#i want them to go through horror movie like events

[wr-n]

I want Nightmare to have dreams.

Not normal dreams of nonsensical story or memories resurfacing.

I want him to live a second life in his dreams where the shadows are filled with mechanical clicking, beasts lurk in every room, monsters disguised as loved ones.

And Nightmare has to survive them every time he goes to sleep.

Maybe Nightmare starts losing his handle over his powers and accidentally drags Cross and Horror into himself - into his dreams.

And now they have to survive and look for Nightmare to get out.

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅰ ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓌𝑜𝓁𝒻 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements explicit content, teratophilia, monster/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very obvious size difference, dacryphilia, ( slight?? ) somnophilia, cunnilingus, knotting. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you're invited to the bar by your bestfriend, barb. things go awry. ꒰m!werewolf ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝒜s you drift in and out of a light slumber, the sudden sound of your phone jolts you awake. The room is enveloped in darkness, and a chill lingers in the air, reminding you that you forgot to close the window. You shift in bed, directing your gaze towards the nightstand, and reach out to grab your phone, squinting against its blinding brightness. Running a hand through your tousled hair, you sit up and flick on the nearby lamp, illuminating the room.

As you settle in, your eyes slowly adapt to the light, allowing you to observe your surroundings. Glancing at your phone once more, you notice the time - it's already 9:27 PM. Your friend tried calling you five times, with the first call going unanswered for ten minutes.

As you slide out of bed, you stretch your arms and legs, grimacing at the sounds of your joints cracking. You brush your hands through your hair and make your way to the bathroom, turning on the light, and leaning against the sink, letting out a sigh at the sight of the bags under your eyes. Your lithe fingers gently pull at the skin under your eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Sighing, your arms drop to your side before lifting them to twist the faucet handle.

You bend down and form a makeshift bowl with your hands, sleepily awaiting the rush of water. The liquid cascades into your palms, filling them with a refreshing embrace. With a swift motion, you splash the cold water onto your face, instantly jolting your senses awake.

Huffing out a sigh, you shut off the tap, taking a brief pause to relish in the quietness of your home, before reaching for a soft hand towel to gently pat your face dry. Tossing the damp towel into the laundry basket, you pivot on your heels and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and shutting the door behind you.

Glancing around the room, you notice the scattered clothing on the floor and your disorganized dresser, and as much as you wanted to clean it, you simply lacked the motivation. Your gaze swiftly shifts away from the mess and you clear your throat.

"Hey, Alexa, Call Barb back."

As her robotic voice obediently chimes, you collapse onto your messy bed, emitting a groan in response to the piercing sound resonating in your ears. A brief moment of silence passes before you're taken aback, startled by Barb's exuberant cheer.

" Thank god! I thought you were dead! What are you doing right now?" The ambiance of music and conversation engulfs her, prompting yet another sigh from you- the nth one since you've woken up. You're now well aware of the reason for her call, but you're not in the mood to socialize or have a drink.

After all, this was your only free weekend for the next month or so; and besides, you had already planned a date with a tub of ice cream and a marathon of horror movies.

"I just woke up from a nap, where are you? It's loud."

The woman softly utters a flustered 'stop', likely to a guy she's flirting with. Barb clears her throat to hide a giggle. "I'm at a bar with Crystal and Kevin. Please come down!" The idea of socializing at that moment sent shivers down your spine. No matter how much you adored Barb, her offer didn't tempt you in the slightest.

Actually, the idea of socializing at that moment sent mind-numbing shivers down your spine, and just as you were about to decline, her following words elicit a gentle chuckle from you.

"And! Before you say no, I promise I won't ask you to come to any events for the next three months." The anxiety in her voice is palpable, and it begins to chip away at your resolve, her small whine finally breaks you and with a sigh, you find yourself smiling at her proposal. "Fine, send me the address and I'll be there as soon as I can. "

The place is bustling with noise and the unmistakable smell of sweat as you navigate your way to the bar. From the entrance, you catch sight of Barb's eye-catching cotton candy pink hair. She's engaged in light-hearted banter with a burly man, and although you hesitate to interrupt, you do so anyway.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, you bask in the comforting aroma that surrounds her. Barb was an absolute doll, and the instant connection you both had when introduced by a mutual friend three years ago is still strong. Barb was practically the sole reason you weren't a recluse.

A small chuckle escaped her lips as she affectionately placed her hand on your cheek. "That you babe?" She turns around as she hears your approving hum, and her gaze falls upon your attire. It wasn't flashy, considering this is just a bar. Your legs are clad in mom jeans, complemented by a band tee and a pair of chunky combat boots. In contrast to Barb's tight red dress, you may seem a bit underdressed, but your intention wasn't to find a hookup tonight; you're here to catch up with Barb.

She pressed her lips together, but eventually gave in and rolled her eyes before pulling you into a warm hug, without getting up from her seat.

" Henry, this is my best friend. " she beamed at you and playfully raised her eyebrows. "Bestie, this is Henry."

You cast your eyes towards him, uninterested."Hey, how are you?"

Without waiting for his response, you plant a kiss on Barb's forehead and gesture towards the other end of the bar. "I'll grab a drink and then search for Kevin and Crystal."

Barb's lips formed a pout as she nodded, her expression turning stern. "Don't leave without telling me okay?" You acknowledged her request with a nod, waving her off and making your way to the stool at the end of the counter, collapsing onto the chair, and releasing a weary sigh.

The bartender looked at you expectantly, prompting you to bite the inside of your cheek before simply requesting water - you had no intention of drinking tonight. Your eyes flit over the bar, taking small sips from your water bottle, looking for any eye candy. Eventually, your gaze landed on a man wearing a red, dirtied beanie, his eyes lowered. He's big and burly, with dark hair covering his forearms and a thick beard.

Your heart stutters in your chest, prompting you to clench your thighs together. His sun-kissed complexion exuded an irresistible aura of feral masculine energy, that made your nipples perk up and harden. You discreetly averted your eyes, taking a gulp of water to quell the sudden and embarrassing rush of desire.

Stealing another glance, your heart skips a beat when his hazel eyes meet yours. Flustered, you quickly look away, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. You had just got caught ogling a sexy hunky man, and you'd probably been drooling too.

You set your water bottle on the counter and pat your cheeks with your cold hands. Gradually mustering the courage, you decide to approach the man- the intimidating but hot man who sat in a booth alone. As you prepare to stand up, you are startled to find him just a few steps away from you, gaze searing and unwavering.

Towering at 6'4, he appeared even more imposing in person, his muscles clearly defined beneath his jacket. Despite your jitters, you offer a smile and a nod in his direction. His eyes briefly leave yours, locking with the bartender's. A surge of desire courses through you, his voice is deep and velvet-smooth, and it has your stomach in knots.

"Another bourbon."

His eyes fixated on you, captivating your very being and luring you into a trance. A timid squeak escaped your lips as you retreated into your shell - he exuded an aura of sheer intimidation. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth accompanied a subtle nod, but little else. You couldn't help but feel foolish for even attempting to engage with him because even though he didn't wear an expensive suit or look well off, he was way out of your league. At least, that's how it felt.

As he grabs the glass of bourbon, he disappears into the shadows of his lonely little booth. You feel the urge to approach him but two things hold you back– one- you don't know what you would say and two– you really have to pee.

Downing the last drops of water, you bring the bottle with you to throw in the garbage can. Suddenly, you come to a halt, noticing the lengthy line forming at the restroom — that was like a thirty-minute wait, you couldn't possibly hold your pee for that long.

The longer you pondered your next move, the more your bladder seemed to betray you. Your only choice was to venture outside and take care of business in the back. You clenched your jaw, cursed under your breath, and hurried to the back door. As you made your way, you locked eyes with Barb at the bar and gestured towards your urgent need. She responded with a nod and a thumbs-up before returning to her conversation. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out into the cool night air, feeling its gentle touch on your skin.

The town may have been small, but it possessed an allure that captivated its inhabitants. It wasn't the kind of place where everyone knew each other, yet it still retained an intimate charm. Nestled at the edge of town, this bar stood amidst the endless forest that enveloped the surroundings. It was easy to get lost in there.

Into the heart of the forest, you went, careful to avoid prying eyes as you attended to your needs, wary of the consequences if caught by the property owner or law enforcement. As you made your way through the trees, the dim glow of the bar faded and you continued to walk until you had to squint to see the bar lights.

The sound of your belt coming undone echoed through the stillness of the area and you feel your skin crawl with anxiousness. You can hear the steady stream of your pee hitting the leafy-covered ground and you cringe at the loudness of the sound. After you make sure you're at least a bit dry down there, you stand and pull your pants up. As you adjust yourself, a rustle in front of you makes your heart race.

Your hands freeze at your belt buckle, a deep, low, guttural growl meets your ears and suddenly you can see golden irises looking towards you. It's a wolf. Fear grips you as you step back, trembling with terror. As your eyebrows knit together, your gaze intensifies upon the creature before you. There is no denying its identity as a wolf, yet its sheer size is awe-inspiring, towering over you. Its maw is much too big, its teeth much too large and its physique exudes strength.

What the hell were you looking at?

It takes a step forward, snarling at you. Your body quivers with nervous energy, unable to find calm, unable to focus. Without hesitation, you pivot on your foot and sprint away, your eyes scanning the surroundings with newfound intensity - every obstacle, every tree, every shadow. Uncertain if the predator is gaining on you, uncertain if more have joined in on the chase - you refuse to look back. The snarls and the sound of rapid footsteps fade momentarily. Breathing becomes difficult, and your face is flushed and covered in sweat.

Seeking refuge behind a tree, you struggle to regain composure, your heart racing wildly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Crack

Sprinting away, driven by an insatiable desire for safety, you disregard the possibility that it might not be the wolf. You suddenly experience an excruciating pain that travels up your ankle, causing an ear-piercing shriek to erupt from your throat and obscure your vision with tears.

Your skull collides with the rugged terrain, engulfing your vision in darkness for a fleeting moment. As your mind gradually regains clarity, you steal a glance at your ankle, recoiling at the sight of the weathered bear trap sinking its fangs into your flesh. Thankfully, the wound appears shallow, and you offer a silent gratitude to God.

Crunch

You lack the strength to budge, even though it's not causing any real harm; the agony is unbearable. The wolf draws nearer, yet its snarls transform into a plaintive whine. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open, as your body becomes paralyzed by the sensation of its scorching breath against your face.

It continues its advance, until it reaches your leg, eliciting a whimper from you as its jaws envelop it. Although no additional pain ensues, the sound of fabric rending fills your ears. With trepidation, you finally summon the courage to open your eyes, only to find half of your pant leg ripped away.

Crack, Crack

Bones are breaking, you can hear every crack and also see them breaking under the wolf's fur. As the wolf's fur ripples, you witness the gruesome spectacle of bones splintering beneath its skin. A sickening sensation rises in your throat, causing you to retch violently onto the verdant grass below. The cracking stops but you make no move to look again.

The searing agony dissipates, replaced by the faint rustling of metal being pried apart and discarded with a metallic clink. A rough, yet tender and moist touch glides over your wound, gradually erasing the numbness that enveloped you. The scorching pain that once tormented you is now but a distant memory.

Facing the creature, you realize it has grown even larger, standing at an impressive 9 feet tall. Its massive frame is covered in thick, dark fur, making it almost impossible to discern its true shape. The only colors visible are the glowing gold of its eyes and the pink knot nestled against your thigh. You swallow heavily and avert your eyes quickly, eyes flitting to the wolf's face.

Your heart races as you feel its large hand holding your leg, the gentle touch of its claws sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of its tongue brushing against your skin sends waves of pleasure through your body, despite the fear that grips you. His nose twitches, his eyes flicking towards you, the tension in his muscles palpable.

Your body quivers like a leaf, appearing fragile and small beneath the werewolf, so easily breakable. You can feel his cock stiffening even more, almost impossibly so. Reluctantly, you retract your leg from his grasp, edging back slowly. He watches you with intelligent eyes, tracking your every motion. Struggling to rise, you opt to flip onto your hands and knees, clutching a nearby tree for support— still uncertain of your 'healed' ankle.

There's a pressure on your waist, claws teasing your delicate hips, barely breaking the skin, and you cry out as your pants are torn from your legs, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin. He pauses for a moment, snout coming close to your sex before sniffing deeply. As tears cascade down your cheeks, you instinctively lash out, kicking your leg in a desperate attempt to distance yourself.

Your combat boot forcefully collides with its face, a feeble protest that is met with a mocking snort. With a single swipe of its claw, your delicate undergarments are effortlessly torn apart, leaving your hole quivering, and juices leaking without permission. Drawing nearer, its snout radiates warmth, causing you to recoil, your eyes squeezed shut. Yet, they swiftly snap open as its wide, elongated, and moist tongue begins to sensually lap at you, the roughness of its muscular appendage gently grazing your entrance and occasionally slipping inside.

Against your will, you're moaning loudly. Your eyes roll back and your lower lip is trapped between your teeth. The hand that was holding onto the tree is now on its snout, attempting to push it away. Your face is pressed into the ground, your back arched in a deliciously painful curve, and your ass is raised high in the air.

It laps at you eagerly like a thirsty dog, and you're lost in a sea of pleasure, moaning and pleading for more, despite yourself. You love every second of this, and it makes you feel disgusted with how enamored you are at what this monster's tongue is doing to you.

You're enveloped in a sea of pure white, as its tongue explores the depths of your being, gently caressing your sensitive spots and teasing your g-spot. It's tongue fucking you so well, like it possesses an intimate map of your body. Its tail sways rhythmically as your trembling thighs embrace its snout, cum dripping onto its eager tongue. Your body spasms with pleasure, and it revels in its satisfaction.

Your pussy tightens slightly, releasing your desire onto your inner thighs, playfully winking at the creature, enticing it to take you. Its hands encircle your waist, contrasting your size against it. The tip of its red cock is lined with your entrance and it finds it a bit difficult to slip the head in at first, you're a tight squeeze.

" No. No, it won't fit!" It's thick and long, and so much bigger than a normal cock, and that thought terrifies you. You shriek as it inches into you slowly, pussy stretching to attempt to accommodate its thickness. You shake your head, crawling forward and attempting to escape the overwhelming intrusion. However, its deep snarl makes you whimper and freeze.

You weakly resist one last time, wriggling your hips to stop it from completely ruining you for any other man, but as it sinks into your quivering, messy cunt, you stop struggling.

Despite the tension in its muscles, it takes its time. The beast is exceptionally thick, so its cock is heavy inside you. The drag of its bulbous tip on your g-spot has you whimpering and drooling over yourself. Abruptly its massive frame envelops you, hands firmly gripping your hips.

How ironic, a canine-like creature ravishing you in the primal position of doggy style.

With a powerful thrust, it plunges its rigid cock deep inside you, its pelvis pressing against your ass. The weighty orbs of its balls collide against your clit, brimming with cum, and despite knowing you shouldn't, you crave every drop of its hot seed.

Your sight becomes hazy, and the world around you blurs as pleasure consumes you. It's an overwhelming sensation that brings tears to your eyes. Each touch from it sends electric shocks through your body, it's touching every nerve inside of you effortlessly. Despite feeling completely satisfied, a deep craving for more remains. The desire to feel it cum inside of you.

With each thrust, a creamy white residue encircles its cock and you're not sure how you've cum so many times in such a short period, but your eager, filthy little hole is starting to feel tender and sensitive. You're whining and whimpering, a blubbering mess below it. You need more.

It starts to speed up, hips stuttering, and a whine building in its throat. With one final forceful thrust, it buries itself deep inside you. Its primal roar echoes in your ears, yet you lack the strength to shield them.

The wet, erotic sound as it pumps you full of cum makes you orgasm once more. Your poor slutty hole clenching around it. You've lost track of time since you left the bar, and you don't know how long the two of been fucking. Exhaustion washes over you, and all you desire is to return home.

However, it appears that th beast has different intentions. Suddenly, it lifts you up, positioning itself on its hindlegs, and you find yourself sitting upright on its throbbing cock. One of its hands ventures beneath your band tee, discovering your erect nipples, while the other firmly grips your hip, effortlessly thrusting you onto its shaft as if you were its own personal fleshlight. Its muzzle nuzzles against your neck, sending shivers down your spine as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, even though exhaustion consumes you.

–

When you came to, you were relieved to find yourself at your house, believing that maybe you had dreamt it, it couldn't have been real. But the evidence of your wild night with that beast is undeniable - the sticky puddle of cum on your sheets and the missed calls and texts from Barb serve as a tantalizing reminder. You can't remember how long he used your body for his pleasure but you do remember leaving a pool of cum where the two stayed that night. Though, one text stands out to you.

"Babe, a man came up to me earlier and said that he enjoyed you last night. WTF?! Bitch, spill."

[theprettyarachnid]

dating logan howlett would include

a/n: i’m lowkey on a roll yall

warning: nsfw themes

🕷️ you’re probably one of the only ones who have seen logan’s soft side

🕷️ he almost begs you not to sleep in the same bed with him because of his nightmares but you won’t hear it

🕷️ in fact you’ve been able to calm him down sometimes, caressing his face and tracing his jaw line

🕷️ he’s still scared he might hurt you by accident though no matter how many times you’ve told him that you have regenerative abilities too

🕷️ logan loves when you wear his shirts to sleep and because it’s practically a short night gown, he still has a view of your ass

🕷️ you cut his hair because he doesn’t like the way a regular barber does it

🕷️ you’ve tried to convince him to watch your romance shows but when he does he always falls asleep

🕷️ logan snores a lot in his sleep

🕷️ he doesn’t like celebrating his birthday because it’s ‘just another day’ but it’s clear that he appreciates the effort you put into it

🕷️ you got him a dog for his birthday because you knew he wanted one and he hasn’t let it out of his sight since

🕷️ you got him one of those wolf/dog hybrids

🕷️ logan has a pretty high sex drive so it’s not unusual to wake up with him in between your legs

🕷️ claims that he smelled your arousal

🕷️ claw marks on your thighs while he’s eating you out and when you pull on his hair, he’ll moan almost sounding animalistic

🕷️ he takes you out on dates regularly and if you tease him about it he’ll give a gruff response of “it’s how any woman should be treated, especially you”

🕷️ sometimes logan doesn’t understand why you want to be with him but eventually he’s just stopped asking that question

🕷️ holds your hand when you two go on walks with the dog

🕷️ and just in general

🕷️ if you’re a plant person, i feel like logan would be terrible at taking care of them

🕷️ he just doesn’t have a green thumb so instead you get him a fake plant

🕷️ he laughs and calls it stupid but he actually loves it because it reminds him of you

🕷️ whenever logan wears his glasses, you can’t help but find it extra attractive and he knows this

🕷️ whenever you do or say something stupid, he flicks you on the forehead

🕷️ logan is very protective of you and you can see it in pretty much all of his actions

🕷️ his hugs are extra tight and his grip around your waist gets tighter whenever another man looks at you

🕷️ he kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you, especially when he has to go on missions, and it’s because he truly believes it may be the last

🕷️ logan sometimes hates that you chose him to be with because everyone he has ever cared for or known has gone through traumatic events and in some cases have died

🕷️ this is why you can’t take him pushing you away sometimes to heart because you know it’s because he thinks it’s better that way

🕷️ logan gives me warm body vibes so whenever you’re cold, you can snuggle up to him and he’ll warm you right up

🕷️ hates when you put your cold hands or feet on his bare back

🕷️ logan loves when you make him coffee or cook for him

🕷️ he likes his coffee black

🕷️ enjoys watching horror movies with you because you’re snuggled up in a blanket shared between you two and leaning up against his chest

🕷️ moments like that make him feel very at ease

[sundrop-writes]

if Mike fell asleep with you...

Word Count: 750

Horror Characters Masterlist

Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.

A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.

...

Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 

He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 

You knew that sound anywhere. 

“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 

He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 

You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 

And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 

As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 

“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 

You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 

Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 

He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 

“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 

It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 

“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 

Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 

“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 

“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 

You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 

He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 

“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 

“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 

You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 

You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 

...

A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖

[imaginespazzi]

Part 5: The Answers We Wait For

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

I'd go back in time and change it (but I can't)

(In which a writer's busy schedule somehow still had time for her favorite obsession)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 7.0K (it's very on-brand that my busiest week would produce the longest chapter)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies :) How I managed to pull this off is between me and God at this point but here we are. I know it's been an interesting day to say the least, so I'm hoping me living up to my promises can be a silver lining. Quick note that I already fucked up the timeline at some point and Paige Olivia have actually been divorced for almost 3 years. I'll change that eventually. I actually didn't even try to really edit this chapter and in the choice between editing tomorrow and giving it to y'all today, I chose the latter. So please help a girl out and point out my typos/mistakes if you spot them and I will also eventually go back and edit. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forwards. Have a lovely week my loves <3

December 2027

Marriage and weddings had never been at the forefront of Paige’s mind. To be completely honest, for most of her life, there wasn’t much occupying her brain other than the court under her feet and the basketball in her hands. But the couple of times she had let herself picture it, she’d always thought that she’d have a Fall wedding, probably in Minnesota, maybe even on a basketball court. An indoor winter wedding in Texas had never once crossed her mind. She’d imagined vibrant fun bouquets made of pink lilies and purple hydrangeas, not the elegant red and white roses arrangements that were currently being placed along a far too heavily decorated aisle. Instead of vintage wines and carefully constructed fancy cocktails, she’d thought it would be nice to have spiked shirley temples and maybe even blue and white jello shots. She had expected to have a quiet ceremony followed by a vivacious gathering of everyone she loved. It had never even occurred to her that her wedding would become a public spectacle with People's magazine in attendance.  She’d pictured a party, not an event. 

Most of all she’d dreamt of getting married to a girl with dark eyes that could see all of Paige’s flaws and a soft smile that promised she’d love Paige despite them all. 

But the thing about dreams is that they’re fleeting trains that travel through the tracks of your mind when you’re asleep, and when you wake up, reality is nothing but a devastating train crash. 

