#we’re totally flocked

[summerwages]

white fir..abies concolor..

[nanamis-angel]

𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ♡︎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ You and Suguru have been dating in secret and it hasn't been easy but it's totally worth it. So, while at a party, Suguru slips away to see you, not thinking anyone is around. But just how long does it take Satoru and Shoko to figure out what's going on?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ suguru x fem!reader, fluff, making out (oop), you and suguru get caught kissing (losers lol), suguru is annoyed, satoru is the annoyer ™, shoko is a girls girl, yaga mention.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 2.1k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ was literally in class when I got this idea so I started writing it in my notebook. i'm shameless (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y).

“You could have practically any girl here, Suguru and yet you keep ignoring them all!” Gojo exclaimed at his best friend. The two of them, along with you and Shoko were at a house party of a friend. And despite his flirty personality, he noticed that a lot of the girls their age seemed to flock to Suguru. Yet he ignored their advances every single time.

“I’m just not interested,” Geto replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

Satoru scoffed. “C’mon, you can’t possibly be serious. We’re at a party, have some fun! It’s not like Yaga is breathing down our necks right now or anything.”

But again, Suguru shook his head. “Knock yourself out, I’ll pass.” He shrugged it off.

Up until a couple of months ago, the two boys would go out and meet plenty of girls and would just have fun. But as of late, Suguru had just been ignoring any girls who came his way. Politely, of course, but he always made sure that they knew he was simply uninterested. Gojo would watch as Suguru would turn them away, his jaw agape. He simply couldn’t understand it.

Truth was, Suguru had been dating you for the past couple of months but the two of you had mutually decided to keep it a secret for the first little bit. You were still navigating relationships and you wanted that aspect of privacy. Suguru, of course, wanted to give it to you. But that did make seeing each other quite difficult.

At first, Suguru had no desire to attend these parties anymore. Knowing that he’d be approached by the girls there. But Satoru begged him every time, not knowing about his relationship with you. You didn’t want Suguru to miss out on the fun and told him to go anyway. So, he did. He’d just turn away any girl who’d come his way.

Especially since you wanted to keep things on the down low, he couldn’t just tell these girls that he had a girlfriend without the possibility of the word getting out to your friends.

Satoru glanced at two girls who had their eyes set on him. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged off before putting on a flashy grin and walking towards the girls.

The moment Satoru was distracted, Suguru let out a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he groaned. “That should keep him busy for a while.”

Now was finally his time to slip away—to slip away and find you. You had wandered off with Shoko ten minutes ago and he was already itching to see you again. He pulled out his phone and texted you.

“Where are you and Shoko?”

Moments later, your text popped up on his screen. “Don’t know where Shoko went but I’m down near the bathroom.”

Suguru smiled at your message—finally, he could just be with you alone, even if it was just for a minute. He made his way through the house, ignoring anyone and everyone he walked past. He just wanted to see you and he was determined to do so.

Turning around the corner, Suguru saw you in the hallway, leaning against one of the walls and his face lit up. Shoko was nowhere in sight, and neither was anyone else, just you. He understood you wanted to keep the relationship a secret but boy did it make things hard sometimes.

“There you are,” He said, walking up to you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, and his chin was propped up on your shoulder. “Felt like I was going to suffocate back there.” He mumbled.

You chuckled a little. “That bad, huh?” You asked him with playful empathy.

Suguru nodded his head. “Satoru can’t take a hint that I’m not interested in any of the girls here. But I can’t just outright say why.” He sighed. Keeping your relationship a secret was hard—especially from his best friend.

Mr. “Six eyes sees all, nosey, and in everyone’s business Satoru Gojo” was hard to keep a secret from. Especially when he didn’t understand why Suguru was so uninterested in the girls around him all of a sudden.

There was no rule in school saying you couldn’t date other students—however, Yaga viewed relationships in school as a distraction and while if he found out you and Suguru were together, he couldn’t do much about it, he would just make it very obvious that he didn’t approve. Which in turn, would just make things awkward.

So, all of this together was the reason why your relationship was so private and secret.

“But now… I don’t have to deal with any of these pesky people.” Suguru grinned down at you. Within seconds, he pulled you into one of the rooms right by the bathroom, just so he could kiss you in private—away from everyone else, hoping nobody would come stumbling across the two of you.

Putting far too much faith that no one would, Suguru didn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he got straight to it, not wasting any time by pressing his lips against yours. You were a little taken aback by the sudden kiss and his eagerness but you reciprocated with fervor.

It had been hard having to sneak around all the time to do something as easy and simple as kissing; like conveniently going to the bathrooms around the same time while in class—or saying you were going to get some of the cursed weapons from the shed and Suguru would offer to “come help” you every time.

Needless to say, he was making up for all of the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. He understood and respected your wishes to keep things private but boy were there enough times when he wanted to kiss you, no matter who was around.

His hands slipped from your back, down to your hips, giving them a firm but gentle squeeze. The only time you pulled away was to catch a breath, only for you to reconnect your lips with his moments later. With his hands still on your hips, he pulled you closer, kissing you harder.

Suguru was a great kisser—granted you had no one to compare him to since he was your first boyfriend but he made you feel alive every single time. He was the epitome of an amazing boyfriend. Respectful, sweet, with just the right amount of playfulness. You swore you could love him forever.

You don’t even remember when you fell for him but you were so glad you did.

But before you could continue, you heard a very familiar voice near the doorway, which caused you both to freeze right in your tracks. “Am I interrupting something?”

It was Shoko, standing in the doorway with a little mischievous grin on her face. You finally pulled away from Suguru, your face as red as a tomato and your eyes as wide as ever. “S-Shoko! Where—how’d you get here?” You asked, stumbling over your words.

“Smoke break in the bathroom,” She said, holding up a cigarette.

Of course, a smoke break. In the bathroom. In the bathroom right next to the room, you were just making out with Suguru in. Suguru mentally cursed himself for not closing the door all the way. At least that would’ve given you a second or two to pull away from each other and make things look normal.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Shoko asked, clearly not giving up on her curiosity.

“Um,” You looked at the ground for a moment. “About three and a half months…”

Shoko looked a little surprised. “Wow, that long? I always assumed something was going on between the two of you but I didn’t know you were together—especially for that long already.” She replied. It was decently impressive, given how strict and nosey Yaga was. Not to mention how nosey Satoru was. “And whose idea was it to keep this a secret for so long?”

Suguru pointed at you almost immediately and Shoko let out a snort at his quickness, provoking you to roll your eyes. Shoko’s eyes moved to Suguru. “And just where is Satoru?” She asked, knowing that the two of them were practically attached at the hip on nights like these.

Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s occupied talking to some girls who were flirting with him earlier.” He answered, feeling slightly bad that he had just dipped. “I took that as a chance to come find [name].”

Shoko’s lips tugged into a grin as she looked you up and down; your lips were still slightly swollen from the passionate kisses you had just shared. “I can see that.” She teased.

Shoko had been your best friend ever since attending school but for some reason, you wanted to die of embarrassment. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a little ball and blip out of existence. It was pretty embarrassing when you were caught making out with someone, even if it was your best friend who caught you.

“Honestly? I’m just impressed you two managed to keep this a secret for so long.” She said, crossing her arms. “Yaga-sensei is practically breathing down our necks most days and Gojo is awfully nosey.”

“Trust me, it hasn’t been easy,” Suguru muttered under his breath, earning a quick glance from you.

“You’re not going to tell Yaga, are you?” You asked Shoko. Shoko wasn’t a snitch—you knew that much but there was a little anxiety in the back of your mind that word might somehow get out to your teacher and make things awkward in places like the classroom.

“You won’t hear a word from me,” Shoko replied.

You let out a relieved sigh and smiled but it got you wondering why you were even anxious to say something about your relationship before. You reached out and your fingers laced with Suguru’s and he squeezed your hand.

However, just moments later, you heard footsteps coming from behind Shoko and towards the doorway to the room. It was Satoru, stumbling over after hearing your voices. “Is Suguru over here? He just disappeared.” He said, his voice slightly dazed.

But his slight daze immediately went away when he saw you standing right next to Suguru, your hand in his. “Ooooohhh what’s going on here?” He teased, leaning his arm on Shoko’s shoulder. It was pretty obvious what was going on. He had observed enough, and Suguru had talked about you enough to know that you liked each other at the very least.

Shoko rolled him off her shoulder and you narrowed your eyes at Satoru. You knew it was practically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut about certain things and you weren’t taking any chances.

“Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut.” You said firmly. You almost sounded like a mother scolding a young child.

“Okay fine,” He groaned, knowing there was no use in fighting you. He could tease or annoy Suguru all day but you were definitely not the girl he wanted to cross. You were not as forgiving as your boyfriend was. “How come I’m the last one to know about this though?” He looked at Suguru, feigning humorous offense.

Suguru began to walk towards the door, your hand still in his. There was no use in trying to hide anything around Shoko and Satoru anymore, so why would he? “Because you have trouble keeping quiet about certain things.” He replied to Satoru as he passed by him. “AKA you have a big mouth.”

Shoko just snickered, following you and Suguru out of the room. “What? What do you mean?” Satoru exclaimed, following behind the three of you. “I can keep a secret! I promise. C’mon you guys I’m not that bad!”

“Name one secret you’ve kept,” You said, looking back at him over your shoulder.

Satoru hesitated as if he was trying to think of one he could say. But then he crossed his arms and turned his nose up. “Well, I can’t say them because they’re a secret, obviously.”

Although this was obviously not true, it earned around of laughs from the three of you as you returned to the party. Even though this wasn’t how you planned your night to go, part of you was quite relieved that you no longer had to hide your relationship with Suguru around Shoko and Satoru. It felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders.

And Suguru? He was the most relieved out of all of them.

And he definitely kissed you a lot that night.

[wandagcre]

drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!

[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]

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Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.

You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows. 

The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.

At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts. 

Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.

To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.

Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area. 

Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.

“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.

“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”

“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”

“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well. 

You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.

Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind. 

“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”

She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”

You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.

You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.

“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.

“I sense that there’s a but…”

Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.

It was the devil herself. 

Sam.

Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.

Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.

Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.

Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with. 

“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself. 

The ringing eventually stopped.

“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.

After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips. 

“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.

You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face. 

Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.

You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still. 

Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.

The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.

Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.

Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?

Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical. 

It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up. 

Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further. 

::

How many hours has it been? 

You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place. 

But wait. 

You've been here before.

In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.

"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.

Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.

How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?

"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"

Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion. 

She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.

"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."

Then comes the panic.

You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.

Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.

"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."

Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.

"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"

"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."

And it swiftly shifts to anger. 

A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic. 

But oh, Sam could never hurt you.

"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"

Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.

"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.

Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways. 

"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"

"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."

You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.

"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."

Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.

"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"

You blinked rapidly.

"It- It wasn't like that—"

"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time. 

Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.

"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.

If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.

Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her. 

"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."

He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.

"You've been following me around?"

Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?" 

You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"

"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.

"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you. 

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."

Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.

"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."

It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.

"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face. 

She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.

"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”

You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation. 

You were never good at dealing with them.

Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.

"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.

You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.

When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.

"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder. 

And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again. 

Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.

Sam decided that she was going to create her own.

"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?" 

You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.

"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"

"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."

Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you. 

"What's so fair about that?"

"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.

"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.

Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips. 

“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”

You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.

"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied. 

"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you. 

You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.

"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”

Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.

"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again." 

"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.

She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.

"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."

It made you tense up underneath Sam.

"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.

Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.

"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for. 

Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.

The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.

Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.

It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—

"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.

Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)." 

She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.

You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.

Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.

“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam. 

She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”

“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.

Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.

“Arch your back for me.”

As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes. 

She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her. 

Only for her and it should always stay that way.

She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.

Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.

“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”

You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.

Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.

“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs. 

You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.

“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).” 

With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight. 

Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you. 

Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.

“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”

Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.

No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.

“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”

She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.

“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”

You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.

“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.

“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.

“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.” 

As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.

You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.

“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”

“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.

“No, not just yet.”

Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever. 

There’s no escaping her now.

You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.

“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”

With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.

This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.

“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air. 

“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”

“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”

The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.

“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words. 

She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension. 

“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.

“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed. 

“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”

Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.

Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless. 

Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.

With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.

The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.

The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.

“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.

Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.

::

While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam. 

Isn’t that terrible?

You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”

The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.

“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you. 

Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated. 

Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.

She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.

Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for. 

“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”

“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.

You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”

The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.

No!

You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp. 

Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.

You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.

Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.

Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it. 

She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you. 

Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—

What?

Now, you were thoroughly confused.

You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you. 

No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.

“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.

“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?” 

Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion. 

“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”

You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”

“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”

“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.

Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.” 

Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.

You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”

“A booty call?”

Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.

“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”

Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.

Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.

“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.

“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”

She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.

Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work. 

“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.

Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.

"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."

“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.

She shook her head. “No, just you.”

Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways. 

She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.

It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.

“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.

How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?

With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully. 

“Yes, you are.”

Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.

Sam laughed. “That good?” 

“Shut up.”

“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”

And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.

::

It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.

The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters. 

You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.

To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.

Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.

You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts. 

“Miss me already?”

“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right. 

Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”

You almost snorted because of course, she would. 

Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.” 

You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.

“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.

The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”

“Good…” 

Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut. 

It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…

You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”

A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what. 

It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.

She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.

The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex. 

“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy.  “Give me a good reason,”

Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.

“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”

How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.

“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”

With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back. 

“Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”

Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.

“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”

The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.

Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.

As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.

Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you. 

Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.

::

Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.

You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold. 

“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.

“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.

Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her. 

“Oh and I’m broody?”

You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."

“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”

With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman. 

She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.

::

Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.

What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.

Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.

Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.

Although, a car was already waiting for you outside. 

“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.

She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.

She laced your hands together. “How was work?”

“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”

“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”

“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.

“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.

Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.

“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.” 

“That for real?” your eyes went wide.

“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”

A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work. 

What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.

You blurt out, “That’s hot.”

“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.

You simply shrugged and soon yawned.

“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”

It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state. 

“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.

She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to. 

Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.

And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.

You can get used to this.

:: 

"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.

You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."

"So smooth with your words."

"I've learned from the best."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.

That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.

Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.

"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."

Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.

Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.

What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.

Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”

“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”

“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”

It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her. 

You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.

Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.

Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you. 

“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.

“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”

“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”

You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.

Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body. 

“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”

Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.

Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself. 

Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.

Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”

“N-no, but–”

“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”

Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.

Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.

She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point. 

It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.

As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips. 

When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?

One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.

With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.

You only needed her and she was more than enough.

::

"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."

Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.

You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.

Terribly cocky too.

Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.

Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.

She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”

“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.

“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”

Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!” 

Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.

Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.

“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”

“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.

Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.

It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.

However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?

She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.

 “Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”

“Oh, do I?”

You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.

“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.

Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.

“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.

Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”

Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.

Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.

“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”

You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“Yes, please…Sam,”

“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”

“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.

Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.

Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.

What you want, is what you’ll get.

You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.

“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”

Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.

Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.

Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.

"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.

“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.

Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well. 

You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”

Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.

“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.

“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.

Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.

A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.

“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.

You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses. 

“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”

With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.

To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin. 

“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do. 

She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.

You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.

“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.

“Y-yes,”

Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.

Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.

Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.

"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”

"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”

Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours. 

"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."

Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him. 

But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.

She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight. 

Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here." 

Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.

Definitely so wet and turned on.

Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded. 

"What the hell was that?"

"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.

"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did. 

She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.

Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.

Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.

“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.

Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.

Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.

taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[evilgwrl]

hey sunshine 🥰 could you possibly do the 141 with a hyper independent reader? id love to see how they handle a s/o like this!! if not, i totally understand 💜💜 enjoy your sunday

Ofc!! I hope this is what you were looking for, I'm not the most educated on hyper-independence but I tried to do a lil research <3 Sorry it took me so long to write it, I've been having a hectic week

Your feet strummed against the floor; body restless as you looked at the flock of emails piling up. Fidgety hands were tugging at your hair as you looked at the time. Your laptop shut with a huff as you walked into the kitchen, eager to eat as your stomach grumbled.

There was a soft shell of steam covering the room, food broiling in the oven as you turned your attention to the chopping board. You swore quickly, the smell of burning sauce catching your attention as you turned to quickly stir it. Your body swayed back and forth, constantly focusing on something new as you struggled to keep up.

You had a strict schedule, always needing to be on top of everything. You enjoyed the smiles on the boy’s faces when they came through the door to a cooked meal. It was different today, however. Work had finished later than usual, pushing your activity back as the boys walked through the door.

“Hey, bonnie,” Soap flattered, pressing a kiss to your head as he looked at the kitchen, every saucer in use.

“Hi,” you smiled, swatting his hands away as he attempted to stir something.

“Smells good, love,” John cooed, husky breath against your neck as he hugged you from behind.

“I’ll set up the dining table,” Kyle chirped as you quickly yelped at a ‘no’.

“No, no. I’ve got it. Just go sit down. It’s nearly done.”

Simon raised a brow, taking in your quick no. They knew you enjoyed working alone, it just seemed easier for you, but the scene before him was overwhelming to look at as you rubbed at your forehead, pulling something out of the oven.

“We’re happy to help, sweet’art, just let-“

“No, no, I promise its fine. Please just go sit down.”

You were consistent as you shushed them out of the kitchen with a handtowel, turning your attention back to the scene in front of you. Soap frowned as he sat down, resting his chin in his hand.

“She’s gonna work ‘erself to death,” Simon scowled, concerned.

“You know how she is, she’s independent,” Gaz quipped, rubbing a brow.

You were a flurry, piling food onto the plates before they grew cold. You were quick to place all their plates down and hurry back, grabbing a stack of cutlery and cups, the glass pile slightly tipped. John raised from his seat to assist you as you pulled back, offering him a gentle smile.

“Let me help, dove.”

“I’ve got it, I don’t need help,” you spoke quickly as you moved too fast, the glasses tipping over as they clattered against the floor, shards of crystal collecting at your feet as you hissed, the four men surrounding you quickly raising to their feet.

Your legs padded against the floor as you hurried to the kitchen to grab a dustpan from under the sink, Soap quickly in toe. It was overwhelming as they crowded around you, trying to grab the scoop from your fidgety hands before you snapped, “I don’t need your help, just eat your food.”

