#elm street group
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On the turntable today...
Freddy's Greatest Hits by The Elm Street Group featuring Freddy Krueger Robert Barton Englund (1988)
Are You Ready For Freddy? by Fat Boys featuring Robert Englund & Heather Langenkamp (1988) (12" Single)
Dream Warriors by Dokken (1987) (12" Single) Autographed by Don Dokken, George Lynch and Jeff Pilson
Working Girl Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (1988)
Roll With It by Steve Winwood (1988)
#elmstreetgroup #freddy #freddykrueger #robertenglund #freddysgreatesthits #fatboys #areyoureadyforfreddy #heatherlangenkamp #anightmareonelmstreet4thedreammaster #Dokken #dreamwarriors #anightmareonelmstreet3dreamwarriors #workinggirl #stevewinwood #rollwithit #80s #records #album #lp #12inch #12inchvinyl #vinylrecords #vinyl #autograph #dondokken #georgelynch #JeffPilson
#elm street group#freddy's greatest hits#freddy krueger#freddy#Robert Englund#a nightmare on elm street#fat boys#are you ready for freddy#Heather Langenkamp#Dokken#dream warriors#a nightmare on elm street 3 dream warriors#a nightmare on elm street 4 the dream master#autograph#don dokken#George Lynch#Jeff Pilson#Working Girl#Steve Winwood#roll with it#80s#records#album#lp#12 inch#12 inch vinyl#vinyl records#vinyl#Spotify
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#born to be the final girl in an 80s summer slasher#not that i wanna watch all of my friends die#but i like the vibe#summer slasher#slashers#the final girl#the final girl support group#scream 1996#ghostface#michael myers#halloween#friday the 13th#jason voorhees#nightmare on elm street#freddy krueger#horror movie fan
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Our GC casually tryna figure out if Freddy Krueger of all people still has a dick.
Yes this is very normal. Yes there is MORE {I REACHED THE MAX AMOUNT OF SCREENSHOTS FOR A POST HELP-}
If you have somehow read through all this, I give you full permission to give me a slasher ask of WHATEVER you want me to draw.
You deserve it after reading all this shit XD
#oh this ESCALATES fast#a lot of penis talk#like... a lot#a shit ton of Freddy penis talk#I reached max pics on a post#group chat#freddy krueger#slasher films#slashers#slasher fandom#a nightmare on elm street#slasher movies#slasher#discord shenanigans
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⚠︎ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐬 𝐑𝐏 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫 ⚠︎
Dare to enter the realm of darkness? Join our 18+ Discord RP server, where nightmares come to life and horror tales unfold. 🌙
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﹒⌕ 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘼𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙏𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐:
🎬┊Active Roleplay Channels: Explore dedicated channels for each horror universe.
🪢┊Interactive Storytelling: Craft your narrative alongside other passionate horror enthusiasts.
🌑┊Character Development: Unearth the depths of your character's psyche in a chilling atmosphere.
🕸️┊Fun and open chat environment to talk and theorize about your favorite shows/medias/characters!
❗┊Reliable and laid back moderation team who wants YOU to get the characters YOU want to write and have fun while doing it.
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﹒⌕ 𝙒𝙀 𝙊𝙁𝙁𝙀𝙍:
🔗┊POC, neurodivergent, and LGBTQ+ friendly zones!
📍┊The chance for you to request a horror franchise you may be interested in to add to the fun!
📋┊Simple character submissions with many slots open.
📬┊Friendly and understanding staff team, with a chance for members to apply to become a part of the staff as well!
🤖┊Tupperbox roleplay. Easy setup, even more simple to use.
🔏┊Private dms and group chats!
🎮┊Game nights, movie nights, crossover events, open to partnerships, and many more channels for friends to relax in.
🔪┊Some of the fandoms we encourage include the following: Dead By Daylight, NBC’s Hannibal, The Last Of Us, Silent Hill, Resident Evil, A Nightmare On Elm Street, American Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Black Christmas, Halloween, The Walking Dead, Friday The 13th, Saw, The Quarry, Psycho, House Of Wax, Child’s Play, The Boy, Scream, Five Nights At Freddy’s, The Evil Within, Outlast, Evil Dead.
📝┊More horror franchises to come! All you have to do is ask.
⚰️┊Original Characters: Not seeing anything that grabs your attention? OCs are always welcome!
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📜┊Join us: https://discord.gg/vdpctvFNJj
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Unleash your darkest fantasies and face the horrors that await. Will you emerge victorious or succumb to the shadows? The choice is yours. 💉🩹
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#18+ rp#Discord RP#group rp#discord group rp#horror rp#oc rp#original rp#dark rp#tupperbox rp#Dead By Daylight rp#Hannibal rp#The Last Of Us rp#Silent Hill rp#Resident Evil rp#A Nightmare On Elm Street rp#American Psycho rp#The Texas Chainsaw Massacre rp#Black Christmas rp#Halloween rp#The Walking Dead rp#Friday The 13th rp#Saw rp#The Quarry rp#Psycho rp#House Of Wax rp#Child’s Play rp#The Boy rp#Scream rp#Five Nights At Freddy’s rp#The Evil Within rp
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Holy shitttt, the most insufferable people in the whole world are people who dismiss slasher movies as “simple” and just about the killing. What do you mean you think slashers don’t have back stories ???? What do you mean you think all slashers are misogynistic!?!?!?????? Good god watch something other than the first Friday the thirteenth and Terrifier PLEASE
#No hate to fridaythe thirteenth#It just is kinda the only slasher people have seen and thus decide to base their entire perception of the genre on it#sparrow speaks#forcing people like this to watch scream#Or any of the nightmare on elm street sequels#Or fuck any modern slasher ! So many new slashers are doing great things to subvert old misogynist and homophobic groups in a self aware an#Fun way !#To reiterate: your allowed to not like slashers but if you don’t like them cause you think their all misogynist and shallow and are all gor#Your watching the wrong ones and I’d be more than happy to recommend others
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"That's the second time you've saved yourself by playing possum," Steph says. "How'd you do it?" "Plate in my head," I say. "Goddamn," she says softly. "To be honest, I barely skimmed your Wikipedia page. I'm not interested in roadkill. This skunky junkie, on the other hand, she's big game." "Fucking superfans," Heather says. "Whatever, grandma," Stephanie says.
The Final Girl Support Group, by Grady Hendrix
#page 323#the final girl support group#grady hendrix#final girl support group#final girl#horror#horror trope#lynnette tarkington#heather deluca#stephanie fugate#lynnette#heather#stephanie#silent night deadly night#nightmare on elm street#quote#quotes#literature#book#booklr#reading#shoulda done your research steph baby#that roadkill and her metal plate just fucked up your day
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The Final Girl Support Group - Horror Novel Review
Author: Grady Hendrix Publisher: Titan Books Country: USA Year: 2021 Anyone who knows me knows I love my Grady Hendrix. He’s the maestro of the self-aware horror homage novel, with titles such as My Best Friend’s Exorcism and Horrorstor making a massive splash when they landed. Giving the supernatural a break for a bit, he turns his hand to the slasher subgenre, which makes one wonder if you…
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#a nightmare on elm street#book critic#book review#friday the 13th#ghostface#grady hendrix review#halloween#horror book review#horror books#horror critic#horror novel review#horror review#michael myers#scream#slasher#slasher film#slasher flick#slasher movies#slasher review#the final girl support group review#thriller review
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Darkest Desire
Based off of this nonnie request! It’s a bit scarier than intended and I do apologise for that teehee. There’s also no smut…
Blurb: With a group of friends you visit the local Halloween Scare walk, an event that is hosted annually out in the creepy plaines of Hawkins and whilst it’s masks on for the locals, it’s very much masks off for the scare actors…
Pairing: Scare Actor!Eddie x Reader
Warnings: 18+, the holiday of Halloween is mentioned, talk of blood/gore, faux blades/knives, cursing, reader is referred to as girl, use of pet names, degrading, praising, stalking (cat&mouse), sly/cocky and slightly mean!Eddie. Characters are all 20+
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divider by @reveriesources
Crunchy dry blood orange leaves litter the earth and frost tainted wind nips at your nose and cheeks. The squeals of excited children racing by your costume clad frame fills your ears with immense joy and you giggle airily as they launch themselves into one another. Racing toward the brightly lit luminescent funfair games in hopes of winning a stuffed animal or a goldfish in a bag.
Their parents lug behind them, their attire consisting of some makeshift costume they had thrown together at the last minute in hopes of pleasing their tiny humans and earning themselves a quiet car ride without any tantrums or fuss.
Your group, on the other hand, weren’t here for the childish and conning games. You were all here for the Scare Walk.
You hadn’t agreed on a coherent group costume so it was a pick and mix of totally different genres and ideas and from an outside perspective it was abundantly clear that there was no communication on the matter whatsoever.
Steve was dressed as the main character from Nightmare On Elm Street, Freddy Kruger. Nancy clearly had helped with the makeup aspect of the costume assemble but everything else screamed Harrington. He cropped the stripped knitted jumper to better suit his athletic frame and his hair was still very much classic Steve.
Robin had taken a whole new approach, dressing up as the colourful Rubik’s Cube puzzle toy. Deriving inspiration from the colourful squares she wore a long black jumpsuit covered in humongous reflective and vibrant square sequins. She more resembled a neon glitter ball, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt.
Nancy’s body was hugged by a khaki green boiler suit that had the long legs cut off and on her back she wore a black backpack with some DIY altercations made to it. She has begged Mike to help her create her costume, and that’s how she ended up dressed as a Ghostbuster, putting a strong feminine spin on the male dominated film. You hadn’t expected anything less from Nance, she was always looking for ways to empower women and her costume made you smile. Proud.
Jonathan had chosen a much whackier costume to better fit with his personality. The pungent smell of weed radiating from his body only complimented the fluorescent green costume he was wearing and the radioactive orange bandana blindfolded over his eyes. He had opted for the beloved character from the children’s series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’, Michelangelo. Which shouldn’t have surprised you— but it did.
And finally, you had chosen something distinctively different from your friends. You had made the bold choice to go as a flapper girl from the 1920’s, inspired by Fitzgeralds novel The Great Gatsby. It was a bold move because you paired the costume with kitten heels and although they were small you knew by the end of the night your feet would be crying out for rest. It is a Scare Walk after all. Your body was adorned by glitter and lace and the fringe of your dress tickled at the exposed skin of your legs.
It was a bit chilly tonight, but you were having too much of a ball to really hone in and pay attention to the sharp gusts of wind. Steve and Robin were arguing over whose costume was more original and whilst Robin’s was, Steve always somehow managed to argue himself into being ‘right’.
“Talk to me when you have hand sewn a bazillion sequins onto something and not just took a pair of shears to a ratty old sweater.” Robin remarks with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest and marching ahead of Steve.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was surprisingly difficult to cut this thing into a straight line— and it isn’t ratty or old, I literally bought it like two days ago.” Steve fires back with a squinted gaze as he follows closely behind Robin’s reflective beacon of light that seems to lead us through the dimness. Nancy grumbles inwardly to herself.
“Can you two stop bickering like babies? We’re here to have fun! So let’s go and do that!” She hooks her arm with yours, charging forward, “I heard that some people from campus are working here this year. I don’t know what they’re doing but isn’t that exciting? We might bump into them!” You admired how Nancy could make a good situation out of everything, however you didn’t quite share her enthusiasm for meeting people you already knew. Nancy was all about making and strengthening connections whereas you wanted to just have fun— judgement free.
And now that you knew that your peers were watching your every move you couldn’t help but feel your confidence shrink slightly and your words clam up. Dying in your throat before they could ever be heard aloud.
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The walk started off relatively slow and rather boring. You kept mistaking your dress tickling your calf’s as insects running up the skin of your legs and Robin would giggle at the way your head was constantly shooting downward.
“You seem awfully jittery— is someone scared already?” She taunts, wiggling her eyebrows at you and grinning widely as she did.
You scoff in response, “Please. I’m nearly dozing off back here.”
An eerie dark silence falls over the group and the golden haze from the spooky funfair starts to fade into the background behind you as you venture further and deeper into the doom and gloom of night fall.
The smell of sweet popcorn no longer lingers in the hairs of your nostrils and a sinister chill runs down the back of your spine; like fingers tickling your bare skin.
“Are we sure we are sticking to the trail? It’s getting pretty dark out here— OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” Two little girls dressed in bloody dresses and horrifying makeup charge toward you from a nearby hidden brush. Their eyes glow a disturbing shade of white and they hold faux knives that still look devilishly real. You stumble backwards, nearly collapsing from shock however before you could fall to the ground you feel a hard body hit your back which makes you scream out in terror.
The figure laughs at you, jeering and sharp as you whip around to meet him and your hand is quick to find your chest. Your fingers claw at the fabric of your dress and you fist the fabric with a shaky grip. You’re panting, struggling for breath and the skull painted face looms over you for a moment too long; cocking his head to the side as he examines your costume.
That’s when you realise something. Something that you immediately recognised as a dark secret. A dark desire that should be kept hidden.
As his onyx orbs gleam and glare down at you, you feel a wave of heat feather your cold skin. Your core pulses between your thighs and your mouth hangs open in dreadful clarity; you were fucking turned on by this.
His chiselled face is painted to resemble a bare skull. White with inky dark circles that deepen his eye sockets and his cheekbones are defined with thick blended shadowy lines. His lips are painted black to match his contours and he has hand drawn on a stretched toothy smile and an empty nose cavity.
He doesn’t speak a single word.
He just stares at you. Almost as if he is furious with you.
And before long he drags himself away from you, like the simple task is deemed painful and impossible for him.
His torso is dressed in a fitted white button down shirt which is rolled up to his elbows and it exposes his tattooed forearms. On his legs he wears a simple but professional pair of black trousers paired with black suspenders that sling over his shoulders. On his feet he has combat boots supporting his ankles and some sort of padded device strapped around the joint of his knees.
You gawk at him as he skates across the concrete on his knees at an alarmingly fast rate toward another group of poor people; leaving sparks of light in his dust as they squirm and scream. Some of them even go as far to sprint off into the darkness away from him; which leaves the masked man cackling darkly and running after them.
“Holy shit! I had no idea he would be working here this year!” Steve slaps the palm of his hand onto your shoulder as he chuckles heavily and you pull away from him confused and slightly annoyed.
“Who is ‘he’ and how do you know him?” Steve’s laughter dies out slowly and his hands come to rest on his hips. A stance that he did often. The rest of the gang come to join you with curious expressions on their faces.
“Seriously? You don’t recognise him?” There’s a pause as you shake your head ‘no’ and Steve rolls his amber eyes dramatically, “That’s Eddie Munson, dipshit. He’s always smoking weed out in the courtyard on campus? Playing with the fire from the benson burner during chemistry— is this ringing any bells?” You shrug, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.
Is Eddie Munson someone you should know about?
“He has long, curly hair— not better than mine but hey, it’s definitely up there.” Steve’s hand smooths over his slicked back hair that is thick with gel and you laugh, now being able to form an image of Eddie in your mind.
“Ohh, the metal head? He sometimes walks around with his guitar slung over his back?” You reply as you begin to walk off after realising that you have all come to a stand still— and partially because you want to see Eddie again.
“Yeah! He is wicked with a guitar! I’ve seen him play.” Robin chirps from your left and Nancy hums on your right.
“He is pretty good.” Jonathan speaks through a mouthful of candy and you try to disguise your disgust as you unfortunately get a glimpse of the food on his tongue.
“Right…” is all you quietly reply as your eyes scan the bluish darkness. You can hear an owl hooting off in the distance and if it weren’t for the jump scares waiting for you, you would find this promenade quite peaceful.
Crickets whisper conversations from the tall blades of grass and you can see lanterns dotted up ahead of you. They cast ghoulish shadows all around the dirt path and your head twitches from side to side— trying to catch any of the silhouettes moving.
But they don’t.
You have strayed further ahead of the group, their voices hitting your ears in the form of muffled sounds but you don’t bother to wait on them. They are too busy laughing and booing at some of the scare actors whereas your heart is still palpitating at a ridiculous rate from the last scare.
Some of the actors were so gruesomely scary that you felt transported into your favourite slasher films whereas the others were just looming and ominous— more human. Humans are the scariest creatures after all. You fear your own kind in opposition to the unknown.
That’s why when the familiar skull skates over to you on his knees, you freeze this time. No fight or flight; just freeze. Your mouth gaping wide as his nose nearly brushes yours.
“Eddie.” His name is a breathless squeeze from your lungs as it leaves your mouth. You have to say his name aloud in order to ground your thundering heart. Were you excited or frightened? Maybe it was a mixture of both.
Whatever it was, the man stood in front of you wasn’t best pleased. His eyes narrow into irritated slits and his fingers toy with a piece of your hair— twirling it before yanking on it playfully.
Steve, Nancy, Robin and Jonathan all sprint past you in urgency. They screaming until their throats run raw as a deranged man with a faux chainsaw chases after them. Hot on their heels.
You and Eddie go unnoticed by them… and now…
Now you feel afraid.
“Y’know you aren’t supposed to address the actors personally, right?” He sneers through a tight jaw.
“He speaks.” You quip back sassily and Eddie huffs a distorted laugh.
“I’ve seen you around campus— even prettier up close. It’s a shame your attitude ruins that.” He circles you like a shark in water and you follow him. Twirling around makes you dizzy but Eddie’s chuckle makes your dizzier.
“Like a little lost lamb.” He coos, “Where are your cronies? Seems they’ve ditched.” His glove clad knuckle grazes your cheek and you flinch away from his soft touch. Taking a few steps back you widen the close distance between the two of you.
This causes Eddie to grin hugely; showing all of his teeth as he did.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now?” He prowls toward you however you are quick to match every one of his steps. He takes a stride forward? You take a step back.
“You could run away if you wanted… but that’ll only entice me more. Didn’t they tell you? I love the chase.” His voice is a low animalistic growl and you couldn’t understand if this was Eddie or his character talking to you. Was this all an act or was he genuinely this menacing?
“I thought you actors weren’t supposed to get this close to the public…” You hunch your shoulders upward toward your ears as you cower away from his stalky frame and he stares through you; the gears in his head turning.
You shift on the balls of your feet uncomfortably and your skin blazes beneath his intense gaze.
“You’re blushing.” He says matter of factly and suddenly you feel the need to straighten your posture and try to get as far from him as possible.
“I am not.” The lie is pathetic as it meets the frosted air and Eddie smiles eerily.
“It’s the makeup, isn’t it? You like the makeup.” His head strains back on his neck as he lets out a loud laugh, “Fuck— that’s pathetic. You must be into some really weird shit.”
“I- that’s absurd!! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You squeal and slink your arms around your torso. Partially because you were cold but also to be protective and assertive of yourself, “You don’t even know me—“ Eddie interjects, his finger tapping impatiently against his painted lips.
“Shhhh.” You feel the soft grain of his leather gloves as they tickle your skin and Eddie’s hands fully embrace your bare shoulders, “It’s okay— I like your costume too, I suppose.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I mean, it’s a bit outdated and boring but hey, you look good.” He flashes you a teasing wink that is nearly enough to make your lungs implode with lack of oxygen.
“Goodbye, Munson.” You swivel on your kitten heels and briskly find the frozen dirt path again. Your head involuntarily looks over your shoulder, trying to catch sight of Eddie one last time as you leave him behind but to your total disadvantage the metal head was no longer standing where you had left him.
He too, had taken off.
And unbeknownst to you, you had just pressed play on one of Eddie Munson’s all time favourite games; Cat and mouse.
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It was getting later and later with every passing second and you couldn’t find your friends anywhere. You had last seen them run off whilst laughing and screaming in total horror but you hadn’t seen them since.
Had they actually ditched you and went home?
Once the thought infiltrated your psyche you contemplated on cutting the scare walk short and heading back to the funfair to search for them. However, going back meant that you had to go alone and there was something devilish about that.
To your left, through a thick canvas of sweetgum trees you can hear the owl again. Hooting softly— a sound that should calm your nerves but instead it tugs on them viciously. It’s more like an emergency siren warning you. A sign for you to run and to never look back.
A man made whistle slices through the chirping of the birds and it cuts at your skin like the edge of a blade. You look left and right, frantically dancing in circles as you try to determine where it’s coming from; but you are met with nothingness.
“Eddie, if that’s you then cut it out! This isn’t funny!” Your fingernails pinch at your skin as you begin to walk panicked in the opposite direction. Never paying attention to what’s in front of you, your gaze always trailing off to the side and behind you.
That’s when you see him— the skull peering at you from a dark line of trees in the distance. Your feet come to a staggering stop as you eye him. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was Eddie really staring back at you or were you deluding yourself?
