#mike munroe x reader

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢 Until Dawn males x male reader

Summary: Four standalone scenarios featuring each of the men from Until Dawn showing their protective side when you find yourself in danger. Each scenario exists in its own self-contained world, unconnected to the others.

Tags: He/Him pronouns used for the reader. Fluff and angst. Mike Munroe x male reader; Matt Taylor x male reader; Josh Washington x male reader; Chris Hartley x male reader. Set during the events of the game between chapter 5 and 6. All of these are separated and not connected. Established relationships. Kidnapping in Josh's scenario. Matt and Emily broke-up before the events of the game. Mike and Jess are not together in this.

This is a continuation of 𝒫𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔯𝔢𝔧𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 but you can also read this as a standalone without problems. There are 4 totems in each scenario. Just like how it happens in game, the characters don’t have reactions to the totems. The visions are something that could happen in an unknown future and something that I maybe could do as another fic, let me know <3.

Words counts: 9000 words (around 2000 for each character)

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ ℳ𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ

The sanatorium was deathly silent, save for the faint whistle of the wind sneaking through the cracks in the old, decrepit building. You huddled against the cold, your arms tightly wrapped around your torso as you tried, and failed, to stave off the biting chill that seemed to seep into your very bones. The room you were trapped in was small, suffocating even, with bars that reeked of rust and neglect enclosing you. The scent of mildew and decay filled the air, thick and oppressive.

This stranger brought you here with no explanation other than pointing the flamethrower he had at you and, when he shoved you inside this godforsaken room, he muttered only one thing.

"Wait here for dawn. Don't move."

And then he was gone, the gray and white wolf slipping through the shadows after him. No explanation. No reason. Just the sound of his boots echoing down the massive, empty hall until you were alone.

Completely alone.

Your eyes scanned the room for the hundredth time, looking for anything that could help. The cracked wall in the ceiling caught your attention again, but it was far too high to reach. The room was barren, offering no tools or furniture to elevate yourself.

Steeling yourself, you backed up a few steps as you prepared for what you were about to do. The cold had made your muscles stiff and every movement felt labored, but you ignored the discomfort. With a deep breath, you lunged forward, raising your foot and slamming it into the door with all the strength you could muster.

Pain shot up your leg, sharp and immediate, but you grit your teeth and pushed through it, slamming your foot against the door again. And again. And again.

You clenched your teeth, the desperation growing with every strike as the door barely budged, the rusty metal mocking your efforts as it groaned but held firm.

The pain in your foot was unbearable now, a throbbing ache that made it hard to stand. You stumbled back, gasping for breath as you pressed your back against the wall and slid to the ground.

"Fuck," you muttered, your head falling into your hands. The frustration and helplessness threatened to overwhelm you, a heavy weight settling in your chest. You felt like screaming, like punching the walls until your knuckles bled, but what good would it do?

Your breath came out in shaky puffs, visible in the icy air as you tried to calm yourself. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to conserve what little warmth you had left, but it felt futile.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against the wall as a shiver wracked your body.

Then, suddenly, the silence shattered.

A door somewhere in the hall creaked loudly before slamming open. Your head snapping up just in time to see a familiar figure illuminated faintly by the flickering glow of a lighter.

"Mike…" you breathed, your voice a soft whisper of disbelief.

It was him, no doubt about it. Even through the haze of dim light and your own tired mind. He was wearing the same white tank top he had been wearing earlier when the two of you had been curled up by the fire inside that small chalet, his warmth pressed against you. The fabric was dirty now, smeared with streaks of grime and small tears.

His arms were streaked with faint cuts, some fresh and red, others just beginning to clot. His face looked just as battered with dirt smeared across his jaw and forehead, tiny scratches marking his skin like a map.

You pushed yourself off the floor quickly, stumbling slightly as you moved toward the bars, your hands gripping the cold iron as you pressed yourself against them. The rusted smell overwhelmed you, but it didn't matter.

"Mike!" you called out louder now, your voice breaking with a mix of relief and desperation. "Mike, I'm here!"

His head snapped toward the sound of your voice, his lighter flickering wildly in the motion before he stuffed it into his pocket. His eyes widened when they landed on you, his whole body seeming to tense for a moment before he ran and crashed against the bars, pressing himself as close to you as they would allow, his body warm and solid as he hugged you tightly through the narrow gaps.

Both of his arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. He buried his face against the curve of your neck, his breaths ragged and warm against your skin as his grip tightened.

"God, you're okay," he muttered, voice low and raw.

Your chest ached at the sound of it, the vulnerability in his tone breaking through that cocky bravado he so often wore.

His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you firmly against him as his breath ghosted over your lips until he closed the distance, his lips crashing into yours with fervor.

You could taste the faint tang of salt and copper, his hand slid up your back, fingers pressing firmly against the curve of your spine as he held you close.

You kissed him back with equal intensity, your hands slipping up to his shoulders before one tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer. A low sound rumbled from his chest, almost a growl, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand moved from your waist, his fingers brushing against your jaw to tilt your face upward, deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, his chest was heaving and his eyes were heavy with unspoken emotion.

You lifted your arms shakily, reaching through the bars to pull him closer—only to freeze when your eyes caught sight of his left hand.

“Mike,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you stared at the poorly wrapped bandage that covered his fingers—or rather, where his fingers should have been. The fabric was soaked through with blood, painted a deep crimson. “What happened to your hand?”

He pulled back slightly, following your gaze to his injured hand. For a moment, his expression faltered, the pain flickering briefly across his face before he shook it off with a forced crooked grin.

“Ah, this?” he said, holding up his mangled hand like it was no big deal. “I got into a little argument with a bear trap. You can see how it ended.”

Your eyes widened in horror, but before you could speak, he leaned in closer, his tone softening as he continued talking. “Relax, though. The important stuff’s still intact.” He wiggled his remaining fingers with a mock flourish, then added with a wink, “Still got enough left to hold you, so we’re good, right?”

You let out a shaky breath, your concern still sharp but momentarily softened by his attempt to lighten the mood.

His hands left your waist only to grip the door tightly, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal as he yanked at it with all his strength.

"Come on, you piece of shit—“ Mike grunted, his teeth gritted as he pulled harder. The door groaned under his effort but barely budged.

"Mike—Mike, stop," you interrupted, stepping back slightly. He paused to look at you, panting, his face red and streaked with sweat.

"It opens from this side," you explained quickly. "I already tried everything." Your foot throbbing faintly as you remembered your earlier attempts.

Mike swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair as his gaze flicked upward, scanning the room until they focused on the big crack in the ceiling above you.

"Stay put, babe. Don't go anywhere," he said suddenly, his voice taking on a teasing tone as he stepped back.

You scoffed lightly despite yourself, your lips twitching into a faint smile.

He grinned, that familiar cocky smirk lighting up his face even through the dirt and exhaustion as he turned and jogged toward the far side of the hall, where a set of stairs led to an upper level of the sanatorium.

Seconds later, there was a loud grunt, followed by the sound of something hitting the ground. You looked up just in time to see him drop through the crack in the ceiling, landing with a thud a few feet away. He winced slightly but straightened almost immediately, his gaze locking onto yours as he crossed the room in just a few strides.

Bug and warm arms were around you again, pulling you tightly against him. His face pressed against your shoulder for a moment before he leaned back, just enough to look at you properly.

"I saw you," he murmured softly, his voice rough and low near your ear. "I saw that guy dragging you up here, and I just—" His hands tighten slightly on your waist as if grounding himself. "I ran through the woods like a goddamn lunatic trying to find you…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

"If I see that man again, he's dead. I mean it."

Your heart squeezed painfully at his words. You reached up slowly, brushing your fingers against his cheek. The dirt on his skin smeared slightly under your touch and you gave him a small, teasing smile. "You really ran all the way here? In the snow? With barely anything on?"

Mike’s lips curved into a faint smirk, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and exhaustion. “What, you think I was gonna just chill out? Cardio’s not optional when you’re trying to save someone’s ass.” His voice was light, but there was a raw intensity in his gaze, betraying just how far he’d go for you.

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek to wipe away some of the dirt smudged there.

"Let’s get out of here," you said quietly, your voice laced with affection and determination.

Mike huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against your face as he leaned in closer.

"Absolutely." He muttered, his tone softer now.

The sound of boots against rusted metal reverberated in the room as you and Mike took turns slamming your feet into the stubborn door. Each kick sent vibrations up your leg, the pain from earlier attempts flaring with every impact.

Finally, the door gave way with a metallic shriek. The rusted frame buckled and the door collapsed onto the ground with a loud clang.

Mike was on you immediately, one arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. "Stay with me," he murmured, his voice low but firm. He pressed a kiss to your temple, quick and reassuring, before taking your hand in his and guiding you forward.

The air outside the room was colder due to the numerous cracks on the walls. The oppressive silence was punctuated only by the faint drip of water leaking from unseen cracks and the groaning protests of the building's ancient infrastructure.

"I’ll take you from where I entered," Mike said over his shoulder, his voice tight as his eyes darted around.

You nodded, following him closely, though every creak of the floor beneath your steps and every distant rustle made your pulse quicken. Peeling paint flaked off the walls like dead skin, revealing rotted wood and rusting steel beneath. The windows were long shattered and the air smelled damp, heavy with mold.

As you made your way through the main hall, a screech pierced the silence. It was distant, echoing from somewhere deeper in the building, but its inhuman quality made your blood run cold.

Mike stopped immediately, his body stiffening. "You heard that too, right?" he whispered, turning his head slightly. He didn't wait for your answer. His grip on your hand tightened briefly before he let go and stepped forward, scanning the room ahead. "Stay here," he said firmly. "I'll check it out."

You were about to protest but he was already pushing open the door to an adjoining room. The door groaned on its hinges before it closed behind him, leaving you alone in the hallway.

Your heart pounded as you strained to hear over the faint whistle of the wind. Something on the floor caught your eye.

Half-buried beneath a pile of debris lay a carved object, its strange shape just visible through the dust and rubble.

You crouched down, hesitating for only a moment before brushing aside the grime and pulling the object free. It was heavier than it looked, the weight solid and cold in your hand. Smooth in some places, splintered in others, as though time itself had tried to erase its details.

The moment you turned it over, the air thickened, the walls around you darkening until they melted away.

You and Mike were running through the hallway. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as you limped, struggling to keep pace with him.

Mike reached a heavy metallic door, yanking it open with all his strength. his free hand reaching for you as he shouted, waving you forward urgently.

You stumbled inside, your entire body burning with exhaustion. Mike instantly slammed the door shut behind you with a loud, reverberating clang.

And then a grotesque hand, twisted and unnaturally sharp, shot through the broken window of the door before it could fully seal. You barely registered the flash of movement before it swiped across your throat in a sickening arc.

A warm, wet sensation spread down your neck and Mike's face twisted from relief to raw, primal horror.

Your body buckled, falling forward and getting caught in his arms.

"No, no, no, no—“ His voice cracked, the desperation was painful to hear. Blood poured over his hands as he pressed one against your neck, his fingers trembling as he tried to stop it. Tears streaked through the dirt and grime on his face as he shook you gently, his breaths ragged and breaking.

𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

The sanatorium was like a maze of nightmares. You and Mike moved quickly but cautiously, your footsteps echoing faintly as you descended the stairs to reach the back of the place from where Mike had entered. The lighter flickered in his hand, casting faint, jumping shadows across the walls.

"Almost there," Mike whispered, glancing back at you. His free hand hovered near yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his fingertips. "Just keep close to me, alright?"

You nodded, your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes darted warily around the darkened corners. Something about it felt wrong, as if you were being watched.

Mike was ahead of you, lighter held high, his head snapping from side to side as he checked the place carefully. His entire body was tense, every muscle coiled like a spring, ready to snap at the first sign of trouble.

You gripped the railing tightly as you took another step, the cold seeping into your fingertips.

A low growl echoed from somewhere close, so sudden and guttural that it made your heart slam into your ribs.

A flash of gray shot out of a hidden passage beside the staircase. The gray wolf that had been with the flamethrower man snarled as it lunged, teeth sinking into your leg, forcing a strangled gasp from your throat as you stumbled backward. The wolf growled, its grip unyielding as it threatened to pull you to the ground.

The bite burned, sharp and immediate as blood quickly began soaking into the fabric of your pants. You tried to shake the wolf off, its teeth locked in like a vice.

"Hey!” Mike's voice roared through the space, cutting through your pain. His footsteps thundered as he ran back toward you.

"Get off him!"

Mike kicked at the wolf's side with all his strength, the impact making the creature stumble back with a growl. The wolf snarled, baring its teeth at Mike. He positioned himself between you and the animal, holding out an arm to keep you behind him as he shouted again and raised his arms to look threatening to the wolf.

"Go on! Get outta here!"

The wolf hesitated, growling lowly, its ears pinned flat against its head. But it soon turned and bolted back into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

Mike immediately turned to you, his face pale with worry. "You okay?"

You groaned, trying to stand upright as you grabbed at the stair railing for balance. "It's not that bad."

Mike crouched down slightly, his hands gripping your arms tightly as his gaze dropped to your leg. His lips thinned when he saw the blood seeping through your pant leg. He glared up at you, his face taut with frustration. “Not that bad? Jesus, you're bleeding."

He grabbed your hand to haul you up. "Come on, we've gotta move.”

You struggled to stand, your leg barely able to bear your weight. Mike tightened his grip on you instantly, keeping you upright. "Lean on me," he said, his voice softer now but no less firm.

Each step was agony, but Mike was relentless, his arm never wavering as he practically dragged you down the hall.

The distant growls echoed behind you, they were becoming closer the longer time went by. Was it still the wolf? How could it move so fast and loudly at the same time? You wanted to take a look behind you but it was impossible to do without slowing down Mike in the process.

"Screw this," he muttered under his breath. Before you could protest, he turned and scooped you up into his arms, holding you bridal style like it was nothing.

"Mike—"

"Don't even start," he interrupted, his tone clipped as he was now free to run. "I'm not letting you hobble around while Cujo's out for blood."

You opened your mouth to argue but shut it again when you heard a screech from behind you and him.

Whatever was behind, it was definitely not a wolf.

His heart was hammering beneath your hand, but his grip on you never faltered. You curled your arms around his neck, letting yourself lean into his warmth as he ran.

Mike didn't stop until he reached the door he'd entered through. With a grunt, he kicked it open, the metal slamming against the wall as he set you down as gently as time allowed, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, your chest heaving from exertion and fear.

The heavy door swung shut behind you. Mike leaned against it for a moment, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Your hands instinctively went to the bite, pressing against the torn fabric of your pants. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and sticky, but as you inspected the wound, you realized it wasn't as deep as it had felt. Painful, yes, but not life-threatening.

"You okay?" Mike's voice was soft but urgent as he crouched in front of you, his hands hovering near your leg. His eyes were dark with worry, his earlier bravado replaced by something more vulnerable. "Let me see."

"Just hurts like hell," you reassured him, though your voice was shaky.

Mike exhaled sharply, his relief visible as he glanced back toward the door. "Stupid fucking dog," he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. Turning away for a moment, he rifled through the room as something caught his eyes while you let your muscles relax.

A moment later, he returned with an old, green jacket in his hands. The fabric was worn and frayed in places, but it looked decently warm. He held it out to you, his expression softening slightly.

"Here," he said, his voice quiet. "Put this on. You're freezing."

You shook your head immediately, pushing the jacket back toward him. "You need it more than I do."

"Don’t start," he said, his tone firm but not unkind while shoving the jacket toward you again. "Just put it on."

You crossed your arms stubbornly. "I said no. I'm fine. You're the one who's been running around in the cold."

Mike stared at you for a long moment before cursing under his breath as he slipped the jacket on himself. "Fine. Fine. Are you happy now?" he grumbled, his tone dripping with offense.

You hummed softly, fighting the grin tugging at your lips as you reached forward and straightened the collar of the jacket. "It looks good on you," you whispered, your voice teasing but warm.

Mike's glare faltered slightly. His lips parted and you could see the way his chest rose as he inhaled sharply, the tension bleeding from his body. You brushed a hand against his cheek, your thumb grazing over the faint stubble there.

Mike leaned into your touch without thinking, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours. The corners of his mouth quivered into a faint smile, his warm breath brushing against your face as he pulled you closer by the waist.

