can still make it, we need to leave right now, though.”

“You two get out of here, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back,” Brooks said, pulling you into a side hug as he walked you towards the door.

During your appointment, your doctor recommended that you take a week off from school, just to focus on your mental health. Your professors were very understanding, you just hoped your boyfriend would be, too. You needed to clear your head as you tried to think of the best way to unpack all the trauma with him. You decided to leave your phone off, only turning it on every now and then to let Tara know you were okay.

Ethan was freaking out. When all his calls went straight to voicemail, and you stopped coming to school, he started to think the worst. He knew that you were upset with him, and he felt awful that him seeing you without a shirt affected you as much as he did. Regardless of the scars, he still thought you were beautiful. He finally brought it up to the rest of the friend group and was relieved when Tara said that you were okay.

That’s when he thought about doing something sweet for you. He wanted you to feel better, and he desperately wanted you to forgive him. He went to the mall with Chad, wanting to find some of your favorite things to bring to you.

“What about this?” Chad said, as he walked with Ethan through the party store. Ethan wanted to find you the sweetest card to go with the things he’d bought you, but Chad had other ideas when he pointed to a huge balloon. Ethan rolled his eyes as he looked over to Chad. “What? I don’t think anything says ‘I love you’ like a massive balloon that literally says ‘I love you’.”

“Dude, I don’t want this to be cheesy. I want her to know how I feel without making her cringe,” Ethan said, “Do you think she’ll even answer the door when I try to take this stuff to her?”

“I can’t say for sure. She hasn’t spoken to me in a week.”

“At lease she talks to Tara, so we know she’s alright.”

Ethan was nervous as he walked into the elevator and selected the floor that your mom’s condo was on. He knew your mom and her boyfriend’s work schedule from the times you’d invited him over, so he knew you should be home alone, if you’d even open the door for him.

He stood outside the door and took a deep breath before knocking. After a few minutes of you not answering, he sat the stuff outside of the door, hoping you’d want to talk after you eventually saw it. He went back to the elevator and pressed the button, waiting for it to come back to the floor he was currently on.

Once the door opened, he saw you standing there.

“Ethan? What are you doing here?” you asked, as he stepped to the side for you to walk off the elevator.

“Oh, uh, I just dropped some stuff off for you. It’s in front of the door,” he said shyly, as you smiled at him.

“That’s really sweet, Ethan. I was actually going to call you and ask if you wanted to come over. I just left therapy, and I’m in a good head space right now. I think I’m ready to talk,” you said, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s a little heavy, and I might not go too far into detail, but I want you to know some of what I went through.”

“I’m here to listen,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb against the top of your hand as you walked towards the door.

“Aww, this is so cute!” you squealed, looking down at the basket before you unlocked the door. You were about to bend down to grab it before he beat you to it. “Thanks, babe.”

You walked with him to your room, noticing the card. You grabbed it out of the basket as soon as he sat it down, but he took it from you before you could open it.

“Hey!” you laughed, trying to take it back from him.

“This card has some things in it that are important, but not as important as you telling me what you need to tell me,” he said, smiling as he sat it back in the basket. “You can read this after we talk, deal?”

“Deal,” you said, flopping back on your bed as he laid down beside you.

You both stared at the ceiling as he waited for you to start talking, but you didn’t know where you wanted to start. You were almost scared of what he’d think after you told him everything, but you knew in your heart that he’d still care about you regardless.

“So…I know I told you about my dad dying. He was killed last year when my ex and the guy she was cheating on me with went on a killing spree,” you said, as he sat up on his elbows to look at you as you spoke. “She killed my dad after she stabbed me. Her boyfriend really did the most damage to me though. I’ve been really self-conscious about all the scars I have. That’s why I stop you whenever things start to get a little handsy.”

He stayed silent for a minute, just soaking in all the information you’d told him. He was furious that anyone would ever hurt you, but he was hiding it well.

“It’s no wonder you’ve been a little hesitant to trust me,” he sighed, looking back at the ceiling. “I’m sorry I walked in on you. I really thought you were done with me after you yelled at me like that and didn’t want to talk to me.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you, I just wanted to get my feelings and my thoughts together. I knew I needed to open up to you, especially after you saw everything.”

“I just wanted to understand, you know? You’ve just been so vague about everything. I’m happy you’re opening up,” he said, laying back down. “I’m sorry if you ever felt pressure about the sex stuff, too. I promise you that’s not what I was trying to do, and I’d wait forever if I needed to.”

“I don’t think we need to wait forever,” you said, rolling over to your side to look at him. “I’m ready now, actually.”

He curiously looked at you, before he started to shake his head.

“Baby, I want you to fully trust me before we do anything like that.”

“I just gave you the short version of everything that caused my trauma. I trust you,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

He kissed you back, the sweetness of it making your heart swell, like you knew he was the person you were meant to lose your virginity to. Once the kiss got more intense and your hand started to run under his shirt, he gently pushed your hand away.

“Wait, I need you to read the card,” he said, before you connected your lips to his again.

“Right now?” you asked, pulling away.

“Please. You’ll want to read it before we do this.”

You slid off the side of the bed and walked over to the basket and grabbed the card. Ethan wasn’t nervous at all as you sat down beside him and opened the envelope that contained his true feelings for you. He knew if you were ready for sex and felt comfortable enough to finally tell him about what you’d went through, that you probably felt the same way he did.

“This is really sweet,” you said, reading through everything he wrote. “Wait…”

You turned to look at him after you’d made it to the end of what he wrote, as he smiled at you.

“I love you, babe.”

“Seriously?” was all you said, your eyes starting to water as Ethan suddenly felt like maybe it was a little too soon for him to say it when you didn’t say it back.

“Yeah, it’s how I feel. If you aren’t ready for that-“

You cut him off my kissing him. “I love you, too,” you mumbled against his lips.

He pushed you back on the bed as he smiled down at you.

“You are sure, like one hundred percent sure you want to do this?” he asked, as his hand started to rub your thigh over your jeans.

“I’m positive. I want to do this with you.”

He leaned down to kiss you as his hands just kept rubbing against you. You didn’t feel self-conscious like you had before, and you were excited to share this experience with someone that loved you.

“Is it okay if I take your shirt off of you?” he asked, waiting for you to consent before he did it. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable.

You paused and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

The second your shirt was over your head, you noticed Ethan’s gaze on all your scars. You tried to cover them with your hands before he pulled them away.

“Stop, baby. You’re beautiful,” he said, running his hands across them.

He leaned down to start kissing your neck, his curls tickling you as you started to giggle.

“Am I absolutely awful at this or something?” he asked, as your fingers started to run through his hair.

“No babe, you’re tickling me, but it feels good,” you said, squirming a little underneath him once he found your sweet spot. “It really feels good.” He smirked against you as you started to let out heavy breaths. “I think your shirt should come off, too.”

He pulled away to take his shirt off before he leaned down to kiss you again. Your hands started to run along his back as he melted into your touch.

You leaned up a little as you felt his hands try to snake around you to unhook your bra. He fumbled with it for a minute, making you laugh into the kiss.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said, jokingly glaring at you as you smiled at him. He finally got it unhooked, sliding the straps down your arms as he pulled it off you. “Are you going to laugh at me the whole time?”

“No, babe,” you said, biting your bottom lip to hold in your giggles. You didn’t have to for long though, your mouth falling open as you gasped when he took one of your nipples into your mouth. He alternated between licking and sucking, before he moved to the other side. “That feels so good.”

He pulled away and smiled at you, “If you want to stop at any point, let me know. I’m not going to get mad, I just want you to be okay.”

“Thank you, baby. I know you won’t hurt me,” you smiled, reaching up to run your hand through his hair as his eyes fluttered at the feeling.

He leaned down again with your fingers still tangled in his hair, as he started to place kisses along your stomach. He paid extra attention to your scars, now knowing the dark story of how you got them. You looked down at him as he started to unbutton your jeans.

“I love you, baby.” He said, as he started to pull them down your hips. “Your body is so beautiful. Please don’t ever think that it’s not, okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed, as his hands started to run up your bare thighs.

“Can these come off?” he asked, rubbing your panties along your hips.

“Yes,” you said, as he smiled at you.

“You know I have no idea what I’m doing, so please let me know if anything I do hurts.”

“Ethan,” you sighed, as his eyes connected with yours. “Just do what you think feels right, and I’ll let you know how it feels.”

“Okay, baby,” he said, as his hand ran up your inner thigh, and over your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling, as he kept rubbing you. “Can I taste you, babe?”

“Please,” you said, as he leaned in. His tongue gently licked your clit, as your hand started to run through your hair. “That feels…fuck.”

His mouth started to move faster when your moans got a little louder, loving all the sounds he was pulling from you. His cock was straining against his jeans, but that was the last thing he wanted to focus on. He just wanted to keep making you feel good.

“Can you use your fingers, too?” you asked, your chest heaving as his finger started to brush against your entrance. You gasped when he slid it inside of you, pumping it in and out.

He pulled his mouth away to watch you, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

You whimpered at his words as his fingers started to curve a little. “Oh shit,” you whined, as he slowed his fingers.

“You okay?” he asked, trying to ready your face, scared that he’d hurt you.

“That felt good, keep doing that,” you said, gasping as his finger moved quicker. “You can use two.”

He added another finger and moved them against that spot as he leaned down to focus on your clit with his mouth.

“Fuck, a little faster, baby,” you moaned, feeling that coil in the pit of your stomach getting tighter.

He did as you said, before he switched from licking your clit to sucking on it.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, your legs starting to jolt. He gasped as your pussy started to contract around his fingers. He didn’t want to stop his actions too quickly, so he just kept going until you started to pull away. You were letting out shaky breaths as he sat up to look at you, the blissful expression on your face making him smile.

“Did that feel good?” he asked, as you smiled and nodded with your eyes closed.

“That was perfect, babe.”

He curled up on the bed beside you, caressing everywhere he could reach as he waited for you to tell him it was okay to go further. He noticed the gasp that slipped past your lips when his hand ran over one of your breasts, so he started to massage it.

“Baby, I’m not trying to rush you, but my mom will be home soon,” you said, smiling at him. “I really don’t want this to get interrupted.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, sliding off the side of the bed to take his jeans off. You giggled at him as he smiled at you. “Sorry, I’ve been hard for so long.”

“It’s okay, babe. I love that you’re so excited,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, I’m excited to experience this with the person that means the world to me,” he said, as he grabbed a condom out of his wallet before he slid his boxers down. He was mumbling something to you, but you couldn’t focus as you stared at him, starting to get a little anxious. “Did you hear what I said?” he asked, as you shook your head. “I was just reminding you that if it’s too much, let me know.”

As he stood in front of you, you started to question if it would be too much. He opened the condom and rolled it on before he crawled back on the bed to hover over you.

“Can you go slow?” you asked, as he lined up with your entrance.

“Of course, baby. As slow as you want,” he assured you, as he started to push himself inside of you. He noticed you wincing at the pain, and even tensing up a little. He stilled, looking over your face. “Try to relax, baby.”

He didn’t move, he just waited for you to give him the okay. He leaned down to kiss you, as the pain started to ease.

“Keep going,” you said, as he slid in a little further. You tensed up again, so he just kept kissing you. He wanted you to know that this wasn’t just about him enjoying the experience. He wanted to take care of you. It was starting to get to the point where the pressure of him stretching you started to feel really good. “Can you move?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Uh, I’m almost all the way in…are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, as your lust-filled eyes looked into his.

“It’s not really hurting anymore,” you said, as he started to smile. He slid the rest of himself inside of you, a soft moan slipping past your lips. His hips slowly started to move as he looked down at you. He was internally screaming but was trying to play it as cool as you were. “Can you go a little faster?”

“Yes,” he said, but it really came out as a whimper as he started to move a little faster. You were just so warm and tight. It was better than he ever thought it would be. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So do you,” you moaned, as the tip of his cock started to hit the spongy spot inside you. “Fuck, Ethan,” you whimpered, as your hand reached down to rub circles on your clit.

“I love you so much, baby,” he whined out, as he started to go even faster. He didn’t know if it was going to be too much for you to handle, but the way you started to moan helped ease the anxiety he had about it.

“I love you, too,” you whimpered, feeling your second orgasm creeping up.

He started to get even more confident, angling your legs so he was able to go a little deeper. Your hands held on to his biceps as he looked down at you. He was trying so hard not cum, but the expressions on your face and the sounds you were making made it a lot harder for him.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, as he sighed in relief, knowing he didn’t have to hold back much longer. He groaned out the second your walls started to tighten around him, your hands shaking as the grip you had on his arms got tighter. He got you though it, speeding up a little as he chased his own orgasm.

His thrusts started to falter as his mouth fell open and his eyes began to flutter. You watched him though your post-orgasm haze, smiling as he opened his eyes to look at you. His chest was heaving, a goofy smile on his lips.

“That was a million times better than my hand,” he joked, making you laugh.

“It better be,” you said playfully, as you heard the front door open. “Shit.”

You and Ethan both jumped off your bed, your legs wobbly as you tried to find your clothes. You slid your panties back on as Ethan got his boxers and jeans back on. The second you got your shirt over your head, your bedroom door opened.

“Hey, there’s some people out here to see you,” your mom said, looking down at her phone as she walked into your room.

“Uh, mom,” you said, as she looked up at you.

“What the fuck is going on here?” she asked, noticing you without pants, Ethan shirtless, and the condom wrapper on your bedside table.

“Can we talk about this in a minute?” you asked, desperate for her to leave the room so you could finish getting dressed.

She huffed as she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Once you got your jeans back on, you heard your mom yell “I’ll kill him,” as Ethan looked over to you, terrified. You giggled as he slid his shirt over his head.

“It’s okay, babe. Hopefully Brooks will back me up,” you joked, as the both of you walked towards the door.

Your mom walking in was embarrassing enough, but when you walked out to see all the friends you hadn’t seen for a week sitting on the couch curiously looking at you and Ethan, your cheeks started to turn red.

“Oh, uh, hey guys. What are you doing here?” you asked, as Mindy pointed to the take-out bags on the kitchen island.

“Yeah, we wanted to surprise you and bring you food,” Chad said, before directing hit attention to Ethan. “I tried to text you a few times to invite you to come with us, but I understand why you didn’t respond.”

Ethan awkwardly laughed, before he noticed your mom glaring at him from the kitchen.

“Babe,” Brooks said, walking up beside her. “It’s okay.”

“You think me coming home to see my daughter and her boyfriend trying to put their clothes back on is okay?”