Your tone was harsh as they stilled, staring at you with concern. Your face felt hot, unshed tears welling in your eyes at the situation. The glass collected in the black box, flickers of shimmer dancing off the sharp shards as you grabbed your own plate, heading to your bedroom.

You weren’t sure where it came from, the need to never ask for help but it ate at you until your body was scolding with overworked heat. The night ticked by slowly as you cooped yourself up in the warmth of your sheets, only getting up to clean as you walked to the kitchen, no mess in sight.

“I hope you don’t mind that we cleaned up, figured you had done enough for us today,” Price’s voice was soft, a glide of comfort slipping from his tongue as he placed his hand’s on his hips.

“I could’ve done it.”

“I know, we all know. But we’re here too, love. It’s not fair for you to take on every load of responsibility. You deserve help. We’re not going anywhere, and we want to show you that we appreciate you too.”

The words settled in your chest as you stared at him, placing the plate in the sink as you offered him a polite glance, attempting to wrap around everything he was saying.

“Thank you,” you said, eyes low as you began to wash. The tickle of hair was felt around your waist, along with two arms as Kyle pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

“We want to help you, love. You don’t need to go through anything alone, we’re here to support you the way you support us.”

You swallowed deeply.

“We don’t want to overwhelm you either, we just want our girl to feel the best she can,” Price spoke.

It was harder for you to talk about your feelings, your heart chained in between your rib cage, the need to ask for help always at the tip of your tongue but never able to leave, keeping you prisoner to your own despair. The boys left you for a little bit, asking you to join them in the living room when you were ready. There was a gentle pit of anxiety in your stomach as you huffed, ensuring everything had been done before you joined them.

It was a sweet sight to walk into. They were spread on the couch, reassuring smiles on their faces as Soap held his hands out towards the table, a chocolate cake decorated with the words ‘Thank you’ on it along with a bouquet of pink peonies.

You laughed, “When did you have time to get all this?”

“I’m quick,” Ghost beamed, tapping the spot between them as you huddled over.

“Thank you,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks. It was hard for you to comprehend you had people wanting to help you, and you knew they would never be able to understand what it was like for you, but they tried their hardest, and that was the greatest gift you could ask for.

“Can I eat some cake now?” Soap chorused as you laughed, rubbing the back of his head before nestling into Kyle.

[screamforyani]

make you proud

pairing ↠ gf!ethan x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ angst, smut, macher!reader, mc has a panic attack, violence/character death, logically mc would be around sam’s age but we’re gonna ignore logic for the sake of you being a fresh college student

summary ↠ after your boss is killed in a ghostface attack and your deepest, darkest secret gets out, your life is flipped upside-down. the whole world knows that you’re stu macher’s illegitimate daughter now and the worst part is that even your friends suspect you might be a killer.

wc ↠ 9.0k

for whatever reason, you were indescribably antsy today. 

for all of three fleeting minutes, you convinced yourself that nothing was amiss and chalked it up to being excessively paranoid, which sounded like you. but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right. 

meandering down the pavement of blackmore’s perfectly trimmed courtyard, your worries were later rationalized when some random guy walking just shy of you with his friend randomly exclaimed for all the campus to hear, “yo, dude, look out - it’s that killer!”

you were baffled, but they didn’t give you much room for a reaction before a flock of students crowded you, several of them taking out their phones. one girl dangled her phone in your face and asked, “what’s it like being a psycho bitch?”

you barked, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“uh, oh. better run before she fucks around and stabs one of us,” suggested her friend, just before the two of them laughed and darted away from you like you were dangerous.

“what the fuck?” you mumbled under your breath, more than a little perplexed. 

the crowd around you was beginning to build up and that (much to your dismay), combined by the number of phones filming your every move, was making you incredibly anxious.

“thanks, i think we’ve got it from here,” announced a familiar voice from behind you, and before you knew it, someone was pulling you away from the crowd of people.

when you turned your head, you realized that it was no other than chad. 

mindy was right beside him and immediately groaned, “god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“looking for me for what?” you asked, having not a clue as to what was happening, but you did have a really bad feeling about whatever it was. “what’s going on?”

mindy gave you a look. “haven’t you seen the news?”

you hissed, “does it look like i watch the news?”

“well, maybe now would be a great time to start,” mindy retorted, grabbing your other arm as she escorted you away with her brother as if you were a wanted criminal.

“i still don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

“we’ll tell you when we get to sam and tara’s,” chad said, feigning some semblance of calm.

the ride to sam and tara’s was nothing short of suffocating and nerve-racking. when their tall, gaunt apartment finally came into view and chad and mindy briskly escorted you upstairs, everyone stood to flat feet, hairs raised, looking at you with total dread and consternation. sam and tara were obviously there, alongside their roommate, quinn, mindy’s girlfriend, anika, and your friend, ethan, who also happened to be chad’s roommate.

tara was the first to speak before you could demand an explanation and exclaimed, “when were you going to tell us that you’re stu’s daughter?”

your heart dropped, but you tried to play dumb, glancing around and laughing nervously. “what?”

chad pointed to the television while mindy grabbed the remote control and turned it up for you to hear. there was a photo of your and sam’s shared boss on the screen, the headlines reporting that he had been found murdered at your job in the late, dead hours of last night.

the newscaster reported, “a pair of ghostface costumes were found at the scene, a character popularized by the stab movie franchise. also found at the scene were the driver’s license of sam carpenter, who you may remember from the tragic ghostface incident last year in woodsboro, and the birth certificate of…,” she said your name. “which reveals her father to be no other than stu macher.”

the rest of her words went in one ear and out the other as you were filled with immediate dread and panic. your heart started to feel taut in your chest as everything else around you became white noise and your grip on the reins of reality began to slacken.

“is she okay?”

“no, fuckward, does she look okay?”

“she’s having a panic attack,” ethan said worriedly, having - unlike the others - been here before. he swiftly came to your side and held you, looking into your eyes as he reassured gently, “hey, look at me. remember to breathe. everything will be okay.”

you nodded your head, but you felt as if you were going to die any second now. you tried to listen to ethan, soothed by his presence.

“okay, good. i’m going to take you to the couch now so that you can sit down,” ethan said slowly. “is that okay?”

“yes,” you whispered, chest heaving.

ethan slowly walked you to the couch and asked tara to get you a glass of water. he tried to offer you a pillow to hold but you denied it, reaching for his hand instead.

he gave you a saccharine smile and squeezed your hand, “i’m right here with you, okay? we’re at sam and tara’s apartment and it’s just the eight of us. nothing is going to happen to you, i promise. just remember to breathe.”

just as you nodded your head, tara came back with a glass of water that you accepted with a quiet thanks and sipped from. ethan let go of your shaky hand, which made you panic for a moment, but he patted your back and assured you that he wasn’t going anywhere, encouraging you to drink with both hands while the others asked how they could help.

after a solid five more minutes, you’d essentially calmed down from your attack, but you felt completely drained. not to mention terrified beyond belief. everyone gave you some reassuring words out of the kindness of their hearts, but it wasn’t enough.

anika gave you a compassionate smile. “do you have panic attacks often?”

“no, not really. sporadically. the last time was maybe eight months ago, and ethan was there, so he, uh, knows what to do now,” you explained softly, somewhat awkward. having panic attacks in front of groups of people was never exactly fun.

sam crouched down in front of you. “you’re stu macher’s daughter.”

“and you’re the daughter of billy loomis,” you replied blankly.

for a second, you and sam just stared at each other, eyes filled mutual understanding. cursed recognized cursed.

chad asked, “did you know?”

“of course, i knew,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “i’ve always known. i was trying to make sure nobody else knew.”

“well, now the whole world knows, and someone is trying to pin our boss’ murder on us. people are saying that we’re working as a team to continue the legacy of our fathers,” sam told you, which made the ordeal in the courtyard make a whole lot more sense, but not any easier to cope with.

quinn’s brows furrowed. “but how did they get your driver’s license and her birth certificate?”

“probably because of somebody with close access to them,” mindy suggested, panning her view cynically over to quinn. “like you.”

quinn made a face. “okay, but she-” quinn gestured to you with her shoulder. “-lives alone. i steal that too?”

mindy shrugged. “i don’t know. maybe you have a partner. someone who’s always at her place, like, i don’t know, ethan.”

“i come over to help her study,” ethan explained, eyes widening at the accusation. 

“right,” mindy drawled. “and where are you when she goes to the bathroom - or steps out the room?”

“mindy, i didn’t even know where my own birth certificate was before all of this,” you said, massaging your temple. “i’m sure i would know if he was rammaging the place if i stepped away for three minutes.”

sam interjected, running a hand through her raven-black hair, “you guys, this isn’t helping. i say go home, travel in groups, and we regroup later.”

sam’s word was more or less final, so the five of you obediently did as told. ethan told you that he’d see you tomorrow night for studying which made mindy roll her eyes and tug you along with her and anika. fortunately enough, you and anika lived in the same apartment complex, so mindy would walk with you two and spend the night with her girlfriend.

you made it back inside without any ghostface attacks. locking your door behind you, you heaved a breath and went to take a shower. 

steaming, hot water beated down your body, covering your skin in little rivulets while the mist rose like shrouds above your head. all you could think about was how the secret you’d dedicated your whole life to protecting had finally slipped. what happens in the dark always comess to light, they said.

it was overwhelming. you had the blood of stu macher flowing through you, a man who took many lives before yours, and now you were being accused of continuing his wicked legacy. which meant that not only would nobody ever look at you the same again, but there was an actual killer out there that had gotten close enough to you to steal your birth certificate.

deep down inside, you knew that it was one of those seven.

the following night, ethan sent you a text informing you that he couldn’t make it and apologized, softening the message with a cute emoji. 

you thought nothing of it and typed back, okay, all 296 of my highlighters will still be here whenever you’re ready. yes, i counted. i demand you return the other four you stole.

yes, ma’am, replied ethan a couple minutes later with a salute emoji that made you giggle.

seriously, though. be safe, you typed. 

your phone buzzed in your hand just as you prepared to set it down. i will, but don’t worry about me. i’ll take care of both of us.

you hearted his text and told him goodnight, all while wearing the stupidest smile on your face.

which was erased the next morning when your tv was playing (given the circumstances, you took mindy’s advice and started watching the news) and something in you fractured when you saw something about a ghostface attack at sam and tara’s apartment. you swiped up your keys and scurried to your car, making a beeline for their apartment complex.

you slipped through yellow tape, spotting some of the gang and asking, “what the hell happened?”

“back. the fuck. up,” mindy snarled, looking at you like you were a deformed beast. 

“what?” you whispered, confused. you glanced at chad and tara. “i just heard the news. i came right away. i wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”

“well, look at us. we’re fine. there, you can go,” mindy retorted with disdain. 

just as you were about to speak, ethan came from behind the yellow tape, calling, “chad.” 

that was when chad left his post at and paraded toward ethan with long, quick strides and slammed him into an emergency vehicle, shouting, “where the fuck were you?”

ethan’s eyes widened. “what - when?”

“don’t play dumb with me, man. you disappear and my sister almost gets killed!”

“he was with me!” you shouted, coming up to them and trying to pry chad off of ethan. “okay? we had to study, remember?”

chad’s grasp on ethan slackened as he glanced at you, but he didn’t let go. “and he was with you the whole night?”

“yes,” you lied through your teeth. 

chad pressed, “then why didn’t you show up together? did he leave?”

“we did show up together. i told him to stay in the car,” you said, glaring at ethan to really sell your tale. “see what happens when you don’t follow instructions?”

ethan faltered, glancing towards the ground. “i’m sorry.” 

chad released him, backing away. “fuck, man.”

ethan glanced into the alleyway, wincing. “oh my god - who?”

“anika,” chad exhaled, walking back towards the ambulance. “and quinn.”

something violent twisted in your chest.

you watched ethan go up to mindy and heard her say something about the both of you being at the top of her list, but it was all white noise to you. your heart was taut with guilt, given that you had lied for ethan in spite of having no clue of his whereabouts when you two were meant to be studying. 

there was a reason you did it, though - logical or not. you just genuinely didn’t believe your best friend was a murderer. you’d known him for a year, six months before the core four came to manhattan. regardless of wherever he was, you doubted it was on a murder spree, and you covered for him solely because you didn’t want him to have to go through being interrogated.

merely minutes later, sam and tara came back with gale and kirby and all of you ended up in some place down an alley that apparently belonged to some kids in mindy’s film studies class.

“it’s a theater,” tara said when the lights flickered on after you all got through the intricate security. 

“not just a theater,” gale said. “it’s a shrine.”

that was when you noticed the rest of the room and the screen lifted up, revealing nine different mannequins in ghostface costumes.

the eight of you ventured around the room, walking around in awe. everyone gravitated towards something different - kirby to charlie walker’s knife, gale to drawings of dewey, mindy and chad to randy meek’s shirt, and sam to billy loomis’ ghostface case.

likewise, you were beside a mannequin that sported your father’s infamous red robe.

“they’ve got the whole goddamn franchise,” mindy marveled. 

“how’d they get this stuff?” asked tara. “i mean, isn’t this evidence?”

“well, cops like money, and evidence can get lost pretty easily,” gale explained. “present company excluded, of course.”

ethan asked, “uh, why am i here exactly? my alibi checks out.”

“so i can keep an eye on you, roomie,” chad said, shooting ethan a smile. 

mindy made a V with her fingers and darted them between her eyes and ethan.

“the TV that killed stu macher,” kirby said to mindy, sitting beside her. 

your eyes locked on the infamous television. you’d obviously heard of it - there were many stories about your father’s death - but seeing it up-close was an entirely different experience and you didn’t know how to feel.

“hey,” ethan said.

you jolted out of your reverie, glancing to your side to spot ethan standing beside you. 

“sorry,” he whispered. “i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“it’s fine,” you said, stepping away from your father’s robe. you were curious, but you didn’t want anyone getting the wrong vibe.

ethan whispered, “you didn’t have to lie for me earlier.”

“you really wanna talk about this now?”

“chad can watch me all he wants. they can’t hear us,” ethan said under his breath.

“listen,” you said softly, glancing at the glass case rather than making direct eye contact with him to avoid raising suspicion. “i only did what i did because you’re not a killer and i didn’t want you to go through an avoidable min-terogation.”

ethan’s lips twitched into a grin. “thank you.”

“we’re best friends,” you told him, in spite of the wrenching feeling of your heart at your own words. “you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“i’d do anything for you. die for you.” kill for you, was what he really wanted to say, but he was playing it safe. “anything.”

it was ridiculous how much you wanted him and how much deeper you fell for him at those words.

but the lies didn’t stop there. and with more lies came more deluding yourself. ethan would make plans with you then sometimes drop them at the last minute, coincidentally all on the exact same nights your friends would get attacked. mindy, who’d you been getting closer with prior to the new ghostface killing spree, didn’t even want to talk to you anymore unless it was to accuse you of being a murderer.

which you couldn’t hold against her, but it made you sad. you were many things, but a killer wasn’t one of them. sam was practically the only one interested in having one-on-one conversations with you anymore.

“listen,” sam said, holding a cigarette. “i trust you. if nobody else understands you, i do.”

that meant something to you. “thanks.”

“but,” sam started, making you frown as your eyes locked on the buzzing city around you. there were cars speeding every which way, whipping by in a colorful blur. “i think you should keep your distance from ethan.”

your lips curled into a scowl. “you don’t trust him.”

sam said nothing, just letting out a sigh. 

“he’s been with me,” you lied, giving her a stern look. 

“i’m not saying that he hasn’t,” sam told you calmly, meeting your eyes. “i’m just saying it’s weird that every time the group has a near-death encounter with ghostface you two are coincidentally always together. that’s all.”

that was the same conclusion you’d reached a long time ago, but you didn’t want to believe that your best friend was a serial killer. much less that he would dare hurt your friends.

“i was in love before i met danny, you know. with richie,” sam spoke up after a lull of silence.

“yeah, the ghostface that was working with amber freeman, i know. you told me,” you reminded her, raising a brow. “why are you bringing that up?”

“because it’s no secret that you have feelings for ethan.”

your eyes flickered. “i’m not-”

“you are,” sam finished. “in love with him. but love is blind. if i didn’t have feelings for richie, i might’ve realized what was going on sooner, but i did. and i don’t want you to make that same mistake that almost cost me my sister.”

you sucked in a breath. hot tears pricked your eyes, threatening to cascade. you’d considered that you might have had feelings for ethan, but hearing it aloud really solidified things. you were out of your mind in love with your best friend who may or may not have been a killer, and that was why you covered his tracks without a second thought.

“please,” sam whispered, looking at you with desperation in your eyes. “if there’s anything you’re not telling us that could help, tell me. i understand.”

“ethan’s not a killer.”

“are you convincing me or yourself?”

“ethan’s not a killer,” you said with a little more vigor, but a lot less confidence. “i’ve known him since last year and i think i would know if my best friend had murderous tendencies.”

sam said your name, but with one glance at the clock you were already throwing on your coat and heading towards the front door. “i’ve got to go meet him,” you announced, turning on your heels for a second. “i’ll send you a pic or something to prove that he was there if that’s what you want.”

then you left. 

ethan was already inside your apartment when you got there, which wasn’t alarming because you’d given him a spare key a couple of months prior to this fiasco. likewise, you knew where he hid the spare to his and chad’s apartment.

“hey,” ethan said when he saw you enter the living room, glancing up from his phone. “i didn’t start the movie.”

“i see that,” you said, taking out your phone from your pocket. “do me a favor and look cute while i take a quick picture of you.”

ethan covered his face when he saw you pointing your phone at him. “what? you can’t do that - i’m camera shy!”

“oh, please,” you droned. “basically everyone thinks that you’re fucking ghostface and i wanted to have a picture of you ready to go just in case someone gets attacked. again.��

“to prove that i’m not ghostface?”

you mocked, “now you’re getting it!”

ethan rolled his eyes. then, he sobered, staring at you emptily. “what if i am ghostface?”

“what?” 

