#richie after dark

[jonathanrook]

i think i might just find a real nice place to put my knife

is that a knife in my pocket or am i just happy to see you? happy ween

[cwcthzl]

richie the type of guy to create numberless different accounts on every social media platform possible and lie his ass off about his personal information/day-to-day life just because he can

[jazzdailyblog]

Unveiling the Brilliance of George Coleman: A Jazz Icon

Introduction: George Coleman, a legendary saxophonist and composer, has left an indelible mark on the world of jazz. With a career spanning over six decades, Coleman’s innovative approach to music and his virtuosic saxophone playing have earned him a place among the jazz greats. Early Life and Career Beginnings: Born eighty-nine years ago today on March 8, 1935, in Memphis, Tennessee, Coleman…

[geroya]

i KNOW i should go eep bc u know ur lil guy hasnt slept very well the last few days but uhhh also what if i didnt

[majorbaby]

"Richie’s reading (which, based on his loose plot description to Carmy, seems to be Haruki Murakami’s 2013 novel, “Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage”)" (source)

wild if true lol because 1) that would mean michael and richie uhhh 2) i continue to be haunted by murakami which itself is a very murakamian thing to happen to a person

[hecame]

[ MOUTH ] — sender gives receiver oral (Richie)

He hadn't thought that Richie would turn up . It had been a while since they'd seen each other , texts landing in each other's phones && left without response .

03/ 06 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] Monsoon season ? 06/ 11 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊 ] Heat wave. 42 degrees.

12/ 15 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] Snow . 12/ 15 [ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] Miss you , Arden.

He thinks for a moment .

[ 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 : ━━━━━━━━ 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄 ] location pin dropped.

He'd set himself up at the bar , only HALF waiting - already pretty sure that there was no chance that Richie was close enough to meet up even if he WANTED to . But then there's a hand on his shoulder , && when he turns there's a pair of eyes looking back at him that he knows so WELL at this point , he thinks he could pick them out of a line up.

Soft Heys , a handshake that feels WAY too formal . There must have been some conversation in there - about where he was posted , or whether he just happened to be passing through . But all of that is lost in a JUMBLE of the time it took before they're stumbling out of the back door of the bar , hands working at each other's belts .

They were never very good at keeping their hands off of each other .

It's cold outside , ice on the ground - those soft flakes of white drifting down . Beck's hands numb pretty much instantly but he warms them against Richie's waist as they SMACK themselves into the wall by the extractors for the building's heating . It's warm there , like they're next to a crackling fire && Beck sighs gently - lets it fall into a moan as the soldier lowers himself to his knees.

❝ ugh . fucking hell . ❞ He watches as those sure fingers undo his zipper and shift his clothing aside to give himself room - arching his back gently , thumbing carefully over the SCAR etched into Richie's cheek . He's hardening as soon as he's taken in the taller man's hand , groaning as he feels the warmth of his mouth over his tip - tongue swirling underneath the head.

❝ God , Richie . Fuck - ❞ fingers are CLAWS on his shoulder , holding him close . ❝ I want you . Take me apart . ❞

[thebearer]

nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 

There you were. 

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 

From: Richie 

‘Look at table nine.’ 

Sugar huffed. 

To: Richie 

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 

To: Richie 

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 

From: Richie 

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

[alisonsfics]

secret’s out

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: you and carmy have been able to successfully hide your relationship from your friends for four months. but when they all get invited to carmy’s apartment for a party, they find something that spoils your secret relationship.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, smut implications

“We really have to get back out there, Carmy,” you mumbled against his lips. You tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed your hips and held you still.

“Don’t wanna. Just wanna stay right here with you,” he protested, moving your hands back to where they had been in his hair. Carmy loved the feeling of your fingers running through his curls. “They’re gonna realize we’re gone,” you tried to protest, but Carmy was making it difficult.

You hummed contently as Carmy’s hands ran down your sides. “You really wanna leave?” He teased you. Carmy could read you like the back of his hand.

“You know I don’t, but we don’t want all our friends to realize we’re dating, do we?” You asked him.

Carmy finally pulled out of the kiss. “I just miss you. That’s all. I see you everyday but we have act like we’re just coworkers. And we have to be so careful. I have to watch every move I make around you. I know we can’t, but I just wish I could flaunt you to everyone.” He told you, honestly.