Mindy was trying to hold in her laughter, Chad was, too.

“Can’t we all just be happy that I trust Ethan, and finally told him everything?” you said, trying to play it off as a joke as your mom rolled her eyes.

“That’s a good point,” Brooks said, “That’s something she wasn’t able to do before.”

“Are you just going to back her up on everything?” your mom sighed, looking up at him.

“I just want you to see the positives,” he said, before gesturing over to Ethan. “He’s a good kid. He cares about her.”

“I really do,” Ethan said, finally speaking up.

“See? I know you’re still going to worry about her, but let her be happy,” Brooks said, as your mom started to walk over to you.

“You are going on birth control. And you,” she said, turning to Ethan, “If you hurt my daughter, I’ll kill you.”

“I won’t hurt her,” Ethan said, as she stared him down.

“You better not. Let’s eat before the food get’s cold.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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theredflagsjustlooklikeflags · 9 months

Note

Hello! Omg I'm so excited you're writing for death note! Can i get a gender neutral reader who maybe helps light or saves his life by pulling him out of the way of a car or something, and he becomes fixated on the and kind of like dedicates his cause as kira towards them?

Of course, love . Sorry for the delay. Death Note has always been one of my favorite shows to write for so I’m a more then thrilled to fulfill your request. Hope you enjoy the story!

Innocence (Yandere! Light Yagami X Reader)

Trigger warnings: I don’t think there are any for this story, but if I missed one, let me know)

Light Yagami needed to follow his normal routine and arrive home. He only had short amount of time where he could write names in the Death Note. Light was cleansing the world, one criminal at a time. In time, he will become the god of the new world.

Although, one thing always troubled him. When he did in fact elimante L, where would Light go from there?

The simple answer was he’d continue killing those making the world rotten and Kira’s reign would prosper.

Wouldn't it be lonely ruling the world by himself? Light never paid that idea much thought. He would never find someone who’d meet his ideals and intellect.

What Light didn’t account for was someone special making their way into his life.

The teenager was in deep thought as he made their way out of the school grounds in the pouring rain.

Without warning, a force hit Light. His umbrella went flying through the air until it cascades onto the drenched sidewalk. He braced himself and closed his eyes as he waited for the fall, but it never came.

Light cautiously opened his eyes to see what stopped him from landing on the ground. The seventeen year old wasshocked to find a good looking high schooler holding tightly onto his arm.

He noticed they were wearing a uniform extremely similar to his own. This mystery person had to have be attending the same school. They were very attractive so Light figured they were probably pretty popular. If that were the case, how come Light couldn’t recognize them. He knew everyone in his classes and he was certainly popular himself. The teen contemplated over the idea that they could be a transfer but Light came to the conclusion that that couldn’t have been the case. He’d be most likely been asked to show them around. The teen would nevee forget a persons face that was constructed like a god/goddess.

Once Light regained his composure, ( Reader) let go of him and leaned down to pick up Light’s discarded umbrella. They handed it out towards him and released an apologetic smile.

Once Light held the umbrella, the other person gave a low bow. They spoke softy, but Light could still hear them over the pitter patter of the rain.

“Please forgive me, Yagami-san. I apologize for hurting you. A car was swerving and looked like it was heading straight towards you.”

(Reader) was terrified to look up from their position. They’d figure Light would simply glare and start to reprimand them. They didn’t have much experience with popular kids.

“Oh, It’s alright, uh…” The teen trailed off, hoping the other would finish his sentence.

“(Reader’s full name).”

“That was very brave of you.” (Reader) looked up at him, puzzled.

“Thank you, but I’m sure anyone would of helped you. I’m no one special.”

“I’m not so certain of that.” Light smiled a bit.

Reader simply nodded in response. The teen expected that to be the end of their discussion with Light Yagami but he did something that shocked them.

Light held out the umbrella so it was protecting both (Reader) and himself from the downpour. This small act of kindness meant the world to (Reader), as they tended to always be ignored by their peers.

The high schooler motion for them to walk together.

How could they possibly refuse Light’s offer without looking rude? If Light Yagami thought (Reader) was rude then they could kiss the days of being a nobody goodbye. They didn’t know much about the teenage boy besides the fact that he was popular and top of the class in terms of intelligence. (Reader) feared they would become the topic of what those kids whisper in the hallway. They’d become the focus of their cold glares.

So they walked with Light.

The two students made causal conversation as they made their way down the street. At first it was awkward but soon they were joking with each other as if they were old friends. Light found out that (Reader) was in almost all of his classes. They explained how they tended ti keep quiet and lurk in the background.

Each word (reader) spoke, resulted in Light coming to the conclusion that made the type of person that Kira was trying to protect.

They were good,hard working, honest and most of all innocent.

He needed to protect them. No, Kira would protect (Reader) and those like them.

He may of just found his partner. Someone to rule the world with him.

“I can’t wait to make you mine, (Reader).” Light muttered to himself.

(Reader) pretended to be oblivious to what her new acquaintance said but in truth, they heard him and they didn’t know what to think.

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

“Oh, shoot, sorry. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”

Nico shifts, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The light in the infirmary is low, and strangely soothing. It’s almost hard to keep his eyes open. But he manages, rubbing his knuckles under the curve of his eyesockets, and searches in the dark until he finds what woke him up.

Will stands a couple feet away from his bed, figure curled and shadowy, owlish eyes wide and almost unnaturally reflective in the dark.

“‘S’okay,” he mumbles. “Couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly Nico feels warmer where Will has stepped closer. “You in pain?“

“No. Just bad at sleeping.”

“Hey, me too.”

Surprise at Will’s easy admission and a little bit starstruck at the bright flash of Will’s grin, Nico doesn’t have the chance to beat himself up over being so flippantly open. His teeth seemed to glow as much as the whites of his eyes, which would be creepy, except it’s hard to feel anything but calm as a cool night breeze wafts the scent of lavender from the sill planters in every inch of the infirmary, and it’s hard to think of Will as anything but warm. Especially the hand he places, briefly, on the curve of Nico’s knee.

“Insomnia?”

“Something like that.”

“Still. Sorry for waking you up.”

Nico hums, fiddling with his skull ring. “Why were you up, anyway?”

“Oh, I won’t have time to sleep for another couple days.”

There’s a mellow cracking sound, and then all of Will’s knuckles begin to glow a soft, sunset yellow. Nico startles.

“Apollo thing,” Will explains. A smirk is now visible at the corner of his mouth, forcing a dimple on his right cheek. In his hands, almost hard to see under the glow, are three small vials of something Nico doesn’t recognize. “Getting meds and salves in order.”

Hesitantly, Nico drags his gaze away from the clinking glass bottles, forcing himself to meet Will’s eyes. They’re ridiculously bright. Is that an Apollo thing, too?

“Why does that mean you can’t sleep?”

Will gestures to the myriad of occupied beds outside the curtains Nico has pulled up. “Shitton of injured, man. I got way more people than I got stuff. I prepped for the Romans beforehand, obviously, but I didn’t have a good hand on their numbers and didn’t prep enough. I’m short on supplies. Haven’t slept since Gaea did.” At Nico’s look of alarm, he quickly assures, “But don’t worry, I had Cecil brew me something strong. It’s disgusting, so I think it might be his Coffee Redbull Matcha Heartstopper Special, With A Shot Of Crushed Caffeine Pills For Good Measure, but I’m not sure. Hands are only a little shakey, though, feel.”

In a mirror of a few days ago (fuck, Nico hopes he’s kidding; how long can people go without sleep?), he darts out and rests his hands under Nico’s. Sure enough, they’re trembling, although nothing nearly as bad as before.

“Dangerous levels of sleep deprivation aren’t as bad as delivering a baby, huh.”

Will shudders. “Don’t even joke.”

He looks so genuinely horrified that Nico can’t help but laugh. All they’ve seen, all they’ve suffered — and golden boy is gagging at the miracle of life. If Nico wasn’t so sure that he’d seen at least as many gory nightmares as Nico, if not more, he’d tease him for being squeamish.

…Actually.

“What kind of school nurse wannabe is squidged out by birth?”

“Nurse?” Will squawks, snatching his hands away (Nico finds his own hands, strangely and suddenly, cold). “I didn’t go to seven years of med school to be called a school nurse wannabe!”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You didn’t go to med school. You’re fifteen.”

“As I said.” He grins teasingly. “I didn’t go.”

It takes Nico a second, but when he gets it he cannot physically hold himself back from kicking him. Solace, weak from muffled laughter, stumbles sideways into a lamp.

“Ay! Be careful, you wanna kill the camp’s only brain surgeon?”

“If he’s being annoying,” Nico bites back. He can’t quite stop smiling, and he’s embarrassed about it, but thankfully the darkness hides his face. “There’s no way you’ve done brain surgery.”

The shitty cot Nico’s been coerced into camping on for the next three days creaks as Will perches on the edge of it.

“Have so. In the woods, two years ago, removed a brain tumour. Stressful as shit.” He flashes another sideways grin. “Couple dozen more medical emergencies under my belt, and I might actually be as qualified as a nurse in this country’s garbage medical system. Thank the gods for them, honestly. They do a shit lot more than a lot of doctors claim to.”

Sensing the topic change for what it is, Nico doesn’t press any further. “That what you wanna do?”

“Aw, man, I don’t even want to think about it. The idea of someone else running this infirmary gives me a stress ulcer. Y’all do a lot of stupid shit and frankly some of the procedures I have performed exist in no medical textbooks anywhere, medical or no.” He snorts. “Anyways.”

His hands are blazingly warm again, almost like sun through a maginifying glass, when they pat his shin twice. He stands, stretching — more bursts of light appearing along the length of his spine, lighting what his fading knuckles leave out.

“Try to sleep again, Neeks. You’ll need it.”

“Maybe I should be the one to say that to you,” Nico says. Will waves his hand dismissively, and in a fit of impulse Nico reaches out and grabs it, meeting his raised eyebrow with a stubborn set to his jaw. “I mean it, Will. No one’s awake right now. I just woke up. Why don’t you crash for an hour or so? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Will hesitates. “If anything happens, that’s on me. It — I can’t let it be on me.”

“Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. Of course Will doesn’t trust him, Nico let someone die in front of his eyes, Nico is the bringer of death and darkness, why would he —

“Yeah.” Will sighs. Nico looks up, startled, but the medic is eyeing one of the few spare cots, face screwed up in consideration. “You’ll wake me?”

“Immediately,” Nico assures hastily. He nods his head at the bunk next to him. “Sleep, man. You look like you need it.”

“Oh, well, just what I’ve always wanted to hear from you. You look stunning, by the way.”

Nico knows it’s a joke, but he flushes anyway. Thank Hades again for the dark infirmary, and the length of his hair.

“Whatever. Sleep or don’t.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

In seconds he’s out of his flip-flops, slightly-scratchy blankets turned up and wrapped tightly around him all the way up to his neck.

“Thanks, Nico. I owe you.”

In the next breath, he’s out, all that’s visible of him the flutter of his light eyelashes and the tangled mop of blond hair. He snores, slightly, with every puffed exhale; a tiny, stuttered sound, not unlike a cat. It’s kind of cute, and Nico’s smiling before he realising.

“You don’t owe anybody shit.” He shakes his head fondly, leaning back onto his pillows to keep an eye out. “Goodnight, Will.”

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webslingingslasher · 9 months

Note

taylor swift song request lesgooo!!! end game from reputation where y/n has a really big reputation as a 'bad girl' and peter (good boy loml) ends up tutoring her, and sees she isn't all bad...

first off, i am so sorry this took so long, you may not even be on my page anymore, but this struck something in me & i couldn't stop.

second, i switched up the request a little because if you listen to the song, (in a non snooty way lmao) taylor is the one expressing she wants to be with this person but she has a bad repuation and everyone's heard about it, and it's a lot to commit to because of the talk surrounding her.

---------

Everyone had it wrong.

You were good. And kind. And smart. And talented. And confused. And lost. And just like every other kid in the school. You were good. You stayed to yourself. You didn’t gossip. You didn’t judge. You didn’t tattle. You were good.

So why did everyone hate you so much?

It was your brother’s fault. His reputation preceded yours and it ruined everything for you.

He was the one that picked fights.

He was the one that pushed teachers to the limits.

He’s the one that sold dope from his locker.

He’s the one that hooked up with a girl in the teacher's lounge.

And the third floor bathroom.

And the girls locker room.

And underneath the bleachers.

He’s the one that made everyone think you were just alike.

It ruined everything about high school so far.

Jokes, rumors, lost friendships, people refusing to date you.

It was childish and unfair. You wanted one person on your side, the one person you watched in class, the one person that was nice to you in a school of jekyll’s. And you couldn’t have him.

“Hey, still coming later?”

Peter Parker had a smile that could make the devil buckle. He was sugar, spice and everything nice. Long time crush, but the part where you’ve been smeared into a good for nothing whore, made nothing possible.

“You sure you still wanna do this? I don’t mind asking Mrs. Stu-”

Peter called your name like you were telling a joke, “it’s my honor to tutor you! Don’t blow me off.”

You want to protect him. You like him too much. He hangs around you long enough and accusations with his name start flying around with yours.

“If you’re so desperate,” grinning brightly, “I’ll see you later.”

Peter was so kind to tutor you. Your teacher asked on your behalf, she said she thought you’d be a good pair and you couldn’t deny the extra help, too bad Peter had to be the one on the chopping block. He was being a good samaritan and you knew what it would cause for him, even with the alone time you’ve been craving, you’d keep him pushed away at all costs.

You didn’t want the fallout to burn him, you’re used to the sting and he’s someone that shouldn’t feel anything but a loving touch.

Even if it would kill you, you’d have to pretend to be disinterested in Peter Parker and watch him walk away.

Oh, the things you do for love.

—------------

You’ve never felt so paranoid in your life. You swore everyone was looking at you, or maybe they were looking at Peter. Telling themselves it seemed fit that a nerd would be trying his shot with the school whore, because it’s not like you’d say no.

“Hi, can I sit?” Peter pointed at the patch of grass next to you, your eyes squinted as you looked up at him, it was hard reading his expression. You were the shade but he was standing under the sun, everything was washed out and too bright.

“Um, here?” you pointed at the same spot, taking a chance to look around, you felt eyes all over you. “Yeah, I mean, unless you want me here?” He pointed at a patch on the other side of you, “or here,” gesturing next to your feet, “you know what? You choose, I’m the guest.”