You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you watch him emerge from the greenery. Before your brain can compute what your body is doing you are running; charging into the fullness of the forest.
Tree branches whip and rip at your skin, causing it to redden and sting. You wince but you continue soldiering on, your shoulders barge through sticks and nettles and thorns.
Your mind had convinced you that this was real. That you were being chased by a psycho.
“Hey— hey, stop!! It’s okay! Wait—“ Eddie is close behind you, crunching twigs beneath his boots but you are quicker than he is; more frightened and resilient to get as far from him as possible. For your own safety.
“Sweetheart! Stop!” You can hear him getting frustrated as he trudges through the cluttered landscape but you can see lights shining in front of you, just up ahead, and it causes you to force your legs to quicken. Desperate to reach there.
But just before you explode onto the funfair grounds your legs give way beneath you and you crash to the ground. The palms of your hands scrape against the jagged forest floor and your dress rips against a spiked log. You thought this shit only happened in the movies— but tonight you were proven wrong.
You look behind you and your eyes well up with tears of both pure adrenaline and fear at Eddie propelling himself toward you.
You bring up your hands around your head to protect yourself as you shrink back onto the floor, over the fact that your hair is full of pine needles and your knees are scraped and bleeding.
Eddie crouches by your side, a deep frown on his face and worry in his eyes.
“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay…” Eddie bites off his leather gloves and throws them to the soft earth. He is gentle to pry your cold hands away from your muddied face and he hisses quietly at the temperature of your skin compared to his. He examines the palms of your hands tenderly, “Ouch… this must hurt. What were you thinking?”
Your foolishness almost causes Eddie to laugh, but after witnessing the genuine anxiety plaguing your features he decides not to.
“It was too real.” You blubber, letting out a dampened sob and Eddie’s heart pangs with guilt and sorrow, “I couldn’t find anyone and… and I saw you and I just couldn’t think of anything else…”
“I’m sorry, love. C’mere, let me help you up.” Eddie is crouched down, his knees bent as he braces himself in front of your shaking frame. He outstretches his hands toward you and you take them hesitantly.
Thanks to Eddie’s strength he pulls your weak body up to meet his with ease and he hold you against his chest. Breathing softly as he tries to calm your laboured and nervous breaths.
“I really am sorry… it’s just me, ‘Kay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He peppers comforting pecks into your hair and your nails claw at the back of his shirt, “It must’ve been pretty scary; being out there all alone with me.”
You nod, your mind finally calming at the sound of his lulling and gentle voice.
“I do like the makeup.” Your confession is meek and muffled against his chest, “I think there must be something wrong with me.” You laugh, managing to pull away his chest and look at him much more confidently now.
“Not at all,” Eddie grins, “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. Very normal— it might even be considered vanilla to some people out there.” Although you have removed yourself from the skull painted man’s chest, the closeness between the both of you remains the same.
The truth was; Eddie had always admired you. Your intelligence and your cunning. You were beautiful, which was the cherry on top of your infectiously bright personality. He had noticed you at the beginning of the academic year and he was too chicken to talk to you. You both were connected through Steve but Steve never really paid attention to Eddie’s longing and begging looks toward you.
But Steve didn’t have to say anything. Not anymore. Because you could see it for yourself. You could see beneath the intricate paint on his face that Eddie felt something for you. You weren’t sure what it was; lust, a crush or plain friendship but you could see it. Feel it.
“You must think I’m a total freak.”
“You have no idea who you’re talking to, sweetheart. I am the biggest freak to have ever lived.” Eddie lets out a giddy chuckle and his hands continue to rest lightly around your body. You welcome his lingering touch and his nearness. It felt familiar. Nice.
“We both look like weirdos standing out here in the dark.” Your eyes scan around the auburn horizon of tall trees and a soft smile rests on your smudged lipstick covered lips, “People are going to think we’ve been up to no good.”
Eddie smiles, his hand coming to stroke your cheek gently and tuck some of your rouge hair behind your ear, “With how windswept your hair is, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
You both stand there, the air is clouded with electrifying tension and you can’t think of anything else other than how badly you want him to kiss you.
“I wanna take you out… on a date.” His hands cup your face, “When I’m not this caricature. I’ll just be me and you will be you. You won’t have to run from me…” His cold nose brushes the tip of yours, “I won’t have to chase you.” You can smell mint and nicotine on his breath and you have never been more intoxicated by anything in your entire life.
“What’d ya say, sweet girl? Let me take you somewhere nice so I can kiss you properly at the end of the night?” There is a slight desperation to his voice and you bite your lip to suppress a wide smile.
“I’d like you to chase me, Eddie. Chase me with daisies and a boombox and your guitar. You won’t have to run after me for long…” You are dangerously close to him now, your breath quickening as you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. It takes every ounce of self control not to eat his entire mouth with yours, “Take me anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”
“I will.” He promises.
“And kiss me at the end of the night?” You are desperate yourself now, your eyes sparkling with moonlight as you look up into his shadowy hues.
“I will.” He strokes your hair so delicately; like you are the most precious thing he has ever handled, “I promise.”
-
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We Fell in Love in October | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello everyone, and…
🦇🧟♀️👻🎃Happy October!🎃👻🧟♀️🦇
It is truly the most wonderful time of the year! Halloween is my favorite favorite holiday, so of course I had to write a little something. I borrowed the title from a girl in red song that I enjoy. Also, if you're a New Girl fan, parts of this plot line might be familiar to you :)
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings: minor reader injury
Shrieks and laughter echoed from every direction. The smell of fresh kettle corn wafted through the crisp autumn air. And two separate groups of children in Halloween costumes almost knocked Bucky to the ground. They blew past him in a blur of candy and chaos, shouting as they ran. He was certain that a rogue kiddo had somehow smeared the sleeve of his jacket with the sticky, sugary coating of their caramel apple, but he didn’t mind.
He simply took in the sights and sounds of the Halloween carnival, smiling to himself as went out of his way to step on crunchy leaves.
Autumn was his favorite time of year- October, specifically. It was October when he first bumped into you at his favorite coffee spot, spilling your pumpkin cold brew all over your shoes. His insistent apologies and dedicated clean-up efforts endeared him to you instantly, as did his shy smile. He graciously replaced your drink and bought you a slice of spiced pumpkin bread for good measure, which you happily shared with him.
After that, Bucky knew he was done for.
He found himself spending as much time with you as possible. The two of you frequented bookstores and museums. You introduced him to a swath of movies and tv shows that he’d missed out on over the years. And he brought you back in time with each 40’s crooner he showed you on his record player. He’d never felt so comfortable, so at ease. And you returned the feeling ten-fold.
It was October of the following year when he showed up at your apartment with a massive bag of candy and a bottle of your favorite wine. He knew how much you loved Halloween and all it entailed: the movies, the décor, the spirit of the season. And he was determined to make it extra special. The two of you watched scary movies and laughed uproariously each time the other jumped. And both of you consumed so much candy, you feared you might be sick.
But that fear subsided when Bucky finally pressed his lips against yours for the first time. It took him all night to work up the courage. He found his focus drifting from Nightmare on Elm Street and settling on you. Your jack-o-lantern sweatshirt. Your slightly messy hair. Your bright smile. But he didn’t make his move- he couldn’t. He was far, far too nervous.
It wasn’t until the night came to a close that he finally found his nerve. You walked him to the door and thanked him for the candy. The wine. The company. And for making the first day of October one for the books. The goodnight hug you shared lasted longer than it ever had, and you swore he held you tighter than before.
The two of you lingered by the front door, chatting about nothing of consequence. Bucky needed to buy himself some time, and you wanted to keep him in your apartment as long as possible. You figured that if he hung around long enough, maybe he’d finally make his move.
But he left. After another long hug and some more nonsensical chatting, he bid you goodnight. He intertwined his fingers with yours for a moment, sweeping his thumb across the back of your hand. He gave your hand a squeeze and swept a kiss across your knuckles, and then he slipped out the door.
But before the disappointment had a chance to settle into your chest, a metallic knocking vibrated through your front door. You opened it instantly, figuring that Bucky had forgotten his phone or his keys on your coffee table.
But he wasn’t after any forgotten personal effects.
Breathlessly, he asked, “Can I?”
“Please.”
And that was it.
His mouth met yours in long, deep kiss full of want and adoration and Halloween candy. His hands cradled your face, yours twisted into the front of his t-shirt. And neither of you took a breath for a very, very long time. Only when your chest burned from lack of oxygen did you finally pull away- but it was only for a second. He greedily recaptured your lips before you even knew what happened, not that you’d ever complain about it.
And when Bucky eventually broke the kiss, you knew you this was it for you- he was it for you. He brushed his lips against your cheek, your forehead, the tip of your nose. And he asked you if you’d like to join him for an official date. You, of course, said yes.
Said date came only a few days later, when Bucky took you to a pumpkin patch and the two of you carved jack-o-lanterns together. You carved a rather accurate depiction of Ghost Face. And Bucky, of course, decorated his with a stick figure representation of the two of you at the coffee shop where you first met.
The night ended with a Halloween Hayride followed by a corn maze- and you swore Bucky got the two of you lost on purpose. He kept pulling you down errant pathways, insisting that they’d lead to the exit. No exit ever materialized at the end of his rogue, twisting trails. But they did provide the perfect venue for him to steal a kiss or three. And you didn’t complain once.
On October thirtieth, he asked you to be his. And you told him that you already were- you’d been his for a long time. He just didn’t know it.
It was hard for Bucky to believe that only two Octobers ago, you were a stranger. And now, you were his girl. He’d given all of himself over to you, and you accepted him with nothing but warmth and kindness and love. He couldn’t believe he’d been lucky enough to meet you, to win your affections, to call you his.
He was never a huge fan of dark, dreary, autumn, as he always preferred the warmth of summer. But meeting you was enough to turn him into fall's biggest fan. The two of you were inextricably linked to the season, turning it instantly into his number one favorite. And as he strolled through the Halloween carnival and allowed autumn to wrap around him like a blanket, he couldn’t help but feel at home.
At the sight of the Haunted House, Bucky hung a right and curved around the back of the structure. He listened to the screams and subsequent laughter of the patrons inside as he waited for you. He didn’t particularly love haunted houses, and probably never would’ve considered partaking in one if it hadn’t been for you.
“Buck!” your voice broke through the noise of the festival and pulled Bucky’s attention.
But as his head perked up, he didn’t find his best girl. No, he found only a bloody, decaying zombie sprinting in his direction. He’d never been so happy to see a monster.
“Woah! You look amazing, baby!” Bucky motioned for you to do a spin for him and admired your elaborate, almost-too-realistic make up and costume. “You’re gonna scare the hell outta these people, doll.”
A wide, satisfied smile stretched across your zombified face, “That’s the idea.”
As carefully as you could you leaned in and brushed a kiss to Bucky’s lips. Of course, you didn’t want to dirty his face with your gory make up, but you simply couldn’t resist kissing him. And you’d never want to.
“Wait, I thought Sam was coming with you,” you scanned the area, looking for Bucky’s partner in crime. “Did he change his mind?”
Bucky let out a breathy laugh, “No, he’s here. But he saw a caramel apple stand near the front of the carnival and I lost him immediately.”
Your laughed matched Bucky’s, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
Bucky eyed the haunted house, with its flashing lights and eerie exterior. It loomed over the entirety of the carnival, promising heart-stopping terror and endless fright for anyone who dared to enter. A cold sweat dampened the palm of his right hand; he swiped it on his pantleg without a word.
“So, how’s it been going, doll? Are you having a good time?”
At first, you thought it might be strange to volunteer as a scare actor. You didn’t have any experience, and didn’t think of yourself as much of a performer. But the second you saw the listing for volunteers online, the idea wormed its way into your brain and refused to leave. You always loved Halloween, always loved all things creepy. And working as a scarer for a few nights a week sounded like fun.
But it was Bucky who gave you the final push you needed. He knew you were second-guessing yourself, knew you’d talk yourself out of it if he didn’t step in. And you were grateful he’d been there to encourage you.
“I’m having the best time! It’s been a blast so far,” the excitement radiating off of you was almost palpable. “Everyone’s so nice and we’re having so much fun. I’m really glad I decided to go through with it.”
“See? I told you,” Bucky shot you a wink. “I only wish I could’ve been here on opening night of the festival-”
“Buck, you were literally saving the world. I understand,” you told him. “There’s no hard feelings.”
“Well, I’m really happy for you sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re having a good time.” He gently placed his metallic hand on the least bloody part of your face, “And I’m so excited to see you in action.”
You gave him a strange look, “What do you mean?”
“I just mean that I can’t wait to see you doing your thing in there!” He gestured toward the haunt, “Can’t wait for you to scare me to death, baby.”
“Oh, Buck- no. I don’t-” you cut a glance toward the haunted house, knowing full well what lurked inside the walls. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What? But I want to support you, doll-”
“You’re supporting me just by being here,” you leaned into his touch. “But I don’t think you should go in there, babe.”
Admittedly, he wasn’t looking forward to his trip through the haunt. Of course, he was excited to see you in your element- he just wished your element wasn't a terrifying, immersive experience.
“It’s a dark, enclosed space with blood and gore and people screaming,” you cautioned him. “And there’s actors who jump out at you from the dark. I swear, there’s one of us popping out around like, every corner.”
Bucky’s lips twisted into an uncomfortable, tense expression. He thought about what that experience might be like for him. How it might affect him. Once again, he found himself wiping his palm against his thigh.
“I just don’t want it to trigger anything for you, you know?” And you meant it. A trip through your stupid haunted house wasn’t worth his mental health.
He forced the tension out of his face and blanketed his features with a manufactured calm. You were always so supportive of him, always did your best to be there for him. And it was his turn to be there for you. What kind of boyfriend was he if he couldn’t even see you perform? Sure, going inside the haunt wasn’t his idea of a perfect evening, but he owed it to you.
“Yeah, but I’ve been through way worse, sweetheart. I can- I can handle a haunted house.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince- you or himself. “As long as there isn’t a Hydra torture chamber scene, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Well, I assure you there is not a Hydra torture chamber in there, but I still think you should think it over before you go inside. Okay?” You knew Bucky too well. Knew he’d do anything to make you happy- even if it meant sacrificing his peace. But he’d worked so hard to find that peace, and you couldn’t let him shatter it just for you. “I won’t be disappointed or get my feelings hurt if you decide not to go inside, I promise. I just want you to have a fun night without any pain or flashbacks or panic attacks.”
Bucky found nothing but authenticity in your voice. You weren’t just saying these things, or secretly hoping that he’d still venture into the haunt. No, you meant everything you said; you just wanted what was best for him. Wanted him to enjoy himself. And he was endlessly grateful for your understanding. For your kindness.
“Shit. Alright, I-” you looked down at your phone and sighed at the new text illuminating your screen, “I have to get back inside, my break’s over. Sorry, baby.”
“No, doll, don’t worry about it. Sorry I monopolized your entire break.”
“Are you kidding me?” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, “this was exactly how I wanted to spend it.”
He pulled you in for deep- yet careful- kiss. He didn’t want to mess up the makeup you’d worked so hard on but couldn’t let you go back inside without a kiss.
“Just promise me you’ll think it over before you actually go inside the haunt, okay?” You eyed him with a serious, almost grave expression. “There won’t be any hard feelings if you sit this one out.”
“I promise,” he said. “And to tell you the truth, I’m- I’m thinking I might just stick to carnival games and funnel cake.”
A massive sigh of relief left your chest. The worry you’d been holding onto dissipated into the chilly autumnal air. And suddenly, nothing sounded better than cheap, rigged carnival games.
“See, now that sounds like fun.” You left one more kiss to Bucky’s lips before heading toward your next shift. “Have a good time tonight, Buck.”
Bucky watched your bloody form receded toward the haunt. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about your warnings, your cautionary words. You really did care about him. You loved him more than anyone ever had. And you always, always put him first. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to express how grateful he was to have you. And as he observed the way you went out of your path just to step on the crunchiest leaves you could find, he knew the two of you were perfectly suited.
“Baby!” Bucky called after you as you reached the back door of the haunt.
You turned.
“Do you still wanna come over later?” he shouted over the noise of the festival.
Your “DUH!” echoed across the distance. And then you disappeared inside.
“Aw, man. Did I miss her?” Sam appeared just behind Bucky, two caramel apples in hand.
“Yeah, she had to get back to work. Oh-” Bucky reached for the apple in Sam’s right hand, the one that hadn’t yet been marred by Sam’s teeth. “Is this for me? Thanks, I-”
“Um, no,” Sam yanked the treat out of Bucky’s reach. “These are both mine.”
Bucky scoffed, “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, “You’re actually double-fisting caramel apples right now?”
Sam gave a confident nod and took a bite out of one of the treats. “Leave me alone, man. I’m just participating in the spirit of Halloween.”
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s antics. “Okay, well then, I’m gonna go get one of my own. Are you coming?”
Sam tilted his head to the side and gestured toward the haunt with one of his apples. “Aren’t we going inside now that she’s back on shift?”
Bucky gave the unsettling building a long look. He really did want to support you- but he just couldn’t bring himself to willingly venture into that environment. He thought back on what you said: Dark. Enclosed space. Blood. Gore. People jumping out of the darkness. It was the perfect recipe for a flashback. He could practically feel his PTSD crawling out of the darkest corners of his mind, waiting to pounce.
“Um, no, actually. I’m not- I’m not gonna go in,” Bucky said. “I was cautioned against it by a very sweet, very beautiful zombie.”
It didn’t quite make sense to Sam. “She doesn’t want you to go inside?”
“She said it’s just not the best idea. The way she described it, I know it’s not gonna be a good experience for me,” a sad smile pulled at Bucky’s features. “Plus, I don’t know how I’m gonna react to bloody people popping out of the shadows and screaming at me. I feel like my training- or my PTSD- is gonna kick in and I might hit first and ask questions later,” he shrugged. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”
Sam didn’t suspect that Bucky would actually harm any of the actors; he trusted Bucky more than Bucky trusted himself. But he wasn’t going to push. If there was any possibility that the things inside the haunt might send Bucky into a spiral, he was happy to steer clear.
“Alright, yeah, we can- we can go play some games instead,” Sam suggested. “And you can win your girl a prize. Come on.”
Sam pointed Bucky in the direction of the carnival games- but not before he granted Bucky his second apple.
“Wilson… I’m touched,” Bucky took a huge bite of the tart, sticky treat. “This is real friendship.”
“Yeah, yeah. But you’re getting the next round.”
The two of them set off in the direction of the large array of carnival booths, both happily gnawing on a caramel apple. Bucky was grateful to have two people in his life who truly cared about his mental health. Two people who never forced him into situations that had the potential to rip open his old wounds.
And though Bucky wished he could visit you inside the haunt, he knew it was better this way. If he chose to experience the haunted house and ended up having a violent flashback or a panic attack, he knew it would ruin your night. You’d spend the entire evening taking care of him, looking after him, worrying about him- you’d completely abandon your post inside the haunted house, and he couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t take away your Halloween fun, especially not when you’d just told him what a blast it all was.
No, he’d instead spend the evening playing shitty carnival games, drinking pumpkin beer, and betting Sam that he couldn’t eat another caramel apple. And later, after you’d finished your night of scaring, he’d welcome you into his apartment and spend the rest of his evening snuggled up with you on the couch. He’d make a batch of spiced apple cider and curl up with you under a blanket. And the two of you would fall asleep while Scream played in the background.
Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.
Around ten-thirty, a quiet knock pulled Bucky from his book. He dropped it on the coffee table- taking no care to mark his page- and dashed toward the front door. He couldn’t wait to ask you a million questions. To hear your stories from the night. But when he threw open the door, he didn’t find the smiling zombie he’d seen just a few hours ago.
Something about you seemed off. Almost hollow. But Bucky couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was certain you had to be tired- exhausted, really. You’d spent hours chasing after your victims and screaming at the top of your lungs. Surely, you were just worn out.
“Hey, Buck,” you did your best to force a smile, but it wasn’t at all convincing.
“Hey, baby,” Bucky pulled you into his body without caring that you were still covered in a thick layer of fake blood and zombie make up. “You good?”
You nodded against his chest, “Yeah. Just tired.”
Bucky felt his worry recede a bit- but it didn’t vanish completely. He took you by the hand and brought you inside, but didn’t pepper you with questions like he’d planned. All of his wonderings could wait until after you got a well-deserved night of rest.
“I was thinking I could make us some spiced apple cider,” Bucky offered, “But if you’d rather just go to sleep, I can save that for tomorrow. What do you think, doll?”
