#but my dad said he sounded really bad and - for the first time ever - scared | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

singularattitudeofasafetypin · 1 year

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Safe With Me

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Summary: Reader gets anxious when Eddie drives fast but is afraid to tell him in case he thinks she's boring.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: insecurity, descriptions of anxiety, reference to a parent driving dangerously when mad

Please don't steal my work

Eddie always drives like a maniac.

His rickety old van was infamous around town, careening down quiet roads and scaring the life out of their residents. Hopper had issued more tickets than he could count but nothing seemed to deter him. Maybe it was the rush it gave him? The thrill of breaking the rules or maybe he was just reckless?

Whatever it was, it just wasn’t the same for you.

Driving always made you anxious. You could count on one hand the number of times you’d driven since getting your licence. Every time you tried your mind was flooded with all the things that could go horribly wrong. Panic set in your chest. Thoughts rushing so loud you couldn’t focus on the road in front of you. You didn’t even own your own car.

But it ran deeper than that.

When you were younger, you could always tell if your dad was mad by the way he drove. Always pushing the speed limit after an argument, getting just a little too close to the car in front and yelling out the window when someone got in his way. Your heart would race, breath hitch when he broke sharply, and your foot tap on an imaginary break when he didn’t slow ‘til the last minute. Thankfully, nothing bad had ever happened to you, but it frightened you all the same.

When you and Eddie got together a few months back, the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’d had a crush on him forever! All it took was a push from Nancy and a shove from Dustin to find out he felt the same way.

Eddie was wonderful! The perfect boyfriend really. You couldn’t be happier.

But then he’d offered to drive you home.

You’d happily climbed into the passenger seat, smiling as he shut the door behind you. He kissed your cheek, flicked on the radio, and turned the key in the ignition.

It was all you could do not to gasp when he pulled out of the parking lot.

From the first lurch, your heart began fluttering like a bird straining against your ribs, desperate to be free of its cage. Eddie kept talking like nothing was wrong. You could barely make out his words over the noise of the radio and the rushing panic in your ears. You tried to smile and nod at what you hoped were appropriate times but adrenaline was coursing through your body, breath coming in sharp, shallow gulps.

He skidded to a halt outside your house and immediately hopped out to get the door for you.

‘Your palace, my lady!’ he grinned, helping you down by the hand with his usual theatrical flair. You smiled weakly.

‘Thanks Eddie.’

He kissed you goodbye and you did your best to smile and wave as he went tearing down the street and around the corner before letting a shaky breath out. Residual nausea beginning to dissipate as you stepped inside.

In hindsight, maybe you should have just talked to him. Told him how you felt, been honest. You know, the sort of thing you’re supposed to do in relationships but it was all still so new! You rehearsed the conversation in your mind a thousand times but it just sounded pathetic. Like you were making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe you were? ‘Just leave it!’ you thought, ‘He’ll think you’re so boring!’

So instead, you made excuses.

‘Sorry Eds, I can’t. My mum’s picking me up today!’

‘I want to bike home today. It’s so sunny!’

‘I’m going to Nancy’s, she said she’d take me.’

It was all going so well until the universe turned against you. Or rather, the weather did.

You stood under the bike shelter, staring up at the charcoal sky as fat raindrops fell hard against the roof. They spattered over the school parking lot, sloshing in puddles and trickling along the gutters while a bitter wind waxed and waned. Icy drips hit your knuckles, white as they gripped your bike’s handlebars. You sighed. Ten minutes since school ended and the sky had only gotten darker. The rain wasn’t stopping any time soon.

Tugging the yellow hood of your raincoat over your head, you ventured out into the deluge. You were busy dreading every second of the freezing ride home when your attention was caught by a familiar voice hollering your name. You couldn’t help but smile when you turned. Eddie was sprinting toward you, his own dark raincoat held over his head rather than around his shoulders while his scuffed-up trainers splashed along the ground.

‘No way am I letting you bike home in this!’ he scolded good-naturedly when he reached you, ‘Let me give you a ride home!’

Your smile faltered.

‘It’s okay Eddie…’ you searched frantically for a reason to refuse him, ‘I was just gonna call my mum!’

Sure, you were! Halfway across the parking lot, clearly heading away from school. The lie was so obvious, Eddie nearly laughed. ‘Don’t you remember? You said she was at work today!’

‘Oh yeah,’ Idiot! You cursed yourself, ‘Nancy then! We’ve actually been meaning to meet up and study.’

Eddie frowned a little, ‘She’s got that thing after school, doesn’t she? I saw her unlocking the darkroom on the way out.’

Strike two!

‘Yeah, I uh…’ your confidence crumbled, ‘I can just wait for her or something…’ The ruse was becoming thinner by the second. Eddie folded his arms.

‘What’s this actually about?’ he asked, ‘Why won’t you just let me take you home?’ His words weren’t angry or accusing, just confused, but a flicker of panic began to rise in your chest. ‘You haven’t let me drive you anywhere for weeks,’ he went on, ‘Have I done something to upset you?’

‘No!’

‘Then what is it?’ his dark brown eyes filled with worry as thunder rolled in the distance. Eddie’s arms ached from holding his coat, his fingers bitterly cold. The rain had seeped into his shoes and through his socks but he didn’t care. All that mattered was figuring out what he’d done wrong!

It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t remember anything he’d said or done that could make you pull away. You were just as content and affectionate most of the time but at the end of the school day, you couldn’t seem to lose him fast enough.

You wouldn’t look him in the eye now, your hands gripping your bike so tight he was afraid you might hurt yourself. How had he managed to screw up the best thing that had happened to him so soon?

‘Please?’ he was begging, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his fear as you bit your lip nervously, ‘Just tell me!’

‘I don’t like it when you drive fast!’

You just sort of blurted it out. No ceremony, no elegance. The words fell clumsily from your mouth, tugged almost involuntarily. Eddie didn’t say anything.

Now the words wouldn’t stop, tumbling out too fast, trying to justify. ‘I know, it’s stupid! Childish, I know!’ Despite the cold, you felt your cheeks turn warm. ‘But it just makes me really anxious and I-!’

‘Is that all?’

You stopped abruptly, looking up as an elated smile began to pull at the corner of his mouth. This wasn’t what you’d expected. His eyes held a mixture of gratitude, guilt, and hope.

‘Yeah?’ your voice came out uncertain but the smile only spread wider.

It was as though a weight had been lifted. Of course, Eddie felt awful that he’d scared you, even more so that he hadn’t even noticed. But this, this was something he could fix! He laughed a little, almost giddy with relief. ‘So then, I just won’t drive fast baby!’

You blinked in surprise, rendered speechless. Eddie shrugged his coat on at lightning speed, his hair already sodden by the time he was easing your bike from your grip. ‘Really?’ You hadn’t expected it to be that simple. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as though it was obvious.

‘Really! Now come on, you’re getting soaked!’ and without waiting for an answer, he turned and started wheeling your bike across the parking lot. You hurried after him, puddles splashing under your feet and wetting your socks.

‘You mean it?’ you asked when you reached the van. Eddie was pulling open the doors and stowing your bike safely in the back. He just nodded, opening the passenger side door next and helping you in.

He climbed in the other side, wriggling his coat off and tossing it behind him before turning the key in the ignition. You fiddled anxiously with your fingers. ‘You don’t think I’m being annoying?’ insecurity gnawed away at your stomach, ‘Or boring? Or silly? Or-? ‘

‘Sweetheart,’ Eddie interrupted, taking your hand and pressing a reassuring kiss to your fingertips. He looked up at you with those kind, warm eyes and melted your concern with his soft, tender voice, ‘I want you to feel safe with me.’

You sighed out. There was no deception, no hidden irritation or passive aggression. Eddie really meant it. He wanted you to be happy. Your peace was his priority.

‘Okay?’ he asked, still watching your face for confirmation.

You smiled shyly and nodded, ‘Okay.’

Eddie grinned back, pressing another kiss to your hand before dropping it and returning his own to the steering wheel.

True to his word, the ride home was as gentle as you could have wished for. You doubted Eddie had even driven this responsibly on his test… if he’d ever taken one. After five or ten minutes, you found the usual anxious knot that twisted in your chest had unwound. The tension in your muscles evaporated and soon you were laughing and joking with Eddie and singing along to the radio.

Before you knew it, he was pulling up outside your house. Funny, you thought, he’d been so cautious and yet the journey seemed to take half the time. You kissed his cheek and hopped down from the van.

The rain had stopped. Tarmac still dark and damp and small puddles were left here and there but blue sky and sunshine were breaking through the clouds, warming the sidewalk and glittering gold in the dew drops.

‘Can I pick you up tomorrow?’ Eddie asked, opening up the back to lift your bike out. He was tentative, worried he was pushing too far but you smiled and nodded.

‘Yes, thanks Eddie!’

You took the bike from him and turned to wheel it toward the porch when an indignant ‘Hey!’ sounded behind you. Eddie clutched at his heart, collapsing onto the side of the van gasping dramatically, ‘No goodbye kiss? Oh, cruel temptress! Is there no compassion? No mercy?’

With peals of laughter, you ran back to oblige him. He squeezed his arms around you, smiling so hard it was hardly a real kiss. This time, there was no barrier between you. No shadow, no secrets. Only the sweetness that honesty in love brings.

You walked your bike back down the garden path, waving to Eddie as the van pulled away. You watched him draw further and further down the street until he disappeared around the corner.

You smiled and rummaged for your keys. The weight on your shoulders had dissolved to nothing and somehow, you were even lighter than before.

Eddie Munson always drove like a maniac.

Until he didn’t.

Until you.

***

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this. If you liked it, please reblog and comment! I love hearing what people thought of my writing! Check out my masterlist for more!

Taglist: @sadbitchfangirl, @neewtmas, @ladymunson

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

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The Last Ride Chapter Two (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

series masterlist

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

a/n: ok remember when i said this chapter wasn't gonna be that long? i lied. but i love y'all if that helps. also thx so much for 500 followers. that's unreal.

contains: arguing, general ranch activities, cussing, not really anything crazy, 2.6k words

“Rise and shine, city girl!”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I peel open my eyes and squint at the annoying figure in my doorway who’s flicking the lights on and off.

“Chris. Please fuck off.” I mumble, rolling over and yanking the covers over my head. I don’t even know what time it is but from the lack of sun pouring in through the curtains, I know it’s too damn early.

“C’mon now. Get up. You’re gonna wanna get a good breakfast in before we start.” He urges but I just reach out from under the blanket and shoo him away.

“Yes! I was hoping it would come to this.” Chris says, sounding way too excited for my liking. I scramble up in suspicion just in time to see him lifting a bucket of water over where my head was.

“Do it and die!” I yell and he grins in response, lowering the bucket.

“Thought you’d see it my way.” He pauses for a second squinting. “Are you wearing fuckin’ Gucci pjs?” He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Why don’t you mind the business that pays you?” I grumble, throwing my legs off the bed and into my house shoes so he will leave.

“Unfortunately, I am.” He deadpans. “Get dressed. And I swear before the lord, if I see anything designer, I’ma push you into the pig sty.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know!” I call before he can close the door. He looks over his shoulder, eyes catching on my fuzzy slippers before he answers.

“We’ll see.”

He clicks the door shut and I get out of bed, heading to my suitcase in a bit of a panic. I throw it open, hoping that I managed to pack at least one outfit that will work but cursing under my breath when I find I didn’t. I’m about to admit defeat, mourning my Rick Owens, when I turn and look at the duffle bag my dad handed me before we left home.

He’d placed it alongside my other luggage in the foyer and I’d been so angry at him I didn’t bother to ask what it was. I unzip it and sigh with relief when I find several sets of overalls, cheap denim, and basic tees. He even added a pair of the ugliest work boots I’ve ever seen. It makes my heart lurch to think of him being this thoughtful when he was so mad at me and I almost want to call him. Almost.

I mean he did ship me off to bum-fuck Louisiana. The least he could do is give me a wardrobe. I huff in renewed indignation before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

When I’m finally dressed, I head into the kitchen where my aunt and uncle are laughing with Chris at the table.

“Good morning,” I say quietly, heading over to where Aunt Birdie has left me a plate. Chris looks me up and down before shooting me a taunting thumbs up and I glare back.

“You excited for your first day, bunny?” My aunt asks, standing to collect my uncle and Chris’ plates. I give her a look over my fork full of eggs and she laughs. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

Uncle Buck cuts in with a curt laugh, grunting as he stands up. “Now don’t you go lyin’ to the girl.” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not to scare ya down the road or nothing, honey. But the first couple days are gonna be rough.” He claps a hand on Chris' shoulder, who’s been watching the interaction with a knowing smirk. “But I’m sure our boy here will take it easy on you today.”

“Of course I will.” Chris lies, nodding down at my plate. “But maybe you should eat up, darlin’. You might need it.”

***************

“Not like that!” Chris snaps, leaning over my head to run a calming hand over the cow I’m desperately trying to milk. “Don’t tug on her. Just squeeze. Firm but gentle.”

“Well, that’s how they do it in the cartoons so-” I cut myself off and roll my eyes as Chris gives me a look like I have two brain cells. “Why can’t you do it then? And I’ll watch.”

“Because then you won’t won’t learn… obviously.” He says, talking slowly as if I’m a toddler.

He walks around the front of the cow and nuzzles her nose. “Hey, Daisy girl. It’s okay. Sorry about her.”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” I ask as he comes back over and squats down next to me. Chris’ jaw drops and he blinks at me slowly.

“Holy shit. There’s no fuckin’ way-”

“Nevermind-”

“How the fuck would a male pro-”

“Let it go-”

“You think we’re out here milking a bull’s ball-”

“Chris! Just help me!” I cut in, frustration clear in my tone. He sighs and leans forward, readjusting my hand placement and showing me how to squeeze. When milk finally comes out, I squeal in excitement and look over at him. He meets my eye with an amused grin before his face drops and he pulls away.

He clears his throat and stands, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Yeah, just keep doing that. That’s good.” He comments as I continue following his guidance.

When the cow is all milked I stand, pouring my bucket into the larger one Chris points at and give him a cocky smile. “See. I’m not so stupid after all.”

He rolls his eyes and claps sarcastically. “Mhm. Great job.” He comes over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and turning me to the left. “Now for the other eight.”

I groan in defeat, leaning down to pick my bucket back up. Wonderful.

************

“Okay. For whatever reason, some of the hens don’t like to lay their eggs in the nesting box. We don’t sell those, we just keep them for ourselves and Birdie cooks with ‘em.” He hands me a plastic bucket half filled with hay. “Go walk around and find ‘em all.”

I smile despite myself at this. “Like Easter?”

Chris chuckles and dusts off his hands. “Sure, city girl. Like Easter.”

I roll my eyes as I start looking around the coop, spotting a few eggs in the corner. “Stop calling me city girl.”

“Oh, that’s right. You like bunny better, huh?” He teases, heading over to the nesting box and coaxing the hens out his way.

I toss a glare at his back as I continue my egg hunt. “Or you could just call me my damn name.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He walks over to me and holds up a cracked egg for me to see. “You ever get a defective one like that, you throw it out, you hear? I don’t wanna see it in my pile.”

I scoff at his bossy attitude and I throw him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, going back to the box. “Why do they call you that anyway? Bunny. Are you really as sweet as all that?”

“Try me and find out,” I reply, scooping up the last of the eggs. I turn and find Chris staring at me with his eyebrows raised, realizing my mistake. “I didn’t mean it like-”

He turns back to the box, cutting me off. “Nah. I think I’ma need to think of something new. Name you somethin’ that fits you better. Let me think.”

“Sure, bud,” I say, stepping closer to him as he explains the difference between the white and brown eggs.

************

“When do we get to go see the horses?” I ask as we load up the pickup truck with more food and water.

He looks over at me in surprise. “You a horse girl? Makes sense. Thought you were weird.”

I glare at him and he chuckles. “Shut up. I just liked to ride a bit when I used to come here.”

He nods and pulls up the tailgate. “It was somebody else’s day to fed ‘em.” He says before he notices the disappointment on my face. “But we can swing by. We’re going that way anyway.”

I give him a small grateful smile and he gestures for me to hop in the truck.

When we pull up to the stables, I’m almost overwhelmed by the memories that flood me. Me standing on a stool to brush my childhood horse, Pinkie Pie. My first time riding, my grandpa stuck like glue to the side of the horse and holding the reins.

I shake it off, not wanting to get emotional and head in behind Chris. He shows me around, pointing to a few of the horses and telling me their names before handing me some oat treats to feed them. I look around at their beautiful faces before I spot one that catches my attention.

She looks almost identical to Pinkie, with chestnut coloring that fades a bit darker around her neck and face. I walk up to her and extend my hand for her to eat from, keeping my palm flat.

“Hold on!” Chris starts but he drops his sentence as she gently begins to eat. I bring up my other hand and stroke her face gently.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

Chris walks up beside me, clearly dumbfounded. “I can’t believe she’s letting you feed her by hand let alone touch her. Cinnamon’s a mean ole girl. Ain’t that right.” He reaches over the fence and scratches her neck. “She only likes me and your uncle.”

I tut and Cinnamon nuzzles her face close to mine, dropping her ears and closing her eyes.

“Well, I guess she has a new favorite,” I say with satisfaction. I play with her for a few more minutes, giving her love and some more treats before I remember Chris is there.

He’s leaning against the fence staring at us with his arms crossed, a strange dopey look on his face. I raise my eyebrows at him and he clears his throat and pushes up.

“C’mon. Let’s get back to work.”

************

“Lift with your legs and your core, woman. You’re gonna throw your damn back out.” Chris nags as I attempt to pour the pig feed into their container.

“Well, you could be a manly man and lift it for me!” I say breathlessly, grunting with effort. He comes over and snatches the bag from me, lifting it like it was a stick of gum.

“What are you gonna do when I’m not with you?” He says when he’s done, dropping the bag between his feet.

“Oh, I get the feeling you’ll always be over my shoulder so I’m not worried,” I say looking down sadly at my ruined nails. Chris notices and taps his foot for my attention. He's got his evil ass smirk on when I look up at his face and I know I’m in trouble.

“Y’know. I was gonna wait till tomorrow but I reckon it’s about time to weigh a couple of the piglets.”