“i mean, what if mindy’s right - what if i’m… dangerous,” he said, rising to his feet. you were rooted in place when he crept towards you. “i’m always coincidentally missing during the attacks, and everyone thinks i’m with you, but we both know that that isn’t true.”

you could hear your heart thumping in your ears, getting louder with every step he took forward until he’d backed you into a wall, effectively caging you like an animal. “don’t you ever wonder where i am?”

you shook your head. 

“you’re such a liar. a very pretty liar,” ethan whispered, lips curling into a wicked grin. warmth spread through your chest. ethan thinks i’m pretty. “speaking of which - why do you lie for me? i mean, i don’t even have to ask.”

“because you’re not a killer and i want to save everyone time,” you told him, though your voice had completely lost all thunder and confidence.

ethan groaned, throwing his head back. “okay, this excuse was cute the first couple of times, but i’m bored now. i need you to come up with something else.”

“it’s the truth,” you whispered. 

“no, it’s not. and you wanna know what i think?” asked ethan, curling your hair around his finger. “i think it’s because you like me.”

your throat went dry and you shook your head. 

“no?” ethan asked, cocking his head to the side. “well, i have to admit that i like you. i know we’re just best friends and all, but… would it be so bad if we were more?”

there was a record scratch in your head. ethan liked you?

something switched in you. all rational thinking was officially off the table. you were now consumed by months-worth of pining that was rotting you from the inside out like a spoiled apple, and something made you raise on the tips of your toes, meeting your lips to ethan’s.

ethan was surprised for a split second at your boldness, then chuckled, trapping you in his arms. it was a reckless kiss, full of mutual longing and hair-pulling, and groaning. you tangled your fingers through his long, curly tresses while his found purchase at your hips, holding you tight as ever.

“i want you,” you rasped when your mouths finally parted, as if you were coming up for air at the pits of an ocean, swimming in each other’s love. “more than anything.”

“yeah?” 

“yeah,” you repeated, staring into his beautifully brown eyes. 

“fuck,” ethan said, locking lips with you again. almost like he couldn’t get enough. 

frankly, you couldn’t, either.

that was how you ended up with your back to the couch, ethan’s fingertips on your bare thighs as he held them apart, head buried between your legs. all you could feel was pleasure and the lingering drumming of your heartbeat, numb to the grief and despair that’d mantled over your friends for the past few weeks.

there was something about the view of your legs thrown over ethan, caught over his broad, naked shoulders, while he was on his knees sucking the soul out of you. you remembered how he gathered your thighs in his big hands and pulled you towards the edge, draping your legs over him.

“fuck, ethan,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers through his hair. “you sure you’ve never done this before?”

ethan silently nodded, making a humming sound that shook you. his tongue was giving its undivided attention to your clit, a pair of his fingers stuffed inside your cunt. he wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, but from the way your features tensed with pleasure, it had to be something right.

you were driving him mad with lust and you were hardly even doing anything. the way you cried out his name with that sweet tongue of yours when his thumb rubbed your clit should have been a crime, to say nothing of how utterly tight you were around his fingers, squeezing around him with the wettest of sounds.

shit, he got you this wet? ethan - much like everybody else - knew you had a thing for him with how you defended him with your life, though this was desire of the next level. in a way, it was more than lust. it was burning. from the head down, judgment clouded by mantles of smoke, so to speak.

which explained everything on your end. the lying, the deception. you knew in your heart that there was almost nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, because you loved him.

“oh my fucking god,” you cried, sensitive. “ethan, baby, i’m so close.”

ethan was painfully hard right now, rutting his hips against the side of the couch at your pretty sounds. “you’re close?” he repeated, in spite of the signs glaring him in the face. your legs trembled like you were quaking, a pulse between them. 

you answered him in a moan, hands slipping out of his hair as you instead squeezed one of the couch pillows for dear life, afraid of hurting him.

“cum for me,” ethan said, lifting from your glistening pussy while substituting his mouth with his hands. “i wanna see you cum.”

looking at his eyes was all it took to shatter you. it was too quick for him to be finishing you, but he was. nice and hard.

it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, a kind of intensity you quickly understood only lived between each other. his name parted your open mouth in a scream-adjacent sound sure to do a number on the neighbors and your fingers found purchase in the pillow pressed to your bosom as your vision blurred white. ethan could feel you tightening around his long, thick fingers, and he so badly wished that it was his dick you were cumming on right now.

then, you went slack, not even realizing your back had arched off the sofa until it met the cushion again.

ethan, in awe at the sight of you orgasming, withdrew his fingers from your pussy with a squelch and said, “open.”

you opened your mouth without a second thought.

it took you by surprise when he shoved his fingers down your throat, but you sucked your own arousal off of them without a second thought - without having to be told. it was like you always just knew what he wanted. pleased, ethan hummed, “that’s it.”

you were back to earth for a second, slowly re-entering the real world as the lingering euphoric high of your orgasm gently faded. you took his fingers out of your mouth when you were done, smiling at the sight of him with your arousal giving his lips a wet glimmer. like you wanted to make him proud.

“you, woman,” ethan started, sucking in a breath. “are going to drive me crazy.”

you giggled, watching him come to a stand, though not without accidentally bumping your (thankfully empty) coffee table and sending it flat to its side. the two of you devolved into more giggles and ethan leaned over you to catch your lips in another kiss.

but as his lips started to travel lower, your giggles turned into soft sighs. you fumbled with his pants, somehow managing to take them off.

when his underwear came off too, you gaped at the sheer size of him. he was so big. matter of fact, that word didn’t do him justice.

ethan pushed your jaw up and teased, “you’ll catch flies.”

“oh, shut up,” you groaned lightheartedly. “jesus, you really walk around with that pussy-destroyer attached to you?”

ethan snorted at your choice of words. “can i destroy yours?”

you chortled, amused. “never say that again,” you whispered, grabbing the back of his head and drawing him into you. 

ethan smiled into your lips. i’ll take that as a yes.

so that was exactly what he did.

you thought about what happened that night a dozen times, deciding it was simultaneously the best and worst mistake of your life. on the one hand, you’d had amazing, mind-blowing orgasms thanks to ethan and he reciprocated your feelings. you thought he did, at least. you couldn’t really tell if it was genuine or just some kind of unnecessary bait to get you to sleep with him, as if you wouldn’t have offered your body to him on a silver platter regardless. 

whatever he wanted, his wish was your command. but on the other hand, that was your problem, guilt gnawing at you from the inside out. fear, too. you were a macher, you had the blood of a serial killer keeping you alive. you’d always felt guilty for that, but then you remembered ethan’s weird behavior prior to that first kiss.

a part of you wanted to believe he was joking around, just like you always believed him when he told you he was doing this or that while your friends fought for their lives. but contrary to what you told him, you did think about where he was all those times when he stood you up. you just tried to drown the thoughts out.

but you couldn’t drown them out now. what if he was the killer? no, that doesn’t make sense. ethan wouldn’t hurt anybody, would he?

it made sense, but you didn’t want to accept that all the signs pointed to him. sam was wrong. love wasn’t blind - not for you. you noticed all the little things, all the big ones, too, and never said a word to anyone.

that was why you felt guilty. 

you are such a fucking dumbass, you chided yourself. you’d slept with a potential killer, which ironically made things make even more sense. if ethan did like you like he said he did, that would explain why you were the only ones who’d yet to get hurt at all, much less be in the same room during the attacks.

shouldn’t ghostface have at least called you? you were in the friend group too, and close to sam. matter of fact, you were a target. they’d tried to frame you for the crimes. you still remembered sitting in detective bailey’s office with sam and tara, baffled.

that was when your phone started to ring. 

you jolted, startled. maybe it was ethan, who’d been trying to reach you for the past few days following the hookup, but you were too conflicted to speak to him right now. or maybe it was ghostface, but all your friends were pretty sure that was a synonym for ethan at this point.

when you looked at the caller id, much to your surprise, it was mindy. you pressed your phone to your ear and said, “hello?”

“hey, ghostface,” greeted mindy. you heard chad and sam groan in the background, saying something about her needing to stop being so mean to you. “the gang are at chad’s job and you’re invited to the hangout.”

“you’re hanging out,” you started, trying to wrap your head around her words. “at chad’s job?”

“we’re hanging out,” chad said, having snatched the phone from mindy. you also figured that you were on speaker. “come on, it’ll be fun. it’s a wednesday night, nobody ever comes here on wednesday nights. plus, you can get discounted surfboards.”

you grumbled, “what the fuck am i going to do with a surfboard?”

“i don’t know. surf, maybe?” chad retorted.

“give me my phone back,” mindy snarled, taking her phone from her twin. “listen, sam said you should come and i don’t think her wrath is something you wanna deal with right now.”

“okay, i’m coming. i’m coming,” you said, swiping your keys on the counter and slipping on your shoes. 

“see’ya.”

the call disconnected. “jesus,” you mumbled under your breath, heading out the front door.

chad worked part-time at a surf shop that happened to not be too much of a distance from your apartment. you walked inside, chad behind the bar flirting with tara, mindy and sam arguing over a surfboard design that mindy thought that was hideous and sam found cute, but your eyes locked on ethan.

you didn’t know why you thought that he wouldn’t be here.

you shifted your gaze. this was about to be the most awkward hangout of your life. 

“look who’s here in the flesh,” chad announced, almost looking surprised to see you there.

mindy clasped her hands together and said, “yes, instead of cutting other people’s flesh.”

chad groaned, “god, mindy, could you stop with the accusations for five goddamn seconds?”

“it’s fine, chad,” you said, ignoring her. “so, remind me why we’re hanging out at a surf shop of all places again?”

“because what better place to hang out than at a shop with terrible surfboard designs,” replied mindy. 

sam exclaimed, “the design was cute!”

“to you,” mindy and tara retorted in unison.

ethan had been watching you, and his fixed gaze was not lost on you, but you had no intention of reconciling with him right now. he shifted his attention and asked, “what if we get, like, attacked?”

mindy brushed him off. “you’re here, ghostface. why would we get attacked?”

“i mean, there is usually more than one,” you added, not sparing ethan a glance in spite of the fact that you could feel his weighty stare on your shoulder. 

mindy pointed at you. “that’s why you’re here, too.”

is that what this was about - they were trying to see if you were ghostface?

“we were together,” you insisted, as if that were the problem.

mindy rolled her eyes, mocking, “‘i was with ethan’ this, ‘ethan was with me’ that. yeah, chopping up people’s bodies like bonnie and clyde!”

you glanced at sam who immediately raised her hands, as if to say she was innocent. you thought she trusted you.

that was when you saw a cloaked figure closing in on her and you screamed, “behind you!”

sam skirted out of the way just in time to slip shy of the ghostface’s knife, alarming the six of you. you all immediately started to run, screaming in terror.

chad darted from behind the cash register with tara’s hand in his, dashing over to the entrance, but the door was locked from the inside. he grumbled, “what the fuck?”

you glared, shouting, “are you sure he’s not the killer?”

“don’t ever fucking say that again,” tara exclaimed in lieu of mindy, and frankly you weren’t inclined to get on the bad side of multiple people, so you kept your mouth shut.

then, the unimaginable happened, and the ghostface started charging after you. you ran as fast as you could, almost tripping over your own feet, zipping past racks of clothes. the ghostface caught you at a surfboard stand. you slid to the left, but it followed you, and the pattern repeated when you slid to the right. you made an instinct-driven decision to snatch one of the (agreeably ugly) surfboards off the stand that mindy and sam had been debating over, smacking the masked figure with it.

then, you ran for your life. 

chad pointed at the surfboards and exclaimed, “see, they come in handy!”

you couldn’t be annoyed right now of all moments. what the fuck am i going to do with a surfboard? it looked like you had your answer.

the ghostface gave up on pursuing you for the meantime, chasing sam upstairs. mindy went behind her, and before following suit, chad said to tara, “there’s an exit at the back of that room. go see if it’s open.”

tara nodded, running away at the speed of light.

ethan tugged your hand and pulled you behind a shelf of flip-flops, pulling you towards the ground. you crept down, glancing around the corner, watching ghostface slash sam in the arm with a wince while you were hidden.

“why the hell have you been avoiding me?” ethan asked, whispering yet yelling at the same time.

you narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “do you really wanna talk about this while there’s a maniac chasing us with a knife?”

“yes, i do really wanna talk about this while there’s a maniac chasing us with a knife,” ethan retorted, briefly spying from the end of the shelf. “did you have some kind of post-nut clarity?”

you exhaled a breath. something like that, yeah. “i just need time to think.”

“you just need time to think?”

you bobbed your head. 

ethan was obviously not pleased, asking, “what is there to think about? i like you and you like me.”

“and all our friends that we’re fucking bonnie and clyde,” you retorted.

“is that so bad?” ethan asked, nudging your side. “you don’t wanna be my ride-or-die?”

you didn’t get the chance to respond before you saw mindy topple over the railing and you rushed over to shove a clothing rack out of her way. it was a less than graceful fall and it still hurt like a bitch, but a lot less than metal. she rolled off your back, murmuring a faint, “thank you.”

you gave her a weak thumbs up. 

you flitted your gaze upstairs just quick enough to see chad push the ghostface down to the ground floor. you pushed mindy out of the course of the fallen, broken railing, rolling over, and watched the ghostface crash into a glass display.

that was when tara ran from the back room, exclaiming, “the door was locked, but i got it open. come on - let’s motherfucking go!”

the five of you ran behind her, you and tara running upstairs to help sam - she had been stabbed in the arm - and tugging her out without looking back.

apparently you and sam were the only ones who drove your way to chad’s job, so tara took her keys and the six of you split up into two groups of three, agreeing to meet at the hospital.

but it didn’t stop there. 

after getting bandaged up, sam said that she wanted to end things now - there was no point in drawing it out and waiting for more bodies to drop. you gave the killer an advantage that way. it was fortunate enough that none of you were killed during the attack, though mindy was still recovering from when she was stabbed and that, on top of today’s injuries, landed her a stay at the hospital.

the doctors said that had you not broken her fall, it would have been more serious.

there was a consensus that you’d call kirby and detective bailey, who both told you to gather at the shrine. ethan stayed behind to have some injuries looked at, but the other four of you went straight to the theater.

wrong move.

it was you that got the call from detective bailey with the newfound information on agent kirby. you’d been trying to clear the theater with sam when your phone rang, startling the both of you. you put the phone on speaker so that he could speak with both you and sam, your heart racing when he informed you both that she was no longer with the fbi and you guys needed to get out of there expeditiously. which you tried to do, but the doors were locked.

it all happened so fast.

one second, you were looking for an escape, and the next, you’d come face-to-face with ghostface. you and sam burst through the door to the concession stand room, startling chad and tara, the latter who had a slash going down her back.

you helped chad deter the ghostface while sam grabbed tara, and the four of you ran for lives. it felt like you were running in circles (probably because you were), as if you were in some sort of labyrinth. all the doors were locked. when you circled back to the concession stand, chad got stabbed just as you were running out of the door.

“no, chad!” screamed tara. 

your heart wreched at the sight of chad dropping to his knees, blood gathering in his mouth and tears pricking his eyes, but you said to tara, “tara, we’ve gotta go, there’s nothing we can do for him right now.”

“run,” was the last thing chad whispered before he fell to the floor.

you, sam, and tara begrudgingly ran into the theater, abandoning chad. kirby ran into view, obviously a little roughed up, and said, “i’m here!”

“stay back,” you warned. 

tara hissed, “we know it’s you, kirby.”

kirby was baffled. “what? no - one of them knocked me out!”

“get away from the girls,” shouted detective bailey, practically materializing out of thin air.

“what? whatever he’s been telling you, he’s lying!” kirby shouted, eyes widening in horror when she saw one of the ghostface coming up behind detective bailey. “behind you!”

just as detective bailey was about to get stabbed, he shot kirby to the floor and the ghostface retracted the knife. all you, sam, and tara could do was watch as everything unfolded before your eyes - all of the secrets and lies. “great job,” bailey said, lowering his gun as the second ghostface came to stand beside him. “both of you.”

“you?” tara asked. 

detective bailey drawled, “yeah, of course me. frankly, i expected more from you and your sister after what you did to us.”

tara furrowed her brows. “what do you mean us?”

the ghostface to his left started to remove their mask, and when ethan unmasked himself, you stood there empty. there was no emotion stirring inside you - no pain, no fear, no anger, no shock. it was like you’d been milked dry to numb you for this moment where you’d run out of places to hide from the truth. where you’d have to confront it head-on.

sam glanced at you, your dull, expressionless face compared to hers and tara’s. “did you know?”

tara shook her head, looking at you with betrayal. “were you in on it?”

you said nothing. you felt nothing.

“this was your grandmother’s, sam,” ethan said, holding up his mask. “i guess it really does run in the fucking family. speaking of family, my name’s not ethan landry!”

detective bailey chuckled while the three of you were left in the dark. 

“is it, dad?” ethan asked, grinning. 

both of them started to laugh borderline hysterically, as if something was funny. 

tara repeated, “dad?”

sam took a deep breath. “wait, if it’s you two, that just leaves… mindy?”

the moment of silence before the other ghostface unmasked themself was the most dreadful of all, and you felt a weird combination of relief and shock when you saw quinn’s ginger hair as she sang to sam and tara, “hey, roomies. didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

tara exclaimed, “yeah, because you died!”

“kind of didn’t, though,” quinn said. “it was a good way to get off the suspect list. stab gale weathers, stab mindy on the train. that sort of thing.”

detective bailey nodded along, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “yup, and i just made sure i was first on scene so i could switch her body out with a fresh one. a little fake blood, a prosthetic. you’d be amazed at what a grieving father can get away with.”

“i got your father’s mask,” quinn said to you, walking around with stu macher’s mask. “he was my favorite.”

you frowned.

detective bailey went on some rant that you didn’t entirely grasp because your head was spinning, though it wasn’t necessarily directed to you as much as it was the carpenter’s, which made you second-guess your involvement in this. why frame you for your own boss’ death if they didn’t want you dead, too?

“you’re a killer,” detective bailey said, pointing to sam. “just like your father!”

sam screamed, “no, i’m not!”

quinn screamed even louder, face tensing with anger, “yes, you are, motherfucker - you killed our brother!”

“you said your brother died in a car accident,” tara reminded.