“Um, whatever you wanna do, babe,” you rummaged through your overnight bag and unearthed your toiletry bag and pajamas. “I’m gonna go shower and take off my make up.”
Without another word, you retreated down the hall and disappeared into the bathroom. Something about your demeanor didn’t sit right with Bucky. This wasn’t just exhaustion; something darker lurked beneath your still waters. But he opted to give you your space. He didn’t want to delay your shower; surely, you wanted to shed your grime and get comfortable. And once you’d emerged from your clean up, he’d once again ask about your well-being. But not a moment before.
He quickly changed shirts, shedding the one that he’d willingly dirtied by hugging you, and went to work on the cider. Even if you only wanted a sip or two before bed, that was enough for him. He didn’t mind putting in the effort if there was even a chance it might make you smile- he’d do anything to see that smile. To make you happy.
“Sorry that took so long,” you said as you padded down the hall half an hour later. “Getting all of the blood and make up off is kind of a process.”
At the sound of your voice, Bucky rose from his seat in the kitchen and met you in the hall with a mug of hot cider, which you accepted.
“Don’t worry about it, doll. I was just-” a smiled flashed across his face, “Oh, sweetheart, it looks like you missed some.”
Some of the blueish purple make up still stained your cheek and tainted the skin around your eye. A bit of fake blood ran through your brow. And clearly, you’d forgotten to remove one of your bloody contacts.
“Here, let me.” He raised his hand to your cheek and tried to swipe the remaining make up from your skin with his thumb, but you yanked your head away.
Pain burned in Bucky’s chest. You’d never flinched like that around him. Never once did you dodge his touch or fear that he might hurt you. You always said you didn’t see him as a threat, didn’t think of him as a monster. What had happened in the last few hours that changed the way you saw him?
He felt himself teetering on the edge of heartbreak, but the puzzle pieces fell together before he had the chance to fall apart. He didn’t recall you wearing bloody special effects contacts earlier tonight. And your zombie make up hadn’t been that shade of indigo.
Bucky flipped on the hall light, bathing your face in a warm glow. He carefully raised his palms in a wordless promise that he wouldn’t hurt you. And once you gave him a small nod, he gently cradled your face in his hands. He carefully turned your head toward the light, allowing him a good, clear look at the marks on your face.
And what he found ripped open a pit in his stomach. You didn’t flinch because you feared him- no, you flinched because you were hurt.
A large, dark blue bruise bloomed under the skin of your cheekbone. And another bruise stained your orbital purple. The area was already swelling, and Bucky couldn’t help but think about how much pain you were in. A gash sliced through your eyebrow, just above your blackened eye. And unfortunately, the blood staining the white of your eye wasn’t part of a creepy contact lens- it was real. It was all real.
“Shit. Baby, what happened?”
“I’m fine,” you lied.
“No, you’re not,” Bucky insisted.
A few tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. You spent your entire ride to Bucky’s telling yourself that you were fine. That you were okay. That it was just some bruising. That crying wouldn’t fix anything. You told yourself that people go through way worse every day- that Bucky had been through way, way worse for almost a century. You told yourself that it wasn’t a big deal. That getting emotional over something so small was unnecessarily dramatic.
But Bucky automatically validated you- without even knowing it.
“What happened, sweetheart?”
You cut a glance to the side- which only made your eye throb. “Um, there was this guy who came through the haunt. And when I jumped out at him, he um,” you shrugged. “He hit me.”
A hurricane of emotion ripped through Bucky. He was horrified. Concerned. Wrathful. Heartbroken. All at once.
“He hit me twice, actually…” You knew it would only make Bucky more upset. But what was the point of hiding the truth? He was going to be distraught either way. “He hit me here first,” you pointed at your cheek. “And then the second time, he got me in the eye. He had one of those big, collegiate class rings on- that’s what sliced my eyebrow open.”
“Jesus. Okay, um, you hang tight right here. I’m gonna grab my keys and some shoes- I need to get you to the emergency room,” Bucky threw his attention down the hall, searching for his keys.
“I don’t need to go to the ER-”
“Then I’m at least taking you to a minor emergency clinic,” Bucky insisted. “You need to be seen by-”
“The medic at the carnival already gave me a once over,” you rested a hand against his chest, calming him. “She said I’m fine. The cut doesn’t need stitches. I just have a minor concussion.”
Bucky stared at you for a long moment while a war raged inside his head. He knew you were okay, that your life wasn’t in danger. And he could tell you were too tired for an unnecessary trip to the hospital. But he’d feel more comfortable if a doctor took a look at you. If he had a guarantee that you’d be alright.
“I promise I’m okay,” you told him. “I really just wanna rest.”
And after another long moment of internally weighing the pros and cons, Bucky conceded.
“Okay. Here, I’ll take that,” he took your mug of cider and placed it on the hall table. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Bucky took you by the hand and led you to the living room. He got you situated on the couch and draped a blanket over your lap.
“He actually tried to hit me a third time,” you said. “I was already on the ground at that point. But he still went for it.”
You didn’t mean to sound so wounded. So pathetic. But part of you was still in shock. And the other part was heartbroken that one person had ruined your entire experience.
“Thankfully, a few of the other actors got to him before he had the chance to actually make contact again.”
Bucky thought he might be sick. “What the fuck?”
You shrugged, “I’m not… I don’t know.”
“Um, do you need- I’m gonna get you some ice, okay?” He didn’t want to leave your side, but he could practically feel the throbbing, pounding pain hammering inside your head. And when he returned from the kitchen with an ice pack, some Tylenol, and a glass of water, he took a seat next to you.
“Why would he- he knew he was going into a haunted house. Why would he hit you?” Bucky couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He knew it was possible that the trauma from his Hydra days could make him lash out inside the haunt, so he chose to abstain. Why your assailant hadn’t done the same baffled him.
“And why would he hit you multiple times?”
You shook your head and instantly regretted it as pain surged through your face. “I mean, they say ‘fight or flight.’ He clearly chose fight.”
“But after the initial hit, the shock and fear would’ve worn off,” Bucky reasoned. “He would’ve been able to recognize that he wasn’t actually in danger. That you were an actor, not a threat.” He sighed, “At least, he should’ve been able to figure that out.”
With a swig of water, you downed the pain relievers and sunk back into the couch cushions. The ice stung against your tender, pulsing wounds and you hissed at the sensation. But as the cold rendered your face completely numb, you recanted your initial, ungrateful thoughts.
“Well, I’m pretty sure he’d been drinking,” you rolled your eyes. It sent pain rocketing through your skull. “One of the guys that pulled him off of me said the guy was slurring his words pretty badly and absolutely reeked of beer.”
“Oh, perfect,” Bucky clenched his hands into tight fists. “Did anything happen to him? Is he gonna face any consequences?”
You offered him a downtrodden half-shrug. “I’m not sure. There were some security guards who escorted him out, but that’s all I know.”
Bucky leaned over and brushed a light kiss to your cheek- the one that hadn’t been marred by stranger’s fist. A razor-sharp feeling of helplessness carved deep into his flesh until it struck bone. He had a duty to you, and felt as though he’d failed. He couldn’t save you. Couldn’t protect you. Couldn’t even take you to the emergency room.
All he could do at this point was try his best make you feel comfortable. Safe. And above all, he had to take care of you.
Alarm struck him in the chest as he noticed what appeared to be a fresh drop of scarlet oozing from your brow. He stood from the couch with worry pulsing through his veins. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna go get some supplies to tend to your cut. Okay? You stay here, I’ll be-”
“No, that’s okay, Buck. It’s not that bad,” you shook your head, rejecting his offer; the throbbing inside your skull multiplied.
“Baby, you’re bleeding…”
“What?” you removed the ice pack from your face and used your free hand to swipe a finger across your brow- only to find a warm, sticky sensation. “Oh, I didn’t even notice. My face is numb,” you brandished the ice pack at him.
Bucky’s soft laugh filled the room, “I guess that’s a good thing?”
You gave him a careful nod. “Definitely.”
“Sit tight, doll. It’ll only take me a second.”
And he was right. He was only gone a few moments at the most; anything more than that felt unjustifiable.
“Alright, let me see,” Bucky took a seat on the coffee table and placed his first aid supplies down next to him. As carefully as he could, he took your face in his hands and appraised your wound. He used gentle pressure to hold a piece of clean gauze against the bloody ooze. And though the cut wasn’t severe, it didn’t stop the dread from circling him like a vulture.
“I should’ve stuck around longer,” he lamented. “I should’ve stayed at the festival. Maybe I could’ve helped you somehow. Maybe I could’ve-”
Your hands found his forearms and wrapped gently around his wrists. “No, Buck. I didn’t want you going inside the haunt, regardless. Even if it was only to be my knight in shining armor.”
He stroked along your jaw with his cold, metallic thumb. “You always put me first, don’t you?”
“Of course,” you swept your thumbs over his skin, “I’d never dream of having it any other way.”
If there was one thing Bucky could count on, it was being your first priority. He’d never imagined he’d meet anyone who valued him. Who saw his worth. But you did- you always did. And you placed him proudly on a pedestal as your number one. Nothing came before him; nothing could take his place. He mattered more to you than anything or anyone ever had.
You were the kindest, most understanding person he’d ever met. You saw the good in everyone, even if they couldn’t see it themselves. And knowing that someone hurt you, that you were shown anything other than gentleness, killed him.
“Baby, I’m- I’m so sorry this happened. You didn’t deserve it.”
You poked at the ice pack resting in your lap, “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not ideal. But I’m not dying, or anything.” Your gaze dropped to the floor, “It’s really not a big deal.”
“Hey, look at me,” Bucky waited for your eyes to meet his, but had no luck. “Sweetheart, can you look at me? Please?”
After another long moment, you finally dragged your eyes upward. Bucky instantly clocked the tears gathering along your lash line.
“I know you’re not dying; I know this isn’t life threatening- but it’s still a big deal,” he said. “What happened is not okay. And you don’t have to pretend like it is.”
You rolled your eyes, sending a tear trailing down your cheek. “But you’ve been through a lot worse. I got punched- so what?” You scoffed, “You were abused for close to a hundred years. What happened to me isn’t-”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be upset,” he said. “You don’t have to compare your life to mine, sweetheart. No one should’ve laid a hand on you- tonight or ever.” He searched your face for a long moment, “Okay?”
It took a while for his words to sink in. For you to believe them. Rebuttals formed on your tongue every few seconds, but the concern in Bucky’s eyes banished them.
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief left his chest, and he delivered a long kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want you to diminish the events of the evening all because of him. Didn’t want you constantly using his suffering as a litmus test for your own. He knew you’d never consider your trauma as worthwhile if it always had to stand up to his.
With a fresh piece of gauze, he swiped the tears from your eyes. “Good. I love you.”
This wasn’t what you expected out of life. You were the last of your friends to find something real. To find someone worthwhile. And you assumed you’d missed your window. All of your exes treated you like you barely existed. Like you weren’t worth their time. None of them were ever concerned about your happiness or your well-being. And after dating more assholes than you could count, you resigned yourself to a life without romantic love.
And then Bucky spilled coffee all over your shoes, and you’d never been happier to have stained sneakers.
Bucky used a butterfly bandage to carefully close your cut and fetched you a fresh cup of cider. He took care of you in a way you’d never experienced. In a way you’d never thought possible. And after the night you had, all you wanted was to curl up on the couch with him. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms and forget all about what happened.
But just as Bucky took his rightful place next to you on the couch, he was gone.
“Buck, where are you-”
“I almost forgot!” he called from down the hall. And just as quickly as he vanished, he reappeared with his hands behind his back. “Those carnival games are really hard- I mean, really fucking hard. And it took me all night, but I won this for you.”
With a quiet “Ta-da!” he revealed his prize and held it out for you.
“I know he’s kind of ugly,” Bucky laughed, “But-”
“He’s not ugly!” You snatched the prize and held it close to your chest.
It was a little black teddy bear with orange spots- and upon further inspection, the orange spots appeared to be jack-o-lanterns. An orange and black plaid bow sat perched around the bear’s neck, and a tiny witch’s hat rested atop his head.
“Buck, he’s perfect,” you reached for him, pulling him down for a long, deep kiss before he even had the chance to sit. “I love him!”
“I’m so glad, it took me longer to win him than I’d like to admit,” Bucky laughed. “I’m sure Sam will happily tell you all about it.”
Once again, you captured Bucky’s lips with yours. Sure, you were exhausted. And hurting. And sad. But as Bucky’s hand cradled your face, and the prize he’d worked so hard to win for you rested against your chest, the pain of the evening melted away.
“Thank you, Buck.”
He shot you a wink, “Anytime, I-”
“I mean it,” you abandoned your new teddy bear for only a second and took one of Bucky’s hands in both of yours. It took most of your strength, but you finally got him to take his spot next to you on the couch, “Thank you.”
His arm snaked around you and pulled you tightly into his side. “I’ve always got your back, baby.”
With your new teddy bear resting in your lap, you snuggled as close to Bucky as you possibly could. He brought you a sense of peace, a sense of safety that you’d never experienced before. All he ever wanted to do was take care of you, and you thanked the universe every day for granting you someone so gentle and kind and sweet.
Bucky put on a classic Halloween movie from your childhood, Halloweentown, to help you feel a little more at ease. And it came as no surprise to him that you were asleep less than fifteen minutes in, but he didn’t mind. He simply pulled you into his chest and carefully carried you to bed- along with your new stuffed animal.
And as he climbed in next to you, he couldn’t have been more grateful for your cautionary words about the haunt. He thought about how different the night could’ve been, how much worse things might’ve gone had he stepped foot inside the dark, scary environment. What if he had a bad reaction and hurt one of your coworkers? What if he hurt you? If he���d been the one to strike you in the dark, you absolutely would’ve required an ambulance and a hospital stay.
Just thinking about his metal fist connecting with your face made him nauseous. With a shake of his head, he forced the thoughts away. You were okay, you were right there next to him, sleeping soundly with your teddy bear tucked safely in your arms. He eyed you in the light of the moon, and thanked any deity who would listen for keeping him out of the haunt.
Just as he considered allowing his eyes to close, you moved. You loosened your grip on your bear and let him fall to the side as your sleepy hands searched for Bucky. He moved closer to you and watched with a smile as you draped your body over his. A tired, contented sigh fell from your lips, and Bucky thought his heart might melt.
He knew he didn’t deserve you. Knew he’d done so much wrong in his life. But now that you were his, he’d spend every day trying to protect you. Trying to make you happy.
He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you. He was already planning to offer you a ring next October- doing so during any other month felt like sacrilege.
————————————-
@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @anything-more-than-human
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Scary Movie Night
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.
Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?
A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.
Word Count: 6,582
“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!”
Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.
The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters.
The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door.
“Trick or Treat!”
The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night. Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over.
Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye.
A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up.
And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.
Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…
Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer.
Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…
You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…
Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.
Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big?
Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?
Taking a deep breath you press the call button.
-Bring…-
-Brriinnngg…-
“Hello?”
“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?”
You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?”
Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”
There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-
“Okay, I will be there shortly.”
Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”
-click-
——-
Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy?
Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…
Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head?
The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…
Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel?
Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-
Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.
“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!”
Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?”
Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.
Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it.
Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’
Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..”
Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.
“Anything else?”
Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.
“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk.
Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”
Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it. Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.
After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara
Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…”
Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them”
Touché-
“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard” You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him.
“I don’t know, I was working before you called…”
“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween”
“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?”
“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…”
As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare.
“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”
“I’ll stay”
“Huh?” You look at him confused
Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again.
“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually.
-------
This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…
Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!
As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”
Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”
Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great.
But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw.
Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-
Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…”
Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.”
“You like kids?” he quickly asks.
“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak.
“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”
Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”
“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.
“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”
“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.
“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.
“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly.
Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.
Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie
Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions.
Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?
The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?”
Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features.
“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back.
Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.
Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.
Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?”
Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”
Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…
———-
Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips.
“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar”
You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-
“I just, haven’t had any that I like”
“Well, do you not like sweet things?”
Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…”
“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites”
Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth.
Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.-
Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?
Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…
While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself!
Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe.
Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting.
All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch.
Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.
“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch.
“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss
“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold.
Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”
Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!”
Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”
“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!”
Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?”
Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.”
Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?”
Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen.
Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees.
Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you.
“Danm, you're so wet…”
Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit.
Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly.
“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it.
“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!”
Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars.
Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face.
Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..”
Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear.
Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,”
Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl.
Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name.
Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours”
“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster
You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you.
The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”
“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.
Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid!
Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands.
Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening?
Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt.
Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it.
Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person.
Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him.
After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times.
Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure.
in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…”
The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,
“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes.
“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them.
“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “
The kid lets out a whine “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry
Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?”
The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house.
The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”
You shake your head “This is 925”
The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!”
A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“
Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys.
With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend.
Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero.
Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens.
“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently.
Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….”
With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body.
Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion.
Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper.
Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.
Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out.
“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him.
Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head.
“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos
Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal,
“figured we could multitask.”
With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie.
The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!”
Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”
#across the spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel spiderman#spider man 2099#spiderman#atsv fanfiction#atsv#spiderman atsv#spider man: across the spider verse#atsv smut#miguel 2099#miguel ohara#miguel o hara#miguel fanfic#halloween fic#halloween#halloween smut
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PART ONE
Summary: Anon request - "omg wait. request idea for sam and colby as ghostface smut :0 like billy loomis and stu macher OG ghostface"
Warnings: This one shot will contain smut and gore. There will be talk of death, murder, suicide, and blood, along with forceful acts such as choking, gagging, hair pulling, stabbing, and other malicious acts. The smut parts of this will contain, semi forceful actions, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, choking, knife play, oral (both), double penetration, dirty talk, and f i l t h
Disclaimer: I'm putting my own twist on this. There will be references from the original Scream, but I am going to make it a tad more modern and my own and make it so instead of SnC wanting to kill y/n, they're going after a specific group of people from one particular event that involved y/n and of course, wanting y/n all to themselves.
Side note: Italics are when Sam and/or Colby are in ghostface mode.
Word count: 25.9K but I had to break it into two parts due to tumblr's character limit. The link to part two will be at the end of this.
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"You call, Sam." Colby says pushing the phone into his chest, "I need to make this little bitch suffer for what he did to her."
"We gotta keep it clean, Colby." Sam looks up at him, "I'm just as pissed about this as you are, but more or less, we can't afford to get caught."
Colby scoffs, "You're going to sit there and tell me that you don't want to rip his guts out for forcing y/n into something she obviously didn't want to do?"
You unknowingly, and drunkenly told Sam and Colby about what happened at the party you went to without them. You told them about Levi McCallum forced himself onto you while his two other friends and Nina, his girlfriend watched, and that didn't sit right with either of them.
No one gets to hurt their girl and have zero consequence.
Over the last month, Sam and Colby have been plotting, in secret. Trying to find out just what to do exactly, which didn't take them long at all, and tonight, Nina and Levi are first to be crossed off the list.
Sam's anger boils as he thinks about what you went through, quickly turning infuriated, "Fuck them. They need to die."
"There we go." Colby grips Sam's shoulder, shaking him gently, "We're doing this for her."
"For her." Sam takes a deep breath and looks over at an older car coming up the long dirt road, "There he is. Good luck, brother."
Colby slips his gloves on, getting out as he grabs his mask from the dash, "Good luck, brother."
Colby disappears into the woods as Sam pulls out the burner, dialing the number to Nina's house. He listens to it ring before pulling the voice changer up to his lips as Nina answers with a mellow, "Hello?"
"Why don't you want to talk to me?" Sam asks in the raspy changed voice.
"Who is this?" Nina asks confused.
"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine." Sam rests his head back against the seat of the car as she declines, "um, I don't think so."
Sam hears her shaking something in the background, "What is that? That noise you're making."
"Popcorn." She says with a slight laugh and Sam rolls his eyes, "I only eat popcorn at the movies."
"I actually am going to put a movie on, my boyfriend.." she emphasizes, "Is coming over to watch it with me."
"You like scary movies? What's your favorite?" Sam asks, trying to buy Colby more time to get Levi restrained.
"Oh, um, I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it." She sighs, "Probably Halloween? Maybe. The one with the guy in the white mask that kills the babysitters on Halloween."
"Uh huh." Sam nods to himself, looking around as he quietly gathers his tools.
"What's yours?" She asks, surprising Sam by keeping the conversation going.
"Guess."
"Nightmare on Elm Street?"
"Didn't that guy have knives for fingers? Freddy Krueger?"
Sam knows all about horror movies, as does Colby, thanks to you. You're always making them watch a different movie or series, especially around Halloween time.
"Yeah, him. The first one was alright, but the rest just absolutely sucked." She clicks the lock and Sam sits up slightly.
