Randy, Stu, and Billy x Male Reader Who Is Always Tired/Loves To Sleep (Separate Headcanons)
This was requested by @zithaver. I chose to do headcanons so you could see how each guy would react! This is a long one! I hope you enjoy!! (I am so sorry this took longer than I intended. I've been having connection issues off and all day!)
Randy Meeks aka The Human White Noise Machine: Randy finds your constant exhaustion oddly endearing. He views your sleep habits through the lens of a movie trope..because why wouldn't he? It's Randy. He considers you the 'Comatose Companion' and he's decided he's the one to keep you safe while you drift off. (So sweet I know)
The Video Store Nap: When you visit him at work, he has a designated napping area for you. He clears a space behind the counter specifically for you. He'll stack VHS boxes to create a privacy wall for you. Man has 100% told someone to shush once..or twice..maybe three times because they're going to wake you.
The Commentary Lullaby: He knows his frantic movie rants usually put you to sleep. Listen...if this was anyone else? Man would be so offended, however, because it's you he lowers his voice to that documentary narrator tone voice to help you stay under.
The Human Pillow: If you two are watching a movie on his couch, he'll sit perfectly still..for once in his life..this man is sitting still, just so you can lean your head on his shoulder. He'll hold his breath for ten minutes just to avoid waking you. Man will try to hold his pee in for the duration of the movie because he knows once he moves you're gonna be awake.
The Spoiler Shield: If you know Randy you know he's a spoiler free guy. This man will make it his life mission to make sure new movies or even movies you haven't seen don't get spoiled. If you fall asleep during a crucial plot point, he'll pause the movie and wait. He refuses to let you miss the big reveal, even if it takes you three hours to wake up. Now he just needs to figure out what he's doing for the next three hours.
The Caffeine Compromise: Randy will constantly try to offer you movie fuel..which is code for soda and popcorn, but when he realizes you're actually out cold? He'll carefully remove the cup from your hand before you spill it. He's learned from this mistake. It happened on one of your first movie hang outs.
The Notebook Guardian: In class, if he sees your head hit the desk, he starts taking double notes. Heâll doodle little "You were sleeping here" markers in the margins of your notebook.
The Pop Culture Comparison: Randy definitely compares you to Sleeping Beauty, but with more "90s grunge" energy. He thinks itâs "subverting the genre."
The Gentle Wake-up: Randy isn't a loud waker. Heâll softly hum the Halloween theme or tap your hand lightly until your eyes flutter open. Honestly..the Halloween theme has become oddly soothing now??
The Blanket Burglar (In Reverse): Randy has a stash of oversized flannels in his car. If you fall asleep in the passenger seat, heâll tuck one around you with surprising tenderness. Sydney once asked why he has so many and he looked offended "The real question is, why don't you huh??"
The "Movie Date" Reality: Most of your dates end with him talking to himself for an hour while you snore. He doesn't mind; he just likes having the "best audience" in the room, even if they're unconscious.
Stu Macher aka The Chaotic Comfort Zone: Stu is very high energy, but your sleepiness acts as a grounding wire for him. He thinks it's hilarious and adorable, and he'll go to great lengths to make sure your naps are as dramatic as he is..because it's Stu..he's not going to let you have a nice peaceful nap alone.
The Human Heater: Stu is always warm. If youâre tired, he will literally scoop you up and let you use him as a giant, 6'3" heating pad.
The "Quiet" Game: This man will tell everyone at a party to "shut the hell up" because youâre napping on the couch. Heâll use his most intimidating glare, then immediately go back to making goofy faces at you while he pokes your face.
The Surprise Pounce: Sometimes, he forgets youâre tired. Heâll jump onto the bed to wake you up, realize youâre actually dead to the world, and immediately turn it into a cuddle session instead..by that it's usually him literally laying on top of you. His lanky ass sprawled out.
The Drool Defense: If you drool on his expensive sweater while sleeping, he won't care. Heâll actually brag about it to Billy like itâs a mark of your "true bond." Billy looks at him like he's an idiot.
The Pocket Snacks: Stu knows you wake up grumpy and hungry. Heâll keep a granola bar or candy in his pocket to shove in your face the second you open your eyes. Literally feeds you while stroking your head like a cat.
The "Accidental" Nap: Heâll try to keep you awake by being loud, but eventually, your sleepiness is contagious. Youâll often find him passed out right next to you, limbs tangled everywhere.
The Locker Lean 2.0: If he sees you leaning against your locker looking tired, heâll stand behind you and let you lean back against him so you donât have to support your own weight. He'll do this thing where he'll wrap his arms around you head and let you lay your head against his chest, shielding you from everyone else.
The Pajama Enforcer: This man will buy you the most ridiculous, fuzzy socks or oversized hoodies just so youâre "properly equipped" for your next nap. He gets that grin on his face whenever he sees you wearing the socks or hoodie.
The Public Display of Sleep: Stu has no shame. He will let you sleep on his lap in the middle of the school courtyard, glaring at anyone who walks by too loudly. He strokes your head mindlessly.
The Wake-up Prank: Stu really canât help himself. Heâll sometimes put a single Cheeto on your nose while youâre asleep just to see how long it stays there when you wake up. He thinks it's hilarious. That little glare you get when you finally wake up makes it all worth it.
Billy Loomis aka The Intense Protector: Billy is usually high-strung and brooding, so your ability to just shut down fascinates him. He finds a sense of peace in your stillness that he canât find anywhere else.
The Silent Sentinel: If you fall asleep in his room, heâll stop whatever heâs doing and just watch you. Not in a creepy way (mostly), but because itâs the only time the world feels quiet to him.
The Hair Stroke: Heâs very tactile when youâre asleep. Heâll slowly run his fingers through your hair, tracing your features with a look of uncharacteristic softness.
The Shadow Protector: If someone tries to wake you up in the library or lounge, Billy will give them a look so cold theyâll turn around and walk the other way without a word.
The Heavy Blanket: Billy likes the weight of you. If youâre napping, heâll often lay his arm or his whole torso over you, anchoring you down.
The Jacket Transfer: The second you start shivering in your sleep, his jacket is off and draped over you. He likes the way you smell like him when you wake up.
The Low-Tone Conversations: Heâll talk to you while you sleep..sharing things heâd never say while youâre awake. Itâs his way of venting without the vulnerability of a response.
The Grumpy Wake-up: Heâs not a morning person either. If youâre both tired, heâll just pull the covers over both of your heads and ignore the world until noon. Man will find a way to block the light from the window.
The Study Session Sabotage: If he sees you struggling to keep your eyes open over a textbook, heâll just take the book away. "Go to sleep. I'll tell you what happened in Chapter 4 later."
The Car Ride Sanctuary: Heâll drive the long way home just so you can get another twenty minutes of sleep in the passenger seat. He drives much smoother when you're knocked out.
The Rare Smile: The only time Billy truly looks relaxed is when heâs watching you sleep. Itâs the one time he feels like neither of you has anything to hide.
SFW alphabet for Dark Knight universe Jonathan Crane
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If you any request do dark knight characters x reader please let me know in the comments or my inbox. Iâd be happy to write for them!
SFW alphabet template
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Jonathan has a unique way of showing affection to say the least. He will never be the type to be all lovey-dovey with you. Instead he would say something like âYours is the only light in the world that holds a candle to the magnificence of fear.â Heâs clearly trying, and you can tell you mean a lot to him so you appreciate his interesting ways of showing affection.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Jonathan never had a friend before much less a best friend so this all a very new experience for him. The two of you met when you moved into the apartment next to his. You went out of your way to be friendly to him, something that was a first for Jon. You slowly but surely managed to bring down his walls with kindness and love and soon you became best friends, which eventually escalated to something more.Jonathan would try his best to be worthy of these new titles .He will always try to comfort you when your sad, either by promising to harm who ever hurt you, or if it was no one in particular who hurt you/ your against violence, he would try to distract you from the pain by talking about how similar fear is to sadness in the brain and going into the intricate biological details. He would try to create inside jokes with you, although he never could stick the landing. He always got embarrassed when he messed it up, but you found the attempt adorable.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
While Jonathan was apprehensive about trying cuddling with you at first, once you managed to convince him to try it he would never want to do anything else. The feeling of holding you is incredible, like he can actually hold all thatâs perfect and good in the world in his arms. The only thing that feels better is you holding him. Itâs the first time in his life heâs ever been shown any kind of comfort. Heâs genuinely worshipful of you when you do this, treating you like a perfect angel protecting him from all the harm in the world.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
For years if Jonathan Crane was asked the question of if he would like to settle down, he would scoff and say no. That was for lesser men, men without purpose in their life. All of that changed when he met you. Now his hearts greatest desire along with figuring out the secrets of fear is to get married to you. He wants to spend the rest of his life coming home to you, sleeping in together during weekends, making each other laugh during hard times. Heâs never been the best cook but heâs been trying to get better for you. You derserve to have homemade meals and heâll learn even if it kills him.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
If you had gotten to the point of dating Jonathan Crane, it would take a lot for Crane to break up with you. The only way I can honestly see Crane breaking up with you is if being with him puts you in danger. Like if Falcone tries to assert leverage over him by subtlety threatening to go after you if Crane steps out of line. Jonathan was enraged by Falcone doing this, but he also knew Falcone wouldnât be the last person to try something like this. So that night when he went home instead of happily greeting you like he usually did, he instead just gave a few curt words saying he wasnât in love with you anymore and that he would be taking all of his stuff and leaving. You broke down crying having no idea why Jonathan was treating you this way. Jonathan just tried to ignore you and the pain your tears caused him. He didnât even try to pretend that he never cared about you. He would be obsessed with you for the rest of his life, constantly keeping tabs on you.