He’s so nice. Gentle, even. You hadn’t experienced someone so kind, so golden hearted, in a minute. His kindness shouldn’t be his weakness or his downfall. With one last scope of the scene you assume he could stay for a moment, at least you could figure out where to meet later.

You give Peter a smile and pat the first spot he pointed out, “you can sit,” answering his original question. His backpack hit the ground first, jimming himself closer to the tree behind you to rest his back on. Peter’s fingers picked pieces of grass, you assume in boredom.

“So,” you both speak at the same time, a soft exhaling laugh at the symmetry. You wave Peter along, the sooner he gets it out the sooner he can leave, the quicker he is with you the less he’ll be attacked.

“Wanna meet at the library?”

And have everyone see? Have his reputation smeared like your own? There’s a reason you don’t have many people around you, you can’t believe he doesn’t see it.

“No,” he’s taken a bit back by your blunt tone. Peter hums low, “your place?”

You scoff, “absolutely not.”

There’s no other option then, “alright, my place it is. Wanna come with me after school? We could take the bus, unless you prefer the subway.”

God, there’s nothing in the world you want more. It was too dangerous, if you got close enough it’d be too hard to rip it away. If you were seen leaving school with him, going to his house with him, it’d be over for him. You would give him the mark of cain.

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, you take your turn at plucking small weeds, avoiding his face. He’s hard to say no to.

“I can’t. But, I’ll come over tonight.”

You hate how happy he sounded when he answered, it was so unfair. You were a good kid, your brother was the bad one, but you dealt with all the repercussions. Your heart felt so weighed down, you wanted nothing more to reach out and hold Peter’s hand.

You wanted a boyfriend.

You wanted a friend.

You wanted love.

You wanted to feel accepted and heard and validated and supported by one person.

But you couldn’t have him.

“Cool. Wanna give me your number?” It’d be better than talking in person, easier to keep him away from you unless absolutely necessary. You nod, finally looking at him when you hand over your phone, he’s got a giant smile and you have to look back down at a patch of weeds with a single dandelion poking from it.

“Yours?”

Peter’s fingers brush yours when he hands his over, a warm jolt spreads down your wrist and into your elbow. It makes you feel alive, it’s a welcomed feeling. You try to forget it immediately.

His screen is cracked and scratchy as you type your number in, feeling him watch over your face you scan the crowd of people. You swear you see someone pointing, you shove his phone back in his hand, scrambling to stand.

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way, I have to go.”

He’s not allowed to care this much. It’s unfair.

“You don’t want to have lunch with me? I have half a sandwich if you want it, I know we only have like, ten minutes left but if you want it, it’s yours.”

‘If you want it, it’s yours.’

Does he mean it? Is there a limit to what could be yours?

Too bad you’ll never know.

“Thank you, but I can’t.” He almost looks disappointed, you have to stop making things up.

“You sure? I don’t mind sharing with you.”

You do. He can’t suffer the same consequences you do, it’s too isolating. Lonely. You were lonely. He doesn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll see you later, Peter.”

Peter takes his time unwrapping his homemade sandwich from cellophane, he takes a bite from half and moans, outstretching his hand with the other half, still wrapped up. “Here, take it to go. My aunt made it, if you try hard enough you can taste the love.”

He’s god damn irresistible.

You take his gift, slowly backing away, “thanks, I’ll search for it.”

Peter’s smile hurts your eyes, “good, it isn’t hard to find.” He’s adorable, even when he’s wrong.

It must be his superpower.

—-------------------

Peter’s aunt was two things.

A lot, and very kind.

You can see where Peter gets his aggressive pleasantry from, the moment she opened the door she was eager to please you. May wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug, her voice cheery in your ear.

“Oh my goodness, it is so nice to put a face to the name.”

Politely patting her back you swallow thickly, she’s heard all about you and your make believe history. She’s kind but you know in the back of her mind she’s hoping you’d leave her nephew alone, get what you need from him and leave.

“Nice meeting you too, you make a killer sandwich, by the way.”

She gasps, pushing you away by your shoulders, moving her head to catch her eyes. An unfamiliar smile crosses her face, you don’t know what it means but it feels as welcoming and radiant as Peter’s.

“Oh, good! He shared.”

May said it like it was planned, like she could tell you were confused she broke your attention away. “I made cookies, because everyone knows you need sugar to help you focus.” A wink, she was so gentle, it’s something about those Parker’s.

You play along, it’s nice to be welcomed for once. Even if it’s until you’re gone, the moment she tells Peter she knows all about you and to keep his distance.

“I think I read a story on that once, nine out of ten dentists agree, right?”

And just for a moment you let yourself dream, floating on your imaginary high of Peter Parker when his aunt laughs at your joke, her smile slowly dimming while she looks at your face, deep in thought. A confident head nod.

“Peter was right about you.”

You should take it negatively, but you don’t. There’s something about her that tells you she only means well. It must mean she hasn’t heard the bad things, but once she does, she’d be eating her words.

But damn, if you aren’t curious about what Peter said. Was he nice, did he hint at a crush, did he make his aunt believe you were someone you’re not?

“Peter was right about what?”

The devil himself appeared from nowhere, his body standing next to yours, so closely you can feel hints of his cotton zip up hoodie brushing your arms. You closed your eyes to breathe slowly, the sight of him with his hands flat on the kitchen counter, leaning his weight into the laminate, his hoodie strings dangling in a tempting way.

In a way you want to pull him closer by them, curling the fabric around your fingers and tugging him until his mouth is on yours.

You’re easy to read, you can see it on May’s face the second you open your eyes. You know in an instant she knows that you like her nephew. Even more surprisingly, she looks excited with the knowledge.

Her eyes flicker back to her nephew, “how lovely you said our guest was, what else did you say?”

You can see Peter freeze, “May,” it’s a warning tone. His aunt bulldozes, “wasn’t it something about how pr-” You don’t know what she says, Peter speaks over her. “May!” Jumping in your spot, caught off guard by his sudden tone and volume change, Peter moves a hand to your arm, “sorry,” it was delicate, it was him saying he was only sorry towards you, sorry for catching you off guard.

Fighting past his numbing touch, you smile, “it’s okay, I didn’t know you could be so stern.”

You need to see a therapist, because you swear you shared a moment. “Only when it’s something I’m passionate about.”

He’s talking about you, he has to be. You want him to be.

You have no idea how you’ll keep yourself from tying to him. But you’ll give it a fighting chance.

“You know what I’m passionate about?” Peter shakes his head, it’s hard to look away from his eyes, you never knew brown eyes could be so pretty. But you do, attention directed to fresh made chocolate chip cookies.

“Cookies.”

Peter won’t let you off that easy, “what kind?”

You bounce different flavors over in your head, “you’re opening pandora's box, parker. I mean, are we talking grocery store, homemade, or bakery?”

His arms crossed over his chest, “well, now I need to know every answer.”

You blow out a breath like you’re about to compete in the olympics, “alright, off the shelf grocery, you can’t go wrong with double stuffed oreos. But, personally, those keebler elves, with the fudge? I love em, my mom stopped buying them cause I’d eat half the pack in one sitting, so now my dad sneaks them to me. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong with those little bakery sugar cookies, you know, the ones that stick to the roof of your mouth?”

Peter bites back a grin, you weren’t lying, you really were passionate.

“I know what ones you’re talking about, they’re gross.” It’s the most offensive thing he could say to you. “You’re wrong, but okay.” He laughs, “opinions can’t be wrong,” you pull your head back, “they absolutely can, yours is proof.”

You look for support from his aunt but she’s long gone, you didn’t even see her back away.

Peter rolls his hand, amping you on, “homemade?”

You spit the answer quickly, “butterscotch oatmeal.” He’s never heard of them, or tasted them, but if you love them, he thinks he would too. “You’ll have to bring me some to try, they sound tempting.” Agreeing with him, “you’d never go back.”

“Bakery?”

“That’s the tricky one, it’s a rare find, not every place has them. But it’s my all time favorite flavor of anything ever made, s’mores.”

Peter loves it, your favorite treat was s’mores and it fit you.

His personal mission was tracking one down and bringing it to you.

“S’mores? Really?”

You nod, “really, really. If you find one you’ll have to try it, unless you have another wrong opinion and don’t like s’mores.”

“Nah, I love s’mores.”

Peter Parker was too good of a person to bring down. You need to shut down your admiration, because his alienation would hurt the most.

—---------------------

This wasn’t good. No, this was bad. This was really bad.

Peter Parker just called open season on himself and it was all your fault.

You should’ve refused for him to be your tutor, that was the mistake. The moment it was agreed upon it was over. You should’ve never gone over to his house, if you hadn't then you would’ve never told him about your favorite cookie, and he wouldn’t have gotten you one.

It happened in third period, he approached your seat and set a small white box in front of you. Your eyes flickered from the box to him several times before you asked, “what’s this?” A gift, you knew that much, he’s given you a gift and Jeffery Stewart was watching it go down. Peter would have an hour until he was tied to you.

“Open it,” slowly opening the cardboard your heart skips three beats, once for each cookie. You’ve never felt so seen, dare you even say loved? He listened, that’s what it was. He listened to you and he tracked them down and presented them to you, he was proud.

Peter Parker has made everything about your current life harder.

“Oh my god, where did you find these?”

He shakes his head, like it doesn’t matter where he sourced them, what matters is that he did.

“You were right, they’re hard to track down, it took me three days. Surprisingly, they’re mostly seasonal.”

You tsk, contemplating tearing one in half right now. “It’s so wrong, isn’t it? I mean, you can buy s’mores stuff all year long, so it doesn’t make sense.” Fuck it, it’s selfish, but he went above and beyond.

Splitting a cookie, you hand half over, cheersing yours with his. You throw your head back and hum the second you bite down, they’re the best ones you’ve ever had. You weren’t sure if it was because they were that good, or because it felt like they were purchased with care.

“Holy shit, Peter. These are unearthly.”

He’s in the same boat, he can understand why they’re your favorite now.

Nodding excessively, “my world has changed for the better.”

“Yeah, mine too.” It was a slip, you didn’t mean to say it. It came out without thinking, you said it sincerely, and he knows it. Peter finished the rest of his cookie and licked his thumb, “good, I’m glad to hear it.”

This was bad. This was very bad.

Because Peter Parker lays his hand on your desk and leans in, really closely, it makes you stop functioning all together. He needs to leave, he needs to back away, he needs to leave you alone. He doesn’t know what he's doing to himself, but you’re too selfish to stop it.

Even with Jeffery Stewart staring you down like a dog in heat, a wicked grin spreads while he ropes over the many rumors he’s about to flood the halls with.

“Wanna come over tonight?”

Lost in a world of a million thoughts, all of them being about the distance from his lips to yours. Blinking back to attention you groan, “I don’t really feel like studying tonight, my brain is mush.”

Peter nods, then moves in, just an inch closer, you feel like you’re about to die.

“Not what I asked.”

“I don’t-”

“I asked if you wanted to come over, not if you wanted to study.”

The room is spinning, everything is a blur. He’s flirting, Peter Parker is flirting with you in front of an audience. He’s fearless, it’s impressive. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your reputation, the things people say about you, the things you do.

Suddenly, a chill creeps up your spine. What if he knows exactly what people say, what if that’s why he’s being sweet, what if that’s why he’s acting like he cares? Fuck it, you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but privately, you don’t need any extra attention.

“Sure. Same time?”

“Same time,” it’s set in stone when the bell rings, Peter knocks his knuckles on your desk before he walks away. It’s unfair how much you hate to see him pull away from you.

—------------------

The upside to being cynical is that when things don’t work out, like you plan, you’re not that hurt, because you called it the whole time.

Just like Peter, you knew the second it circled back to him he’d be gone. It proved to be true when you heard mumbles by your locker, eyes flicking to you and back, quicker whispers shared.

From what you’ve gathered, either Peter has seen your nipple piercings or he’s given you nipple piercings. Not that you had them, but that didn’t matter. What now mattered was that Peter was directly tied to you and your boobs were involved, that’s enough alone for him to get a clap on the back while you’re being shamed for even acknowledging your body autonomy.

What a lame rumor, Jeffery Stewart could’ve gone to the moon with theories but this was the one he settled on? Usually he was a bit more creative, his last one ended up with you and the guidance counselor in the principal's office informing you that it was a safe space, and that if the school’s janitor came onto you it wasn’t your fault.

It took three weeks for people to totally forget it, but those few weeks you’d hear claps and wolf whistles when you passed by the janitor's closet made you feel like you were on the constant verge of vomiting.

Usually it wouldn’t bother you, but once they involved Peter’s name you felt sick. Everything you feared itching to life, and right when you heard a third possibility you couldn’t stay silent, slamming your locker door shut and giving wild eyes to the girl talking to her friend on your right.

“Which one is it, Lindsey? Was he holding my hand while I got them done, did he see them, or did he do them? I don’t know about you, but if I heard three totally different versions of a story I’d question the authenticity of the claim.”

It didn’t matter who was watching, you couldn’t hold it in.

You felt like you were on fire, you could see her sputter, like she didn’t expect you to call her out. You felt like the walls were closing in on you, she didn’t start the rumor but she was helping it spread and she was the closest person you could explode on.

“C’mon, Lindsey. Which one? I want to hear your side, unless you think it went down a totally different way. What? Scared to talk?”

Your throat’s closing, you can’t stop, you step closer, you shout at her.

“Which one, Lindsey!” The hall was dead silent, for the first time you had no cares about who was looking.

Her shoes squeak as she backs up, her eyes wide and blinking, a flash of terror, it makes you want to squeeze her and shake her, try to get her to understand this was what it felt like to be you.

“Fucking answer me!” Your voice cracked, she whimpered, fat tears falling.

“None! I don’t believe any of them!”

She doesn’t. You can see it written all over her face, she was just talking to talk, knowing you could hear every word she produced. It just made you feel sad.

“You can hunt other women as much as you want, Lindsey. But the collusion doesn’t save you from the same hunt.”

Lindsey nods, like she understands. But you know she doesn’t, you know she’ll keep being the same, until they turn on her, and then she’ll wonder why no one stands up for her and how anyone could believe the jargon they say about her. And on that day, you’d be nodding with the crowd.

—-------------

If Peter told his aunt about today she had an excellent poker face. Because she was more than happy seeing you when she opened the door, hugging you close before she could even shut it.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you doing?” Politely hugging back, you talk back in her ear. “Hi, Ms. Parker, I’m good, how are you?” A squeeze before you’re released, her hands warm on your shoulders.

“Oh, please, just call me May. Did Peter give you the cookies?”

