#fear street kurt x reader

[supercap2319]

Can you do some more Kurt from fear street smut please

"I know it was you, Berman. You stole my fucking beer and condoms. Give em back." Kurt pushed Y/N against the cabin wall. The Sunnyvale counselor of Nightwing had caught Y/N Berman running from his cabin and when he checked to see if any of his stuff was missing; he noticed his alcohol and condoms were missing and immediately suspected Y/N.

Y/N looks at the other boy with a grin on his face. "Why would I want your STD rubbers? And you have shit taste in beer. What should I expect from a preppy pretty boy Sunnyvaler?"

"You talk when I want you to talk. You got that you Shadysider trash?"

"Is that the best insult you can come up with? Boy you Sunnyvalers are terrible at trash talking." Y/N jokes as Kurt gets angrier at him. "You got a big fucking mouth on you. I should keep it busy."

"With what? Your terrible beer?"

Kurt had enough as he roughly pushed Y/N to his knees before he pulled his cock out of his shorts and slapped it against Y/N's cheek. "Get it wet for me, bitch."

Y/N wasn't about to take orders for a pretty boy like Kurt, but he couldn't deny that blowing the hottest guy at camp Nightwing was a lewd fantasy. Especially with what he had in store for him. Y/N opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around Kurt's dick and started to suck him as the counselor began to moan and groan at the wet mouth on his cock. He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged hard as Y/N bobs his head back and forth. Taking everything that Kurt is giving him, and swallowing it down like a pro. Y/N wouldn't say he was a slut, but he's had lots of practice blowing his fellow Shadysiders. Kurt was a challenge.

"Yeah, just like that. You were born to suck cock. A cocksucking whore." Kurt moaned as he looked down at Y/N. Seeing the little shit where he belonged. On his knees for Kurt. The sight made his cock twitch harder as he began to thrust his hips in and out of Y/N's mouth, creating a saliva trail. Y/N began to gag on Kurt's big cock as the other boy grabbed his head and held it in place as he face fucked him. "Fuck, yes! Damn are all you Shadyside guys cock sucking faggots, or are you the exception?"

Y/N moaned around his length as Kurt continued to fuck his mouth until he was getting close to cumming. He looks down at Y/N and smirks at him. "Take it you little bitch!" He moans as he came inside Y/N's mouth. Filling his mouth with rows and rows of hot white seed and some of it dripped down Y/N's mouth.

Kurt pulled out and tucked himself back into his shorts. "Damn. You have a pretty good mouth."

"And you look good when you cum. Right, Ziggy?" Kurt and Y/N looked to see Ziggy Berman with a polaroid camera.

"You're fucked up, Berman's!"

[lisacomeuseucu]

Curses pt2

• Fear Street. 1978 - "I swear, if I could I would change their story, I would try to make them live" That's what she said to herself.

It's been three days since I arrived at the camp, I've been getting along with the main ones, especially Tommy and Ziggy, they're the people I get along with the most, Ziggy a day later came after me to thank me for saying those things to Sheila, but I said I just told her what she deserves. I'm helping some children with some drawings they're doing but I'm going to leave soon, I'm next to the chubby boy with glasses, I feel embarrassed for having forgotten his name but as he doesn't appear much in the film itself it was easy for me to erase him from my memory, the important thing is that I know the true focus of the story, I come out of my thoughts and look at the boy's drawing, his drawing is childish but very detailed, he made two drawings symbolizing Shadyside and Sunnyvale, which I genuinely find incredible, I come close and I crouch at his height. — " I loved your drawing! It would be a great idea for each city to have its own symbol. " I say to him with a big smile on my face, it's not the first time I've praised the things he does, it's sad that in the movie Don't show too much of his talent, he can be very intelligent in various activities, the boy gives a shy smile and looks at the drawing again, I noticed that his cheeks are pink, poor boy, he's a little shy. I leave the cabin and look around, children are running everywhere, I have to remember where Tommy is, I start to walk through the camp observing the details, children practicing archery, others are swimming in the lake, some children are playing hide and seek and others with their own games, from the corner of my eye I see Alice walking with her boyfriend, I start walking towards them, — "Alice! Where are you going?" I ask her, making the blonde turn to me, — " We're going after drugs in the infirmary, you better not tell anyone! " She points a finger in my direction and I make the zipper gesture over my mouth. — " Do you know where Tommy is? ". — " He must be doing homework with our perfect Cindy, why do you want to know about him? " She asks me, leaving me surprised, why do I want to see him? I stutter a little before responding. — " He's my friend, I want to talk to him. " I respond shyly as I start to scratch the back of my neck, Alice responds with an eye roll and goes back to walking with her boyfriend, I start walking back the cabin to see how the drawings are going when I bump into two people, Tommy and Cindy, both of them were hugging each other, — " Damn, sorry! I hadn't seen you, I was distracted, anyway, I was looking for you. Really sorry. I'm really sorry." I say with my hand on top of my chest, Cindy shakes her head in denial with a slight smile. — " It's okay, just be careful where you go. " She answers me gently. — " Why were you looking for us? " Tommy suddenly asks me. — " I wanted to spend some time with you, are you going to do anything? " I start to exchange glances from Tommy to Cindy, afraid of disturbing them. — "We're going to clean the cafeteria but if you want, you can accompany us." Cindy suggests with amusement, I quickly shake my head in agreement. — "They were very close to each other, I hope I didn't disturb any special moment." I make a sarcastic comment to try to liven up the atmosphere, Tommy laughs and then responds. — "Don't worry, you didn't disturb anything.". — "If I had gotten in the way, I would have been blaming myself all day." I answer him, smiling.

— " Miss Y/n! " I turn back when my name is called, I look down and find the same boy I praised, he has a paper in his hand. — "Ah! Hi! How can I help you?" I asked him with a gentle smile, he hands me the paper and then leaves as quickly as possible, leaving me completely confused. — "What was that?" Cindy asks me, I look at him in a daze and answer. — " II don't know... I wasn't expecting that. " I look at the paper in my hands and notice the drawing of a heart and my name written on it, — " Damn, you received a love letter! " Tommy says with a small laugh, Cindy looks at him in surprise, I start to open the paper seeing that there is a text for me to read. “Councillor Y/n, these last few days you've been making me nervous and with butterflies in my stomach, I think I've fallen in love with you, I think you're very pretty and friendly, I like being in your company. I understand that we are different ages but I still want to know if you want to be my girlfriend, Miss Y/n. " My eyes widen with each word I read out loud, Cindy is in complete shock while Tommy has an amused smile on his face, — " H/n did I receive a letter?! " I am startled by the sudden appearance of Alice in front of me, the blonde takes the paper from my hands and starts reading it, I get up and go towards her to get the letter back but she avoids it, meanwhile Tommy is having a fit of laughter as Cindy orders him to stop.

— " What are you going to do? Write another letter to the boy? " Alice asked ironically, — " No! I'm going to go after him and talk to him!! " I take the letter tightly, and put it in the pocket of my shorts, I look at it. them making an irritated face — " They shouldn't be laughing at him! It was cute, I think it's his first crush. " I scold them but I look at the floor, Cindy nods and starts talking — " She's right It's not right to make fun of us, we should talk to him and explain that we can't be together." She says looking at all of us, Alice just rolls her eyes while Tommy starts to nod, he looks like a dog always agreeing with its owner. Arnie has a smile on his face, trying to hold back his laughter, I start walking, leaving the place and looking for the boy. I've been looking for him for a few minutes now, luckily he signed his name on the paper, Jeremy, I'm sorry kid but his name is very easy to forget. I'm looking everywhere looking for him and so far I haven't found him, I think I'd better try to find him again in the cabin. The cabin is silent which means there is no one in it, for now, even so I enter, a silence cannot stop the boy from hiding here.

— "Jeremy? Are you here?" I call him to see if he appears, little by little I see half of his head appearing, he is hiding under the table, heading towards where the boy is, who is sitting on the floor hugging legs, an attitude that I believe is to hide my shame, I sit next to him looking at him, waiting for him to say something but nothing, ten seconds of silence that seem like hours. I sigh, preparing myself for what I'm going to say. — " I read your letter, I'm not mad at you, I don't want you to worry about it. " I start, Jeremy is already looking at me looking a little relieved. — " I understand you like me and are happy when I compliment you but I can't date you. " Jeremy quickly changes the direction of his gaze and starts looking at the ground. — " Jeremy, look at me. " I ordered, it took a few seconds before he looked at me again. — "I'm much older than you, it would be wrong on both sides, but I'm sure you'll find a girl your age that you'll be together with. Friends, ok?" I opened my arms, offering him a hug, Jeremy nodded in agreement and snuggled into my arms, I patted his head as a way of comforting him. — "Now let's get out of here, we'll be called to the cafeteria soon." I say while breaking the hug and standing up.

The day went by quickly, we went to the cafeteria and as soon as I sat down with the group they asked me what the whole conversation resulted in, I didn't expect them to ask all together at the same time, making me almost fall out of fright, I answered them summarizing everything I had said. It happened but the important thing was that everything had worked out in the end but Joan caught me by surprise asking me if I expected the letter to be from someone else.

— " But did you expect or expect to receive the letter from someone? Some boy? " For a moment paralyzed without any response, I was looking at the table but when I heard the question my eyes quickly went towards it. — "Well, you didn't tell us if there is any interest in anyone here at the camp, but if you don't want to tell us, that's fine! There's no need, right Joan?" Cindy tries to reassure me and discreetly threaten Joan, she rolls her eyes, we continue. putting herbs on a paper so he could smoke it, Tommy and Gary are silent but I can tell from their exchange of looks that they are both curious. My thoughts are racing, I didn't expect to receive a love letter, especially from a boy younger than me, but this doubt is in my head. Is there someone I want to receive something romantic from? It's really stupid that I start to have feelings for someone here mainly because of the end of the story, I certainly wouldn't receive a loving face from Kurt and I don't even want them to give me money! Alice certainly doesn't, she's dating, Ziggy doesn't either, much less Nick, Joan just wants to sit on Kurt, Gary, well... Probably not but if she did I'd reject it, Cindy I wouldn't be surprised but I know she has feelings for Alice, poor Tommy. Lastly, he was left, Tommy, the idea of ​​him writing a letter to me sounds cute, I don't think it would happen, now if I would reject it... I don't know... I really have no idea.

A hand starts to pass in front of my face, making me jump in fright, I look at the owner of the hand and see that it's Tommy. — " Are you okay? You've been quiet for a long time looking at the table, I started to think I was seeing something on it. " Tommy asks me worriedly but tries to make me laugh, I let out a weak laugh. — " Yes, yes, I am, I just started thinking about the question. " I answer him, making him less worried. — "Hey? Do you already have an answer?" Joan asks me, Cindy kicked her legs making her let out a low "There!". — " Well, I don't think so, no one has caught my attention like that yet. " I try to formulate the best possible answer without it seeming like I'm trying to hide something, and I'm really not, Joan just shakes her head, I don't think he believes it a lot on me. I took a quick look to the side, I see that Tommy has a strange expression on his face, perhaps disappointment? I don't know, but his reaction wasn't one of the best, meanwhile Cindy just gave me a smile in response .

Now it's night and I'm lying in bed in my cabin, Tommy's reaction stays in my head, was he disappointed with my response? Why would he be disappointed? What if he wasn't disappointed? Was he mad? Do you think I lied? I don't understand you Tommy, sometimes your reactions are confusing, other than that you are a good friend, a great friend. Sometimes I wonder a little about your past, who were you before all those events? Who are you really? Your parents or if you have a brother, if they had talked about you in the films I would have been interesting. Leaving my thoughts, I get up from my bed and go look for some pajamas to put on, before I can get any clothes I hear the sound of someone knocking on the door, I imagine it's Alice coming after me wanting some drugs. — " Get out Alice! I have nothing! " I say in a good tone so that the person on the other side can hear, — " It's me! Tommy! " I hear a male voice answering me, I stop going through my things and look towards the door that has a small glass window and in it I could see Tommy's face, a boy who is normally always smiling and happy is different, his expression on his face is one of seriousness and sadness? Sadness is not the best word.

I walk towards the door and open it for Tommy, giving him space to enter, Tommy enters keeping his head down, he is wearing a red plaid sweater. He sits on my bed and lifts his head looking towards me who is still at the door. When I close the door, I go to my bed, sitting next to Tommy, I wait for him to start talking and then he starts. — " I'm sorry I came so suddenly, I needed to talk to someone. " He says while looking at the floor of the room, his voice sounds serious, I put my hand on his shoulder and answer him — " It's okay, Tommy, something happened?" I'm worried about the subject of this conversation, I don't know what will come out of it and that scares me, it scares me a lot. Tommy takes his eyes off the floor and looks at me. — " Lately I've been feeling these confused feelings and I can't understand them, I can't understand myself! You know those moments when you realize it's supposed to be like this? I wanted to know how you know it's supposed to be like this, like you can you know?" Tommy explains the situation he is in, he was waving his hands and stuttering as he tries to explain, he is nervous, he looks into my eyes in search of an answer. I take my hand off his shoulder and place it on his cheek, stroking it. — "When you know, you know. I've had this same question thousands of times and I didn't know an answer either, but after a long time I understood, when it's supposed to be, you'll know." They watch me carefully, their gauze is softer than when they entered here. — " I understand, thanks for telling me. " He smiles, that same sweet smile he always has. — " Don't thank me. " I smile back at him, a deep exchange of glances begins to happen, our eyes never leaving each other, just looking deep into each other's soul, his eyes are like a deep sea in which I love to stay observing. Tommy comes close to me and hugs me tightly, I hug him even tighter, I smell his perfume on his plaid blouse. — " You better go before they find us and they think we're doing something stupid. " I whisper in his ear, I feel his body shaking with laughter, he lets go of me and nods and gets up heading towards the door but Before he can leave him looks at me. — "See you tomorrow." He says with a smile on his face, — "See you tomorrow." I respond, I see him leave my room and walk to his chalet. Maybe I'm just a little, a little bit, in love, but I hope not.

It's morning and I'm at the infirmary door, I sigh before opening the door. — " Infirmary Lane?! " I call out her name looking for the woman, I see her appear in the hallway after my call, — " Hi y/n, how can I help you? " The nurse asks me kindly with a smile on her face, — "I think I need a doctor." I say a little nervously, the nurse changes her expression to one of confusion. — " I'm not a doctor but I think I can help you, what happened? " She leads me to the stretcher room and makes me sit on one of them. — "My symptoms aren't that simple, no. I feel butterflies in my stomach, my hands get sweaty, I'm always distracted in my thoughts, I feel hot as if I have a fever." I answer her while fidgeting with my hands nervously, the nurse lets out a laugh which makes me look into her eyes. — " My diagnosis is that you're in love. " I raise my eyebrows in surprise, I admit that I thought it could be that but I don't want to believe it, I can't let myself be a fool. — " Is there no way to reverse it? " I ask her, making her laugh again. — No, but I recommend you find out who the boy is. " She responds with a gentle smile on her face, taking my hands and squeezing them gently so they don't hurt, I just nod my head. As I leave the ward I come face to face with Tommy talking to one of the children, noticing my figure he automatically smiles and waves his hand. Oops! I think I'm sick again.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

How To Adapt To Fire (III)

AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, death/gore, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, attempted murder, burns, needles, injuries, one dirty joke, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Running, the wind whips past your face with the force of a hurricane. 

The screams echoed over the abandoned neighborhood, leaking and rising as the illumination of a burning body sent slashing shadows along the remnants of houses. Flailing arms and sizzling flesh. It followed you as your feet slapped the concrete, satchel still at your side and your breath echoing in your ears. 

You don’t know where Duncan is—and you dare not look behind you as you dart into someone’s lawn, bee-lining away from Kurt’s now-silent inferno of burnt hair and cooking meat. Grass that grows up to your knees is shoved aside, broken down to the earth as your panting breath is too loud in your ears. It’s all you can hear now, which may be the worst part.

“Holy fuck,” your hiss under your breath, sweat dripping down your neck. Your hands were skinned in your little fall off the steps, but the sting as you slap your palm to the side of one of the houses is lost to you—pain doesn’t matter when adrenaline takes over. “Holy fuck.”

Your fingers drip crimson along the siding, but you’re gone again with ragged inhales, snapping eyes wide. You need to try and circle back for the car, you tell yourself. Patting your pockets for the hard pressure of your keys, you dash past a trash can and sigh when you feel them still there. 

And then you hear the whistling. 

It’s over the air, and in a skid of shoes, you halt and listen intently—a bird in the eyes of a fox. Lungs heaving, your head jerks around as a tune wafts up and pierces your ears. The sound echoes over the houses, flying across fallen roofs and peeling paint. You’re frozen, night corralling you in. 

“Who does this dude think he is?” You ask, a deep fear in your heart and an eerie feeling up your spine. 

It was getting closer. 

Heart stuttering, your legs take you up the back steps of a house to your left, hand snapping to the rusted handle and shoulder ramming into it. It gives way on the second shove, slamming into the far wall before you hit the ground and push on once more, the air gone from your body.

If Duncan can murder his own cousin in the way he had…what could he do to you?

Feet shuffling, your head moves quickly, taking in the decaying living room and joint kitchen—falling stairs that you instantly choose to run up, hands burning. 

Your only hope was the car; you needed to get to a vantage point, find out where Duncan was, and try to avoid him. It wasn’t any different than what you’d seen on TV…right? 

The wooden floor creaks like brittle bones, and you move across it while the scent of fire is still in your nose—gasoline and dead eyes. Your eyes go from one open door to another, beds covered with moth-eaten sheets. From outside of a broken window, you see shadows along the street; whistling. 

You choose a room at random and slink inside, hands already jerking into your satchel and pushing aside the active recorder—reaching for your phone. 

Looking between the window and the device, your dripping fingers slash through contacts until you can find the only one you think to call immediately. 

Smashing down on the green button, your phone is right at your ear as your heartbeat pulses like a drum. As it sits there, you gaze outside, panting with blood smearing along your flesh. You can’t stop thinking about Kurt—how you’d seen a man get burnt alive in front of you as if it were nothing. You’d heard and witnessed a lot of things and had been in more courtrooms than you can count…but nothing would ever top seeing the whites of a man’s eyes as his body erupted into flames. 

“Okay, okay,” the phone quivers, clothes ruffled. You hiss softly, not willing to make more noise than you have to. “C’mon, MacTavish.”

A long shadow looms in the streetlight and you drop to the floor swiftly, knees slamming the wood, just as the click on the line pushes through.

“Dearie,” the Scot’s teasing voice is a godsend. “Didn’t expect you to call so soon. Not that I—”

“I fucked up,” you breathe, and the fireman’s audible snapping of his mouth would have been comedic in any other situation. “I really fucked up, and I think I need a little intervention here before I literally go up in the flames of my ambition.”

You’re talking so fast you doubt he can even understand you, but you continue as your forehead peaks above the window frame. 

Duncan is at the house next to where you’re hiding. Standing out front with a gas can in his hand and a matchbox in the other. You watch with horrified eyes as he walks to the front porch, pours the accelerant, and steps back to light a match. 

“Oh,” you growl through a hurried gasp. “So now he decides to change M.O.”

The neighbor's home alights. 

He’s trying to corner you.

Johnny’s panicked voice wafts through. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Listen,” you watch the fire spread, hands spasming. “I was going to wait for you, alright. J-just then I decided to not do that and I—”

“What the fuck!” There’s fast movement on the other side of the line, seemingly paper and pencils hitting the floor as fast feet slam the ground. 

“It’s not my fault I’m a stubborn bitch!” You snap, moving your free hand to the back of your neck and rubbing along the sweat there, smearing crimson. “I can’t get back to the car right now and Duncan is lighting the entire neighborhood on fire to try and catch me. I have all of it on the recorder, and I can’t lose the evidence for the inevitable court case.”

Johnny’s voice is so serious and hard, you know you’ve never seen a side like this from him before. It’s nearly a growl. “I don’t give a shit about fucking evidence. Where are you?”

You rattle off Kurt’s address from memory, face streaked with light from the fire. It was going to spread to this house. The wood is like free food just waiting for it willingly; you have to move before it catches. With the condition of the home, it would only be kindling for a larger blaze ready to overtake the street. 

Johnny’s voice is heavy. “Stay where you are and—”

Your laugh is grim, and you move out of the room rapidly as the boom of falling wood makes the ground shake. Breath nothing more than a shaky jump in your nose, you push out, “Not an option.”

“What do you mean ‘not an option’ what the hell is going on over there?! I swear, I told you not to go without me!” 

“Bring the fire trucks! All of them!” You shout and hang up swiftly as Johnny’s loud call of your name is silenced. 

You’re halfway down the stairs when the back door you’d previously busted through creaks on its hinges. 

Above fire, above the pattering of your pulse, your eyes are stuck-still. Stationary. Stiff. 

Duncan stares at you—and you stare at him. 

It’s like time utterly stops, hit in the face by a metal pipe before its teeth get knocked to the ground in a clatter of white enamel. Shell-shocked. 

Your phone rings again—Johnny, no doubt, but when it does, Duncan pounces.

He tosses the gas canister to the ground, followed by a quick match as you curse and race back upstairs. The whoosh of flames bursts into existence as hard boots follow after you, hot on your heels. 

“Shit!” You yell, calling out a firm and fearful, “Duncan!” 

A hand swipes at your shirt collar before you duck and pivot, shifting to brace your feet and ram your shoulder backward. The man takes the force right to the chest and shouts, tilting on the steps with a flailing arm, fingers that card through the air. 

But you’re not quick enough in the rabid getaway. 

A hand latches onto your wrist, and then you’re being yanked down with him into the awaiting arms of the burning fire.