F = Fiance(e)Â (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
While it would take a long time for Crane to get to the point of caring about you enough to propose to you, the second he dose get to that point heâs buying a ring. Jonathan is not the type to wait and see if the feeling lasts once he knows heâs in love. Heâs never felt any kind of love in his life before romantic or otherwise, he knows that if he feels this way itâs going to last, and that he needs to lock you down now.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Jonathan, well he tries he really dose. Heâs absolutely gentle with you physically ,making sure to never be aggressive with any of his touches or hugs, even thought these are new sensations to him. However when it comes to being emotionally gentle heâs a real work in progress. He wants to shower you with the all love in the world, but he never received any as a child so heâs not exactly sure how to do it. Every day is a new learning processes for him, and heâs getting there.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Similar to cuddling above Jonathan was apprehensive about hugs at first simply because he had never gotten them. However once you had introduced it to him after he had a tough day at Arkham and you thought a hug might help him feel better, he wasnât sure how he survived without them for so long. Whenever you gave him a hug it felt like the highlight of his day. He tried to give hugs back to you, but he knows heâs not the best at it. Heâs to bony for it to fully feel comfortable, but you appreciate the attempt.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
It takes Jonathan awhile to say to l-word both because it takes a very long time for him to fall in love, and when he finally dose fall in love he literally dose not know what the feeling is. It took a lot of emotional soul searching on Jonathanâs part to realize oh shit, this is love. This is what everyone is always talking about. The way any bad day gets immediately rectified by just talking to you ? Love. The way he would do anything for you just to see your smile? Love. The way he dosed anyone who hurt you with fear toxin? Supervillain shit, but also love. The minute Jonathan realizes this he canât help but blurt it out the next time he talks to you. Heâs afraid you wonât reciprocate his feelings or even worse, mock him for it. But instead you give him the biggest smile in the world and said you feel the same way.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when theyâre jealous?)
Jonathan Crane gets immensely jealous incredibly quickly. He doesnât even feel all that much guilt about it , thinking heâs just making it clear to other people who you belong to. The few times Jon will do large amounts of pda is when he sees someone is flirting with you. When that happens he starts literally making out with you in public, just to show who ever is flirting with you that your happily taken. And if they donât take the hint? Well thereâs a reason Jonathan caries fear gas with him at all times. He canât help himself, heâs never had a relationship before and heâll be damned if he loses you to anyone else.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Jonathanâs kisses are always shy and awkward, like heâs not sure what heâs supposed to do. You were his first kiss, a fact he is deeply embarrassed by. When you asked if you could kiss him, he said yes excited not only at the chance to kiss someone but that you would be his first kiss. However it quickly became apparent that he had never kissed anyone before. You went for a light first kiss and he literally stuck his tongue in your mouth. Hey go big or go home right? After that incident youâve been trying to help him become a better kisser to mixed success. On a different note, he adores forehead kisses both giving and receiving. Itâs just a quick way of showing love. If you ever want something from him give him a forehead kiss, heâs amiable to anything you have to say after that.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Jonathan wouldnât say he hates children, more that he sees them the same way he views every other person alive who isnât you. That is to say he sees them as useless insects who only exist for his benefit.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Crane has to wake up early for his job at Arkham, a fact that bemuses him to no end. He loves his job, he really does. But also he was literally cuddling with the love of his life and now he has to go to work. Anyone would be grumpy after that. He begrudgingly leaves your embrace, giving you a quick kiss on the head and whispering his love for you.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
You always try to stay up late, waiting for him to get back from his extracurricular activities. Sometimes you fall asleep and Jonathan canât help but feel his heart warm when he sees that you tried to stay up for him. He carries you to bed and holds you close to him. Other times you do actually manage to stay up for him, and you help patch up whatever wounds he received throughout the night. Neither of you directly comment on what he did that night or why he needed first aid. He just says thank you and kisses you on the forehead.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It takes a long time for Jon to open up to you. For him to reveal his biggest secret to you, that heâs scarcrow would take months if not years of getting to know you to make sure he can trust you. Even after he trusts you enough to share that nugget of information with you, he still wonât reveal some of his more personal parts at least not without some gentle coaxing on your part. However sometimes he surprises you by revealing deeply personal part of himself out of the blue. Like one night the two of you were cuddling and he causally said â I was supposed to be killed as a baby. My grandmother wanted me dead but my great grandmother saved me. My great grandmother called it the worst mistake she ever made.â You didnât know how to respond to that, so just held him closer and promised him you would make sure no one would ever hurt him again.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Jonathan isnât someone that gets angry easily , heâs more the type to let his emotions simmer underneath. Still there are certain things that can cause him to get mad quickly such as someone interfering with his experiments. However he would never lose it at you no matter what happens. You mean far too much to him, he would never allow himself to lose control in a way that harmed you.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Jon has an incredibly good memory and is also amazing at cataloging information. He puts these skills to good use when it comes to information about you. Every thing you mention your opinion on, what you like and donât like is information that is stored by him. He doesnât even necessarily plan to do anything with this information, itâs just that he loves you so much that he wants to collect every scrap he can about you.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
His favorite memory with you was when you helped calm him down from a panic attack. He had accidentally inhaled some of his own fear toxin while tinkering with the formula in his home lab and he was left in an awful state. The toxin caused him relive several memories of his great grandmother sending crowes out to attack him. He was screaming about the crowes when you entered this apartment . You immediately noticed that Jonathan was in distress writhing about on the floor and screaming about claws scraping him. You went over to him, and instead of mocking him or leaving him to rot in his fear you pulled him close to your chest. You then tried to help him clam down by getting him to breath easier and by whispering sweet nothings in his ear. You did this for the rest of the night. When he woke up in the morning, he couldnât stop himself from blurting out a thank you, even thought he wanted to just move on from the incident and never talk about it again. As embarrassing and terrifying as that event was for Jon, he will never forget how you took care of him.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Jonathan is incredibly protective over you. Youâre the first person heâs ever truly cared for, he could never risk losing you. Not to mention the fact that heâs literally a supervillain in his free time puts a huge target on any of his loved ones backs. He will gas anyone whoâs even remotely suspicious around you. He just canât take the risk.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Jonathan goes all out for dates and anniversaryâs . Heâs literally never done them before so to overcompensate for his lack of experience, he goes completely overboard. He gives you the largest bouquet of flowers you have ever seen, takes you to one of the most expensive restaurants in Gotham and even gives you expensive jewelry as a parting gift from dates. While you find all the effort he puts into your date adorable, you explain to Jonathan that he doesnât have to go so big on dates to impress you and that you like him just for who he is, awkward romantic stumbles and all.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Jonathan has trouble always being emotionally honest with you. He spent so long guarding his emotions from others and focusing on getting emotional reactions from other people, that he wasnât sure how to be open with someone. Heâs trying to get better, he knows you love him and are just trying to be there for him, and that youâre not going to mock him for his feelings. Still, old habits die hard and he often finds himself bottling up how he feels around you. You try to work with him on this, telling him thatâs it okay to be sad about shitty things that happened to him in the past, or to be happy to hang out with you.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Jonathan isnât the least bit concerned with his looks. He finds his mind the most valuable part of him and thinks looks, like the rest of the body are just extensions of what truly matters. He also doesnât think his are anything to write home about and is a little insecure about them from years of childhood bullying, and the glasses arenât exactly doing him any favors.You canât help but laugh when he tells you that last part. He was literally the most attractive man youâd ever met. Honestly, you felt ugly next to him sometimes. Also the glasses were the fucking hottest thing youâd ever seen, something you made very clear to him the next time you got intimate.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Once Jonathan lets you into to his heart, thereâs no way for you to leave it. Itâs no longer him in his mind but us. If you ever died Jonathan would never be the same. Honestly the man might kill himself if you died. Even if he doesnât go that far, he will be irrevocably changed. Whatever small amounts of empathy that existed in his heart will be destroyed. He was cruel before, but that was nothing compared to how he acts now that your dead. The world took you from him, it didnât deserve a drop of kindness. He would spend the rest of his life grieving you with him waking up everyday feeling just as hurt about your death as he was the first day he found out.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Since he grew up on a farm, heâs a very good horseback rider. He took you riding one time and you both had a great time. You were a little scared of doing so at first but he assured you that he knew what he was doing. You held on tight to his back the whole time, but your laughter told Crane that you were clearly enjoying yourself. It was also the must wonderful sound he had ever heard in life, but he didnât feel like that was relevant information to share with you.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldnât like, either in general or in a partner?)
Jon would never want to date someone who mocked him or his interests. He already received far too much of that from the world at large, he didnât need it from his partner. Also you canât be to against his supervillain side. Heâs okay with some pushback, which is why youâre still together despite the arguments youâve had about his treatment of Arkham patients. Still , his partner needs to be able to tolerate some of his criminal activities, or the relationship wonât last long.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Jonathan always prefers for the two of you to be as close as possible when your falling asleep. It brings him great peace of mind knowing youâre safe and content. He also waits for you to go to sleep first, so he can watch you for a bit and make sure you donât have any nightmares, ironically enough.