You nod while biting back a grin, she might have a clue for how you feel about her nephew but you’re not announcing it either. “Good,” she’s got something in her that makes you feel like she’s more of a wingwoman than aunt.

“Peter’s in his room, I won’t be back until late, are you sleeping over?”

You feel off balance for a second. May’s leaving you and Peter alone, for several hours, and then suggests you’ll be spending the night. She really is a wingwoman. It makes you second guess everything Peter might have told her, it’s clear she can see your mental gymnastics when she pats your arm.

“He said you guys are gonna hang out, maybe watch some movies. I just meant, will I be surprised if I come home to you two cuddled up somewhere.”

Is she saying not to fuck in the common areas?

“Are you saying-”

“Keep it in his room.”

Mortified. She must assume the worst out of you, you’ve only met her twice and her thought was that the second you were alone you’d be fuck bunnies. To be fair, Peter is really attractive. She can tell how embarrassed she’d made you and she’s quick to jump over it.

“No accusations and no shaming. I’d just rather be clear to both of you. Peter had a worse conversation, be glad.”

You take that as her permission, and that she likes you. She has to, she just implied she’d be cool if you and Peter hooked up. Even if the world hated you, having her approval made you feel like you had someone to impress again.

“Okay, I understand and accept the rules and boundaries of your home.”

May laughs, hooking her purse over her shoulder she pats your arm again. “You’re a good kid, don’t forget that.”

And that made you want to curl up and cry, you haven’t had unprompted support like that in years. It worked, because you’d never, not once, cross any boundary of her’s. In fact, after that? You’d die protecting hers.

“Thanks, May. See you later.”

A wink, “See you later, honey.”

You took a second to breathe, and look over yourself in the mirror before approaching Peter’s door. Knocking for a second and opening it when he answered, he spun one eighty in his desk chair, a blur of blue plaid until he settled.

Before he had a chance to speak you did, “did your aunt give us permission to have sex, or am I tripping?”

Peter’s grin dimmed, he looked to his closet doors while his cheeks tinged pink. “I promise you, whatever she said to you, is nowhere near as bad as my talk.”

“She mentioned that, was it all about the ins and outs of pleasuring a woman?”

Peter’s avoiding eye contact, you came here to tell him he should keep his space but watching him shrink under your questions made you feel powerful. Each blush he gives makes you want to dig in further.

He more or less shrugs, it’s a damn bold line, you don’t even know what you're saying until it comes out in full.

“Tell me, Parker, could you please me?”

Seconds tick, you can hear it on his clock, finally he looks at your face. Any trace of a blush fallen, it makes you feel choked.

“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.”

Panic. He’s not supposed to say that, he’s supposed to back down. You’re supposed to back him down.

Peter can’t go down this road and it’s your job to block his path, but you can’t stop yourself from moving out of his way.

“I mean, since you already know about the nipple piercings…” you trail your words, expecting a sneer. Instead he laughs, a full on body laugh, it makes you smile, just the pure happiness radiating from him.

For once a rumor is just something you can laugh about.

“Psh, of course I knew about them. I mean, isn’t that the third time you’ve had them?”

It was. You didn’t realize it but that was the third time the rumor was reused. You didn’t notice but he did, did he notice all the other ones too? All the ones that stated how bad you were? Did it even matter if he believed them, you didn’t think so, at least not at this point, you just didn’t want him to suffer the same fate.

Peter pats the top of his bed, “take a seat,” your stomach lurches, the thought of being in his bed enough to ignite you in flames. His aunt said keep it in his room and he’s luring you right in, your palms feel like they’re sweating. If he heard all the rumors about you sleeping around and thought you were like that, he was about to be disappointed.

Holding your eyes shut and squeezing fists you rush the words out, the quicker said the quicker this would be over.

“I’m a virgin!”

Instead, he looked utterly confused, looking around his room like he was trying to figure out where the explosion came from. Settling on a low release of words, his eyebrows furrowed in, “so am I?”

Just to be clear, “I’m not looking to change that tonight, so if that’s why you wanted-”

“No!” Peter almost slips on the floor he stands so quick, “that’s not at all why I wanted, I just thought…” He doesn’t know how to say it, he almost said he thought you needed a friend, but that could be offensive, or worse, he’d be friendzoning himself for you.

“Thought what, I’d be an easy piece? Cause I know you’ve hea-”

“I asked Mrs. Sturgis if I could tutor you!”

You stop talking, his words looping in your brain. That doesn’t make sense, because if he did ask then that means he wanted to tutor you, that means there was a deeper meaning, that means when his aunt said he talked about you it went further than what was said at school.

“Please,” he pleaded your name, “come sit? Just for a second.”

You follow his command and sit on the edge of his bed, watching Peter pace as he combs his hands through his hair. He’s nervous.

“I don’t know how to talk to you, my brain is just… you make me really nervous.”

“Why did you ask to tutor me?”

Peter stops moving to look at you, it was easier to answer when you asked.

“So I could talk to you.”

It’s a start, “why?”

“I just wanted you to trust me. I hear what everyone says, and I don’t believe a word of it, but I didn’t want you to think I was asking for the wrong reasons, or making a joke out of you.”

Your face scrunches, “you thought, I’d think, that you asking to tutor me, directly, would be a joke?”

Peter shakes his head, sitting back in his chair and taking a second to answer you.

“No, I think if I asked you out on a date you’d think it was a joke.”

You laugh, “well, yeah… It’s not like you…”

Except he does, and you can see it all over his face. He really, really does. With the new knowledge you don’t know how to act, suddenly aware Peter Parker sees you in a different light. He doesn’t see you as his student, he sees you as a potential mate.

You only know fight or flight, and your flight option was crawling further up his bed, backing away until your back hit the wall, a dull thump produced. You give a barely audible, “ow,” your brain racing with thoughts, trying to catch up with his admittance.

“You okay?”

You’re thankful he can’t see you, the top bunk perfectly cutting your head from his viewpoint.

“Peachy,” you can barely speak.

“Cool, cause it seemed like you kinda freaked when I implied I wanted to ask you out.”

You nibble on your thumbnail, “implied or asking?”

“I’d rather ask when I can see you.”

How is he so calm, he was the one that was just pacing the floor talking about how nervous he was. Now he’s a smooth talker.

“Is that why you asked to tutor me? So you could ask me out?”

“Maybe, but you also need a tutor.”

Rude. Fair, but rude.

“So, you like me?”

You wish you could see the smile he has, you know he has one, you can hear it in his laugh.

“What would give you that impression?”

You shrug, but he can’t see. “I don’t know, you’re not nervous anymore.”

“I don’t have to be, the girl I like likes me too.”

You gasp, you’ve said no such thing! There was absolutely nothing to base his accusation off of. You mock his words.

“What would give you that impression?”

Another laugh, you wish you could see that laugh. But once you emerge it’s over, it means he’s signed his life away to be with you. An act of selflessness you didn’t know was possible.

“Look at yourself, you’re hiding cause you’re petrified to be asked out.”

“No, I’m not. I’m protecting you, cause if you don’t ask, you won’t be ridiculed.”

You imagine he looks offended, because he sounds it.

“Do you think I give a shit what anyone thinks?”

“It’s isolating, Peter. I’d feel like I’d bring you down, and you don’t deserve that.” You take a breath, “you’re very kind, and I really like that.”

“You’re kind too, and smart, and really, very, pretty. And I think once you have a boyfriend and a friend group, things won’t be so bad and everyone will forget why they teased you.”

You hum, playing with your nails and chewing at your bottom lip, silence took over. It was a rush of a lot of emotions, you’re shocked and excited. You’re also panicked and jittery. It was everything you feared and wished for at once.

Peter Parker is asking to be in your life, no matter the cost.

That’s the bravest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Clearing your throat, “who would be my boyfriend?”

Peter pretended to think about it, “you could have whoever you want.”

“Anything you want, it’s yours.” An immediate flashback to the first day he sat with you, you mumbled out the words and scooted, just an inch, from the wall.

“What was that?”

You announce it, moving forward another inch, “anything you want, it’s yours. You said that at lunch the first day you sat with me, do you still mean it?”

There’s just something you’ve been dying to do, something you’ve been wanting to do. And he said whatever you wanted.

“Whatever you want, I mean it.” He sounds sincere too, you move forward a few inches.

“Have you kissed anyone before?”

Peter doesn’t understand the correlation but he’ll entertain it. “Yes?”

You offer up more information, hoping he’d catch the hint. “I haven’t.”

He doesn’t. “That’s no biggie, I think over half the school-”

You speak over him, “but, I want to.”

It takes Peter a second to register it, and when he does he almost collapses.

“Oh. I see. Um, want me to come in there, or you come out here?”

Your heart races, he’s so willing to do whatever with no qualms, you just asked and he’s delivering. You were about to have your first kiss with your number one crush, and he liked you too.

“Wait, you’re gonna do it?” You’ve never been so excited. Or anxious. Were these the butterflies people talk about?

“I’m sorry, did I read that wrong?”

“No, you’re just… right now?” You think you’ll puke all over him, that’s why you’re stalling.

You can see Peter drum his fingers over his pants, “do you wanna hold off for a second? I’ll do it whenever you want.”

Your heart clenches, “Peter,” you groan out his name, “stop being so nice, it hurts.” Waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m gonna suck, and you won’t like me anymore.”

God, you wish you could see the cocky grin smear, you can hear it, but you want to face him more than anything. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. He knows you can’t stay hidden forever.

“Wanna bet?”

Why not? If you really think about the last year and change of high school, what else would you really have to lose?

Plus, he was really cute.

Overwhelmed with the knowledge of knowing you were about to have your first kiss, you slowly shimmied to the edge of the bed, right where you were before you hightailed it backwards.

Peter looks even better than you’ve pictured, his hair fluffy from where he ran his hands through it. A greeting smile rested on him, and his bright brown eyes warmed. “Well, hello there, I was afraid you got lost.”

Sucking the life force from your bravery, “I was told there would be kisses out here.”

A surprised look crossed Peter before he fell back into neutral, pushing off his desk to glide over in front of you, his knees knocking yours, suddenly you feel panicky again. “There absolutely can be.”

Peter catches your nerves and figures it’d be easier to actually get it over with, because the second he would pull away all panic would hit near bottom ground. Using what little skill he has, he rests his right hand on your thigh while his left cups your face.

You suck in a breath, following his guide when he brings your face up to his. Peter swipes his thumb across your cheekbone and you feel everything in you be set ablaze with desire.

You wonder if he can feel how warm your cheek is under his touch, if he does, he doesn’t comment. When you give him no disagreement he leans in, he can hear your breath hitch, it brings him a little pleasure to be the ‘cool’ one in the situation.

When he’s closer than you would’ve ever imagined he gives you a grin, “hi.” It was a hushed whisper, you give him one back, “hi.” Your eyes flash from his gaze to his mouth, you were caught, it makes you look down at your hands.

Your mind spirals, why hasn’t he kissed you yet, and also, what do you do with your hands? Giving it a shot you press them against Peter’s chest, but it feels like you’re pushing him off, so you move to his shoulders but it doesn’t feel quite right.

“Want some help?” Peter caught on to your struggle, of course he did, he just notices the little things with you. He doesn’t even pull away, just bringing his hand that was on your thigh to bring your left hand around his neck. Your right hand outstretched to rest on his ribcage, when you look back he seems much closer, this time he’s looking at your mouth.

“Do-”

Peter cuts you off, a hushed whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you now,” you breathe in sharply, “oh, okay.” Peter can’t fight the smile, “is it?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, his mouth is on yours, and it’s heaven. You feel like you’re floating, his lips velvety smooth, the only way you know how to show your shock and appreciation is by gripping his shirt. Peter’s bottom lip favored your top lip, moving into his kisses awkwardly. He was much more experienced, but he didn’t make you feel overwhelmed, it felt like he was guiding you.

You didn’t feel like you were doing much, but it felt like everything you imagined. It made you dream of a day where you could do this with him whenever you wanted. It felt like he was pulling away, you refused to part and followed him, holding tight to his flannel. It failed when he was able to push you away with ease.

Peter sounded slightly winded, you were blinking with stars in your eyes, your heartbeat in your throat, and just a little shy to look at him. “Funny thing about kissing, you gotta breathe to keep doing it.”

You're new to it, gulps of fresh air weren’t as refreshing as him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you didn’t want to put him out, and you still weren’t sure how to initiate or ask for it.

Peter tapped on your knee, “wanna take me out for another test drive or are you happy with your purchase?”

He wanted to do it again.

That’s a good thing.

“If I buy it, does that mean the test drives stop?”

“Of course not. That just means you don’t need to ask to drive it.”

You lean in this time, “but I have to ask now?”

Peter speaks against your lips, “it would be the customary thing to do.”

“Well then,” you speak softly and look at him, “would you kiss me again?”

Your eyes close when he brushes against your mouth, a kiss is pressed to the corner of your cheek, “depends, are you planning on purchasing?”

Boldly, you give him a chaste kiss, “everyone at school is gonna hate my new car.”

Peter kisses your cheek, “best in show, baby. Best in show.”

You take a deep breath, it wasn’t a bad thing to need someone. And it wouldn’t be bad to let yourself have them.

Peter Parker heard everything everyone said but he wasn’t even listening, it felt dizzying, for the first time someone saw the real you, the good you and wanted you. He wanted nothing and everything at the same time. You liked him, maybe a bit too much, and the risk of losing him was enough to send you flying. But the chance of love, and hope and trust was even bigger.

Someone wasn’t scared to have a big reputation with you. Peter Parker was proud to have the same big enemies as you.

And for that reason,

“Sold.”

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter fluff #my writing

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doctorbitchcrxft · 19 days

Text

Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)

Word Count: 5826

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean didn’t talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you.

‘Like a wart,’ you thought. ‘Or a blister, maybe.’

Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadn’t told Sam what you’d told him about your family which you were surprised by.

The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John.

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.”

He didn’t respond.

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” he finally answered.

“Busy doin’ what?” you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.

“Reading e-mails.”

Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean asked.

“Why not?” He still hadn’t turned his attention from his phone.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“And I couldn’t make my way into that lie?” you asked.

“What do I tell ‘em, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?” he chuckled. “And I don’t lie to them. I just don’t tell ‘em… everything.”

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” you retorted. “I get it, though, the truth is much worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

His older brother shrugged.

“You’re serious?” Sam wasn’t really asking.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean responded.

“How many friends do I have, Sam?” you asked him.

“Me.”

“Exactly,” you giggled.