Paige sighs, forcing herself out of her own head, as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She looks pretty. Brittany had found her a nice white wedding suit -fitted to perfection- matching it with dainty silver jewelry. Paige normally liked her outfits a little looser but Olivia loved it and Paige likes that Olivia loves it. Her hair is styled in a bun, with two straightened strands to highlight her face. She thinks she might have preferred to have them curled in the front but Olivia had sweetly insisted on them being straight because hers would be curly and they had to complement, not match. Paige doesn’t really understand the difference or the importance but she thinks if Olivia wants it like that then she's fine with it. She thinks the bold red lipstick heavily coating her mouth makes her look a little bit like a vampire out of a badly directed 90’s horror movie but Olivia had said it was necessary so that the lights and cameras didn’t wash her face out. 

Paige looks pretty. She just doesn’t really look like Paige. 

“What do you think Drewski?” she asks, twirling to face her stone-faced brother who’s sitting on the couch, with a bout of enthusiasm that rings hollow to her own ears, “do I look gorgeous or what?”

“You look weird,” Drews says stiffly and Paige sighs. 

“Dr-” Paige is cut off by her younger brother sauntering over. A confused expression spreads over her features as Drew takes her hand and places it on his forehead, “uh- what are you doing?”

“Paigey, doesn't my forehead feel hot? I feel so sick,” the little boy whines, letting out a series of overzealous dramatized coughs. 

“Your forehead feels fine,” Paige says, slowly removing her hand.

“Well of course you’d think that. You’re not a doctor who knows how to feel foreheads correctly. I think we need to go to the hospital to see a real doctor. Like right now,” Drew pulls at Paige’s hand as she begins to catch onto what he’s trying to make happen. 

“You’re fine Drew.”

“I’m NOT. I’m very, very, very sick. So we have to leave right now. I could be contagious. I could be a danger to all these people,” Drew’s animated hands start to fly everywhere, “you can’t get married when your little brother’s sick. It’s- it’s just wrong. Bad juju or something like that. Everybody will understand that you just had to call off the wedding. For family reasons.”

“Drew-” Paige tries again, a hard pit settling in her stomach. 

“Are you worried cause you didn’t bring your car? That’s okay I’m sure Ice or KK will drive us but you can’t get married today Paigey. You just can’t,” his bottom lip trembles as the façade of illness slips and Paige feels her own eyes start to get glossy, “it’s not right Paigey. This is all wrong. She’s all wrong.”

“It’s not like that Drew. You just haven’t gotten to know-”

“I don’t want to know her,” Drew yells, “you don’t even know her. How can you get married to someone you’ve barely dated for a year. How can you do this to Az-”

“That’s enough,” Paige’s voice is eerily calm, as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “watch how you talk to me-”

“You’re being stup-”

“Drew Thomas I am not going to repeat myself again. Behave yourself. You’re not nearly old enough to be questioning what I do with my life,” it takes every inch of self-control Paige has to not let her voice shake. 

Her younger brother’s words feel like acid rain pelting against her already wounded skin. They slip into the gashes, mixing into her bloodstreams to create an army with the battalion of her own thoughts that have been hacking away at her heart for god knows how long. Paige wonders how long it’ll be before she finally bleeds out. 

“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.”

There’s nothing but silence as Paige opens and closes her mouth. And she doesn’t know if she’s trying to get words out or breathe air in; all she knows is that Drew might be squeezing her hands, but it feels like someone is strangling her lungs. 

She’s saved from having to say anything by a hesitant knock on the door. As Drew begrudgingly goes to open it, Paige scrambles to put herself back together. She closes her eyes, taking in three deep breaths before-

Drew gasps and Paige’s eyes fly open. With her back turned to the door, she can’t see who it is and something like hope starts to bloom in her chest, vines of maybe it’s her weaving through her ribcage. And as she turns around, they turn to dust; dust that floats up to her eyes and makes them tear up again as she stares dumbfoundedly at the two people standing somewhat awkwardly in her doorway. 

Paige had grown up an independent child. It wasn’t that her parents were neglectful or that they hadn’t loved her enough because they had. But at first it was the constant fighting and then it was the nurturing of a brand new family with new children and Paige had slipped through the cracks of oh she’s so mature we don’t need to worry about her. She had always had her parents as cheerleaders in the stands; no one was prouder of Paige than they were. But no one had bothered to force her to drink terrible tasting immunity boosters. No had patiently dyed her hair purple and pinky promised to like it even if it turned out terrible. No one had yelled at her for being in the gym till one a.m or woken her up at an ungodly hour to run drills. Not until she’d met a girl at 15 and that girl’s parents had decided that Paige was just as much theirs as their own daughter. 

And suddenly there were more people added to her cheering squad for her wins. But that’s not when Paige fell in love with Tim and Katie Fudd. It was when she lost and there was a nagging finger followed by a full breakdown of what she could do better next time and finally, a bear hug promising they’d help her do it. They’d been there every step and she’d sent the invitation, scared they wouldn’t show up, that they wouldn’t be there for this step, a step that inadvertently took her further away from them. But here they are anyway. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Katie says softly, her own eyes moist as she takes in the sight of the bride, “you look- you look absolutely stunning Paige.”

“You came,” Paige whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t know if you would.”

“Of course we came,” Tim exclaims but his normal boisterous voice doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic, “always told you we’d be front and center at your wedding.”

Because I was supposed to marry your daughter; I was supposed to become your daughter, officially. 

“I’m really glad you guys came,” Paige says, letting Katie wrap her into a warm hug. She only gets a second to let herself enjoy it before Drew’s asking a question that makes her stiffen. 

“Where’s Azzi?” 

It’s like there’s lightning wrapped in that one syllable and it strikes right through Paige’s heart, setting every inch of it ablaze with the flames of a name that used to feel like cotton candy on her tongue; now it feels like lava. 

“She couldn’t make it,” Tim says slowly and Paige knows she shouldn’t be surprised, let along disappointed that her ex wasn’t coming but there’s a string that snaps anyways. 

“Why not?” Drew asks petulantly. 

“The baby’s due next month,” Tim tells him gently, “she can’t fly.”

The air feels suffocating at the mention of the baby. She’d been scrolling mindlessly through her tiktok feed when the announcement had popped up. She still has it memorized. 

Golden State Valkyries superstar shooting guard Azzi Fudd announces pregnancy on Instagram; she’ll miss the upcoming WNBA season. 

For a moment the world had stopped as Paige had hurriedly switched apps to instagram. And there it was. A smiling picture of Azzi holding a sonogram. Paige doesn’t know how long she’d stared at the picture but she remembers that it was set against a white background and she remembers that Azzi was wearing a green top. And as she’d typed out a congrats! that blended in seamlessly with all the other felicitating comments on the post, Paige had wondered if Azzi had felt it too. She’d wondered if, when Azzi had left a similar congratulations <3 post on Paige’s engagement announcement, she’d felt something unravel too. She’d wondered if Azzi had felt this hollowness of and i guess this is us signing off on never getting forever with each other. 

“So Azzi’s not going to stop this wedding?” Drew’s voice is dangerously even as he rounds on Paige, “and you’re really going through with this?”

“Drew please” Paige says tiredly as Katie runs a soothing hand down her back. 

“You’re stupid. And she’s stupid. You’re all so freaking stupid,” Drew bursts out, stomping past the adults in the doorway, his anger palpable in every single word. 

“I got it,” Tim says, wrapping a wrist around Paige’s hand as she moves to follow her younger brother. He squeezes gently, a half-hearted smile on his face, “it’s gonna be okay kid. It always is.”

Paige wishes she could just believe him, turn off the voices in her head and just be a kid who could take an adult’s word as gospel. But Paige is the adult now and believing no longer comes so naturally. 

“Hey,” Katie says after Tim runs after Drew, pulling Paige to sit with her on the couch, “I have a little wedding gift for you.

“Katie you don’t have-” Paige begins, watching as the older woman pulls out a velvet box from her bag, placing her phone on the table next to her. 

“Oh hush. I told you I’d give this to you,” Katie chides as she hands the velvet box. Paige’s eyes glisten as she opens it to find a familiar purple amethyst necklace. She’s flooded with the vivid image of her and Azzi on a random day in lockdown helping Katie organize her minimal jewelry. Paige had fallen in love with this necklace and Azzi had her eyes set on a pink topaz. It was fitting to say the least and Katie had promised them, with a glint in her eyes, that she’d give it to them as their something old on their wedding day. They’d been in between something and everything but Paige and Azzi had shared a shy smile over it anyways. 

“I can’t accept this,” Paige shakes her head trying to hand the box back but Katie dodges it expertly. 

“Yes you can. It’s basically a family heirloom and you, Paige Bueckers, are family,” Katie says firmly. 

“Katie-”

The older woman presses a kiss to Paige’s forehead as she starts to head out, “you’re always gonna be family Paige. Always.”

Katie’s words act like a band-aid but they’re not enough- maybe nothing will be enough- to fully heal the wound of today i was supposed to officially become a Fudd. 

A ringing noise interrupts Paige’s pity party and she starts half-heartedly digging around for her phone. She’s confused when she finds it because no one’s calling her and the room is still vibrating with noise. Crinkling her eyebrows, Paige’s eyes finally land on the couch side table, where Katie’s phone, clearly forgotten, is buzzing. 

Azzi’s CallerID flashes on the screen. 

Paige stares at the phone, rooted in place. She knows she shouldn’t pick it up, knows she should go return it. Still without a decision, Paige slowly starts to reach for it. And then it stops ringing and Paige goes still again, unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed. Swallowing, she takes another step. The phone rings again. A myriad of thoughts dance through Paige’s mind, opposing thoughts clashing with each other and making her head hurt. She lies to herself that it’s out of concern; that Azzi’s pregnant and this could be important. She lies to herself as she hits the green answer button that it’s not because she’s desperate to hear Azzi’s voice. 

“Mom?” Azzi sounds distraught when she picks up but Paige thinks it’s still her favorite sound any way, “Mom? I think I did something wrong. I can’t do this Mom. You’ve been gone a day and I’ve already fucked up. I don’t know what and I don’t know when but I think I fucked up. Maybe I ate something I wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it’s because I lay on my back instead of my side but Mom she hasn’t kicked all day and I can’t get Dr. Myers on the phone and I-”

“It’s a girl?” Paige breathes out. And suddenly she’s 22, sitting in a UConn apartment living room, grinning foolishly as Jana points out an AI picture that looks like the perfect mixture of her and Azzi. Azzi, who’s having a daughter. 

The woman in question is quiet and for a second Paige thinks that Azzi might hang up. 

“It’s a girl Paige,” Azzi says finally. 

“Are you- are you okay?” Paige asks slowly, trying not to dwell on how much she’s missed the way Azzi says her name. It’s been Bueckers every time they’ve seen each other this year and she’s never hated the sound of her last name more. 

“Yeah, I just-” Azzi sighs, her voice still a little frazzled, “I’m just being paranoid cause my Mom’s not here and my doctor’s not answering and the stupid baby hasn’t kicked all day,” she pauses, “sorry. I-I don’t mean to dump on you. Not today at least.”

“Az-”

“Where’s my Mom?”

“She- she’s probably outside. Think she left her phone here by accident. I can go find her but can I-” Paige hesitates, chewing at her lips in a way she knows Olivia hates, “can I help?”

“I don’t think-”

Paige shocks herself with her next words, “put the phone to your stomach.”

“What? Paige, did you hit your head in the last two seconds or something?”

“Just- just trust me,” she’s not really sure what she’s saying but now that she’s said, might as well commit to the bit, “I’mma talk sense into her. I saw it in a movie.”

“You saw it in a-” Azzi sighs and Paige can practically picture her rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know who’s more insane. You for coming up with the idea or me because I’mma follow through it,” there’s a bunch of static noise on the other side as Azzi adjusts herself, putting the phone on speaker and pressing it to her belly, “alright Dr. Bueckers work your magic.”

Paige is nervous as she speaks, “hey there little bean. I’m your-” she stops because what is she, “I’m your Paige,” she decides softly, “and I think- I think you should stop stressing your Mama out. She’s a bit of an overthinker so if you could just help her out, I think she’d really appreciate it. Because if- if you don’t she isn’t gonna be able to sleep tonight and you don’t know this yet but when your Mama doesn’t get sleep, she’s kind of a bi-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses.

“Big baby,” Paige corrects, “she’s a big baby. And then she cries and it’s not a pretty sight-”

“Hey!”

“Sshhh Azzi I’m working my magic,” Paige scolds, “where was I? Oh yeah. She cries and it’s not a pretty sight because,’ her voice softens, “seeing your Mama cry is the worst thing in the world. I hate it and I know- I know you’re gonna hate it too because when you finally come out little bean, the first thing you’re gonna see is your Mama’s smile. And you’re gonna think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Just like I do,” a sob escapes on the other end of the line and Paige feels tears start to cascade down her own cheeks, “come on little bean, give us a little kick. Make your Mama smile.”

Time ticks by slowly and Paige closes her eyes, thinking maybe her desperate attempt to keep Azzi on the line had failed miserably. And then Azzi gasps, “she kicked. Oh my god Paige she kicked.”

Paige’s grin stretches her whole face and for a second it almost feels like she’s right there with Azzi, that instead of her ear being pressed to a phone, it’s pressed to Azzi’s belly. For a second she almost feels like she can feel the baby kicking. And then she opens her eyes. 

“Did it make you smile?” 

“Yeah, yeah it did,” Azzi admits and Paige can hear the relief in her voice. 

“I’m glad- I’m glad you have something that makes you smile.”

“Do you?” Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “do you have someone that makes you smile?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” and it’s not a complete lie. Olivia does make Paige smile. And maybe it’s not quite as big or bright or real but at least Olivia’s here to try. 

“Good. I-I’m also really glad you have that.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am Paige,” Azzi says quietly, “I want you to smile. I just- I just want you to be happy. Are you happy Paige?”

“I’m getting married today,” Paige says in lieu of an answer and she can hear Azzi’s breath hitch. 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is. It’s a yes or no question,” Azzi presses.

“Then you answer it Azzi,” Paige bites out, “are you happy?”

“I”m-,” the younger girl lets out a sigh, “I’m content.”

Her answer makes Paige’s skin itch with irritation and she can’t stop it from seeping into her next question, “so you have no regrets then?”

“I didn’t say that,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s voice. 

“Do you or do you not regret saying no to marrying me Azzi?” Paige asks, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“Paige-”

“What? You gonna say it’s not that simple? It’s a yes or no question Azzi,” Paige mocks. 

“That’s not it-”

“Then what is?”

“You’re getting married Paige,” Azzi yells, “you’re getting married,” she repeats again, softer this time, “to someone else. And so it doesn’t matter how I feel. It isn’t fair of you to ask and it wouldn’t- it wouldn’t be fair of me to answer. Not today. Maybe one day- one day it'll be the right time but not today.”

“And what if it’s never the right time?” 

“Then maybe it’s a question you were never meant to know the answer to.”

There’s something final in the quietness that follows, like they’re having a moment of silence at a funeral for what never even got to be. 

It’s Azzi who speaks first. 

“You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.”

“You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.”

They let it left unsaid that they were supposed to be wives to each other, that they were supposed to be moms together. 

***

March 2033 

Paige doesn’t know how long she stands outside, staring down the winding road that had taken Stephie and Azzi away from her. The neighborhood is slowly waking up and if the woman across the street opens her curtains and thinks it’s a little strange that her new neighbor is standing like a statue on her front porch, she only raises a slight eyebrow before going back to her day. It takes almost twenty minutes before her head finally convinces her heart that no matter how much she stands outside, they’re not coming back. 

There’s a part of her that can admit that maybe Azzi had a point and maybe she shouldn’t have asked her to stay over last night. But Paige has never been known for her common sense, especially not when it comes to Azzi. Because truth be told, asking Azzi to stay the night was perhaps the least ridiculous of the thoughts that had invaded her mind last night. It was easy- too easy- to fall right back into whatever with Azzi. She’d done a good job pretending that the nightly facetime calls had been for Stephie’s benefit but the truth is that they had become just as much a necessity for Paige. She’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face every night and the temptation to have that in person last night had been too hard to resist. And so she hadn’t. 

She makes it about three steps up the stairs, when the fort still set up in the living room catches her eye. And that’s when the first tear falls, and then the second and then the third until she thinks if she tried to swim in them, she’d probably drown. Paige abandons the idea of going up to her room and crawls back into the tent made of blankets. And she must be going insane because she swears she can still smell the faint scent of a toddler and Azzi’s lavender perfume on the pillow she cradles to her chest. It’s ridiculous to be so attached already. She knows that. Stephie isn’t hers but it feels like the little girl has crept underneath her skin, burrowing herself in a part of Paige’s heart that the blond didn’t even know was there. And Azzi- well no matter how long it’s been, no matter how much resentment Paige has held, the truth is that there’s a little patch of Paige’s soul  that will always belong to the younger woman. 

Paige barely registers herself falling asleep until there’s abrupt knocking on her door and she realizes she’s been cocooned in the fort for almost three hours. She hesitantly lets go of the pillow, groggily walking towards the door. It’s useless to pretend that she isn’t hoping it’s Azzi and Stephie on the other side, isn’t hoping that Azzi had realized her mistake, isn’t hoping to scoop both of them into her arms and fill the hollowness that’s been thrumming against her ribcage. God Paige has barely survived a month -a day if she’s completely honest- she doesn’t know how she’s going to survive this whole season. 

She crosses her fingers behind her back as she opens the door. 

“Hey,” Katie’s smiling face looks back at her, holding up a tray of coffee and a bag of something, “figured you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

Paige blinks stupidly as Katie lets herself in, moving through Paige’s house with ease and immediately locating the kitchen. She hands Paige a cup of coffee before ransacking through the bag and pulling out a glazed donut, “eat. I know you haven’t.”

“Does Azzi know you’re here?” Paige asks slowly before taking a bite out of her donut. 

Katie gives her pointed look, “who do you think gave me your address?”

“Is she- is she okay?” 

“You two are something you know,” Katie shakes her head, “you’re asking me if she’s okay and she sent me over here to make sure that you were okay.”

Paige feels her heart swell with after all this time, “she sent you?”

“I have breakfast with Azzi and Stephie every Sunday morning. Now imagine my surprise when I get there today and my oh so sweet and wonderful granddaughter isn’t talking to her mother. And so I forced the story out of Azzi and I barely understood a word she was saying through her tears-”

“She was crying?” Paige feels her lungs constrict. 

Katie shoots her an unimpressed look, “can I finish the story?”

“I don’t like this story. It has Azzi crying.”

“Yeah well the two of you seem to enjoy doing that to each other,” Katie cocks an unamused eyebrow and Paige flinches at the truth of it, “anyways I didn’t understand much of it but she was clear by the end. Seemed to think you needed someone, needed me and so here I am Paige.”

“Why is your daughter like this?” Paige demands, “how is she gonna make me cry and then send somebody else to wipe my tears.”

“Well I can leave-”

“Why couldn’t she just have stayed?” the blonde questions, “why does she always have to overthink things and make it more complicated? Why can’t she just listen to her heart once in her fucking life? Why can’t she just let herself live? Why is it always no with her and never just yes?”

Katie gives Paige a sad smile, reaching for her hand, “that’s why.”

“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child.

“Why is it always no with her and never yes?” Katie repeats, “c’mon Paige you know that’s not about last night.”

“It is,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“It’s not,” Katie says, gently squeezing Paige’s hand, “it’s about her saying no 8 years ago.”

“I’m ov-” Paige stops, withering under Katie’s glare, “okay maybe it’s a little bit about her saying no 8 years ago. But I’m allowed to still be upset about it. She broke my heart. I wanted forever and she walked away. I’m allowed to be mad about that.”

“Of course you’re allowed to be mad Paige but that’s exactly why Azzi had to go this morning. And it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have asked her to stay last night. You guys can’t just pretend none of it happened because it did. You’re still hurt Paige and ignoring that is gonna get you guys nowhere. Especially with Stephie involved.”

“So what are you saying? You’re saying me and Azzi should just be teammates? You’re saying I should just never see Stephie again,” even the thought of it makes Paige feel like she is laying down on a bed of thorns. 

“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes, “I’m not saying any of that. I’m saying maybe you just need to take it slower, with both of them, instead of having a goddamn sleepover the literal first night you’re in the same city. Besides,” Katie gives her a knowing smirk, “my granddaughter is obsessed with her Miss Buecks. Pretty sure she’d find a way to see you again no matter what.”

“Good,” Paige lets out her first smile of the day, “because I’d find a way to see her again too. She just- she’s kinda great isn’t she? Azzi did a good job with that one. She’s- she’s perfect,” she looks at Katie who’s regarding Paige with a thoughtful expression, “what? Do I have donut glaze on my face?”

“No, no it just- I’ve seen that expression before.”

“What expression?”

“The one you just had on your face while talking about Stephie,” Katie laughs to herself, “it’s the same one Tim had when he first met Azzi.”

***

“Oh my god. It’s Paige Bueckers. Can I have your autograph?” Steph Curry winks at Paige as she walks into his office. The Golden State legend had started an after-school basketball camp for kids in the Bay Area and as soon as he’d heard the news of Paige coming over to the Valkyries, he’d messaged her if she’d be interested in helping him out in the off-season. Paige had been more than willing to be a part of it, always invested in giving back to her community. If she’d been excited by the idea before though, today, after the worst sleep of her night as she tossed and turned to the hopeless depression of not having spoken to Stephie and Azzi for far too long, Paige really needed this distraction. 

“Don’t think you can afford my autograph,” Paige smirks lazily as she basically droops into the seat opposite him. 

Steph laughs goodnaturedly, “welcome to the Bay Area kid.”

“I’m a little old to be called a kid don’t you think? I’m nearly 25,” Paige grins, wiggling her eyebrows.. 

Steph shakes his head, “nah you’re always gonna be a kid to me. You and Azzi both,” he chuckles to himself, “even though Azzi’s got her own kid now. Have you met her?”