“no, no, no, you sweet, dumb thing,” ethan said. “he died in woodsboro at the hands of your sister.”

sam glanced from ethan to quinn until her eyes finally landed on detective bailey again and the realization settled in within the three of you. she said after a moment, “you’re richie’s family.”

“yeah,” detective bailey said somberly. “now, it wasn’t until i saw those photos of what you did, i knew that you had to fucking die - you had to be punished! along with anyone else who stands in our way.”

you felt all the air whoosh out of your lungs when detective bailey finally seemed to perceive you, glancing towards you. he said your name. “you’re probably wondering what the hell this has to do with you. stu macher was richie’s favorite too, you know. and when i found out that his illegitimate daughter was friends with my son, well, i knew you could be useful.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you exclaimed. 

bailey waved you off. “you proved yourself to be very useful indeed, without having to be asked. being ethan’s alibi every time without fail in spite of being the only one to know he’s never where he says he is? come on, you’re a smart girl. i’m sure you knew who he was long before this.”

you looked to your feet, cowering. you could feel sam and tara’s eyes on you and it made you queasy.

tara made a jab at detective bailey which led him to go on another tangent about not being the perfect father and the bond between a father and his first-born son, but your eyes were locked on ethan. you could feel his stare on you, too, his pair of eyes as weighty as the carpenter’s. you could see something in him falter the more bailey went on about richie, but something hadn’t been right with him since the reveal. he seemed so… out of it.

bailey shifted his attention back to you, having had enough of being distracted by the sisters, and said your name again. “i dragged you into this to make you a deal. you’ve already proved that you would make a great partner. and i want you to be on our team.”

tara shouted, “what?”

“nobody’s talking to you, bitch,” roared quinn.

“you have to pick a side. them,” detective bailey said, waving his knife towards sam and tara. “or us.”

the spotlight was on you. your heart was racing, thumping in your ears. it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. you stood in the middle. to your left, you saw sam and tara, shaking their heads in an attempt to discourage you. but to your right, you saw ethan and his family, ethan giving you the blankest, stare. 

it almost felt apologetic, but this was do-or-die now. you couldn’t let your affairs of the heart take your life.

the detective tried to win you over, starting, “this is what your father would have wanted. don’t you want to make your daddy proud?”

you’d been walking over to them, much to sam and tara’s dismay, but those words made you grind to a halt as everything became clear to you. and you fucking chuckled. “you don’t care about ethan.”

detective bailey’s brows furrowed. “what are you talking about?”

ethan shouted, “you watch your mouth!”

you shook your head, raising your hand at ethan from afar as you put the pieces together. “no, i bet it’s always richie this, richie that. ethan, did you want to do this from the jump?”

“of course, he did,” bailey lied, sneering at you. “this is for his brother!”

“god, do i know,” you groaned. your eyes locked on ethan. “i’m sure the idea sounded brilliant in your head. juke the roommate lottery, meet chad, kill all your friends and maybe, just maybe dad will love you the way that he loved richie. is it working? did you make daddy proud? are you proud of him, detective bailey?”

quinn screamed at the top of her lungs, “shut the fuck up!”

but you didn’t. you kept talking. you kept pushing. “i know who my father was. and i know who i am. maybe i was scared that because his blood is running through me right now, that i’d end up just like him. but i’m more than stu macher’s daughter.”

detective bailey looked unimpressed and ready to get this over with. “what exactly are you, then?”

“i’m the girl that’s going to walk out of here and live to tell the story,” you hissed, much to bailey’s amusement. 

you shifted back to your would-be boyfriend.

“so, ethan. you choose. do you want to be the hero in my story,” you pointed to sam and tara. “or the villain?”

it wasn’t unnoticed how you looked detective bailey plain in the eye.

everybody’s eyes were on ethan. the silence was the most terrifying of it all, the prolonged agony of the unpredictable. you liked to think that you knew ethan, but this was the only way you could be sure.

the anticipation blindsided everyone in the room when ethan made the shocking decision to walk over to you and spoke, “i just want to be whatever you need.”

you stayed on-guard as he approached you, seeing as he was armed and it could have been a trick, but you were pleasantly surprised when he handed you his knife. 

“well, i need a hero,” you told him. 

“then i’ll be that.”

shit hit the fan and everybody immediately went to war.

ethan grabbed your hand, somehow managing to pull you away undetected as his family dealt with the brutal sting of betrayal by unleashing it onto the carpenter’s.

you whispered, “eth, i can’t stay here. they’re my friends. do you think my father would have just hid?”

ethan shot back, “i thought you didn’t want to be like your father?”

“well, maybe he had some admirable characteristics,” you hissed, beginning to run to protect your friends. 

“wait,” ethan called out, grabbing your wrist. “you’re forgetting something.”

you gave him a confused look, but it all melted away when he smashed his lips against yours, kissing you with all the emotions a man could bear. you kissed him back just as passionately, almost as if it would be the last time.

“i love you,” ethan exhaled when he pulled away, because you two were running out of time. “i never would have hurt you, i need you to know that. that’s why i made plans with you and then i bailed. i wanted to make sure you weren’t there, so you’d be safe.”

“ethan,” you started. 

ethan ignored you, emotionally continuing, “i didn’t want to do this. i just wanted to feel like i meant something to him. and i know sorry isn’t going to bring your friends back, but...”

you cried out, “e, behind you!”

ethan turned around just in time to see quinn trailing him with a knife. “you chose the wrong side, brother. a loose fucking whore over your family?”

“you watch your fucking mouth, quinn,” ethan growled, charging towards his sister. 

you watched in terror, considering he was unarmed. 

“go,” ethan shouted to you, looking back for a second. “baby, go!”

you begrudgingly did as told, running out of the room and locating sam and tara who were currently fighting detective bailey. you hid behind him, undetected, and lunged at him. he heard you approaching and turned at the last second, but his arm still got caught on your blade and you managed to slice him up a little.

“you’re going to regret that,” detective bailey seethed, coming towards you.

out of nowhere, quinn charged back into the room, slightly injured but a beast nonetheless - almost as if the pain didn’t bother her. but you didn’t see ethan, which filled your heart with worry.

you didn’t have time to ask questions, because when quinn saw the knife in your hand and the wound on her father, she immediately beared what was left of her teeth (you had seen sam and tara holding bricks) and came for you.

tara moved at the speed of light and toppled the tv over, the one that had killed your father all those years ago, and sent it crashing down with quinn’s body. you heard something break that obviously wasn’t the tv and saw her go limp.

sam mocked to bailey, “looks like you’re down another child.”

“you,” hissed detective bailey, charging at sam, until you heard a gunshot and he sank down to his knees, wounded. 

you turned around and spotted ethan holding the trigger. he was limping towards you, blood dripping through the fabric of his costume, and he’d obviously been stabbed.

“ethan,” you called out, almost coming over to get him. 

“i’m fine,” he said, holding up his hand to stop you in your tracks. “i’m okay.”

detective bailey glanced at his only remaining child, speaking faintly, “you’re making a fatal mistake, son.”

ethan shook his head, face tensing with rage. “it stops right here, dad. it stops with you. no more of this bullshit.”

sam glanced at you. “you want to do the honors?”

you bobbed your head. “hell, yeah,” you said, walking up to detective bailey’s body. 

“you’re just like your father too,” he hissed. “you always will be!”

“maybe,” you whispered, crouching down. “but you’re forgetting one thing.”

bailey barked, “what?”

“i’d have to actually kill somebody to be just like him, and there’s no one better to start with than you,” you crooned, smiling like the devil. “for richie.”

“for richie,” sam repeated when you raises your knife. 

you jabbed the knife right between his eyes, stabbing as deep as you possibly could as you watched the detective’s face pale, before all the life was drained from it altogether.

when he stilled, it was like a breath of fresh air. sam and tara went to sit at the steps while you came over to ethan, lowering him to the ground and applying pleasure to his wound. he hissed in pain, and you whispered, “sorry. i’m sorry. i know it hurts, but we have to stop the bleeding.”

“it’s okay,” ethan whispered, looking into your eyes. “if i die right now, at least you’ll be the last thing i see.”

“don’t fucking say that,” you whispered, tears burning your eyes. “you’re gonna be okay. we’ll get an ambulance here and they’ll help you, and you’re gonna need a really good fucking lawyer.”

ethan snickered, brushing your hair out of your face. “isn’t the macher family rich?”

you rolled your eyes, bringing your lips to his as you kissed him with all the love in the world. 

he would pull through, you knew he would. everything was going to be okay.

[soscarlett1twas]

Americana

↳ Elias tries to be a normal kid. ↳ 876 words

“Fucking run!” Elias screamed, voice straining. Even he could barely hear himself above the chaos. Sound — some human, some not — surrounded him from every angle, creating a wall of pure, adulterated, deafening, muffled, everything.

He stopped and took a breath, throat scrapped from the strain. But his hands constricted on the fence, nearly slitting his skin, shoulders tensed up. He distantly registered the people beside him still yelling.

Elias watched the man barrel towards him, flocked on all sides by allies and enemies alike. If you could believe it, the sound swelled, as if everyone held a baited, loud, breath.

He felt it. In the brief milliseconds as it happened, the pause rippled away, and the crowds shrieks of excitement, disappointment, everything in between, rushed out. Elias’ very bones echoed back their call.

When the man fell over the line, everyone went ballistic.

Elias cheered and whooped, taking a high five from his friend right beside him. For a few moments, he basked in an electric energy, shared with hundreds of his classmates.

“Finally,” his friend said to the left of him. Elias’ hands loosened around the fence as she released hers, turning and slinking down it to rest in the grass.

Elias waited to watch the scoreboard’s large, orange numbers turn from zero to six before joining her.

The rest of their posse dropped like flies, clumping together after being dispersed across the fence line. There was a total of seven of them — ironically, none with the intention of actually watching a school football game. But when they’d spent the first quarter getting their asses beat, even they couldn’t help but join in on the fray, chanting for a few points.

Elias’ palms swept across the damp grass as he sat, smiling at his friend group. Adrenaline still buzzed between them. Laughter flitted from Luke, who sat across from him.

“Hey,” Em began, “now we’re only down by 24!”

Her girlfriend nodded, leaning up against her shoulder.

Someone snorted. “Oh, we’re making a comeback, absolutely. Need not fret.” Paige’s sardonic lilt struck each word.

And they laughed.

Elias did too, of course. Paige’s humor often hit a petty cord within himself. But when he looked down at his hands, he found them still shaking.

A hollow pit was in his stomach. One he tried to ignore since the first roar of the crowd. The sight of paramedics did not help. A precaution, sure, but Elias clenched as he walked by their vehicle, reminded of moments when one was necessary.

He looked up, feeling a roil in his chest. But the stars were diluted by the bright lights, the night sky poisoned by artificial emissions.

This wasn’t so bad, he figured. Sickly memories could be drowned as easily as his constellations. But his hands refused to calm, still quaking against the green.

He really shouldn’t be here. He knew it wasn’t a smart choice, given how easy it’d be to jump him, or worse. A rival gang member could be anywhere, hiding amongst students. Elias wasn’t officially a Wraith yet, but what would it matter? Warden’s son could fetch a pretty penny, and to some, make an even prettier corpse.

It suddenly felt too hot, like flames were ensnaring him again. He needed to get out of here.

“Elias?” Before he could move, Em’s voice pushed through his thoughts. Nobody else seemed to notice. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Okay. If you need someone to talk to…”

“I know Em, thanks.” He gave a grim smile.

She quirked her own right back, before turning back to the conversation.

Elias clenched his heads, trying desperately to make them settle. He knew it was irrational. That tonight, he was nothing more than a kid at a school game. But that didn’t dissipate the thoughts, the memories.

It didn’t stop smoke from wafting to him.

It took a few minutes, mostly of Elias half-listening to his friend’s talk, to calm himself enough to engage. The trembling went down and his heartbeat sputtered.

Still, he was on edge. Anything could break his fragile calm.

Seemingly no time passed, but they had someone already reached the final quarter of the game. Elias, as well as his friends, lost all vested interest, absorbed in their own world.

Yet the shattering came with a vibration.

Elias whipped out his phone. Two texts, both from James. He didn’t know how he missed the first.

Your dad’s not too happy about you being out. I managed to talk him down a bit, but tread carefully.

And then, a few minutes later:

I’ll be picking you up. Just text me when you’re ready. Do some dumb teenager shit, get a funny story for me.

Elias looked up, watching the scene. His friends in the grass. The blaring lights framing them. Knowledge of their memories made in daytime and the secrets shared at night.

He cracked a smile, stretching the pearl scars around his lips. Yeah, he would be a dumb teenager. If only for tonight.

He would have no past and have no future. All Elias held was this very moment.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket.

They were talking about class work. How swamped they’d be in the coming weeks. Simple, mundane, tedious complaints.

And he was happy, content with a little life.

[iriushoothoot]

Introducing Avian International+

🚀 Exciting News, Everyone! 🚀 In our quest to bring nostalgia back to life, we're thrilled to announce the launch of a revolutionary new product for our Discord server: Avian International+ 🎉. Inspired by the classic software designs of the 1990s, Avian International+ promises to transform your digital communication experience with a retro twist. Expect pixelated avatars, dial-up tones before every voice chat, and a text-to-speech bot that sounds just like your old desktop computer. We've even integrated a Clippy-like assistant to help navigate through the server! 📂💾 But wait, there's more! Every message sent will first be converted into a fax sound, ensuring every word sent feels like it's traveling through time. 📠 Prepare for a trip down memory lane as we roll out this update. Let's make our server the first to experience the charm of the '90s internet – slow loading pages included! Features:

Experience thousands of hours of new content

stay safe through the new total surveillance services and the secret police

Activities and events for the entire flock

NEW and INNOVATIVE technology

Marketing Text

And much more!

Find out more at: discord.gg/TRgyZVmKVd #BackToThe90s #AvianInternationalPlus #Avian #Furry #community

Posted using PostyBirb

[scorchieart]

That Time Jin Had a Toothache 🍭🦷

Jin: Make hathte! Look upon your ailing brother and heed what becometh the man who over-indulgeth in pleathure!

Yves: You ate four candied apples and chipped a tooth. 

Jin: Excuthe me. A chipped tooth, three cavitieth, and thwollen gumth. Don’t thkimp out on my eulogy. 

Yves: I’ll be sure to mention your noble sacrifice— 

*Jin reaches for a bear-shaped cookie. Yves swats his hand away* 

Yves: Are you serious right now? 

Jin: Cut me thome thlack. Luke made thothe when he heard I fell in the line of battle.

Yves: Stop acting like a martyr, you glutton.

Jin: Everything I do ith in martyrdom, little brother. The eldetht readily thaccrificeth himthelf for the betterment of the flock.

Yves: Be quiet, we’re not birds. And you’re melting the ice with all that hot air you’re spewing. 

*Yves adds a fresh pack of ice over the melting one on Jin’s cheek* 

Yves: Euugh! And you got spittle on the cushions, too! Keep it in, will you? I cannot understand half the words you’re saying anyhow.

Jin: Aww, but you had the cutetht lithp ath a child, Yves. Made the whole palath thquee every time you opened your mouth. I remember it took yearth till you finally got Thariel’th name right. Thariel… Th-th-thariel… Yiketh, that’th a toughie.

Leon: Ah, dude. Now you’re getting spit all over my fancy suit.

Jin: Hey, you do look fanthy today… Hold it. What ith that in your handth?

Leon: Exactly what you think it is. A gun!

Jin: Leon, don’t lie to me. I played Luke’th route. I know what a gun ith.

Leon: No, you big goof. This is a heat gun. Totally harmless! On the lower settings, anyways.

Jin: Uhuh. And where did you get it?

Leon: From the All for Love! celebration event a few years back. Remember that photo shoot for the chibi dolls?

Yves: Don’t remind me. Nokto wouldn’t stop making jokes about how big my hand mirror was.

Licht: At least they didn’t stick you in a giant makeup bag. They made me pose for hours with those brushes and wands poking into my gut. I still have the bruises.

Jin: Uhuh. And how come I’m jutht finding out about thith now?

Yves: Maybe if your smile wasn’t so at-risk for cavities you would’ve been invited.

Jin: Pleath. The ladieth love a man with a thweet tooth—OUCH! Leon! What the heck, man!

Leon: Sorry, bro. I’m under strict orders from Yves to puff you with hot air anytime you make an allusion to sweets.

Jin: Who died and made Yves king? I’m not thaying that in mockery, by the way. I’m jutht upthet thith ith yet another event you didn’t invite me to, it theemth.

Yves: It’s for your own good! A man at your age needs proper discipline to keep out of trouble. And since words haven’t worked, we’ve elected to resort to other means.

Jin: *gasp* You didn’t.

Yves: I haven’t yet. But if you don’t show any progress soon I’m calling in the royal dentist. I mean it, Jin.

Jin: Thcary. Back me up here, Licht.

Licht: …

Jin: What’th up, buddy? Cake got your tongue—Yeowch! What wath that for?

Licht: You said the c-word. 

Jin: Not you too! Why d’ya thmile when Yves thaid the d-word? And do ya have to poke me with that giant lanthe? 

Licht: Increasing the surface area of pain deamplifies the sensation at its source.

Yves: Who taught you that?

Licht: I read it in a book. *poke*

Jin: ACK! That’th it. I don’t want you talking to Chevalier unthupervithed anymore. 

Licht: As soon as you learn to stop poaching others’ pastries. Horse and I were looking forward to those candy apples all week.

Jin: Fine, fine. I’m thorry. There, can you let me go now?

Yves: Not until you’ve proven you’re completely cured of your nasty saccharine habit. We’re not leaving this room until you can go a full day without eating these cookies.

Jin: You’d let them go bad like that? That’th too cruel!

Leon: Yeah, I’m with him on this one, Yves. Couldn’t we just use a picture of cookies instead? Would hate to see Luke’s work go to waste.

Yves: Oh, lay off it. They’re not going to spoil. And anyways, we’re feeding them to the horse at the end.

*Horse whinnies happily*

Leon: That’s one weird horse.

Licht: He’s Clavis’s.

Jin + Leon: Ahh.