My eyes widen to saucers at the idea of picking one of those dirty things up. “Chris-”

“Why don’t you go grab us one, huh? Just swing over the fence.” He’s cheesing, seeming the most entertained I’ve seen him yet; and that’s saying something.

I stomp around to the front of the pin, not wanting to let him win. There’s no way I’m sliding over a fence and picking up a pig in the same breath so I unhook the gate and swing it open.

“Wait! Y/N! Don’t-” Chris calls out but it’s too late. A piglet jets his ass out the gate and takes off across the field. I cuss loudly then slam the gate shut before another one can Houdini their way out. Turning on my heel, I take off after the little pig, listening to the laughter of the other workers behind me.

He’s fast, I’ll give him that, and I chase him all the way to the horse stables. He runs in but gets spooked when they neigh and turns back allowing me to scoop him up. He squeals and squirms in protest but I hold on tight.

“Got you. You little trackstar.” I say, out of breath. I turn around and start to head back, stopping in my tracks when I see Chris coming around the corner with a cage.

He takes the piglet from me and I hunch over, trying to stabilize my breathing.

“Bet you listen to me, next time.” He says after he’s got Wilber Jr. secured. But I don’t respond. I just stay bent over exhausted, feeling tears pricking my eyes. Chris notices and comes over, placing a hand on my back and rubbing in circles.

“Hey. I think it’s time for a break. How’s lunch sound?”

*************

We sit on the bed of the truck eating the lunches Aunt Birdie packed for us quietly. I scrunch my nose up when I notice him sipping out of a Pepsi can.

“Does Coke not bother sending their product to this fuck ass state?” I say teasingly.

He screws his face up at me and shakes his head. “Not gonna lie. I’m not even surprised when you’re wrong anymore.”

I laugh lightly, taking another bite of my sandwich.

“So…” Chris starts, reaching back, tossing his trash in the bag. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about you, Scotch. Got any siblings?”

“Scotch?” I question, raising my eyebrow at the nickname.

“Yeah. Scotch. Cus people always like to say it has all this kick to it… but, uh, it goes down smoother than you’d think.” Chris maintains eye contact with me for a second and then looks away, stretching.

I smile to myself and clear my throat before answering. “Well… anyway. No to the sibling question. I always wanted one though.”

He snaps pointing at me like he’s having a breakthrough. “There it goes. You’re proving my only kid theory.”

I roll my eyes and push his shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”

He grins at me and cracks his fingers. “Okay give me some more. What else?”

“I’m from Los Ang-”

He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Duh. I asked about you. Not where you’re from.”

I furrow my brows in thought. Those two things have always been one and the same to me. “Um.. okay. Well, how about you go first? Do you just have your sister or are there more of you?” I shudder dramatically.

He raises a brow at the jab but answers anyway. “Just me and her. She’s my everything.” He smiles lightly and then nudges me with his shoulder. “You’re not off the hook. What do you wanna do when you grow up?” He asks, his tone taking on a mock childish quality. I laugh and rest my face on my cheek, thinking.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out but it’s hard,” I say, drumming my fingers against my face.

He scoffs and I look over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Nothin’. It’s just…I don’t get what’s hard about it.” He says simply.

I sit up, my guard snapping back into place. “I don’t understand what you don’t understand. I mean it’s the rest of my life we’re talking about.”

He rubs a hand over his face and shrugs. “I mean not really. If you don’t like it, you’ll just call up mommy and daddy to fix it for you.” I blink at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“No, you’re just being an fucking asshole. As usual.” I snap, sliding off the truck, and storming off toward the goats. I don’t know why his judgment is suddenly affecting me at all but it doesn’t matter. The quicker I get this day over, the quicker I can get away from Chris fucking Sturniolo.

🏷️@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable

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earthtooz · 1 year

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I NEED ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS, I BEG YOU 😭

·˚ ༘ ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS !

# warnings: gn!reader, fluff and a little hurt/comfort, mentions to arguments, somewhat suggestive but no nsfw, swearing, idk how many words this is but quite a bit LOL, unedited

# a/n: LUCKY FOR BOTH OF US THAT I JUST SO HAPPENED TO WANT ITOSHI RIN BF HEADCANONS TOO. ENJOY MY FRIEND.

no one knows how you two got into a relationship and to be honest, you don't really know either. like how did you bag itoshi mf rin 😨 the most unlikeable bitch anyone will ever meet in their life... (lovingly)

bachira asked you if you were okay the first time you met and rin immediately lunged at him. like, please stop babe, you're just proving meguru's point !

how you met and all is a story for another time <3 because holy fucking shit is it a long one.

but the point is, although rin takes a while to open up, he is an amazing boyfriend, despite what everyone believes :,)

claims that he needs an independent partner bc he needs his space from time to time and you were completely understanding, even agreeing that some privacy here and there is nice.

except as it turns out, rin is the most co-dependent partner there is 💀 it's no longer 'i' bc it is now 'we'! slay!

he literally needs you to go to the grocery store with him and expects you hold his hand the entire time too- literally.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

"you know how to buy your own green tea, why do i need to come with you?" you ask when rin pops his head into your study room where you were reading your book. "please?"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you accompany him (almost) every time. if you're out he even waits for you to get home just so you can go with him like boy wtf...

well his love language is quality time saur.

expresses his love through gifts and acts of service as well. all of the gifts he buys for you are genuinely so well thought-out, like you almost tear up at all of them. one of them was a teddy bear that said 'you're better than mediocre.' and you almost cried 🗣🗣 okay but fr, he got you an anniversary gift of all his favourite moments with you, adding spotify bar codes to the pictures. there were photos from before u even dated like rin 😭😭😭😭 he is so babygirl pls take care of him.

on that note, i headcanon that rin has decent music taste. he listens to rock and alt, even anime soundtracks 🤣 but bc he's fluent in english, i bet he listens to arctic monkeys and the neighbourhood on REPEAT 🔁

wait yeah lover of music, it just makes sense for him to have a collection of headphones in his room. he likes to make you playlists too :( rinnie :( for me???

(rin also has a love language of offering you the first bite of food. you're sharing ice cream? here, have the first spoon. wanna try some of rin's lunch? he's already offering it. the smoothie he's having sounds good? he's already pushing it towards you.)

ALSO ☝️ BC THIS FUCKER LOVES HORROR, IT'S SOMETIMES TO A POINT THAT IT GETS YOU KINDA SCARED FOR YOUR LIFE... HOW IS HE SO IMMUNE TO ALL THE BLOOD... AND VIOLENCE...

he's SICK for this. you never let him pick the movies whenever you want to watch something.

also like it's a good enough reason to not get on his bad side. mans probably has 100 ways to k*ll shidou and get away with it.

anyways, rin would probably be hesitant to let you meet his family (read: sae). he's not ashamed of you, he's ashamed of sae.

so when his family demands to meet you, rin finally caves, agreeing to a dinner back home. only to find out he had nothing to worry about. his mother and father love you, saying how you were so beautiful the whole dinner, and how lucky rin was to have you. they even brought up the topic of marriage and you and rin kinda just sat there like 😐😁 smile and wave... smile and wave...

internally though, rin was over the moon knowing that you're accepted by his family. he loves his mum and dad, and although his relationship with sae is rocky with no smooth waves in sight, his opinion is... 'appreciated'.

best part was that his mother then turned to sae and went 'when are you going to get a partner as well?' and rin SENT HIM THE MOST SHIT-EATING GRIN EVER LMFAOOOOOOO

they got into a fight whilst cleaning the dishes that night.

rin then takes u home and pampers u, still high from the happiness that seeing u with his family brought 😇

WAIT ALSO - YOU TWO DEFINITELY SHOWED UP TO THE DINNER WITH MATCHING FITS >:o

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN'S WARDROBE LIKE DAMN SHAWTY... LET ME HIT... so he'll 100% shop for you too.

in fact, he's the best boyfie to take shopping, he'll be like 'no that's not your colour, but the fit is nice' or be like 'you might need a different size. this one isn't right' - you trust his judgment way more than your friends.

when you are out with your friends shopping, you'll send rin photos for his opinions and he never misses 💯 drops whatever he's doing to respond bc he's gotta make sure his pretty lover has the best wardrobe!!

rin loves paying for your shopping sprees too. no matter how much you try to wrestle him for who pays, he will always win. you make it even though by paying for your meals that day (the difference in how much money is spent on clothes and food will never compare, but it makes you feel a little less guilty so rin indulges you).

also attentive af. knows your tastes in almost everything, memorised your little habits and how you like certain things done. very dedicated bf once you realise just how much he loves doing things for you.

i just had this thought:

you know how couples post on tiktok all the time? well, you thought it would be nice if you could participate in one trend with rin.

you just thought it'd be a small post to share with your friends but instead, you seemed to forget to turn on the 'only friends can view option', it blew the FUCK up - like ofc it would, that's itoshi mf rin... but the comments were all like 'why are you with him', or 'dump him... you're too hot for him...', or 'you can do sooo much better than him'.

look, no matter how sensible rin is, he's not immune to drama and this bitch will not settle for when people tell him he doesn't deserve you like did YOU GO THROUGH TWO YEARS OF PINING??? I DON'T THINK SO. SIT THE FUCK DOWN.

so he's on your account, picks the comment 'i could treat you better than him', films himself giving the commenter the middle finger before you pull him in by the collar to give him a big ol kiss, cutting the video at the exact time that you both stumble out of frame.

look, it's not the most optimal way to fight back against the haters 🙄 but he doesn't need to prove nothing, not like anyone else gets you all to themselves.

oh this man has a banger social media presence, on his main AND on his private accounts.

he prefers posting on the priv bc there he can freely show u off and be more authentic.

itoshirinpriv I love when Y/n wears the things I buy them

─ megurusundercover when will u buy me things rinnie </3

╰┈➤ itoshirinpriv Choke and die

╰┈➤ megurusundercover kinky ;)

─ isagi11 Hi @y/n !

╰┈➤ y/n HI YOICHI !!!!

LOVES A SUPPORTIVE S/O, EVEN IF HE DOESN'T LET IT SHOW!!! WEAR HIS JERSEY AT A MATCH AND CHEER FOR HIM AND YOU HAVE HIS HEART !!! RECORD HIS MATCHES FOR HIM AND WATCH THEM WITH HIM AND HE'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER !!!!! he doesn't ask for much, just a little appreciation back :<

also don't try to compete against rin in anything unless you have guaranteed victory bc this mf is competitive AF.

will spare you on some occasions but more often than not, will give 100% into everything.

you use this to your advantage like 'hey babe, wanna see who can clean more of the house in one hour?' and HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY EVERY TIME. to be fair, so do you because like you want a clean house, but rin is SO speedy when there's a challenge involved.

easy defeat every time but you can't be mad.

hc that rin can't cook for shit. so you'll have to be there with him or just ban him from the kitchen straight up.

you taught him how to make microwave popcorn and that's about the only thing he is permitted to make.

even his diet-regulated smoothies are all made by you because holy fuck he somehow always messes up the recipe despite it being really clear and concise.

also you steer clear from him when he's working out because he just looks TOO GOOD working out that i makes you feel a little funny and pathetic 😇

if you are someone who does enjoy exercise, rin would love to take this chance to spend some more time together. you could be doing a pilates workout and rin is in the corner lifting weights, glancing over to you ever so often, sending him winks when you catch him.

loves going on hikes with you, no matter the difficulty, how steep or flat, he just really likes being active and if you join him, he'll be SO happy.

also u know how he loves yoga and meditation? if hiit and sweat-inducing workouts aren't for you, he likes stretching with you and teaching you breathing exercises that help throughout the day.

100/10 MASSEUSE BTW !!!! 👍👍👍👍

ofc, relationships aren't always perfect and especially when dealing with rin, someone who has quite a fair bit of trauma from being abandoned and left behind, it only worsens the tension.

believes you're going to leave him every time </3 like no :( just bc you're mad at him doesn't mean you've stopped loving him.

communication is so important. rin has a tendency to catastrophize a lot so please, put your pride aside and talk to him! reassure him! spend some time with him! that's how post-arguments usually go.

then you'll talk it out calmly, expressing both of your perspectives, apologising for breaking boundaries and trying to adapt accordingly.

this routine is a delicate one and it took months of putting aside your immaturity in order to grow together. especially rin who is so full of pride, but when he realised that his stubbornness wasn't winning him anything, he shattered his hardened perception of self and let you in.

"rin?" you whisper, poking your head into your shared bedroom delicately, afraid to upset the beast sleeping in there even more.

"what," he snaps, sitting on his side of bed in a hunched over position. he hugs his legs close to his body and the sight breaks your heart a little.

"i'm watching 'the shining', you can join me if you'd like to."

he grumbles something inaudible before you close the door quietly, hoping he'd cave because you chose this movie just so he'd come around. it's his favourite after all.

setting out a bowl of popcorn and some beverages of choice, you just manage to get the movie up when rin emerges from the bedroom, all gloomy and moody. he plops down on the opposite side of the couch, chin on his hand.

he's pretending like you don't exist which is fine by you, you know he'll cave eventually. so, you slide a cup of water and the bowl of popcorn to him and settle in, pressing 'play'.

around 15 minutes in or so, you're too engrossed in the movie to hear rin's quiet shuffling, and how he's now crossed the distance to sit next to you. his hand comes up to your shoulder to get your attention and when he has it, rin's quick to manoeuvre you so that you were now lying down on the couch.

he then plops down, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your chest.

"i'm sorry," whispers the striker. such simple words with such heavy meaning, especially coming from him.

you know he wants to say more, but you know better than he can't get it out, so, you begin threading your fingers through his hair, just how he likes it. rin softens completely against you.

"it's okay," you reassure.

"you're too good for me."

the next morning there's a bouquet of flowers and dessert from your favourite bakery on the kitchen counter.

rin wakes up at a reasonable hour. he likes to start off his days between 8 to 9 am, with 9-10 hours of sleep.

your sleep cycle has been synced with his because he hates sleeping without you beside him.

unless you have a good reason to push back sleep, he will not stand for it. stop depriving yourself of sleep and give your body the rest it deserves!!!!!

has a set night routine with you.

also i'm sorry but rin loves making out + neck and hand kisses are his favourite to give to you + he loves receiving temple and lip kisses.

goes to parties and clubs but very reluctantly. he doesn't like to drink, especially during soccer season, so there's not a lot of joy he can find in going out, except when he gets to eye you up and down all night and have fun with you AYEEEE 🕺😩

'you can wear whatever u want, i can fight' bf.

one thing you learn abt this man overtime is that he truly does not care how you dress. even tho it seems like he's judging you, he loves everything you wear and will admire you appreciatively 24/7.

#hope u enjoyed !#quite self indulgent but i can't help it T^T #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #rin fluff #itoshi rin drabble

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igotanidea · 11 months

Text

Father's day present : dad!Jason Todd x mum!reader

I'm so in love with this graphic UwU.

Requested by @parkjammys: sweet Jason fluff of him and his girls celebrating his first Father's Day, and although his baby girl is only a like year old she just knows her mum is giving dad kisses and copies her. (hope this will lift your spirits a bit, candice :) )

This is just purest form of fluff. Get your tissues ready.

***

„Who’s my little sunshine?” Y/N cooed standing above the cradle watching her 1 year old daughter with a bright smile and yet, slightly wet eyes.

God!

If a year ago someone told her, that despite all the vigilantism she will have a kid with Jason, she would simply laugh at that person face.

But now? Now, she was the happiest woman on earth. She had an amazing partner and a child, both of whom she loved with all her heart. And it was even better since it was fully reciprocated.

“Gagagaga” d/n babbled, putting her little fingers in her mouth, laughing at her mother’s funny face, looking just so adorable.

“Oh, my little one” Y/N reached inside and her daughter immediately extended her tiny arms, ready to be lifted and hugged. “Who’s mummy’s daughter?” Y/N rubbed d/n nose, getting another giggle “You are. Yes, you are. Oh, I love you so much, peanut” the girl kissed the top of her daughter head, rubbing her back and holding her tightly to her chest. “And your daddy loves you too. And why we speak of your dad, we have a very special day today, you know….”

“Dada, dada, dada…..”

“Yes, honey. Dada. That’s right.” Y/N sighed “It’s Jay’s first father’s day and we are both going to make sure it’s special for him. God knows, how much he had to go through to get just a bit of happiness with us.”

“Dada!” d/n crowed again, squirming in her mother’s arm as apparently she saw something behind. At first, Y/N got scared that some assassin broke into the house and were to attack, hurt or kidnap them both, giving Jace another trauma instead of a happy father’s day (can you blame her considering the past experience?), but it was just the talk of the devil.

“Well, hello to you two my lovely daughter and her equally lovely mother.” Jason smiled brightly, closing the door behind him.

“Hi, honey.” Y/N whispered taking a moment to appreciate him being safe and healthy, not bruised, bloodied, scared or bleeding. Despite the fact that he didn’t fully give up on his vigilantism, he was far more careful during patrols. He knew what he had to loose. And that little moments, where they could just be a normal family, laughing and spending time together were everything for Y/N.

“How was my troublemaker today?” Jason took a step forward, leaning over and pecking Y/N’s forehead “did you get some time for yourself?”

“Just a bit. But you know, d/n is definitely father’s daughter” Y/N let out a chuckle “quicksilver. Gotta keep an eye on her cause otherwise….”

“Oh, I know what can happen. Do you need rest, love?”

“No, not really” the girl shook her head “I rest best knowing I have you two with me. But. Since it’s your celebration, we got a little gift for you. Can you take her so I can bring it?” Y/N handed the daughter to Jace who grabbed her tightly and did a little helicopter in the air, making funny sounds and entertaining his little girl. And to think that he was the one worried he would be a bad father.

He was the best.

“Wait, you said my celebration?” he frowned a bit, confused “it’s not my birthday or anything like that so what….?

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you forgot” Y/N yelled from the other room and soon came back holding a small paper bag “It’s father’s day, obviously.”

“Oh.” Jason’s eyes grew wide. His very first father’s day. The second that thought hit him, his eyes watered a bit. There was still this little, vicious voice inside, that sometimes told him that he did not deserve any of this. That after everything he did, he should not ever interfere with anyone’s life. That no matter how hard he would try, one or both of his girl will end up getting hurt because of him.

