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strniohoeee · 4 months

Text

Not Mine

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: A glimpse into the rise and downfall of Y/N’s relationship. Torn between wanting to move on with her life, but also wanting to relive the past. Constantly struggling, but will she figure it out in the end?🫂

Warnings⚠️: None really just get your tissue boxes ready😔. This one’s longggg too LOLLL

Song for the imagine: Strange- Celeste

Isn’t it strange

How people can change

From strangers to friends

Friends into lovers

And strangers again?

Day 374

Another day slipping from my fingers. My breathing shallow as my eyes blinked slowly. Staring out my bedroom window as the rain trickled down the glass offering me a reflection of who I hated.

I’d like to think I’m numb to the feeling at this point, but everytime I hear his name, or see his face my chest physically hurts. Some sick and twisted part of me indulged in this feeling. I wanted to feel pain. I thrived off of it. I mean it makes us stronger in the end doesn’t it?

200 days pondering. I’ve spent 200 days trying to scoop my life together. When you’re left with no true explanation your mind tends to go overboard. Filling the cracks with reasons and excuses that you were never given.

He wasn’t mine, and I was so blind to it. Trying to fix someone who so badly didn’t care. Too blind by infatuation to see how he truly felt.

Day 180

“I just don’t understand why” I stated staring down at my empty cup

“You can’t sit here and try to figure out someone who was never even open to you fully in the first place” my friend said to me

“I mean I know, but why give me this false hope. Make it seem like you saw a future with me. When he didn’t” I said swallowing thickly

“It’s been 6 days, do not beat yourself up over it okay? You’re killing yourself trying to rack your brain looking for the whys?” She said caressing my arm

“ I reached out to him yesterday” I said sniffling

“And?” She asked looking at me with a soft smile

“He said he couldn’t see me this weekend, but maybe another time” I replied breaking down

“Please don’t cry okay, you’re going to be okay” she said pulling me and hugging me

Day 374

I got up from my chair and walked out to my living room. I inhaled a shaky breath as I looked around the dimly lit room. My eyes landed on my coffee table. I trembled at the sight of the Polaroids of us littered along the mahogany wood, the vase he got me with nothing in it, and the books he purchased for me.

I started to breathe heavily and my hands began to shake.

“I HATE YOU” I screamed, shoving everything off the table with my fists. Breaking down as I heard the glass shatter and the books tumble down

“I hate your stupid fuck boy hair cut, I hate your cold blue eyes, I hate your stupid dry skin and your cracked lips, I hate your ugly smile….I HATE YOU” I screamed the last part as I banged my fists on the table

Dry heaving from the panic attack I was putting myself through.

Day 1

My eyes browsed the pastry display as I waited in line. These all looked so good, and it was hard to pick just one, but finally my eyes landed on the last heart shaped cookie on the rack

“Next!” I heard someone yell out, my eyes darting their way

“Good morning” I said offering a smile

“Good morning! What can I get for you today” the older woman said smiling at me

“May I have a small hot latte, and the heart shaped cookie right there” I said pointing over to the glass

“Sure thing honey” she said ringing me up

After paying she turned around and began to make my latte while I waited.

As I waited I felt a presence next to me, so I looked over locking eyes with a pair of blue ones. I offered him a smile and he returned the favor

“One latte and one heart cookie” the woman said handing me my stuff

“Thank you” I said grabbing my stuff and smiling at her

“Have a good day” she said

“You too” I replied and began to walk away, nodding my head at the guy who was next to me

I left the cafe and walked to the bookstore down the road. I was browsing around when I decided to walk into the horror aisle

I was looking at some books, mindlessly walking sideways when I bumped into someone.

“Oh sorry” I said looking up, and meeting those same blue eyes

“You’re good” he said smiling at me

“I was walking while looking at the books” I said looking over at the shelves

“You’re heart shaped cookie girl” he said pointing at me

“That would be me” I said laughing

“Those are my favorite, and you got the last one” he said fake pouting

“Would you like it?” I asked him offering him the bag

“Oh no no, thank you though” he said with his hand on his chest

“So you like horror too?” I asked him

“Uhhh no” he said laughing at bit

“Well then I think you’re in the wrong aisle” I said giggling

“I actually don’t read” he said putting his hands in his pockets

“Then why are you at a bookstore?” I asked tilting my head

“Well I like to look at the covers, I’m more of a visual type of guy” he replied

“Ahhh makes sense” I said nodding my head

“But uh don’t let me stop you from looking” he said stepping away from the shelf

I nodded at him and began to look at some books. My eyes landed on a Stephen King book, and I grabbed it immediately

“I’m going to have a seat at those tables and read this book a bit, you can join if you’d like” I said looking over at the boy

“I wouldn’t want to infiltrate” he said back

“Oh no never, join me” I stated smiling at him

We sat at the table, and I took the cookie out of the bag breaking it in half.

“Have half” I said looking up at him

“No don’t worry” he said nodding at me

“Please I insist” I said handing him the cookie

Finally he obliged and began to eat it. We sat chatting for a while about random stuff. When suddenly my phone rang, and I realized I was late to meeting up with my friend

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, but I’m actually supposed to be somewhere right now and I’m totally late” I said scooting back from the chair

“Oh no worries” he said standing up as well

“It was nice talking to you…” I said looking at him

“Matthew, but I go by Matt” he said sticking his hand out

“Well Matt it was nice talking to you, I’m Y/N” I said shaking his hand

“It was great talking to you too” he said smiling at me

“Here let me give you my number. I’d like to talk again” I said nervously

“Yeah sure” he said taking his phone out

After we exchanged numbers I went on with my day

Day 5

Matt and I had met for dinner to catch up. I was enjoying my time with him. He was truly a cool person to hang around, and I slowly felt myself looking for him in my day to day interactions.

“So Matt what brings you to LA” I said looking up at him

“Well I just moved here with my brothers. We’re from Boston and we came here for our jobs” he said

“Ohhh nice what do you do?” I asked taking a sip of my drink

“Well we’re social media influencers” he said laughing a bit

“Oh that’s nice” I said smiling at him

He had shown me their pages and what they do, and I found it fascinating. They were also pretty famous might I add. I felt special hanging out with him, not going to lie.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked him

“No” he replied

“Is it hard because you go between LA and Boston?” I asked

“No I just prefer to be alone” he said chuckling

“Ahhh I see” I said nodding my head

“I just don’t believe in the whole love and soulmate stuff” he replied

“No? How come” I asked him

“I mean what even is love you know? People just throw that word around, and it just ends up hurting people. I like to keep my peace and I like to be single. Less problems” he said

“That’s true” I said nodding my head

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked

“Oh no, but I do believe in love and soulmates. I just haven’t found mine” I said laughing

Matt nodded his head and we continued to eat. The rest of the night was amazing, sharing our philosophies on different topics and truly enjoying each others companies

Day 30

Matt and I had been hanging out pretty much everyday, and I truly enjoyed it. Of course I had my own friends, but he was a breath of fresh air.

The only other issue was that I began to have feelings towards him. I tried not to because I know he didn’t believe in love or girlfriends. But he made it hard when he was exactly what I looked for in a man

“You know I enjoy this a lot” he said as we sat on a bench eating ice cream

“Yeah? Me too” I said looking over at him

“It’s nice to just get out with you and have a good time I like it” he said eating his ice cream

“I like it too” I replied

“And I like you too” he said shrugging his shoulders

“I like you too Matt” I replied looking over at him again

That night Matt had walked me home since I wasn’t too far from the ice cream shop.

“Well this is me” I said pointing to the building

“Thank you for coming out tonight” he said

“Thank you for inviting me I had a blast” I said

“Well I’ll let you go now” he said opening his arms for a hug

I hugged Matt and in that moment I felt like my dreams were slowly becoming a reality.

When we pulled away we stopped and stared at one for a moment. Our eyes searched for an answer when suddenly he leaned down and kissed me.

Our lips locked in such a beautiful kiss.

That night when we parted ways my heart thumped with adrenaline. My mind racing with all the possibilities of what we could be.

Day 50

“This view is amazing” Matt said looking at the city line beneath us

“Isn’t it? I come up here when I want to think and clear my mind, but it’s just so beautiful I had to bring you” I said

“There’s not many people here” he replied looking around

“Well yeah, it’s a secret spot” I said smiling at him

“You took me to your secret spot? Am I that special?” He asked

“I guess so” I said biting my bottom lip

He came up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist as he leaned his head on my shoulder. Swaying us side to side slowly.

“When I want to clear my mind I got to this small beach that not many people know about in Boston. It’s actually a place I discovered when my first girlfriend broke up with me. I was so hurt and angry that I just kept driving and landed there” he said looking at the skyline

“I’ve never told anyone that” he whispered

My heart fluttered at this. Being able to break down his walls to get him to tell me more about himself made me warm inside. I think I was changing him….

“I thought you didn’t believe in love?” I said in a whisper

“Well after her I don’t. She completely destroyed me, and I vouched to never give my heart to anyone again” he replied looking at me

“And what about me?” I said laughing

“You’re different” he said tapping my chin with his thumb

Day 63

Matt and I had just had sex for the first time. I mean it was amazing he was so careful with me like I was a dainty feather. He took his time, caressing my every inch, kissing all my insecurities away. He made me feel loved.

My mind moved as we laid in his bed, the sheets keeping us tangled together. The sunlight kissing his skin as he laid on my chest lightly snoring.

His right hand gently placed on my torso as my right hand raked through his hair. Massaging his scalp and occasionally running down his back as the goosebumps rose on his skin.

A smile growing on my face as Matt laid in my arms. My mind playing all our possibilities repeatedly. Matt made me the happiest girl in the world, and I didn’t even know if he realized how special this made me feel

Day 97

My mind began to race as insecurities began to cloud my mind. We’ve been seeing each other for well over two months now, and I wasn’t sure what we were?

I paced around my living room as Matt sat on the couch watching me.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He asked me, causing me to stop in my tracks

“What….what are we?” I asked looking at him

“What do you mean?” He asked

“I mean us Matt. Were sleeping together, going on dates sending each other gifts, but you haven’t said I was your girlfriend” I replied

“I liked you Y/N a lot, and who cares about labels okay? I want to be with you and that’s all” he said

“I guess…I guess you’re right” I said nodding at him

Day 132

I slammed the door behind me as I stomped into my kitchen throwing my stuff down. I grabbed a bottle of water and began to drink it

“What's the issue now?” Matt asked throwing his hands up in defense

“The issue? Matt some girl was practically throwing herself on you, and you didn’t do a single thing, but when I tell her to back off I’m the problem” I said walking over to him

“Well I can handle my own. I told her I wasn’t interested, and the way you acted was embarrassing” he said

“Matt this happens all the time, and I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but I’ve had enough of this shit happening” I said shoving past him

“It’s not that serious okay” he said

“You know what? It is serious Matthew. I don’t get this whole casual thing. I want to be your girlfriend. You don’t take me on dates, buy me flowers and have sex with me and say you want this to be casual and just a friends with benefit type of thing. FRIENDS DONT DO THIS” I said raising my voice

“I don’t know what you expect from me. I’ve made this clear from the beginning” he said sighing

“Get out….JUST GET THE FUCK OUT” I yelled opening the front door

Matt left and I slammed the door behind him. Falling down and breaking down on the ground. Why was he being so cruel to me? I didn't get it.

Day 135

I hadn’t spoken to Matt in 3 days, and it was truly bothering me. I prayed he would call or, or show up at my door, but I was disappointed when I got nothing.

I paced my living room anxious and biting my nails contemplating if I should head over to Matt’s house.

After some more bantering with myself I opened my front door to walk out, when I saw Matt getting ready to knock on my door.

“I…what are you doing here?” I asked him

“I came here to say sorry” he said his head hung low

“It’s okay Matt. I just need you to tell me that we aren’t just friends” I said as I moved out the way to let him walk in

He slowly began to walk in without saying a word when I stopped him

“Please” I said in a whisper

“I can’t give you that because it’s not the truth. I’ve made it clear from the beginning I don’t do love. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want” he said looking at me

Like an idiot I ignored his statement and let him into my house. I swore up and down I could change his mind and make him see that we were meant to be together.

Day 171

Matt and I went bowling which was his favorite thing to do, but the whole time it was like his mind was elsewhere.

“I got a strike babyyyy” I said doing a dance that he loved seeing me do

“Nice” he said offering me a half smile

“What’s wrong?” I asked sitting down next to him

“Nothings wrong” he said looking over at me

“I can tell by your demeanor, are you okay?” I asked again reading his face for an answer

“I’m just tired is all” he said

“We can leave, we can get something to eat or head back to my house” I said smiling at him

“I think…I think I’m going to call it a night” he said standing up

“Oh okay” I said also standing up

We closed our lane and headed outside. He waited for a Uber while my house was two blocks down.

“I’ll uh I’ll see you in a few days” he said nodding at me

“Umm yeah sure” I said bluntly

He kissed me on the cheek as his Uber pulled up. He got in without saying anything else, and didnt even look at me as it drove away.

I walked back home that night confused, hurt and angry. Why was he being this way with me?

Day 174

Matt had asked me to meet him at the cafe we first met around 12. I had gotten there around 12:05, and met him at a table in the back

“Hi” I said sitting down

“Hi” he said staring at me

“Sooo what’s up” I said getting nervous

“I think we should part ways” he said swallowing thickly

“What?” I said as my brows furrowed

“I mean we’re just not meant to be. We fight all the time now and I find no joy in what we do” he said blinking

“I mean couples fight all the time right? This is normal we just have to learn to talk it out” I said reaching out to grab his hand

“The thing is I don’t like who I force myself to be around you. What we had was great, but I’m not ready for a relationship and I can’t give you what you want” he stated

“But…but we can work this out. We can find a middle ground” I said fighting for my life

“No Y/N….we’re over” he stated

I looked at him and blinked. When I saw how serious he was I got up from the table and walked away.

I looked back and prayed he’d be lookin for me, but he wasn’t. He didn’t even care to watch me walk out of his life.

That day ruined me

Day 200

I laid in bed most days tossing and turning as the memories of us played in my mind. Haunted by these memories I often forced myself to sleep, or to cry. My wales so loud I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts

Day 43

“So how’s it going with Matt?” My friend asked

“Oh it’s going amazing! I’m head over heels for this guy, and I think we’re going to end up together” I told her

“Tell me more about him” she said as her eyes lit up

“Oh god I love his hair, the wavy brown locks, and I love his blue eyes I swear I could see a glimpse of us in them, and I love his skin how soft it is and how his cheeks flush when I compliment him, I love his lips they’re so plump and moisturized all the time and I love his smile. His teeth are gorgeous and his smile lights up any room he walks into” I said smiling like an idiot

“Oh god… you really are in love with him” she said laughing

“I guess so” I said laughing with her

Day 205

It was a bit over a month now since I last spoke to Matt. I mean I used to see him everywhere and it’s just like he disappeared off the face of the earth.

My chest physically hurts every single day. I was so stupid to think I could change him. He made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want a girlfriend.

How stupid and blind could I be to think he’d want me. I mean no one ever wants me in the end.

I killed myself for a guy who didn’t care.

Day 387

Here I was finally stepping out of the house after a week of trapping myself away. There was a crafting fair in my area, and I really needed to get out and walk and smell the fresh air.

I stopped at a few booths and purchased some things. Trying my hardest not to purchase things that reminded me of Matt.

After the last booth I decided to have a seat at a small table as I watched children play in the street. A smile creeped on my face as I watched them.

