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krirebr · 6 months

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We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house.

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted.

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined.

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted.

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you.

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black.

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say.

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left.

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from.

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there.

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again.

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked. He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said.

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right.

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times.

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.”

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?”

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!"

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season.

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table.

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place.

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.”

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

“New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you.

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly.

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh.

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought.

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?”

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand.

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant.

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house.

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down.

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?”

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror.

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you.

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you?

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys.

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?”

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath.

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

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roosterforme · 2 years

Text

Sounds Ideal | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Having you in his living space makes everything seem better and brighter to Bradley.

Warnings: Fluff and smut, lots of sex and sweet lovin'

Length: 1400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You?

Check my masterlist.

Bradley noticed how much the house had changed over the weekend, and it thrilled him. Friday morning he looked around at his sparse belongings; his whole one drawer of clothing in the massive dresser, his row of Hawaiian shirts in the closet.

Then you came in and filled the space. He reassembled your bed frame in the master bedroom while you hung dress after dress next to his shirts. His shoes even looked better with your much smaller ones next to them. The room finally felt like somewhere he wanted to spend some time. Mostly because you were there, with your voice and your smile and your laugh.

The kitchen drawer of takeout menus and the freezer full of microwave dinners were unrecognizable by Friday evening. You had unpacked real pots and pans into the space, and you had all these cool kitchen gadgets that he didn't know the purpose of. But he loved them all.

Even the bathroom had taken on a new life with your fluffy yellow towels hanging along the wall next to the shower. When you asked him on Friday night which side of the bathroom sink he wanted, he almost laughed. He didn't need a side, he only needed about six square inches for his toothbrush and toothpaste.

"Sweetheart, you can take up as much space in this house as you want to. Go wild. Make a mess."

"But Bradley, it's your house-"

"Y/N, please stop saying that. It's your house too. I invited you to be here with me. I want you here. I want all your stuff everywhere. Everything is already better with you around, and you've only been living here for three hours."

You licked your lips and climbed into his arms. And that's how you ended up having sex for the first time on Friday night on the bathroom floor. It was really kind of sweet too, the way you straddled his lap while he sat with his back against the sink vanity, whispering how much you loved him while you rode him. And that was the thing that always tugged at Bradley's mind and heart; even when the sex was dirty or you were arguing with each other or you made each other mad, there was always a fundamental undercurrent of sweetness in everything. And he needed that forever.

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

Bradley woke up to an empty bed on Saturday morning, but he could smell something delicious cooking.

He hopped out of bed and made his way into the main living area, past what was left of your unpacked boxes and bins. He found you cooking an omelet in one of his oversized tees while you talked on the phone. A little trail of hot sauce bottles was lined up along the counter, and he smiled fondly at them.

He stood still in the doorway, your back turned to him as you said, "I probably sound happy, because I am happy, mom..... Yeah, all my stuff is moved in, I just need to unpack today and tomorrow..... Maria's new roommate is moving in today, so Bradley and I had to move fast last night..... Yeah, he's great, mom. The house is so tidy, I feel bad messing it up!... Mmhmm, we're still coming for Christmas. I just bought the tickets. I'll email you the info so dad can pick us up from the airport..... I don't know what to tell you to get him for Christmas. I don't even know what I should get him!"

You turned and jumped a bit when you saw him standing there before you shuffled over and leaned against his chest. "Yeah, mom, sounds good. I'll call back tomorrow when dad's home, okay? Love you."

"Morning, Sweetheart."

"Were you eavesdropping, Roo? Trying to figure out what I'm getting you for Christmas?"

Bradley pulled you into his arms. "While I must admit I am curious about that, I woke up and you weren't in bed and I missed you."

You smiled brightly up at him. "I'm making you breakfast. You need to stop eating those frozen meals and picking up takeout all the time."

He leaned down and kissed you softly. "If you cook me something, I will eat it, no questions asked. I love everything you make. And I will clean up the kitchen every time."

"Jesus, Roo, that's some panty dropping shit right there," you groaned. "I love watching you clean the kitchen, it's so fucking sexy, I could get off to it."

Bradley's head tipped back and he laughed, holding you against him.

"I'm not even kidding, because half the time you do it in just your underwear. It's hot as hell."

He looked down at you and smiled. "Let's eat, Sweetheart. Then you can watch me clean up, and then we can see how sturdy the new table is."

Turns out, the table was very sturdy. Bradley picked it out, in part, because it looked like it could take a bit of a beating. He had you splayed out naked on your back, with your ankles on his shoulders. You were shaking your head back and forth, moaning his name over and over as he stroked your clit with his thumb. He hadn't even entered you yet, and you were soaking wet and ready to come for him. God, you looked so fucking pretty as he slipped his fingers inside you and bent them at just the right angle before fucking you with them.

Your hands went to your breasts, and he was mesmerized as you squeezed and fondled yourself, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you arched your back. "Bradley," you whined. "Fuck me."

This couldn't really be his life. There was no way. Homemade breakfast? Cooked by a sinfully hot woman wearing just his shirt? And then sex on the dining room table? He loved this, loved you.

"Bradley! Please! I want you to fuck me," you literally begged as you looked up at him and bit your lip.

"I'll never get tired of hearing you say that, Baby Girl," he whispered, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips before he fucked you until you screamed.

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

You had him completely sidetracked again. He was supposed to be putting a coffee table together, but you had lured him into the shower with you. He was helpless to turn you down, especially when you offered to wash his hair for him.

"We should make a grocery list. And later, after we finish shopping, I'm going to let you help me cook Marry Me Rooster for dinner."

"Sounds ideal, Sweetheart" he agreed, practically panting as you ran your shampoo covered fingers slowly through his hair and pressed little kisses to his collarbone.

"It will be. And don't forget, you agreed to let me pay for all of our groceries while I'm living here."

Bradley's brow scrunched up. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

"Well you sure did, Roo. You agreed with me when I mentioned it directly after I gave you a blowjob last weekend."

Bradley met your smirking gaze and gulped as he thought back to that particular encounter. "Are you referring to the blowjob you gave me where I titty fucked you halfway through before you finished me off with your mouth?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, rinsing the shampoo from his hair and trailing your fingers down the back of his neck. "Pretty sure I could have made you agree to anything in that moment, so be thankful it's just the groceries, yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed, knowing he'd been beaten on this particular topic.

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

On Sunday night, when you had finished reheating the leftover Marry Me Rooster for dinner, Bradley was standing behind you kissing your exposed neck.

"I'm so happy you're here, Sweetheart."

"Me too, Roo," you told him, taking his hand in yours and leading him toward the table that he would always associate with making love to you.

"I'm gonna love you forever. You know that, right?" he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

You snuggled against his chest and smiled up at him. "Yeah, I know."

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

Thanks for reading along! Several more one-shots of these two beauties, and then another series filled with smut, fluff and angst.

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader #rooster #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x you

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unhappycylinder · 8 months

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Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fem!Reader) Pt. 8

wc: 3.3k

Warnings: Jake being an idiot, cursing, Gabby and Rooster being adorable,

Series Masterlist

“Gabby I just don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into the phone, “I know he said that stuff to push me away, I know it's not how he really feels, but what kind of person can say that to someone they love? He probably doesn’t even love me…”

“Y/n don’t say that,” Gabby’s comforting voice brought more tears to your eyes, “you know he loves you, we all do, but you gotta remember its Hangman we’re talking about. He doesn’t know how to love someone this much. He’s from Texas, he doesn’t know how to have feelings.”

You laughed, wiping away your tears that had pooled in the crease of your nose, “very fair.”

“I’m so sorry he did this…” Gabby stuttered, “I have no idea why. We talked to him just the same day he called you, like literally hours before, and he told Rooster that he believed in you guys…”

That only made you sob harder, “then which one is it?” You coughed, the emotions overloading you to the point you thought you might throw up.

“Sweetheart oh my god,” Gabby’s heart broke for you, and her blood ran cold thinking of Hangman and how he could hurt you like this, “I don’t think you should be alone right now”

“There’s nothing I can do about that Gabby. It’s a long weekend, I have no friends here who know anything about my personal life, I have no money to go anywhere, I’m stuck,” you ranted to her.

“Alright then I’m flying you down”

“What?” You squeaked, “Gabby you’re not doing that”

“Yeah I am,” she pulled out a computer and started typing, you just stared at her dumbfounded over the phone, “send me your TSA number honey, we’re getting you out of there”

“Gabby,” you ran your hands over your forehead, “a flight to San Diego would be like $400 this last minute, it's ridiculous. I’ll be fine, I’m not-”

“Y/n just hush. You’re my best friend, you need support, and I need to see you. Plus, my husband’s in the military, I get flight discounts, and I have access to his credit card and he’s gonna be away at sea so who’s gonna know”

“You’ve got this deployment thing down don’t you,” you laughed at her

“We’ve only been married a few months but I’ve been with this idiot for years, and not once has he questioned why thousands of dollars leave his bank account every time he goes away. Honestly I don’t think he’s smart enough to remember how much money he had before he left…” She rambled while she booked your flight, “Can you be at the airport at 6 tomorrow? Direct flight to San Diego at 8:30…Roo and I can pick you up?”

“Gabby, I mean this sincerely, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you smiled at her,

“Suffer…probably,” she giggled, making you laugh too.

“Thank you Gabby, you’re the best”

“I know I am,” she flipped her hair, “anyway I gotta go soak up some Rooster time before he leaves for forever…”

You giggled, “I don’t want to know details…I’ll see you tomorrow, love you!”

“Love you more, go get some sleep, and don’t forget about your flight please!”

You blew her a kiss before hanging up. Luckily, the emotions from Jake’s phone call had drained you for the day, and you fell asleep pretty easily after the talk with Gabby. After all, you had a flight to catch in the morning.

—

“You better give me a big hug right now,” Gabby said as she walked towards you, arms wide open, as you exited the airport and the warm California air hit your face. Your lip quivered at the sight of your best friend, your tired arm threatening to drop your duffel bag as you embraced her and let your tears flow.

“You’re okay sweetie, you’re here now,” Gabby comforted you as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you sobbed out, “I’m so happy to be here”

“Awww, I know,” she pulled away and grabbed your face, the widest smile across hers.

“Ladies, this is cute and all,” Rooster yelled from the car, “but this is 5 minute parking and this pilot isn’t looking to get banned from the airport anytime soon…”

“Oh calm down pendejo,” Gabby grabbed your bag from you and threw it into the trunk of the car.

Sliding into the back seat of the car, you caught Rooster’s apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror, the sorrow in his eyes nearly making you break down again.

“Still haven’t heard anything from Hangman?” He asked, the bronco slowly moving out of the line of cars waiting to pick up passengers.

“Ay!” Gabby exclaimed, slapping the back of his head.

“What?” Rooster threw a hand up in defense, hunching over the steering wheel to avoid his wife’s swing.

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” Gabby hissed before turning around to face you, “I’m sorry honey, Mexico did a number on his brain apparently,” she joked as she muttered curses in Spanish to herself. Gabby and Rooster had just returned from a short but sweet honeymoon in Mexico, of which you heard many….maybe too many…intimate tales.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “um I haven’t heard from him.”

Gabby and Rooster shared a knowing glance.

“Not to keep making you guys play middleman but…have you heard anything?”

“Um…” they both said in unison while staring at each other.

“You can tell me, guys, I’m pretty sure I’d rather know than not.”

Rooster sighed before turning to his wife, who then turned back around to face you.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you this cause I didn’t want you to get anxious,”

Too late, you thought to yourself.

“Jake knows you’re here…”

“Oh?” You felt a punch in your gut, the feeling of anxiety creeping into your throat as Gabby watched you process, “does he-”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” Gabby placed her hand on your knee, “you’re here to relax, not appease him. We’ll answer any questions you have of course, but I want you to spend this weekend how you want to, no matter what, okay?”

You sighed, questions and concerns filling your mind, “Okay,” you shook your head. Relaxing was probably the last thing you could do right now.

—

“I think I need to see him,” you muttered as Gabby helped you put your toiletries away in the guest bathroom.

Gabby sighed, “okay, whatever you want, but do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, is it? Did he say anything about wanting to see me?” You reclined against the bathroom counter, arms folding across your chest.

“Of course he did, Y/n, he feels like shit for breaking up with you, I know he regrets it. Rooster said his flying’s been off the past couple days, says he’s been extra dangerous, whatever that means.”

“Shit,” you panicked at the thought of him burning in, “yeah I need to talk to him”

“I’ll call him then, let him know to come by?” Gabby asked, waiting for you to decide where you wanted to meet him.

“I think I’ll just walk to his place,” you said mindlessly.

“Babe that's like a mile from here, why would you do that?”

“Give myself time to think of what to say? Time to abort the mission?” You sighed, leaving the bathroom to begin your pilgrimage to Jake’s.

“Alright, well, let me know if you need us to pick you up. I love you!”

“Love you too, wish me luck,” you yelled from the stairwell before departing.

—

Hovering your fist over Jake’s door, reality finally hit and anxiety flooded your body as you contemplated what the hell you were doing at Jake’s door three days before he deployed.

“Y/n what the fuck?” You whispered, fist returning to your side as you promptly marched down his driveway, praying he hadn’t noticed you there.

He had.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice muttered from behind you, the Texan drawl of the man you loved barely identifiable over your own whispers. Stopping dead in your tracks, the anxiety bubbled up once again and this time threatened tears from your eyes. With a deep breath you turned around to see him.

Jake stood shirtless in his doorway, grey sweatpants clinging to his hips, his hair spiked and disheveled. The home behind him was dark, no blinds open to let in the midday sun of San Diego, and likely no ventilation for the better part of the last couple days. His eyes blinked rapidly as he adjusted to the light, the hand not clasping the doorknob shielding his green orbs as he trailed up your figure.

“Hey,” you croaked, tears beginning to slowly track your cheekbones. You didn’t move at all, you stood static on his driveway, arms crossed in front of you in a shallow attempt to comfort yourself.

“Come in baby,” he said groggily, breaking your heart to hear him call you such a loving nickname in such a tender way. The tears grew more frequent as you shook your head and walked towards him, arms still crossed until you reached the doorway and stood mere inches from him.

He was impossible to read, but the one emotion you could identify was sympathy. Even Hangman, the hard-to-crack fighter pilot with confirmed kills, couldn’t stand to watch the woman who owned his heart stand in front of him shaking with sadness that he caused. You reached up to wipe away your tears, closing your eyes briefly, and just then you felt his strong arms around you. Jake pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck and stroking your back with his strong hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. You cried harder, eliciting a grunt and sigh from him as the consequences of his actions finally caught up with his emotions.

“The things I said to you were-” he lifted up his head and stared upwards, searching for words, you remained nestled into his chest as you cried, “they were appalling. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything after Rooster told me you were here, I should have tried to see you. I just didn’t know what you’d want…”

“Jake-” you cut him off, peeling yourself off his bare chest to gaze into his eyes which were now also brimming with tears, “we need to talk about this stuff”

He nodded. You needed answers, he needed reassurance, talking was the only thing you could do. He let go of you and welcomed you into the house. Just as you had expected, he hadn’t opened a single window in the whole home, the air stagnant and dark, and the smell of dirty dishes beginning to creep through the building. You walked over to his couch, sitting down on the warm fabric that had obviously been the host of his body for the past couple days. He sat next to you, knees barely grazing yours as you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Jake, do you remember what you told me on the beach at the beginning of the summer?”

“That I loved you?”

The past tense stung.“No, the part about you burning in, about what Phoenix was saying about you being safer…”

“Oh,” he glanced downwards, “yeah I do”

“Jake, you told me that you were flying safe because you were scared of losing me, that you were scared you’d miss out on our life, on our memories. You told me you wanted to see where we end up, and that our love motivated you to be a better pilot,” you fiddled with his fingers as you spoke, “and Rooster told me you haven’t been flying safe lately,” your throat choking up the more you thought of him being careless, “and I just don’t get why,” you finally sobbed.

The sound of your voice breaking finally brought Jake’s attention to you, concern and pity filling his eyes as he watched you struggle to explain yourself.

“I don’t get why you push me away. I don’t get why you tell me one thing and then do another. I don’t get why you put yourself in danger for no reason, why you put your career and your life on the line….to what? To prove some point?” Tears pooled on your cheeks while your eyes searched the room for some semblance of comfort. “The things you said when you broke up with me hurt, they hurt me to my core, but the thought of you throwing your life away out of spite hurts even more.”

Jake was speechless, his green eyes glassy under scrunched eyebrows as he finally felt the pain you had been enduring because of him.

“The life I want is the life I share with you. And I went into this relationship knowing distance and deployment and all that shit would be a factor. You did too. I’m prepared to go through anything for you…because I want those memories, Jake. I want to hold you and kiss you and dream of you while you’re gone. I want to move into your stupidly undecorated house on base when I graduate and be here for you every night when you come home,” you gestured to his bare walls, eliciting a small chuckle and nod from the hard-to-crack military man who had tears dropping from his eyes.

“God Jake the love I feel for you is endless. I gave you my heart, I gave you myself, don’t give those things back to me.” You stopped talking, the emotions overwhelming you to the point where you removed your hand from his and tucked your knees up in front of you, bundling yourself into a ball while Jake processed everything you said.

“I think…” he began, his eyes searching every part of the room except where you were, “I think we should take some time to think about all this,” he slowed down as he said the last few words.

Your tears dried up, shock overtaking the sadness. You didn’t expect this, you didn’t expect him to mean the things he said, to mean that he didn’t want to be with you.

“So you meant it?” You questioned, eyes finally meeting his.

“What?” He asked quietly

“You meant the things you said. The things about us? About me?”

“No, Y/n. I’m sorry for the things I said to you. They were hurtful and wrong and downright disrespectful. You’re a sweetheart and I’m sorry. I just mean I don’t think it's smart for us to jump into things right now, not with my deployment and your school.”

“What are you saying,” you cut him off.

“I think maybe we should just wait to date or something, til I’m back…”

“Jake,” your voice cracked, “I can’t do that,” you sobbed.

“You don’t think it's a good idea?” He asked earnestly.

“I’m gonna be waiting for you either way. I’d rather be waiting as your girlfriend than just some girl who's heartbroken and doesn’t even know if the man she loves loves her back.”

“You’re not some girl, Y/n, you’re my girl,” he rubbed your arm.

Shrugging him off as the confusion overwhelmed you, “no I’m not Jake. You broke up with me, you told me we should wait. Those don’t exactly go hand in hand with being ‘your girl,” you stood up to leave, he stared at you bewildered, “I’m leaving. You need to make up your mind, I’m tired of being confused about how you feel about me.”

You walked through the dark house to his door, opening it and letting the harsh California light hit the living room where he still sat on the couch, eyes never leaving your frame.

“Good luck on your deployment, Jake,” and with that you took one last look at him and left the house, closing the door behind him. As you walked away, you held out for the possibility that he would open the door and come running out with an apology. But he didn’t. You walked the whole way back to Gabby’s without a word…without an ounce of clarity…just confusion like you had never felt before.

—

The remainder of the weekend went by without a word from Jake. Occasional glances from Rooster after he got a text or got off the phone let you know that, per usual, you were the only person out of the loop when it came to your relationship issues. Nevertheless, going through this breakup without Gabby would have been impossible, and her support meant the world to you.