Well that distraction lasted 30 seconds, Paige thinks to herself as she forces a smile onto her face, “yeah. I’ve seen her around.”

“She’s cute as hell right? And she knows it. Little miss bossy pants has everyone wrapped around her fingers. Kinda reminds me of Riley,” there’s a goofy expression as Steph thinks of his daughter and Paige wonders if the same one is reflected on her face as she thinks about Stephie, “and she’s a natural at basketball. Only five and her shot’s already pretty good. You’ll see it today when she comes to camp. And she’s pretty good at defense-”

“I’m sorry what?” Paige blinks rapidly. 

“I know. What defense can a 5 year old play but it’s just the way she moves you know?” Steph tries to explain and Paige shakes her head. 

“Not that. Stephie- Stephie’s coming to camp?”

Steph grins large and proud, “of course she is. She was the first camper I signed.”

“Right,” Paige nods, giving the man in front of her a tight smile, “can you- can you excuse me for one second.”

As soon as Paige is outside of Steph’s earshot, she’s calling Katie; Katie who had sat at her kitchen counter yesterday and listened with a smile as Paige told her all about Steph’s camp. Katie who hadn’t said one word about Stephie being a part of said camp. Katie who was maybe grinning just a little too hard at the idea. 

“Did you know Stephie goes to Curry Camp?” Paige asks as soon as the line connects. 

“Hi Katie. Hi Paige. How was your day? Oh mine was good Paige, thanks for asking, how was yours?” Katie replies sarcastically. 

“Katie,” Paige groans. 

“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?” Katie says slowly and Paige can tell she’s holding back a laugh, “nope, didn’t have a clue. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?”

“What happened to telling me to take things slow?” Paige hisses. 

“Well if I left the two of you two to your own devices y’all wouldn’t go slow, you wouldn’t even move at all,” Katie defends. 

“So you’re meddling?”

“I am not,” Katie protests, “you were always gonna help with the camp and Stephie’s already been going to the camp. I just didn’t let you stress out about it. Really you should be thanking me.”

“Thank you Katie,” Paige bites out mockingly. 

“You’re so very welcome Paige,” Katie sing-songs, “by the way, come over for dinner soon okay sweetheart. Love you honey. See you later darling.”

She hangs up before Paige can say anything and the blonde saunters back into Steph’s office, trying to corral her facial expression into something more neutral. 

“All good?” Steph asks. 

“Just peachy,” Paige hums in response, “we gonna head over to the court soon? It’s almost 4.”

Steph nods, “yeah they’ll be done setting up for us. Azzi usually brings Stephie to say hi to me right before cause no favoritism in front of the other kids you know? But maybe she’s running la- oh no wait there they are!”

Paige freezes, heartbeat erratic, as Steph walks to the door in anticipation. 

“UNCLE TWIN,” Stephie screams and something in Paige’s heart starts to fix itself at the sound of the younger girl’s voice. She’s scared to turn around, unsure if she’s more scared to realize it’s a dream or find out that it’s reality. 

“TWIN NIECE,” Steph yells back with equal vigor and Paige can hear Azzi’s laugh now too, each giggle acting like a needle, stitching up the parts of Paige that had felt broken since yesterday morning. She turns around deliberately slowly. Stephie is cradled in Steph’s arms and Azzi’s watching them with a fond smile. And it’s ridiculous to be jealous of a happily married man who’s practically Azzi’s brother if not her uncle, but the sense of that should be me, weighs heavily on Paige’s lungs anyways. 

It’s Azzi who sees her first, smile slowly fading as dark brown eyes clash with light blue ones. 

“Paige,” she whispers softly and there’s a multitude of undecipherable emotions wrapped in that one syllable and Paige thinks she could spend forever just trying to uncover them. 

Stephie’s ear perks up at the mention of Paige’s name as her own little eyes finally land on the blonde, shuffling her feet nervously in the corner. Her bottom lip trembles, eyes watering as she forces herself down from Steph’s lap, racing to Paige. It’s instinct the way Paige falls to her knees, ready to catch the bundle of limps that practically falls into her waiting arms. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers, “I missed you so much.”

Paige’s own eyes water as she buries her face in Stephie’s hair, “me too sweetheart. I missed you so, so, so much.”

In front of them, Steph looks beyond confused as to what's happening and Azzi’s determinedly looking away, even if there’s a lone tear waterfalling down her left cheek. 

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Stephie confesses, voice choked up as she tightens her grip on Paige’s neck, “and I begged and I begged Mama to let me call you but she said you were busy. And then I yelled at Mama and it made Mama cry too and I hate making Mama cry.”

“I know. I know sweetheart,” Paige soothes softly, running her hands down Stephie’s back as the little girl continues to babble. They stay like that for a long time and Paige thinks if she could ask the world for one thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’d ask for Stephie. 

Finally Steph coughs, looking apprehensively between the three girls in the room, “so um- I take it you’ve more than just seen Stephie around then Paige?”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, finally letting Stephie go and turning around but still keeping a hand on Stephie’s shoulder, “yeah I guess that’s true.”

“What are you doing here Miss Buecks,” Stephie asks, looking up at Paige. 

“I’m uh- well Mr. Steph-”

“Uncle Twin,” Stephie corrects immediately and Paige can’t help but grin at the nickname. 

“Right. Uncle Twin asked me to be a coach at his camp and I agreed,” Paige explains, trying to catch Azzi’s eyes but the shooting guard seems determined to focus on a picture of Steph and Ayesha on the wall instead. 

“You’re gonna be my coach,” Stephie squeals, turning around to hug Paige’s knees, “this is the best news of my life.”

Paige feels her heart soar into a sky of you’re the best new of my life Stephie as she bends down to kiss Stephie forehead, “let’s see if you say that when I make you run laps after you miss a shot.”

“You wouldn’t?” Stephie says, looking horrified at the idea. 

“I totally would,” Paige teases. 

Stephie is quiet for a second before a proud smirk blooms on her lips, “that’s okay ‘cause I don’t miss. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter. Right Mama?”

“Right baby,” Azzi says, finally letting herself meet Paige’s gaze. 

“Well Miss-I-Don’t-Miss, how about you walk over to the court and show us how you don’t miss,” Steph teases. 

Stephie waddles out of Paige’s grip and holds her arms up at Steph, a saccharine smile on her face,“I can’t be tired if I don’t wanna miss Uncle Twin, so can you please carry me over there?”

Steph rolls his eyes but it doesn’t stop him from hoisting Stephie onto his shoulders, “alright your highness, let’s go.”

Stephie’s giggles echoe down the hall as Steph runs towards the courts and Paige can’t help the fond laugh that escapes her. 

“She gets that from you, you know,” Paige says softly to Azzi. 

“Gets what?”

“Being a princess who gets everything she wants.”

“Not everything,” Azzi says wistfully, “not everything I want.”

She moves to start following but Paige wraps a hand around her wrist, “I didn’t know Stephie was a part of Curry Camp. I swear I- I didn’t do this on purpose.”

Azzi sighs, “I know. I know you wouldn’t Paige.”

“And I- I wanted to thank you for sending your Mom yesterday. I really- I really did need it even if I didn’t know it,” Paige’s thumb subconsciously rubs against Azzi’s skin, “but you- you always seem to know what I need.”

Azzi rips her hand out from Paige's grip, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are. You keep saying things like that- things you shouldn’t say- things I can’t just listen to and be okay,” Azzi brushes her hand against her face, “I know the way I left yesterday was wrong and maybe I was projecting,” she admits in a whisper, “but you just- you make me feel too fucking much. And it's too quick and it’s scares me.”

“Scares you?” Paige scoffs, “I’m not the one who broke your heart Azzi.”

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’ve lived with that guilt for the last 8 years? Jesus fucking christ Paige. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of me,” tears stream down Azzi’s face as she paces the room, “I have never heard Stephie cry so fucking much in my life Paige. And you know who did that to her? Me, I did that. Apparently I’m really fucking good at making people cry but I don’t want to. I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to break your heart and I don’t want to break my own heart. Not again.”

“Azzi-”

“And so I’m stopping it before it happens. Before I ruin it again.”

Azzi tries to leave again but Paige is faster, wrapping her arms around the younger woman’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest so she can’t escape. It’s a terrible idea because now all of her senses are consumed by Azzi as they both become acutely aware of how close they are now. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers weakly, one hand pressed right against Paige’s heart, “let me go.”

“I think today’s the right time,” Paige says softly, hands grazing Azzi’s waist, “I asked you a question once and you said one day, when the time was right, you’d give me an answer. It’s the right time.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Azzi please,” Paige begs, “do you regret saying no?”

“Paige let me go,” Azzi wriggles against her grip but it only makes Paige tighten her hold. 

“It’s a simple yes or no question.’

“Stephie’s probably wondering where we are-”

“Then answer the damn question and we can go to her-”

“Paige please.”

“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”

“What do you want me to say?” Azzi bursts out finally, “you want me to say that I’ve never regretted anything more in my life? You want me to say the minute I said no, I wanted to rip out my tongue? You want me to say that I almost called you several times in the last decade to tell you how stupid I was? You want me to say that I flew to Dallas once to tell you that I fucked up but then I saw you with Olivia and decided you deserved better than me-”

“What?”  Paige feels the air being snatched from her lungs. 

“The answer to your stupid fucking question,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “is yes. Yes I regret saying no to you Paige. But it doesn’t matter. Because I said no and you found someone else who’d say yes and now it’s too late.”

And Paige thinks that Katie was probably right, that she should probably take things slow. But when it comes to Azzi Fudd, Paige Bueckers has never been one to do what she should. 

“It’s never too late for us,” Paige whispers before crashing her lips against the woman, who’s always been the reason for her biggest, brightest, most real smile.

[samandcolbyownme]

PART ONE

Summary: Anon request - "omg wait. request idea for sam and colby as ghostface smut :0 like billy loomis and stu macher OG ghostface"

Warnings: This one shot will contain smut and gore. There will be talk of death, murder, suicide, and blood, along with forceful acts such as choking, gagging, hair pulling, stabbing, and other malicious acts. The smut parts of this will contain, semi forceful actions, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, choking, knife play, oral (both), double penetration, dirty talk, and f i l t h

Disclaimer: I'm putting my own twist on this. There will be references from the original Scream, but I am going to make it a tad more modern and my own and make it so instead of SnC wanting to kill y/n, they're going after a specific group of people from one particular event that involved y/n and of course, wanting y/n all to themselves.

Side note: Italics are when Sam and/or Colby are in ghostface mode.

Word count: 25.9K but I had to break it into two parts due to tumblr's character limit. The link to part two will be at the end of this.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"You call, Sam." Colby says pushing the phone into his chest, "I need to make this little bitch suffer for what he did to her."

"We gotta keep it clean, Colby." Sam looks up at him, "I'm just as pissed about this as you are, but more or less, we can't afford to get caught."

Colby scoffs, "You're going to sit there and tell me that you don't want to rip his guts out for forcing y/n into something she obviously didn't want to do?"

You unknowingly, and drunkenly told Sam and Colby about what happened at the party you went to without them. You told them about  Levi McCallum forced himself onto you while his two other friends and Nina, his girlfriend watched, and that didn't sit right with either of them.

No one gets to hurt their girl and have zero consequence.

Over the last month, Sam and Colby have been plotting, in secret. Trying to find out just what to do exactly, which didn't take them long at all, and tonight, Nina and Levi are first to be crossed off the list.

Sam's anger boils as he thinks about what you went through, quickly turning infuriated, "Fuck them. They need to die."

"There we go." Colby grips Sam's shoulder, shaking him gently, "We're doing this for her."

"For her." Sam takes a deep breath and looks over at an older car coming up the long dirt road, "There he is. Good luck, brother."

Colby slips his gloves on, getting out as he grabs his mask from the dash, "Good luck, brother."

Colby disappears into the woods as Sam pulls out the burner, dialing the number to Nina's house. He listens to it ring before pulling the voice changer up to his lips as Nina answers with a mellow, "Hello?"

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" Sam asks in the raspy changed voice.

"Who is this?" Nina asks confused.

"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." Sam rests his head back against the seat of the car as she declines, "um, I don't think so."

Sam hears her shaking something in the background, "What is that? That noise you're making."

"Popcorn." She says with a slight laugh and Sam rolls his eyes, "I only eat popcorn at the movies."

"I actually am going to put a movie on, my boyfriend.." she emphasizes, "Is coming over to watch it with me."

"You like scary movies? What's your favorite?"  Sam asks, trying to buy Colby more time to get Levi restrained.

"Oh, um, I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it." She sighs, "Probably Halloween? Maybe. The one with the guy in the white mask that kills the babysitters on Halloween."

"Uh huh." Sam nods to himself, looking around as he quietly gathers his tools.

"What's yours?"  She asks, surprising Sam by keeping the conversation going.

"Guess."

"Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Didn't that guy have knives for fingers? Freddy Krueger?"

Sam knows all about horror movies, as does Colby, thanks to you. You're always making them watch a different movie or series, especially around Halloween time.

"Yeah, him. The first one was alright, but the rest just absolutely sucked." She clicks the lock and Sam sits up slightly.

"So you said boyfriend, is it anything serious?"

"Why?" She laughs with a flirty tone, "You want to take me out on a date?" 

He rolls his eyes, "Maybe. All you gotta do is tell me your name."

"Why do you want to know my name?" She giggles and Sam's demeanor darkens, his anger taking over, "Cause I wanna know who I'm looking at."

She goes quiet, the tone in her voice drops to scared, "W-What did you just say?"

"Because I want to know who I'm talking to."

"That's not.. that's not what you said." Nina goes around looking out the windows and Sam squeezes the phone, "What did you think I said, then?"

She flicks the back light on, catching Sam's attention, "What?"

She doesn't say anything, so he asks again, "Hello?"

"I-I.. look.. I gotta go."  Nina flicks the light off and Sam quietly gets ready to get out, "Wait, no. I thought you said we were going to go out."

"Nah, I don't think I want to. Creep." She hangs up as Sam tells her not to hang up. The call ends and he gets out, quickly disappearing into the woods to make his way up to the house.

He sees Colby holding onto Levi with a knife pressed against his throat. Sam slips his mask on, bringing the phone back up to his ear and slipping the voice changer into his mask, calling Nina again.

He watches her through the window, seeing her stop as she stares at the phone before answering, "What the fuck do you want?"

"I told you not to hang up on me."

"What do you want, then? Huh?" She asks slightly frantic, "Huh?"

"I told you. I just want to talk."

"About what? What could you possibly want to talk to me about?" Nina runs a hand over her face, on the verge of tears.

"About what happened at that party two months ago."

"Call someone else. I'm done." She hangs up and that's when Sam moves up to help get Levi in the pool chair, duct taping his hands behind his back.

His yelling is muffled through the several pieces of tape keeping his mouth closed.

Colby grips his throat, squeezing until his eyes roll back and he's not making any noise. Sam taps Colby, indicating to let him go, that he needs to be alive for Nina to see him die.

Sam makes his way around the house, quietly getting in through the one window she didn't have locked before calling again.

"Listen asshole." Nina screams into the phone and Sam cuts her off, anger dripping from his words, "You listen to me you little bitch, you hang up on me again and I swear to god I'll gut you like a fish."

She doesn't say anything and the feeling of power takes over Sam, chuckling slightly, "Yeah."

"Is this a joke?" She whimpers out.

"More of a lesson about karma, really." He pauses as he hears her moving slowly, "Can you handle getting your karma for what you did, blondie?"

"What did I do?" She asks, trying to sound innocent and Sam just laughs, "More or less of what you and that sleezeball boyfriend of yours did."

Nina takes off running, locking all the doors she can get to. She looks out the window of the front door and puts the phone back up to her ear.

"Can you see me, Nina?"

She's breathing heavy, crying, "I'm going to call the fucking cops. This isn't fucking funny anymore."

"They'd never make it in time, look at where we're at. We're in the middle of no where." Sam moves to another room and she pleads, "Just tell me what you want, fuck. I'll do anything, please."

"I already told you, you need your karma. But I also kinda want to see what your insides look like." A sinister smiles grows behind Sam's mask as he listens to Nina sob and hang up.

Colby quickly walks around to the front, ringing the door bell a few times before running off. Nina screams, "Who's there? Fuck, I'm calling the cops, I'm not do-"

The phone rings as she picks it up, and she screams, crying as she brings to her ear.

"Don't you know not to ask who's there, fuck. You should know all about that from the movies you watch. Asking who's there is a death wish, and I'm feeling generous enough to grant it for you."

"Look.." she gasps for air, "You've had your fun now so I think.. you better just leave me... the fuck alone or else I-"

"Or else what?" Sam taunts, "What could you possibly do to outsmart me? Hmm?"

"My boyfriend will be here any fucking minute and he'll find you, and rip you apart for messing with me." She screams into the phone and Sam laughs, "Your boyfriend is a pussy, Nina. He'd do anything to save himself before you, now why don't you just walk on over to the back, look out at the pool."

"Fuck you. Fuck you."

"His name wouldn't happen to be Levi.. would it?"

She gasps, "How do you know his name?"

"Go to the doors, like I said, and turn on the fucking lights.. again."

Sam makes his way downstairs, knowing that she is focused on a bloody and beat up Levi. Still on the phone, he hears her sob, "Oh god, no. No. No. Levi!" She scratches at the door to unlock it frantically but Sam on the phone makes her stop, "I don't recommend doing that."

"Where the fuck are you?" She pounds on the glass of the window, "Where the fuck are you?"

"Guess. I could be anywhere."

"Please don't hurt him." She pleads, "I love him."

"Really? You love someone who goes around, using girls for his own drunken pleasure at parties they should have even been at?"

"What are you ta-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about bitch." Sam growls, "Now, if you want him to live, play a game with me."

"What game?"  She whimpers and Sam chuckles, "Turn off the light." Levi screams behind the tape and Nina leans against the wall listening as she turns off the lights.

"What party were you at two months ago?"

She thinks for a moment, sniffling as she does, "I-I do-"

"Don't tell me you don't know because I know for a fact you know exactly what I'm talking about." Sam snaps, "if I have to ask again, your pussy of a boyfriend dies."

"A party. It was Xander's party." She sobs, "Please.. don't kill him."

"What happened at Xander's party, Nina?"

"I don't.. I really don't know.." she lies, pleading for Levi's life, "I don't know, asshole. Fucking kill me if you want, but leave Levi alone!"

Sam is quiet for a few seconds, "Wrong answer." Sam hangs up and Nina goes to the door, screaming as Colby plunges a knife into his abdomen, spilling his guts into his lap, leaving Levi dead where he sits right as she flicks the lights back on.

Colby vanishes, making his way back into the woods incase Sam needs backup.

"Hey." Sam says catching her attention to the phone again, "We're not done. I still have one final question."

"Go the fuck away. You already killed Levi, what more do you want from me!?"

"Which door am I at? You got a fifty fifty chance of picking the right one.." he pushes as he listens to her voice shake, "Unless I'm already in the house."

She drops the phone as Colby throws a chair through the window, making her take off into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the block. She backs up slowly, gasping as Sam crosses the hallway in a swift motion, making his way into the other room.

She slips out the patio doors, shaking as she looks back in to see Sam stalking around the house. She moves over, getting ready to take off until he busts through the door, tackling her to the ground.

She gets up fast, but so does Sam. He chases her across the yard, grabbing her to pull her back and he plunges his knife deep into her chest, twisting it before throwing her down on the grass.

She's gasping, hyperventilating as she runs her fingers over the stab wound, trying to plead for her life once more. Sam moves on top of her, pressing a hand to her throat so she doesn't make any noise.

She ends up kicking him, making him fall back as she desperately tries to crawl away. With his adrenaline pumping, he gets back up, crawling over and stopping her.

He rolls her back over. She tries to scream for help but her voice is a strangled whine, "H-he-hel- help."

Sam shakes his head, gripping her throat again as she reaches up and rips his mask off. He stares down at her, giving her a smirk before stabbing her again.

And again.

Sam smashes the phone and leaves to find Colby before a car comes in from the other direction.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It wasn't unusual for you to share a bed with Sam or Colby, you guys have been close for many, many years which developed into this relationship that made you not want to look for anyone else. You were content with them, so you didn't need or even want a boyfriend, it was like you had two.

But it wasn't official or anything.

What was unusual, was that you woke up to it just being you, "Sam?" You call out hoping for an answer, "Colby?"

You swing your legs over, standing up as you grab one of the sweatshirts that's on the floor, checking your phone to see a message from Sam, Drug Colby with me for a run. Be back soon.

You sigh, feeling relieved as you now know they aren't in any kind of trouble like they have been in before. In the middle of responding, you hear the door open and you quickly make your way down the steps.

"Good morning, gorgeous." Sam says winking at you. You smile, "How was the run?" You look at Colby and he shrugs, "it was actually very exhilarating, I think I'm going to start running with Sam more often."

"Wow." You raise your eyebrows, taking the coffee Sam hands you, "That's not like you at all."

Colby chuckles, "Yeah, well. It is now I guess. Gotta stay in shape so I can fight those demons all night long." He motions to his Currently Fighting Demons hoodie and you roll your eyes with a laugh, "You really are a walking advertisement."

Sam smirks at you, "I'm going to go up and shower, but after that want to go out to eat?" You nod, "Mm." You swallow your coffee, "Yes please, I'm starving."

Sam jogs up the steps and Colby walks over to you, "You doing okay?" You sip your coffee and look up at him, "I was just worried that you two got arrested again."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no. Just went for a run. We aren't going anywhere." He tucks hair behind your ear and quickly kisses your forehead, "I'm going to shower, too."

You smile turning as you go into the living room. Right as you sit down, your phone rings, "Hey, Soph."

"Are you home?" She asks, her voice shakey, "Y/n."

"Yes. Yes. We're all here, what's up? What's going on?" You sit up, "Sophie?" There's about knock on your door, "I'm here." She yells, still on the phone.