"So you said boyfriend, is it anything serious?"
"Why?" She laughs with a flirty tone, "You want to take me out on a date?"
He rolls his eyes, "Maybe. All you gotta do is tell me your name."
"Why do you want to know my name?" She giggles and Sam's demeanor darkens, his anger taking over, "Cause I wanna know who I'm looking at."
She goes quiet, the tone in her voice drops to scared, "W-What did you just say?"
"Because I want to know who I'm talking to."
"That's not.. that's not what you said." Nina goes around looking out the windows and Sam squeezes the phone, "What did you think I said, then?"
She flicks the back light on, catching Sam's attention, "What?"
She doesn't say anything, so he asks again, "Hello?"
"I-I.. look.. I gotta go." Nina flicks the light off and Sam quietly gets ready to get out, "Wait, no. I thought you said we were going to go out."
"Nah, I don't think I want to. Creep." She hangs up as Sam tells her not to hang up. The call ends and he gets out, quickly disappearing into the woods to make his way up to the house.
He sees Colby holding onto Levi with a knife pressed against his throat. Sam slips his mask on, bringing the phone back up to his ear and slipping the voice changer into his mask, calling Nina again.
He watches her through the window, seeing her stop as she stares at the phone before answering, "What the fuck do you want?"
"I told you not to hang up on me."
"What do you want, then? Huh?" She asks slightly frantic, "Huh?"
"I told you. I just want to talk."
"About what? What could you possibly want to talk to me about?" Nina runs a hand over her face, on the verge of tears.
"About what happened at that party two months ago."
"Call someone else. I'm done." She hangs up and that's when Sam moves up to help get Levi in the pool chair, duct taping his hands behind his back.
His yelling is muffled through the several pieces of tape keeping his mouth closed.
Colby grips his throat, squeezing until his eyes roll back and he's not making any noise. Sam taps Colby, indicating to let him go, that he needs to be alive for Nina to see him die.
Sam makes his way around the house, quietly getting in through the one window she didn't have locked before calling again.
"Listen asshole." Nina screams into the phone and Sam cuts her off, anger dripping from his words, "You listen to me you little bitch, you hang up on me again and I swear to god I'll gut you like a fish."
She doesn't say anything and the feeling of power takes over Sam, chuckling slightly, "Yeah."
"Is this a joke?" She whimpers out.
"More of a lesson about karma, really." He pauses as he hears her moving slowly, "Can you handle getting your karma for what you did, blondie?"
"What did I do?" She asks, trying to sound innocent and Sam just laughs, "More or less of what you and that sleezeball boyfriend of yours did."
Nina takes off running, locking all the doors she can get to. She looks out the window of the front door and puts the phone back up to her ear.
"Can you see me, Nina?"
She's breathing heavy, crying, "I'm going to call the fucking cops. This isn't fucking funny anymore."
"They'd never make it in time, look at where we're at. We're in the middle of no where." Sam moves to another room and she pleads, "Just tell me what you want, fuck. I'll do anything, please."
"I already told you, you need your karma. But I also kinda want to see what your insides look like." A sinister smiles grows behind Sam's mask as he listens to Nina sob and hang up.
Colby quickly walks around to the front, ringing the door bell a few times before running off. Nina screams, "Who's there? Fuck, I'm calling the cops, I'm not do-"
The phone rings as she picks it up, and she screams, crying as she brings to her ear.
"Don't you know not to ask who's there, fuck. You should know all about that from the movies you watch. Asking who's there is a death wish, and I'm feeling generous enough to grant it for you."
"Look.." she gasps for air, "You've had your fun now so I think.. you better just leave me... the fuck alone or else I-"
"Or else what?" Sam taunts, "What could you possibly do to outsmart me? Hmm?"
"My boyfriend will be here any fucking minute and he'll find you, and rip you apart for messing with me." She screams into the phone and Sam laughs, "Your boyfriend is a pussy, Nina. He'd do anything to save himself before you, now why don't you just walk on over to the back, look out at the pool."
"Fuck you. Fuck you."
"His name wouldn't happen to be Levi.. would it?"
She gasps, "How do you know his name?"
"Go to the doors, like I said, and turn on the fucking lights.. again."
Sam makes his way downstairs, knowing that she is focused on a bloody and beat up Levi. Still on the phone, he hears her sob, "Oh god, no. No. No. Levi!" She scratches at the door to unlock it frantically but Sam on the phone makes her stop, "I don't recommend doing that."
"Where the fuck are you?" She pounds on the glass of the window, "Where the fuck are you?"
"Guess. I could be anywhere."
"Please don't hurt him." She pleads, "I love him."
"Really? You love someone who goes around, using girls for his own drunken pleasure at parties they should have even been at?"
"What are you ta-"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about bitch." Sam growls, "Now, if you want him to live, play a game with me."
"What game?" She whimpers and Sam chuckles, "Turn off the light." Levi screams behind the tape and Nina leans against the wall listening as she turns off the lights.
"What party were you at two months ago?"
She thinks for a moment, sniffling as she does, "I-I do-"
"Don't tell me you don't know because I know for a fact you know exactly what I'm talking about." Sam snaps, "if I have to ask again, your pussy of a boyfriend dies."
"A party. It was Xander's party." She sobs, "Please.. don't kill him."
"What happened at Xander's party, Nina?"
"I don't.. I really don't know.." she lies, pleading for Levi's life, "I don't know, asshole. Fucking kill me if you want, but leave Levi alone!"
Sam is quiet for a few seconds, "Wrong answer." Sam hangs up and Nina goes to the door, screaming as Colby plunges a knife into his abdomen, spilling his guts into his lap, leaving Levi dead where he sits right as she flicks the lights back on.
Colby vanishes, making his way back into the woods incase Sam needs backup.
"Hey." Sam says catching her attention to the phone again, "We're not done. I still have one final question."
"Go the fuck away. You already killed Levi, what more do you want from me!?"
"Which door am I at? You got a fifty fifty chance of picking the right one.." he pushes as he listens to her voice shake, "Unless I'm already in the house."
She drops the phone as Colby throws a chair through the window, making her take off into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the block. She backs up slowly, gasping as Sam crosses the hallway in a swift motion, making his way into the other room.
She slips out the patio doors, shaking as she looks back in to see Sam stalking around the house. She moves over, getting ready to take off until he busts through the door, tackling her to the ground.
She gets up fast, but so does Sam. He chases her across the yard, grabbing her to pull her back and he plunges his knife deep into her chest, twisting it before throwing her down on the grass.
She's gasping, hyperventilating as she runs her fingers over the stab wound, trying to plead for her life once more. Sam moves on top of her, pressing a hand to her throat so she doesn't make any noise.
She ends up kicking him, making him fall back as she desperately tries to crawl away. With his adrenaline pumping, he gets back up, crawling over and stopping her.
He rolls her back over. She tries to scream for help but her voice is a strangled whine, "H-he-hel- help."
Sam shakes his head, gripping her throat again as she reaches up and rips his mask off. He stares down at her, giving her a smirk before stabbing her again.
And again.
Sam smashes the phone and leaves to find Colby before a car comes in from the other direction.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
It wasn't unusual for you to share a bed with Sam or Colby, you guys have been close for many, many years which developed into this relationship that made you not want to look for anyone else. You were content with them, so you didn't need or even want a boyfriend, it was like you had two.
But it wasn't official or anything.
What was unusual, was that you woke up to it just being you, "Sam?" You call out hoping for an answer, "Colby?"
You swing your legs over, standing up as you grab one of the sweatshirts that's on the floor, checking your phone to see a message from Sam, Drug Colby with me for a run. Be back soon.
You sigh, feeling relieved as you now know they aren't in any kind of trouble like they have been in before. In the middle of responding, you hear the door open and you quickly make your way down the steps.
"Good morning, gorgeous." Sam says winking at you. You smile, "How was the run?" You look at Colby and he shrugs, "it was actually very exhilarating, I think I'm going to start running with Sam more often."
"Wow." You raise your eyebrows, taking the coffee Sam hands you, "That's not like you at all."
Colby chuckles, "Yeah, well. It is now I guess. Gotta stay in shape so I can fight those demons all night long." He motions to his Currently Fighting Demons hoodie and you roll your eyes with a laugh, "You really are a walking advertisement."
Sam smirks at you, "I'm going to go up and shower, but after that want to go out to eat?" You nod, "Mm." You swallow your coffee, "Yes please, I'm starving."
Sam jogs up the steps and Colby walks over to you, "You doing okay?" You sip your coffee and look up at him, "I was just worried that you two got arrested again."
He chuckles and shakes his head, "No, no. Just went for a run. We aren't going anywhere." He tucks hair behind your ear and quickly kisses your forehead, "I'm going to shower, too."
You smile turning as you go into the living room. Right as you sit down, your phone rings, "Hey, Soph."
"Are you home?" She asks, her voice shakey, "Y/n."
"Yes. Yes. We're all here, what's up? What's going on?" You sit up, "Sophie?" There's about knock on your door, "I'm here." She yells, still on the phone.
You get up, quickly walking over to unlock the door, "Hey, come in."
"Levi and Nina are dead."
Her words shock you, "I'm sorry." You laugh slightly, "what did you just say?"
She takes a deep breath, "Nina and Levi are dead. Y/n. Gone."
"What the hell? When? How? Why?" You run a hand over your hair, kinda acting more sad about it than you actually were because Sophie doesn't know what happened to you, "What can I do?"
You walk over and hug her as she breaks down in your arms.
Sam and Colby slowly walk down the steps, giving you a confused look they point to her. You shake your head, giving them a frown, "Levi and Nina are dead."
Your voice is quiet as you wipe the tears from her eyes, "I'm so sorry, Soph."
"Nina was like a sister to me. I mean obviously you too.." she laughs nervously, "Fuck, you know what I mean."
"It's okay. I understand." You walk her to the couch and sit down with her, her head laying in your lap as she starts sobbing again, "Who.. would do t-this?"
"I don't know, honey. But they'll find them. I'm sure.." You rub her back, unsure of what else to say.
You hated them with your full being, yes, but you never wanted them to die or anything.
"What happened?" Sam asks walking over and Sophie snaps her head up, "Two of my friends were killed, she just told you, what don't you understand?"
Sam clenches his jaw and Colby walks up, "Whoa. Hey. He just asked what happened."
Sophie rolls her eyes, "Do I need to reword it for you? Nina and Levi were killed. Gutted. I don't u-"
"Okay." You say loudly, cutting her off, "You just need to calm down, for one, and two.. They didn't do anything wrong, just asked what happened and you're snapping their heads off for no reason."
Sophie breaks down again, falling into your lap as she whimpers, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry."
Sam and Colby's eyes are on you. The way you stand up for them without any hesitation, no matter who it is, is one of the things they love about you.
They both knew that if you found out, you die for them before they got caught.
And they were right.
"Exactly." Colby motions to you and sighs as he walks back upstairs. Sam shakes his head, "I'll leave you guys to it, then." He follows Colby and Sophie sits up, "I didn't mean to yell at them."
You hug her head, "I know. It's okay. They know you're under a lot right now."
"I think.. I think I'm going to go down to the police station, to see if I can get any information," she sniffles and looks at you, "Will you come with me?"
"Why don't you come to lunch with us, then we can go? We can talk about everything." You brush her hair from her face and she shakes her head, "i have to go see Eli."
"Eli? As in-"
She cuts you off, "Levi's best friend, yeah. That's who I've been seeing."
You raise your eyebrows, trying not to let your anger answer for you, because as said, she doesn't know he was there that night too, "Is it going good?"
"It was until last night. He won't answer my calls now, so.." she sniffles and stands up, "I'll call you later." You walk after her, "I can drive you if-"
"No. I just need a minute.. to think... about all of this." She lays her head on her hands, sobbing before quickly pulling it together. She walks over, hugging you tight, "I'm so scared."
You wrap your arms around her, "I know. I know. I am too." You rub her back, "They'll figure it out. I promise." She leans back, wiping her face before turning away, "I'll call you then."
"Just come over tonight. Stay here so I know you're safe too." You walk over to the door and she spins around, nodding, "O-okay."
You nod, giving her a small smile, "Okay." You watch as she makes her way to her car and you shut the door, Sam and Colby standing quietly behind you, "Jesus Christ."
You jump and lay a hand on your chest, "I need to put a bell on both of you."
They both laugh and Colby points to the door, "is she okay?"
You nod, "Yeah, she didn't mean to snap on you. It's all still so fresh, I can't imagine what she's going through."
"Did you hate Nina?" Sam asks raising his eyebrow. You nod, "And Levi, but that didn't mean I wanted them to be murdered or anything."
"Yeah, no right. I don't think anyone wishes for just anyone to die." Colby nods, "Did she tell you what happened exactly?"
You pull your phone out, "I can find out. I'm sure the news is alre-" your mouth drops slightly and your hand goes over your mouth as you read the gruesome description of how they were found.
"What, y/n?" Sam asks as he moves over to you, looking down at your phone, "Oh shit."
"Worse than Sophie said it was?" Colby walks over, looking over your shoulder, "Oh.. fuck."
"They said Levi was found out by their pool, taped to a chair and he was.." you cringe, "Literally gutted.." you rest your phone down by your side, "Nina was found the same way just outside in the yard.."
You close your eyes, shaking your head, "I can't imagine what her mom must of felt. She's the one who found them."
"Who ever did that obviously had a resentment towards them.." Colby glances at Sam, "Apparently."
Sam fights off his smirk and wraps his arm around you, "Are you okay?" You nod, "Yeah.. I mean, they bullied the hell out of me, but at the same time.." you take a deep breath, "Karma is a bitch.. I just didn't think of it being this big of one. I'm honestly kind of scared, like there's a killer on the loose and no one knows anything about it."
"It'll be okay." Colby wraps his arm around your shoulders, gripping Sam's hoodie, "you know we won't let anything happen to you."
You didn't remember that they knew about what happened at the party, and they wanted to keep it that way.
"If you don't want to go out, we can just stay here." Sam whispers, "Whatever you want to do."
You sigh, "I really want a wrap from Bardoe's." You laugh slightly and Sam smiles, "then we'll go to Bardoe's."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Hey, y/n."
You set your food down, looking up as your friend, Noel, comes over, "How's Sophie?" She sits down across from you.
You shrug, "As bad as you'd think."
"She about bit my head off when I asked what was happening.," Sam says taking a sip of his drink. You nod, "Yeah, she stopped by before we came here, but she said she had to go see Eli."
She leans back, "Did you just say Eli?"
You nod, "I know, I had the same reaction you did." You laugh slightly, "I mean, to each their own. Her type is just assholes, apparently."
She raises her eyebrows and Henry, Noel's boyfriend comes over and sits down, "Colby. Sam." He nods to them and they nod back. He looks at you, "Y/n."
Henry stopped everything that night and you made him promise not to say a word to anyone, but Sam and Colby already know that, too.
So he's safe.
"How you doing?" He asks and you shrug, "I'm fine, worried about Soph." He nods, "Yeah, her and Eli are taking it pretty hard."
You nod, "I seen her this morning, she said she was going to the police station to ask questions, but I'm sure she'll only find out what they want them to."
You lean back, resting your head on Colby's arm that's extended over the top of the booth.
"How do you even gut someone like that?" Noel asks as she takes some of your fries, "Honestly. It's overkill if you ask me."
Colby shrugs, "The only way I can imagine, is that they took a knife or something sharp, then cut them from groin to sternum.."
Sam looks at Colby, "Hey. It's called tact, fucking idiot."
Colby holds his hand up, "I'm just saying that it would be an awful way to die." You stare at the table, nodding as you think about the pain they endured.
You hated it, but that little sick and twisted part inside of you liked it. You liked that they endured more pain than they had caused you, but you still felt bad.
"I heard they found her liver in the mailbox, how sick is that?" Henry says changing the subject, "Next to her spleen or some other organ."
"Oh that's so gross, I'm trying to eat y/n's fries, Henry. Stop it." Noel groans and pushes him. Colby smirks, "Yeah Henry, liver alone." He laughs and you look over at him, trying not to laugh.
Sam reaches behind you, smacking Colby's shoulder, "Dude."
"What? It's a joke, let her, liver? Liv-er alone?" He laughs with Henry and you just shake your head.
"Henry. Did you used to date Noel?" Colby points towards him. Noel looks at Henry and he laughs, "Yeah, until I found out just how psycho she was."
"What do you mean?" You look up at him.
He shrugs, "She was just nuts. I couldn't talk to anyone because I was-" he puts air quotes, "Cheating."
"Were you?" Noel looks at him and he looks at her, "Not at all." He looks at Sam, "Didn't you know Levi?"
Sam shakes his head, "Not like you'd think. I played basketball with him, but he was always a preppy everyone needs to love me kinda person and I couldn't be around that."
Henry raises his eyebrows and Sam tilts his head, "What? You think I did it?" He leans forward, resting his hands on the table, "I didn't kill anybody."
"No body said you did." Colby stares at Sam and he tilts his head smiling at Colby, "Aw, thanks buddy."
You rest your hand on his arms "Sam, that's not what he's saying. We all know you didn't. You have no reason to."
Noel laughs, "Yeah Sam, just because you and Colby hunt ghosts, that doesn't mean you could pull something like this off."
Henry laughs, "Right. That's how I know it wasn't you."
You can tell Colby is getting pissed because Henry just basically accused him of killing people, and honestly you were, too.
"Alright, I think it's time we leave. Yeah?" You look at Noel, "You should come over later. Soph is going to be there."
She nods, "I'll call you then." She stands up, pulling Henry up with her, quietly yelling at him about saying what he did to Sam.
You turn to Sam, "Are you okay?"
He nods and looks over at you, "Do you think I did it?" You shake your head, "As I said, you'd have no reason to." He takes a deep breath, "If he starts saying shit like that, I'll be the one they throw behind bars."
"I won't let that happen." You and Colby say in unison, causing Sam to smile. You smile and lean in, "I promise, I won't let anything happen to you." You lean over to Colby, "Or you." You sit straight, "Because I like whatever this is."
"We like it too." Sam pulls you in, kissing your head as he stares at Colby, "Let's get out of here."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Hello?" You say as you pick up your phone.
"Hello, is this y/n?" A man on the other end of the phone asks. You sit up, "May I ask who's calling?"
The man on the phone chuckles softly, "Right, yes. My name is Officer Tylers. I'm calling to see if you'd come down to the station to answer some questions for us."
"About the murders?" You pinch the bridge of your nose and he sighs, "Yes. So if you could, the sooner the better, but no rush. I know this is a-"
You cut him off, "I'll be right there,"
"Great. Thank you."
You hang up and sigh before yelling, "Colby." He jogs down the steps, "What's up, babe?" You smiles slightly and stand up, "I just got off the phone with an Officer Tylers. They want me to come down and answer some questions."
He raises his eyebrows, "Really?"
You shrug, "I don't know why.. I just.." you sit back down and Colby walks over, sitting next to you, "Hey. You'll be okay. They probably are just doing a routine questioning to everyone she went to school with. I'm sure Sam and I are next to be questioned."
You laugh slightly, "Might as well just come with me." You look around, "Where's Sam?"
"He went to meet the guy to talk about our next investigation." He tucks hair behind your ear, "You're so pretty."
You smile and tilt your head, "Why didn't you go with him?" He smiles, "I figured you didn't want to be left alone."
You nod, "Yeah, you're right. I just have to text Soph and Noel to let them know i won't be here for a little bit."
"I'll text Sam, let him know that we're going to the station." Colby takes his phone out, tapping his screen quickly. You text Sophie and Noel, letting them know exactly what's going on.
"I told them the key is under the mat if they get here before we get back." You look up at Colby, "Is that okay?"
He looks up and nods, "Yeah that's fine. Are you ready?" You nod and stand up, "What did Sam say?" Colby shakes his head as he slides his phone back into his pocket, "Just said to be careful."
"He doesn't have to worry about that." You laugh and grab Colby's keys, handing them to him, "Here ya go." He takes them from you and pulls you into him, "Everything is going to be okay."
You smile, "Thank you for being so calm through all of this, I'm actually freaking out on the inside." He chuckles, "I know. I think you're forgetting I can read you like a book, y/n."
You lick your lips, looking up at him. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours as he pulls your body closer.
The door opens and Sam walks through, stopping when he sees you and Colby, "Whoa, whoa." He laughs and walks over, wrapping his arm around your waist, "Excuse me."
You laugh slightly and look up at him, "I thought you were meeting with that guy?" He nods, "Yeah, it was an easy meet up, he wants us to investigate there, so he was excited."