So pure and innocent, and life has yet to screw them over. On how I’d pay to go back in time and be a kid again. As I continued to watch them my thoughts were interrupted

“Y/N?” I heard to the left of me

My brows furrowed and I turned my head looking over. My breath hitching in my throat.

“Matt?” I said confused

“How have you been?” He asked smiling at me and taking a seat

“Oh I’ve been good” I said offering him a smile

“That’s great. I haven’t seen you in so long. You look good” he said

“Thank you, i know it’s been a long time” I said laughing a bit

“What are you up to these days?” He asked me

“Uhh you know just working, reading and writing” I said

“Did you ever finish that book you started writing? It was…it was really good” he said

“Oh man I forgot about that book….Im not even sure where it is” I said

“You should look for it, and finish it. I’d love to read it” he said smiling at me

“Maybe one day” I said nodding at him

“How have you been?” I asked him

“Me? Oh I’ve been good just working with my brothers still can you believe we’re at 5 million subscribers” he said smiling

“Congrats you guys deserve it” I said

“Thank you….wow this is just amazing seeing you again” he said looking at me with soft eyes

“Yeah it is” I said swallowing thickly

He went to speak when a girl appeared behind him

“Oh there you are Matt” she said walking over to him

“Oh hi” he said standing up

“Uhh Crystal this is Y/N, and Y/N this is Crystal my girlfriend” he said

“Nice to meet you” I said, shaking her hand. My stomach twisting into knots

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Matt has told me so much about you. He says he’s learned a lot about life from you” she said

“That’s great to hear” I said glancing over at Matt

“Well um I don’t want to keep you, it was great seeing you” Matt said

“Ditto” I said

With that they gave me one last glance and walked away.

My mind wrapped around the word ‘girlfriend’……I wasn’t even sure how to feel truly.

Day 426

I had driven up to the hilltop I always went to when I needed to think. After splitting with Matt I refused to come up here. The memories paining me too much.

I was ready to start fresh, and let go of the past. I wanted to be released of Matt’s shackles, and I needed to start somewhere. So the hilltop was the first thing that came to mind.

I watched the busy street bustle beneath me as I let my mind race freely. Coming to the realization that love and soulmates were all bullshit.

Lies fed to us through books, music and movies. It’s a nice thought, but in the end it doesn’t really work out.

I couldn't be angry at anyone. I mean this is just the fact of life.

I let a smile creep on my face as I sniffled. Finding peace of mind was something I looked forward to and I had to take it day by day.

I let the wind rustle through my hair as I watched the trees sway and the golden sun kiss my skin. Life was beautiful and I was taking it for granted.

“Y/N” I suddenly heard from behind me

I quickly turned around and met eyes with Matt

“Matthew” I said giving him a weak smile

“Strange finding you here” he said walking over to me

“This is my secret place” I said batting my tears away

“I suppose that’s true” he replied laughing and sitting next to me

“Congrats on uhh the girlfriend” I said looking at the skyline

“Don’t say it unless you mean it” he said bumping his shoulder into mine

“Well then in that case my lips are sealed” I said

He let out a breath of air and looked at the skyline

“So uhh are you okay?” He asked after a moment of silence

“I will be” I said kicking the gravel around

“You know it sucks realizing everything you believe in is false” I said wiping my nose

“What do you mean?” He asked looking over at me

“You know soulmates and love and all that shit, you were right” I said looking over at him

“No” he said shaking his head

“Yes don’t look at me like that” I said rolling my eyes

“It was meant to be with Crystal and I. I mean if I never stopped her to tell her she dropped her bag…we wouldn’t be where we are now. And the whole time I would think you were right” he said

“No you didn’t” I said laughing

“Yes! Yes I did” he said laughing too

“It’s just….its just me you weren’t right about, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one for you” he said looking at me as he blinked a few tears away

I looked at him and let a few tears fall. Someone I thought was truly mine…but he was not mine. I was the person who paved the way for him to find who he truly needed in life

“You never wanted to be my boyfriend, but here you are” I said nodding my head

“I know, but it just happened” he said

“I don’t understand…I don’t understand how it just happened” I said shaking my head

“I just woke up one day and I knew….I knew that she was who I could spend the rest of my life with” he replied wiping his eye

“Knew what?” I said as my voice got shaky

“Knew what I was never sure of with you” he said looking at me

Those words pained me….they did, but I couldn’t be mad at him. I can not hate someone who doesn’t want me, it's not their fault.

Day 78

“Matt how do you know believe in love I don’t get it” I said laughing as I played with his hair

“It’s simple, I just don’t. What does it even mean? I say this all the time” he said laughing

“How do you know you’re not in love is the real question” I replied back

“Well how would I know?” He said running his hands up my thigh as he laid on my stomach

“I don’t know…..you just wake up one day and you just know” I replied back

To this he stood quiet, and it made me wonder if he was falling in love with me

Day 426

“Yeah” I said ina whisper

Matt pulled me in for a hug and rubbed my back. A hug I so badly needed and I gripped onto him letting a few more tears slip from my eyes. I thought what we had was real, and it wasn’t. And this would be the last time I would really feel Matt

He pulled away and looked into my eyes smiling at me

“I should go, but I’m really happy to see that you’re doing good” he said standing up and walking away

“Matt” I called out and he turned around

“I really do hope that you’re happy” I said standing up

He looked at me for a few seconds licking his lips and flashing a toothy smile at me. Nodding his head and whispering a thank you.

He turned back around and walked away.

I sat back down on the bench running my hands through my hair as I let the tears fall.

This…this is where I would be leaving any memory and may hope of Matt. He would stay here on this hilltop overlooking LA.

Day 574

Dear Diary,

It’s been 400 days since I parted ways with Matt. It’s been over a year and I can finally say that I am happy and okay. The very last conversation with Matt was hard, but it was needed.

I needed him to let me go, so that I could let him go. He helped me understand it all, and for that I’m thankful. He cleared a path for me that would make it easier for me to go on with life.

Although I spent many nights praying that he and I were meant for each other deep down I’m glad that we weren’t. I’m glad he was in my life when he was because who knows who I would be right now. I’m forever grateful he was put into my life to show me the beauty and the pain of it all.

I still have love for Matt, but in a different way than most would think. He helped me find peace of mind, and although it was painful and agonizing torture I’m glad I went through it.

He showed me that there’s much more in life and even though he was not mine I could push forward with myself. He opened my eyes to a lot of things, and I’m grateful for it. He’s doing well with his girlfriend, and I couldn’t be more happy for him. I sometimes find myself wondering what that would be like if it was him and I, but I try not to think about it.

He’s helped me be a better me. I finished my book finally and had it published. It’s actually doing really well, and even showed his support. Saying even though he doesn’t read he finds himself going back to my pages and re reading them. He really is the best thing that has happened to me.

Even though he didn’t make it to the end of my story I’m still grateful he was a part of the chapters. And I will always be grateful to be a part of his story, watching from the sidelines as one of his cheerleaders.

He deserves it all!

So with that diary I am finally closing this chapter of my life, and beginning a new one. Manifesting the life that I have always wanted for myself and happy where I’m heading.

This is the last page of this diary, and it’s such a bittersweet ending to end this right here and wonder if it’ll continue on a new page in a fresh book…..I guess time will tell, and with that I’m off to new ventures!

Sincerely,

Y/N

I shut my book and closed my pen. Rolling my shoulders as I looked out the cafe window. Smiling at the young children playing in the streets….the beauty of life!

I finished my coffee and threw it in the trash. Stretching and cracking my neck as I gathered my journal and pen. I began to walk away

“Excuse me miss” I heard from behind me

“Uh yes” I said turning around

“You left your bag” he said walking over to me with it

“Oh shoot! My minds all over the place” I said shaking my head and grabbing my bag from him

“Oh man I get that!” He said laughing

“Well thank you….” I said waiting for his name

“Oh Samuel! But I go by Sam” he said sticking his hand out for me to shake

A chill ran up my spine….i've come full circle again

“Well thank you Sam, I’m Y/N” I said shaking his hand

“You’re welcome Y/N” he said smiling at me

“I’ll see you around” I said nodding at him

“Yeah I’ll see you around” he said moving his glasses up with his right hand

My eyes immediately darted to the book in his hand….

The same Stephen King book I picked up when I met Matt.

What a small world….

The End

Alright this one was LONGGGGG, but I loved writing it🥺, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. This will not be a series just a quick little imagine where the ending is up to the reader🤭. I love yall and I hope you enjoyed reading it🥹🖤🖤 Also this is based on 500 Days of Summer because that movie broke meeee😭

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo x reader #Matthew Sturniolo imagines #Spotify

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 4 months

Text

One in Eleven Million (ch. 8)

damian wayne x reader x jon kent

(A/N): So about that getting chapter out quicker thing...I blame tech week

Series masterlist can be found here.

warnings: a little bit of cursing, mild anxiety, airports

wc: ~1500

Soon apparently meant thirty minutes. The plane’s landing gear hit the tarmac hard. The few shrieks were outweighed by the many sighs of relief, you own included. Jon yanked the window open, squinting. The view of the tarmac went from blurred to clear in the morning sunlight as the plane slowed.

“Tt, finally. Though Philadelphia would not have been my first choice as a welcome back to the East Coast.” Damian pulled his gaze from the window, bending down to resecure the closures on his backpack. Jon’s eyes stayed glued to the window.

“Are all plane landings this rough?”

“Yeah, usually,” you replied. “But it means we’re on the ground, so I don’t mind.”

“Welcome to Philadelphia, ladies and gentlemen. The local time is 9:32 am and the temperature is 47 degrees Fahrenheit. Apologizes for the early landing but glad we all made it safe and sound. Remember to stop at the help desk if you do need to get your luggage routed to baggage claim or if you would like to take a voucher and find another method of transportation to Gotham. Thank you all for your patience and cooperation and thank you for flying with us.”

“If I ever see the inside of a plane again, it will be too soon,” Jon whined. You turned to see him drop his head on Damian’s shoulder.

“Flying commercial is both unpleasant and inefficient, I concur.” Damian squinted at the standstill line forming at the front of the plane. You stayed carefully silent. The two future trips you had in your calendar burned in the back of your mind.

“But hey,” Jon sat up. “At least we met you!”

You chuckled, maneuvering up and out of your seat into the line of departing passengers before swinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“Yeah,” A bittersweet wave of emotion gripped your heart. “It would have sucked so much more without you guys.”

The deplaning of the flight was the worst you’d ever been a part of. Between panic and desire to leave, everyone was sloppy and on a short fuse. You nearly got whacked in the head with a carry-on bag trying to stand up. You did get elbowed trying to move forwards in the line.

There was no Damian and Jon right behind you this time when you turned around after finally making your way into the airport. The spike of disappointment that drove through your chest caught you off guard. I knew this was going to happen, you reminded yourself. It didn’t make the ache in your chest go away.

“Hi,” you greeted the help desk employee. “I’d like to get my bag routed to baggage claim.” The required materials—your boarding pass, baggage tag receipt, and driver’s license—weren’t hard to produce. In just a few minutes, you were given a new receipt and an instruction to check screens for the baggage claim. The guaranteed “voucher” was to be later emailed, added to your airline account. You stepped off to the side, shoving the new receipt in your pocket. They’re tall, you figured. You’d see them if they were still there. Multiple scans of the crowd later, you didn’t see Damian’s waves nor Jon’s signature glasses. The spike of disappointment morphed into a vice around your chest even as you shoved it down. Your phone, now off airplane mode, buzzed in your pocket. You spun on your heel and headed towards baggage claim. The train you needed to take back home wasn’t going to book itself.

Despite your unfamiliarity with the airport, it was simple enough to follow the signs towards the baggage claim area. You stopped at a restroom on your way there to avoid having to maneuver through one with a full suitcase in tow. The screen was empty of flights from your airline when you arrived, and your phone was blank of any email updates. Instead, you rerouted to the Amtrak app. The train with the lowest fare that also gave you enough buffer time to get your bags and catch the local train from the airport to the station was 2 hours away. The number of your bank balance flashed in your mind.

“Thirty-eight for the train and eight to get to the airport,” you muttered aloud. “Yes I am so willing to spend fifty bucks to finally just be home.” The inevitable expense of a taxi or rideshare back to your home poked at the back of your mind. You ignored it. The voucher would cover the difference later on and that would have to be enough.

A notification banner popped up on the top of your phone screen. The text notification was from the airline, declaring baggage claim three. Sure enough, the screen on the wall said the same thing. Baggage claim number three was farther down. You moved quickly, shoving through other passengers to stand in closer to it. Standing nearby was someone you had a murky recollection of from the boarding line.

All that was left now was to wait.

Damian bit back a growl as a large man shoved him back into Jon and forced his way farther up the line.

“That’s not getting him anywhere,” Jon muttered. He was half-hoping his powers would spontaneously come back and help them out. “What’s the point?” Damian shook his head.

“If people made sense, Jon, we’d be out of work.” Jon rolled his eyes.

“You’re hilarious.”

Damian chuckled lowly, pulling his carry-on bag from the overhead storage, then Jon’s.

“Damn it.”

A jolt of panic sliced through Jon. His head snapped towards Damian, eyes wide. Jon winced, massaging the back of his neck. That hurt.

“What?”

“We lost them.” He nodded towards the front of the plane. You were gone.

“Shit.”

As much as he wanted to get off the plane, Jon wouldn’t have pushed through the other passengers even with powers at full strength. Especially with powers at full strength. He followed the movement of the crowd as they exited the gate, coming to a stop just beside a stand selling Philadelphia hoodies and t-shirts. Jon eyed them with a not small amount of disdain. He’d pass.

“So we’re not taking another plane-” Damian began.

“Oh fuck no,” Jon interrupted.

“Why do you think I started with ‘we’re not’?”

“Right,” Jon could feel his cheeks heating. “I knew that.”

“Hnn. So could it be worthwhile to call someone now? It’s past 9:30, your family should be up. Of mine, Alfred at the very least will be awake at this hour.”

“What’s the other option?”

“We take another method of public transport to Gotham and have Alfred pick us up there.”

Jon thought about it for a moment. Then he thought of you. His hearing was past the point of awful fluctuation, but not good enough to hear across a crowded airport. And he didn’t know your heartbeat. It was a weird thought. Jon thought about it again. That was a weird thought too. But it had been a long time since he’d gotten to know someone without being able to hear their heartbeat.

“Do we know what they’re doing? I don’t think we even talked about it. But I don’t want to leave them alone after all this.” He paused. “That’s not weird, right?”

Damian shook his head.

“No, I agree. Which means your family is out. And waiting for Alfred to drive all the way here and then asking them to get into a car with a complete stranger for two hours is also less than ideal.”

“So public transport it is.” Jon concluded. “Wait, how do we even know they aren’t taking another plane?” Damian smirked.

“They don’t call us the world's greatest detectives for nothing.”

Jon narrowed his eyes at Damian. “You guessed.”

“I formed a hunch based on multiple deductions,” Damian retorted, arms crossed.

“So you guessed.”

“Deduction and guesswork are two different things.”

“Uh huh,” Jon smiled and started heading to the help desk. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The help desk employee guaranteed Damian that the vouchers would be emailed and attached to his airline account. Based on the look on his face, Damian couldn’t care less about them. Jon wanted to hurry up and find you too. But he also didn’t want to be booked into the nearest flight to Gotham. Until he got his powers back in full, Jon wasn’t doing any flying whatsoever, much less flying that involved any sort of metal contraptions.

“Which baggage claim is for this flight?” Damian asked before he stepped away. The airline employee checked her screen.

“Three, but I don’t believe bags have started arriving yet.”

Damian nodded and headed quickly towards the signs leading towards the baggage claim area.