"If that wolf comes after you again, I'm turning it into a nice, warm fur coat for you to wear. Deal?" He whispered, his voice low and playful.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine for the first time in hours. Mike's grin widened at the sound, his fingers tightening against your hips.

"My boyfriend deserves only the best, after all," he murmured softly, his eyes fixed on you as your body leaned into his.

ℳ𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒯𝒶𝓎𝓁ℴ𝓇

The wind howled like a wounded animal as you and Matt trudged through the heavy snow, the outline of the radio tower barely visible against the foggy backdrop. Matt’s arm was wrapped snugly around your waist as you both moved in a quiet rhythm.

All of that road for your bag only to being left on the snow the second you heard about what happened to Josh and who did it. You couldn’t believe Josh was dead, you felt so bad for Chris when he told you everything and the sight of Ash covered in Josh’s blood made your your own run cold.

The only thing you could do now was to call for help.

Each step closer to the tower seems heavier, the sight of it towering into the foggy sky sends a ripple of unease through your chest. The closer you got, the harder it became to steady your breathing. Your stomach churned, an uncomfortable knot of fear tightening with every screech of the metal.

Emily marched ahead, her sharp voice cutting through the wind as she barked something about getting to the top quickly and calling for help.

But you weren't listening.

Your gaze was fixed upward. The thought of climbing those stairs made your legs feel weak.

You stopped abruptly, the hand you had around Matt's arm tightened to steady yourself. His warm brown eyes immediately shifted to you, concern flashing across his face as he stopped too.

“What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and gentle, his brows knitted together as he studied your expression.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. "I can't— I don't think I can do this.” Your voice was soft, cracking at the edges, a stark contrast to the person he was used to.

Your breathing was uneven, your lips slightly parted as if you were struggling to get enough air. There was a sheen of moisture in your eyes, not quite tears, but close enough to make his chest ache. Your brows were drawn together tightly and your jaw trembled ever so slightly. The fear in your expression was unfiltered and seeing it struck something deep within him.

"Hey, hey," Matt said softly, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. His thumb brushed gently against your cheek. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Your hands tightened their grip on his purple jacket, seeking something solid to hold onto. "I don't do heights, Matt. I can't climb that thing." You admitted finally, your voice barely audible over the wind.

Matt was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line as he processed your words. He could feel the tremble in your hands, the way your body leaned slightly against his. It wasn't like you to be so afraid and it made him want to protect you even more.

"I can wait down here," you said quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as him. "You and Emily can go up and—"

"No," Matt interrupted, shaking his head firmly. His hands slid to your waist, holding you steady as his gaze locked onto yours. "I'm not leaving you down here alone. That psycho's still out there. I'm not about to let anything happen to you."

You bit your lip, the familiar warmth of his touch helping to calm the storm inside you, even if only slightly.

You were unsure of how to argue. The idea of being left alone felt awful, especially now, but the thought of climbing that tower was almost worse.

Matt sighed, his expression softening. "Look," he said, his voice low and soothing, "I get it. I do. But I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'll be right behind you the whole way. Okay? Every step. We'll get through it together."

You looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through some of the haze of your fear. His hands tightened slightly on your waist. His unwavering kindness was the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely.

You nodded slowly, the movement hesitant but enough to show that you were willing to try. Matt's face lit up with relief, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.

"That's my guy," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your lips quickly, his hand holding your cheek softly in the process until he pulled away. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Emily's sharp voice cut through the moment, impatient as ever. "Are you two lovebirds done yet? We don't exactly have all night."

Matt turned to glare at her, but there was no real heat behind it. "Give us a second, Em," he shot back before returning his focus to you. "Ignore her. She's just cranky. Probably cold."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips and Matt's heart swelled at the sight of it. His hand lingered on your waist for a second longer before he reached Emily to explain to her the situation.

Emily tone was sharp as she spoke with Matt. His voice was soft, though there was a hint of an edge in it.

While they spoke, you took a small step back, trying to regain your composure. Something caught your gaze on the snow-covered ground. A faint shape sticking out of the frost, partially hidden under a layer of ice and dirt. You crouched, curiosity sparking despite your lingering fear.

A faint pattern like a jagged spiral ran along one side and despite the biting cold, it felt almost warm in your hand. You inspected the artifact, turning it over.

The dark, cramped space pressed in on you as you hid together with Matt. His arm was tight around your shoulders, holding you so close to his chest that you could feel his heart pounding against your back.

Your gaze dropped to your hands where blood was pooling at your fingertips, dripping steadily onto the ground. You clenched your fists, trying to stop the flow, but the crimson drops continued to fall.

A gaunt, twisted figure crawled into view from behind, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its sunken eyes glinted in the dim light as it sniffed the air, its head snapping toward your hiding spot.

𝒟𝒶𝓃ℊℯ𝓇 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

"Okay, fine," Emily said, throwing up her hands. "But if he slows us down, Matt—“

"He won’t," Matt interrupted, his voice firm but calm. He turned back to you, his expression softening the instant his eyes met yours. "You ready?" he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

You forced yourself to nod. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

The climb to the first level of the tower had been slow but manageable, largely thanks to Matt. But as the three of you approached the second and final part of the climb, the reality of the height struck you again.

Your hands gripping the railing so tightly that your knuckles ached. The world seemed to tilt around you, a dizzying reminder of just how far you'd come… and how much farther you could fall.

"Almost there," Matt called gently from below, his voice cutting through the roar of the wind. "You're doing amazing, babe. Just a little further."

His words were meant to encourage, but you could barely hear them over the pounding of your own heartbeat.

You reached for the trapdoor, your fingers brushing against its icy surface. A sudden gust of wind slammed into you, throwing you off balance and your foot slipped on the icy stare. Your stomach lurching as gravity pulls you backward, barely managing to catch yourself and clutching the metal stairs with both arms in a desperate embrace.

Matt's heart felt like it stopped at the sight of you losing your balance. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" The words tumbled out of him in a rush as he scrambled up a few steps.

You couldn't answer immediately. Your chest heaved as you clung to the cold metal, every fiber of your being focused on not looking down.

A shriller, far less comforting voice spoke from below. "I'm freezing my ass off down here! Just stop looking down! Close your goddamn eyes and open the damn trapdoor already!" Emily's unmistakable tone rang out from the base of the stairs. Her words hit like a slap and you flinched instinctively.

Matt’s usual calm demeanor cracked as he whipped around, his voice firm and louder than you'd ever heard it before. "Yelling isn't going to help, Emily! Just let him calm down, alright?"

Emily's jaw dropped, caught off guard by the sudden bite in Matt's tone. Her shock lasted only a second before wrath flashed in her eyes. "Excuse me?" she snapped, her hands gripping tightly the bars. "At least I'm trying to get him to move! What are you doing besides staring at his ass the whole time?"

Matt reeled back, his cheeks immediately flushing with embarrassment. "I—what?! I wasn't—what are you even talking about?!" he stammered, his words fumbling over each other in a rush to defend himself, unsure of how to even begin addressing her ridiculous accusation.

Despite your shaky state, a small, unexpected laugh bubbled out of you at the absurdity of their argument and it gave you the last bit of strength to open the trapdoor and crawl on the floor of the tower. "I got it," you called down, your voice still trembling but steadier than before.

When Matt reached the top of the stairs, you were still crouched near the trapdoor. Your legs shook slightly as you forced yourself to breathe, to focus on anything but the dizzying height below. You felt Matt kneel beside you, his presence warm and grounding despite the cold wind cutting through the tower.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing his hands gently on your shoulders. His touch was firm but reassuring, his thumbs brushing over the fabric of your jacket.

His face was closer now, and you could see the worry etched into his features. The way his eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the right words to say, made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

Matt hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. There was a beat of silence, before he leaned forward, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer.

His lips pressed against yours, soft and warm, the kiss tender but filled with a quiet intensity. When he pulled back, his face lingered close to yours, his forehead almost resting against yours as he exhaled shakily with a small, nervous smile tugged at his lips.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. “I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity.

"And for the record," he added quickly, his voice low, "I wasn't staring at your ass. I mean, not on purpose! I mean—" He stumbled over his words, clearly flustered. "I was just… making sure you were safe. Like, in case something happened. Which it didn't! It kind of did, but you know what I mean."

The corners of your lips twitched upward and before you knew it, you were laughing. It was shaky and soft, but it was genuine. The sound seemed to disarm Matt completely and he let out a nervous chuckle of his own, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders.

"See?" he said, his tone lighter now as his own smile grew. "That's better. You've got a great smile, you know? Way too good to waste on freaking out about some stupid tower."

You shook your head, your laughter fading into a warm smile as you looked up at him. He stood, offering you his hand, letting him help you to your feet.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, gripping onto the nearest surface to keep yourself steady, refusing to glance at the windows and the dizzying drop below. Matt stayed close by your side, his arm brushing against yours, while Emily knelt by the radio, frantically fiddling with its dials as she successfully called for help.

Beneath the roar of the storm, you heard a sharp, metallic thud. Your heart leapt into your throat as the noise echoed through the tower.

Another sound. A loud, deliberate slam against the trapdoor you'd climbed through. Emily screamed as she backed away and hugged herself. The metal vibrated under each blow, the trapdoor shaking violently as someone—or something—tried to force its way inside.

Matt stepped in front of you, his arm shooting out to shield you. He was just as terrified as you were, but he wasn't going to let it stop him.

The banging stopped, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. Before a sudden, violent lurch threw you off balance as the entire tower shifted, the floor tilting beneath your feet.

Sparks erupted from the radio equipment as the cables outside snapped one by one, the groaning of metal deafening. Wires shorted out, sending a burst of flames crawling up the walls. The air filled with smoke and the acrid stench of burning electronics.

"Hold on!" Matt yelled, his voice barely audible over the chaos. He reached for you, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he pulled you against him. His grip was strong as he anchored you to him. His other hand shot out, grabbing onto the handle of a desk bolted to the wall, giving you enough time to grab the desk too.

The tower tilted further and Emily screamed as she fell into the window facing the black ravine. She hit it hard, the glass spider webbing with cracks under the force.

"Emily!" you and Matt cried out, but your voice was lost in the chaos as the tower fell violently on the ravine and got stuck temporarily. The desk Matt was holding onto creaked under the strain, its metal legs groaning before the one holding you snapped with a sickening crack.

The sudden loss of stability sent you sliding backward, the window on your left catching your weight just before the glass shattered, slicing into your skin as half of your body hung out into the void.

Panic exploded in your chest as the freezing wind roared around you. Your hands scrabbled desperately against the broken glass and jagged metal, trying to find anything to hold onto. Blood smeared the glass where your palms dragged across it and a strangled cry tore from your throat as you felt your strength fading.

You were seconds away from falling to your own death before Matt's strong hand gripped your shoulder tightly. You looked up, tears blurring your vision and saw his face.

"I've got you," he said, his voice shaking but steady and eyes wide with fear. "Don't let go."

You choked out his name, your voice trembling with both terror and relief. The sheer force of your panic made your words nearly incoherent, but he understood.

His grip on your shoulder tightened as he braced himself against the crumbling wall. With a grunt of effort, he began to pull you up, his muscles straining as he fought against gravity. You felt the jagged glass dig deeper into your skin as he dragged you back to the top of the tower.

Finally, you were close enough for him to wrap both arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. He buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your freezing skin. "You're okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Your body trembled against his, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins but you clung to him tightly.

The sharp, panicked sound of Emily's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Oh, god, Matt, help me!" she screamed, her voice rising above the wind and the groaning of the collapsing tower. The structure swayed dangerously again, causing you to flinch violently as your hands gripped the splintered metallic floor beneath you, too paralyzed by fear to move. The glass shards dug painfully into your palms and your chest heaved with shallow, frantic breaths.

Matt was crouched beside you, his hand brushing over your shoulder in a silent reassurance, though his focus was pulled toward Emily. His jaw was tight, lips pressed together as his head darted between her dangling form and you, trembling on all fours right next to him. "Emily! Just—just hang on!" he shouted back, his voice strained with panic and uncertainty.

"Matt you’ve got to do something right NOW what are you waiting for?!?!" Emily screeched, her hands gripping desperately at the metal beam she was clinging to. Her face was pale, twisted in anger and terror as she tried to haul herself upward.

"I’m thinking! Let me think—" Matt shot back, frustration and desperation bleeding into his tone as he glanced at her precarious position. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to do something, but the chaos made it impossible to think.

"Don’t think, you idiot, just get me out of here!" Emily yelled, her words sharp and cutting.

"Emily, you’re upset, you need to calm down. You’re gonna be fine—"

“Ugh, stop talking, I can’t take it!”

“Stop yelling at me and let me work this out, okay?” Matt’s voice was starting to crack under the pressure. The rare harshness in his tone shocked her into momentary silence, though her glare remained fixed on him.

“No, you stop it! Why do you keep questioning everything I say?! I’m goddamned sick of it!”

As they argued, you trembled next to Matt, your body betraying you under the crushing weight of fear. The dizzying height and the groaning metal beneath you all pressed down like a suffocating hand. Your arms were weak, hands and arms bloody from the shattered glass and your mind was spiraling into dark places you couldn't control. You wanted to move, to help, to say something, but the words wouldn't come as you kept staring down at the metal that kept moving and falling apart beneath you.

Matt extended his hand down to reach for her but the tower moved again, sliding further down and causing Emily to fall further down, her hands gripping tightly the metal were now the only thing keeping her from falling down.

Matt's head whipped toward you as the tower lurched again, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the look on your face. Your eyes were wide, glassy with terror, your lips trembling as shallow gasps escaped you. You looked completely frozen, your normally bright expression replaced with sheer, raw fear. The sight made Matt's chest ache in a way he couldn't describe.

His mind was racing, torn between what to do. He hated seeing you like this, so vulnerable, so scared.

"Matt!" Emily screamed again, her voice grating. He turned back to her briefly, his expression torn. She was hanging precariously, her fingers slipping further with every passing second.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as he realized he couldn't save both of you. The tower was seconds from collapsing entirely.

He had to make a choice.

He couldn't lose you.

Not you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the chaos occurring.

Emily's head snapped up, her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to figure out what he meant

Matt moved, his hand gripping tightly your arm as he hauled you to your feet with a surprising strength born of pure adrenaline. "Hold onto me!" he shouted, his voice breaking through your haze of fear.

You barely had time to process his words before he pulled you forcefully against him, his arms locking around you before jumping away from the tower.

The two of you leapt clear of the collapsing tower just as it let out an earth-shattering groan. The entire structure gave way, crashing into the ravine in a deafening roar of twisted metal, shattered glass, and flames.

You and Matt hit the ground hard, the cold bit into your skin, but the sheer force of the adrenaline coursing through your veins dulled everything else. For a moment, you lay there, your body trembling uncontrollably as you tried to catch your breath.

Matt's arms were still around you, holding you tightly as if he couldn't bear to let go. His chest rose and fell against yours, his breaths coming fast and uneven. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide and frantic as he scanned your face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded shakily, your words caught in your throat. Your hands gripped his torn jacket tightly. "I'm okay," you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled.

Matt exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding his features. But as he looked back toward the ravine, the guilt hit him like a physical blow, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it.

"She's gone," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I didn't—" His words broke off, his face twisting with anguish.

You reached up, your hands still trembling, and cupped his face gently. "Matt," you said softly, your voice steady despite the fear still lingering in your chest. "You didn't have a choice. "

His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance.

"Thank you for saving me," your voice firm this time as you cradle his head between your hands.

Matt's lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowing as tears threatened to spill. "I couldn't lose you," he whispered finally, his voice breaking.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, trembling kiss. His hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender despite the strength that had just saved your life.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time all night, the tension in his shoulders eased. "I love you," he whispered, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

You smiled faintly, your own fear finally starting to ebb away. "I love you too."

For now, at least, you were safe and together.

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 𝒲𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓉ℴ𝓃

The lodge felt emptier than ever.

The silence pressed against you from all sides, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the faint howling of the wind outside. Shadows clung to the corners of the room, flickering faintly with the light of the fire. The crackling flames did little to warm the place.