“You two are kind of anti-social, you know that?” He returned to scrolling through his emails.

“Eh, whatever.” You flopped back on the bench seat.

“God….” Sam trailed off.

“What?” you and Dean asked.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean—”

Sam ignored the two of you. “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” his brother questioned.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

“Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

Sam wasn’t having it. “It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.

***

The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house you’d arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl.

‘Damn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,’ you thought.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam jested.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

“I got your e-mail.” His tone had become somber.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she answered earnestly.

Dean shoved in front of Sam. “Dean. Older brother.”

‘He’s making his fucking voice deeper again.’

She shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” You peeked out from behind Sam. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Nice to meet you!” You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. “Come in.”

“Nice place,” Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Becky explained.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.”

‘Of course, they fucking do.’

“Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked politely.

Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to cry.

‘She’s even pretty when she cries.’

“So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,” she relayed.

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasn’t picking up where Sam was going with this.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” the blonde asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Detective, actually,” Dean laughed.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just— I don’t know,” she said.

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent,” Sam replied.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends,” Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam responded.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.

***

“You’re sure this is okay?” Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.

Dean clearly was having fun with the whole “cop” thing. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.”

You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in.

She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes— Zack’s clothes. The police— they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” you asked her.

“He just changed.”

Dean turned over his shoulder to her. “Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder,” she shrugged.

You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway.

Dean came up behind you soon after. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“Yeah, prob—” you started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

You shot him a look. “The evidence is staring you in the face, and you still can’t admit you’re wrong.”

He shot a look back at you that said, ‘Don’t try me.’

Before you could push each other’s buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. “So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

How Becky was buying into Dean’s lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she giggled. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

The three of you went back to Becky’s parents’ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.

“22:04,” Dean noted the time stamp, “that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with,” Becky added.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam asked.

“Oh, sure,” she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Maybe some sandwiches, too?” He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her.

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she snarked.

“I wish,” Dean mumbled.

“Can you focus, please?” you asked him.

“What are you, my mother?” Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation.

“No, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I’d prefer not to watch it happen,” you replied playfully. “But look.” You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zack’s eyes were silver. “There!”

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean shrugged.

“Does that look like any camera flare you’ve ever seen?” you asked rhetorically.

He just looked away, defeated.

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam chimed in. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger?” Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once,” Sam said.

Despite the luxurious villa Sam’s friend called home, the three of you didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.

You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boys’ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when he’d just woken up.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grinned.

He scratched his head. “(Y/N), what the fu—”

“We have to get to Zack’s house. I just thought of something. “

Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. “Whatcha got?”

Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room.

“We saw ‘Zack’ go in, but never saw the killer leave,” you explained. “But of course, we didn’t. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?”

Sam was with you, nodding his head.

“Did you have to realize that before five in the morning?” Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep. But I figured that out, so that’s all that matters.”

Dean shook his head and yawned again. “Sam, you’re driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.”

***

“He must’ve gone out the back door,” Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zack’s house. “So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

“C’mon,” you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zack’s house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

“Blood. Somebody came this way,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean added from a few paces ahead. “I don’t see anything over here.”

Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Dean’s car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“He tried to kill his wife,” she responded with a hand to her chest. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.” She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.

The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?” Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.

“Yeah,” his brother answered.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

You gasped, feigning shock. “Mark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he retorted.

“What’d you find out?” Sam asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” Dean explained.

“So, he was in two places at once, too.”

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think he’s a nutjob.”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “You think it could be a shapeshifter?”

“Something that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,” Sam responded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves,” Dean added. “We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this— in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” the younger brother asked.

“Not that I know of.” You shook your head. “But someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then… the trail just… ends. Just like at your friend’s house.” You gestured toward Sam.

“Well, there’s another way to go.” You followed Dean’s gaze down to a manhole.

“Ew, gross.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover.

The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen.

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. “Blegh, look!”

“Is this from his victims?” Sam looked equally as disgusted.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. “You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.”

“That is sick,” you affirmed.

He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.

“Ew, dude!” you shoved his arm. “What the fuck?”

He just laughed in response.

You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad—” Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, “—is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” you chimed in.

He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets.

Sam’s cell phone rang. “This is Sam… We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out… What are you talkin’ about?”

He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why she’d be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.

“Why would you do that?... Bec— We’re tryin’ to help… Bec, I’m sorry, but—” And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.

Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you guys,” he replied quietly.

“Sam, I’m not trying to be heartless, but Dean’s kinda right.” Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. “We’re not like other people.”

“But I’ll tell you one thing.” Dean’s lighthearted tone was back. “This whole gig— it ain’t without perks.” He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.

You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Sam’s head. “I think we’re close to its lair,” you told them.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked.

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you snickered.

“Oh, God!” His face scrunched up in disgust.

There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you.

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while,” you heard Dean say from behind you.

You turned to face him as you spoke. “Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away— Fuck, Dean!” you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him.

Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off.

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean commanded.

The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldn’t see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up.

Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him.

***

The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you weren’t entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brother’s voice coming from behind you.

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not—” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post.

You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean.

“You are one fucking trainwreck,” he said, searching your face.

You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. “The more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.”

“What do you mean ‘learn’?”

As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. “You made a big mistake telling him— I mean, me— about what you did to your family. If I wasn’t ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. “You fucking bitch. Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head.

“(Y/N), are you back there?” Dean called from somewhere you couldn’t see.

You knew he hadn’t said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” Your voice was still shaky from crying. “He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” Dean gibed at his brother.

You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.

You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,” you heard Sam tell Dean.

“What do you mean?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,” you told him.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?”

You giggled. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam added.

“Yeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connection— ah,” you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.

“(Y/N), stop, I’m coming to help you,” Dean instructed.

“I’m a big girl,” you replied sassily. “I can do it.”

Dean had made his way over to you. “Do you have to fight me on everything?” He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck.

“Yes, but thank you,” you told him. You still couldn’t look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldn’t deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way he’d helped you were starting to break down your walls a little.

“Come on, we gotta go,” you heard Sam order from behind you. “He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out.

Sam started down the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped him. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End—” the reporter stated, “—where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

Of course, Dean’s attitude was unwavering. “Man! That’s not even a good picture.”

You looked around nervously.

“It’s good enough,” Sam said.

“Man!” Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway.

“They said attempted murder,” you pointed out. “At least we know—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

You nodded.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

‘He’s still as arrogant as ever.’

“We have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,” you countered.

“Sweetheart, the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal, I wanna find him.” He turned to face you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I get it. We need guns, though.”

“The car?” Sam threw in.

“I’m bettin’ he drove over to Rebecca’s.” Dean’s face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him drivin’ my car—” he whined.

You shook your head. “Come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” Dean whined again.

“Let it go,” you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.

The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.” Dean’s joy was almost contagious.

His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebecca’s street and blocking the end of the road.

“Fuck.” You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too.

“This way, this way,” Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it.

“You guys go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you.” Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s,” Sam quickly spoke.

You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.

Dean sat beside you. “What did he say to you?”

You turned to him. “Huh?”

“The shifter. What’d he say to you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine—”

“(Y/N), you haven’t looked at me once since we left that thing’s hideout. Tell me what he said.”

“Why can’t you drop it?” you spat, looking down at your boots.

“Because,” he protested. “I gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.”

You sighed. “He said you think I’m annoying. And, um, a burden. He said you’re trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you can’t trust me because of what I did to my family.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

“He said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.”

He nodded. “Do you really believe that?” You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “You haven’t exactly proven otherwise to me.” You looked up at him for the first time in hours.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all we’ve ever done is fight,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “But I don’t think those things about you. Honest.”

“I feel like I’m pulling teeth here, Dean,” you remarked. “What do you think of me?”

“I mean, you can be annoying.”

You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips.

“And you’re way too stubborn.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And so are you.”

“And you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Would you let me finish?” he deadpanned.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You just… you intimidate me a little, honestly.” Now Dean was the one who couldn’t look at you.

You were shocked. “Really? Why?”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman.”

You giggled at the memory.

“This tops that by far,” he admitted.

You nodded. You’d have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit.

“Can we start over?” you asked him.

He eyed you curiously.

“As… acquaintances, I mean,” you explained. “We’re no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine I’ll be around for a little while longer. I’d rather us not fight the whole time. It’s getting exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“Okay, then.” You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. “Hi. I’m (Y/N).”

Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. “Dean.” This time, he actually shook your hand.

***

Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place you’d heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.

“What happened?” you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts.

She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” Dean told her.

The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Dean said. “Sam went to see you.”

When you got to Rebecca’s house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.

Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, “Hey!”

The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead.

You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. “Are you okay?” you asked him.

He smiled painfully at you. “Peachy.”

You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over… Dean… and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.

You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.

Sam approached the two of you.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked his brother.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam jested. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Get in the car, (Y/N),” he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasn’t trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.

As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. “Sorry, man.”

“About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know?” the older brother said earnestly. “I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,” Sam admitted.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said dryly.

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Sam’s voice softened.

“You know, I gotta say. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.”

You felt one of Dean’s stupid jokes coming on. “Oh, here we go.”

He eyed you in the rearview mirror.

“Miss what?” Sam asked.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smirked.

You shook your head. “And there it is.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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majosullivan · 5 months

Text

Castle Swimmer Dashboard Simulator

🪸 classycoral Follow

If there’s one thing that I’ve learnt while traveling the sea, it’s that prophecies can really range from being the silliest of tales to the most horrific things you will ever of having the dismay of laying your eyes on

🪸 classycoral Follow

Like I’ll visit one castle and their prophecy will be ‘It’s been destined that the beacon will use this frog to predict the future so we can prepare for it :)’ and then the next castle I visit will have a prophecy like ‘It is been foretold from centuries past that the beacon shall arrive and save us from a plague that has been taunting us since ancient time. Through sacrifical ritual, they shall free us from this torment’

#like who is coming up with these #are you guys doing okay???

154,879 notes

💧 oceaneyes Follow

I heard there’s hot singles at the bottom of the God Mouth

⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow

out of the way boys I’m about to GET IT

⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow

got trapped in unending darkness surrounded by voices

9,264 notes

🪷 through-the-reef Follow

I’m currently traveling through the Purple Peaks and it’s absolutely gorgeous here! I have no idea why there seems to be so few people living here, it seems wonderful!

🪷 through-the-reef Follow

GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB-

13,521 notes

✨ give-that-axolotl-a-knife Follow

Does anyone else feel like the surface god is just toying with you how they please. They think they’re so funny. Well I’m about to be hilarious

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

this feels so threatening, are you doing okay op?

24,957 notes

🌊 squids Follow

Being alive is so wonderful because there is so many beautiful places in the ocean you can explore and so many fascinating creatures you can see. However there are also the unending horrors

6,496 notes

🖼️ ocean-landscapes Follow

The Blue Hills

832 notes

💰 needling-on Follow

GUYS I MIGHT BE GOING INSANE BUT I’M CURRENTLY OUTSIDE TRAINING AND I SWEAR I JUST SAW ONE OF THE RULERS AT MY CASTLE GO FLYING OUT THE CASTLE WINDOW

💰 needling-on Follow

NOT INSANE, A GROUP OF HIS PEOPLE JUST CAME SWIMMING OUT CALLING AFTER HIM, OH MY GOD I CAN’T BREATH

💰 needling-on Follow

UPDATE: THEY’RE COMING BACK WITH HIM NOW AND HE MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO A SCHOOL OF PRETTY VICIOUS FISH CAUSE HE’S COVERED IN BITE MARKS AND THERE’S STILL ONE BITING HIM. I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO CRACK A RIB

284,047 notes

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

Alright guys which mini god from the ones y’all know about do you think you could take

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

Blocked blocked blocked. None of you are seeing the light of the surface

69,638 notes

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

Life is so fucking unfair cause kelp dragons are SO beautiful and magnificent and enchanting and I would do ANYTHING to get up close to or even pet one, but the moment one would see me they would immediately try to swallow me whole like a shrimp

#they’re so pretty and for what #AND FOR WHAT?! #I just want to give them a little kiss on top of your head… #is that too much to ask?

2,749 notes

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

THE BEACON IS TWENTY???

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

THEY SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB…

💧 oceanxeyes Follow

HUH?

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

I’m sorry, the beacon is WHAT?

🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow

🪸 classycoral Follow

No because like my castle’s prophecy is nearing 200 years old and I’ve met a ton of people whose prophecies are over twice that age. How in the name of the Surface God are they only 20?

🌱 seaweed-brains Follow

Okay this post just unlocked some long dormant memories in my brain and if I don’t talk about it with someone outside my castle I think I’ll lose my mind so you guys better be sitting down.

For some context: until around 7-8 years ago, my people were under almost constant threat of these giant sea snakes because they had unknowingly killed the head of their den. Savage things. Would take any opportunity to attack us. We couldn’t even find a new castle cause they would follow us everywhere. Because of all this, our elders ended up creating a prophecy, which stated that the Beacon would eat the carcass of the head snake, causing the rest of the sea snakes to leave us alone.

So when I was like 13, the Beacon had arrived at our castle to fulfil our prophecy, and as you can expect, we were all very excited and I remember trying to get to the front of the crowd as fast as possible to see them. They were like nothing I have ever seen before and have seen since, we all were in complete awe of them. However, the thing about them that ended up surprising me the most was that they were young. Like, pretty damn young. They looked a little younger than me. So while our monarch quickly went to make sure all the preparations were complete, they entrusted my parents with making sure the Beacon was comfortable, giving my family the opportunity to have small chat with them. Curiousity getting the better of me, I asked how old they were. 13. They said they’re 13 years old. They were MY age. I didn’t know what to do at that point and basically throughout the entire time our prophecy was being completed, my mind was just stuck thinking about if I was destined to eat that giant smelly snake

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME???

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

I need a whole day to fully process that prophecy alone what in the actual fuck

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

Did…

…did they eat the snake carcass?

🌱 seaweed-brains Follow

THE WHOLE THING…

🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow

🪸 classycoral Follow

and people still think I was exaggerating about how wild prophecies are. How in the entire sea does being attacked by sea snakes lead to the Beacon needing to eat a giant carcass? Who is coming up with these solutions? Show me their workings

💧 oceanxeyes Follow

The Beacon arriving at another castle to help people fulfil their prophecy, only to find that it’s another one written by freaks:

🐚 sandyshells Follow

…the beacon is real?

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

HELLO?

🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow

Sandy get back here right now what do u MEAN you didn’t know the Beacon was real???