“Thanks!” Jon threw out as he followed, sneakers squealing against the linoleum floor as he hurried to catch up.

#damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #jonathan kent #jonathan kent imagine #emerson writes sometimes #one in eleven million

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eriquin · 10 months

Text

Time Travel AU part 3

(part 1)(part 2)(master post)

Part 3

Mom was in the kitchen working on dinner when he came down. It smelled awesome and savory, like some kind stew. He stopped in to see what it was. She had a different apron on from the one she’d worn that morning, and she was stirring something in a pot.

“No roast today,” she said. “I made a big batch of chili so you boys can eat in front of the TV downstairs. I even got Fritos to crumble on top, at Dad’s request.” She pointed at the bag on the counter.

“That sounds amazing,” he said, grabbing the bag. “Should I bring these down?”

“As long as you know that if you finish them before the chili’s ready, there aren’t any more,” she said.

“Is there anything else I can bring down?”

“Maybe some sodas from the fridge and a beer for your dad.” She stopped stirring the pot and turned to look at him. “Are you hungry? You’ve been up in your room all day. Did you eat lunch?”

“Kind of, and yes,” he said. “I got caught up in something but I made a sandwich while you were out.”

She looked around at the counters, which only had evidence of her own cooking. “Is the plate still up in your room?”

“No.” He furrowed his brow. “I ate down here. I washed the plate and put it away.”

Mom looked startled at this. “Really?”

Steve chastised his former self for being so irresponsible and tried to figure out how to keep her from making a big deal about it. “Yes, really. No, I’m not sick. Yes, I really am your son. I just...” He sighed. “Look, I know that if I want you and Dad to be comfortable leaving me home alone, I’ve got to act more responsible around the house.”

She didn’t seem to buy it. “And you just woke up this morning and decided to do that?”

He shrugged. “I mean. I have other reasons, but kind of. Yeah.”

Mom crossed her arms. “Is there a girl involved?”

He winced. This was the time when he started getting serious about Nancy, wasn’t it? That’s what led to his involvement in everything. In fact, if he backed off of flirting with Nancy now, he could probably coast through the rest of things. Barb wouldn’t die in his pool and Nancy wouldn’t go on her grief-fueled monster hunt.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs came up from the basement. “Steve, the game’s starting,” his dad called out. “We’ve got a bet, remember? You don’t want to miss it.”

Mom sighed and tutted at him. “Well, when you make your mind up about this girl, tell me will you?” she said. “I’d love to meet the girl who made you decide to act like an adult.” She went back to stirring the chili.

Steve loaded up his arms with drinks and leaned over to grab the Frito bag with his teeth. Mom rolled her eyes, but didn’t lecture him about it. She didn’t offer to help, either. He struggled a little with getting the basement door open. Dad had gone back down the stairs and was sitting on one of big leather armchairs. He laughed when he saw how full Steve’s arms were, but he also didn’t get up to help.

It took Steve a minute to put all the drinks down without dropping them. He kept the bag of Fritos in his mouth the whole time, turning his head away when Dad tried to reach over and grab it. “Mmmph,” he said, before spitting it out at last. “No way. I carried it, I get first dibs.” He spread out on the loveseat, propping his feet up on the armrest. It was old, and he sank down into it.

The finished basement had been one of his favorite parts of the house. In the future, he used it more for movies with Robin and occasionally Dustin. They always complained about it being too cold and the leather couches being uncomfortable, but Steve liked it.

Mom called them to get dinner a half hour later, partway through the second inning. Dad raced Steve up the stairs like he’d done when he was a kid, with maybe some more forceful shoving now that they were about the same height. They filled their bowls and carried them more carefully down the stairs, wary of getting yelled at for spilling any. Mom came down with her own bowl a few minutes later, saying something about how she missed her boys and didn’t want to eat alone. She wasn’t a big baseball fan, but she sat and let Dad explain what had happened so far.

“So has Steve’s team won it yet?” she asked.

“They’re not my team,” Steve shot back. “I just know they’re going to win.”

“No, they haven’t,” Dad said. “They are one run up, though. It’s anybody’s game.”

“It’s really not,” Steve said around a mouthful of chili. “S’gonna be a shutout.”

“Uh-huh.” Dad looked unconvinced. He shoveled a huge spoonful of chili and Fritos into his mouth before saying, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, kiddo.”

Mom pretended to gag and covered her face while she looked away. “It’s like you regress when there are sports on,” she said. “Okay, I’m done. Enjoy your game. Remember, it’s a school night.”

“Awww, Mom,” Steve said.

“Come on, honey,” Dad added. “He spent all day doing his homework just so he could watch the game with his dear old dad. I think he’ll be fine staying up late just this once.”

Mom rolled her eyes and tutted at them both. “You know, you have work in the morning, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m the boss,” Dad said. “I’m allowed to come in late. Heck, my team will thank me for it.”

Dad relaxed more after Mom left. At the bottom of the fourth inning, he sent Steve upstairs for a couple more beers and handed one back to him when he brought them down. Steve raised his eyebrows and glanced at the stairs. Even given the shenanigans of whatever time travel nonsense was going on, this wasn’t his first beer. It wasn’t even the first one his dad had given him, but they liked to treat it like something contraband. It made the whole thing more fun.

After the Orioles scored what Steve knew was their last run in the fifth inning, he spent the rest of the game feeling nervous that it wasn’t going to happen the way he remembered. Dad let him have a second beer and kept yelling at the Phillies to get a damn hit already. Steve pumped his fist every time they struck out. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but this was proving to him that things would happen just the way they had before. It ended just as he’d predicted, with a shutout. Dad threw his hands up in the air

“Unbelievable,” Dad said as they started picking up all their cans and other trash.

“I know, right?” Steve had gone up to get a garbage bag for everything, while Dad stacked the plates up.

Dad sighed. “I should’ve called my bookie.”

“You have a bookie?”

“Okay, I should’ve found a bookie.” Dad laughed. “How did you know? Seriously, did you have a vision or something?

Steve grinned at him as he let him go first up the stairs. “No vision, no,” he lied. “It just kind of occurred to me this morning and I decided to roll with it. Like, a little voice in my head said ‘wouldn’t it be funny if...’ and then I said it out loud and I couldn’t back down.”

“Well, if that little voice speaks up again, you tell me,” Dad said. He put the dishes in the sink and took the garbage bag from Steve. “I’ll find a way to put real money on it and you’ll be set for college.”

Something must’ve shown on his face at the mention of college. He had a hard time hiding things when he was a little buzzed. Dad stopped him from walking off and asked what was wrong.

“It’s just... What if I end up not getting into college?” he asked. “Like, what if something happened and it didn’t work out?”

Dad spun the garbage bag to close it and tie it off. “What do you think’s going to happen?” he asked. “That little voice speaking up again already?”

Steve rubbed his eyes. “No, nothing like that,” he said. “I just think about it, sometimes. I don’t even know what I’d study in college, you know? My grades aren’t great and I play basketball okay but so does everyone else I know. It’s not like I’m six foot three and beating the recruiters off with a bat.” He sighed heavily.

“Okay, this is a deeper conversation than I’m prepared to have after a six pack and a lost bet,” Dad said. He ruffled Steve’s hair. “Let’s talk about it in the morning, all right? Your mom was right. It’s a school night.”

Steve nodded and said good night, heading up the stairs as his dad took care of the garbage. He changed into familiar pajamas, and looked out the window at the pool. It wasn’t haunted yet, but it still bothered him. If this was all a weird dream, he was probably going to wake up back at the Henderson’s. If it wasn’t, then he’d have to go back to high school tomorrow. He didn’t know if he’d be able to change anything, but if there was a chance, he wanted to take it.

#time travel #stranger things #steddie #my writing #steve's parents #i don't pretend to know a lot about baseball #i used to like the orioles though

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bitchsister · 12 days

Note

(Lucky charms AU ) what are Gale and John’s convos like when they talk about Curt? could be before or after Gale became their little plate licker . Or both!! Is Gale shy about it ? Does John try to rile Gale up with stories ?

Oooooh FUUUUN.

These days they FOR SURE gossip about how pretty Curt looked last night, but let’s go back to the beginning.

Bucky sat beside Gale at the bar of their favorite lunch spot, knees nudging beneath the counter as they sat silently, thumbing through case files they’d been staring at all day and catching up on the text messages they’d been unable to open since seven that morning.

“Jesus.” Bucky scrambled but Gale had already seen it. Curt had sent John a picture of himself with what looked like a joint between his lips and his cock stiff between his legs, blue eyes staring into the lens like they could eat a soul. “Fuck - sorry.”

Gale shrugged, shoving a fry smothered in ranch into his cheek as he blinked at Bucky, the image burned behind his eyelids.

“He’s like.. I dunno. In fucking heat or something.” Bucky grabbed the whiskey he’d ordered only a moment ago and took a gulp, shivers dancing over his spine. “It’s constant. And I’m not complaining, I swear — it’s fucking great, I’m just — you gotta wonder how the boy keeps goin’, you know?”

Gale silently nodded, willing to stay quiet if it meant Bucky would go on to fill the silence.

“He’s got all this energy I didn’t have as a college student. I felt like I’d been beat into the ground when we were in school.” Bucky recalled the nights he curled up in Gales room and cried.

Gale cried, too.

They missed their parents, and the safety of being in high school. They cried about their student loans, and how they could do nothing on Saturdays besides whine and rub their pennies together.

“He’s like that bunny with the drum. What’s he called again?” Bucky’s brain had turned to mush, though all he wanted to do then was catch a speeding ticket to NYU’s campus to then force Curt to spend a school night back at his house instead.

“I know what you mean.” Gale nodded

“What’s he called, though?”

“What’s it matter, Johnny?”

“It’s gonna bother me all day if I don’t figure it out.” Bucky waved a hand at Gale who had much more interesting things to think about — like how Curt tasted, or how he sounded when he came.

Was he a whiner? Did he pant? Or did he like to squeal?

“Can I see?” Gale asked abruptly, though he almost immediately wished he could stuff every word he’d just uttered back down his throat. “I — I mean -“ he became flustered, but realized it was only because he was stating a want. “If that’s okay.”

It was hardly something Gale allowed himself to do.

And being a therapist meant he also had to check his own behavior. Sure, his request may have been inappropriate, but he and Bucky shared a friendship — just like any other relationship, Gale needed to express his needs and wants clearly and precisely if he wanted to get anywhere with them.

Bucky didn’t need to agree to them, or like them.

But, just as Gale had predicted, Bucky’s expression had turned sinister, almost like a taunting court jester. “Oh, you wanna see?”

“Yes.” Gale stated firmly, his posture straightening when he rolled his shoulders back. “If you don’t think it’d be a complete and total invasion, that is.” Gale knew there must be a boundary, and he’d never want to upset Curt by ogling at his naked body without some form of consent, even if it came from Bucky who sighed heavily and laid his phone between them, their heads practically pressed together once their faces grew closer to the screen.

“Well, read these first.” He scrolled through a never ending thread of messages, spanning out for months and months as he picked the ones with Gales name in them. “And ask again if it’d be an invasion.”

A picture of Curt’s legs spread, fingers slicked with spit teasing his hole.

Just finished class. Thinkin of ya big boy. Show Gale 🖤🖤

A video from a creative angle, Gale would have to admit, of Curt rutting his hips against a pillow while he shoved his fingers down his throat like it was a cock.

Tell Gale you need to come get me soon. After u show him this ;) I miss youuu hurry uppppp

Then, a message from three days ago that came in right after Gale had shared a sip of his latte with Bucky, telling him all about the new cafe down the street with the best matcha he’d ever tasted while Curt laid in his usual spot the window on the far side of the study and practically preened himself, smoking a joint and typing away on his phone.

Do you think he’ll taste my cum now?

Do you think he can tell u milked me down ur slutty throat before he walked thru the door?

Can I tell him???

Gales breath hitched in his throat, his gaze growing more intent on the screen in front of him that drew the two of them in, just like moths to a flame. “God.” He whispered, feeling every emotion under the sun. “He’s fucking unreal.”

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ I LOVE HIM SO MUCH ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

#💌#yoyo writes #Curtbuckygale #masters of the air

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sortofanobsession · 1 year

Text

Hospital food lacks Love (911-Missing Scenes from 6x11 In Another Life)

Author's note: one of two fics that I wanted to write after last night's episode. Bobby expresses love through food often. And hospital food is meh at best. So this is what I feel would have happened. Also posting on mobile so no reason more. Sorry about that.

And it's canon now that Bobby is Buck's dad. They didn't just hint, they said it.

Buck has two sets of parents and that is awesome.

SPOILERS!

Enjoy!

Everyone had gone home. He had even somehow convinced Maddie, Bobby and Eddie he'd be fine for a few hours. The staff had brought him a tray with dinner on it and told him to eat slowly because it was one of the first meal since he had been intubated. And he assured them he would. He tries to eat it. He really did. The main issue was that this is not what he wanted to eat. It was a painful reminder that he was stuck in the hospital, eating hospital food. The blandest and boring safe food that is hospital food. He ate a bit but ultimately it wasn't appetizing at all. So he pushed it away and grabbed his phone. He debated on who to text. Maddie would probably tell him the food he was supposed to eat was that way because he had a tube shoved down his throat. They probably didn't want to overwhelm his system. Eddie might say the same thing or he might offer to sneak him in a burger or something. But the one person he knew would always make sure he had enough to eat was Bobby. Bobby always made sure Buck was okay. Even his unconscious mind knew Bobby was there for him. Cared for him. He would always appreciate Bobby being there for him. He loves Bobby like he did his own dad. Maybe even more at times. Bobby was the father figure that had been there when he needed him. His unconscious mind even brought him back from the dead when he needed him. So he sent Bobby a text.

Buck: hospital food 🤢

Bobby: that bad tonight?

Buck: im just going to eat the jello

Bobby: you really should eat something, Buck

Buck: its so boring and terrible

Bobby: did you at least try?

Buck: yes dad

Buck meant for it to come off as a sarcastic joke. Bobby didn't need to know that it felt more accurate to him. And knowing that Athena was the only voice that really broke through to him during his dream made him feel cared for. Loved. It really did feel like he had two sets of parents. Phillip and Margaret Buckley, the ones that initially brought him into this world and we're trying to reconnect with him. He could appreciate that. And the ones that helped bring him back into the world this time, the ones that love him by choice, not because of obligation, Bobby and Athena.

Bobby couldn't help but smile as he read Buck's text. Any hesitation that he might have had to sneak Buck something to eat vanished. Buck had a grip on his heart and he had for a long time. Since Bobby helped him get ready for that awful date all those years ago. Buck sat nestled in his heart alongside the kids he lost and the kids he gained when he married Athena. May was right.

Bobby: you want me to sneak you in something don’t you

Buck: Id say I’d die for it but too soon

Buck: right?

Bobby: Right

Buck: Yes sir *saluting emoji*

Bobby: I’ll make & bring you breakfast tomorrow

Buck: this is why you are the best

"What are you smiling about?" Athena asks as she joins him. Bobby just hands her his phone.

"Of course," Athena grins. "He got you with that dad text didn't you?"

"Even May says it's true," Bobby says.

"Because it is. He may have his real parents in his life, and they seem to be trying, but he knows he will always have you. And that means something."

"It does," Bobby smiles. "I'm so glad he's okay. I will make him whatever he wants if it means he'll stay that way."

"I know you will. He knows it too."