—

Johnny’s whole heart is more active than when he and you were stuck in the sheets together—arousal is nothing compared to the fear he feels. 

The man’s legs carry him quickly into the engine room, grabbing gear and sending out the alarm. Already calls were coming in from dispatch, worried civilians who had said they’d seen what appeared to be twin fires off into the more abandoned parts of the left-to-rot suburbs. 

His panic extends to the next country it’s so far-reaching. Your call—your voice—the things you’d told him and, worse, what you hadn’t. 

Why did you have to be so stubborn?

He needs to get to you, and he can’t breathe properly until he does.

It doesn’t take the firemen long to get into the trucks—the red demons rocketing out of the station with every blaring alarm at their disposal, and at every bump, Johnny’s stiff eyes glare openly at his lap. The others dare not say anything to him; they all know that look.

A man on the edge of a fraying line. Stuck on the knife—waiting for the final twist. 

With all of the gear, MacTavish could be compared to someone heading straight into war, and with the following wail of police sirens, maybe war was where he was always meant to be. Johnny fidgets, his fingers clenching and unclenching above the meat of his thighs, helmet on his head nothing but a weight of reminder. He was there to stop fires—he was there to put them out. 

But even God knew that the second his boots hit the ground, and the rest of the firemen were grabbing the hoses, he would be running into that inferno without a second glance backward. 

Johnny was born and bred from fire, and at the very end of it, the flames would take him back.  

Not yet, he’d say. Not until she’s safe. 

The Scot grabs the face-piece at his feet, fixes it over his visage, and listens to his own rabid breath echo back to him. It was louder than any other sound he’d ever heard.

The shaking of his fingers is a traitorous beast.

—

Dragging an arm over the ground, the first thing you do is cough through black smoke. 

Mind delirious, you blink rapidly, stinging eyes unwilling to stay open for long simply due to the spike of irritation—instinctual tears blurring the few moments of clarity to be offered.

You choke on nothing and burn through all of it. 

Flopping, you force your body up onto its hands and knees, the world tilting even then as palms drag and fingers dig. The second your tears slap your knuckles, a leg to your ribs is kicking you back down. 

Yelling in pain, you sprawl to your spine, body bouncing as the sound of fire eating away drywall and dead wood sizzle in your eardrums. Your skin is sweltering, and you can’t stop the flood of sweat dripping off your flesh—it nearly hurts.

Head shaking, wet hands grasp at your wrists forcing them back. 

“You could have left,” Duncan hisses above the waves of spreading fire. If you wanted to live, you had to get out now. The very bones of this house are threatening to buckle like the spine of an old man—visible rafters beginning to cave. Splintering wood. Creaking. “You could have stayed out of it!”

You yell, legs kicking out with the strength you can muster above the carbon monoxide coursing through your blood. Your muscles need oxygen. You need to breathe.

Your lungs are too tight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Cursing, your body lashes, Duncan and yourself battling along the burning ground as the roof across the room caves in, sending ashes and a large tsunami of orange rolling ever upwards and a shockwave that gives a sliver of an opportunity. 

The both of you hiss, arms moving up to protect your faces. 

Your clothes are ruined—ripped; torn. You don’t even care about any of it. There’s a ferality to you now, a bleeding fear that far drowns even the blood of your skinned hands. As you’re trying to stand again, Duncan tries to barrel into you. 

“I warned you to stop looking into it!” He rages. “Look what you made me do! I killed Kurt because of you!”

You grapple for your satchel, his shadow nearly on top of you before your arms flex and spring like the trigger of a pistol. Swinging the bag back, you send it in an arch with your hands gripping the tough material. The heavy thump and grunt resonates quickly as you hack again, sirens just beginning in the distance totally lost to you. 

“Maybe,” you speak on smoke-tight airways—a heavy wheeze as the fire licks your arms. You shout, almost dropping your bag. “You shouldn't fucking kill people!” 

Your hands grasp the satchel once more, lifting and striking down as Duncan yowls, finally grabbing it and tearing it out of your hands. He wraps his arms around your waist and sends you both directly into the heart of the blaze with an animalistic shove.

Crashing, the immediate flush of fire is so hot that it’s cold—like you’re plunged into ice, even as you feel your skin sizzle. Yet, the resounding scream is nothing compared to the roar of rage as an axe is taken to the last standing wall of the house. 

You fight with Duncan all the while the heat overtakes you, clawing and yelling; nothing more than a banshee of snapping teeth and hatred. The man forces you down, the warmth cooking the skin of your back one patch of flesh and fabric at a time. 

Fingers curl your throat as you dig your thumbs into your aggressor's eyes, choking; wheezing. Black begins to settle in front of your hazy vision, seconds leaning into longer glimpses of moving shadows and growing pain—a pain that adrenaline can only do so much against. And then, just before Duncan’s blood can drip down to your face, his eyes leaking and red, he’s ripped off in a flurry of fast hands and muffled calls. 

An oxygen mask flashes across your dying field of view, and a helmet—a fireproof jacket. Wide, panicked cobalt eyes. And yelling…so much yelling. All of it is stuck behind material that makes it sound like there are voices hidden underwater. 

Hands skimming your shoulders, dragging you out quickly as your bloody fingers grasp in dying panic—fading senses. There are others too, three inside of this house all frantically moving. Ducan is being restrained as well as he’s able to be, dragged back with two sets of hands—one on his shoulders the other on his legs like a child. 

You, on the contrary, get taken up in a fast set of arms more bulky than they are not, shoving you into a heavy chest until your face is hidden into a neck protected by a high collar. 

“Pencils!” Your body burns, and your face contorts as your focus can finally bleed into it. 

Shaking—quivering, your ears are ringing and the rushing feet below you jostle your form. 

Finally making it outside, it’s not a moment later that the entire house falls into itself, a tomb of fire and near death—lost to all but ash. Sirens are suddenly louder; shrill voices. 

Johnny’s hurried voice, and the sound of a mask being ripped off of his face. “Medic!” 

You pant, mouth opening but no words coming out beyond a sharp gasp for fresh air. Something is fitted over your face before you’re lying down on a cot, and your fingers reach but meet air. Head craning up, you blink just in time to see it as the EMTs begin jogging over to their ambulance. Johnny moves and grabs his helmet and throws it to the ground, barking something so loud that you’re broken mind can pick it up.

“Give the fucker to me!” The accent makes it all the more violent, and as your oxygen mask is strapped to your head, you stare owlishly, visage awash with blood and tears. You don’t even want to look down at yourself, and in this haze, you’re not even sure you’d be able to. 

But you can see the rabid events unfolding like your very own TV show. 

Firemen try to grapple Johnny back, but it’s useless to try and stop a brick wall. The Scot shoves one away before his gloved fingers snatch a restrained Duncan, and throws him up on his charred legs.

Senselessly, the arsonist smiles—it’s a distant, psychotic thing. 

“You know the journalist—” A fist is sent hurtling into his face.

Falling back, Duncan cries out as his nose breaks in multiple places; shattering like glass under the force of a steel hammer. 

“Get over ‘ere.” Johnny’s voice is raspy; guttural. You cough and the EMTs connect an IV to your arm, quickly nearing the ambulance as they try to coax you to lay back down. “Bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bending above Duncan’s body, MacTavish gets in two more sharp blows before he’s torn away with yells and orders—shoved with appeasing pats to his arms and desperate pleas to hold out. 

The police rush over, restraining Duncan and forcing his unconscious body to the side. Blood stains the ground, and the fires continue to blaze—others in the background trying to push it back. 

Chest heaving, your throat is raw, but even so, as the EMTs can’t stop you from weakly peeling back the oxygen mask, you call hoarsely, “Johnny!”

You’re loaded into the ambulance just as his eyes snap over, his chest rising and flailing through all of that gear still visible. Calming words find your ears as the medics move the oxygen back over your nose and mouth, holding it so you can’t take it off again. 

The back door is about to be slammed shut before the familiar square face bullies itself in. 

“Sir, you can’t—!”

“Drive,” the fireman shuffles into the seat directly across from you as large, damp, rags are set over your flesh in quick succession as you hiss, eyes flinching shut. Johnny grunts at the EMT who blinks quickly before he twitches at the sound of your pain; jaw clenching. “...Before I get into that seat myself.” 

The engine rumbles to life, and Johnny’s the one who takes your hand into his and drops his tone—moving closer. It takes a moment for his worry to be shoved behind a lens of surety, not for himself, but for you. 

The uncertainty in your eyes made him want to storm backward and show Duncan what fists can do when that’s all you have to rely on instead of cowardice. Fire was a tool of a weakling, and no man was weaker than one who tried to murder someone like you and your bright intellect. But there was no use thinking about it now.

“Oh, Hen,” Johnny’s voice cracks, eyes glancing you up and down quickly as the EMTs do their work. You wouldn’t be awake much longer—if you managed to fight the pain, they’d put you to sleep for your own safety. 

The burns were…they weren’t good.

“Hey, now,” the fireman eases, forcing a small smile and capturing your ash-smeared cheek. He doesn’t care about the state of his gear—the heavy oxygen tank on his back—all he needs is to hold you; even as little as this. “You just let those boys do their jobs, yeah? They’ll have you back up in no time at all, Pencils. Breathe for me, Dearie.” 

Your fast breaths stutter and the scrape of your vocal cords makes Johnny flinch, his eyelids pulling in as a grimace shifts the lines of his face. 

The man fights with himself to snap at the others and make them tell the driver to push the gas harder. He knows they’re going as fast as they’re able.

You try to speak, but Johnny shuts it down with a firm shake of his head. Seeing the packages of sterile bandages being unpacked with rapid hands, knowing the sting that will follow as they’re placed on leaking skin, the Scot moves closer and lightly shields your vision of it.

“No, c’mon now, don’t speak.” An unsteady smirk. “I know I take your breath away, but let's just wait until you’re at the hospital for all of that, eh?”

At the jerky glare coming off of you, a sliver of his panic leaves him.

Johnny tries a weak chuckle before it falls flat. 

Your eyes pick up on the agony before the black at the sides of your vision sweeps in—taking you away as the first press of wrappings along your back make themselves known. His hand stays firm at your cheek; thumb moving over the skin until that’s all you can focus on anymore. 

His touch. Not the fire’s—not Duncan’s. His. The same man that held you close and watched your back. Who had run into a burning house for your safety even if that was his job to do so. 

Johnny seems to be thinking the same because before your head goes limp against the cot, the familiar drawl sings you to sleep.

“…I would have searched that house for you until it fucking took me with it.”

—

The voice recordings from your charred satchel were in police custody, just as Duncan was. 

Along with the thick bindings that had taken home along your back and the upper part of your shoulders, there were others. Your voice was still a crackling mess—as if the fire had left behind a remnant of itself there, an ever-bending and shifting shard directly in your throat. Not even water could get rid of the itch, but you’d been told it would get better. 

All things considered, it could have been worse. 

There was a shit load to do—to explain. Duncan's involvement as well as the deceased Kurts, whose face still haunts you even now; it probably always will. 

Johnny’s shadow flashes in front of yours and you blink quickly, clearing your head. A pause emanates, and the man’s brows tighten. 

“What?” You try to clear your throat and grimace, the hospital bed uncomfortable for you. You’d much rather prefer Johnny’s. 

“I asked you if you’d want any more blankets, Bonnie,” the Scot’s head tilts. He hums. “More medicine? Feeling alright?” 

“So doting,” you huff, fingers rubbing at your neck before Soap sighs and stands from the side chair he’d been in. “No, I’m…fine.”

“My job.” Johnny grunts and his hand pushes away your own, fingers finding the spot that itches internally and carefully massaging until you’re like putty in his hands. In fact, you nearly purr before you sag into him, eyelids drooping. There’s a smug glance tossed your way. “And I don’t mean to brag, but I think I’m doin’ pretty good.”

Your lips pull, vision slipping upward. “Careful, people will think I got married over the span of three days.”

Johnny blinks, “Didn’t we?”

Your face burns. “No, MacTavish we did not. Hot-head. All the fumes go straight to your head, I swear.” All the talking was only aggravating your voice, but for the life of you, you can’t stop. 

Johnny rolls his eyes, skull tilting. A bead of serious talk leeks in as his fingers shift from your throat to your head, tips stimulating your scalp which you hum approvingly to. “What’s the plan?”

You think for a moment, letting the man come and lay a firm kiss on your temple. Your heart knows he intends to stay with you through all of this—already he’d been out on paid leave about the whole ‘attacking a restrained man’ fiasco. The bastard deserved it, Johnny had growled to you yesterday as he helped you drink water. You had to agree. 

“Sleep,” your answer is soft and simple. There was no use fretting about the whims of a far-off tomorrow. The future is a fickle creature, ever changing shape to fit the image it wants to play with like a doll at the nearest moment—there was never a pen in your pocket that was trying to jot down its profile; to understand it. Johnny was here, the bed was warm, and his hands were kind. 

That was all you needed.

Cobalt eyes stare for a moment at your response, before the Scot chuckles. “...Well, I can’t fight you there.”

Your hand lightly snares his wrist, and you pull him to you, letting his body melt back onto the bed until you can rest your temple on his shoulder and sigh out your tension. Johnny’s arm curls carefully to rest on your lower back, as delicate as glass. 

It’s a while before he speaks again. 

“You really did worry me,” he whispers, staring into the ceiling and trying to make images out of the shadows on the ceiling. “If I hadn’t gotten there…”

“You did,” you utter, eyes half-closed and fingers rubbing at his stomach. He shivers. “One-way road, Johnny. Stop that.”

“Doesn't make me feel any better when you’re stuck in here for two more weeks.” A smile pulls your face and he glances down, feeling it against his shirt. “...What are you smiling about?”

You hide it into his chest and he shakes his head in exasperation, scoffing.

“I swear, I’m the only one who cares about your safety and then I get mocked for it.”

“M’not mocking you,” your muffled voice grumbles out. “You’re just pouting.”

Johnny grunts, rolling his eyes. “Course.”

“Proving my point.”

“Next time I leave,” Soap’s lips are atop your head, muttering. “I’ll be tying you to the bed and watching you through the camera.”

A thin trail of jumpy laughter echoes out into the halls of the hospital, and your response is just as quick as it always is—as it always would be through Hell and high water. This wasn’t an ideal situation, and there would be more trials to come both literally and metaphorically, but Johnny made for a good rock through all of it. 

He certainly was a better informant than you intended him to be. 

“Ooo, Mr. MacTavish,” a loud groan, laced with a fond, almost worshiped, adoration. “I didn’t know you could be so risqué.” 

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

[eternal-sunshine-222]

MISCELLANEOUS MASTERLIST

Hello! My name is Kandi and I am an aspiring author. In this masterlist you can find all my works for this series linked under their respective characters. I write for the characters listed but I will make exceptions if requested. Thank you and happy reading!

SIMON KALIVODA (FEAR STREET)

-coming soon!

KEVIN KHATCHADOURIAN

-coming soon!

JARETH THE GOBLIN KING (The Labyrinth)

-coming soon!

MORT RAINEY

-coming soon!

VICTOR VAN DORT

-coming soon!

TARRANT HIGHTOP/THE MAD HATTER

-coming soon!

EDWARD SCISSORHANDS

-coming soon!

LYDIA DEETZ

-coming soon!

WEDNESDAY ADDAMS

-coming soon!

MORTICIA ADDAMS

-coming soon!

JOEL MILLER (The Last Of Us show)

-coming soon!

ELLIE WILLIAMS (The Last Of Us show)

-coming soon!

GILBERT GRAPE

-coming soon!

ARNIE GRAPE

-coming soon!

JUDD BIRCH (Big Mouth)

-You Big Softie, You! (Judd x Fem!Reader)

KURT KUNKLE

-coming soon!

This masterlist along with my others will be updated any time a new fic is dropped or in the process of being worked on.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

wip list.

currently in the works: ➺ idtyn | part 3 redux (billy/oc + steve/oc) // rewriting ➺ dwytom | ch. 10 (gator/oc) // 20% complete ➺ worth the squeeze | ch. 3 (steve/reader) // 5% complete

on the back burner: ➺ stranger things/fear street '78 au (camp counselor!steve x reader) // plotting ➺ fool for you* (baron/reader) // 40% complete ➺ just a ride | pt. 2* (benny/reader) // 45% complete ➺ n/sfw alphabet headcanons for gator and steve ➺ kurt kunkle/reader one shot // plotting ➺ all in | ch. 2 (trust fund cole/oc) // plotted

➺ all that glitters; a bioshiock crossover | ch. 2 (billy/oc) // 50% complete

updated: 11/09/24

[daydreams-magic01]

You murdered my sister

(Nick Goode x wife!reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Main Masterlist

Requested by:  rosemarielancaster1369

Fandom: Fear Street

Year: 1994

Request: ‘Hi ! Sorry if I’m not doing this right, I’m still trying to figure out how to use tumblr. I was wondering if I could request a “fear street” x reader (the third movie) I was thinking Nick Goode (sheriff Nick) and the reader (she/her pronouns preferably) are married and Deena, Josh and ziggy tell her about the “Goode’s” being evil and all and just her reaction to that maybe also her helping set up the trap for Nick at the mall, sorry if that’s confusing or too long, if it is, I totally get it. Thank you for your time !

Ps. I love your writing, I think it’s amazing !’

Thank you so much! I love this idea! I made her Ziggy’s sister for drama. Is that okay?

Thank you so much! And it is not too long, it is wonderful!

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, mentions of family member death and children loosing their father, and sister loosing sister. Mentions of murder and betrayal.

Also, I don’t know how to feel about this, haha...

Words: 1.4K

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine. There is also some dialogue from the movies, as part of this one shot is set in a scene from the film, I do not take credit for that dialogue.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01​ .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added.

Thank you.

:)

"How dare you. Goodbye." (Y/n) slams the phone back on the receiver, flashing it the bird.

A bunch of teenagers decided to pull a prank, and at first, they had her; they rang up, saying that those two junkies were not the killers, and she believed them, offering to help and get her husband until they told her 'who' it was.

Her husband, Nick Goode, aka 'Sheriff Goode,' is most definitely not a killer.

(Y/n) freezes for a second, facing the open kitchen doorway, and thinks. At the -

No way.

Scoffing, she shakes her head and picks up her coffee mug, heading into the living room. These are her few minutes of rest, having just gotten the children to bed and very tired herself. She usually waits up for her husband, but he told her to head to bed as he will be out late.

However, hopefully, this coffee will keep her up for a couple more hours.

Maybe -

Nah.

She sighs and grabs the remote, the news channel instantly lighting up - there is her husband. She smiles at his face, feeling his gaze and love for her through the screen, almost as if he is looking right at her.

Her smile falls at the reminder of the atrocities that have occurred this night, reminding her of the camp. Her sister died that night.

She still finds herself in disbelief over the fact that Tommy would kill his girlfriend and all those children.

(Y/n) looks over to the picture of her and her friends on the wall. It was taken the morning of the Camp Nightwing massacre. They are all smiling; they were so happy.

Back then, Nick seemed to have had a crush on Ziggy; thankfully, he didn't, as it would be weird being married to him then, seeing as she is her sister.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/n)." 

Her eyes shoot open, and she jumps, rolling off the sofa and onto the white rug. "Ziggy?"

There, above her, is her smiling sister, who she hasn't seen in years. Ziggy has never bothered to come and meet her nieces and nephews. 

"Get out."

Her smile falls as (Y/n) pushes herself up, lowering her voice to a whisper, "how did you get in here?"

"Why are you whispering?" Ziggy practically shouts, making her wince. Before she can speak, her sister takes in the room, her smile falling as she sees all the family pictures, "you married Nick?"

"He married me," she doesn't know what exactly she is saying, but all those insecurities from when she was a teenager are coming back and her embarrassment and shame.

She frowns and sighs, "I'm not surprised; I am the one who cut him out after all."

(Y/n) pulls a face, throwing her hands up in the air, "he chose me, Ziggy. Please get over it."

Her sister rolls her eyes, crossing her arms, "and you should have said no." There's a pause as (Y/n) glares at her sister, holding back profanities. 

Grabbing the remote, she switches off the television, turning to resume her glares at her sister. "Well, I said yes, and look what it got me, beautiful children and a happy marriage." Her sister's face falls, "so please, lower your voice."

"Listen, (Y/n), I didn't believe it at first either, but you should have said no."

"She's right," a male's voice states from the corridor, making her jump again. She goes to speak, but before she can, the out-of-breath boy does, "my sister wasn't lying on the phone. Your husband is evil."

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sarah Fier is not the witch."

(Y/n) is sat on the sofa, Deena, Josh, and Ziggy standing in front of her in the form of a semi-circle, coffee table pushed back. The children are at their Nanny's, Ziggy having ordered her to call her to take them away for the night.

"But the rhyme -" 

Deena shakes her head and takes a seat beside her, "the rhyme is a lie." She looks between her sister and the other two, she goes to speak again, but she is cut off, "made by Solomon Goode." She places her hands on top of (Y/n's) and laughs, "an agreement with the devil passed down generation to generation."

(Y/n) shakes her head.

Then she remembers.

"He arrived so quickly to kill the - Ryan Torres." Josh nods, placing his hand in his pockets, and he rolls back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Sunnyville has no crime; I always thought it was the witch- but why?"

"He wants Sunnyville to have no crime, accidents, or anything," (Y/n) nods, "so he kills Shadysiders." 

She stops nodding and stands, shaking her head as she smooths down the ends of her button-up, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. 

"He sacrifices them," (Y/n) turns around to face the now standing Deena, "but Cindy."

"Collateral damage."

(Y/n) clenches her fists, her gaze hardening at her coffee cup as she shakes her head. "But I am a Shadysider... my children..."

Deena frowns, "I'm sorry, but it is the truth."