You get up, quickly walking over to unlock the door, "Hey, come in."

"Levi and Nina are dead."

Her words shock you, "I'm sorry." You laugh slightly, "what did you just say?"

She takes a deep breath, "Nina and Levi are dead. Y/n.  Gone."

"What the hell? When? How? Why?" You run a hand over your hair, kinda acting more sad about it than you actually were because Sophie doesn't know what happened to you, "What can I do?"

You walk over and hug her as she breaks down in your arms.

Sam and Colby slowly walk down the steps, giving you a confused look they point to her. You shake your head, giving them a frown, "Levi and Nina are dead."

Your voice is quiet as you wipe the tears from her eyes, "I'm so sorry, Soph."

"Nina was like a sister to me. I mean obviously you too.." she laughs nervously, "Fuck, you know what I mean."

"It's okay. I understand." You walk her to the couch and sit down with her, her head laying in your lap as she starts sobbing again, "Who.. would do t-this?"

"I don't know, honey. But they'll find them. I'm sure.." You rub her back, unsure of what else to say.

You hated them with your full being, yes, but you never wanted them to die or anything.

"What happened?" Sam asks walking over and Sophie snaps her head up, "Two of my friends were killed, she just told you, what don't you understand?"

Sam clenches his jaw and Colby walks up, "Whoa. Hey. He just asked what happened."

Sophie rolls her eyes, "Do I need to reword it for you? Nina and Levi were killed. Gutted. I don't u-"

"Okay." You say loudly, cutting her off, "You just need to calm down, for one, and two.. They didn't do anything wrong, just asked what happened and you're snapping their heads off for no reason."

Sophie breaks down again, falling into your lap as she whimpers, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry."

Sam and Colby's eyes are on you. The way you stand up for them without any hesitation, no matter who it is, is one of the things they love about you.

They both knew that if you found out, you die for them before they got caught. 

And they were right.

"Exactly." Colby motions to you and sighs as he walks back upstairs. Sam shakes his head, "I'll leave you guys to it, then." He follows Colby and Sophie sits up, "I didn't mean to yell at them."

You hug her head, "I know. It's okay. They know you're under a lot right now."

"I think.. I think I'm going to go down to the police station, to see if I can get any information," she sniffles and looks at you, "Will you come with me?"

"Why don't you come to lunch with us, then we can go? We can talk about everything." You brush her hair from her face and she shakes her head, "i have to go see Eli."

"Eli? As in-"

She cuts you off, "Levi's best friend, yeah. That's who I've been seeing."

You raise your eyebrows, trying not to let your anger answer for you, because as said, she doesn't know he was there that night too, "Is it going good?"

"It was until last night. He won't answer my calls now, so.." she sniffles and stands up, "I'll call you later." You walk after her, "I can drive you if-"

"No. I just need a minute.. to think... about all of this." She lays her head on her hands, sobbing before quickly pulling it together. She walks over, hugging you tight, "I'm so scared."

You wrap your arms around her, "I know. I know. I am too." You rub her back, "They'll figure it out. I promise." She leans back, wiping her face before turning away, "I'll call you then."

"Just come over tonight. Stay here so I know you're safe too." You walk over to the door and she spins around, nodding, "O-okay."

You nod, giving her a small smile, "Okay." You watch as she makes her way to her car and you shut the door, Sam and Colby standing quietly behind you, "Jesus Christ."

You jump and lay a hand on your chest, "I need to put a bell on both of you."

They both laugh and Colby points to the door, "is she okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, she didn't mean to snap on you. It's all still so fresh, I can't imagine what she's going through."

"Did you hate Nina?" Sam asks raising his eyebrow. You nod, "And Levi, but that didn't mean I wanted them to be murdered or anything."

"Yeah, no right. I don't think anyone wishes for just anyone to die." Colby nods, "Did she tell you what happened exactly?"

You pull your phone out, "I can find out. I'm sure the news is alre-" your mouth drops slightly and your hand goes over your mouth as you read the gruesome description of how they were found.

"What, y/n?" Sam asks as he moves over to you, looking down at your phone, "Oh shit."

"Worse than Sophie said it was?" Colby walks over, looking over your shoulder, "Oh.. fuck."

"They said Levi was found out by their pool, taped to a chair and he was.." you cringe, "Literally gutted.." you rest your phone down by your side, "Nina was found the same way just outside in the yard.."

You close your eyes, shaking your head, "I can't imagine what her mom must of felt. She's the one who found them."

"Who ever did that obviously had a resentment towards them.." Colby glances at Sam, "Apparently."

Sam fights off his smirk and wraps his arm around you, "Are you okay?" You nod, "Yeah.. I mean, they bullied the hell out of me, but at the same time.." you take a deep breath, "Karma is a bitch.. I just didn't think of it being this big of one. I'm honestly kind of scared, like there's a killer on the loose and no one knows anything about it."

"It'll be okay." Colby wraps his arm around your shoulders, gripping Sam's hoodie, "you know we won't let anything happen to you."

You didn't remember that they knew about what happened at the party, and they wanted to keep it that way.

"If you don't want to go out, we can just stay here." Sam whispers, "Whatever you want to do."

You sigh, "I really want a wrap from Bardoe's." You laugh slightly and Sam smiles, "then we'll go to Bardoe's."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Hey, y/n."

You set your food down, looking up as your friend, Noel, comes over, "How's Sophie?" She sits down across from you.

You shrug, "As bad as you'd think."

"She about bit my head off when I asked what was happening.," Sam says taking a sip of his drink. You nod, "Yeah, she stopped by before we came here, but she said she had to go see Eli."

She leans back, "Did you just say Eli?"

You nod, "I know, I had the same reaction you did." You laugh slightly, "I mean, to each their own. Her type is just assholes, apparently."

She raises her eyebrows and Henry, Noel's boyfriend comes over and sits down, "Colby. Sam." He nods to them and they nod back. He looks at you, "Y/n."

Henry stopped everything that night and you made him promise not to say a word to anyone, but Sam and Colby already know that, too.

So he's safe.

"How you doing?" He asks and you shrug, "I'm fine, worried about Soph." He nods, "Yeah, her and Eli are taking it pretty hard."

You nod, "I seen her this morning, she said she was going to the police station to ask questions, but I'm sure she'll only find out what they want them to."

You lean back, resting your head on Colby's arm that's extended over the top of the booth.

"How do you even gut someone like that?" Noel asks as she takes some of your fries, "Honestly. It's overkill if you ask me."

Colby shrugs, "The only way I can imagine, is that they took a knife or something sharp, then cut them from groin to sternum.."

Sam looks at Colby, "Hey. It's called tact, fucking idiot."

Colby holds his hand up, "I'm just saying that it would be an awful way to die." You stare at the table, nodding as you think about the pain they endured.

You hated it, but that little sick and twisted part inside of you liked it. You liked that they endured more pain than they had caused you, but you still felt bad.

"I heard they found her liver in the mailbox, how sick is that?" Henry says changing the subject, "Next to her spleen or some other organ."

"Oh that's so gross, I'm trying to eat y/n's fries, Henry. Stop it." Noel groans and pushes him. Colby smirks, "Yeah Henry, liver alone." He laughs and you look over at him, trying not to laugh.

Sam reaches behind you, smacking Colby's shoulder, "Dude."

"What? It's a joke, let her, liver? Liv-er alone?" He laughs with Henry and you just shake your head.

"Henry. Did you used to date Noel?" Colby points towards him. Noel looks at Henry and he laughs, "Yeah, until I found out just how psycho she was."

"What do you mean?" You look up at him.

He shrugs, "She was just nuts. I couldn't talk to anyone because I was-" he puts air quotes, "Cheating."

"Were you?" Noel looks at him and he looks at her, "Not at all." He looks at Sam, "Didn't you know Levi?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not like you'd think. I played basketball with him, but he was always a preppy everyone needs to love me kinda person and I couldn't be around that."

Henry raises his eyebrows and Sam tilts his head, "What? You think I did it?" He leans forward, resting his hands on the table, "I didn't kill anybody."

"No body said you did." Colby stares at Sam and he tilts his head smiling at Colby, "Aw, thanks buddy."

You rest your hand on his arms "Sam, that's not what he's saying. We all know you didn't. You have no reason to."

Noel laughs, "Yeah Sam, just because you and Colby hunt ghosts, that doesn't mean you could pull something like this off."

Henry laughs, "Right. That's how I know it wasn't you."

You can tell Colby is getting pissed because Henry just basically accused him of killing people, and honestly you were, too.

"Alright, I think it's time we leave. Yeah?" You look at Noel, "You should come over later. Soph is going to be there."

She nods, "I'll call you then." She stands up, pulling Henry up with her, quietly yelling at him about saying what he did to Sam.

You turn to Sam, "Are you okay?"

He nods and looks over at you, "Do you think I did it?" You shake your head, "As I said, you'd have no reason to." He takes a deep breath, "If he starts saying shit like that, I'll be the one they throw behind bars."

"I won't let that happen." You and Colby say in unison, causing Sam to smile. You smile and lean in, "I promise, I won't let anything happen to you." You lean over to Colby, "Or you." You sit straight, "Because I like whatever this is."

"We like it too." Sam pulls you in, kissing your head as he stares at Colby, "Let's get out of here."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Hello?" You say as you pick up your phone.

"Hello, is this y/n?" A man on the other end of the phone asks. You sit up, "May I ask who's calling?"

The man on the phone chuckles softly, "Right, yes. My name is Officer Tylers. I'm calling to see if you'd come down to the station to answer some questions for us."

"About the murders?" You pinch the bridge of your nose and he sighs, "Yes. So if you could, the sooner the better, but no rush. I know this is a-"

You cut him off, "I'll be right there,"

"Great. Thank you."

You hang up and sigh before yelling, "Colby." He jogs down the steps, "What's up, babe?" You smiles slightly and stand up, "I just got off the phone with an Officer Tylers. They want me to come down and answer some questions."

He raises his eyebrows, "Really?"

You shrug, "I don't know why.. I just.." you sit back down and Colby walks over, sitting next to you, "Hey. You'll be okay. They probably are just doing a routine questioning to everyone she went to school with. I'm sure Sam and I are next to be questioned."

You laugh slightly, "Might as well just come with me." You look around, "Where's Sam?"

"He went to meet the guy to talk about our next investigation." He tucks hair behind your ear, "You're so pretty."

You smile and tilt your head, "Why didn't you go with him?" He smiles, "I figured you didn't want to be left alone."

You nod, "Yeah, you're right. I just have to text Soph and Noel to let them know i won't be here for a little bit."

"I'll text Sam, let him know that we're going to the station." Colby takes his phone out, tapping his screen quickly. You text Sophie and Noel, letting them know exactly what's going on.

"I told them the key is under the mat if they get here before we get back." You look up at Colby, "Is that okay?"

He looks up and nods, "Yeah that's fine. Are you ready?" You nod and stand up, "What did Sam say?" Colby shakes his head as he slides his phone back into his pocket, "Just said to be careful."

"He doesn't have to worry about that." You laugh and grab Colby's keys, handing them to him, "Here ya go." He takes them from you and pulls you into him, "Everything is going to be okay."

You smile, "Thank you for being so calm through all of this, I'm actually freaking out on the inside." He chuckles, "I know. I think you're forgetting I can read you like a book, y/n."

You lick your lips, looking up at him. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours as he pulls your body closer.

The door opens and Sam walks through, stopping when he sees you and Colby, "Whoa, whoa." He laughs and walks over, wrapping his arm around your waist, "Excuse me."

You laugh slightly and look up at him, "I thought you were meeting with that guy?" He nods, "Yeah, it was an easy meet up, he wants us to investigate there, so he was excited."

"So it's set then?" Colby asks and Sam nods, "It's set."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Wish me luck." You mumble before reaching for the door handle. Sam and Colby both wish you luck and you get out, taking a deep breath before crossing the street.

"Hi, how can I help you?" The lady behind the glass asks and you rest your hands on the counter, "I got a um.. call from an Officer Richards. He told me to come down to answer some questions."

She nods, "Y/n y/l/n right?"

You nod, "Yep. That's me."

"You can have a seat right over there, I'll let him know you're here." You mumble a quiet, "thank you," before walking over to the chair and sitting down.

Not even a minute later, a tall man dressed in a police uniform walks over to you, "Y/n?"

You look up at him, immediately pissed, "Yes." You stand up and shake his hand, "Been a while.. You can come with me this way." You follow him through the barracks and into a room with only a table and four chairs.

"Have a seat. Do you need anything? Want anything? Water, coffee?"

You look up at him from the chair and shake your head, "No, thank you. I'm good."

"Alright, we'll just jump right into this then." He sits across from you after closing the door, "Did you know Nina and Levi?"

"Why are you questioning me? Isn't that conflict of interest or whatever?" You cross your arms over your chest and he shakes his head, "Not technically family, so no. Anyway, did you know Nina and Levi?"

You tilt your head, "I did, but I wasn't really liked by them."

"Can you elaborate on that for me, please? What do you mean exactly? Why didn't they like you?" He scribbles down notes on the notepad.

"I'm friends with Sophie Frank, and she's friends- or was friends.. with Nina, and Sophie and I are so different, I think she thought I ruined the popular girl image, and eventually just pushed me out." You explain, "And Levi, well he was the quarterback of the football team and got a college scholarship, so he was Mr. Popularity."

"Were you jealous of that?"

You laugh slightly, "Excuse me?"

He holds his hand up, "I know that sounds bad, but it's just routine or whatever you want to call it. Let me reword it.." he thinks for a moment and looks back up at you, "Were you jealous that Sophie was friends with her? How did her pushing you out make you feel?"

"I mean I didn't really like it, so I just stopped hanging around Sophie when I knew there was a chance Nina would be there, but I didn't want her to die if that's what you're getting at." You stare at him and he nods as he scribbles some more, "I liked Nina, we were friends before high school, but high school really changes a person I guess."

"Did it change you?" He asks right away, "I mean, you didn't go to college, correct?"

You shake your head, "No, but what-"

"You're living with two guys who do videos, both are handsome looking dudes, you didn't feel.. I don't know.. threatened by Nina in anyway?"

You scoff at his question, "No, Officer Tylers. I was not threatened by Nina."

"Where were you last night?" He leans back in his chair and you sigh, "I was home. Asleep by ten with Sam and Colby."

"They were there?" He tilts his head, "They didn't leave the house?"

You clench your jaw, sighing because you don't like to talk about your private business, especially with people like Officer Tylers, "They were in bed, with me, until about seven this morning. They went for a run."

"And that's normal? What time did they get back?"

"Yes." You sigh, "Sam is training for a marathon, and Colby likes working out." You shrug, "About eight thirty." You sigh, "Are we done? Can we be done please?"

"Almost." He holds up his finger and scribbles down more words, "Is ghost hunting all Sam and Colby do? Do you join them sometimes? I've never seen their videos beside so I don't really know."

"Besides doing photo shoots for their merch launches and making their own coffee, yeah. That's all they do."

He's quiet for a few moments before he looks up, "Don't leave town, stay in touch if you see anything, but yeah. Were done. For now." You stand up and he grabs your arm, "Just be careful, y/n. Your dad told me to look after you, and that's exactly what I'm trying to do."

You pull your arm away, "Well, you're not my dad so." You walk away and he stands up, watching as an officer leads you to the front of the building.

Officer Tylers, better known as Dave Tylers, was your dad's best friend and your dad told him, on his death bed, that he was to make sure you were okay.

You've always gotten weird vibes from him, even when you were younger, so you kept your distance.

You get into the car, plopping down with a sigh, "That was fucking pathetic."

"What happened?" Sam asks as they both turn around to face you. You shake your head, "We can talk about it at home. I need to make sure that fucker didn't bug me."

"Huh?" Sam whips back around as Colby drives off and you laugh slightly, "The officer that questioned me was.." you sigh, "He's who my dad asked to look after me. I just get a weird feeling with him, so I've kept my distance and he was like, asking me if I was at home in bed with you two last night. Like it was just weird."

Colby clenches his jaw, "You don't owe anyone an explanation about us."

"I know, Colby. I felt like I had to because of the way he was drilling me with question after question." You thud back against the seat, "I just don't understand who would want to actually go through and kill someone, let alone two people at once."

You rest your head back, thinking about the answers you gave Dave. Anxious because you lied, you guys were drinking and you got a little too wasted, passing out, so you weren't really sure if they went to bed when you did, but it doesn't matter because one, Dave didn't need to know that, and two, Sam and Colby aren't killers, they're ghost hunters.

"Did you guys go to bed with me last night?" You ask kinda quiet and Colby looks back at you in the rearview, "Of course we did. We wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I mean, I edited our latest video a little bit after you fell asleep but I was only down at the end of the bed." Sam looks back at you, "Are you doubting us, ms y/l/n?"

You laugh and shake your head, "No, no. Dave just gets under my skin and I don't know, I hate him."

Sam and Colby glance at each other, looking away before you look back up at them, "Sorry. I just-"

"You don't ever need to apologize to us, y/n." Sam smiles back at you, reaching for your hand, "I promise, everything is okay."

You take his hand and watch as he pulls you towards him, bringing your hand to his lips, "We got you."

You smile at him, jumping slightly as your phone rings. You look down, hitting the green button, "Hey Soph, I'm on my way-"

"Eli got arrested. They think he had something to do with Nina and Levi." She says frantic, "I'm not going to be able to come over tonight. I'm sorry."

"No, no hey. It's okay. Take deep breathes a- hello?" You pull your phone away seeing she ended the call, "Okay, bye to you, too."

"What's going on, babe?" Colby asks glancing over his shoulder. You sigh as you shrug, "I guess they think Eli did it. Soph didn't tell me much, all she said was Eli got arrested, she won't be able to come tonight and that she's heading to the station and hung up."

You text Noel, Eli got arrested. They think he had something to do with the murders.

"You're only trying to help her, I really don't understand why she's being this way towards you." Sam says, "She's only going to get hurt if she keeps messing around with Eli."

"You don't have to tell me." You roll your eyes, "She changed, and I'm not saying that's bad thing, but I've definitely been put on the back burner.."

"Hey." Sam lays his hand on your knee, Colby parks in the driveway and does the same. You look up at them and Sam smiles, "If they don't come tonight, screw them. If they can't see that you're only trying to help, then that's on them."

You lay your hands on theirs, "I don't know if I told you guys this lately, but I love you both so very much and I am so glad that we're whatever this is." You smirk slightly and Colby squeezes your knee, "You're our girl, what can we say?"

You smile and get out of the car, walking inside, "We should just have a movie night, chill out. Forget that we're living in fear right now." You set your bag down and turn towards them, "What do ya say?"

"I say.." Colby walks over, grabbing your hand and spinning you into him, "Let's do it."

"I second that. Or third that in this case." Sam laughs as he presses a kiss to your temple, "Now go change into something comfy then we can get this party started."

You smile all the way up to the top of the steps. You can hear Sam and Colby whispering but you think nothing of it.

You're in a mood.

A mood for them.

You throw on a bigger tee, no pants, and walk back down the steps. Their eyes immediately on you and you blush, "What?" You walk past them to the couch and they follow you like a magnet.

"Where do you think you're going?" Colby asks as he sits beside you, Sam on the other. You smirk, "You said to change into something comfy, and I'm most comfortable without pants."

"I think you got comfy confused with sexy, there babe" Sam bites his lip as he drags his hand up your back. You lean back slowly and Colby pulls you back against his chest, "Makes me want to rip you apart."

His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, "Do it." His hands slide down, raising your shirt with his fingers, "The way Sam is looking at you right now.." Colby tilts head up to look at Sam, "I think he wants to."

Your eyes meet Sam's stare, "Please."

Colby spreads your legs, one pushed up against the back of the couch and he has his hand under the knee of your other, holding it up.

Sam moves in, kissing down your neck and under your boobs until he reaches the top of your panties. He bites them, pulling his head back and letting go so they snap against your skin.

Your breath hitches and Colby chuckles deeply in your ear, "You like that, baby girl?"

You nod, whimpering as Sam kisses up your thigh and pressing his lips to your pantie covered clit, "So much."

"Can you beg for him? Hmm.." Colby gently bites down on your earlobe, "Tell him what you want."

"I want you to eat my pussy." You moan as he presses another kiss to your clothed clit, "Please, Sam.." you whimper, "Please."

Sam looks up at you, pulling your panties to the side and runs his finger against your soaked slit, "Someone needs us."

You nod, "I do.. yes.."

"Say it again, baby." Colby whispers, eyes meeting Sam's as you moan out to the feeling of Sam's fingers dipping deep inside of you, "I need you."

Colby slides his hand down, gently massaging your clit as Sam slowly pushes and pulls his fingers in and out, "You're so fucking wet."

"No one is ever allowed to touch you again, got it?" Colby gently bites your neck and you moan out, "No one but you and Sam."

Sam reaches up, turning your head so you look at him, "Who's pussy is this?"

You furrow your brows as you feel your orgasm coming on, "Oh fuck." You whimper, "You and Colby's."

"Say my name, baby." Sam bites his lip as he works up to a faster pace, causing you to clench around his fingers, "Sam and Colby's."

Your back arches off of Colby's chest and you moan, "Fuck, fuck." Colby adds more pressure, "Cum for us, baby."

You roll your hips slowly, growing closer and closer until there's frantic knocking on your door, "Y/n!"

You don't want to stop, but you reach down to grab Sam's wrist but Colby grabs your hand, pinning it to the back of the couch, "Don't try it. You're going to cum first."

Your eyes roll back as you work back up to where you were, biting your lip to muffle your moans.

The knocking and pounding on the door continues and Sam curls his fingers just right, sending you overboard. You grind your hips against their hands, pressing the back of your head into Colby's shoulder.

"Good girl." Colby reaches up, gripping your chin so he can kiss you. Sam pulls his fingers out and brings them to his own lips, "Were not done." He says with a smirk.