“Jace….” Y/N quickly approached him, cupping his cheek, recognizing all the signs of his doubts and memories and impending mental breakdown “Jason, baby, look at me.” He listened, his eyes focusing on her pretty face “I love you.” she simply said “your daughter loves you. We need you, baby. The past is in the past, what you did or who you were does not define you, you hear me? That was not you.”

“thank you….” he whispered “it’s just…. a lot.”

“I know, love, but you are not alone. Hell, you should know by now you will never be. You got us. You got family, Jason.”

“I love you both.”

“We know.” Y/n smiled and stood on her tiptoes, capturing Jason’s lips in hers quickly, pulling away way too soon for his liking. So taking the initiative, adjusting his grip on his daughter, he wrapped his other hand around the mother, pulling her back.

“I’m not done with you.” he mumbled, leaning forehead on hers.

“Really?” Y/N smiled, pecking his right cheek and then left and then his nose, giggling.

“Still not enough.” he connected their mouths again, kissing her with all the love and passion he felt. Jason was not good with words, especially with the big ones, but his actions and his gestures were the best expression of them and Y/N learned that through the years they were together.

“Jason!” the girl squealed and pulled away the second she felt his hand sneak under her T-shirt “Not in front of our daughter! And not now!”

“Later than?” his eyes became a bit darker as he watched the blush creeping on Y/N’s cheek. At this point answer wasn’t even necessary. “Besides.” He continued as d/n started wriggling a bit “I don’t think our grig mind us being all touchy-feely towards each other.”

“What do you…?” Y/N started, but as her gaze landed on her daughter she couldn’t hold back a laugh. D/N put her little arms on Jason’s shoulder for some balance as she leaned forward pressing her little, soft lips against his cheek leaving a wet mark. And then she giggled and repeated the action two more times.

“mamamamama”

“Oh yes, that’s right. That’s what mummy does to make daddy feel better” Jason whispered, heart clenched with all the feelings “guess she got her observational skills and intelligence from you, Y/N. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making this the best father’s day I could ever imagine.”

“You didn’t even open your present yet…..” Y/N pointed out.

“You both are my presents. I just want to be with you and hold you. Is that ok?” he whispered.

“Sure, Jason. As long as you want.”

“Perfect.” He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, minds wandering in some places only he knew. “But I still get to open that bag, right?” it only took him a minute to get back to his smug attitude he didn’t lose during the years.

“Sure, babe. We definitely have a no return policy when it comes to any present.”

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adventuringblind · 8 months

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 6.1: some chaotic group texts

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: just some group texts between the quartet

Warnings: sexual innuendo, mentions of the Daniel incident, Max being a dad, Lando being a menace, reader is gullible, Charles is a clutz

Notes: I felt the need to show you the chaos I have going in my notes and writing software for these four

Previous <-

Masterlist

Lando: so what's the plan for tonight?

Charles: Max won so its up to him

Lando: but like... I could not do what he says 😈

Y/N: ah yes I love watching Lando suffer

Lando: hey! You're just no fun!

Y/N: i am fun and also do what I'm told. I think Charles would agree with me 👀

Charles: yes, but it's also fun to watch as Lando begs for mercy.

Maxy: and here I thought we could have a soft night

Lando: absolutely not

Lando: I woke up a menace to society, and I plan on ending the day that way

Charles: Lando no

Y/N: Lando no

Lando: Lando yes

Lando corrupts y/n

Maxy: Lando, I swear on everything that if I find you starting before me and Charles get there, I will not let you finish for a year.

Lando: guess who's here with me

Lando: *image*

Charles: At least she's waiting like we asked

Lando: unless 👀

Y/N: I tried to tell him

Charles: Lando, I will not hesitate

Lando: ha! Look at the perfect angel now! *video*

Maxy: I'm stunned

Maxy: I swear I will have both of you crying by the end of tonight

Y/N: I'm sorry! Lando started talking, and my head just did what he said :(

Charles: sounds about right

Lando: *video*

Maxy: how the fuck are you even recording this??

Lando: skills.

Charles: you're corrupting the innocent!! Leave the angel alone!!

Max being a dad

Maxy: what time is everyone planning on being home? I have dinner on the stove

Y/N: I am home. I have no friend remeber?

Maxy: is my company nit enough for you? 🫢

Y/N: You sound like Seb rn

Lando: after Jon let's me live in peace

Maxy: work hard Lan! You'll make it!

Lando: Did you wake up okay? Are you sick? When did you become a father?

Maxy: why are you being so mean?

Charles: I won't be there for dinner, my mother is feeding me tonight

Y/N: awe! That's so sweet!

Maxy: be safe!

Charles: 😶

Lando: 😶

Y/N: Sometimes he's dad, but most of the times, he's daddy

Y/N becomes an avenger

Y/N: I have decided to learn martial arts

Lando: intresting. Why?

Y/N: because all the avengers know martial arts and I'm already halfway there

Charles: anyone sometimes forget that y/ns powers aren't normal?

Charles: like we're litteraly dating a superhero

Maxy: just be glad you weren't there when she learned she could use it on people

Maxy: I scared her so bad she accidentally threw me across the paddock the first race back from break

Maxy: I'm sad to say I was turned on from it

Lando: does this mean you'll be fighting crime?

Y/N: Does crippling depression count as a crime? If so, then yes

Y/N does some research

Y/N: did you guys know this is a thing???

Y/N: *link*

Charles: alright whoever gave her access to Google (lando) I promise I won't be mad if you confess

Lando: why do you think it's me?

Charles: because of what that link it

Max: who told you about this y/n?!

Y/N: it was Carlos, actually. He mentioned it and I was confused sk I asked what it meant and he said to Google it

Charles: I will be having words woth my teammate

Y/N: he said it's where people share ideas about what they do in the bedroom

Lando: honey... no

Max: Sometimes, I forget you are still gullible

Lando: on the other side... any intresting finds 🤔

Y/N: now I'm confused

Lando: nothing new

Charles: Lando be nice, the poor girl was just told about this

Charles: I asked Carlos what he said

Charles: did you really not know the females can do this?

Y/N: No? It's not like anyone has ever sat me down and explained every atmomical function of my body, and this one just sounds weird

Max: Anyone down for further research? 🤚🏻

Charles: Obviously, we can't let this opportunity go to waste

Lando: maybe we can convince her of other things while we're at it

Y/N: you're so mean to me

Post Daniel incident

Lando: You should have seen Daniel during interviews today!

Lando: he's an absolute disaster!

Charles: what a pervert

Max: Please tell me he's not making eyes at you

Y/N: Doesn't he have eyes? Why would he need to make them?

Max: I'll explain that one later

Lando: No, he's not. Don't worry, your pretty little heads

Lando: he's been blushing at every question that involves us

Y/N: as partners?

Lando: everything.

Lando: "what do you think of the grid quartet? Are you all still close friends?"

Lando: his response was between yes and no, and he couldn't make eye contact with the interviewer

Max: I think we did a number on him

Charles: a well deserved number might I add

Max: we're never doing that again though

Y/N: omg! I tried to go say hi, and a reporter spotted us and came to ask a question but turned around after he heard Daniel apologize for my throat for the millionth time 🤭

Lando: man can't win today

Charles: I'm glad he apologized

Max: I'm glad he's finally stopped trying to take pictures of us

Max: If he ever does it again, I'm running him off the track and into the wall

Charles the uncordinated

Lando: Has anyone seen Charles? I made dinner for us and can't find him.

Max: You know me and y/n are in a meeting rn right?

Lando: yes but I'm worried

Y/N: Can't we see each ithers location?

Lando: ...

Lando: Why is he at the park?

Charles: I went for a run, remember?

Lando: that was two hours ago, mate

Charles: ... it's been a long run

Max: is everything okay Charlie?

Y/N: Did you sprain it?

Lando: Sprain what??

Charles: :/

Charles: traitor

Y/N: I had a vision that he fell while out on his run and told him to be careful around the curbs

Y/N: it looked pretty bad. Do you need us to go get you, love?

Max: The answer is yes. We're on our way to get you.

Charles: I can get home myself

Charles: is Lando upset? The radio silence from him is killing me

Charles: nvm he's running at me in his bright orange McLaren sweatshirt

Charles: he's holding a first aid kit

Lando: WEEWOOWEEWOOWEEWOO

Lando: no need to worry, the doctor is in ;)

Charles: Someone save me

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @jjsprobablywrong

@chanshintien

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padfootdaredmetoo · 3 months

Note

Can you do a part 3 of spellbound I would love to see a tommy shelby talks with luscious malfoy at diagon alley and what are his thoughts on dracos dad on talking bad about hermione's parents who are muggles

Hey Anon,

Embarrassed at how long this took as usual please know how sorry I am. I love that you enjoyed this series because I LOVE writing it. Hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: General Peaky themes, Harry gets scared of Tommy at one point sort of,

Harry had always tried to make his parents, all 6 of them, proud. A task he was never really sure he did well. The more he moved through the wizarding world the more he felt an appreciation for his mostly muggle upbringing. The magical world was a wonderful place with possibilities and friends, but it had a dark underbelly that Harry couldn't shake off.

After the final events of his first year, his family almost didn't want him to return to Hogwarts. It was an odd conflict as both Tommy and Sirius had sided with him insisting he go back. Harry hated the pain in your eyes or the fear that Remus felt for him, but deep down Harry knew that Tommy and Sirius were right, the wizarding world was stirring and he needed to be ready. Big and darker changes were swirling through the air in small little ways that to the untrained eye would have been missed. People called them paranoid, but Harry wasn't sure that the war ever ended for Tommy or Sirius. They wanted him trained and well-studied.

This year Tommy was going to accompany them to Diagon Alley. Harry hoped it would be to spend more time with him, but he could tell he didn't like you or Harry going anywhere near the magical community without him. Heck, he even came to dinner at The Burrow just to get a feel for the Weasley family before letting Harry stay for a week during the summer. Harry watched Tommy’s face take in all the strange differences that the shops had and wondered what he would think of Hermione. Tommy kept his face straight as he normally did in public. He was outnumbered and completely at a loss without magic, and yet people would move out of his way as if he was a powerful Wizard.

You gestured towards Flourish and Bolts and Tommy pushed open the door for the two of you. The place was crowded with families and students. You let go of Tommy’s hand saying you would track down Harry’s school books and moved towards the staircase.

“Going to take ages to get her out of here,” Tommy said with a sigh as he looked around the shop. High vaulted ceilings with endless shelves of books. Tommy hated shopping but Harry knew he would be patient with you.

“Maybe she’ll find something to keep her mind off me going back.” Harry said absently as his focus moved to the gathering group of women at the back of the shop.

“I doubt there is a book that entertaining-” His eyes moved toward the group and they decided to move closer. A man with golden hair and pearly white teeth flashed them a salesman's smile. The girls audibly swooned and Harry let out a deep-bellied laugh. Tommy smiled at the sound before the man’s eyes flashed with recognition.

“My God it’s Harry Potter!” The crowd turned to Harry and he felt Tommy’s hand land on his left shoulder. He was immediately uncomfortable but steadied by Tommy’s presence. Mrs. Weasley came forward and grabbed his arm pulling him up towards the man as he called for Harry to join him. Harry’s eyes never left the comfort of Tommy’s face. His face would never reveal it but Harry could see there was a spark of humor in his blue eyes. It was over before Harry knew it, shake of hands and cameras flashing. He got awarded a signed collection of Lockhart's book collection and quickly insisted that Molly keep it.

“Don’t be ridiculous dear.” She waved him off.

“Remus already has a set at home I -” Harry pleaded, he really wanted her to have them. They were fancy with gold-lined pages and everything

“It’s true we have a set at home collecting dust, I insist Molly. As a thank you for having Harry this summer.” Tommy flashed her a smile and she accepted the books.

“No need to thank me, always happy to have your family around Thomas.” She gave him a big smile. Harry wondered if he would ever be able to make people do stuff that easily. “You’ll need your set for school this year!” She said with an excited wink. Harry found Ron’s face and they both resisted the urge to start laughing again.

Harry and Ron hugged. Tommy gave them a moment but stayed close by examining a stack of clear crystal bookmarks that would read out whatever words you placed it over.

“It’s true though, he’s this year's defense teacher.” Ron made a retching face and Harry let out another loud laugh.

“Hope we don't need defensive magic this year then,” Harry said half joking.

“That’s what I’m here for anyway.” A voice mumbled as bushy brown hair came into view. She gave him a big hug and Harry’s face flushed as Tommy took that moment to look over his shoulder at Harry. He raised his eyebrows before turning back towards the bookmarks.

“Hi Harry!” Ginny said stepping out from behind Hermione. He wasn’t entirely sure how on how to greet her but gave her a hug as well. Her face turned beet red and she stepped closer to Hermione. He was wondering if he had offended her but Hermione had already moved his attention and started to introduce her parents to them. Harry then pulled Tommy back into the conversation. They shook hands and Harry could tell they felt relieved to meet another muggle parent.

The three of them started to talk about the rest of the summer they had left out of their letters. Hermione had spent the summer in France and was sad she missed out on the week the boys had at the Burrow.

Naturally, Harry noticed when the Malfoy family entered the shop. His scar prickled when Malfoy took a step closer to Ginny who was flipping through a book near the entrance. Harry’s first move was to run in head first but Tommy caught his shoulder and squeezed it telling him to stay put.

“Ron.” Harry said and nodded towards Ginny.

“Oi, Ginny!” Ron motioned for her to come back towards the group and she did giving Malfoy a hard stare as she passed by. Just then you had reached the bottom landing of the staircase. Your dress twirled around you as you moved around the bend to the final set of steps.

Malfoy reached his hand out to you and said something that made your face fall as if he was a stain on a new dress or a fire burning in a meadow. You rejected his hand.

Tommy kept his place with his hand still firmly on Harry’s shoulder. Words were exchanged and Malfoy’s eyes darted to land on Tommy’s. Much like that first night at Hogwarts, they continued to stare at each other till Lucious backed down. You said something to him and his hand grabbed Draco and they left.

You came and took your place at Tommy’s side.

“What did he want?” Ron asked bluntly.

“Ah, just the usual creepy bad guy stuff.” You said lightly but Harry didn't miss the look that had passed between you and Tommy.

“Typical,” Ron said rolling his eyes.

The day carried on without a hitch. Harry watched Tommy navigate the crowd of parents and kids with a cautious eye. Whatever happened there he wanted to know about it but he knew better than to ask in a crowded place.

He hugged his friends good bye knowing they would see eachohter in less than a week.

Once in the car he started on about it.

“Look Malfoy is rotten I know he is, anything he said to you could be -” Harry started.

“What is everyone’s obsession with this bloke?” Tommy said lighting a cigarette. You rolled down your window slightly and sighed.

“He’d asked me to dinner actually.” Tommy hit the breaks so hard the only reason harry didn't fly into the windshield is because Tommy had stuck his hand out catching the boy.

“He did what.” Tommy’s voice had a dark sort of venom in it that Harry had never heard before. He knew Tommy wouldn't hurt him but his body still tensed up with fear.

“Let’s discuss it at home. Please.” You said with an edge to your tone. Tommy gave you one last look before driving very fast. He tore up the gravel in front of the house and slammed the car door. Harry felt a weird sort of feeling rise up in him. He followed you out of the car and into Tommy’s study.

Remus wondered in with a piece of toast in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Sirius was close behind.

“What did you get then!’ He asked excitedly, oblivious to the icy texture of the room. Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What exactly did he say?” Tommy said his voice still scary. Harry stepped infront of you and you placed a hair on his head paying no attention to the gesture.

“He asked if I would fancy coming around for dinner sometime.”

“Who did?”

“Malfoy.” Tommy almost growled the man’s name.

“Fuck” Sirius said and he let out a sigh.

“Means that they are probably recruiting again.” You said softly with sadness in your voice.

“Why on earth would they ask you to join.” Remus said abandoning his toast on the side table beside the couch.

“They pestered her non-stop in school Remus, you know why they want her to join. He was just letting you know there’s more of this - fucking rubbish to come.” Sirius was just as angry as Tommy now and Harry didn't know why but he hated it. He wanted this to be a fun day with his parents. Guilt hit his stomach at his own thought. With his adoptive parents, he corrected himself. The tone of their voice, and the way they were standing made him feel like he needed to protect you from them. Anger swelled in his stomach and he felt sick with it.

“Stop.” He said firmly. Sirius started up again and Harry shouted. “STOP. JUST - FUCKING STOP.” His voice shook and he hated how shaky he felt. The room fell silent and he didn't know what to do so he ran. Up the stairs and into his room. He slammed the door. This stupid war ate up so much of everyone's time and headspace. War had caused so much damage to his family to Tommy to Sirius especially.

Their anger made him so frustrated but he still couldn't place why. The way Tommy’s voice was in the car towards you, it just made him sick. A knock landed on the door before Tommy’s entered Harry’s space. He wanted to fight him and he still didn't know why.

Tommy just sat on the end of his bed looking very out of place with his going-out clothes still on. Harry hated being studied so he broke the silence first.

“It’s not her fault.” His voice picked up. “That - creep - was bothering her. It’s not her fault -”

“I don’t blame her for anything,” Tommy said carefully his eyes wandering across Harry’s face.

“Then why did you shout at her like that.” The words were hard for him to get out. Tommy kept looking at him for a long moment.

“Harry. You know I would never let anything bad happen, that includes myself.” Harry thought about his words for a moment before relaxing slightly. “I have a temper, but it’s never directed at her. She’s been through enough in this life and I know more than anyone what happens when you shout at her.” Harry moved to sit next to him.

“What happens” Harry asked and Tommy patted him on the back.

“Bad stuff. The dining room burnt down twice in one year.” He took a long drag of his cigarette. Harry smiled.

“Your voice was just so - I haven't heard you speak to us like that before,” Harry said.

“That prick asked my wife out. How else am I supposed to act? If you weren't in the car I would have gone over there and -”

“And what?” Harry said wishing Tommy had magical abilities.

“There are lots of ways to hurt people that don’t involve magic, Harry.” Tommy gave him a serious look.

“You know he goes on about Hermione and her parents all the time. Calling them all sorts of awful things.” Harry’s stomach twists and he knows that every chance he gets he stands up for her but it never seems like enough. Tommy let out a small laugh taking Harry off guard.