"Tell me everything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) watches the trees whiz past them, and then the signs; as they near the mall. 

It all makes sense but is it true?

For years she and Nick have been together, happy, married, and had children. Now, she understands she was his second choice. Now, she understands that he killed her sister. Now, she understands he is a risk to her babies.

Fuck him.

She should be ashamed of what she is about to do, this plan.

Murder her husband.

She is sad, but she is not ashamed.

Sheriff Good her ass. 

How can she love a monster?

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're a monster."

Nick's eyes pull away from Ziggy as his wife stands out from behind the tree. His eyes widen, his jaw-dropping slightly. 

She smirks, stepping down to take her sister's place in front of him. The plan is in motion, going so well as he slowly falls further into their trap. Ziggy steps to the side, allowing her sister to take her place, right next to the rope. 

Her smirk slowly transforms into a smile as she watches him take her outfit in, one of his favorites, a flattering, red dress - in fact, he bought it for her as an anniversary gift.

"Honey?"

She shakes her head, her hand going to the rope, "it's (Y/n)," and she pulls it.

Ziggy grabs her hand and (Y/n) gives thanks to the heavens that this dress is flowy above her knees otherwise she would not be able to run. 

She can't help the heart-wrenching feeling she has as she hears her friends pull their ropes, releasing the monsters.

Then it happens.

Her husband wraps one arm around her neck, the other around her waist as he pulls her back. Ziggy gasps and runs forward, stopping once he raises his arm and points his gun at her. "DEENA! GET THEM AWAY FROM ME!" (Y/n) screams, continuing to thrash about as her eyes gloss over with tears. "IF I DIE, SHE DIES!" His arm darts between each of the serial killers as he ignores the fact that this is his wife.

"What happened to our vows, sweetie?" He whispers into her ear, making her gag. She begins to scream louder, making her throat burn slightly. "GO AWAY!" Her screams get louder and louder as she tries to step on his feet as hard as she can, but he does not flinch. "GET BACK!"

"You murdered my sister." She whispers, and for a second, his arm holding his gun wavers. "You'd probably kill our children too, just like the children you have today."

He inhale sharply, his arm around her neck tightening, "how dare you- I would never harm our own -"

His arm loosens, and she falls forward, her sister catching her, as Nick falls to the ground, Skullmask stabbing him in the back.

"Karma's a bitch Nicky!" (Y/n) shouts triumphantly as two begin to run, gripping each other's hand.

Then it happens again.

(Y/n) is grabbed.

"Your blood, it's on her!" Josh shouts as the crazy possessed body pulls her to him by her neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

[trufflezitas]

ᝐ ♥︎' ﹏﹏ 𝕂υⲅɬ ꪻ᳢ᥱᨡⲅ ꢺɬⲅᥱᥱɬ ꩝᭫ɕꭷꦥ᥍ ⟧ ▓⃞⃯🔥 𖠣

𖽡⋆ꊞꐙ✿𖽐🏦𖥵 ꦕᦸᩥꭐ 𝗽ᦅᩨ𝘀𝗧ꔱ𔓯︒𖽡⭑ꫧ𖠣 𖣠ꔡ⸍ ... ꖿ𝘇𝗭𝘇ꜝᩣ ##🐞あほぜねぬ 𝗹Ꭵ𝗸℮ ᦅᩚ𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹ᩆ𝗴 በ🪰 ꒰めほみ꒱ ҂✩ 𝗰𝗿ᦸᩚ𝗱!𝘁𝘀 𝟒ꦭ𝗲ᩨꃋ 🍞

[love-toxin]

shadysider sunshine

a/n: basically i rewatched the fear street trilogy and i could not resist writing this fic...

warnings: tommy slater x reader, camp counselor! reader, sunnyvaler! reader, pet names, "oh no there's only one shower" trope, kind of enemies to lovers but not really, shower sex, teasing, semi-public sex, bruising/hickies, unprotected sex, reader has an attitude, afab reader.

word count: 4k

"Dude, what are you doing here at this time of night?" 

You want to be mad about it, but even the lilt of your voice betrays your own entertainment with the situation. The last person you would expect to find skulking around your cabin late at night is the same person you've locked eyes with, the younger campers that were once his comrades having shrieked and fled the scene upon being caught in the beam of your flashlight. After having your shower and traipsing all the way back towards your cabin, hair still wet and your legs cold from the cool air against your damp skin, you just wanted to relax--but it never seems to work out that way at Camp Nightwing. 

Honestly, you're not even sure what to expect. It's not uncommon for the opposing teams, Shadyside and Sunnyvale, to play pranks on each other, but for the most part any counselor participation would be prohibited--especially when it's everyone's favourite heartthrob, Tommy Slater. 

"You gonna egg my cabin, Shadysider? Cause if you are, you're gonna have to be a little sneakier than that." 

His eyes widen and he looks around as if he hasn't already been caught red-handed, locks of light hair swinging about his face each time he turns his head. A quick glance down and he's got nothing in his hands, but that doesn't mean anything. As much as you hate to put the stereotype on people, especially kids, Shadysiders have a knack for getting into trouble with minimal effort. 

"N-No! Uh, we weren't...I wasn't…"

Has he really not noticed that he's been left afloat? He takes a further look around and seems surprised at the fact that his little campers are all gone, no doubt having sprinted back to their cabins to keep from getting caught doing...whatever they were planning to do. 

"Listen,"

He snaps to attention when you speak up again, in the midst of pulling your robe tighter around yourself. Even a blind man could see where his eyes fall when you do so, and as much as you don't want to encourage him, you just have to scoff and let a smirk work its way across your lips. How cute, trying to pretend he doesn't notice your current state of dress. 

"I really don't give a shit, I just want to go to bed. Congrats on the colour war, Mr. Slater, and try to keep your campers out of my cabin." 

You flick the flashlight off and pitch you both into relative darkness, with the moon being the only thing half-illuminating each of your faces. Honestly, you've spent the last hour or two comforting the disappointed Sunnyvale campers after their first loss, and Kurt's anguished cries of unfair play are still ringing in your ears. If nothing else, you just want one more good night of sleep before there's even more to contend with tomorrow. 

"You can call me Tommy, y'know."

It hurts how naïve he sounds. He really is such a goody two shoes, but you can't even really get on his case for it. It's just the way it is, and you'll be the first to admit that there's certainly much worse ways to be. 

"I know your name. I'm just messing with you, honey." 

A soft "Oh," leaves his lips, and….God, he's hopeless. Who wouldn't know his name, his face, or that innocent look that makes you feel like you're staring into the eyes of a lost puppy? Many of your fellow Sunnyvalers like to mock you for extending an olive branch to the poor, misfit Shadysiders, but they really aren't that bad. Well, at least some of them aren't. 

But jeez, you've never seen him so meek before. Tommy shifts his weight from foot to foot, and as far as you can tell in the dim light he looks like he's got something else to say. But he just can't seem to spit it out, and with a sigh at the tease of something interesting happening, you turn and flick your hair aside as you start taking steps back towards your cabin door. And just as you're in the midst of bidding your fellow counselor good night, with one hand set on your doorknob, you hear a shout of "Wait!" from just behind you and a force at your back that shoves you forward. Within seconds you're on the floorboards in the entryway of your cabin, flashlight rolled out of reach and dazed from the sudden push--and with a creak and a splattering sound you feel something splash all over the back of your legs, and you turn yourself around to see the carnage that lay between them. 

There, with half his body in the doorway and the other half on the stairs where he's come crashing down, is Tommy--covered from head to ass in blue paint. The bucket is already in the process of rolling down said stairs, surely having been propped on top of your door to stain whoever was unlucky enough to open it, and despite being so bold as to shove you out of the way, he grimaces at the fury that's written clear as day on your face. You want to curse him out so fucking badly, want to kick his stupid pretty face in for letting those shit kids of his do this, but you're so annoyed already that the anger almost cancels itself out as you take a deep breath in. Almost. 

"You're a dickhead." 

Only then does he scramble to get up, stepping back to avoid getting more paint on your floor only to slip and fall backwards on to his ass. And despite being ever so courageous to save you from such a stupid prank, you groan as you look down and find splatters of blue paint all over not just your legs, but your robe and your hands too. And he's absolutely doused in it, hair soaked through and his clothes totally marred by the thick paint, little bastards must have mixed it with something else to make it stick. At the moment it's not even worth it to try mopping it off your floor and the stairs, you just get to your feet and slam the door behind you, punting the bucket all the way into the bushes as you stomp past Tommy and head right back towards the showers. Again.

"W-Wait-! I'm sorry, I really-"

"I don't wanna hear it, Shadysider!"

What you also don't want to hear is his footsteps hurrying towards you, and yet he's caught up in less than a minute and matches your pace as you head towards the building just across the field. If not for the snatches of lamplight catching your faces as you walk, you wouldn't have taken notice to the panic in his eyes that softens the anger a little bit….but not enough to make you stop. 

"It wasn't meant for you, they thought it was Kurt's cabin, and I really thought it was! But it was dark, and I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, and….I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." 

You want to be mad. You seriously, desperately want to be mad enough that it none of it matters, that him hurrying to stand in your way and apologize makes no difference to you, and that the gentle grip he gets on your forearms to keep you focused on him doesn't make your heart flutter. Being touched by some guy, and a Shadyside one at that, shouldn't make you so weak, but it really does. The silence hangs heavy between you, nothing but the crickets and the sound of a warm breeze passing through the trees and rustling the leaves to pepper the quiet air. 

"...Fine. It's fine. Now, can we just go wash this shit off?"

The paint dripping down his face can't hide the relief that passes over it, yet when he has the mind to let you go, a soft "Oops," falls from his mouth as you both glance down to see the palm prints he's left on you. It breaks the tension in a way, though, as you roll your eyes and pull him along as he chuckles, another apology coming out as the two of you approach the steps to the shower block and slip inside. 

Lucky for you, for once, it's completely empty. The stalls sit open and the tiles dry, although it is pretty late at night and nearly all the campers should be asleep. But when you reach for the nearest one in a row of four to turn it on, your face falls and you groan for what feels like the hundredth time today. 

"Of course. It's past midnight. Only one of them is on."

Whatever kind of water-preservation bullshit they wanna keep going with just exists to piss you off, evidently--Tommy kicks his shoes off and follows close behind as you test each one, before finally reaching the double-wide stall where the handle squeaks and out comes a hail of fresh, warm water. 

"C'mon, I wanna get this over with. If we stand around it's gonna be harder to get off." 

His first instinct upon you loosening the sash of your robe is to turn his head away, a hand coming up to block his vision even though you've already caught the red tinge rising to his cheeks, and the giddy smile that he can't quite wipe off his face. 

"You sure?"

He says so with his eyes still averted, but the desire to sneak a peek is so strong you can feel it even just standing next to him. To you it's whatever, but it's obvious that this is his first time doing something like this--and as much as you want to laugh, you dim it to a smirk as you shrug your robe off your shoulders and toss it on the towel bench to your right. 

"We'll just turn around. It's no big deal...what, you afraid?" 

Stretching a hand out, you test the water to check the temperature, only distantly aware of the click of Tommy's belt behind you as he starts to undress. For some reason the sound stirs something within you, and you can't help biting your lip as you try to stifle the urge to turn around and look. 

"As long as you don't mind sharing the water with a Shadysider." 

Ooh, you can just feel the smirk on his pretty face as he teases you, finally seeming to come out of his shell the more he bares himself to you. He doesn't bother hanging up his sleeveless tank and his tight jeans, just tosses them in a heap on the bench for them to dry. They're probably ruined anyways, you can feel how thick the paint is as it dries on your skin, and you can only imagine how tough it's going to be to get it out of his hair. You try your best not to think of how he's gonna need help to do so, but you fail, just as expected. 

"Just get in, dummy." 

You can't help your smile either, and once the steam starts rising from the cold tiles, you finally step underneath the shower head and sigh at the feeling, the water like a warm blanket covering your body entirely and wrapping you in comfort you can't get anywhere else. At least, until Tommy's warmth shuffles closer and he sidles up behind you, his body so close that you swear you can hear his heartbeat from here. And if you really can, then it's thudding like the keys of a typewriter, so fast you pray he doesn't have a heart attack where he stands. But to say you aren't starting to feel the same would be a lie, a huge one. 

With your backs turned, you let him lean back against you as he lifts his arms, no doubt scrubbing the semi-dried paint from his scalp and squeezing it out of his straight locks. And you can feel his muscles tense against you as he works away, so toned and firm but with soft skin stretched taut over each one. When you raise your leg and steady it against the wall to try to rub the stuff off, you can feel him pause just as you did, but this time it's because you've leaned over enough to press your ass into his. He'll get himself into trouble being so innocent like that, but you keep your mouth shut for his sake and scrub until all that remains against your skin has a light hue of blue, which you suppose you'll just have to wait awhile for it to completely go away. At least it's not as bad as your hero, who you can tell is struggling by the way he grunts and mutters a "Damn," under his breath as you're finishing up your other leg. 

"Need a hand?" 

He huffs a sigh, and turns his head to look over his shoulder at you--the streaks of blue running down between his eyes should be enough of a tell, and trying not to be too conspicuous about it, you shift yourselves so you're face to face, and eye to eye. It's like a silent competition, the eye contact intense but the threat of embarrassment for whoever looks down first even more so, but that's swiftly remedied by Tommy getting up closer so you're chest-to-chest. Which, of course, means your tits are now pressed up against him, but the goofy grin on his lips is too cute for you to be mad. 

"Don't get excited, Shadysider. I'll be able to tell." 

"Will you now?" 

There's that cheeky tone, as if all his shyness has evaporated with the steam rising up all around you. You try to smother the heat that stirs in your belly because of it by reaching up and ruffling his hair with both hands, flicking little blue-tinted specks of water all over both of you and each of the walls. Once you've had your little giggle session together you feel the stress ebb away, and it grows more comfortable as you wash the paint away and watch it stream down his body with the running water, highlighting all those features that make the girls go crazy and the other guys jealous. Before long he's nearly back to normal, his hair as clean as you can get without shampoo and his body washed clear of any blue residue, and you're almost disappointed that you're done when the water starts running clear.

Or, maybe not, based on the growing stiffness against your thigh that's beckoning for your attention. Your gaze drops and finds his once again, his grin having shifted to teasing laughter as he realizes it too. 

"Sorry, can't help it. You're just too pretty, sunshine." 

Stupid, stupid, stupid heart, pounding so hard in your chest you can't even think straight. And him sliding his arms around you to hold you tight to his chest isn't helping, at least the pattering of water against your bodies might mask how stuttered your breathing has become, even though nothing can hide how both of you keep stealing glances at each other's lips. 

"Can I kiss you?" 

At this point, he doesn't even need to ask. Shadyside, Sunnyvale, who gives a fuck--you can't say no to that sweet face, so innocent on one hand yet with such intensity and lasciviousness in his eyes. You're the one who closes the distance between you, your breath stolen away by how unexpectedly soft his lips are. He's warm, unsurprisingly, and somehow you can feel gooseflesh on the back of your neck that prickles the hairs there, and sends a shiver racing down your spine that has you arching your back into his embrace. 

And everything moves much faster after that. Tommy takes a step forwards and then another, and before you know it he's backed you up against the wall, hiking your leg up around his waist so there's nothing stopping you from each other. He makes his hands useful by feeling you up from the hips to your chest, and when he's got every inch committed to memory and you've hooked your other leg over his waist, he shifts you up once more so you won't fall and loops his arms under you to press his palms against the shower wall. And with nowhere better to put yours, you wrap them around his neck and lean into another kiss on the way, maybe just to make sure your moans are swallowed into his mouth when he finally starts to enter you. 

For a supposed virgin boy, he really does make your head go blank and your limbs melt into jelly as he feeds every inch of himself inside you. And with nowhere to rest your feet to take the pressure off, you push your tongue past his lips and let his have free admission, just to try and stifle those noises that might just turn into screams of pleasure if you can't stop them. He's so thick you can barely wrap your mind around it, and your body can barely fit it--but he waits for you to start gushing like there's no other option, his playful chuckle like a mumble from his mouth to yours as he starts thrusting. Your defense mechanism certainly isn't lasting, however, since he breaks the kiss just to press his forehead to yours and gasp for air as the shower's rain pours down his back. 

"What's my name, sunshine?" 

The answer's ripped from your throat by a particularly hard buck, his cock so stiff that when it hits you as deep as it can go, all the air you can manage is sucked into your lungs and blown out in a moan so loud it rings in the empty shower block. 

"Tommy! Tommy, Tommy!" 

He nudges your face aside to bury his own into your neck, tonguing your sensitive skin before he scrapes his teeth along it and jolts when you clench around him as a result. And when you finally start to relax into the rhythm and grind your hips down to meet his, he steals your breath away again by sucking down hard, and leaving what you know will be a damn sore bruise behind that you'll have to scramble to hide tomorrow. That is, if you can even get out of bed, because at the moment you can't even feel your legs even as they're shaking and trembling as they hang over his hips, your pussy stretched to fit him and filled so deep you feel like a virgin born anew. And with each rock of his hips you can feel that end coming closer, like you're hurtling towards it with no way to fend it off so you can enjoy it a while longer. When it finally comes with one good, hard thrust that has his wiry little hairs rubbing up against your clit, the blinding heat that bursts inside you spreads to every limb of your body and leaves nothing but shivers behind. It feels like your veins are copper wire blazed through with an electric shock, and burned behind them to leave nothing but an empty warmth. And if Tommy wasn't still buried inside you, you would say it was quite empty indeed--but then he's scrambling to lift you off his cock, and when he's leaned you back against the wall on unsteady feet, he coaxes himself to his own end with his hand all over your stomach. It's mesmerizing to watch him, face twisted in pleasure as he milks himself dry like he's marking you, and once he's collapsed into your tired body with his chest heaving, you wonder if this isn't the first time he's cum to the idea of you. 

For a while after that, it's quiet, save for the two of you breathing as you wait for it to go back to normal. After a few minutes of just holding you, he takes a step or two backwards and pulls you with him, standing you under the shower head so he can move you around and rinse you off like you did for him. Not just your belly covered in his cum, but the sweat and spit from your little romp too--he even spreads your legs apart and slips a finger inside you, making sure to lean away from the water spraying over you when he pulls it out, so he can slide it into his mouth and suck it clean with a goofy grin on his face. 

"So,"

He breathes, the air warm against your damp skin as he reaches around you to shut the water off. 

"You like the Shadysider experience?"

You press both palms to his chest to lean away as he laughs, diving in to pepper kisses to your face and your neck as you roll your eyes and kiss his forehead at the first chance. 

"You're such a dork." 

You can't even pretend to have any venom behind that. He's too earnest as he leans over to grab your robe, and only then seems to realize your newest predicament. His clothes are still covered in paint, and with how crusted and dry they are now, you doubt he would even be able to wrestle them apart from each other without ripping them. Unless he wants to streak across camp, you'll have to find another option. 

"Here,"

Instead of letting him hand it over, you push the robe back into his hands, much to his surprise. 

"Go back to my cabin, and grab me some clothes. I'll wait here." 

The realization seems to cross his face, and as swiftly as he can manage with something definitely not his size, he ties it loosely and takes your face into those big, gentle hands. 

"Be back soon, sunshine."  

To be pulled into a kiss like this, brief but sweet and with a twinge of passion, you can't equate it to anything else. You watch as Tommy slips on his shoes, hurries out the door and heads towards your cabin, no doubt doing so in a rush so that you don't get chilly waiting for him in the airy building.

And as you stand there, bracing yourself against the cool breeze that parts the sticky summer heat, you wonder when you fell in love. Maybe it's not really love, but it could certainly turn into that soon, if things keep up as they are. You just can't wipe the smile from your face as you wait for him, eager to see his toothy grin as he rushes back to see you again, and it's a feeling unlike anything you've experienced so far. Your time has been short but the years have felt long, constantly filled with your Sunnyvale brethren not only mocking the Shadysiders to hell and back, but hounding you for pitying them and showing them some modicum of kindness. 

At least, if nothing else, you can say that it's paid off. This moment is the happiest you've been in a long time, so much so that a tune makes its way to your lips and your humming echoes off the shower walls. Your mind wanders so contentedly that you don't even hear the creak of the door opening and closing, and only notice the presence when the sound of footsteps thudding towards you grabs your attention. They're quick at first but they slow as they get to you, and though a shiver runs through your body from nowhere, a soft whisper falls from your lips as a shadow casts itself across the floor in front of you.

"Tommy?"

[no-one-fuck-a-man]

Berry Blues

Season Two

Part Fourteen - (Blame it on the Alcohol) The First Time

Quinn Fabray x Reader

Summary: With Alcohol Awareness Week came the exact opposite of what your school wanted for the pupils within. A party where every underage member would be getting drunk out of their minds, which only lead to the domino effect that was the Alcohol Awareness Assembly.

Word Count: 11,525

WARNINGS: Threats, underage drinking, Rachel “The Cockblock” Berry, descriptions of hangover(s), one night stand, biphobia, slight angst, Kurt being a dick, talks of sex, vomiting, jealous Quinn, fluff, talks of alcoholism, flirting

(A/N): Right, so it’s finally here! Sorry for the delay, palls. What with the holiday season, getting sick, getting busy, getting sicker, I’ve been having a tough time keeping up with everything. That being said, I’m afraid I will have to push the other two parts back until an undetermined time. Just until like gets back on track for me.

-----

It was nearing the end of the day, and you were forced into the dimly lit choir room by your sister, awaiting her special guest so that she could perform her originally-written song. Because she just couldn't let that idea go, not that you're surprised.

"What's up, my hot little Jewish-American princess? And Y/N."