You took his hands and interlaced your fingers with his. “I know, baby. I’ll make it up to you later, though.” You flirted, kissing the inside of his wrist.

Carmy huffed. “We have that party later at my place with everybody, where I once again won’t even be allowed to hold your hand or…do this,” Carmy said, trying to distract you. He attached his lips behind your ear, sucking softly on your skin. He knew how much you loved it.

“We always have after the party.” You said, pressing a kiss to Carmy’s neck.

“God, I love you,” Carmy said, with awe in his eyes. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before sneaking back into the kitchen. You waited a few minutes before joining him, so no one would get suspicious.

Later at the party, you and Carmy were making sure to keep your distance. If you both were inseparable, your friends would figure it out pretty quickly.

Carmy was in the kitchen chatting with Fak and Marcus. You were sitting in the living room with Richie, Sydney, Nat, and Tina. Every once in a while, Carmy would meet your gaze and smirk at you as he took a sip of his beer. You tried your best to maintain a straight face.

Richie was in the middle of a rant about god knows what. You had been zoned out for the past few minutes, and now you had no idea what he was talking about.

“The fuck keeps poking me?” Richie grumbled, bringing your attention back to the conversation. Richie stood up and started pushing the couch cushions on the couch that him, Syd, and Nat were sitting on.

You all watched him in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about? There’s nothing there, Richie.” Sydney told him. Richie kept searching the couch. “No, see. Right here,” he said, finally realizing where the mystery object was.

Richie stuck his hand behind the cushion, grabbed it, and then held it up.

The four of you froze when you realized what it was.

Richie was holding up a dark red lacy bra.

Your bra.

But no one knew that.

“Yo, cousin,” Richie yelled, successfully grabbing Carmy’s attention. “Yo, what’s up?” Carmy asked, walking around the corner. He froze when he saw what was in Richie’s hand.

There was complete silence for a second as everyone realized what was happening.

Then, chaos erupted.

Natalie and Sydney jumped off the couch. “I am never sitting on this couch again.” Natalie said with visible disgust on her face. Carmy’s face turned the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

Marcus let out a whistle, embarrassing Carmy further. “Who does this belong to, cousin?” Richie asked, intrigued by Carmy’s mystery woman.

You stayed seated in the armchair, trying to make sure there wasn’t embarrassment written on your face too.

“Fuckin’ give that to me,” Carmy said, snatching the bra out of Richie’s hand and storming into his room. You heard him slam his dresser drawer after stuffing your bra in there.

You remembered back to the night that your bra ended up in the couch. You had just bought a new bra to surprise Carmy. He was a big fan of the purchase. In summary, it didn’t stay on very long and you both never even made it to Carmy’s bed.

Carmy came back into the room and avoided eye contact with the whole group. “So, who’s the girl, Berzatto?” You asked, teasingly. You knew if you were the only one who didn’t tease him, they’d get suspicious. You watched a smirk start to form on his face, but he stopped himself.

“Wouldn’t you all like to know?” Carmy answered without answering. He retreated back to the kitchen, searching for his keys. Richie and Marcus followed right behind him, practically whispering in his ear.

“Who’s the special lady, chef?” Marcus asked him. “None of your fuckin’ business, you assholes,” Carmy said with a chuckle. Richie threw his arm around Carmy’s shoulders, holding him close. “No wonder you’ve been so much more tolerable lately. You’ve been getting laid.” Richie said, smirking at Carmy.

“I’m taking a smoke break. Please don’t follow me.” Carmy said, ducking out the door.

“Who do you guys think the girl is? Is it Claire?” Sydney asked, looking over at you and Sugar. Sugar was quick to shake her head no. “I don’t think it’s Claire. I don’t think it’s anyone we know. I mean, he’s clearly crazy about her, and that’s why he hasn’t told anybody. He doesn’t want anybody to scare her off.” She added.

“What do you mean? You think this is a group of people that would scare a girl away. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, sarcastically.

“Guys, he left his phone.” Richie cheered, running over to the living room. You felt your stomach drop. The only proof that Richie could find about yours and Carmy’s relationship was in your phones. Carmy always made sure to hide the pictures of you both in his apartment when he had friends over.