You sat on the edge of one of the couches, your elbows resting against your knees as you stared at the floor, your vision blurring with tears. One hand gripped the fabric of your jeans tightly, knuckles pale, while the other shakily wiped at your face. Your chest aches and your throat felt tight, like you couldn't quite catch your breath.

Josh was gone.

The image of it was still burned into your mind. It replayed on an endless loop: the look of horror on his face, the blood, the sickening sound of the chainsaw sliding him in half. You couldn't stop hearing it, couldn't stop seeing it, even when you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to force it away.

And worst of all, you hadn't been able to do anything.

The tears started again, hot and unstoppable as they streaked down your face. You drew in a shaky breath, trying to hold it in, trying to keep it together, but the grief was relentless, clawing at your chest like something alive. You dropped your head into your hands, shoulders trembling as you let it out, the quiet sobs muffled by your palms.

You didn't even hear Chris and Ashley enter the room.

Chris's voice broke through the silence, soft but uncertain as he called your name. You stiffened instinctively, brushing at your face quickly as you turned your head, though there was no hiding the tears in your eyes. Chris stood near the doorway, his expression filled with uncertainty and guilt. Ashley hovered beside him, her eyes wide with sympathy, her hands twisting nervously around each other.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat as you tried to speak. "Hey," you croaked, though your voice cracked on the word.

Chris shifted awkwardly on his feet, glancing toward Ashley for a moment before stepping closer to you. His face was pale and tired, the usual spark of humor in his eyes replaced with something dull and haunted.

"Listen, man…" Chris started, his voice trailing off as if he didn't know how to finish. He ran a hand through his hair, his movements restless. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About Josh. I can't even imagine…"

He trailed off again, his face contorting slightly as he struggled to find the right words. You could see the guilt written all over him. He'd watched it happen. He'd seen you break down in that moment, screaming and reaching for Josh, even when there was nothing you could do.

The words came softly, but they still cut deep. You didn't want his sympathy. You didn't want anyone's sympathy, because it didn't change anything. Josh was still gone.

But as you opened your mouth to say something, you paused. Chris's face was crumbling, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke again.

"I know how much he meant to you. And… God, I just can't believe it." His voice broke on the last words, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of his grief was too much to bear.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him. Chris was hurting too. Josh wasn't just your boyfriend; he'd been Chris's brother in all but blood.

You sniffed, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before looking up at him.

"I'm sorry for you too," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "He was your best friend."

Chris's expression twisted painfully and he looked away quickly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice tight. "Yeah, he was,” his eyes were glassy as he looked away.

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, thick and heavy with grief. For a moment, none of you spoke. The only sound was the faint crackling of the fire.

Ashley, who had been silent up until now, moved slightly closer to Chris. She placed a hand gently on his arm, her touch soft but deliberate. Chris flinched faintly at first, but he looked down at her and seemed to understand what she meant

"Right," Chris murmured after a moment, his voice hushed. He looked back at you, his face softening with understanding. "We're, uh—we're gonna head upstairs. Sam should be there.”

You nodded faintly, still not trusting your voice to speak.

Chris hesitated, clearly torn, his eyes flickering toward Ashley and back to you. He looked like he wanted to say more, to stay, but Ashley gave his arm a small tug, silently urging him to leave you alone for now.

"Take your time," Ashley said softly, her voice kind but sad.

Chris let out a breath, nodding at you one last time before turning to follow Ashley out of the room. Their footsteps faded into the distance, and the silence returned, heavier than before.

You sat back against the chair, staring at the fire as tears started to burn your eyes again. It wasn't fair. Josh had been here just hours ago laughing, joking, grinning at you in that mischievous way that only he could. You could still hear his voice teasing you, the way he'd lean close to whisper some ridiculous comment that would leave you rolling your eyes but smiling anyway. He'd kiss you like it was the only thing that mattered, his lips soft and slow and full of affection. Josh had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

And now he is gone.

A sob escaped your throat, unexpected and raw and you curled in on yourself, your face pressing into your hands. The ache in your chest deepened, spreading like a crack in glass. It hurts to breathe, to think, to feel.

Josh lingered in the shadows of the lodge, his breathing controlled, almost imperceptible, as he watched you from a distance. The flickering firelight cast faint orange hues across your form, highlighting every shudder of your shoulders, every tremble in your body as you cried alone on the couch.

It had been hard enough to keep his composure when Chris and Ashley had been there with you. But now that you were alone, crumpling under the weight of grief he'd inflicted on you, it was nearly unbearable.

Josh's chest tightened as he watched you wipe your face with trembling hands. The sight alone carried enough pain to gut him. He hadn't anticipated this part of his plan, hadn't thought about how deeply his "death" would cut you, hadn't truly imagined the look of agony on your face as you mourned him.

Josh gritted his teeth, his jaw locking as he turned his head slightly, as though looking away might ease the ache spreading through him.

It didn't.

You were right there and every sound you made carved deeper into him, peeling back layers of guilt he'd tried so hard to bury.

He had envisioned this night countless times in his head, every piece of the plan falling into place. He would take the others to the brink of terror, make them feel the helplessness and fear his sisters must have felt, and then pull back the curtain. Show them that it was all a game, a carefully crafted performance.

They'd be mad, sure, but they'd understand. He wanted them to understand what it felt like to be alone, to lose someone you loved. To hurt the way he had hurt after his sisters disappeared.

But Josh hadn't anticipated how much it would shatter him to see you the way your body curled into itself like you were trying to disappear, to hear the way you whispered his name under your breath soft and broken, like a prayer that would never be answered.

Josh's fingers dug into the wood of the doorframe until his knuckles went white. He felt his chest tighten, his throat working around a lump he couldn't quite swallow.

You'd see. They'd all see. Once everything was finished, they'd finally understand what it felt like.

Josh inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his gaze back to you. You would forgive him, he was sure of it. By the end of the night, you'd see what he was trying to do. That this whole thing was for you as much as it was for him.

Josh took a step forward, silent as a shadow as he took another. His movements were slow, calculated, as he stalked toward you. His figure wrapped in darkness save for parts of his mask and the edges of the gas mask slung over his shoulder. He kept his breathing steady, his footsteps light, his gaze locked on you.

You were his to protect, his to keep safe. You didn't belong out here with the others. You weren't supposed to suffer because of their sins.

You'd forgive him for this. You had to.

His grip tightened on the gas mask, the rubber creaking faintly under the pressure of his fingers.

His heart hammered in his chest as he hovered just behind you now, close enough that he could see the faint tremors running through your frame. His eyes softened for a brief moment as he crouched slightly, one hand tightening around the strap of the gas mask.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words slipping out so quietly he wasn't sure he'd said them at all.

You tensed at the sound, your head snapping up as you turned sharply to look over your shoulder. But before you could see him fully, Josh surged forward.

A sharp gasp escaped you, your body jerking back instinctively, but Josh was faster. He clamped the gas mask against your face, his other hand locking around the back of your head to hold it in place.

Your muffled shout rang through the room, your hands flying up to grab at his arms, your fingers digging into his sleeves as you fought.

Your struggles weakened as the drug took effect, your limbs growing heavy. Josh caught you as you slumped forward, your head resting against his chest. He cradled you in his arms, adjusted your weight carefully before lifting you into a bridal carry with ease.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, breath shallow but steady. He held you tightly, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he began moving through the lodge.

Josh’s grip on you tightened, his mind racing as he carried you through the lodge. He glanced down at your face, vulnerable and peaceful, a pang of guilt striking him even as he pressed you closer to his chest, his body tense with emotion as he moved through the hallways.

Josh's thoughts halted abruptly when his foot struck something hard on the floor. The object skidded across the hall with a faint scraping sound, breaking the stillness. He froze, his grip tightening on you instinctively as his sharp eyes darted downward.

A small wooden carving, unmistakable even in the low light.

Josh shifted your weight in his arms to free one hand. Almost hesitantly, he reached down and picked up the artifact, its rough surface felt rough, even edged under his fingertips. He turned it over in his hand.

You were standing in the middle of a dark place somewhere. Half of your body is submerged in water. You were frozen, eyes wide and glassy with terror. Your body was completely rigid, as though you couldn't move even if you wanted to.

Then a grotesque, elongated hand reached into view, its skin pale and stretched unnaturally tight over jagged bones. Its fingers twitched as they clamped down with horrifying force. The hand gripped your face tightly, its long, claw-like fingers pressing into your skin as if it meant to crush your skull.

ℒℴ𝓈𝓈 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

Finally, Josh reached the room he'd prepared. The door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing a small, dimly lit space with a sturdy lock. He stepped inside, carefully setting you down on the couch in the corner. Your head lolled slightly as he adjusted your position, ensuring you were comfortable.

He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he cupped your face. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, tracing the lines of your face as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

Josh pulled back reluctantly, his hands lingering on your face for just a moment longer.

"You'll understand soon. I promise." He murmured, his voice soft but firm.

With one last glance, he stood and stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. As the lock turned, he felt a pang of guilt so sharp it nearly brought him to his knees. But he pushed it aside, forcing himself to focus.

You are safe now. That was all that mattered to him.

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓎

The basement was cold, darker than you'd expected, with a damp, heavy air that clung to your skin. The dim overhead light buzzed faintly, casting flickering shadows along the cracked stone walls.

You were in the lead, your pace quick and determined despite the growing fear gnawing at your chest. Your older sister, Sam, was down here somewhere, you knew it. She had to be. Every instinct told you to find her before it was too late.

"Sam's smart," Chris said from behind you, his voice low but steady as he tried to keep up with you, though you could hear the slight tremor of uncertainty beneath his words. "If she's down here, she's probably already figured out a way to hide or something. Right, Ash?"

Ashley nodded, her steps careful as she moved beside Chris, her flashlight cutting weakly through the shadows.

You didn't turn to look at them, focus locked on the narrow hallway ahead. The stone walls felt too close, the air heavy with dust and decay, your hands curling into fists as you marched forward.

"Hey, slow down!" Chris called after you, his voice laced with concern. "We don't know what's down here."

You ignored him, your flashlight sweeping frantically across the walls and floor for any sign of her. The further you moved, the more the basement seemed to twist and turn, like a labyrinth.

The three of you continued deeper into the basement, the narrow hallway opening into a larger, more cavernous space. The walls here were rougher, the stone uneven and jagged in places and the faint smell of mildew lingered in the air.

"This place is insane," Chris muttered under his breath, his flashlight sweeping over the walls as he took in the eerie space. "Why does a lodge even have something like this? It's like a whole new place down there."

There was now a narrow corridor where the walls seemed to close in, the ceiling lower now, the air damp and stale. You paused for a moment to catch your breath, your flashlight flickering briefly as you swept it across the space.

Your eyes fell on something in the corner of the corridor-a faint shimmer, like something metallic. You moved toward it quickly, ignoring the chill that ran up your spine.

It was a small, cracked mirror, its surface marred with streaks of grime and dust. Beside it sat an old, rusted lantern, long extinguished. No sign of Sam. Just more emptiness.

Your chest tightened, disappointment and frustration flaring hot and sharp. You slammed a fist against the wall, the sound echoing in the narrow space. "Dammit!"

"Hey," Chris said gently, stepping closer. "We'll find her, okay? You don't have to-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, turning on him suddenly. "She could be down here hurt, scared, alone and we're just…" You trailed off, your voice shaking as the words caught in your throat.

Chris froze, his expression softening. He didn't argue. He just stood there, his face pale in the faint glow of his flashlight, like he wasn't sure what to say.

Ashley shifted uncomfortably beside him, her brow furrowed with worry. "We're all scared but you're not alone in this, okay? We'll find her." She said quietly, her voice soft but steady.

You didn't reply. You couldn't. Your hands were shaking and you couldn't tell if it was from anger, fear, or something worse. Instead, you turned away from them and pressed forward again, following the set of narrow stairs descended further into the earth, the edges of the stone steps worn smooth from years of use.

"Hey, wait up!" Chris called, his footsteps hurrying to catch up with you. "We should stick together, man."

You ignored him, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Sam. The flashlight's beam swept across the walls, illuminating strange markings and stains that made your imagination run wild.

Their words barely registered as you moved further into the room, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. You scanned the floor and walls carefully, your eyes darting between every crack and crevice for any sign of your sister.

Then, something caught your eye.

Near the base of an old wooden crate, partially hidden beneath a pile of dust and debris, was a strange object. You crouched down slowly, brushing the dirt away. Its weathered surface felt cool and rough beneath your fingertips as you picked it up, the intricate patterns on its surface oddly mesmerizing.

Your fingers wrapped around it and you shifted it to analyze the foreign object.

You were inside a dark, broken-down shelter, your back pressed against the rough wood of the wall.

You were frozen, your body stiff with fear as your wide eyes stared forward. Across the room, something tall with unnatural limbs moved slowly. Its hollow eyes scanned the room, letting out a high-pitched screech that echoed, clawing at your nerves.

Chris stood at the doorway of the shelter. His face was pale, frozen in terror as he raised the rifle in trembling hands as his finger squeezed the trigger.

𝒢𝓊𝒾𝒹ℯ 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

Ashley placed a gentle hand on Chris’s arm, drawing his attention away from you. "You think she is hiding somewhere?" She suggested softly, though her voice trembled slightly.

Chris hesitated, glancing between her and the darkened stairs leading further down. "Yeah it could be," he said. He shifted his flashlight, his shoulders tense. "You should go back upstairs. Check the second floor again. Sam could've found somewhere to hide up there that we missed."

Ashley nodded slowly, her expression troubled. "You really think so?"

"It's worth a shot," Chris said, his voice quieter now.

Ashley bit her lip, glancing toward you with a look of worry etched across her face, her flashlight beam catching your face as she gave you a small, hesitant smile. "Ве careful down here, okay?"

"I will," you replied, your voice steadier now.

Ashley lingered for a moment longer, her gaze filled with concern, before nodding and heading back toward the staircase. The sound of her footsteps echoed faintly as she climbed, growing softer and softer until they disappeared entirely.

Chris turned to you, his expression serious as he adjusted the flashlight in his hand. "Alright," he said, his tone quieter now. "Let's figure this out. If Sam's down here, we're going to find her."

The dim, flickering light in the psycho's basement painted the horrifying scene in muted, sickly hues. The walls were cold, damp concrete, but they were far from empty. Photos of you and your friends on a wall, each one marked with red slashes, circles, and Xs. Some were crossed out completely, others circled with jagged edges, and the sight sent a shiver crawling down your spine.

In one corner, a row of gutted pigs hung from rusted hooks, their carcasses swaying faintly with every breath of stale air in the room. The metallic stench of blood was suffocating, mixing with the damp and decay to create an unbearable cocktail of rot. You gagged, your hand instinctively covering your nose and mouth as you tried to focus on anything else.

Chris's hand found your arm, his grip firm but trembling slightly. He pulled you closer to him, his flashlight beam sweeping nervously over the gruesome display. "Stay close to me," he murmured, his voice low but filled with tension.

You nodded silently, your heart pounding in your chest as you moved together through the darkened space.

She was out there, somewhere in this hellhole. You had to find her. You had to.

Your breaths came faster, shallower, the edges of your vision tingling as your chest began to ache. The panic set in, sharp and consuming.

"Sam…" you whispered shakily, your hand pressing against the center of your chest as it started to burn.

"Hey, hey, whoa." Chris turned to you quickly, his flashlight swinging wildly as he grabbed your shoulders. "You okay?"

Chris pulled you closer, his hands firm and steady against you. "Hey. Look at me, alright? Look at me."

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. Chris's face was pale and tense, but his eyes were focused, his voice steady as he spoke. "You need to calm down. Just breathe, okay? Slow and deep. In and out. Like this."

He exaggerated his breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as he held you against him. "Come on, you can do this."

You tried to follow his example, your breaths coming out shaky and broken at first. But Chris didn't let go. He held you there, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he pulled you against his chest.

The steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his hold grounded you, pulling you back from the sharp edge of panic. Slowly, the burning in your chest began to fade, replaced by the sound of Chris's heartbeat against your ear.

"Better?" he asked quietly, looking down at you.

You nodded weakly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as you exhaled shakily.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing his in a soft, fleeting kiss. It was barely a whisper of contact. A wordless thank you, a quiet plea for comfort, and something deeper you couldn’t yet put into words. Your breath mingled with his, the closeness leaving a faint heat between you even as you pulled back.