"Always a pleasure, Puckerman," you said, watching as the boy moved to take the seat beside your sister at the piano. While you leaned against the large instrument.

"What do you want, Puckerman?"

"Word on the street is that your dads are out of town. And you're all alone in your house."

"I swear to Lucifer, if you're trying to get in her pants right now, you'll be going through the windows of Mr Schue's office," you seethed, fire behind your eyes as you glared at the boy. Watching as he shot his hands up in surrender, fear filling his own eyes at your threat.

"They are on the Rosie O'Donnell cruise," Rachel stated, "Wait, who told you that?"

"Sure as hell weren't me."

"It's the kind of information a guy like me tends to know. So, uh... party this Saturday? I'll bring the beer ball. It's a mini-keg."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"What? I can't get a full-sized one."

"That's not what I was talking about."

"Yeah, forget it, Puck," Rachel added.

"Come on, just the Glee kids," the delinquent said, getting up from the bench to stand opposite you on the piano, "We're losing our minds. All stressed about Sectionals and stuff."

"Regionals," your sister corrected, "Besides, you just want a place to have sex and get drunk." She couldn't help but cringe at that.

"Yeah. There's a word for that, a party."

"No- No. No, our dads they left us alone in the house because they trusted us to be responsible."

"They left you alone because you suck and are a total bore."

"Watch it, Puckerman," you warned.

"-And Y/N doesn't like parties." You glared at him as he left, just as Finn entered the room, greeting each other in passing.

"How's the songwriting going?"

"Hey. It's going amazing." Rachel rushed to get up, gushing to her ex-boyfriend, as you mouthed over her shoulder, 'help me', in reference to her song. "Which is why I wanted you to come by. I wanted you to hear it."

'Run', you mouthed over to him, once again. Before your attention was pulled to Brad sitting at the piano, out of the corner of your eye. "Do you just like hang around here, waiting for people to start singing."

The man shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Oh, yeah, cool," Finn finally said, not heeding your prior warning.

"Come here."

You watched as the two shared a hug, with an uncomfortable cringe on your face.

"Oh, that's awkward," you mumbled to yourself, Brad catching it and nodding in agreement.

"What was that for?"

"To break the tension. We- We were boyfriend and girlfriend, Finn. It's silly for us to pretend like we aren't comfortable around each other."

"I'm uncomfortable right now."

"Yeah, totally."

"And I know that we have some unresolved feelings, but, like my two new role models, Carol King and Gerry Goffin, I think it's important that we just put them aside and stay focused on our mission which is just to write an amazing song to win Regionals with."

"Which I still think is a bad idea," you gave your input.

"Well, I have no idea who those people are."

"You and me both, brother."

Finn shot you a dopey smile over Rachel's head before turning back to her. "But, uh, I'm on board. Let's hear it."

"It's just a little rough," she warned the boy.

'It's a lot rough'

"But, uh... I think it's really special."

Doing what you had grown used to the past week, you dazed off blankly, allowing your sister's song to wash over you and far, far away.

However, Finn soon came to your rescue.

"Uh, hold- Hold on."

"Oh, thank God," you breathed.

"Is this song about your headband?"

"Yes," Rachel stated, "It's called 'My Headband'."

"Right."

"I told you to run," you leaned forward to whisper to the tall boy.

"They say you should write what you know."

"That's a bullshit saying anyway." You shrugged. "How do you explain 'Dracula'? You think Bram Stoker was a flippin' vampire?"

"Well, anyway, it uh, it's really..." Finn searched his brain for the right descriptor. "Interesting. But it's not emotional of, like, good."

"It sucks."

"Yeah."

"I could have told you that. No. In fact, I did tell you that," you said with your arms folded across your chest. Turning to your friend, you continued, "There were worse first drafts if you could believe it."

"Y/N!" your sister yelped, scolding you for embarrassing her in front of her ex-boyfriend, who she was still hung up on, no matter her denial. With a sigh, she wondered, "How am I supposed to write a song like Jodi Mitchell of Carole King? They've lived."

"Well, maybe if you want to be an artist like them, you should do a little living," the boy offered with a shrug, standing to his full height.

"You're so right. I mean, even now, it's Alcohol Awareness Week, and we're supposed to sing about the dangers of drinking, and I've never even had a drink."

"Wait, seriously?" Finn smiled, "That's why I never got past second base."

Swiftly, you smacked him around the head, hard enough for him to wince and rub at the offending area, while muttering an apology to you. While Rachel rounded him, heading to one of the room's many exits.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To find Puckerman."

Your eyes widened at that, putting two and two together.

"Oh, God, please no."

"-You know, my journey from little princess to "natural woman" begins this Saturday night. At my house."

"I don't think you understand how sexual that sounded!"

---

That Saturday night, you were in your room getting dressed, having just finished an extra shift at your work, when the door sounded with three knocks.

"Y/N!"

"I got it!" you yelled back, agitated by your sistered shout, rushing down the stairs to open the door, "Hey, guys," you greeted Finn, Kurt, and Blane, leading them through your home to the entrance of your basement, where your sister was waiting. Right by that painting of her, that haunted your nightmares.

"Welcome. Kurt. Blane."

"Do you have one of those?" Blane questioned, pointing to the oil painting.

"Nope. My parents keep booking for me to have it done, but I keep finding excuses for them to push it back. I told them that if I don't get a sword and a horse in it, I'm not having it done."

The boys laughed at your ways around not having an oil painting of your own, while Rachel stated, "Wasn't expecting you guys."

Finn was the one to explain, "Kurt's been blackmailing me ever since he saw my browser history. He kind of insisted on me coming."

"Dude, what type of weird porn are you watching?" you joked, bringing up the rear of the last of the partygoers.

"I'm totally off the clock right now, Rachel," Blane explained, taking off his scarf and coat, "I'm not a Warbler. I'm just Blane. I'm not even wearing my uniform."

"I'd be worried if you were, considering it's Saturday."

Blane pointed your way. "Exactly."

"So, this is your dads' Oscar room," Kurt said.

"Yes. They transformed our ordinary basement for our famous annual Oscar parties."

"Is that a stage?" Blane asked, pointing to the thing Mercedes and Lauren were sitting on, with Quinn hanging close by.

"I like to give impromptu performances for our neighbours sometimes."

The smile you pulled was both fake and painful looking as you turned to Blane to inform him, "I'm adopted."

"Yeah, that kinda makes sense."

Your sister gasped happily behind you, making you peer over your shoulder, only to see her talking to Quinn. "Hey, girlfriend. Having fun?"

"Yeah, " Quinn said, as Santana and Sam made out on a chair behind her, "Awesome party."

"You don't gotta lie to her like that," you said when the blonde walked by you, leaning her arms against the bar, trying to ignore her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend behind her.

"O-okay. Let's, uh... let's go over the rules."

"Rules?" you asked sceptically, wondering what the hell you had missed while you were both at work and getting changed out of your dirt-covered clothes.

"Everybody gets two drink tickets to keep things from getting out of hand," she explained, handing the boys their hot pink tickets.

"Drink tickets. Really, Rach? What is this, a wedding?"

"We don't want things to get out of hand."

"Aha." You folded your arms across your chest, waiting for her to continue.

"We are serving wine coolers today. That is our speciality drink. It's actually all we have..." Rachel didn't notice the boys walking from her presence, nor you shaking your head at them at your sister's antics.

"See, this is why I should have been involved in the prep. But no!" You shot your hands into the air. "She said she could handle it herself."

"Brittany! Remember the rules. No sitting on anything."

Looking over, you spotted the girl sitting upon your family's dryer, looking utterly bored.

"Oh, leave her alone." You waved the blonded actions off, turning to your sister, gesturing to said machine, "I've fucked-" You grew quiet then, everyone's attention on you now, including your sister's. Who seemed angry and ready to snitch and tell your fathers if need be. "You know what, maybe you're right. Actually. Nobody should sit on anything." You waved around the room. "Including the furniture... especially the bar," you finished, pointing over your shoulder at the surface, making Quinn remove herself from it with an almost mortified, angered look.

"You're a slut," Santana called over to you with a knowing smile.

"Oh, you bet I am," you smiled happily. Not wanting it any other way.

"O-okay," Rachel spoke, moving on from your words, with a light shake of her head, raising her pink wine cooler into the air, "Okay, everybody. Cheers!"

"Great party, Rachel," Artie lied to the girl, fake praise dropping as he continued, "We gotta run."

"Take me with you."

"Yeah, dinner reservations," Tina tried to excuse to the disappointed girl.

Stuttering over her words, she tried to convince them to stay, "But we haven't even played celebrity yet."

"You know, you may have been named after Rachel, but you sure are a Monica."

"W-why's everybody leaving?" your sister whispered over to Finn, still loud enough for others to hear.

Taking it upon himself to answer, about ready to leave himself, puck replied, "Because this party blows."

"But- But..." Rachel looked your way. Disheartened and just wanting some support, hoping that you would jump to her defence.

But her hope was for nought.

"Oh, don't look at me." You shook your head, pointing over to the group getting ready to leave... and Puckerman. "I agree with them."

"I haven't even had my first sip yet. How am I supposed to write "Both Sides Now" if I can't even throw a party?" she questioned to no one in particular. Turning from everyone at the front of the basement, tension rolled off her shoulders as she paused momentarily before spinning back to Finn and Puck.

"Look, if you want everyone to stay, you have to let me break into your dads' liquor cabinet. No one's gonna get buzzed off two wine coolers."

"You know how much the stuff in there is worth, Puck?"

"I'll replace it before they get home."

Rolling your eyes at the mohican boy, you countered his argument, "You couldn't even bring that mini-keg of yours. How are you gonna replace that stuff?"

Rachel contemplated his suggestion for a few moments before looking to you almost for your permission- Or input, you weren't sure.

Giving a shrug, you raised your hands, not wanting anything to do with it. She said she could throw a party herself, so that's exactly what she was going to do.

"This is your choice. And you will be the one taking the blame if anything happens or doesn't happen." You finished by looking pointedly over to Puckerman, who just rolled his eyes at your -valid- distrust towards him.

Processing your words, and after receiving a soft nod from Finn, Rachel raised her drink high once more, voice wavering out of nervousness, "Let's party!"

Those were the magic words.

However, it seemed that they weren't enough.

Growing impatient, you strode over to where Finn, Puck and Mike were gathered around your father's liquor cabinet, muttering between themselves.

"What's takin' so long? We're gonna end up finishing the wine coolers before we get any good booze."

Agitated, Puck looked at you over his shoulder, gesturing to the lock with the bobby pin between his fingers. "The lock's really hard to break, okay?"

You hummed, nodding to the boy as he turned back to his task at hand.

"I don't know," you stated, reaching over for the lamp, sitting beside the many martini glasses, lifting it, and scooping up the thing underneath, "Maybe it would be easier to use the key."

Puckerman couldn't believe what you were holding directly in front of his face.

A twinkling, silver key.

"You let me try to pick this lock for five minutes when you knew where the key was?" he asked, backing away, allowing you to open the cabinet.

"Hey, I tried. But you said that you've broken into liquor cabinets hundreds of times before. Or were you just compensating for something, huh?" You backhanded his crotch, making him groan, while you turned to walk back to the bar, vodka bottle in hand.

"How did you know where the key was?" Mike smiled, jogging up beside you, as Finn made sure Puck was okay.

You shrugged. "I live here. Also, I've been breaking into it since I was fourteen." You pointed his way. "Don't tell Rachel. She's a total nark. Especially when it comes to this stuff."

"She'll hear nothing from me."

"Okay, who wants real alcohol?!" you called, raising the bottle high into the air, gaining cheers in return.

A few hours and a mass amount of red cups later, almost everyone was drunk. Some more than others. But still drunk.

The music was loud, and people were dancing.

You were one of them.

Standing upon the dark wood of your coffee table, dancing haphazardly beside Mike.

You knew you were drunk. You just didn't think you were as drunk as you actually are. Which was proven thanks to when you stumbled from the table and onto the plush rug underneath. Almost colliding with Quinn, who was massing with a table beside Zizes.

"Woah, sorry." Looking at the blonde's face, you spotted the new addition sitting on her face. Lauren's oversized glasses. Which, you couldn't lie, looked good on her. And thanks to the alcohol flowing through your system, she knew too, "Hey, you suit glasses. Like you look really hot with them." Curse your drink-induced tongue.

"You're not too bad on the eyes, either," she flirted back, holding the plastic cup up by her face, the liquid within giving her the courage to do so, even in front of others.

"When you're wearing glasses that you probably don't need, I don't think that's a compliment."

Swiftly, the blonde pulled the glasses from her face Puckerman, quick to pluck them from her fingers and wear them himself as he danced around you and the girl on his way to his current crush.

"Yeah," she uttered, looking you up and down, "Definitely not bad on the eyes."

Before you could flirt back, chanting filled the basement.

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Peering over, you found your sister downing one of the many leftover wine coolers. Only to cheer and throw your arms into the air when she finished the drink.

After burping into the pink rhinestone-encrusted microphone, she yelled, "It tastes like pink. It tastes like pink! Pink!"

With a laugh at your sister's drunken state, you turned back, expecting to find the blonde still there after cheering Rachel on with you, but was sorely mistaken. Only to be met with an empty space where she once was. Checking over your shoulder, you found her almost swaying as she headed towards the orange sofa, or maybe she was just moving along to the music, like many of your other friends. It seems Quinn grew easily distracted in her alcohol-induced state.

Shrugging to yourself, you moved to dance with Mike to the music playing once more, busting out laughing with every silly move you made. But not long later, you found yourselves heading towards Mercedes and Tina, wanting to know what they were cracking up at on the other side of the room.

Little did you know, at the stage, your sister was getting a lesson on drunk archetypes.

Now, that's something they don't teach in schools.

"Guys and girls fall into certain archetypes when they get drunk," Finn explained to the drunk girl hanging all over him, waving his hands about as he spoke. Soon gesturing over to his first point. "Exhibit 'A': Santana. The "weepy, hysterical" drunk."

His description of the girl was accurate, to say the least. Because, at that moment, she was pointing and yelling at her blonde boyfriend, mascara pooled below her eyes as she cried.

"You like her more than me! She's blonde and awesome and so smart," she listed, obviously describing Sam's ex-girlfriend, who he was still hung up on after she broke his heart. If you were close by, you would have undoubtedly said something to point out how gay that sounded and like she was fawning over her ex-cheer captain. But alas, you weren't, so the girl was free to continue her weepy anguish. "Admit it. Just admit it." All the while, her boyfriend looked like he wanted to be anywhere but dealing with her in that state, looking around for help, which panicked the girl, quickly pulling him into her embrace, "No. Kiss me."

Moving onto his next "exhibit", Finn continued, "Lauren Zizes and Quinn, the "Anger girl" drunks."

At the other side of the room, in front of that same orange couch, stood three people. The two aforementioned girls and Puckerman.

Quinn and Lauren rounded him like he was wounded prey, and they were the predators in a wildlife documentary.

It was the blonde who had her outburst first.

"I can't believe what you did to my body. I used to have abs!"

Just like with Santana, if you were near enough and not distracted by your own little group of friends, you would undoubtedly be there, ready to give her as many compliments and kind words she needed to make her smile once more.

As she walked away, Zizes took that as her turn to ridicule the boy in her drunken state.

"Who told you that hairstyle was cool, Geronimo?"

"Chill out!" Puckerman tried to defend himself.

"Brittany," Finn continued to list, "Also known as the "girl who turns into a stripper" drunk."

No longer sitting upon the dryer, Brittany stood dancing for her boyfriend in nothing but her shorts, bra, and thigh-high boots. Swinging her shirt around.

The boy, who had obviously been digging through your sister's box of props and stage clothes, looked ridiculous as he threw dollar bills at the girl.

"Making it rain! Whoo! That's my girlfriend. I love you, baby."

"Mercedes and Tina, the "happy girl" drunks."

Upon the brown patterned sofa, before Mike and yourself, sat the two girls laughing hysterically at something the boy said. Tina repeatedly slapped Mercedes' thigh as the girl cackled.

"Bonus," Finn added, "Y/N, the "turns into a comedian" drunk,"

Harshly swallowing around the gulp of alcohol in your mouth, you continued your joke for the awaiting girls. With Mike's hand upon your shoulder, waiting intently for the punchline.

"And then- Then he turned to me and said, "what's between your legs?" I told him, "your mom's head"!"

"And then we come around full circle, right back to you. Rachel. And right now, you're being the "needy girl" drunk," he told the shorter Berry, whose cheek was pressed against his shoulder, basking in the presence of her ex-boyfriend, "Hanging all over me, being overly lovey. It's not cool."

Removing herself from his body, Rachel drunkenly pat his shoulder, moving closer to his face, "blessing" him with her strong alcohol breath, to ask, "Well, what kind of girl is that?" With the contents of her red cup dripping down her chin and her arms spread wide, she shouted to her friends filling the basement, gaining cheers from them, "Let's spin the bottle. Who wants to play spin the bottle? Spin the bottle."

It was an easy decision for you to opt-out of the game. Instead, while everyone gathered around in a haphazard circle, you sat in the chair behind your sister. The other two not joining in on the kissing game being Santana and Quinn.

The blonde sat not too far away from you, and the Latina hung out at the bar with a drink in hand.

Everyone spectated as Brittany spun the empty wine cooler bottle, only for it to land upon Sam Evans.

"You know what?" Santana called over, finger raised in warning, to the group, "A reminder: I owns that guppy mouth. Those trouty Aerosmith lips belong to me, so..."

You were so drunk that your brows furrowed in an almost studying expression as you watched the two blonded kiss. But still, you had enough wherewithal to peer over your shoulder to make sure the boys' ex was okay, only to find her watching the two with sad eyes.

Reaching behind you as best you could, you grasped her calf, rubbing into the soft skin underneath, trying to comfort her, gaining a soft smile in return as Sanatana reached over to separate the two.

"You know what this is not? Hey, honeys? It's not a Big Red commercial. No me gusta."

"Oh, I agree with Santana," your voice began to take on a dopey, slurred sound, "I don't wanna see that."

Rachel threw her arms up right after, blanking your words entirely.

"Whoo! Party. My turn. It's my turn."

You groaned, flinging your head back as the noise of glass spinning against the wooden checkerboard filled the room, "I definitely don't wanna see that!"

At the intense cheering and Kurt's playful words, you lifted your head to see what was going on.

"This is outstanding!"

Only to find your sister pointing to Kurt's crush.

"Blane Warbler, I'm gonna rock. Your. World."

You laughed at that, just glad that you weren't about to watch her kiss anybody who might try to sleep with her at the end of the night.

"Stop egging them on!" You smiled at your friends, playful in their cries for the two to deepen the kiss, "I don't wanna see my sister make out with anybody, gay or not."

When the kiss had gone on for a little while, and Kurt could no longer take seeing that right in front of his face, he clapped his hands, hoping to get the two to pull away.

"Okay, I think we've had enough of that!"

"I know I have," you called, continuing to cackle, "But get used to it, Rach. He's not the only gay guy you're gonna kiss in your life!"

Finally pulling away, Rachel told the boy, "Your face... tastes awesome," turning to the watching crowd, she yelled, "I think I just found a new duet partner!"

"Oh God, please don't start singing."

And so led to yet another Rachel Berry performance in your basement.

Taking up refuge upon the brown chair, you watched as the two sang upon the stage, bouncing energetically to the music. Too drunk to notice the look Quinn and Finn both shared.

However, as you took a sip of your strong drink, your eyes found the couples adorning the room. Tina and Mike danced erratically before moving into a make-out session. While Brittany and Santana parked themselves on their respective boyfriends' laps, kissing them. And you suddenly felt lonely in a room filled with your friends. Hell, even Puckerman and Lauren seemed to be affectionate with each other.

So, it was only natural how your eyes travelled to the blonde who had ensnared your heart.

With a wave of your hand towards her thigh, you caught the girl's attention.

Making a grabbing motion, you silently asked for her hand. Which she gave to you, no questions asked, allowing you to lead her towards you, settling her on your lap so that she was sitting sideways, with one arm thrown over the back of the chair. The other held her cup on her lap, yours beside it, as your free hand moved to hold her waist.

The alcohol in her system truly threw her fears and inhibitions out of the window.

"How you doin' with everything?"

"I'm heartbroken and it's all I deserve."

Jutting out your bottom lip in a pout, hand travelling to rub up and down her back while she leaned into you, playing with the short tresses of the back of your hair.

"I don't like it when you're sad."

Pulling her cup to her lips, she replied with a shrug, "Maybe I shouldn't have cheated on Sam then."

"Yeah, you shouldn't of." You nodded, agreeing with her. "It wasn't a nice thing to do to ol' Sammy boi. But hey, I do know one thing to be true though."

Quinn sucked the leftover alcohol from her lips, peering down at you in curiosity.

"What's that?"

"If you didn't, you wouldn't be sitting on my lap right now."

With a giggle, she leaned in close, holding your neck in place so that you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to. Her voice seemed to lower an octave or two as she muttered her information over to you, "It is very comfortable."

"Well, it thanks you for those kind words."

"How drunk are you?" she asked after a few seconds of silent thinking, eyes shifting to look at every part of your face.

"'Bout as drunk as you."

"That's the perfect amount, then," she whispered before leaning in.

However, before her lips could meet yours. You were pulled out of your little world by none other than your friends cheering for the finished performance.

Still, you had the desire to solely blame your sister for being a cock block.

---

You awoke the next day with an intense hangover and a splitting headache.

With a groan, you turned to read the time upon the clock on your bedside table. The thing mocked you with every tick it made, sending a sharp pain through your skull and deep into your brain. It almost wasn't worth finding out it was 11:15 AM. No... it wasn't worth it.