“I don’t know how this will come to a head, but when it does. I’ll be the one to kill him.” Tommy took another drag of his cigarette. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

Harry could feel you fussing over him the rest of the night. Trying to reassure Harry that Tommy wasn't going to kill anyone and that they will pray for Malfoy’s family that they find the light. That Tommy would never hurt her, she’s used to his temper, and even when it was directed at her that she can handle him perfectly fine.

Harry took comfort in knowing that it was true. He could also tell that you liked having a husband who would kill someone for asking you out to join their creepy cult.

Harry was a week into his second year when the news hit. The Daily Prophet was swimming with articles stating new evidence had been uncovered that linked Malfoy to being a Death Eater. He would be going back on trial and has currently lost all connection and ties with the ministry. Other hateful statements about wanting to purify the wizarding world had also come to the surface. The article was written by a woman named Rita and Harry was sure Remus had mentioned her at one point. The article was 3 full pages with images of Malfoy and his wife being rushed out of their estate by ministry officials.

Harry let out a laugh thinking back to Tommy saying there were lots of ways to hurt someone.

Of course, it only took another week for the attacks to start happening and the year took its usual chaotic turn.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter cross over

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when-hyperfocus-hits · 9 months

Text

This short story is inspired by @puhpandas ! I thought it was a headcanon that had a lot of room for ✨ angst ✨ so I wrote a little something… enjoy!

Original Post

—

“I don’t get it, Cassie. Why did you go out of your way… to save him?”

“He’s my best friend… We’ve been friends ever since my birthday party… And I always felt bad he never had a house of his own… He was lonely. And he must feel even more lonely now.”

Roxy tilts her head at me, and even though I can’t tell her expression, her small hum makes me believe that she’s at least trying to understand.

I explain further, “My Dad didn’t know Gregory didn’t have a place to say. Gregory said not to tell him. He made me promise, even though he comes to our house when it’s thunderstorming and he needs shelter. I didn’t know what to tell my Dad when he asked about it.”

Roxy appears to be thinking. “Well… what happened?” She sounds actually a bit curious.

I get lost in my thoughts. He visited our house almost every day after my dad got off work. My dad didn’t think anything of it at first… but when Gregory started staying late nights, my dad started getting suspicious something was going on… but I couldn’t tell him.

One night, it was stormy out, one of those really bad storms that rattle houses and light up the whole sky with white bolts of lightning. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and how the wind could blow his tiny shelter away, or how the thunder scared him, or…

But a knock at my window interrupts my thoughts. I already know who it is; he always comes over when it gets that bad.

“Gregory…!” I don’t waste any time getting up and opening the window for him. “You’re soaked! Why didn’t you come sooner—?”

He waves me off, stepping inside on a towel that’s always there that I keep just in case.

I figure he doesn’t want to talk about it now. “Want dry clothes?” I turn around, getting some clothes from my drawer that I keep for him when this happens, but when I turn back, Gregory is kneeling, curled up on the towel on the ground.

“New clothes?” I hand them to him.

“Thanks,” He mutters, looking up at me.

I cautiously try to bring up the subject again. “I didn’t see you at the pizzaplex today… what happened?” When he doesn’t answer right away, I add, “I missed you.”

He sighs. “…I got in trouble again. They almost got me this time.”

I look away. “If… you stayed with us… you wouldn’t have to keep sneaking in for stuff—“

“Cassie…” He groans and curls up again. “I told you, I can’t.” He mutters.

“You can’t keep… hiding. We can help you…”

“Can we not talk about this??” He snaps, but immediately lowers his tone when he says, “Please?”

I don’t answer, pacing around my room a bit before asking, “So you didn’t eat today?”

“Just some snacks,” He says simply.

Despite how tense it feels to talk right now, I ask, “Are you hungry….?”

“I don’t want to take your food…”

“No, no, we have leftovers. My dad made pasta tonight.”

“At least it’s better than dumpster pizza,” He chuckles, but stops when he sees I don’t find it as funny as he does. “Yeah, pasta is fine…” He adds quietly.

“My dad is probably still awake but hopefully he’ll be in his room or something…”

He just silently follows me downstairs, eyes fixed at the ground.

“Cassandra, what are you doing up this late—?”

My dad’s voice makes both of us jump.

“And— Gregory, what are you doing here?”

“He didn’t feel safe at his house—!” I butt in without thinking.

Gregory shoots me a look, and I already know I’ve messed up.

“Why?” My dad’s eyebrows furrow deeply into that line in between his eyebrows.

“I… I don’t necessarily feel unsafe…” Gregory starts but my dad isn’t finished.

“You’ve been coming over a lot here lately, Greg. Not that you’re bad company— quite the opposite— It’s just I’m worried about you. If your family is treating you badly—“

“No! No… I’m okay.”

My dad’s brows remain furrowed but he backs off. “Okay. If you ever need anything—“

“He’s hungry,” I jump in to end the conversation before it escalates.

My dad seems to buffer for a moment. “Right… Food. We have pasta.”

“Yep, I know.” Gregory flashes him a tight smile.

My dad eventually gives us our servings of fettuccine alfredo, saving the smallest serving for himself. But when Gregory and I go back upstairs, Gregory can’t seem to bring himself to eat. He just stares at the ground, almost completely lost in thought.

“Gregory….?”

It’s too dark to see at first, but when he starts to shake, I realize.

“Greg, don’t— don’t cry… Why are you—“

“Leave me alone, Cass—“ He says with tears in his voice.

“Is it the pasta?”

“No—“

I don’t want him to cry. That’s all I care about right now. “I’m sorry I said that to my dad— I didn’t mean to— It just came out—“

“No, Cassie! It’s not that—!” He practically slams his palms on his eyes in frustration.

“Then what is it??”

“I—“ He stops to take in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go back…”

My vision blurrs as my ears start to grow hot. “…But you shouldn’t have to…. You can stay with us…”

“I can’t…”

“Why??” My voice breaks.

“Your dad will figure out… and it’ll be complicated and everything—“

“But it’ll be worth it in the end…” I kneel next to him.

He swipes at his eyes with his sleeve. He pauses. “You really think so?”

“Yes…! Yes…” And for once, I can actually feel a little hope.

He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes, but under all the stress and sadness in his expression, I can tell he’s feeling a little hope too.

It lingers only for a moment before it dies out again. “I can’t…” He whispers, more tears slipping down his face.

A knock at my door makes us both turn.

“Greg…” Dad’s back again, and I know he’d be even more worried that we’re both crying. “You’re not okay.”

“No— I am—“

“No, you’re not.” He states, not in frustration, but in firm concern. “Is someone hurting you at home?”

“No— Nothing is wrong—“ But the way he starts to tremble makes him even less convincing.

“You’re shaking, Greg. Clearly something is wrong…!”

“I— No—“ His face contorts as he cries more.

“I’m calling the police—“

“No—!” Gregory shoots up, his eyes wide and full of panic.

“We have to help you, Greg! Trust me, it’ll be okay.”

“No, no, no— You can’t—“

“It’s okay; you don’t have to protect whoever it is.”

Gregory tries to protest but he’s already reaching for his phone.

“Don’t worry,” He tries to reassure Gregory, but he just seems to get even more panicked.

“No! Please! You can’t—“

“Gregory—“ I hold him back, trying to give a hug or anything to give him reassurance but he pushes me away again. But not just me, he pushes my dad and I away, bolting down the stairs, despite my dad trying to chase him down.

“Gregory!” I scream desperately as he slams his way out the door and into the pouring rain. My dad follows after but I can’t seem to move. In fact, I don’t think I can do anything at all.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe…

“Kid! Breathe!” Roxy shakes me out of it.

“Sorry—“ I gasp for air. “I didn’t realize…”

“Don’t be sorry. Just watch yourself.”

Her paw is heavy on me when she rests it on my shoulder. “I didn’t know he was… homeless. If we knew— If Vanessa knew, we wouldn’t be so hard on him.”

“…I haven’t seen him since,” I add quietly. “That’s why I’m looking for him Roxy… He deserves a better life. A place where he can hide and be safe… You understand, right?”

After a moment, she nods slightly. “Yeah… I guess I do… I’m sorry, Cassie. And if I ever see him again… I’ll say sorry to him too.”

“If…” I whisper, feeling hope vanish again like it vanished in his eyes that night.

#fnaf #fnaf ruin headcanons #fnaf ruin #fnaf ruin dlc #fnaf ruin cassie #fnaf cassie #fnaf gregory #fnaf security breach #fnaf security breach gregory

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psychwxrdd · 2 months

Note

MORE STEP BRO DONNIE IM BEGGINGGGGGG

so sorry for taking long sweetheart, i've been working on a lot of requests but i'm really hating everything i write lately. you guys have so many good ideas i wanna write about all of them, at some point i swear i will, just need to work on this because i want it to be good. donnie makes me so inspired y'all can send any requests about him whenever y'all want to !!

Rumours

Summary: Donnie, your step brother, takes you to Middlesex "most haunted house" on Hallowen's night, where apparently, a terrible case of murder happened. He wants to play with Ouija Board. You always believed in demons and evil itself, but never would've imagine it to come this close to you.

masterlist

Warnings: Horror, Demonic Possession, Supernatural themes, Ouija Board, Domestic Violence, Murder, Non Con, 18+

english is not my first language btw, always apologize for any mistakes!

do not read this if any of the warnings makes you feel uncomfortable or triggered. i explore horror, grotesque and dark themes, if you can't stand it, just don't read PLEASE

"Are you sure this won't get us in trouble?" You hissed, already regretting for even suggesting the house near Donnie. You knew he was a freak, knew he would have some stupid idea and he would persuade you to do it, in one way or another. Hands sweating, heart anxious and a belly ache. Felt like you'd die at any second with so much panic.

"Trust me, we're gonna have fun, it's much better than if we just went to some boring party, you wouldn't have a story to tell your kids." He tapped the back of your head and you sighed. You were finally in front of the so called haunted house.

It didn't looked awful, not at all, it was pretty preserved. The rumours said the crime happened back in the late 60s or early 70s, a couple used to live there with their only children. Not a child, actually, probably a teenager or a young adult, you weren't quite sure which one was the "true" history - If anything really did in fact happen, so many different versions were told. They were italians apparently, and the dad was an alcoholic, violent man. You even heard a version telling there was a sister but that she had depression and tried to kill herself, so he send her to a mental hospital. Not because he cared, he didn't wanted people to associate her to them.

Then one day, while his wife and son were sleeping, he woke up and shoot them both. He told the authorities it was the house, that "they told him to do it ", and since they moved in his behaviour had changed completely, making him act like a mad man. No one ever told you the end, what could have possibly happened to him; Was he arrested? Checked in a mental hospital for insanity? Did anyone took it seriously, the possibilty of a possession?

But again, it was just a urban legend. Just some history to tell to your friends in school and make them hold their pee because they are too scared to walk to the bathroom alone. It was stupid to consider and fear this.

"You're coming?" Donnie asked and you blinked, realizing you were thinking too much about it, more than you should. At your big age, shouldn't be so scared of ghost stories.

"Yeah."

"Y'know i won't let anything bad happen to you, first noise and we run as fast as we can" He reassured you, cleaning the Ouija Board with a piece of his shirt. You just nod, too nervous to reply. "Hey, look, we can leave if you're really scared"

"No...I'm not a coward." You tried to act confident.

He opened the door, a sharp sound ringing through the empty, big place. It was definetly very old, smelled like something rotting, something left behind for enough time to be forgotten.

"Shit" Donnie muttered. His eyes scanning the whole living room, a bit amazed. If the family stuff was true, then they were surely rich and europeans in fact. He couldn't help but feel disturbed by the slight different tone of colors next to the window, it didn't looked just dirty, it looked like something you can not wash away, something penetrated permanently. Like when you break a glass of grape juice and take too long to clean, like you slept for days and forgot it there.

You were too tense to dive on it, tho. You didn't wanted to think about what was that, maybe just some other dumb teenagers who got inside the house to drink, do drugs or have sex. It could be anything really.

"C'mon, let's do it Donnie"

"What a badass" He smiled, teasing. You just rolled your eyes.

"Should we do it right here or upstairs?"

"I don't know if those stairs are trustable"

"Or are you just scared?"

This time, Donnie stared at you with an annoyed look, making you laugh.

"I don't fear anything."

"Yeah, sure" You crossed your arms. "I wanna see the bedrooms."

Sighing, he just agreed. Very carefully stepping ground by ground, afraid of it might breaking all of sudden. You held his arm, strongly, more scared of falling than of any ghost.

In fact, the house was very big, you would easily live here - if you had the money to afford it in perhaps another life. The first room was probably the guests one. Following to two big bathrooms, one with a bathtub, and more five rooms. It was hard to guess which one could had possibly belonged to any of them. Again, maybe there weren't any of "them".

"Look at this" Donnie grabbed your wrist, and you felt your mouth opening. That room belonged to a teenager, for sure.

Bowie, Morrison, Nick Drake, MLB and Sharon Tate's posters on the wall, cars and trucks miniatures, organized shells of books... Someone surely used to live there.

"You think his ghost will curse us if we steal some...?" He asked, and you tapped his arm.

"Shut up" You were still curious about everything, but mostly, you were paralized by the fear that hit you once you realized maybe the rumours were true after all. "We're playing it here"

He widened his eyes. "...Okay"

"Whats the stare for?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea, you know, if this was really the son's room and if the history is true, we're being hella disrespectful"

You chuckled, sarcastically.

"Are you fucking serious? Donnie this was your idea! It doesn't matter which place from the house, we're already here for only one reason, that would be disrespectful at anywhere!"

He sighed. You wanted to punch him in the face.

"Yeah, but-"

"Cut the "but", don't be a fucking coward!"

Darko's face went to a blank expression. "Okay, i'm not a fucking coward."

You sat on the floor, no longer wasting time. He followed you.

"You know the rules, don't you?" He asked in a serious tone, you nodded. "Answer with words"

"Yes, i know the rules!" You noticed how tense he was by the mood swing.

"Once we start this, you can not leave, not take your finger off of the board, you have to be focused, alright?"

"Alright" you breathed, heavily. You kind of wanted to cry, you didn't even really wanted this in the beggining, Donnie convinced you. Then he gets scared and regret and now he's dead serious, it did something to your brain. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack at any second.

The silence was bothering you, way too much. You wanted to turn your head and stare at the door every 5 seconds, but you couldn't. The only sound in the room was you and Donnie's heavy breath.

"I start" He explained. You just stared at him, your fingers were holding so tight against the board you saw it was white. "Try to control the shaking hands"

You tried your hardest, but it was almost impossible. You were too nervous, even your chin was creaking a bit.

"Dear spirits, we want to talk. Is there any spirit in the room with us right now?"

Nothing.

"Is anyone else here?"

Nothing.

Your hands both stood there, not moving for anything in this world - and out of this world, mostly. Still, nothing happened.

"Is any spirit in the room willing to talk to us right now?"

Then, it moved. It fucking moved. You felt your whole body tingling, your heart beating faster and your hands felt cold. It couldn't be really happenin, could it?

You knew - felt - Donnie was also scared as hell, but he was stronger than you, he tried to be. He wanted to show you he would protect you, that "he had no fear". Fear is not what move us as human beings, he hated that idea.

"Now that you're in the room with us, please, tell us your name"

Your hands both moved to random letters. It didn't made any sense, it seemed like just a bunch of non sense words. You were quick to come with one, it was "bowshed".

You were both paralized in fear, you could feel Donnie's hand sweating.

"How did you died?"

Again, the hands moved to random letters. The same letters. "bowshed".

You could tell Donnie was trying hard to figure out what word was that, what the hell did that meant.

"When did you died?"

The hands moved to the numbers over the board. "31/10/1973"

Your eyes were filled with tears, but you breathed and swallowed, you had to be brave.

"What do you want?" Donnie asked, and you stared at him with wide eyes. The wasn't exactly a proper question to ask to a ghost you invoked, probably.

"Donnie, what are you doing?"

He then took his hands off of the board, all of sudden, standing up, moving towards you so quickly you thought it was inhuman. He grabbed you by the throat.

"Don-" You struggled to finish, chocking on his strong hands "Donnie..."

There was something different about his eyes. It didn't looked dark, or red, or any other color. But it looked like someone else's eyes. It wasn't Donnie, it looked so weird, so disturbing. If it wasn't for his hands on your neck, you would scream in fear.

"Who invited you, bitch?" He hollered, you smelled alcohol and weed on his breath. "Huh?"

His veins were popping out of his forehead in anger, his face looked red.

"Cat got your tongue?" He threw you on the floor and you desperatedly cried and gasped for air, crawling backwards in direction to the door. But before you could get there, you heard it slamming hard.

Donnie, or whoever was that, kept staring at you. He took his belt off, and you frozed, crying hysterically. You were ready to feel the pain against your skin, but then you heard a woman screaming.

You opened your eyes, and the scene in front of you made you feel chills all over your body; Donnie was smiling at you. Not the usual smiles he gave you, this was sinister. You just wanted to run to your mom now, you were in fact a coward, it didn't mattered.

You heard now also the sound of what it seemed to be a boy crying, it was horrible to hear. There was blood all over the floor, you couldn't tell where was it coming from.

Then he suddenly grabbed you, turning you around and pressing your face agaisnt the floor. This couldn't be happening. He sat upon you, lifting your dress up and beating the belt on your ass.

"Gotta teach you some manners, whore. Teach you to not fucking get to whats none of your business"

He hitted, again. Again. Again. Again. The more he hitted you, the more you heard the woman voice's screaming. You never wished so bad to have a nightmare, you wanted this all to be nothing more than a nightmare.

"Please, stop..." You begged, sobbing.

You heard him unzipping his pants. No, no, no, this wasn't happening. You were not there.

"What did you do to Donnie?" you cried, "Where is my brother, what have you done to him?"

He said nothing, only putting your panties to the side and spitting on your clit. He rubbed slowly, and your body reacted slightly, as terrible as it sounds.

He placed himself inside you, and you screamed at his size. "Thats it, my little step sis" You frozed, how the fuck did that thing knew that?