🐚 sandyshells Follow

MY PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS SAID THE BEACON WAS JUST PART OF ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY…we were always told growing up that prophecies and the lot were just stories and such. You’re telling me that there’s actually a divine being going around helping people by eating snakes and stuff???

🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow

Y E A H

🐚 sandyshells Follow

WHAT THE HELL

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

This whole post is a mess holy shit

498,690 notes

#castle swimmer #webtoon #fake tumblr dash #fake tumblr post #dashboard simulator #castle swimmer kappa #kappa #castle swimmer siren #siren

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bless-my-demons · 11 months

Text

Redamancy: Chapter Three

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None

Notes: So sorry last weekend’s chapter was late this week, I’m back to my regularly scheduled posting! I’m so excited so many of you like this series so far!!

Word Count: 1131

Series Masterlist

• January 25, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

My second day at Forks high school started much smoother than the first. It was pretty much uneventful until I decided to eat lunch alone outside on the picnic tables in the quad. It was an overcast day much like all the others and maybe a little chilly, but still decent enough since it wasn’t currently raining. It made for the perfect condition being that no one else really wanted to eat outside.

That is, until I spotted none other than Jasper Hale headed in my direction.

“Mind if I join you?” He asks, pointing to the opposite end of the table I’m currently occupying.

“Not at all.” I respond, idly tidying my area self consciously.

“Sorry, sometimes it’s a little overwhelming inside and I come out here to get away.” He says by way of explanation, laying down the sketch pad he carried with him along with a few pencils and a smudge stick. “Mostly I just come out here to draw uninterrupted.” He sits and flips to an empty page, tilting it a little away from my view.

“I get it, large crowds aren’t my thing either. Plus in the two days I’ve known Emmett I can already tell that he probably creates a hostile drawing environment.” I finish with a light chuckle, turning my attention toward the unfinished apple in my hand.

“You draw too?” He asks, eyebrows lifting as he begins a rough sketch on the blank paper.

“Oh heck no, I don’t have any artistic abilities like that, as much as I wish I did.” I frown, taking a bite of my apple.

“I didn’t think I had it in me either, but I took some classes, watched some videos online, and doodled around a lot. Finally got the hang of it although I still don’t really think I’m that good.” He trails off, concentrating on his pencil strokes. “It helps with the stress though, especially when there’s a lot going on.”

“That is… actually kind of neat. Having an outlet that’s also inspiring, creating art and it centering you in the process.” I muse out loud, watching a face beginning to take shape on his paper.

I’m about to ask who he’s drawing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rings out in the empty air surrounding us. I gather my trash and stand while he tucks his supplies away.

“Thanks for keeping me company today.” I tell him as I gaze into his beautifully golden eyes, not quite ready to part ways with him.

“Thanks for allowing me to disturb your peace and quiet.” And as if reading my mind, “Mind if I walk you to your next class?”

“Oh um, sure.” Trying not to seem too excited by the proposition of spending more time in this gorgeous boy’s presence. I tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear and walk towards him.

“Lead the way, darlin’.” He announces, sweeping his arm in the direction of the main school building, a smirk on his lips.

I laugh and shake my head at his antics, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I walk past him in the direction of my economics class.

Ditching my trash in the trash can as we leave the quad, I miss the way he grins at the accomplishment of making me giggle. I also fail to notice the astounded looks of his adopted siblings as we pass them unaware of their presence through the windows of the cafeteria. Faces reflecting their shocked thoughts at seeing their brother openly flirting with a female compared to his normal stoic facade.

“How did you do it?” Emmett asks, leaning against the locker next to mine.

“Could you be a little more specific?” I ask, a little confused by his blunt question.

“You’ve been here less than a week and my brother is wrapped around your little finger.” He says, holding up his pinky to wiggle in my face.

I laugh and shut my locker, “Emmett, I’ve had all of like two interactions with Jasper, you’re looking into this a little too much.”

“He usually keeps to himself, this isn't the normal Jasper we’re talking about.” He falls into step slightly behind me on my way to the last class of the day, his large build not moving through the throng of students as quickly as I am.

I turn to look at my new friend, “I literally have no clue, it’s probably nothing Em!” My heart picking up speed at just the thought of Jasper. Is he actually interested in me? Is that what Emmett is getting at?

There’s no way, beautiful people like him don’t go for people like me.

I turn and leave Emmett behind in the hallway as students finish rushing through the halls, the tardy bell ringing.

American History, the class I share with Jasper Hale and it also happens to be the last class of the day. Unfortunately though, his assigned seat is on the other side of the room. At least it’s more forward than mine, leaving me to observe him for most of the class period without him seeing.

History is also my worst subject; whether it’s world or US history, I hate it all the same. So many mistakes and atrocities, I wish I could let it flow in one ear and out the other without having to remember it for tests.

Today though, I get the sense our teacher has had a difficult day since he’s decided to let us work together freely. Seeing as I don’t really know anyone yet, I’m forced to work alone.

As if he could feel my discomfort and irritation with the assignment, Jasper Hale appears at the edge of my peripheral vision, claiming the abandoned desk next to mine and turning a few heads of our classmates.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically hear it from across the room.” He mutters lowly without looking up from his worksheet.

“I’m thinking too loud?” I respond defensively as I cut him a look that would normally skin boys alive.

“Would you like some help or not, doll?” He asks, a grin sliding across his lips as his eyes meet mine in challenge.

“I-uh, I hate history.” I manage to blurt out, a little flustered that he so easily bypassed my frustrated facade without a blink.

“I do want that explanation eventually, but we have work to finish and only,” He breaks eye contact to glance at the clock above the board, “thirty seven minutes left before you’re on your own.”

“Alright Hale, what did you get for number four?” I deflate and accept his offer to save me from the misery of suffering through this stupid assignment alone.

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock hale #twilight fanfiction #twilight #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #bless-my-demons #redamancy series #slow burn #female reader insert

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reidslovely · 7 months

Text

Love of Mine

Heeeey @hollandweather remember that request you sent me forever ago?? ii went with the mob!peter version ii hope you're good with that :)

Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: Lots of fighting and yelling, happyish ending, angsty. Let me know if I missed anything cause I'm sure I did.

Kind of a sequel but not really to this

Pretty please read and reblog!! thanks friend

Freshly painted black nails contrasted against the soft cream color of the armchair cushion as she dug her nails into the fabric. Standing in the dimly lit office waiting for him to notice her, she stood like a haunting figure in front of him, simply waiting for an acknowledgment.

“Peter.” Her words came out soft, yet stern. Swallowing the angry lump in her throat as his eyebrows raised, and his chest fell.

“Yes baby?”

He spoke simply, not even lifting his head to acknowledge her. He was engrossed in whatever he was looking at some paper with a mugshot attached. Ever since the shootout that killed him Peter had been different. He came back different. Angerier, more cruel. Never to her, just others. She hadn’t been sure what happened, maybe it had given him time to reflect. Time to be angry at the cards he was dealt in life.

“Do you not..?” She fumbled over her words in her upset.

“It feels like you don’t care about..us anymore Peter.” There was a sad honesty in her voice. She wished she had been making it up, that it was all in her head. Peter threw himself into his work the moment he got better. He’d leave several times for days on end; not a single call to let her know he was okay or when he’d be home. It was unlike him.

He furrowed his brows, looking at her finally. “Of course I care, baby.”

Again, there's the distance in his voice. It feels rehearsed, almost like he’d been practicing this delivery for the months he’s been back. There were times where he didn’t seem himself, he was quick to anger and quick to jump. He and Harry having nearly had several physical altercations since being back. Felicia having gone ghost on them after she and Peter had it out over an action plan. His wife was feeling his anger, and it was nesting in her. She could try to nurse him back to his mentality before, she could settle his arguments with friends and colleagues. However, she could only handle him neglecting her for so long.

“Do you know what today is?” She began to wander around the office. Their wedding picture is sitting snugly on the bookcase in a gold frame. Both are much younger in the photo having gotten married straight out of high school.

“October 19th..wh- Oh, oh baby.”

For a moment her Peter was there, the realization washed over the room. She knew he felt like an idiot rethinking the day. She’d made his favorite breakfast, they showered together, and she’d even gone shopping and excitedly showed him everything she had gotten. She was now dressed in a purple slip dress she’d bought today.

He forgot their anniversary.

Peter stood up from his desk rushing to her. She felt exposed under his touch, pulling her face away as he grabbed her jaw in his calloused hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry baby.”

“It’s whatever Peter.” She backed away, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just wanted to know that you still cared and…well, I got my answer.” Angrily she stormed out of his office, slamming the door shut behind her. A photo of them falling off his decor table in the show of aggression, the frame bursting into dozens tiny pieces.

Peter followed behind her, his feet slamming against the hardwood of the stairs. “I don’t care! Is that what you’re saying right now?”

“That's what I said.” She yells back trying to slam their bedroom door in his face. Peter grabbed it, pushing it open. He stared at her in shock, standing there with his arms at his side. His wife glaring back at him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You don’t care about me or us anymore. All you care about is killing those people who hurt you. All you care about is work, what’s being moved in and what's being taken out.” She started pointing a finger at him. “This is the last fucking straw Peter. I’m fucking tired. I can’t keep fixing the things you fuck up because you are so blinded by rage. You are so fucking selfish. You forgot my birthday, and our wedding anniversary. Harry doesn’t even want to see you any fucking more because you are not yourself. I want Peter back not whatever fucking stranger crawled into your body while you were dying. I want my husband because you are not him, he was a good husband.”

Both her and Peter stared at one another. She knew she shouldn’t have said it.

Her anger echoed in the room, she expected him to fight back. She wanted him to fight back, yell, scream, let her know that he in some way cared. Instead he turned and looked at himself in the mirror and then down at his socked feet.

“So me proving I care about you, about Harry. About anything other than myself would mean I’d stop taking down the people who hurt me. I’d stop going after Li or Fisk’s guys who got together and planned to kill not only me but everything I cared about including you?”

He stared at her like she had five heads. Not knowing how to respond she rubbed her hands down her face. He was putting words in her mouth.

“Cool, cool yeah. I’ll stop, fuck I’ll step down from being the head of this organization. We can totally live a normal life not constantly looking over our shoulders.``

“You’re being mean, you’re putting words in my fucking mouth.” She warns. Peter takes a deep breath shaking his head as he looks down, something he did to keep himself from crying.

“I went to that warehouse to protect all of you. Do you understand that? Because if I didn’t go to them, they were gonna come to us. Now, I am cleaning up a mess I made that has put you all at risk. I’m..” Peter’s hands shook at his side, before coming up to rub his face aggressively. He dropped down to the floor sitting his back against the wall.

“I’m sorry I’m a bad husband, I haven’t been a good husband since that night and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you here, I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry that I put you in any danger by coming back. But as a good husband and as a good friend or boss I have to kill them.” He whispered to her, as she joined him on the floor.

“You have every right to be mad at me. I’m mad at myself. And this isn’t me guilt tripping you, this is me telling you that you’re right I haven’t been a good husband and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot your birthday and our anniversary and that I’ve been a total piece of shit.”

“I didn’t mean it. I just, I knew it would hurt your feelings and I wanted you to hurt like I did.”

Peter kissed her head, his hand cradling her cheek bringing her to his chest. She let out a soft sigh burying her head in his neck. “I just got caught up in keeping everyone safe that I forgot what I was protecting. I am so sorry for hurting you and doing anything that made you feel like I didn’t love you” He whispered in her hair, rubbing small circles on her back.

“I know. And I know I’ll forgive you for it, but can we start by at least having an anniversary night? It’s all I want, just you and me, no work or anything.”

“I’ll give you an anniversary week, how's that?” Peter bargains. “Make up for the missed birthday. We can go anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?” She smiles up at her husband, who gives her a loving look before kissing her cheek.

“Anywhere.” He confirms holding her closer. “I love you.” He assures her, pulling her legs over his thigh rocking her.

“I love you too.”

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #andrew garfield #tasm peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter x you #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter x y/n #peter parker x reader #mob peter parker x reader #mob!peter parker

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jackchampiongf13 · 5 months

Text

“One hell of a Women.”

Word Count: 1.0k

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n has gone through lots of trauma in one lifetime. She gets mad at her one and only true love for risking his life in battle even though they aren’t even together yet.

A/n: I am seriously sorry for not posting anything for like weeks but school has been kicking my ass. Thank you so much for the support on my last post I love you all sm!! Also ik I said I would only ever write for Jack but I feel back into my obsession rabbit hole with Neteyam so I thought why not write a series(maybe depending how I feel) on it. Love you all❤️❤️😝🦃

————————————————————————— From a young age you were very mature. You were always silly, but oh so wise. When you were 4 your mother was killed by your father. You had witnessed this gruesome attack but still held deep love for your father. This made you stronger and a mighty warrior. In the village many people knew this, including Jake Sully.

Your mother came from the same background as Jake Sully. Making you very close to his children. Your mother had come with Jake and Norm and ended up falling in love with a Navi. This man turned against you and your own mother after being bribed by Miles Quaritch to have everything he has ever wanted. But he had to kill his mate. And you, but you survived which he did not know of. Thinking he erased his entire past he moved on and helped Miles with his plan to kill Jake Sully.

Since you had no one anymore Jake gladly stood up to care for you and convinced his mate Neytiri, who also was happy to be there for you because of how close the two were.

—————————————————————————

“You fucking dumbass!” You shouted. No shouted is not good enough to describe how loud you were being. “What you thought that was ok to do? Lo’ak you are a stupid moron who does not take orders!” You flick his head making him jump back out from being surprised in pain.

“I- look I’m sorry I jus-“ he starts to get out but you flick his head again. “Listen to me. You don’t get to say sorry or say anything!” You start to go off on him but then his brother jumps in “Look Y/n this is my fault it’s ok let’s just go back ok?” Neteyam says in a tempting voice making you want to listen. “You too! You say no you don’t egg him on you idiot. I mean god I know he doesn’t listen but jesus drag him by his ear!” Lo’aks ears go down as he can’t even look you in the eyes, but Neteyam can. And he is. Making you almost stop. But you can’t.

“I’m older than the both of you! I get to yell at the both of you for being idiots. 1, Lo’ak are you kidding me? You get to have a role in the battle but you always need more! Fucking more? 2, your father, YOUR CLAN LEADER gave you a role to follow but what do you do instead? You don’t listen! I don’t care if he’s your father and you don’t care if you get in trouble by him but I do! I’m in charge of your asses out there and if either of you get hurt I get shit for months.” Neteyam starts to smirk while looking at the both of you. He’s thinking Lo’ak deserves this big ass lecture.