Aahhhhh i saw that some of y'all were unhappy theres nothing for male readers đđ i feel y'alls pain!! So i wrote out some hcs for William with a transmasc s/o!! Keep your heads up fellow kingsss yall are doing great and look sooooooo charming and handsome todayyyy â¤â¤
-lemme start off by saying William is DEFINITELY accepting of a s/o with ANY gender identity. I mean he literally made funtime foxy?? The most gender ambiguous animatronic EVERR?? Oh yeah he's definitely gonna be cool if you tell him youre trans. He sees you as a boy 100%. Not just a TRANS-boy either. Youre his handsome little man â¤
-SPEAKING OF WHICH, he'll definitely call you that too. He'll hold you close to him and say how handsome you are and how hes just the luckiest man in the world to have such a little prince as yourself â¤â¤â¤ he'll kiss those blushy cheeks of yours while he does it too â¤
-he's quick to also calm you down if you feel dysphoric đ if he sees your sad eyes looking at yourself in the mirror hes quick to hug you close from behind and assure you that youre perfect just as you are â¤â¤â¤ youre his little bunny how could you not be perfect?? He always reminds you that you're so handsome and cute to him â¤â¤
-omg tho if ANYONE were to misgender you or deadname you though?? Hoooo boy. They're in for a world of hurt. If they're an employee? Fired. If they're a friend? Not anymore. Sure he knows it can be an accident at times, but his fuse is SHORT. NO ONE is gonna disrespect you. NO ONE â¤â¤
-has no problem calling you his boyfriend or husband either. Hes not ashamed of it at all. He gives the meanest, scariest glare to anyone that looks at y'all funny â¤â¤
-Willy has no problem buying you things that'll make you feel more comfortable too â¤â¤ of you want a binder? Tape? New clothes? A different work uniform (if youre an employee)?? Done and done no questions ASKED â¤â¤ He loves to spoil his sweet baby â¤
-all in all he's gonna cherish you no matter what you identify as or what you look like â¤â¤â¤ he loves you deeply, you're his precious little honey bun and he'd do ANYTHING to make sure youre respected and well-taken care of â¤
-⤠nonnie
iâm in tears ANON PLEAAAAAA
i was having a dysphoric day tbh and ONAKUDNAIDJD WILLIAM SAYS TRANS RIGHTS I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER
Ok the 'William trying to get you to forgive him' fic gave me a silly little idea. Both because it's funny and it's probably something I'd do.
Imagine that you start giving all the affection and love to the plushie instead of William when you're mad at him. Just to further rub it in. It's so mean but it would be so funny that he couldn't actually logically be jealous of a plushie, especially when that plushie is supposed to represent *him* . But it still irks him that he isn't the one being showered in your love and affection as usual, and what's worse is that he's still being ignored by you at the same time.
Just small things like giving the plushie a lil kiss on the cheek or head, bringing it in close for a hug, or even ranting to it. Maybe even indirectly talk to William by talking to the plushie. "Oh my! Little Springbonnie, did you hear something just now? Because I certainly didn't. Hmm I suppose it was just the wind." Fuck it, maybe even make it respond in the same (perhaps even a little mocking) little high pitched cheery voice and have it respond to you in "conversations".
I feel so bad for poor William, but at the same time I'm giggling at the thought.
đ° The Ultimate Payback: Loving the Plush More Than Him
William Afton has made a grave mistake.
And for days, youâve made sure he knows itâby ignoring him completely. But instead of begging for forgiveness like a normal person, he tried to play the fool, using a damn Springbonnie plush as a peace offering.
So you decideâ
Two can play this game.
The moment William tries to win you back with that stupid plush, you donât react how he expects.
You donât roll your eyes.
You donât push it away.
You donât even break into laughter.
Insteadâ
You fully embrace the plush.
"Oh, Springbonnie! Youâre such a sweetheart, arenât you? At least you donât upset me like some people do."
And then, right in front of William, you kiss the plush on its little cheek.
William freezes.
His hands are still holding the plush up, but his grip slightly loosens.
His brows furrow. His eye twitches.
Oh, he was not expecting this.
You keep going, deliberately ignoring him as you hug the plush tight.
"Springbonnie, you're so soft and kind. You always listen to me, unlike that other guy."
And then, you turn the plush towards himâand in your own high-pitched voice, you make it respond:
"Oh, bun, thatâs just awful! Tell me everythingâwhat did the mean olâ Willy do this time?"
You donât miss how Williamâs entire soul leaves his body.
His own tactic has been used against him. Worseâ
Youâre giving a damn plush more affection than youâre giving him.
Oh, he canât stand it.
"Oh my! Little Springbonnie, did you hear something just now? Because I certainly didn't. Hmm, I suppose it was just the wind!"
William stares at you like you just kicked his pride down a flight of stairs.
"Oh, for Christâs sakeâ!"
But you ignore him again.
Instead, you keep talking to the plush.
"You know, Springbonnie, I just adore you so much. I should take you everywhere with me! Youâre much better company than some annoying rabbit I know."
Thatâs it.
William suddenly rips the plush away from your hands.
"Alright, thatâs enough, bun. Gameâs over. No moreâno more damn plush."
He holds it hostage, glaring at it like it personally betrayed him. He looks at you. Then at the plush. Then at you again.
"âŚYouâre tellinâ me. That I just lost my lover's affection⌠to a bloody stuffed rabbit?"
You shrug, smug.
"Maybe. Heâs been treating me better than you lately."
William groans into his hands.
"Iâm never usinâ a plush again."
Alternative version:
You snuggle the plush closer, gently stroking its little ears.
"At least you understand me, Little Springbonnie. Unlike some people."
"âSome peopleââ?? Oh, piss off." William scoffs, shifting closer, trying to reclaim your attention. "Darlinâ, youâre jokinâ, yeah? No bloody way yer actually replacinâ me withâ"
You kiss the plushâs forehead.
William short-circuits.
"Pardon??" He gapes at you, pointing at the plush with pure, genuine betrayal. "Did youâ?? Just nowâ?? Love, tell me you did not just kiss that stuffedâ!"
You donât answer. Instead, you lift the plush in front of you and wiggle it slightlyâbefore speaking in an obnoxiously cheerful voice:
"O-oh, itâs alright, Big Willy! Y'know, some of us are just cuddlier than others! Itâs not our fault we're cuter, nya~!"
The moment the "nya~" leaves your lips, William visibly recoils.
"âNO. No, I will not stand for this."
He lunges forward, snatching the plush away from you. You let out a gasp, dramatically reaching for it, but he holds it out of your reach.
"This? This is a bloody disgrace." He gestures at the plush with pure disgust. "What in Godâs name have you done to my persona?? The ânyaââ??? I canâtâ??"
You pout. "Give him back."
"No." He squints at you. Then at the plush. Back at you. Then back at the plush.
And then, as if just to spite youâ
He smooches the plushâs forehead. Right in front of you. Mocking.
"Oh-ho, whatâs wrong, love? Feelinâ a bit jealous now?" He winks.
Ok the 'William trying to get you to forgive him' fic gave me a silly little idea. Both because it's funny and it's probably something I'd do.
Imagine that you start giving all the affection and love to the plushie instead of William when you're mad at him. Just to further rub it in. It's so mean but it would be so funny that he couldn't actually logically be jealous of a plushie, especially when that plushie is supposed to represent *him* . But it still irks him that he isn't the one being showered in your love and affection as usual, and what's worse is that he's still being ignored by you at the same time.
Just small things like giving the plushie a lil kiss on the cheek or head, bringing it in close for a hug, or even ranting to it. Maybe even indirectly talk to William by talking to the plushie. "Oh my! Little Springbonnie, did you hear something just now? Because I certainly didn't. Hmm I suppose it was just the wind." Fuck it, maybe even make it respond in the same (perhaps even a little mocking) little high pitched cheery voice and have it respond to you in "conversations".
I feel so bad for poor William, but at the same time I'm giggling at the thought.
đ° The Ultimate Payback: Loving the Plush More Than Him
William Afton has made a grave mistake.
And for days, youâve made sure he knows itâby ignoring him completely. But instead of begging for forgiveness like a normal person, he tried to play the fool, using a damn Springbonnie plush as a peace offering.
So you decideâ
Two can play this game.
The moment William tries to win you back with that stupid plush, you donât react how he expects.
You donât roll your eyes.
You donât push it away.
You donât even break into laughter.
Insteadâ
You fully embrace the plush.
"Oh, Springbonnie! Youâre such a sweetheart, arenât you? At least you donât upset me like some people do."
And then, right in front of William, you kiss the plush on its little cheek.
William freezes.
His hands are still holding the plush up, but his grip slightly loosens.
His brows furrow. His eye twitches.
Oh, he was not expecting this.
You keep going, deliberately ignoring him as you hug the plush tight.
"Springbonnie, you're so soft and kind. You always listen to me, unlike that other guy."
And then, you turn the plush towards himâand in your own high-pitched voice, you make it respond:
"Oh, bun, thatâs just awful! Tell me everythingâwhat did the mean olâ Willy do this time?"
You donât miss how Williamâs entire soul leaves his body.
His own tactic has been used against him. Worseâ
Youâre giving a damn plush more affection than youâre giving him.
Oh, he canât stand it.
"Oh my! Little Springbonnie, did you hear something just now? Because I certainly didn't. Hmm, I suppose it was just the wind!"
William stares at you like you just kicked his pride down a flight of stairs.
"Oh, for Christâs sakeâ!"
But you ignore him again.
Instead, you keep talking to the plush.
"You know, Springbonnie, I just adore you so much. I should take you everywhere with me! Youâre much better company than some annoying rabbit I know."
Thatâs it.
William suddenly rips the plush away from your hands.
"Alright, thatâs enough, bun. Gameâs over. No moreâno more damn plush."
He holds it hostage, glaring at it like it personally betrayed him. He looks at you. Then at the plush. Then at you again.
"âŚYouâre tellinâ me. That I just lost my lover's affection⌠to a bloody stuffed rabbit?"
You shrug, smug.
"Maybe. Heâs been treating me better than you lately."
William groans into his hands.
"Iâm never usinâ a plush again."
Alternative version:
You snuggle the plush closer, gently stroking its little ears.
"At least you understand me, Little Springbonnie. Unlike some people."