The next morning Bobby makes breakfast for his family. Omelets. Fluffy omelets that are packed full of tiny pieces of whatever any of them wanted. And he packs up one that he knew Buck would like. He packs it as best he can to keep it warm. Packed along with some other stuff he was bringing to help keep Buck from going crazy during his recovery. Some of it May and Harry insisted he would need. He headed to the hospital.

He knocked on the door before entering Buck's hospital room. The smile on Buck's face made Bobby smile.

"Morning," Buck greeted him.

"Morning, Harry and May said to tell you to feel better soon. Like soon, soon," Bobby shakes his head. "They also sent stuff to keep you sane. So here." He sets the bag of stuff on the bed. "Also breakfast is in there so there's that."

"Yes!" Buck grins. And pulls the tray table closer so he can pull everything out. He eagerly opens the container and finds the utensils. "Thanks, Bobby." He hums when he takes a bite. "I feel like I haven't had anything with flavor in ages."

"It's been less than a week, Buck," Bobby chuckles.

"And it feels way longer," Buck complains.

"You're just bored," Bobby says.

"You aren't wrong," Buck notes.

"Well I don't have a shift until tomorrow, so finish your breakfast and we can find something to do."

"Thanks Bobby, you really are the best," Buck smiles.

"Anytime, kid. Anytime."

#evan buckley #bobby nash #athena grant nash #Athena Grant #911 spoilers #non story post #bobby is buck's dad #fire dad #captain dad Bobby #spoilers #missing scenes

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kaunis-sielu · 1 year

Text

Frozen: State Hockey

“Hey Mom, do we have another ticket for State?” You ask as you pack your suitcase to head home. High school state hockey tournament has been a family tradition for over 30 years at this point and you’re really hoping to bring Thor. You’d love for him to meet your family, or most of it, and for them to meet him.

“Yea, for all three days why?“

“I’d like to bring my boyfriend.” You tell her and you’re met with silence on the other end.

“Your, you’re dating someone?” She asks sounding surprised, which is fair because you haven’t really talked about Thor to your family. They could be a bit, much, sometimes.

“Yea, we’ve kept it pretty quiet but I’d like to bring him if that’s okay.”

“We’d love that. Can he get a plane ticket that quickly?”

“He should be able to.” You won’t tell her that you’d already bought tickets for both of you and that if there hadn’t been a ticket for him you’d have figured it out when you got there.

Thor picks you up the next morning far too early but you’d wanted to take the early flight and get home so you didn’t have to rush directly to the games.

It’s an uneventful flight, you’d been a little irritated that Thor had secretly upgraded your tickets to first class but you can’t deny that it’s more comfortable, especially for him and his long ass legs. You’d played a couple rounds of cribbage then curled up next to him to sleep.

When you’d landed you’d texted your older sister to let her know you’d be out soon, Diana and her husband Bruce were letting you and Thor stay with them so you didn’t have to stay at your parents. She meets you at the pick up with a big hug and then she sees who your boyfriend is.

“Holy shit.” She whispers, “you’re dating Thor Odinson?”

“Yes. Be cool.” You hiss back and she laughs,

“I’m always cool.” She says with smile then she reaches a hand out for Thor. “Hi I’m Diana, Moxie’s much more fun older sister.” You roll your eyes and Thor chuckles.

“It’s a pleasure. I’m Thor Odinson.”

“Alright let’s go before someone gets pissed we’re taking too long.” You say popping open the trunk and shoving your smaller bag inside. Thor grabs your suitcase before you have a chance to and puts it in the trunk before doing his too.

The ride to Diana and Bruce’s is comfortable, Thor had insisted on sitting in the back so you could chat with Diana but you make sure he’s involved in the conversation.

Bruce isn’t fazed by Thor at all. But being a billionaire since birth has granted him the opportunity to know other professional athletes and celebrities. You hang out, have dinner then head for bed.

“So,” Thor says as you get ready for bed, “were you going to tell me your brother in law is Bruce Wayne?”

“Nah, I also didn’t tell my family that my boyfriend is Thor Odinson.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re more than just your famous name.” You tell him with a shrug and he curls a hand around the back of your head pulling your lips to his.

“That,” he mutters, “may be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You laugh softly then click off the light and snuggle in next to him.

You leave right away in the morning for family breakfast. It’s always at the hotel that’s across the street from the arena. Your mom’s brain seems to freeze when she sees and recognizes Thor. But your family, luckily, doesn’t make a huge deal about him.

“This is strange.” Thor says as you walk into the arena through the front doors, “I’ve never come in this way.”

“No player entrance for you.” You tell him with a smile. He’s holding your hand, one of the first times you’ve done so in a public place like this. A couple of younger fans recognize who he is and if they approach quietly Thor gives them an autograph or a photo but if they’re obnoxious about it he declines.

Your family has a box now, Bruce had thrown some money at the tournament a few years back and you’re grateful for it because it allows Thor to relax a bit and really enjoy the games. Your family always picks teams to cheer for, you like to do the underdogs while Diana does the team with the stats on them. Thor picks based off of the first half of the first period which proves to be an effective strategy.

On the last night, with the third place and championship game you decide to go to the Golden Puck, a sit down restaurant in the arena, with Thor to eat. You go to the bathroom and on your way back you’re stopped,

“Well, well, wondered if I’d see you here.”

“Excuse me, you’re in my way.” You say to Carl you don’t want to deal with him.

“Yea? Well I’m talking to you.”

“Give it a rest Carl. I’m not interested in dealing with your bullshit.” You tell him looking past him and making eye contact with Thor whose eyes darken as he stands up. “You should probably move, Thor looks pissed.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You owe me-,”

“She doesn’t owe you shit.” Thor’s voice is low and tight, “now, move out of her way before you cause a scene.” Thor says stepping into Carl’s way and ushering you past the two of them.

“Oh, so I see how it is.” Carl sneers, “you’re a little Puck slut.” You grab Thor’s hand you don’t want him to get into trouble with Carl.

“Let’s go. Let’s go.” You murmur and thankfully Thor doesn’t fight you. Instead, he curls an arm around your shoulders and leads you down a hallway.

“You okay?” He asks you quietly and you nod.

“I hate him so much.” You bury your face in his chest and Thor wraps his arms around you. “We were having such a good weekend.”

“I still am. I’m not going to let that ass ruin the good time. Please don’t let him ruin yours either.” You take a deep breath and nod then step away from him,

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For having my back, sticking up for me and knowing what to say to get me out of my head.”

“Moxie that’s what a good partner does. That’s just in the description.” He tells you kissing you softly.

“How are you even real.” You whisper and he laughs.

“I made mistakes in my marriage to Sif. I’ve learned from them and they’ve made me a better man.” You rest your head against his chest and sigh softly.

“Oh my god. We didn’t pay!” You cry pulling away from Thor suddenly and he laughs softly.

“I left more than enough on the table Kattunge.” You blink at him then and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head as he slips his fingers between yours.

“Thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.��

“I meant for dinner.”

“I meant you have nothing to thank me for.” He repeats with a smile pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

You head back to the box where Diana is scowling and Bruce looks annoyed and has an ice pack on his hand.

“What happened?”

“Carl came by. Wouldn’t leave so Bruce punched him in the face and security escorted him out.”

“Wish I’d punched him in the face.” Thor grumbles, “Moxie wouldn’t let me.”

“He’s going to sue Bruce so I’m glad you didn’t.” You tell Thor and Bruce grins at you.

“He can’t sue me. Diana goaded him, he pushed me. It was self defense. I have cameras.” He says smirking over at you.

“Oh my god.”

“How long has he been harassing you?” Diana asks and when you give a noncommittal shrug Thor answers for you,

“Every time he sees her since the start of the season.”

“That needs to stop.”

“He hasn’t threatened me, he’s just an asshole. Can we stop talking about this? I want to enjoy the championship game.” Diana opens her mouth to argue but when she sees the look on your face she closes it and sighs.

You don’t talk about Carl again. Thank god. Thor ends up winning the family pool, much to both Bruce and Diana’s disappointment but you’re thrilled. Bruce has won the last two years and you’re so glad that he can’t brag for another year.

“I expect to see the trophy at Thor’s in less than a week.” You tell Bruce as you walk out of the arena.

“Trophy?” Thor asks and you grin up at him.

“Trophy.”

“Fine. Leave your address and I’ll send it.” Bruce grumbles and you laugh softly. When you get back to the house you go to bed, Thor wraps his arm around your waist and slides you flush against him.

“Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time.”

“I’m glad. I’m happy you could come.” You whisper back. Thor presses a soft kiss to your nose and you laugh. “I think you missed.”

“A rarity.” He teases and you hum softly, “let’s see if I can do better this time.” He says before pressing a kiss to your lips.

Much better.

🏒🏒🏒

This is a series of one shots. If you have any suggestions or ideas for Thor and Moxie please let me know.

Tag list:

@foxyjwls007 @andahugaroundtheneck @also-fangirlinsweden @pagina16ps @princesssterek @valsworldofcreativity @dumblani @inkedaztec @loving-life-my-way @animegirlgeeky @shinycupcakebaker @eralen @sophham @gh0stgurl @wonderlandfandomkingdom @killcomet @abschaffer2 @sass-masterkittenmama

#thor au #thor x reader #hockey player au #hockey player!thor #hockey player!thor x reader #hockey player Thor odinson #avengers #sidelines universe

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insertsickusername13 · 1 year

Note

as a prompt: a richjake roadtrip after senior year

this took me so long.who knew road trips were so hard to write? wtf. like it's such a classic it should've been easy, but i started this weeks ago and only managed to finish it now bc i just refused to close the tab until i finished. and on that note i've been writing for the past hour and my brain has lost all ability to process the english language so i didn't edit it. if there's grammar mistakes or certain sentences are total nonsense then i'm very very sorry

uh, warnings? mentions of sex. mentions of drugs and alcohol.

word count: 5,437 (yes, it's longer than I wanted. its a roadtrip. how am i supposed to write that in a thousand words?)

On the second day, Rich told Jake he liked him. They were up in Maine, planning on getting all of New England before heading west. Jake had the passenger seat pushed back as far as it could go, eyes closed and legs almost straightened. It was early—7? Maybe 8?

When Jake had insisted they go on a road trip together, Rich had imagined late mornings in hotel rooms and late nights in clubs. (He also imagined Jake realizing just how terrible this would be for his legs within the first three hours, but it was hour eight and he still seemed determined.) Instead, he got a rigid schedule and a pre-made playlist. No bars or underground concerts—just Mount Rushmore and Chicago and art museums. Aquariums where there were ones, beaches when they could.

They’d only been through Massachusetts and Connecticut by the time Rich gave in. They were alone for the first time in ages—and not in their house, not with the promise of going to school and seeing their friends the next day. They were practically in the middle-of-no-where-New-Hampshire and Rich could pull over, stand on the roof of the car, and scream, “I love Jake Dillinger!!” and the only person who would hear would be the object of his affections. The urge to confess flurried within and around the car like an unshakable snowstorm.

He didn’t mean to say it. In all honesty, it was a misinterpreted phrase, a result of Rich’s excessive talking as Jake hummed from the passenger seat, half-asleep.

“But Interstellar just had more,” he said, only half paying attention to the empty highway, “Like yeah, okay, Tenet was weird as fuck and probably had a cooler concept if I was smart enough to figure it the fuck out, but the main character’s name was fucking protagonist. Who becomes emotionally attached to a dude named protagonist? It lacked the depth Interstellar had. Plus, Interstellar felt attainable. Like fuck yeah, I wanna go to space.”

“Mhm.”

“I’d take you with me. Maybe Michael, but I’m not sure how ventilation works on a spacecraft and his weed might stink up the whole thing.”

“Probably.”

“You’d be a menace, you can barely handle gas station food, let alone space food. You’d have a heart attack at not being able to have your weekly caviar.”

“You’d just throw me out in space,” Jake mumbled, not even bothering to deny the caviar jab.

“Nah, I like you too much,” Rich teased, poking at Jake’s exposed stomach. He expected a squawk, at least for Jake to shove him away, but there was only silence. Rich took his eyes off the road for just a split second, interest piqued, only to be met with Jake’s wide, terrified expression.

He’d said it a million times before and never overthought it, but maybe there was something different about this time. Maybe it was because they were alone rather than surrounded by friends, maybe it was because now they’d planned a life together—college, in Boston, Jake at Harvard and Rich at Emerson, still roommates. Maybe it was accursed Maine and all its forests, or the way Rich emphasized like. Love was a common word between them, said every sleepless night since the fire, but like meant so much more. Like implied a hesitance only present where romance was seeping into every word.

“No, you don’t," Jake seethed.

Rich scoffed. A restless apprehension crept its way up his spine and settled in his fingertips, which tapped against the steering wheel.

“Pretty sure I do, buddy. You’re—”

“I’m your best friend and you don’t like me.”

Oh. Oh fuck. Jake meant like that. He knew, he—fuck. Rich had to consciously stop himself from accidentally sending the car tumbling into the forest.

“Okay,” Rich forced out, “Okay. I don’t like you.”

Jake’s sigh of relief was similar to a comet colliding with Rich’s home. He squeezed the steering wheel and kept his mouth clamped shut, terrified that one wrong move would send them spiraling off the edge of the Earth.

As it turned out, though, Jake didn’t mind Rich’s confession. He didn’t directly acknowledge It afterward, glad to pretend he was still blissfully unaware of every icy undercurrent running under their feet.

Rich thought an explicit rejection would hurt. He’d imagined how it would go a million times over, a passive version of self-destruction. He lay awake next to Jake’s sleeping body and thought of every word he’d say, how he’d say it, the way he’d look away with guilt. Rich had all his responses planned, all his apologies already written. He was prepared for an, ‘I’m so sorry, I just don’t think of you that way—’

He was not prepared for Jake’s arm slung over his shoulder, lips close to his ear, and that quiet, breathy laugh Jake only let slip out around Rich.

They were in some local museum meant to educate passing tourists about some half-abandoned small town Stephen King would write about. It was reasonably entertaining, mostly a distraction from the storm of heartbreak he was trying to disassemble in his chest. Just one night—he needed one night alone in a hotel room to sob out every sorrow, then he’d bounce back. Just one night.

If only Jake would stop trying to kill him. Rich was satisfied reading about boats or whales or something (he’d forgotten, too busy thinking about Jake’s fingers clutching Rich’s t-shirt to keep his balance) with Jake a good two feet away, examining a painting. But Rich’s beautiful demolitionist decided his next target was Rich. He appeared to the right of him and practically draped himself over him, impossibly energetic for being in a place that reeked of desolation and dust.

“Fuckin’ Maine and their lobsters,” Jake grumbled into Rich’s ear, resting his chin in the crook of his shoulder.

Every possible witty response died before Rich even had the chance to think them up. His brain was too muddled with Jake and Jake knowing and Jake being so close. Where there would usually be a confession on the tip of Rich’s tongue, unspoken but overwhelming, there was only the bitter aftertaste of hope.

“Yeah,” Rich stated, simple and short. Jake’s cane knocked against Rich’s knee. It wasn’t even on the ground anymore, having been replaced by Rich.

Jake made a small sound of confusion before nuzzling a bit closer and said, “Do we wanna drive to Vermont for lunch? Or are we staying here?”

“It’s like a four-hour drive.”

“So we’re staying here?”

“If you want.”

Jake shifted away slightly, just far enough that Rich began reteaching himself how to breathe.

“You’re all red,” Jake stated, soft and oblivious.

Okay, so no breathing. Rich writhed in Jake’s hold until he was free and standing three feet away, face even redder than before, an instinctive reaction to Jake’s intense, unwavering gaze. Picking through the flood of panic in his mind, Rich only barely managed to get out, “Sorry.”