Monday came around and it was time for the pilots to leave. The debate of whether or not to go had lived in the back of your mind for the better part of the weekend, eating away at you when you tried to close your eyes. Ultimately, after lots and lots of thinking, you had decided not to go for multiple reasons. For one, it gave Gabby and Rooster time alone during a special moment…and it also gave you the upper hand over Hangman. Despite what he told you, you knew Jake, and you knew he’d expect you to be there to wave him off.

“You sure you don’t want to come, honey?” Rooster asked you as he walked by the couch where you reclined in their living room, dressed in his flight suit.

“Yeah I’m sure,” you sighed, sitting up to face him. “I know he’s gonna expect me to be there. And I want to be there for him…but I can’t let myself keep getting hurt. I can’t let him know that he can keep hurting me and I’ll come crawling back…”

“You know, as much as I love Jake, and as long as I’ve known him,” Rooster began, “I think you’re doing the right thing. You’re showing him you’re prioritizing yourself, which is important. He’s an asshole, he needs to be put in his place.”

“He is an asshole isn’t he,” you and Rooster laughed together.

“Alright honey,” Rooster ruffled your hair, the nickname he always called you by making you smile, “I’m outta here. I’ll keep my lips sealed to Jake for a bit, but you know how to reach me if you want me to tell him anything, okay?”

He grabbed his bags, “or if you just want to chat, I’d like that too.”

“Bradley!” Gabby’s piercing voice ran out from upstairs, “we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry the fuck up!”

“Down here, baby!” He yelled back.

Gabby came running downstairs, “You’re ready before me?” She asked out of breath.

“Yeah?” Rooster said sassily, “why are you so shocked by that?”

You giggled at the couple, making Gabby sneer at you.

“Don’t you dare laugh with him,” she pointed at you, making you and Rooster laugh harder. She sighed before walking down and embracing her husband.

“You can’t wear this flight suit in the home, Brashdaw, otherwise you’ll be late to everything…” she flirted before kissing him, his hands gripping her hips.

“I love you, Gabby,” he kissed her again.

“Y'all are gonna make me throw up, go get on a boat or something Roo,” you pretended to gag as you got up from the couch.

“Bye Y/n,” Rooster said, letting go of Gabby briefly to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead, “don’t be a stranger”

“Back at ya.” you gave him a smile, “don’t like die or anything….Gabby would kill you”

Your friend laughed, giving you a brief nudge before opening the front door for Rooster. She shot you a quick wink before closing the door behind her, the sound of the bronco starting not long after.

And with that, you sat back down on the couch, left with your own thoughts and the slightest feeling of regret and worry beginning…what if you never got to say goodbye?

Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230

#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun hangman #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman x reader

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multifandomfanfiction · 2 years

Text

Two Ghosts Chapter 9

TITLE: Two Ghosts Chapter 9 PAIRING: Iceman/OC, Rooster/OC (if you squint) RATING: T CHAPTER: 9/? SUMMARY: It was just a routine training session, but it changed Noel “Mongoose” Grenier’s life forever. The legends of pilots flying through time vortexes was true, because it happened to her. Dropped into 1984 during Maverick’s Top Gun training, she must navigate keeping her secret while also completing the program…again. Will she return to her own time unscathed? Or will she lose her heart in the process?

“Dagger one is hit!” Maverick said.

A second later they heard Rooster’s voice. “Dagger two is hit!”

“Spare Dagger requesting permission to assist,” Hangman asked.

“Permission denied.”

They tried reaching the two on the comms, but there was no answer. They had no way of knowing whether Rooster and Maverick had ejected or survived.

Eventually Hangman was granted permission to go and look for them. After about an hour, Hangman landed back on deck and descended the ladder of his jet. He walked over to Mongoose.

“Jake, where’s Roo?” she asked him.

Hangman’s green eyes were misty with tears. “I…I’m so sorry Noel.”

“No, no.” Mongoose felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

He couldn’t be gone.

There was no way.

“ROOSTER!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mongoose shot up in her bed, breathing hard. A few seconds later, there was a knock on her door. She got up and answered it.

Iceman stood there. “Ice?”

“You okay? I heard you screaming.”

“I’m fine.”

He gave her look that said he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press her. He entered her room and laid down on her bed. “Come here.”

Mongoose curled up next to him with her head on his chest while he played with the ends of her hair.

“Noel?” he asked.

“Yes, Tom?”

“Are you in love with Rooster?”

Mongoose sat up and looked down at him.

“It’s just…the way you talk about him…”

Mongoose laughed. “Me? And Rooster? Rooster is my wingman, but I’m not in love with him.”

“You just woke up yelling his name.”

Was she in love with Rooster? She cared about him deeply, but she wasn’t sure she’d call it love. “Ice…”

Iceman sat up. “I care about you Noel, but if you’re in love with another man…”

Mongoose shook her head and cupped Iceman’s face in her hands. “There is no other man but you, Ice. I promise.”

Mongoose couldn’t say she loved Iceman, because she didn’t know if she did but he had taken up residence in her heart like Rooster, Hangman, and the rest of the Dagger squadron.

Just as Mongoose was leaning forward to kiss him, someone knocked the door. Mongoose got up and answered it.

It was Jester.

“Sir,” Mongoose said.

“Maverick’s asking for you.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, sir.”

Jester nodded and walked away.

Mongoose turned to Iceman. “Do you wanna come with me?”

Iceman shook his head. “I’m sure I’m the last person he’s gonna want to see.”

Mongoose walked over to the bed and kissed him before leaving. “You’re my pilot, Ice. Never forget that.”

Iceman smirked. “Your pilot? I think I like the sound of that.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mongoose entered the hospital on base and was directed to Maverick’s room.

He was sitting in the hospital bed, eyes rimmed with red and flushed cheeks.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “He…Goose is…”

“I know. God, I’m so sorry, Pete.”

Tears filled Maverick’s eyes.

She knew how he was feeling right now. She’d felt the same waiting for news about him and Rooster.

“I guess this means you can have your old callsign back.”

Mongoose knew he was hurting because he was trying to use humor to cope. Rooster did the same thing.

She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him.

Maverick completely lost it at the gesture of affection.

Mongoose felt a little weird comforting her mentor, but she held him as he cried and stroked his hair.

Maverick’s sobs quieted and he pulled away from her, wiping his face.

“What are you gonna do now?” Mongoose asked him.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know if I can fly without him.”

Mongoose would have offered to be his RIO, but she was never trained. She wouldn’t know what she was doing.

She took his hand in hers. “I’m here for you, Mav.”

Maverick gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Mi…Mongoose.”

Taglist: @indynerdgirl @alanadetigy @the-untamed-soul @marland56 @ireadthensuetheauthors @kassieesworld @theforevermorereject @maverick-dont-think-just-do @thescarletknight2014 @maverick-goose-rooster @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @yougottalovefandoms @maverick-wingman @shrimping-for-all

#tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky imagines #iceman/oc #pete maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell imagines #top gun #top gun imagines

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jungle-angel · 2 years

Note

Hi! I have a request! (Possible TW) Reader and Rooster (or Bob) go on holiday with there son and the plane is going down but reader and Rooster are pilots so they help and it’s fluff at the end. Thank you for reading this and have a good day/night!

Aw yiiiiiiisss!!!!!! Babes, I just watched the Air Disasters Documentary a while back so this is PERFECT!!!

Miami, Florida

Memorial Day Weekend, 2022

You and Rooster were eager to get home, more than you had ever been. Sure Miami was great, but you, Rooster and Nicky were completely exhausted.

"God, I'm hoping it's not much longer," Rooster said as Nicky buried his face into Rooster's neck. "Feels like we've been waiting here forever."

"Well, it comes with travel Roo," you told him. "Remember when you and the rest of the guys went to Bethesda for two weeks?"

Rooster made a face. "Don't even fucking remind me."

"Hey," you scolded. "Little ears, remember? He's at an age where he repeats everything."

Rooster laughed a little when at last, the call for boarding was issued. All they'd have to do was board the next flight in Jacksonville and then it was home free.

"C'mon buddy," Rooster said as he hoisted Nicky a little higher onto his hip and pulling his suitcase behind him. "We're gonna get home so you can go to sleep."

Nicky lifted his head just a little and lowered it back down onto Rooster's shoulder. Families with small children were called to board first along with active duty military, which you and Rooster were both. One of the female flight attendants couldn't help but tell you how adorable Nicky was and how much he looked like Rooster.

You two stowed away the luggage in the overhead and took your seats, placing Nicky between you both and buckling each other in. Everyone else boarded soon after and once seated, the plane sped down the runway and lifted off into the air.

It hadn't been long, only about forty five minutes into the flight, when you suddenly began to get the sense that something was wrong. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you knew something was terribly wrong. The whole plane seemed quiet with everyone either asleep, reading or watching a quick in flight movie. So what was the big deal then?

You smelled something seeping in through the windows, something acrid, almost as though it was burning.......smoke.

"Rooster?" you hissed, shaking your sleeping husband's shoulder. "Bradley!"

"Huh? Wassup?"

"Something's wrong," you told him. "I can smell it."

Rooster sniffed the air a little, going wide eyed as soon as he smelled it. "What the hell is that?"

"I don't know but......"

The alarms on the plane started to go off, the concerned whispers buzzing about like crickets.

"Hang on one second," Rooster told you as he unbuckled and headed up to the cockpit.

You stayed with Nicky as Rooster made his way up to the front to the cockpit where the pilots were trying to figure out what was going on. "Talk to me guys, what's going on?"

"Why should we talk to you?" questioned a much younger pilot.

"Because I'm a fucking pilot like you," Rooster told him sharply.

"You think you can help us?" the older pilot asked.

"Yeah just give me one second," Rooster told him.

He went back to your row and immediately asked you to come to the front, trying to conceal the panic he felt. An older woman had offered to watch Nicky, assuring you that it was ok......and that everyone would be ok.

"Alright, what's the sitch?" you asked.

"Engine's blown out and we're not near any major airports," the older pilot said, rather shakily.

"How are we on fuel?" Rooster asked.

"We're burning fast," the pilot answered.

The plane lurched forward, prompting a few startled screams from the passengers. You and Rooster tried to still your nerves and racing minds, but the thought of panicking was still there. Rooster gave you a determined nod before the two of you asked to take the pilots' places.

"You guys had better buckle in," you told them. "Just in case things get hairy."

The two buckled into the small alcove seats away from the controls while you and Rooster began to plan the course of action. "Talk to me (y/n), what've we got?"

"Fuel's burning fast and like he said, we're not near any major airports," you told him nervously.

"Any idea where we are?"

"We're right above The Everglades," you answered.

"Oh shit," Rooster groaned.

Another alarm suddenly went off, sending you both spiraling into a full fledged panic. You knew what that alarm had meant.....you'd seen it in training with Phoenix and Bob.

"We're losing hydraulic power!"

"Turning on emergency power."

"Left engine out."

"Electrical power in left engine down!"

Rooster felt his skin going clammy and his heart leaping right into his throat. "Shit! Steering is almost out!"

You two didn't have a choice. If you kept trying to fly the plane it wouldn't end well at all, not for you and certainly not for the passengers.

"We're gonna have to ditch," you told Rooster.

"What?!"

"We need to ditch in the water, it's the only way to land safely."

Rooster gripped your hand tight in his. He didn't want to do it either.....but it was the only way.

"Talk to me Dad," he prayed. "Guide us down."

The captain made an announcement, telling everybody to buckle in immediately. You and Rooster prayed not just for yourselves, but for Nicky and everybody else.

The swamps hovered further towards the plane.........

*CRASH!!!!!*

The plane skidded into the swamp water, kicking it up into a dirty, white spray before it halted. You and Rooster opened your clenched eyes, amazed that you and every passenger aboard was alive. You two were practically sobbing with relief, throwing your arms around each other before making your way to find Nicky.

The rubber slides had already rolled out and the emergency exits opened, the engine in the left wing of the plane still burning. You grabbed Nicky and made your way out with Rooster, sliding right onto the squidgy, marshy ground. You and Rooster were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed with relief that you were alive. Nicky cried, but you and Rooster did your best to try and calm him down.

The loud rev of an airboat caught your attention when it zipped around the corner, kicking up another wave of white water before it pulled to a stop. "Hey you guys lookin for a lift?!"

You and Rooster squinted a little in the moonlight, barely making out the figures in the dark. "Holy shit!!" Rooster exclaimed. "Joe?!"

Joe, Bob, Phoenix and her husband Cole and Cole's grandfather, Billy, all hopped off the airboat and began helping with whatever they could. "Saw you guys coming down from a mile away," Joe remarked.

"How'd you know?" you asked him.

"We went out on a snake hunt earlier," Bob answered. "Dad and us must've bagged at least four hundred dollars worth of those invasive pythons people are always hunting."

"Anything we can do to help?" Phoenix asked.

"Maybe give us all a lift?" Rooster asked.

"Done deal."

Word got back from them to Billy quicker than they could imagine before he had managed to round up most of the neighbors to give people a lift back into town so they could call their families. As you, Nicky and Rooster rode on the airboat back to Billy's cabin, you huddled close together, unimaginably grateful not just for having survived......but for each other.

#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #robert bob floyd #joe floyd #natasha phoenix trace

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ectoplasmer · 2 years

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aaand onto ghost boy!! who actually only has two ghost types… oops

(left to right, up to down: Mimikyu, Espurr (M), Gogoat, Noivern, Mawile, Banette)

I feel like Mimikyu should be pretty self explanatory ^^ It’s a ghost/fairy type, which I can’t not see Ryou being ecstatic over. While it’s Pikachu disguise does come off as creepy to other people + pokémon alike, I think he would actually find it rather charming and cute!! The little thing is a little creepy but that just makes Ryou like it more ^^ also… it’s Z-Move being called “Let’s Snuggle Forever” would probably be really funny to him lol

Just look at Espurr’s blank stare and tell me that isn’t a pokémon Ryou would have. You can’t ):( in multiple pokédex entries this specific species is described as constantly holding back very powerful psychic powers and being upset over the fact it can’t control it. Ryou would probably identify with it a little (cough millennium ring cough) and try to befriend one.

Gogoat is described as being one of the first pokémon to live in harmony with humans, and it has an overall calm demeanor and empathetic behavior. Apparently it can sense the feelings of people who grip it’s horns, and that allows it and it’s trainer to move as one when being used for transportation. Think like… Mountain Banshees in Avatar lol. I think Ryou would find these buddies to be really neat, and probably appreciate how calm they are.

Noivern. Bat. What else is needed to be said?? the pokédex makes this species out to be edgy as hell but Ryou deserves a cool + edgy pokémon I think.

I chose Mawile mainly because I wanted him to have a few fairy types on his team, and also because I think it’s stance as the deceiver pokémon would be interesting in combination with roo. It appears harmless but it’s actually pretty dangerous, with the jaws being able to “…turn a boulder into dust” with one gnash. Ryou would get an absolute kick out of that.

Lastly but not least… Banette!! I felt like I needed to add at least one more ghost type, so I went with Banette. It’s pokédex entries talk about how it used to be an abandoned doll before malice took it over and made it sentient, and that reminds me a ton of the Cursed Twin Dolls. It’s just another pokémon I think Ryou would find creepy and therefore cool, and I think it matches his vibes pretty well.

#was very tempted to put jirachi and/or clefable on here but o_o must. hold back impulses >_<#was going for a creepy cute feeling with this team but i think i overdid it on the latter lol #think his team would be full of small but deadly monsters not gonna lie #he’d call them cute while they’re trying to nip off his fingers lol #spookyshipping #misc.#rainy.file #pmons.exe

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

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DaveFarts - Episode 0 “Dave, My Best Friend” [Episode List] Tim is 20-something (secretly) gay guy that also has a fart fetish, but he lives a generally normal life, hanging out with friends etc. He also shares a very strong friendship with Dave (who’s straight), a brother-like figure to him and also his best friend. But when Dave finds out that Tim has different “interests”, things get stinky (literally) and their friendship is put on test.

This can be considered the “pilot” episode of the series. It was first posted in Summer 2014 on a fart fetish site.

PART I - Prologue

Hey! My name’s Tim. But let’s just get to the point: I’m gay and I also have a fart fetish.

I don’t even remember how it started.

When friends farts around me, I always pretend to hate that. Well, at first, I did hate that, but the more they farted on/near me, the more I started to enjoy it. It’s weird, I know, but I actually started to like the idea of getting farted on as I got older. YouTube was the first website that “helped” me with my fetish, as I discovered many videos with people farting, realizing that I was not the only one with this fetish.

I am aware that this is not something you can tell everybody, so it’s my deepest and darkest secret.

Not even my best friend, Dave, around my age (we’re both in our 20s -I’m a couple of months younger than him), is aware of my fetish. And that’s a good thing, since I don’t really want to scare him or worse. To be honest, it’s hard to keep a secret like this when Dave is around…

Let’s see.

Dave has always been my best friend since forever. He’s like a brother to me.

While we do share a lot of interests and quirks in our personalities, he’s much more extroverted than me and he also had a couple of girlfriends in the last few years. He’s very open-minded and it’s generally a very nice guy. We’re also quite different physically: I’m not exactly “short”, but Dave is quite taller than me. Also, while he’s not exactly an athlete, he’s generally fitter than me. I guess he was right when he called me “lazy” everytime I refused to follow him to the gym (never mind that he also got tired of that in a month)! Overall, our friendship is still going strong. We hang out a lot with the rest of our friends and we still do those “game-nights” (both retrogaming and recent-gaming -is that the correct word?) like we always used to do when we were younger, just the two of us.

He knows everything about me, except obviously my fart fetish, for obvious reasons. He’s straight and while very open-minded (he has other gay friends), I just don’t want to tell him. But the fact that Dave has always been “the gassy one” in our group of friends is not helping. Normally, you wouldn’t expect a guy like Dave to be “the farter” (in movies or Tvshows, the stinky one is usually -no offence- the fat guy or at least the chubby one), but he’s actually well-known for his blasts of gas since we were teenagers. Even today, when we’re just “all guys, no girls” hanging around or just talking to each other, he says things like (even when he’s the one talking) “Shhhhh… did you hear that?” so that everybody could hear his stinky and loud fart-masterpiece.

Granted, it’s not ALWAYS like that. He’s a funny guy but not rude or immature.

Dave is my best friend and brother-like figure for countless of reasons, but his talent is seriously messing with my head. I’m pretty sure he once told me (during one of our game-nights and right after he made my couch shake with one of his farts) that he could also fart on command.

In recent years I even started imagining him farting in my face; surprisingly, he only farted directly in my head/face a couple of times, but VERY often (like always) in my presence. In fact, our game-nights have always been “fart-nights” too. He’s like a living fart-machine sometimes. I love that, but I don’t want to ruin everything because of a weird boner.

Tonight we’re going to do another game-night. As usual, we will be home alone, in my living room, sitting on the couch, playing videogames, talking, having fun, drinking beer or whatever I have in the fridge, just the two of us. And I know that, tonight, he’s going to fart a lot like always. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t realize that I actually want him to sit on my face and rip one of his loud farts on my nose…

PART II - Dave’s Secret Move

I’ve always been nerd-ish. Nah, I’m a complete nerd when it comes to videogames. I own almost every console made since the 80s. I’m not into the Console War: I’m above it. Nintendo, Sega, Sony, I don’t care. Each of them made incredible games (maybe not always at the same time) and, to be honest, I think they’re some kind of geniuses.

Me and Dave have always been proud gamers and videogaming itself is actually one of the biggest pillars in our friendship. When we do those game-nights, we simply activate our “nerd mode”. Growing up, during the game-nights we also started to drink beer, eating… “food” etc, but the “nerd mode” didn’t change a bit.