You cried and he held your hair with one hand, pounding into you like you were just as inhuman as him. The pain started to feel like pleasure, somehow, maybe it was just your body protecting you. You never felt so terrified, ever, this was all unreal, this was an horror movie.

It wasn't a movie. It was your life.

"He is dead" He mumbled. "Bloodshed"

Your eyes grew wide. "What...What did you just..."

"Bloodshed. They are all dead."

#donnie darko x reader #donnie darko x yn #donnie darko x you #donnie x reader #donnie x y/n #donnie x you #donnie darko fanfic #donnie darko #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x y/n #horror #ouija board #dark fanfiction #horror fanfiction #supernatural #stepbro! donnie #stepbro! donnie darko

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creedslove · 5 months

Note

Can you do a headcanon for joel coming to meet his new girlfriends big family for the first time

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: I love this my love 💞

• meeting your family for the first time was a nerve-wracking experience, he hadn't felt that nervous since he was a teenager, and even if your family didn't have a reason not to like him, he was also convinced they didn't have a reason to like him either

• he was an older guy with a teenage daughter dating you, he had his own business and he'd also had a failed marriage, and thinking with his perspective of a father, he would hate if his precious Sarah got with a guy like him

• he was anxious and didn't exactly know what to do or what say, should he wear a shirt? Jeans? Boots or sneakers? Should he slick his wet hair back or let his curls wide? Maybe get a haircut?

• he was overthinking too many things, because in reality, he was scared of causing a bad impression on them, he worried people would start wondering what the hell a girl like yourself would do with a man like him, he feared he wasn't good enough for you and that somehow you would see that and decide to find something better

• even if that made absolutely no sense and it sounded like the craziest shit someone could ever think of, because anyone could see how crazy you were for him, and how meant to be you two were

• you didn't get why Joel was nervously trying to get his hair right, or the way he avoided talking to you while he drove, but the moment he parked in front of your parents' home, you took his hand

"you know I love you right?! It doesn't matter if they like you or not, I'm not seeking their approval, I'll stay with you no matter what, Miller, because you are going to be my husband one day, mark my words"

• you winked and kissed his lips gently, reminding him it was all about the two of you nothing more

• he seemed to relax after what you said, as he took your hand and got into your old home still looking shy but less nervous

• your parents welcomed him warmly, your mom was very kind and complimented your taste in such a handsome guy, while your dad quickly offered him a beer and talked to him about soccer

• you were glad your family was nice and receptive towards Joel, but it didn't really matter, as you loved him and would stick with him until the end

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

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mangoguy · 1 month

Text

CBF!König x GN!Reader (Chapter Two)

Warnings: reader has a dad (they are adopted), no pronouns but 'you', König has a name, bullying (not from you or König)

Alexander gets a note from a girl, you get a bad feeling about it.

Comments/Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Age: 12

Memory Three

“Who threw the first punch?”

It’s been about two months since school started, things with Alexander slowly improved… though the boy was still as confusing as ever. Outside of school you both continued to be stuck in this awkward-phase, where his mom forced him to hang out with you. He was still as quiet and fidgety as ever when you were around. But, being at school was a whole different story. He continued to stick to you like glue, although only spoke a few words whenever you tried to strike conversation. You tried to bring up your fight on the first day of school but he just glared at you… you didn’t bring it up again.

On the other side, things at school didn’t really improve, Felix was still bullying Alexander though now he set his target on you also. But now you know it wasn't just him, it was two others who liked picking on Alexander and by extension, you as well. Their names were Max and Annika. The three didn't pick on you as much as Alexander… but there were some petty times they did whenever you were in the halls or playground. You tended to ignore it though, but you didn't get why they kept it up. Was sticking up for Alexander really that punishable of a crime? Or was it because you talked back to Felix? You’ll probably never know.

You were getting sick and tired of it though. Sure, they often said hurtful things but it annoyed you more than anything. You often were too shy to stick up for yourself, ironic considering you had no problem standing up for Alexander just months before. You sighed as you laid in bed, the weekend was now over and Monday was looming over the horizon. You stared out the window, the town was quiet now. You were slowly getting used to it, your old neighbourhood used to be quite busy, but it was dead silent here. Sometimes you’d hear the occasional car pass by, but that was rare. Your eyes were slowly closing when there was a small tap on your window. You ignored it, figuring it was some rogue tree-branch hitting the window from the wind… but then it happened two more times in quick succession. Now you were weirded out and also a bit scared. It continued for a while, there was one more tap that was quickly followed by two more before it stopped all together. You didn’t dare check who it was, fearing that maybe it was a ghost – as silly as that was -- You faced away from the window and tightly closed your eyes, letting sleep take over you.

“Why didn’t you answer the window?” Alexander spoke the following morning. You two were sitting on a bench near the play structure. You looked over at him, puzzled by what he meant.

“What do you mean by that?” You asked.

“I was trying to get your attention last night…” He mumbled, fidgeting with the corner of his notebook. You squinted at him before remembering the odd taps at your window last night.

“Oh… That was you at my window? Why didn’t you just wait till the morning to talk?” You asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I was throwing rocks, I just wanted to-” He never got to finish his sentence before a girl walked over, you recognized her since she typically hung around Felix and his friends. But they didn’t seem to be around, nor paying attention to you and Alexander (not that you were complaining). She slapped a note onto his lap before sprinting off, Alexander stared at his lap before taking the note in his hand.

‘Meet me at the field after lunch, I have something to confess to you <3’

“That… sounds like a bad idea,” you mumbled.

“Yeah… but…” You noticed the slight hope in his eyes, he was trying not to be too hopeful. You couldn’t help but feel bad though, wondering if this happened often. You wondered how many fake confessions he got in his lifetime by girls who wanted a quick laugh.

Probably one to many.

“Hey, I can stop by with you… I’ll place some space between obviously but you won’t be alone in case anything happens,” You suggested.

“Um, sure…” He pocketed the note and that was it.

“So what were you going to say before you were interrupted?”

“Oh, uh, I’ll mention it later… it’s time to head in anyway,” he motioned his head towards the door where kids were starting to line up. You sighed through your nose before both of you followed suit.

“Wow, she’s actually here!” You could hear the excitement in Alexander’s voice. This was the happiest you’ve seen him, it was nice if you were being honest. He did look jittery though, wiping the palms of his hands on his jeans and taking a huge breath. You nudged him forward with your elbow, shooting him a smile before sitting down on the grass. He sent you a halfhearted glare and slowly made his way over. You couldn’t hear what was being said but you could tell it was probably a confession of sorts considering the two were red in the face. It wasn’t long before she ran off and Alexander was patiently waiting. A few minutes later you see movement near a bush, you focus your attention on it and low and behold Felix jumps out and pushes Alexander to the ground.

“I can’t believe you actually fell for it again!” Max laughed as he also came out of the bushes and watched Felix pin Alexander to the ground. His face was being pushed into the grass as he was kicking and flailing his arms, trying desperately to get up. You shot up quickly and ran over to the three, stopping just short of Alexander and Felix.

“Let him go,” You demanded. Felix just pushed Alexander’s face into the ground more, making him yell out in pain.

“And what will you do?” Felix spoke mockingly, seeing you hesitate on moving any closer. You never thought of hitting anybody, not even when Felix and his friends were bugging you. You could see Max walking closer to you, like he was about to grab you. He stood in front of you, blocking your view of Felix and Alexander.

“Just walk away, this doesn’t even con-” Max didn’t get to finish his sentence before you shoved him away. He tumbled backwards onto Felix and Alexander. You rushed over to him, helping him back up and pulling him away from the scene. Seems like luck wasn’t on your side as Max growled in frustration as he got up and charged over to you. He took you by the collar of your shirt and took the first swing at your face.

You don’t remember much after that.

But you and Alexander fought back like hell.

“You should have both kids expelled!” You heard one mother screech at the principal. The parents all ended up getting a call after a teacher noticed you and the others failed to come back. Said teacher recalled the events as ‘a ball of beaten up and bloody kids.’

Alexander was panting lightly, mostly from exhaustion. He looked worse for wear, grass stains, bloody nose, cuts, and bruises littered his body. You looked the same though your right eye was pretty banged up. You didn’t get the chance to assess Felix and Max, though from their groaning in the next room they probably weren’t any better than you two. You heard Alexander sigh as he plopped his head on your shoulder. It made you flinch a bit, you were tender there and he gave a quick apology.

“No one is getting expelled… technically your boy started it first” You heard the principal reply.

“My Felix would never!” She yelled again, she was like a toddler having a tantrum.

“Look, we’ll give them all a suspension for this unacceptable behaviour and I’ll make them write an essay on why fighting is bad, it's the best I can do.”

“Bullshit…” You heard your dad speak before storming out the room, he walked over to you.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s go,” dad spoke softly, you could tell he wasn’t very impressed by your behaviour. He took your hand and led you over toward the entrance. You looked back at Alexander who was now talking to his mom, from the looks of it she was really giving him an earful.

You could already hear the lecture your dad was going to subject you to.

Words: 1433

Chapter Three (coming soon)

#call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #cod x reader #cod x you #guy.writes #konig x reader #cbf!könig #cbf #könig x reader

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greenorangevioletgrass · 1 year

Text

forever young | b.r.b.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw & Pete Mitchell (platonic), brief mention of wife

summary: the 4 times Bradley lost a parental figure, and the 1 time he regained one (and became one himself.)

word count: 4.9k

warnings: language, canonical character death, mention of cancer, falling out, grief, birth, so much angst, but angst with a happy ending!

notes: this is a little different from what i usually wrote. It’s more of a character study than anything else, but i’ve been working on it since late last year and i hope it doesn’t disappoint! happy reading! <3

✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

***

1. “May God bless and keep you always / May your wishes all come true / May you always do for others, and let others do for you.”

Bradley was barely four when he lost his dad.

He didn’t quite understand it at first. There were only Duck Tales on the living room TV with the volume down and the hushed tones of his mother and a couple of men outside the door one random afternoon.

“Carole…” Bradley recognized Uncle Pete’s voice right away. Recognized the particular inflection in the way he said it. He’d heard it many times over the phone, at the arrival gates of airports, around the house when his mom left the two of them in charge of the pies for a minute while she fetched his dad.

Bradley had grown accustomed to associating that sound with his family all together again.

But there was something different about how Uncle Pete sounded now. It wasn’t as bright —didn’t quite ring across the room like it usually did. It was muted, barely audible through the wall. So, so quiet.

And then his mother’s wails cut through the silence. He didn’t quite understand it still, but he jumped out of the couch and bolted towards the commotion.

There was Mom. Uncle Pete. No Dad.

They sat him down to explain what was going on. That his dad was badly hurt when he was flying.

“Is Dad okay?”

His mom’s face crumpled. It was a simple question, and yet it took her everything to muster the simple answer, “He’s not hurting anymore.”

It didn’t make sense to Bradley. If he’s not hurting anymore, why’s she crying like he was? Why was Uncle Pete standing there like he’s done something terribly wrong? What’s going on?

“When is he coming home?”

“He’s not, sweetie.”

“Why?” and he swore he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He was just… confused. If Dad was hurt but not anymore, then why wouldn’t he be coming home?

His mother was the smartest person Bradley had ever known. Granted, he might have not met that many people in the four years of his life; but he could always count on his mom to have all the answers. Whether it was about frogs, or where thunder came from, or why they’d sleep at night.

But now, faced with the question of why Dad wasn’t coming home, she just looked… lost. Her blue eyes twinkled in the light, but it made Bradley’s stomach twist to see tears in them. Her lower lip trembled as she managed to say, “He didn’t make it. He…”

Bradley wasn’t sad. He couldn’t be. He didn’t know enough to. But his mom broke down right in front of him —he wondered if that’s how he looked when he cried because his toy dinosaur went missing last week— and it scared him. It scared him because he didn’t know what to do. His mom was smart, she always knew what to do when Bradley cried. But what did he know?

Instead, he just shook his mother’s shoulder, just a little bit, just like how she would wake him up in the morning. “Mommy?” She cried even harder, and it scared him even more.

Bradley didn’t even realize he was crying, too, until Uncle Pete ushered him aside and kneeled before him. His hands were rougher than Mom’s, but they were steady. Solid on his little arms, then on the sides of his face, callused thumbs wiping his puzzled tears away.

“Kid…” He sounded like Mom, raspy and choked up. Looked at Bradley with those gleaming eyes like Mom, too —maybe they really were brothers and sisters. “Your dad’s in the sky now.”

Oh.

The Duck Tales theme song played in the other room, so distant now in his ears. Only his mother’s sobs and his own dissipating into sniffles. The sound of his heart in his head.

His dad had always liked the sky. He spent most of his time flying through it, him and Uncle Pete. Bradley liked the photographs he’d send home, the rolls of clouds and dust and the sunrise, he would stick ‘em on the fridge next to his drawings. He liked the stories his dad came home with —loved the way he described the rollercoaster-like feeling (even though he wasn’t tall enough to ride one yet, maybe next year.) He liked imagining how nice it was up there.

He didn’t know what Uncle Pete meant. He didn’t know if Dad wasn’t coming home for good, or if he could still come visit sometimes. But Bradley, aged barely four, knew two things; that his dad loved him and Mom more than anything; and if Dad couldn’t be with him and Mom anymore, Bradley liked to think he’d be somewhere nice.

Somewhere like the sky.

***

2. “May you build a ladder to the stars / and climb on every rung / May you stay forever young.”

Bradley was eighteen years old when his mom passed away, but at least he was ready this time.

He’d driven her back and forth to her treatments since he was 16, memorized all the numbers of her primary physician and oncologist and nurse, knew all the steps of checking her into the hospital and remembered every entry on every form. Took notes (mental and otherwise) on what to do in the case of… well, the worst case scenario.

(He hated that part the most. After all the talks of death certificates and insurance claims and bank account cancellations, Bradley filled in his application for the Naval Academy. He knew she was against it, but if she wasn’t gonna be here for it, he might as well be a little closer to Dad, you know?)

But time came and went, and so did she. Bradley kissed his mother’s bony hand, her sunken cheek, her graying skin one last time. And as the nurse pulled a sheet over her and hauled her gurney out of the room…

Bradley went to work.

The closest thing his mother had to a family was Uncle Pete —Maverick, Bradley had taken to calling him almost exclusively these days— and so that was the first phone call he made to break the news. At 7 AM in a hallway by the hospital cafeteria.

Maverick arrived at the Bradshaws’ family home later that evening, having flown in from Belle Chasse as soon as he could, front door unlocked, and found the coffee table filled with stacks of folders and documents, and his best friends’ teenage son —the orphaned son— pacing back and forth on the phone.

Arranging for his mother’s death certificate.

Discussing burial plans with the funeral director.

Calling the lawyer about the will.

Bradley, the little boy Mav used to haul around atop his shoulders, carrying the weight of the world on his own shoulders now.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this by yourself, right?” Mav quietly piped up over dinner on his third night. “I may not look it, but I know how to handle these… logistics.”

“I know,” he replied almost immediately. “And I appreciate it, I really do. I just— I need to do it myself, if that makes sense?”

Mav simply nodded and didn’t push any further, and Bradley never said it, but he’d never been more grateful.

Because the thing was, he really did need to do it himself. To have some semblance of control. He didn’t have any back then, during his father’s death. The whole world spiraled out of its orbit, and he was somehow on the outside looking in. Watching as the grownups pat his head, his arm, his cheek, with their grownup remarks of you’re getting so big now, such a tough guy, your dad would’ve been so proud of you, look after your mom, will you? He felt like he didn’t deserve any of it.

Bradley puts on his suit, the one he wore for senior prom, and he nearly laughed at his own reflection. The last time he wore this suit, he was worried about the acne on his forehead and whether he’d get to make out with Cassidy Foster. And now…

Now he was thinking of the eulogy weighing him down in his inner pocket, worried about whether there’d be enough food at the wake. Looking like a kid playing dress-up as an adult —awkward, gangly limbs and clothes that never fit quite right. But he was grown. Nearly six-feet tall, finished high school despite everything, looked after his mom right til the end, and he hoped to God his father would’ve been proud of him.

“At least she’s up in the sky with your Dad, huh?” Iceman squeezed his shoulder reassuringly at the wake.

The irony was not lost on him. His mother hated that phrase. Hated how it used to make her sad when Bradley was younger, whenever he talked about ‘visiting Dad in the sky.’ Hated how it turned her angry as they got older, because he never grew out of it —out of the fixation on flying. On being miles up in the sky only to end up six feet underground like his father.

And he hated that she never understood.

Almost as much as he hated that she wasn’t here anymore.

Uncle Slider must’ve noticed the unease on his brows and chimed in to lighten up the mood. “I mean, you’ll be up there with us in no time, right, kid?” The slap on his back is sharper this time, and Bradley would’ve welcomed it… if it weren’t for the fact that he still didn’t know if he got into the Academy or not.

He thought he could focus on the funeral first. But the whole day, his mind shifted to the unopened envelope at home. It felt wrong to rush home when the last bit of dirt had barely been scooped onto the gravesite, but he did it anyway.

His childhood home, a modest two-bedroom bungalow with white-paneled front, sat on a quiet street in the suburbs of Virginia Beach. So still and soundless, now that Mav had gone back to base in Louisiana with Ice. His dress shoes made his toes ache even as they landed on the doormat. The ring of keys rattled as it laid on the console table. The light switch gave under his fingertip, and so did the envelope as he ripped them open. His heart was bursting out of his chest, and he tried to remind himself, this is just formality, there’s nothing to worry about, I’m already in…

But the words printed on the letter said otherwise. Bradley willed himself to read it, over and over, make sure that he read it right. He’s all grown now, he couldn’t have possibly misunderstood “we are unable to offer you admission.” But as the water welled up in his eyes, he started to think maybe he wasn’t that much of a grownup. Maybe he was just a kid, crying on the floor of the entryway of his childhood home.

Alone.

The house just swelled and sunk with his erratic breathing, heavy and aching with sobs. He didn’t like it one bit. He half-expected his mom to call out his name from inside the house. To tell him to eat. Take out the trash. Come sit with her and watch a cheesy romcom on HBO, anything because what the fuck was the point, then?! He was surrounded by everything she was —everything she used to be. It was such a cruel punishment to be grounded with all these ghosts.