You mentally prayed to any deity that would listen. You needed Richie to not get into Carmy’s phone. Just like that, you watched Richie perfectly guess Carmy’s password.

“Alright, c’mon cousin. You gotta have a picture of this mystery girl.” Richie said, clicking on the photos app. You wracked your brain for any reason to get that phone out of Richie’s hand.

The first photo Richie pulled up was a picture of yours and Carmy’s shadows. You’d both gone for a walk along the river, and Carmy had taken a picture of your shadows as you held hands.

Marcus and Sydney started booing that they couldn’t see the girls face, so Richie kept scrolling. He came onto another gem that was just a picture of your hand holding Carmy’s. You felt yourself start to hide your hands in your lap.

Richie started scrolling faster, getting more desperate for answers. You felt your heart skip a beat as he stopped on a picture.

It was a spicier picture.

One night with Carmy, as things got a little heated, he stopped to take your picture. He said you looked like the most beautiful woman on the planet, so he took a picture to commemorate it.

It was taken from his perspective as he was straddling you. It showed you lying on Carmy’s bed in a matching bra and panties set. Your hair was messy, and your lipstick was smeared. And to top it off, Carmy’s very recognizable tattooed hand was resting on your stomach.

You practically leapt across the room and snatched the phone out of Richie’s hand. Every person in the room was staring at you with shock and disbelief on their faces.

“It’s you? You’re fucking Carm?” Richie almost yelled. You had worried that your friends were getting suspicious, but it was clear from their reactions that they didn’t expect it at all.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You lied, slipping Carmy’s phone into your back pocket. They all clearly knew you were lying, but you were completely on the spot. You didn’t know what to say, and Carmy wasn’t even there to take some of the heat.

“You’re fucking my brother? You’ve told me stories about your sex life. Those were about my little brother?” Natalie asked, once again disgusted. She retreated to the kitchen to refill her wine glass. “You know what? Good for you. You saw what you wanted and you got it, but at the same time, I think I know too much about you both know.” Sydney tried to be supportive. You giggled at her response and accepted the high five she gave you.

Then, the door flung open, and Carmy walked back inside. “Well well well,” Richie said, turning to face Carmy with an almost wicked grin. You could see the light drain out of Carmy’s eyes.

“They know, Carmy,” you filled him in. He took a second to process your words. He hoped you weren’t talking about what he knew you were. “You told them?” He asked you.

Before you could respond, Richie butted in. “No, she didn’t. Something else told us,” Richie said, still smirking. He loved watched Carmy squirm as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“What’s he talking about?” Carmy asked, looking to you for help.

“You need to change your phone password. Richie was able to guess it.” You explained. Carmy froze before patting his pockets to check for his phone. You slid it out of your pocket and held it up to show him.

“All I have to say is well done.” Richie continued to tease him. Carmy walked over towards you and nudged you out of your seat. He sat down and pulled you down onto his lap. If everybody knew, he wasn’t going to sit on the other side of the room from you anymore.

“What did they see?” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a look that made him question whether he wanted to know or not. You unlocked his phone, turned down the brightness, and then showed him the photo. “Oh, shit. They saw that,” Carmy said, his eyes growing wide.

“Yeah, we saw it. And now we can’t unsee our friend doing things with our brother.” Sugar called out from the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Sugar. I really am. I wish I told you sooner.” You apologized to her. She quickly shook her head. “Fuck telling me sooner. I don’t want to know sooner. I want to un-know. Please wipe my memory,” she said, earning a laugh from the room.

“That’s my favorite picture of you, y’know?” Carmy whispered in your ear so no one would hear him.

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[jonathanrook]

bought a new shirt today (two. uh. nsft. bonuses under cut oops)

[halfmoonaria]

to see you

pairing: sam carpenter & reader

summary: sam sleeps so she can see you, 'cause she hates to wait so long.

word count: 3.1k

Sam had never had nightmares.

Not as a kid, not after watching scary movies with Tara. Not after Richie's betrayal, or even after facing multiple Ghostfaces.

In fact, there were times she wondered if she was living in a nightmare instead of just having them. The terror and chaos of her life often felt surreal, like something out of a twisted dream.

Sleep had always been her refuge, a place where the horrors of her waking life couldn't reach her.

But a few weeks ago, that changed.