Ever so slowly, you laid yourself back onto your mattress so as to not further anger your hangover. Eyes slipping shut, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep under your belt before you had to deal with the task of trying to cure your hangover.

That was until you felt shuffling in the bed beside you.

Your eyes snapped open, fighting against the pain brought on by the sudden brightness of your room, hurriedly peering over to the space beside you.

Only to find a naked blonde lying face down in the bed beside you. Her hair fanned across her bare shoulders in messy waves, back raising and falling in steady breaths, captivating your eyes.

There were only two possibilities on who it could be.

One was more likely to happen than the other.

So, as the girl began moving, letting out soft noises in reaction to her own hangover, you found yourself silently chanting.

'Please don't be Brittany. Please don't be Brittany. I can't do that to Artie'

No matter how likely it would be her.

I mean, there was no way it could be the alternative... right?

But there she was.

In all of her hangover glory.

Quinn Fabray.

"What?" she breathed, now on her back, confused as to why you were lying beside her and why you were shirtless, "What happened? Why are you naked?" Glancing down, she found herself in the same predicament. Quickly scooping up the bed sheets as she moved to sit up covering her chest. "Why am I naked?"

At her mass amount of questions, you finally realised that you were, in fact, naked yourself. The full memories of last night hitting you light a freight train.

But if there was one thing you could never stop being, that was a sarcastic shit.

"I'm surprised that you would need the birds and the bees talk."

The girl placed a plan over her scrunched-up face, voice coming out slightly muffled as she spoke, "Oh, God, we had sex, didn't we?" The question was rhetorical. You could tell she was remembering your midnight activities together.

"Oh, gee, thanks. Say it like you regret it more, why don't you?"

"I didn't mean it like that." She shook her head at you. Quinn was silent for a few long moments before her voice trailed off, "I can't believe we were drunk the first time we had sex."

"First time?" you pointed out, with a wiggle of your eyebrows, gaining a roll of her hazel eyes in return.

"Shut up."

"I would say "make me", but you already did that last night."

Quinn groaned, resting her head in her hands. Soon surprising you, when she moved closer, laying on your -still naked- chest.

"I'm going back to sleep. This headache is killing me."

You hummed in agreement, hand coming up to play with her messy blonde hair, trying to tame it as best you could.

"Let's hope that Rachel doesn't barge in."

"At this point, I don't care. As long as she lets me sleep this off."

Scoffing lightly, as you slowly fell asleep along with the girl, you uttered, "You must be stupid to think she wouldn't scream the house down."

No words were spoken after that.

The room no longer held two hungover teens after a night of sex.

It now held two hungover teens after a night of sex that were now fast asleep.

---

The next time you were at school was great... for you.

Your friends, however? They were still suffering the repercussions of alcohol.

You probably should have known something was up when you spotted a large gaggle of them talking by the entrance.

But alas, you still strode your way over to them, greeting them with a smile.

"Hi, guys."

"Oh God, what the hell?" Artie asked when he saw you.

Smile drooping in confusion, you asked, "What?"

"How are you not hungover like the rest of us?" Santana clarified.

Shrugging, you explained, "I don't have hangovers. Well, I do, but they normally only last a few hours if I take care of myself right... but still, I think I have alcoholics in my DNA." Then a devilish smile of realisation took over your face, looking at them all. "Wait, are you guys still hungover?" Is that why you're these?" You gestured to their shades, soon reaching over to flick at Quinn's. "Wow, do you not have a pair of sunglasses that don't make you look like a bug?"

"Get off." She slapped your arm away. "I'm in pain."

"Oh, the poor baby," you said in a mocking tone. But still, you strode over to the girl, wrapping your arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into your chest.

For the first time all weekend, since she removed herself from your body in the late afternoon to go home, Quinn felt better. The scent that she could only describe as you wafted up her nose from your comfortable hoodie, almost seeming to soothe the intense ache in her brain immediately. Along with the darkness you gave her being pressed against you. If it was one thing Quinn was certain of, it was the fact that you were undoubtedly the world's best hangover cure.

"Hey, I'm in pain, too."

Rolling your eyes at Santana, you pulled her against you as well, feeling the blonde tense up suddenly under your arm, confusing you slightly. But you were quick to chalk it up as a reaction to her hangover continuing to cause her pain.

"We're all in pain," Mercedes spoke dryly.

"I'm afraid to say that I don't have enough arms to hug all of you."

"Well, I've got something to help with that," Artie smiled, raising the thermos and paper cups in his lap, "How about some Bloody Marys, y'all?"

You scoffed disbelievingly at the boy.

"Are you kidding me?" Mercedes asked, " The last thing I wanna do is drink."

"It'll help your hangover. That's what Bloody Marys are for. Hair of the dog that done bit yo' ass."

"Listen, all that's gonna do is delay your hangovers and make it worse when you actually deal with it."

"Well, maybe if you gave us your hangover tips, we wouldn't have to do this," Sam bit, obviously in pain and probably not liking the fact that you had your arms around both his girlfriend and ex-girlfriend.

"Okay." You shrugged, still holding onto the ex-cheerleaders. "As soon as you get up, eat something big and greasy- Sounds counterproductive, I know, but it works. Have a cup of coffee and some aspirin. Continue to take aspirin throughout the day. Drink a lot of water throughout the day. Sleep throughout the day. Done."

"That's... it?" Mike asked, making you hun and nod, "No weird concoction of condiments or anything?"

"No? Dude, I'd rather deal with a hangover than drink something you made me do when we went bowling last year."

"And that works?" Mercedes asked, referring to your "hangover cure".

Another shrug. "Works for me."

Looking down, you saw that Quinn was offering you one of the blue, medical-grade paper cups.

"You doing it?" you asked, plucking the cup from her hand. Confirmation in return. "I don't have a hangover and I don't feel like drinking right now, so no, thank you." You finished, bopping her on the nose with the cup before passing it off to Santana.

"Maybe next time you could give us those hangover tips of yours before we come to school."

"Well, Puckerman, with the big game you talk and how many parties you've been to, I'd thought you'd have hangovers in the bag by now."

Raising her hands between you and the boy, Quinn spoke, "Okay, don't you two start fighting now. I'm far too hungover to deal with it right now."

"Yeah, Puckerman."

"Y/N," the blonde scolded.

Even without Beth, she sure did act like a mother sometimes.

Later that day, your group performed a tester number for Mr Schuester in preparation for the assembly.

"Well done, you guys," the teacher praised, "I mean, you always bring it with the singing and the dancing. But what I was really impressed with today was your acting. I truly thought that some of you guys were drunk."

"Well, we take out craft seriously," Artie said.

"Yeah." You shot the teacher a faux smile. "We're such good actors."

"Right. Problem is that that song is great, but it- It kinda glorifies drinking, don't you think?" You nodded to the man's words while the rest of your team looked at him as if he had lost his damn mind. "I mean, we're supposed to sing about the dangers of alcohol at this assembly."

"Well, good luck finding a song that does that." You had to agree with Mercedes' words. Not a single song about not drinking came to mind.

"Mr Schue," Rachel said, sounding just as drunk as Mercedes did. Stumbling her way over to the centre of the stage, grasping a hold of Mike's arm for support, "First of all, that vest is very cute. You are all kinds of awesome."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at how obvious she was being in her drink-induced state.

When suddenly, you felt a hand sliding up your shirt, coming to rest upon your abdomen. Looking down in surprise, you found Quinn Fabray, gazing up at you with that same look in her eyes that she had the night of the party. With her free hand, she pulled you down to whisper privately in your ear, her hushed words making your eyes blow wide.

"I want you again."

"Oh-kay..." you said, pulling back, "You've got to be sober before you say that to me," you told her, finishing it off with a flick of your finger against the tip of her nose.

"Or, you could just get drunk," she counteroffered.

Not even gracing her with a reply, you focused back on your sister's words, all the while hoping that this was some 'liquid courage' situation and not a 'she only wants you when she's drunk' thing.

"But second, maybe there's really no songs about the dangers of drinking, because there's really none, as long as you have a proper designated driver."

'Okay, Mr Schue had got to know she's drunk right now'

"Need I remind you of hangovers," you said knowingly, words going ignored.

"Have I ever told you have great you are?"

"No! Bad, Rachel!" you scolded, pointing over at the brunette as Tina carted her boyfriend off and away from your sibling.

"Well, Rachel, yeah, driving drunk is dangerous. Any of you guys ever heard of alcohol poisoning? Yeah, it kills about four-hundred people every year."

"Oh, it's way more than that. Are you kidding me?" you regarded the man.

"You are so smart," Quinn muttered to you as she continued drawing random patterns upon the skin of your abdomen, admiring you from her position pressed against your side.

"Santana, are you crying?" Mr Schuester asked, distracted by the girl before he could reply to your words.

The teenager sniffled, waving him off. "I'm okay. I'm okay." Then her tears finally broke free, and she quickly wrapped Brittany up in a hug.

As quickly as it came, Quinn's infatuation with you left, and that same anger from a few nights ago began to build up once more. Seemingly out of nowhere, and not the fact that your attention had shifted over to the Latina.

However, instead of taking her anger out on you, it shifted to someone else entirely.

"You're such a hypocrite," she told the man, removing herself from your body, nearing him in challenge, "You drink. Most adults do."

"I may have a beer every now and then, but I- I don't get drunk," he scoffed.

"We're just sayin' this is a waste of time," Puck gave his input now, "I mean, we're totally aware of alcohol. We see adults drinking it and having fun. Every commercial for NASCAR is for beer."

"I think there are way more fun things to do than drink."

"Thank you, Y/N." Mr Schue gestured your way.

"Yeah, we could be doing one of those right now, but whatever," Quinn mumbled so only you could hear, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and tongue to tuck between your teeth and lower lip, shaking your head at her drunken wants.

"Look, tomorrow, come with your thinking caps on. Because, we're gonna spend the entire day brainstorming ideas for songs to sing at this assembly."

And with that concluded the performance.

Quinn's glare sent your way as she strode from the stage with her hands upon her hips, showing you just how your day was about to go.

The rest of the day, with drunk moody Quinn thinking that you don't want her.

That's just great.

---

You were exhausted when you arrived home from work. The knowledge that you had to work on your homework only furthered that.

However, before you could begin making your way upstairs, your attention was pulled to the voices wafting from the basement. Deciding to investigate yourself, you made your way down, only to see Kurt and Rachel cleaning up from the party the previous weekend.

"Hey Kurt, what are you doing here so late?" you asked, fiddling with your watch.

"I was in the neighbourhood."

"At ten o'clock?" Rachel asked sceptically, "Are you sure you're not here just to find out how my date with Blane went?"

The shock that you felt at her statement practically blasted you back. Raising your hands, you asked, "I'm sorry, what?" Isn't he, y'know, gay?"

"He's trying to figure that out."

"Oh, so he might be bi or something?" you shrugged, catching the look Kurt had out of the corner of your eye.

"Oh, was your date tonight?"

Rachel looked at him sadly, not liking his flippancy.

"Look, we're friends. So, I'm gonna be honest with you." She held the trashcan against her chest. "The date was lovely. We saw 'Love Story' at the revival theatre. We even dressed up as the characters."

"That's not gay at all," Kurt replied resentfully.

"I don't think that's, "gay"," you said, using air quotes, "People dress up to see movies and stuff all the time. Doesn't define their sexualities."

"I agree." Rachel smiled your way.

Clearing his throat irritably, Kurt moved on to ask, "Did you kiss?"

"No. Our lips split the evening, mouthing Ali Macgraw's dialogue. Frankly, I did expect a little snog as the date drew to a close. But I guess the timing just wasn't right."

You cringed at that, "God, please don't say the word 'snog'. It goes right through me."

"Or the blood-alcohol level."

Kurt was beginning to get on your nerves with his comments and the off-putting energy he was giving off.

So with your brows downturned in annoyance, you turned to the boy, question hot on your tongue, "Kurt, are you feeling okay? 'Cause, something seems to be up your ass, and not in a good way."

Not wanting to see a fight break out between the two of you. For the first time, Rachel tried to keep the peace.

"Look, I know that you have feelings for him, and I'm sure you think I'm crazy for asking him out. But... Blane is obviously conflicted, and if he turns out to not be gay, then I guess I will have done you a favour."

"Well, we all know one thing for sure," you stated, "He definitely. Likes. Guys. So, I don't know what the whole hub-bub is about," turning to Kurt, you floated over what his true anger was about, "Or is it just because you're scared you'd have more competition?"

"I'm not scared of anything," the boy spoke, clear as day, denying your obtuse words. Then pointedly moved to talk to your sister, as he moved to sit on the stage across from her, "I'm just doing you a favour by telling you that Blane is the first of a long line of conflicted men that you will date that will later turn out to be only the most flaming of homosexuals."

"Hey!" You pointed at the boy, the fire behind your eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't steal my joke like that. It may be true, but only I can say those things to her. And that doesn't negate the fact that this is just coming from a place of biphobia and jealousy."

"Blane and I have a lot in common," Rachel added, stopping Kurt from replying to your words.

"A sentiment expressed many a hag about many a gay."

Your hands flung up into the air, head thrown back, looking like you were almost asking some Deity or God what you had done to have to deal with this coming from your friends.

Jealousy sure was a bitch sometimes.

Rachel seemed to back into herself after the boy's words, causing you to inhale sharply, anger bubbling up inside you, along with the intense drive to protect your family.

"Look, I don't doubt that you and Blane would have a jolly good time shopping at Burberry and arguing who would make the better Rum Tum Tugger. I don't dispute that," he said, placing a hand over his heart as she smiled, amused, "But there's something you and Blane will never have, and that's chemistry."

"Well, they do go to different schools." You smiled painfully at the boy, knowing exactly what you were getting at.

Your attention was soon brought back to your sister and her self-assured words.

"Fine. Then I'm gonna prove you wrong. I'm gonna take the beer goggles off, and I'm gonna kiss him sober. And if the spark is still there, then I'm taking you to the bakery of your choice for a piping-hot slice of humble pie."

You gazed down at her with a soft smile drawn across your lips, proud at the fact that this was the first time she had even attempted to "kill someone with kindness". Until the word 'pie' dawned on you.

"Can I come? I like pie."

Rachel shook her head at you humouredly before it fell when she spotted the thing hanging at the back of the stage.

"Whose bra is that?"

Looking over, you found a pink, polka-dotted bra tied up in the long beaded tassels situated in front of a plush red curtain.

Sighing, you stepped over the two folded legs, swiftly pulling the thing from its suspension.

"It's Brittany's. I'll take it back to her before work tomorrow."

"How do you know it's Brittany's?" Rachel asked, looking at you sceptically.

"She literally stripped during the party." You gestured with the thing in hand. "But even then, how do you think I know?"

Your sister's face scrunched up in reaction, disgusted by the information of your sex life, and vocalised by her, "Ew."

Clearing his throat, Kurt uttered, "I better go."

"I'll walk you out," you stated, actually wanting him to be out of your house after the comments he had made.

It was only when you were at the base of the stairs with Kurt ascending them, did Rachel call out to you.

"Are you gonna help me clean this up?"

"Hell no! You wanted the party. You clean up after it. I have better things to do." Then you remembered your homework. "You know, on second thought, maybe I will help you."

It was building up inside of you, and Kurt could feel it too. The intense need to further chew him out. By the time you held the door open for him, and he stepped out, you couldn't find it in you to keep your words at bay.

"Kurt?" You watched as his shoulders dropped in a sigh, having been hoping that you would just slam the door and let him be on his way. But that, it seemed, wasn't in the books for him, so he turned, ready to take whatever you had to say. "Our community has enough hate flung at it for it to come from inside the house, too. There's a reason there's a 'B' in LGBT, and it's not for 'boobs'. I get that there's a stigma around it for being a "stepping stone", but that doesn't mean it isn't any less valid than our sexualities." You waved a hand between the two of you. "If I were you, I'd accept that. Sooner rather than later. 'Cause hell, if Blane does turn out to be bi, there's still a chance he could like you, and I'm sure he'd be just as disappointed as I am to find out you're a biphobe. If not more so."

And with that, you gave the boy what he had originally hoped for and closed the door in his face.

---

"Hey."

Looking up from where you were lacing up your shoes, you spotted Quinn standing not too far from you, playing with her fingers. You had never seen her look so bashful before. With her hair curled and teased for the upcoming performance.

"Het," you replied in turn, rising to your full height and coming closer to the blonde, "You fully sober, or are you gonna try to have sex with me again?"

She sighed, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is there to talk about?" you shrugged, "We had sex, and nothing's gonna come of it. It was just a one-night stand... even if you did try to sleep with me again after that."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. And how moodily I reacted afterwards. I guess I can get kind of angry when I'm drunk."

"You guess?"

"Sorry up," she half laughed, half scoffed, shaking her head at you. After a few moments of just watching you smile down at her, she spoke, "You know, most people wouldn't have said "no" to me."

"If you think it was anything against you, that wasn't the case," you told her, seeing right through her nonchalant exterior and into the volubility underneath.

Quinn's brows furrowed. "It wasn't?" A shake of your head. "Then what was it?"

"You were drunk, and I wasn't," you stated simply, "I wasn't going to do that with you in that state, no matter how much you wanted it. Even if you would continue to want it when you were sober. I'm not Puckerman. I respect consent in all its forms." Then a whisper, "I wouldn't do that to you."

It didn't take a detective to see the tears shining in her eyes, begging to be released.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

A shrug. "I try. But this isn't part of that. This is just me being a normal human being."

With one last soft smile her way, you turned to get in position for the number, that was until-

"It wasn't just because of the alcohol."

"What?"

"Us having sex," Quinn clarified, "I wanted it. I just needed the courage. And in the end, there was nothing for me to be scared of."

"That right?" you asked, coming closer, a flirty smirk that matched adorning your features.

"Yeah. I had a lot of fun. Didn't know I could feel that good."

"Oh, really? Well-"

"Guys!" Mr Schue called over, shattering the moment between you and the blonde, "C'mon, let's get into places."

Turning back to the Fabray, you shook your hands beside your face. "Show time." Revelling in the soft giggle she gifted you with just as your principal spoke to the gathered assembly as your teacher exited to join them.

"Quiet, please. Quiet, please, children. I would like to wish you and yours a healthy and happy alcohol awareness week. Unfortunately, Kitty Dukakis could not be here because of disinterest. But Lima police chief Lawrence Krowley is here to show you a grisly slide show of auto accidents. Take it away, chief."

"That's gotta be illegal, right?"

"He already showed me them after I stole the ATM," Puck stated, not answering your question, in the slightest.

Coming back from peering out into the crowd, Brittany's voice wavered in nervousness, "Guys, I'm really nervous. Ke$ha's been a cultural icon for weeks, and I really want to do her music justice."

"Don't you love a couple week-long icon?" you joked, hoping to break the tension and get the scared girl to laugh, only for it to fail.

At least you tried, right?

"We haven't had enough rehearsal," Sam stated, only furthering the club's pessimism.

"Or any at all," Mercedes added.

"And most of our assembly performances usually end in some kind of riot."

"I can't be blamed for the first one," you said, straightening out your backwards cap, "My eyes are still burning from that thing."

At just that moment, Rachel rushed up, a large plastic bottle filled with a murky brown substance in hand, along with a stack of red solo cups.

"Never fear, teammates. Now, it's a Broadway tradition for nervous performers to take a shot of whiskey before going on to calm their nerves and to mask the stench of bad dental hygiene," she rushed to say, handing out the cups as the team gathered around.

Watching as she poured some of the mysterious liquid into the red cup, you questioned, "Did you drain our plumbing and are now trying to make us drink it?"

"Of course not. Following the Broadway tradition, I have mixed us a playful showbiz cocktail of what was left in my dads' liquor cabinet."

"Don't become a bartender, Rach. Because this looks like sewage water." You pointed down at the substance Artie was now pouring and handing out to everyone. "What the hell is even in that?"

"There's some brandy in here, vermouth, and port wine, and scotch in here," she listed the ingredients of her concoction, "And also a little bit of Kool-Aid and some crumbled-up Oreos."

"Oreos? Wait, are you trying to poison us with this?" you regarded her, raising your own cup in pointless reference.

"Oh, my God. This tastes like cough syrup," Santana cringed after taking a sip.

"There's also cough syrup in here." Rachel pointed down to her own drink, cringing at the taste of herself.

"Oh, it's drugged too?"

That, it seems, didn't matter to the team, as they all cheered, raising their cups to tap them all together.

"To Ke$ha."

Pulling the cup to her chest, Quinn peered into the contents unsurely, debating whether to drink it or not. With the same look in her eye, she turned to you, silently asking your opinion. With the way your face was pulled into mild disgust, she further shook her head for clarification. Gaining the same action in return, she allowed you to reach over and pluck the drink from her hand.

"Don't drink that," you whispered. Pouring her shot into your cup. Collapsing the two together and placing them away from the audience's view.

"Thank you, chief," the voice of your principal sounded throughout the gymnasium once more as you all got into your positions, "And now, performing the hit single "Tik" and also "Tok" by rapper Ke-dollar-sigh-ha, the New Directions."

The performance was going amazingly well. Which was surprising. The students seemed to be loving it, and in turn, cheering you on. However, things started to go downhill in the middle of the performance when Brittany stumbled over to say something to your sister. And by the end, it had turned into a total fiasco.

It started with Brittany. The girl moved back over to Rachel, only to projectile vomit all over her. Reaching out to the brunette, she uttered, "Oh, my God." Shocked and sorry for what had just happened all the while, the shorter Berry rushed off the stage. Presumedly to get herself cleaned up.

Then, possibly in reaction, Santana stumbled past you, retching and gagging, as she herself vomited in the direction of the audience, further shocking everyone.