"âSome peopleââ?? Oh, piss off." William scoffs, shifting closer, trying to reclaim your attention. "Darlinâ, youâre jokinâ, yeah? No bloody way yer actually replacinâ me withâ"
You kiss the plushâs forehead.
William short-circuits.
"Pardon??" He gapes at you, pointing at the plush with pure, genuine betrayal. "Did youâ?? Just nowâ?? Love, tell me you did not just kiss that stuffedâ!"
You donât answer. Instead, you lift the plush in front of you and wiggle it slightlyâbefore speaking in an obnoxiously cheerful voice:
"O-oh, itâs alright, Big Willy! Y'know, some of us are just cuddlier than others! Itâs not our fault we're cuter, nya~!"
The moment the "nya~" leaves your lips, William visibly recoils.
"âNO. No, I will not stand for this."
He lunges forward, snatching the plush away from you. You let out a gasp, dramatically reaching for it, but he holds it out of your reach.
"This? This is a bloody disgrace." He gestures at the plush with pure disgust. "What in Godâs name have you done to my persona?? The ânyaââ??? I canâtâ??"
You pout. "Give him back."
"No." He squints at you. Then at the plush. Back at you. Then back at the plush.
And then, as if just to spite youâ
He smooches the plushâs forehead. Right in front of you. Mocking.
"Oh-ho, whatâs wrong, love? Feelinâ a bit jealous now?" He winks.
So, I literally have no motivation and am just not in a great place right now. I can barely get out of bed for work and showers are exhausting.
Have a repost from my AO3
Movie Intervention (Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher)
Summary: Youâve been working yourself too hard at school and havenât given the boys the attention they need, so they take things into their own hands.
It was a bad habit to fall into, you knew that. Still, there wasnât much you could do about it. Between actually having to go to school, the homework you got after, and work, your day was jam-packed. There werenât enough hours in the day, so you had to free your hours at night. This means that you were here again, gearing up for another late late-night study session. Physics specifically had been kicking your ass and you had to ace this next test or you were certain youâd be doomed to repeat the class. For the sake of your long-term sanity, you couldnât let that happen.
Several times now, youâd had to cancel on your friends. You still saw them at school, and Randy at work as well, but it wasnât the same as actually hanging out or partying. Youâd had to turn down numerous invitations to sleep over at Tatumâs with Sydney and gossip. Youâd had to miss Stuâs parties and miss movie nights with him and Billy. You couldnât really indulge Randy in his usual rants at work, as well. You missed them all, especially Billy and Stu.
You cared deeply about the both of them, more so than the others in your group. You werenât sure if they noticed or returned the sentiment, and you werenât really sure what to call it. Maybe a crush, but it felt more comfortable than that. It would definitely be too early to call it love, too. Every time you had to turn them down, to hear the disappointment over the phone or see the looks of yet another letdown in person, it felt like someone stacked another ten-pound plate on your chest. Sooner or later, if this continued, you just might crack under the pressure.
It was nearly eleven at night now, not too late yet but you could be assured that most of Woodsboro was fast asleep by now. Knowing that was, perhaps, even more isolating than your room which youâd spent the better part of two weeks in. The desk in your room had felt more like a prison as you studied. To avoid distractions, you turned off the lights in your room and used solely the little desk lamp in the corner as you worked. It was less burning the midnight oil and more someone set the entire pot of oil on fire and poked a hole in it so that it was both burning too fast and spilling out the bottom. You were, in this moment and for the past two weeks, a fiery ball of leaking oil.
Time stretched on and your back ached. Your wrist, fingers, neck, and shoulders ached with it. Your⌠well your everything seemed to hurt. âItâs not even that lateâŚâ talking out loud to yourself was the only way your thoughts could be coherent at all. âIâve stayed up way later than this. I can do this.â You could repeat a similar sentiment to yourself all you wanted, scream it at the top of your lungs and say it with all the passion your heart could hold but it wouldnât stop the words on the pages from blurring and doubling. Nothing you looked at could stay still and you took another gulp of your half-filled energy drink (the fourth of the night and sixth of the day) which only served to prove just as unhelpful. You could feel your mind start to spiral into nonsensical half-thoughts and abstract concepts you didnât have the energy to define.
A knock at your front door pulled your brain from its spiral and shot adrenaline through your body, enough to be able to pull yourself from your chair and drag yourself to the door. You opened it to be greeted by Stu, with his fist in the space where the door had just been, and Billy who had popcorn and a tape in hand. They seemed, at first, surprised that you answered at all, then taken aback at your disheveled, sleep-deprived appearance.
âHey, buddy!â Stu was the first to speak up. âWe missed yaâ so we thought weâd drop by. If you canât come to movie night, weâll bring it to you!â You werenât quite sure what to say for a few very long seconds.
âOh⌠Iâm sorry guys. I canât- I mean, Iâd love to and I wish we could but Iâve got to study. Maybe some other time?â You could hear the exhaustion in your voice, much to your displeasure. You sounded worse than you thought. It hurt to have to turn them away, especially when they had gone out of their way to come to you with everything needed, but you couldnât. You just couldnât.
âWeâre not taking no for an answer,â Billy spoke up.
âYeah, no can do, man! I mean, weâre already here and your down here as well! Itâd be more work to go allllll the way back upstairs.â He chimed in and pushed past you as he spoke. Billy followed suit.
âGuysâŚâ you sighed out.
âShut it.â Billy cut you off before you could finish your thought. He grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you fast enough that you could just barely shut the front door before you were much too far away. You were too tired to physically resist.
The two made their way to your living room, dragging you along with them. Billy was first to set on the couch, pulling you to sit in the middle so he was on your left. He opened the pre-made popcorn he had with him and offered you some. You were too tired to chew, if that even made sense. Either way, you shook your head. You were quickly losing any energy you had left and verbally responding to anything took far too much effort that you didnât have.
Stu grabbed a large, fuzzy blanket from somewhere in your living room, spreading it out to cover both you and Billy, with enough extra to cover himself when he sat down as well. Billy tossed him the tape to get the movie started. You knew from the music as the movie began that they had chosen Halloween. It was a movie you had watched a thousand times, hundreds of those times being with Billy and Stu. You knew the movie like the back of your hand by now, and you were sure they knew that. Theyâd purposely chosen a movie youâd seen before so you could sleep without worrying about missing anything.
It dawned on you as Stu sat down on the couch right next to you on your right, covering himself with the blanket and putting his arm around your shoulder, that the boys, perhaps, felt the same closeness to you as you did to them. Certainly, they hadnât done this for anyone else in the group. Not Randy, not Sydney, and not Tatum, even though the girls were dating Billy and Stu, respectively. It was enough to pull a smile on your lips; the first in weeks. You felt Billy put his arm around your waist and rest his hand on your thigh, pulling you into him just slightly but allowing you to stay in Stuâs arm as well. The two passed the popcorn back and forth between each other as they, or really Stu for the most part, rambled on about different cinematic techniques the movie used and the landmarks the movie had made, all while you put your head on Stuâs shoulder. Your eyelids grew heavy and each time you blinked, you found yourself wanting to open them less and less.
You fell asleep like that, with your head on Stuâs shoulder as he rambled on about the movie, in the hold of your two favorite people in Woodsboro. And, as you drifted off, you decided there was nowhere else youâd rather be. Your hearing was the last to go as you faded out.
âStu, shut the fuck up. Youâre going to wake them up.â
âAm not!â
âStu.â
âFine, whatever man.â A pause. âGânight sweets.â
summary: youâve been with stu for awhile now and itâs a dream. your relationship is everything youâve ever wanted⌠until you realize his best friend, billy, is in love with him. worse than that stu might be in love with him too.Â
hello, I was wondering if you'd be willing to write how Billy and stu (poly Ghostface) would react to the the reader biting them playfully? like when someone im close with is bugging me by poking and prodding my side I'll nip at them.
Poly! Ghostface x Biting Reader
Their reactions honestly just depend on if there's one or both with you at the time
The first time you do it, Billy's really more confused than anything
He kind of thinks it's cute but doesn't put a whole lot of thought into it
Definitely tells Stu later who explains its first of all adorable and second of all just a means of affection
From then on though, Billy takes it as a personal offense
Sure he deserved it for bothering you, not that he would ever admit that, but come on you just bit him, he needs some kind of payback
Sometimes he'll playfully swat at your ass or others he'll hold you down and tickle you to tears
Really he sometimes will purposely push at your buttons until you go to nip at his arm
Keeps him interested and gives him a reason to be a little more cutesy
Totally not because he finds the entire situation completely adorable, obviously
Stu can and will try to take a chunk out of your arm, usually in response to being bitten himself but honestly, there's really not a whole lot stopping him from doing it without any reason
Without being provoked he just kinda lightly latches on your arm or shoulder
This helps with two things being that Stu can get a bite out of the way and leave a surprise hickey for later
Billy more often than not likes to take those hickeys as a challenge from his boyfriend
You're not walking out of this without being covered in marks
It's a bit of a similar circumstance when you bite one of them around the other
If you bite Billy you now have to pry Stu's mouth from your arm, and he does not let go easy
This will take several kisses and a bribe of cuddles
If you bit Stu though Billy honestly could not be bothered to react, he knows the blonde is going to react enough for the both of them
Within seconds of gently putting your teeth on his arm, Stu is very dramatically crying out about how "I can't believe you would do this babe" and how "This is it, I can see the light, please Billy kiss me one... last... time"
Can we see something about the reader being overprotective of billy and stu? He is already such a mom friend kind of guy in life but as there is some killer around, of course he is gonna be worried and telling his boyfriends off for being out so late just to knock at his window. Of course, he doesn't know they are the last people he should worry about being killed
ă WAITING BY THE WINDOW ! ă . . . đ
scream : billy loomis, stu macher
featuring : x male reader
Y/N doesnât know exactly when Billy Loomis and Stu Macher snuck their way into his life.