"Thanks, Chris."

Chris’s face flushed instantly, his eyes wide and startled. His hand hesitated for a moment before coming up to cup your cheek, his touch gentle and careful, as though you might shatter under his fingertips.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking slightly with emotion. His thumb brushed over your skin, his lips curving into the faintest, most heartfelt smile.

Then you heard it.

A scream ripped through the basement, sharp and desperate and your stomach twisted violently as you recognized the voice. "Sam!" you shouted, your voice cracking as you broke away from Chris, running toward the source of the sound.

"Wait!" Chris called after you, but his voice was distant, drowned out by the adrenaline roaring in your ears.

You sprinted toward a room at the far end of the basement. Your hands were shaking as you pushed the two doors open, gripping the handle tightly before throwing it open.

Inside, a single chair sat in the right corner of the room, its frame worn and splintered. Someone was sitting there, slumped forward, their body motionless.

"Sam," you whispered, your throat tight with fear.

You approached slowly, your steps hesitant as the world seemed to narrow around you. The air felt thick and suffocating as your hand reached out, trembling as you gripped the back of the chair and turned it around.

A mannequin stared back at you, a mask of a clown on it’s face. It was dressed in Sam's clothes. Your breath caught in your throat, a sickening wave of confusion and dread crashing over you as you stumbled back.

A sound came from behind. You turned sharply, just in time to see Chris stumbling backward, his flashlight clattering to the floor.

"Chris!"

The psycho loomed behind him. In one hand, he held a gas canister attached to a mask that he pressed to Chris’s face. Chris choked as he thrashed against the grip until he succumbed to the gas.

The psycho turned sharply, his movements swift as he lunged for you. You tried to backpedal, but his gloved hand shot out, closing around your neck with brutal strength.

Your body hit the wall hard, flashlight falling from your grasp. You gasped for air, clawing at his hand as he squeezed, his mask reflecting the faint light in distorted angles.

Your fists pounding against his chest in desperate, useless strikes. The edges of your vision darkened, your chest burning as your lungs fought for air.

Then you felt the cold metal of the gas mask press against your face. The faint hiss of the anesthetic filled your ears, and your struggles grew weaker. Your arms dropped to your sides, your legs giving out as darkness swallowed you whole.

You woke up to the sound of heavy breathing and the faint clink of metal. Your head throbbed painfully, your vision swimming as you tried to focus. Slowly, the room came into view. A cold, gray space lit by a single flickering bulb

Your wrists were tied tightly to the arms of a chair, the rough rope biting into your skin. Across from you, Chris sat in a similar chair, his face pale and streaked with sweat. One of his hands was free, but the other remained bound, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the chair.

There was a gun on the table between you and him.

You groaned, blinking against the faint light.

Chris stirred, his head jerking up as he blinked rapidly. When his gaze landed on you, his face twisted with panic.

"Shit," he muttered, trying to pull at the ropes around his wrist. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You winced, your throat aching with every breath. "I… I'm fine."

Chris's eyes darted to your neck. The purple bruises from the psycho's grip were already forming, faint lines marring your skin. His free hand clenched into a fist.

"I'm gonna murder his fucking face off," Chris growled, his voice low and sharp with barely restrained rage.

Before you could respond, the steady whir of machinery made your blood run cold. You looked up to see a series of big chainsaws mounted to the ceiling, its blade spinning as it began to descend slowly toward the two of you.

A distorted voice echoed through the room.

"Hello, there, my special little subjects. Here’s the twist: Chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another one. Chris, you can take the gun in front of you and shoot him, or you can shoot yourself. Whoever is left: lives”

Chris raised the gun up on the ceiling, pointing it at the chandelier and pulling the trigger over and over. You flinched at hearing the sound of gunshots so up close.

Chris paled instantly, his face twisting in disbelief as the chainsaw remained unscathed and kept moving down towards your heads.

His breathing grew ragged as his gaze darted between the gun and you. Your heart clenched painfully as Chris pointed the gun at the base of his neck, hands trembling and teeth clenched so tightly you could see the tension in his jaw, his breaths fast and uneven, hissing through his teeth as if the air was being forced out.

The barrel of the gun wavered slightly, his finger hovering over the trigger. For a moment, his lips parted, a faint whisper escaping that was too quiet to hear. His body shook with the effort of holding the weapon steady, the weight of his decision pressing down on him.

"Chris!" you shouted, struggling against the ropes. "Don't you dare!"

His lips trembling as he tried to steady his hand. "I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Tears were now blurring your vision as you fought with everything you had to break free.

Chris closed his eyes, took a final, shaking breath and pulled the trigger.

Note: let me know if you had a favorite among the four. I’d love to hear your thoughts! <3 I’m also open to any feedback or constructive criticism you might have.

[boom-butterflyeffect]

everyone needs to read this immediately

mike munroe and his way of loving you

a sucker for you.

mike’s love for you is bold and undeniable. he’s the guy who grabs your hand in the middle of a crowd, spins you around, and dips you into a dramatic kiss just because he can. his confidence doesn’t waver, and he wants everyone to know he’s crazy about you.

his kisses are playful and teasing most of the time—quick pecks that turn into stolen moments of passion when you least expect it. but when he’s in a tender mood, his kisses become slower and full of affection, as if he’s trying to show you how much you mean to him without saying a word.

he absolutely adores your neck. not just because he loves trailing kisses there, but because he likes how sensitive it is when he teases you with soft nuzzles or whispers. he’ll smirk and say something like, “you’ve got the best neck in the game, babe. i’m just here appreciating greatness.”

during your period, mike is a total sweetheart with a playful edge. he’ll joke, “so, how many mood swings do i need to prepare for today? just kidding—sort of.” but then he’s all about bringing you snacks, massaging your feet, or letting you use him as a pillow.

his love language is physical touch, hands down. whether it’s pulling you into his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist, or just playing with your fingers absentmindedly, mike loves staying connected to you in any way possible.

mike loves making you laugh, and he’ll stop at nothing to do it. whether it’s goofy impressions, corny jokes, or spontaneous dance moves, he lives for the sound of your laughter and the way your face lights up when you’re happy.

he’s got a protective streak, but he handles it with charm. if someone flirts with you, he’ll casually step in and say something like, “hey, buddy, thanks for keeping her company while i was gone. she’s all mine, though—better luck next time.”

mike is so into surprises. he’ll plan last-minute road trips, set up spontaneous date nights, or even show up at your work with your favorite drink. he thrives on keeping things exciting and seeing the joy in your reaction.

his teasing is endless, but it’s always filled with love. he’ll call you silly nicknames, poke fun at your quirks, and pretend to be offended when you roast him back. “wow, babe, that one cut deep. who taught you to be so mean?”

mike is obsessed with your legs. he loves watching you move, whether you’re walking, dancing, or just lounging around. he’ll grin and say, “what can i say? they’re perfect. you should probably thank your genetics or something.”

when he’s feeling vulnerable, he tries to hide it with humor, but you can always tell. in those moments, he’ll cling to you a little tighter, whispering, “don’t ever leave me, okay? i mean, not like you could—you’re stuck with me now.”

no matter how playful or teasing he gets, mike makes sure you never doubt how much he loves you. he’ll say it outright, bold and unapologetic: “you’re my everything, babe. i know i’m annoying sometimes, but hey, you signed up for this chaos.”

[dahliascophin]

nsfw warning 18+

( having loud thoughts at 3 am )

mike x reader x josh where

reader is proped up against Mike's chest with Mike having a blast with the dirty talk and groping

while josh is knuckle deep in and eatung reader out and moaning and groaning into reader 😨😨

god I NEED THESE MEN!! TOGETHER!!!

vocal men who have a tendency to please>>

[ruewrote]

𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: mike munroe x fem!reader WARNINGS: too little too late, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: i know you by faye webster WORD COUNT: 1k

navigation | ask | michael munroe masterlist

you found yourself once again caught up in the tangled drama that was michael monroe. you and mike had always had an undeniable connection. one with stolen glances, inside jokes, the kind of chemistry that hovered just shy of something real. 

but as soon as emily and jessica started competing for his attention, you’d backed off, deciding to not get wrapped up in someone else’s chaos. it was easier to watch from the sidelines, letting your feelings slowly drift into the background. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

but here you were, sitting beside him on the edge of a worn couch in the lodge, both just soaking up the atmosphere of the now quiet lodge. most of the group had gone to bed, leaving you and mike to sit alone in the dimly lit room.

you’d come down for a late night snack and found him sitting there, looking ost in thought. you almost turned around, but when he looked up and met your gaze, he gave a small smile, motioning for you to join him.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence after a moment, “still awake, huh?”

“could say the same to you,” you replied, settling into the cushion beside him, careful to keep some distance.

he chuckled, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together as if trying to warm them by the fire. “yeah, guess i just can’t sleep with everyone up here again. reminds me of the last time we were all together…before everything got so complicated.”

you scoffed, shaking your head. “by ‘complicated,’ do you mean the whole emily versus jess war?”

mike’s expression softened, almost guilty. “yeah, that’s part of it.” he glanced sideways at you, eyes flicking over your face. “kinda miss when it was just…simple, you know?”

you raised an eyebrow, feeling a familiar warmth in your chest. “maybe it wasn’t ever simple. maybe we just wanted it to be.”

he didn’t respond right away, just stared into the fire, looking pensive. there was a time when a pause like this would have meant something. a heartbeat of possibility. but that was before..

“didn’t think it’d end up like this,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “feels like we’re all different people now.”

“yeah, well, some people change more than others,” you replied, trying to keep the edge out of your voice. you hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but seeing him in front of you. just you and him. stirred up all those old memories, the times you’d wondered if maybe he felt the same way. 

the question you’d never gotten around to asking because, sooner than you’d realised, there was jessica draped over his shoulder, or emily fuming by his side.

his mouth twitched, and he looked over at you, that familiar, easy smile tugging at his lips. “is that your way of saying i messed up?”

“maybe,” you said, meeting his gaze, unflinching. “or maybe it’s just me realising i made the right call in staying out of it.”

“ouch,” he said, but there was a glint in his eye, and he didn’t look away. “guess i deserved that.”

you bit back a smile, leaning back on the couch, feeling a bit more at ease as the memories softened the edges of your irritation. “you absolutely did.”

mike laughed, the sound light, almost free. “you know,” he began, leaning back as well, mirroring your position, “there was a time when i thought maybe…you and i…”

“don’t,” you cut in, holding up a hand, a half hearted warning. “don’t even go there.”

“what?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes a little more serious. “afraid i’ll ruin your pristine opinion of me?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “what opinion? the one where you’re a magnet for relationship drama?”

he grinned, but there was something softer in his gaze now, almost regretful. “maybe i am. but if i am, it’s only because i got distracted…didn’t go after what i really wanted.”

a flicker of surprise flared in your chest, and for a second, you could feel that “what ifs” creeping back. “and what was that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

the room seemed to still as he held your gaze. “i think you know.”

the words hung between you, their meaning clear, yet unsaid. there was something vulnerable in his expression, something you hadn’t seen before. you swallowed, the weight of your choice pressing down on you.

there was a part of you that wanted to reach out, to close the space between you and see if the years of missed chances had only made the spark stronger. but another part quickly remembered the way your other friends felt about him. 

you glanced away, breaking the spell. “too bad you didn’t realise it sooner.”

he nodded slowly, his face falling just a bit. “yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “too bad.”

the silence was thick, filled with all the unspoken things that had been left behind. you could feel the shift, sealing off a path you’d once been tempted to take. maybe it was for the best. you’d walked away from his chaos once, you could do it again.

but just as you were about to stand, he reached out, his hand catching yours in a gentle, hesitant grip. his fingers were warm, grounding you in the present moment, pulling you back before you could leave. you looked down at his hand, then back at him, a question in your eyes.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer, a little unsure. “i know i’ve made my share of mistakes. but…maybe this time, we could try again. just you and me. no drama. no distractions.”

you swallowed, his words stirring something long buried. but the memories of watching emily’s furious glances and jessica’s possessive hand holding still lingered, reminding you of all the things that could go wrong.

you slipped your hand free, giving him a small, sad smile. “maybe, mike. maybe someday.”

he nodded, the faintest hint of a sad smile tugging at his lips.

“i’ll hold you to that.”

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

"We're gonna get out of here, I promise"

pairing : mike munroe x (fem) reader

cw : mike has a gun, talk of death, and blood, and maybe like one swear I don't know. reader is referred to as mike’s girlfriend, but other than that i don’t believe any female pronouns are used.

a/n : i know this is kind of late since the until dawn remake has been out for a while but i kept procrastinating this after I started it. anyways #needthat.

The wind pulls at you from every angle, hair clinging to your sweaty, frostbitten cheeks. Adrenaline kept your body moving through the never-ending maze of trees and snow; you didn’t think it would last much longer. You were sure if you continued in this direction, eventually, you would reach the sanatorium. 

It was marked on the map in the cable car station, the same map you had seen before you made your way up to the lodge with Sam and Chris. That was hours ago, and you wish you could go back and warn yourself to go back down the mountain. Or even better, ignore Josh’s email altogether and stay home. Play sick. You’d say anything not to be where you are, right now. 

But that’s not possible, is it? 

Your clothes are sticky with blood. Not your own, you think. You hope. This night was not turning out the way you had expected it to. And the choices you had made leading up to this point were beginning to make your stomach turn the longer you thought about them. 

Why did you leave the lodge? You could’ve stayed on the kitchen floor after that psycho knocked you out; you could’ve pretended not to hear Chris’s attempts to wake you up. You could’ve looked for a phone instead of rushing into the snow to find Ashley. Speaking of them, why had you left Chris and Ashley? You could’ve returned to the lodge with them to find Sam after witnessing your friend be sawed in half, but no. You needed to know that Mike was okay considering you hadn’t seen him since you both arrived. 

Why did you start that argument with Mike before the two of you had left for the lodge? 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You're getting jealous over nothing. We’ve talked about this, there is nothing between me and Em. I’m with you. I’m in love with you. Why does this keep being brought up?”

“Maybe because she texts your phone like you're still close? ‘Text when you and the new gf get here, can’t wait to see you, winky face’,” you push his phone towards him. “She knows who I am, why does she feel the need to refer to me as the ‘new girlfriend’ as if we’ve never met? And why is she sending you winky faces? Why exactly is Em so excited to see you, Mike?” You make a point of emphasizing her nickname which seems to flow off his tongue so easily. 

“You’re looking into this way too much. This is crazy, I mean come on, that’s how she texts everyone, baby.” He gently takes his phone from you, throwing it onto the bed and reaching back for your hand which hovers in the air. You let him, but you make no effort to hold his hand back, fingers only resting in his hold. A soft sigh leaves your lips. 

“Yeah well, I’m not loving that she texts you that way and I’m also not loving the fact that you’ve said nothing to her about how weird it is. You have no problem defending her when you talk to me, so why can’t you say something to her about how I feel?”

“If I said something it would just cause a fight between me and her, or you and her, and the last thing that anyone needs up there, especially Josh, is for all of us to be fighting. Can you pretend to like her, only for the weekend, and then you never have to again.”

“You say that every time she’s involved, ‘just pretend to like her for tonight, and then you never have to ever again.’ But I will, because for some reason she is always around. I figured when Matt and she started dating we would see her less but I guess I was wrong.”

“Please, let’s just go and get it over with. We’re doing this for Josh, remember?”

“I don’t know, Michael, something about spending an entire weekend with your ex-girlfriend isn’t really appealing to me anymore. Call me crazy.” His eyebrows soften as you use his full name, especially in that tone. He is enjoying this conversation less than you are. 

“Don’t be this way, we’re already packed and ready to go. Just come downstairs and get in the truck. She won’t bother us, baby, I promise. Come on..” He attempts to pull you, gently bringing your hand closer to him. But your fingers slip from his hand, dropping to your side. From the bed, his phone buzzes, the screen lights up, and you don’t have to look to know who’s messaging him. 

“Sam told me she's taking the bus up there, I think,” you look back to him, “I’ll just head up with her so she doesn't have to go alone.”