Dropping the arm you had lifted into the air, avoiding the Latina, you now rubbed along her back as she continued spluttering towards the grey-matter-coated floor. Free hand, coming to pull her puke-covered hair away from her face, holding it in a ponytail, like you remember doing so much for Quinn when she was pregnant last year.

She seemed to remember that too. Chest tightening, and face twitching in the background, as she watched you take care of Santana, just like you used to do for her.

Leaning down, you passed your arm under hers, dropping her hair as you pulled her into your chest. That seemed to be exactly what Santana needed, as on instant, she cuddled into you, letting you take on most of her weight.

"Just don't throw up on me, yeah?" you whispered down to the girl, gaining a sleepy nod in return.

That was all the information you needed to begin leading her way off of the temporary stage. Passing Finn, you said, "At least this one didn't end in a riot."

You think the riot might have been better.

"Everybody, drink responsibly."

---

Mr Schue seemed to have caught on to the reoccurring battle you and Mike had against Finn and Puckerman during his class. And so, he split you up. However, he wasn't smart enough to split you from your friends entirely. No. He just placed you behind enemy lines.

So, there you sat, at the front of the class, in your usual seat, with Finn now beside you. The other two behind you as the teacher strolled between the isles.

Everything was calm.

That was until the PA system sounded to life.

The jingle of a xylophone made an entrance for a speech yet to come, then Beck Jackson's voice poured throughout the school.

"Heads up, McKinley. Coach Sylvester's gonna shout at ya'."

"Students... colleagues... indeed, all who understand the Queen's English. We all still quake in terror at what we witnessed yesterday at the assembly by a Glee Club spiralling out of control. My nose is still finned with the acrid stench of teen vomit. And there is simply but one person to blame, the alcoholic teen-vomit fetishist. Will Schuester, the director of that club. Two days ago, I received a drunk dial in the middle of the night from a horny Will Schuester."

Your brows shot into your hairline, jaw-dropping, peering over your shoulder at Mike, sharing the same look of surprised horror before you faced the front once more.

"Open your ears, McKinley high, and behold,d the awful price of alcoholism." With a soft beep, your teacher's slurred voice replaced the coaches.

"Hey there, sexy lady. There's something I really, really want to say to you. I love how you eat your lunch with your little plastic gloves, and they crinkle and make the cutest sound I've ever heard in my life." Hastily, you moved to cover your mouth, stopping the laugh that was dying to come out from escaping, the whole school knowing exactly who he was talking about. Your guidance counsellor. Your married guidance counsellor. "Why don't you pick up some wine coolers and comer over here? And it'll be just one night of us just getting crazy. Let's just get crazy. Let's just get really crazy and roll around in the hay." It was getting harder and harder to control your amusement. "I was just in some hay earlier tonight, and I rode a bull, and I was thinking of you."

Your saving grace came in the form of the return of Coach Sylvester's voice, "Will Schuester, you've just been publicly humiliated. And on the road to recovery, it's the very first step."

Talk about your first class of the day.

Later that same day, the Glee Club and its director were hailed into the principal's office, ready for him to dish out the expected punishments.

"We're probably gonna get suspended."

"Second suspension of the year, and it's not even over yet!" you playfully celebrated, only to receive a scolding slap to your shoulder from Quinn in return, "Ow! Hurting me."

"I think you'll definitely get suspended," Mr Schue stated, "You'll probably all get suspended."

"Oh, you're one to talk. How about you crank a four loko, Count Boozy Von Drunk-a-thon?"

You had to speedily hide your snort at Santana's words as your principal entered at that exact moment behind you.

When he was finally behind his desk, the man spoke, "William. Glee club. I have one word for you... congratulations."

'What?'

"Those special effects at the assembly really paid off. I had no idea what brilliant musical-comedy performers you all have become."

Leaning over to Quinn, you whispered, "Is this guy for real?"

"The kids at this school are scared straight."

That was all you needed for your question to be answered. Whispering once more, "Yep." Then you moved back into your original position.

"Today is the first day in a month without a single act of public drunkenness at McKinley High!" Following in suit with the man, you applauded your surprising success. "And as a thank you, here are coupons for half-off frozen yoghurt. Yum!"

As Principal Figgins and Mr Schuester spoke in private, you held up the coupon Artie had handed you, flashing the Fabray a soft grin.

"Feel like grabbing some frozen yoghurt?"

She smiled back at you. "Sure."

"Okay. Achievement!"

"Achievement!"

You had no choice but to sit beside Quinn.

Literally.

The girl had her fingers wrapped into one of your jean loops since you exited the principal's office and headed for the choir room.

"I'm torn," Brittany said as soon as she sat down, "Part of me never wants to drink again because it made me so sick, but if it weren't for drinking, the assembly would've been a disaster."

"I, for one, am never drinking again," Rachel stated from the seat in front of yours, "Being thrown up on, it just does something to a person."

"All right, guys. While I'm happy things worked out with the assembly... I never want to see you guys pull anything like that again," Mr Schue spoke from the front of the class, "Drinking while performing is unprofessional. Drinking while at school is just stupid, and most importantly, any of you guys drinking at all is illegal."

"There's a fair amount of the pot calling the kettle back right now."

"Yeah." You nodded, agreeing with Quinn's statement. "Plus, I only did one of those things because I'm tough and can handle a hangover, unlike these weakens."

With a humoured smile, Quinn gently slapped your thigh.

"I couldn't agree more. Which is why I'm gonna stop drinking. Not even a beer at the end of the night to take the edge off."

"But if you don't drink, what will you have to live for?" Santana questioned.

"That's... really depressing. And a way that alcoholism can start."

"Exactly. I have plenty in my life without beer."

It was Mercedes' turn to ask a depressing question, "Like what exactly?"

Your brows ticked up when he silently stuttered in reaction to that question.

"The point is, I'm gonna stop. And I hope you guys do too."

"Isn't that kind of unrealistic?" Tina smiled.

"Yeah. Honestly, I think it is," he admitted truthfully, walking to pick up a McKinley High stamped manilla folder, "Which is why I'm only gonna ask you to do it until after Nationals. Consider yourselves like prize fighters, getting ready for a big heavyweight bout."

"I know I'd win!" you called, slapping at your biceps.

"I'm sure you would, Y/N," he chuckled while you continued to flex jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at Quinn when you noticed the look she was giving you, only for the blonde to roll her eyes and turn away, intent on listening to the rest of the man's words, "Now. These are pledge forms." He raised the blue sheets of paper so that everyone could see. "And I want you guys to sign them."

"And what if we fall off the wagon again?" Puckerman asked.

Already prepared for that question, the teacher instructed, "Look in the top corner of your form. That's my cell phone number."

"Yes."

"Score!" Sam and yourself joked, gaining laughs from the team.

"Part of your pledge is that if one of you do slip up, no matter where you are or what time of the night it is, I want you to call me to drive you home. We got lucky this time that the only consequence of your drinking was some ill-timed vomiting. None of us wants to see any of you guys get hurt."

"Cool beans, Mr Schue. I'll sign."

""Cool beans"," you mocked Santana.

"Oh, shut up."

"Me too," Rachel spoke, "Alcohol has done nothing for my songwriting."

With that cocky smile on his face, Finn ventured a question over to the teacher, "What about after we win Nationals?"

After a pause for suspense, he replied, "I'm buying us sparkling cider."

A couple of minutes later, after waiting for Quinn to sign her name upon her own pledge and hand the pen over to you, you began to scrawl your own, "'Y/N'... should I put a middle name?" you asked the room, "Hey, Rach, what's my middle name?"

"You don't have one," she replied, confused that you don't remember something so basic about yourself.

Not taking that for an answer, you decided on putting one down anyway.

"'MacGyver'... 'Berry'."

"Why 'MacGyver'?" Quinn asked with a laugh.

To which you just shrugged and said, "Funny name."

---

"So, you said he comes this way at three thirty?"

You didn't know why you were here.

No. Correction, you did.

To support Rachel, to tell Kurt off it needed, for the delicious food, because she dragged you. So, it wasn't really your choice. There were a myriad of reasons.

You didn't want to be here.

But the muffin you were devouring sure made it a bit better.

"Like clockwork," Kurt nodded, "For his post-rehearsal medium drip."

"I just can't wait to lay one on him," Rachel said, adding more chapstick to her lips.

With your mouthful, you uttered, "Gross."

"You know what's gross?" she asked rhetorically, pointing to your chewing mouth, "That."

Very maturely, you opened your mouth, showing her the chewed-up contents within, sending a shiver through her.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Rachel," Kurt started, once more, "I mean, I don't mean to be a scold, but I don't want you to get hurt either."

"I kinda agree with him," you spoke around another mouthful, pointing over to Kurt, "Just up and randomly kissing someone isn't always the best idea."

The boy sighed, leaning back in his chair, adding to his prior words, "There's no victory in this for me either way."

"Who cares about you, biddy?" she practically kissed over the table, "I may get a new boyfriend out of this, who can keep up with me vocally, and in the future, give me vaguely Eurasian-looking children."

"Okay... I will allow you to be bitchy to her once because of that," you told Kurt.

The boy quickly grew distracted, attention slowly upon the entrance of the coffee shop.

"There he is. Dreamy as ever."

"He is pretty good-looking." You nodded, peering at the other Warbler, before staring down at the last pieces of your sweet treat. "Is this muffin making me straight?"

Ignoring you entirely, Rachel whispered to your table, "Okay. Wish me luck."

Vaguely, you heard the boy greet your sister, "Hey, Rachel. What's going on?" Before he was cut off by her lips connecting with his own. Then once it finished, "Huh. Yep. I'm gay. One hundred per cent gay. Thank you so much for clearing that up for me, Rachel. Listen, save my space in line, will you? I gotta go hit the restroom."

Speedily finishing the last of your muffin, you followed Kurt over to your gobsmacked sister.

"That was hard, wasn't it?"

"Are you kidding?" she breathed, "That was amazing. I am speechless." Your brows furrowed at her gushing, having expected her to be at least somewhat heartbroken. "I just had a relationship with a guy who turned out to be gay."

"I don't think one date and two kisses counts as a relationship."

"That is songwriting gold. Oh!" she exclaimed, moving to kiss Kurt's cheek, then yours.

"Ugh," you sneered.

"Okay. I have to go compose, but thank you." She bounced in her place. "Thank you!"

Then she was off, exiting the Lima Bean, intent on writing a song you would be forced to hear over and over again as she worked on it.

Fantastic.

Leaving you alone with Kurt.

Brilliant.

"Listen, Y/N..." the boy started nervously, "I... I really want to say sorry for how I've been acting lately. I know there's no excuse for my words, but... you were right. I really was just jealous."

"I know." You nodded.

"This is the first crush I've had that could actually be feasible, and, I guess, I just couldn't handle anyone standing in the way of that, and it led me to say things I truly didn't mean- I'm not like that, I swear, I would never hate someone just for who they are, or think that their sexuality wasn't real. I can't even begin to explain why I acted that way. All I know is I'm sorry."

"I know that too." You nodded once more, reaching over to pat his back. "It's not my apology to accept. All you gotta do is show me that you mean what you say no, and continue to grow with it. But still, if you really wanna show me just how sorry you are, you can buy me one of those giant cookies I like."

Kurt laughed, relieved that things between the two of you were fine once more.

"You got it. I think I might have one, too."

"Hell yeah!"

Turns out your sister wasn't the only one having a date with a gay guy this week.

You were going to be seeing two when Blane came back.

-----

Prev Part | Next Part

[supercap2319]

"If you tell anyone that I banged a shadysider, I'll kill you." Kurt warned as he got up from the bed, ass on full display as he went to get his beer from the nightstand.

Y/N watched the little moon-show and smirked. "Right. Because I wanted everyone to know that a Sunnyvaler fucked my tight ass with his big cock."

Kurt looks at him. "You bet it's a big dick."

"Feel like round 2?" Y/N teased.

Kurt took a swig of beer before getting back into bed with Y/N.

[kalivodaskiller]

Tommy Slater x Reader

Camp Nightwing Part 1:

Your boyfriend, Tommy Slater, has slaughtered multiple Shadysider’s at the end of the night but it’s not over until you have gone…

Word count: 1163

“Come on, Come on!” I shout to the children climbing into the buses, I look around for Tommy not knowing where he is

“He’s probably looking for other children,” I tell myself quietly hoping the killer hadn’t gotten to him

“Hurry!” I shout helping more children in. I close my eyes hoping nothing had happened to Tommy as I lost a little hope he was still out there every second that passed. My favourite memories with Tommy began rushing in

The first day I met him at Shadyside High on the history project we were partnered up to do

The day he asked me out on a date to a drive-in movie, we watched The Aristocats

The day he asked me to be his girlfriend, it was so cheesy but I love it so much

The days we talked about our future and what we wanted to when we are older

Our 1 year anniversary when he took me rollerskating

Our 2 year anniversary when we watched movies all day and night

“(Y/N)” I heard a voice from behind me, I get startled at the voice and turn around

Kurt

“We’re about to leave, where are Tommy and Nick?” Kurt asks with blood around his neck

“Kurt your neck” I look closer leaning in to touch it but Kurt pulls away Kurt then touches the blood on his neck and explains it,

“Blood was on Nick’s hands and he shoved me forwards to get the kids out of here”

“Blood was on Nicks’s hands?” I ask confused

“Yeah I did ask him if it was him but he just dodged my question but I really doubt it’s him so don’t go turning it into a case okay (Y/N)” Kurt told me

I nodded my head keeping the thought it was Nick in my mind

“I’m going to go find Tommy,” I tell Kurt with a worried smile plastered on my face. I turn around to head to the outhouse but is quickly stopped by Kurt grabbing my hand

“Be careful okay?” He tells me, Kurt had always been the worrisome type even in high school when I’d tell him I’d walk home alone but he’d constantly protest for me to walk home with someone but I always told him I’d be fine but he’d still accompany me

“I will” I smile and let go of his hand but not before giving it a tight squeeze

The outhouse was only about 2 minutes away but I knew when I heard a scream from the Mess Hall that the outhouse was not the place I needed to be at that point. I rush over to the Mess Hall and try opening the door but it won’t budge, not even a little bit

“Who’s in there!” I shout but all I get in return is a little girls scream

“Who the fuck is in there!” I shout going round to one of the windows to see inside but right as I saw it I wish I never had

A little girl on lying on the ground in a pool of blood, her own blood. While someone is going at her chest with an axe

I should have noticed who it was right away, their beautiful blonde hair I love running my hands through, my favourite red and black jacket I always stole, the yellow shirt that said ‘Grafton Notch’ on the chest that he didn’t want to wear

It was Tommy Slater

My Tommy Slater

My Tommy Slater, the one who wishes for children in the future

My Tommy Slater was driving an axe into the girl we’re supposed to protect

“Tommy!” I yelled. I couldn’t believe it, the person I love most is murdering someone right in front of my eyes

Tommy turned to me. No Tommy didn’t turn to me, that wasn’t Tommy. The look in his eyes told me, Tommy only ever had a happy look in his eyes, ones I could stare into for eternity but these I couldn’t even look at them for a second

Tommy pulled his bloody axe covered in multiple people’s blood out of the girl, the girl I learned to be Annie. She always liked to do tasks with me and Tommy watching her, she even said once that she thought of us as her parents never treated her this nicely. I could have cried then and there when she said that

I was crying now, the sight of it was overwhelming. Tommy approached the window I was behind and tried smashing it to get to me but it didn’t break at all, so he headed for the door I now guess he blocked up so no one could enter but by this time I was already gone heading for the buses hoping they hadn’t left yet

I arrived at the buses but just as I got there the buses hissed before driving off

“Shit!” I screamed

I spun around to see if Tommy got out. He had

He was behind me

I screamed an ear-piercing scream that could have deafened me and tried running but Tommy grabbed my hand and swung his axe at my arm and took it off in one clean cut

The pain was unbearable to the point where I fell to my knees, I was now waiting for an axe to split my head in half but it never came all I could hear was Tommy’s breathing

A few seconds passed before he pulled me up by my hair, he stared into my eyes but it felt as if he was staring into my soul. We were like that for a couple more seconds of staring into each other's eyes but I wouldn’t say I was staring into Tommy’s eyes. I was staring into the Camp Nightwing Killer’s eyes. There was no Tommy left in there but still I tried

“Tommy” I whispered, the adrenaline of looking at him was slowly taking my pain away

He didn’t respond, no facial expression change, all he did was push me to the ground so I was on my back. That's when I realised he pulled me backup so he had a direct shot of my chest

And that’s what he did. He swung his axe right into the middle of my chest. I knew there was no coming back from this

I was cursed

Tommy swung again hitting the same spot. Blood was now in my mouth and I was spitting it out

He swung again once again but this time I spoke in between hits

“Tommy”

Thud! Another hit

“It’s me”

Thud!

“Tommy darling it’s me!”

Those were my last words as the final hit took me out

Tommy killed the things he wouldn’t even lay a hand on

Children

And me

A/N: this is my first fear street fan fiction so it’s really bad but i need to contribute to the small amount there are

[sweetwithsomextraspice]

Goody Two Shoes || Alice Hart

Show/Movie: Fear Street 78’

Alice Hart x masc!reader

Song: Yellow-Coldplay

Summary: Alice and y/n have had feelings for each other for a while. However, Alice is a ShadySider and you live in the SunnyVale area. You only see each other during summer camp when you both are counseling together. Finally, you two get alone so you see what happens next.

Warning: Fluff (no smut this time)

The sound of children laughing everywhere cause serotonin to run through your body. The gleeful smile that appeared on your face from watching the children happily play always made you feel better. You watched as Kurt walked up to you. “Hey, y/n.” He said with a smile. His placed his hands on his hips and let out a rough exhale. “These kids are something else.” He said with a joking smile.

“Hey Kurt,” you replied before laughing to his comment. “They always are but they make me smile each time.” You ran your fingers through your hair. You looked over to see Cindy Berman with Tommy Slater and their hot best friend Alice Hart with them.

You watched the white haired girl as she walked with the group. Kurt had noticed you spacing out so he tried to grab your attention again. “I’m gonna need you to monitor color guard until I get done with some business.” He looked away anxiously.

You laughed a bit, “business with your girlfriend, Joan?” You said sarcastically, trying to tease him. He looked back up, his cheeks were really red and puffed out. He was obviously embarrassed.

“Pfft! No!” He spat out but didn’t make eye contact with you until he was done talking. “She’s not my girlfriend!” He scoffed.

You saw as a little girl walked up to the both of you, “Mr. Kurt?” Her tender voice spoke. Kurt looked down at her. She was a SunnyVale kid, she had a oversized red shirt that said ‘SunnyVale’ in all caps on it.

“What is it, Celia?” He asked in a soft voice, bending down. He put his hands on his knees.

“Can you get a ball for me to play with?” She asked with eyes that pleaded him to do so. He nodded his head.

“Sure, let’s go.” He pat the girl’s shoulder. She ran off, he then turned to face you. “I’ll be back, Y/N.” He then walked after the girl to get her something to play with. As you watched them both walk off to the mess hall, you heard a voice call out to you.

“Y/N!” The deep feminine voice called out to you. You quickly turned your head to see Alice walking over to you. She had her ShadySide shirt tucked into her shorts. You watched as she strutted over to you. Your face turned red as you watched her walk over, growing nervous.

“Hello, Hart.” You said with a pleased smile on your face, trying to hide the nervousness you felt. She had a bright beautiful smile with smudged makeup. The strong scent of weed came from off her clothes. “Jeez, how much did you smoke?” You asked in a disgusted tone.

She looked down at her shirt, “this is usually the shirt I wear when I do smoke, but I had to wear it today. That means that I have smoked about one joint today.” She turned back to me with a smirk on her face. “You want some?” She leaned in a bit.

You looked down at the girl with your arms crossed. “Heck no. Unlike you, I care about my job.” She seemed disappointed by the response. She huffed and leaned away. You tilted your head then started laughing. “How come you came over here?”

She looked back up at me, slightly swaying. “Well I finally got a chance to get you alone without Kurt. I just wanted to say you look cute in that little red shirt.” She looked down then back up at you. “Just thought you should know. The girls won’t get their eyes off of you.” She then wiggled her fingers. “That’s it, bye!” She walked off back to her friends.

You sat there, your cheeks almost the same color as your shirt. You flattened your shirt out and turned away, you walked off to the mess hall to find out where Kurt was.

You couldn’t find where he was so you finally gave up. You found Sheila with the Goode’s youngest brother, Will Goode, they were being all lovey dovey. They weren’t the kids you were counseling so you shrugged it off and kind of just walked off back to the kids you were monitoring. Nick was temporarily watching them while you were gone. This was Nick’s first year as a counselor and he was doing pretty well. Like how Alice said girls’ eyes were locked on you, Nick also had a lot of girls crush on him. He saw you walking over so he waved.

“Hey y/n, they’re pretty good. You must be a great counselor.” He awkwardly complimented you. You smiled and nodded their head.

“Learned a thing or two from your brother. I think you’ll follow just in his footsteps.” You tried to compliment him back. “Speaking of your brother, you should check on the youngest one. He’s getting pretty intimate with Sheila back there.” You warned him.

He was a bit embarrassed over the fact that Will was always making his public affection for Shelia too much for younger kids. “Thanks, Y/N!” He quickly ran off. You watched as he did so, you noticed the time and saw Kurt walk over to the group with a big red flag.

“You guys ready for color war!” He yelled. The kids all screamed and jumped up and down. The competition was between ShadySide and SunnyVale and SunnyVale won every year, it was a ruling tradition for them. You watched as Kurt hyped up the kids then sent them off.