Yves: Speaking of, will you lot please keep it down? I had to abandon my post for this and I don’t want a certain someone to find out.

Jin: No one appreciateth your thaccrifith more than I.

Yves: Then you’ll take it up with you-know-who should my room be defiled?

Jin: If you’re that worried, let’th end thith confinement early and you can go keep a lookout for Clavith. Trutht your big bro. I’m completely cured! 

Yves: I trust my trust in you has plummeted since you gave yourself that second cavity this month.

Jin: Thothe éclairth were worth it—Ouuuuch!

Leon: Keep your eye on the prize, Jin. And your drool off my pants.

Yves: Leon, try to avoid the ice pack when you blast him, please.

*Yves adds yet another ice pack*

Jin: You know, I’ve been waiting for thomeone to explain, but what’th with the cat hat, Yves?

Yves: Well, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, we all had to sneak away from our typical duties to set this up. Licht disguised himself as a guardsman. The most adorable one in the entire palace no less, but it served our purposes. Leon is a dapper gent, which for some reason this place seems to always have an overabundance of. 

Jin: And you’re the pretty kitty to round out the gang?

Yves: *face turns red* I am the phantom cat who travels by shadow and blends in with the night, obviously.

Licht: It’s noon. You just shut the curtains.

Leon: Plus we didn’t need to sneak around. We’re kind of in charge of the place.

Licht: And it wasn’t so hard. I rode this horse all the way up here and no one noticed.

Leon: Hmm, maybe we need to review the guard rotations.

Jin: Licht, I don’t want you talking to Clavith unthupervithed anymore.

*horse grunts in agreement*

Yves: Back to the point! Maintaining the secrecy of this mission is of the utmost importance. What would it mean for us if word got out that the First Prince still gets cavities at his age? 

Leon: Sounds like a good excuse to set up that kingdom-wide dental hygiene education campaign we’ve been talking about. Jin can be like our mascot.

Jin: I can keep my lollipopth then? Thweet! Ouch!

Licht: Stop encouraging him, or we’ll never get out of here.

Yves: Um, hello? Did anyone even listen to what I’ve been saying?

Leon: You mean ninja cat? Looking sharp!

Yves: Is that all you…? Never mind. Just pipe down before someone hears.

Licht: If you mean someone besides us four, they already know.

Yves: WHAT?! Who knows?

Jin: Who knowth? Hehe.

Yves: Quiet, you. *covers Jin’s face with another ice pack* Answer me, Licht.

Licht: Well, Nokto for one. Technically he caught me on the horse, but I didn’t think it counted cause it was when we were still outside.

Yves: Curse him and his impeccable detective skills. I bet he deduced Jin was in trouble just by looking at your endearing getup.

Licht: No. He said, “What’s with the horse?” so I told him. He gave me that bunny to pass along to Jin as well as his well wishes.

Jin: *laughs beneath the ice* 

Yves: Licht, I don’t want you talking to Nokto unsupervised anymore. 

Leon: Lighten up, Yves. They were just trying to help. Like how Luke made those cookies. And that pillow there is the beta version of Clavis’s latest invention, or so he told me. Even Chevalier—

Yves: WAIT! You saw Clavis? When?

Leon: On my way over here. He flagged me down in the hall to talk about how happy he was to see so many dapper gentlemen around as of late.

Yves: But you didn’t tell him about you-know-what, did you?

Jin: *giggles beneath the ice* 

Leon: Nah, got him hooked on an even bigger scandal, if you catch my drift.

Licht: You didn’t tell him I nabbed his horse, did you? I’m telling you we were really looking forward to those apples.

Leon: No. I told him Yves left his room unattended.

Yves: You what?!

Leon: So much for keeping our voices on the down-low. Listen, I promise I’ll take care of whatever he leaves in there myself. Prince’s honor.

Yves: I may just cry.

Jin: Hehe, me too! Ouch, thith ith tho cold.

Leon: If you must, do it right into that pillow. Clavis said amusing things will happen when it gets wet.

Yves: And you let Jin rest on it?!

Licht: You’re the one who keeps piling melting ice bags on him.

Yves: Oh no, Jin!

*Yves removes all ice bags. Jin looks up with a twitchy smile.*

Jin: I can’t feel my fathe. Hehehe.

Leon: I gotcha bro.

*Leon sets the heat gun to a comfortable temperature. The boys sigh with relief once Jin’s face unfreezes.*

Licht: That was brutal.

Leon: Oh, yeah. I ran into Chevalier, too.

Yves: Oh, I knew this was a bad idea from the start! Why did you put me in charge, Leon?

Leon: Hey, you’re the best man for the job and you’re doing amazing. Plus, it’s fine. Chevalier was cool about it.

Licht: He never really does care when we get hurt.

Leon: He didn’t mention Jin, but he did save my behind. See technically I was supposed to return the heat gun right after the photo shoot. Something about preventing anachronisms and fourth-wall breaks, or whatever. But, I mean, come on! Who’d pass this thing up? Winters have been so easy ever since. Goodbye freezing toes! And you should see how it cooks meat!

Yves: Get to the point.

Leon: I’m getting there. So Clavis dumped the pillow on me because Sariel was chasing him. Caught me off guard so I didn’t get a chance to hide my gun. Before Sariel got too close, Chevalier showed up out of nowhere and blocked his view. That cloak of his is really impressive, I’d bet he could hide the horse behind it. Luckily, Sariel was too preoccupied with hunting down Clavis to stick around and ask questions.

Jin: Aha! Told ya Chevalier’th a good man at heart! Thweet ath pie, that guy—OUCHIE! Come on, Licht, it’th a figure of thpeech!

Leon: Chevalier said to make sure no outsiders knew we had access to such a hi-tech weapon. Personally, I think he just wants a turn at it. They stuck him with that giant lipstick tube at the photo shoot, remember?

Jin: Et tu, Chevie? I take it back, he'th rotten and I don't want any of you talking to him anymore.

Yves: Whoa, so not even Sariel’s allowed to know? I feel unworthy to have access to such illicit information.

Leon: Hey, you’re a worthy prince and a valued member of this team. Don’t you forget it.

*Licht and horse nod in agreement*

Yves: *blushes* You mean it? Gosh, I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you all today. Guess the pressure got to me. But no more! We’re a team, and we’re in this together. Through the good and the—ARE YOU KIDDING ME, JIN?!

*Yves swats Jin’s hand away from the cookies again.*

Jin: What? Through the good and the bad, yeah? My weakneth maketh the retht of you thtronger. You’re welcome.

*Yves grunts and stands. Jin sits up and holds the bunny like a shield.*

Jin: Whoa whoa whoa. Maybe that made you a little too thuper thtrong, haha. Now it’th your turn to share a weakneth tho I can catch up. Okay? 

*Yves grabs Licht’s lance.*

Jin: Come on. Ninja kitty? Pleathe?

*Yves takes aim.*

Jin: Pretty pleathe with sugar on top—Ouch! Actually, I detherved that one. Thankth, Leon.

Leon: No problem, bro. Hey, you might wanna dodge.

*Yves strikes with the lance. It pierces the bunny’s head where Jin’s stomach lay moments before. Water starts spouting out of the doll.*

Yves: Wha—why was there water in that bunny? And why’s it so cold?

Licht: Oh, I forgot to mention. It’s an ice-pack bunny. Nokto got it on his last trip to Jade. He said it’s really popular with the kids there. Guess its guts melted.

Leon: Aww, that’s sweet—OW! Actually, I deserved that one. Thanks, Jin.

Jin: Anytime. I vowed to only uthe thethe fithtth to therve my kingdom, after all.

Yves: Okay, I have no idea what he just said, but everyone off the bed because that pillow is smoking.

*Clavis's pillow shakes and fumes. Everyone rushes to the walls.*

Licht: Maybe we shouldn’t have brought in the gifts.

Leon: And maybe we shouldn’t have tossed the only key to the room out the window.

Jin: It meanth the world to me that you all care.

Yves: If we don’t make it out of this. I want you all to know that it was an absolute honor and disaster working alongside you.

Licht: Ditto.

*Horse whinnies solemnly*

Jin: It wath one heck of a ride, boyth.

*Jin pulls lollipops out from his pockets and pops them into each of his brother’s and the horse’s gaping mouths with a salute.*

Leon: *spits out his lollipop* It’s not over yet.

Yves: Leon! What are you doing? Get back here!

Leon: Prince’s honor, Yves. I said I’d take care of it.

Yves + Licht: LEON!

*Leon straightens his suit and gives a thumbs up over his shoulder. Jin holds Yves and Licht back as Leon jumps onto the bed and covers the smoking pillow with his body. For a few moments, nothing happens. Then Leon begins laughing uncontrollably.*

Yves: Oh! It’s turned him insane! Give me the lance back, Licht, we have to put him out of his misery.

Leon: Relax, hehe! It’s some sort of laughing gas! Look, look—hahaha—the tag here says: THE CHUCKLE CUSHION! Bad dreams keeping you from your good night’s sleep? Simply turn the other cheek and let some of your blood, sweat, and/or tears fall onto the cushion’s surface to release a relaxing dose of bliss to lull you back to a happier dreamland. Warning: maximum of 9 droplets per single use; not recommended for users who suffer chronic excessive crying, sweating, or blood loss. Side effects may include uncontrollable laughter, freezing face, and increased desire to consume sugar. From Series VII of the Lelouch Trap Series™. Hahahahaha! 

Yves: Ohh, we practically drowned that pillow. And now he's caught the uncontrollable laughter.

Leon: Actually, that last 'Haha' was written on the tag, too. The most legible part, no less. Hehehe.

Yves: The loon. 'Blood loss' he writes, can you believe him?

Jin: *eyes the lance in Yves’s hands* At leatht he put a warning.

Yves: As if you ever read the fine print.

Jin: I’d be inclined to thtart today. Printhe’th honor.

Yves: *sighs* Very well. I suppose that’s enough excitement for one confinement. Come on, Leon, we’re taking you to the physician. But I’m keeping my eye on you, Jin. You’re on probation until—Hey! Where are the cookies?

Jin: Wathn’t me. Honetht!

*Jin holds up his hands in surrender. Lollipops and cookies and cakes slip out from underneath his shirt onto the floor in a sugary heap. On the other side of the room, Licht feeds Luke’s cookies to the horse and smiles as he opens the curtains and looks out the window.*

Leon: Scouting out the physician for me, Licht? Hahaha.

Licht: Sort of. I asked Nokto to call for the dentist, and he’s just arrived.

[avidfics]

Loser Carol x popular reader

Summary: Despite the attention you receive from the people in your major the only girl you have eyes on is Carol Danvers. Everyone calls her the awkward nerd in your major but you could care less. If only she could get her head out of the books.

Warning: None really; slightly obnoxious reader; fluff; kissings, language

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You’re not still staring at her, right?” The visible scorn on your “friends” faces didn’t deter you as you blatantly stared at the cute bookworm across the study room. 

Somehow, your peers in your major considered Carol an uninteresting, dull loser. Not that you minded. It was their fault if they couldn’t see the subtle sexiness Carol exuded as she hunched over the long study table in total concentration on the homework assignment. 

A few minutes ago, she had blown into the study room in complete disarray. Her worn brown leather jacket hung off one shoulder, low-rise jeans snug on her hips, and a laptop precariously perched in her arms. Something about it all drove you wild. It took a massive effort not to fantasize about dragging her frazzled self down against the wooden table, sliding her loose-fitted jeans down her ass, and making her moan your name as she disregarded any concerns of homework. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit your lustful intentions were written all over your face as you stared at her from across the room. Not having a desire to hide your emotions. 

Seconds passed, and your eye twitched as she never acknowledged you and kept scribbling in her notebook. Here you were, pretty, popular, and a smidge bitchy, and Carol had the nerve not to come begging for your attention?

The whole thing wounded your pride. 

Your chair screaks as you shoot out of your seat. Determined. The girls at your table must expect your next move if the groans and boos they let out are anything to go by. Whatever. You flip them off as you walk away from your judgemental table in your kitten heels and beeline to Carol’s table. The click-clack of your heels announces your approach as her friends, Monika and Valkayre, stop bickering, and eyes flare in surprise and slight apprehension at your presence. 

It took a tiny cough to snatch Carol’s attention away from her work but it was finally worth it when she looked up. The slow perusal from your feet, up your body, and to your eyes made your thighs clench a bit. Happy that you had spent the extra hour preparing your outfit and makeup.

“How’s it going guys? Feels like we havn’t caught up in forever.” You asked the group but you were solely focused on Carol, flicking your gaze between her eyes and her lips and grinned when a flush colored her face. 

A spike of irritation pricks your skin when you remember when one of her friends answers instead. Monica has a sarcastic lift to her lips as she looks up you from where she’s seated. “Wow, I didn’t realize you knew our names before today.”

Your eye twitched. That was true. You only learned Carol’s friend's names today to initiate this very scenario. 

For the past few years your crew of friends were pretty much made up of kiss-asses that only flocked to you because your family owned half the town and a good portion of the college. Maybe on a different day you wouldn’t mind getting closer to Monica and Valkyrie, they actually seemed nice, but right now you needed these two scatterbrains to get out  of the way. 

You brightly smiled at her nonetheless. “Of course I know your name. We’ve been in school together for years. But I agree we should get to know each other better-”

“-I never said that…”

“And while we’re talking about it.” You succulently cut the rest of her ramble off to get the attention of the scatterbrain who had, so far, been mute since your arrival. “Carol, I sent you an invite to the senior bonfire at my house on Insta but you never responded.”

Her friends comically “ohh”ed and tsked Carol but she looked between the two of them shocked. Looking for a lifeline. 

“Uhm, shit, you mean I was actually invited?” Her big round eyes looked up at you, earnestly asking.

“Well duh, love. You’re a senior too right? Honestly, I was kinda hurt when you never responded.” you whisper the last part out.

The desired impact of your downcast eyes, and fiddling your skirt had the desired, immediate response. She jolted up in her seat, dismay drowning her eyes. Unconsciously she runs her hands through her hair only for it to get caught in her ponytail, which she proceeds to yank out to findle with the holder. “Crap, crap, crap. Gez, I’m so sorry! Shit I’m such an idiot. I thought you messaged me on accident.”

A dramatic sigh leaves your lips.  

Monica gives an awkward cough. “We should probably go.” Under her breath, she mumbles, “Such an actress.” Which you almost smirk at. 

Outwardly you give a gracious smile at her friends. And cut a sharp glance to your crew, signally them to get lost. They roll their eyes but dutifully gather their items and head out. The sound of the heavy door clicking shut is music to your ears. 

Poor Carol now had her head thrown back in regret, stewing. Meanwhile you were devouring her with your eyes. Sure she gave off a geekish charm but there was nothing timid about the way she looked with her head thrown back and jean clad legs spread. The leather jacket was just the delicious icing on top. 

Her eyes are still closed so she doesn’t notice you rounding the table until you pressed a soft touch to her arm. 

“Shit.” she scoots her chair back in surprise but you pretend not to notice so you can take the opportunity to hop onto the study table next to her laptop. A devious part of you kept moving around to get “comfortable” but really just wanted to see her face as your flimsy mini skirt hikes higher   up your thighs, and as your tits jiggled in your low v-cut shirt. 

You might’ve decided to show off more of your body in hopes of seeing Carol today. And damn was it worth it as her gaze lowered to catch every slip of skin. When she audibly gulped and shifted uncomfortably in her seat the satisfaction you felt was immense.

“Carol?” She shook her head as if to clear away the lustful thoughts. But boy was it still there in her eyes. “So you truly didn’t know that dm was for you? Because if you think I’m being too forward I’ll back off…”

“Woah, don’t be crazy.” your single blink in response made her even more frantic. “Shit, I’m screwing this up even more. I’m usually better at articulating my words.”

“In what universe.” you quipp as a smile threatens to overtake your face. And to your delight Carol catches your teasing in stride. Boldly reaching up your outer thigh to give it a pinch. “Alright, smartass, havn’t you heard it’s rude to interrupt an apology?” 

“Hmm, I never need to apologize so I wouldn’t know.” Luckly she takes your brattiness in stride and just chuckles to herself. “Alright princess, well let this commoner show you how it’s properly done.” Your heart drops completely when two cool hands hook behind your knees and slides your bottom to the edge of the table until your legs end up on either sides of her frame. You quickly panic to press your skirt down in the middle to keep any sense of modesty. 

Not that Carol seemed to care as she looks up at you. Staring at your lips for a solid minute before dragging up to your eyes. “I had no idea you even knew I existed. meanwhile I’ve been working up the courage to talk to you for four years.” She ducks her head down, an embarrassed bashful smile on her face. ”nearly had an aneurysm when I saw you messaged me. Kinda thought it was a prank. But I promise to grovel even more and bring a ton of smores to the bonfire if you can forgive me.”

The bonfire was mostly an excuse for people to get drunk, hookup, and make terrible decisions. But you didn’t have the heart to ruin her Pg 13 illusions. Plus chocolate and groveling went together perfectly.

“Hmm.” You tapped your lipgloss coated lips as you pretended to deliberate. “suppose that was pretty good. But my apologies are better.”

“Thought you never needed to apologize-”

Her words die down as you drag her up by the collar of her jacket to press a soft, chaste kiss to her stunned lips. Only a hot second is needed for her shock to wear and the switch to click. In the next second, Carol fully stands up, her hands moving to either side of your hips and squeezing hard, pressing herself into the kiss with a thoroughness that left you dizzy. 

When you pull away for air, you both wear a pair of silly megawatt grins on your faces. A lingering kiss is pressed on her cheek as you hop off the table, straightening your twisted skirt and grabbing your bag. Her unfocused eyes track your movements. Clearly not nearly finished. On that you both agreed.

You take a moment to add your number to her phone while she plays with your other hand, lacing her fingers through yours playfully. Once it's in, you place the cell in her jacket pocket and begin to head out. “This Friday. My house. Don’t forget the smores.”