At first, they were just two guys in his classes. Billy sat a few rows ahead, quiet, calculating, eyes always sharp. Stu was louder, mischievous, always half-turned in his seat, whispering commentary and jokes like school itself was a shared game. Then they became the people he talked to when the clock above the whiteboard ticked too slowly, and the teacherâs voice blurred into static.
It was easy. Comfortable. Distant.
Things didnât change all at once. They never do.
It happened in pieces. Sitting by the water fountain between periods turned into a standing appointment. Walking to the video store after school became routineâarguing over whether Halloween or Friday the 13th deserved their legendary reputations. Sometimes Stu would loudly insist sequels were better, just to rile Billy up, and Billy would roll his eyes but play along anyway. VHS nights became the norm: cheap popcorn, blankets on the floor, rewinding tapes for the tenth time, sitting close enough that shoulders brushed accidentallyâbut intentionally sometimes.
Somewhere along the way, Billyâs cologne and Stuâs cheap aftershave lingered in Y/Nâs room long after they left, settling into his sheets like they belonged there.
Before he could really name it, Billy and Stu were always beside himâinside school, outside of it, orbiting him like something steady.
Maybe it was when he started automatically scanning rooms for them.
Maybe it was when their touches lingeredâBillyâs hand at his elbow when guiding him through crowded hallways, Stuâs arm draped over his shoulders when nobody was looking.
Maybe it was when it became a nightly occurrence for them to knock on his bedroom window instead of using the front door.
â.
He learns the sound of their knocks long before he realizes that might be a problem.
Billyâs knock is controlledâtwo taps, a pause, then one more, like heâs weighing consequences even as he ignores them. Stuâs is chaos: knuckles too loud, rhythm abandoned halfway through because heâs already laughing at something Billy said.
Y/N tells himself itâs just familiarity.
Just repetition.
That things are still comfortable.
Still distant.
He tells himself a lot of things.
By the time he pulls the curtain aside and sees them standing thereâjackets damp from Woodsboroâs early fall drizzle, sneakers scuffed, eyes bright with leftover adrenalineâhis chest loosens in a way it shouldnât.
Relief comes first.
Fear follows close behind.
âYouâre late,â he says, unlatching the window.
Stu grins, already halfway inside. âYou missed us.â
âI worried,â Y/N corrects automatically. âThereâs a difference.â
Billy ducks in next, close enough that their shoulders brush. Itâs brief. Accidental. Still, it leaves Y/N painfully aware of how much space Billy occupiesâand how easily.
âYou always worry,â Billy says, not unkindly.
âYes,â Y/N snaps, then exhales, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater. A nervous habit. âBecause I care.â
The words land heavier than he expects.
Stu flops onto the bed like tension is optional. Billy stays standing, eyes moving methodically around the roomâchecking the window latch, the door, the lockâlike heâs cataloguing exits. Y/N notices. He always notices.
âYou donât have to care,â Billy says.
âI know,â Y/N replies. God, how he wishes he didnât. âBut you make it hard not to.â
Stu laughs, loud and careless, but thereâs something uneasy beneath it. âWow. Weâre exhausting you? Donât get tired of us yetâweâve still got surprises.â
âYou are exhausting,â Y/N says softly. âYouâre reckless. Youâre loud. You donât think before you act, andââ
He stops himself, breath hitching.
âAnd if something happened to you, I donât know what Iâd do.â
Stuâs grin wobbles. Just a little.
Billyâs expression sharpens, something dark and almost reverent flickering through it.
âYou wonât lose us,â Stu says quickly, like he needs it to be true.
Billy nods. âPromise.â
The word settles wrong in Y/Nâs chest.
He ignores it.
He always does.
It hadnât started like this.
The first time Billy came over, it was after a fight with his dad. He hadnât knockedâjust stood on the porch, jaw tight, eyes distant. Something about his mom that cut deeper than Billy ever explained. Stu followed because he hated being alone, and because he knew Y/N would insist on letting him in.
That night blurred into another. Then another.
Late nights became early mornings. Someone always fell asleep first. No one ever wanted to be the first to leave.
Somewhere along the way, Y/Nâs room became neutral ground.
Safe.
Stuâs hoodie lived permanently on the back of his chair. Billyâs lighter stayed on the windowsill. Three toothbrushes crowded the cup in the bathroom like an accident no one corrected.
âYouâre basically our safe house,â Stu said once, sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan. âNo chance of getting gutted by Ghostface here.â
Billy went very still.
âYou donât have to come over every night,â Y/N told them, already unlocking the window.
They always did anyway.
â.
Billy noticed things. Billy noticed things before Y/N realized he was being watched.
Not openly. Not in the way Y/N assumed. Quiet observations. Calculated. Like he was cataloguing every gesture, every tremor, every distracted movementânot to correct them, but to map them. Y/N mistook it for care.
When Y/Nâs hands shook while pouring coffee, Billy would brush his wrist lightly, a touch that lingered longer than it should have.
When Y/N laughed nervously at Stu reenacting the opening scene from Halloween, Billy tilted his head, eyebrows drawn, like he was studying Y/Nâs reactions.
When Y/Nâs voice rose nervously over Woodsboro gossip about a student found attacked on the outskirts of town, Billy listened. Intensely. And Y/N told himself it was concern.
âYou okay?â Billy asked, quiet, steady.
Y/N answered honestly.
That was the mistake.
Because honesty made him predictable. And predictability made Billy and Stu⌠too easy to read.
Billy became the one Y/N checked in with before bed. The one whose opinion mattered more than it should have. Billy never discouraged it. He just accepted itâcalmly, patientlyâlike Y/Nâs worry was a gift he didnât have to earn.
âYou care too much,â Billy said one night, voice low and careful, as Y/N fussed over a bruise Stu got after tripping on the stairs while trying to act like Freddy Krueger, chasing Y/N around the house.
âSomeone has to,â Y/N replied.
Billy smiled. Small. Private. And Y/N thought it meant understanding.
Stu was different. Stu let Y/N fuss.
He let him shove his hoodie on properly after a trip to the video store. He let him fuss with his hair, brush off dust from the floor after late-night wrestling matches inspired by classic horror, and remind him to eat, because âmomâs worriedâ was a label Stu didnât argue with.
Stu complained loudlyâbut he didnât pull away. He leaned into Y/Nâs touches, lingered in proximity, teased Billy subtly just to make Y/N tense. And Y/N hovered. Too long. Heart pounding.
Billy lingered in the kitchen once, leaning against the counter, watching Y/N as he fussed over Stu, and Y/N felt that familiar sharp pull in his chestâthe one that always said too close, too late, too much.
âYou donât have to worry,â Billy whispered, voice softer than Y/N had ever heard. âI do,â Y/N admitted, stomach twisting. The touch lingered, a silent confession neither of them said aloud.
â.
After the brutal slaughter of Casey Becker and her boyfriend rules emerged naturally:
No going out alone.
Check in every time.
Donât linger outside after dark.
Billy agreed. Too easily. Stu argued only to follow anyway. âYou act like weâre made of glass,â Stu teased.
âI act like Iâd rather you alive,â Y/N shot back.
Billy smiled, dark and calculatingâbut there was softness too. Just enough to make Y/Nâs stomach flip.
The imbalance grew.
Y/N worried more.
They worried less.
Y/N lost sleep.
They slept fine.
Y/N started to feel like the only one afraid. That should have been the warning. Instead, it became the realization waiting to happen. Because monsters donât need protecting. They need invitations. And Y/Nâkind, careful, endlessly worriedâkept opening the window.
Movie night starts the way it always does: with Y/N insisting on preparations that Billy and Stu claim are unnecessary.
âYou donât need to lock every door,â Stu says, kicking off his shoes and immediately flopping onto the floor like he owns the place.
âYes, I do,â Y/N replies, already checking the deadbolt again. âYou donât know whoâs out there.â
Billy watches him from the couch, unreadable. âYou know itâs just Halloween, right?â
âThat doesnât make it less creepy,â Y/N mutters, tugging the curtains shut. âMichael Myers didnât need a motive either.â
Stu lights up. âOoooh, see? He gets it. Faceless killers are scarier.â
Billy hums softly. âSome people need motives.â
The TV flickers as the VHS starts whirring. Y/N dims the lights and hands out bowls of popcorn like a ritual. He sits on the edge of the bed at firstâalert, upright, watching the window more than the screen.
Stu notices immediately.
âCome on,â he says, patting the floor between his legs. âYouâre ruining the vibe.â
âIâm fine here.â
âYouâre hovering,â Stu grins. âAgain.â
Billy cuts in, calm. âJust sit down.â
Y/N hesitates, then settles onto the floor, back pressed against the bed. Stuâs knee brushes his shoulder almost instantly. Billyâs presence looms just behind him on the mattress, close enough that Y/N can feel the heat through the blanket.
The movie plays.
Michael stalks. Laurie breathes too loud. The tension builds.
Y/N flinches at a sudden sting of violins.
Stu noticesâand leans closer, shoulder bumping his. âWow. Didnât peg you as the jumpy type.â
âIâm not jumpy,â Y/N says defensively. âIâm aware.â
Billyâs hand shifts behind him. Not touchingâjust close enough that Y/N becomes acutely conscious of it.
âAwareness is good,â Billy murmurs.
Y/N swallows.
Halfway through the movie, Stu sprawls fully against Y/Nâs side, dramatic and heavy.
âThis is the part where she should run,â Stu announces. âBad decisions. Classic.â
âStop narrating,â Y/N says, but he doesnât move away.