The same can be said for Dave’s farts, bigger every year; his farts can be considered some kind of gross “ambient music” for our game-nights. No, seriously. It’s not like we interrupt the gaming for his farts: Dave simply rips them while talking or playing and we both (even me!) ignore it, since it’s perfectly normal by now (we do laugh a bit when the fart gets a bit too loud or long though). He would sometimes say things like “Nobody can escape my farts!” and rip good ones, but other than that, as I said, we just ignore his gas.

Now here I am, alone (my parents are away for a couple of days). A rare “completely-alone” game-night. We can eat, scream, laugh as long as we wish because we’re completely alone for the whole night. As usual, I bought a couple of beers (it’s my turn this time) and around 9,000 tons of junk-food. All of my consoles are waiting for us in my living room, right in front of the couch, with a big HD Tvscreen above them: one big Cathedral of Videogaming made possible by my maniacal money-saving habits.

Eventually, Dave finally arrived, late as usual (around 15 minutes late, but that’s OK, we have the whole night).

He bought more beers and junk food and looked more excited than me. We’re in our 20s but those game-nights keep getting better and better, a nice break from our usual “young adult” stuff.

It was almost summer, so it was not a cold night. I was simply wearing a white shirt and sweatpants. Dave was a bit more “complex”: he had a green shirt instead and was wearing a pair of loose jeans. Dressed like that, and thanks to his shoes, he almost looked like some kind of skater-guy, even though he was not (he did try once! -and about one broken leg later, he gave up).

“Stop eating that. Your boyfriends are waiting for us!”

Dave was already sitting on his side of the couch. The “boyfriends” are, obviously, my consoles. I stopped eating chips and all that junk that was in the kitchen and I sat on my side of the couch, bringing two beers. We immediately started to play mindlessly, chatting about various stuff, videogames, exams, even politics sometimes. Typical game-night.

After one hour, I felt a vibration on my side of the couch. It was always a nice surprise to hear Dave’s farts. I quickly looked at him, farting like it was none of his business. It lasted around 5 seconds and it was great. He did smile a bit and we both laughed. He looked at me, smiling: he was a proud farter. As I said, typical game-night.

After a couple of minutes we eventually got very involved in one fighting, Mortal Kombat-ish videogame. I was beating him and I almost thought the he just didn’t want to play anymore and he was still holding his joypad to make me happy; not at all: it was serious business to him.

“You’re cheating, right?” he asked.

“No, you’re just a scrub…” I replied, with a grin.

“How dare you?!”

During one match I was actually struggling but I could beat him one more time. We both laughed as I punched him more and more: he was my b*tch (in the videogame at least). Dave laughed as he slowly got up, still playing the videogame.

“Dude! What are you doing?!” I asked.

“I’m unlocking a secret move!” he said, laughing.

After a few seconds, I could feel a hand gently pulling my head: it was Dave’s left hand. I didn’t realize what was happening at first, until I ended up with my head completely planted in Dave’s butt in loose jeans. It was soft and I felt the rough surface of his jeans in my face, still quite smelly for his previous fart. I was still holding my joypad and I could hear him laugh a bit. I felt his muscles relaxing as his hand was now pushing my face in his butt.

And then the fart began.

And I couldn’t believe it.

Time seemed to slow down as I felt an earthquake all over my face. My ears almost exploded as I heard this loud, deep chainsaw-like noise. The smell immediately engulfed my defenseless nose. I tried to look up as the fart was still blasted in my face: all I saw was was a glimpse of the Dave’s belt (right above the jeans) and his green shirt (and the rest of his butt of course). I then closed my eyes as the sound was still ear-shattering. His left hand was still pushing me. It was long, loud. It was awesome. After 6 seconds, the fart was still going strong. Despite that loud noise, I could hear Dave laugh a bit. At this point I didn’t even realize that I was still holding the joypad or that there was a videogame on. All I could see was Dave’s butt in my face. After 5 more seconds, the fart started to fade out, ending with a funny duck-like sound. My friend’s hand gently pushed me on the couch.

The TvScreen was showing a “Player 2 - Wins!” sign: Dave won. Still standing up, he turned around, with a smirk, and as he saw my dazed face, he bursted into a laugh, while collapsing on the couch, making even me bounce a bit.

The smell was still there, all over my face. I could still hear that beautiful sound in my ears. I couldn’t believe it: Dave, my best friend, ripped one of his well-known enormous farts in my face.

“Sorry man! You know, nobody can escape my farts!” - he said, laughing - “That was my secret move!”

I immediately “woke up” and quickly thought what to say. Still dazed, I just wanted to say “Amazing fart, Dave!”, but I couldn’t. Not me, at least. Not even sarcastically.

“Let’s just hope that you don’t know any other secret move” - I said. Brilliant. He will never know I loved it.

We both laughed. But he laughed a bit longer than me.

He was just smiling now, looking at me with a smirk. Still sitting, he slightly lifted his butt in my direction, ripping another loud fart. It was not very long this time, but seeing both his face and his butt farting was incredibly beautiful. He laughed again.

In the meantime, I grabbed the nearest pillow and I used it to hide the biggest boner I ever had.

I didn’t want to “f*ck” Dave or anything: it was his farts that made me… excited.

I thought I made it, but Dave wasn’t stupid. He knew I was hiding something.

Still smiling, he got up and then sat on the small coffee table, almost in front of me. He looked serious but also amused. He didn’t say a word for almost a minute, like he was waiting for something. I tried to ignore this whole situation by grabbing my joypad and offering a rematch. But he didn’t move. He wasn’t serious: he just had this amused-ish look on his face.

*Enough with this farce*, I thought.

He knows. Well, at least, he suspects it.

I tried to put myself in his shoes. I imagined myself as a straight guy (like him) and my best friend just had a boner because I farted in his face. I was now scared: there’s no way that Dave was going to accept (or even forgive) me.

I was ashamed. But this time, there was no escape.

I had to tell him.

PART III - Dave’s Talent

“D-Dave… I’m sorry” I said, breaking the silence.

I slowly pushed away the pillow, revealing a tent in my sweatpants.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry!” I said, again, and again.

“Tim…” he replied. I ignored him.

My boner calmed down and I finally got up, like I was still trying to get away from that situation. I started slowly walking around in the living room, while Dave was still sitting on that table, looking at me, puzzled.

“I-I’m sorry! Oh my… I can’t believe this is happening…”

“Tim, listen…”

“No, Dave. No. Why are you even smiling? I-I’m so sorry, Dave.”

Ashamed, I was still walking around, almost panicking, with my hands in my hair. It’s like I was finally realizing what it was happening and it was like living in a nightmare.

My worst nightmare.

Dave was now standing near me as I still said “sorry” over and over. I didn’t have the guts to look at him.

“Tim, I’ve always knew you were-”

“Don’t say it, Dave. Please, not you.” I said. My eyes got wet.

In silence, I sat once again on the couch. I just wanted to wake up from that nightmare. Dave followed me and simply sat on the other side of the couch. The videogame was still saying “Player 2 - Wins!” but we both ignored it.

“Tim, I always knew you were… different” he said.

I looked at him. He was serious, still slightly amused, but he was being serious now.

“Tim. We’ve been hanging out since forever. I know you too well…”

“So… you know” I said, mindlessly grabbing a joypad.

Dave took a big breath (and so did I). He still had that amused-ish look on his face. He wasn’t faking it.

“Come on, Tim. We saw each other naked so many times!” he said, laughing.

I just wanted to die in that moment.

“See? This is why I was keeping it a secret!” I said. “Yes, we saw each other naked. We did a lot of things together. We hugged each other! And now all you can think is that I just want to f*ck you-”

But Dave immediately sat next to me.

And hugged me.

“Tim, see? I’m hugging you! I don’t care! I don’t give a shit about what you’re saying!”

I just stood there, frozen and embarrassed. I gently pushed him away.

“Dave, please, believe me. You’re like a brother to me. Yes, I’m… gay, but I don’t want to f*ck you or-”

“Tim! I don’t care! Nobody cares! I know you don’t want to fuck me! It’s OK!” he said.

Was he accepting me?

“This changes everything” I said.

“This changes nothing, Tim”.

“If you want to leave, I’ll understand. Our friendsh-”

“Tim, please! That’s ridiculous. You’ve always been like… this!” he said, slightly annoyed. “I told you that I always knew you were different, and yet here I am!” - he added.

I took a big breath and looked at him. I couldn’t believe this was happening. This was our final game-night.

“H-How did you find out…?”

“I always suspected it. You’ve always been kind of gay after all…” he said, laughing a bit.

I tried to smile, but I was too ashamed. This whole situation couldn’t possibly get more embarrassing.

“You think that I’ve never noticed your awkward boners in all these years?”

It just did. If there was a bottomless pit in my living room, I would just jump in that, like a suicide-Super Mario.

“Dude, we used to wrestle like idiots!” he said, laughing.

“I-I remember…”

“Of course you do…”

“There. You see? Believe me, I don’t-”

“Tim, I would get a boner too if I was wrestling with a girl!” he said.

“B-but… t-that’s… t-that’s normal…” I replied.

“Please, don’t even start with all of this ‘I’m not normal’-crap…”

As I said, Dave was very open-minded. I knew that he didn’t have any issues with gay guys. But this time, I was the “gay guy”. The fact the he’s always suspected my homosexuality, for some reason, made everything much more embarrassing for me. “Retrospectively” embarrassing -if that makes any sense.

“I-I just don’t want you to see our friendship as one big, long m-misunderstanding…”

“What’s that supposed to mean now? Tim, I said-”

“Dave, please. I’m gay and this is retrospectively embarrassing for both of us”

Dave simply laughed, amused “Retro-what? Are you even listening to yourself?”

“We saw each other naked. We hugged a lot of tim-”

“Tim, please. Not this whole 'hugged you’-thing again. I don’t care!” he said, patiently.

I just didn’t know what to say anymore. I never imagined this to happen anyway, so I wasn’t prepared. Dave, on the other hand, looked much more ready than me. He was not lying: he knew I was different.

“Tim, you’re wasting your game-night. I’m still here, see? I already told you I’ve always suspected it -and I was right. If I ever had any problems with you, I would have ended this friendship a long time ago!” he said. He was serious.

“Dave, I-I…”

“Tim, you’re like a brother to me. Don’t even think to end this friendship because you’re too embarrassed to even look at me! This changes nothing.”

“I-I don’t want to end our-”

“Great, that’s what I want to hear. I swear, don’t even think about it. Do you think you’re the only one who cares about our friendship?” Dave was serious now. “Years ago it was terrible and I didn’t have any real friend until I met you. D-Do you realize how much time we spent together since then? Do you realize that you’re a big part of my life? Do you even realize that when I lost my virginity, you were the first guy I called? And I was already suspecting that you were gay back then!”

I took another deep breath and I looked at my friend. He was serious. He truly cared; I felt bad for a moment: of course he cares! We’ve been best friends for more than a decade.

He then gave me a pat on the shoulder and smiled again.

“Come on… it’s OK, Tim! I know you’re scared, but don’t ruin everything…” he said.

I finally smiled too. “T-Thanks, Dave”

We hugged each other and I almost wanted to cry.

Dave accepted me and, really, nothing changed.

Ironically, our friendship got even stronger after that.

There was a long minute of silence. We simply grabbed our joypads, ready to resume our game-night.

“Oh, Tim…” Dave said.

“What?” I asked.

“I almost forgot…” he said, with a smirk.

Still sitting next to me, I could feel his muscles relaxing once again as I heard it. Another beautiful-sounding fart. The couch was vibrating: it was powerful as usual. While farting, Dave leaned a bit, pointing his butt in my direction. The sound became much more clear and it was amazing. I didn’t know what to do or where to look. I looked at his butt and then his face, smiling at me, amused. After almost 6 seconds, the fart ended, and Dave sat once again normally.

I was speechless. Dave looked at me and laughed again.

I instinctively tried to hide my boner, but that made Dave laugh even more.

“ahah, dude. I knew you were weird too…” he said, smiling at me.

Again, I felt ashamed. I started to say once again “Sorry” and all that stuff.

“That’s disgusting, man” he added. However, he was still smiling.

“Oh my Gosh, Dave. Oh my-” I was almost having a panic attack now.

Dave was just sitting there, next to me, smiling, amused, looking at me. He laughed a bit more.

I could feel the smell around the couch but it wasn’t as bad as you might think, for now at least.

“ahah. You liked it. I knew it!” he said, still laughing. A lot.

I actually smiled a bit too as I realized that he wasn’t really laughing AT me, but WITH me.

“S-Sorry, Dave. Yes I l-liked that…” I said. Very brave of me.

But he became suddenly serious, looking at me annoyed.

“That’s gross, Tim. I really should have ended this friendship years ago, after all…”

I didn’t have the time to feel my heart break in a million pieces as I felt more vibrations instead. Dave tried to keep a serious/angry face as he ripped one more fart next to me, but he eventually lost it and started to laugh again, while still ripping a good one; it was shorter than the previous one, around 4-seconds this time.

The smell was now stronger and so was my boner.

“Sorry, Tim. You know me: nobody can escape my farts!” he said, smiling. He was a proud farter.

We both laughed but there was another awkward silence after that.

“Well, at least I’m glad there’s someone who appreciates my talent ahah!” he jokingly said.

“Yeah. Sorry, man. Can we just pretend nothing happened?” I asked, hoping that he would just ignore my fetish.

“Are you sure? ahah. I’m feeling a big one coming and I don’t really want to waste my gas on this couch…” he said, amused.

I just didn’t know what to say.

“D-Dave, please. You don’t have to”

“Shut up” he said, almost whispering,

I could hear him taking off his shoes. While laying down on the couch, he slowly lifted his legs. His right leg gently brushed against my hair and I could feel him put it between the couch’s seatback and my own back. He then put his other leg on my chest. I was somehow “trapped” between his legs. Dave was taller than me so I had no way to escape in any case: his legs were just too long to avoid.

I felt totally immobilized and I couldn’t move. I looked at him, dazed. He simply smiled at me and laughed a bit.

He made a funny face, like he was saying “Get ready!” and I almost passed out because I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt his legs pulling me under his body. Time seemed to slow down as I noticed that he was also lifting his butt. In a few seconds, he “gently wrestled” me (does it even make sense?) in front of his butt. In that position, his butt looked like a “wall of jeans”. I don’t know how to describe it: his loose jeans made the butt look a lot bigger and my face was nothing compared to that. Dave’s legs were still pulling me down as my face was now only inches away from his butt. I instinctively sniffed a bit and I felt his previous farts’ beautiful smell. Dave laughed again as he gently planted my face in his butt.

“Want to see another secret move?” he asked, laughing.

I couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t even talk or say anything because my face completely planted in his butt. The rough surface of his jeans was tickling my nose and the smell was still there. A few seconds passed and my dick almost exploded when I felt Dave’s butt “growing” and relaxing its muscles.

And then I felt it all over my face.

It was like a blast of wind, an explosion, an earthquake.

Ear-shattering, loud, deep and beautiful: Dave was the fart-master.

I could feel my face vibrate as Dave ripped this fart in my face. The sound was “classic”, it almost sounded like a fake fart, but trust me, it wasn’t. The smell immediately engulfed my face, my hair and the entire couch as Dave’s legs slowly let me go, but I didn’t move. I did not want to. That was beautiful. The fart was great, but the fact that it was Dave’s fart made everything better. Not even in my wildest dreams I could imagine having a best friend like him.

After 10 seconds, the fart finally started to lose power. I slowly pulled my head away from his butt, but not too much, as I was loving all of that: I wanted to admire that butt. Seconds felt like minutes as I didn’t hear any reaction from Dave. I immediately sat down, dazed, and right behind that “wall of jeans” I saw Dave’s face: he was laughing like he rarely did. Indeed, he does find farts funny.

“D-Dave?” - I asked.

“Dude! That was incredible! Are you ok?” he asked, waving his hand: the smell hit him too.

He didn’t change position and he was still “showing off” his butt in my direction. I guess I looked at it a bit too much because he laughed a bit more. He looked at me, smiling. I didn’t even try to hide my boner this time.

“Did you like it?” he asked, but he already knew the answer, obviously.

He then sat next to me again, crossing his legs in a yoga pose, “hiding” his butt.

“D-Dave, I-I’m sorry”

“Dude, for what? Because you like sniffing farts?” he said, straight to the point, but laughing about it.

“Yes.” I simply replied, ashamed.

“It’s OK, Tim. You’ve always been the weird one”

I looked at him, he was just smiling. I couldn’t believe that he just farted in my face like that.

“Tim, seriously, it’s OK, don’t worry. It’s me, your best friend…” Dave was being serious again.

“P-please don’t tell anyone…” I asked.

“Of course. But now I’m the one asking you to carry on like nothing happened…”

Dave took a big breath. I was confused.

“Tim, I know you: you’re shy, insecure. But you shouldn’t. Don’t even think that I don’t want to be your friend anymore because of… this. As I said, you’ve always been kind of weird, but that’s what friends are for…”

I looked at Dave and my eyes got wet.

“A friend is the man who knows all about you…” I said.

“…and he still likes you” he continued.

“Elbert Hubbart” I added. Dave laughed.

“See? You’re also the smart one!” he said, smiling. “I knew you were different and I knew there was something going on… down there. ahah”

I guess Dave was perfectly comfortable with his own heterosexuality so he didn’t feel his “manliness” threatened by me or my “wishes” (if that makes any sense). Nice, cute and open-minded: I can’t believe his last girlfriend broke up with him after only six months. He’s an amazing guy and he’s always been.

“D-Dave… I-I don’t know what to say…”

“Oh, you’re going to cry now? You’re gay, not a girl. You can still be a man!” he said, jokingly, fully aware of the outdated gender roles.

We both laughed a bit as we hugged one more time.

“Dude, you might want to get a shower. Your hair smells like crap!”

“That’s because your farts are incredible… ahah” I replied.

He looked at me, with a smirk. “Only the best for my best friend!” and he smiled.

Dave quickly laid down on the couch and lifted both his legs. I was puzzled.

His butt was facing up and funny sounds started to come out.

“Dude! What are you doing?!” I asked, confused but laughing.

“Shhh… just listen…” he whispered.

PRRT PR PT PT PPFFFFF And other weird sounds.

And then I remembered. Dave could also fart on command. So he wasn’t lying.

“I’m brewing a big one…” he said, trying not to laugh.

“Dave, thanks. But why can we just…” he was still making weird sounds.

“wohoho… man, come here, quick…” he said.

“W-what?!?” - I was surprised.

“Come here! Listen…” he said, waving his hand.

I just didn’t what to say, again. It was like my wildest dreams. He was still lifting his legs and the whole situation kinda looked like those “fart on command” videos from YouTube. I slowly put my head closer and closer to his butt, now slightly sagging, showing off a glimpse of his black boxers. The smell was incredible, but those weird sounds were not “farts”: he was actually sucking air in his butt!

“Oh my… ahaha” I couldn’t help but laugh, with my head very close to his butt.

“ohhh… this is going to be huge, man…” he said.

I saw his legs coming down a bit and the sounds stopped. I felt his left hand touching my head as he started to push my face in his butt, spreading his legs wider, showing off his sagging butt in jeans.

“D-Dave, than-”

“Shut up and enjoy the music” he said, laughing, still gently pushing my face.

Indeed, it was a beautiful “music”.