“Why would you be s—oh. No, that’s—I didn’t mean to—like, we’re—”

Rich was going to cry. In front of the boy he was in love with, he was going to cry. Jake sounded so panicked and apologetic that Rich could almost feel it gathering like snowflakes in his hair, coating the floor in pure white dust.

“Jake, stop. It’s fine.”

“Are you su—”

“Let’s just go to lunch. I saw a diner on the way here.”

Jake nodded rapidly, almost desperately, as he stormed from the room—almost as if he could escape Rich’s feelings merely by leaving this goddamn museum behind.

He almost succeeded. It took an awkward lunch and two hours of driving on an empty highway, but eventually, Rich’s one-word answers slipped back into enthusiastic ramblings and Jake learned not to flinch away whenever Rich’s hand got too close.

Rich still cried when they got to the hotel. It was his turn to pay and, despite repeatedly telling Jake that he was going to save as much money as possible, he bought two separate rooms for them. Jake didn’t so much as blink. Still, the next night they were in a shared room with separate beds, far enough that if Rich reached out he’d be met with only empty air, but close enough he could still hear Jake’s breathing.

It wasn’t until Illinois that Rich was once again faced with the consequences of his stupid, unintentional confession. Once again in different hotel rooms, Jake had to knock on Rich’s door at 2 am to get his attention.

Rich was half asleep, his phone in his hand still open to Michael’s text messages. At first, he was convinced Jake was a figment of the SQUIP—the knocks would get louder until Rich was on the floor, rocking back and forth with his hands over his ears waiting for the noises to stop.

But then he heard, “Richie?” and his panic evaporated as if it was never there.

“What the fuck?” he said, answering the door with a fabricated scowl. At Jake’s nighttime smile, it melted into reluctant contentment.

Jake held up a towel and a pair of swim trunks. “Hot tub? I saw they had one.”

“Well, it’s most definitely closed by now.”

Jake ducked his head with a bashful grin on his face and shrugged. Rich knew by now that Jake only followed the rules when adults were there to praise him for his obedience, and Jake knew Rich knew, but he always acted like a scolded child when he suggested something even vaguely rebellious.

“Could be fun,” he whispered, blushing at the floor.

“Oh my god, gimme those and stop acting like a five-year-old.”

Jake positively beamed, sunshine incarnated. Rich almost had a heart attack as he ripped the swim trunks from Jake’s grasp as quickly as he could, doing everything in his power to avoid brushing Jake’s hands against his own as he slammed the door shut to get changed.

By the time they got to the hot tub, Rich was sure he was going to die. He didn’t know he had a thing for boys picking locks, but seeing Jake on his knees in front of the glass door, his credit card in the slit between the door and the wall had done something to Rich.

And Jake, skin red from the hot water, eyes glazed over from the third beer he’d had (that someone Rich hadn’t noticed was in his hand)? Yeah. That was something else entirely. He was frozen despite the heat, paralyzed by Jake’s hands on his hips, tracing stars with his thumb.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Jake whispered, voice almost lost in the foggy steam filling the room. He wasn’t making eye contact, instead staring at the point of contact between them like he could see the pearly gates of heaven reflected in the water.

“Yep,” Rich squeaked. He didn’t want to say no, he would do anything to be able to enjoy it for what it was, but… but fuck. This was survival for him. He couldn’t wake up tomorrow in Jake’s hotel room and continue as if nothing had happened—it wasn’t a wouldn’t. There was no choice in this. Rich could not have sex with Jake and be forced to be friends with him afterward. He couldn’t have his feelings manipulated and abused, no matter how much he loved Jake.

Oblivious to Rich’s internal musings, Jake leaned down until he was so close Rich was almost convinced they were kissing.

“You want this?” he said. Just those three words, not the ones Rich was aching, breaking, longing to hear, were enough for their lips to brush together. Less than a second, barely a moment, and Rich thought he felt the moon shatter.

Rich would’ve responded if he could get air in his lungs, but Jake was so close he inhaled all the oxygen that would’ve been Rich’s. All he could do in the haze, the fire, the fear, was shake his head ‘no.’ Not when Jake was drunk. Not when he was looking at Rich like he used to look at Chloe.

Jake jerked back an inch, then two, brows furrowed with confusion.

“I thought—”

“I don’t like you, remember?”

Jake blinked. Rich could tell he was being too slow, his intelligence impacted by the alcohol. It shouldn't take this long for him to figure out what Rich was trying to say—usually, he’d be able to predict Rich’s next words before he even thought them up.

This time, though, Jake just whispered, so small his words could fit in the space between every molecule of air between them, “What?”

“I don’t like you. You told me I don’t like you.”

Another second passed, stretched far beyond what should have been physically possible. Only then did Jake’s eyes flash with recognition.

“Right,” he said, then smiled, “Right, but that was just—I was freaked out, but I’ve thought about it, so much Rich, it’s all I can fucking think about, and you’re—”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m buzzed at best, Rich, listen to me—” he got closer again, eyes alight, and for a split second, the same amount of time it took for someone to realize they were about to die, Rich felt a flicker of hope. Innocent, buttercup hope. Jake in his arms. Waking up to Jake’s face pressed into his hair. Jake kissing him lovingly.

Rich’s face contorted to hide the blissful fantasy from Jake’s prying eyes.

Jake jerked back again, this time so far that he fell back into the water (gracefully, because everything Jake did was graceful), expression a crater of ash and fire.

“Do you… I don’t…”

“You’re hurting me, Jake.”

Jake scrambled farther away, fumbling through the water to the edge of the hot tub as if it was made of glass shards. His mouth was open, words spilling out in a desperate, violent waterfall.

“No, no, you’re not listening to me, Rich, I want you—”

“Yeah, when you’ve got me half naked.”

“What?! No, stop, I’m telling you I want you, all of you, not sex, or—”

“Jacob I can see your boner from here. Don’t try this. It hurts. You can’t—”

“I’m not trying to!”

Jake’s voice was getting loud, his face redder than before. His wet hair went from sexy to frazzled and threatening. His hands were pulling at the roots, tangling in the knots. Rich recognized the mosaic his fear created and could almost see Jake tumbling off cliffs of insanity and desperation. He knew Jake through the months he spent alone in that empty mansion after his parents left, either drunk on expensive liquor or high on the pills his mother left behind, he knew just how dangerous a desperate Jake could be. Not violent, but so goddamn broken it was impossible not to cut himself on the pieces as he gathered him up and reconstructed him back into a man.

“Then stop it!” Rich screamed, “You don’t fucking know, Jake. You’re fucking—the only relationships you’ve been in have been about sex and, and popularity, and you don’t understand this feeling.”

It was as easy as that. Rich knew he’d twisted the knife, knew that maybe he’d taken it a step too far, but he didn’t deserve this. After years of pining, Jake didn’t get to reject him and then try to bed him. That wasn’t allowed.

When Jake spoke again, it was emotionless. Monotonous. Devoid of all humanity. Words on a page, scripted and controlled. Rich had lost all access to Jake.

“What happened with Chloe doesn’t define me. You know that, I know you know that, so don’t even fucking try me. I don’t know what it’s like to hide and lie about my feelings for years, but you don’t know what it’s like to watch the only person you’ve ever loved—”

“Don’t say that.”

“To watch the only person you’ve ever loved,” Jake repeated, more determined this time, “flinch away whenever you so much as look his way because he’s so insecure he can’t accept that maybe you want to spend the rest of your life with him.”

Rich’s fists clenched. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up out of the hot tub, but he was standing by the door, dripping and scowling and on the verge of tears.

“Fuck you.”

“Really? That’s it? Tell me what you want. Tell me you want me and it’s that simple. Tell me you know I want you.”

“You’re my best friend.”

Jake flinched at his own words thrown back at him. He kept his mouth clamped shut as Rich kept talking.

“You’re my best friend and I don’t know what the fuck is up with you tonight, but you told me yourself that we’re friends. I’m not going to let you ruin that with sex.”

“That’s not what—”

“I’m not going to let some half-hearted relationship ruin us, Jacob"

Jake stayed silent, seemingly waiting for more. Rich watched him realize there was nothing left to say, that this was the end of the conversation. His lips were trembling. Rich wished they weren’t.

“Fine,” Jake breathed. He sagged to the floor, knees pressed against the tile, hands clasped politely in front of him. “Fine. Friends. Best friends. If—if you really think being together would ruin us, then we’re just friends.”

“Good,” Rich said as if he couldn’t feel each cell within him bursting and bubbling with acidic heartbreak. “Friends.”

They stayed there for a moment, waiting for some finale to hit—some final blow to tattoo this night in black on their skin—but there was only burning silence.

“I’m going to bed,” Rich said finally.

Jake only nodded, still staring at the floor. Rich slipped from the room and screamed out sobs into his pillow until the sun forced light back into his life.

He stumbled through his morning routine, struggling to close his suitcase and stuff it into the trunk of their car. It wasn’t until he saw Jake, his smile bright but eyes tired, sitting alone in the dining room that the haze lifted just enough for him to realize friends ate breakfast together.

He sat down across from Jake without a word, and only once Jake looked up from his half-eaten breakfast did Rich force the skeleton of a smile onto his face. Jake mimicked it with much more success.

“Top of the morning to ya, buddy,” he said, the word buddy spat out like it hurt, “So, I was thinking, St. Louis is like an hour and a half away, maybe we stop there around noon, see the arch thingy, the move on. There’s a zoo like thirty minutes from there that we can stop at for a while. We can end the night in Wisconsin, see I don’t know, some small town, then tomorrow we can go to Minnesota?”

Rich nodded. He wasn’t sure if he could speak yet.

“Great! I’ve still gotta pack up, so just let me do that, then we can hit the road.”

Rich nodded again. Jake’s gaze lingered too long, flitting across his face, from his bloodshot eyes to his lips, before he finally looked away, his smile faltering. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll see ya in a bit, then.”

“Yeah! Can’t wait.”

Rich wished he could think of more to say, but the day seemed to be coated in an unbreakable silence. The car ride was awkward—Jake kept the radio off, choosing instead to prompt Rich with question after question as if they were kids meeting for the first time. Rich offered up every answer he had. He didn’t have many.

They stopped for ice cream sometime in the late afternoon, after a tense trip to the St. Louis arch during which Jake elbowed Rich after making a joke and Rich almost hyperventilated.

“What should I get?” Jake asked, surveying the menu.

“Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

Rich whipped around to face him, every muscle in his body clenched and ready to fight.

“What?”

“Raspberry looks good.”

Rich didn’t push it., but the words echoed in his ribs until his lungs were bruised.

It happened again a week later. An art museum in Washington.

“It’s beautiful,” Rich said, staring in wonder at a painting of the ocean during a storm.

“So are you.”

Rich didn’t turn to look at him. He scrutinized the painting, looking at every color and brushstroke until three minutes later, Jake had to go to the bathroom.

In California: An aquarium gift shop.

“Do you like it?” Jake asked, watching Rich hold a penguin stuffed animal against his chest.

“I love it,” Rich said, his voice muffled by the fabric. He was hiding his face behind the wings so Jake wouldn’t see his eyes watering at the fact the cashier had called Jake such a good boyfriend for buying him the penguin.

“I love y—”

He had the decency to cut himself off.

“I’m glad you like it,” he amended, and it was left at that.

Until Texas. A hotel twenty minutes from the Space Center Houston only had one room. Of course.

It had two beds. Rich sat upright in one, phone in hand, Michael on the other end. Michael didn’t know what had happened between Rich and Jake, but he did know Jake was on the other side of the room, headphones on as he stared at his computer doing one thing or another. Rich watched him, still helplessly in love despite the repeated heartbreak he experienced every time they did so much as make eye contact.

“Las Vegas was so overhyped,” Rich complained, “Probably because Jake and I can’t legally gamble, but the hotel was so fucking cool. There was this giant fountain and so many lights. Almost had a panic attack because of the noise, but once I got over that it was sick.”

“Las Vegas or San Fransisco?”

“San Fransisco 100% buddy, not even a question. Food was great. I was a little scared we were gonna get devoured by a wildfire, but we ended up fine. East Coast is so much better, though. I can’t wait to get back. Jake said we can stop in the Everglades.”

“You want to got to the Everglades?!”

“Yes!! Snakes, Michael! I need to see a Burmese python and alligator fight to the death!”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m well aware, but this is a childhood dream of mine that must be fulfilled before death takes me.”

Michael laughed. Jake made a strangled sound from across the room.

Rich froze up and instinctively forced an awkward smile on his face, tense and unsure of what exactly had prompted Jake’s reaction. He glanced at his pretty sunflower out of the corner of his eye—his hunched shoulders, a posture that was so unlike him, his face illuminated by the computer screen. Rich cleared his throat to rip himself from admiring him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m hilarious,” he choked out, “Okay, it’s—it’s late, I better get going now.”

“It’s like 9—”

“Night!”

Rich hung up but stayed staring at his phone for far too long, terrified to do anything but.

“Are you okay?” Jake whispered. His computer was closed now and he was facing Rich, crisscrossed on his bed. Rich straightened and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, just tired. Sorry.”

“Have you been tired for the last three weeks?“

Rich blinked at him, too focused on the blue of his eyes to comprehend his words.

“What?” he finally said. Jake just shook his head and turned off the lamp, deciding darkness was the best course of action.

Rich thought it would be him who’d be unable to sleep, haunted by blues and I love yous, but it was Jake who tossed and turned and writhed in his sheets, wrestling with some invisible enemy long after Rich fell asleep.

When Rich awoke the next morning, it was to Jake packing his suitcase. He stayed still for a moment, admiring Jake as he carefully folded each shirt, hands gentle and sure of themselves. Since Illinois, every look he’d given Rich was coated in a layer of lies Rich hadn’t been on the receiving end of since sophomore year.

He didn’t know Rich was watching him now. He looked sad, irrevocably so. The tip of his nose was red, the first sign of sadness. Then it was the parted lips—he was a snotty crier. Rich learned that after watching Bambi with him. He’d been crying, and now he couldn’t breathe through his nose. His chest was moving up and down in stuttery, unsure movements, and after every piece of folded laundry, he had to pause to press the heel of his hand against his mouth to stifle a sob.

“What’s wrong?” Rich rushed out, the usual sluggishness of his mornings completely eradicated by Jake—Jake crying.

Jake jumped at the sound of Rich’s voice and regained his composure within a split second. There was suddenly a smile, open body language, and eyes that remained just as dead as before.

“You’re awake! I have something for you.”

“I don’t care, what’s—”

“No, no, trust me, you’ll care, hold on.”

Still smiling beautifully, he turned to the desk and grabbed two pieces of paper. Then, movements peppy and face alight, he sat down in front of Rich and handed them to him.

“Okay…?” Rich said, looking down at the pieces of paper with little interest—Jake. Crying. Jake. Crying. That was all he was worried about.

Until he realized the papers were printed out plane tickets. One to Florida, the flight set to leave eight hours from then. Another three days later, from Florida to New Jersey. He reread the words. Then reread them. And again. And again.

All he could get out was, “What the fuck?”

“You can see the Everglades!” Jake said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well—well yeah, but… we’re driving there? Together?”

Jake shook his head. “No, yeah, we were, but—I mean, after Illinois…”

He paused to clear his throat and look away. Rich was on the verge of screaming, but that could wait until Jake had finished whatever shitty explanation he was about to offer. The longer the silence lasted, the more Jake’s sunny demeanor faded out.