The nightmares crept in, so vivid and intense that she could no longer tell where reality ended and the nightmares began. The terror felt as real as any Ghostface attack she had faced, blurring the lines between her waking life and the horrors in her mind.

It started subtly at first—restless nights, an uneasy feeling as she drifted off. Then, the vivid dreams began.

Dark, haunting, relentless.

They felt different from anything she had ever experienced, filled with an unshakable sense of dread that lingered long after she woke.

Each night, the dreams grew more intense. She would find herself back in the old theater, shadows stretching out like claws, and a gnawing fear she couldn't place.

It was as if the nightmares were trying to tell her something, dragging her back to a place she wanted desperately to forget.

During the day, she could push the thoughts away, bury herself in distractions. But as soon as she closed her eyes, the darkness would pull her back in, forcing her to confront the memories she had tried so hard to suppress.

Sam had always prided herself on her strength, her ability to face any challenge head-on. But these nightmares were different.

They felt deeply personal, laced with guilt and regret. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape them.

Just like now, as she lay in her bed. The room was dimly lit by the early morning light filtering through the curtains, casting long shadows that only seemed to deepen her unease.

She stirred slightly, her mind caught between the lingering dream and waking reality.

And then, she saw you, sitting on the side of her bed near her feet.

You looked just as you had the last time she saw you; eyes wide with fear, your clothes soaked in blood.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she blinked, trying to clear her vision. Slowly, she pushed herself up, her breath hitching as she took in the sight of you.

Your eyes met hers, and for a moment, she was lost in them. Those eyes, so hauntingly beautiful, were the first thing she had fallen in love with. They held a depth and emotion that spoke volumes, even now in the quiet of the room.

She remembered how they used to change shape when you laughed or smiled, crinkling at the corners in a way that made her heart flutter. She hadn't appreciated those small details when you were actually still here, too blinded by her own fears and suspicions.

But now that you were gone, those memories were all she had left. The light in your eyes, the warmth they held when they met hers, the soft wrinkles that formed at their edges—these were the things she cherished and missed the most.

She glanced around the room, searching for something to anchor her to the present.

The walls were lined with reminders of the past—photos of her with Tara, mementos of happier times. But all they did was remind her of what she had lost, of who she had lost.

Sam reached out, her hand trembling, but the closer she got, the more distant you seemed.

The room around her felt like it was closing in, the shadows growing darker, more menacing.

She wanted to speak, to say something, anything, to make it right, but the words caught in her throat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with all the things left unsaid.

Then, the silence shattered as you spoke, your voice a soft, chilling whisper.

"Sam." The way you said her name, cold and distant, sent shivers down her spine.

It almost looked as if you were looking at her, your eyes piercing through the veil of sleep and dream, anchoring her in this chilling reality.

The sound of it, so familiar yet not at all, twisted the knife of guilt deeper into her heart.

Sam's breath hitched as your gaze seemed to penetrate her very soul. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of regret and desperation.

"Y/n?" she finally managed to whisper, her voice cracking under the weight of the single word. "What are you doing here?"

Your expression remained unchanged, unreadable. The shadows around you seemed to pulse with each beat of her heart, enveloping you in an otherworldly darkness.

"I'm here because you need to remember," you replied, your voice echoing with an eerie calm.

"Remember what?" Sam asked, her fingers clenching into fists at her sides.

"You know," you said, the air around you growing colder. "Remember what happened that night."

Sam's mind flashed back to that fateful night, the memory she had tried so hard to bury. The old theater, the blood, the terror—everything came rushing back in a flood of overwhelming emotion.

"I remember," she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling. "I remember everything."

Sam didn't want to remember. She wanted to forget.

She wanted to forget about how she'd hesitated, about how she'd treated you, about what had ultimately happened to you.

But in moments like these, as your image haunted her dreams, she realized she never would. The memories were a relentless tide, surging back to drown her, reminding her that some things were impossible to bury.

In truth, she shouldn't have expected anything else. Life had a cruel way of reminding her of her failures.

The horror of that night, the way she had turned on you, suspected you, left you alone—it was all too harsh a reminder of her own shortcomings.

She had pushed you away, driven by fear and mistrust, and now she was left to face the consequences of her actions.