Another fart came out. This was quite different, maybe because it was not completely “natural”, as it was the result of Dave’s unique talent. It was still loud and going strong, but it felt less wet, yet still very beautiful. It lasted around 7 seconds. I sniffed a lot and I heard Dave laugh, as usual. He let my head go but we both didn’t move. He slightly changed his legs’ position and started to suck air again. I just stood there, with my head planted in his butt.

After a couple of seconds, he farted again, loud and powerful.

He was like Will The Farter, or something like that. Or even better. He zig-zagged between sucking air and actual farts: I loved all of that. His butt was like a pillow for me and I loved how he simply let me sniff his gas.

It was beyond my wildest dreams and he really proved to be my BEST friend, no matter what.

He accepted me, farts or not.

After a fourth big fart in my face, I simply stopped sniffing and sat on my side of the couch, with a smile on my face. I wanted to stop, because Dave is my best friend for countless of reasons, not just farts. Also, I actually really wanted to continue my game-night with him, as a friend would do.

He then sat normally too, laughing, right after one last fart.

“I guess that was a bit too much even for you…” he said, jokingly.

“You’re the fart master, Dave. But you already knew that”

“Don’t be such a brown-noser… no pun intended ahah!”

We both sat normally on the couch and grabbed our joypads. I tried to ignore my boner (with my penis almost exploding in a cloud of “white dust”), despite the beautiful fart experience and the smell still engulfing the entire room. Dave, on the other hand, completely ignored it and after a few minutes he changed the subject, resuming our “default” game-nights talking.

Nothing changed, indeed.

He acted like nothing happened. We ate junk food and had more beers together, playing videogames.

I guess that’s what best friends are for, after all.

Dave, my best friend. My brother-like, funny, open-minded and gassy best friend.

The End

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

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ginanosakka · 3 years

Text

Passed Down Trauma

Masterlist

The War Has Begun | Next

“Why are you attempting to assassinate Eito L/N?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re lying, L/N. We found the notes in your home, we found the gun hidden in your car, and all of Japan has seen the video of you slandering your own father. Why did you do it?” Officer Yuikmara slammed his hands on the table in attempts to strike fear in you.

Without faltering, you said with a smile, “I can’t tell you what I didn’t do. . . but I can tell you that you have twenty four hours to let me go before it all gets fully released, Mr. Yuikmara.”

Katsuki and Kirishima stood in the living room of Katsuki’s apartment on what felt like pounds of questions and anxiety. Everything was going smoothly in the operation to protect Y/N and Ryu — now one was missing and the other was in police custody. The tension in the room was thick and despite Eijirou’s tendency to lighten situations, he made no move to ease his friend’s mind. In fact, deep down he wanted Katsuki to suffer for reasons that he knew were selfish and out of line. The unspoken feelings he had for a woman that he shouldn’t want were not hidden, and could not stay silent forever. Especially when that woman’s life was in danger and he couldn’t help but blame Bakugou.

“I’m going to burn that bastard’s house down, and Icy-Hot can put out the damn flames when I’m done.” Katsuki fumed as he paced the floor to try and calm down to think clearly. It was taking everything in him to follow the law and try to take Eito down the legal way, but with every minute he spent working on the case, he realized just how inbedded that man was in hero companies and the police force.

“That won’t get Y/N home, and you know it. What we need to do is wait for her to post bail and find Ryu, she’s probably worried about him.” Eijirou said, trying to find a way to solve all of this and think of what would help Ryu and Y/N.

Katsuki glared at Eiji, “you think you know everything? Y/N wasn’t even phased when we found out he was missing, you idiot!” Katsuki seethed at him.

“I know that Y/N loves her kid more than anything else, so maybe you were too busy being emotional to understand what she was feeling!” Kirishima bit back, not wavering under Katsuki’s harsh gaze.

“You’re just some sad, lovesick moron,” Katsuki taunted. “Why don’t you just admit the reason you don’t believe that she knows where Ryu is, is because you don’t want to believe that she’s hiding things? You think she trusts you so much that she’d tell you more than me? I can guarantee you that, like always, you’ll never be better than me.” Katsuki finished, both of them standing face to face with clenched fists and locked jaws.

The silence was loud like roaring beasts threatening the other to make the first move; two men who fell for the one they couldn’t fully get their arms around. Their friendship was equally as important to both of them, but how could one swallow their feelings for Y/N, simply for the sake of the other? Neither of them thought the other was worthy enough for such a beautiful tragedy you had written in your very bones. There was no personality, no smile, no heart that could compare to you. Even if they fought, the loser wouldn’t dare accept defeat.

A ringing phone broke through the silence, Katsuki’s pocket suddenly vibrating and taking his attention as he pulled it out. An unknown number was displayed across the screen, and in normal circumstances, he would have immediately sent it to voicemail with no hesitation or concern for who was on the other line. Today was anything but a normal circumstance.

“Hello,” he answered in a clipped tone.

“Mr. Bakugou, it’s Nanami. . I have important information I need to discuss with you.”

Rotting in a holding cell wasn’t how you wanted to spend your weekend, but it was better than being dead — you weren’t sure you wouldn’t be dead soon anyway, so you’re savoring just being in jail. You couldn’t even post bail, so you had to sit on the brick like bed and wait for everything to go through. Everything you built was currently being destroyed while you sat here calmly, waiting for the fire that is your father to be put out so you can remove the remains of his hold on your life and be free. . .

. . .Free to do what?

“L/N, you have a visitor, let’s go.” An officer interrupted your peace and opened the door of your cell, and you followed him without a word.

When you entered the small, dimly lit room, a woman sat there with such a crestfallen expression that you could barely recognize her. Her skin that was always flawless with minimal makeup was bare and her color suggested sickness. The gorgeous and bouncy hair that she did her best to maintain everyday was dull and clearly untouched. She looked like a mess, even in her bright flower patterned spring dress.

“Mom?” You said quietly, feeling a twinge of fear towards her when she was in such an unhinged state.

She looked up at you open hearing that word spill from your lips, and her expression brightened ever so slightly. It settled the fear and allowed you to fully fall into worry as you slipped into the chair in front of her — for the first time in years you offered her your hand for comfort. When her cold hand touched yours, you squeezed tightly in hopes of bringing her some warmth even in the cold room.

“I always knew you were secretly a momma’s girl,” were the first words out of her mouth along with an airy laugh. The joke was strange when it came from her, but for her sake you cracked a small smile. “I have a lot to tell you, Y/N.” She said in the softest tone you’d ever heard, grabbing every bit of your attention.

“You don’t have much time, so just say what you have to say.” You urged her, unsure of when you’d be able to speak to her again once she left this room. She had fallen off the Earth after that phone call, and you didn’t want her to leave you with questions.

Your mother began with a deep breath, “I’ve been married to your father for twenty five years. I did it for the money, never once thinking or caring about what he did and how he acted. . . until you were gone. I realized that he was. . different from other people. One day he was kind and compassionate, the next he was ruthless and cold, like a ticking time bomb that kept going off and shortening the time until it’s next reaction. It was easy to ignore at first, I just left him alone as I always did and made sure our interactions were kept completely secret. . Then he saw you on the news with that Bakugou boy-“

“You have five minuets left,” a man called on a speaker into the roo and you gestured for her to get to the point.

“What I’m trying to say is that there’s something wrong with him, Y/N. If you take him down by just destroying all his business and credibility I’m scared he’ll do something drastic that will hurt a lot of people.” Your mother said shakily, and the fear in her face was chilling you to the core, along with the fact that if you looked back you could tell that she was right.

‘What do I know about my grandparents on his side? I’ve never seen a baby picture from him, or even any picture of when he was young! What happened to him that drove him to become the controlling business man that would step on anyone in his way?’ You thought at a rapid speed, finding too many similarities between your reaction to trauma with how he always had acted. If not then more extreme.

“What am I supposed to do?” You whispered, your eyes falling to the cold metal table between you two.

“You have to talk to him,”’ your mother said. “I know you have a way of getting out of here, and when you do, go straight to him and tell no one. . You are his biggest failure in his eyes, and I know you’re the only one who can get through to him.” She squeezed your hand this time, assuring you that what she was saying was true.

“And what about you?” You asked. “Whether I destroy his business or get him the help he needs, you’re still going to lose everything.”

She smiled, “no. I just got everything I needed.”

A/N: We’re getting somewhere :P

Taglist (Closed) <3 : @fandomgirllover @cloudsgathering @that-bipolar-renegade-romantic @jazzylove @that-chick212 @bonbonthedragon @misssugarless @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @bakugous-bakahoe @pinkykookie17 @animexholic @arielting @samkysnks @simpforeveryone @damnirina @deneuves @tsumuuumiyaaaa @vintage-teddyxo @regalmigraine @samvmgh @iamagalaxy @officialtrashbusiness @xwackk @videogameboiwhowins @marajillana @ellasdilemma @plutoneu @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @thestarsanctuary @dewdropwifu @star-light-imagines @kritiiiii @bakugosbottombitch @the2ndl @candybabey @simply-not-the-same @sam-i-am-1025 @mes-bisous @eternallyvenus @peppytine @chaelysian @definitely-yours @oikawarc @suneaterofthebig3 @m0na-l0ver @nkb0048 @losertsukki @notyourfavorlte @caramelsquares @hikaru-mikazuki

#bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #bakugo x reader #x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha angst #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha x reader #anime x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #bnha eijirou

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield, Rosie Holland x Linus Perry

-Warnings: References to sex, language, typos, sad thoughts, attempted suicide, vomiting

-Words: 4.4K

A/n: Thank you so mucg guys with all the live support. Finally done, yay, with part 1

Chapter 17: Blood is Thicker than Water

Words: 4.4K

Four years had passed and Rosie was the only one to stick around. Everything had changed. You and Tom were currently on your trip around the world. Traveling everywhere from Cuba to Greece. Taking in sights of the world.

Embarking on journey covering 3 continents and 10 countries so far. You had already visited the Taj Mahal in India, the Amalfi Coast for some sun, and Iceland just for the blue lagoon hot springs. You and Tom were having the time of your lives, it being the perfect distraction from everything back home.

Rosie was running the mob along with her new right hand and consigliere, Linus. Rosie had been taking on the mantle as the new leader of the Holland mob. Picking up where Parker left off. Trying to do him justice. Tom had helped her learn the ropes but she always had that fiery personality desired for a mob persona.

After four years, Rosie learned to embrace her grief instead of shoving it away, she began to visit Parker’s grave more and more. Tried to every week, but life got in the way. She would bring a new set of flowers to freshen up the old ones.

She knew today would be especially hard, every year it was impossible. Rosie could barely get through the day. Today was her 20th birthday, marking 4 years of celebrating without Parker.

Rosie and Henry’s relationship had grown into one full of misery. Trapped in a loveless relationship, but he was still her best friend. With just one look he would know what she was thinking.

Over the past couple years, Henry has been so obsessed with keeping her safe that it was driving her mad. Rosie understood that Henry didn’t want to lose her like he lost Parker, but Rosie ran a mob and danger followed her everywhere. They started drifting apart when everything happened with the Holland family, creating unfixable cracks in their foundation.

Lately, Rosie had been feeling someone watching her every move. Following her whenever she would be downtown. Feeling a presence she hasn’t felt in a while. Constantly shivering in fear, feeling as though she was observed. From then on, every move she made was calculated and thought out.

When Rosie first took on the mantle, she cleaned house. Eliminating those whose loyalty would always lie with Tom. Trying to affirm the fact that she was so much more than just Tom’s daughter. She had let William go and few others because she brought in Linus.

Even after starting her new regime, things have been a bit off, lately. She hasn’t been sleeping through the night. She’d jolt out of sleep, drenched in a cold sweat. Henry would be startled awake as well by her movement as move to comfort her.

“Roo, you okay?” Henry asked groggily, yawning a bit. Rosie gasping to catch her breath. Her dreams were supposed to be an escape but now they were doing more harm than good. “I don’t know. I keep having these dreams about Parker. Like he was trying to tell me something,” Rosie said, gathering her bearings. It wasn’t everyday she was visited by her deceased twin brother. “From beyond the grave?…Rosie, he’s gone,” Henry pondered. “I know, I just can’t shake this feeling. That he is… he’s.”

“What? Still alive? Honey, we buried him. You cried over him. If he was still alive don’t you think we would’ve shown his face by now. Wilson and Carter are gone, they have been for awhile now,” Henry explained, hoping it would bring her some solace. Henry wasn’t blind to the change in her demeanor, she did open up to him about being followed everywhere she went. “I guess you’re right. But my dreams feel so real,” Rosie whispered, lying back down. Ready to drift off into a deep sleep. One not tainted by the memory of Parker. “Go, back to sleep baby.” Henry said, he knew they would be getting up in a few hours anyway. Tomorrow was a very big day. Henry knew he and Rosie had been drifting but he was all set to give her the best birthday ever.

Henry had bought tickets for you and Tom to fly in for her birthday and stay for awhile. This time of year was hard for all of you but it wasn’t fair to Rosie. The day that is supposed to be about her has always been shared but now no one dared acknowledge it. It was just a reminder of what had been lost.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy birthday,” Henry whispered, peppering her face in kisses as the morning sun shone through the curtains.

“Thank you,” Rosie sighed. Every year was a challenge. It got a little better every year but she knew she would never fully accept his absence.

“What do you have planned today?” Henry inquired, he was always one for big gestures. He absolutely hated that she no longer enjoyed her birthday.

As a kid she loved the idea of turning a year older, getting to grow up and getting loads of presents of course. You always made the priority of throwing the most perfect themed parties for Rosie and Parker. One year they had a pirate themed pool party with a treasure hunt and another a circus/carnival theme with fair games and a petting zoo. You loved going all out for their birthday. Just spoiling them in general.

Rosie and Parker, also Tom, can’t forget about him, made life worth living. You and Tom did everything for your kids, never wanting them to feel an ounce of sadness.

But the times had changed, you were no longer the mother to a son. It was just Rosie and you thanked God everyday that she was still there but your heart will forever be scarred.

Scars take forever to heal, sometimes never. There will never be a day when you don’t miss Parker or he doesn’t cross your mind. Everything you did from the moment he died was for him, in one way or another. You knew the grief would never stop but you hoped Rosie would one day be able to move on with life.

“You know…” Rosie murmured. “Oh yeah, say hi for me,” Henry nodded along remembering Rosie was going to spend the day next to her better half, Parker.

Rosie proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day. She wore a tight grey dress showing off the perfect curves of her body. And a pair of black high heels to complete her power woman ensemble. “Henry, you aren’t throwing me a party right? I really don’t want one,” Rosie inquired. Rosie would prefer to have all birthdays pass and wash away but she knew Henry wouldn’t allow that. At the most she would have a nice dinner with him and watch a movie.

“You’ll just wait to find out,” Henry grinned cheekily. In reality he was throwing her surprise party to help her find the joy in her birthday again.

“Henry seriously, not this year,” Rosie announced. “It’s never any year. You haven’t celebrated in 3 years. You need to get over this.”

“Get over what? The death of my twin brother?” Rosie asked, astounded at Henry’s previous statement. The nerve he had, wow.

“Roo, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to apologize but Rosie left in a huff.

“Talk later, Linus is waiting for me,” Rosie yelled, already walking out of the room. “Linus, you ready to go?” Rosie said, as she found him drinking coffee in her kitchen. He sat at the bar, legs dangling off the chair as she came down. “Yes, Roo,” he said, a little out of breath from taking the awe of her beauty.

“Please don’t call me that around Henry… What’s on the agenda?” Rosie asked Linus as she poured herself her own cup of coffee.

“Well, Shaw owes you 3 million and the deadline you gave him expired,” Linus explained, he knew Rosie hated having things held over her head. She would prefer to get them out of the way as soon as possible.

“Well then, let’s go pay him a visit. I could use a drink. Afterwards, can you drop me off at the cemetery?” “Of course, Roo,” Linus said. Rosie huffed in response, rolling her eyes at the name. Linus loved to get a rise out of Rosie. Her remarks to his comments were just a sign of their playful banter.Rosie’s relationship with Linus was complicated. They were partners, most of the time.

Rosie had gone really dark over the past years. There were days where she refused to get out of bed. Sitting in bed wasting the entire day away. Henry would come home from work and try his best to comfort her but after Parker he was just as lost as her. They lived in the same house but not truly together. Not as lovers, maybe as roommates.

All Rosie could feel were thoughts of hopelessness, desolation, and misery. Never being able to find that light at the end of the tunnel. She didn’t deserve to find it, thinking she was the one who pushed you and Tom away. Blaming herself for Parker. All these feelings and Henry wasn’t there, too busy with his own life.

One day, Rosie had gotten real low. Couldn’t find a way out so she went to the gun room grabbed the closest pistol, a bottle of scotch, a glass and sat in Tom’s office. She rested on Tom’s chair trying to find the will to end it all. To point the pistol and pull the trigger.

It would be so easy, the flick of a finger. No more pain. She tried not to think about everything she was giving up. Never seeing you or Tom again, or Henry. Never loving him again, if they ever did manage to find their way back to each others arms. Never experiencing the things that made life worth living.

All her thoughts were halted as Linus barged in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the broken girl hold a gun unto her temple, its safety clicked off. The room was cold as an icy chill ran down his spine.

“Rosie, what are you doing!?!” Linus thundered, trying to stop her before she pulled the trigger. “I don’t know. I think I’m trying to end it all,” Rosie whispered as tears streamed down her face. Deep down she didn’t want to pull the trigger, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“End what all? Your life?” Linus asked, trying to talk her off the metaphorical ledge. Something had to happen that pushed her to this point. Rosie had to be drowning and calling out for help but no one came. “No, it was never about killing myself. It was just about ending the pain and suffering,” she cried.

“Rosie, listen to me. There is so much more you have to live for. This will pass. Think about everything you are giving up.” Linus tried to appeal to the people she loved, you, Tom, and Henry. Losing Rosie would no longer make you a mother. How could Rosie take that away from you?

“I already have and it hasn’t, for 2 years. How do you know it will get any better?” Rosie begged for a true answer. She had been slumping around, letting the days pass her by as she stood silent, screaming non-vocally for help. Trapped in an asylum of misery. “I don’t. But I’ll be there to help you,” Linus exclaimed, giving her the truthful response she wanted. Rosie just needed to hear that she wasn’t alone in this world anymore. “No, you won’t. You’ll just leave like everyone else. Henry doesn’t love me anymore. My parents left. I’m all alone.” “Roo, you aren’t alone. Just hand me the gun and we can work this out. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here,” Linus pleaded. That was the first time he had used that nickname. The name had been reserved for only Henry, Parker and you. In that moment Rosie saw someone she missed so dearly in Linus, Parker. Parker was the only person who was 100% there for her. He was there to talk her off the ledge. He was there at her weakest and in a split second he was standing in front of her.

Rosie gave in, removing the gun from her temple, clicking the safety one and handing it over. She slowly stood up, coming over to Linus and collapsed in his arms. Rosie whispered a small “I missed you” as he held the broken girl. He was the only one who could pull her out. Not Henry, god she wished it was Henry. Linus understood her pain and didn’t try to fix everything.

Henry was the opposite. Constantly worrying about Rosie and trying to find a solution for everything. Things from the slightest backache to feelings of hopelessness. Rosie didn’t need fixing she just needed to be heard and Linus made sure she was. At Harmon’s, the bar was quite empty. Just Shaw and a few of his men. Shaw has borrowed money from Rosie to clear of a few charges. The Holland name had some pull in the legal community. Dating back to Dom’s days but Tom mostly laid down roots.

