Stranger (Johnny slaughter x reader)

Backpack

Back in the family home, Nubbins sat in the living room with Grandpa, talking more at him rather than with him.

"A-and Johnny, that big bully," Nubbins mimicked an explosion sound and laughed, "he just..." His words trailed off as he struggled to find them, but his enthusiasm carried him through. "But really, it was mine. But that's okay, though. Johnny told me I did a great job, and... and I did!" Nubbins beamed, his eyes sparkling with childlike pride.

Grandpa sat there, his elderly frame slouched in the armchair, mostly silent as he usually was. He occasionally emitted a low groan, but his expression remained inscrutable.

Just as Nubbins finished his sentence, Cook shuffled into the living room from the kitchen. He was a stout and weathered figure, his eyes narrowed in a perpetual state of disapproval. He rarely intervened in Nubbins' stories, but today, something seemed to rub him the wrong way.

"What's all this noise, boy?" Cook grumbled, his voice a low growl as he glanced at Nubbins. There was no real reason for his irritation, but he couldn't resist finding fault in the smallest things when he was in one of his moods.

Nubbins, taken aback by Cook's sudden presence and stern tone, stammered, "I was just... telling Grandpa about Johnny and how I helped with something. I did good, right?"

Cook scowled as he crossed his arms, his frustration seemingly growing by the second. "Good? Good ain't enough in this family, Nubbins. You oughta be doin' great, and I ain't hearin' great from your mouth right now."

Grandpa remained silent, his presence serving as a constant but detached backdrop to the exchange.

But Cook wasn't in the mood to back down. He pointed an accusatory finger at Nubbins. "Excitement don't put food on the table, boy. You need to do more 'round here, and you need to do it right. Now, quit disturbin' the peace with your nonsense."

Nubbins, dejected by Cook's scolding, grumbled his way upstairs. He muttered under his breath as he climbed the creaking staircase, disappearing from the living room. The weight of Cook's expectations hung over him like a heavy cloud.

Nubbins, feeling frustrated, began searching for Bubba upstairs. He opened every door he could find, one by one, hoping to spot his brother. The old wooden doors creaked and groaned in protest as he pushed them open, revealing empty rooms, some filled with dusty furniture and old belongings. Nubbins called out for Bubba as he continued his search, his voice echoing through the silent upper floor of the family home.

Nubbins finally found his younger brother in Sissy's room. Bubba was sitting on Sissy's bed, surrounded by a pile of fashion magazines. He looked up, surprised to see Nubbins.

Nubbins let out an exasperated sigh. "What are you doing in Sissy's room?
Reading those- those fancy magazines?"
Nubbins giggled.

Bubba simply grunted softly in response, his inability to speak making communication a bit challenging.

Nubbins smiled and laughed as he gestured for Bubba to follow him and headed back downstairs, hoping to avoid any trouble with Cook.

Nubbins, with a mischievous grin on his face, tiptoed dramatically to the back door, placing a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture as he glanced back at Bubba. Bubba obediently followed, his grunts muffled as he tried to mimic the hushed tone, though it came out more like low groans.

They slipped out into the backyard, Nubbins still snickering softly. The night was filled with eerie silence, broken only by the occasional sound of crickets. With Bubba at his side, Nubbins gestured for him to watch as he rummaged through a nearby shed, looking for something that seemed to amuse him greatly.