You smirk and shake your head, completely forgetting about someone at the door. You jump up, fixing your panties as you walk to the door, "Who is it?"

"Fucking Sophie. Now open up."

You open the door and she barges in, "Someone fucking planted shit on Eli, I swear to god." She paces back and forth, "I don't.. oh fuck.. I don't know what to do.."

"Well, if you would have listened to me before you hung up on me, I told you to breathe so why don't you try doing just that?" You walk over to the fridge, grabbing her a water and handing it to her.

"What if this was Colby? Hmm?"

"Does no one believe that I'm capable of murder?" Sam holds his arms out and laughs, causing you to smile, "Of course we do sweetie." You look back at Sophie, "No I know. It's easier said than done. I was a mess when Colby got arrested and no one knew what was happening."

"He got arrested for trespassing and having fake id's, y/n. That nothing compared to what Eli is possibly facing." Sophie sets her water down and sits on the stool, "Eli didn't do this."

"If anyone isn't capable of murder, it's him, Soph. You don't have anything to worry about. Where was he last night?"

She shrugs, "he was home."

"And you're sure of that?" You tilt your head slightly, "Why didn't you tell the police that?" She sighs, "They said they'll talk to me once they're done questioning him. This apparently is a big fucking thing because every cop is out patrolling every area around here."

You look over at Sam and Colby who are quietly talking to each other and back to her, "Well do you to-"

"Why don't you come with me? We're going back to Nina's, well sneaking back there so we can try and figure this out ourselves? We can meet Noel at her place?"

You shake your head, "I just really wanted to stay in tonight, kinda the reason as to why I told you and Noel to come here."

"Don't you want to help find the killer? I understand you didn't like Levi and Nina, but at the same time.. don't you want to help find who did it?" She looks at you and you just stare at her.

"Fine." She throws her hands up and walks towards the door, "I'm just saying.. if you showed up missing or dead, Nina would help figure it out too, she wasn't as bad as you thought."

Yes she was. You wanted to tell her in that moment just how bad they both were, but you just watched her leave.

You look over at Sam and Colby who are staring at you, unhappy about the interaction, "You okay?" Sam asks standing up, "That was uncalled for." He motions towards the door.

You shrug, "I just don't think Levi and Nina were good enough people for me to put life at risk, you know what i mean?"

Sam walks over, pulling you in for a hug, "I know, sweetheart. It's okay. Everyone deals with these things differently and it's okay."

Colby walks up, pressing a kiss to your temple, "Fuck em."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Later that night, as you're sitting on the couch, Colby lets out a groan, "My head is killing me."

"Aw. Did you take anything?" You reach over and gently scratch the back of his neck. He shakes his head slightly, "No, but I think I'm going to and then I'm going to head up to bed." He stands up, bending down to kiss your forehead, "I love you."

You smile and lay your hand on his cheek, "I love you." You press your lips to his and lean back, "You guys ate awfully lovey dovey lately."

You look between them and they smile, "Can't help it if we're just happy when we're around you." Colby punches your chin gently, "Wake me up for your run in the morning, Sam."

Sam nods, "You got it, bro."

As of right now, it was Sam's job to distract you. Make you forget about the world for a little while.

"Why don't we..." he slides his hand up your bare thigh, "Pick up where we left off?" You bit your lip, turning towards him, "Won't Colby feel left out?"

He shakes his head, pulling you to him, "We made a deal, I get you now. He gets you tomorrow morning."

You bite your lip, leaning in. You stop just as your lips are about to touch his, "So you have a schedule?" Sam chuckles and presses his lips to yours, "Only trying to keep it fair, you know how we get."

You stand up, "Take me to bed, Mr. Golbach."

Sam stands up and takes your hand, "If I ever say no to that, make sure I'm the one who's gutted next." You perk up slightly, but not from fear.

Something about his words makes you wet, "I'll give you something to murder." You both laugh at your words, "Someone is feeling frisky."

You bite your lip, "Maybe a little." Sam slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing, "Let's go." You pull him with you up the stairs, going into his room and shutting the door.

His hands slip you out of the tee, tossing it on the ground and looking at your bare chest, "You're so fucking hot." He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he walks you over to the bed.

Colby quietly sneaks out of his room, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possibly before making his way down the steps and out the front door.

"Sam.." you whimper, "I need you."

He pulls away from kissing your neck, "I want to taste you first, babe. Can you be a good girl and let me do that?"

You smirk and nod your head, "Yes."

"That's my girl." He winks and kisses down your body, making your breath hitch as he sucks little marks into the skin under your boobs and down your stomach, "Don't tease."

"That's my favorite part, besides hearing you beg for me." His fingers brush over your clit and you gasp quietly, spreading your legs further apart, "Sam.."

Colby makes his way to where they parked their car before, slightly deep in the woods, but with an easy exit. He takes a deep breathe before getting out of the car and stalking through the woods towards the house, mask on and ready to kill.

For you.

Sam slowly pulls your panties down, too slow for your liking. You go to take your legs out and Sam crawls up, "I want to take my time with you, y/n. Been a bit since I had you to myself."

You melt into him, nodding, "Sorry."

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, "You don't ever have to be sorry. You're impatient, you need to be touched. I get that." He smiles down at you, "I'm going to do just that, okay?"

You nod and watch as he moves down your body, "I just want to take you in for a minute." He kisses down your thighs, making you wetter with each kiss.

Colby takes the burner from his pocket, dialing a number.

"Hello?" Henry picks up the phone.

"What are you doing back here?"  Colby asks in the low raspy tone from the voice changer, "You guys shouldn't be back here."

Colby watches Henry spin around in circles, "Who- yo. Who the hell is this?" He stops and looks at his phone, but no luck, "What a bitch, calling me from a restricted number, you know what. If you're trying to scare me, it ain't gunna work, dude."

"What if I told you I knew who killed that bitch and her liar boyfriend, hmm?" Colby slowly makes his way around to the side of the house.

You moan, rolling your hips against Sam's face, "Fuck, fuck. Sam, I-I.." you arch your back, moaning out as you cum around his tongue, "Fuck, fuck fuck." You whimper and tangle your fingers in his hair, "Yes, yes, yes."

"How do you know that?" Henry asks and walks over to where Colby killed Levi, the dark red mark from his guts dripping still stained on the concrete, "Did you do it?"

"I did. And it felt so fucking good." Colby chuckles lowly, "He died like a bitch."

"Fuck you. I'm not do-"

"You leave that spot and your girlfriend dies next." Colby threatens, "Now, I want you to tell me something."

"What." Henry scoffs.

"What is one of your biggest secrets, Henry? I know you probably have a lot of skeletons in that dusty closet of yours."  Colby moves around, still making sure to have eyes on the house with Noel and Sophie in it, and Henry.

"I don't have any." Henry laughs, "Honest."

"Fucking liar. Do you want to die just like Levi?"

"N-no. No." He keeps his voice quiet, "Fine." Henry takes a deep breath, "I cheated on Noel, okay."

That's not what Colby was expecting to hear, "You're pathetic, just like Levi."

Henry freaks out quietly, "Fuck you. I'm nothing like Levi okay."

"Oh yeah? Do tell." Colby pulls his knife out, "I'd love to know how you were better than him."

"Again, baby. I want you to cum on my face again." Sam moves up, lying down as he pulls you to sit on his face.

"I don't know what has gotten into you.." you look down at him, running your fingers through his hair, "But I like it." He smirks up at you and pulls your hips down to meet his face, his tongue lapping at your clit.

You grip the headboard, leaning forward as you're engulfed in the pleasure once again.

"I don't just go around, throwing myself onto girls who are way too drunk to say yes or no. Okay. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He spins around, looking to see if anyone else is around.

"You're still pathetic, cheating on your girlfriend.." Colby tsks a few times, "Still doesn't make you a good guy."

"Fuck. Sam.." your legs start to shake and your eyes roll back, pulling his hair as you cum again, "F-fuck." Sam eats you out through your orgasm, heightening it in a way that's never happened before, "S-shit."

You roll off of him, laying on your back as he rolls on top of you, "Such a good fucking girl." He crashes his lips on yours and you moan against his lips as your tongue swipes the taste of yourself off his lips.

Colby moves once he knows the girls in the house won't see, and quickly grabs Henry, covering his mouth with his glove covered hand and stabs him in the back a few times quickly, before spinning him around to slit his throat.

He stares at him for a few seconds as Henry gargles and chokes on his own blood before pushing him back, his body splashing into the pool, turning the clear water red.

"Fucking bitch." Colby mumbles before disappearing into the night, listening to the screams of horror, which can only mean that he has to get the hell out of dodge.

Sam gets up, stripping his clothes off before moving back to lay between your thighs. Your knees rest against his hips and you look up at him, "I love you."

"You have no idea how much I love you." Sam whispers and pushes his cock into you, groaning out as he interlocks his hand with yours and squeezes it, "You have no idea."

Colby starts driving, a smirk resting on his lips as the thought of what he did and why he did it.

Over and over again, the vision of Henry falling lifeless into the pool thrills him.

Henry disrespected Sam, so this kill wasn't just for you this time.

"I could do this all day." Sam groans lowly, "All night." He kisses down your neck as he slowly thrusts into you, trying to hold himself off for as long as he can, "You drive me fucking insane. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."

"I'd die for you." You cup his cheek with your free hand, "You and Colby, you both.." you arch your back, moaning as you approach another orgasm, "I love you both so.." you gasp, arching your back, squeezing his hand, "So fucking much."

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his cock hits that sweet little spot each time he slides in, "S-Sam."

You moan out loudly, squeezing his cock tightly with your walls, "Fu-" you basically scream for him, clawing up his back as you cum.

He groans, thrusting all the way into you, "Fuck, as much as I love when you do that, don't." He kisses your lips, "I don't want to cum yet."

Colby pulls into the driveway and makes his way back inside, closing the door quietly. It was times like this where they were very thankful that you wanted a house that was kind of secluded from everything else.

You left your phone downstairs on the coffee table, so you didn't know it was blowing up with missed calls and texts from both Noel and Sophie.

Colby walks over, picking it up to look at the notifications on the lock screen, smirking as he reads the messages,

Soph: FUCKING ANSWER ME

Soph: HENRY IS DEAD

Soph: HELLO PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE

Missed Call Soph (25)

"Fucking. Bitches." Colby mumbles and sits down on the couch, waiting until he knows you and Sam are finished.

Sam pushes his cock all the way in, pumping his cum deep into you with a moan, "Fuck." He sighs with a smile, "You, my love, are absolutely perfect."

You smile up at him, only to have the door bursted open with Colby running in, "You phone is blowing up, babe."

He hands you the phone and your heart sinks, "No. no, no. No. No." You cover your mouth, fumbling around to call Soph.

"What happened?" Sam asks looking at Colby.

"Henry is dead." Colby shakes his head with a sad look on his face.

"Now you wanna fucking call me back?" Sophie yells and you clench your jaw, "I can't really answer when I'm asleep. Now stop being a bitch and tell me what the fuck is going on."

She's taken aback but you calling her out and she sighs, "Henry was killed, y/n. While Noel and I were in the fucking house.. Henry was fucking... killed." Her voice cracks and you can't help but to feel guilty, "I should have been there."

"No, it's not your fault it my fault. We shouldn't have came here. He tried to talk us out of it, but Noel and I pushed.." her voice cracks, "Fuck. I-I don't.. Noel is a mess. I don't.. oh my god.. can you come get me?"

"Yeah, no of course I can. I'll be right there." You hang up and stand up. You grab a sweatshirt and sweatpants, throwing them on before looking around, "Henry is dead?"

"I'm sorry, babe." Colby pulls you into his chest. You wanted to cry, but you felt like you couldn't, "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know.." Colby sighs, "Starting to freak me out, too."

"Do you want me to go with you?" Sam asks standing up and you look at him, "Yeah, please." You look up at Colby, "How's your head?"

He sighs, "Still hurts, but I thought you needed to know this."

"Thank you. Now go back to bed. I'll let you know what's going on."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You held onto Sam's hand the entire way to the scene. You squeezed his hand the more the blue and red lights filled your view.

The coroner loading the zipped up body bag into the van.

The police talking to Noel and Sophie.

Your heart was racing.

"This is awful.." you mumble as tears well up in your eyes, "Fuck.." you wipe your face and take a deep breath, "I'm going to get Sophie and see where Noel is going."

Sam nods, "I'll be here."

As soon as you get out of the car, you're greeted by Officer Tylers, "Isn't it a bit late for you?"

You roll your eyes, walking past him as you make your way to the girls, "I'm so sorry." You whisper and they both fall into you, sobbing hysterically, trying to speak but it's just mumbles and gasps for air.

Tears stream down your face, "We're going to figure this out. I promise." You lay your hands on the back of their heads, "Come on." You look at the officer, "Are they.. can we go?"

The officer nods, "Yeah, they're good."

You walk them to Sam's car, and of course, Dave is still standing there, "Get home safe now." You ignore him as you help the girls get in, Sam talks to them as you turn to get up front.

"Hey, y/n. Where were you tonight?"

Without any hesitation, "I was home, getting railed by my boyfriends." You shoot him a glare, "Now leave me alone." You get back into the car and Dave walks around to Sam's window, tapping on it.

Sam sighs, rolling it down slightly, "Can I help you, Officer?"

"go easy on this one. She's been through enough already, alright?" Dave motions towards you and Sam keeps his lips together, giving him a forced smile, "No need to worry about that. She's in good hands."

You avoid looking at him the entire time Sam turns around in the driveway, "That dude is a fucking creep."

"Was that Dave?" Sophie sniffles, "I didn't know he was an officer here."

You nod, "Neither did I until he questioned me at the station yesterday."

"That dude has always been weird with you." Sophie adds, which catches Sam's attention, "How so?" You shake your head, "We don't need to talk about that right now. Please?"

Sam gives you the, we'll talk about it later, look and takes your hand into his as he focuses on driving you guys back to the house.

It was quiet, all but the sniffles and sobs from the girls in the back. The whole time, you kept thinking about why you didn't really feel remorse for Nina, Levi, and now Henry.

It surprised you. You were usually a person who cared so much, and now you're putting on an act so no one questions you.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Sophie says from the back seat. Sam looks at her in the rear view, "For snapping at you and Colby. You guys were just trying to figure out what happened and I didn't need to be a bitch."

Sam shakes his head, "no worries, Soph."

"I'm going to tell Colby, too. You guys didn't deserve that." Sophie leans back, rubbing Noel's back, "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm going to puke." Noel lays a hand over your mouth and Sam stops right as she opens the door, spitting on the ground outside.

You turn around, holding onto the seat as you reach out, holding what you can reach of her hair back, "Let it out. It's okay."

Sam admires how caring you are of your friends, the people you love. But to him, that's not an invitation for them to take advantage of that, be nasty then expect her to pick up right where they left off, forgetting it even happened.

Sam believes you're too good for everyone in this town. Hell, him and Colby sometimes tell each other that you're too good for them, but you make them realize that they need you, without even realizing it yourself.

They're obsessed with you.

Your body.

Your personality.

The way you carry yourself, even on the worst days.

You're the reason Sam and Colby get up everyday.

You're the reason as to why they started killing.

At first, they wouldn't have even thought about committing a murder, but once the words about what happened left your drunken lips, they vowed that from that day on, you weren't ever going to get hurt again, and if you did, they'll hurt who hurt you, ten times over.

Henry's death was more personal, as said. He disrespected Sam, and that's not something you do when Colby is around.

They've fantasized together about you killing with them. Thinking about seeing you pull one of their knives out, plunging it deep it into someone flesh and twisting.

I wasn't until you tapped Sam's cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts that he realized he was staring, "Hmm. Sorry." He chuckles slightly and faces forward, starting to drive once your back in your seat correctly.

His hand goes to your leg, and he squeezes. You bite your lip, laying your hand over his.

"Who would want to kill Henry?" Noel whispers as she starts to sob, "Why him? He didn't do anything wrong." Her hands fall into her lap and she leans on Sophie, "I loved him."

"I know you did." Sophie sniffles, "We all loved Henry. He was such an asshole, but he was one of the funny, good assholes."

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that he was."

"You guys hungry or anything?" Sam asks looking back and they shake their heads. Noel laughs slightly, "I don't think I'm ever eating again, honestly."

"I've never seen a dead body, and the fact-" Sophie takes a sharp breath, trying not to cry again, "I'm so mad."

You thought it was a little strange that Sophie was so distraught, like yes. They were all friends and always hung out, but she's acting like it was her boyfriend that died.

"Any news on Eli?" You look back at Soph and she nods, "Nope. Still in holding." You frown, "Well they can't hold him. He obviously didn't do this because Henry died while he was in there."

She nods, "You're right. They can't keep him because this proves it wasn't him." She sighs, "Fuck. This whole thing is a fucking mess."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

PART TWO

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your neighbour just wants you to feel the same way she does.

prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + neighbours AU + “I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will." + sex pollen, requested by @americasass81.

pairing. | dark!neighbour!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, drugging, sex pollen, obsession, delusion, orgasm (f), allusions to fingering, mentions of female masturbation, pet names, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

Flames lick at your skin as desire burns through you—the kind that you can’t alleviate, no matter what. You’ve tried everything—rubbing your clit, humping a pillow, using the showerhead. The feeling just can’t seem to go away, and you’re left in a haze of desperation and arousal. 

There’s a knock at your door, and you curse. You quickly grab a robe and put it on, wincing at the feeling of the soft material on your hard nipples. Your thighs are sticky with your slick, and you hope the smell isn’t too noticeable.

You open it to find your neighbour, Natasha. She’s very kind. She was the only person to introduce herself; you’ve even hung out with her numerous times, bonding over ice cream and horror movies. 

The redhead leans on the doorframe, a slight smirk on her face.

“Hey, Nat… Is everything alright?” you question, crossing your arms. Her gaze is intense, burning holes as she looks right into your soul. “Oh, yeah, just peachy. How are you feeling, hon?” she asks, stepping inside. You let her, even though you’re not seeking any company now, unless they’re willing to help with your embarrassing predicament. 

“I– I’m okay. Actually, I’m a bit busy right now. Do you mind if we talk later?” you rush out, the tingling in your pussy worsening as Natasha takes a seat on your couch. “Busy? With what? Rubbing one out? That wouldn’t even help, and you know it,” she scoffs, and the blood in your face drains.

“Wh– What?” you say, confused at her words. “Don’t play dumb, honey. This place smells like that cunt, and I know exactly what your issue is,” Natasha bluntly tells you, spreading her legs with a cocksure look on her face. 

Despite the dirty thoughts that cloud your mind, you manage to piece together what she’s saying. She gave you some brownies as a little treat—and after you ate them, you started feeling this way. 

“What did you do to me?” you ask, incredulous. “Nothing, really. Just gave you a little something to make this part easier,” Natasha explains, and you squeeze your thighs for a bit of friction. Her voice is a bit husky, and her simple presence is tempting. 

“Why?” you ask, pressing your back against the door. Your legs are weak. “Because I love you, princess,” she confesses with a huge smile on her face. You scoff at her words, both out of fear and denial. “No, you don’t.”

She smiles and stands up, walking towards you. You don’t even think to make a move, your condition leaving you void of any reasonable thoughts. She towers over you slightly, and when you look up, you can only focus on her pink lips. 

“I’ll always love you, even if you don’t feel that way. But you will,” she whispers, grabbing the string to your robe. She pulls it loose, and you’re left naked in front of her. Her warm hands land on your waist, and you surrender yourself to her despite knowing better.

Natasha drags you to the couch and stands over you, dominant hand going straight to your wet pussy. She quickly finds your swollen, achy pearl and marvels at the amount of wetness that leaks out from you.

“My God, you really do need me, don’t you? Poor baby,” she coos, and you whimper at her words and touch. She rubs your clit quickly—lewd, squelching sounds filling the air along with your pathetic moans. 

You know you shouldn’t let her touch you like this—especially after her admission—but you can’t help it. It feels too good.  

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, honey,” Natasha tells you, and you’re coming before you realize it. You cry out as pleasure takes over, though the desperation remains the same. 

“M- More? Please?” you ask sweetly, and her fingers move to your wet hole. “Of course. You’re gonna be begging me to stop soon,” she jokes, but you don’t care.

At this point, you’ll take anything. 

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

why does it comfort some people or bring them joy/excitement to imagine their favorite characters in terrible situations and being hurt physically or mentally? wouldn’t you want your favorite characters to be happy and safe?