Linus entered first, firing two shots to take out Shaw’s capos. “Jesus Christ,” yelled Shaw as his protection thudded against the floor.

Rosie followed Linus in, making her presence known, “Shaw, you know I’m not a fan of people not staying true to their word. Do you have my money?”

“Rosie, doll. I paid you in full already. If this just your sad attempt to stir something up we can work this out another time. Shoo, let me finish my drink,” Shaw snickered. “Shaw, I know your games. You have 3 minutes to transfer my money right now. One for each million. I have Linus checking for a deposit of 3 million, make this simple and do it,” Rosie stated with an unchanging expression. “I need more time, that’s not enough. It’s all in separate accounts,” Shaw asserted, his voice starting to waver as he stared down the barrel of her pistol. “Well then, I’d hurry if I were you. Here’s your phone. Just wire the money… Starting now,” Rosie exclaimed as Linus devoted his stare to watch. Glancing at the seconds tick away.

“Fine, I’m going,” Shaw screamed, about to crack under the pressure.

“2 minutes left,” Linus chimed in. “Okay, I’m just inputing the dollar amount, it’s a lot of zeros.” Shaw tried to explain. He was about to lose his life because he was slow.

“50 secs.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6—“

“I’m done,” Shaw said, letting out the breath he was holding.

“That was fast but not fast enough,” Rosie whispered raising her gun square to the back of his head. Her finger slipped to the trigger and fired a shot.

BANG

“Wow, I didn’t think you actually kill him,” Linus said, impressed by her ruthlessness.

“He was getting on my nerves, besides he will never borrow money from me again if he is dead,” Rosie chuckled. “You know I found that really hot,” Linus whispered in her ear. “You always do.” Rosie grinned at his advances, trying to pull her close to his chest. “Hey, this can’t keep happening.”

“Oh, come on. You say that every time. I can’t hide my feelings for you anymore.”

“Well, you are going to have to. I was clear about what this was. So I’m going to ask you this once more time, what do you want?” “I want you.” “Well you can have me in the bathroom in 2 minutes.” “Roo, you’re too good to me,” Linus smirked, following her as she glided to the restroom.

Everything lasted about 30 mins. They were in and out in a flash. The bar now smelled of sex and a dead bodies. Linus was the first to finish, coming out of the bathroom looking disheveled as hell. Sporting the same juts had a quickie look. Linus went to pull the car around after fixing his hair in the mirror.

Linus would never be Henry and that was a good thing, Linus was different. By no circumstances was Rosie in love with Linus or will ever be in love with him, he was merely a distraction. Rosie knew her relationship with him was wrong but he made her feel alive once more.

Rosie emerged from bathroom breathing heavy, almost gasping for air, with sweat glistening on her chest. She straightened out her dress as combed down her hair. Stepping out of the doorway, the smell of a fresh rotting body hit her.

Rosie immediately turned around and lunged for the toilet. She had been in the business for 3 years and never before had her body reacted this way. She hurled into the toilet for a good ten minutes. Eventually bringing her head out of the toilet bowl to wipe off her mouth. The air was now coupled with sex, dead bodies and vomit. She was clueless to what forced her to keep her head in a toilet bowl.

After her nausea spell passed her, she had Linus drop her off near the cemetery. “Oh, you can drop me off here. I need something from the pharmacy anyways,”Rosie informed Linus. She was planning on picking up something for her stomach, it was very unlikely for her to throw up suddenly.

“Ok, Roo. Do you need a ride home?” Linus questioned.

“No, Jared is supposed to pick me up. Thank you,” Rosie exclaimed, getting out of the car. “Alright. Happy birthday by the way. Can I have a kiss goodbye?” “Thank you and no. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah for the party,” Linus called out slowly driving away. “Wait! What did you say?” Rosie remarked but he was already long gone.

Rosie was mentally kicking herself, she didn’t have the willpower to deal with a party tonight. She specifically told Henry, not to throw one but since when did he listen to her.

Their road to ultimately heartbreak was a two way street. Both of them had done something to warrant the loveless relationship. Rosie admitted to herself, that she eventually did stop trying. She stopped constantly asking if Henry wanted to go out for dinner and what time he would be home. Rosie prefers to blame Henry but in reality, she was then one who let go first.

Rosie stopped showing him love, too distraught by his every move because it was a constant reminder her brother wasn’t there anymore. Henry would try to work him into every little conversation, remembering Parker in everything. It grew too much for Rosie. Rosie had never been one for confronting her feelings, preferring to shove them down but how could she, when Henry would never shut up about Parker.

Parker was the main reason a wedge had been driven between them, but she wouldn’t dream of blaming her dead brother. Who couldn’t even defend himself. Rosie needed a reset after Parker but Henry was stuck living in the past.

Rosie was ready to start her life with Henry after graduation but he couldn’t let go. After a while, Rosie became just like him. Stuck drifting into a void of pure sadness. Rosie couldn’t let go, along with Henry. Their lives went in different directions, Rosie was blossoming into a ruthless leader who would only act soft around Parker, vowing to visit his grave everyday. And Henry got left behind at some point, not seeing how he fit in her life anymore.

In the pharmacy she scanned the aisles for some sort of quick remedy. If Henry was throwing her a surprise party, one she specifically asked not for. Rosie didn’t have days to recuperate, maybe a few hours.

She found the largest bottle of Pepto-Bismol and stopped by the card aisle. Carefully grasping a birthday card for her favorite person. One that was funny yet endearing. Parker was addicted to all the corned jokes she would crack. She made her way to the register. In front of her stood a little old woman, she wore a purple floral dress and her white stained hair was pulled into a clip.

“Just this for you sweetie? Oh, who’s birthday is it?” Asked the little lady, referring to the birthday card Rosie grabbed for Parker.

“My brother’s and um, could I also get this,” Rosie responded as her eyes glanced below her. Skimming over the candy bars, gum packets and eventually landing on a pregnancy test. Come to think of it, Rosie was late about a week and a half.

“Of course, honey. Would you like to use the restroom?” Queried the lady. Rosie nodded in response. She finished paying and quickly made her way to the restroom. Following the directions on the box carefully, she needed to be a hundred percent sure, before she told anyone.

Right around the corner was the cemetery. She glided through iron gates, walking across the cobble stone path before she came upon the place she loved most in the world. The place where she would hold nothing back, spilling everything to him.

Life of a mob boss was dangerous but things started to seem eerie for Rosie. She would feel weird presences or someone watching her at eerie times. The same feeling plagued her at the cemetery, today. She knelt down to the headstone, engraved in it read “Here Lies Parker Jackson Holland, Taken from us too soon, a son, a brother, and a friend.”

“Hey, P. You probably get tired of me visiting you. Everyday I’m here and sometimes I think I do it for my benefit more than yours. I hope that wherever you are, you are happy and most likely you are with Charlotte. I’m happy for you, Parker. No matter how much I wish you were here with me, I know that you are happy that you escaped this life. Happy 20th birthday.” Rosie whispered, fixing the flowers that began to wilt from yesterday.

“I have some really amazing news to share with you, but it will have to wait till next time. You can’t be the first person I tell, I’m sorry. He deserves to know before you…. Oh my god, you’ll never believe what happened at work…”

This is the one thing that brought Rosie solace. She persistently blames herself for that fateful night 3 years ago. Rosie would spend hours kneeling next to his headstone. She would tell him about her life and read off the postcards you and Tom sent from your travels. Talking to him as if he was still there.

Rosie glanced at her watch, it was half past five and she hadn’t even called Jared yet to pick her up. “I’m sorry P, I gotta go. Henry, god love him but, that bastard is throwing me a birthday party. I guess I should at least make an appearance. I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.” Rosie said, walking towards the parking lot.

She stood under the gate for ten minutes waiting for Jared to arrive and escort her home. The weather completely shifted as the sun set around her. The once blue sky changed to one painted with vibrant yellows and pinks. The sky was a sight not to be missed but she could do without the freezing winds that accompanied.

A chill ran down her spine as she waited in the darkness. Feeling a sensation that only warranted panic. Rosie felt someone watching her once again. Maybe from a far or up close, but she definitely wasn’t alone. It was silly that she let feelings like those get to her. She was a mob boss for god sakes, scaring even the most menacing of men into submission.

Rosie eyes started darting everywhere a noise left. In the corner of her eye she caught a figure drenched in shadows approaching. She tried to scramble for her gun, but soon realized she left it in Linus’s car.

The stranger kept making advances and managed to get to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a cloth to her mouth. Causing her to be consumed in darkness as her body grew limp.

Back at the manor, Henry was setting everything up perfectly. His mission was to make Rosie love her birthday once more. While Henry was working hard at hanging the birthday banner and decorating every corner with balloons, Linus was no help at all. Lounging on the couch and finishing a beer.

“So are you going to pick up Rosie and get off your ass?” Henry barked, pulling the coffee out from under Linus, causing him to spill his beer.

“Seriously, dude. What’s your problem?” Linus snapped.

“My problem is my girlfriend isn’t here. Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?” “No, Jared is.” “Linus, Jared is here. He has been for a few hours. Where is she?” Henry questioned, starting to worry. “I don’t know. Last, I left her at the cemetery.” “Henry! It’s so good to see you,” you cheered as Tom and you walked in. Hugging Henry after not seeing him for awhile. It still pained you to visit, traveling was the perfect distraction.

“Hope you have been taking care of yourself, son. Where’s Rosie?” Tom questioned. “Yeah, I’ve been good. At the moment, I don’t know where she is. She’s missing,” Henry concluded. You and Tom stood completely still as you processed the news. It wasn’t everyday that your daughter would disappear into thin air, but her job did keep her life in danger.Rosie missing was uncommon. It had happened once or twice in the past but that was 3 years ago. So much had changed, for the better. Yet, you were once again in the same place, in the house you left because everything was too familiar. Rosie missing was all too familiar.

Rosie came to. Opening her eyes to a place she chose to forget. For all she knew it was an exact replica. Warehouses riddled all of London’s ports, she could be anywhere.

“Text your driver and tell him Henry picked you up for a special birthday dinner,” Rosie’s kidnapper barked, thrusting a phone in front of her.

“Really? You kidnapped me? After 3 years of being leader of London’s most feared mob, it’s like been there done that. Do you want money or something? I have a party to get to.” Rosie quipped, annoyed with they man’s pursuits.

“Oh, I know. I believe happy birthday is granted. 20 years is a milestone.”

“Whatever, I don’t really like my birthday anyway.”

“Wanna talk about it?” The stranger pestered on. Rosie had learned lesson from the last time she was restrained to chair, rope around her wrists and ankles, ceasing blood flow. This time it was zip ties, a little basic for any mobster she has had a run with.

“No. I want you to let me go. Seriously, what do you want? I don’t think you know who I am. Or who my father is,” Rosie asserted.

“A moment alone together is all I ask and I know exactly who you are and who your dad is. Correction, who our dad is.”

“Parker.”

A/n: Finally the end. Alright, I'm going to bed. There is no set schedule for the sequel series, I'm just going to post a chapter when I finish writing it. Let me know if you like to be tagged in the sequel chapters.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy @quaksonhehe @housepartyprotocol

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x mob!reader #tom holland fan fiction smut #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland masterlist #mob!tom x reader #dad!mob!tom holland

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12yeahiminluvwu · 4 years

Text

Calm

pairing - Rudy Pankow x Little Sister!Reader

summary- Requested by @deathcompass :) “hi! your writing is amazing :) i was wondering if you could write something with drew/rudy where his younger sister has a panic attack and he helps her calm down because she gets them a lot?”

word count- 1.9+

warning(s)- panic attack tw, anxiety tw, swearing (maybe? idk), kinda cliche… gives me 2016 wattpad vibes ngl, the ending sucks i’m so sorry! very loosely edited

series masterlist

masterlist

Disclaimer: I’ve only ever had very mild panic attacks so I’m going to use my own experiences to write this, but I do understand that they can be very severe and I’m not in any way trying to romanticize anything at all. I love you, stay safe <3

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“Hey bug, you ready to come home?” You sighed, realizing that summer was ending and you would be having to go back to Alaska for school. It hadn’t snuck up on you, but some part of you had hoped that you’d get to stay with your brother forever.

“I guess…” You mumbled back, not wanting to hurt your parents but also not wanting to go back.

“You’re all set to fly out in a few days, we can’t wait to see you!” Your mom exclaimed. You could hear the excitement in her voice which only broke your heart even more. The familiar feeling began to bubble up in your chest, making it seem like you couldn’t breathe in all the way, like something was taking up space in your lungs preventing you from getting enough oxygen. This hadn’t happened all summer, not since you came to live with Rudy. It had been so long since you felt it, you almost forgot the feeling altogether.

“Sweetie? You still there?” Your mom’s voice brought you out of your own head and back into the real world, where a few minutes of silence had passed.

“Yeah, yeah I’m here. I’ll see you soon. Love you guys.” You quickly ended the conversation, wanting to get as far away from your phone as possible, as your mind assimilated it with the panic you were feeling.

This time, you were able to keep yourself calm.

“Baby, do you really have to leave?” Your boyfriend asked, his arms sliding around your waist, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The feeling of his skin on yours always ignited a fire within you, one you didn’t want to put out. You leaving in a few days felt like a storm threatening to wash away the wildfire the two of you had created together.

“Yeah… I have to go back to school, my brother is gonna be filming season two of his show in Charleston, I’d have no one to stay with…” You mumbled into his chest, soaking in his scent, aching to remember every piece of him. Part of you wanted to believe that a long-distance relationship with him would work but the rest of you knew that it wasn’t fair to either of you.

“Go to school here, with us! You could stay with me!” One of your best friends chimed in. A spark of hope lit up in your stomach, maybe you could stay. But then, like clockwork, that same feeling from earlier began to slither its way through your body. Your mind raced to all the things you’d be leaving behind, all the friends you had back home that you hadn’t seen in months.

But as your mind raced and you sat with your new friends, and boyfriend (something you never thought you’d get back home), you realized the people in this room meant more to you than the people back home, who were only still friends with you because they didn’t have anyone else to be friends with. That still didn’t keep the panic at bay, but once again, you were able to keep yourself calm.

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“Roo, I wanna talk to you about something…” You said, coming into his room that night.

“What’s up kid?” He asked, watching you sit down next to him on his bed. The way you twiddled your thumbs and chewed on your lips told him you were nervous about something, his mind racing to find out what it could be. The energy in the room shifted, and it was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Taking a big gulp, you started trying to verbalize your thoughts, even though it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“So… I was thinking- maybe- I… I could stay here with my friends and go to school here. She said she’d- she’d talk to her mom and ask if it was ok. But like, I would- I would need your help talking to mom and dad because I don’t want to hurt their feelings, but I really- really don;t want to go back home…” You stumbled out, hoping that he would understand what you had just word vomited at him. Slowly, you began to feel the burn of tears coming to your eyes, and desperately you tried to hold them back.

“You want to stay here? How come?” He asked. He sat up, coaxing you into his arms cause he knows it calms you down. You laid your head on his chest and kept trying to take deep breaths as he stroked your hair.

“I feel more understood by the people I’ve met here than I do by anyone in that stupid little town…” You whispered, “I’ve gotten closer to them in 3 months than I did to anyone back home in 16 years, Rudy. I have no one... no one real anyway.”

“So you want to stay here in LA?” He asked again and you nodded. The sound of his voice was distant, sounding miles away. You did your best to focus on your breathing but that focus was quickly slipping away as your breathing became more sporadic and uneven. It was as if something was sitting on your chest, preventing you from getting enough air.

“I’ll talk to mom and dad and see what they say. Kiddo, I need you to focus on your breathing ok? Focus on taking a deep breath all the way in and breathing all the way out.” He continued to run his fingers through your hair as you gasped in deep breaths and let the tears fall down your face. Slowly, the room started opening back up and even though the tears still ran down your face and your hands shook like an earthquake, it got a little easier to breathe.

“That’s it, just like that,” He cooed. You sighed at the sound of his voice, remembering when you used to get these all the times before Rudy left home. After he was gone, they picked up even more and your mom and dad just didn’t quite know how to ground you like Rudy did. He was always there to protect you, it was a kick in the gut when he left you. But here he was, calming you down.

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

Rudy sat up in the living room, the next morning. You were still asleep, somewhat exhausted from last night's events. The phone rang and he took a deep breath, hoping for nothing more than to be able to get you what you want.

“Hey Rudy! How have you been?” Your guys’ mom answered and he smiled, hearing the happiness in her voice.

“Hey mom, is dad around?” He asked and heard shuffling on the other end. Suddenly his dad's voice sounded from the line and they got a little lost in simple conversation. Rudy then remembered exactly why he called them and got down to business.

“So I wanna talk to you about Y/n…” He trailed off and your parents went a little quiet. He started to feel the sweat gather on his palms and gulped down the nervous lump in his throat, noticing the shift of energy in the call.

“Is she ok? Did something happen to her?” Your dad spewed out, worried that something might have happened to his little girl, but he shook his head before remembering they couldn’t see him.

“No no no she’s fine, but I know you guys are gonna be a little skeptical about what I’m going to tell you,” He sighed before continuing on, “ She wants to stay here for the school year…”

The line went quiet. He could tell his parents were shocked, the fact that their daughter didn’t want to come home was a lot to process and they had no idea what the reasoning behind it was.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t want to come home?” The woman gasped, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

“She’s ade some really awesome friends, people she’s closer to than anyone she is with at home. She’s already lined up a place to stay while I’m shooting. I think you’d really like them actually. It’s one of her best friends and her mom, they’re really nice! I think you guys should change Y/n’s ticket so that you guys can come down here…” He rushed out, hoping they understood him, but he was met with silence once again.

“Uhm… We’re not making any promises, but we’ll come down there so we can talk about this as a family…” His dad said and he nodded with a smile, agreeing.

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

You woke up feeling the events from last night lingering in your shoulders and neck.

It was a familiar ache that only ever happened after an attack, a muscle tightness that made it feel as though you’d been sleeping on concrete for the past week. Doing your best to roll out the soreness, you walked into the kitchen to see Rudy with a look on his face that you couldn’t read.

“So… I talked to mom and dad, and they’re gonna come here so we can talk about you staying!” He smiled and you felt like a little bit of the weight you’d been feeling lifted.

“When are they coming?”

“They’ll be here tomorrow,” He said, coming over and hugging me tightly, “We’ll get you where you need to be kid, promise!”

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

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Your parents sat across from you and your brother, silently. You could tell they were deep in thought, but it didn’t help the shaking that began to take over your hands.

All you wanted was for them to understand. They weren’t always great at that…

“Mom, are you gonna say anything?” You finally asked, wincing when she let out a sign.

“Y/n, I just don’t like the idea of you living with someone you just met three months ago....” She said finally and your dad nodded along with her.

“You don’t understand though. I’m closer to them than I am to anybody back home! I know her and I know that she cares about me, her mom cares about me! When I wasn’t here, I was there. I’m practically already a part of the family! She’s had me and Rudy over for dinner so many times I lost count. She’s hosted dinner parties for the cast because she wants to get to know the people close to Rudy and I because she cares! She’s like a second mom to me. And I love you guys, I really do. But I’m just not happy at home! It doesn’t feel like home anymore. This… This feels like home.” You stood up, pacing back and forth, your voice gradually raising to try and hold in the tears that threatened to fall.