“AND YOU! Don’t even start to smirk. Say no! No Lo’ak! I will not let you mess up everything and HARM so many other people because you are selfish!” You yell pushing your finger into his beautifully chiseled chest. He stands there listening respectfully like the gentleman he is. “Guys I’m sorry but what were you thinking?! You could have hurt yourself Lo’ak! You could have killed your brother too! And I know I’m this moment it may not seem like it but I love you both so deeply and don’t want to see you get hurt.”

They both smile at you and you roll your eyes and walk off pissed. But god so heavily in love with Neteyam.

“I don’t understand what you see in that women Neteyam.” Lo’ak says while looking at his brother watch you walk away.

“She’s one hell of a women and it does stuff to me” Lo’ak frowns.

“Get a room freak.” Neteyam frowns at this comment but can’t help just rethink everything thay just happened and smile the slightest bit.

—————————————————————————

Hours later you are in your tent just laying on your cot. You start to feel sorry and want to go apologize realizing you were way to harsh. Especially on Neteyam. It’s not like he can control his crazy brother.

Before you even know it your legs are taking you to your crushes tent. You begin to walk slowly but your heart begins to beat faster so you pick up your pace just to get this over with.

“Nete are you here?” You know hoping he’s not. “Yes come in!” He shouts back. Oh shit.

Walk in and smile and he smiles back. He looks into your gorgeous eyes but you quickly look away to much of a coward to look at him.

“What’s up? You’re not one to apologize you are way to stubborn.” You giggle knowing this is very true. “I know but I can’t help but not say sorry. I was being very selfish back there. I know Lo’ak never listens you couldn’t do anything about him.” You start to fiddle with your fingers but he stops you and makes you look him in the eyes. “Look love it’s ok I thought it was funny you going off on him. He totally deserved that and now he’s scared of you.” you laugh again.

“I am sorry Nete it was so rude of me.” He takes your hand in his “Love stop apologizing.” Your cheeks betray you and start to blush hard for the second time at the nickname.

“Nete, I-“ suddenly a scream is heard and next thing you know your running towards the mysterious noise.

#neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader

136 notes · View notes

ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year

Text

quarter life crisis (j.h.s.)

a/n: this is wildly influenced by my own life so i have no idea if this is even relatable but you can have it anyways.

summary: Rejection from a potential grad school stings more than they realize.

inspired by taylor bickett’s “quarter life crisis” | part of the maroon universe

warnings: implied/referenced sex, swearing, age gap (reader is 22, Jake is 33), alcohol mentions, writing this was kind of cathartic,

word count: 5,757

Unfortunately, we are unable to offer you a place in our program at this time...

The bright screen wavers in front of you as you blink back the stinging of your tears. Your boyfriend’s hand rubs comfortably on your back as you shut the lid of the laptop, slumping down in your chair.

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend.

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend who was one of the best Naval aviators in the country.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just Stanford.”

Just Stanford, like it wasn’t one of the top schools in the country.

Aim for the skies, your Dad always said.

“Yeah.” You mutter, sliding off the chair at the counter of the kitchen island.

“You have like what, seven other programs?” He says, following you as you walk towards the fridge. “You’ll get into the program that’s meant for you. Besides, I selfishly didn’t want you going so far from me.”

You sigh, turning to face your boyfriend.

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend who wouldn’t ever know the sting of rejection.

Rejection and Jake Seresin were antonyms, words that would never go together, polar opposites.

Much like you and Jake.

Jake, a 33-year-old established Naval aviator with two confirmed kills who had his whole career right in front of him.

You, a 22-year-old college graduate with no direction and no idea what she was doing.

You and Jake were antonyms, people that would never go together, polar opposites.

“Yeah.” You say, realizing you’ve been quiet for too long as Jake’s eyebrows furrow.

“Sweetheart-” He says before cutting himself off, looking a bit at a loss. “What can I do to make it better?”

You shrug, giving him a small smile. “Nothing. Why don’t you go on to the Hard Deck without me? Think I’m gonna take a minute.”

He hesitates. “You sure?”

You breath out, crossing your arms as you nod. “Positive.”

He nods, still looking a bit skeptical as he leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “See you soon?”

“Yeah.”

You groan, rolling over as you blink awake. The TV is still on, the title screen for Treasure Planet pulled up as you search for your phone.

It’s a tough task, ensnared in a tangle of blankets and squinting from the too bright TV in a pitch black living room. You finally latch on to it, wedged between two cushions, quickly looking away as the bright screen lights up at you.

Your head pounds as you struggle to turn the brightness down on the phone, the cry you’d had earlier leaving your throat dry and head in need of a painkiller. You swallow, throat feeling like sandpaper as you struggle to sift through the 49 text messages, not to mention the 8 missed calls.

You don’t think you’d ever been so popular.

The texts are mostly from Jake, a handful from Brad and Nat and Reuben and even one from your Dad (Sorry to hear about Stanford kid).

The calls are all from Jake though.

Hey, it’s been a while, where are you? Call me back.

Hey, this is the fourth time I called you, why aren’t answering?

Hey, I’m starting to get worried. Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone. Please call me back.

I will drive to your house. I know where your Dad keeps the spare key. Please just call me back and tell me you’re okay.

Okay, okay, I get the hint. You want to be left alone. Just send a smoke signal that you’re alive or something? I’m just kind of worried about you. Okay, I- Okay, talk to you later.

You groan, a quick glance at the time telling you it’s almost midnight. You must’ve cried yourself to sleep for an unintended six hour nap. You shoot off a quick text to Jake, letting him know you just fell asleep. You respond to the meme Reuben sent you, confirming the two of you were still on for drinks with kids from your high school tomorrow, friends of his he still kept in touch with. You knew Max and Lauren and Joy and Tristan and Cody when you went to school, but you’d never been quite cool enough to hang out with them.

You pull the fridge open, searching for the leftover pizza best you can with the bright LED lights in the fridge.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, turning around as you see Maverick standing there in his pajamas, half-asleep.

“Getting food... sorry, did I wake you?”

He shakes his head, yawning. “Jake called, asked if we heard from you. You were asleep when we came in so I just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

You nod, glancing down at your phone. Jake still hadn’t texted you back. “Yeah, I just texted him.”

“Okay, well, I’m going back to bed. Sorry about the Stanford decision.”

You give a half-shrug. “Just Stanford.”

He blindly pats your shoulder before yawning again. “K, goodnight.” And then he’s shuffling back to the stairs to go to bed as you groan, shutting the fridge.

“You look pretty.” Penny comments as you walk into the Hard Deck.

“Thank you.”

“Got a hot date?” Amelia teases.

“Nope, just drinks with Reuben.”

“Let me go put this box in the back and then we’re good to go, yeah?” You nod as Reuben rounds the bar with the box in his hands. He pauses, turning back to you. “Do you remember Anna who went to high school with us?”

You blink, nodding slowly.

Of course you remembered her. She’d been your best friend for seven years.

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear she was engaged?”

You nod again as Jake’s arm slides around your waist. “I did hear that, yeah.”

“Well, her and her fiancé are in town, Tyler I think his name is, and so I invited them to go with us.”

You nod as Reuben turns, heading for the back.

“Hi sweetheart.” Jake whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“Sorry I disappeared last night.” You whisper back, but Jake doesn’t get a chance to respond as Bradley cuts through the conversation.

“Weren’t you and Anna, like best friends?” Bradley asks, taking a sip of his beer. “I remember her because she had a huge crush on me, which was always kind of strange. She was like my second sister.”

“Yeah, well Anna decided to stop being friends with me a long time ago.” You say with a sigh.

“You and Anna were friends?” Reuben asks, coming back into the room.

You nod. “For like seven years.”

“I never knew that.” He said, eyebrows furrowing. “I never even saw you guys talk to each other at school.”

You huff out a laugh, feeling somewhat bitter. “Yeah, because I wasn’t cool enough to be seen with her. It would ruin her street cred.”

“That’s shitty.” Jake comments, tugging you between his legs to rest his chin on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You give a half-shrug, blinking back the sting of tears yet again.

“It’s whatever.”

It’s not whatever.

You’d known Anna since you were eleven years old, since the two of you stood next to each other in line for your English class on the first day of the 6th grade, becoming friends because the two of you were wearing the same shirt but in different colors.

Anna was at your house more often than not. You’d been the first person she’d called when her brother got cancer. You’d walked to her house after your parents told you that they were getting a divorce. She used to come over whenever your Dad had cancer treatments and make pancakes with you and watch Glee so you didn’t have to think about it.

And then one day, at the start of your senior year, she’d cut you out. Blocked your number and stopped talking to you. She’d shown back up again before you started college but hadn’t stuck around very long that time either.

She’d disappeared for a few years and came back with a fiancé who was her soulmate and a successful job in a new city across the country.

And here you were, back in San Diego, with a shiny new grad school rejection and a dead end bartending job your Dad had hooked up for you and a boyfriend you hadn’t said I love you to yet.

Comparatively, one of you was doing better than the other and it wasn’t the one who had gotten screwed over.

It made your chest burn, thinking about how you had always thought you’d be there when she got engaged and had to find out from Instagram of all places.

Put a lot of things into perspective for you.

You blink, realizing you’ve been quiet for too long again as the group stares at you. “Sorry.”

Reuben watches you carefully. “You ready to go?”

You take a shaky breath, nodding. “Yep, let’s go.”

“Reuben!” Max yells as the two of you walk over. “Took you long enough!”

Reuben laughs, pulling Max into a hug before introducing you. Max nods, giving you a side hug as Lauren’s eyes light up at the sight of you.

“You were in our AP Literature class.” Max says, pulling away from you.

Lauren groans, leaning over the table to give you a hug. “Don’t bring that class up, Maxwell. I’m still not over the fact that we all failed the AP test.”

“Yeah, I’d like to not revisit the year Max and I dated.” Joy says, offering you a smile from across the table.

Max sticks out his tongue at her as your and Reuben sit at the table. “You remember Tristan, yeah?”

You nod as he raises his glass to you. “Good to see you again.”

“Glad to see we all survived that awful AP Lit class.”

“And then I don’t think you ever met my older brother Cody?”

“You got bumped up to my History class your freshman year, right?” Cody asks as he extends a hand over the table. You nod, confirming his words as you shake his hand.

“Hey Cody, I was in that class too!” Anna protests from the end of the table.

You offer the girl a small smile. “Hi Anna.”

“You know, I didn’t know the two of you were friends.” Reuben comments, gesturing between you and Anna.

“She was too busy pretending I didn’t exist.” You mutter under your breath, doing your best to disguise the words with a cough.

“Okay, why don’t you boys go get us drinks?” Lauren asks.

“So you can sit here and gossip and have girl talk?” Max says, raising his beer to his lips with a smirk.

“Yes. Get lost.” Joy deadpans. The boys grumble but follow her orders, even Anna’s fiancé following the group.

“So how have you been?” Lauren asks, a genuine small lighting up her face.

You shrug. “Pretty good.”

“Are you and Reuben dating?” Joy asks, earning a nudge from Lauren.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, God no. We’re just co-workers, pretty sure my Dad put him up to this, always saying I need to get out of the house. Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“How is your Dad?” Anna asks, taking Max’s chair so she could scoot closer.

“Good. He’s good. He and Maverick just celebrated their anniversary and he’s in remission.”

“So... backtrack, boyfriend?” Lauren says, propping her head up on a closed fist. “Please, do tell.”

“Can I see a picture?” Anna asks. You nod, pulling your phone out from your back pocket, swiping through for an acceptable photo of the two of you. You land on a picture from a barbecue Penny had hosted recently, a picture Javy had taken of the two of you when neither of you were paying attention.

His smile was wide, hair messy from rolling around in the grass all afternoon as the team played football. Your arms were around his neck, his hands on your waist as the both of you smile, deep in conversation.

“His name is Jake. He’s a Navy pilot and works with Bradley and Maverick. It’s how we met.”

“Dating a flyboy, I’m sure your dad is thrilled.” Anna comments, raising her eyebrows. “Isn’t he- He’s kind of out of your league. No offense.”

And there it is.

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend, out of your league.

Of course it was something you knew, but not something you needed to hear, least of all from her.

“Oh, he’s cute.” Lauren coos, peering over at the phone. “How serious is it?”

You shrug. “Dunno, we’ve only been dating for a few months. Just kind of seeing where it goes.”

“Don’t be fooled, Jake’s hopelessly in love with her.” Reuben comments as the boys appear back at the table.

“I don’t know about that.” You say, taking a gulp of the drink Reuben has set down in front of you.

“Is the sex good?” Joy asks, causing you to choke.

“What?” You choke out, lungs burning.

“Well, is it?”

“Um-”

“You don’t have to answer that.” Max intervenes, tossing a look at Joy.

“No, I’m with Joy. He looks like he knows how to fuck, I’m curious if he’s good.”

“Lauren!” Reuben protests, crossing his arms. “Back off.”

“I second that.” Tristan says.

“Oh, please like you didn’t hear about Joy’s sex life when she dated Max.” Lauren says, narrowing her eyes.

“So?” Anna prompts. “Is he good in bed?”

You shrink back, suddenly aware that everyone’s looking at you.

You had told Jake that you hadn’t really been with any one else. Not any one meaningful, anyways. You doubted that the sex was as good for him as it was you, but you hardly had anything to compare to.

“I mean, he’s a six foot Navy aviator with an ego. What do you think?”

Joy raises an eyebrow. “And what about size?”

“Absolutely not, do not answer that. I still have to serve him at the Hard Deck, please do not give me intimate details about Seresin’s dick size.”

“I wasn’t going to...?” You say, offering him a curious look. “You picked me up after the first time we hooked up. If I was going to tell you any intimate details, I would’ve by now.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what?” Lauren says, waving her hands.

You sigh. “Jake and I hooked up as a one-night stand before we ever officially got together. I sort of fled the morning after and Reuben picked me up.”

“Man’s knows how to leave a hickey, that’s for sure.” Reuben mutters.

“Okay, let’s talk about literally anything else.” Max says, cutting the conversation off. “You applying to grad schools or anything?”

“Yeah. Just kind of vibing at the moment, though.”

“Didn’t-” Rueben start, but then cuts himself off, frowning. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, please don’t bring that up right now.” You mutter. “What about you Max? What’ve you been up to?”

“Bring up what?” Anna asks.

Reuben sighs, glancing at you. “Nothing.”

It’s too late, everyone looking at you now.