Your eyes never left hers, filled with a sorrowful intensity that made it impossible for her to look away. "Do you remember why I was alone that night?" you asked, your voice cutting through her defenses like a

How could she not? The echo of that night was a constant, cruel reminder, reverberating through her mind with every moment of silence.

The argument, the distrust, the way she had pushed you away—it replayed in her thoughts, relentless and unforgiving.

Every time she was alone, the memory surfaced, an insidious whisper in the quiet. It lingered in the gaps of conversation, haunting her when she was most vulnerable.

"I was scared and I screwed up," Sam said quietly. "I thought I was protecting Tara." She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. "And myself."

The words felt bitter on her tongue. As soon as they left her lips, Sam felt a wave of self-reproach wash over her. It sounded like she was admitting she was scared of you, as if you were the threat all along.

But that wasn't true; she had never truly been afraid of you. She felt foolish for implying it, knowing deep down that her fear had been misplaced, and now it was too late to make things right.

She noticed your expression change, the sorrow in your eyes deepening. Panic welled up inside her, and she began to ramble, desperate to explain.

"I was afraid," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I thought... I thought you might be Ghostface. I left you alone because I didn't trust you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She felt a deep sense of shame and guilt, wishing she could crawl out of her own skin. The weight of her mistakes pressed down on her, almost suffocating.

She dared to meet your gaze again, and for a moment, she saw the eyes she had once loved.

They were captivating—deep pools of warmth and vulnerability that had always drawn her in.

They held a beauty that made her heart ache, a softness that had once been a refuge from the chaos of her life.

But then, as she stared, the familiar tenderness seemed to twist and darken.

The eyes she had always known began to harden, the warmth replaced by an unsettling chill. What was once an intimate reflection of love and trust now seemed distant and cold, as if an impenetrable shadow had taken its place.

They looked nothing like the eyes she remembered, and she couldn't bring herself to think that it really was.

"Maybe a part of you wanted it to be me?" you said, your voice tinged with a sharp edge.

"You never fully believed in me," you continued, the harshness of your new gaze cutting through the room. "In your fear, you wanted to prove yourself right. Is that right?"

Sam's heart pounded in her chest, guilt tightening their grip.

A part of what you said was true, and that realization hit her like a punch to the gut forcing her to gulp.

She had trouble trusting you ever since you first got together, haunted by the betrayals of her past. Despite her hope that she'd eventually warm up and love you the way you deserved, the walls she had built remained firmly in place.

Throughout your relationship, her cruelty had taken many forms. She remembered the harsh words she had thrown at you in moments of insecurity, accusing you of things you never did.

The cold stares she gave you when you tried to get close, the way she dismissed your acts of kindness as if they were nothing. She had pushed you away, not just that night, but constantly, making you feel unwanted and unloved.

You had always been so kind, always doing little things to show you cared. She recalled the times you made her coffee in the morning, the meals you cooked when she was too tired, the small gifts you gave just to see her smile.

But instead of gratitude, she met your efforts with cold indifference. "I didn't ask for this," she'd often say, brushing you off as if your gestures meant nothing.

She recalled the nights you stayed up late to comfort her, only to be met with indifference. The times you planned thoughtful gestures to make her smile, which she brushed off with an unkind remark.

Every time she shut you out, every time she made you feel less than, it all came crashing down on her now, the weight of her actions suffocating.

"I never wanted it to be you. I just...I didn't know how to love you the way you loved me," she finally whispered, her voice breaking.

"Scared?" you replied, your voice a mix of anger and sorrow. "I understand fear, Sam. But I never understood why you directed it at me."

You looked at her with those haunting eyes, now filled with a pain that mirrored her own. "I loved you, and I only wanted to be there for you. But you pushed me away, treated me like an enemy."

The room seemed to grow colder as your words hung in the air. "I needed you, Sam. And you left me alone to die."

Sam's heart clenched painfully at your words, the truth of them striking deep. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her, almost suffocating. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, memories flooded her mind, pulling her back to the night that haunted her.

The fight had been fierce. Her mistrust was baseless, a projection of her own insecurities. She had accused you of being distant, of hiding something. When in reality, she was the one who had been acting off, but admitting that felt impossible. She blamed you, as she always did.

Her voice had been sharp, cutting through the air with cruel accusations. She remembered the way you had looked at her—hurt, confused, and trying to calm her down. You had reached out to touch her arm, your voice soft and soothing, but she had pulled away, anger flaring even more. She accused you of betraying her, of secrets that only existed in her mind.