“After Illinois, I mean you don’t—you aren’t happy, Rich. Not around me. Last night, like, with Michael—” Rich had never heard Jake struggle with words this much. He was stuttering, tripping over his words, raising his volume too high then lowering it to the point Rich could barely hear him. “—you were talking to him, and you won’t do that with me anymore, and I want you to talk like that because it’s—fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and if you can’t do that around me anymore—because I fucked up and apparently ruined the best thing to ever happen to me—then maybe some time apart would be good for us?”

Jake looked up at Rich hopefully. Rich wasn’t sure what he was hoping for and he didn’t have the energy to figure it out through the anger crawling inside his skin.

“You’re kicking me out?”

“No! No. I just think you should have the chance to be—no, I need the chance to—I want you to be happy—”

“I’m happy.”

“You won’t even look at me. You won’t talk to me. I’m hurting you.”

Rich suddenly understood why Jake had looked so heartbroken after hearing the phrase you’re my best friend. Having his words manipulated and turned against him hurt more than the flames ever had.

“That’s—no—”

“And I thought I could fix it by just being your friend, but we’re not even that anymore. I want us to be. So badly. I can’t lose you. I can’t go to Harvard without coming home to you every night. And I’ll do anything to save us, and right now that means you have to get away from me.”

“Stop—”

“So I got you tickets to go see the Everglades. I even booked you a boat tour. I’m not sure about seeing a Burmese python, but you can try. Then you can have the rest of summer in New Jersey with Michael and everyone else, and we can meet up in Boston, and everything will be okay.”

“Jake—”

“I can’t ruin another relationship. I know I have a bad track record, I know I can’t commit or be romantic, and you’re probably right to realize I’d destroy whatever beautiful thing we managed to create, but honestly, you’re more beautiful than anything I could ever make, and I can’t destroy that, I have to protect that, even if I’m not around to see it for a while.”

“No—”

“But I can move on while we’re apart, and hopefully you can too, then we can be best friends in Boston and roommates forever and you can get married and I can pretend I’m happy for y—”

Rich kissed him. Quick and sloppy and frantic. It was hypocritical, to say the least, self-destructive if Rich was being completely honest with himself. But the feeling of Jake falling into it, pressing closer and moving so his trembling hands could press against Rich’s waist and back, was intoxicating.

Rich kept it short, though the feeling of just Jake’s gentleness was enough for him to want more.

He pulled back, Jake trailing after him until he collapsed against Rich, forehead pressed to Rich’s shoulder and lips pressed to his neck and collarbone.

“I don’t understand,” he said between kisses. Rich promised himself he’d memorize the feeling before it was taken from him.

“I’d rather be heartbroken with you than happy with anyone else,” Rich explained softly, tangling his fingers in Jake’s hair and pulling his head back to look him in the eye. Jake breathed out a sound Rich chose not to identify and tried to lean up and kiss Rich again.

“You’re not ruinous,” Rich got out just before Jake gifted him kiss after kiss like offerings to a god, “You’re not destructive and Chloe doesn’t define you and I’m sorry I implied she did, I shouldn’t have, and I’m terrified I’m gonna lose you and terrified this is all a prank and terrified you’re going to leave—”

“Never,” Jake confessed, eyes closed and expression melted into pure bliss. “Never, ever, ever. It took me too long to realize how bad I want you. I can’t lose more time.”

“I want you too.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I can be once I get my head out of my ass and realize you’re even more perfect than I thought.”

Jake laughed soundlessly and pulled Rich onto his lap. “Perfect?”

“You’re gorgeous. You’re kind. You’d never purposefully hurt me, and I was stupid to think you would. I just—it hurt. The car. You telling me—Jake, I was still in survival mode. I didn’t mean anything I said. I swear it. Please don’t make me leave.”

Jake shook his head.

“No, I won’t. I can’t. I’m sorry for what I said in the car. That wasn’t cool or okay, I just… panicked? Because I always knew—I didn’t want to say it, or think it, or acknowledge it, but I knew, and you saying it made it so real I couldn’t even pretend I could ever want anyone else and that was—I wasn’t ready for that to hit so suddenly.”

Rich felt so warm inside he was convinced he was going to overheat and collapse in on himself like a dying star. He kissed Jake like he was made of roses until he was convinced he’d erased every terrible thought he’d placed in Jake’s mind in Illinois.

“So we’re going to stop being cowards now,” Rich said, clear and determined, “And I’m going to be happy because the most beautiful boy in the world decided I’m worth his time and he’s going to be happy because now I’m here to tell him he’s the most beautiful boy in the world every single morning, and that he can’t kick me to the curb even if he tries.”

Jake laughs and nods and kisses him again.

“God,” he whispered, tracing stars on Rich’s hips, “I’ve never been so glad I wasted two thousand dollars in my life.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

There was a short, weighted pause. Then, “Wait, did you say two thousand? Jake, flights to Florida should not be two thousand dollars.”

“Well, not for economy.”

“Econ—you were planning on giving me first-class tickets to Florida to soften the blow of practically breaking up with me?”

Jake was too giddy to be offended. He wrapped himself around Rich and kissed him again.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time, shut up.”

“No, I am not shutting up, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. We’re going to seriously work on your spending habits in Boston, buddy—baby—you’ve got the rest of the summer to be an idiot with your money, then we’re starting a retirement fund. For fuck's sake, you’re going to be broke by the time you’re thirty.”

#bmc #richjake #jake dillinger #rich goranski #i can't spell i'm so tired #help me #the ending was so rushed i'm so exhausted #sorry besties #i'll try harder next time i swear #i keep thinking tomorrow is saturday which is why i stayed up so late working on this but i literally have school tmrw #whoops #sparkly star fanfic

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wisteria-blooms · 2 years

Text

long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (9/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. Also, I'm going to ask for forgiveness for any errors, though I did proofread it twice... As always, your kind comments make my day. :) CHAPTER 9: A family tradition brings Bill back into your life. (5k words) TAG LIST MOVED TO THE BOTTOM. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged & if I missed you!

CHAPTER 9: ALL GROWN UP

As tolerable as the first month was, the second month of living with Fred and George was nearing unbearable. Under the layer of them being your best friends, it was easy to see that they were just boys. Boys that weren’t ready for any other roommates than themselves.

For example, on the rare occasion the two wanted a meal at home, you’d find their plates and scraps in the sink, sorely forgotten until an unforgivable scent began creeping up in the air. The living room was always littered with shirts and socks missing their other half. You did the honours of collecting them and taking them to the laundry room which was in the corridor. Every time you did try to do laundry, the machine was full of wet clothes from days ago. You couldn’t blame Fred and George for forgetting their laundered clothes, but you were getting irritated having to remove everything from their damp trousers to undergarments if you wanted your own clothes cleaned. Eventually, you gave up and sent everything to Malkin’s and would collect them the next day.

Through an unwanted discovery, you learned that the room adjacent to the laundry room was an experiment room. Though innocuous-sounding at first, it took three ruined reports for you to discover that you hated its existence. Every random and sudden explosion at all hours of the day took you by surprise, jerked your hand, and caused a jilted line that maimed whatever report you were writing. You lost countless hours re-writing them.

You discovered that Fred liked late night showers while George preferred early morning ones. You thought a silencing charm would do the trick but they were only perfectly silencing until the only things you could hear were your own thoughts. And you hated that because you couldn’t shake off Bill even in your deepest sleep at night. Yes, you had come to terms that you were infatuated with him. He’d be there, hand extended towards you, standing outside of Shell Cottage in the summer breeze. Unfortunately, this was on the tamer side of things. Sometimes, he’d be waiting on a bed when you returned home from work. There would be a smouldering expression on his face and his shirt would be halfway undone. Your dreams never got further than that, and you would wake when your head hit the one of the walls that sandwiched your bed. Regardless, one little dream was enough for Bill to linger in your head the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, there was no cold shower cure to rid yourself of Bill Weasley.

In terms of other issues, the only money you had in your bank account were your savings and the difference between your father’s stipend and Bill’s rent. Figuring out your finances combined with the downgrade in your living conditions left you sleep-deprived and demotivated. Your pride, though, kept you from going home. Residing at the manor would be admitting defeat, and Malfoys simply didn’t lose. The slightest thought of your father’s contemptuous smirk incited rage and gave you motivation to stay at the flat.

You were going to stay, no matter how thin the thread you were hanging onto was.

“Ow!”

You kicked your feet up from behind you and plucked out what looked like a sharp plastic fragment from your sock. “What is this?”

“Something we’re working on,” Fred said, running towards you and retrieving the lost piece of his invention from your hand. “Sorry, (Y/N).”

“Could you keep it off the floor?” you hissed. You limped awkwardly to your room and grabbed your purse that was hanging on the door.

“No promises,” Fred responded with a shrug.

“I’d like to see this shoved up your—,” you began, but Fred had already disappeared, likely to get back to the experiment room.

You exited the complex and out of the empty shop before it opened. Today, you decided to redirect your interests to something else. Work and reports kept your weekends at bay, but you vowed to get out of the flat today. Seriously, nothing good could come out of being around Fred and George on a Saturday.

After a walk around town, you decided on perusing the aisles of Flourish and Blotts. As you entered the store, you caught the attention of a young woman standing near the magazine rack. You swerved around who you distinctly knew as Pansy Parkinson. She was flanked by two friends, but she was quick to pick up on you.

“Well, well, well,” she said with a raise of her thin eyebrow. She lowered her magazine to get a better look at you. “If it isn’t (Y/N).”

“Stellar observation, Parkinson,” you responded.

Her eyes trailed upward to your eyes. “You’re looking tired,” she quipped.

“And you’re still looking single.”

Pansy’s face dropped. Her friends quickly turned around, concealing their laughter. She scowled at them.

Pansy had always harboured a grudge against you because your younger brother rejected her advances back in school. Pansy, being a total coward, used you as a scapegoat. You didn’t mind it because you didn’t care for her, and it took a load off Draco’s back. You reckoned she was still madly in love with him and clung onto every hope that Astoria wasn’t the one for him. But it was futile because as much as you thought your brother was a git, he was rather kind to Astoria. And you’d rather have Astoria, nice but a bit boring, over Pansy any day.

“And Draco’s doing well, if you were going to ask. Think he’ll make it official with Astoria soon enough.” You walked away quickly, looping through shelves until she was out of sight.

You naturally gravitated towards the lifestyle section of the bookstore. You were certain you’d read every Madame Millicent publication in the annals. Well, all except one. Over the weeks, you became intensely curious about what your mother’s friends were reading, that book about pleasing a husband. Though you found the concept wretched and backwards, the idea of having a lover was the ultimate temptation. You scoped your surroundings to ensure that no one was around. Then slowly, you pulled the book out from the shelf: Madame Millicent’s Guide for the Docile Witch: Pleasing the Patriarch.

You skimmed the table of contents. It was divided into different sections. Some were benign: childrearing, housekeeping, cooking, gardening, and so forth. Others were more controversial: self-preservation, subservience, and… what? You did an one-over. Sex, it read.

The three letters ignited a moral dilemma inside of you. Should you? Should you not? You shut your eyes, fighting with the devil and angel on your shoulders.

Just a peek into the ‘forbidden’ section shouldn’t hurt – you were more than of age. And you really should know more. Your mother never went over any of this with you as she assumed asking you to wait until marriage was enough. It was unjust and terrible; the men of the family were never expected to follow this backward rule. Anything you did know was through anecdotes and wildly inappropriate muggle shows and movies through a television that Fred had pilfered from his father. Your family friends and their upper-crust circle were too uptight to even broach the subject.

Really, to spare yourself the trouble, you should’ve just bought the book and read it in the comfort of your own room. But that would be putting money into Millicent’s pocket and encouraging her to write more about worshipping the patriarchy.

Quickly, your fingers flicked the pages until you were on page 289. Then, you began to read.

Your husband’s pleasure is paramount and is the key to a happy marriage. In this chapter, I will explore tried and true methods to increase his satisfaction in the bedroom. I say this can be divvied up into two categories: physical and emotional…

Heat rose to your cheeks as you skimmed through Madame Millicent’s advice, especially her advice on enhancing physical pleasure. When you realized the images she decided to incorporate were lifelike, you felt the warmth on your face intensify but you just couldn’t pull away. You wondered how Bill’s calloused hands would feel as they firmly gripped your bare waist. Or how his body would feel as you writhed underneath him—

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up so quickly that gave yourself whiplash.

It was the ever-so discernible voice of Molly Weasley. Oh, crap. You felt a part of you die as you met her kind brown eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley.” You quickly snapped the book shut and held it behind you. You weren’t sure if she’d gotten a peek of the images you were looking at. Slowly, you slid it on the shelf behind you like you’d never taken it out in the first place.

“Fancy seeing you here. Are you looking for some new books too?” she asked, gazing up at the section you were in. She had a basket looped around her arms, loaded with groceries that probably meant this was her last stop.

“You could say that, yes,” you responded.

Molly eyed the gap where you’d taken the book from.

“If you’re looking for housekeeping tips, I have better recommendations. I find that Millicent’s tips are good for immediate satisfaction, but there are better authors for quality spells. Oh, but the board you made for dinner was really lovely indeed. I could tell it was Millicent you read based off the swirl pattern of the meats.”

“I quite agree,” you responded. “It was easy to follow.”

She pursed her lips in thought and trailed her fingers over the spines of a row of books until she landed on one. “Ah, I do enjoy Viola Vickery’s Vital Tips for the Kitchen.” She gracefully pulled the book out and put it in your hands. “Roxanne Reinhart’s Rights for a Righteous Home is a fantastic one, too. But,” she paused, “only if this is what you’re looking for.”

“Exactly what I came here for,” you affirmed. “Thank you.”

A chime sounded from her watch.

“Goodness, is it three already?” she exclaimed. “I must be getting home. Bill is stopping by today.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest with the mention of his name.

“He says he has important news and I should be the first to know.”

Who knew Molly Weasley was so good at throwing sucker punches too?

“Then you must get going, Mrs. Weasley,” you said with a polite smile. “I’ll be sure to read your recommendations.”

“Well, feel free to stop by anytime, dear. I have most of these books at home that are yours to borrow.”

You nodded, watching as Molly paid for her book and then hastily walk out the door. It seemed that there was no escaping Bill wherever you went. Feeling mortified that Bill’s mother of all people had caught you reading about unholy acts, you sped home in record time. The overhead sun, mingled with hot embarrassment, beat down on you. You also wondered what news could be so urgent that Bill had to tell his mother first.

“Letter for you, (Y/N)!” George called from across the room when he heard the bell chime. He gestured towards the cash register.

You eyed the unfurled parchment beside you. “Did you open it already?” you asked.

“Your family’s owl sure is persistent,” Fred said, coming up from behind you. He raised his hand which had a red peck mark in front of your face as proof. “Wouldn’t go until we read it. So, I’ll do the honours of reading it again.”

Before you could protest, Fred had grabbed the letter and held it above his head. You pouted, persisting with your hands, but Fred simply laughed. It was a futile effort given his height. You gave up and prepared yourself for the inevitable.

“Dearest (Y/N).” Fred imitated your mother, a posh, uptight accent coating his voice. His smile then morphed into a scowl. “I would appreciate it if you responded to my dinner invitations. Nonetheless, I hope you and Bill will join us in our annual trip to the French Riviera. You know how important this trip is to our family. Regards, Narcissa.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Fred quirked an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

“I forgot,” you exhaled sharply, “about the trip.” You’d been so focussed on keeping your life and sanity together that this summer trip was the last thing on your mind.

“The one where you mysteriously disappear for weeks?” he questioned.

“I don’t mysteriously disappear!” you retorted, snatching your mother’s letter from Fred now that he had it at your level. You skimmed it over and was disheartened to find Fred had read it word-for-word. “I’ve been going to France every summer since I was born.”