"So it's set then?" Colby asks and Sam nods, "It's set."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Wish me luck." You mumble before reaching for the door handle. Sam and Colby both wish you luck and you get out, taking a deep breath before crossing the street.
"Hi, how can I help you?" The lady behind the glass asks and you rest your hands on the counter, "I got a um.. call from an Officer Richards. He told me to come down to answer some questions."
She nods, "Y/n y/l/n right?"
You nod, "Yep. That's me."
"You can have a seat right over there, I'll let him know you're here." You mumble a quiet, "thank you," before walking over to the chair and sitting down.
Not even a minute later, a tall man dressed in a police uniform walks over to you, "Y/n?"
You look up at him, immediately pissed, "Yes." You stand up and shake his hand, "Been a while.. You can come with me this way." You follow him through the barracks and into a room with only a table and four chairs.
"Have a seat. Do you need anything? Want anything? Water, coffee?"
You look up at him from the chair and shake your head, "No, thank you. I'm good."
"Alright, we'll just jump right into this then." He sits across from you after closing the door, "Did you know Nina and Levi?"
"Why are you questioning me? Isn't that conflict of interest or whatever?" You cross your arms over your chest and he shakes his head, "Not technically family, so no. Anyway, did you know Nina and Levi?"
You tilt your head, "I did, but I wasn't really liked by them."
"Can you elaborate on that for me, please? What do you mean exactly? Why didn't they like you?" He scribbles down notes on the notepad.
"I'm friends with Sophie Frank, and she's friends- or was friends.. with Nina, and Sophie and I are so different, I think she thought I ruined the popular girl image, and eventually just pushed me out." You explain, "And Levi, well he was the quarterback of the football team and got a college scholarship, so he was Mr. Popularity."
"Were you jealous of that?"
You laugh slightly, "Excuse me?"
He holds his hand up, "I know that sounds bad, but it's just routine or whatever you want to call it. Let me reword it.." he thinks for a moment and looks back up at you, "Were you jealous that Sophie was friends with her? How did her pushing you out make you feel?"
"I mean I didn't really like it, so I just stopped hanging around Sophie when I knew there was a chance Nina would be there, but I didn't want her to die if that's what you're getting at." You stare at him and he nods as he scribbles some more, "I liked Nina, we were friends before high school, but high school really changes a person I guess."
"Did it change you?" He asks right away, "I mean, you didn't go to college, correct?"
You shake your head, "No, but what-"
"You're living with two guys who do videos, both are handsome looking dudes, you didn't feel.. I don't know.. threatened by Nina in anyway?"
You scoff at his question, "No, Officer Tylers. I was not threatened by Nina."
"Where were you last night?" He leans back in his chair and you sigh, "I was home. Asleep by ten with Sam and Colby."
"They were there?" He tilts his head, "They didn't leave the house?"
You clench your jaw, sighing because you don't like to talk about your private business, especially with people like Officer Tylers, "They were in bed, with me, until about seven this morning. They went for a run."
"And that's normal? What time did they get back?"
"Yes." You sigh, "Sam is training for a marathon, and Colby likes working out." You shrug, "About eight thirty." You sigh, "Are we done? Can we be done please?"
"Almost." He holds up his finger and scribbles down more words, "Is ghost hunting all Sam and Colby do? Do you join them sometimes? I've never seen their videos beside so I don't really know."
"Besides doing photo shoots for their merch launches and making their own coffee, yeah. That's all they do."
He's quiet for a few moments before he looks up, "Don't leave town, stay in touch if you see anything, but yeah. Were done. For now." You stand up and he grabs your arm, "Just be careful, y/n. Your dad told me to look after you, and that's exactly what I'm trying to do."
You pull your arm away, "Well, you're not my dad so." You walk away and he stands up, watching as an officer leads you to the front of the building.
Officer Tylers, better known as Dave Tylers, was your dad's best friend and your dad told him, on his death bed, that he was to make sure you were okay.
You've always gotten weird vibes from him, even when you were younger, so you kept your distance.
You get into the car, plopping down with a sigh, "That was fucking pathetic."
"What happened?" Sam asks as they both turn around to face you. You shake your head, "We can talk about it at home. I need to make sure that fucker didn't bug me."
"Huh?" Sam whips back around as Colby drives off and you laugh slightly, "The officer that questioned me was.." you sigh, "He's who my dad asked to look after me. I just get a weird feeling with him, so I've kept my distance and he was like, asking me if I was at home in bed with you two last night. Like it was just weird."
Colby clenches his jaw, "You don't owe anyone an explanation about us."
"I know, Colby. I felt like I had to because of the way he was drilling me with question after question." You thud back against the seat, "I just don't understand who would want to actually go through and kill someone, let alone two people at once."
You rest your head back, thinking about the answers you gave Dave. Anxious because you lied, you guys were drinking and you got a little too wasted, passing out, so you weren't really sure if they went to bed when you did, but it doesn't matter because one, Dave didn't need to know that, and two, Sam and Colby aren't killers, they're ghost hunters.
"Did you guys go to bed with me last night?" You ask kinda quiet and Colby looks back at you in the rearview, "Of course we did. We wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I mean, I edited our latest video a little bit after you fell asleep but I was only down at the end of the bed." Sam looks back at you, "Are you doubting us, ms y/l/n?"
You laugh and shake your head, "No, no. Dave just gets under my skin and I don't know, I hate him."
Sam and Colby glance at each other, looking away before you look back up at them, "Sorry. I just-"
"You don't ever need to apologize to us, y/n." Sam smiles back at you, reaching for your hand, "I promise, everything is okay."
You take his hand and watch as he pulls you towards him, bringing your hand to his lips, "We got you."
You smile at him, jumping slightly as your phone rings. You look down, hitting the green button, "Hey Soph, I'm on my way-"
"Eli got arrested. They think he had something to do with Nina and Levi." She says frantic, "I'm not going to be able to come over tonight. I'm sorry."
"No, no hey. It's okay. Take deep breathes a- hello?" You pull your phone away seeing she ended the call, "Okay, bye to you, too."
"What's going on, babe?" Colby asks glancing over his shoulder. You sigh as you shrug, "I guess they think Eli did it. Soph didn't tell me much, all she said was Eli got arrested, she won't be able to come tonight and that she's heading to the station and hung up."
You text Noel, Eli got arrested. They think he had something to do with the murders.
"You're only trying to help her, I really don't understand why she's being this way towards you." Sam says, "She's only going to get hurt if she keeps messing around with Eli."
"You don't have to tell me." You roll your eyes, "She changed, and I'm not saying that's bad thing, but I've definitely been put on the back burner.."
"Hey." Sam lays his hand on your knee, Colby parks in the driveway and does the same. You look up at them and Sam smiles, "If they don't come tonight, screw them. If they can't see that you're only trying to help, then that's on them."
You lay your hands on theirs, "I don't know if I told you guys this lately, but I love you both so very much and I am so glad that we're whatever this is." You smirk slightly and Colby squeezes your knee, "You're our girl, what can we say?"
You smile and get out of the car, walking inside, "We should just have a movie night, chill out. Forget that we're living in fear right now." You set your bag down and turn towards them, "What do ya say?"
"I say.." Colby walks over, grabbing your hand and spinning you into him, "Let's do it."
"I second that. Or third that in this case." Sam laughs as he presses a kiss to your temple, "Now go change into something comfy then we can get this party started."
You smile all the way up to the top of the steps. You can hear Sam and Colby whispering but you think nothing of it.
You're in a mood.
A mood for them.
You throw on a bigger tee, no pants, and walk back down the steps. Their eyes immediately on you and you blush, "What?" You walk past them to the couch and they follow you like a magnet.
"Where do you think you're going?" Colby asks as he sits beside you, Sam on the other. You smirk, "You said to change into something comfy, and I'm most comfortable without pants."
"I think you got comfy confused with sexy, there babe" Sam bites his lip as he drags his hand up your back. You lean back slowly and Colby pulls you back against his chest, "Makes me want to rip you apart."
His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine, "Do it." His hands slide down, raising your shirt with his fingers, "The way Sam is looking at you right now.." Colby tilts head up to look at Sam, "I think he wants to."
Your eyes meet Sam's stare, "Please."
Colby spreads your legs, one pushed up against the back of the couch and he has his hand under the knee of your other, holding it up.
Sam moves in, kissing down your neck and under your boobs until he reaches the top of your panties. He bites them, pulling his head back and letting go so they snap against your skin.
Your breath hitches and Colby chuckles deeply in your ear, "You like that, baby girl?"
You nod, whimpering as Sam kisses up your thigh and pressing his lips to your pantie covered clit, "So much."
"Can you beg for him? Hmm.." Colby gently bites down on your earlobe, "Tell him what you want."
"I want you to eat my pussy." You moan as he presses another kiss to your clothed clit, "Please, Sam.." you whimper, "Please."
Sam looks up at you, pulling your panties to the side and runs his finger against your soaked slit, "Someone needs us."
You nod, "I do.. yes.."
"Say it again, baby." Colby whispers, eyes meeting Sam's as you moan out to the feeling of Sam's fingers dipping deep inside of you, "I need you."
Colby slides his hand down, gently massaging your clit as Sam slowly pushes and pulls his fingers in and out, "You're so fucking wet."
"No one is ever allowed to touch you again, got it?" Colby gently bites your neck and you moan out, "No one but you and Sam."
Sam reaches up, turning your head so you look at him, "Who's pussy is this?"
You furrow your brows as you feel your orgasm coming on, "Oh fuck." You whimper, "You and Colby's."
"Say my name, baby." Sam bites his lip as he works up to a faster pace, causing you to clench around his fingers, "Sam and Colby's."
Your back arches off of Colby's chest and you moan, "Fuck, fuck." Colby adds more pressure, "Cum for us, baby."
You roll your hips slowly, growing closer and closer until there's frantic knocking on your door, "Y/n!"
You don't want to stop, but you reach down to grab Sam's wrist but Colby grabs your hand, pinning it to the back of the couch, "Don't try it. You're going to cum first."
Your eyes roll back as you work back up to where you were, biting your lip to muffle your moans.
The knocking and pounding on the door continues and Sam curls his fingers just right, sending you overboard. You grind your hips against their hands, pressing the back of your head into Colby's shoulder.
"Good girl." Colby reaches up, gripping your chin so he can kiss you. Sam pulls his fingers out and brings them to his own lips, "Were not done." He says with a smirk.
You smirk and shake your head, completely forgetting about someone at the door. You jump up, fixing your panties as you walk to the door, "Who is it?"
"Fucking Sophie. Now open up."
You open the door and she barges in, "Someone fucking planted shit on Eli, I swear to god." She paces back and forth, "I don't.. oh fuck.. I don't know what to do.."
"Well, if you would have listened to me before you hung up on me, I told you to breathe so why don't you try doing just that?" You walk over to the fridge, grabbing her a water and handing it to her.
"What if this was Colby? Hmm?"
"Does no one believe that I'm capable of murder?" Sam holds his arms out and laughs, causing you to smile, "Of course we do sweetie." You look back at Sophie, "No I know. It's easier said than done. I was a mess when Colby got arrested and no one knew what was happening."
"He got arrested for trespassing and having fake id's, y/n. That nothing compared to what Eli is possibly facing." Sophie sets her water down and sits on the stool, "Eli didn't do this."
"If anyone isn't capable of murder, it's him, Soph. You don't have anything to worry about. Where was he last night?"
She shrugs, "he was home."
"And you're sure of that?" You tilt your head slightly, "Why didn't you tell the police that?" She sighs, "They said they'll talk to me once they're done questioning him. This apparently is a big fucking thing because every cop is out patrolling every area around here."
You look over at Sam and Colby who are quietly talking to each other and back to her, "Well do you to-"
"Why don't you come with me? We're going back to Nina's, well sneaking back there so we can try and figure this out ourselves? We can meet Noel at her place?"
You shake your head, "I just really wanted to stay in tonight, kinda the reason as to why I told you and Noel to come here."
"Don't you want to help find the killer? I understand you didn't like Levi and Nina, but at the same time.. don't you want to help find who did it?" She looks at you and you just stare at her.
"Fine." She throws her hands up and walks towards the door, "I'm just saying.. if you showed up missing or dead, Nina would help figure it out too, she wasn't as bad as you thought."
Yes she was. You wanted to tell her in that moment just how bad they both were, but you just watched her leave.
You look over at Sam and Colby who are staring at you, unhappy about the interaction, "You okay?" Sam asks standing up, "That was uncalled for." He motions towards the door.
You shrug, "I just don't think Levi and Nina were good enough people for me to put life at risk, you know what i mean?"
Sam walks over, pulling you in for a hug, "I know, sweetheart. It's okay. Everyone deals with these things differently and it's okay."
Colby walks up, pressing a kiss to your temple, "Fuck em."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Later that night, as you're sitting on the couch, Colby lets out a groan, "My head is killing me."
"Aw. Did you take anything?" You reach over and gently scratch the back of his neck. He shakes his head slightly, "No, but I think I'm going to and then I'm going to head up to bed." He stands up, bending down to kiss your forehead, "I love you."
You smile and lay your hand on his cheek, "I love you." You press your lips to his and lean back, "You guys ate awfully lovey dovey lately."
You look between them and they smile, "Can't help it if we're just happy when we're around you." Colby punches your chin gently, "Wake me up for your run in the morning, Sam."
Sam nods, "You got it, bro."
As of right now, it was Sam's job to distract you. Make you forget about the world for a little while.
"Why don't we..." he slides his hand up your bare thigh, "Pick up where we left off?" You bit your lip, turning towards him, "Won't Colby feel left out?"
He shakes his head, pulling you to him, "We made a deal, I get you now. He gets you tomorrow morning."
You bite your lip, leaning in. You stop just as your lips are about to touch his, "So you have a schedule?" Sam chuckles and presses his lips to yours, "Only trying to keep it fair, you know how we get."
You stand up, "Take me to bed, Mr. Golbach."
Sam stands up and takes your hand, "If I ever say no to that, make sure I'm the one who's gutted next." You perk up slightly, but not from fear.
Something about his words makes you wet, "I'll give you something to murder." You both laugh at your words, "Someone is feeling frisky."
You bite your lip, "Maybe a little." Sam slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing, "Let's go." You pull him with you up the stairs, going into his room and shutting the door.
His hands slip you out of the tee, tossing it on the ground and looking at your bare chest, "You're so fucking hot." He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he walks you over to the bed.
Colby quietly sneaks out of his room, making sure to shut the door as quietly as possibly before making his way down the steps and out the front door.
"Sam.." you whimper, "I need you."
He pulls away from kissing your neck, "I want to taste you first, babe. Can you be a good girl and let me do that?"
You smirk and nod your head, "Yes."
"That's my girl." He winks and kisses down your body, making your breath hitch as he sucks little marks into the skin under your boobs and down your stomach, "Don't tease."
"That's my favorite part, besides hearing you beg for me." His fingers brush over your clit and you gasp quietly, spreading your legs further apart, "Sam.."
Colby makes his way to where they parked their car before, slightly deep in the woods, but with an easy exit. He takes a deep breathe before getting out of the car and stalking through the woods towards the house, mask on and ready to kill.
For you.
Sam slowly pulls your panties down, too slow for your liking. You go to take your legs out and Sam crawls up, "I want to take my time with you, y/n. Been a bit since I had you to myself."
You melt into him, nodding, "Sorry."
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, "You don't ever have to be sorry. You're impatient, you need to be touched. I get that." He smiles down at you, "I'm going to do just that, okay?"
You nod and watch as he moves down your body, "I just want to take you in for a minute." He kisses down your thighs, making you wetter with each kiss.
Colby takes the burner from his pocket, dialing a number.
"Hello?" Henry picks up the phone.
"What are you doing back here?" Colby asks in the low raspy tone from the voice changer, "You guys shouldn't be back here."
Colby watches Henry spin around in circles, "Who- yo. Who the hell is this?" He stops and looks at his phone, but no luck, "What a bitch, calling me from a restricted number, you know what. If you're trying to scare me, it ain't gunna work, dude."
"What if I told you I knew who killed that bitch and her liar boyfriend, hmm?" Colby slowly makes his way around to the side of the house.
You moan, rolling your hips against Sam's face, "Fuck, fuck. Sam, I-I.." you arch your back, moaning out as you cum around his tongue, "Fuck, fuck fuck." You whimper and tangle your fingers in his hair, "Yes, yes, yes."
"How do you know that?" Henry asks and walks over to where Colby killed Levi, the dark red mark from his guts dripping still stained on the concrete, "Did you do it?"
"I did. And it felt so fucking good." Colby chuckles lowly, "He died like a bitch."
"Fuck you. I'm not do-"
"You leave that spot and your girlfriend dies next." Colby threatens, "Now, I want you to tell me something."
"What." Henry scoffs.
"What is one of your biggest secrets, Henry? I know you probably have a lot of skeletons in that dusty closet of yours." Colby moves around, still making sure to have eyes on the house with Noel and Sophie in it, and Henry.
"I don't have any." Henry laughs, "Honest."
"Fucking liar. Do you want to die just like Levi?"
"N-no. No." He keeps his voice quiet, "Fine." Henry takes a deep breath, "I cheated on Noel, okay."
That's not what Colby was expecting to hear, "You're pathetic, just like Levi."
Henry freaks out quietly, "Fuck you. I'm nothing like Levi okay."
"Oh yeah? Do tell." Colby pulls his knife out, "I'd love to know how you were better than him."
"Again, baby. I want you to cum on my face again." Sam moves up, lying down as he pulls you to sit on his face.
"I don't know what has gotten into you.." you look down at him, running your fingers through his hair, "But I like it." He smirks up at you and pulls your hips down to meet his face, his tongue lapping at your clit.
You grip the headboard, leaning forward as you're engulfed in the pleasure once again.
"I don't just go around, throwing myself onto girls who are way too drunk to say yes or no. Okay. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He spins around, looking to see if anyone else is around.
"You're still pathetic, cheating on your girlfriend.." Colby tsks a few times, "Still doesn't make you a good guy."
"Fuck. Sam.." your legs start to shake and your eyes roll back, pulling his hair as you cum again, "F-fuck." Sam eats you out through your orgasm, heightening it in a way that's never happened before, "S-shit."
You roll off of him, laying on your back as he rolls on top of you, "Such a good fucking girl." He crashes his lips on yours and you moan against his lips as your tongue swipes the taste of yourself off his lips.
Colby moves once he knows the girls in the house won't see, and quickly grabs Henry, covering his mouth with his glove covered hand and stabs him in the back a few times quickly, before spinning him around to slit his throat.
He stares at him for a few seconds as Henry gargles and chokes on his own blood before pushing him back, his body splashing into the pool, turning the clear water red.
"Fucking bitch." Colby mumbles before disappearing into the night, listening to the screams of horror, which can only mean that he has to get the hell out of dodge.
Sam gets up, stripping his clothes off before moving back to lay between your thighs. Your knees rest against his hips and you look up at him, "I love you."
"You have no idea how much I love you." Sam whispers and pushes his cock into you, groaning out as he interlocks his hand with yours and squeezes it, "You have no idea."
Colby starts driving, a smirk resting on his lips as the thought of what he did and why he did it.
Over and over again, the vision of Henry falling lifeless into the pool thrills him.
Henry disrespected Sam, so this kill wasn't just for you this time.
"I could do this all day." Sam groans lowly, "All night." He kisses down your neck as he slowly thrusts into you, trying to hold himself off for as long as he can, "You drive me fucking insane. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."
"I'd die for you." You cup his cheek with your free hand, "You and Colby, you both.." you arch your back, moaning as you approach another orgasm, "I love you both so.." you gasp, arching your back, squeezing his hand, "So fucking much."
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his cock hits that sweet little spot each time he slides in, "S-Sam."
You moan out loudly, squeezing his cock tightly with your walls, "Fu-" you basically scream for him, clawing up his back as you cum.
He groans, thrusting all the way into you, "Fuck, as much as I love when you do that, don't." He kisses your lips, "I don't want to cum yet."
Colby pulls into the driveway and makes his way back inside, closing the door quietly. It was times like this where they were very thankful that you wanted a house that was kind of secluded from everything else.
You left your phone downstairs on the coffee table, so you didn't know it was blowing up with missed calls and texts from both Noel and Sophie.
Colby walks over, picking it up to look at the notifications on the lock screen, smirking as he reads the messages,
Soph: FUCKING ANSWER ME
Soph: HENRY IS DEAD
Soph: HELLO PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE
Missed Call Soph (25)
"Fucking. Bitches." Colby mumbles and sits down on the couch, waiting until he knows you and Sam are finished.