Stu grins, chin resting dangerously close to Y/Nâs shoulder. âYou like having us here. Admit it.â
Y/Nâs instinct is to deflect. Joke. Redirect. Instead, he says quietly, âI like knowing where you are.â
Stu stills just a little. Billy shifts behind him.
âThat sounds like control,â Stu teases, but itâs softer now.
âThat sounds like worry,â Y/N corrects.
Billyâs hand finally rests against Y/Nâs shoulderâlight, grounding, deliberate. âYou worry like itâs your job,â Billy says.
âSomeone has to,â Y/N replies, breath tight.
Stu glances back at Billy, something unspoken passing between them. Then he grins again, wide and careless, and bumps his forehead gently into Y/Nâs arm.
âWell, lucky us.â
Later, when the curfew announcement interrupts the movieâlocal sheriffâs voice crackling through the TVâY/N tenses instantly.
âThere it is,â he mutters. âSee? I told you.â
Stu rolls his eyes. âItâs just precautionary.â
âPeople are getting attacked,â Y/N snaps. âThatâs not nothing.â
Billy leans forward, elbows on his knees, gaze sharp on the screen. âYou think theyâll catch him?â
Stu fills it, too fast. âIf someone wanted to hurt us, theyâd have tried already.â
Y/N turns on him immediately. âDonât say that.â
âWhy?â
âBecause itâs tempting fate,â Y/N says. âAnd because I donât like thinking about it.â
Billy studies Y/N closely.
âYou really think you can keep us safe?â Billy asks.
Y/N meets his eyes without hesitation. âIâll try.â
Something flickers across Billyâs face. Pride. Amusement. Something darker.
Stu breaks the moment by shifting again, settling fully against Y/Nâs side. This time, Y/N doesnât protest.
Instead, he adjusts the blanket around all three of them without thinking.
Domestic. Automatic.
Billy notices.
The movie ends. The tape rewinds with a mechanical whine. None of them move.
Stuâs head rests lightly against Y/Nâs shoulder now, breathing slow and even. Billyâs knee presses against Y/Nâs back, close enough to be intimate, far enough to pretend itâs accidental.
Y/N exhales carefully.
âYou can stay,â he says, already knowing they will. âJustâdonât leave tonight. Please.â
Stu smiles into his shoulder. âBossy.â
Billy answers instead. âWe werenât planning on it.â
Y/N relaxes, just a fraction.
Thatâs the dangerous part.
Because thisâ the closeness, the warmth, the illusion of safetyâ is exactly what they want. And Y/N, sweet and careful and endlessly worried, keeps mistaking proximity for protection. He reaches for the window lock one last time before bed. Neither Billy nor Stu stops him.
They just watch.
Morning comes too gently for a town on edge.
The house smells like burnt coffee and microwave popcorn. Pale light slips through the blinds in thin lines, cutting across the floor, across Stuâs abandoned shoes, across Billyâs jacket draped over the back of the chair like it belongs there.
Y/N wakes first. He always does.
For half a second, he forgets why his chest feels tightâthen he remembers where he is, what night it is, who stayed.
Stu is sprawled half on the mattress, half off, mouth open, arm flung across Y/Nâs waist like itâs the most natural thing in the world. Billy is seated on the edge of the bed, awake, elbows on his knees, staring at the window like it might stare back.
âYou didnât sleep,â Y/N murmurs.
Billy glances over. âI slept.â
Y/N doesnât argue. He just carefully shifts Stuâs arm, easing out of the bed so slowly it borders on reverent. Stu grumbles but doesnât wake.
In the kitchen, Y/N moves quietly. He pours coffee, adds too much sugar to Stuâs without thinking, sets a mug aside for Billy even though Billy never asked.
Mom friend. Habitual. Automatic.
Billy watches from the doorway.
âYou donât have to do all this,â Billy says.
Y/N shrugs. âI want to.â
Billyâs gaze lingersâon the careful way Y/N avoids noise, on the way he checks the window lock again, on the extra mug waiting on the counter.
âYou take care of people like itâs instinct,â Billy says.
Y/N laughs softly. âSomeone has to.â
Billy smiles. Small. Private.
That smile should unsettle him.
Stu wakes up loud.
âWhat time is it?â he groans, stumbling into the kitchen and immediately bumping into Y/Nâs shoulder. âUgh. My back is killing me.â
âYou slept crooked,â Y/N says, already nudging him toward a chair. âSit.â
Stu blinks. âWow. Bossy in the mornings too?â
âSit,â Y/N repeats.
Stu does. He lets Y/N fussâlets him push the coffee toward him, lets him fix his collar, lets him hover. Billy watches it all with an expression Y/N canât quite read.
âYou guys hear the news?â Stu asks between sips.
Y/N stiffens. âWhat news?â
âAnother curfew thing,â Stu says lightly. âSheriffâs freaking out again.â
Y/Nâs jaw tightens. âThis isnât funny.â
Stu lifts his hands. âDidnât say it was.â
Billy cuts in smoothly. âYou should stay home today.â
Y/N looks at him, surprised. âWhat?â
Billy shrugs. âJust⌠feels safer.â
The word safer echoes wrong.
Y/N nods anyway. âOkay.â
Stu grins. âLook at that. Team effort.â
They share a look over Y/Nâs head.
Y/N doesnât see it.
The realization doesnât arrive all at once. It comes in moments that donât add up. Billy never looking tired. Stu never seeming shaken. The way they talk about fear like itâs theoretical.
It comes when Y/N insistsâagainâon walking Billy home, and Billy lets him. Lets him fuss. Lets him hover. Lets him put himself in danger without protest.
âYou donât have to do this,â Billy says, almost gently.
âI know,â Y/N replies. âBut I will.â
Billy stops walking.
âYou really think youâre protecting us,â he says.
Y/N hesitates. âArenât I?â
Billy smiles. Not unkindly.
âThatâs⌠sweet.â
The word lands wrong.
Later, when Stu shows up alone that nightâtoo cheerful, too calmâY/N finally notices whatâs missing.
Fear.
âYouâre not scared,â Y/N says quietly.
Stu tilts his head. âShould I be?â
âYes,â Y/N whispers. âEveryone else is.â
Stu doesnât answer.
The air shifts.
It happens late. Quiet. No mask. No knife.
Just Y/N sitting on his bed, staring at the window lock heâs checked a hundred times.
Patterns click into place.
The timing. The confidence. The way Billy watches exits. The way Stu jokes to redirect.
âOh,â Y/N breathes.
Love doesnât make you blind. It makes you generous with explanations.
Billy knocks first. Two taps. Pause. One more. Stu laughs outside the window. Y/N doesnât open it right away. Billy notices immediately. âYou okay?â Billy asks.
Y/N opens the window anyway.
âI spent weeks terrified of losing you,â Y/N says calmly. âAnd you were never afraid.â
Silence.
Stuâs grin falters.
Billy steps closer. âYou figured it out.â
âDid you ever mean it?â Y/N asks, voice breaking despite himself. Billy doesnât hesitate. âYes.â
âThatâs worse,â Y/N whispers.
Billy reaches outâgentle, devastating.
âYou loved us,â Billy says.
Y/N swallows. âI still do.â
Billy smiles. Real. Sad.
Y/N unlocks the window. Not because he trusts them. But because love taught him how not to look away.
It isnât fear that breaks Y/N.
Itâs the realization that his moral centerâthe thing he trusted more than anythingâhas been used against him.
âI kept you safe,â Y/N says quietly.
Billy stills.
Stuâs mouth opens, then closes.
âI walked you home,â Y/N continues. âI stayed up waiting. I checked your hands for blood like I was scared it would be there and it never was. I trusted you.â
His voice doesnât rise. Thatâs worse.
âYou let me believe I was doing the right thing.â
Billy steps forward instinctively. âYou were.â
Y/N laughs once. It sounds wrong. âNo. I was helping monsters.â
Stu flinches. âHeyââ
âNo,â Y/N cuts in, sharper now. âDonât soften it. Donât joke it away. You knew what you were doing.â
Silence presses in.
Billy swallows. For the first time, he looks unsure. âWe didnât plan on you getting hurt.â
âThatâs not the same as caring,â Y/N says. âYou let me love you thinking it meant something good.â
Stu moves first as he always does hands up like surrender. âIt did mean something. It still does.â
Y/Nâs hands shake. He doesnât hide it this time.
âMy whole life, I believed that caring for people was⌠enough,â he says. âThat if I stayed kind, stayed careful, Iâd be on the right side of things.â
Billyâs voice drops. âYou are.â
Y/N looks at him. Really looks.
âI donât know how to be good anymore,â Y/N whispers. âNot after this.â
Thatâs when panic finally cracks through them.
Billy reaches out, then stops himself, like heâs afraid to touch something fragile. âTell us what to do.â
Stu nods too fast. âYeahâyeah. Weâll fix it. We can fix it.â
âYou canât,â Y/N says. âYou donât fix what you broke. You live with it.â
Billyâs jaw tightens. âWe donât want to live without you.â
The words arenât a threat.
Thatâs what scares him.
They donât try to justify it after that.
Billy talks instead about them. About how Y/N made things quieter. How the world felt more controlled when Y/N was watching. How it felt like being chosen.
Stu admits it uglier. âYou made us feel⌠normal.â
Y/N closes his eyes.
âThatâs the worst part,â he says. âI didnât see you because I wanted to believe you were worth saving.â
Billy exhales slowly. âYou still are.â
Y/N looks at them both, at the boys he loved, at the killers they are, and feels something inside him split cleanly in two.
âI donât trust you,â he says.
Stu nods, tears bright and furious. âI know.â
âI donât know who I am with you,â Y/N adds.
Billy answers quietly. âThen weâll wait.â
Y/N opens the window wider, not as an invitation, not as surrender. As acknowledgment.