Fred sniggered. “Looks like you won’t be alone this time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Aren’t you going to invite Bill?” George asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

In your eyes, you and Bill were a done deal. But Fred and George were none-the-wiser, and now Fred was eyeing you strangely.

“What’s going on with you?” Fred inquired, leaning in to inspect your person to make sure someone hadn’t taken Polyjuice Potion and had been impersonating you. “You look dreary, haven’t been yourself lately either. You’re more eager than usual to bark at me like you did this morning.”

Your tolerance for Fred was dwindling every second he stuck his face way too close to yours. What angered you the most was how little awareness he had that it was him causing you to be so dreary, as he’d put it. You wanted to scream that it was him ruining any hope of a good sleep with his late showers, singing, and random experiments.

But you bit back everything you wanted to spew. “I have to start packing.” You quickly retreated upstairs to avoid causing a scene.

When you were back in your room, you opened your closet. It dawned on you that you’d sent all your nice clothes in a suitcase for Bill to keep when you were packing with your mother. Sighing, you closed the doors and took a step back. As you turned, your reflection in the mirror caught your eye.

You felt like you were staring at a stranger. Your eyes were sullen and a deep frown pulled at your lips. You hated what you saw, too, this gloomy apparition of an usually happy girl. Despite your mother’s constant criticisms, you were always made to feel beautiful and important. You were good enough for the world, just never good enough for your family’s standards. Now you were in front of the mirror, picking apart your every feature. You even tried to straighten your back like how you saw the French woman, who you kindly dubbed as Bill’s paramour, was standing in the bank. You wondered if you looked as intelligent and graceful as she did. You mussed and ran your fingers through your hair, wondering how to get it to flow so delicately.

Normally, you spoke your mind without a care for propriety. Now, you’d lost your edge and was reduced to a stuttering fool in front of Bill and his family, all because you were worried about what they’d think of you.

You really hated feeling like this.

You waited until Tuesday to ask Bill if he was free to have a chat. Tuesday, as you deemed it, was the perfect day. Even if he said no (which you were certain he would), you could just do mindless work at the Ministry instead of simmering in embarrassment over the weekend. If Bill Weasley were a warranty then you were long past the guaranteed date.

To your surprise, Bill had written back by the evening, suggesting you stop by the penthouse tomorrow after work. Your palms turned clammy when you realized he was inviting you over. Not to the café, or the shop, but to his place where you would be alone.

On Wednesday afternoon, you found yourself cowering with apprehension at the entrance of a building erected by Lennox Gardens. Standing in the centre of a circular pavilion, you willed yourself to regain composure. You had to strut in confidently to fool the stout concierge behind the desk who was looking at you with shifty eyes.

“Excuse me!” he called out, pushing himself off a chair that was too high for him. He walked over with a slight wobble. “Where are you going?”

It took you grit to get this out. “I’m (Y/N) Malfoy, Bill Weasley’s girlfriend,” you responded.

“Haven’t seen you come in with him,” he mumbled as he pushed his round glasses up, still unimpressed with your response.

“Then you must not be doing your job well,” you remarked, looking down at him. “We live together. Most of the time I come back in the late evenings when you’re dozing off.”

Your turned to your left and pushed a button. “Bill, I forgot my keys,” you spoke into the intercom. “Would you let me in?”

Without another word, you could hear the lift coming down.

“You are aware that my father, Lucius Malfoy, owns the unit, aren’t you?” you asked before the doors closed. “Don’t make me advise him of your failing to do your job.”

You fell back on the wall of the lift when the doors finally shut. The last thing you saw was the concierge’s frightened face. Leveraging your father was only fun the first few times around, now it just felt risky, and you felt bad for the poor chap just trying to do his job. The nausea in your stomach hastened with each floor that you whizzed by. Eleven, twelve, thirteen… When you landed on the 25th floor with a smooth stop, the gated doors began to open.

Your mouth fell agape; the penthouse was spacious and breath-taking. So, this was what you could’ve had. Your eyes first landed on the kitchen island, made of tonnes of glossy white marble. The eight white leather barstools were worlds above the battered ones that Fred and George had. There was a full kitchen complete with a stocked wine closet enclosing the area. Bill had tastefully hung up some paintings to brighten up the neutral tones. There were multiple sectionals sofas on a carpet right of the island, the longest of the three facing the ceiling-high windows.

You walked closer, watching your reflection in the glass move with you. The views outside the window were shrouded by clouds. From so high above, you could see the entire city, and blurred bits of muggle London in the skyline.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Bill said as he jogged down the stairs from the second floor. He sported slacks and a loose white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “How are you? Haven’t seen you since the concert.”

“Right,” you responded, nerves still abundant. You withdrew your hands from your back and clapped them together. “I’m well. How was it?”

“You haven’t heard?” Bill quirked an eyebrow. “I thought Fred would’ve ratted me out already.”

“No, he hasn’t.” To be honest, you hadn’t prodded at all. You were scared that Fred would tell you that Bill hadn’t come home that night, setting your wicked imagination off.

“Charlie and I came home in quite the state,” he said with a chuckle. “Had a couple drinks too many. We were acting more like boys rather than men, and mum threw a fit, asked us if we were thirty or thirteen. Charlie said thirteen, but he was a little drunk.”

You laughed. At least there was some relief that Bill hadn’t spent the night in another woman’s bed.

“But anyway,” Bill said as he walked over to grab a glass from the rack in the kitchen. “What brings you here? Sounded urgent.”

“Well.”

You looked at him nervously.

“Do you remember when I said my family goes to France every summer?” you asked.

“Yes, I do,” Bill responded. “Drink?” he asked, holding a glass towards you.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

You stuck out an arm and offered him your mother’s letter instead. He took it and began to read. You tried to meet Bill’s focussed eyes, but there was a shock of heat that prickled your skin every time you tried. You couldn’t deny that he looked ever so handsome, the lights above casting shadows on his well-structured face.

“It’s almost August now, so,” you added gently. “Yearly tradition and all that.”

“I see.” Bill drummed his fingers on the marble counter while reading.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve explored every other avenue,” you continued. “I tossed all my mother’s dinner and tea invitations. And I can tell them you’re busy, even if they’re persistent, which I know they will be.”

“That’s quite alright,” Bill consoled. He set the letter down and took a swig of ice water, as if that’d help him come to a decision. “When are you going, again?”

“The second week of August.”

“I’ll check my calendar,” he said. “It’s in my office.” He pushed himself off the chair and eyed you when you didn’t move. “Would you like a tour of the place?”

You perked up immediately. “Yes.”

“I mean, it’s half yours too, don’t forget that,” he reminded. As Bill led you out of the living room and up the stairs, he turned back to face you. “It just dawned on me that the owner of 1 Lennox doesn’t even visit her own property,” he teased with a sigh. “You’re exactly the kind of homeowner Kingsley’s new property bill would tax heavily.”

“Then he should tax my father, not me,” you said with a grin, catching up to his long strides. “I didn’t choose to live here.”

The second floor of the penthouse housed the bedrooms and the den which served as Bill’s office. You entered the room with Bill. It was a neat space kept simple with a desk, filing cabinet, bookshelf and a swivel chair. You noted that Bill kept pyramid-shaped paperweights on his desk. You could take the boy out of Egypt, but you couldn’t take the Egypt out of the boy, you supposed.

Bill picked up his calendar and traced the next few weeks with the back of a quill. He came to a stop after a few moments. He scrunched his nose and exhaled. “Got a meeting with the department head that week.”

Ah, shit.

“But I can always arrange for that to be moved to the week after,” Bill mused to himself as he scribbled on the paper. “Given our workload, it’s absurd to think we could’ve met that deadline, anyway.”

“Right.”

“So, that’ll free up the second week of August,” Bill said. He threw the calendar down on his desk and looked at you. “How’s that for an answer, (Y/N)?”

You stilled.

“What?”

“What?” Bill repeated. He leaned over the desk and took an inquisitive glance, in a similar manner Fred had last weekend, at you. It seemed he was expecting more of an enthusiastic response out of you. You quickly looked down, unable to bear the intensity of his blue eyes boring into yours.

“No, that’s wonderful,” you whispered, focussed on the sticky notes on Bill’s desk. “Thank you.”

“You were chattier when we first met,” he remarked, pulling away. “Anything on your mind?”

“Not much,” you responded. “I’m just tired.” You rubbed at your eyes and stifled a yawn.

Bill hummed in an understanding manner. “Yeah, Fred and George will cause quite the ruckus, won’t they? I don't get why they take showers at the opposite ends of the day, given they’re twins and all.”

“That’s exactly it,” you said with more vigour. “The moment I fall asleep after Fred’s shower, I’m wakened by George’s.”

“If you need somewhere to get some shut-eye, then I’ll show you to the guest room,” he suggested.

“Won’t I be bothering you?” you asked hesitantly.

“Not at all,” he affirmed. “As I’ve said, this place is too big for just myself. The only thing I can hear most days are my own thoughts.”

Well, you at least had that in common. But you were sure Bill didn’t have dirty dreams about you.

You walked down the wide hall with Bill before stopping at one of the doors. He pushed it open to reveal a modestly-sized (relative to the penthouse) room with a bed and a nightstand. Your mind went somewhere different this time. You wondered if Bill was bringing anyone, particularly women, back to this place. The idea of him being with anyone else under these pure white covers was too much to bear, and not knowing made you miserable. So, you decided to gauge, with very, very gentle pressure, where Bill stood in his romantic life.

“I know we’ve said we’d end this,” you gestured back and forth between you and him, “after two dinners, so I really do appreciate you agreeing to come along to France, but do you think anything could’ve given us away?”

Bill crossed his arms as a pensive look shadowed his face. “I don’t reckon I could’ve,” he said. “What makes you think that?”

“Percy talked to me about the penthouse last time, when I was over for dinner.” You hoped Bill wouldn’t call your bluff; it really wasn’t Percy you were concerned about.

Bill looked taken aback. “Did he?”

You weren’t looking to badmouth Percy in front of Bill, so you quelled your feelings and plainly stated, “he was surprised you’d live here.”

“Well, he wanted to help me move in,” Bill recalled. “Even assembled the bookshelf here and helped me hang some paintings. He must’ve made the connection to you somehow.”

“He didn’t sound too chuffed.”

Bill stifled a laugh into his fist. “Percy has been on the edge since years ago.”

“Hasn’t he always been like that?”

Bill shook his head. “He’ll kill me if I told you this, so don’t tell him I did.”

“What?” You unconsciously leaned in, terribly curious. Your wide eyes beckoned Bill to tell you what he knew.

“Okay.” Bill was easily persuadable, it seemed. He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice, as if Percy was floating around to witness your conversation. “There was a security breach at the Ministry around the time he started there, and he was relaying confidential information in letters to who he thought was Barty Crouch,” Bill said with a grin. “Got in loads of trouble for it. So, he’s compensating a little,” he brought his thumb and index finger closer together, “trying to tie together things if there’s the slightest hint.”

An amused expression overtook your face. “Percy couldn’t possibly have done that.”

“But he did.” Bill’s face lightened up handsomely. “So, don’t worry about him. He means well even if it doesn’t come off that way.”

“I understand.”

Bill walked over to the closet and opened it. “I still have the suitcase you gave me here.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” you said. There was a tingle of pleasure that jolted up from your hand to your heart as Bill’s hands met yours for the briefest of moments when he passed the suitcase to you. “I’m going to need some things in here.”

“Well, I’ve got a little more work to do, but make yourself at home.”

A sudden thought came to your mind. “Bill?” you called. “I can try to make dinner tonight, if you’re busy working.”

“Would you really?” he asked with a tone of surprise. The conversation was reminiscent of the one you had months ago when you were trying to learn every nook and cranny of each other in less than an hour.

“I’ve been reading and practicing.”

“The kitchen is all yours, then,” he said with a smile before exiting the room. “But take it easy, don’t wear yourself out.”

When Bill left, you kneeled and unzipped your suitcase. Your eyes instantly met the beautiful, neatly-folded dresses you packed months ago. Your fingers fished out a photograph tucked in between the layers and layers of pastel silk and satin. Sometime in your teenage years, you took out the family portrait in the photo frame on your nightstand and replaced it with a picture of you, Fred, and George making silly faces in front of the Big Ben. It aggravated your parents to no end; one, for the unsavoury friends you’d made; two, for perusing muggle London; and three, for losing the family portrait.

The family portrait that you thought was long gone was taken when you were three. You were standing on the front step of the manor, holding onto Draco. If you remembered clearly, he was just beginning to learn how to walk, so you were doing most of the heavy work, bracing him from behind to keep him standing. Narcissa and Lucius stood proudly with their two young children in front of their well-maintained estate.

You missed the simpler times before politics took a stronghold in your family. That wrecked everything. Not you or the friends you chose.

You supposed you’d get some shuteye before you attempted anything in Bill’s kitchen. Slowly, you lifted the white covers off the bed. As you crawled in, you sighed in relief. The mattress literally moulded to the shape of your body. It was also so lovely and quiet in this suite – no explosions, running water, singing, slamming doors, or rambunctious laughter. The only audible sounds were Bill’s quill scratching on the parchment and his inviting low hums that floated in from the other room. It was so pleasant that you felt like you could stay here forever. You were still in Bill’s good graces, and though you couldn’t ascertain if he loved anyone else, he was coming with you to France.

Things were really looking up for the better.

As you felt your body relax for the first time in weeks, you figured a short fifteen-minute nap would be enough for recuperate. Just fifteen, you promised, before drifting off to slumber.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

<<CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @inpraizeof @milkiane @lovesanimals0000 @alisslahey @milfodyssey @itscheybaby @lookingthroughmirrors @stiles-argent24@aki-ham @my-current-fandom-is @salvatoremuse @nimue-lady-of-the-lake @agathne @benbarnesismybaby@bangbaang @venus-d-vinyl @lexxxtacyyy @pink-hufflepuff @unicornicopia1@itsrhyann@awesomeowlbook @bamboozledflamplant @howpeculier @jaix-8102 @vilentia @sophneedsfandoms @dontbesuspiciousss @sugarrush-blush

#bill weasley x you #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x y/n

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now-theres-a-spoiler-for-you · 1 year

Text

Writing things down so I can refer back when I need it 😬

On Saturday, I had my first photo op with Alex. After all the online calls we’ve done, it was really like showing up at an old friend’s party where they’re distracted by everything going on around them but really excited to see you. I walked into the booth to wait for the guy in front of me to finish, then they sent me forward to stand beside her. It took about half a second for her to register that it was me standing there but when she did, she squealed with excitement and tried to hug me out of reflex. We’d already been warned by staff that we weren’t allowed to handle the guests and if we did, we’d be removed so I pulled back to keep us both from getting in trouble and Alex was like “oh no, we can’t! I really want to hug you!” We both laughed and I said it was fine, and that I was really just glad to see her at a decent hour for once and she said “yeah, not at f***ing 3 in the morning!”