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 5

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

P.S. lmk if y'all would like to be added to the tag list

  “Sidney Prescott and (y/n) (l/n) both escaped a vicious attack last night but one of them is the daughter of Maurine Prescott, who was brutally murdered last year when convicted killer Cotton Weary broke into their home and savagely raped and tortured the deceased. Cotton Weary is currently awaiting an appeal for the death sentence, handed down after the young Sidney testified against him…” The reporter just went on and on through the tv screen. Tatum was rubbing Sid’s arm as a sign of everything will be okay. I held Sid’s hand to signify the same message, gently squeezing it so she knows she’s not alone. “It’s never going to stop is it?” She asked with a small chuckle. 

As Dewey sat across from us he notified, “Billy was released.”

Sidney’s face faltered once she heard this, I think she’s still afraid of it all. I on the other hand slouched back with a wave of relief. 

“His celular bill was clean, he didn’t make those calls,” Dewey said as he sat back in the chair, “We’re checking every celular account in the county. Any calls made to you two or Casey Becker are being cross referenced, it’s going to take some time but we’ll find 'em.” 

I squeezed Sid’s hand again and Tatum lightly punched her arm. “Okay,” was all Sid could really say right now. 

“We’ve got this, Sis.” I said to her with a small smile. 

  I guess pulling up to school in a patrol car was cool? Kind of gave a real “Back off” vibe when we stepped on the school grounds. “Don’t worry girls, it’s school. You’ll be safe here.” Dewey reassured us...but if there’s a possibility that the killer is another student, is it really all that safe? Reporters swarmed us once Sid and I were completely out of the car. One woman going as far as asking, “So how does it feel to be almost brutally butchered?” Seriously what thee fuck? Sid and Tatum walked ahead of me right as I was ready to hook it to another reporter like I did to Gale. Sadly enough though I was stopped by two pairs of arms holding me back while my legs went swinging.

“Let me at ‘em!” I exclaimed to my mystery captors. 

“Not a chance little Nancy Thompson,” I could hear Randy’s voice from my left. 

��Yeah these reporters are worse than any Freddy Kruger!” And then there was Stu’s cackle from the right. 

“Fine screw it, I just don’t want to see anymore of them haggling Sid again.” I said as I slightly jumped out at the flock of reporters. 

“Uh, where did Sid go anyways” I asked the two boys as I spun around. Finally seeing her talking to Weathers I tried to beeline but Stu held me back. 

“Dude, (y/n) slow your roll. Syd’s just talking to her,” Stu said as he secured me against his chest. I did my best to hide the red embarrassment all over my face. 

“Yeah probably fixing the mess you made last night,” Randy said as he rolled my eyes. 

His words struck something in me, I just calmed down and stopped fight Stu’s hold, if anything I was holding myself now. 

Stu punched Randy in the arm before said, “Way to go man.” 

“Wha- I-” Randy was about to pick his own fight with Stu again. 

I beat them to it when I turned around still in Stu’s grasp and said, “No he’s right, what I did last night was reckless and now Sidney is the one who has to clean it up.” I leaned my head on Stu’s chest. 

“C’mon (y/n), it wasn’t that bad?” Randy backpedaled on his words to try and make me feel better but lets face it, when you punch someone on national tv… it’s pretty bad. 

  At our lockers we waited around for the bell to ring. “This is a mistake, we shouldn't be here,” Sid said as she gathered her books. I’m honestly with her on that, it’s a total scare fest in the halls today. “I want you to meet me right here after class, okay Sid?” Tatum addressed my step sister but left me out of the question. Peaking my head over my locker door I arched an eyebrow. “I’ll walk you out of class (y/n),” Stu pipped in before looking at himself in a mirror. “Yeah okay Chicken Stew,” I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh at my own pun. I thought Stu would’ve laughed but before he could Sid said, “Hey I haven’t really seen Billy around, is he really pissed?” What the fuck Sidney? I thought. “Oh after you branded him the Candyman? No, his heart’s broken!” Stu exclaimed, earning a punch from Tatum. He said “ow” as Tatum said his name in a stern frustrated manner. 

  Someone came running down the hall in what’s now been dubbed the ‘Ghostface’ costume as they screamed bloody murder while jumping out at people. I let out a squeal before grabbing hold of Stu’s tan and white over shirt. Feeling heat rise up to my face I quickly let go and lightly brushed out my hair to compose myself. Stu turned around and pinched my cheeks, “Awe is (y/n) scewed of da big bad boo-gy man?” I swatted his hands away while saying, “Given recent events, yeah obviously.” Shuffling past Stu and over to Sid I notice his expression change for a split second for playful to envious. “Come on (y/n), you punched Gale Weathers on live news, I think you’ll be fine if you get yelled at by a kid in a costume,” Tatum said as she playfully rolled her eyes with a smirk. I couldn’t take it anymore, whether it was the embarrassment, the fear, the secrets, or the regret. I just couldn’t. I ran off from the group as both Tatum and Sid shouted after me. 

  As I ran down the hall I bumped into another figure. 

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I pushed off of them. 

“Hey it’s just me,” I heard an all too familiar voice say to me.

 “Oh-oh… Billy,” I said as I backed away. 

Waving his index finger between us he asked, “You still think it’s me?” 

I reassure him I don’t by saying, “No, I don’t I was just shocked to see you.” As I fiddled with my shirt. 

“I swear it’s not me (y/n),” Billy said stepping forward. 

Looking up at him I said, “I know Billy, there was still someone in the house that night though. So can you please-” I cut myself off seeing the lack of inches in the space between Billy and I. 

“I know, I know, the cops say I scared him away. It wasn’t me (y/n).” He said as he looked down at me a little. 

“I know, he called us again when we were at Tatum’s…” 

“See! Couldn’t have been me, I was in jail,” Billy said as he turned over his hands to reveal inky fingerprints. “Remember?” 

“I’m sorry, but please understand,” I started as I looked up. 

“Understand what? My girlfriend and her little step sister would rather accuse me of being a psychopathic killer than touch me?” Billy looked back down at me, I could smell the spearmint gum roll off his breath. 

“You know that’s not true…” I said as I knitted my eyebrows together and grabbed a hold of his arm. 

“Then what is it?” He asked, hurt and confusion heard in his voice.

“Billy, Sid and I were attacked and nearly filleted last night?!” I asked, slightly appalled he’d even ask as if it weren’t clear. 

“I mean between us…” Billy said as his eyes stared down into my soul with an intensity I’ve never seen before. 

“What do you mean between us?” I asked at this point very confused as I let go of him and take a step back. 

“Isn't it obvious (y/n)? For the past five months, the smirks, the glances, the nudging, the little notes, Stu and I being practically all over you?” Billy said as he used his free hand that wasn’t on the banister to wave around. 

“No it wasn’t obvious! I mean Stu I knew about but you?! Billy, you’re my sister’s boyfriend!” I exclaimed, getting justifiably annoyed and upset. 

“Not anymore, she practically broke up with me the night at the station!” He raised his voice, making me flinch a little, he must’ve noticed since he let his body relax a little. 

“Look Billy I’ve had a crush on you and Stu for months but I know for sure this isn’t the way to go about things. Sidney didn’t say she broke up with you and I’m not going to just be a rebound to make her jealous.” I said resting my hand above his on the banister. 

Billy scoffed before saying, “(y/n), be real here Sid doesn’t want to see me anymore and like I said, the past five months…” Billy let his words trail off as he came closer to me, placing his hand on my forearm. Just like at the lockers my head was racing and everything felt so wrong, I just couldn’t take it. I just stepped away, shaking my head while I walked off letting Billy shout my name. 

Turning around to look at him I said, “I’m sorry if me having good morality for my sister’s relationship is an inconvenience to you and your perfect existence!” I exclaimed before turning back round. 

“What? What do yo- Nobody said that, (y/n)!” Billy shouted after me but it just faded out as I ran away. 

Stomping my way into the bathroom I make my way over to one of the sinks, I dig in my backpack for an aspirin or something. 

“They were never attacked, I think they made it all up,” I heard one of the bathroom stalls say. 

“Why would they lie about that?” A girl in another stall asked

“For attention, the girl and her sister have some serious issues!” The first girl replies. 

Part of me wanted to hide in the bathroom stall like the sad girls in the movies always did but then I remembered, this is life. In life you just gotta roll with the punches, so I’m doing just that, except this time I might punch back. Right when the two walk out of the stalls their faces dropped. Yeah I assumed seeing the face of one of your gossip subjects will do that to ya. I kept staring at them as they washed their hands, too scared to even look in my general direction. As they walked out I did that stupid petty way where you swish your fingers up and down. Finally I can cry in peace, I thought as I walked into an empty stall. Deciding that the short few seconds I’ve been in here were enough for me to feel refreshed I walk out, my eyes red and puffy while my lashes stick together. 

“Pathetic,” I said into the mirror. I always thought I held myself to a higher standard than this, not really with the crying thing. More so with the Stu and Billy thing… 

I don’t have time to think about it much when I hear a strange noise in the restroom. Getting low to the ground I check underneath all the stalls. Empty. Looking around I notice a loud vent in the wall, that must’ve been it. As I go back to shuffling around my bag I could’ve sworn I heard someone whisper my name. Maybe it’s better to ignore it? Slowly and carefully I get back down low to check again. This time I’m met with a pair of beat up leather work boots dropping down from the stall. “Oh shit,” I whispered to myself. 

  The stall door unlatches quickly and I try to make a run for it but I’m caught by the Ghostface. 

Thrashing around as he holds back my arms I asked, “Alright real funny, who is it? Stu, Rand, Billy? If this is some sort of pay back then it won’t work!” The man behind  the mask said nothing, but he violently jerked my face to the bathroom mirror. “What?” I ask, my face clearly showing malevolence towards whoever it is pulling the prank. That was until he pulled out an eight-inch long hunting knife. He slowly and lightly dragged the knife along my torso, from the collar of my cropped shirt all the way down to the button of my low rise jeans, applying extra pressure near my zipper. “Ya’ know if I wasn’t so skeptical about you trying to kill me right now we could probably take this in a very different direction,” I said as a more matter-of-factly sentence. I’m not sure if this shocked the masked murderer or gave him a change of heart but his grip loosen and I BOOKED IT!  I slammed the bathroom door open passing by a couple of teachers but I really just wanted to get the hell out of here. 

  After calming down a little bit I got outside of the school just quick enough to hear Principal Himbry say, “Attention now kids, due to the recent events that have occurred effective immediately, all classes are suspended until further notice,” Holy shit, “The Woodsboro police department has issued a citywide curfew beginning at nine o’clock tonight.” The whooping and hollering cheers that were so loud just a second ago died down into monotone boos. At least we’re out of school? 

“It was just some sick fuck having a laugh, sue me.” Tatum said as she rolled her eyes at me. 

“No, it was him Tatum I know it. Or else he wouldn’t have had a huge ass hunting knife!” I exclaimed in a huff. 

“Okay well, you're not to be alone anymore. If you pee, we all pee. Is that clear?” Asked Tatum

Sid and I looked each other up and now simultaneously say, “Ew, please no.”

Spooking up from behind us was Stu as he blabbered nonsensical words that most likely would’ve made sense if we were paying attention. 

“I don’t know what you did girls,” He said handing each of us flowers, “but on behalf of the entire student body we all say THANK YOU!” Stu shouted full force from his lungs.

“Stop it Stu,” Tatum said as she hit him with the little purple flower. 

I was so distracted by the two that I didn’t notice Stu change targets and come barreling towards me, hoisting me over his shoulder. 

“Stu! Oh my god asshole! I’d like to be returned to the security of my feet on the ground!” I shout at I hit his back with my palms. 

In the midst of my one sided battle Stu announces, “To celebrate this impromptu fall break, I propose we have a party. Tonight at my house!” 

Looking over to my right I see my step sister’s face contort into an emotion of unease, “Are your sure?” 

“Yeah as long as this little vixen doesn’t invite the entire world!” Stu exclaims as he motions to his girlfriend who is currently keeping me company by swinging my free hand. 

Stu goes on by saying, “Intimate gather, intimate friends,” whilst poking my thigh right below my ass. He should be glad Tatum didn’t see that one. 

“What do you say Sid? I mean pathos could have it’s perks?” Tatum piped up just as Stu let me down. Now Tatum and I have switched spots beside Stu. 

“Could totally protect you, yo I’m so buff, I got you covered bro!” Stu does a macho man impersonation as he twirls around Tatum. 

I fall a little back from the group, wondering if Billy will be there… he most likely will, won’t he? 

“I mean c'mon Sid? (Y/n), you with me? It could be fun.” Tatum says as she turns to us both. 

While the girls were focused on each other Stu looked over at me and snapped me out of my thoughts, literally. The loud noise made me look up. 

“Huh?” I asked, looking at the trio in front of me. 

“The party (y/n), you in?” Tatum asked as Stu kissed her neck

“Yeah fine, whatever. I’m in,” I said as I walked up in front of them. 

“Niiice,” Stu growled out, “Cool, you guys bring food, alright?” 

I don't know what it was but Stu did something which prompted me to shout, “You’re being weird Stu!” 

[mochiwrites]

Hello mochimoch my favourite mochicat. A polytechs prompt for you: the three of them going on a long distance date while Mumbo is travelling off server and Iskall is doing on Vault Hunters

ueueueue ty void, my favorite void 🥺

reminder that reblogs do more than likes <3

——————————

“Scar is doing what?!”

Iskall’s laugh comes through Grian’s communicator a bit choppy, too echoey and a bit robotic. The call does little in favor of the laugh, but Grian has heard it so much that the sound is forever ingrained in his ears. He can hear it quite clearly.

“He’s certainly more of a menace than a superhero,” Grian chuckles himself, shaking his head. “I think we’re all living in fear of being snipped from behind.”

“Gosh,” Mumbo sighs with a little amused huff, shaking his head. “I guess we got off server at the right time then.” He’s moving something around on camera, hands just out of frame. His sleeves are rolled up, and Grian can see bits of redstone dust on his shirt and face.

“Come on Mumbo,” Iskall says, “knowing your luck Scar’ll keep this up until you get back.” There’s something teasing in his voice, and it makes Grian smile softly, fond.

“I hate that you’re right,” Mumbo grumbles.

“How’s your Vaulting going, Iskall?” Grian inquires, looking at his camera.

With the way the camera is set up, Grian and Mumbo have a good view of the other’s storage set up. They’ve been rummaging through a bunch of their chests for a good portion of the call, crafting things. There’s some kind of altar set up that he’s been setting items down on.

“Oh, just great! Omega success!” Iskall answers, fiddling around with something in his hands. “Haven’t died once.”

There’s something about their tone that makes Grian and Mumbo share a look through the screen. “You totally did, didn’t you?” Grian questions.

“They definitely did.” Mumbo nods sagely in agreement.

“I— gah! Menaces, the two of you,” Iskall grumbles, making them both laugh. Iskall joins in a second later, and warm laughter echoes in the room of Mumbo’s vault. It almost sounds like they’re here with him.

Yearning burns in Grian’s chest as he looks at his partners, his smile softening at the edges. He’s wearing one of Iskall’s green hoodies over his jumper, and each time he breathes in he gets a soft whiff of spruce. Except the smell is beginning to fade. He watches both of them, and he aches.

“Everything alright over there, Gri?” Mumbo asks, looking at him. His camera is mostly clear, allowing Grian to clearly see the concerned look in his eyes.

“Huh?” Grian looks at him. “I’m fine.”

Iskall looks at him with a small frown. “You look like you’re seconds away from crying,” he pauses, “you’re also wearing my hoodie again, Birdie.”

Grian pauses, realizing very easily that he’s been caught. “I’m fine, really,” he says, because he is. He then hesitates, glancing around Mumbo’s unfinished vault. He sighs, wings drooping behind him slightly.

Mumbo had been the first to go off server, saying he needed to rediscover his spark. Grian could see the break was something he needed, and was the first to encourage him to take said break. Iskall was right behind him, and Grian thought he’d be just fine with Iskall around, that it’d make missing Mumbo easier.

But then Iskall had taken a break as well, and Grian was alone. They have their ways of staying in touch, in keeping each other in the loop and making sure they all know how loved they are. If Grian is being honest though, it isn’t the same as being able to fly to Mumbo or Iskall’s bases and flop into their arms. It isn’t the same as being in the same room as they are and laughing along, leaning against them when he can’t hold himself up.

His flock feels incomplete.

“I miss you both,” he admits, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh Gri,” Mumbo murmurs, “I miss you too.”

Iskall nods, “It’s weird being able to do redstone without worrying about a pesky bird dropping a potato in there.”

“Hey!” Grian squawks, “I didn’t know it’d do that!”

Warm laughter spills from Iskall as they grin at Grian, “And I’ll never let you live it down.” Their grin softens at the edges as their voice goes a bit softer, “I miss you both very much.”

Just hearing them say that makes his chest swell, and rather than diving any further into his emotions, Grian eyes them both, “I’m going to cover both of your bases in chickens. For a welcome home present.”

Mumbo goes pale and mutters something about leaving Grian unsupervised while Iskall laughs. But the important thing is Grian sees his feathers on both their persons (an earring in Mumbo’s ear, a bracelet around Iskall’s wrist), and he melts.

His flock has parts of him, too.

[istadris]

I’m back with another Mario Movie AU, because apparently I can’t stop.

(It’s not really intended as a Bowuigi / Bowsario / Powser scenario, but if you want to read it that way, be my guest and go wild with your ideas).

Luigi gets captured and taken to Bowser, you know the drill. BUT. Two details make a big difference from canon :

Luigi, who’s been in a Hobbit bingewatch recently, manages to take a leaf out of the “surviving the huge murderous dragon by stroking their ego” book and starts complimenting and praising Bowser, whose reputation spreads beyond this world, he claims. He’s only come here to admire the glory of such a magnificent king, the Terror of the Darklands, the Scourge of the Kingdoms, the King of Monsters (he’s pulling all of this out of what he’s heard and awkwardly guessed so far). How could he not, after everything he’s heard about him ?? And yet the tales pale in comparaison of the real thing. Yes, that’s totally why he’s here. “And that other human with a moustache ?” “ Do you think I know every human being with a moustache wearing an identical outfit with a hat with the letter of his first name on it?! ...Because I don't! That’s just how normal human males look like !!! Are your mask guys related just because they look like each other ??” Bowser, turning towards the Shy Guys: “Are you ?” “No!! Gross, we’re married, Sir!” “A-anyway, I’m sure that human (who has nothing to do with me at all) is here for the same reason as me! To meet you and tell you how much he finds you awesome! Not for your fiancé at all!”