“Baby…”

“Momma…” You whispered pleadingly, looking her in the eyes for the first time since she’d arrived and finally letting the tears fall. Rudy was next to you in seconds, pulling you into his arms, doing his best to keep you grounded so you didn’t fall off the edge.

The silence was filled by your sniffles and Rudy’s whispers into your ear. Your parents looked at each other with a knowing look in their eyes. It was obvious that they were not your home anymore, and no matter how much it broke their hearts they knew they had to let you go.

“Y/n, honey, we want to meet the family first, but we think you should stay. We want you to be happy bug, and if this is where you’re happy, then this is where you should be!” Your mom finally said, coming over and wrapping you and your brother in a tight hug. Your dad followed in suit and soon enough you started to feel yourself calm down.

#rudy's little sister #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #outer banks #imagine #x reader #jj maybank #pogue #netflix #y/n #rudy pankow x y/n #x y/n #self insert

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terramythos · 3 years

Text

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 9 of 26

Title: The Priory of the Orange Tree (2019)

Author: Samantha Shannon

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Epic Fantasy, Third-Person, Female Protagonists, LGBT Protagonists

Rating: 10/10

Date Began: 3/12/2021

Date Finished: 4/12/2021

1000 years ago, the world burned. Draconic creatures terrorized the land, led by a horrific evil known as the Nameless One. But then something happened that sent the monsters into a seemingly endless sleep, and the world has rebuilt in the centuries since.

But the Draconic evil begins to stir in its slumber, and the divided nations of the world have little chance to stop it. Eadaz is a mage from the Priory of the Orange Tree, sent to spy on the northern queendom of Inys. Legend has it that as long as the royal line continues, the world will be free from the Nameless One. While it's a long shot, Ead guards the young Queen Sabran closely to preserve the peace. However, as she and the queen grow closer to each other, Ead has to decide where her loyalties lie. Meanwhile, her close friend Loth is secretly sent into exile by the royal spymaster due to his controversial friendship with the queen. Supposedly sent as an ambassador to the newly Draconic kingdom of Yscalin, he soon finds himself out of his depth, entrusted with a deadly secret.

In the isolationist Eastern country of Seiiki, Tané wants nothing more than to become a dragon rider. The dragons of the East are old, wise, and revered as gods-- eternally opposed to the Draconic legions of the West. However, the night before the choosing ceremony that will decide her fate, she breaks isolation and discovers a young man from the West on the shore. Rather than report him to the authorities, she and her friend smuggle him to the island of Orisima, the only place Westerners are permitted. Niclays Roos, an old man exiled to Orisima by Queen Sabran, soon finds himself caught in the conflict. He believes if he finds an elixir for eternal life, he will finally be able to return home. When he's forced to shelter the forbidden Westerner, Niclays' entire way of life is upended-- but he is soon granted the opportunity to escape his exile.

'My grandmother once said that when a wolf comes to the village, a shepherd looks first to her own flock. The wolf bloods his teeth on other sheep, and the shepherd knows it will one day come for hers, but she clings to the hope that she might be able to keep him out. Until the wolf is at her door.’

Full review, minor spoilers, and content warnings under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Some sexual content. Blood, gore, violence, traumatic injury, suicide, and death. Torture and execution. Miscarriage. Body horror (kinda). Drug use.

Clocking in at just over 800 pages, The Priory of the Orange Tree is a long, detailed story. I tend to label things Epic Fantasy when they have world-changing stakes. While Priory certainly fits that criteria, it's the first fantasy book I've read in a while that really does feel like an epic. It stars a huge cast of interesting characters from many walks of life, all of whom find themselves caught up in a world-spanning conflict. It captures the sense of a standalone, grand adventure that shorter fantasy novels of today don't typically reach.

With a book this long, it would be easy to ramble on forever about everything I liked. However, I'm going to try to keep it short and simple.

One of my favorite things about this story was the sheer depth of the world. Lots of people compare this to The Lord of the Rings not for its tropes, but the attention to detail regarding the countries, politics, history, religion, and so on. I'm inclined to agree with this assessment. The world felt alive and multi-dimensional. I could pinpoint many parallels to our own mythologies and histories-- particularly drawn from Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. There's also a clear love of language in the story via its beautiful prose. I like to think I know English pretty well, but this book taught me quite a few new words! Might fuck around and call sunsets "rutilant" from now on.

I thought all four leads were interesting. Ead is kinda the "main" lead of the novel, although Tané overtakes her in the latter half. Everyone had different personalities and backstories, and I genuinely enjoyed all of their arcs. Niclays in particular would be an easy character to hate; of the four, he's the most selfish and does some real questionable shit. At the same time, it's hard not to sympathize with him. He's a sad, unjustly exiled elder who's lost the one man he cared about, and finds himself in a desperate situation. These types of characters are interesting to me; a glimpse of what anyone can become given the wrong circumstances and cruel treatment.

With stories like this, one of the most satisfying payoffs is how the different characters and stories come together. It was interesting to see how their paths converged and diverged over time, and ultimately how everything tied together in the end. I also appreciated the character relationships. I liked that Loth's close friendships with both Sabran and Ead were intimate yet platonic without some awkward love triangle.

From some story specifics... I'm a sucker for the bodyguard romance trope, and seeing it done with women in a mainstream novel gave me life. I thought the romance between Ead and Sabran was really sweet; I didn't see how it would work early on since Sabran was a little insufferable, but she had hidden depths (oh god, another weakness of mine). I also really liked the idea of traditional European and Asian dragons being diametrically opposed, and that being a core theme of the story. Intelligent and/or talking animals are another thing I adore in spec fic, so I dug characters like Aralaq. Kalyba's ongoing relevance and gradual exposition was also neat; I love minor world details that turn out super relevant later.

Also, the entire final battle/ending sequence was SO good. Really creative and action packed. Action scenes often blend together for me (and can be logistical nightmares) but Priory's climactic ending was just awesome. I don't want to spoil specifics, but it reminded me of many beloved epic battles in modern fantasy. Avatar the Last Airbender, How To Train Your Dragon, and Pirates of the Caribbean all came to mind.

My main criticism with Priory is that often, the plot relied on convenient coincidence to get the characters out of a jam or otherwise advance the story. I can excuse a minor contrivance or two for the sake of a smooth story, and the scope of this book is big enough that it'd be hard to avoid. But some are nuts. For example, Loth gets rescued from certain death by a giant ichneumon while traveling through the mountains. We later learn the ichneumon is Aralaq, a friend of Ead's, and he just happened to be in the middle of nowhere, far from his home, and stumbled upon Loth. Loth, who ALSO happens to be Ead's best friend... which Aralaq presumably doesn't know?

Another is the MAJOR SPOILER regarding the rising jewel's location. I didn't hate the twist itself, but there was so little build up to it. I wish there were more early hints to justify it, because with setup it would be a pretty cool development. These things didn't ruin my enjoyment of the story, but the borderline deus ex machina (machinae? machinas?) did take me out of it a bit. It’s possible I missed stuff so I’ll give some benefit of the doubt.

Overall, though, The Priory of the Orange Tree is a fun, world-spanning adventure. Like any long book, it's an investment to get into. However, if you're looking for a standalone, feminist fantasy epic, this is certainly a good place to start.

#10/10 #taylor reads #2021 reading challenge #bro this took exactly a month to read but in my defense it's long and i also powered through Pillars of Eternity lmfao

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kittybellestark · 3 years

Text

Straightening Things Out Part 2

Part 1

This is it guys, part 2, and then this fic is doneeeeeee, I can’t believe I actually finished this today, hope you enjoy it also why ya’ll gotta go and call it CPS, every time i go to write it i’m like uhhh american CAS

When Peter finally woke up he was in a bed. There was the familiar sound of his heart rate beeping out, the lights dimmed and a hand on his own. An oxygen mask was on his face, and he was hooked up to an IV.

Peter freaked out. This wasn’t where he was meant to be. He tried pushing himself up and off the bed, which caused horrible pains in his abdomen, stopping him from moving. Groaning Peter fell back onto the bed.

“Hey, hey, hey, Pete, it’s just me, Mr. Stark. You’re safe. We’re in the Med Bay. You’re okay. Put the Bambi eyes away, I’ll back up, whatever you need.”

Tony held both his hands up, keeping them in clear view of Peter. He took a few steps back watching Peter relax with each step he took backwards.

“Sorry. I just- sorry. I shouldn’t have called you.” Peter’s voice was rough and quiet, and it hurt him to use.

“No apologies, you did the right thing, kid. I’m glad you called, even if it was to have a panic attack in my car while spitting up blood and passing out. You felt safe around me. You did the right thing.”

Peter went to speak again and Tony held his hand up.

“You shouldn’t really be talking. You’re esophagus was torn pretty bad. Do you want to full run down?”

Peter hesitated before nodding.

“Torn trachea, bruised neck, broken ribs, bleeding stomach, bruised liver and kidneys, tear in the gastrointestinal track, as well as significant damage to the anus, what seems to be whip marks down your back and what appears to be self harm on your arms, legs, chest and stomach. And a concussion, with a broken nose, and a fractured cheekbone.”

Tony sat down on the chair across the room from Peter, trying to respect Peter boundaries. Peter’s eyes welled up with tears and Tony wanted nothing more than to go and hold Peter and make everything better.

“We, uh, had to call the police. They want to ask you some yes and no questions right now, and then when you can speak again they’ll want actually talk to you. I have to ask though, because of the severity and where a lot of the injuries occurred, did Skip rape you?”

Peter bit his lip, before making the active decision to ignore the question outright. Sure, he knew he should confirm the allegations, he knew he should. Peter knew it was wrong. Horribly aware that what Skip did was illegal and horrible, but he couldn’t help that one part of him that saw it as help. Because that is what Skip called it. It was only ever supposed to be to be help Peter. Skip only ever did this for Peter.

So Peter turned away and closed his eyes, hoping that his mentor would believe that this didn’t happen to him, that he wasn’t a sin, or shameful. Peter wanted to believe that Tony wouldn’t just abandon him. He had brought it on himself.

The pain. The torment. This was his responsibility. He knew better. Peter was supposed to be Spider-Man. He was supposed to be a hero and know right from wrong. And yet, it’s different when it happens to him.

It’s not abuse, it’s just a thing that happens. It’s not self harm, it’s just a way to have some relief. It isn’t rape, it’s just learning a way to only like women.

Peter has rationalized it all. Made up answers for everything. Fallen deep into a pool of lies. Drowning under the weight of his soon-to-be uncle and the rest of the world. Spider-Man isn’t there to help him. Spider-Man said “fuck you, buddy,” and took a nice little wander away from Peter’s life. There’s no want to help himself, or others, and there’s no guilt for not putting on the suit. Spider-Man was just a phase.

“Okay buddy, I get it you’re tired. You’ve been through it. I’ll tell them to come back in a little bit. But I’m not going to judge you, no matter what, okay? I’m not going to toss you out or throw you to the side. You’re important and whatever you’re going through I want to help.”

The next time Peter woke up his friends were there in the place of Tony. Ned, MJ and Harley all managed to fit themselves on the one small chair in the room, talking in hushed voices.

Peter watched them as they giggled to themselves, something about two pretty best friends or whatever. The trio all seemed tired, apprehensive even, but they were doing their best to remain positive.

“Oh my god, Peter you’re awake!” Ned shouted out, the first to notice.

Peter flinched back at the loud voice and the sudden movements of the three as they scrambled to try and get up, too entwined to be able to do it with any ease. They made it to Peter’s bedside flushed and with minimal injuries.

“Dude we were so worried. MJ and I were heading to your place because you weren’t answering and then we saw May and Skip get arrested and be put in the back of a police car.”

MJ elbowed Ned in the stomach, urging him to shut up, as clearly this wasn’t the best time to talk about Peter’s family getting arrested. Ned mumbled out some apologies, yet Peter didn’t seem to react. His eyes were blank and the expression on his face hadn’t changed since the group noticed he was awake.

“Peter?” Harley whispered.

Peter’s eyes flicked over to focus on Harley, and it was clear to everyone just how terrified Peter actually was. His jaw was tight and eyes just a little too wide. Peter was as stiff as a board, focused on whoever caught his attention and tracking their movements to make sure they aren’t a threat. The three moved backwards as slowly as they could so that Peter wouldn’t feel as threatened by their presence.

“Tony wouldn’t tell us the extent of your injuries because of HIPPA or whatever but he did say you’re not allowed to talk, so I guess it was really serious.” MJ started to say. “But don’t think I didn’t notice your arms and leg, I’m really angry that you lied to me, but I get it, okay? Whenever you want to tell us what happened we’ll listen and we won’t judge you or your actions.”

There was a moment where Peter considered telling them. He could write things out. Peter had already told the police using a written statement. If he just wrote it down, then they’d know. But then Peter thought of what Skip did to him. He remembered how Skip told him that he needed to be cured, that no one would love him or accept him as he is now.

Skip wasn’t a kind man, but Peter also knew that he had his moments. Like the time he held Peter as he sobbed, rubbing his back and carrying him to bed. Skip was doing it for the right reasons. He cared. It hurt. It hurt a lot when Peter got to know how nice Skip could be to then be face down on his bed, begging to be let go and free of Skip’s torment.

Instead of saying anything and letting his friends know what’s been happening Peter shook his head and turned himself to face away from them. The trio couldn’t see Peter like this. Not broken in a hospital bed over something he could have stopped.

He would have stopped it, right? If he truly didn’t want what was happening, he’d stop it. Instead he allowed it to happen for the results. For May. To be loved for who he is, even if he has to fake it. Peter knows he should have stopped what Skip was doing. He had the power to the entire time, and yet, he didn’t.

It was his own fault. MJ said that they won’t judge him, but Peter knows they would. They’d think he’s disgusting and want nothing to do with him. Peter created this situation and now he was going to lose everyone.

Peter was tired. He was going back to sleep.

He was finally released from the Med Bay. Dr Cho had finally deemed him strong enough to not be hooked up to an IV 24/7 and with no need of oxygen. Peter was still on bed rest, and he wasn’t allowed to be alone for long periods of time either. He had to drink protein shakes to regain his weight and he has sessions with a therapist set up for the next forever.

He was lucky that Tony has taken temporary custody of him. So instead of being in the Med Bay, Peter would be in his own bedroom. Tony and Pepper had both been incredible, extending their home to him and being by his side through everything. They hadn’t kicked him out yet, nor have they hit him or told him they don’t love him. Instead they continued reject what Skip had done. Tony and Pepper knew what Skip did to him, they were aware that he could have stopped it, and they still let him stay.

“Hey Roo, so I just got news that the police released May. Your statement pretty much cleared her because she wasn’t ever home. Obviously CPS won’t release you back into her care yet, but she had been asking to see you. I wanted to tell her no, but it should be your decision.”

Phineas and Ferb automatically paused when Tony started talking, thanks to FRIDAY. Tony kept his voice soft and held a reassuring smile on his face. Peter pulled his knees up to his chest, feeling himself start to scratched at the exposed skin on his ankles.

“Hey, hey, Pete it’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want too.”

Tony was quick to move to Peter, looking for permission before pulling Peter’s hands away, stopping him from hurting himself any further.

“Sorry, sorry- I didn’t- sorry. Didn’t realize what I was doing.”

“It’s okay kiddo, recovery isn’t always linear. You don’t need to talk to May, I’m more than happy to tell her no. It’s at your rate, no one is going to judge you for it.”

Peter nodded, leaning into Tony for the first time in a months for comfort. Tony stayed still for a moment allowing Peter to acquaint himself to kind human contact.

“Can I put my hand on your back, Peter?”

Peter nodded again and Tony beamed with pride, proud of his kid to be able to accept physical contact. Tony kept his one hand on Peter’s upper back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to bring comfort.

“I want to see her. If she didn’t know we shouldn’t punish her. It isn’t her fault he used May against me. I should have known, I should have.”

Tony felt Peter shake his head as his whole body seemed to fight itself between discomfort and trying to relax. Peter moved himself closer into Tony, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder instead.

“Pete, it wasn’t your fault. I know you don’t believe that yet, but I promise, this isn’t on you. If you aren’t ready to see May yet everyone will understand.”

The teen pulled away from Tony and considered the words spoken, face twisting in thought. After a moment Peter huffed and nodded. Tony smiled trying to be reassuring.

“I’ll be okay, can you just be in the room? It’ll just, make me feel better if someone else is there, I think.”

“Of course, I’ll be there if you need me.”

May sat in a chair, hoping to have chosen the right spot to not make Peter feel trapped. She hated what she had done to her kid. How could she had been unaware of what was happening in her home? To her family?

She deserved to have custody revoked, the fact that CPS wasn’t doing that boggled her. This situation only happened because May allowed a bad man into their home. Peter had said that he wasn’t getting along with Skip, that there was something off, and May should have believed him. But she was blind, and now Peter has paid the price.

Why did May allow herself to believe Skip’s word? She saw Peter slipping, she saw him struggle but then Skip would talk about how Peter confided in him and that he was giving Peter advice. Skip had made it seem like he was helping Peter. May had taken the extra shifts at work and was out more, unable to help, and was made to be a fool.

She should have never started dating again.

Peter and Tony finally enter the room and May’s heartbreaks at the sight of her nephew. Peter looked decades older with the guarded look on his face, holding himself. The clothing Peter wore was much too big, barely hanging onto him. There was an elastic band on each wrist, a clear sign to May that Peter had relapsed.

This was all her fault.

Tony sat on the couch sitting closer to May, leaving room for Peter farther away. Peter glared at the couch like it was a personal offense before sitting on the ground, leaning onto one of Tony’s legs.

“I’m sorry Peter, I didn’t know.”

May wanted to hug him, to make him feel better. Yet that was probably the last thing that Peter needed or wanted from here right now. Instead she dug her nails into the upholstery, trying to quell the urges to hold Peter and never let go.

“He said that you never accepted me. That you thought I needed to be cured. Was any of that true?” Peter’s voice was cold and hard, it didn’t hold any of the kindness it used to, no longer soft and light.

“No, baby, no of course not. I’m so sorry he used me against you. Skip manipulated the both of us and I’m so sorry I didn’t see it. I love you and accept you no matter what. What he said wasn’t true.”

The room fell silent. Peter started to rock back and forth as he processed May’s words. It didn’t take much longer for his eyes to look empty or for him to sob, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, Roo, you’re gonna be okay, you aren’t there anymore. We’re in the tower and you’re safe.” Tony whispered trying to get Peter to not fall into a full blown panic attack again.

“No, no it has to be true. I let him, he said- he told me that- no he was telling the truth. You don’t love me, not while knowing I also like men. You can’t. I let him- I did it for you, I didn’t want to be a disappointment anymore. He was in my head, he told me to hurt myself. I let him May, because I thought you didn’t love me. You said you were proud of me, because you talked to him, I told him it was working, that I was straight and he- and he raped me. Then you said you were proud of me because I was getting help from him. I- Ben would hate me. He would. He always said ‘With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility,’ and I had the power to stop it. I’m supposed to be Spider-Man I stopped this sort of thing from happening to others. I had the power to stop him, the responsibility to stop him and I didn’t because I wanted you to love me and not be disappointed in me. It has to be true. I didn’t go through all of that for you to say it wasn’t. No. I disagree with you.”

Peter pressed his nails into his face and started to drag them down, scratching at himself. Tony was quick to move down onto the ground, making sure not to touch Peter, only speaking in a soft whisper to help calm the teen.