My brain anytime I hear Alex swear is like this

The woman who was coordinating the photo sessions kind of suggested we move things along because we were holding things up so we cooperated (though we were still very giggly) and stood on the marker. Alex took charge and decided what pose to do for us (thank god because I’m not a posing person) and said “I’m wearing a long skirt so I’m going to go swoosh like a flamenco dancer” and lifted her skirt so I matched her energy. We ended up needing to go again because my glasses reflected weirdly but we’d also been told not to put anything down in the booth for health and safety reasons. I didn’t have pockets so I shoved them unceremoniously down the front of my dress and Alex erupted into laughter again. I was unsure whether my makeup had held up between wearing a mask and my glasses rubbing so I asked her if I was all good (I was) and then we ended up with this 👍🏻

A couple of hours later, I went to visit her again at her autograph table. The staff kept asking if I needed to write my name down for personalization but I wasn’t going to need my name written anyway so I declined and Alex already knew what my name was anyway so I figured I’d save them some paper. I didn’t actually need anything signed but needed to give her some things I’d brought along so I had the banana picture to serve that purpose and I told her it was a bit of a joke item, she was confused but laughed very hard when she saw what I’d drawn and was absolutely bewildered and impressed that I’d captured so many recognizable details like her jewellery and her outfit etc.

After she’d worked out what to write on the picture, I redirected her attention to the gifts I’d brought her and handed over the book (a little book of recipes that corresponded to the mood/theme of excerpts from Shakespeare’s work) and said she was very excited to read it because she loves Shakespeare. Inside my head at that moment was like

but I digress, I merely said “I know!” and then she told me about how she was going to be doing another Shakespeare play soon and that she’s scared that she’s not going to do it justice (she’s going to be the best Prospero ever) and I said I’d seen that news and was very excited for her, and that I really hoped it would be streamed because it’s one of my favourite Shakespeare works. She agreed that it would be a great idea for them to stream it and I told her to push them for it because I know it’s something a lot of people are hoping for.

After that, I pointed to the box that I’d made to house the main portion of my gift pile and told her that she could open it now and that it was for her to take home. I mentioned that she’d seen it before but it had been a long two years (especially for her) so I didn’t expect her to remember. When she opened it, she was stunned and kept squealing “NO” because she felt like it was too grand a gesture but I insisted she take her because I’d done it knowing that she would appreciate that specific type of thing. She almost cried as she took in all of the details and kept saying how much she loved what I’d done and that she was going to cherish it. This was before I’d even shown her that there was a second outfit and set of accessories in the secret compartment.

I decided at that point that it was worth shooting my shot and asking whether it would be possible to bend the rules and get a photo of her with the doll I’d made and Alex turned to her handler with a hopeful look but was told no and I said I understood but she did say that she would keep her on her table for the next Galaxycon chat and would pull her out to say hello to me when it happens. I asked if she knew when it would be because it had been ages since we’d been able to catch up properly and she said she wasn’t sure but she knew there’d be one because they’d already asked if she was open to it.

After that, I went for lunch with friends and then made my way home to rest up for day 2 (I did not rest up for day 2 lmao)

On the morning of day 2, my first mission was to get something personalized for a friend so I headed for her table and met up with another Kinglet I’d met at the con the day before. I missed Alex’s signing by minutes but my friend had just spoken to her and said that when she mentioned me, Alex started gushing about my doll again and asked if she’d seen it and told her to tell me she was still in love 🥹

When I was finally able to get back to her table, the staff handling Alex’s line both called me by name and I was like “oh god am I famous over here or something?” to Alex and she laughed at me. The woman with her then explained she remembered me from the day before. After Alex finished signing my friend’s thing, I said goodbye again and ran off, then we killed some time until her panel.

At the panel, Alex was very funny and charismatic. A lot of the usual questions were asked but there were a few interesting revelations and she did inadvertently share a concept she’d been developing if she writes a new River Song book so I’m really looking forward to that if it happens.

After the panel, I went for another photo with her because I’d bought a second token not realizing that my kids would be camping that day and didn’t want to waste it. I didn’t expect to get a goodbye hug for it since we’d been warned not to but I did anyway so thanks queen 👏🏻

That concludes my Kinglet dream weekend. I hope you enjoyed 😂

#kingston ❤️#alex kingston #brisnova 2022

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satansaidmyturnintheh3llscape · 2 years

Text

Everything Right/Wrong with Ninjago “Legacy of the Green Ninja” E5: Child’s Play

I have some very strong opinions about some of the events that transpire during this episode… Disclaimers: Show owned by LEGO. This is not a professional review/critique - it’s mainly intended for comedy.

Reblog, like, or comment for more!

- Intro ✅

- Last appearance of baby Lloyd’s title card😔❌

- I know I’m starting on my Lloyd stan BS a little early, even for me, but COME ON- not enough people talk about how heartbreaking this opening scene is. He just wants to play like the other kids!!! Just let him play for five minutes please😭 ✅

- Petition to see Lloyd info-dump to his siblings about comic books in modern Ninjago ✅

- “The fate of Ninjago rests on your shoulders. As the Green Ninja you have a giant responsibility to hold. I’m sorry, but you don’t have time for such childish things.” HE’S 8! ❌

- “Come on, pint-sized,” Pint-sized ✅

- *after jumping on the grundle bones* “This is not a solid plan, Cole.” Then why did you follow him? ❌

- Why did the generals even attempt to shove the sarcophagus through the sewer? ❌

- Oh no! They’ve turned the ninja into marketable plushies-

-Okay, fine… I’ll add a win for the compilation of ear-splittingly high pitched screams ✅

- I’d love to sin the excessive amount of voice-swaps in this episode, but unfortunately, due to the kid voices, I can’t even tell half of who’s saying what in the first place, and trying to figure it out is giving me a migraine, and that in itself is a sin ❌

- “Perhaps Garmadon succeeded in turning back the clock…” “Yeah but nindroids don’t turn into kids…” AU where this episode is the same EXCEPT Zane got turned into a pile of lifeless scraps that the ninja had to carry around in a backpack the whole time ❌

- “What do ya got on, apple dumpling gang? Pajamas?” Apparently, the ninja’s suits are so low quality that they can be mistaken for pajamas ❌

- Also, apple dumpling gang ✅

- “Our spinjitzu doesn’t work!” Looked fine to me, at least long enough for the cops to see it and realize something was up ❌

- The cops picked up the ninja at night, and now it’s the next morning. They think these are actual kids, so why are they just now trying to call their parents? And who are they gonna call? Did the ninja give them a phone number? ❌

- Actually, why don’t the ninja just give them Wu’s number so that he can come pick them up? Surely he’s seen weirder things than his pupils turning into kids; I doubt he’d just ignore the call, especially if the ninja’s names were dropped ❌

- Ninja change clothes directly behind this group of young kids ❌

- ^ You may think the phone dangling is just a gag, but it’s actually a clever way to symbolize how the fandom is hanging on by a thread as we wait for the rest of Crystalized to drop ✅

- The TV in Buddy’s Pizza is playing the clips from the pilot that show how each the ninja met Wu. Where could anyone have gotten the footage for that? The fandom in REAL LIFE can barely find those episodes! ❌

- “You’re… SMALL!” Unsupervised 8 year-old walks into a public pizza place with nunchucks, shurikens, a sword and a scythe but him raising his voice is what draws attention? ❌

- “Yeah, but you don’t know the Grundle.” And you do? The only research you did was listen to Garmadon plagiarize a lecture from the History Channel ❌

- “I think I know just the guy…” Please don’t bring them to a dr*g dealer please don’t bring them to a dr*g dealer please don’t-

- “You brought us to a comic book store?!?!” Was that much not clear from the massive “Doomsday Comix” sign out front? ❌

- “If anyone knows how to defeat a monster that doesn’t exist, I know just the person to talk to.” D*mmit, Lloyd! What did I just say about bringing them to a dr*g dealer?!

- The ninja spend this entire episode making fun of Lloyd for reading comic books despite the fact that they are (near) adults who still play video games. Fun fact: there is nothing wrong with either of these things, but it still makes the ninja hypocrites for trying to claim one is fine when the other isn’t ❌

- “Fellas, meet Rufus McAllister, AKA, Mother Doomsday!” Oh, thank god. Not a dr*g dealer… just a Marvel fan. Wait, that might be worse…

- “Well, if it isn’t Lloyd Hemorrhoid Garmadon!” ⬇️

- ^❌

- Also, I thought Lloyd didn’t have friends? Granted, from that nickname, doesn’t sound like were friends, but still ❌

- F*cking illumi-swords??? I’d genuinely rather get sued for saying “lightsabers” than have to actually call something an illumi-sword ❌

- Mystake!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ✅

- I get it’s life and death and all, BUT the ninja still steal (and ultimately break) four illumi-swords, and they never actually pay for those autographed suits ❌

- Also, episode expects me to now carry on the season with the knowledge that the 4 ninja are wearing cheap copies of their previous suits, with their OWN autographs on them ❌

- The Grundle takes a ridiculously long time to eat the ninja… no wonder it went extinct ❌

- “You’ll miss out on the rest of your childhood, dude. We can’t do that to you!” The problem is that Lloyd’s already missing out on his childhood, and realistically that probably won’t change, regardless of some magical age-up, but the episode never touches on that at all ❌

- “Fair? Fair isn’t a word from where I come from!” ✅

- “They are the real ninja” Yeah, no sh*t dude! ❌

- I love how weirded out the ninja look about older Lloyd ✅

- I’m gonna say it: his hair still f*cking sucks ❌

- “You can have my copy of Starfarer. You deserve it.” “That’s okay, I already know how it ends.” If people stopped watching a series because they already got spoiled about it then I can guarantee Ninjago would not have a fandom, especially in the U.S.❌

- Okay, look… I hate the age up. I wish it didn’t happen, mostly because it was kinda treated like the same situation as a young adult needing to grow up (“there comes a time we all must grow up”) and Lloyd is a child. He has a responsibility, yes, and his circumstances force him to grow up early, but he should still be allowed to enjoy whatever childhood he has left, because he’s not going to get that back. Even if they kept the age-up in, the better resolution for this episode should’ve been the ninja letting Lloyd have the comic so that he can read it in his off time. ❌

- Further, it’s treated as if the concept of “all work, no play” is a healthy mindset/work ethic, which it’s NOT. Nonstop training all day shouldn’t be Lloyd’s reality because it isn’t healthy, regardless of age. People are known to perform better when given breaks, so let him have some breaks! ❌

- That being said, this entire ending monologue with the comic book-style art of Lloyd vs. Garmadon is so f*cking cool. I want this art as a poster! ✅

- “Yes, the time until the Final Battle has grown shorter… but the Green Ninja has grown stronger.” ✅✅✅✅✅✅

Sentence: Lloyd kinnies’ tears

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ninjago sins/wins #kid lloyd

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my-makeshift-masquerade · 1 year

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for drabble request, can i get ur glamrock bonnie with a detective reader?

Oh, like they are investigating the disappearances? Sure thing, this one will be fun.

Interviewing A Rabbit

After trying to prove the link of the new disappearances with the string of child murders in the 1980’s, most everyone thought you were crazy or some kind of rabid fan theorist.

“What? William Afton was just a character they made for the game series! Those murders didn’t actually happen!”

Except, as an investigator who dug enough into redacted records, you knew for certain that William Afton was a real person, who had a real body count. A few facts were twisted in the ever popular indie horror franchise, and they had ignored the fact William only killed until his death, with the other subsequent murders being copycat killings by another person. It could be another copycat, you suspected.

That was besides the point. Now, you had a hulking animatronic in front of you, one you had to sneak out of the plex’s basement yourself. They decommissioned this one, Bonnie, suddenly, with security records claiming another large animatronic violently dismantled them. However, they and another scrapped bot had been found with two of the missing children yesterday morning, which resulted in you being called. You decided to take them in and see if you could get any new information. Interrogating a robot? Why the hell not?

They finally started to get enough charge from your garage generator to begin moving… Eyes first, being only red beads of light without the eyeball casings and faceplate. They glanced around the room, then intently focused on you.

“Wh-where—“ They dragged out the word as their voice box seemed to be warming up, “W-what’s going-nggg on…? Where’s—“

“Relax…” You put your hands up calmly, “You’re in my garage. I wanted to ask you a few questions—“

“Questions?” Bonnie spoke more normally now, their red pupils shrinking in slight suspicion, “Well, I’d like to ask one more first. What is this about?”

“The recent disappearances of children at the pizzaplex.”

His ears perked.

“Ah.” The animatronic’s head lowered, “Yeah, those…”

“I’m trying to investigate the case, even though Fazbear Entertainment wants to shove it all under the rug.” You turned on a camera perched nearby, “I’m recording this, just to let you know.”

“Wouldn’t be my first time in front of a camera.” He laughed, “Whaddaya waitin on? I’d like to get back to the plex as soon as possible, if I can… While also helping you, of course…”

“Okay…” You didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what fate would befall the two children discovered with him, and you assumed he was neglecting to mention them since they were safe, “Let’s start easy. What do you know about the disappearances?”

“I… I admit I was sort of investigating it myself.” He slightly shifted his posture against the wall, “Us bots weren’t supposed to know, but, rabbits have a way of hearing about things…”

“Wait… Why were you looking into—“

CLANG

You flinched as his endoskeleton fist clenched and he left a sizable dent in your garage door.

“Why?” The red beams of his eyes almost got brighter with anger, “WHY?!”

Bonnie paused, his posture slumping again as he noticed what he did, “Gosh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. The missing children being reported…and hidden from public attention. It all made me quite…enraged.”

“Oh… Yeah. I-I can imagine…” Your expression softened a bit, watching this large robot look away from you like a guilty puppy, “Your job is to keep them safe and happy, but you found out that your creators weren’t prioritizing that above the reputation of the company. I’d be angry, too.”

“To answer your question. I realized even as we tightened security, that there haven’t been any guests who have displayed such behavior as often as the disappearances were reported.” Bonnie made eye contact again, “It has to be one of the human staff members. I just couldn’t figure out who…“

“You got scrapped for poking your nose into this mess, didn’t you?” You shifted gears, “The alligator one didn’t attack you?”

“What? They’re saying Monty attacked me?” He made a sound comparable to a scoff, “He is still so new. He’s had trouble finding an outlet for his energy, sure, but—“

“That’s what the report said.”

“I can’t remember the actual dismantling too clearly…” The rabbit admitted, “But, he’d never do it by his own will. I was one of the first of the gang to be nice to him. We were close. He was actually going to ask me about the cases that night… We must’ve got interrupted.”

“I see…” You decided to drop the conspiracy now, doubting this robot knew about the murders in the 80’s anyway, “My current theory is a copycat killer, imitating Will—“

CLANG

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before another, larger dent was left in your door.

“DON’T. Say that name...” His tone got low, menacing, “He doesn’t deserve to live on even in passing mention.”

“…You… You say that like you know him personally...”

There was a long silence, then a sigh from the rabbit.

“Alright, detective, you got me!” He laughed a goofy laugh, almost flipping his mood instantly.

“Wait, did you know him or not? How the hell could you know him?” You were very confused, “You can’t possibly be that old of a model— Wait. You aren’t literally him, are you? I swear to God if you are—“

“What? Oh heavens, no!” He snorted, shaking his head, “Trust me, friend, I am Bonnie… I’m just The Bonnie. The first one ever made back in 1970…8??? Yeah, ‘78, that’s it. Good year.”

“You mean Spring Bonnie? But…how?”

“Technically, he took control of my hands to kill those poor children. He…wore me, back then.” He looked almost like he was in pain, “I had no control of it. Now, that I have this body to myself… Now that I finally have freedom… I want to prevent history from repeating… At any cost.”

“S-so… You aren’t him. You’re like the soul of the suit itself…?” You held your head in your hands, your mind heavy from processing it all, “That means… You were basically a witness to all of it?! The murders?! The bite?! ALL OF IT?!”

“Oh, hop along, I’ve seen everything…” He shut off one of his red ocular sensors for a moment as if to wink at you, “May want to grab a snack, though… This will be a long story…”

#drabble #fnaf #fnaf x reader #into the breach

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