Woodsboro never really goes back to normal.
Neither does Y/N.
Trust doesnât return. Not fully. Morality doesnât settle cleanly again. There are nights when Y/N still checks locks out of habit. Days when kindness feels heavier than it used to.
Billy and Stu donât disappear.
They linger careful now. Watching. Waiting. Desperate not to lose the one person who saw them as something other than what they are.
Y/N doesnât forgive them. But he doesnât pretend he never loved them either.
Sometimes, love doesnât save you.
Sometimes, it just teaches you how to live with the truth.
And Y/N does.
Quietly. Carefully.
With the window closed.
note : well Iâm back..! hopefully this makes up for my long long long absence
ÂŠď¸ sethcertified 2026. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my explicit permission and credit
like a deer â yandere! poly! stuilly x male! prescott! reader
length: 1.1k
requested by đ!!
the plot of this one one got away from me a little bit whoops
major tws: murder (duh), graphic depictions of violence, major character death (itâs not you or our pretty boys though <3), knifeplay? idk they get real fucking horny with it, dubcon!! serious dubcon with the knife stuff, billy also gets kinda slutty with blood too srry, a kind of graphic description of a roadkill deer, some of that nice 90s internalized homophobia, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation/coercion? sort of?, these little homosexual freaks are unhinged (you included)
Theyâd found her hanging from a tree in her front yard, gutted like a deer.
You, of course, had been the first person questioned by the police. Shaken and disturbed, youâd quickly found solace in your best friends, Billy and Stu.
~~~
The glass of Stuâs bedroom window was cold against your knuckles as you rapped on it. You only had to wait a moment in the freezing cold before the window slid open, a sleepy Billy rubbing his eyes as he let you inside.
âYou forgot to put the spare key back under the doormat, you asshole,â you grumble to Stu as you clamber into his massive rich-boy bed. The taller boy giggles, wrapping his arms around you.
The two of them had always been touchy with you. Always with a hand on your hip or your lower back, an arm slung over your shoulders, interlaced fingersâŚ
(You had your own suspicions that Billy and Stu might beâŚtogether, but youâd never say it aloud.)
It was totally normal for guys to share a bed at a sleepover, right? Girls do it all the time.
Totally normal.
~~~
Next to go was your girlfriend, Heather.
You didnât feel sad. You feltâŚnumb. You felt nothing.
Iâm just so sad that I canât even feel anything, you reasoned with yourself, trying not to think too much about Billyâs hand wandering a little closer to your ass than usual as he wrapped you up in a sympathetic hug. Thatâs it. Of course. Boys always feel relieved when their girlfriends die. Thatâs totally normal. Everythingâs fine.
~~~
One by one, your friend group was shrinking. People were being killed off left and right. Youâd gotten the news about Janis right you and Billy left the movie theater. Sadie had been found in the pool by her big brother while you were busy beating Stu ass at Chutes and Ladders. When Wyatt turned up dead, youâd been taking a joyride with Billy in his dadâs Viper. When Teddy died, youâd been getting ice cream with Stu.
All four were found gutted.
Like deer.
Despite how much theyâd been hanging out with you as of late, youâd declined Billy and Stuâs invitation to come hunting with them that weekend.
~~~
âYou wanna come over after school? My dadâs outta town, so we can watch whatever the hell we want.â
âCanât. Iâve got, uh, homework,â you lie, refusing to meet Billyâs eyes as you slammed your locker shut and hurried away.
~~~
âYouâve been avoiding us all week,â Billy accuses, stepping in front of the door to block your exit as you try to leave the cafeteria
âDid we do something wrong?â Stu asks anxiously, fluttering around by Billyâs side.
âNo! No. Of course not.â
âThen why are you avoiding us?â
You bite your lip, nervous to tell them the truth.
âIâm afraid you two will be next.â
~~~
Absently, you wonder how Stuâs going to get all of that blood out of his nice beige sweater. Youâd bought him that sweater last year for Christmas.
Stu kneels in front of you, resting his bloody hands on your hips as he looks up at you imploringly. âPlease forgive us?â
How do you get blood out of clothes? Cold water? Orâ is it warm water? Sidney would know. You ought to ask her.
âBaby?â Stu begs, his fingers curling in your shirt as he grips you tightly.
Oh. Right. You canât ask Sidney.
Sheâs dead.
Billy is skillfully using his body to block your view of the carnage on the floor, doing his best to keep you from freaking out.
His hands are on you, running through your hair, lightly touching your cheek. Heâs sticky, with your sisterâs blood, your fatherâs blood, Stuâs blood, his own blood, and fucking corn syrup.
âSweetheart?â Stu questions, hooking a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugging on it lightly. âSee? We love you.â
Youâre horrified. They murdered thirteen people to show their love.
(You wouldâve been fine with just a box of chocolates and some flowers, but yâknow. Billy refuses to half-ass things.)
âDo you need us to prove it to you?â
Stuâs got a crazed look in his eye that makes you shrink back. But Billyâs grip on you is tight enough that you can barely move at all, forced to watch as Stu yanks off his ruined sweater, unabashedly moaning like a slut when the fabric catches on his fresh stab wounds, ripping back open the flesh that was so desperately trying to knit itself back together.
Billy hands Stu his buck knife, watching with rapt attention as the man holds it over his chest. Stu doesnât even flinch, watching in a trance as the tip of the blade sinks into his flesh, droplets of red already welling to the surface. He drags the blade along his skin, carving your initials into his chest, right above his heart.
When heâs finished, he hands the knife back to Billy, who reverently takes it, studying the fresh red sheen on the metal before pressing his tongue flat against the side of the blade and licking off Stuâs blood.
You look away, disgusted and somehow turned on at the same time.
(You canât help but sneak a look when the two boys share a messy, blood- and spit-soaked kiss. Fuck.)
Billy yanks off his corn syrup-stained white shirt, tossing it carelessly on the floor, where it hits your dead father in the face. He steadies the knife, holding it over his chest and doing the same thing as Stu just did.
You choke out a sob, unable to rectify this image of your boys as psychotic murderers with the image of them just last night, cuddling up with you in bed and leeching off of your warmth and rambling about horror movies.
âSweetheart?â Billy murmurs, cupping your face in his hand. âLook. Look, see? We love you. We love you.â
They love you. They love you.
You keep mentally repeating that mantra to yourself. Even as you are forced to scrunch your eyes through the pain of the knife carving two sets of initials into your chest. Even as you look at the bodies of your sister and father one last time. Even as Billy scoops you up to carry you to Stuâs van in a way thatâs supposed to be playful but just comes across as a final doomed death sentence, the clang! of a prison door slamming shut. You repeat your mantra even as you pass by the bodies of Randy and Dewey; even the mutilated body of that obnoxious bitch from Top Story makes you have to look away.
They love you. They love you.
Stu drives, on the lamb. Billy lays in the back with you, curled up with you on the bed in Stuâs stupid âshagginâ wagonâ.
Your eyes are glued to the smiley-face shaped air freshener dangling from Stuâs rear view mirror. You canât look at Billy right now.
They love you. They love you.
You can almost trick yourself into believing it, at least for a little while.
But the sight of the dead deer on the side of the road, visible through the front windshield, its chest smashed and broken like a piĂąata, sends you spiraling.
When you look back at the stupid air freshener hanging from the mirror, its bright yellow face smiling at you only feels mocking and cruel. All you can see is Caseyâs body hanging from that damned tree.
I don't remember if I sent this earlier, so I just wanna make sure. poly!ghostface (billy and stu) helping their trans male s/o while he's on his period. I think that would just be. great.
(gif credit: horrorseason)
Billy and Stu helping their trans male s/o while he's on his period
Word count: 647
Note: Sorry I posted late I wrote this then hated it so I changed it, it's a bit short but I hope it's still okay!
You felt like pure shit. You didn't know which was worse, the cramps or the sinking feeling you felt when you had realised what was going on. By now you had already showered and changed and now you were just laying in your little fortress of pillows and blankets in pain trying to sleep off your period, even though you knew it wasn't going to just disappear like that - you wish it were as easy as that but it wasn't. You barely got a second of peace before you heard familiar whispers coming from outside your bedroom window.
'Shut up, Stu. We're trying to surprise him-'
'I can hear you!' Groaning in pain, you turned to face the window to see your two boyfriends trying and failing to quietly sneak in.
'You woke him. Nice going, dumbass.' Billy smacked him and looked back at you. 'We got you some things.' He held up two bags and Stu held up two more bags behind him, a smile plastered on his face which was enough to make you smile even though you were in pain. You slowly sat up and watched them climb in and throw the bags onto the end of your bed.
'How did you know?'
'Same as last time.' Stu muttered as he began digging through one of the bags before pulling out three movies. 'Alright so we got some movies, food, products, pain killers and- Billy where's the other thing.' Stu starting going through the bags again and pulled out a teddy bear. 'It reminds me of you because you give the best cuddles-' Stu went in for a hug but stopped when he remembered what was happening and quickly apologised.
'You guys didn't have to do all this. It's not like I'm dying, just feels like it.' You said as you felt a cramp coming up and clutched your stomach. 'Fuck.' You waited until the pain was beginning to die down and looked up at your boyfriends who both looked sad but were trying to hide it. They hate seeing you in pain and they hate not being able to do anything apart from . 'It's fine. I think I need that cuddle, Stu.'
Stu's face lit up as he almost dived in for a hug followed by Billy who looked like he wanted to say something as he leaned out of the hug. 'Hey Stu, go put these in the bathroom.' Stu shook his head and held onto you until Billy made a face at him, to which Stu took the products and walked off before Billy turned to you. 'Hey Y/N?'
'Yeah, Billy?'