May couldn’t help the tears that sprung to her eyes, or the way her heart crumbled at being the cause of Peter’s pain. She should have kept her eyes open, or listened to Peter when he said he didn’t like Skip. Why would she let herself believe that Peter’s problem was Skip was the fact that he was in Ben’s place? May caused all this pain and now she can’t even help him.

“I’m sorry, I should go. I’m so sorry Peter, I never wanted any of this to happen.” May spoke out as she got up and exited the room, needing to walk away, needing space, needing to give Peter his own space. She caused this, she can’t punish Peter for it either.

Peter didn’t like therapy very much. He didn’t like talking through his ‘traumas’ or his emotions either. She made Peter talk about his sexuality and his confusion over it now. Peter discussed how he used to identify as bisexual but how Skip wanted him to be straight and his he thought he was except for the fact that Harley existed.

Apparently he was making great progress. Though she might just say it to all her clients, Peter wasn’t sure. He just knew it didn’t feel like he was making any progress.

Peter still couldn’t be alone in a room with older men, except for Tony, he could hardly be alone with those his own age. He couldn’t help the anxiety that anyone was judging him and wanting to fix him. And his therapist said he still wasn’t ready to go back to school, or big crowds.

Really, it was a fancy way of saying Peter wasn’t ready for anything. Couch’s were still a no go, and beds depended on the day. Peter knew he could never go back to that apartment, but he also knew that May was looking at new places for them.

Progress was hard and slow and sometimes it didn’t feel like progress at all. But Peter was doing it. He’s getting there.

“Hey,” Peter said just slightly too loud.

He bounced on his heels, standing in the doorframe, ready to leave at any moment. Harley jumped in his seat, dropping his book onto his desk. Harley was quick to regain his composure resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on his desk.

“Hey, hey Peter? Uhm, do you want to come in, I can give you this chair if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

Peter considered for a moment, before deciding to stay where he was, not quiet comfortable with entering Harley’s room yet. So he shook his head, trying to get comfortable leaning against the doorframe, keeping his arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s okay, Peter. We can both sit on the ground? That way you can lean against the wall behind you, and then I can stay over here against the desk.”

Peter nodded, appreciating Harley for letting him stay outside of the room. He sat down on the ground before sliding back the few feet to lean against the wall. Harley sat down too, leaning on the side of his desk.

It took Peter a moment to find his words. Looking at Harley and his stupid lop-sided smile. Just existing near Harley made it hard to breathe, let alone hard to talk. And it just wasn’t fair. But he needed to do this. It was important.

“You terrify me, Harley Keener.” Peter’s voice was soft and his smile sad. “Not because I think you’re going to hurt me. Skip, uh, he never did anything, not until he found out I was bi. I didn’t like him very much before everything, but I feel he did the right thing, and I know my therapist says he did the wrong thing, but I disagree.”

Peter took a breath, and Harley just wanted to give Peter a hug and to comfort him. But that isn’t what was needed here. It was obvious Peter needed to talk to someone who won’t judge him. Harley was someone Peter could relate to because of what he went through in Rose Hill. Of course the homophobia never hurt Harley in the ways it hurt Peter, Harley was never raped, but he was beat up over and over and the church goers were never nice either.

“It started when I was talking to May. She was asking about school, and I had started talking about you. Please don’t blame yourself. It isn’t your fault and I didn’t get hurt because of you. But I was talking about you and May asked if I liked you, and I said I did. That’s when he started doing things. I brought up the new dreamy transfer from Tennessee and that was it.”

Pausing for a moment, Peter felt his throat burn and how hard it was to talk. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and took a shaky breath in. Harley held a hand over his mouth, feeling responsible for the pain that was inflicted on Peter. This was harder than Harley thought it was going to be.

“It’s not you’re fault Harley. Okay? It’s my own. At first he just wanted me to cut myself, anytime I had a sinful thought, I used to do that when I was younger, so once the razor was in my hands it was just so easy. But it wasn’t making me straight like he wanted, so he started beating me, but that still didn’t work. Then he came in my room drunk once, claimed I was rubbing off on him. That was the first time he ever touched me. And I started to look at you, and all men really with fear. I didn’t feel attraction, only fear. I thought it worked. I was finally straight y’know. I was so excited to tell Skip, because it was working and May was going to love me again and I was going to be normal. I told him. But that’s when things started. He said I gave him my disease and he had to cure himself. I was straight Harley, I was finally normal, but it kept happening and I was going to die. I knew it. He was going to kill me, Harley, and I ran, which I shouldn’t have. Skip was just trying to help. He wanted to make me better. It was all my fault and I shouldn’t have left. I’m supposed to be Spider-Man, I should have been able to handle it. I should have stayed longer.”

Harley couldn’t help the tears, letting them silently fall. He hated that Peter blamed himself for this. All Peter did was admit his attraction to his family and it nearly killed him. While Harley knew he wasn’t the reason for Peter’s pain, it surely felt like it.

“Peter-“

“No, wait, I’m not done. I said you terrify me. But it’s not because you’re scary or I think you’re going to hurt me. You terrify me Harls, because no matter what Skip did, I still liked you, and I shouldn’t have anymore because he was fixing me. Skip was fixing me but he couldn’t stop me from liking you, Harley, and that terrifies me.”

Peter’s shoulders shook as he tried not to cry, to not dwell on his trauma. He still believed that Skip did the right thing, no one was able to convince him otherwise. It broke everyone’s heart how Peter knew that the things were done to him were wrong, but believed that they were done for the right reasons. Harley hated that Peter hated himself over something he used to be so proud of. It was torture to watch Peter go from this bubbly ball of joy, to someone who retreated so far into themselves and couldn’t trust anyone around him. Harley watched Peter’s spirit die and he tracked his food intake. He should have known.

“Did I ever tell you why I moved to New York?” Harley then chose to say.

He knew that Peter probably didn’t want apologies or reassurance that things weren’t his fault. Peter wouldn’t have come to Harley for that, that was Tony’s area now.

“To go to a better school and work with Mr. Stark?”

“I was forced out of the closet back home. Some kids found out and then spread it around town. Now it spread like wildfire as we all knew each other. My mama was scarred for me. I couldn’t go to church without someone spittin’ at me and I couldn’t go to school without getting beat up. People were tryna’ hit me with their cars. All because I was ‘against the word of god.’ Then one day I was pulled into the fields behind the school and these kids held a gun to my head. The local police blamed me for having a gun to my head and my mama and sister thought I’d leave the house and never come home. So I got sent here when Tony found out about it. I didn’t choose to come out here, but they were going to kill me one day and it was the only way my family could make sure I’m safe.”

Peter was silent to Harley’s confession and Harley couldn’t stop the self-deprecating smile that made its way to his face. It wasn’t something Harley liked to talk about, but this is what Peter needed. Harley blamed himself in the beginning the same way Peter blames himself now. Peter needed to relate and to see that someone else gets it. Nothing was going to change for Peter if he didn’t see that others knew what it was like. Peter was just too stubborn like that.

“Harls…” Peter finally whispered, moving into the boys room.

Peter was cautious with his movements, his eyes holding no trust and he moved closer to Harley. Holding his breath to not scare Peter, Harley did his best to not move, to not do anything that could harm Peter. Finally, Peter stopped, still in the ground and kicking out his one leg to lean against Harley’s. It was a stretch for Peter to reach Harley and he was closer than he originally thought he’d be. Harley’s eyes were wide, blue eyes filled with tears, as the look on his face seemed to ask permission for this to be okay.

“You didn’t deserve that Harley. That was your home and it isn’t fair that you didn’t feel safe there because of who you are.”

Harley smiled and nodded. This, this is what Peter needed. Harley told Peter something personal and hard and something he never wanted to talk about, and Peter got it. He understands the problem.

“I know that now. But I didn’t when I first got here. It was my home, just like it was yours. We should have been able to feel safe.”

And then Peter really got it.

Tony, Pepper, Harley and Peter were all having breakfast together. It was Friday, and Harley didn’t have school. Peter was in a new spot around the table was between Tony and Pepper, and across from Harley. The new spot was a safe enough spot where Peter could actually eat some of his food. So they had pancakes and some fruit, hoping to get Peter engaged and acclimated to a scheduled like again.

Everyone was dressed in regular clothes, ready for their day, except for Peter who wore his pajamas and oversized hoodie. Peter hadn’t had a haircut since the beginning of things with Skip many months ago so his curls were long and unruly, covering his face well enough when his head was tilted forward as it so regularly was now.

“Peter, honey, do you have any plans today?” Pepper asked, keeping her tone light.

“I’m supposed to FaceTime May later, she wants to show me the new place and get my opinion on couches. And Dr. Mitchell says I need to leave the tower and go on a walk or something, I guess.” Peter’s voice was barely above a whisper, and he shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

Pepper hummed, adjusting one of Peter’s curls to fall more naturally.

“Would you like one of us to come with you? Tony has made these great nano-tech masks so we wouldn’t be recognized.”

Peter seemed to consider this, eyes flitting back and forth between Tony and Pepper, before they moved to the elevator. It took another moment for everyone who wasn’t advanced to hear the movement of the mechanisms. The doors opened and Happy came out a smile painted onto his face.

“Guys, the jury made their final decision. Skip’s going to jail, they’re putting him on the predator registry. He’s going to be there the rest of his life.” Happy announced, dropping donuts onto the table.

Everyone cheered except for Peter, happy to see such a horrible person go to jail. Yet through everyone’s happiness, Peter couldn’t help but feel it was wrong.

“Kid, you okay?” Tony asked when the boy stayed silent for too long.

Peter looked up at him, wide eyed and ready to cry. He did feel relief about the idea of never seeing Skip again, but he couldn’t help but feeling like this wasn’t the right move either. Of course Peter couldn’t help but reflect to the conversation with Harley, about how he would have died if he stayed in Rose Hill, the same as if Peter stayed with Skip. It was finally starting to make sense that Skip was wrong, even though it didn’t feel like he was and Peter was confused.

“I need- I need- I can’t.” Peter sobbed. “Where’s May- I need- I can’t- May- I just. Please.”

He tried pushing himself away from the table, to get himself away from the people from his thoughts. Peter shoved at the table, moving the whole thing and felt his legs crumble when he tried to stand up. Breathe, he needs to breathe, and he needs air and he needs to get away.

Someone touches him.

Peter fly’s farther back, crawling away from Skip, from his touch. This was not where Peter wanted to be. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his nails into his skin, didn’t realize as he dragged them and ripped his skin open. Peter was scared and he just needed to go away.

“Don’t- don’t touch me, please, no.”

He needed to get away. Away, away, away. Not here. Not with Skip he couldn’t let Skip come near him. Skip was a threat, an enemy, except he helped. He did it to help, he was always nice after. Skip would hold Peter as he sobbed and give him a bath and take him to bed. He wasn’t all bad, he was nice sometimes. Bad things just happened because of the man.

“Hi baby, it’s me. You want to tell what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” May spoke.

Peter couldn’t remember May arriving. But here she is, crouching down in front of him wearing her scrubs. Mays hair was falling into her face, and she made sure to stay just a few feet away, in his full view.

“He’s gone. May, he can’t- he wasn’t bad be he deserves it. He deserves it, May. Oh my god. Skip is gone.”

Relief flooded Peter. He was free, finally free. No one in his home was going to tell him that he is a disgrace or a sin. Peter is safe, for the first time in forever, he is safe again. No Skip, no unsafe home. Peter has his family, and that’s really all he needs.

Peter feels safe. His family isn’t going to hurt him.

He’ll be okay.

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anepiphany · 4 years

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okay wait everyone is doing these cute posts about their moots and so i’d like to write out what havoc a team of one of my mutuals and i would wreck if we were in the bau:

(this is me being dumb at 2 am and i’m definitely going to make some cute sort of post too but i felt like doing this)

((also this took me forever to do lmao so if there’s anyone i forgot i swear it is nothing against you i just did moots i felt like i knew well enough to explain this for))

@ellegreenawy : y’all celie and i would be an iconic team because we come up with so many good ideas but our best ideas are always in the middle of the night. so you best know if reid ain’t solving the case, celie and i crack it at 2 am. also, celie is definitely rossi’s favorite. she’s the only person he lets cook with him regularly, and i’m the one who definitely got distracted and forgot to put water in the pasta pot so i ended up setting the pasta on fire so i am banned from the kitchen most of the time (it’s not that i can’t cook, it’s that i got distracted that one time and rossi refuses to believe me). oh and her and i would definitely write a book together the way rossi did. and we’d guest lecture together too.

@babyblockcolorcat : fabs and i would def be in seasons 8-9 of cm together and we would get nothing done because this girl would not be able to function around alex blake. but also faby would rock a blazer. her and em definitely share a closet. faby around alex is like reid around practically any girl in the early seasons, and it’s kind of adorable but also the rest of us (me and the team) are standing around like “why the fuck is alex so oblivious” (of course this is an au where alex isn’t married). i mean the whole “good morning, faby!” from alex and then faby accidentally walks into a pole and spills her coffee

@reidsemily : bro bekah and i would be an elite partnership. we definitely spend our free time with penny and morgan because i feel like the four of us would be iconic together. also if we’re called in for a case in the middle of the night her and i are definitely the ones that show up and chug five cups of coffee before we can even say a word. and then someone (probably jj) is going to point out that my blazer is inside out and that bekah is wear two different shoes and we’re just going to drink another cup of coffee

@linguinereid : i would love to hear conversations between bee and reid because i’d probably learn more from them than my entire school life. bee is definitely a major part as to why we can solve all these cases, and i feel like her and i interrogating a suspect together would be interesting. i’d probably talk enough to bore the unsub to death, and then bee would just say things and psychoanalyze the suspect until they broke

@ssaemilyprentits : okay so i feel like steph and morgan have been in a prank war since she started working at the bau and somehow i got involved in it and now we’re just this chaotic mess of “ok ani wait you distract morgan and i’ll go mix salt into his coffee” and “steph keep derek busy so i can go and stick this sign that has his phone number and ‘call me for foot massages’ written on it on the back of his car”

@whiskey-fluent and @jenniferxprentiss : i wholeheartedly believe that h and ash would be the most sarcastic and upfront agents. like straight up would make the suspects tremble during interrogation. and they’d always be sent to do stuff together; they’d be the dream team. i know technically i don’t fit into this equation but like their energy together as fbi agents would be immaculate so i needed to talk about it. like that one episode where the unsub is morgan’s cousin’s husband who forced her to marry him and jj and emily walk into the interrogation room and are conversing about will and henry? yeah, that’s h and ash. i’d probably be penny in the trio.

@heat-waveee : ok i think lb and i would honestly be a very productive duo during work. like she’d def keep my procrastination in check on paperwork days and we’d be good at finding info together during cases. and lb would be great at talking to eyewitnesses and friends/family of the victim(s). but when the case is over? we’d be insane. like at dinner parties with the team, nights out at the bar- we’d be going crazy. oh also we’d be crushing on em so much

@apologetically-apologetic : so abbie and i would be great at coming up with theories because in the short amount of time i’ve talked to her we’ve had so many genius ideas. i think we’d observe crime scenes and just piggyback theories onto each other until we figure out a fairly solid one and then use evidence we find later and adjust or expand our theory and then we’d solve cases really well. also, i think if we ever got like trapped with an unsub or like taken together by an unsub we’d definitely come up with a good plan and there’s like an 85% chance that we’d be fine

@reidemandweep : roo and i would just be an organized mess tbh. our desks are for sure next to each other, and whoever comes in first makes coffee for themselves and the other person as well. we’d probably hold off on paperwork till the very last minute but turn it in right on time. i also think roo and i would make a great team when interrogating a suspect. like that one episode where jj and morgan pretend to be a couple and talk to that white supremacist guy? yeah roo and i would be the gay poc couple to annoy the unsub if they were bugged by that. also, we’d definitely be caught trash talking strauss. like “ugh she’s so annoying and messes stuff up for us a lot” and then everyone’s quiet and we’re like “she’s right behind us isn’t she”. we’d also tease rossi about dating her but in the end i don’t think we’d hate her completely because we’re nice enough to understand she’s doing her job but also we’d be like “no <3″ to most of the stuff she says

@eusuntgroot : hj and i would honestly be very nice people together i think. well, hj would be my better half. she’d be really good at talking to families of the victims, because she’s great at being empathetic and she’s so caring. the two of us would probably be sent to speak with victims and eyewitnesses because we’d be good together at calming them down and being there for them and trying to get information. also, hj and i would be great at talking an unsub down together if necessary

@agenthotchner : honestly i feel like snow and i would be really badass undercover. like i get very “entropy” vibes from the two of us. like tara and morgan vibes in that episode. snow and i would most definitely find an unsub while undercover at a bar, lure him outside, and then threaten to hit him in the face with a pair of heels as we handcuff him and lead him to the cop car

@davidrossi-ismydad : sammy and i would have such chaotic energy during paperwork days- hanging out with penelope, locking jj and emily in a room until they got their sexual tension out of the way, sammy hanging out in hotch’s office doing god knows what. sammy and i would definitely make everyone laugh whenever they needed to but sammy would also come up with some of the most genius ideas that the others wouldn’t think of. he’d would definitely be the character that at the 30 minute mark of the episode is like “maybe we’re thinking this part of the profile wrong” and coming up with the correct profile and we’d be like “yes you’re onto something”

@cinnamon-rroll : okay jemma and i would be great at stakeouts. like we’d have the snacks ready and would have the most interesting conversations while watching our surroundings from the car with binoculars. i also think we’d be good undercover, too

@spideyspencer : listen avery would also be so good at interrogating suspects. like so amazing. she’d just be so good at intimidating them and not taking their shit whatsoever. and when we’d be chasing an unsub i’d definitely chase after them and she’d find an easier route and be standing there waiting for us. she’d be putting handcuffs on the unsub and i’d be wheezing and half out of breath like “how *wheeze* did you *wheeze* get here *wheeze* so *wheeze* fast?”

@prentiss-dinozzo : i feel like noelle and i would probably be like tara together: badass but also good critical thinkers and smart. and i think we’d do similar things to what reid did: go through case files, make geographic profiles, that sort of thing. and i also think we’d be good at guest lecturing together

(not me being dumb and forgetting caitlin because i did this at literally 2 am ugh!!)

@themetaphorgirl : okay caitlin gives me very much garcia vibes and i for sure think her and i in the bau would be best friends with penny. we’d be hosting parties/dinners and coming up with fun ways for all of us to hang out and we’d just have elite energy. we definitely convinced the bau to have a family bowling night and family game night and things like that. i think we’d also be good at talking unsubs down and definitely would be the ones talking to the friends/family of the victims. also, i have a feeling that caitlin would be good at making negotiations too!

#ani rambles #my beautiful beautiful moots #i love you guys

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anjuschiffer · 4 years

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[Maribat] Sparks Au - Snippet 4

Well...its been a while! Enjoy!

Tags are after the read more line!

MASTERLIST | PREV

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Context: It’s halfway through the week (as is four or maybe five days after Damian taking care of Alicia) and Luka is finding it strange as to why he hasn’t called to find out what Alicia’s weekly routine at school is like. So Luka reaches out first. Although it required being transferred over hundreds of times to even reach Damian’s personal number.

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Luka waited in the city park, tapping his foot as he mentally listened to the new piece he was composing.

The sun was finally out, breezes were cool, the perfect day to stroll outside, or in Luka’s case, check in on his daughter...

He stopped tapping his foot, instead running his hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh.

His daughter, huh?

“Papa!” Alicia cried out, Luka snapping from his thoughts. “There’s so much I have to tell you about!”