Bowser is dumb enough to believe all of it.

So now Bowser is very happy because not only does he loves sycophants as a general rule, but this one is human! If just his reputation was enough to make human flock to his kingdom, surely Peach will be head over heels for him once she meets him ! Ha! Take that, random Ex-Koopa-Now-Dry-Bones !!

“Told you all I was irresistible! Now she WILL say yes!!!”

But because he wants to hit every single bullet point in human attraction (and not at all because he’s a bit nervous), he’s asking Luigi for his “opinion”. Which, for Luigi, amounts to stand around while Bowser is singing his lungs out  and pretends that yes, a human would totally be charmed by this!

“How about a mass ritual sacrifice for our wedding ?”

“Oh god, that’s a thing ???”

“Yes, obviously ! Pure Koopa wedding tradition! Won’t she love it?!”

“mamma mia...”

“What was that ?”

“I MEAN- Yeah that’s. That’s very cool, but how about you go even further ?”

“More victims? I mean, I can scrounge up some forced volunteers in my troops...”

“No!! Erm, how about you manage to win the war without making a single causality ? Any warlord can kill everyone on his path, but you’re THE Bowser! You don’t even need to use your full strength to be respected!”

“...That’s very stupid. And I don’t want to be respected, I want to be feared.”

“Well you didn’t hurt me (very much) and I fear AND respect you very much !”

“Fair point.”

“And if you manage to do that ? That Princess Peach, she’ll swoon straight into your arms!”

BONUS !

In the Rainbow Road battle, instead of falling in the sea, Mario and DK are captured and taken to Bowser (with Luigi present in the throne room).

Bowser is gloating and Mario is ready to fight despite the danger:

“So, human, did you also come here to sing my praises?”

“Oh I’ll sing something alright, you...”

“Brother!!” Luigi starts yelling in Italian, “for ONCE in your life, don’t pick a fight you can’t win and listen to me! Just pretend that the maniac with fire breath is the most amazing guy you’ve ever seen, our lives depend on it!”

“...you amazing, incredible and badass king, I can’t believe I ever tried to fight you!”, Mario quickly plays along to the point of dropping on one knee (but mostly to hide his gagging face).

Bowser immediately turns toward Luigi :

“What did you say?? What was that gibberish ?!”

“Eerrr Magic! Yes! To-to make him admit how much he finds you awesome!”

“You can use magic?!”

“Human magic!! That only works on humans!! Not on Koopas or whatever -not that I would have used it on you, of course, eh ehehe....”

“You can make humans fall in love with me on command ?? That’s even BETTER! Now Peach WILL marry me without any doubt!!”

[toboldlymuppet]

cranky fandom wank hours

It sucks that this is my post after a while of not updating art here but I have to say something about it. The level of vitriol and hate I’ve gotten as an Izzy fan (why yes, that fictional little pathetic man over on that little queer pirate show that speaks about kindness & acceptance, of growing past your trauma & toxic mentality, That One) has been 10x as worse than in any fandom I’ve been in, and I’ve been in fandom for more than a decade now. I’ve modded a fairly large game discord (at 100k+) and even then, I haven’t had death threats lobbied at me so aggressively until I got into this show. I was never shy about my anti-colonialism stance, my Filipino heritage, my sexuality or gender identity, especially having recently realized that I fall into the nb spectrum. Or all my stances on shitty IRL things that are both morally and legally reprehensible. And yet, the number of “racist/pedophile/rapist/colonizer/abuse apologist” I’ve gotten in my dms has pushed me enough to close my twitter dms & asks here, something I haven’t done at all (most especially on twitter where I’ve kept it open since 2014). People I know who enjoyed staying in our own lane & enjoying one rat bastard has gotten hate and death threats, we’ve had someone doxxed, many of us fear doxxing, I’ve been thrown into a list of ‘known rapists/abusers” for daring to do fanwork of my current favorite pirate. A lot of us fans are POC and trans and nonbinary, or somewhere around that spectrum, and yet we’ve been constantly drowned out by people who think that fandom = activism? Who act like surely it’s just a conglomerate of white cis fans who flock around Izzy. Nice, way to fuckin misgender and act like a white savior to us, oh wait, we POC/non-cis Izzy fans don’t exist, do we? Even then, so many fanwork of other POC characters on the show are by Izzy fans. Roach & Frenchie fanworks, iirc, where they’re not relegated into the side or disregarded, where they’re main characters in their own right, are primarily by us fans. We show the crew a good amount of love, and even then, if you don’t find the fanwork of a character or ship you’re looking for? Don’t attack the fans enjoying our own thing and do your own, commission an artist/writer, cultivate your own circle instead of attacking others. Izzy Hands is by far the least morally decrepit favorite I’ve gotten in many years, he’s nothing even remotely close to being ‘unredeemable’,  to apply morality to him & his fans, despite being a pirate in a fucking pirate show, totally known for their Goodwill To All Men and Upstanding Code of Ethics, is ridiculous and full of bad faith criticism. Also, can people stop tagging hate in his tag, what the fuck happened to fandom ethics or consideration, stop airing out your dirty laundry for the fans to see where we’re just here to have a good time and Stay In Our Lane. Anyway, I have a shitload of more to add but it’s 6am and I’ve frankly never been this exhausted by fandom before. This is why I’ve never done G/B stuff lol, despite having done so many wips on my initial watch. Is it cringe to have an entire vent about a sad small fictional man? Yes. But is it even cringer to focus all your time and energy into hating that guy & his fans? Also yes.

Good morning.

[lilyginnyblackv2]

By and large, the Buddy Daddies fandom has been great with the interpretation of Kazuki and Rei as being Queerplatonic and/or Platonic Life Partners. And as someone who is aroace, I am deeply happy and grateful for this, because far too often aspec based interpretations of queerness in fandom spaces are met with ridicule, flippant attitudes, or even downright hostility (ex. calling people homophobic for viewing queer characters as aspec instead of gay or lesbian, etc.).

Of course, every fandom has its bad apples. Here is an example of aphobia:

The tweet reads: The fact that Kazuki and Rei of Buddy Daddies share a bank account like...I know what you are what you are  🏳️‍🌈 I will not accept “queer platonic” fics and headcanons when Kazuki is very obviously Rei’s wife.

This person is making it very clear, by putting queer platonic in quotation marks, that they view this interpretation of Rei and Kazuki as not only wrong, but also as lesser than viewing them as a romantic and sexual gay relationship. 

This is what aphobia looks like in fandom spaces. I’ve seen it in, I believe, every fandom that I’ve been in (except The Bastard Son and the Devil Himself, iirc). People will mock or look down on the idea and concept of things like queerplatonic relationships or platonic life partners and state that the concepts sound like “just friends.” I’ve been harassed by someone and called a ch*ld pr*dator simply for making aspec based headcanons about fictional teen characters, and, like I mentioned above, I’ve been called homophobic and lesbophobic for daring to view some characters as being aspec instead of gay or lesbian.

Stuff like this may seem like not a big deal at the end of the day, since they aren’t huge injustices or anything like that, but stuff like this is still invalidating and can still sting. The Buddy Daddies fandom as a whole has been a hugely welcoming fandom in regards to aspec interpretations of the characters, and I love that! <3 It makes me feel safe and accepted, which is rare, because aspec voices and interpretations are usually mocked, ignored, or greeted with hostility in fandom spaces. 

So, all I ask is, if you see aphobic stuff like this happening in the Buddy Daddies fandom, please do anything BUT encourage it. Shut it down, ignore it, block. Anything like that is fine. Shipping Kazuki and Rei romantically and/or sexually is totally fine. I don’t mind that interpretation in the least and wouldn’t be upset if the series did end up going in that direction either.

But there is a reason a lot of aspec fans are flocking to this series, and that’s because this is such a good depiction of what a queerplatonic and/or platonic life partner partnership would look like. I don’t know. I know this likely isn’t the intention of the creators, specifically, since they just wanted to explore the themes of found family and a same-sex couple raising a child together, but it really does feel like being seen. I would want to live with a partner in a very similar way as Kazuki and Rei (minus the child, personally, lol), so seeing it normalized here and not being the constant butt of “are they gay?” or “no homo” or “we’re just friends” type of jokes and clarifications is so refreshing and validating.

Anyway, yeah, seeing that tweet just made me so...tired. I’m so tired of seeing aphobia in fandom spaces and it being treated as a big deal or not a big thing. So I figured I’d make this post to just let people know about the aspect experience a bit. 

Finally, just to clarify, this isn’t meant to be a discourse post or anything of that like. More of just a general awareness post of “Hey, see this? Not cool, and here is why.” type of thing. But, I love and adore the Buddy Daddies fandom and just want to continue seeing it be such a warm fandom space for aspec fans. <3

[turtle-steverogers]

Okay so I've have this idea ever since I watched Endgame and I can't figure out how to make it work pothole wise but I have to share with you.

So you know the part where Tony and Steve go back in time to the 1970s? Ever since I watched that I was like "What if something goes wrong and they accidentally end up in Steve's childhood instead??" I know you like A+ parenting from Joseph Rogers and I can't stop thinking about Steve and Tony's tumbling on top of a scene between little Steve and angry Joe Rogers.

Just imagine, first they're simply standing in front of like, a run-down building and they're both kind of confused of why they're there but then they see this little tiny kid playing with marbles or something next to the street. And Tony is busy processing the fact that they're in the wrong year and that the kid looks like Steve and that he looks so small and thin.

So he doesn't realize that Steve tenses up when they hear a shout from the building. And they look up to see a burly man come out looking mad and maybe a little bit drunk and little Steve scrambled to pick up his marbles but Joe grab him first and is yelling at him with his fingers in a vice grip around his arm.

And Tony looks at Steve and Steve is pale as a sheet and doing that thing where you revert back to how you were in that time because you haven't processed any of the feelings you had then, and Tony figures out what's going on in a horrifying abrupt flash of realization.

(And then maybe Tony steps into confront the dad, despite knowing it's going to influence the timeline. I don't know about that though because it will just cause more problems for little Steve once they leave so maybe he tries and then big Steve is like no don't! And then they have to talk about it.)

Like I said I can't figure out how to write this scene because it doesn't make any sense for both of them to somehow land in the 1920s and also how on Earth are they going to get to the '70s if they run out of Pym particles etc but I don't care because I want to see it so bad.

Oh god, logistics be damned, because i’m just picturing the scene

-

“Ah, shit--”

“What the hell?”

It happens so fast that Steve loses his footing, crashing backwards and nearly bringing both him and Tony down as he’s yanked bodily into an alleyway. He stumbles, straightens, blinking hard against the blood rushing from his head before Tony’s grip on his arm tightens hard enough that Steve winces. 

“We’re in the wrong place,” Tony says.

“What?” Steve is certain he must have heard him wrong. He must have, because the city is loud around them and cars are whirring by in what has to be afternoon traffic, children yelling down the street, some kid hawking papers and kicking up a flock of pigeons as he shouts, “Paper! Getcha paper! Family dies in horrific car accident, went straight offa the Bridge! Two cents!”

And it’s a lie. Steve knows it’s a lie, because he used to lie to sell papers for the entire two years he hawked them back in ‘25, because his dad was blowing all their money on whiskey and gin and they needed to eat. 

“Oh god.” He turns, head on a slow swivel, looking around. 

He knows this alleyway. He knows this street, the buildings, tall and laden with clotheslines, running from fire escape to fire escape like veins bleeding life into the city. 

They’re in the wrong place. They’re in the wrong time. 

He looks at Tony, who looks just as stricken as he looks back. 

“We messed up,” Tony says. “Big time. Except we totally didn’t mess up, because I am positively certain that we put in the right date and time and this isn’t New Jersey, this definitely isn’t New Jersey.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve agrees, and he looks at the street. Dares to look, because he knows if he angles himself just right, he’ll see his old building. The one he lived in with his ma and dad, then just his ma, then eventually Bucky and--

He squeezes his eyes shut. He needs to think. About the mission, about the Pym Particles that were evidently wasted when someone or something sent them to the wrong place and time. Not about the familiar smell of the city street. Dust and motor oil and the faint scent of boiled corn. Not about ghosts that are drifting around him. Not about the fact that if he cranes his neck just so…

“We need to-- I don’t know what we need to do, but we need to do something. Fuck, what year is it even? We’re-- where are we? I don’t even know where we--”

“Brooklyn,” Steve says, opening his eyes. He can’t quite breathe, the reality of the situation settling in. Tugging at his ribcage. He’s going to vomit, he thinks. Maybe. “I don’t know when, but we’re in Brooklyn. Sometime around my time.”

“Okay, so this is definitely targeted, because that is way too specific to be a random mistaken coincidence,” Tony rambles, tapping frantically on his Time-Space GPS. 

It’s no use. Steve knows it’s no use, because they’re out of Pym Particles. Collectively. And there’s no way of letting the others know about their predicament. 

They’re stuck. They’re well and truly stuck. 

Steve should feel more panicked, he knows that, but he’s stuck, incapable of moving. Of feeling anything other than abject horror as he finally gives into the urge to shift his gaze, lean slightly to the side, and look around toward his old building.

Kneeling on the front steps is a little boy, knobbly knees folded on the ground as he leans over, rolling some marbles around on the ground with great focus. His blond hair is dirty, falling in front of his eyes, which he reaches up to push out of the way, and Steve recognizes his clothes-- the brown, wool shorts he liked to wear and a ratty gray button up pulled out of the waistband. He’s barefoot, because it’s warm out, and it never mattered if he was wearing shoes or not when it was warm out. In fact, it made his leg braces easier to wear, which are fastened around his legs at an uncomfortable angle.

“1924,” he says.

Tony stops his rambling, and Steve realizes he's been talking to him. 

“What?”

“It’s 1924.”

Tony frowns, looking at him. “How do you know?” He follows Steve’s gaze, then freezes next to him. “Oh my god, that’s not-- is that--”

“Yeah,” Steve says, feeling like he might pass out as he watches his little self shift around, tugging at the straps of his leg braces, trying to stop them from digging into his calves so hard. His fingers flex at his side, and he can almost still feel the dull ache in his knees. “That’s me. Fuck. Oh my god.”

And he remembers this. Remembers the way the marbles felt in his hand, remembers being sad because Bucky had been out of town with his family that week, so he had no one to play with. Remembers what’s about to happen next--

“Fuck, there you are, boy!” 

Steve can just make out the words over the throng of the city, knows people are looking, but it’s not out of the ordinary for the time, so no one is stopping. No one in the city ever stops. Not for business that isn’t theirs. 

“Oh my god,” Tony says next to him, and Steve’s eyes are glued on the scene as a man comes barreling out of the building, burly and tall and looming, going straight for the little boy on the steps. The stuff of Steve’s nightmares, all wild eyed and sweaty. He’d been real mean that week. Work had laid him off when he failed to show up for the millionth time, too drunk to know up from down, and Steve and his marbles had paid the price. “Is that-- who��s that?”

Steve swallows, tastes biles, makes his throat work.

“My dad.”

There’s a pause. They’re both still watching as his dad yanks on his little self’s arm. The marbles slip out of his grip. He starts crying as a few tumble down the drain, and he tries to yank himself away, tries to go after them, but he’s too little. 

“I thought he died in the war.”

Steve sways. He doesn’t know how he’s still standing. All the blood has rushed away from his head, pooling in his stomach, making it churn. He hasn’t thought about his dad in years. Hasn’t let himself.

“Yeah,” he says. “He might as well have.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

His dad is dragging him up the steps, slapping him hard across the face when he starts to wail.

“That fucker,” Tony spits next to him, taking a few steps forward, and he sounds angrier than Steve has heard in a while. It startles him, and he reaches out, grabs Tony’s bicep.

“Tony, wait-- what are you--”

“Shit, I can’t just let him--”

They tussle for a moment as Steve manages to drag Tony back. He can’t let him go out there, can’t let him mess up the timeline.

“You’re gonna fuck this up worse for us if you go out there,” Steve says, backing them both further into the alleyway. 

He doesn’t need to look to know he’s gone deadweight, crying on his way up the steps, his dad wrestling with him to stand up, quit crying, quit being a goddamn sissy.

Tony’s expression is stricken, eyes wide and tight and Steve kicks himself, remembering that Howard had not been kind either. At least from what he’s gathered. He has never considered him and Tony to be much the same in any sense, but maybe they share more pain than he thought. 

“Besides, if you go out there and try to help, he’s only going to-- he’s gonna--” Steve stops talking, mouth too dry. 

He remembers the time George Barnes had tried to intervene after Bucky had told him that Steve’s dad hit him sometimes. The beating he’d gotten that night for messing with his dad’s reputation had been debilitating. He’d had to miss school for two days, and Bucky had cried when he saw him next, apologizing for getting him hurt.

Steve had hugged him, and they’d been okay. But no one had ever tried to intervene again.

Tony studies his face, and Steve can’t look him in the eye. Abruptly, he lets go of Tony’s arm, lungs compressing. He never wanted anyone to know, and it feels like his entire soul is on display, all old pains and exposed skin. Hand-shaped bruises and cigarette burns on the ghost of himself.

He’s told himself it’s fine. War had been worse, watching his home get ravaged by aliens had been worse. But he’s learning that there is no worse. No quantifying pain. Not when it raised him.

“Okay,” Tony says, his tone quiet. Understanding. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Steve shifts, looks down at the ground. 

“It’s fine,” he says, then clears his throat. He needs to focus. They need to focus. “We need to figure out how to get the fuck out of here.”

Tony shakes himself, even though he still looks deeply disturbed. 

“Right,” he says, looking down at the Time-Space GPS. “Okay, right, okay.”

Steve turns, casting one last glance to the stoop of the rundown building. It’s empty now, and he closes his eyes, letting the tears well. He’s scared, he realizes. As scared as he was in that moment, confused why his dad hates him and sad that he lost his marbles. He wants to cry for that little boy. He wants to pull him into a hug and tell him that he’s not dirty or bad. That the pain will wane, then wax again. 