Couldn’t meet his Dad halfway in the sky. Couldn’t be with Mom here on the ground, either.

Bradley eventually clambered up to bed—his parents’ bed— shoes toed off on the floor, jacket tossed on the chair. On any other occasion, his mother would’ve told him off for throwing his clothes around, but tonight was an exception. She would’ve understood. Just like she did when he started having nightmares when he was 6, or had his heart broken for the first time at 15.

That night, living through a nightmare and a broken heart all in one, Bradley, aged eighteen, curled up into his mom’s side of the bed and cried himself to sleep. His world was spiraling out of its orbit once again, and his head hurt. The mattress spun on its axis, and he drifted off daydreaming, hoping, pleading that he would wake up to find himself and his family pieced together again.

Somehow.

***

3. “May you grow up to be righteous / May you grow up to be true / May you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you.”

Bradley was twenty two when he lost his godfather, but at least it was out of his own volition.

He wished it hurt just a little less, but it was even worse because the day started out so good.

Maverick had flown in for Bradley’s graduation, and took the boy out for drinks at a local bar. It was pretty special; this marked the first time they went out for proper drinks (the occasional secret beers they shared at Mav’s garage whenever he came around to visit didn’t count, thank you very much.) They sat in a dark green leather booth in the corner, gin and tonic glasses perspiring, condensation pooling around the coasters.

“So you were shipped off to Bosnia and Iraq back-to-back, twice, because you were messing with the wrong girl, huh?”

“Or the right one,” he sighed.

It made Bradley chuckle. Leave it to Maverick to be the smartest pilot in the Navy and the dumbest son of a bitch when it comes to love.

“But enough about me.” Maverick swiftly changed the topic, leaning forward on the wooden table, “What are you gonna do after all this? The world is your oyster and all that…”

The butterflies swelled in Bradley’s stomach, and he could barely contain his gleeful smile. “Well, uh… Pensacola, actually.”

“What?”

“I’m a little bit behind, I know— but I can still make it as a commissioned officer and catch up with you in the sky in no time, old man.”

“But… what about traveling, or an, an, an internship somewhere—”

“Internship?” Bradley laughed —he didn’t think he’d ever heard Maverick say that in his life.

“I thought you enjoyed civilian life.”

“Come on, Mav. You and I both know I’m not cut out for anything else.”

It’s true. Baseball was fun and he was good at it, but he was nowhere near going pro. He did well enough in college, but that’s because he needed to. It was a stepping stone; a few inches higher towards the sky. A little closer to where he was supposed to be.

“Kid… It’s a tough gig. Are you sure about this?”

He didn’t understand it one bit. Out of all the possible reactions he’d played out in his head, this was strangely not it.

“What’s going on? I thought you of all people would be excited about this.”

“I know. I just… I don’t—” Mav sighed heavily, and the way he looked genuinely unsettled was unnerving. It’s strange. “I don’t think you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready. Without the Academy or the Reserves, this is my last chance.”

And then Mav’s face dropped. So did the pit in Bradley’s gut. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something was off.

“What is it, Mav.”

He was quiet for the longest time. Droplets rolled down the glass, and one slid along Maverick’s hairline. Bradley wanted to stop breathing altogether because it sounded too loud in his ears. But when the older man finally spoke up, he could hear him just fine.

Every single treacherous word of it.

With everything he’d gone through in his young life, Bradley thought he’d gotten used to heartbreak. His world was touch-and-go for as long as he remembered, but Mav was the only solid variable in that equation. He was away a lot, given the nature of his work, but his presence had always been at the forefront of his memories. In stories, in emails, in summers working in his garage.

And all the pieces of the puzzles painted a picture-perfect support to pursue his dreams, chase the sky. Which was why this whole thing didn’t make sense.

There was a boulder in Bradley’s throat, but he swallowed the ache. “Why would you do that?”

It barely sounded like a question. It was more like a demand.

Answer me. Look me in the eye. Tell me the truth.

“Because I care about you, kid.”

Bradley scoffs. “Come on—”

“It’s different out there… when you’re really out there. It’s dangerous—”

“Yeah, I know what I’m getting into, Mav. You told me all about it, all my life.”

“No, you don’t understand. The things you see out there, the people you lose…”

“What, like my dad?”

The words fell out of his mouth much too easily, it was horrifying. He wanted to take it back —but he couldn’t. He was already hurting, and part of him wanted Mav to know exactly what he’s feeling.

Maverick’s face fell, the pang of hurt flashing right before his eyes. “Exactly.”

“And whose fault is that?” Again, it didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like a statement.

One that changed everything.

Maverick was arguably the only constant thing in Bradley’s life. When everyone else aged up and moved on, he stayed the same. Just as lively, just as funny, just as youthful. A Peter Pan-like figure. But in that moment, Bradley finally saw the age catching up to him. The weariness. The fatigue.

The imperfections.

Maybe that’s where Bradley went wrong. He never saw Mav’s flaws —or maybe he refused to see him as any less heroic or invincible or fearless as he imagined as a child. Maybe that’s why it hurt so devastatingly.

He couldn’t read the look on Mav’s face. Maybe it's guilt, or desperation. Or maybe it’s defeat.

“I can’t let you do this, kid.”

And just as Maverick knew he’d lost, Bradley also knew he’d made up his mind.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” He got up from his seat, nevermind that his so-called uncle figure still froze in his seat. “We’re done here.”

Three words. So definitive. So… final. So short a sentence that ended a lifelong relationship, rivaled only by Bradley’s parents. With everything he’d gone through in his life, Bradley should be accustomed to heartbreaks. And he was —or so he thought, as he gathered his keys and jacket and left him alone. At least this time he chose to walk away.

***

4. “May you always be courageous / Stand upright and be strong / May you stay forever young.”

Bradley was thirty five when he attended Ice’s funeral. It shouldn’t have hit him as hard, but it did.

He’d got to know Ice after his dad passed—he and Mav became inseparable—and the shenanigans they used to pull together… Playing video games in his living room. Teaching him how to throw knives on the maple tree out front (which his mom had an ulcer over). Playing baseball with his sons—and accidentally breaking his own window.

But that was before things had gone south with Mav. He reckoned, whatever rapport he’d established with Ice was null and void by default.

Until the man himself makes his way over to Bradley at the TOPGUN graduation. All dignified. Important.

Familiar.

“Rear Admiral Kazansky, sir.” Bradley straightens up and salutes him. It felt funny to be saluting the man who got him in more trouble than Maverick back in the day, but what could he do.

Kazansky lightly waved him off. “At ease, Lieutenant. I just wanted to say congratulations.”

Bradley looked at the hand extended before him, and shook it just as formally. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled—it’s even funnier to see his formal, snark-less, non-gum-chewing smile, but Bradley reminded himself, this is not the time for shits and giggles.

“What’s your call sign again?”

“Rooster, sir.”

There’s a glimmer in his blue eyes. Then a smile—the amused smile Bradley grew up with. I knew you were still in there somewhere . “First Goose, now Rooster. Keeping it in the aviary, I see.”

“What can I say, sir? We’re a family of aviators.”

And suddenly, Bradley was 9 again, giggling with his Uncle Ice, making bad puns after watching Ace Ventura.

Ice—Admiral Kazansky— smiled to himself as his laughter dissipated, studying the young man before him. A dead ringer of his old man, mustache and all. Bradley hadn’t been able to grow it out the last time they saw each other—six years ago. There was warmth between them, but the mellow air was palpable. Bradley was sure he saw tears in Kazansky’s eyes.

“Your, uh, dad would’ve…”

“I know,” he whispered back. It was a pretty standard thing to say at this point, but Bradley knew it meant something else. Something more. Not just to him, but to Uncle Ice himself; he never got to see Goose graduate alongside him at TOPGUN.

And nor did Maverick get to see Bradley graduate now.

It seemed that Ice had the same thing in mind, because his next question was, “Have you talked to—”

“No, sir.” Bradley’s answer was a little firmer this time. “And I’d rather not.”

The Admiral nodded, opting not to press any further on the matter. Bradley liked that about him. He always knew how to give him space—something Mav never picked up on—and in that moment, it was widely appreciated.

“Well, you should come by our house for dinner one of these days. My boys are in town right now, and I’m sure they’d love to catch up with you.”

Another thing he liked about Ice; he would always let you know he’s there.

“That’s very kind of you, sir. But, uh, I ship out first thing tomorrow.”

“Some other time, then.”

“I will.”

And Bradley made good on that promise. He stopped by for dinner once he returned stateside, and every time he found himself back in San Diego. Ice wasn’t quite a parental figure in the traditional sense (at 25 years old, he reckoned he was getting too old for that), but he was familiar.

Solid.

There.

And he was, for a good ten years.

Ten years was a long time to know someone—a privilege for most people, in the case of their acquaintance with Admiral Kazansky. But once again, Bradley felt rationed for his time with the people he cared about. There was a time bomb with every single one of them, and Uncle Ice’s started when he first fell sick last year. There was nothing left to do—who was he anyway, in the grand scheme of things?—, so Bradley mostly just braced himself for the inevitable impact.

One would think he was ready to receive the bad news.

But Phoenix and Bob very narrowly escaped death in the crash just yesterday—that’s another time bomb he never heard ticking until it sputtered and nearly exploded. And as the Blue Angels streaked overhead, the engine roar sounded like a million time bombs ticking and exploding at the same time. Phoenix, Bob, even Mav…

One of the jets pulled up into a vertical climb—the “missing man” formation. And just like that, there were only two time bombs left echoing in his head.

Ice.

And his dad.

Running out together, thirty years apart. Leaving chemtrails in the sky long after the planes disappeared out of sight. Until the sky cleared (which it eventually would), and so did everybody.

Bradley wondered if he would always be the last one standing. He used to think it was just the shitty cards he was dealt, but maybe Hangman was right. Same old Rooster, always up on his perch, waiting for the right moment that never comes. Maybe it was a subconscious decision on his part, too.

The crowd dispersed, and Maverick was the only person stood frozen among them. Bradley still couldn’t forgive him for what he did, but he almost wanted to. Of all people, the old man would know something about being the last one standing.

“Ready to go?” Phoenix snapped him out of his reverie. Her hand landing lightly on his back.

Bradley took a deep breath. Whatever thought he had, whatever he wanted to tell Mav would have to wait. Now’s not the time. Now was the time to mourn the last of his parental figures, those who passed and those Bradley left behind.

***

+1. “May you stay forever young.”

Bradley was thirty eight when he became a father for the first time, and he was terrified.

He’d been through war and back again, and nothing could ever compare to the 14 hours he spent accompanying his wife in labor. She was kicking and screaming as she fought for her life and the baby’s, and all he could do was just sit there and hold her hand? He was already away for much of the second trimester, and that’s all he could contribute?

But he heard the baby cry as she landed in his arms the first time, loud and clear like the jet’s roar, and his whole world turned upside down. The team of doctors and nurses moved around like organized whirlwinds, but he stayed put with his girls the whole time. The sky was no longer his gravity; this baby, this family was.

He received a text from Maverick a couple of hours later, saying he’d arrived at the hospital. He fully meant to give a summary of how his wife and baby were doing, but when he saw the old man in the hallway with a flower, he broke down completely. Maverick couldn’t rush over fast enough. Bradley was in bits, and he had never seen him cry this hard since he was 8.

“Bradley. Hey. You okay? Are they okay?”

“She’s perfect,” Bradley managed, “Oh God, they both are.”

Maverick pulled him into a long hug. Bradley thought he was chuckling in relief (and partly at him, too). It wasn’t until they pulled away that he saw the red-rimmed, teary eyes of his surrogate father.

Bradley pulled himself together. “Would you like to see her? She’s sleeping in the nursery.”

“Show me the way.”

Bradley led Maverick towards the nursery, right by the window, where they could see the rows of babies bundled up in their bassinets. Bradley was about to point which one was his Stevie, but Maverick beat him to it.

“She looks just like you,” Mav mused.

“I know. Houdini’s so mad that she carried her around for 9 months, only to pop out a mini-me.”

They share a quiet laugh. It was nice, but… Bradley still couldn’t shake off the buzz going through his head.

Maverick softened, ever so slightly. “Talk to me, kid.”

Bradley was quiet for a moment. He was faced with two choices; either dismiss this and just enjoy this rare, nice moment, or address the pestering worries at the forefront of his thoughts. The former was easier, but he was a dad now, goddammit. He needed to stand up and face the real-life monsters, too.

“I was a mess. Crying and scrambling all over the place. Not exactly the best way to start with this… dad thing.”

Mav smiled thoughtfully—mischievously, almost. “Did you know that… when you were born, your dad cried so hard, he gave himself a nosebleed?”

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hm. The nurse had to pull him out of the birthing suite and everything. He turned out to be a great dad.”

Bradley wanted to recall the best moments, but he couldn’t. Truth be told, he could barely remember his dad. He remembered his scratchy mustache, his hoots and cheers wherever he went, his singing as Bradley sat atop the piano—his butt buzzing from the vibration of the sounds. But he didn’t really remember his dad.

He remembered his mom, and the many times they held each other’s hands because each other was all they had. He remembered Ice, who came around after Dad’s death and became a comforting figure at a safe distance.

And he remembered Mav, who was somewhere in between.

“Yeah, well… He wasn’t alone,” Bradley concluded.

“Neither are you.”

A pause. It took a death-defying mission on enemy territory (and a lengthy conversation to follow) for them to patch things up, but they were here now. Neither of them said it, but they were so relieved they finally had each other again.

“He would’ve been proud of you,” Mav said. “I know I am.”

He usually steered clear of all the cliched “would’ves” about his dad, but this one was an exception. Upon looking at his newborn baby girl, Bradley caught a reflection of himself in the window. It looked so much like his dad—and yet, it didn’t. The lines on his face ran deeper now. His shoulders were broader, heavier under the flowy linen shirt. He was much older than his dad when he had Bradley—it’s funny to imagine young 20-something Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw parting wisdom about fatherhood to Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw.

But his father was eternally imprinted in himself. His memories. And as he turned to Maverick—his Uncle Pete— he could see Dad’s pride in his eyes, too. This time, instead of brushing it off, he embraced it. He embraced the fact that no matter where he went, who he gained and who he lost, who was returned to him, that his dad would always be there for him.

Close to his heart.

Up in the sky.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #the actress & the aviator #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick #ava writes

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

(tw for mentions of suicide/suicide attempts and abuse (nothing detailed))

🎧💙

so i can find it ☝️

tldr at the bottom

AITA for telling my dad that my brother wanted to kill himself and then getting into an argument with said brother?

I (24 genderfluid) have a stepbrother (26) who has had a very difficult life. We haven't known each other for very long, only about five years, but for about three of those years, we were pretty much inseparable. We had similar interests, and I care about him very much. I knew he was struggling mentally and physically, especially since pretty much every time we talked he would bring up every way his mother had hurt him.

He lives in a different city with his mother and my biological father (I was adopted), and by his account, they don't treat him well. I believe him. I know about bad parents, and I know they can be one way at home and another way in public, so I didn't really doubt any of what he said about them, especially since I barely knew them.

My relationship with him was great at first. I always wanted an older brother, and suddenly I had one! But after some time, I started feeling more like the older sibling. I had to protect him. I had to make sure he was okay.

After even more time, I started feeling like the therapist friend who couldn't actually help with his problems. There was always something happening with him. He would say upsetting things without seeming to care if I was okay with it. He would accuse people of things baselessly then get upset if I questioned it. He would drop friendships over minor disagreements, usually over fandoms and ships, then say that he was so lonely and that no one seemed to actually want to be his friend.

This is all a preamble to the part about the argument, sorry. I don't hate him. I'm a little frustrated, sure, but I could never hate him. I know it sounds bad, and again, I'm sorry. I wanted to be his friend. I still do, because I know he needs people who will be there for him.

I wasn't open with how I felt until it was too much, and that part is definitely my fault.

Around the beginning of our third year knowing each other, he texted me saying that he wanted me to find someone to look after his cats. I was confused and scared, so I asked him what he meant. He said that it was all too much and he just wanted out. I started to try to calm him down, but I was at a point in my own mental health treatment where I knew I couldn't handle this without having an episode of my own, so I texted my dad.

He had told me that my dad was part of why he was having an episode, but, again, they live in another city and there was no way for me to physically get there to help him.

So I told my dad that my brother was not okay.

The next text I got from my brother was accusational.

He told me he was getting help from his other friends as well as me before that point, and that he wasn't actually going to end it all.

I broke. I was madder than I'd ever been in my entire life. I didn't know he wasn't actually going to kill himself, all I had were his words on a screen telling me that he was. I told him that I only told dad because I thought I was going to lose my brother, and I really didn't want to. I finally told him that I was unhappy with the way he was treating me, and he took that to mean that I was comparing him to his mother. I told him we both needed a break from the conversation because I was only getting more upset and I didn't want to go off on him anymore.

When I tried to text him the next day to apologize, I found out he blocked me on everything. I asked his friends about it, and they said it was because he was afraid that I was actually always out to hurt him. He was afraid that everything I did was always meant to hurt him. He was afraid that if I lived with him and his mother and my father (which was a plan my father had to get me out of my own abusive household), I would actively try to hurt him or his cats.

I can understand why he would be afraid that I would be lying to him about my intentions and feelings, because I had before. It didn't matter that I was trying to protect his own feelings, I still lied to him about mine. But he did, too. He told me he was going to kill himself, and he didn't actually have the intention to.

It's been about a year since that happened. I don't know if I dodged a bullet or if I'm the one who messed up worse.

tldr: aita for blowing up at my brother over unaired grievances after I told my dad that he told me he was going to kill himself even though he wasn't actually going to?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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yesimwriting · 2 years

Text

Final Girl (part 4)

(the scenes in this is what inspired the series so ig technically could be read as a stand alone and still make sense but the previous chapters obviously add context lol) Part 4 to - Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)

A/n fun fact there are two alternate versions of part 4 in my drafts, if anyone wants a bonus scene of Billy and Stu having a full conversation with Gloria, and/or a short scene of Y/n and Gloria getting ready together (which shows. a little bit more of their dynamic) it’s basically done and would only need a little bit of editing lol

also!! thinking about doing a lil billy & stu blurb night or sleepover thing,, any thoughts on that lol (prob saturday afternoon, when i’ll be tipsy 😭,, tipsy writing is fun)

my favorite thing about this chapter is how they’re all cute for 3 minutes and then get violently toxic 😭 duality ig??