I’m sure I’ve seen this exact ask being sent to another writing blog before, so seeing one in my own inbox was a little surprising. but anyway, I’ve said this before, but I don’t mind saying it again because lots of people seem to still be confused about this; the enjoyment of imagining or seeing fictional characters in terrible situations in which they are hurt and/or scared is called whump. people who enjoy whump tend to express their interest through art, such as drawings, writings, etc. whump has a community on several online platforms, as well as here on Tumblr. we are simply known as “whump community”.

moving on to your question, “why does it comfort us to imagine our favorite characters in agony?” — there is no definitive answer to the question, because different people enjoy whump for various, different reasons, and all of these reasons are valid. however, what I can give you is some examples of the reasons why people enjoy whump

reasons why people like whump:

some people use whump as a reflection of what they’ve been through, and they let their trauma out by channeling the trauma through fictional characters. to make it as simple as I can, some people use whump as a coping mechanism to help them heal from any traumatic events in their lives.

while whump is indeed about pain, it can also be about the comfort (the healing process) that comes after the pain. I personally known several people who heal by writing whump stories in which their favorite characters went through and survived terrible things that happened to them. the comfort part of the whump was used as a symbol of hope for these people, in the sense that they hold on to the idea that if these fictional characters can survive horrible things that happened to them, they (the writers) can survive and heal too.

some people use whump as a way to let out their frustration, trauma or pain. an abuse victim may fantasize about hurting their abuser back by creating a fantasy world in which their favorite character was hurt, but later healed and/or get their revenge.

it’s also worth mentioning that one doesn’t have go through their own trauma in order to be able to enjoy whump. 

some people like whump where their favorite character is hurt because they just Want to Hurt These Little Guys. 

some people like whump where their favorite character is hurt because they like the part where their favorite character gets comforted and is nursed back to health after they are rescued.

whump that’s followed by comfort (whump with a happy ending) is valid.

whump that has no comfort (whump without a happy ending) is also valid.

because whump is a genre, just like how lots of people like horror movies just for the sake of liking them. 

the term whumperflies is used to describe the euphoric feeling a person experiences while watching, drawing, writing or reading a whump scenario that hits right in the feels. for lack of better comparison, some people experience whumperflies that come close to an orgasm, whether or not whump is a sexual thing to them (some may enjoy whump as a form of kink, while some may enjoy whump for reasons that aren’t sexual at all). for some, whumperflies are these tingling sensation in the chest and/or the stomach, for someone else, whumperflies is like when you ride a rollercoaster and the ride is going down from its highest stop. there's no wrong way to experience whumperflies, as different people describe and experience them differently.

so, yes, some people may enjoy whump just for the euphoria whumperflies bring. and some people — myself included — can’t get whumperflies unless the character that’s going through pain is their most favorite character; it’s like… because you love this character so much, you’re so connected to them, you're so emotionally invested in them that you can only get whumperflies if it’s them going through the torture, meanwhile other characters just don’t make you feel half as strongly.

and that’s explain why people in the whump community prefer their favorite characters to be the ones going through hell.

and again, just like how movies have different genres, whump is a genre — people who like whump aren’t “freaks” or “red flags” in real life, even if they like whump for reasons that aren’t about coping mechanism. whump is a genre and a form of art, and most importantly, whump is fiction. it’s not real.

I do understand why people who aren’t into whump tend to be confused by the concept of whump, and I do understand why these people think being a fan of a fictional character only means wanting said fictional character to be safe and happy, which is why whump is not for everybody, and that’s okay too.

the thing is there is no wrong way to be a fan of something that’s fictional, you can like this fictional character so much you want to see them cry and covered in blood for whatever reasons, and that’s okay. as long as you’re not hurting anybody in real life.

there’s nothing wrong or abnormal about people who enjoy whump, just like how there’s nothing wrong or abnormal about people who like horror movies. it’s fiction and it’s a form of art. and I believe everybody is allowed to express and enjoy their interests through art in whichever way they want, as long as they’re not harming anybody in real life.

[leth-writes]

yandere spiderverse

today I’m kinda going insane over the idea of a yandere spiderverse. Just the idea of your death being a canon event in pretty much every universe, the thing that makes or breaks each spider-person (spider-being?). Your death is what either motivates them to become a better hero, or the very thing that corrupts them completely. It’s the difference between being a hero and being a villain. So, you kinda serve as a Gwen figure for most of the spiders.

As a result, when they see Miles’ universe and you’re just… alive, all hell breaks loose.

Since Miles’ universe is a little to the left, especially with all the anomalies, you’re able to slip through that cosmic crack and avoid your death completely. I can honestly see you being a close friend of the Peter that died in Miles’ universe, so when the others all go to Aunt May’s to access his lab, there you are.

You’re giving everyone a tour of the lab, explaining to Miles all the different suits and their purposes and their histories, and they’re all just staring at you, this person they’ve all lost. Peter B.’s having a flashback to you falling, Penny’s thinking about holding you in her arms as you bleed out, Noir’s thinking about seeing you be shot, etc etc. Chaos ensues. They’re NOT letting you get involved, no matter how much you want to help them. You’ve spent the better half of a decade working with Blond! Peter, and you’re used to engaging with all the craziness that comes with the spiders. You’re so used to that particular brand of obsessive you probably don’t even notice how weird they’re all being.

I’m just imagining that it’s a universal constant among the spiders to be a little bit obsessive. I mean even in the films, Andrew Garfield’s Spider-man self-admittedly stalks Gwen all the time. It’s normal for them to keep track of the people they love, using any means necessary. I’m talking following you around, taking pictures of you, stealing your stuff, getting rid of any threats, saving you in case of danger, even trackers in your bag or clothing.

You don’t even blink, you’ve been through all this with Blond! Peter before. It’s honestly a bit comforting, like he’s still watching over you. You’ve had any idea of a normal relationship completely twisted.

That sense of normalcy is also what saves you from being completely kidnapped; if you run, you activate that predator sense they have and they’d give chase, it’s like a horror movie. They definitely let loose, showing their more spidery habits, including that insane flexibility and strength.

You hide behind a dumpster and Peter B. picks it up with one hand, stuff like that.

Anyways, so you don’t run. They still keep you confined to May’s place, who’s more than used to this and doesn’t really notice.

You’re trying to help with the planning and suddenly they’re all blocking your view from the terminal, looming over you, and they’re all like “It’s okay :) Go sit down :) Let Peter B. bring you a hot chocolate, maybe give you a back massage!”

They love that loose, easy sense of affection you have. It’s nice, many of them have been completely isolated since your death, too emotionally wrecked to feel comfortable reaching out or making new friends. Besides, no one could replace you.

You’re probably closest to Peter. He lost you almost a decade ago in his universe, so it’s like looking into the past. He has this almost paternal sense looking at you, he’s so protective he won’t let you out of his sight. He’s particularly disarming, so even if he’s not letting you leave, it comes off almost as a joke. Still, he can be intimidating when he’s pinning you down to the chair with webs and telling you not to worry, that he’ll take care of the Prowler once and for all, that he won’t let you get hurt ever again.

Gwen hadn’t known you very well when she’d lost you, she hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to kidnap you; you died in the same incident that took Peter from her, and that caused the rift between her and her father. It practically ruins her life, losing everyone and everything she’s ever loved in one moment. It hurts even worse knowing she’ll never get to grow closer to you; she was trying not to weird you out with how intense her feelings were. It’s her greatest regret, not just kidnapping you when she got the chance. She makes sure to work with Peter, keeping you trapped in May’s house. She’s the most likely to physically restrain you, with or without her webs.

Noir is used to the grim realities of his world, but losing you sucked every last bit of variety and life out of him. He becomes disillusioned with the system, harsher and harsher and less likely to pull back when fighting. He loses all regard for himself or for others. Seeing you is the most intense burst of color he’s ever seen; he never realized what he was missing, not being able to see the shine of your skin, the gleam in your eyes, the way the sun catches your hair just right so you look like you’re glowing. He’s entranced by your beauty, and you’re most likely to find him just kinda staring at you. It’s honestly kinda creepy, but hey, all the spiders stare at you, so you find yourself putting it out of mind.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Playing phasmophobia with some of the hazbin men.

Like, imagining playing phasmophobia with Adam who's pretending to be all big and tough but is fucking horrified so reader has to guide him through the game, and at the end he takes all the credit for it.

Or playing with Lucifer who starts out horrified and possibly starts getting better at it after reader comforts him, and makes reader play it all the time so he can get all the achievements and have reader be proud of him. I feel like eventually he'd get less scared because he'd rationalize it as being unrealistic.

Playing phasmophobia on vox's screen whilst sitting in his lap

Hazbin Hotel Scenarios

Playing Phasmiphobia With Them

Lucifer

You two were sitting in the same room, two laptops you had snuck in from VoxTech going with the famed Phasmaphobia. It took a lot of convincing to get your boyfriend, the King of Hell, to play this game with you. You wouldn't say he was afraid; more like he didn't care for the possibility of the unknown; jumpscares were the unknown.

As you two booted into the game, there were many hiccups from mic feedback to glitches, even Lucifer dying randomly from Despawn and just getting to watch you freak out. Over time, though, things were in a smooth groove, and you two were completing mission after mission. Yes, some scares still got Lucifer. Who wants to see a small child crouch walking past you. He was good at finding the evidence and surpassed you in EXP in only a handful of games.

Alastor

He was not a fan of you cramming him into your room with computers set up. He already hated modern technology, so why force him to? The way you lit up, though, made asking to play this stupid game worth it. Swallowing his pride, he joined you in playing the scary Ghost game. Though he didn't jump once, he enjoyed watching you get scared.

As the gaming session continued, he still had a distaste for anything technological, but he was having a good time with you. He managed to streamline the game much faster than you, so that way, while you were being chased and screaming, he was completing the game on the side. He still made you remove the computers afterward, but he wouldn't mind playing another game some other time.

Adam

He was not a fan of the scary ghost game in the slightest. The minute he opened his bedroom door to you having a whole gaming setup with the title screen playing, he was hoping you were just joking. However, as he sat down and began playing, he realized quickly this was really hell, not down below.

While you cackled and laughed at his disdain, he clung to you like a small child. He hated everything about it and always died first haunt. Eventually, he would get over his fears just to turn into a rage baiter. As soon as he learned all the hiding spots, he would purposefully trigger ghost events to fuck with you or get you killed first.

Husk

He watched you play more than anything. When he entered, he was exhausted from work and didn't want to use his brain any more than he had to. This was fine by you, as having him comment on the whole experience was far more fun than playing with you. He would scream and yell at your little character or the ghosts as they popped up. He had fun acting like he was watching a personal horror movie for free.

Since he is good at games, he picks up on little things that make your experience better. That way, you can have the most enjoyable playtime but still always get the ghost right. Just like his impressive memory with Poker, he memorizes all the mannerisms of the ghosts and the utilities it takes to find them.

Vox

There is no playing with Vox, only against him, with him having the better advantage. Since he is the internet, he will just play the ghost for you. While you hunt him down, he does everything in his power to scare you and make you jump. Of course, you have to play on his lap, where he can hold you still and calm you if it becomes too much.

He likes to take himself out of the screen, though, and actually play with you, only to help you complete the challenges you want. He knows it can be hard playing against him; he is the best, after all, so a little reprieve and fun can be had.

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sweet Baby (see previous or series)

Summary: 'Grant' becomes comfortable enough to tell you who he is, and you get comfortable enough to show him the kindness he deserves.

Warnings for description of minor blood/injury and light smut (mentions of morning wood, dry humping, hair pulling, praise kink? maybe coached orgasm?). This series is 18+ only. MINORS DNI. There is plenty else for you youngins to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2.6k

Warmer months are for updating the rooms, so they are on a rotation of renovation. There are really busy times and really slow times based on events in town, but there’s an understanding with Grant’s ‘party’ of friends that, if needed, they can stay in the room closed for repair. It’s not as if any room is uninhabitable when they need a coat of paint and some plumbing tune-ups.

Clark doesn’t remember you told him about this—you used the excuse that Grant ’s company are handymen (and women) who come in between other jobs,—so the front desk kid calls you while you’re out running errands one day.

Two ‘dudes’ want to stay in room eight on the end. So? Let them. Those are the people who fix things. Clark just says “kay.”

When you pull into the lot hours later, you don’t expect to find Grant sitting on the curb, filthy and exhausted in some gym clothes, a plastic bag set at his feet.

“Wha’ch’a waiting for?” you call with the window down, hoping his spirits can lift easily.

Grant peers up at you through long lashes. He’s had a knock-down drag-out with a field of bramble…or something. That’s when you notice dark, dried blood in the grime stuck to him, and he lets out a long sigh.

“Sa—Tom used all the hot water,” he huffs, “so I’m biding my time.”

Their room’s water tank, the one due for maintenance, is going to take an eternity to reheat, and it’s the worst luck that there really are no other rooms available.

“Hop on in. You can use the bath up at the house.”

He looks just as startled as you by the invitation, but in no simple terms can you express how bad it is to have a huge guy covered in blood hanging out in front of your rural motel. That’s horror movie bait.

You know Grant. You trust him. All he needs is to clean himself up.

He checks behind him again. The same mix of seeking approval or seeking the cover of ignorance returns to his pretty features, and he trots over to the passenger seat of the car, plastic bag in hand.

He helps you bring in the groceries and supplies from town even though you point him in the direction of the upstairs bathroom immediately. There’s a big jacuzzi tub in there, and he is welcome to soak for however long he wants. You’ll even wash his clothes in the mean time, if he’d like.

Grant seems hesitant to accept or argue.

You press on.

Showing him where everything is in the bathroom takes a minute. You fish around a cupboard for the muscle-relaxing milk additive, explaining it may help him…if needed. You don’t know what’s happened, so you’re flying blind for options.

When the tap turns off ten minutes later, silence descends, but he never handed you stuff to wash. You knock and try the door, just to crack it open so he can hear you.

First, you notice the color of the water. He used the milk bath alright, but whatever washed immediately off him has saturated and soured the clean white into a rusty tan. Second, you pick up the pile of clothes and find more in the plastic bag, except…it’s a suit with a star decal half-ripped and dangling from the chest. Third, you realize you can’t see him in the water at all, not his feet, not his head, no bubbles, so you rush in and shove your hands beneath the surface.

He shoots up in alarm, gasping and sloshing to a different wide, rounded corner of porcelain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you shriek, hands out and spread wide. “I just thought—I don’t know—I didn’t know if you’d—sorry!”

He rubs his hands down his face and over his dripping hair. He doesn’t even speak; he just waves for you to stop apologizing and clears water shot up his nose.

You have to collapse to the fuzzy rug and hold your heart before it beats right out of your ribcage. You still repeat “sorry” a few more times and then manage an impressed “wow, you kept all the water in.”

He thunks his head back to the lip of the tub and props up one leg, his knee cresting the surface. “I have a talent…”

The dirt, despite how much clearly came off already, is smeared grossly across him.

He looks so tired.

“May I—“ you grab the shampoo bottle all the way at his feet “—help?”

Defeated in more ways than one, he nods through the same concerned and confused gaze that’s become his signature. He maneuvers nearer you while you carefully wet your hands, starting a lather. His head stays down, spine exposed, as you massage at the base of his skull.

His eyes shut.

Your heart now swells with accomplishment; you gave this man a moment of peace.

Fingers gliding over the sinewy, tight bands beneath soft hairs, you press circles around and around his scalp. He cranes backwards while you move up and over the crown of his head, and by just above his ears, he’s laying his full weight in the water, lax against the rim.

You keep going long after his hair is strictly clean, though you’ll recommend he rinse after soaking because the water is too foul to count on.

He remains quiet, so you dip your hands in the water at his shoulders, shake them about, and move on to scrubbing his face clean, too, working down from the hairline and over his beard.

Somewhere around his throat, the man sniffs.

He sniffs again, raising a hand from the water to stop yours.

“My name isn’t…” His eyes open finally, only to stare blankly at the ceiling. “My name is Steve.”

“Okay,” you say, abandoning the washing to sit back on the mat again. “Do you want me to call you that or Grant?”

He turns, brows furrowed, and in the most authoritative voice, he replies, “you can’t tell anyone.”

You rest your chin on the lip of the tub, too. “I know. I won’t.”

Eyes locked, you two stare at each other for a long beat.

“The Captain America suit kinda gave it away though,” you whisper, and to your surprise and delight, Steve flicks water at you in retaliation.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, “handle yourself in here while I go start the laundry.”

You stretch and almost—almost—kiss his forehead because, for whatever reason, that feels right, but at the last second you tuck your head down, acting like you were just standing up. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him while gathering the clothes.

You keep busy downstairs, scrubbing at a few spots of caked on muck, trying not to listen to the sounds of splashing, the squeaking as he moves around, the rush of the draining bath, and the tap turning back on to rinse him again. You scramble to find the biggest t-shirt and pair of pants you own (although, come to think of it, Steve’s got fairly small hips, so you grab some stretchy sweats) and hand them through the door when realizing he has nothing else to wear.

He emerges with several visible cuts and scrapes but dismisses your offer to treat them.

“It’s not worth the effort. They’ll be gone by morning.”

You’ve decided something: if he doesn’t bring it up, you won’t either.

Whatever he wants to tell you, whenever he wants to tell it, you don’t ask. You are used to keeping guests’ confidence—not that anyone tells you deep, dark secrets, but you refuse to gossip about cleanliness or things in the trash—and ‘Grant’ will be no different.

You can, however, still tease him.

“Ready to share that queen bed with Tom?” You give his beefy arm a playful punch.

Steve groans.

“Kidding,” you beam. “I’m not making you walk that path in the dark right now. An elk could get ya!”

He pinches tired eyes, a ghost of a smirk realigning the hairs of his beard. You imagine that on any other day, he would put up more of a fight, but he’s fought enough.

“Yeah, okay. As long as I won’t scare the daylights out of your parents by being on the couch in the morning.” Steve steps over to the landing at the top of the stairs.

“They’re at a hospitality conference. I run the place…mostly. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer you a bed that fits you?” You dramatically bow and indicate your room. “This way, please, sir.”

Good thing he has no fight left in him. His eyes narrow adorably, but he doesn’t budge.

“I should let Tom know.”

“There is a phone in there, too. I’ll dial room eight.”

You get him some water, hanging his clothes to dry, offering as much privacy as you can in an old house with thin walls.

“Yeah, hi, it’s…yes, yes, I’m… Yeah, I know. I know, Sam, just—you don’t have to laugh about it. She let me use the bath, is all. You’re the one who—Well, don’t take all the damn wa—hello? Hello?” Steve is staring at the receiver of the land line when you appear in the doorway. “Uh, he…gets it.”

He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing around your neither childish nor sterile room. You put the glass down on your side table instead of handing it to him.

“Okay, I think you need rest,” you add, sweeping your hand down his bare arm.

You marvel at how the edges of his cuts are already shrinking, knitting back together in near-realtime. Your fingertips trace around the skin like an interactive roadmap.

First heal this, then he needs this, and this is deeper here.

You wonder whether he feels pain the same as everyone else. Is it dulled? Does he just have to ignore how much and how frequently he hurts because it goes away sooner? That’s a sad thought to you. Just because he’ll be okay, doesn’t mean he should suffer more.

He’s a miracle. As Grant, Steve, Cap, or nobody at all, he’s still a miracle.

“You don’t have to go…”

The last of the evening blurs as you wake, but you remember Steve needed this. He asked you to stay.

Spooning is the only way to fit on the bed together. After finishing your own bedtime routing, you began behind the giant man, curled tight, lightly scratching over his broad shoulders and arms. He fell asleep so quickly, and you don’t recall how long after that you both turned over. You had to drape Steve’s awkward arm around you, show him he could hold you close, assure him he can be as comfortable as he likes.

Whichever way he settled is infinitely better than falling off the bed, and you’re grateful he’s accommodating in a small space. You suppose he has to be. Though, for a man as dense as a brick wall, he is shockingly pliant around you. 

Shame you have to stretch, ruining the picture of fitting puzzle pieces you’ve become.

Arms out and legs long, you roll, restless on the one side for too long in the night. Steve shifts around your moves, laying his head on your arm instead of the pillow. His arm that was your pillow wedges down by your waist instead.

Your knees knock his, so even in sleep, he lets them slot through, legs entangled and…his erection laying over your thigh, the tip poking your hip.

Your body tenses for a split second, the muscles of your leg brush harder against his cock, and Steve groans softly, the arm draped over you pulling your body closer.

He’s still asleep, breathing easy, his features totally relaxed.

His golden hair shines in the early light, and he’s so, so beautiful.

You move stray locks from his face, enjoying how he nuzzles and sighs as you play. Quiet, lazy touches.

His hips nudge forward for friction. His fingers grab at your nightshirt. One of his shifts angles his length to drive against your mound instead, and you gasp involuntarily, having smothered your excitement for too long.

He stirs, a heavier, longer breath followed by Steve's whole body going rigid and his eyes squeezing shut. He tries to bury his face in your arm, and you can’t help it. You hope he’ll continue.

You shush him, carding through his hair to soothe him as you did in the bath.

There’s nothing wrong.

He can feel good.

He should feel good.

You want him to feel good. Hell, you don’t say it, but you need to make him feel good.

Steve still won’t face you. He leans closer, shielding himself with your chest, but he doesn’t pull his hips away.

You can hear him thinking through his options groggily, and in your nervousness, you pull at the fistful of hair in your hand.

Steve whimpers and juts his pelvis forward.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Did you like that? Does that feel nice, Stevie?”

His abs flutter with a spasming exhale, but he says nothing. His rough hands dig into your back while he desperately seeks more friction.

You let him—you encourage him—to keep going.

“Whatever you need…it’s okay.”

He pants into your skin, making you sweat while he dissolves into a mewling mess of shame, taking what he deserves.

He bends his leg for leverage, the sole of his foot pressing flush to your calf. You feel his thumping heartbeat along all of your skin that touches his. He swallows moans which sound hollow and deep where they die in his chest before Steve grunts and stretches, the whole underbelly of his cock rubbing your inner thigh and baiting your clit mercilessly with almost-contact.

You release his hair, asking “do you want my han—”

But it’s too late.

Steve seizes you in his last moments hard before he stills, palms so wide you’ll feel the marks over an entire shoulder blade and the breadth of skin from your ass to your ribcage.

You yelp, the nails of your trapped hand clawing at the sheets around you. It’s a good pain. It’s worth it to witness how his body melts into yours after he comes. He’s lax and heavy, pathetic convulsions of ecstasy subsiding.

You’re only just starting to feel the wet fabric on your thigh when he peels away and rushes to the bathroom.

The best thing for him is to act normal. It is normal for him to be hard in the morning, to want contact and satisfaction, and the truth is it’s perfectly normal for you to dream of providing that for him. You want that contact with him. You are satisfied when he is satisfied.

That's scary because it's a secret as hidden from you both as his identity now, but you won't talk about it. If he doesn't ask, then he doesn't want the answer. It's better that way.

So that was okay, and this is okay.

It's okay, and you tell him when you bring his gym clothes back to the door. You repeat it as he walks out of your home unable to look you in the eye, his partially-destroyed past life wadded up in a fresh plastic bag.

At the bottom of the porch steps, he turns, still focused on the ground.

“Thank you for the…the bath.”

You can’t tell anyone about him—about how you feel for him—not even him. It wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t want that.

“I’m glad you feel better, Grant.”