After a while, you grew a bit bored so you sat down behind a cabin. Suddenly you heard footsteps approach you, you turned to see Alice’s figure. “Hey bud.” She smiled a bit. You smiled softly at her.

“Hey, Hart.” You ran your fingers through your hair again. You watched as the girl sat down next to you, she leaned her head back against the wooden cabin. She looked over at you, the bored expression on it obvious she was not into the color guard game. “What’s going on with you?” You ask with a chuckle.

She scoot a bit closer to you, “well.” You notice her movements and felt your heart race a million miles faster than before. You look up at her again as she continued talking. “Cindy and Tommy are actually watching the game, Joan isn’t anywhere to be found along with Kurt. I bet they’re fucking.” She cackled.

You looked over at her, “language!” You slapped her arm playfully. You felt yourself let out small laughs, her laugh was really contagious so you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“What? You act like you don’t swear!” She punched my arm in response. You did say a few words that weren’t appropriate for camp but that was only to your friends. Other than that, you were a complete Goody Two Shoes and she teased you about it constantly. This time she didn’t make the comment, instead she grew quiet. You looked over at the silent girl, she was never quiet. Something felt off.

“Seriously though, are you alright?” You asked in a calm manner in order to gain her trust. You didn’t want her to be pressured into spilling why she’s so upset but you still wanted her to tell you. She looked over at you and smiled softly.

“I don’t know, just being with you during a time like this. It’s just…amazing you know?” She looked over. “I know we don’t speak much and honestly we really can’t. I’m from ShadySide and you’re from SunnyVale, it’s kind of forbidden.” She laughed a bit, you looked away knowing how she was right. Finally you looked back at the girl and she looked at you. Your eyes locking together. “I just can’t get the image of you out of my mind!” The shock then appeared on your face. You were speechless, you couldn’t tell if she was prank you or if she was high. Whatever it was, you wanted to know more. “Y/N, I think i’m in love with you. Im scared of the thought of losing you.” She looked away again.

“Alice..” you finally said her name for the first time in a while. She turned her head over to you, the tears streaming down her face. You leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. Just a quick, soft one. You pulled away, “you aren’t going to lose me. You never will lose me. I could care less what people think about a ShadySide and a SunnyVale couple. I just care about you and me.” You turned your body to hers, placing your hands in her cheeks. You wiped her salty tears off her wet cheeks with your thumb pads. A smile on Alice’s face broke out as she leaned in to kiss you again.

Your eyes shut as you felt the girl’s soft lips. The taste of weed and strawberry chapstick lingered on her lips. You pulled away and leaned your foreheads against the others.

You looked into her eyes, both of you smiling sheepishly. You both were a blushing mess but neither of you would confess it. She was supposed to be a tough girl and you were supposed to be the goody two shoes everyone loves but what if the lines blurred.

Finally Alice spoke after the long period of silence, “I just want to say how hot you are.” She laughed.

“I was planning on saying the same thing.” You laughed as well.

“I’m glad I got to kiss you, but if you say a word that I kissed you, goody two shoes. I’ll kill you.” She spoke lightheartedly. “Bye bye.” She kissed your cheek and walked away. You were left confused but butterflies still swarmed in your stomach and you were left with your heart pounding in your chest. Whatever affect she put on you, you liked it. You liked her. All of her.

[swanimagines]

TO-DO LIST: IMAGINES/ONESHOTS

I do my requests in order I'm inspired in, so your request might get written today or after several months.

Legolas x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine teaching your and Legolas's children how to use bows and arrows.

Nancy Wheeler x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine Nancy protecting you from the Mind Flayer.

Steve Harrington x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine Steve constantly holding your hand when you’re in danger.

Ben and Klaus Hargreeves & reader [The Umbrella Academy]

Imagine being a ghost and being good friends with Ben and Klaus.

Steve Harrington x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine Steve not wanting you to see him in his Scoops Ahoy uniform because it makes him insecure, but when you finally see him in it, you can’t help but tell him how good he looks in it.

Natasha Romanoff & reader [MCU]

Imagine spending your time on the run with Natasha after Civil War.

Polly Gray & child!reader [Peaky Blinders]

Imagine being an orphan on the streets and Polly Gray taking you under her wing

Barley Lightfoot x reader [Onward]

Imagine playing board games with your boyfriend Barley Lightfoot, and getting competitive at it

Kurt Wagner x fem!Summers!reader [X-Men]

Imagine being Scott's sister and immediately hitting it off with Kurt when you visit the school.

Kurt Wagner x reader [X-Men]

Imagine being a student at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters and Kurt falling in love with you

Hank McCoy x reader [X-Men]

Imagine being Hank’s assistant and the whole school shipping you together, because you two are always constantly flirting in the classroom

Archie Hopper x reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine owning Perdy the Dalmatian and Henry doing all he can to get you and Archie together, like you were in the Enchanted forest

Jefferson x princess!reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine being a princess and running away with your true love Jefferson after your parents refuse to let you marry him because he is a commoner.

Aragorn x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine meeting Aragorn in Rivendell and the moment he lays eyes on you, he falls helplessly in love

Stiles Stilinski x reader [Teen Wolf]

Imagine you and your boyfriend Stiles finally agreeing to get matching tattoos, despite your fear of needles.

Bard x fem!reader [The Hobbit]

Imagine suffering an injury during Smaug’s attack that leaves you blind. But to your surprise, Bard insists on making you his Queen anyways, because he loves you

Luke Patterson x reader [Julie and the Phantoms]

Imagine your boyfriend Luke discovering you have a talented singing voice that you never realised you had, because you are too shy to sing in front of anyone, so he encourages you to record an album in the recording studio

Jaskier x reader [The Witcher]

Imagine Jaskier looking at you with love while you are singing to your daughter

Yennefer of Vengerberg x reader [The Witcher]

Imagine dancing with Yennefer at a ball

Geralt of Rivia & reader [The Witcher]

Imagine being making sure Geralt always feels welcome and safe in your village

Loki Laufeyson x reader [MCU]

Imagine Loki teasing you when he sees that you can’t take your eyes off him, whenever he is in a suit

Steve Rogers x fem!reader [MCU]

Imagine being Steve Roger’s girlfriend and him threatening a group of HYDRA agents who have taken you hostage

Bucky Barnes x reader [MCU]

Imagine Bucky always getting flashes of you when he escaped HYDRA and having no idea who you were to him, and later learning from T'Challa that you two had been dating during he was a Winter Soldier, and you had been killed by HYDRA.

Tauriel x fem!reader [The Hobbit]

Imagine being Legolas’s sister and falling in love/having a crush on Tauriel

Frodo Baggins x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine being Frodo’s childhood friend who he has a crush on and him getting irritated when Merry and Pippin flirt with you

Regina Mills & sister!reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine being Regina’s younger sister, and helping her escape her marriage to King Leopold

Gideon x reader [Once Upon a Time]

Imagine falling in love with Gideon and helping Belle and Rumpelstiltskin get his heart back

Lambert x fem!reader [The Witcher]

Imagine being a female warrior and catching Lambert’s eye after he sees you take down a man twice your size

Peter Maximoff & reader [X-Men]

Imagine being a new student at the Professor Xavier's School of Gifted Youngsters, and becoming friends with Quicksilver, but he keeps getting you into trouble with his pranks.

Rey Skywalker & reader [Star Wars]

Imagine Rey teaching you everything you need to know about being a scavenger after you are stranded on Jakku.

Luke Skywalker x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine constantly trying to admit to Luke Skywalker you have a crush on him, but you get nervous whenever you try to tell him.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine reuniting with your husband Poe, after you believed he died during a mission.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine comforting Poe after he has nightmares about being captured by The First Order.

Nina Zenik x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine sharing waffles and hot chocolate with your girlfriend Nina Zenik.

Jesper Fahey & reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine gambling against Jesper.

Nina Zenik x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine having a mental breakdown and Nina Zenik helping you through it.

Matthias Helvar x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine petting baby wolves with Matthias Helvar.

Lydia Martin x reader [Teen Wolf]

Imagine leaving romantic poems in Lydia’s locker everyday.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine Poe protecting you from danger.

Poe Dameron x reader [Star Wars]

Imagine being a friend of Poe Dameron and after you crash your X-Wing and wake up at the med bay, Poe is there and confesses his love to you.

Bruce Wayne x reader [The Dark Knight]

Imagine your boyfriend Bruce Wayne patching up your wounds after he rescues you from the Joker.

Alfred Pennyworth + Bruce Wayne & reader [Gotham]

Imagine being Bruce Wayne’s older sister and Alfred teaching both you and Bruce how to fight.

Peter Parker x reader [Marvel's Spider-Man] 🌙 anon

Imagine having a crush on Spider-Man and being friends with Peter through college, and him confessing that he's the Spider-Man.

Stiles Stilinski & Martin!fem!reader [Teen Wolf]

Imagine being Lydia’s little sister and always solving cases with Stiles.

Selina Kyle & sister!reader [Gotham]

Imagine being Selina Kyle’s older sister and playfully teasing/hinting that Selina is in love with Bruce, as much to her stubborness.

Pietro Maximoff x reader [MCU]

Imagine Wanda knowing how Pietro feels about you so she tries to talk him into asking you out on a date, because she knows you like him too.

Jonathan Crane x fem!reader [The Dark Knight Trilogy]

Imagine being Jonathan Crane’s girlfriend and you being the more observant, quiet type and you like watching what he is doing with his experiments than participating in them.

Peter Parker x reader [MCU]

Imagine getting kidnapped by Thanos, and your boyfriend Peter Parker rescuing you.

The Joker x reader [The Dark Knight Trilogy]

Imagine the Joker taking an interest in you at one of Bruce Wayne’s parties.

Thor Odinson + Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader [MCU]

Imagine Thor and Loki both falling in love with you, a stable girl at Asgard who looks after their horses.

Éomer x fem!reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine being Faramir’s sister and Éomer going to him to ask permission to court you.

Samwise Gamgee x reader [Lord of the Rings]

Imagine planting a tree with Sam on your wedding day, and watching it grow together over your long years of happy marriage.

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader [X-Men]

Imagine having a newborn child with Kurt, and your life as new parents.

Newt & reader [The Maze Runner]

Imagine Newt trying to help you feel comfortable as the new addition at the Glade when you come up in the Box.

Kurt Wagner x reader [X-Men]

Imagine being flexible and knowing gymnastics and showing off your skills to Kurt, who's amazed by them.

Sly Cooper & reader [Sly Cooper]

Imagine Sly cheering you up after you didn't do good on the field.

Max Mayfield & reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine being Max’s older sister who’s dating Steve, and supporting Max get through her depression by reminding her that Lucas and the rest of her friends love and care about her.

Eddie Munson x reader [Stranger Things]

Imagine making out in bed with Eddie.

Archie Hopper x reader [Once Upon A Time] @funkysora

Imagine Archie finding you upset when he's on a walk with Pongo and reassuring you he's not pretending to care about you.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine Kaz recruiting you to the Crows, but you refuse because you have cats to take care of in your apartment. (Might extend this so Kaz could make a compromise)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Kaz has a crush on the reader and the Crows try to get him to confess his feelings for her.

Rewrite of part 1 of “Hugging for the first time” with Kaz Brekker [Shadow and Bone]

The prompt + Kaz work better as a oneshot so rewriting it, the original is kinda cringy to me now XD

Rewrite of part 1 of “Bed sharing” with Kaz Brekker [Shadow and Bone]

My most popular Kaz fic but again, kinda cringy now when I know more about Kaz and I want to rewrite it because I’m a basic bitch and love one bed trope…

Kaz Brekker x fem!Starkov!reader [Shadow and Bone]

The reader is Alina’s older sister and a very powerful witch, but only Alina and Mal know about it. The Darkling tries to manipulate her into his schemes but after the Crows kidnap her, Kaz finds himself developing a deep attachment for her. (Might alter the idea a bit because the original request is a bit messy)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @marvel-sixofcrows

You are slowly left out from the heists, and you don't know why. One day, you fight with Kaz about it and decide to leave the Dregs. You just didn’t think what would follow from you leaving…

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @system-to-the-madness

A heist mid-winter near the docks was already something that made things freezing, but you would have rather skipped the ice bath dip. At least you thought so, before your boss showed you his rare piece of affection…

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Based on these headcanons.

Benny Watts x reader [The Queen's Gambit] @col0rlord

You're gambling at a casino where Benny attends a chess tournament and he's impressed to see how much money you win.

Morpheus x fem!reader [The Sandman]

You're suffering from depression, your child happens to get Morpheus's attention while dreaming and it results in Morpheus attempting to help you.

Sherlock Holmes x reader [Enola Holmes]

Imagine Enola and John Watson playing matchmaker for you and Sherlock, when you’re both too stubborn to admit your romantic feelings for each other

Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader [Narnia]

Imagine being Lilliandil’s sister and Edmund falling in love with you

August Booth x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine buying August a new typewriter for his birthday

August Booth x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine August teaching you how to ride his motorbike

Killian Hook x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine Hook/Killian/Detective Rogers desperately trying to find you after Mother Gothenburg kidnaps you, and him comforting you afterwards, when you’re saved

Peter Pan x reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine meeting ex lover Pan again in the underworld and he convinces you to help him get out

Peter Pan x fem!reader [Once Upon A Time]

Imagine being Hook’s daughter on Neverland and somehow ending up being the lost boy’s mother instead of their enemy, in which Pan falls in love with you

Mr. Tumnus x reader [Narnia]

You're friends with the Pevensies (another war orphan the Professor too in) and go with them to Narnia, you're kind to Tumnus and it results in him falling for you.

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone] @trfanglophile

Opening up about your asexuality to Kaz.

Kate McCallister x fem!reader [Home Alone] @multifandomfix

Kate loses Kevin again at a shopping mall and panics, but you step in to help her.

Pin Hawthorne x Phillips!fem!reader [Free Rein]

When Raven goes missing, Zoe pushes you and Pin find him, telling you she's too busy. Something tells you there's something more to it though.

H2O: Just Add Water gang & reader

When you strand ashore after a storm, you're terrified to be seen by humans - and just your luck, there's four humans standing around you when you wake up. But your misfortune turns out being luck after all.

Pin Hawthorne x fem!reader [Free Rein]

When Pin is sick, you step up to help Arthur in healing him.

Ellis x fem!reader [The Convent]

When demon-turned-Catherine tries to kill Ellis, you decide you won't let it happen.

Rupert Travis x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

Rupert being jealous of you and gets insecure.

Connor x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

Connor being jealous of you when your colleague at the precinct and gets overprotective over you.

Markus x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

Markus being jealous of you when Leo flirts with you.

Rupert Travis x reader [Detroit: Become Human]

You meet Rupert and end up helping him after discovering he's an android. He's distrustful of you at first but then slowly warms up.

Wylan Van Eck & reader [Shadow and Bone]

You're his sister who finds out he's working for Kaz Brekker after months of searching for him.

Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @hotforloki

You bring Aleksander back from the dead because you need his help for a plan you have to destroy your enemy. (Note for the requester: "vague evil plans" + a oneshot request don't match as a oneshot is meant to be a longer piece, so I made up a scenario, sorry if that's something you don't like)

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Nikolai was in love with you when he was a teenager, a servant Grisha at the palace, but you ran away when you had problems with the king. Years later, he meets you again and realises he never stopped loving you.

Nina Zenik x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Imagine having a panic/anxiety attack and Nina Zenik comforting you and calming you through it

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Kaz saving you from ending up in crossfire.

Lance Sweets x reader [Bones] @number-0-iz

An AU where he survives.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @eiandreia

You're both powerful gang leaders and natural enemies because of that, but when you save Kaz during a heist you ended up together, your feelings for each other shift.

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x goddess!reader [The Sandman] @lovingclare

You and Morpheus had this casual relationship for centuries, occassionally using each other purely for pleasure, but then Morpheus realises he has fallen in love with you. You reject him, which ended in Morpheus banishing you from his palace and disappearing completely. A century later, he comes back... and has a new view on things. But can you forgive him?

Luke Patterson x Molina!fem!reader [Julie and the Phantoms]

Being Julie's sister wasn't always glamourous, seeing Carrie was pouring her frustration towards Julie's success on you. But when you show up to the garage with bruises after you refuse from stealing one of the songs Luke wrote for Julie, the boys get concerned and decide to teach Carrie a lesson.

Luke Patterson x reader [Julie and the Phantoms]

Luke and you pretend being a couple for your upcoming album, but then you realise there's a seed of truth to your lies...

Rachel Roth x reader + Jason Todd & reader [Titans] @hikaru1188

Jason gets a sniff on how you feel about Rachel, and that results in an awkward situation.

Jack Dawson x fem!reader [Titanic]

You see how Jack and Rose become friends, and after befriending Rose too, you wonder if she would be better fit for Jack. But fortunately, he's there to make you feel better.

Markus x fem!reader [Detroit: Become Human] @n-nubxs

Having feelings for your uncle's android caretaker is unfortunate. When you think he's out shopping for groceries, you decide to relieve your pain and sing a song you composed about your feelings - but you have certain someone listening in.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @cant-help-simping

Your compulsive lip picking when you're stressed or anxious has been a problem for a long time, and now at your new workplace at the Crow Club, you're worried your strict boss has something not-so-nice to say about it.

Sitara Dhawan & sibling!reader [Watch Dogs]

Having Sitara as your big sister wasn't always fun, especially when you also joined DedSec against her wishes. You know she's just worried for your safety, but... sometimes you wish she'd let up. But her worries become reality one night when you decide to take on a mission by yourself by sneaking out.

Rey Skywalker & sibling!reader [Star Wars]

Having a literal war hero as your sibling definitely doesn't help your depression - you feel smaller, more insignificant than ever before. But fortunately she's also the best comforter when you feel that way.

MJ x reader [MCU]

When MJ finds you crying and bruised in the closet, she demands to know what happened. You confess you're being bullied after months of trying to hide it, and fortunately she has the right person to solve the situation.

Morpheus x fem!Burgess!reader [The Sandman] @kpopgirlbtssvt

Your grandpa's always forbade you from visiting the basement ever since you were a child, but when you reach adulthood, curiousity gets the best of you. And what you find, completely turns everything you thought about your grandpa's upside down.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @lucien-calore

Seeing you sick, feeling you cold and clammy... rotten. Jordie. That was something Kaz didn't want to feel when touching you.

Kaz Brekker x reader [Shadow and Bone]

Kaz gets jealous when he sees you and Nikolai get close after you save his life and cuddle up to him.

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x fem!reader [The Sandman]

You think Morpheus doesn't like you so when a handsome, kind guy shows interest in you at a party, you end up kissing him. But when Morpheus sees it, it results in a serious talk and his feelings might not be as platonic as you thought.

Pin Hawthorne x reader [Free Rein] @alabamasweettea

Cute moments with Pin and you, budding romance.

Barley Lightfoot x reader [Onward] @cartoonykat

Having a movie night with Barley.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone] @thepoetsdiedatthislake

When Kaz manages to upset you once again, Nina dives in to scold Kaz. It takes a bit, but eventually Kaz agrees to try and apologise.

Jin Sakai x fem!reader [Ghost of Tsushima] @hufflepuff-girl-1996

You've been Jin's personal servant ever since you were both teenagers, and you've developed deep feelings for him since. When he comes back from the war, you're overjoyed - but also heartbroken when you see he has a woman with him.

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

You're just a servant whose employer's daughters managed to smuggle into a royal ball. And of course, the prince Nikolai himself catches your eye, and apparently the feeling is mutual. But you know he wouldn't accept a servant girl... right?

David Friedkin x reader [Masters of the Air] @mysoftboybensolo

Being assigned to nurse a wounded soldier back to health isn't an unusual task, but this one is a little trickier than others, especially when unexpected feelings start to emerge.

Daniel x reader [Detroit: Become Human] @lazysnitch

After a stressful day at work, you get a panic attack during a phone call with your roommate Daniel and he makes a beeline home from shopping groceries.

Aragon x fem!reader [Lord of the Rings] @camilaguayo6789-blog

You participate in the fellowship even though your boyfriend doesn't approve, but he knows he can't stop you. That doesn't stop him from taking care of you though.

Rachel Roth x reader [Titans] @hikaru1188

Rachel apologises for ignoring you.

Susan Pevensie x wife!reader [Narnia] @fairy-geek-ackerman

One night before bed, you spontaneously decide to dance together in your bedroom.

Enoch O'Connor x fem!reader [Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children]

Your mother took Miss Peregrine and the children into your loop with your own family, as she's very good friends with Miss Peregrine. You're not sure what to think of these strange, sometimes even scary, children, but then one of them gets interested in you when he hears about your experiments...

Wylan Van Eck x gn!reader [Shadow and Bone] @chaos-notclaire

Kaz pairing you up with Wylan was usually a pleasant thing as you get along so well, but heists were a different thing, as your feelings for the merchling distracted you a lot. And when you almost get caught by a guard, Wylan does something you don't expect.

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Late night talks with Kaz while he works are fun, but this night the discussion turns into something deeper. And on a quiet moment, you drift off, which makes Kaz want to do something he has to psych himself for.

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader [Shadow and Bone]

When there's a violent outburst between Grisha and Otkazat'sya and Nikolai fails to contain it, you need to do a sacrifice you don't know you can recover from.

Raven Reyes x fem!reader [The 100]

You and Raven are totally into each other, everyone sees it — except for you two. When Raven starts acting weird after seeing you and Emori spending a lot of time together, you try to get closer to her again, and that eventually makes you blurt out something you don't mean to.

Hank McCoy x fem!reader [X-Men] @thatonehotguy15

A figure skater's worst nightmare is falling on ice and ending up with a sprained ankle, but fortunately you have Hank helping you when you struggle.