Sam pushes his cock all the way in, pumping his cum deep into you with a moan, "Fuck." He sighs with a smile, "You, my love, are absolutely perfect."
You smile up at him, only to have the door bursted open with Colby running in, "You phone is blowing up, babe."
He hands you the phone and your heart sinks, "No. no, no. No. No." You cover your mouth, fumbling around to call Soph.
"What happened?" Sam asks looking at Colby.
"Henry is dead." Colby shakes his head with a sad look on his face.
"Now you wanna fucking call me back?" Sophie yells and you clench your jaw, "I can't really answer when I'm asleep. Now stop being a bitch and tell me what the fuck is going on."
She's taken aback but you calling her out and she sighs, "Henry was killed, y/n. While Noel and I were in the fucking house.. Henry was fucking... killed." Her voice cracks and you can't help but to feel guilty, "I should have been there."
"No, it's not your fault it my fault. We shouldn't have came here. He tried to talk us out of it, but Noel and I pushed.." her voice cracks, "Fuck. I-I don't.. Noel is a mess. I don't.. oh my god.. can you come get me?"
"Yeah, no of course I can. I'll be right there." You hang up and stand up. You grab a sweatshirt and sweatpants, throwing them on before looking around, "Henry is dead?"
"I'm sorry, babe." Colby pulls you into his chest. You wanted to cry, but you felt like you couldn't, "Why is this happening?"
"I don't know.." Colby sighs, "Starting to freak me out, too."
"Do you want me to go with you?" Sam asks standing up and you look at him, "Yeah, please." You look up at Colby, "How's your head?"
He sighs, "Still hurts, but I thought you needed to know this."
"Thank you. Now go back to bed. I'll let you know what's going on."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You held onto Sam's hand the entire way to the scene. You squeezed his hand the more the blue and red lights filled your view.
The coroner loading the zipped up body bag into the van.
The police talking to Noel and Sophie.
Your heart was racing.
"This is awful.." you mumble as tears well up in your eyes, "Fuck.." you wipe your face and take a deep breath, "I'm going to get Sophie and see where Noel is going."
Sam nods, "I'll be here."
As soon as you get out of the car, you're greeted by Officer Tylers, "Isn't it a bit late for you?"
You roll your eyes, walking past him as you make your way to the girls, "I'm so sorry." You whisper and they both fall into you, sobbing hysterically, trying to speak but it's just mumbles and gasps for air.
Tears stream down your face, "We're going to figure this out. I promise." You lay your hands on the back of their heads, "Come on." You look at the officer, "Are they.. can we go?"
The officer nods, "Yeah, they're good."
You walk them to Sam's car, and of course, Dave is still standing there, "Get home safe now." You ignore him as you help the girls get in, Sam talks to them as you turn to get up front.
"Hey, y/n. Where were you tonight?"
Without any hesitation, "I was home, getting railed by my boyfriends." You shoot him a glare, "Now leave me alone." You get back into the car and Dave walks around to Sam's window, tapping on it.
Sam sighs, rolling it down slightly, "Can I help you, Officer?"
"go easy on this one. She's been through enough already, alright?" Dave motions towards you and Sam keeps his lips together, giving him a forced smile, "No need to worry about that. She's in good hands."
You avoid looking at him the entire time Sam turns around in the driveway, "That dude is a fucking creep."
"Was that Dave?" Sophie sniffles, "I didn't know he was an officer here."
You nod, "Neither did I until he questioned me at the station yesterday."
"That dude has always been weird with you." Sophie adds, which catches Sam's attention, "How so?" You shake your head, "We don't need to talk about that right now. Please?"
Sam gives you the, we'll talk about it later, look and takes your hand into his as he focuses on driving you guys back to the house.
It was quiet, all but the sniffles and sobs from the girls in the back. The whole time, you kept thinking about why you didn't really feel remorse for Nina, Levi, and now Henry.
It surprised you. You were usually a person who cared so much, and now you're putting on an act so no one questions you.
"I'm sorry, Sam." Sophie says from the back seat. Sam looks at her in the rear view, "For snapping at you and Colby. You guys were just trying to figure out what happened and I didn't need to be a bitch."
Sam shakes his head, "no worries, Soph."
"I'm going to tell Colby, too. You guys didn't deserve that." Sophie leans back, rubbing Noel's back, "Are you okay?"
"I think I'm going to puke." Noel lays a hand over your mouth and Sam stops right as she opens the door, spitting on the ground outside.
You turn around, holding onto the seat as you reach out, holding what you can reach of her hair back, "Let it out. It's okay."
Sam admires how caring you are of your friends, the people you love. But to him, that's not an invitation for them to take advantage of that, be nasty then expect her to pick up right where they left off, forgetting it even happened.
Sam believes you're too good for everyone in this town. Hell, him and Colby sometimes tell each other that you're too good for them, but you make them realize that they need you, without even realizing it yourself.
They're obsessed with you.
Your body.
Your personality.
The way you carry yourself, even on the worst days.
You're the reason Sam and Colby get up everyday.
You're the reason as to why they started killing.
At first, they wouldn't have even thought about committing a murder, but once the words about what happened left your drunken lips, they vowed that from that day on, you weren't ever going to get hurt again, and if you did, they'll hurt who hurt you, ten times over.
Henry's death was more personal, as said. He disrespected Sam, and that's not something you do when Colby is around.
They've fantasized together about you killing with them. Thinking about seeing you pull one of their knives out, plunging it deep it into someone flesh and twisting.
I wasn't until you tapped Sam's cheek, snapping him out of his thoughts that he realized he was staring, "Hmm. Sorry." He chuckles slightly and faces forward, starting to drive once your back in your seat correctly.
His hand goes to your leg, and he squeezes. You bite your lip, laying your hand over his.
"Who would want to kill Henry?" Noel whispers as she starts to sob, "Why him? He didn't do anything wrong." Her hands fall into her lap and she leans on Sophie, "I loved him."
"I know you did." Sophie sniffles, "We all loved Henry. He was such an asshole, but he was one of the funny, good assholes."
You laugh slightly, "Yeah, that he was."
"You guys hungry or anything?" Sam asks looking back and they shake their heads. Noel laughs slightly, "I don't think I'm ever eating again, honestly."
"I've never seen a dead body, and the fact-" Sophie takes a sharp breath, trying not to cry again, "I'm so mad."
You thought it was a little strange that Sophie was so distraught, like yes. They were all friends and always hung out, but she's acting like it was her boyfriend that died.
"Any news on Eli?" You look back at Soph and she nods, "Nope. Still in holding." You frown, "Well they can't hold him. He obviously didn't do this because Henry died while he was in there."
She nods, "You're right. They can't keep him because this proves it wasn't him." She sighs, "Fuck. This whole thing is a fucking mess."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
PART TWO
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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Spooktober Vinyl Record of the day: Freddy's Greatest Hits by The Elm Street Group featuring Freddy Krueger ( Robert Barton Englund) (1988) #freddysgreatesthits #theelmstreetgroup #Freddy #freddykrueger #robertenglund #80s #records #album #lp #Vinyl ##vinylrecords #80s #spooktober #halloween #october
#freddy's greatest hits#the elm street group#freddy krueger#freddy#Robert Englund#80s#records#album#lp#vinyl records#vinyl#Spooktober#halloween#october
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Tethered Bonds
✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)
A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?
Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3
✽ Part Four - Hamster ball
See? The last update wasn't a fluke! :) Bit of a more easygoing chapter compared to the hecticness I've been subjecting our poor omega to. Bit more background on our girl. Give her a bit of breathing room before hopping back into more chaos.
Also: I've added a change to the reader's physicality. There's a reference to being underweight for medical reasons so I'm sorry if that takes any of you out of the experience. I try to not mess with that aspect, but I just felt it necessary given everything I put this girl through.
Trigger warnings: angst, depression, customer service, malnourishment
The dog survived.
Life had apparently decided against throwing you any more curveballs on your way back to the apartment – slushy roads and bad drivers notwithstanding (honestly, how could this many people forget what front wheel drive did on black ice and wet pavement?).
Densely populated areas gave way to suburban life as you drove the twenty minutes it took to escape the city center and arrive back into a world a little less crowded.
The area you resided in could generously be considered lower middle class. The crime rate was on the lower end of the spectrum though still a tinge too high for most members of polite society. Nothing too terribly outlandish; juvenile gang violence typical of a sizable city and the occasional asshat who decided the stuff in your car now belonged to him. But there was a police station a few blocks down the road from you that ran frequent patrols and the low level violence kept the rent at a decent affordability.
There were less and less brownstones the further east you traveled, row house opulence giving way to multi level apartment buildings interspersed amongst a smattering of mid century moderns. Grass became a thing again, but only in long strips running parallel with the sidewalk – unless you were fortunate enough to own a modest front lawn on a small corner lot. Not that it was visible beneath the eight inches of snow that’d accumulated since it started falling late yesterday morning.
It was only late afternoon by the time you were back in familiar territory, but this close to the impending holiday the local residents left their Christmas lights on 24/7 it seemed. Most abodes were adorned with at least humble decorations.
Community members wrapped battery powered twinkle lights around the sparse barren elms, evergreen garland candy caning down metal street lamps, interlaced tinsel glimmering from passing headlights. Cheap vinyl stickers of cartoon snowmen and Santa's little helpers splattered across glass windows and sliding balcony doors in haphazard childish fashion. Mesh reindeer lawn ornaments and creepy animatronic statues recreating Saint Nick’s undertaking in kaleidoscopic – if not positively garish – displays.
Muddied coir welcome mats proclaiming ‘Blessed Yule!’. A giant inflatable dinosaur taking up way too much space and spinning an oversized dreidel. You even gave props to the guy with a grinch head popping out the top of his chimney, smirking deviously at the passersby down below as if they were in on the secret.
All walks of life celebrating the winter season in their own special ways.
You couldn’t even remember the last time you bothered to hang a simple wreath.
You were fortunate enough to find decently close street parking as you pulled up to the curve, grateful the black Kia behind had left space enough for more than just a clown car. A group of rowdy boys bundled snug in thick mittens and hand-knit toques called for a ceasefire, taking your nearby arrival as an excuse to catch their breaths and stockpile more ammunition for the fierce battle they waged. Childish insults flew from behind snowy barricades as you stepped out of your car and onto the icy sidewalk.
It was a more than usual hassle making the trudge inside your apartment building. Normally you kept your grocery list light; manageable for the haul up three flights of stairs despite the fully functioning elevator. But with the previous week’s illness eating into more of your food supply than normal you’d been forced to compensate for the barren cupboards.
Could you make multiple trips? Sure. Did you want to be outside in the blustery cold for longer than necessary? Nope. Hence the sight of you iron-manning your way through the building’s exterior entrance, clusters of bags biting into your arms even through your heavy winter coat, overstretched plastic really field testing its weight requirements and lumbering your already lethargic pace.
You were grateful that you’d remembered to double bag some of the heftier items, having almost made that same mistake the month prior if not for the shredding sound alerting you to the seam's fatal flaw. That’s all you needed was to be spending your evening on hands and knees mopping up shattered glass and pickle juice from grime-laden steps.
There's a sense of accomplishment as you haul the purchased goods over the threshold to your apartment, carefully depositing the burdensome load on the tile in front of your refrigerator, far too many to overwhelm your bite-sized kitchen table with. Doubling back to re-check the numerous door locks and deadbolts, you finally let loose a sigh as you kick off your snow boots and shuck the weighted material from your weary shoulders, hanging the ratty scarf on the hook next to it and giving your neck a chance to breathe again.
Rubbing the irritated skin hurt more than it helped. The damn thing was sensitive to abrasive material – only concealing it when absolutely necessary. Winter was easy; warmer months made the task trickier. Thankfully most people didn’t stare much at an omega with a patch of gauze taped over her neck. Newly bonded designations wore it as a badge of honor, proudly proclaiming to the world at large that they’d finally found their place amongst the upper echelons of packdom.
You, meanwhile, would have to be more careful in the future to wear turtlenecks if bombshell interactions were to become a normal occurrence. The last thing you needed were prying questions from nosy alphas.
A half gone tube of medicated ointment called your name from the bathroom counter, but the inflamed mating mark would have to wait until after you got the bulk of groceries put away. Canned items and other non perishables could be dealt with tomorrow. There was only so much strength left in your bones after a day like today.
The knock on your front door would have startled you worse if not for the preceding text message hailing the arrival.
‘Paranoid’ would be the appropriate term. Practically overnight you found yourself turning into one of those god awful annoying conspiracy theorists that hide in the dark cobwebs of the internet, spouting schizophrenic ravings of lunacy and government surveillance, too wrapped up in their straight jackets for oxygen to reach their corrupted brains.
It was hard not to be distrustful to any and all intruders of your dwelling, knowing full well the consequences that come from letting your guard down in a stunning display of naivety. The pinched tether on your bond reassured you of his distance, but he was far from being the only ill-intentioned alpha in a thousand mile radius.
Pulse fluttering like a baby bird and fingers flexing into trembling fists, you creep up to the peephole with all the finesse of a one-legged cat – despite knowing the face that would greet you on the other end. Per usual, the kind beta didn’t take it personally when you opened the door with barely enough space to let her inside, squeezing through the gap provided and scooting out of the way while you relatched your pacifying security measures.
All she offered was her usual glowing smile and a box of double stuf oreos.
“Hard day at therapy?”
Chloe had been an unexpected addition to the chaos of your life. For lack of in-unit appliances, the apartment complex housed a small laundry facility on the ground floor – free of charge, but awfully stifling come the summer months. Enough square footage that multiple people could use it at any given time, but not enough to hold even a quarter of the residents. On the weekdays, that damn thing could be packed tighter than a dented can of sardines (and smell just as fishy). It wasn’t unusual to find your neighbors making the trek of shame back to their rooms, hefting a still-soiled bag of clothing, waiting another hour or so in hopes of trying their hand at the laundry lottery all over again.
You were embarrassed to say you avoided the place like the plague for the first month after moving in. After all, what did it really matter?
You didn’t leave your apartment at the time. There was no need for decorum – no call to impress. And as an unpacked omega with disabling agoraphobia it sounded like the worst sort of torture porn experience. It had taken running out of febreze and being on the phone with your dads to finally venture down there at three o’clock in the morning on a random Tuesday in hopes the facility would be barren enough that your musky basket could stop reeking up your closet.
The scream you screamt upon turning the corner and finding another human being skulking around in the unlit void had you so sure your father’s were a hairs breadth away from calling down the fucking feds.
Turns out Chloe was a skittish thing a few years younger than you. A recent college graduate, this was her first real apartment outside of campus dorm life. But where you were up at the ass crack of dawn due to an anxiety-inducing aversion to civilization, she was down there to keep from running into the cute nerdy alpha across the hall and risking mortification at him peeping her dainty underthings.
Honestly you hadn’t been sure the smell of urine was coming from either laundry basket.
Once you’d calmed down enough to pull your fathers off the edge of booking the next flight down there to rough up some nonexistent predator, you’d managed to finish your chores on opposite sides of the room, neither engaging in any conversation beyond muffled apologies of humiliation.
What followed was an uneasy truce born out of necessity, a silent acknowledgement that this would be a weekly safe space free from judgment and criticism. Silence turned to whispered greetings, whispers became timid banter, until eventually you were confessing in therapy to eating homemade peanut butter cookies on the floor in front of the laundry machines.
Now she was the only other person in this whole entire city besides Dr. Miranda that you could go to for advice and needed companionship.
Originally you had no intention of exhausting any more of your social battery than had already been consumed. But therapy wasn’t for another week and you had too much bubbling inside to be contained by the cramped confines of your studio apartment. And Chloe was considerate enough that she knew not to overstay her welcome, her own introverted alarm clock ringing about the same time as yours.
“If only that had been the hard part,” you replied with a sigh, taking the parcel of outstretched goods and moseying on over to your butt shaped indent on the far end of the couch.
The sound of creaky hinges and clattering plastic informed you of Chloe’s detour to the kitchen. “Has that rust-bucket jalopy of yours finally gone to the great big scrap metal in the sky?”
Everyone’s a critic.
“How about we don’t put that out into the universe thank you very much.” Shoving a whole cookie in your mouth, you gratefully accept the cold glass of milk she passes over before taking up a spot on the cushion next to you, grabbing at her own treat from the open pack.
The mess of red curls atop her head and the loud pattern of her knit rainbow sweater deceptively implied a boisterous personality. Bright green eyes. A healthy dusting of freckles. Blue corduroy pants still smudged with gold leaf. One look at her 5 foot 11 stature and you’d think she was some sort of artistic fairy, flitting about from flower to flower like a social hummingbird. In truth she’d gone to school for fine arts, but in preparation for a career in conservation – something quiet and away from the harsh critics where she could help express someone else's ideas instead of her own.
Her soft hazelnut scent matches her sympathetic smile, always patient and warm with you. “Does it have something to do with why you smell like a latte? Oh dear–please tell me no one spilled hot coffee on you today!”
You duck your head from her doe eyed worry and concerned frown of dread, focusing on the cold bite of milk on your fingers as you plunge another sugary morsel into your clear plastic cup.
As toxic as it might have been, you couldn’t bring yourself to wash the scent of alpha from the pores of your skin.
“Chloe, I…” Here goes nothing. “I met someone yesterday…”
For the second time in less than four hours you found yourself spilling your heart to a friendly ear.
She heard all of it. The supermarket run-in. Tantalizing lemon. Silky coconut. Devastating chocolate. Therapy. The coffee shop mishap. Being gentled by a complete stranger.
The promise kept safe in your electronic device.
Where Dr. Miranda had broached the topic with a level-headed sense of therapeutic resolution, Chloe had all but clutched her pearls the longer your tantalizing tale was spun. She wore her expressions the way she wore her heart on her sleeve, squeezing the life out of a proffered couch pillow in a way that made you hope she didn’t have any pets at home.
“How could he possibly expect any of this to not come crashing down in a fiery hellscape of cataclysmic fury that would put Dante’s inferno to shame?”
Can you tell she went to catholic school?
“I mean… it's not like I caught him off guard technically,” you try to bargain. “Like yeah, today’s meeting wasn’t exactly on purpose, but they would’ve had a whole night to discuss things amongst themselves. Maybe they just reached some sort of weird agreement with her?”
She bites her lip to hide the sympathetic frown. “Do you really believe that though?”
No. No you didn’t.
It wasn’t hard to put yourself in her shoes considering the thick iron cable anchoring you to another. If that bond came with passion... if you knew the cloying taste of devotion – the idolatry that comes from having your molecules grafted onto a lover’s DNA – you’d shred every muscle strand in your body, tear skin from bone with bloodied teeth to keep what was coveted.
And here you were. The other woman.
Suddenly the chocolate dessert didn’t taste so appetizing.
At your lack of a meaningful answer, she unknowingly goes for the throat.
“Perhaps you should tell them–”
“No.”
The ice in your tone brokers no room for argument, instantly regretting the bite behind it as you watch her flinch back into the cushions with a meek whine.
Your expression softens in guilt. Chloe is just trying her best to help you navigate an otherwise impossible scenario. Her suggestion doesn’t come from a place of cruelty, only one of care. Even if it does speak of ignorance.
Not that she didn't still try.
“Wouldn’t you want to know if the roles were reversed?”
“And what good would that do?” you press far more gently this time, the acid of pain climbing up the back of your throat. “No matter what they say there’s no tangible future for us. That ship has well and truly sailed – I know that now. My destiny was signed with an iron pen and the deed says I belong to him.”
Your voice quivers on the last word, the sting of acceptance cutting into flesh with a rusty barbed wire. You never thought there could be a feeling worse than hopelessness.
“Telling them will only ensure that both parties suffer for another’s twisted scheme,” you continue past the lump in your throat, “and I won’t subject them to the burden that should be only mine to bear. I refuse to let them live with that guilt.”
Maybe it’s her beta upbringing that keeps her from fully understanding the colossal weight of putting your bonded through such inner turmoil. Chloe will never know what it means to share someone's emotions across an unwavering connection. Pack life isn’t barred from her, but the same primal urges that draw us towards our mates are nothing but strings of thread easily pruned.
Truthfully most betas never want it. To them, we all drew the short end of the straw; being forced into subjugation by ancient instincts that never shed their skin after the last ice age.
After the eternally looping rollercoaster that's been holding you prisoner the past four years, you can't say you disagree with them anymore.
“...maybe they chew with their mouths open.”