'You know that me and Stu don't see you any different, right? You're not any less of a man for bleeding.'
'Billy-'
'No, I know this makes you feel like crap and I know I remind you every month but it's true.' You smiled and he scooted closer and pulled your head onto his chest. 'Do you feel better?'
'Yeah. The pain's still there but I can handle it.' Billy kissed the back of your head and the two of you stayed like that for the brief moment that you two were alone until Stu returned and jumped cross legged onto the end of your bed - nearly falling off in the process - and grabbing one of the movies. 'Are we gonna watch Evil Dead?'
'Dude we were having a moment.' Billy groaned and threw a pillow at him.
'What? Without me?' He pouted and grabbed the Evil Dead cover without a "yes" or "no" and turned the tv on. As soon as the movie started, Stu grabbed the snacks and dropped them in your lap before sitting beside you. 'Is it safe to hug you?' You didn't respond and snuggled into him and while you were distracted, Billy opened one of the bags and stole a bar of chocolate.
Movie!Michael Afton x GN!Reader | No use of Y/N, Implied Child Abuse, Crying, Hurt/Comfort
ââ§â§â§
You knew Michael was traumatized, but you never fully grasped the extent of it.
You had been working with him for a little over two months. At first, he kept you at a distance, sometimes even leaving you on your own for hours on end when you hadnât learned the job yet. Being close to anyone for too long made his skin crawl, like he wasn't made to be social, but with time, he learned to live with you around.
With his strange demeanor and unnatural facial expressions, you could tell he had gone through something. You made sure to give him space, to be patient with him, in fear that he'd get scared off if you tried to pry into his personal life. He was like a stray cat, in a way; you wanted to approach him and get to know him, but you knew he'd run away if you weren't gentle and patient with him.
For your first month as coworkers, he rarely spoke to you beyond a quick, artificial greeting at the beginning of your shift and cryptic statements that he wouldn't elaborate on. Sometimes, he'd sneak up on you, wordlessly watching you work from a distance. No flashlight, no warnings, just standing in a darkened hallway or behind a corner. At first, you'd look back and jump when he appeared behind you as a dark silhouette. With time though, you learned to listen for his near-silent footsteps and gave him a warm smile whenever he came to visit you. You saw it as a sign that he had become more comfortable being around you and that he was warming up to your presence, as creepy as his behavior was.
Eventually, he started talking to you. At first, they were short conversations, if you could even call them that. He asked some intrusive question about yourself, you answered, and he wouldn't follow up or share his own answers. Michael Afton was a secretive man, he couldn't trust you with anything that you could end up using against him. You never pressed him further, figuring that he was simply socially inept or untrusting. With a little time, you became more daring and started asking seemingly innocuous questions of your own.
Truthfully, you were trying to gather information on the mysterious man you worked with, because you really didn't know anything about him except his name. Of course, he could see right through you but he found it almost charming that you were interested enough in him to speak to him. He'd started to share details about his life. His favorite animatronic was Foxy, he grew up around Freddy's, he lived in his family home on his own (and refused to elaborate further when asked about it).
You still didn't know much about the night guard, but you could tell he became overly cautious whenever you asked about his family. Did he have a family member involved in one of those freak accidents at Freddy's you had heard about? Were his parents absent? What if he never had a family in the first place? You didn't want to ask such personal questions, but you were intrigued by the way his expression changed to something more somber whenever the topic of his family came up. You mentally wrote down that it was a sensitive topic for him; you didn't want to mention your own family and accidentally make him uncomfortable or upset.
Your schedule shifted around weekly to different tasks to "keep you entertained," as Michael had put it. To you, it seemed like he just didn't like spending all his time monitoring the old, barely working cameras in that humid, stuffy office. It made sense, you didn't like it much either. Being in that office always felt like something could jump out at you at any moment. This week, you had been put on animatronic repair duty while your coworker roamed around the pizzeria, checking for any break-ins or break-outs.
You approached the Toy animatronics with a groan, already seeing what needed repair. Chica's beak was missing, again. She had the habit of losing her beak every time she moved around the old pizzeria. And of course, it was always left in the most inconvenient, hard to see places. It was almost like she did it on purpose.
You had never actually seen any of the animatronics move, but Michael had informed you that they sometimes liked to move at night, and that they apparently "didn't like adults." Whatever that meant. He had warned you to stay away from them if you ever saw them move. You remembered the way he said it, almost like he was trying to protect you.
You searched every nook and cranny of the abandoned pizzeria for nearly an hour before finding the lost beak. You had found it on a small box among a pile of boxes. You had walked past it three times before seeing its signature plastic shine with your flashlight. You grabbed it carefully, not wanting to break it, and you returned to Chica. You looked for a way to re-attach the beak to her face, preferably in a permanent way. Every time you tried sticking it back, it would fall right off. That terrifying mouth of hers got revealed every time the beak came off. It almost felt like she was mocking you.
"You're doing it wrong."
You jumped. You were too focused on getting Chica's stupid beak back on that you didn't hear Michael practically breathing down your neck.
"Let me do it," he stated plainly, grabbing the animatronic beak from your hands.
He put down the toolkit he had brought. He seemed to know his way around animatronics and machines. Maybe he really cared about them, you thought. He seemed to open up to you more whenever you brought up the animatronics and the way they functioned. His movements were smooth, unlike his usual robotic, artificial demeanor. He pouted slightly as he focused, brows furrowed. You found it cute.
Michael made quick work of Chica's beak and started working on maintenance for her other parts, opening up her plastic casing to gain access to her endoskeleton. You stared in awe at his repair skills, leaning forwards to get a closer look at his precise movements.
"You're really good at this!," you exclaimed.
A pause.
Not long enough for you to say anything or look back at him, but a few seconds, enough to notice it. He kept working silently, this time more shakily. Did he have some sort of performance anxiety?
Eventually, he finished working on Chica and closed her animatronic chest back in place, its shiny surface now had faint fingerprint marks from where Michael touched it.
You looked back, into his blue eyes. They used to creep you out, now you found comfort in them, "Great job Michael! I don't think I would've been able to do this on my own," you smiled. "Your parents must be so proud to have raised someone as intelligent as yâ," you stopped yourself. It was too late.
His eyes widened. His lip twitched. You knew you had messed up. In your excitement over his work, you had completely forgotten that family was a sensitive subject. You froze, trying to come up with some sort of apology that would defuse the situation.
Michael looked away, his features shrouded in the darkness of the old pizzeria. You winced, half-expecting him to hurt you in some way. Maybe a punch, maybe a pocket knife to your throat. He mumbled something, to you or maybe just to himself. You couldn't make it out, you asked him to repeat himself.
A small, whispered, "They weren't proud of me."
His voice was shaky, you could tell he was holding back tears. Out of all the reactions you expected, it wasn't this. He seemed small, weak. You almost wished he got angry instead. You wanted to come up with some sort of elaborate response, something like don't let other people's judgement bring you down that you'd see in those overly optimistic and tone-deaf motivational quotes.
"Well...," you paused, unsure of yourself. "I'm proud of you."
You tried your best to sound confident. You didn't know if it was the right way to answer, if answering was a good idea at all.
Michael looked back at you, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes, the sight made your heart shatter into pieces. You had grown to care deeply about your coworker. Hundreds of hours had been spent by his side, and you had learned to like his quirks. You didn't want to see him like this.
"You don't mean that," his voice broke on the last syllable.
He couldn't accept the idea of anyone being impressed by him, or proud of him, or just content with him. You didn't know the kind of childhood he had experienced, but this alone told you that he had been deeply hurt. He kept it all concealed behind a mask of confidence and indifference with his creepy, off-putting smile and you were fooled by it.
You leaned forward, looking into his glassy eyes for permission. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether he was allowed to feel this comfort, before giving a small, approving nod.Â
You tentatively wrapped your arms around his neck, making sure to be slow and gentle with your movements, predictable for him. He was stiff, frozen like a statue. He was afraid of moving, as if you'd disappear if he did. But you didn't, you stayed there, arms around him, waiting for him to reciprocate, to allow himself to be vulnerable.
You held him slightly tighter, a silent promise that you wouldn't leave him. That made him break down. You couldn't see his face from this angle, but you could hear his erratic breathing and sniffling. He was desperately trying to stay silent but he couldn't help the small whimpers that escaped him.
He awkwardly wrapped his arms around your waist. The movement was uncertain, shy, like it was his first time receiving a hug. Something about that pained you to think about. Unlike you, his hold wasn't gentle; he buried his face into your neck and grabbed at your shirt, scrunching it in his fists.
A broken sob, "Please, don't leave me."
"It's okay, you're okay," you whispered to him as you brought a hand to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. You didn't miss how he stopped breathing when you moved, like he thought you were going to let go.
You held each other for what could've been 10 minutes or 45. You listened to his irregular breath until it became more stable, whimpers dying down into small sniffles, but he was still shaking. He had been through some traumatic things, that much was obvious. You wanted to show him safety and warmth. You wanted to hold him until everything stopped hurting.
Eventually, you heard Michael sigh in relief while still gripping your shirt tightly. He was getting more comfortable. His breathing evened out. You were still playing with his hair, still holding him. He felt safe.
By this point, you assumed he had fallen asleep. He was still holding onto you for dear life, but he had stopped shaking and you felt his muscles relax further. You smiled, an embarrassing blunder had turned into something unexpectedly raw and vulnerable. You still felt bad, but you knew you'd find a way to make up for it.
For now, you wanted to live in the moment with this Michael. The Michael behind the facade, the Michael who yearned for acknowledgement and safety, the real Michael. You focused on his slow breathing, warm against your neck.
You held him closer, "I'm not leaving you, I promise.â
ââ§â§â§
A/N: Thank you for all the love on my Michael fics :>
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