“But then I have to go alone. And the bus leaves in like an hour, that's barely enough time to get ready and get to the stop. You're being ridiculous, just come with me. And if you want to, we can talk about this on the way up.” 

 You look away from him, missing the way his face falls as you turn your back to him. “I’ll see you up there, Mike.”

If you had just let it go, believed him, and gone with him instead of taking the bus with Sam, you would’ve never been angry with each other at the lodge. Or rather, you wouldn’t have been so furious with him because you would’ve talked things out in the truck, kissed, and made up instead of stewing in your thoughts on the bus. You wouldn’t be worrying about whether or not he was alive right now. But you were stubborn and foolish, and now you are trudging through the snow, improperly dressed, and praying the person you love is still breathing on this stupid mountain. 

You cross your arms over your chest, preserving what little warmth you have left, and with every step you lose another piece of hope. All you can think of is him. And how, if he is dead, he would’ve died thinking that you were mad at him. You weren’t even angry, annoyed for sure but not angry, you were just being stubborn and taking your frustration out on him. Now you might never get to apologize. The thought makes your stomach churn and your steps falter as a wave of nausea overtakes you. 

But, finally, in the distance you see the outline of a large building surrounded by a brick fence that appears to be falling apart. You allow yourself to be comforted, just for a moment, by the sanatorium's existence. The nausea in your stomach ceases as your steps quicken, arms uncrossing to move through the air. You reach the gate, blocked by the large pile of snow blocking both sides, not that you think you could’ve pushed it open in your current state; blocked from snow or not. 

You let your hand trace across the gate's bars as you walk towards the side of the fence. The pads of your fingers sting from the cold metal but you keep them where they are. As you move, they follow, moving from metal to brick. The only way into the sanatorium courtyard, you realize, is to climb over the stone fencing. 

A tired sigh leaves your body. You place your hands on the wall, palms stinging from the snow-covered surface. You lift your body, throwing your leg over simultaneously, climbing on top to straddle the snowy stone. The action uses more energy than you realistically have left so instead of gracefully landing on the other side of the wall you fall, directly onto your back. At least the pile of snow beneath you cushions your fall a tiny bit, but it still takes you a few minutes to recover your breath. 

Using the wall, you find your footing again. The snow falls from your clothes as you stumble towards the sanatorium. You don’t even know what you were expecting to discover here. You figured there might be people here. Maybe a construction crew, getting ready to tear the old building down. A custodian, forced to stay and take care of an abandoned building. Or on the slimmer side of chance, a large group of stable nurses and doctors that would offer you and your friends shelter and much-needed medical attention. However, the closer you get, the more you realize how fucked you are. Nobody is out here. And it was stupid to believe there would be. 

But you’ve come this far, and the chill that runs through your body borders on hypothermic potential. You reach the front doors, using your body to push the door open, shoulder first. It opens far easier than expected, and you fall to your hands and knees as it flies inwards. “Fuck.. me.” 

You don’t move from the floor, the opposite actually, you get closer to it, falling onto your back. You don’t even want to get up. No one is here. All your friends are probably dead back down by the lodge. What’s the point? At least this way you’ll have time to think over every choice that led you here, it’ll take a while for the cold to kill you since your feet are the only part of you still lying outside the building. From farther within the entry hall you hear a door open, the sound of steps echoing through the empty building. And though your heart rate picks up speed, you don’t move. Instead, you pray that whatever it is, will kill you quickly so you can be with your friends again. So you can be with Mike. 

“Who’s there? Whoever it is, just know I am armed and I am not afraid to shoot you. I have had one hell of a night and I am so not in the mood for.. whatever it is that you want.” Even with your heartbeat drumming against your ear canals, you still pick up the voice. A man's voice. Almost recognizable. You let your eyes close, murmuring the only thing you can think of like a mantra. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. 

“Holy shit. Y/n?” Mike? You turn your neck enough to see the man approaching. A sudden second surge of energy fills you, and you lift yourself into a sitting position to fully face the figure walking towards you. 

“M..mike?” 

“Holy- Oh my god, how are you- Are you okay?” He falls to his knees in front of you, dropping the gun and the lantern in his hands on the floor. His hands hover around you, scared to touch you. You notice that two of the fingers on his left hand are missing, replaced by a bandage soaked in blood.  Your hands are the first to make contact, landing on both sides of his dirty face.

“Are you real?” He nods, pulling you into a too-tight embrace. A stark contrast to his previous concern and reluctance to touch you. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m real. I’m so glad to see you. You’re alive.. holy shit I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“You look terrible” You wipe away some dirt from his face. Eyes wide as you try to convince yourself that he is actually in front of you. You had convinced yourself that he was dead, and now to see him in front of you alive and well - okay maybe not well but he’s not dead - it has your brain moving a mile a minute. There is so much you have to say. So much you have to explain to him. How do you explain to someone that his friend was sawed in half on the anniversary of his sister's death? Or how do you explain that the rest of his friends might ALSO be dead? And without sounding insane, how do you explain that you truly believe something is up on the mountain with you and that it might’ve followed you the entire way to the sanatorium? You can’t.  

“Well, I’m happy to see you too, baby.” He laughs breathily, unsteady. A laugh of disbelief. His way of coping has always been humor, even at the most inappropriate of times. Your features are probably the exact opposite of his uncertain smile. You pull him close again, practically pushing him to the ground, but his arms wrap around you and he straightens his back to keep the two of you upright. “Woah, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

You push your face into his shoulder, saturating the filthy, green jacket that he wears with tears. It stinks like cigar smoke, years of sweat buildup, and dirt. 

“Mike- Oh Mike,” your voice is muffled in his skin, pausing in between sobs to catch your breath. His arm wraps tighter around your waist, the other arm reaching up so his hand can rest in your tangled hair. “I’m so- I am so so sorry Micheal. I thought you were dead, I thought- I thought you died thinking I was angry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. I’m just- I’m so glad you’re alive.” He kisses your temple, and as you raise your red face to look him in the eyes, he moves your hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Can you walk? God, you must be freezing. Did you come all the way from the lodge like this? Fuck, y/n, how are you even alive.” You shake your head, a silent confirmation that you don’t know how you’re alive either. 

He helps you to your feet, taking off the unfamiliar jacket and helping you into it. He then retrieves the lantern and the gun from the floor, “Here, can you hold this up?” You nod, and take the lantern from his hand. In the hand opposite of you, he holds the gun, and with the other, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “We're gonna get out of here. I am going to get you out of here, I promise.” He’s so certain, and your fear almost dissipates completely as he leads you farther into the sanatorium with a tight grip on your hand.

[boom-butterflyeffect]

bless you and your until dawn hcs, they feed the freak in me...[hehe]

anyways until dawn men with a reader who likes biting them and how well the boys would react to it, PLEASE AND THANK YOUUUUU

i am here to feed the freaks

(very slowly tho because my brain sucks a bit)

UNTIL DAWN MEN BITEY STUFF

Matt

Hmm... this is a difficult one. I don't think Matt would be into biting, but if there was a reader who enjoyed biting him, he'd just kinda get used to it, and find it silly and a bit funny. Gets bit and just shakes his head with a sigh and a smile on his face. "You're a weirdo. Y'know that, right?" but his tone couldn't be more affectionate.

Chris

I feel like biting would catch Chris very much by surprise, and he wouldn't know how to feel about it. Could probably initiate some playful wrestling with him restraining your hands, "Would you stop that?" with a big smile on his face. Would make zombie and/or cannibal jokes.

"I know I'm just so irresistibly muscular and whatever, but can you try not to eat me?"

Josh

Oh boy. If you bite, he's biting back harder. I hc him as a bit of a masochist as well as a sadist, and would absolutely LOVE a reader that bites him. Lots of play wrestling, biting, getting pinned, all part of the fun for him.

Now if you bite during sex, that's a whole other thing. That's just motivating him to go even harder.

Mike

Mike thinks it's funny and endearing, even though it catches him off guard sometimes. He gets used to it. He scolds you like you're a puppy,

"Hey, that's not nice." as he pries your teeth from him, with that trademark smirk of his on his face, trying not to laugh.

During sex, it's like a bit of reassurance that he's doing good, and that you're enjoying it, so he's got no complaints.

[pyrodolls]

hi hi! i saw you mention that you love doing hcs & i LOVE them, so i thought i would send in a request

i wondering if you could do hcs of what it’s like to be mike munroe’s gf (or partner if you prefer to keep it neutral!) like how he is w them, his flaws, etc.

mike munroe x (gn! reader) relationship hcs

✰ warnings: gender neutral reader, poc friendly, all hcs are sfw

✰ there is nothing i love more than doing hcs, tysm for requesting some!! i had a ton of fun writing this, so if you would like a part two, i'll do it! (i literally saw this req and immediately got up to write it) also i mentioned some poc things in here cuz i'm latino, soooo if anyone wants me to write any character x poc! reader, i am SO down.

mike is a very secure, confident partner. he's perfectly fine with you having male friends or spending alone-time with a guy.

but when another guy is clearly flirting with you?

oh boy.

he would go up to you and casually sling an arm around your shoulder, subtly hinting to the other guy that you are taken. if the guy doesn't take the hint, mike would butt in the conversation and would keep referring to you as his "love" or "beloved" until the guy leaves.

he isn't afraid of confrontation or anything, he just doesn’t want to waste time on someone like that.

if mike were to meet your parents, he would be confident and casual. he'd obviously hold back on the pda and profanity, but overall he wouldn't be too stressed about it. mike is very confident that he could win the approval of your parents. because of how calm he is, he'd probably treat your parents like old friends.

but if you're a person of color, he'd try a little harder. mike would present himself a bit neater, would constantly mention his successes, intelligence, job, etc. he'd even put in the effort to follow your family's customs. like if you eat with your hands, he has no issue doing so. or if you have a larger family, especially if they don't speak english, he would probably try to learn the language and get along with them all. he really wants to gain their approval.

these hcs make him sound like a saint... but the number one issue in your relationship with mike is that he tends to be a bit ignorant when it comes to your feelings.

for example, if you were at a party and you told mike you were uncomfortable and wanted to leave, he would be like: "what? why? this party's great! just go and talk to people, it isn't that hard."

he's nice about it, he just doesn't understand. he may even tease you about it.

"what? are you scared of social interaction? oh no, a conversation! the scariest of all weapons!"

but he shuts up immediately when he actually sees how uncomfortable you are, then he'd help you out. he's a nice boyfriend, just not the most understanding sometimes.

when you are genuinely in distress (emotionally), he would drop everything to help you and get rid of whatever is troubling you. if there's a chore you are too stressed to get done, he's helping you with it. if someone's messing with you, he'll have a... 'chat' with them. even though mike isn't too good with emotions, he hates seeing you stressed or sad. even if you're in denial or claim that you "don't need help" he isn't having it. he's stubborn, and he WILL help you.

mike's love language is probably either physical touch or quality time. if you're taller than him, he'd probably rest his arm around your waist. if you're shorter, he'd like to tease you sometimes by having his arm on top of your head, but mainly around your shoulders. he isn't afraid of showing off his partner to others, so he likes holding you at all times in some kind of way.

he also loves quality time. doesn't matter how. whether you're out at dinner somewhere, or just sitting in the same room scrolling through your phones in silence. he isn't picky, he just likes being around you.

mike strikes me as the type of boyfriend to always offer to drive you places, even if you're a better driver than him. you'd be in the passenger seat and you get to choose what music to listen to, while mike has one hand on the wheel, and his other hand resting on your thigh.

when you're spending time with mike, you laugh a lot and mess around like kids, but after 3-4 hours of hanging out, you're suddenly talking about the meaning of life and your biggest fears and covering them up with jokes. he's versatile!😻

overall, he's a nice, funny boyfriend. even if he isn't extremely good with emotions, he tries his best with you.

[emrldfox]

I still don't know what to put for captions

[princesssmars]

plsssss do something for michael munroe im so starved

i could change your mind

some college football player mike headcanons.

contains: fluff. some nsfw. american football gross. mike is cocky whats new. fem!reader. hair nor skin color described.

a/n: anon i lowkey miss him too so i'll do a few headcanons for you anon. sorry that my until dawn rewrite is like on hiatus I just feel like it's gonna be such a flop so my brain says it cant be bad if I don't write it ??? idk. ty for making me do this. set in college but i've decided to start a year late so if i get shit wrong sorry scholars. (heart fingers emoji I'm on desktop fml.)

idk why but the first thing that popped into my head was him loving a sport...like he gives smart but also dumbass jock to me we let's go with he did football in high school and he's at college on a scholarship.

if you're like me you don't give two shits about the sport you probably would not like twice in a football player's way, which he definitely sees as a challenge. he'll come up to you in the dining hall and try to hit on you in front of his jock friends, spouting a "whatever you say, sweetheart" when you reject him with a grimace.

to your surprise and horror he's in one of your advanced classes in your second semester, sitting with his feet up next to your seat with a smile when you walk in. you do call him troglodyte for having his shoes on the table but he says with an easy smile that he's in with the teacher who said it was alright.

great.

for the first three weeks, you try to ignore his questions and poking at all costs, but when you get paired up on an important assignment you decide to hold your disdain on pause. he invites you to "study in his dorm" which nearly gives you a migraine, until he chuckles and tells you he's joking, telling you you can meet at common ground and study in the library.

you hold your tongue instead of giving a quip about how he probably won't be able to keep his mouth shut, but once you actually get there you realize the worst thing ever: mike munroe isn't a moron. he's actually pretty smart, maybe nearly as smart as you, and shows pretty good leadership with how he takes in both your academic strengths and divides the workload based on them. its not hard to see why he's the quarterback.

after you get an a+ on your project, you start to warm up to mike. his stupid quips in class start to actually become funny, leading to numerous moments where he makes you snort in class and the professor rolls his eyes.

your friendship soon grows enough that mike has the confidence to invite you to one of his games while you're walking around campus, and if you start to say no he informs you that he will not hesitate to get on his knees and beg in front of everyone. that makes you feel a little weird so you groan and tell him fine.

the whole time you don't really know what's going on, even though ten minutes before he had to get ready he tried to cram all of the rules into your head. even though you don't know everything you can tell when something good happens, like when he makes the touchdown that wins your school the game. he celebrates with his team members and his crowd of fangirls before coming over to you, clearly waiting for you to say football is fun or something,

you don't. but the after-party definitely was. you don't know what that frat guy put in the punch but it was good, and had you nearly drunk in only two hours. nearly being a keyword, because someone who was past the point decided to do a childish game of seven minutes, and you decided to play along for fun.

but it wasn't so funny when they spun the bottle and it landed on you, then the next turn between two people to point towards the couch where mike was watching with his friends. they both burst out laughing at the horrified look on your face as you reluctantly follow him inside the closet.

for the first minute it's quiet, soft noises from the two of you adjusting your bodies in the quiet space and "sorry"'s when you bump into the other.

he takes your silence for uncomfortableness, telling you he's alright with just sitting with you. "one of my favorite things to do actually"

you don't really know why but you kiss him after that. when you pull away you can faintly see his blank face. great. you ruined everything. you're about to give some half-assed excuse before his hand is on the back of your neck and he's pulling you back into him and pressing your body into his.

things get weird after that night.

you're still friends after that night, of course. except now its...different.

you still have your movie nights laughing at people making dumb decisions in horror movies, except now you'll sometimes wind up on mike's lap with your tongue down his throat.

you still text each other stupid pictures you found on snapchat (he insists on using it, fuckboy he is. or used to be, weirdly). except now before you go to sleep he'll send you a picture of his bulge with a smiley face at the bottom. if you send a picture back he'll send a long voice message that you don't open for your own sanity.

but you aren't like. dating. and you don't know why in passing you hear his teammate nick call you "mike's girl". because you aren't. at all.

and plus its not like you've slept together or even gone on an actual date. you're just...closer than normal friends are.

and then he leaves the next december to spend a week with his old friends, and you kind of mope around campus while he's gone. he makes sure to text you constant updates until the night where he arrives at the cabin, where he leaves you delivered for two days. he did say his ex was going to be there, so that nagging voice in the back of your head is telling you the worse.

until you finally get the call from some random number in alberta. when you pick up after some initial confusion you hear mike on the other side.