The huff she pulls from your chest is genuine, catching you off guard with the attempt at levity, the small roast doing its job of diffusing the atmosphere. Her extemporaneous remark reflects the giggles in her eyes begging you to play along.
“Bet they don’t wash their buttcracks either,” you add with a half-grin after a few moments of quiet, relishing in the way she covers her mouth to stifle a snort. Her energy is endearing, granting you leave to feed off the sunrays of her carefree aura, unblemished by the malice of a hateful underbelly, continuing for the next couple minutes that her presence lingers.
If only laughter was all it took to make everything better.
Consciousness greets you like a lifelong friend – one waiting to welcome you into outstretched arms, promising comfort and geniality with its disarming smile, swaddling you in a blanket so thick and plush it cradles you like a pregnant mother’s womb. It beckons with a silvery tongue, promising a joyful reunion as you give yourself over freely under the guise of a fresh start.
All the easier for it to slip a knife between your ribs.
You should’ve known better.
Sleep hasn’t been your ally since the night before the incident. Rest is not restful; it is a time where the walls between protection and abuse are at their thinnest. Where the toxic sludge of your connection oozes through the cracks like bubbling tar and coats your insides with its virulent adhesive. It chokes you with its noxious miasma, seeping into dreams and disturbing the regenerative process vital to your health.
Each day starts the same – dealing with the consequences of life on a strained leash.
Awareness comes into focus next like a camera in the exclusion zone, grainy and crackling under the effects of radioactivity while spreading like the beginnings of cancer through the pores of your skin. It clings around the edges, lethargic in its letting go, giving way only to the melodic chiming of your phone’s alarm that might as well be set to a booming fog horn.
Eyelashes crusty with dried salt crystals peel apart like fly paper, pupils fully dilated as the blackout curtains remove the need for constriction. The rumpled towel beneath you leaves tender spots on your back from where it bunched up in the night – a result of the fitful writhing when the nightmares your mind guards you from remembering leave your body feverful and drenched, soaking through the lightweight sheets and condensing in a thin layer of slimy moisture.
And the nausea.
God, the nausea.
The condition was a constant in your life, but its disruption was the worst during the early hours of the day.
Movement requires a delicate balance first thing in the morning. Jostle your body too much and the empty bin wedged between your bed and your nightstand gets reacquainted with the bile of your stomach (they’re apparently in an intimate relationship that you’re just sandwiched between like an awkward third wheel).
Problem is, barring the use of hefty restraints, it's impossible to know which side of the bed you’ll be waking up on. Literally.
Some days you find yourself facing the drab interior of your studio apartment rather than covered window panes, knowing the energy required to roll over towards the small nightstand will likely result in the emptying of your insides. Sleeping on your back had potential, but your form preferred to curl in on itself for lack of anything else to bring it comfort.
Lady Luck had apparently seen enough of your mental breakdowns the past forty eight hours to grant you a reprieve, taking pity on your string of misfortunes as the first thing your eyes take in upon blinking free from sand is the heavy satin of your window coverings keeping in the dark – some lavender pattern to help match the rest of your nesting materials. They’re still fresh out the box after all these years, though the accumulation of filth would tell you otherwise, dust bunnies taking up residence on the weighted linen.
Your furnishings haven’t been bathed in sunlight since the moving van.
The well-loved bottle of Zofran sits in its spot on the corner of your nightstand, next to your still ringing phone and a robin's egg stanley, a glass picture frame shoved in the far corner on the other side of your table lamp.
Still wrapped in a thick fog of drowsiness, leaden muscles flex and groan as your arm stretches the short distance, ears taking priority and fingers tapping at the illuminated screen until they locate the damn snooze button. Popping the small oval pill comes next, chasing it with lukewarm water before burrowing back down into the soft minky goodness of your comforter.
You're awake an hour before you need to be, but not to get anything done. No rejuvenating shower. No balanced breakfast and a half hour of yoga. Just adjusting to the abject misery your bond greets you with every day as a not so gentle reminder of the alpha you left behind.
It’s a constant struggle to remind yourself that the suffering is worth it for the lifetime of abuse from which you escaped. Better to be tormented by a path you chose than one unwillingly taken.
About forty minutes go by before the medication kicks in enough to allow you freedom of movement, pulling yourself from the tangles of your bedding with aching joints and low fuel reserves. Walking into the bathroom, you squint against the blinding overhead fluorescents, rubbing the spots from your eyes as you take in your frumpy reflection.
There’s a photograph next to your bed that you haven’t glanced at in a few months. Six familiar faces beaming into a camera lens somewhere high in the mountains. A family vacation from eight years ago; the best summer of your life.
That girl in the picture is nowhere to be found.
Spiritless eyes meet your gaze in the glass, early crows feet forming from periods of prolonged stress. A bone deep exhaustion reflected in your undereye bags, the dull pallor of your complexion. The frizziness of unmoisturized locks begging for a drink. Wind chapped lips and an eternal frown.
The oversized shirt hangs baggy on your form, once belonging to your brother but now in your possession. If you lifted up the garment you could practically count the ribs, a once healthy layer of fat and muscle cannibalized by famished cells and underutilization. It's hard to keep on weight when your stomach rejects the nourishment you try to provide.
If this is the empty shell you’ve become a full continent away from him then it’s hard to imagine what lifeless husk of a creature you might’ve deteriorated into under his brand of care.
There’s no more energy left by the time you do your business and finish brushing your teeth, knowing what few bolts remain will have to go towards the impending headache of customer service. Taming your unruly hair will just have to wait until later – if at all.
You flick the lights on as you pass, trudging on shaky legs to the cabinets above the microwave. There’s still too much unease in your tummy for your usual coffee order, opting for a mug of herbal tea to help settle the irritated organ, a spoonful of honey cutting through the mild bitterness. Settling on a sleeve of poptarts for a lazy breakfast, you lumber your way over towards the couch and the awaiting annoyances.
Opening shifts were always the worst.
Originally you’d approached the company with open availability in hopes of bettering your chances at landing a remote job. In those days, commuting to a location had been out of the question. It took months of submitting applications – relying solely on your family for all your expenses – before someone finally gave you an opportunity to rejoin the workforce.
(You wept the day you received the offer from HR. Having even a sliver of autonomy returned to you after a tumultuous period without it was as the first melting snow of a long envisioned spring).
Unfortunately it meant you were handed the hours no one else wanted to take. Most days that was the early shifts.
It’s not like you work a whole hell of a lot. The job itself is only part time after all and fairly easy; fourteen hours max per week. But you’d quickly learned that the later you were scheduled, the clearer your brain was to focus, the better you performed overall.
Now if only the big wigs at corporate would allow you to update your availability. When last you’d scrounged up enough courage to broach the topic to your immediate supervisor you were promptly informed that there was no current flexibility to your role and, when pressed, sent a look via Zoom that clearly said don't push it.
So much for ‘warm family environment’.
A small rolling side table acts as your makeshift desk, the apartment too cramped for something proper no matter how many attempts to tetris the layout. One of your fathers had come up with the brilliant solution while shopping at ikea for new end tables, spotting the piece of furniture and shipping it out to your location. You’d had to brave the awkward visit of the buff delivery man for a signature – hiding behind the door jamb like a sketchy criminal – but the purchase had been well worth it for how cluttered your poor kitchen table had previously looked, a jumbled mess of pens and wires, certifiably hazardous with its lengthy extension cord.
Armed with soothing chamomile and a warm knit blanket thrown over your lap, you boot up your laptop and log onto the program that would keep you chained to it for the next six hours.
Ask anyone that deals with customers directly: Christmas is the least wonderful time of the year.
Garbled phone calls over shitty receptions. The droning monotony of preplanned scripts. Old bitties recounting eight decades of family drama. Mass hysteria around shipping delays. ‘Happy Birthday Steve’ and the audible slick of his palm. Entitled socialites for whom the word ‘please’ never came preinstalled in their gold filigree hoity-toity dictionaries.
The fifteen minute break is almost insulting. As if anyone can decompress in such a meager timespan. It’s no wonder why people used to chainsmoke their way through the stress of their jobs.
You try to remind yourself of the before times – the trials and tribulations that came from previous employments. Long grueling hours spent pent up in bustling kitchens, the dinner rush on crab leg nights testing your arm strength and patience for slow steamers. Pushy roofing salesmen harping over impoverished neighborhoods. Car guys calling you toots and insisting on being assisted by a ‘real professional’.
This job was by far the most laid back. No fussing over business casual, no extroverted coworkers crowding your space, no bosses micromanaging for the sake of being assholes. You were living a cushy life by comparison.
But then your mind wanders to Jose on the third floor kitchen, busy doing prep work for the various departments; a kind man once he warmed up to you and found you competent enough to last. Always sneaking you tender bites of grilled meats and a bowl of creamy lobster bisque.
Nyle bringing you ladies in the office a round of Starbucks when he came in for mandatory meetings. Sharing music with Stacy and gabbing about just aired episodes of your favorite tv show. Heather bringing in fresh blueberry bear claws from the local bakery near her home.
Going to the irish pub across the street with the guys in finance that knew the owners, getting drunk off free whiskey and cider on Friday nights. All smiles and laughter as you twirl across the dance floor to a live band performing hits from musicians like Flogging Molly and Great Big Sea…
…and you realize just how much you took for granted. That there’s a palpable difference between surviving and living.
You don’t even notice you’re six minutes over break until your laptop pings from someone trying to get in touch with you, startling you out of melancholic reminiscence and bringing you back to a somber present that longs for the taste of livelihood.
That time has ended; those figures mere ghosts of a past better left forgotten in the vaults of your memory.
Now, you make a small but tidy living solving other people's problems a few hours a week. Enough to pay for personal bills, groceries, and the occasional indulgence while your fathers provide the bulk of your utilities and the sum of your rent. Your lost independence used to bother you more, but the thought of a homeless shelter quickly silenced your tongue.
Your cellphone reads one o’clock by the time you're freed from servitude, happy to be logging off as you push the rolling setup back out of the way. The air bubbles between the contours of your spine pop and crackle as you rise to your feet, ignoring the rush of lightheadedness from six hours remaining stationary. Resisting the urge to itch at the healing scab on the side of your neck, you pad into the kitchen to whip up a turkey sandwich – cautiously optimistic on the inclusion of juicy pickles – before plopping back down in your usual spot.
The acidity doesn’t seem to upset your stomach any further, allowing you to munch in peace on the simple scrapings of lunch, scrolling through the kindle app on your phone for something to occupy your time with.
There’s never much to do around here when the people in your life are busy living their own. Your family checks in on you every so often, catching you up on the goings-on in the quiet neighborhood, your father taking the opportunity to gush about his lego collection to someone other than his partner for a change. You miss the camaraderie that came with building the Death Star.
Despite living hundreds of miles away, their calls always made you feel as if you were gathered around the sectional in the warm lit interior of the sprawling living room, Christmas tree glowing by the light of the fire, a hot cup of cocoa and the merriment of family.
The same couldn’t be said for your younger brother Alex.
Ever since moving out at eighteen he'd become quite a prick, a beta complex a mile wide that only got worse when he surrounded himself with the wrong kinda crowd. The loss of his once fervent companionship had devastated you. After the accident that brought your parents to an early grave, you’d kept each other afloat through turbulent waves of depression, tidal waves of grief. Six became four, but – even though that wound would never fully heal – you still had the strength of their love to turn to when forgone memories played like black and white film.
But after that last argument…
Four became three.
It's been years since you last had any type of contact outside the occasional cheap greeting card – just another notch added to your mile long grinchmas belt come the holidays.
Fuck him.
Shaking yourself out of that spiraling rabbit hole, you turned back to the task of entertainment at hand. Since you didn’t feel like spending any more time on the phone listening to idle chatter than you already had today, you settled for choosing a book at random from your extensive TBR, diving into a medieval fantasy where brave warriors slayed evil dragons and an honorable knight could still save a princess.
The minute hand goes round and round.
Dinner is as simple an affair as lunch; a cheap frozen pizza popped in the oven adding an extra layer of warmth to the already balmy interior. There’s no need for a plate as you pull it off the wire rack onto the cardboard box it came in, gooey cheese bubbling hot and steamy, sizzling toppings shiny with bright orange grease, savory aromas wafting as they ride the circulation of the antiquated heating system.
Years of battling chronic fatigue have made you crafty, cutting corners on labor with gathered tips and tricks accumulated over hours of lengthy research. There’s no need to add to your pile of dishes; no plates or utensils to scrub free of dried food particles. Just you and your fingers tearing through the saucy meal chunk by chunk.
Dr. Miranda tells you it's all about the little victories. The moments of accomplishment no matter how insignificant. Doesn’t matter how you get the job done so long as it happens. Roll out of bed? That’s a win. A sleeve of ritz crackers for a meal? Glad you got sustenance. Just because you weren’t claiming a nobel prize didn’t mean your triumphs were any less important.
Didn’t leave much in the way of riveting stimulation though. Just acclimatizing you to existing in a hamster ball where the difference between day and night is as little as the am or pm on the clock.
After all, it wasn’t like your body signaled a change in energy levels. There’s no ‘getting tired’ when you never wake up.
The only time you ever felt a sense of normalcy was when you started the process of getting ready for bed, pinpoint focus narrowing in on the task of fixing your nest. Logic shuts down and gut feeling takes the reins. You lose yourself in the fussing over placement of plush fleece and textured sherpa, jersey knit sheets and squishmallow plushies. Weighted quilt blankets and cloud-fluffy pillows of various shapes and sizes, the assortment of pastel pinks and lush earthy greens giving off the enchanted forest vibes held dear to your heart.
It wasn’t large or luxurious by any means, but the few modest pieces you did have were plenty enough for the cozy space, strewn across the full sized bed in an organized haphazard chaos understood only by the omega instincts that dictate your actions.
Only, there’s something wrong…
You lament the smell of mildew as your nose breathes in the cloth of your pillowcase, whining in dejection at the offense to your delicate olfactory senses and pawing at the material in shame.
An omega’s nest is a vital part of the care and keeping of their fragile emotional state. Oftentimes they’re seen as a reflection of their owner's inner consciousness and a handy tool to monitor their anxiety levels on a day to day basis. An unkempt nest can not only signal deeper depression, but if neglected for too long may result in bodily dysregulation that can affect them even right down to a molecular level, throwing hormones out of whack and causing real physical illness.
Your nest hasn’t been properly cleaned in far too many months – no doubt adding to the high levels of stress that already permeate your everyday life. The sacred space that’s supposed to be your safe haven acts as just another graphic reminder that he’s taken everything from you. There's no true relaxation in your life because of it.
For what was the point of washing the sweat-stained fabric if there’s no stopping it getting soiled again the following night?
Pulling the musky sheets up to just below your chin, you stare blankly at the evidence of what happens when you get your hopes up, sitting plugged into the charger on the corner of your nightstand.
The phone hasn’t rang once.
You’ve been religiously checking the screen all day. Turned the volume from vibrate to blaring. Unclicked ‘do not disturb’ mode (turns out even telemarketers think you’re a waste of time). The device went everywhere with you, whether it was ten feet to the bathroom or six inches across the couch. Your desperation might have been otherwise embarrassing, but there was no worry of judgment besides your own in the guarded solitude of your apartment.
He'd given you a thimble of hope, and you were clinging to it like the last drop of water.
Whether it be a call or text; you didn’t know. But he promised you... promised you… that you’d be hearing from him soon. Threatened you against inaction on your part. And you’d just believed him. Believed that even for a moment – some tiny fraction of oblivion – there could exist a world where you didn’t have to feel quite so fucking alone.
What exactly has he been up to? Some prior commitment that pulled him from his phone? Maybe he’s just stuck at work all day? But then surely he doesn’t pull twelve hour shifts. Not like you found out their given occupations yet. Which means he’s gotta be sick, right? The weather’s been atrocious and you hadn’t physically seen him get in a car when he left.
Shit! He went home smelling like you. How did the pack react?
How did she react?
They didn’t get into a fight did they? She probably forced him to delete your contact info. God, you were so selfish putting them through this mess. But hadn't John been selfish too in wanting to keep you around? Was that really a pack decision?
The tears culminating in your eyes were pathetic. Acid rain bleaching your pillowcase in big caustic globules, seeping into the fabric and burning through the thin membrane of your cheeks. Bitter rage tainted the half formed excuses, corrupting like malware into personal betrayal.
How could you be so foolish? What part of ‘you’re not allowed to be happy’ did you not comprehend? Hadn’t you already learned not to shoot for the stars, much less the occupants of unit 2B?!
Poor, stupid omega.
You grasped your chest as if that could stop whatever clawed beast was burrowing its way past your ribcage to dig out a hole and lay its clutch. Flicking the bedside lamp off brought you as much darkness outside as there was feasting on your entrails and gorging itself for a long unforgiving winter.
Curling up in your repugnant nest, you couldn’t keep your heart from shattering as each teardrop extinguished the sputtering flame of hope.
You never got around to fixing your hair.
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hi!! i really loved your eddie fic "home"!! chris scared of y/n leaving made me feel so 🥹🥹
would you be able to write an eddie diaz x buckley!reader fic where the reader is also a firefighter in the 118?
Thank you so much for the request!
PROTECTIVE - EDDIE DIAZ
The tension in the firehouse of Station 118 was almost palpable whenever Eddie Diaz and Y/N Buckley were in the same room. Eddie, with his charming smile and confident demeanor, seemed to effortlessly annoy Y/N, whose sharp tongue and fierce independence often clashed with his playful, flirtatious nature. The situation was complicated further by the fact that Y/N’s brother, Buck, was Eddie’s best friend and partner at the fire station.
Eddie often found himself at the Buckley apartment, where Buck and Y/N shared a living space. What was meant to be a simple arrangement for Buck and his sister often turned into a battlefield whenever Eddie was around. The playful banter between Eddie and Y/N was a source of amusement for Buck, but it was also a constant source of frustration for Y/N.
Y/N Buckley was not one to back down from a challenge. Her determination and strong will had earned her respect at Station 118, but they also meant that she and Eddie were frequently at odds. Eddie’s flirty comments, which were meant to be light-hearted and playful, often struck a nerve with her. She found his constant teasing infuriating, not realizing that beneath his jokes, Eddie was genuinely intrigued by her strong spirit.
--- --- ---
Day-to-day life at the firehouse was a mix of adrenaline-fueled action and mundane routine. The team at Station 118 was a tight-knit group, and despite their differences, they functioned as a well-oiled machine when it came to saving lives. Y/N and Eddie’s professional relationship was no exception. They might have bickered off-duty, but on the job, they had each other’s backs.
Eddie’s playful nature never missed an opportunity to tease Y/N. “Hey, Y/N, did you lose a bet with fashion today?” he quipped one morning as she walked in, her expression already showing signs of exasperation.
“Shut it, Diaz,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “You wouldn’t know fashion if it hit you in the face.”
Buck chuckled, watching the familiar exchange. “You two should just get a room,” he joked, earning a glare from his sister.
“Not in a million years,” Y/N and Eddie replied simultaneously, their voices laced with mutual disdain.
Despite their constant bickering, the rest of the team couldn’t deny the chemistry between them. There was an unspoken connection, a tension that simmered beneath the surface, hinting at something deeper than either of them was willing to admit.
--- --- ---
The day started like any other at Station 118. The team was gathered in the common area, going over the day’s schedule and cracking jokes. Eddie and Buck were engaged in a heated discussion about a recent basketball game, while Y/N sat nearby, rolling her eyes at their animated debate.
Just as the laughter echoed through the room, the alarm sounded. Instantly, everyone was on their feet, the camaraderie giving way to professional focus. They moved with practiced efficiency, each member of the team falling into their roles as they raced to the fire trucks.
“House fire reported on Elm Street,” Bobby Nash, the station captain, announced as they boarded the truck. “We’ve got reports of people trapped inside. Let’s move, people!”
Eddie and Buck exchanged a serious glance, the gravity of their mission settling in. Y/N was already geared up, her face a mask of determination. The rivalry between her and Eddie was forgotten, replaced by the urgency of the situation.
As they arrived at the scene, thick smoke billowed from the two-story house, flames licking at the windows. Neighbors stood outside, watching in horror as the fire consumed the building. The team sprang into action, their training taking over as they worked to contain the blaze and rescue the trapped occupants.
Eddie and Y/N found themselves paired up, working together to search the upper floor for any survivors. The heat was intense, and the smoke made it difficult to see, but they pressed on, determined to save anyone they could.
“Over here!” Eddie called out, spotting a faint outline through the smoke. Y/N was right behind him as they approached a closed door. They could hear faint cries for help coming from inside.