A/N: Google, Play 'Hopelessly Devoted To You.' *starts weeping some more*

[Next Part: Sensitive Boy, Part I]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[fudgelling-away]

Dating Start!

The visual novel fan game.

I watched the gameplay on YouTube.

All possible choices...

The writing under the cut starts with exclamations of my distress, and ends with a coherent commentary on how experiencing such virtual scenarios can benefit the player.

I don't think there are spoilers... Other than the fact that you can go multiple ways through the game.

The genocide route plus the attempted pacifist route afterwards.

HORRIBLE.

OMG.

And when you try to do the pacifist route again? Did you see how it ends?

MY GOD, NO. No. no. no no no.

What a sickening turn of events. This is... Ugh, I am nauseaus even thinking back to it.

No. No.

Ewwww noooo what the f-

I have been upset for DAYS after watching it. And the pictures and the dialogue is still burned into my mind.

TERRIFYING.

DISGUSTING.

EVIL.

Congratulations to the creators - and I mean it.

That is... so well made. Just... perfect punch after punch after punch to your heart. The creators ripped me apart into pieces.

Great job - again, not ironically.

That is a very, very well made game.

They knew exactly what to do to make it as painful as possible. To get all tears out of the player and to traumatize them for some time.

It's not brutal or cruel in a mindless way, no. No, no. It's way more intelligent than that. It creates such a horrific scenario, paired with the horrific pictures, that I don't think I'll ever forget it. And I only saw a YouTube video.

In comparison to Dating Start!, the normal UT Sans fight is like a happy picnic in the park.

"But it's just a game, aren't you overreacting?", you could ask. Well, no. I am enjoying artwork like pictures, movies, games to get immersed into it and experience it all. If I keep my shield up and do not allow myself to feel what the characters are feeling... then what's the point?

What's the point of even approaching art if I refuse to feel any of it?

So Dating Start! is obviously a game, but if you imagine it being a reality, imagine yourself holding that knife, it gets so painful that I want to wail and scream my lungs out.

That being said, I appreciate artists who create these kinds of difficult works so much.

I believe we choose a variety of art for ourselves because we need different stimuli. If our life was 100% fluff, we'd drown in it and become numb.

So we consume angst, tragedies, horror and other unpleasant works.

We consider those scenarios.

We think of the possible choices.

We come to terms with our worldview, or challenge it.

We grow.

We process those real emotions and learn so many things about ourselves and problem solving.

We keep developing our sense of conscience.

--------

And, to sum up I will say something to make sure I am understood correctly:

Let people explore all sides of humanity within the safety of their fantasies.

It is NOT possible to judge a person by what they create and what art they enjoy. Human mind is not black and white.

Choosing to perceive it like that: "violent art = violent person" is INCREDIBLY IMMATURE. Ridiculously childlish and small-minded.

So I am absolutely NOT judging anyone who for one reason or another enjoys doing the genocide routes in games. I enjoy to be the "bad guy" in games as well.

No judgement from my side. That should be... obvious, but I think it's not, so I am making sure to include that in my post.

[sundrop-writes]

Ghosting

Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you.

Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).

Word Count: 3,700

Horror Characters Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this fic contains major spoilers for the film - so if you haven't watched it yet and you're just here for Josh Hutcherson being sad and beautiful (and if you want to watch the film unspoiled) be warned; this fic does use Y/N; this fic is almost pure angst - the beginning is fluffy, but that only exists to make the angst hurt more; this fic does not have a happy ending; hurt, no comfort; this fic has mentions of Mike's past traumas and him having symptoms of PTSD; the reader is a mother figure to Abby; Mike refers to the reader as his 'wife' (in his mind, not in dialogue); Mike is in love with the reader (and it's implied that she knows this/can sense his feelings) but he doesn't get a chance to actually confess to her and they aren't in a romantic relationship at any point during this fic; (uh, kind of spoiler for the fic but this was in the prompt/request) - major character death: the reader character dies after being stabbed by Springtrap/William Afton/The Yellow Rabbit (gotta love fnaf - when a character has that many names); mentions of blood; descriptions of violence - descriptions of the fight between Afton and Mike, descriptions of the reader being stabbed by Afton; Abby is there to witness the reader's death; idk what the other warnings are aside from major angst - this will be an emotional gut punch. Anyway, please enjoy it lmao.

A/N: The title of this fic comes from the song Ghosting by Mother Mother. I was listening to different songs trying to pick a title, and I really like how this one fits. How their romantic love was like a ghost in their lives - not discussed, but felt between the both of them, and after she's gone, she becomes a ghost in his life.

...

Mike woke up to the smell of pancakes. 

Typically, mornings were his least favorite time of day. Seeing as he was the kind of person who didn’t sleep well, didn’t sleep at all, or found himself consumed by nightmares when he did - most mornings, he was too tired to comprehend the world around him. Mornings were a chaotic mess for him as he tried to pull himself back from the brink of insanity while operating his sluggish body with far too little energy until he got some coffee into his system. He came to resent mornings, as for him, they existed only in a dreadful haze. 

And he rarely ate a proper breakfast because of it. Most of the time, his ‘breakfast’ consisted of a large cup of coffee and a few pieces of Eggo waffle that he would snag off of Abby’s plate going out the door as he scolded her for not finishing it all. 

The second that the pleasant smell of freshly cooked food reached his nose, his stomach growled. 

Through the sleepy fog of his brain, hearing voices - multiple voices - coming from down the hallway, he realized that it wasn’t just Abby and some muffled cartoon characters from the TV. 

“Which one?” Abby posed, her voice bright and curious as ever. 

“Personally… I like the red sweater. It matches the red laces in the shoes you picked,” You replied, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the sizzling of the pan. 

You were helping her pick out her clothes. Abby would have never wanted Mike’s help on the subject. So often she scoffed at him if he suggested that he could help her put her hair in a ponytail or if he told her that she should put on a jacket if it was cold outside. But she asked you for your advice about clothes because she admired you. She thought you were pretty, as she had told Mike on multiple occasions (not so subtly hinting that he should date you). 

Mike heard footsteps thundering down the hallway as Abby rushed to her room to get dressed, likely carting along the clothes you had helped to pick. He distantly wondered how you had gotten into the house before he was even awake. 

And then, he remembered - a few weeks ago, he had given you a key to his place. 

It was something that had come after he had accidentally locked his own set of keys in the car, his mind jumbled and forgetful after not having much sleep the night before. And with the evening ticking on and the takeout you had picked up for the three of you quickly getting cold in your hands (everyone eager to simply get into the house and eat) - Mike had been hit with the realization that any solutions to unlock the car - the spare key, a metal coat hanger, a phone to call a mechanic - were all locked in the house. 

So he had hoisted Abby in through her bedroom window (after scolding her for not locking it) and gotten her to unlock the front door. And shortly after that, he had given you a house key, because generally, you were better with things like that. 

You were much more organized - your mind a clear, calm palace compared to the chaos that Mike often found himself swamped in. You were someone who worked incredibly well under stress, and that was why Mike valued you so much in his life. Right from a childhood where the two of you had pulled pranks together and he had been copying your homework, to the time he had leaned on you during the initial stress of Garett’s disappearance - up until now. When he was a messy, disorganized adult who still needed you far more than he was ever willing to admit. 

It was just one of the many reasons he admired you so much. You took care of him in ways he couldn’t even put into words. 

He smiled to himself as he heard more of your chatter with Abby. Previously, he had remarked that the key was for ‘emergencies only’ - but he couldn’t bring himself to care all too much about the breach of that rule as he tumbled out of bed. Especially when the smell of bacon also reached his nose as he walked to the bathroom. 

It was when he was pulling on his pants that he glanced at the clock and realized he was already running on the late side. Not too late yet, but he had to put some urgency in his step. He had somehow forgotten to set his alarm, today of all days, when he would be meeting with a career counselor after the disastrous incident that got him fired from the mall. 

He rushed down the hallway struggling with his tie, bringing his usual air of chaos with him. His heart instantly warmed at the sight of you and Abby - you had her sitting at the table, somehow so much more polite and cooperative for you, with a glass of juice beside her plate while you scooped freshly made pancakes onto it. 

“You know, usually when most people break and enter, they don’t make breakfast,” Mike commented, his voice cool and jovial as he grew increasingly frustrated with his tie. 

He thought he was forming the knot correctly, but it kept falling loose in his hands, causing a deep crease across his brows as he frowned at the fabric. 

You giggled at this - both at his words and at his obvious struggle. You put the pan on the counter as you walked toward him, leaving Abby to pick up the bottle of syrup and begin thoroughly drowning her pancakes while you weren’t looking. You knocked Mike’s hands away in that wordless kind of care and began calmly tying his tie. 

“Well, I considered going the traditional route, but there’s nothing worth stealing here.” You remarked, playing off the banter that was only built between the two of you after years of friendship. “Plus, The Breakfast Burglar has such a nice ring to it.” 

“That makes it sound like you steal people’s breakfast.” Abby giggled. 

“I would, if certain little girls didn’t drown their pancakes in syrup.” You replied, not bothering to look over your shoulder at her to know what she was doing. “That’s enough, Abs.” 

She rolled her eyes harshly at this, but put the bottle of syrup down and picked up her knife and fork. 

Mike grinned widely at this. You were more like a mom to her than their own mother ever was. And the fact that you knew her so well and took care of her without question always brought him joy. 

His smile only widened when you smoothed a warm hand down the front of his chest, and he looked down to see a perfectly neat knot in the front of his tie. He felt a tingling swarm of butterflies in his stomach at your touch - something that threatened to spread through him and turn him into a dizzy, lovesick fool. Urgently, he needed to distract himself with something else. 

His eyes shifted over to the side table, and he realized that his keys weren’t where he usually threw them down when he got home. 

“Have you seen my-?” 

Once again, you were two steps ahead of him. More organized than him. 

“Keys.” You said, turning around to the counter and holding the key ring up on your fingers. “Your resume, formatted and printed.” You held up a folder that contained this as well. “Your wallet, and breakfast burrito.” 

You gathered up his wallet and a warm bundle wrapped in tinfoil - his breakfast. The small notion of caring, the fact that you thought ahead to make something he could eat while rushing out the door - it caused that dangerous tingle to overtake his stomach once again. As you crossed the room and placed all the items in his hands, he had the intense urge to lean over and kiss you - he knew the domesticity was crippling. 

You had been his best friend for years, you had helped him take care of Abby for as long as the little girl could remember. You felt more like a wife to him than anybody else ever would. 

And yet, you had absolutely no clue how he felt about you. It would have felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to lean over and kiss you goodbye before leaving - just like a husband would do with his wife. But the two of you weren’t married. You weren’t even dating. You took care of him because you were his best friend. Because you had always taken care of him the way a best friend should. 

“What would I do without you?” He said, knowing that the pure fondness in his voice could have easily given him away - if he didn’t talk to you like that all the time. 

“Hmm… probably run around naked and starving,” You chuckled, shrugging as you walked back over to Abby and sat down beside her at the table. “Now get going. I’ll take Abby to school.” 

“Have a good day, Abs.” Mike said, wishing his sister well - only to receive a mindless nod in reply before she went back to chatting with you about something, excitedly telling you a story involving one of her imaginary friends while you watched her with absolutely rapt attention. 

He moved toward the door, but he found himself caught up in the sight of you. You were a hero in their little world as you rushed to save one of Abby’s drawings from some syrup that dripped off her plate. When you complimented the picture, she glowed with a smile he hadn’t seen in days. 

That was a huge part of it, too. The love he felt for you that grew more agonizing each day. You brought out all the best parts of Abby, as well as keeping Mike himself from going truly insane. 

For a single moment, he wondered if he should tell you. He wondered if he should just blurt out the words before running out the door, leaving you to simmer in it. Giving you time to think about it - to yell at him about it later. 

It hovered on his tongue. 

I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. 

But when you looked over and saw him still standing by the door, he locked eyes with you, and suddenly it was gone again, swallowed up inside of him like a nasty ache that would live there forever. 

“Go, Mike! You’re gonna be late!” You said, your voice edging with casual laughter. 

You picked up one of the couch cushions and swatted him with it as you walked by to get Abby a paper towel from the kitchen. 

No. He would tell you some other time. 

Perhaps he wouldn’t work up the courage to tell you at all. 

… 

He was going to die. He was going to be killed. 

And he wasn’t going to get the chance to tell you that he was in love with you. 

Strangely enough, that was the one thing Mike was thinking about as he laid on the cold, dirty floor of Freddy Fazbear’s condemned pizzeria. His stomach burned with searing pain as he received another kick from the large, intimidating monster that he knew only as the Yellow Rabbit. 

He was going to die. He wouldn’t get to tell you how he felt. He would never get to see you ever again. 

He was going to save Abby. He was going to make sure that she got out of here, escaped somehow. And you would take care of her. That thought was a singular comfort to him as he felt one of his ribs crack from the metal (poorly disguised by the foam and fabric around the edges of the suit) colliding with his torso.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “I killed your brother, now I get to kill you. Symmetry, my friend!” 

“Get away from him!” 

Mike almost thought that the intense pain had caused him to hallucinate, or that he had hit his head on the floor hard when he had been thrown down - it couldn’t actually be you.

But he heard your voice, fierce and fiery as ever, defending him as you had so many times before. He struggled to get his head up to look, but he caught a glimpse of the Yellow Rabbit as the strange animal collapsed. 

You had picked up one of the chairs, and brought it down over the Rabbit’s head, perfectly imitating something that would have been on Monday Night Raw. Except this was pure wood, not a collapsing chair, and all the pieces that splintered and fell in front of Mike as the Rabbit collapsed were because of the pure force of your hit. The fury of which you defended him and his life. 

“Y/N!” Abby yelled your name from across the room. 

She rushed into your arms as you stepped over the Rabbit’s prone body, and you swept her into a tight hug. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s going on?” You rushed to ask, brushing her hair out of her face to inspect for any injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Abby told you. “Mike-” She then turned to her brother, frantic, and pulled away from you to fall to her knees by his side. 

“Mike, what the hell is going on?” You asked, on your knees at his side just as quickly. 

You turned him over on his back, inspecting him for injuries now - definitely not liking what you found. 

Abby held his hand and he grasped it right back, his head still dizzy from the thorough ass-kicking he had just experienced. 

You gasped when you saw blood leaking through his shirt. He grunted in pain when you pressed your hand into the wound, clearly trying to lessen that bleeding. 

“What - what are you doing here?” He croaked out. 

As much as he was thankful for you swooping in and saving him, he wished that you were safe somewhere else. Anywhere but here. 

“Abby left her jacket in my car, and when I went to return it, I saw your Aunt Jane passed out on the floor, and - and, I just had a bad feeling.” You rushed to explain. “Somehow, I figured you’d be here.” 

Mike hadn’t exactly told you the details of what was going on. 

As close as the two of you were, he wasn’t sure if you would be entirely receptive to the concept of Abby being ‘friends’ with robots that were controlled by ghost children, and Mike somehow feeling connected to his own missing… dead brother by being in this place. He had simply told you that his new job was a night shift at a creepy old abandoned pizza place. 

But of course, you were two steps ahead of him. As always. 

You pulled back your hand to inspect the bleeding, and Mike groaned again. 

“Should I call an ambulance?” You asked, and Mike shook his head furiously. 

“No, we have to-” 

We have to leave. You have to leave. You have to get Abby out of here, to safety. 

All of those words dissolved on his tongue as he watched with utter shock. He wanted to scream as a big yellow hand clasped onto your shoulder from behind, and soon, a pair of large rabbit ears rose up from the floor. 

He wasn’t down for the count. 

Before he could speak, before he could move, Mike’s throat became choked as he saw your expression shift from the kind concern that you had worn for him many times - to pain. A brutal shock of your own. 

The Rabbit had shoved his knife into your back. 

A bright pool of red began to form in the middle of your shirt as the tip of the knife just barely poked through the center of your chest. 

“No!” Mike shouted, rushing to sit up despite the pain screaming in his body. 

He put a shaking hand to the middle of your chest as though it mattered, as though he could save you from this. He hated how warm your blood felt underneath his fingers. 

Abby let out a scream beside him. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he felt a pang of guilt that she had to see this. That she would spend the rest of her life trying to get over this. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” The Rabbit mocked him. “It always hurts more when you love them!”  

The Rabbit let out a brutal laugh and then yanked his knife from your back, and you released a sharp breath as the Rabbit shoved you toward Mike, causing you to collapse into his lap in a bloody heap. 

Somewhere far away, in another world, Mike heard Vanessa shouting from the doorway. Maybe he felt some sense of relief, thinking she would shoot the Rabbit down and this would all be over. But as the Rabbit’s attention was drawn away from him, he turned to where you were draped across his lap, the small pool of red on your shirt now soaked into a large puddle as you sputtered and some of that harsh bright red blood came out the corner of your lips. 

“Mike-” You choked out, reaching for him. 

“Tell me what to do,” Mike choked out. 

His mind was miserably blank. He felt your fingers clutching at his bicep, like he held the key to saving you, like he could restore your life - but his mind was screaming and his chest collapsed in on itself. 

You were always the one that guided him. He didn’t have an idea if you didn’t plant it in his head first. 

“Y/N,” Abby sobbed. 

“It-it’s okay.” You told her, struggling, gurgling, choking on your own blood. You took your grip off Mike, extending the hand weakly to her, and she took it. “It’s g-gonna be okay.” 

She let out another harsh sob, and Mike felt his lungs fill with stone. 

“Tell me what to do,” He said desperately, not realizing how thick his own voice was, how close he was to breaking down. He ran a trembling hand over your face, brushing away some stray hairs - he hated how cold you felt to his touch. “Please, tell me what to do.” 

He thought you might suggest some first aid. An ambulance. Tell him where your car was so he could carry you there, cart you away, get you to safety. 

“You-re g-gonna take c-care of her-r.” You told him, shifting your eyes distinctly from him toward Abby, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re gon-na m-make it ok-ay.” 

“Y/N.” Abby cried, thick tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Abby. You’re gonna b-be s-strong.” You grinned at her - your teeth were covered in blood, and it looked as menacing as it did fond. “You’re g-gonna be good for-r M-Mike, right? My little a-artist.” 

Abby nodded, more tears leaking from her eyes. 

And then, with some gears turning in her head, these words seemingly having triggered some line of thought, she looked up and spotted something across the room. She muttered something about the drawings and leapt up before Mike could stop her. He didn’t have the strength to chase her - he only hoped that she was leaving, escaping while the others were distracted. 

When he looked back down at you, your face was falling more limp, and your shirt was somehow even more soaked in blood. His jeans were wet, and he couldn’t even process why. He pressed a hand to the front of your shirt, trying to cover the wound as you had done with him - his muscles shook even harder when blood gushed out between his fingers and seemed to leak from you harder, as if to spite him. 

“Y/N,” He sobbed, leaning down. He cradled the back of your head and touched your forehead against his own. 

For a moment, he dreamed about putting his lips against your own and bringing you back to life with a kiss. Like some stupid fairytale. 

“Y/N, I-” 

I love you. 

“I - I know.” You croaked quietly, cutting him off. “D-don’t w-waste it on me now-w.” 

He felt the puff of your last breath as it expelled out against his cheek - he felt you go completely limp in his arms. 

“No-” He choked the word off in his throat, swallowing down sobs. 

No. 

He held you tighter against him, and feeling how cold you were, he let out a shuddering howl of a sob. He clasped your lifeless body against his chest - somehow believing that he could use the power of his grief to inject more life back into you. 

The rest of it was a blur. The deadly snap of springlocks, Vanessa shouting at him to abandon you - to abandon your body as the building collapsed in on itself. 

Mike didn’t truly break down until he was scrubbing his blood off your face in the bathroom sink that night. Seeing the red washing down the drain and knowing that it was the last traces of your life he was washing away - that was what truly did it. He collapsed onto the floor and stayed there for hours, sobbing more than he breathed, unable to move. 

When his cries finally died down, Abby slowly crept in and asked him how he was feeling. He lied, telling her that he was feeling fine. She raised up a shy hand, offering him one of your sweaters that you had accidentally left on their couch a few days prior. 

He thanked her and then finally peeled himself off the floor. He tried to make pancakes and Abby remarked that they weren’t as good as yours. It felt impossible, but her words made him smile. It was a small, dull smile - but it was a smile, nonetheless. 

A few days later, when he finally fell asleep for the first time after you had died in his arms, it was with that sweater wrapped around his pillow, wafting your faded smell into his nostrils. It was the first time in years that he didn’t dream about Garett. The dream he had about you was just as haunting.

...

A/N: Also, I don't know if Afton's knife would actually be long enough to go through someone's back and pierce out the front of their chest but - one, it's a cool imagery, and two, the knife looks pretty large when compared to the scale of the Springtrap suit hands. Anyway, I don't actually care all too much if it's accurate or not, I had fun writing this lmao.

[canellescandles]

DONT PLAY ANIMAL CROSSING AT 3AM

horror au

playing animal crossing was all fun and games with ellie until events happening in the game turned out to happen in real life

->inspired by a short movie on yt

A/N:sorry for the long break,I went to the beach and lost my right arm because of a damn shark. Specialists say they want to know how human flesh tastes, but it bit my whole arm off 😵‍💫. Anyway, I’ve learned to write with my left hand so I can still cook 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

Rainy days were your favorite.

They gave you and Ellie an excuse to stay indoors and play video games for hours on end.

After playing the same games repeatedly, growing emotionally attached to them, Ellie convinced you to give a try to something different from your usual apocalypse-themed games.

Halloween was tomorrow and ellie judged it to be the perfect time to introduce you to Animal Crossing's latest spooky update, a game you had never tried before.

"it's not traumatizing-scary, but I thought if I like it, you would too," Ellie said as she turned on her Nintendo Switch, a gift Joel had given her for her last birthday.

Often, she would gift you video games from her own massive collection, which hadn't gotten her into the Guinness World Records yet, but it might one day.

It was your favorite hobby together, a shared passion that easily brought you closer.