"mike? what the actual hell? its been two days, thought you somehow managed to get lost in the snow."

he laughed on the other line, able to tell you're insult at his intelligence meant you cared. his voice sounds hoarse.

"yeah, yeah i know. i'm sorry. something came up and i...i've been stuck in this damn police station-"

"police station? jesus, how hard did you guys party."

he calls your name and it's serious. he only sounds like that when something important or bad has happened.

"mike? is everything ok?"

"no, no its not. josh is...he's gone. the cabins gone. we're all pretty messed up."

you don't give a response, waiting for him to elaborate if he wants to.

"i don't know what to say..i'm so sorry."

"it's alright. i'll explain more when i get back. i just wanted to hear your voice."

"now you're really scaring me."

he laughs again, the scratch of his voice returning.

"thank you."

"for what? constantly insulting you and bringing you back to reality?"

"for making me laugh. haven't done it in a while."

"yeah, well...i'll make sure your roommate hasn't completely trashed your dorm. and we can get some takeout. on me, because i'm polite."

"screw that, we're going on a date."

your heart skips.

"did you actually get a concussion because that's not funny."

"im serious. no more being a pussy. time to start getting serious. plus we're basically already dating, so."

"god, why does everyone keep saying that?"

"i'll see you soon."

the phone hangs up and you toss the phone to the side with a slight smile.

[synnamon-hearts]

Josh/Matt/Mike/Chris x Chubby!reader 🌚?

hcs or lil drabbles! also.. maybe some nsfw tehe

Oooo, okay!

NSFW down below!

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

Josh ~ Surprisingly, Josh has never been one to have much of a preference. The man just wants to be loved by someone finally! So when you come into his life and maybe show him a bit of love he has been craving, he is hooked but asks you out only after a few months of pining away for you. He honestly finds you adorable in every way. Your chubby lil cheeks get him the most. Be careful! He's a pincher! You may have thought that he was doing it to make fun of your weight at first but that isn't the case at all. I believe that due to constant medication changes throughout his life, he had some weight gain experiences himself in the past. So it doesn't bother him in any way. He just pokes at you because he finds you so goddamn cute and he doesn't know how to show it other than being a bug. And he loves how soft and comfortable it is to cuddle you. He likes to lay his head on your stomach or lap while you watch a movie. It's like you are a warm pillow and he adores that. It helps him to sleep better at night too!

He loves your ass and thighs. He enjoys grasping them when he fucks you, feeling the softness between his fingers as he presses them into your flesh. The way your ass jiggles a bit extra when he fucks you from behind has him throthing at the damn mouth. This man is a biter 100%. He will pop a tit in his mouth while you ride him and go crazy! Or your ass, ohhhh it's SO getting covered in his teeth marks! And the way you look in sexy lingerie that he buys you is a sight that will stay on his mind for weeks after. And take his oxygen away. He begs for it. Sit on his face and let him eat his heart content while you smother him under your weight. Nothing will make him happier.

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

Matt ~ I think that Matt is that down-to-earth kind of guy who believes that it is what's on the inside that counts. He doesn't think that looks should be the only thing that attracts someone into a relationship with another. However, you still caught his eye and had his heart fluttering from the beginning. He thinks you are the most beautiful person he has ever seen in his whole life. That with your amazing personality, oh it's so a win for him. From the first date and on, you are his everything. He will spoil you, I swear! He takes you to all sorts of different stores and encourages you with showering compliments about how everything looks good on you. His guy is also a hugger. He loves how soft and warm your hugs are. In fact, he could hold you all day if you would let him. Of course, you would have no complaints if that was the case. He is such a sweetheart.

And this goes for love making as well. Oh boy, he is never letting you go once you are in bed or just about anywhere naked with him. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight to him as he pounds into you, enjoying how plush and squishy you are. He wants to feel every part of you in these moments—he wants to get lost in you. He loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist as he thrusts into you, squeezing him tightly to lock him into place. Ugh, it's absolutely divine to him. Do this simple move and that alone will have him coming back for seconds, maybe even thirds! You just have that special effect on him.

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

Mike ~ Mike was always the type of guy to go for the typical "pretty girls with barely any waist" girls. So falling for you was quite unexpected for both you and him. It started out as a friendship, both hanging out at parties and joking around together. At first, he found you kinda cute. Your laugh, your smile, your bright eyes, even your belly was a little adorable to him. But eventually, those feelings of adoration grew into something stronger. He began appreciating you in a new light and thinking of you more than usual. It was evident in his heart that you had tamed him, and he was quick to ask you out so he could make you his. Being with him leads to some deeper insecurities for yourself, being cheered always some girl throwing herself at him anywhere you go. But Mike always reassures you by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your soft cheek, he only has eyes for you.

Fair warning, he is burying his face in between those tits. If you are riding him, it makes it even better. He loves the feel of them bouncing up and down on both sides of his face as you trust up and down on his aching cock. It just makes him crazy! Mike definitely is a pervert, but he can be so romantic with it at the same time. I'm talking candles, wine, maybe some gentle and loving roleplay to ease you into it. He didn't care much about the little things with other girls, but you are different. He isn't used to being with a girl like you, therefore he wants to appreciate and savor you fully and satisfy your every need to show you how much you truly mean to him.

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

Chris ~ This man—oh my God—he's smitten. You know he has a low self esteem so he is shy as fuck with you. You almost think he doesn't like you with how backwards and awkward he is around you. It has you feeling pretty down but then Josh—being the awesome wingman that he is—drunkenly tells you about how Chris has strong feelings for you one night at a party. So you make the first move and ask him out on a date. Chris treats you like a goddess. He doesn't care what others think or how they may see you, because all he sees is an angel on earth who he can call his. You have won a special place in the heart of Chris Hartley and you wouldn't be leaving it any time soon.

Now Chris, he's a body worshipper. He thinks that every part of you is beautiful and sexy and isn't afraid to show it in the bedroom. Your full tits? He's sucking them. Your stomach? Oh, he's kissing it all over. Your thick thighs and ass? Man, he will grope the hell out of them. He will do anything you ask of him if it means it's showing you how attracted he is to you. He is also a face sitting craver, and will beg for it almost every time. It's only partly because he loves the feeling of your weight down on his face though. He also just wants to treat you like his beautiful goddess should be treated by spoiling you with his tongue and later his aching cock.

𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭~𖹭

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 7: Loss

Told you that you would get two chapters tonight! Actually felt so bad about the last chapter, but I promise, none of the others are that short. Personally, this one was the funniest one to write, playing around when Josh is at his worst (I promise I'm a good person), but I like having a bit of freedom with everything yk? Anyways, hope you like it, and get ready for chapter 8 tomorrow <3

The lights turn on, and Ashley’s crying. Chris is still intact. I let out a breath of relief. 

“No, no, no get away” Ashley shouts. We all move closer, seeing the Psycho walking slowly towards them. Chris aims the gun, shooting him several times. For a minute, I forget about the fake bullets, and my hand covers my mouth to keep me from shouting. Josh laughs. 

“Oh Chris, oh Chris Chris Chris Chris.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of blanks before?” 

“I mean, really?” 

He takes off his mask, revealing himself. 

“Josh?” Chris asks, confused and tired. Ashley keeps blinking, and Sam runs forward, getting her untied. Josh keeps laughing. 

“Josh!” Sam exclaims, probably glad to see that he’s okay. I look down, and can't meet his gaze. This is not the Josh I know. He doesn’t stop laughing. 

“Josh…” Mike says. 

“Oh, oh, very good. Every one of you got my name!”

“And after all you’ve been through! Good, good-good-good. I mean, how does that feel? Right? How does it feel? Do you enjoy feeling terrorised, humiliated, panicked? All those feelings my sisters got to feel that night one year ago. Only guess what, they didn’t get to laugh it off, no, no, they’re gone.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed Josh, but none of us are laughing” Mike scolds. 

“Oh come-come-come-come-come, why the long faces? Come on. It’s good to get the heart racing every now and then, right? And race they did, I mean, every one of you, just pitter-pat, pitter-pat! I hope you appreciated my little phantasmagorical spectacle! I mean, no detail too small, no opportunity missed.”

I walk over to Chris, getting him untied as well. I notice a camera some paces away. He fucking video-recorded all of it. 

“It was such a delight to play the puppet master to all of you Pavlovian panic. And all that gore! I mean, it was gore galore! Fake bodies, I mean, god that shit was expensive. Oh, and no retakes, only double-takes! Hook, line and sinker for every little stinker!”

“Josh, why are you doing this?” Sam asks. 

“Don’t even ask this squirrelly little runt. He’s got no clue, he’s out of his fucking tree” Mike yells. 

“He’s off his medication” I state. “And he has been for a while.”

“Awe, come on you guys. Revenge is the best medicine!” 

“You’re done!” Mike threatens. 

“Mike, he’s sick” Chris adds. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s gone way overboard, but he’s obviously having some sort of episode” I support, looking down at Chris. 

“What, I do know what I’m doing, you guys are going to thank me when you become internet sensations.”

“What, what?” I exclaim. 

“Oh you bet this is going viral ladies and germs. I mean, we got unrequited love, extreme grief, gore, blood. Oh so much blood! I don’t think there’s enough hard drives in China to count all the views we’re going to get you guys.” Mike shakes his head. 

“What are you talking about, you ass-hat. Jessica is fucking dead!” 

“What?” Everyone turns to Mike. 

“Did you hear me?” he asks, walking slowly towards Josh. “Jessica is dead, and you’re going to fucking pay you dick!” he shouts as he hits him in the head, making him fall to the ground, eyes closed, and not getting up. 

“What the hell Mike!” I yell. 

“You stay fucking out of this!” he shouts back, pointing at me. “This fucker is going to pay, you hear me!”

I don’t say anything else. If he really did kill Jessica, then we can’t do anything else about it. We all make it upstairs, Chris has tied his hands, and I hurt just looking at him. I have to keep reminding myself that this is for everyone’s safety. 

“What are we going to do?” Sam asks. 

“Emily and Matt went to the radio tower for help” I say. 

“When?” 

“After this freak faked his own death” Chris adds. 

“And they haven’t come back yet?”

Shit. During everything, I had forgotten about them. 

“Well, one thing is for sure, this guy is not staying here” Mike states. 

“So where should we take him?”

“The shed?” I ask. If he had a whole set-up there, it might be livable for a night. 

“Okay, you coming?” Mike asks. I nod in reply. 

“I’ll come too” Chris adds. 

“We’ll wait here for Em and Matt” Ashley states. 

***

We take Josh outside, the guys being harsh and brutal. I just look down, not facing either of them. As long as they don’t really physically hurt him. 

“Guys, come on, seriously, this is crazy you know” Josh says, refusing to keep going. 

“Shut up man, the only crazy here is you”

He looks over at me, pleading. “Come on, you love me, you care about me, you wouldn’t do this”

“Just till the morning, Josh, so we can get you some help.” Mike keeps pushing him, eventually leading him to losing his balance and falling. I grab hold of his arm, lifting him up again. But right when he’s on his feet again, he tries to run back to the lodge, causing Mike to shove him again. 

“Good God” I whisper. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“Locking you up, bro” Mike snarls. “So you can’t do anything stupid before we call the police in the morning”

“Come on, I didn’t do anything-”

“Are you serious?” Chris interrupts. 

“You’re a goddamned murderer, is what you are” Mike interjects. 

“I didn’t do it. Michael please, just listen to me man. I did not hurt Jessica.”

“Guys, we don’t know anything for sure” I add. 

“Listen to her, she’s saying I didn’t do it”

“Josh, we don’t know anything, just keep silent till tomorrow, please” I plead. 

He stays silent for a while, making it easier to get him to the shed. 

“You’re just seeing what you want to see. You’re blind!” Josh yells. 

“Stop talking!” Mike shoots back, throwing him down. 

“Mike…” I yell, and Chris immediately follows. “Dude, chill”

Mike gets over him, holding him in place. 

“It’s not my fault you suckers can’t take a joke”

Mike twists his hands, making Josh give a small whimper. “Oh, wait, did I hurt you? Did you just feel a little bit of pain?”

“Mike” I threaten. There’s no use acting like this when he’s obviously not in the right state of mind. 

“Oh, I’m so soooo sorry” Mike continues taunting. Josh continues to shout, telling him to stop. Chris looks away, unsure about how to handle the situation. 

“Mike stop it” I tell him, and he forces Josh up on his legs again. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that something happened to Jessica, but it wasn’t me, I swear I don’t know what happened” Josh explains. Something feels wrong, but I can’t wrap my head around it. When it happened, what was Josh doing? Chris finally interjects. 

“Josh, do you really expect us to trust you after everything you’ve put us through?” 

He starts laughing, maniacally. I can’t face him, can’t see him like this. 

“Can’t we all just get along?” he asks in a child-like manner. Mike grabs him, and I don’t know what else he’s doing but it makes Josh scream. “We’re not dicking around.” Mike starts pushing him into the shed. 

“This was not how it was supposed to go down, this was not, just not…” Josh continues rambling. 

“You’re just a bunch of bullies! You can’t hang me out to dry like this!” 

I sigh, tired and exhausted, like I’ve been all night. Josh keeps yelling, Mike pushing, and Chris seems completely shattered. He’d lost his friend too many times today. 

“Not like you got the guts to do anything about it, huh?” Josh continues, pining Mike. 

“Ohh, you’re the biggest coward there is” Chris chimes in. 

“Uh huh? I did something! I made you believe in a world that I created, and I showed you parts of yourself you were too afraid to visit!”

“Would you shut up Josh!” I yell, everyone looking at me with surprise. “You tricked us, you manipulated all of us, your friends, me… And you did all of this while hiding behind some screens in a basement with a mask. Don’t you understand how fucked up this is?” My voice cracks, and I can’t help it. Anger, annoyance, betrayal. I was there, I could’ve helped him, he kissed me. He distracted me in the worst way possible just to shut me out yet again. 

Mike turns back, taking hold of him and forcing him on a chair beside a pole. Josh continues grunting in protest, shouting at us. Both the guys tie the rope around, having to hold him down while doing it. 

“Can’t tie him up if he just wiggles around!”

“Josh”

“Give me a little wiggle room!” His eyes are nothing like what they usually are. It seems like some type of spark has left them, which is now filled with a dark fog. 

“Plastic ties, way more good for hostage situations…” Josh mumbles. 

“What the hell is going on with him?” Mike asks. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him like this before” I answer. 

“It’s so difficult to see him like this” Chris adds. 

“Ashley’s a dumb dumb…” Chris turns to him, asking what the hell he’s talking about. 

“Well, I said you’re a dummy dummy!” 

“Chris don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying” I plead. Josh starts making kissing sounds, teasing and pining Chris. 

“You know what that sound is? It’s the sound of never kissing Ashley you pussy!” 

“Stop!” Chris grabs a plank, already holding it in the air. 

“Josh, please”

“You know, you might as well let Ashley sleep with Mike.” I look over at Mike, and he’s already looking around confused, unsure about the circumstances of the whole conversation and how it led back to him. I shake my head to him, urging him to stay out of the whole thing and don’t contribute to the fire. 

“I mean, at least he has some notches in his belt. He’ll treat her right!” Josh shouts as he’s humping the air. 

“You’re fucking pathetic Christopher!”

“I’m going to beat his fucking head off!” Chris shouts. I quickly grab the plank, dragging it out of his hands. 

“Don’t listen to him, man, it’s not worth it” Mike tells him, hand on his shoulder. Josh shifts his target, looking over at Mike and starts repeating his name. 

“What is it Josh?”

“What happened with Jess, Mike?”

“You know what happened” 

“No, no I don’t. I’ve got a problem Mike-”

“No shit Sherlock” Chris whispers. Josh continues. 

“I don’t remember killing Jess…”

“Christ”

“I mean, like, I feel like I would remember killing her, you know? She’s so soft… And she’s probably got like, a really tight bod”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Mike screams, aiming the pistol at him. 

“Woah, woah, woah, Mike” I carefully thread. “Put the pistol down.” He lowers it, staring at him with contempt. 

“Josh, will you please just shut up?” I urge him, trying to persuade him. 

“Only if you give me a little show.” My annoyance and anger cover the slight missing of him. 

“You know…” he starts. 