Without hesitation, Eddie kicked the door open, revealing a young woman huddled in the corner, coughing and gasping for air. Y/N rushed to her side, helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the window.
“We’re getting you out of here,” she assured the woman, her voice calm despite the chaos around them.
Eddie broke the window, the glass shattering as fresh air rushed in. He and Y/N carefully helped the woman through the opening, lowering her to the ground where paramedics were waiting.
As they prepared to continue their search, a loud crack echoed through the house. The floor beneath them began to give way, and Eddie grabbed Y/N’s arm, pulling her back just in time as the wood splintered and collapsed.
“We need to get out of here,” Eddie urged, his usual playful tone replaced by serious concern.
Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. Together, they made their way back through the smoke-filled hallway, their movements swift and coordinated. They had just reached the stairs when another loud crash sounded above them.
“Hurry!” Y/N shouted, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.
They descended the stairs as fast as they could, emerging from the house just as the roof caved in. The rest of the team was there to meet them, relief evident on their faces as they saw Eddie and Y/N emerge unscathed.
--- --- ---
Back at the station, the adrenaline rush began to wear off, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Y/N sat in the locker room, wiping sweat and soot from her face. She was physically and emotionally drained, the events of the day replaying in her mind.
Eddie entered, his usual swagger tempered by the day’s ordeal. He glanced at Y/N, his expression uncharacteristically serious.
“You did good out there,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.
Y/N looked up, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks,” she replied, her tone softer than usual. “You too.”
For a moment, the usual animosity between them was absent, replaced by mutual respect and understanding. It was a rare glimpse beneath the surface, a reminder that despite their differences, they were a team.
Eddie hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but I respect you, Y/N. You’re one hell of a firefighter.”
Y/N felt a flicker of warmth at his words, the sincerity cutting through the usual banter. “I respect you too, Eddie,” she admitted. “Even if you do drive me crazy.”
A small smile tugged at Eddie’s lips. “It’s a gift,” he said, his playful tone returning. “But seriously, I’m glad we’ve got each other’s backs out there.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie that she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge before. “Me too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
--- --- ---
Days turned into weeks, and life at Station 118 continued at its usual hectic pace. Eddie and Y/N’s relationship remained a mix of playful banter and professional respect, but there was a subtle shift in their dynamic. They still bickered, but there was a newfound understanding between them, a recognition of the bond they shared as firefighters and friends.
One evening, Buck invited Eddie over for dinner at the Buckley apartment. Y/N, unaware of the invitation, was less than thrilled to find Eddie at their doorstep when she returned home from a long shift.
“Great, just what I needed,” she muttered under her breath as she walked into the living room, finding Eddie and Buck laughing over a game on the TV.
“Hey, sis! Join us for dinner?” Buck called out, oblivious to the tension between his sister and best friend.
Y/N sighed, too tired to argue. “Fine,” she said, dropping her bag by the door and heading to the kitchen. “But I’m not cooking.”
Eddie followed her, a smirk on his face. “Need some help?” he offered, leaning against the counter.
“No,” Y/N replied curtly, opening the fridge and pulling out ingredients for a quick meal. “I’ve got it.”
Eddie watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You know, you don’t always have to be so tough,” he said quietly.
Y/N paused, surprised by his words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Eddie said, stepping closer, “that it’s okay to let people in sometimes. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”
Y/N stared at him, the familiar irritation mixing with something else, something softer. “Why do you care?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Eddie shrugged, his gaze steady. “Because I do.”
--- --- ---
Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. It was a rainy evening, and Y/N was driving home after a particularly grueling shift. Her thoughts were scattered, a mix of exhaustion and the lingering conversation she’d had with Eddie. She barely noticed the slick road and the car speeding towards her until it was too late.
The collision was violent, the impact sending her car spinning off the road. Everything became a blur of pain and darkness as she lost consciousness.
At Station 118, the alarm sounded, pulling the team from their evening routine. “Car accident on Maple and 5th,” Bobby announced as they scrambled to gear up. “Multiple vehicles involved. Let’s move!”
Eddie and Buck exchanged a glance, their usual banter absent as they focused on the task at hand. As they arrived at the scene, the sight that greeted them was chaotic. Cars were scattered, some overturned, with injured people trapped inside.
The team sprang into action, each member taking on different tasks. Eddie and Buck moved towards a badly damaged car, working to free the person trapped inside. As Eddie peered through the shattered window, his heart stopped.
It was Y/N.
“Buck, it’s Y/N!” Eddie’s voice cracked with panic as he recognized her.
Buck’s face went pale, his professional composure slipping. “We need to get her out of there,” he said urgently.
Eddie’s hands trembled as he worked to free Y/N from the wreckage, his mind racing with fear and guilt. He could see her injuries, the blood staining her clothes, and it felt like a knife twisting in his heart.
With the help of the team, they managed to extricate Y/N from the car. Eddie cradled her in his arms, his usually steady hands shaking. “Stay with me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. “Please, stay with me.”
Buck was by his side, his face a mask of anguish as he watched his sister’s unconscious form. “We need to get her to the hospital, now,” he said, his voice tight with fear.
The paramedics took over, loading Y/N into the ambulance. Eddie and Buck rode with her, their hearts heavy with dread. The usually confident and playful Eddie was a wreck, his mind consumed with worry for the woman he realized he cared about more than he had ever admitted.
---- --- ---
The hours that followed were some of the longest and most agonizing of Eddie’s life. He and Buck sat in the hospital waiting room, the sterile environment doing nothing to calm their nerves. Eddie’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, guilt, regret. He replayed every interaction he’d had with Y/N, every teasing comment, and wished he could take back every moment of tension between them.
Buck was equally distraught, his worry for his sister palpable. “She’s strong,” he said, more to himself than to Eddie. “She’s going to make it.”
Eddie nodded, but his heart was heavy with doubt. He couldn’t shake the image of Y/N’s bloodied and broken form from his mind. The realization of how much she meant to him hit him with full force, leaving him feeling helpless and lost.
When the doctor finally emerged, both men stood up, their faces etched with anxiety. “She’s stable,” the doctor said, a note of reassurance in his voice. “She’s going to be okay, but she’s going to need time to heal.”
Relief washed over them, but the weight of the situation still lingered. Eddie felt a wave of gratitude, but also a deep sense of responsibility. He vowed to himself that he would be there for Y/N, no matter what. The playful facade he had maintained for so long was gone, replaced by a newfound resolve to be the support she needed.
“Buck,” Eddie said, turning to his friend. “You should go home and get some rest. You’ve been here all day. I’ll stay the night and make sure she’s okay.”
Buck looked at Eddie, his eyes filled with gratitude and exhaustion. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to leave her.”
“I’m sure,” Eddie replied, his tone firm yet gentle. “I’ll call you if anything changes. She’s going to need both of us when she wakes up, and you’ll be no good to her if you’re running on empty.”
Buck hesitated for a moment, then nodded, recognizing the truth in Eddie’s words. “Thanks, man,” he said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t,” Eddie said, giving Buck a reassuring smile. “We’re in this together.”
As Buck left the hospital, Eddie settled into the chair beside Y/N’s bed. He watched her sleep, his heart aching at the sight of her injuries. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
“I’m here, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
--- --- ---
Y/N’s recovery was slow and painful. She spent several days in the hospital, her body battered but her spirit unbroken. Eddie was a constant presence by her side, his usual teasing replaced by genuine care and concern.
One morning, Y/N stirred from her restless sleep, her eyes fluttering open. The sterile white ceiling of the hospital room came into focus, and as she turned her head, she saw Eddie slumped in the chair beside her bed. He was asleep, his head tilted awkwardly to one side, his expression soft and unguarded.
The sight of him there, keeping vigil through the night, sent a surge of emotions through Y/N. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge before. Despite their constant bickering, Eddie had been there for her when she needed him most.
Y/N’s movement stirred Eddie from his slumber. He blinked groggily, his eyes widening as he saw her awake. “Y/N,” he said, his voice thick with sleep and relief. “You’re awake.”
“Hey,” she replied, her voice raspy. “You didn’t have to stay here all night, you know.”
Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to leave you alone.”
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, the sincerity in his words touching her deeply. “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Eddie reached out, taking her hand in his. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said softly. “You had us all worried.”
Y/N managed a small smile, her fingers curling around his. “I guess I gave everyone quite a scare, huh?”
“Yeah, you did,” Eddie admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “But you’re tough. I knew you’d pull through.”
For a moment, they simply held each other’s gaze, the usual barriers between them gone. In that quiet hospital room, surrounded by the hum of machines and the scent of antiseptic, something shifted between them.
--- --- ---
As Y/N’s recovery progressed, she and Eddie spent more time together. The hospital room became a space for honest conversations and shared vulnerabilities. Eddie’s presence was a constant comfort, his playful facade giving way to a more tender, caring side.
One evening, as the sun set outside the hospital window, Y/N turned to Eddie, her voice filled with curiosity. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, her eyes searching his.
Eddie smiled, his eyes softening. “Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I realized. And I’m sorry for all the times I made things difficult between us.”
Y/N was silent for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “I never hated you, Eddie,” she admitted quietly. “I just didn’t know how to handle you.”
Eddie chuckled, a sound that was both light and filled with emotion. “I guess I didn’t make it easy, did I?”
Y/N managed a small smile. “No, you didn’t. But I’m glad you’re here.”
--- --- ---
Y/N’s discharge from the hospital marked the beginning of a new chapter in her life. While she was relieved to leave the sterile environment behind, the road to recovery was still long and fraught with challenges. Eddie, who had been a constant presence by her side during her hospital stay, continued to be her unwavering support.
As she settled back into the Buckley apartment, it became clear that Eddie’s concern for her had intensified. He was attentive to her every need, often to the point of being overprotective.
"Eddie, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can make my own breakfast," Y/N said one morning, gently trying to ease his worry.
Eddie was in the kitchen, meticulously preparing scrambled eggs. He looked up, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "I know you can, Y/N. But you need to rest and focus on healing. Let me take care of you."
Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You've been taking care of me non-stop since the accident. Aren't you getting tired?"
"Never," Eddie replied firmly, placing a plate in front of her. "You're more important to me than anything else."
--- --- ---
Eddie's overprotectiveness extended beyond the confines of the apartment. At work, he was constantly checking in on Y/N, ensuring she wasn't overexerting herself. This behavior did not go unnoticed by their colleagues at Station 118.
"Y/N, you okay? Need any help with that?" Eddie asked for the third time that day as she worked on a routine maintenance task.
Hen rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she passed by. "Eddie, she's fine. You've got to let her breathe a little."
Y/N shot Hen a grateful look. "Thank you, Hen. See, Eddie? I'm in good hands."
Eddie sighed but nodded, knowing his friends were right. "I just... I worry, you know?"
"We know," Chimney said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. "But you've got to trust that Y/N can handle herself. She's tougher than you give her credit for."
Despite his friends' reassurances, Eddie couldn't shake his protective instincts. Every time he saw Y/N wince or heard her sigh in discomfort, his heart clenched with worry. He knew she was strong, but the thought of losing her or seeing her hurt again was more than he could bear.
One evening, as they sat on the couch watching a movie, Y/N turned to Eddie, her expression serious. "Eddie, we need to talk."
Eddie muted the TV and faced her, his heart pounding. "What is it?"
"I appreciate everything you've done for me," Y/N began, taking his hand in hers. "But you're smothering me. I need to feel like I can do things on my own again."
Eddie looked down, guilt and concern battling within him. "I just don't want anything to happen to you."
Y/N squeezed his hand. "I know. But I need to regain my independence. And you need to trust that I can take care of myself. We'll face any challenges together, but you have to give me some space."
Eddie took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry, Y/N. It's just... seeing you hurt, it scared me more than anything."
Y/N sighed. "I know. And I love you for caring so much. But we'll get through this together, okay?"
Eddie's heart skipped a beat at Y/N's words. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of surprise and hope. "You love me?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N's cheeks flushed pink, but she didn't look away. "Yes, Eddie. I love you."
A rush of emotions flooded through Eddie—joy, relief, and a profound sense of gratitude. He had hoped for this moment, but hearing the words from Y/N's lips made it feel like a dream come true.
"I love you too, Y/N," Eddie said, his voice filled with sincerity. "More than I ever thought possible."
They sat there for a moment, letting the weight of their words sink in, the warmth of their love enveloping them like a cozy blanket. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the TV and the comforting presence of each other, they knew that their bond was unbreakable.
As they leaned in, their breaths mingling in the air charged with anticipation, Eddie and Y/N shared a moment that felt like the culmination of a lifetime of unspoken emotions. Their lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss—a gentle exploration that spoke volumes of their love and longing.
It was a kiss filled with a quiet intensity, a silent declaration of their deepest feelings. In that fleeting moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the electricity of their connection.
Their hearts beat in sync as they melted into each other, each brush of their lips a whispered promise of forever. And as they pulled back, their eyes locked in a shared gaze filled with newfound understanding and a sense of completeness, they knew that this kiss was just the beginning of their journey together
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"We are calling for court support on September 19 at 8:30am, in Fort Worth, Texas, in order to support drag defenders fighting a civil suit from fascist group New Columbia Movement. The courthouse is located at 100 N. Calhoun Street, Fort Worth, TX, and the hearing will be in the 4th floor courtroom for the 48th District Court
Once the courtroom fills up, we are also inviting people to stand outside the courthouse with signs and banners showing their support.
More details to come soon, but the tl;dr is that everyone should cover identifying markings as a standard anti-doxxing precaution, and should remember that the goal of this particular action is not disruption, we are here to stand in solidarity with drag defenders facing legal persecution and show them they're not alone"
@antifainternational @anarchistmemecollective @radicalgraff @kropotkindersurprise
#fort worth#texas#usa#america#drag queen#defense#september 19#2023#activism#humanrights#signal boost#signal b00st#signal boooooost#class war#classwar#lgbtqia#lgbtqia+#lgbtqia+ solidarity#drag queens#antifascist#antifaschistische aktion#antifascismo#antifaschismus#anarchy#anarchism#anarchist#anarchocommunism#anarchopunk#anarchofeminism#anarcho syndicalism
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forgive me if I’m not explaining this concept properly as I am currently SOBBING MY EYES OUT FROM YOUR FANFICTION CHARLIE.
imagine that once all the slashers left when they were deemed sane they all accidentally moved to the same street or something and we got Slashers the Sitcom
this is the only thought I’ve had since reading that that didn’t make me cry so I felt you should have it
the Hannibal’s should be their creepy out of town tourists or new neighbors that get a one season spin off show.
You’re doing great with your writing Charlie 😁
(Here is my fluff apology. 😉)
The nights had become too quiet. The facility once teeming with chaos, tension, and the unnerving energy of its infamous inhabitants now felt empty. You tried to adjust, finding solace in your routine, but nothing could fill the void they had left behind. The slashers—your slashers—were gone.
You had heard whispers about where they went, rumors from the outside world about strange occurrences, but nothing solid. Sometimes, you found yourself wondering about each of them—what they were doing, if they were safe, or if they even thought about you.
Then one night, as you sat in your office, the silence was broken. A chill ran down your spine, the hairs on your neck standing on end as you sensed…something. The feeling was familiar, one you hadn’t felt since they had left, and it made your heart pound. But before you could make sense of it, the lights flickered and the door creaked open.
You blinked, frozen in place, as Freddy Krueger strolled in, his signature smirk plastered across his face. "Missed me, sweetheart ?"
Before you could respond, the room was suddenly filled with more faces—Bo, Jason, Pennywise, Brahms, and the rest of the slashers, all filing in like they had never left. All the slashers you had helped during your career. All the friends you had made along the way. They could barely fit all inside the room and you were suddenly surrounded.
"Boys, boys, give ‘em some space !" Bo barked, pushing through the group. "Can’t just barge in like that !" His gruff voice carried the same Southern twang, but his eyes were softer than you remembered.
"What…What’s going on ?" you managed to choke out, your mind spinning as you looked at each of them. "Why are you all here ?"
Freddy chuckled, running his claw along the edge of your desk. "We missed ya, Nurse Y/N. Couldn’t leave ya in this dump, could we ?" His grin widened as the others nodded in agreement, some more subtly than others. "So we decided…why not kidnap ya ?"
Jason, standing silently at the back of the room, shifted uncomfortably, but even he nodded, his masked face giving you a reassuring glance.
You were dumbfounded.
"You’re not serious…"
Brahms stepped forward, his voice soft and pleading. "We didn’t want you to be lonely…You took care of us. Now we’ll take care of you." He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm before he held your hand.
Before you could react further, Penny popped up beside you, his grin sharp and wide. "Guess what, Nurse Y/N ? We’ve all decided to move to Elm Street !" His voice was filled with manic glee, and he leaned in closer. "And you’re coming with us."
Your eyes widened.
Elm Street ? What was that ?
Freddy’s chuckle darkened. "Oh yeah, baby. We’ve got the perfect place for you, right in the middle of our little setup." He leaned closer, his claw resting lightly against your cheek. "You’re gonna love it. It’s got that…cozy, homicidal feel to it. With spiderwebs and we spent weeks painting the walls. Yer gonna love it, I tell ya !"
"Come on, darlin'," Bo added, crossing his arms. "Ain’t no point stayin’ in this dead place when you could be livin’ with us. We got a home now. Together."
Your heart raced. This was too much. How ? When ? What ? "But why—why would you want me to live with you all ? I thought you’d…want your freedom."
Michael stepped forward then, towering over the others. He didn’t speak, of course, but the way he placed his hand on your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You were part of their family now, and they weren’t going to leave you behind.
"You gave us freedom, sweetheart," Freddy purred, his voice softer now. "But what’s freedom without a little fun ? And we all know you’re the one who kept us in line. Plus, we’ve kinda grown attached. I MEAN BORED ! Yeah. Bored. ‘Cause ya know…we slashers feel bored when we ain’t got ya around to mess with and shit…"
Bo raised an eyebrow and smirked at Freddy before elbowing him playfully.
"Nice save, dumbass."
Freddy flipped him off in response while you tried to make sense of everything.
Brahms clung to your side, his eyes wide and desperate. "Don’t make us go without you again…please."
You felt a wave of warmth rush over you, despite the absurdity of it all. These killers, these monsters who had tormented so many, had come back for you. Not out of revenge, not to pull you into some twisted nightmare, but because they genuinely wanted you with them.
You swallowed hard, trying to process it all. "So…you really all want me to move to Elm Street ? With you ?"
Freddy grinned, slapping Jason on the back. "Told ya they’d come around."
Bo sighed, rolling his eyes. "We ain’t askin’, darlin’. We’re tellin’ ya. Yer comin’ with us. Now, move that cute butt up yer chair and let’s go."
Pennywise chuckled. "We already packed your things, Nursey." He gestured dramatically to the doorway, where your bags were already neatly stacked.
You blinked, completely dumbfounded, before a small laugh escaped your lips. This was crazy. You were crazy. "You packed my things ? But…what about the staff ? What about the board ?"
Jack smirked before giving you a paper which wrote that the board had been warned and that since there were no more patients inside the hospital, you and the staff should move in Elm Street to keep an eye on the slashers.
"All taken care of, sweet cheeks."
Your eyes widened and they filled with tears.
They must have spent weeks to get that authorisation and convince the board. You looked up at them and Patricia smiled before wiping your tears with her thumbs.
"Now now, dear. Don’t cry. It’s okay. We were not going to abandon you. Not when you never abandoned us."
"But how did you…How did you even plan for all this ? How did you…?" You were at a loss for words.
Freddy shrugged and playfully winked at you. "What can I say ? We’re thoughtful that way."
In that moment, you realized there was no point in arguing. This strange, dysfunctional group had wormed their way into your life, into your heart. And now, they were offering you a place with them—a very surprising tempting offer that you knew you had no choice but to accept. Not because you didn’t have a choice, but because you genuinely wanted to.
"Alright," you sighed, smiling softly. "I’ll come with you."
The room erupted into cheers—well, as much as this group of killers could cheer. Freddy whooped, Bo grinned, and even Jason’s eyes sparkled with something close to contentment. Brahms hugged you tightly, and Pennywise cackled in delight.
You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. Maybe Elm Street wasn’t the safest place in the world, but with them…it didn’t seem so bad. And as you stepped outside the facility for the last time, surrounded by your unlikely family, you realized you weren’t going to miss the quiet anymore.
You were going home…
"WELCOME TO ELM STREET, BABY !"
#fandoms#imagine#fanfic#pennywise 1990#slashers#pennywise 2017#pennywise x reader#michael myers x reader#freddy krueger x reader#jason voorhees x reader#elm street#slashers au#brahms heelshire x reader#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader
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