——

The two men sat together at an ice cream parlor, listening as Alicia reencountered the past few days, Luka noticing how Damian kept interrupting her whenever she tried to mention school or whenever she was about to use Damian’s actual name.

“-and yesterday! I won the dodgeball competition!” Alicia said with a grin.

“Well done!” Luka said with a smile, Alicia’s grin growing wider.

“It’s all thanks to Da-M.Wayne!” Alicia said, smiling at the man.

“I couldn’t say no to helping you train for the match.” Damian said with a smile, before a frown replaced it. Luka narrowed his eyes a bit, wondering why he frowned.

“Something wrong?” Luka decided to ask, Alicia’s eyes widening when she noticed Damian’s frown, quickly scanning the area. “Alicia, are you-“

“11 crows.” Damian bluntly said, looking at his phone.

Luka watched as Alicia stopped looking around, quickly turning her attention to those in front of her. Luka frowned.

“What else has M.Wayne helped you with while you are with him?”

“Aside from helping me with my homework,” a hum. “He also taught me some gymnastics!” Alicia said with a smile. “Did you know that M.Wayne has a brother who loves gymnastics? I wanna meet him one day!”

“You taught her gymnastics?” Luka asked with a raised brow, Damian looking at him before sliding a card at him. “Holy shit.” Luka whispered as he saw the card. “Do you know-“

“I’m a billionaire.” Damian casually stated, Alicia grinning, Damian’s expression softening. “I’d gladly throw any amount if it means that Alicia always has a smile on her face.”

At that, Luka frowned, listening as Alicia talked about their new routine.

They’d wake up, stretch together, Damian would make breakfast, take her to school, work on some papers while she did her homework if she didn't have school, they’d eat lunch, pick her up from school (if she had it), watch a movie, arts and crafts, make dinner and then watch another movie before heading to bed.

“And I get to choose whichever story I want!” Alicia squealed, taking another bite of her ice cream.

“Is that so?”

“Yup! M.Damian thinks it’s fine since my grades are always at the top of the class.”

“Don’t you think you’re pampering her too much?” Luka asked, watching as Damian didn’t look up from his phone.

“Pampering? She deserves to be rewarded for her hard work.” Damian said, lifting his eyes off his phone. “Besides, we both know why I do it.”

At those words, Luka’s lips morphed into a thin line.

“You can buy her as many materialistic things she could want, but that would never make up for the time you lost-”

“I know that.” Damian looks over to Alicia, watching as she savored her last spoonful of chocolate mint. “I just want her to be happy with the small amount of time she has with me right now.”

A comfortable silence settled over Luka, his shoulders relaxing upon hearing those words.

That’s right. How stupid was he? At the end of the day, Alicia still thought Luka was her actual father.

“Well, I have to get back to the studio.” Luka said, getting up from his seat.

“Papa, you’re leaving already?” Alicia cried, also getting off her chair. “It’s still too early for you to leave!”

“As much as I would like to stay, I have to get back to work.” Luka reminded her, specifically leaving Marinette out of the reasons why he had to leave. He didn’t want to ruin her smile. “But you can always call or FaceTime me whenever you want, okay?”

Alicia smiles at that, giving her father a grin, Luka wondering how many he had missed while she was under Damian’s care.

“Okay!”

“See you soon mon petit tresor.” Luka kissed her forehead, causing Alicia to erupt into a giggling fit.

Alicia and Damian watched as he left, Alicia waving her hand until Luka turned a corner.

“M.Wayne.”

“Dad is fine.” Damian reassured, watching her grin.

“Dad, Corvus was at three, not 11.” Alicia argued, stretching out her hands. It took Damian a while to figure out what she wanted before handing her the pastel blue bag he had recently bought for her.

“True, Corvus was at three,” Alicia swelled with pride upon getting it right, “but this time I was referring to their number symbolism.” Damian watched Alicia mumble about the two systems as she worked with the tablet in her hands.

He let out a happy huff when he watched her connect the pieces.

“Are we finally going to launch the plan?!” Alicia squealed, her smile infectious.

“Tomorrow, during lunch, you’ll start Operation: Get It Back.”

“Should we start with observing her?” Alicia asked, handing the tablet over to Damian, the screen already tracking Corvus’ location.

Damian beckoned her over, Alicia dragging her chair over to Damian, the two looking over at the tablet.

“Seems like she’s…”

“I’m sorry about yesterday and trying to take the necklace from you.” Alicia said, looking Xochitl, Xochitl feet away from her. “I thought it was the one I lost. Maman’s necklace.”

“Well, it’s not. Ronald gave it to me.” Xochitl defended, putting her hands over the necklace.

“I-I know that, but it just looks like Maman’s.” Alicia said, about to take a step forward when she remembered Damian’s advice.

Ask before you touch. If you just try to grab it again, that’s it. The mission is over.

“Can I see it? I promise to let it go once I finish looking at it!” Alicia promised, raising her right hand and offering a pinky promise.

“You promise?”

“I do.” Alicia said, happy to see Xochitl seal the promise.

Xochitl let Alicia hold the necklace, not expecting her to cover the necklace in some weird powder, brush it off and saw some weird patterns on it.

“What is that?” Xochitl asked, about to touch it before Alicia stopped her.

“See that? That’s boy cooties.” Alicia said, Xochitl cringing at it. “This is to take it off.” Alicia explained placing tape over it, peeling it off and putting it into a plastic bag. “Dad knows how to forever get rid of boy cooties, so I’m going to give it to him.”

“How did you know it has boy cooties?”

“Well, since it’s not mine, it should have.” Alicia said, storing the evidence away in her bag. “If it were my necklace, it wouldn’t have boy cooties since I never let anyone touch it. Not even Papa.” Xochitl looked at her in awe, tackling her into a hug.

“Thank you for getting rid of it! Oh! Did you watch the new episode of Untold?”

“I knew I forgot to do something! What happened?”

“Well…”

Alicia grinned as she saw Damian outside of the school, waiting for her with a smile on his face.

“Dad!” Alicia said, running to him, Damian catching her. “I got the prints of fingers!”

“Fingerprints.” Damian corrected, ruffling her hair. “Now that we have that, we can go to phase 2: Flip-a-roo.”

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @myazael @maribat-is-lifeblood @amayakans @bzz75 @mochegato @multplelifes @toodaloo-kangaroo @emo-elaine13 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @aestheticnpoetic @littleblue5mcdork @gabbie-gabbs

I also want to apologize to @gabbie-gabbs for not noticing that I was missing your name on this AU and am so sorry it took me this long to realize QQ

#maribat #maribat sparks au #maribat dad!damian #maribat luka couffaine #oc: alicia couffaine #oc: xochitl descoteaux

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

Text

Part of You Indefinitely

Yes, I’ve found my way into the Schitt’s Creek fandom - it’s a lovely, hopeful place to be. And of course, having met these wonderful people, I need to throw some angst and h/c their way. Please enjoy this, the first chapter of my whump!Patrick fic.

Thanks as always to my beta @perryavenue for coming along with me to yet another fandom :)

David/Patrick, M, A03 (tags/warnings this chapter: injury, hospitalization, loss of consciousness, blood (minor))

Chapter 1

David is arranging a new shipment of lavender sage lip balms by the cash register – he’s not sure they will sell as well as the honey vanilla but they are definitely more interesting – when he hears the crash.

He grumbles again at Patrick’s insistence on spending their Sunday morning at the store when they could have just as easily slept in another few hours, and ambles to the backroom to see what happened. It’s the last calm thought he processes.

There are wires hanging from a ceiling light fixture, a step ladder tilted at an angle against the shelves, and Patrick, lying on the floor, oddly twitching. David crashes to his knees, hands flying to Patrick’s head, as words flow out of his mouth in a panicked stream. “Patrick – Patrick- are you okay? Patrick-”

Patrick is still breathing, David can feel his breath on his cheek when he presses his face close, but he’s not responding. David’s hands are fluttering up and down Patrick’s body, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong. He tries to hold Patrick’s head steady as his husband’s muscles continue to spasm. “Patrick, wake up. Please, come on, please, Patrick.”

David can feel something warm and wet in Patrick’s hair, and he faintly realizes that Patrick is bleeding. “Oh my god, Patrick, open your eyes, please.” He fumbles his phone out of his pocket and calls emergency services, one hand resting on Patrick’s head, trembling so hard he can only hope the operator can understand what he’s saying.

Something in his brain finally connects the wires still swinging above him with Patrick unconscious on the floor and his breath leaves him in a horrified gasp. “Send help now, right now. I think my husband has been electrocuted.”

*****

It’s David’s first time riding in an ambulance while he is sober enough to remember it, and it’s terrifying. He can’t wish for anything to dull his senses right now, though, because he needs to be here for Patrick. He needs to get a grip, to stay strong, to not fall apart like he absolutely thinks he’s about to do, because Patrick needs him to keep it together.

The EMTs don’t offer much information, and the ride to the hospital in Elmdale is a nightmare of spiraling anxiety. David feels like his chest is going to implode, the only thing keeping him from losing it completely is his hand on Patrick’s ankle, his arm stretched out to touch him in the only place he can reach.

He wants to say something, to do something, but his voice seems to have abandoned him. Finally, the questions in his head break through. “Is he going to be okay?”

He barely hears the noncommittal answer. Patrick has to be okay. Their story can’t end here. They haven’t even been married a year. David has plans for their one-year wedding anniversary, only a few months away. He’s going to take Patrick on a hike. He’s going to do it right, make up for how David almost ruined Patrick’s proposal with his grumpy mood. He’s not going to complain, and Patrick’s not going to get stabbed in the foot with a branch. David is going to pack a picnic, with Patrick’s favorite foods this time, and serenade him at sunset - or maybe not quite sunset, because hiking back down in the dark seems like a bad idea, but he still has time to figure that out. They still have time, they are supposed to have time. Lots of time.

David’s come far enough to believe that he’s pretty good at making Patrick happy, and at letting himself be happy, but there’s so much more he wants to do.

So many more smiles he needs to see on Patrick’s face.

There’s a rush of activity as they arrive at the hospital, and David has to let go of Patrick’s ankle, even the loss of that small connection paining him. “I’ll be right here,” he says, although Patrick can’t hear him, and no one is listening. “I’ll be here.”

*****

David is pacing in the waiting room. He has already filled out the necessary forms, his handwriting barely legible since he’s still shaking all over, and now there is nothing to do but wait. He knows he should probably call someone and let them know what’s going on, but Patrick’s parents are on an Alaskan cruise, and his own parents are in Fiji. Stevie’s in New York for a conference, and Alexis is in L.A. He’s got to handle this on his own.

David used to be good at handling crises. He prided himself on it. Even when he was at the height of his drug happy party boy phase, he was always able to make a call to the right consulate and get Alexis sprung from whatever ridiculous situation she had wound up in. He could act the part of a confident, competent savior, equipped with enough money and pull to get things done. But things are different now. Patrick has changed him, has cut right through all the walls he built to protect himself. His defenses are gone. And now this panicking, flailing, frightened man is all Patrick has left.

It seems like forever but finally a doctor comes out to talk with him. Patrick is stable, but still unconscious. Apparently he is more impaired than would be expected from a minor electric shock, because he hit his head when he fell. Tests are being run.

David takes a step towards the doctor as his vision narrows, and someone is there next to him, a hand on his arm. “Would you like to sit down?” He doesn’t seem to have any choice, as he’s pushed into a chair, and a moment later handed a cup of water.

David takes a sip, then shakes his head, squeezing his eyes together and forcing himself to take a deep breath. “When can I see him? Can I see him, please?”

Not yet, they tell him. Soon. They’ll let him know.

*****

<i>Four hours earlier</i>

David wakes to the feel of his husband’s lips on his own, and he hums and wraps a hand around Patrick’s head and holds him close. But instead of finding a sleep-warm, enticingly aroused and naked Patrick shuffling closer to him under the sheets, he opens his eyes to see Patrick sitting on the edge of the bed, already showered, a towel around his waist.

“Mmm, no, come back to bed.”

“Can’t do that. We’re going to the store early, remember?”

David groans and flops over, pulling the duvet over his head. “I don’t want to.”

“But we said we’d do it, and if we don’t, our lovely shelves will be empty on one of our best selling days of the week.”

David doesn’t really care to remember this fact, although it’s true. Thursday afternoon he and Patrick had gotten into a disagreement about whether to keep sourcing peppermint foot cream from a particular vendor, and by the time David shut his mouth long enough to figure out why Patrick had developed a sudden aversion to Mr. Braden (he was unforgivably rude to their intern), some rather less than pleasant things had been said by David, too. David suggested he make it up to Patrick by trading their regular Thursday evening at the store doing inventory and stocking shelves for an impromptu date night, and Patrick had agreed, on the condition that they come in early on Sunday instead.

“I’d like to suggest an amendment to our agreement,” David says, sitting up and slinging both arms around Patrick’s neck, loving the smile it brings to his husband’s face. “Come back to bed for just a little while, and I’ll put all the labels on the body milk bottles myself.” Patrick doesn’t like sticking labels on the bottles, he says the adhesive makes his fingertips itch.

“We’ll be late,” Patrick objects, but he’s already relaxing into David’s arms.

David knows Patrick’s protest is mostly for show. He runs his tongue up the side of Patrick’s neck, inhaling the smell of his warm, damp skin. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Patrick caves, attacking David’s mouth in a hungry kiss, as they both fall back onto the bed. “You always do.”

*****

It seems like forever, but finally someone comes and tells him that he can see Patrick. They lead David down hallways and around corners and finally into a room. He goes past an empty bed and a partly pushed back curtain and then he’s there, staring helplessly at his husband, laid out unnaturally where he absolutely does not belong.

All the tropes are true, David thinks to himself. Patrick looks small, diminished by the machines and the wires and the strangeness of the setting. He’s lying flat on his back, which is just wrong – Patrick sleeps on his side, his knees always bent, body twisted around a pillow or the sheets or, when at all possible, David. He says it’s because he doesn’t breathe well lying on his back, but David knows he likes the comfort of it, of being surrounded and held. David likes it too.

They’re a good pair, right for each other in all the most important ways. David swallows hard and moves closer to this fragile version of his beloved husband. <i>Patrick has to be okay.</i>

“Here, sit down,” the nurse at his side says, sliding a chair closer to the bed. “You can touch him.”

David sits down, stiffly, and hovers his hand near Patrick’s.

“You won’t hurt him.” The nurse is looking at Patrick’s chart, and then back to David. “He hit his head pretty hard, but there’s no sign of any other injuries.”

“Is he… is he in pain?” David thought Patrick was still unconscious.

“No, he shouldn’t be,” she says. “But we’ll ask him when he wakes up, and go from there.”

David bites his lip, and forces the words out. “He’s going to wake up, isn’t he?”

The nurse puts her hand on his arm, and David forces himself not to flinch. “There’s nothing to be gained by not staying positive,” she says patronizingly, patting him twice and then, mercifully, leaving the room.

David indulges in a moment of fury, imagining himself storming out of the room and demanding to speak to a doctor, throwing a Moira Rose-style tantrum until someone gives him better customer service, but then he sees Patrick’s hand twitch and all thoughts of histrionics disappear.

“Patrick?” David takes his husband’s hand and squeezes it. “Patrick, are you awake?” He reaches over and runs a finger along Patrick’s cheek. “I’m right here. Open your eyes, baby, look at me.”

Shaking, he leans close and presses a kiss to Patrick’s dry lips, and then another. But there’s no response, no Sleeping Beauty moment of grateful awareness. David takes in a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and sits back up.

“It’s okay,” he says, scooting the chair closer so that he can rest his elbows on the bed and hold Patrick’s free hand in both of his own. “You don’t have to wake up yet. You can sleep some more if you need to. Rest all you want. Heal that beautiful head. I’ll be here when you wake up, Patrick. I’ll be right here.”

*****

A doctor comes by a little while later, and tells David what he’s pretty much figured out on his own – they can’t say when Patrick will wake up. So far, they don’t have any reason to believe he won’t, which is good, as far as it goes. It’s not very precise, but Patrick suffered a head injury along with some level of electric shock, so they have to wait and see. They’ll run some more tests tomorrow if there’s no change, but they are “cautiously optimistic,” whatever that means.

After the doctor leaves David makes the mistake of googling “traumatic head injury.” He reads for a few minutes and then practically throws his phone across the room, watching as it slides across the linoleum floor and comes to a stop by the IV stand. He’s historically not very good at looking on the bright side, but he refuses to entertain the possibility that Patrick is going to be permanently disabled from his attempt to make the backroom overhead light stop flickering.

He leans down against the bed, resting his forehead against Patrick’s shoulder, his hand still wrapped in his own. He can feel the panic rising in his chest again, and he fights it, not wanting to be any more useless to Patrick than he already is.

“Hey, I know I said you could rest, but maybe just wake up for a minute?” he says softly into Patrick’s ear. “Just squeeze my hand, or blink your eyes. Can you do that for me?” He waits, not really expecting a reaction, but it doesn’t seem fair to ask for something and then not wait for an answer. “No matter what happens, I’ll be here, okay? Even if you’re hurt, even if…” David can’t really put into words what it might be like if Patrick doesn’t recover. “No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together. Just come back to me, okay? I can’t… I won’t make it if you don’t. I need you.”

“David.”

David looks up to see Alexis standing by the foot of Patrick’s bed, looking almost as pale as Patrick. Then she moves closer and folds David into a tight hug, squeezing him until he can hardly breathe. It’s the safest he’s felt since he heard the crash in the back room.

After a few minutes of Alexis’s pointy chin digging into his shoulder, David eases himself back. “Maybe give arm day a rest,” he says softly, as she loosens her boa-constrictor hold around his waist.

“Everyone always says I’m stronger than I look,” Alexis says, tilting her head as she gazes at him. “And you are too, David.”

He shrugs and glances away, his gaze inevitably going to Patrick, still just as quiet and unresponsive as he was a moment ago, and then back to his sister. “How are you here?” he asks, not wanting to dwell on the topic of his questionable ability to handle this particular situation. “I thought you were in L.A.”

“That was last week.” Alexis drops her bag to the floor, then drags a chair around from the other side of the curtain and positions it next to David’s. “I was in Toronto, working with a new client, when Jocelyn called me.”

David blinks. “Jocelyn?”

“Yes, David, Jocelyn called me, when you didn’t answer your phone – and so did Twyla, Roland, Ronnie, and everyone else.” She waves her hand, apparently to indicate the universe of people blowing up her phone.

“But… why?”

“David, did you really think that an ambulance could show up in the middle of town and whisk you and Patrick away without anyone noticing?” Alexis boops his nose and looks from Patrick back to David. “They’re worried about you. Half of the town is in the waiting room right now.”

“Wait, what?”

Alexis lets a smile tug at the side of her mouth. “Kidding, no they’re not. But they’ll come, if we need them. Twyla did drop off some food, it’s in my bag. Muffins, or something, she said you didn’t even come get one this morning. And sandwiches.” Alexis reaches down and pulls out a bag.

“I’m not hungry,” David says.

“Yeah, because you and skipping meals is a good idea.”

“I’ve had other things to worry about,” David says, his voice cracking.

“I know, David,” Alexis says softly. “But you have to take care of yourself too. And then we can take care of Patrick.”

It’s what breaks him, finally, that “we,” and David loses it, sobbing in Alexis’s arms at the side of his husband’s hospital bed.

#schitt's creek #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek fic #Alexis Rose #Hurt/Comfort

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