“You were a fucking obstacle in my whole thought-out plan” 

“I mean, some of the thrill of it is being a bit spontaneous, right? And the only way I manage to get you out of my way was to literally fuck you senseless!”

I take a deep breath, this isn’t him, he would never say stuff like this. The other guys look surprisingly my way, Chris waving his arms in an awkward manner, not knowing what to do. 

“And like, fucking we did! And when you figured it aaaaall out? There was no other thought that came to mind than to get you down and going and on and on and on…” he keeps chanting, and I lift the plank in the air and hit him. Hard. 

“Shit, why the hell did you do that?” Chris asks. Mike just shakes his head, glad that the continuous mumbling is gone. Josh is knocked out, and Chris’s immediate reaction was to check for a pulse. 

“I didn’t fucking kill him” I scold, but he just gives me a dirty look. 

“You guys go back to the lodge, I’ll stay here” Mike offers. I shake my head. 

“No worries, I’ll stay here with you. Maybe he’ll wake up in a better state of mind, and if he does, I need to apologise.”

“I’m going to leave him with the guy who pointed a gun to his head and the girl who knocked him out?” Chris asks, and we both nod. 

“Fine, just don’t hurt him again, please?” he says as he makes his way outside, walking back to the lodge.

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

Mike munroe x male reader

Summary: Trapped in the freezing sanatorium, Mike notices your body trembling from the cold and takes matters into his own hands-literally. His touch starts out innocent, a way to warm you up, but soon it turns into something far more heated.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Wolfie being a good boy. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Smut. Gay smut. Top Mike munroe. Bottom male reader. Anal sex.

Note: I played the original game years ago, and now that I'm playing the remake, my crush on Mike has come back. He's such a good character with amazing development. I never expected to like him this much. I'm near chapter 7 of the remake, and I'm honestly loving it.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Words counts: 3000

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

The cold of the sanatorium was oppressive. It seemed to leech the warmth from the very walls, seeping into your skin and bones, making every breath feel like you were inhaling shards of ice. As you and Mike rummaged through the mess of papers and debris in the dim, decaying room, the chill became impossible to ignore.

You had been at this for what felt like hours. Searching for anything, any clue, any scrap of information that could help you make sense of the nightmare you and your friends had stumbled into.

You wanted to focus. You needed to. But the cold was starting to weaken you. Your muscles ached from the effort of trying to stay warm, and despite your best attempts to keep it together, your hands were trembling as you shuffled through the scattered papers. The torn, thin jacket you'd found earlier did little to protect you, barely covering your torso, let alone insulating you from the freezing air.

Snowflakes continued to drift in from the broken windows, scattering across the dusty floor.

The place felt like a tomb. The smell of decay hung in the air, making every breath feel heavy, cold, and full of death.

Mike tried to stay focused, but even as his eyes scanned the scattered papers on the floor, his attention was pulled to you. You were over by the corner of the room, crouched low beside an old table, sifting through stacks of yellowed documents, your movements deliberate but slow. The jacket clung to you awkwardly, barely covering your arms and torso.

Even from across the room, he could hear your teeth chattering slightly, despite how hard you were trying to suppress it.

You always did that, pushing yourself even when it was clear you were struggling. Mike admired that about you, but it was also something that worried him. He knew you were trying to stay strong for him and the rest of the group, but the last thing Mike wanted was for you to get hurt or worse.

His thoughts raced, that protective instinct flaring up again. You didn't deserve this. You deserved to be somewhere warm, safe... with him.

He had been feeling that way for months now, ever since that night after he broke up with Emily. That night had changed everything for him. You were the one who stayed with him, sitting by his side, listening to him vent as he struggled to process the end of his long-term relationship.

You didn't just offer hollow platitudes; you gave him the kind of comfort and understanding he never knew he needed. He realized then, somewhere between the midnight conversation and the quiet moments of silence, that you were different. You weren't just his friend; you were the one person who made him feel like himself again.

After that night, he found himself constantly thinking about you. How easy it was to talk to you, how you made him laugh even when he felt like shit.

He'd find excuses to see you, call you up for help with college work, or invite you out for something casual. He always assumed you'd catch on quickly to his flirting, but you never did. Either he was terrible at flirting with a guy like you, or you were just completely oblivious.

Without a word, he began to unbutton his own jacket, which was far thicker and more insulated than the pathetic excuse you were wearing.

He held it out toward you.

"Here," he said simply. "Take it"

You shook your head immediately. "No. I'll be fine. You need it more than I do."

Mike narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You're freezing, man. You look like you're about to turn into an ice cube."

You tried to laugh it off, though it came out weak and unconvincing. "It's really not that bad. I can handle the cold. And it'd be selfish of me to take your jacket. There’s no way you're any warmer than I am."

With the simple tank top he was wearing underneath, now all dirty with mud and snow, it became even harder for you to stop staring at him. His muscular and strong arms drew your attention.

Mike sighed, holding the jacket out stubbornly towards you. "You're not fine. You're shaking like a leaf." He reached out, gently brushing his fingers over your arm, feeling the coldness of your skin even through the thin fabric of your jacket. "Just take it."

But you shook your head again, more firmly this time. "It wouldn't be fair," you murmured, looking down at the papers you were holding. "You need it just as much as I do. I can handle the cold. We've been through worse than this, right?"

Why couldn't you just let him take care of you for once?

"Come on," he tried again, his voice soft but insistent. "After everything we've been through tonight, hypothermia is the least of my worries. I'm not letting you freeze out here, not when I can do something about it."

You glanced up at him, your eyes softening for a moment, and for a second, Mike thought you might actually take the jacket. But then you shook your head again.

"I'll be fine, Mike."

Mike sighed heavily, his breath visible in the cold air as he ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it, you're stubborn.”

You gave him a small smile, trying to divert the conversation as you continued sorting through the papers. "I've been called worse."

Finally, with a deep sigh, Mike relented, shoving his jacket back on with a grumble.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being the creak of old floorboards beneath your feet and the occasional rustle of paper. Wolfie, the wolf Mike had somehow managed to befriend, lay beside you, his fur brushing against your leg as he occasionally shifted.

Every so often, you'd reach down to scratch behind Wolfie's ears. His fur was soft under your fingertips.

You gripped the edges of the papers in your hand, hoping that somehow, just focusing on the task in front of you would make it better.

It didn't.

It was then that you noticed Mike shifting beside you and before you could react, his body was pressing up against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist in a firm but gentle hold. His warmth hit you immediately, and you couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped your lips at the sudden contrast.

"Mike?" you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you stiffened in surprise at the closeness.

"Relax," he murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "If you won't take my jacket, I'll just have to warm you up myself." he whispered, his voice rough and low.

Your heart started to race, not just from the unexpected contact, but from the undeniable heat that surged through your body as Mike's lips brushed against the side of your neck. The sensation was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold this time.

His lips moved slowly, deliberately, trailing soft kisses down the length of your neck, each one sending a wave of heat through your body. Your body was leaning into his touch, craving more of the warmth and comfort he was offering.

This wasn't the Mike you were used to. This was something far more intimate, more personal.

"Mike... I don't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You don't what?" he asked softly, his hand sliding up from your waist to rest on your chest, pulling you even closer against him. "You don't want this?"

Of course you wanted it. More than anything, really. You'd been harboring feelings for Mike for so long, feelings you'd kept hidden, thinking there was no way he'd ever see you as anything more than a friend, a study partner, a background presence in his life.

But now, with his body pressed against yours and his lips trailing fire down your neck, it was clear that Mike had been seeing you in a very different light for a while.

"I didn't think..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think you felt like this about me."

He hadn't planned on this happening, not exactly. But as he held you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body against his, he couldn't deny how good it felt, how right it felt to be this close to you. For years, he had pushed his feelings for you to the back of his mind, thinking it wasn't something you'd ever want. You were smart, focused, always so kind.

He pressed closer, his lips trailing lower along your collarbone, his fingers gently digging into your waist. The torn jacket you were wearing slid down slightly, giving him better access to your skin, and he took full advantage of it, kissing his way down your neck with slow, deliberate movements.

Mike's lips paused against your skin, and he pulled back, his expression soft but intense. "You really didn't notice, did you?" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I've been trying to get you to see it for months. I thought you'd pick up on it, but... guess I'm not as smooth as I thought."

You blinked at him, your mind reeling. "You've... been trying to tell me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. "I've been dropping hints since we stayed up all night after Emily and I broke up. You were there for me, man. And ever since then I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I didn't think you'd ever feel like that about me," you confessed, your voice shaky with disbelief.

Mike smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulled you a little closer. "I noticed the way you looked at me," he said quietly, his breath warm against your skin. "All those times you'd stare at me, thinking I didn't see. You were so fucking adorable, but it drove me crazy."

You blinked up at him, clearly shocked by the confession. Mike chuckled softly, his lips brushing over your jawline, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your waist. "You're not that good at hiding it, you know."

Before you could respond, Mike kissed you. His lips hungry, filled with all the emotions he hadn't been able to express before. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer.

You responded almost immediately, your lips parting under his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Mike deepened the kiss, his hands slipping beneath your jacket, his fingers tracing the outline of your hips, your waist, your chest. His tongue dipped past your lips.

After a long moment, Mike pulled back just enough to whisper, his voice low and rough, "You're okay with this, right?"

You didn't even hesitate this time. You nodded, breathless.

Mike's grin widened, and without another word, he kissed you again, even more deeply this time. His hands moved up your sides, tugging at the edges of your jacket as he pressed you against the wall.

You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as the heat between you both grew.

Mike's lips left yours, trailing down your jaw and back to your neck, his hands roaming your body as if he couldn't get enough of you. Your breath coming in shallow gasps as he kissed his way down to your collarbone, his grip on your waist tightening.

You wanted more, needed more, and judging by the way Mike was holding you with his erection pressing insistently against you, he felt the same.

He pulled back slightly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced over at Wolfie, who had been lying quietly in the corner of the room.

He bent down, ruffling the fur of the wolf who had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. "Go on, buddy," Mike whispered. "Follow me for a second."

The wolf trotted after Mike as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone for a few moments, heart still racing. You could hear him talking softly to Wolfie just outside the door, something about how you were "the guy" he'd told the wolf about before.

When Mike came back into the room, locking the door behind him, the intensity in his eyes made your pulse quicken even more.

Without wasting another second, Mike crossed the room in a few quick strides and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. His lips were insistent, full of desire, and you couldn't help but melt into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back with just as much need.

Mike's hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His tongue teased at your lips before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

He broke the kiss just long enough to mutter, "God, I've wanted you for so long."

Then, his lips were on yours again. His hands gripping you even tighter, pressing you against the nearest wall as his mouth trailed down your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there.

His hands were on you, pulling at your clothes, lowering them to expose just what was needed with an almost frantic urgency, before he gripped your ass, his fingers digging into the soft skin with a possessive intensity as he lifted you slightly, pressing his body against your.

"Relax," Mike whispered, his voice low and commanding as his fingers trailed down, teasingly brushing against your entrance. "Let me take care of you."

He teased you for a moment, his fingers gently exploring before he slowly pushed one inside, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his voice low and gravelly.

He moved his finger slowly at first, watching your face for every reaction, but as you relaxed into his touch, he added another finger, stretching you carefully.

Mike's other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more tender.

By the time Mike pulled his fingers out of you, you were trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him.

You heard the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants, and then you felt the tip of his hard cock rubbing against your thigh.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You could barely nod, your entire body trembling with need. Mike lined himself up, his hands gripping your hips firmly, and then, with one slow, steady thrust, he pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, filled you completely. He moved slowly at first, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but all you could do was moan softly, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"You're perfect," Mike groaned as he began to move, his hips moving with slow, deliberate motions. "You feel so fucking good."

Mike's hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your chest, cupping your face as he kissed you hungrily. His cock filled you completely, each slow thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs as he stroked you in time with his thrusts.

The more his pace picked up, the more his movements became rougher, more desperate. He kissed you again, biting at your lips, your neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust.

"Fuck," Mike groaned, his voice low and husky. His soft grunts filling the cold room as he moved inside you.

The pleasure built to an unbearable peak as his thrusts became faster, harder. You could feel the heat spreading through your body, your muscles tensing as you teetered on the edge.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, Mike groaned loudly, his hands gripping you tightly as he came, his cock pulsing inside you. The sensation sent you over the edge as well, and you cried out as your own orgasm ripped through you, your voice muffled against his neck.

After a few moments of catching your breath and letting the weight of everything settle in, Mike pressed another soft kiss to your forehead before pulling away slightly, his hands lingering on your hips. You could see the satisfied smile tugging at his lips, that playful, cocky expression you had grown so used to over the years. He gave you a wink before straightening up, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself as if nothing had happened.

You followed suit, your body still buzzing with the aftermath. There was something so surreal about it all. Being here, with Mike Munroe, of all people. You had known him for years, but you had never imagined things would end up like this.

Once you were both dressed and more or less presentable, Mike walked over to the door, unlocking it with a soft click.

"Ready to face Wolfie again? He might be a little upset that we kicked him out." He glanced back at you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, before swinging the door open.

Outside, Wolfie was sprawled out across the floor, his furry body taking up most of the tight hallway. The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening, and he turned his head to glance at the two of you. His golden eyes scanned you two and then, with what could only be described as a huff, he plopped his head back down onto the floor, letting out a long sigh as if he had been deeply offended by the delay.

"Is he pouting?" you asked, incredulous.

Mike smirked, clearly amused by the wolf's behavior. "What? You jealous, buddy?" he teased as he crouched down beside Wolfie. The wolf, still looking somewhat begrudging, turned his head away, as if refusing to acknowledge Mike.

Mike reached out, scratching Wolfie behind the ears, his voice dropping into a low, playful tone. "Come on, don't be mad. I was just doing my part to keep him warm. You know how cold it is here."

You watched as Wolfie's resolve began to crumble under Mike's touch, his tail thumping softly against the floor as Mike scratched behind his ears. Mike chuckled, his cocky grin growing wider. "See? I warmed him up real good. All thanks to me."

Wolfie responded with a soft growl. He finally turned his head back toward Mike and he ruffled his fur, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

Mike stood up, shooting you a wink as he slung his arm around your shoulder. "Damn right, I did." He leaned in to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips.

Together, you and Mike walked down the hallway, Wolfie trotting along beside you. And as Mike gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, you couldn't help but feel grateful that, through all the chaos and terror of the night, you had found someone worth fighting for.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[slasherscream]

Can you do some more until dawn characters (yandere please) like you’re trying on clothes at the mall and ask their opinion?

YANDERE UNTIL DAWN CHARACTERS + READER IS TRYING ON CLOTHES

A/N: thank you for reading my until dawn content! it's such a small fandom these days, comments/reblogs/anon reviews/asks are appreciated as they let me know people are still reading these. 

- Josh has an excellent eye for aesthetics. He may not know all the words/names for the types of clothes you look good in but he recognizes them right away. He’ll try and describe something you should get, give up, wander off, then come back with examples of what he meant while you’re in the dressing room. If the shopping trip is under four hours he can remain locked in the entire time. This is the strength of will and character that comes with being the big brother to two little sisters who got his driving license first. He’s spent entire lifetimes at the mall hyping up the twins. He knows what to do. Overall helpfulness: 8/10.

- Sam loves spending quality time with you. Quality time is one of her preferred love languages, in fact. She picks you up for your shopping day with your favorite coffee shop order in hand, from the best place in town. She’s good with little details like that. You can always count on her to give you her honest opinion on what you pick out. She’s gentle about it, but she’ll never let you wear something she thinks is unflattering. She’s also mindful of waste consumption. With Sam’s help you wind up picking things you love, are comfortable wearing, and that you’ll actually use. Not a penny wasted, no matter how much you spend. Overall helpfulness: 10/10. 

- Chris could not possibly, in any version of reality, fix his mouth to give you a criticism about any of your choices. Let alone choices about how you will go about decorating your body. He’s lucky he gets to look at you. It’s an honor! Thank you for honoring him! Every time you step out of the dressing room you will get the exact same answer, very enthusiastically, in the same tone: “That looks GREAT, babe!” You’ll be ready to kill him thirty minutes in. Absolutely worthless feedback. You’ll have to get help from the salespeople who work there for opinions. If you want a ‘yes man’ this is your guy! Overall helpfulness: 3/10. 