"you know what I like. If it's not pee-your-pants scary, it's deadly boring," you stated clearly as you made yourself comfortable next to her on her bed, lying flat on your stomach, propping yourself on your elbows as your eyes darted to her screen, the game just starting.

"oh yeah? we'll see about that. I bet ten bucks you'll get so addicted, you won't wanna go home tonight," Ellie said with a confident smirk, pressing 'play' as she seized the opportunity to have you to herself for longer than usual.

The screen flashed, revealing Ellie's character in a virtual room. "just watch me," she muttered, focusing on the screen as she led her character out of the room with a joystick.

Her character entered a clothing shop, trying on brand new clothes.

"I'll let you know that having no taste is a symptom of covid" you teased, followed by Ellie's soft chuckle.

She was used to your constant teasing but never grew tired of it.

"alright, try to make her look hot. we're going to see who’s going to need to get their health checked."

You smiled in victory, pleased to get a chance to play on her Switch.

"alright, bet" you said, going through every option available, trying your best to give Ellie's avatar a brand-new Halloween costume.

After a while, your lips curved into a smile as you admired her avatar in a cute, spooky witch costume.

But when you tried to buy the costume, your face fell in disappointment at the sight of Ellie's in-game money.

"man, she's broke af. that's why she looks so hideous. I can't even make her glow up, that's so sad."

"hey, take that back...as long as she's got clothes on, it's fine." Ellie said, taking back her Switch and removing the costume you were eager to buy.

You rested your head in your hand, already feeling exhausted, when suddenly, a loud, deep rolling growl pulled you out of your trance, followed by increasing pouring rain.

"looks like you're stuck with me tonight,"ellie smiled cheerfully, already plotting to stay up all night.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Halloween was only after a night, right after the full moon, but the spooky vibe that accompanied it came early today.

Both of you had turned the lights off, total darkness enveloping you, with the rain pouring and spooky sounds coming from the game as background noise.

You and Ellie took turns exploring the city and completing Halloween quests, distracting yourselves from the menacing storm that didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

That is until another storm struck, slightly shaking Ellie's house and almost blinding you with the flashes of lightning outside the windows.

Now, the rain was pouring softly.

It was the calm before the next storm.

Turning your attention back to the game, the first thing you saw was Ellie's character momentarily freezing as the screen quickly flickered.

Ellie looked at you to see if you found this as creepy as she did.

"so, still boring as fuck miss apocalypse?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"a jumpscare here and there won't hurt"

A laugh escaped Ellie's lips. "bro, this is 'Animal Crossing,' not Freddy and his friends or whatever."

"Freddy and who?" A look of confusion on your face didn't betray your words.

"Freddy and his friends," she exclaimed, her gaze averted, trying to use her brain that's rotting from playing all the time. "the bear dude who scares kids or something. I dunno, I haven't played that stuff."

"that's FNAF, girl."you corrected, looking at Ellie puzzled. Between the two of you, you always assumed Ellie to be a game nerd.

"yeah, whatever," she said.

Now that you mentioned it, she actually remembered playing it but somehow forgot about it.

Your eyes drifted from Ellie's to her screen, which had stopped flickering, noticing many details.

"You know, I don't know how you managed to do that, but.."

Many details you've never paid attention to before.

"It's really cool how you got an exact copy of your bedroom in there," you said, looking back at Ellie, impressed.

Ellie’s eyes fell on the screen as she listened.

Her eyebrows furrowed suddenly.

She had never noticed too.

In fact, she had never decorated her in-game room with the intention of making it look like her real-life room.

As if trying to make her memories clearer, she scratched the back of her head, trying to think back to when she decorated her room in the game.

"uh, thanks. I never tried to make it look like my room, though."

"you even got the Savage Starlight poster on your wall," you pointed out, looking at her screen curiously before glancing at the same poster in real life, which was in the exact same spot in the game.

Though you were absolutely amazed by this, Ellie felt anything but impressed.

A feeling of unease started to creep up inside her.

No matter how much time she had spent in that game, she never recalled getting this poster.

This was undeniably weird, but it's only in such an atmosphere that things start to get interesting.

It was just a game after all.

"yeah, I think that's how I got broke," an awkward laugh escaped her lips, ignoring how hot she suddenly felt.

With shaky hands, Ellie wandered around her in-game room, which was just as dark as the one in real life.

To lighten it up, she walked towards the lamp on her bedside table, noticing it was placed just like in reality.

After looking at the bedside table, she focused her attention on her screen again and pushed a button to turn on the lamp.

At that moment, a quick 'click' sound echoed in the room, instantly drawing both your and Ellie's attention.

The bright lamp was flickering, casting shadows behind it.

You felt Ellie's eyes on you and turned to look at her, wondering if you both saw the same thing.

"you did that, didn't you?" Ellie asked, eager for a rational explanation for this unusual moment.

"no, I didn't," you exclaimed. The bedside table was just to your left, but your arms remained flat on the bed.

Even if you wanted to scare her, you couldn't have been that creative.

However,your words weren't convincing enough for her to believe them.

Still trying to figure out what was happening between her game and her room, she decided to try something again.

"stay here and don't move," Ellie ordered, to which you nodded and obeyed.

The drawer next to her closet drew her attention.

Her eyes fell back on her game, staring at the same drawer.

You watched Ellie's every move, your nervousness increasing as her finger pressed a button.

It was inevitable.

The drawer opened in the game.

The drawer opened in real life.

A mix of confusion and excitement flashed across Ellie's face as virtual and reality made one.

Thrilled by the turn of events, she turned to face you.

"now this is getting creepy as fuck," Ellie said, talking to you but becoming self-conscious about one thing.

You weren't alone anymore.

"yeah, this feels like the first minutes of a horror movie, but not the shitty low-quality serial killer ones—"

"the crazy haunted ones that leave you paranoid with 'inspired by a true story' in their summary."

"we're definitely in some 'bury your gays' type shit."

Ellie's soft laugh contrasted with the eerie atmosphere. No matter how serious the situation was, you were still able to make her laugh.

A part of her still clung to denial, seeking any rational explanation, but... where's the fun in that?

Was it scary because it was cool?

Or was it cool because it was scary?

Either way, this mystery was eager to be solved. Unsure of where all of this would lead, Ellie gave in to the temptation to discover it.

You decided to keep playing.

She then walked toward her in-game guitar, which was placed in the exact same spot in real life, right beside her desk.

Your eyes drifted toward it while Ellie was focused on her screen.

This was getting more and more interesting.

She pushed one button,making her character picking up the guitar.

As mini-ellie strummed the chords, you and her noticed something about the sound.

The melody wasn't coming from her Switch.

It echoed from her guitar in the corner of her room.

You couldn't believe your eyes,your ears and your mind.

In denial, you were convinced you were dreaming. But when you pinched your skin multiple times, nothing changed.

Ellie looked at you, seeking confirmation that this wasn't all in her head, a sign of her insanity.

"I'm starting to believe there's someone here with us," you said, your worried eyes meeting hers.

"you're just realizing that now?" she smirked.

You crossed your arms protectively, feeling thrilled by the game despite how scary it was becoming. "I'm actually surprised you still haven't peed your pants."

"trust me, it'll take more than that to freak me out like you."

"be careful what you wish for," you warned, feeling and fearing that something was about to happen.

In the dark,where fear and curiosty reigned over all your emotions,it was the comfort place for one thing.

The storm had calmed down for a while, but the rain continued pouring relentlessly.

Each droplet hit Ellie's closed windows, the sound resembling someone knocking.

Now you don't know how that spirit managed to stroll across the windows, but you knew that it got her.

It got Ellie.

With wide white eyes and mouth parted open, her body was entirely frozen, unresponsive to your calls.

The evil had total control over her body.

At least, that's what she made you want to believe.

After slightly shaking her to make her stop, you thought of her biggest weakness, something that always worked when she'd try to prank you like this.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA," Ellie panted as you tickled her sides, desperately trying to push you away from her before she fell off the bed,head hitting the floor.

Worried, you put a hand over your mouth at the scene. "oh my... are you alright?"

"would be better if you help me back up,"you reached out a hand that she carefully took, before helping her to lay back on the bed.

This is what she gets for trying to scare the hell out of you, always using the same old prank that only worked once on you.

When you were worried about her head, she was shamelessly laughing.

"you know what? laugh while you can. we'll see if you laugh once you wake up in the flames of hell after I choked you in your sleep."

"wow... nice charming words, you really know how to make a girl feel special, huh?" Ellie snickered as she saw you rolling your eyes at her.

The banter kept going, from playfully nudging each other's arm to pushing each other, as if nothing creepy had happened earlier.

That is, until your hands grabbed the Nintendo, back on the game.

Now that the virtual and reality have united, your careless laughter could easily turn into cold-blooded fear.

Ellie mirrored your wide eyes as she spotted the visual confirmation that both of you weren't alone.

Behind her character stood something in the dark.

Something because it was indeed not a human.

Its body blended with the color of death, or perhaps it was the other way around.

The darkness's arms warmly embraced its sinister presence.

The color of its eyes was the only hue transcending through the darkness in the room.

They were red—red like pumping blood and Persephone's pomegranate. Not leaving the character’s body.

Its eyes were able to pierce through the darkness, as if its life was too fierce to be halted by death.

Because it was death itself.

Ellie's eyes turned to you instinctively, seeking confirmation that it wasn’t part of her imagination.

You returned the same gaze, but not effortlessly. This unexpected turn of events made your mind run laps of thoughts and your body freeze in place.

With the same thought, "Is it behind us?" echoing over and over, the silence grew too loud, nurturing your frightened state.

Then.

The door creaked.

The one behind you and Ellie.

Your eyes remained on hers, with fear enveloping every single last spark of excitement and amusement.

"It's just the wind, right?" you managed to whisper.

Ellie still understood you despite your shaky voice, mimicking the same tone as yours. "the windows are closed."

That wasn't the first time rationality couldn't explain the strange events around you.

You were just afraid it wouldn't be the last time either.

Suddenly, a message appeared on the screen.

As your curious eyes returned to the screen despite the fear slowly consuming you, another feeling began to take over.

"Don't. Look. Behind. You."

It was regret.

[mockerycrow]

for the 400 follower event (congrats btw!!!) could i request “stop hogging the blankets” + “do you want to stay in tonight? you don’t looked thrilled at the prospect of going out, and i only want to go if you want to as well.” w/ price??? (:

400 Follower Celebration

—“Do you want to stay in tonight? You don’t look thrilled at the prospect of going out, and I only want to go if you want to as well.” + “Stop hogging the blankets.”— With John Price

Summary: After John being gone for so long on deployment, he finally is able to take some time to be home with his partner. He promised you a date night, but he sensed you weren’t feeling up to leaving the house.

A/N: thank you so much <3 also, we are nearing 600 followers now!! i cannot thank you guys enough.

[WARNINGS: sensory issues, fluff.]

It had been 8 months and 17 days since John had last been able to stay home with you. The day he left, he promised a fantastic night with you the night he returned. At the time, he wasn’t sure when he’d make it home—or if he would’ve made it home at all. John returned extremely fatigued and late at night and after a tearful reunion, you ran a warm bath for him and went to bed together.

You couldn’t help but stare at him while he slept when you—surprisingly—woke up before him. Your eyes traced the way his eyelashes flowed, traced every worry line in his face; you reached out and gently traced them with your fingertips instead. His eyes fluttered open after only seconds, which prompted you to retract your hand and softly apologize. John hummed and reached for your hand and guided it back to his head, so very easily drifting back to sleep after knowing it was only you touching him.

Later that night was your date night and you had your outfit laid out, but you already felt uneasy as you eyed the fabric. You felt as if it would bother you, like what if you felt the seams? What if there’s loose threads and they tickle you, and they’re the type you can’t just rip off with no problem?

John comes up behind you, his hand coming up to rest on your lower back. “Feeling alright?”

You turn your head to look at him and he’s looking back at you, his eyes tracing your lips, your eyebrows, your forehead, admiring you as well as trying to figure out how you’re feeling through your expression. You try to put on your brightest smile and because you feel if you were to ask to cancel this—he’s been so excited. “I’m fine, John.” You murmur, leaning over to his cheek and pressing a kiss against it. You watch his nose scrunch up for a moment, a low hum coming from him. His arm wraps around you and holds you close, back to chest. “I know you well enough to know you aren’t, love.”

You go silent for a moment as you aren’t aware what to say as a rebuttal, but John gets to it first. “Do you want to stay in tonight? You don’t look thrilled at the prospect of going out, and I only want to go if you want to as well.”

Your lips curl up into a soft, real smile but at the same time; your face falls. You have a gritting guilt in your gut and you open your mouth to apologize, but John silences you by pressing his lips against yours. His lips move against yours slowly for a few seconds before he breaks the kiss, looking at your lips for a quick second then at your face. “None of that, okay? I already know what you were about to say and I’m saying it’s alright.”

Your smile widens into a grin because he knows you so well, so you lean forward and give him a peck on the cheek. “We could rent that movie you’ve been wanting to watch?” You suggested. “What was it, ‘The Patriot’?” John scoffs, letting you go so you can put away your clothes. “I remember you wanting to watch that one, hm? Too many inaccuracies for me,” He retorts, watching you folding up the clothing on the bed. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed, watching your every move.

“Fiiine, fine. I’ll spare you some horror for one night.” You laugh, opening your dresser drawer. “I have a movie we can watch. That one with Stephanie Hsu in it?” You suggest, closing the drawer then looking at him. John shrugs, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off of the wall. “I don’t mind. Why don’t you..” He trails off, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him while interlocking your fingers together, then pressing a quick and soft kiss against your lips. Your other hand comes up and rests on his shoulder to steady yourself, and you’re smiling into the kiss. “..make some popcorn and I’ll get the movie going, some blankets, too.”

You can’t help the soft laugh that leaves you, and you lean forward to give him another peck on the lips. “Only if you promise to stop hogging the blankets.”

“No promises, darling.”

[bliss-in-the-void]

Gege Akutami, You Do Not Understand Gojo Satoru, and Here is Why

I was reading this article to help me cope with the traumatic events of Chapter 236 when a certain portion didn’t sit right with me.

Long post, click to read the full analysis:

(this is probably the most important post I've made so far)

Now, we all know that Gege doesn’t like Gojo. They don’t make it a secret in the slightest. Which is fine in itself, as an author you are 100% within your right to hate a character you created, and I respect that—it gives dimension to the dynamic of a story.

What I don’t care for is the reasons Akutami lists for their dislike of Gojo.

Reason #1 as stated in the above blurb of the article: Gojo doesn’t have depth.

To me, this is a wild statement to make as an author, but especially as the one who wrote Gojo. Where does he lack depth? Genuine question.

I believe he is an incredibly complex character.

He is the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques, which automatically sets up so many nuances. Coupled with the fact that Akutami has stated that he grew up spoiled, that right there should tell you some things about why he is the way he is. He has a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his powers. And why wouldn’t he? From the time he was born, the people around him treated him like some sort of God. How else was he supposed to grow up? He’s told his whole life he possesses unparalleled power, and he’s going to believe that.

Even still, it really isn’t as unchecked as Akutami seems to believe it is. Despite his distaste for authority, Gojo still reports to the higher ups, goes on missions, exorcizes curses, and works collaboratively with his fellow sorcerers. If he was really the giant egomaniac Akutami argues that he is, he’d say ‘to hell with authority’ and run off to do whatever he wants like Yuki. I mean, COME ON, this guy is the most powerful modern sorcerer and he still attended all four years of high school. He could have easily never attended—who was going to stop him?

He has a peculiar sense of humor that can get inappropriately timed in certain moments, but it’s obvious that it’s a deflection and a coping mechanism for the horrors of a sorcerer’s reality. He doesn’t just joke about death and dying because he doesn’t care. He cares too much and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he suppresses and laughs it off. Moments like this are seen after Suguru dies in JJK 0 when he was clearly crying afterward, but had to put on a cheerful facade for Yuuta and the other students.

He is a very good teacher. It’s hard for a naturally gifted prodigy to effectively teach things which come automatically to them, and somehow he finds creative ways to do it. Teaching Yuuji to control cursed energy by using one of Yaga’s dolls and giving him a movie marathon? One of Yuuji’s favorite hobbies? Genius and so considerate for Yuuji. He’d just been thrown into the sorcerer world, learning all these new things, and Gojo decided to introduce a foreign concept to him through something familiar and comfortable to him. That is amazing, and the mark of a very kind, understanding teacher. He’s also really patient with his students. Yes, he gives them tough love sometimes by throwing them into missions, but it really is to make them strong. How else will they grow if they aren’t put under pressure?

His motivation for being a teacher is very selfless. He himself has stated that he isn’t suited to be a teacher, but that he has a dream to raise a generation of strong allies to prevent isolation from occurring like what had happened to Suguru. He felt guilty about growing apart from him, didn’t see the warning signs before he snapped, and regrets not being there for him more. His entire purpose now is dedicated to making sure the new wave of sorcerers have a tightly-knit network so that no one ends up alone and on a dark path like Suguru.

He constantly sticks his neck out for the helpless even when it’s far from his benefit. He paid off the Zenin clan to save Megumi, the child of the man who ruined his high school years and nearly killed him. He then raised him. He threatened the higher ups to keep Yuuta alive, and then did it again for Yuuji. He does this to preserve their youth, because his own was taken away from him. His whole life he’d been controlled by the higher ups and people around him because of who he is in the sorcerer world, so by waving his own status in front of authority to hold them back from his students, he acts as a sort of shield to take as many burdens off of their shoulders as he can so that they can remain carefree. As much as he can within his power.

With all of that being said, I really don’t understand where Akutami is coming from with lack of depth, but another argument I say to that statement is: well, you’re the author, give him the depth you think he’s missing. (Personally, I believe he’s one of the best-written characters in any anime I’ve seen).

Reason #2 is that according to Akutami, he doesn’t have a likable personality.

What about his personality is unlikable?

He is cocky, but not to the point where he stops caring about others, not to the point where he never considers how other people feel or how his actions affect other people, and not to the point where he never feels guilt and remorse about his shortcomings. Like I said, he lives his life trying to prevent his past from repeating itself, to save the fates of others.

I really don’t get it. In JJK 0, after Nitta gives her report on the shopping mall, Gojo thanks her and praises her. Would a cocky asshole do that? No. If you wanted to characterize him as unlikable, you could have made him dismiss her, or ignore her.

He makes pop culture references, he has endearing flaws like not being good at drawing, being a lightweight drinker, and overdoing it on the sweets. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s considerate…he is a very likable character.

Honestly, the self-absorption he displays when he’s fighting is probably a result of his upbringing. Being told you have so much power you have so much power you have so much power over and over again instills this belief that yes, he’s needed by Jujutsu Society to fight curses as a weapon. As. A. Weapon. The Six Eyes & Limitless user is a formidable weapon, but what about Satoru Gojo, the person? The only time he feels useful is when he’s fighting curses. That’s where he gets his self-worth. We can see that expressed in this panel, from Chapter 236:

In the second half of Gojo’s second text bubble, he says, “でもどこかで人としてというより生き物としての線引きがあったのかな”.

This translates to: “But I wonder if somewhere there was a line drawn between being a creature rather than a person.”

Rather than having drew the line himself, being constantly treated like the strongest, being handed over the difficult missions, being relied on so heavily pushed him away from other people. It distorted the perception everyone had of him, and it distorted the perception he had of himself. He also believed he could never lose because he let his human side fade into the background. The world didn't need human Satoru Gojo, they needed sorcerer Satoru Gojo, the one who could bend rules to his will with his might, the one who could exorcise any curse and save the day no matter how bad things got. Why would he remain human when that part of him was treated as non-existent? The only person who did treat him as a person with weaknesses and flaws has been dead for eleven years. Of course that voice of reason is going to fizzle out.

How can you possibly vilify him for that? It would be a disservice to everything he has had to endure his entire life.

Reason #3 and the last point I want to touch on is when the article says, "Akutami believes that much of this adoration is based solely on his striking appearance, overshadowing his more abrasive personality traits."

Okay. Where to start?

Honestly, and I know this is probably not Akutami's intention, but that comes off as so condescending. It's so presumptuous. It's as if to say we're all going "ooh look at pretty man, pretty man do no wrong because too pretty" mindlessly with dilated pupils and drool coming out of our mouths. Uh. No.

Yes, Satoru is a good-looking character, but no, that is very far from why we like him so much as a character, and it's also very far from why he's so popular. Aside from all of the points I've made above explaining why he's so universally loved, I'll make another one that isn't superficial and tired.

He's so relatable.

This is a man so incredibly traumatized by his high school years that he is mentally and emotionally unable to move on. Suguru Geto was his very best friend, and for reasons he took too long to understand, chose to abandon their friendship for his own goals. For anyone who has grown apart from a best friend, this hits so hard.

Because of his upbringing it was hard to become close to anyone. But somehow, Suguru was able to break past his walls, and for that, he became entirely too dependent on him. This is common for anyone who finds it hard to make friends and get close to others. Once someone is allowed in, you cling so hard to them and imagine them being there for your entire life. So, when they leave, you take it entirely too personally.

Everyone has a right to live their own lives, and as we see with the divergence of Suguru and Satoru, sometimes our paths aren't leading to the same place. It's not personal. But Satoru took it personal, and that's so beautifully human. When you lose a best friend who was important to you, you think "I like being around this person, they put me at ease in a way no one else does", and you assume they feel the same way about you. So when they leave and show you that no, they didn't feel the same, it hurts. It's almost as if they're saying "I actually do think you're unlovable like everyone else, that's why no one likes you, you are too much."

Someone you thought was safe, isn't anymore.

That is such a relatable thing to watch a character go through! Especially someone as awe-inspiring and charismatic as Gojo! As an audience, we think, "he's just like me!" and we like him for it.

So, as I stated in the title, Gege Akutami, you don't understand Satoru Gojo at all. I commend you for writing such an amazing, iconic, universally loved character, but I will never understand nor respect the superficial way in which you perceive him.