Kurt Wagner x gn!reader [X-Men] @animegirlfromvietnam

The Christmas party concludes in a special way when you give Kurt a gift under the mistletoe.

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!reader [Shadow and Bone]

Your childhood friend Nikolai is marrying your sister of all people to settle years of dispute between your families, so when a forbidden romance starts to bloom between you, things get difficult.

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 11 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

WC: 3.3k

AN: Yall I'm so sorry this took ages to be updated, my laptop screen broke and the repair place had to wait over a week for a new one, I hope the end of this part makes up for it <3 Parts will also be slower to come out as I'm starting my next semester of uni on Monday and that's going to take up a large chunk of my time, but I'm still going to try and put out a new part at least once a week

Spotify

Part 1 Part 12 (coming soon) Masterlist

Friday arrived far too quickly for Frankie’s liking. So quickly he had gotten himself into a routine of being with you, and it felt like it was being ripped away from him. Of course, he knew that it would happen, he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking it wouldn’t, but still . . . still he had grown so used to your presence that when it was finally time to “get your shit from that ugly ass motherfucker” (Will’s words, not his), he felt almost depressed.

You were perched on his couch when he woke up late Friday morning, a cup of steaming coffee clutched in your hand, your gaze fixed absently on a point on the wall. He called your name gently, not wanting to scare you. You blinked a couple times, as if coming out of a trance. He knew the look well.

“Didn’t sleep?” he poured himself a cup and sat down next to you. You shook your head.

“Not great. I think an hour, maybe. But like, really shitty sleep.”

“Not fully asleep but not fully awake?” Frankie suggested, having become very accustomed to the feeling during his military time. You nodded, giving him a tired smile. He understood your exhaustion. You had spent every waking moment stressed about the move, online shopping to replace the things that you were leaving at Kurt’s, and then stressing some more. You had picked up the keys on Wednesday and Frankie had gone with you to check the place out.

It was a bright, airy place, seven floors up with huge windows and a tiny balcony off the living area. Frankie had noticed your eyes shining as you took it all in, almost like you couldn’t believe it was yours. You had wiped away a tear, taking in the view of the lake by the apartment complex.

Frankie had come with his measuring tape and notebook from his mechanic days. He measured each room, each alcove where a piece of furniture would sit, and wrote them down diligently with a messy scrawl on a page labelled with your name.

When you had gotten back to his place, you set to work writing down a list of what was yours and what you needed to replace. At the top of that list was a bed, heavily underlined and circled.

“The bed’s mine, technically,” you explained as you clicked on a display photo of a wrought iron bed frame, “but he can keep it. I want a fresh start, and I think I need a new bed to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Frankie said sitting down beside you, “is that the one you’re going with?”

You had nodded, clicking add to cart. The store had next day delivery, and for a small fee would even build the bed for you. You opted for this, despite Frankie’s protests.

“Please, you’re doing so much already, and putting my whole bed together for me . . . it feels like a very unfair trade,” you told him firmly. Once again, your stubbornness had won over. Frankie, rather grudgingly, had to admit to himself that the delivery people were much quicker than he would’ve been at assembling the bed frame, especially after he had taken a quick look at the instructions.

He wasn’t about to tell you that though.

It was almost midday when a knock sounded on his door, followed by the three men he called brothers piling into his kitchen. You emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and a shy smile on your face. It struck Frankie that this was the first time you were meeting these guys, truly meeting them without the inclusion of alcohol.

“You’re all really excellent for helping me with this,” you said fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. You had opted for long sleeves throughout the whole week. “Sorry you have to give up your Friday for this.”

Benny was the first one to make a move. He strode forward and enveloped you in a tight hug. Frankie could see the initial shock on your face before it was replaced by a hesitant kind of happiness.

“You like Taylor Swift?” he asked, and you nodded. Benny craned his neck to look at Frankie. “She’s riding with me, if that’s okay?” he turned back to you and you nodded again. Benny grinned and whispered something in your ear, causing you to snort out a laugh.

Santi stood beside Frankie and pressed an envelope into his hands.

“The photo,” he explained. “Again, remember I have several copies, so if you plan on destroying this one, imagine it like a hydra.” Frankie rolled his eyes and put the envelope in his back pocket. You were too busy chatting with Benny and Will to notice, and he was glad. He wanted to surprise you with the photo when you needed it.

Benny and Will had taken a particular soft spot for you since Frankie gave them the bare-bones rundown of how Kurt had treated you. Frankie noticed it now, in how Will stood like your own personal bodyguard, in how Benny had slung his arm around your shoulders, like you were old friends. Frankie felt the briefest flash of jealousy before he stamped it down. Just because he couldn’t – wouldn’t – touch you, didn’t mean no one else could.

“Quit staring Fish, you look like one of those cartoon characters whose eyes turn to hearts,” Santi muttered, elbowing Frankie in the ribs. Frankie elbowed him back, annoyed.

“Alright, gang! Let’s get this show on the road!” Will clapped his hands together. Benny raised an incredulous brow at his brother.

“What are you, fifty?” He turned to you, linking his arm through yours. “Don’t worry, Fish, I’ll drive extra carefully.”

Frankie felt envious of Benny then, even though he had basically had a week straight with you. But knowing it was coming to an end, that tonight you’d be sleeping at your own place, instead of just down the hall. Well, it made him almost sad. He pushed that aside though and forced himself to be happy for you.

As he drove to your old apartment, everyone else following behind, he focused a little too hard on the radio, just to give his mind something to do. A newsreader was talking about how a quick-thinking pilot had landed a plane in a field after something went horrifically wrong with the engines. Zero casualties, minor injuries. People were already calling for the pilot to be given a medal.

Maybe I should renew my licence, Frankie thought. He didn’t want to be a commercial pilot, or a hero of any kind, although the uniforms were nice. But it couldn’t hurt to have it.

He pulled up outside the building, gripping the steering wheel tightly. This was it.

Will and Santi parked behind him, but Benny’s ridiculously lifted pickup was nowhere to be seen. Frankie squinted towards the end of the street, knowing he couldn’t have gotten lost. He had you with him.

Ten minutes passed with no sign of you. “Where the fuck are they?” Frankie grumbled, now worried that you and Benny had gotten into a car accident. He trusted him, but Benny was the worst driver of all of them. He pulled out his phone to text you but was interrupted.

“That’s his truck,” Will said, pointing to the end of the street, where Benny’s truck had just pulled in. The sound of heavy bass reached them before the truck did. As Benny pulled up outside the apartment, Frankie recognised the song as Gimme More by Britney Spears.

“Sorry we’re late,” you called, clambering out of the truck, a tall plastic cup in your hand. “We stopped for frappes.” Benny sipped innocently at his, giving Frankie a look that said he needed to speak with him.

“Where’s my fuckin’ frappe,” Santi grumbled, looking envious. Benny grinned and handed his over to Santi for a sip.

You stood, looking up at the building, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Guess we better go up. I sent him a text telling him I was doing this today, but he didn’t reply, so I don’t know if he’ll be here.”

“Want us to jump him if he is?” Benny offered, but you shook your head.

“Not right away,” you said, “but if he starts up maybe slap him around a little.” Frankie knew you were joking, but the look in your eyes was one of fear. He took your hand gently and lowered his head to talk to you.

“You can wait out here if you want,” he murmured, “we’ve got the list of what we need to get.” You squeezed his hand and shook your head. Yours was cold and slightly clammy in his own, but he didn’t mind.

“No, I need to do this.” You said. Frankie nodded, understanding. You didn’t need to explain the nitty gritty of your reasoning, all he needed was for you to know that you had him, in whatever way you needed.

You kept a firm grip on his hand as you lead the way upstairs to your old apartment, only letting go when you stood outside the front door, fumbling in your bag for your keys.

At first, the apartment seemed empty of life. All the lights were off, the curtains closed, and the place was eerily silent. You stepped over the threshold, followed by the rest of the boys, who immediately got to work.

As it turned out, Kurt wasn’t there. He remained gone for a good half hour while the boys carried your heavier shit down to their trucks. You set to work stuffing the rest of your clothes into plastic trash bags you had picked up from the grocery store.

Benny joined Frankie in carrying a loveseat downstairs.

“Fish, I need to tell ya,” Benny started, grunting as they made a turn. “She’s as into you as you are her.” Frankie shook his head.

“Don’t do this, man.”

“I’m being serious. I talked to her in the truck. She didn’t say it outright, but you should’a seen the look on her face when I talked about you.” Benny waggled his eyebrows. “And her friend Sara agrees, she’s ‘smitten’ with you. Whatever the fuck smitten means. If you want my advice-”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“-Go for it. Tonight, once we’re all gone. Shoot your shot my guy. Don’t waste anymore fucking time. Sara said she wasn’t even sad about the breakup, like she’s been checked out mentally for months now.”

“Wait, did Sara tell you about me punching Kurt?”

“All I’m saying is, she likes you a lot, you like her a lot, don’t waste this.” Frankie mulled over what Benny was saying. There had been more than a few moments that week when he had spied you looking at him and wondered . . . but each time he had pushed the thought out his head. Old insecurities, respect for you, held him back.

Historically, Frankie had never been very good at telling when someone was into him. He could be literally balls deep and he’d still be questioning it. Even sometimes with Portia, he’d wonder if she really felt the same way he did. Santi, who knew Frankie as a kid, chalked it up to Frankie having a rough go of puberty, not growing into his features until almost the end of high school. By then, whenever someone had showed even a slight bit of interest, Frankie had dismissed it as a cruel joke. Unfortunately, those insecurities had followed him deep into adulthood.

The mood in the apartment had become relaxed, all the heavier stuff, like your couch, TV, furniture, and fridge had been taken care of, and now all that was left was to gather all the small shit. Frankie found you in the bathroom, unscrewing the shower head. You tossed it into a box filled with other bathroom items, the loud clang making him grimace. He opened his mouth to speak to you when yelling from the front room interrupted him.

Your face fell instantly, going from focused to almost afraid. Your eyes met Frankie’s own, and he reached out to touch your arm. It’s okay the touch said, he can’t do anything to you. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and walked out with Frankie to the commotion.

Kurt was being held back with a single hand on his chest by a bored looking Will, screaming a string of expletives and struggling to land any kind of hit on Will, Santi stood behind Kurt, ready to jump in if needed. Benny was hunched over, clutching his sides in laughter. Kurt finally caught sight of you, standing a little in front of Frankie.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?” His tone made you wince slightly, but Frankie was proud of the way you didn’t shrink away.

“I told you this was happening today, Kurtis, it was your choice to come back while we were here,” you said calmly.

“You’re taking all my shit!”

“I paid for every single thing I’m taking,” you said. “It’s not my fault you never put anything of monetary value into this place.” You stepped forward, so you were facing Kurt head on, but still behind Will. “You need to calm down, you’re acting like a fucking child.”

“I’M ACTING LIKE A CHILD?”

“Yes. You are. You’ve acted like one almost our entire relationship. So you can either calm down, leave and come back later, or my friends will force you to calm down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Kurt spat.

“Yes. You’ve already been smacked down before, any one of these guys would love to be the one to do it again.”

“I’d like to see them fucking try!” Kurt pivoted and lunged at Benny. Big mistake. With a simple, yet effective, punch to the head, Kurt was out cold on the floor. Benny looked up, almost apologetic. You grinned at him, silent laughter shaking your shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to hit that hard,” Benny said, flexing his fist. “But I also did.”

Santi dragged Kurt’s unconscious body to the now empty living room, carefully posing him so he was curled in the foetal position, sucking on his thumb.

“He actually arrived at the perfect time,” you said to Frankie, standing back beside him. “Cause we’re done here.”

“We’ve got everything?” Santi called, overhearing you. You nodded.

“We’re finally done here.”

~*~

Frankie was glad you had decided to ride with him back to your new place. You were buzzing with a new energy, unable to keep a nervous grin off your face. You didn’t speak on the drive to your new place, but Frankie hoped he wasn’t reading into how much closer you sat, your thighs almost brushing his. Benny had gotten into his head, he knew, and now he couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation.

You were the most beautiful person he had met, both inside and out, and the very idea that you could like him the way he liked you . . . well fuck, it didn’t seem feasible. But then he thought back to the previous week spent with you, and maybe it wasn’t such a ludicrous idea after all.

He pulled up at your new building, parking in the spot designated for you. You turned to him, unlatching your seatbelt as you did.

“Frankie . . .” you started, then leant over and pulled him into a tight hug. Frankie felt like everything you wanted to say was in that hug. You pulled back slightly, so your faces were almost touching. He could’ve done it then, he fucking should have done it. Crossed that miniscule amount of space between you. But then the moment passed, and you pulled away entirely.

You climbed out of the truck, moving to the back to grab some of the garbage bags that held the smaller stuff. Frankie’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, a message from Will in the group chat.

Ironhead: Pussy

Frankie turned and saw Will staring at him. Fuck offhe mouthed. Will flipped him off with a grin. The effort of getting all your stuff up to your new place was considerably easier than it had been the first time around. For one, your new place had an elevator. So even though they had to take turns using it, it was worlds above struggling up seven flights of stairs. The mood was also improved by the fact Will had knocked Kurt out cold. Frankie had begun to wonder if that had become the main highlight of your day.

It was well into the night by the time everything was in its new place. Benny and Will flopped down onto your loveseat, drinking beers that you had kept in an ice chest you had brought in yesterday just for this. You sat on the floor, drinking a fruity vodka thing that Frankie thought looked and smelt like a melted popsicle. The balcony door was open, a breeze that held the promise of summer drifted through.

“Where’s Santi?” You asked looking around.

“He had to get something from the truck,” Will said. As if on cue, which if Frankie knew these boys as well as he did, it was, Santi burst through the door, one arm stretched wide, the other behind his back.

“My dearest,” Santi began, and Frankie groaned inwardly, “over this past day, the gentlemen and I have grown quite fond of you.” What is this, regency England? Frankie rolled his eyes and took a sip of his beer. “And as such, we wanted to present you with a housewarming gift.” With that, he whipped his arm around and held out a vase of sunflowers. Your face softened, then broke into a grin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you pushed yourself up and pulled Santi into a hug, motioning for Will and Benny to join. You hugged the three men as tight as you could, smiling at Frankie over the tops of their shoulders. Frankie smiled back, raising his beer in a silent toast.

You placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, facing them toward the window. It was just past ten when the three boys left, Benny carrying the ice chest along with the promise to bring it back as soon as he could. It seemed like it was only moments before only you and Frankie remained.

Frankie’s phone buzzed.

Benny: Don’t fuck this up.

Frankie saw you move outside onto the balcony, leaning against the railing, silhouetted by silver moonlight, your face turned towards the breeze that coasted off the lake. Everyone else was gone, and he wondered if he didn’t take this chance, would he ever?

He moved to stand next to you, standing so close your arms were touching. His heart felt like it was caught in his throat. He murmured your name.

“Frankie,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of his beating heart. Before he could stop himself, chicken out like he had before, he closed the distance between you. One hand cupping your warm cheek, the other encircling your waist, he tilted his head down until his lips met yours.

It was everything.

Your lips were soft against his, hesitant at first, but then you were wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. You tasted like candy and those sugary drinks you insisted on bringing. Your touch was like tiny jolts of electricity shooting down his spine.

Fuck.

His tongue darted against your bottom lip, and you let him in almost hungrily. Frankie deepened the kiss, wondering just why the everloving fuck he waited this long.

He whispered your name, the word like poetry on his lips. You were poetry, you were art, you were every beautiful thing wrapped up into one person. He was in love with you.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki @procrastinationstationnation

[blueeyedheizer]

together - warren worthington III

REQUEST: "reader has a super strength/metal skeleton mutation because she was in the lab as Wolverine, then she and Warren get close at the school because they both have terrible pasts and they get together and help each other through and become known as some of the best X-men and they’re so good because they love each other so much..."

WARNINGS: mentions of violence

A/N: had to take some liberties with the request because I don't have enough X-Men knowledge to give it proper justice. I honestly don't really like how this came out and the horrible headache I currently have doesn't help, but I tried my best!

•••

When you first joined Charles Xaviers' school for mutants you were at your lowest point, the concept of happiness was something you never thought you'd ever be familiar with.

The day your parents found out about your mutation, they immediately kicked you out of the house. Well, your father did. When you left home, you mother was crying and pleading for your dad to be understanding, saying that it wasn't that bad and that it could've been a worst mutation. You could easily pass as a regular human being. But the man saw things differently. You were a monster, no longer worth of a roof to live under, no longer worth of love and protection. You hugged your mom goodbye and left without a word, knowing it was better not to start a fight.

You wandered in the streets for a little while, using your savings to buy yourself the minimum you needed to survive.

That was until you were caught and put in a cage to fight against Warren Worthington III. He was far stronger than you were and although you had no broken bones by the end of the fight, you were left with deep bruises all over your body.

You weren't made for fighting. Your mutation was nothing but strengthened bones, there was nothing special about it. You had never been trained to use it to your advantage, so you really weren't stronger than the average when it came to fighting. You just happened to have extremely strong bones. If anything, the burden was even more exhausting.

A few days following the events, when he was himself in search of a shelter, Warren found you almost dead on a poor excuse of a mattress, tears soaking your cheeks as you barely managed to breathe. Your limbs were barely responding, you felt like your body was weighing ten times its weight and your metal bones weren't helping. To say you were absolutely terrified when you saw him would be an understatement. He had showed no mercy during the fight, so when he tried to pick you up, you used the last of your strength to kick him as hard as you could, which earned you a string of curses from him. He was close to giving up on you, but your cries and whines of pain forced him to walk back to you when he was about to step out the door and disappear from your life forever.

The two of you stayed hidden in that small abandoned basement for a few months until Kurt eventually found you. You were in a better shape, but you were far from being completely recovered, especially not mentally. But although Warren hated the idea of having to share a place to live with someone (and he was constantly being a pain in the ass about it), he always made the effort to go out and look for food for the both of you and always made sure you were safe. You owed him everything.

And just like that, you were both under Charles Xavier's protection. Surprisingly, you and Warren parted ways as soon as you joined the School. You quickly fit in with everyone and had a close group of friends meanwhile Warren insisted on staying alone. He had his own dorm and never ate breakfast with everyone else. A few people had tried to approach him, but he wouldn't let anyone get close. You were dying to see him and talk to him again, but you weren't sure if the feeling was mutual.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Jean asks, picking into her plate before bringing the fork to her mouth.

"What?"

"Warren. You're thinking about him. Have you tried talking to him?" she repeats and you shrug.

"I tried the first couple of days."

"Why don't you try again? I'm sure he'd be happy to see you again."

"I don't know. He wasn't really fond of sharing a place to live, so I doubt he misses me so much." you chuckle.

"But you miss him."

"Yeah. Kind of." you chuckled while nodding before looking over your shoulder, discreetly looking at Warren. "He's a good guy, you know." you admit. "He doesn't give off the best vibes when you don't know him, but he's got a big heart."

--

Jean's pep talk about how you should try and get in touch with him again made you realize how much you actually missed him. So that night, you decided to sneak out of your dorm and pay him a visit.

Taking a deep breath you raised your hand, letting it hover over the door for a moment. Deciding that it was too late to change your mind you eventually let your hand hit the wooden surface, giving it three knocks.

No answer.

You tried again, more firmly this time.

"Piss off."

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. It'd been so long. You tried to suppress a smile as you came to the conclusion that he really hadn't changed since the last time you spoke. He really wasn't interested in having company.

"It's me, Warren." you tried, leaning your ear against the door to hear better, but all you heard after that was silence.

Defeated, you were ready to retire back to your room until you were stopped by the sound of the door unlocking and cracking open slowly.

"What do you want?"

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"I miss you, Warren. We haven't spoken in what feels like an eternity and I just miss it. Our conversations, everything. I know you probably don't feel the same way but our late night talks meant a lot to me, and I just want to know how you're doing or at least—"

"Come in." he interrupted you.

That night, the two of you stayed up until 4 in the morning, just catching up and getting to know each other more than you already did. He didn't want to admit it, but Warren had missed you deeply as well.

You came back the day after, and sneaking into each other's dorm at night eventually became a routine for the two of you.

Your friends had noticed how close you had become, and you even often stayed with Warren instead of going out with them. One night, he told you all about his scars and how he got them, and you did the same with yours. You told him all about your family, how they kicked you out after finding out about your mutation, and the conversation ended with you crying on his shoulder and him promising to never let anyone or anything hurt you again.

The two of you became inseparable, always hanging out together, training together and always supporting each other during the hardest times. When you struggled to find a purpose to your mutation and started saying hurtful things about yourself, Warren was always there to remind you that it made you special, that you are one of the strongest people he knows and that you'd eventually learn to use your mutation, which you did.

Two years later, you've been sent on multiple missions together and everyone knows you as two of the school's most powerful mutants. Everyone admires you and the bond you have between one another. The newest mutants look up to you, and you're both more than happy to help when they need training.

The healing from the fear, hurt and rejection that you both went through takes time, but as long as you have each other, you know that everything will be okay.

→ feedbacks are more than welcome. Whether it's just a keyboard smash, an emoji or a single world, it's always appreciated and motivating. ♡

[daydreams-magic01]

Fear Street Masterlist

(Gifs aren’t mine, credit to the owners)

Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01​ .

Disclaimer: These are fanfictions, however, the scenarios, dialogue, etc are of mine creation. Please do not copy or plagiarise my work, my work should only be found on this blog, nowhere else. I have also tried my best at writing British, etc.

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I am open to suggestions, so if there are any other fandoms you want to see yo write for, feel welcome to ask on my ‘Request’ section. If you want to be added to a taglist, please do the same.

Sheriff Nick Goode

Female Reader

You murdered my sister