Hannah is another sap. She’s more helpful than Chris, but only by the slightest margin. If something doesn’t look good she’ll be able to stutter her way around to it…. eventually. She’s nearly petrified at the thought of upsetting you. Never-mind the fact that you’ve asked her how the top looks on you five times now. “Well…. I mean… how do YOU think it looks, Y/N?” As if you’d be asking if you could come up with an opinion yourself. You’ll wind up leaving with only a few items. You’ll have to come back with a friend in a few days. You may need a new wardrobe, but if you need help picking it out, you’ll need a different set of eyes. Overall helpfulness: 4/10.

- Emily is going to be honest to the point that, yes, it will hurt your feelings a little… if you’re lucky. Mileage may vary. If you’re particularly sensitive she’ll hurt your feelings a lot. But god forbid you start trying to take someone nicer shopping with you. She’ll throw the hissy fit of the century when she finds out. Yes, when, and not if. Emily manages to find out everything you try to keep from her. Everything. On one hand you’ll wind up looking the best you’ve ever looked. Your entire wardrobe suits you perfectly. She even buys/picks out things that you’ll like, in your style, even if she finds the style personally distasteful. That’s how much she loves you. It just has to suit you, or else she will say something, and the way she says it is never very nice. You’ll look incredible, but at what cost to your mental health? Overall helpfulness: 8/10. 

- Mike isn't very enthusiastic about the activity, but likes the good boyfriend points it garners him. Thus, he will come along whenever you bid him to do so. He’s only got about two and a half hours of shopping in him though, so try and have an idea of what you want to get in your mind. Before you arrive at the stores, please. If you take a long lunch break he can go back for another two hours but this is his hard limit. Knows well enough what you already look good in. Or when something looks downright awful on you. He does struggle a little to help if you’re wanting to try a completely new style. He’s as lost as you. The more underground/alternative/particular the style you want to try is, the worse the advice gets. If you’re just doing a wardrobe refresher this is your man. Overall helpfulness: 6/10. 

- Beth makes shopping relaxing. You’ll stay as long as you need in order to get everything you need. She probably had you make a Pinterest board before you guys went out so that you’d be able to refer back to it. She knows getting into the stores can wipe your mind clean of what you needed/wanted to get. She’ll have you guys stop for lunch as well, but then you’re right back at it! She likes seeing your style evolve and change. Her feedback is honest, but gentle. It won’t ever feel like a criticism of your body, just the clothing. You walk out satisfied and always happier than when you came in together. Overall helpfulness: 10/10. 

- Jessica is in her element here. Honestly, Jessica drags you shopping with her more than you’ll ever drag her shopping. Spending time together means a lot to Jessica. She never takes it for granted. Thus, she always tries to make any activity, but especially repeat ones like shopping, fun. She probably has a shopping playlist she made for the two of you. You both wear one wireless earbud and get to movie montage with each other. Watch out if the Princess Diaries songs or something Hip-hop comes on, she’ll start dancing to make you laugh. Her feedback is upbeat and positive, but honest. She hypes you up like crazy when you come out wearing something that makes you look really hot! Wolf whistles and everything, your face will be burning up as you flee back into the safety of the dressing room. “Baby, come back! You look smoking!” Overall helpfulness: 9/10. 

- Matt knows absolutely nothing about fashion. He tries his very best to help, but he’s at a loss. Only if something very obviously doesn’t suit you will he be able to veto it for you. “I dunno… maybe it’s a little awkward in the arms or…. something?” You’ll have to take a few breaths. However, if something looks good, he can absolutely be a hype man! His eyes light up, he takes your hand, makes you do a spin. All the attention is enough to make you kick your feet and giggle. He can compliment you all day long. To his credit, he can compliment you specifically enough on what looks good. Even if it’s still a little vague. “The color of this makes you look really… wow! You know?” You’ll be able to figure out he means jewel tones make your skin look glowy one of these days. For now, at least you know your boyfriend thinks you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. Overall helpfulness: 5/10.

[dahliascophin]

pussydrunk mike 😵‍💫 he doesn’t mean to overstimulate you but you just feel so good he can’t help his rough thrusts :(

Oh god i love making Mike a pathetic little thing in my writing i am all for weak!Mike pls.....

warnings: He's fucking pathetic. Collar and leash.. hear me out now... Mocking Mike for being pathetic 😵‍💫 dom!reader, Switch-ish? Mike ( def more sub ) 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... can't stop fingering and eating you out because he's fucking mesmerized by how wet you are it has him in some typen of hypnosis

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... moans and almost cums in his pants when you yank on his hair while he's 3 knuckles deep inside your sore, soppy cunt- making you cum and cry for the 4th time in an hour..

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... when you show him a pretty red collar and chain leash he looks at you with a baffled expression.. not telling you no though.

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... when you yank on the collar to smush his face back into your overstimulated puffy pussy he looks up at you with his mouth dropped open in surpising and sudden extreme arousal as he whimpers into your clit, and almost sobbed cry at how fucking horny and desperate he is for you

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... Clasping your thighs around his skull and squeezing his head further into your core- Mike's glassy brown puppy eyes rolling into his head as he fully accepts his defeat.

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... when you bend over the edge of the bed with the leash still on a strong hold and demand him to fuck you like the pathetic puppy he acts like and he just nods dumbly as his fat, red, weeping cock lays between your soft asscheeks- waiting for the green light to fuck you until you both cry.

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... when he starts fucking you- his hips are stuttering and he's shakey as his nails dig into your fatty hips as his back bends into a protective almost feral wolf growling over its fresh kill. Pathetically loud moans and babbles of how good you feel and how he can't function without your pussy..

"Ohh.. oh.. oh fuck.. fuck. yesyesyes!.. feelsogood.."

" 'mygod.. ohmygod.. so wet.. soo wet.."

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... hears your whimpering cries as you shove your face into the pillow- reaching across the bed to grab the charged wand and slip it between your thighs, making your knees fully buckle- Mike and the bed the only things holding you up.

- Pussydrunk!Mike who... Feels the vibrator against his balls when he slips in and out at a brutal pace- both of you quickly cumming as you yank on his collar to force him to cry out into your ear when he finishes

I need to rip him open like a bag of candy i love Sub!Mike

[illusioninfnty]

hunt him down! ↠ day 24 ; primal play

↠ mike munroe x reader

fandom: until dawn word count: 916 warnings: nsfw 18+, physical traits of reader (taller than mike and muscular), dom!reader, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, slight aftercare, outlast!au (if Tex!reader was straight…shudder)

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You can hear his breathing.

The snow crunches beneath your feet as you hunt for him. Your breath is visible in front of you, the cold air stinging your cheeks as you steady your breathing.

Mike had brought up the idea first. You were experienced in this type of hunt, learning from your parents, and he wanted to see just how well you could do.

If you caught him, he would be your reward.

You know you're close, and you slow down your pace so he doesn’t hear you. The whistle of the wind is just loud enough that you believe you’re able to cover your tracks.

But then a twig snaps under your foot, and you can see his shape dart out from a nearby tree and through the woods.

You know the quickest way to reach him, your knowledge in the terrain coming handy as you weave your way in and out of trees, tracking Mike’s steps as he runs away from you.

The quickness of your route allows you to find him easily, and you act fast so he can’t escape this time. You grab him by his arm, tugging him close to your chest and wrapping your own around his neck. “Got you.”

Mike shudders under your hold, your warm breath close in his ear.

“You’re a fucking psycho,” he answers you lightly.

“Maybe. But you still love me.” You give him a quick peck on his cheek and squeeze the skin between your gloved fingers. “Hell, it’s fucking cold out here.”

Looking around to get a sense of exactly where you are, you spot a cabin in the distance. You smirk, your plan forming quickly in your head.

“Come on.” You drag Mike along with you. “I’m getting my reward now.”

“N-now?” he sputters, his eyes dart back and forth. “What if someone sees us?”

You roll your eyes. “Not out here, you idiot. We’d get hypothermia. Over there.” You point out the cabin, all dark and more than likely completely abandoned.

Mike’s eyes widen in realization. “Damn. Alright.”

The walk takes only a couple of minutes, the two of you scrambling just as much to reach your destination. When you reach the door, you try the doorknob and the entrance opens up easily. You pull Mike in, slamming the door behind you with your foot as you smash your lips onto his.

You begin to undo all of his outerwear, starting with his coat. As you undress him, he opens his mouth slightly in a moan, and you stick your tongue in. You kiss him with vigor, swirling your tongue around with his. His hands move down your body, removing your own clothes. 

Soon the two of you are completely bare, and you maneuver yourself so that you push him onto the couch, a string of saliva connecting as your lips part.

Mike’s cock is already hard, throbbing in anticipation. You crawl on top of him, brushing your front against the head of cock. He moans and jerks up from the contact.

“You ready for me?” you ask, teasing your slit over his cock, wetting yourself with his precum.

He nods. “Always.”

You lower yourself onto him slowly, moaning at the way he stretches you open. You start riding him, arching your back and digging your nails into his chest. He groans, and you grip him harder.

His hands move up to hold you at your hips. “So tight,” Mike whispers, his knuckles turning white with how hard he grips onto you. You clench around him more, and he bucks his hips up into you.

“You like that?” you murmur to him, your hands slowly traveling up his chest and resting against his neck, putting light pressure on it.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out.

Your hands tighten around his neck, choking him. His mouth widens in a gasp as his eyes roll back, and his hips rut up into you. You increase the pace of your own bounces, the sounds of skin slapping together louder than ever.

“There you go,” you coo gently. Mike moans at your praise. His cock pulses harshly inside you, and he cums unexpectedly—much earlier than he ever had before.

He fills you up completely, some of the liquid spilling out the sides of your walls and onto his lower stomach. You continue to ride him as his orgasm washes over him, his cum lubing you up to make your movements even slicker.

Mike soon whines from the overstimulation, and you let go of his neck as his body trembles from the overwhelming sensations. His gasps come in short breaths as he brings up a hand to rub his neck.

You pull yourself completely off of him, more of his cum spilling out of your hole. You roll over and move to find a bathroom in the cabin, coming back to Mike with some towels and a cup of water for him.

Kissing his cheek, you begin to wipe his body clean. As you look out the window, you see that the snow has begun to fall faster, the visibility of the outdoors much lower than usual.

“Crap. The weather got a lot worse,” you say, biting your lip. “I don’t think it’s safe to go back to the lodge like this.”

Mike pauses and looks as though he’s pretending to think hard. “I guess we can cuddle instead.”

You playful punch his shoulder and wrap your arms around his midsection. “Come here, you big goof.”

[left4dead4everr]

It’s so nice to see someone writing Mlm stuff for until dawn!! 🙏

Hope this isn’t an odd request but could we possibly get some Hcs about Mike trying to get over internalized homophobia when crushing/dating male!reader?

Mike Munroe crushing on a male reader

Pairings | Michael "Mike" Munroe X male!reader hcs

Game | Until Dawn

A/n | anon, there are no odd requests here! If it's not on my 'I don't write' list, I'll do it ;) anyways any excuse to write mlm is what I'm here for! I hope you enjoy x

-Mr. Michael Munroe the classic all american man who's the class president, good-looking, a ladies' man, charismatic, the list goes on!

-He's always identified as straight, always having girlfriends and female flings never once has he ever looked at a guy in that way

-He's not homophobic. I mean, he's totally cool with gay people, but he wouldn't kiss a guy or crush on one just because that's not what he's into

-Well that's how he felt before he met you.

-Once meeting you, he found himself feeling conflicted, having thoughts and feelings about you that he'd usually have for women.

-Trying to pass this off as admiration because you're a cool dude, he would often tell himself that it was wrong for him to see you that way, that you're just a bro and nothing more, that he just looks up to you.

-At first it wasn't so bad, just the average thoughts of

'Holy shit this guy is so cool'

Which eventually led up to him wondering what it would be like to hold your hand at times

-You could suspect that something was up with him due to the way he'd act around you no matter how hard he tried to keep up this whole "oh I love women I'm a tough guy" act

-If you play any sort of sports with him chances are after you're done with practice he'll come up to you and congratulate you in the..oddest way

'Hell yeah man you looked good on that field..I mean like you played..you..I don't mean that in a..you did good man.'

-In the locker rooms he'd subtly not so subtly eye you as you changed, if you or anyone caught his wondering eye he'd say he was just trying to compare your muscles to his and then start flexing and bragging about how his build is wayy better than yours to throw people off

-See with Mike he wouldn't be totally upfront with his feelings, I mean after he realizes that he likes you he's constantly fighting with himself.

-He's always liked and dated girls. He shouldn't have these feelings for you. I mean, what if people found out he liked a guy.. What if YOU found out? What would people think of him then

-In his mind, people would shun him. He wouldn't be the class president anymore or have that high pedestal he was put on

-He's scared of his feelings, but that's something he'd never ever admit.

-Him? Scared? Pffftt you gotta be joking!

-In all seriousness he'd never be willing to tell you he liked you, too scared of what others would think, too scared of coming to terms that he liked a man

-He'd keep his feelings to himself, going out one night to party and get with a few different girls just to keep his mind off of you but no matter how hard he tried, you didn't leave his mind

-Eventually, one night, he got a little too drunk off his ass and made his way over to your dorm at the ripe time of 4am

-After a few minutes of banging on the door and inaudible drunken mumbles you opened the door, clearly just woken up

-Sober Mike wouldn't do this, he wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for the alcohol giving him courage. Once he laid his eyes on you his lips formed into a smirk as he leaned in the doorway almost slumped down fully

-After a few drunken chuckles and nonsensical mumbling he'd eventually be straightforward.

'Look *hic* look man not in a *hic* weird way, and you have to be totally cool about *hic* this! I fucking like you man like..like how I do women and *hic* I.."

-Mike would start to cry. Cry because he was starting to realize in his drunken state what he was doing. That he was standing at the doorway of your dorm, drunkenly confessing his feelings for you just because he felt a little confidence boost from the alcohol that he chugged down earlier that night

-As you went to console him, you put your hand onto his shoulder. He flinched away from your touch before semi aggressively wiping his face

-In his mind it was like a battlefield with himself. With who he was. With his feelings

-When you offered to let him stay the night..or well actually insisted he stayed, he was hesitant but knew that he would crash at any moment so he let you guide him inside and onto your bed

-It took him a little to get adjusted but once he did he crashed, falling asleep in your bed, snoring heavily as he tangled himself up in your sheets

-It really was a sight, seeing mike wrapped up in your blankets, in your bed, in your dorm. Truth be told you've been crushing on him for a while now, falling in love since you first laid your eyes on him but he didn't entirely seem like he was into you..

-As mike snored loudly as you made your bed on the floor out of some clothes and a thin blanket you had laying around, you didn't mind, honestly!

-As you stayed staring at the ceiling you listened to mike snore, thinking about his words..he liked you huh? You smiled to yourself as you slowly began to fall out of consciousness, eventually falling asleep

-The next morning after you both woke up, he'd thank you for letting him crash in your dorm and ask if he did anything regrettable last night

-Once you took a moment to tell him what he said in the most calm way ever you could tell he was panicking

-He stood up from your bed, his breathing picking up noticeably. shame, fear, and something else you couldn't quite read showed from him

-After trying to apologize in a very poor way, to his surprise you were okay with it, doing your best to calm him as you stood up and walked closer to him

-Not sure of what to do he'd run his hands through his his before shaking his head

'Fuck..listen I was drunk last night. You gotta believe me! Please don't tell anyone about this man I was just wasted and you know how it is when people party like that!'

-After you shrugged it off saying it was okay, he felt sort of..calm..

-He'd awkwardly say he had to go and make his way to the door, you following behind. As he was about to leave he turned on his heel to face you awkwardly putting his fist out for a fist bump as one final 'thanks'

'Thanks again man, I'll uh,, see you at practice, yeah?'

'Yeah. Yeah sure thing mike..hey just know if you ever feel curious or something like that you know where to find me'

-He'd awkwardly chuckle before leaving your dorm and making his way down the hall, the thought of what you said crossed his mind

-He wasn't sure what this meant for him but he wasn't totally opposed to the offer..