“I just- I just found out I got rejected from a grad school yesterday. That’s all.”

That fact that it was Stanford you got rejected from goes unspoken.

“What happened to the gifted kid we all knew in high school?” Anna laughs.

“Burned out in college trying to be good enough for her parents.” You snap, shooting Anna a look. “She’s currently having a quarter-life crisis and would like everyone to please stop asking her about it, so Max, what have you been up to?”

The boy just blinks.

“How was drinks?”

“Awful.” You groan, all but collapsing on to the couch next to Maverick.

Reuben sighs, sticking in his hands in his pockets. “I don’t remember Anna being such a bitch.”

“You don’t maybe. I do.” You say, sitting up to look at him.

“Anna who always spent a lot of time around here?” Maverick asks. You nod and he clicks his tongue. “I never liked her all that much.”

You sigh. “How she behaved tonight? That’s how she treated me for seven years and I just let her. And yet she’s still the one who’s doing better.”

Reuben nods, conceding to you. “Well, if Anna doesn’t come with us again, would you want to come back out with us?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

“You don’t like them?”

“No, I think they’re great people. I don’t think they like me very much.”

Reuben scoffs. “What’re you talking about? Lauren and Max adore you. As does Tristan, they want you to come back out with us. You should’ve seen Lauren’s face when I said you were coming tonight.”

You sigh, unsure of how to explain to him that you felt like you would never escape who you were in high school, like they’d look at you and still see that girl you had been.

It really hadn’t been that long since you’d been at the high school that had made you feel suffocated with a life that felt dead-end.

Rueben was great, he’d always been. The best thing about him was his heart.

And his friends were great too.

But in high school, the lines had been drawn in the sand. You knew where you stood with them and it was about several social status levels below them.

Just because you now had a pretty, perfect boyfriend didn’t change that.

Reuben says your name, making you realize you’ve once against fallen silent for too long. “Sorry, what?”

“We’ll do next time on your turf, okay? You can pick wherever and whatever.”

You sigh, standing up from the couch. “Reuben, just leave it, okay? We’re never gonna gel as friends.”

“You and them? Or us?” He asks, with a frown on his face.

You wince, internally cursing your slip. “Reuben-”

“You still think I care that you might've been, what? A little dorky in high school? I saw a girl who was bright and intelligent and passionate. What did it matter that she went on a few tangents about the State of Union address because her Dad was there? You were one of the smartest people I interacted with in high school.”

You want to snap and say, yeah that’s the problem. I was the smartest kid you knew and knew exactly what I wanted and now I struggle to get up in the morning because I don’t even know who I am anymore.

But all you can do is sigh and look at Reuben. He scoffs, shaking his head, stalking to the front door before slamming it shut. Maverick winces as you struggle not to cry again.

“What the fuck was that about?”

“Nothing, I’m just a drama queen.” You mutter. “I’m going to bed.”

“Hi.” You look up from where you’re cleaning glasses to see Lauren and Max.

“Hey, Reuben’s just in the back if you want me to go grab him for you.” You offer, sticking a thumb to the back where Reuben was helping Penny sort the new delivery you got today.

Lauren shakes her head. “No. I just-” She sighs, looking at Max. “We just wanted to come say that well, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I love you, I think you’re great, and I’d love for you to come back out with us sometime.”

You huff out a laugh, setting the glass down. “Reuben put you up to this?”

She frowns. “No?”

Max sighs. “Look, I don’t even like Anna. None of us liked Anna, the only one who was friends with her was Reuben.”

“That’s only because she was a part of a different friend group.” Reuben says, appearing from the back with another crate of clean glasses.

You snort, grabbing the crate from him. “Funny to me you had multiple friend groups, I didn’t even have one.”

“Oh, c’mon, you had a friend group.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? Who, Reuben?”

He falters, clearly struggling think of someone.

“Reuben, I didn’t even get asked to prom. Let’s call a spade a spade, I was a loser.”

“I think you had your head so far in a book no one ever got a chance to see how great you are.” Lauren amends, offering you a kind smile. “And I’d love if you came and hung out with us again. And we will stop asking about your sex life, I promise.”

“Why, she doesn’t want to brag?” Jake drawls, appearing next to Lauren.

“No!” Reuben exclaims. “No intimate details about his dick size! I can’t do it!″

Jake gives Reuben a confused look as you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“This is your boyfriend?” Max asks. You nod. He extends a hand to Max and then Lauren.

“Jake Seresin.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lauren says. “You like escape rooms, right? We could do one of those? Boys versus girls.”

“I don’t know, the last time I did one of those it was with my Mom and I have it on good authority I’m a bit bossy.”

“The prehistoric ages, when your Mom was around.” Bradley says, appearing next to Jake at the bar.

“Shut up Bradshaw.” Natasha mutters, wedging herself in between him and Jake.

“Aw, she’s making friends. It’s like kindergarten all over again, this is so cute.” Coyote teases, appearing behind the group.

“Reuben and I both have next Monday off. How about laser tag?” You ask, ignoring Coyote even as your cheeks warm.

Reuben coughs awkwardly. “I’m gonna bow out of this one, thanks.”

Max startles. “What? Why?”

Reuben shrugs, not sparing you glance. “Cody and I already have plans.”

“Since when?” Lauren asks incredulously.

“Since last night.” You mutter under your breath. “It’s okay, I think I’m supposed to get dinner with my Dad’s that night. You know, family thing.”

“We are?” Bradley asks.

“No, just me and them.” You lie, praying Bradley just accepts it and moves on.

Lauren nods unconvinced. “Well, our door is always open. Just give us a holler, we’ll be around.”

“What happened to dinner with your Dad’s?”

You grunt, picking up another rock and tossing it in the lake.

Lake Murray had become little more than a pond over the years, but with the park nearby and walking trails all around it, it became a great place to come to hide away when you needed to think.

“You know, you are one hard lady to find.”

“Shut up Jake.” You mutter.

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend was a liar. He’d had your location since the time you’d gotten too drunk and had just hit share indefinitely when he’d come to pick up from the bar.

“Is everything okay?”

“No.” You say honestly, not having been okay in months.

Still, it stung even more today, waking up to another rejection from a grad school program, this time from your alma mater.

Jake sighs. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

He huffs. “I’m worried about you.”

The Why? sits in your throat, crushed by the guilt that you’ve been making your pretty, perfect boyfriend worry about you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Is what you mumble out instead, kicking another rock, watching it tumble down the edge towards the lake.

“Would you please talk to me?” He all but begs, a hint of desperation in his voice. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you got the Stanford decision back and I want to know what’s up with my girlfriend.”

His girlfriend, who he hasn’t even said I love you to yet, making you wonder if he ever would.

Rationally, you knew it was early, especially if this relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It was unreasonable to expect Jake to return your feelings and it was unreasonable to expect Jake to commit to a girl who didn’t have her shit together.

“It’s nothing.” You say, keeping your eyes on the deep blue water, slowly lapping at the shore. If you strain your ears you could hear the screaming of kids at the park across the way.

You hear him shuffle behind you, moving closer, but he doesn’t sit down. “Sweetheart.” He says, but stops.

You sigh, your heart aching with want, begging you to turn around give him a hug. To let him pull you close and run his fingers through his hair, whispering that it’ll be okay and that he isn’t go anywhere.

Maybe it would be better if the two of you broke up.

Maybe he would be better off without you.

You’re quiet for too long because Jake is sighing and you can hear him take a few steps back. “You want to be alone?”

You nod.

He leaves.

You blink, the tears stinging at your eyes as Lauren posts a picture of her and Joy with a handful of other girls that had been friends with them in high school.

my girls xx is what she posts on the story of them out getting drinks and you have to close the app before the stories can continue on.

You sigh, letting the phone rest on your chest as you hear Maverick downstairs, crooning along to Voulez-Vous as he cooks dinner with your Dad. You should put your phone away, pull yourself together enough to go down there, and spend time with them. It’d probably do wonders for you to take a break from your phone, from social media, where it feels like everyone is living a better life than you would ever have.

Your phone buzzes on your chest but you don’t bother to check it, still just listening the commotion from downstairs. Maverick has set the fire alarm off again.

There’s a knock against your window, causing you to startle. With big windows that overlooked the ocean, birds would occasionally fly into the glass, but this was definitely more of a knock than a thud.

You lift your head, catching sight of your boyfriend’s blonde hair shining in the setting evening sun, casting a warm orange glow over the room.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself, pulling yourself off the bed and over to window, pulling it open. He grins at you.

“Pizza delivery.”

You blink, staring at him. “How the fuck did you get up here? Why are you up here?”

He shrugs. “A magician never tells their secret and you weren’t answering your phone. C’mon, come have a picnic with me.” He nods his head down to the sandy area just off of your back porch. You know it’s conveniently just out of sight for either of your Dads if they were to walk past the sliding glass doors. You sigh, shaking your head. “Give me two minutes.”

He nods as you shut the window. You pad down the stairs, slipping into the kitchen for the bottle of champagne leftover from your grad party months ago. Maverick grins at you as you pull the bottle from the fridge.

“Doing some day drinking?” He asks.

“Something like that.” You say, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. He eyes them. “In case, you know, I spill.” He nods, giving you an unconvinced look.

“Jake’s outside, isn’t he?” He whispers.

“Maybe.” You whisper back as your Dad emerges form the pantry.

“What’re we whispering about?” He asks and Maverick gives him a grin.

“About how I find you so sexy, baby-”

You groan, cutting the man off. “Gross, stop. I’m going outside to enjoy the sunset.”

Your Dad nods, too preoccupied with Maverick. You’d tell them they better be careful or the food will burn again but it’d distract your Dad and you know Maverick is giving you an opportunity to get outside unquestioned.

You slip out on to the patio, catching sight of Jake resting on the blankets he’s laid out, pizza boxes open in front of him.

You set the champagne down along with the glasses, catching sight of the white box. You open it as he pops open the champagne, revealing the chocolate-covered strawberries.

“Pizza and chocolate-covered strawberries? Thought you said the bar was in hell if this was romance.” You tease, sliding the box back across the blankets. He huffs out a laugh as you settle down on to the blankets.

“Well, maybe I could be learning a thing or two from Troy Bolton.”

Your head rests against Jake’s thigh, his head propped up near your feet. You feel warm, the alcohol and good food coursing through you as you watch the setting sun turns blood red at the horizon. Jake’s other hand is resting on your foot, thumb gently running over your ankle.

“Thanks for doing this.” You say and he gives you a smile. A genuine one, not the lazy grins he usually he puts on for the rest of the world.

“Anything for you darling.” He pauses for a moment, his movements on your ankle continuing. “But I do want to talk about why you’ve been so weird lately.”

You shrug, shifting. “I’m just feeling weird, I guess. Call it a quarter life crisis or whatever, but I’m just feeling a bit strange.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I’m not where I thought I’d be at 22, which is so stupid because I have my whole life laid in front of me and yet I- I always thought I’d have my life figured out. I’d know what I want to do and where I’m going. I’d have my forever relationship and my forever group of friends. But I’m getting rejected from grad schools left and right, I’ve got no solid group of friends. I hang out with my pseudo-brother’s friends most of the time and work a job my Daddy got for me. I live at home, for Christ’s sake. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy being with you because I l-” You pause, cutting yourself off, almost reeling at the fact that you'd almost let the words slip out.

You loved Jake Seresin but you were uncertain he loved you in return.

“I do like being with you. But all my friends from school, they’re engaged or married and have solid careers or amazing grad school offers and best friends they have game nights with and weekly drinks and I don’t know, they fucking meal prep together. And it’s added on to the fact that I’m like sort of friends with Reuben now, who I always thought was so cool in high school. You know, he had that life. He went to the football games and had dates to dances and surfed and had friends to hang out with. Still does. And I’m realizing I’m sort of starting to grieve a life I didn’t have in high school. You know, a life I could’ve had if my life had been just a bit more stable. My Dad had his cancer treatments and my parents were locked into this nasty court battle over child support. Not even over me but how much money I was worth. Maverick was never around, Bradley too, and I’m just-” You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m upset because I could’ve had that life in high school if I wasn’t busy taking care of myself and making sure I stayed alive. If I wasn’t busy trying to make it into college because I knew it was the only way I’d make something of myself, the only way I’d be worth something in my parent’s eyes.”

You sit up, the tears slipping down your face. “I feel like a failure. And even more than I feel like a failure, I’m angry at losing out on all I could’ve had but didn't get because of my parents.” Your voice is raw and wet as Jake sits up too, pulling you close to his chest. “My whole identity for so long has been about my academic success and now that the academics don’t want me, I have no idea who the fuck I am.”

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispers into your hairline, pressing a soft kiss there.

You hiccup. “How? I’m a mess.”

He chuckles, pulling back slightly. “I’m proud of you because you did survive. I agree, it’s not fair to you that you had to raise yourself. I’m proud of you though because you got through all that and now you get this amazing opportunity to learn who you really are without all the books and smarts.”

You shrug, glancing away from him.

He sighs, cupping your chin. “Sweetheart, just because the academic success goes away doesn’t take away from how wonderfully brilliant you are. You are so intelligent, and I, for one, am so excited to see who you become in this next stage of your life. I think I’ve already gotten glimpses of her and I-” He swallows, pushing some of your hair away from your face. “I love her so fucking much.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you look back to him.

“I love you sweetheart.” He licks his lips nervously, eyes darting around your face as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I know this is probably bad timing but- but it sounds like you needed to hear it. And I know I don’t fix it or make it go away, but- I’m here.” A new wave of tears hits you and Jake pulls you back to his chest. “I know I’m not high school or prom or Stanford, but I-”

“Jake, shut up.” You say, wiping at your eyes as you try to push the tears back. He snaps his mouth shut, falling silent, even as he hand falls to your waist to rub circles into your side. “I love you. So much, you have no idea.”

He smiles. “Good to know.”

You groan, wiping at your eyes again. “God, I ruined our date. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, no.” He says firmly, scooting back. “I’m glad you felt like you could talk to me about this. I get that it’s probably hard to voice and I’m happy to know you’re comfortable talking about these things with me.”

You sniff, giving him a half-shrug. “Still-”

“No. None of that. C’mere.” He says, pulling you to his chest and then laying down on the blankets. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too.” You whisper back, nuzzling closer into him as he runs his fingers through your hair. You sit there for a while, the sun going from red hues to a dusky purple.

“I have a question.” He asks.

“Go for it.”

“Why did Reuben make that comment about not wanting to know my dick size?”

You groan.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #maroon

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