Warning: i broke and put the first touch of smut into this 😭 everything before the switch in POV is pretty PG (very toxic vibes tho!!), so if you don’t want to read anything sexual just skip over the part at the end that’s in narrator’s POV!! (pls be nice, writing smut scares me, i’ve had very few sexual experiences and have enjoyed none of them lmao)

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: Due to a family emergency, Y/n is left home alone for the first time since what happened to Casey. Luckily, her good friends Billy and Stu show up to surprise her just as she’s starting to feel paranoid.

----

You’d think that someone that grew up with one parent would be used to being alone, but I have very few memories of total solitude. The few times my mom hasn’t been around, there’s always been someone.

Tonight, though, it’s just me. And I’m not alone in my childhood home--I’m alone in Wells’ house. My mom says that I don’t need to think too much about the fact that we moved into his family’s home, but sometimes I still feel like a stranger here. A guest.

Ugh, I shake the thought off with a roll of my shoulders. I’m freaking myself out for no reason, and I promised my mom I’d be fine.

She didn’t want to leave me, and I can’t blame her for her hesitance, but a family emergency is a family emergency.

I would have gone with her in a heartbeat, but I had the SAT this morning. My mom offered to have Wells stay behind, but honestly, the thought of being alone with her boyfriend for days made me more uncomfortable than the thought of being alone. At least it did at the time. But now that it’s dark out, I’m starting to think it might have been a bad idea to send away the trained police officer.

I could always call Sidney or Tatum. My mom said I could have people over, or maybe even sleepover at someone’s house. She actually wanted me to stay with a friend, but after my last sleepover, the thought of spending the night at someone’s house turns my stomach.

Now I’m alone, and it’s almost 9:00, and I’m really upset that most of my comfort movies are horror. The last thing I need is to make myself more para--

The sound of the home phone ringing snaps me out of my thoughts. It could be my mom, but we had just talked. She called me right before I got into the shower to give me an update. I guess it wouldn’t be that weird for her to call me again. She’s nervous about leaving me alone.

“Hi?”

There are no words, just soft breathing. “Hey, squirt.”

Nerves and embarrassing excitement roll in my stomach. I’m so shocked I almost forget that I’m on the phone and I need to reply. “H-hi, dad.” I sit up a little straighter. “It’s you, you’re calling.”

“Yep,” he breathes, popping the ‘p’ and breezing past my awkwardness, “Just checking in. I just heard what happened. Your mom called, but I’m in Europe on business, and because of the timezone difference it went to voicemail. My secretary somehow missed it. I am so sorry I didn’t call sooner, are you okay?”

My lips part, a strange amount of emotions twisting in my stomach, “I uh--I’m doing better. I wasn’t the one that was really hurt.” The thought of Casey strikes me in the chest. I cross my legs beneath me. “I-um--I missed some school because I had a concussion. A friend of mine had to convince me to go to the doctor, actually.”

He laughs lightly, “That sounds like you.” After a second, he continues, “You still want to do the whole Princeton thing?”

“Yeah, I-I’d like to. I’m trying to. Even took the SAT for the first time today.”

I can hear him shuffling. “Wow, squirt, the S-A-T,” he hums each letter, “You and Charlotte are really growing up.”

When I was at that age where kids are obsessed with princesses, I used to imagine that Charlotte was my evil step sister. She was the perfect girl in front of our parents, but there was something about the way she treated me that I couldn’t support. Her and her mother, Alice, always made it clear that my mother and I weren’t the real members of the family.

My mom was more open about my step sister than I was, and I can imagine how hard that was. She waited around for my dad for years, and he didn’t get his life together until grandfather told him to. She stood by him through addiction and through scandal, but once grandfather said dad had to grow up, he listened. He went to Princeton for undergrad and Yale for his masters and he married the woman Grandfather set him up with.

My dad’s only defense is that my mom sent him away. What he never seems to mention is that my mom’s breaking point was him leaving me alone at some dealer’s house when I was a baby.

“Charlotte,” I repeat, trying to hide the way the name stings, “How is she?”

“Oh, she’s good, she just heard back from Princeton because of their rolling admission policy, she’s in.”

Oh. Charlotte is one year older than me, so I knew that it was possible that I’d have to hear about her getting into dream schools soon. What I didn’t expect was to hear that she got into Princeton, and I didn’t expect it now. “That’s really great, dad.”

“Yeah, she’ll get the lay of the land, and once you’re in, she’ll be able to show you around.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, “That’d be nice.”

Another voice steals my dad’s attention. Likely his secretary. “Hey, squirt, I gotta go. Meeting.”

“Oh, y-yeah, dad. Talk to you later.”

“Yes, I’ll make sure to call soon.” He pauses before tacking on, “Oh, I sent you a get well soon present this morning. It might take a few days, but I hope you like it.”

My nails dig into the palm of my hand, “Oh, thanks, dad. Bye.”

With that the line goes flat. I place the phone back on my bedside table before grabbing a pillow that’s by my side. Settling the pillow onto my lap, I drop my face into it. “Ugh.” The groan is strangled and dramatic, but I don’t care.

I cannot wait to call my mom and tell her about how little miss perfect Charlotte is going to Princeton. Princeton is mine, it’s been mine my entire life. There’s a freaking poster of it in my room.

“You’re in a good mood.”

The words make me jump out of my skin. In a second, i’m on my feet, my hands reaching for the first thing I can find. It happens to be my bedside lamp. I blink, eyes wide as my head snaps towards my window. There’s a large figure sitting on the window sill.

“Billy! Stu!” Adrenaline is still running through me. “I could--I could have hurt you guys!”

Billy leans against my window’s frame comfortably, lips turning upwards. “With your fuzzy lamp?”

“Do not make fun of me.”

“He’s not,” Stu says, “You’re super threatening. I’m shaking so much I might fall off this ledge.”

I roll my eyes, shifting awkwardly. It’s not like Stu and I haven’t talked since my little blow up in the hallway, but things haven’t been the same. I don’t know if he’s waiting for something from me or if most of it is in my head because I feel a little bad. I never thought I’d miss Stu regularly jokingly hitting on me, but I think I’m starting to.

“Haha,” I mumble after a second too long of silence. Because I need an excuse to not look at them, I turn to set my lamp back down. “What are you guys doing here anyway?”

Billy shrugs, twisting to place his feet on the floor of my room. “Stu talked me into renting The Craft.” He stands, giving Stu the space he needs to also come into my room. “It made us think of you.”

“You two watched The Craft?”

“We got halfway through,” Stu admits, reaching into the black backpack he came in with, “Not my best pick.” He walks into my room casually, like climbing in through my second floor window is a regular Saturday night occurrence. “Seems like the kind of thing you’d like, though. Brought it in case you wanted something to do later.”

He tosses the tape casually onto my bed. I stare at it for a long second, hating the fact that he knows me so well. I remember seeing trailers for The Craft and wanting to watch it. Some joke about how he’s implying that he thinks I have bad taste tries to come out, but I can’t seem to form the words.

I don’t know if it’s the casual gesture or the fact that they showed up when I didn’t want to be alone, but an emotion I don’t really get threatens to overwhelm me. Maybe this reaction is the result of the phone call with my dad.

Stu must notice my stillness because he asks, “You okay?”

I take large steps, moving around my bed in order to reach him. My hug must surprise him, but Stu doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Tuesday,” I mumble, “I was moody and defensive and things have felt kinda weird since then and I just want things to be normal again.” This might be a total mistake, it feels like revealing an open wound. “You’re like one of my best friends.”

He squeezes me tighter, “One of?”

Tilting my head up to look at him, I reply, “Don’t get greedy.”

“Fine,” Stu mumbles after a second of pretend contemplation.

I should pull away now, but there’s something comforting about the position we’re in. Stu’s hugs are underrated, but his ego is big enough without me telling him that. “Do you have anything you want to say to me?”

“Mm...” He hums for a long second. “Nope, not really.” Well, getting along with him was nice while it lasted. I pull away sharply, shoving his chest when he reaches out to me. “I’m kidding,” Stu laughs, “Kidding.” I glare, trying to escape his hold. “I’m sorry, angel. I should have known that you were moody because of your head.”

The nickname takes me by surprise. I remember it from my hazy night at the hospital. I didn’t think twice of it then. Should I think about it now? It’s not particularly weirder than any other of the other nicknames Stu’s always calling me, and they’re all the same level of flirty except maybe bug, which is only really used when he wants his way.

“My head’s hurting a lot less.” I straighten slightly, arms dropping casually as I take a step back. Stu lets me. “I even took the SAT this morning. Totally not ideal with a concussion by the way, if my scores come back and they’re bad I’m so blaming the killer.”

“I remember your reaction at the doctor’s office.”

I turn towards Billy, who’s casually sitting on my bed like he lives here. “Yeah, not my best moment.” I scratch the back of my arm. “Thank you for making me go to the doctor, by the way. The first thing my mom said when I got home was that you must be some kind of saint to have put up with me like that. She’s always telling me that I’m a total monster when I’m sick in any capacity.”

Billy almost smiles, “So your mom likes me now?”

“You’re making progress.” Basically a lie. My mom won’t like any boys I’m friends with until I’m a college graduate. It’s shocking enough that she tolerates them.

“Really?”

I shrug, slightly unsure. Stu moves to sit across from me. “You can tell your mom I’m willing to do whatever to get in her good graces.”

Cringing, I grab a pillow from behind me and throw it at Stu. He barely manages to block it with his forearm. “She’s my mom!”

“And she’s a total babe.”

“You’re getting kicked out.”

Stu holds his hands up in defense, “Don’t worry, you’re still my girl.”

I roll my eyes, pulling my legs beneath me. “Mhm, I’ll mention that to Tatum next time she calls.”

Stu props the backpack up against the side of my bed. The way he dramatically falls across my bed is almost enough to get me to break character. He places a hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “Don’t turn this into something ugly. You know I love you both, just in different ways.”

“I’m glad you two felt the need to sneak in through my window to tell me that.” The comment makes me think about something that they practically made me forget about. “Why did you guys come here through the window anyway?”

“We missed you,” Billy answers with no hesitation. His tone is just a little too sweet to be genuine. When I give him a look, he tilts his head before actually answering the question, “We wanted to check in. It had been a few days, and you didn’t come back to school. You stopped answering calls. Sid told me the last two times she called you, your mom picked up and said you weren’t up for conversation.”

Normally, the thought of people looking out for me makes me nervous. Especially when it’s a guy. I know that past friendships and family issues aren’t the kinds of things I should push onto them. They’ve been good friends. Maybe it’s okay to let people in a little more than I have in the past. Besides, they’re just worried about their high strung friend that was attacked by a murderer and then had a melt down at school, it’s not like they’re crazy for being concerned.

“That’s nice of you guys. I’m doing better, I’ve just been...kinda disconnected lately. And honestly, I’ve been spending a lot more time doing makeup work than I’d like to admit.” My posture relaxes slightly. “You don’t need to worry.”

“There’s also a killer on the loose, and you don’t lock your window.”

Billy has a tiny bit of a point. In scary movies, I always get frustrated when characters are dumb. It’s the small, careless things that distinguish those that die and those that make it to the sequel. “My room’s on the second floor, I thought that’d count for something.”

“Not when the world’s easiest to climb tree is in your backyard,” Stu adds, “I thought you’d think twice about things like that.” He turns his head so that he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. “You’re always reading mystery books and the only thing you care about in movies is that there’s a final girl.”

Great, now Stu’s right, too. “That’s not the only thing I care about.” He’s quiet, watching me with a strange level of focus. He’s weirdly calm...almost dazed. I blink, gaze shifting to watch Billy from the corner of my eye. He’s also seems a little weird. “Are you guys drunk or something?”

Stu lets out a mock gasp. “Wow. You think that little of us?”

My eyes narrow, focusing on the backpack I so quickly dismissed earlier. “I think that if I opened that bag I’d find beer.”

With a wounded sigh, Stu sits up. He grabs his backpack, unzipping it casually. He reaches into it before pulling out a tall bottle. The liquid inside of it is as clear as the glass containing it. “Not exactly.” Stu unscrews the lid, taking an easy sip. He doesn’t wince as the liquid goes down his throat. “Here.” Billy shifts, reaching forward to take the bottle. “Ah--c’mon, Billy boy, let her have some. We’re being rude.”

“It’s okay,” I interrupt quickly, “I’m good.”

Stu frowns, extending his arm a little more. “Come on, angel, just a tiny sip. Less than a shot.” I don’t move, but my attention does shift to the bottle that’s hanging just a little too loosely from his fingers. “I won’t even tell on you to your mom.”

I roll my eyes at what he’s so clearly implying. “I think she’d be more focused on the fact that you chose to come in through the window.” Scratching the back of my wrist, I admit, “Plus, she’s not downstairs, so you can’t tattle on me anyways.” I watch him take in the words, a part of me regretting bringing that up. “Why’d you guys come in this way anyways? I would’ve come to the door.”

“You’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.” Stu props his head up on his elbow.

I look at him and then at Billy. “So this is an ambush.”

Billy drops one of his bent legs just enough to bump his knee into mine. “A wellness check in.”

Tamping down a grin, I roll my eyes. “Right. Silly of me not to realize.”

“If your mom’s not here, where is she?”

Stu’s blatant nosiness should have been expected. “Why? You actually here for her?”

“Jealous?”

Pressing my back into a pillow, I fake gag.”She’s my mom, Stu.”

He rolls his eyes at my theatrics before laying back down. I know that they must have noticed the way I ignored the question, but telling them that my mom’s not home and that she’s not going to be home for days feels a little like tempting fate now that I know they’re at least tipsy.

Billy lazily reaches for the bottle again. Stu lets him take it this time.

“She’s in Texas, anyways.” Please tell me my voice sounds casual and not at all nervous. “That must be so sad for you.”

I’m waiting for some kind of joke about blue balls or being heartbroken. Instead, Stu props his head up again. “So she’s not here not here?”

The distinction sends nerves straight to my stomach and I’m not sure why. My confusion is more uncomfortable than what I’m feeling. “Yeah,” I mumble, sitting up a little straighter, “Family emergency thing. My godmother is like super pregnant with twins and just got put on bed rest. Her husband’s out of town for work this weekend, so my mom flew there to take care of her.”

Billy’s head turns in my direction, “So it’s just you and good old step dad.”

His lips turn upwards at my glare. “No, Wells is with her.” I shift uncomfortably at the thought of being alone with Wells with no buffer for that long. “I would’ve gone with them, but I already had the SAT scheduled and their flight was early.”

Stu breaks the unexpected silence, “So they left you alone with a killer on the loose?”

Shrugging, I drop my gaze to the floral pattern of my bedsheets. “It’s not like that. My godmother’s miscarried before, she’s freaked out.” My pointer finger traces the dainty pink petals sewn into the fabric. “And I just calmed myself down, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bring that stuff up.”

“Relax, angel,” Stu mumbles absentmindedly, “You can stay at my place if you want. My parents aren’t home either, so it’s just me and Billy tonight.” `

Yeah, I’ve done a lot of pathetic things recently, and I don’t need to add crashing Billy and Stu’s sleepover to the list. Plus I don’t think I need to know what goes on at boys sleepovers. Living with a grown man for the first time was enough of a culture shock. “I appreciate the offer, but last time I stayed over at someone’s house kind of...”

“We could stay here.” Stu’s offer comes out so casual, so without a second thought, I nearly get whiplash. I stare at him, waiting for him to grin or do anything that indicates that he’s joking. He does neither, instead he just looks at Billy like he’s asking him if they’re staying here. Not me.

Billy tilts the bottle in my direction, silently offering it to me. “We could hang out, make sure you fall asleep okay.” He relaxes enough to let his free hand fall. His fingertips ghost my forearm. “Pretend all you want, but I know that staying by yourself has to be bothering you a little.”

Ugh. I hate when he’s right. Maybe a drink isn’t the worst idea right now. It might give me the confidence I need to seem okay with being home alone. I take the bottle, cautiously bringing it up to my lips with the intention of only taking a sip. The bottle tilts upwards with no warning. The unexpected amount of extra alcohol leaves me nearly sputtering. I’m forced to down two large mouthfuls to avoid spilling it all over my bed.

When I finally get the bottle away from me, the sound of laughter and the rush of straight vodka leave me flushed. “Stu!” I’m trying to yell at him, but his name is barely sputtered out between coughs.

“What? This isn’t even 40 proof.”

Billy glares in Stu’s direction before he sits up a little more. I let him tilt my chin up softly. His touch is feather light as he wipes excess liquid up my chin and across my bottom lip. The motion is slow, the nail of his thumb pressing into the edge of my lip, pulling it just enough for me to notice. He’s looking at me with such deliberation my stomach drops.

Wow, I really cannot handle my alcohol. I pull away, hand gripping the side of my bed as cautiously as possible. “You suck, you know how I get when I drink.”

I’ve only been drunk in front of them once. The entire group was together and after my first beer, I spent the rest of the night holding Tatum’s hand and whining whenever Stu tried to steal her away. He was starting to actually get annoyed with me, but I ended up getting super nauseous before he could actually get mad. The next day, he teased me to no end about being an extremely touchy lightweight.

“You weren’t that bad,” Stu lies, hand casually reaching forward to catch my ankle. “Just touchy. Thought you and Tay were getting ready to put on a show.”

“Shut up.”

He yanks my foot towards him, placing my calf on his lap. “Make me.”

I roll my eyes, nerves that I don’t understand rising up my chest at the silence that follows. I could laugh, but he doesn’t need that kind of encouragement, so instead I kick the foot he pulled towards him. The movement is light, more of an attempt to shake him off than anything else. Stu doesn’t take it that way. His hand moves up past my calf, fingers harshly pressing into my skin.

I’m reminded of that night in the hospital. The way Stu gripped my thigh. Small bruises that I thought about more than I’d ever admit lingered there for days. He was joking then, and he’s joking now, but his touch feels different. More (or maybe less?) restrained. There’s also something about the way he’s looking at me.