That he will survive, and keep going, just like he always does. 

-

They find the glitch in the system, the diversion sent from some future version of evil to throw them off the scent of the Pym Particles. It’s easy enough to maneuver their way through Camp Lehigh and get more, once they make it there, then the world ends again and Steve watches his friends nearly die and his shield breaks.

It’s hell. Concentrated, fast moving hell.

And then the world is still again.

He’s tired, he thinks as he sits on Tony’s dock. The rest of the team are inside, celebrating another win. Celebrating him passing a new shield off to Sam-- one Tony had graciously crafted him once they made it back home. 

He’d slipped away some time after toasts were being made, waving Bucky away when he tried to follow. He needs to be alone, just for a bit. He needs to breathe, to watch the water ripple beneath his feet and listen to dragonflies buzz over the water.

It isn’t often that he’s taken the time to slow down. To breathe, and appreciate the world as it is, whole and teeming with life. He thinks maybe now that he’s retired, he ought to do that more.

Maybe he’ll take up hiking. Or something. Maybe Bucky will join him, always being one for adventure himself. Rolling up his jeans to wade out into the waters of Coney Island, just so he can feel the sand between his toes, Becca on his back, kicking the water and splashing Steve, who’d been following close behind. 

“Spangles, I thought I’d find you out here, looking all morose and contemplative.”

Steve looks over to see Tony approaching him, limping, his arm still in a sling. It had been a near catastrophic feat, using his own gauntlet to snap Thanos out of existence, but he’d done it and made it out alive.

“Yup, that’s me, morose and contemplative Steve.” He shifts over, letting Tony sit. 

It feels final in a way. Like they’re finally past whatever barrier kept them at odds for so many years. It seems that this time, the world ending had finally cemented their trust in each other. 

“Saw you slip away from the party,” Tony says. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just needed some quiet,” Steve says. They’re sitting close enough that Steve can hear Tony’s heartbeat with his enhanced hearing. It’s a comfort. “How’s your arm?”

“Oh, you know, a little achy, a little crisp. I still haven’t been able to truly wash it, aside from sponge baths, so it’s definitely a little ripe, too, but it’s getting there.”

Steve snorts, long since used to Tony’s chronic oversharing.

“Well, I’m glad it doesn’t hurt too bad?”

“Not too bad, no,” Tony says. It’s quiet for a moment, and they watch a gray heron land on a log. Steve takes a mental picture of it to draw later. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was your dad like that a lot?”

Steve sighs. He’s been wondering when this would come up. They didn’t talk about it after the fact-- there hadn’t been any time-- but the space between them has felt thick with the unsaid, even with everything going on.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” He hears the shake in Tony’s voice, and looks at him. “How old were you when we were there?”

“Six,” Steve says. “It was three days before my birthday.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony says. “Did anyone know?”

“Bucky did, but no one else. He died when I was nine, and I told everyone after that that he’d died in the war. It messed him up good.” 

“Damn,” Tony says. “Look, I know we’ve had our moments. Like, really tough moments, but I care about you, yeah? I give a damn, even if I’m still learning the correct ways to show that.” He shakes his head, licks his lips. Steve watches him, holding his breath. “Just… I’m here for you, okay? I know what it’s like having a shitty dad, and mine never-- never hurt me like that, but he messed me up plenty good in other ways. So if you ever, I don’t know, want to talk about it, or just need someone who you don’t have to explain yourself to, I’m here.”

It’s the most vulnerable they’ve voluntarily been around each other, and Steve reaches out, placing his hand over Tony’s on the pier. The one that isn’t injured. His skin is warm. They’re both here, broken parts of a whole. With an exhale, Steve feels like they’ve finished a chapter, ready to start a new one, on the same page.

“Thank you, Tony. I’m here, too.”

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Afterlife Lessons

Masterlist

Art For This Chapter: @torchturtle link

Chapter Eight:

“Okay,” Sam said, as soon as she and Tucker started walking back home from Danny’s, in the same direction for now.  “So clearly we misjudged how much Danny agrees with his parents.”

“Oh gee, you think?” Tucker said.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Sam said.  “We’re just gonna have to convince him, that’s all.”

“That’s all?  Sam, we don’t even know what we’re talking about yet.  Our best option right now is to turn into ghosts right in front of him and say ‘hey, we don’t feel evil.’  And I think I don’t need to explain why that’s a bad idea.”

“Well I didn’t say I was going all in on convincing him by tonight,” Sam said.  “We’ll just have to figure it out.  We can take our time.”

“Sure, sounds great,” Tucker said, rolling his eyes.  “And in the meantime we’ll just deal with the fact that our best friend thinks we’re monsters now?”

“Oh, my god, would you give it a rest?” Sam said, giving Tucker a glare.  “You’re acting like I’m thrilled about this.  Look, we misjudged Danny’s reaction.  But we know where we are now, and we’re going to be able to come up with a game plan.  For now, how about you take a deep breath and stop freaking out?”

“And do what instead?” Tucker asked, crossing his arms.

Sam shrugged.  “I don’t know.  We can fly now.  You want to go flying?”

“Your solution to Danny thinking we’re both monsters now is to go turn into those monsters he thinks we are?” Tucker deadpanned.

“Sure, why not?” Sam said, starting to grin as she really considered the idea.  “Phantom helped us with the basic stuff, but now it’s our turn to figure out how we want to use our new cool as hell ghost powers.  Let’s go see what kind of fun we can have!”

She could see Tucker starting to consider it as she talked, and she could see the moment she had him.

“Alright,” Tucker said.  “But only if you—”

“Fantastic!” Sam called, grabbing his arm and pulling them both down a side alley, behind a dumpster and out of sight.  Tucker figured out what she was doing with just enough time to transform before Sam did exactly the same and pulled them both into the sky.

“Are you ever going to let me finish my sentences?” Tucker asked.

“Nah, that’s boring,” Sam said with a grin.  “Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” Tucker said, casting his gaze around.  “I mean, we probably shouldn’t, like, leave Amity Park.”

“Well no duh,” Sam said.  “I mean like— oh look a flock of birds!”  She grabbed Tucker’s and yanked them both upwards.  Unfortunately, she misjudged just how fast they were going and landed them right in the center of the flock, scattering them everywhere.  And when she let go of Tucker a second after, he went flying further up into the air past her.

“Okay,” Tucker snapped, flying back down to hover next to her.  “You’ve really got to stop grabbing me now.”

“Sorry!” Sam called to the birds around them.  She got a couple of angry chirps, but the birds regrouped in the space in front of them.

“I’ll get better with more practice,” Sam said, turning back to Tucker with a bright grin on her face.

“Good for you,” Tucker said, sounding less than enthusiastic.

“Tucker?  Sam?” came a newly-familiar voice.

“Phantom!  Hey!” Sam said, turning around with another grin in his direction.  “We’re not like, interrupting patrol or anything, right?”

“No, I do that later at night,” Phantom said, flying casually over to them.  “But what are you two doing up here?”

“Oh, that,” Sam said.  “So, fun story.  Turns out you were totally right about what Danny would probably think about ghosts, and it kind of really sucked to hear.  So we both came out here to have some fun and cheer ourselves up.”

Phantom frowned.  “Oh,” he said.  “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you were the one who tried to warn us,” Tucker said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said, waving it off.  “Moving on for now.  What kind of stuff do you do for fun?”

Phantom blinked, turning to face her.  “Fun?”

“Yeah, as a ghost!  What kind of stuff do you do?”

Phantom looked at her for another moment, like he still couldn’t understand the question.

“Uh,” Sam said, starting to get vaguely concerned.  “You do stuff for fun, right?”

“Stargazing’s fun,” Phantom said.

Sam blinked.  “Oh.  Really?”

“Yeah, you get a really good view from up in the air,” Phantom said.

“Oh yeah, I bet,” Tucker said.  “Plus you can totally sneak into the observatory!”

“That’s trespassing,” Phantom said, finally starting to smile a little bit.  “I’m supposed to be the hero?”

“Boooo,” Tucker said.  “Take a day off.”

“Heck yeah, let’s go,” Sam said with a grin.

“Go do what?” Phantom asked.

“Break into the observatory!  Tonight, after your patrol thing!  Breaking and entering has to be so easy when you can turn intangible.  Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Phantom said hesitantly, but Sam could tell how much he wanted to go (why could she tell that?).

“Great,” she said, rather than bothering with an argument when none of them wanted to have it.  “Meet you there at 10!”

“That’s not what I— Sam!”

But Sam had already grabbed Tucker’s arm and was flying after the birds in the distance.

Tucker was laughing now too, meaning she’d succeeded in her goal of cheering him up and gotten them all plans to go to the observatory tonight.

…Which Danny would have loved to do.

Well, when they convinced Danny that ghosts weren’t evil, they could bring him along.  Until then, missing out was his own fault.

Mostly.  It was a little bit his parents’ fault.

…

Sam approached the front door to her house slowly.  Her parents had called the Foley house a couple of times at this point, she really couldn’t wait any longer.

But that didn’t mean she was ready to see them.  She hadn’t seen them since the last time she left for school, before everything happened.  She doubted they’d be able to tell something was different.  If Tucker’s parents hadn’t, hers definitely wouldn’t.  But she would know.  And she still wasn’t entirely sure how to play any of it.

Her reluctance, however, didn’t stop her front door from eventually being right in front of her.  And if she stood here for too long, she’d look like a weirdo, or a stalker, so finally, she unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen.

Her mother was making pasta on the stove, but as soon as she saw Sam she set her spoon down on the counter and rushed over towards her.

“Sam!” she called, reaching out and taking her face in her hands, turning it back and forth.  “Oh, thank goodness you’re finally home, I was so worried!  Are you feeling better?  Those Foleys are horrid cooks, don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t ever have to eat there again!”

Nevermind, this would be easy.

“Mom,” Sam groaned, taking a step back and out of her mother’s grasp.  “Honestly, I’m fine.  Don’t blame Tucker’s family for some bad lettuce.”

“It wasn’t just the lettuce,” her mom said, pointing an accusatory finger in no real direction.  “Tucker got sick too, and I know you’re not trying to tell me that boy has started eating his vegetables.”

“Either way, it’s fine,” Sam said.  “I’m fine, I feel fine, and I’m totally ready to go back to school tomorrow.”  Her hand started tingling, and in the split second before it turned intangible, Sam managed to shove it behind her back.

“If you say so,” her mom said.  “But go say hello to your father.  And don’t think I won’t be watching those Foleys closer from now on.”

“Mom!” Sam groaned again, even as she did go to find her dad.

She didn’t have to look too hard, as her dad had clearly heard her, and showed up at the top of the stairs as she made her way toward them.

“Pumpkin!” he called, walking down the steps as Sam started up them.  He met her halfway and pulled her into a hug that had Sam sighing in exasperation.

“How do you feel?” he asked, pulling back and taking Sam’s face in his hands.

“Like we shouldn’t be doing this on the stairs,” Sam said, taking a step back.  “And like I want some time alone in my room.”

“Oh alright, just know dinner’s happening soon!” he called, starting down the stairs and thankfully letting Sam start up them.

She sighed again and walked to the top of the steps, intent on heading for her room.

Instead, however, she heard the familiar sound of her grandmother’s scooter rolling towards her, and suddenly her heart leapt to her throat.

“Hi, Grandma,” Sam said, doing her best to smile in a way that said nothing was different.

Unfortunately, her grandma had always had an easier time seeing through her than her parents.

She gave Sam a knowing smile.  “Were you really sick?”

Sam bit her lip and shook her head.

“Were you safe?” her grandma asked.

Sam nodded.

“Good.”  And with that, her grandma drove past her and towards the chair lift.

Sam smiled a little after her and started for her room.

Dinner was pretty standard, apart from one time she had to get up to use the bathroom because she could tell she was about to transform.  Thankfully, she could turn back without much issue, and then she just waited in the bathroom until a normal amount of time had passed.

And when dinner was over (and she’d eaten way more than she usually did, to the point that her parents started giving her strange looks), she went up to her room and hung out there until 9:30, when she heard her parents head upstairs to their own bedroom.  As soon as she heard their door close, she walked over and locked her own, and then headed over to her window.  She transformed, waited an extra moment to make sure no one else was coming to check on her, and then turned intangible and flew out her window.

She was planning on heading straight to the observatory, with a quick stop at Tucker’s house, since it was on the way.

Tucker apparently had the same idea, as he was waiting out front as she arrived.

Sam gave him a mischievous grin as she flew closer.  “You ready to do some breaking and entering?”

“Absolutely,” Tucker said with a grin of his own.  “You know, and stargazing I guess.”

“Oh yeah, that’s like, secondary,” Sam agreed.  “I’m gonna steal something from the gift shop.”

Tucker snorted.  “Something tells me Phantom won’t let us do that.”

“Well, he already told us we can’t be ghost fighting superheroes, so we have no choice but to become supervillains now.”

“Yeah, that’s totally how that works.”

“You don’t know,” Sam said, moving to fly away from Tucker’s house and start for the observatory.

They made pretty good time, though they still found Phantom there before them, even if he was a little ways off.

“There’s security cameras around the outside of the building,” he said as Sam and Tucker flew down to meet him.  “If we’re breaking in, we’ll need to do it from here.”

“Got it.  Meet you guys inside!” Sam called, and before either of them could say anything, she turned intangible and flew over towards the building.  She didn’t check back to see if they were following, instead flying right through the wall and lobby, and not stopping until she reached what was clearly the intended room for stargazing.

Then she lowered herself to the floor and turned back into a human.

“Geez, Sam,” came Tucker’s voice a second later, as both he and Phantom showed up through the wall.  “You think you could give me a little warning next time you fly off like that?”

Tucker landed next to Sam and turned back into a human too.

“Well I gotta keep you on your toes,” Sam said with a grin.

“Do you really?”

“Yes.  Now how does this thing work, Phantom, because I have no idea.”  Sam directed the last part upwards, to where Phantom was still floating above them.  After a second, he lowered himself down to the floor, and his tail shifted into two legs.

“It’s a giant telescope, Sam,” he said.  “It’s really not that complicated.”

“Oh, okay, you set it up then,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Phantom met her gaze like a challenge.  “Fine, I will,” he said.  “Just a heads up, we’re probably going to have about five minutes to do this once I start.  It’s gonna be loud.”

Sam gave a maniacal snicker, rubbing her hands together.  “Speed run,” she said.  “Then we fly off, right?  Or do we just turn into ghosts and scare off the guards?”

“Again, I’m the good guy,” Phantom said.  He flew up to a platform above them that had a large telescope on it.  Sam transformed and flew up after him, and Tucker did the same, after Sam saw him eyeing the stairs and clearly disapproving.

Sure enough, the roof of the observatory made quite a loud noise as it started to slide open.  Tucker gave Phantom a nervous look, but for her part, Sam found herself starting to grin like a birthday girl.

Phantom seemed to know what he was doing, so it wasn’t too long before he looked through the telescope, stepped back, and nodded at it.

Sam took that as a cue to look, and stepped forward to look through the lens.  Through it, she could see clear images of stars and galaxies that she had no names for.  Even still, she was grinning as she pulled back and gestured for Tucker to do the same.

“Okay,” Tucker said as he pulled back.  “That does look really cool.”

“I know, right?” Phantom said, a sudden excitement in his voice that Sam hadn’t been expecting.  He darted back over to the telescope and started looking through, glee spilling into every word.  “If we had more time I could find Venus, but it’s not right where the telescope is pointing, and I have a feeling any second—”

“Hey, you kids can’t be in here!”

“And that’s our cue to go!” Phantom called, darting into the air to the surprised cry of the people below.  Tucker followed him quickly, but Sam hung around for one extra second and waved at the security guards.  “Just tell them it was ghosts!” she called.  “They’ll believe you, and you won’t even be lying!”

And with that, she flew off after Tucker and Phantom.

They were clearly hovering just outside the observatory waiting for her, but Sam shot past them, laughing in delight and soaring higher into the air.

“That,” she said, turning to grin at Phantom and Tucker as she stopped, “was the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Phantom smiled a little back at her, though it seemed a mix of exasperated and amused.  “Oh yeah?”

“Well, we didn’t get to make it to the gift shop to steal a bunch of stuff, so we’ll have to go back,” Tucker said.  “But agreed.”

“Oh my god, again, I’m supposed to be the— I can’t just let you guys steal things!”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Sam said, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Don’t you guys have school tomorrow?” Phantom said, crossing his arms.

“You’re really no fun,” Tucker said, crossing his arms.  “Is it gonna be all rules and regulations and hero stuff with you?”

Phantom smiled a little bit, and Sam finally spotted the mischievousness she’d known somehow was there.  “Hey, I showed up too, didn’t I?”

“Yeah you did,” Sam said, grinning at him.  “So what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Phantom gave her an exhausted look.  “I’m never going to be able to patrol with you guys around, am I?”

“Why would you want to anyway?” Sam asked.

“Because that’s my job.  There are actual people to protect from ghosts, you know,” Phantom said in a clearly more serious tone.

“Okay, new plan then,” Sam said.  “Let us help you!”

“Absolutely not,” Phantom said immediately, all traces of joking gone from his voice.

“Well, why not?” Sam said.  “We’ve got the hang of the basics now.”

“Exactly, the basics,” Phantom said.  “Ghost fights don’t deal with basics.  They’re fast paced and dynamic and they can be brutal.  I’m not going to let you do anything like that until you at least have complete control of your intangibility.  And especially not alone.”

“You do it alone,” Sam pointed out.

“I’m not a beginner.”

Sam scowled.

“Okay, hey, back off,” Tucker said, nudging her in the side.  “He’s right.  We’d just get hurt.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sam grumbled.  “I’ll let it go.”  For now, she added in her head.

But there was such a relief in Phantom’s tone when he said “Thank you,” in response, that for a moment Sam almost wondered if she should drop it forever.

Before she could give it a lot of thought, however, someone from down below yelled, “Hey!” and Sam was back to grinning again.

“Okay, we should go,” she said, with a bright smile to both Tucker and Phantom.  “Race you guys to the Nasty Burger!”

She darted off before either of them could protest, laughing probably louder than advised.