My head turns in Billy’s direction. “Think I could take him?”

Billy looks at Stu and then at me. “You’d kick his ass.”

I grin openly, glad for the break from tension. Stu’s hold on my leg loosens. He’s no longer gripping onto me, but his touch is persistent as he draws patterns against my skin. The change doesn’t exactly ease me, but I’m worried trying to pull away will make things worse. Something tells me he won’t take it seriously, he’ll think I’m challenging him as a joke or something.

“You wanna kick my ass?” Stu drags his fingers up my leg, stopping at my knee before slowly moving back down.

I shrug, “Not sure yet.”

Stu rolls his eyes before extending the hand holding the bottle. “Decide after another sip.” When I dramatically glare at him, Stu smiles slightly. “I promise not to do anything this time. I’m still not convinced, and it doesn’t entirely have to do with Stu. I’m not sure I want to drink anymore, I’m already finding it hard to focus. “Tell her, Billy.”

“I can’t help that she’s not an idiot.”

Billy’s response isn’t even that funny, but I laugh freely anyways. Stu pouts at my reaction, pulling the bottle back towards him. “Fine, don’t trust me.”

I’ve dealt with Stu’s coldness for days and he’s just starting to act normal again. The last thing I want is for there to be another fight, even if it’s just a petty one. With a roll of my eyes, I lean forward and grab the bottle. “Don’t be so dramatic,” I bring the bottle to my lips and take a quick drink. The liquid burns as it goes down. “See, I trust you.”

Stu doesn’t relax. He just stares at me. Are his eyes darker than they were earlier or is the alcohol starting to get to me? I need an excuse to break eye contact. I raise the bottle again, taking another sip.

Billy’s touch on my back is easing, which is nice because the buzz is starting to kick in a lot stronger than I expected it to. There’s no way Stu was telling the truth when he said that the vodka’s less than 40 proof. “Have you had anything to eat?” He’s moving his hand in circles like he did when he found me in the bathroom. It’s more soothing than it should be. “Last time you didn’t you got sick.”

His words are so calm I find myself giggling. “That’s very motherly of you.” Billy throws me a slightly irritated look. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, it’s nice.” My head tilts forward, the motion more drastic than I intended it to be. Billy places a hand on my cheek, stabilizing me. “I um--I ate. Ordered Pizza earlier. There’s still some in the kitchen if you guys are hungry. Or I could--could get you something to drink. My mom would be mad if she knew you guys were here, but she’d kill me if she knew I had people over and didn’t offer then anything to eat.”

Billy tilts his head downwards, a strand of hair falling forward. The urge to push it back into place leaves my fingers itching. “Does that mean you’re letting us stay?”

What does that mean? They’ve been staying. It takes me a second to realize that he’s asking me if they’re staying the night. “It’s--”

“Come on,” his voice is soft, his breath warm against my jaw, “We just want to help.”

My thoughts are mush, and I’m not sure that’s just because of the alcohol. I lean back in hopes of creating some distance. “You guys can hang out,” I mumble, “But I don’t think you should stay too late. I’m kind of spacey and a little tipsy and tired. Think it’d be good for me to stay by myself tonight.” The answer feels awkward, maybe even a little risky. My eyes focus on the Princeton banner in the corner of the room. His silence is beginning to crawl under my skin. “Billy?”

When I finally find the courage to look at him again, there’s something eerie about the blankness in his expression. His hand drops from my face. “It is getting late.” He glances at Stu, nodding his head once in the direction of the window. “Wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome.”

I settle the bottle in my lap before wiping at my face with both hands. I should have known better. He takes things like that more personally than one would expect. Memories of the time Billy asked me if I wanted to study for our History test together after school leave me frozen in place. I had already promised to help Randy study for a math test. Billy was cold towards me for a week.

“Billy.” He doesn’t look back at me. I scoot to the edge of my bed, placing the bottle on my nightstand. “Stu.” Stu glances at me, but says nothing. “Don’t go.” I can’t look at them. My nails dig into my bedsheets. “Come on, I-I need you guys.”

God, I’m never drinking again. The admission is so embarrassing I can feel blood rush to my face. I don’t look up until fingers press in to the skin beneath my chin. My head is tilted upwards before I can make any kind of decision.

“Need us?” Billy’s voice is low and unbearably patient.

I blink up at him, unsure on how to proceed. I learned early on in our friendship that it takes little to trigger some kind of power trip in them, and that that tends to lead to meanness. But every part of that’s lost to the buzzed feeling of the alcohol doesn’t care. I nod slowly.

I’d consider the slight uptilt of the corner of his mouth a smile if it wasn’t for the strange look behind his eye. He’s so hard to read sometimes and that just makes me resent the fact that I’ve always been an open book. He knew about my concussion before I did. “A little bit of alcohol is all it takes with you, huh?”

His tone is so patronizing I’d pull away if I was any less fuzzy. “More than a little.”

Billy lets out a partially amused breath. “To you.”

“Remember how you got after two beers?” Stu sits next to me, so close our knees touch.

I shift back, forcing my eyes to stay on my lap. “That’s why I didn’t want to drink a lot, but some asshole tilted the bottle with no warning.”

“Mean of them,” Stu agrees, shockingly amicable as he takes my hand from my lap. I watch as he messes with my fingers, curling and uncurling them like a child would with a toy. “Let us stay, bug. We’ll have fun, watch movies, I’ll go downstairs for you if you get thirsty in the middle of the night.”

The specificness of that last part leaves me confused. I tilt my head in his direction, but Stu pays no mind to it. Billy half huffs, “I’d get you the water, Stu’s too selfish when he’s tired.”

“Fuck you,” Stu protests, squeezing my hand once, “Maybe I’d do for it Y/n. Maybe I like her more than I like you.”

Billy barely justifies that response with a look in Stu’s direction. He then turns towards me, eyes softening slightly as he shakes his head once. Despite myself, I smile fondly. “It’s not that I don’t want you guys to stay, it’s that I don’t know if it’s okay.”

Of course Stu’s the one to ask, “Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Even in my state, I know he knows exactly what I’m implying. He’s fighting a grin, enjoying the prospect of me having to say it a little too much. For once, I can’t use my mom as an excuse. There’s literally zero possibility of her finding out, she won’t be in the same state as us until Tuesday. The only way she’d find out is if I tell her and if I admit that I’m scared of letting it slip out, the mommy’s girl jokes will never end.

“You know why,” I begin, watching Stu trace the line of my palms. “Don’t think Sid and Tatum would love the idea of their boyfriends...” He’s really going to make me say it. I resist the urge to pull my hand back into my lap and curl into myself. “...Having sleepovers with me.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before Stu laughs. “You and Tay get up to a lot at your sleepovers?”

The alcohol’s really getting to me because it takes me a second to understand the joke. My delayed eye roll is definitely noticed. “That’s not--it’s--” I pull my hand away, crossing my arms over my chest. “You know what I mean. It’s different.”

“Why’s it so different?”

That’s the kind of question I expect from Stu, but from Billy, it’s not as easy to dismiss with an eye roll and halfhearted shove. “It’d-it’d seem weird,” I whisper, “Tate and Sid--”

“Would be happy that we’re keeping you safe. They love you.” Billy places a hand on my shoulder, his thumb brushing against the strap of my tank top. I was too distracted before to think about what I’m wearing, but now I can’t help noticing that this is the skimpiest I’ve ever worn in front of them.

It’s not like I’m naked--but my old, elastic pajama shorts are the kind of thing I can’t wear around Wells. My tank top isn’t scandalous, but I’m too aware of the fact that I’m not wearing a bra. I also don’t love being seen in clothes like this. Two different types of insecurity strike at the same time.

“Sid would kill me if I let anything happen to you,” Billy continues, his thumb moving up and down my skin. “C’mon.”

This was always a losing fight. It’s kind of hard to put your foot down when it comes to something that you don’t really want. I know that my points are valid, or at least, I think they’re valid.

Maybe I am being a little dramatic. It’s not like we’re doing anything bad. Even if they didn’t have girlfriends, I really doubt either of them would see me like that. And is it so bad that I don’t want to be completely alone in this house? We’re friends, friends have sleepovers. Plus it is nighttime and they’ve been drinking, sending them to walk home could lead to something happening to them.

“Okay,” I give in, “But best behavior. My mom will kill me if she thinks you guys stayed over.”

“Aw,” Stu says, moving to rest his head on my shoulder, “Willing to keep a secret from your mom for us.”

Instead of shaking Stu off, I rest my head against his. “Guess I like you guys.”

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

I frown, “I’m not sleepy.”

“Then let’s go watch a movie.” I pout when Stu moves away, “Come on, I brought options.”

Moving to sit closer to the edge of the bed, I wipe my eyes with the back of my palm tiredly. Stu brought more movies? For a spontaneous, tipsy visit, Stu seems remarkably prepared. He grabs the bottle off of my nightstand. The implications of that makes me sigh loudly.

Billy reaches forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s easier to go along with it.” I let him help me to my feet. When I sway, Billy’s hand is quick to find my hip. “I’ll help you down the stairs.”

I don’t protest. It’s probably for the best, anyways. Tipsy me isn’t exactly known for her coordination.

True to his word, Billy’s hand stays on my hip as as we walk to the living room. Once we’re down the stairs, Billy’s hold on me doesn’t loosen. Stu’s already messing with the VCR by the time I’m sitting on the couch. I consider offering him some help, but decide against it. I’m comfortable, and probably too out of it to be useful.

Watching a movie feels like a good thing. Knowing them, it’s probably something scary, and they take their horror movies seriously. It’ll consume their attention, which means I’ll be able to recover from the alcohol in peace.

Stu must figure out the VCR because he stands up and walks towards us. He sits down next to me, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “What’d you put on?”

"The Shining.”

“Finished the book recently.”

“Hm,” Stu hums in acknowledgement, already turning his full attention to the movie.

The movie playing lets me relax. There’s no need to worry about doing anything stupid or embarrassing because the two of them are going to be immersed in what’s on the screen.

Only a few minutes into the movie, Stu takes a sip from the bottle of alcohol. I almost forgot he brought that down with him. He then offers it to me without looking away from the TV. My hand wraps around the neck of the bottle. After a few sips, Billy takes it from me. He ignores the way I look at him, opting to drink even less than Stu did before setting the bottle down on the coffee table.

I’ve watched The Shining before, and I’ve been meaning to rewatch it since finishing the book, but focusing isn’t coming easily to me right now. At least I know enough about to plot to not be confused as my thoughts tune in and out.

My head ends up on Billy’s shoulder. I don’t remember making the conscious choice to do so, but I’m comfortable and Billy doesn’t shake me off, he just brushes his knuckles up and down my leg absentmindedly.

The longer the movie continues, the harder I find it to understand what’s going on. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because the bottle somehow keeps making its way back to me.

I blink hard, trying to figure out what point of the movie we’re at. We’re not near the end, Jack Torrence hasn’t fully snapped yet, but his writer’s block is getting bad. A confident touch to my left knee snaps me out of my analysis. My head turns against Billy’s shoulder. Stu’s eyes are still trained on the movie, but his hand is on my leg, and not in a casual, mindless way, either.

He squeezes my knee as the little boy rides his tricycle past room 237. “Stu.” His fingertips trail up my inner thigh slowly, lingering where my shorts end. I shift, unintentionally pressing myself more into Billy. Stu presses his hand down in order to keep my leg in place. “Stu.” What’s meant to be a scolding comes out too sleepy and slurred. It practically sounds like a whine. “’M serious.”

Stu’s nails drag up my skin. My breath catches in my throat oddly, a tiny sound slipping out. “Serious about what?” My lips part, but no words are ready to come out. “You’re okay,” he whispers, “Just watch the movie, angel.” I’m too buzzed to do anything but nod. “Want more to drink?”

“She’s done,” Billy squeezes my forearm, “Anymore and she’ll get sick.”

The thought of drinking anymore does twist my stomach. Sometimes the way Billy reads people is a tiny bit eerie. I nod against his arm, squeezing his hand. Stu shrugs, turning back to the movie without moving his hand from my thigh.

By the time the movie’s ending, the fact that I’m aware of anything is a miracle. I only fell asleep once and woke up to the feeling of Stu squeezing my thigh. The fact that my initial reaction wasn’t to try to get him to knock it off, but to pretend to still be asleep scared me so much I didn’t let myself relax for the rest of the movie.

"She asleep?” Stu’s voice is barely louder than the sound of still rolling credits.

I shift against Billy in a sad attempt to sit up fully with no support. “Still awake,” my voice is too drowsy, I try a little harder to sit up before wiping my eyes. “’M up.”

Billy keeps a hand on my arm in an attempt to help stabilize me. “Clearly.” I try throwing a sarcastic look in his direction, but it feels kind of pathetic. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Stu grabs my hand, pulling on my arm before I can respond. They help me stand and stay up. They’re attentive as we move up the stairs, pausing and holding me a little tighter each time I threaten to sway or stumble. I’m barely there by the time we get to my room.

The second I see my bed, I abandon them both in favor of finding my mattress. I stumble, pulling back my sheets before laying down. Billy sits down on the other side of the bed. I roll onto my stomach in order to reach for him. My hand falls short, but Billy moves to compensate for my lethargy.

I can barely lift my head off of the mattress, “Hi.”

His hand is on my back, moving in small circles. “Hi,” he echoes. I smile at nothing in particular as I try to keep my eyes open. “You need sleep.”

With a laugh, I turn onto my back. Billy moves his hand away, looking at me sternly as I continue to giggle. “Astute observation.” I lazily try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Weird word, huh?” Using the last of my energy to sit up, I laugh again. The sound gets cut short by a yawn. “Never really thought about it before the SAT.”

“Uh-huh,” Stu starts, placing a hand on my shoulder, “You spent who knows how long with your nose in an SAT prep book, we get it. Now go to sleep.”

My head lulls to the side, mainly subconscious protest must be visible on my face because Stu pushes against my shoulder and that’s all it takes for my back to fall flat against my bed. My eyes go wide in surprise. I shift like I want to sit up, but then decide to just roll onto my side. “That wasn’t nice.”

He sits next to me, “I’ll make it up to you in the morning.” My eyes are now shut but I can hear his movements. The feel of a hand brushing against my side should alarm me more. I open my eyes just enough to see Stu lying next to me. “Promise.”

I hum vaguely in agreement, nodding my head more into my sheets than anything else. I’m so close to sleep I barely register the feeling of Billy’s hand against my back, moving in the same circular motions as before.

The last thing I register before falling fully asleep is the light getting turned off and long fingers brushing against my neck. I’m in a state that’s more dream than reality when something oddly sharp--but not painful--quickly brushes against my neck. Before I can think about it, I’m pulled under.

----

Narrator’s POV

Stu can’t help it. He’s been trying to keep it together all night, trying to pace himself and hold onto the way he’s supposed to act, but it’s been getting increasingly harder around you. Especially tonight.

The urge to break character, in a sense, isn’t his fault. Not really. How is he supposed to focus and play best friend’s boyfriend when you’re everywhere? The postures and pictures on your wall, the overflowing, well loved bookshelf in the corner, and your sheets. The dainty floral pattern, the softness of the cotton, and the way that they smell so much like you. He can’t stop imagining what it’d feel like to press your face into them as you took him from behind.

He thought being in your room would be easy. It’s not like he’s never checked it out before, but only while you weren’t home. But being here with you? A drunk, touchy, needy you? Almost impossible. He’s been trying to hide how hard he is all night.

But now you’re asleep, and the alcohol he kept getting you to drink is guaranteed to keep you that way until late morning. His hands have been all over you since he first realized that your breathing evened out. He moves one hand to palm himself over his pants. His free hand trails down your side, squeezing your hip.

“Go to sleep.” Billy’s voice isn’t tired, just a little flat, and maybe a tiny bit annoyed.

Stu recognizes the lack of demand in Billy’s tone and decides that his words are more of a ‘knock it off’ than a serious ‘stop’. “Like you’re not hard.” Stu’s fingers brush against the hem of your shorts. “Y/n said she needed us and then spent two and a half hours basically laying on top of you.” Stu slips his hand beneath the waistband of his pajama pants, knowing that with a few more words he could finally get some release. “Remember yesterday?” Stu groans, his hand moving down his length. “You came to the thought of that.”

Billy stays still, ignoring a feeling he’s been in control of since early in the night. “It’s too soon.” He glances at you, so tired and so needy. “We push anymore tonight and we won’t be able to blame it on drinking.” Your breath flutters slightly, your chest expanding a bit more than usual. “If she thinks anything’s up she won’t talk to us anymore. She’s still too close to Sidney and Tatum.”

“Relax,” Stu sighs, his hand moving a little bit faster, “Sh-she drank enough to keep her knocked out until tomorrow. Fuck.” Stu turns his head at the sound of Billy moving. He frowns dramatically when he realizes that the movement was just Billy brushing his knuckles over your cheek in order to sooth you and make sure you’re still sleeping comfortably. “You’re babying her, we should just talk her into it already.” Stu likes the thought of that more than he can put into words. The three of you, like it should be. “Should’ve felt her when my hand was on her thigh. She--fuck--she was shaking, pretending to be asleep.”

Billy lets out a breath, reaching over for Stu lazily. You don’t even shift at the motion. “You think I’m babying her, but she’s the one that has you wrapped around her finger.”

Stu parts his lips to protest, but Billy pushes his hand beneath the waistband of Stu’s pants before he can get the words out. “Shit,” Stu’s breath hitches, “Fuck you, Y/n lets me do whatever I wan-want.” Billy moves his hand at a pace that’s agonizing. “She wouldn’t stop me if I-”

Stu cuts himself off with a groan. Billy finishes the sentence for him, “If you spread her legs apart, pulled those tiny shorts to the side, and ate her out until she’s crying.” With each word, Billy picks up his pace, indifferent to Stu’s whines. “You want to do that?”

“Yes,” Stu doesn’t hesitate, “Fuck, yes.”

“She’d squirm under you like before.” God, Stu’s practically seeing stars. “She’d let us fuck her like a whore.”

Stu bites his tongue to suppress a whine, his fingertips digging into your hip. “Shit, I’m close.”

Billy moves his hand up, pulling it away from Stu slowly. He ignores Stu’s whine. “Go to sleep.”

----

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