You tried to reason with her, your eyes pleading for understanding. But she was too far gone in her rage, too blinded by her own fears to see the truth. You had stepped back, shoulders slumping in defeat as you realized she wouldn't listen.

Later, after everything had happened, she would remember the look in your eyes during that fight. The way you had looked at her with so much pain, so much confusion.

It was only after, in the quiet moments when she was alone with her thoughts, that she realized how deeply she had hurt you. You had looked at her as if trying to understand how she could even entertain the thought that it could be you.

Then after she had made the mistake of leaving you alone with a serial killer on the run. After she had fought off the Ghostfaces; who were revealed to be Quinn, Ethan, and Detective Bailey—and managed to escape with Tara, the relief of surviving felt hollow and incomplete.

She had been desperate to get to safety, to find a way out of the nightmare she was trapped in.

Eventually, she had found you,but the sight that greeted her was more harrowing than she had ever imagined.

The blood was everywhere, pooling around you, staining your clothes, and smeared across the floor. The sight was horrifying, a nightmarish tableau that she couldn't erase from her mind.

Your eyes, once so full of life, were bloodshot and terrified, darting around as if looking for help that wouldn't come. You were barely breathing, each shallow breath a struggle.

Your pretty clothes, which you had worn for the evening, were soaked in crimson, a stark contrast to their original color.

She had dropped to her knees beside you, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried to stop the bleeding with anything she could find. Her voice, usually so strong, had broken into desperate sobs as she called your name, begging you to stay with her.

But it had been too late. Your eyes had looked up at her, filled with pain and fear, before closing forever.

The horror of that moment, the overwhelming sense of loss and guilt, had never left her. It was a scene she replayed over and over, a reminder of her failures and the consequences of her distrust.

She had pushed you away, driven by fear, and in the end, she had lost you. And you never made her forget.

You made sure of it. Every single night.

She blinked, realizing with a jolt that you were still in front of her.

Usually, in her dreams, you'd be gone by now. You never stayed long. But here you were, your presence as haunting and real as ever.

Her throat felt dry, almost as if she was being choked, the suffocating sensation of the nightmare gripping her.

She swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to continue. "I'm sorry you don't get to be here.. I know how much you wanted to."

You had always found joy in the little things, always had a smile for her, no matter how cold she had been.

"I love you," she said, her voice barely audible. "I always did. I'm so sorry."

A tear slid down your cheek, glistening in the dim light, as you gazed at her with a sadness that seemed to encompass the entire room.

Sam's heart ached as she looked at you. Seeing you cry now, in this haunting, surreal moment, filled her with a profound regret. When you were alive, she had brushed off your tears, indifferent to your pain.

"Sam," you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and frustration, "Why didn't you tell me this when I was alive?"

Sam's bottom lip began to tremble. She truly didn't know that to answer, if she said she did; she'd be lying. If she tried to excuse herself she would feel disgusted by her own words, and if she'd be silence, you'd say something else.

Although she didn't have time to answer, before you began to disintegrate. The edges of your form blurred, and your figure grew increasingly translucent.

Panic surged through Sam as she watched you slip away. "No, please," she begged, her voice cracking. "Don't go. Please, stay."

Her pleas were desperate, her hands reaching out to grasp the empty air where you had been. But it was too late. You vanished completely, leaving her alone in the cold, dark room.

She jolted awake, heart racing, drenched in sweat. The room was silent and still, the early morning light casting soft shadows on the walls. She sat up, gasping for air, her mind reeling from the vivid terror of the dream.

With a start, Sam woke up, heart pounding, drenched in sweat. She sat up, gasping for air, her mind reeling from the vivid terror of the dream.

The room around her was silent and still, the only thing being heard was her panting and the morning birds chirping outside her window.

The air felt heavy with the remnants of your presence. The warmth and scent that lingered in the air, traces of you, became a haunting echo in the emptiness.

As if you'd actually been there.

Everything had felt so real. It always did.

Which was why most nights, she slept to see you. She couldn't bear to wait until death's cold grip might finally reunite you, however distant that might be.

She went to bed in hopes of seeing you, to beg for the forgiveness she couldn't ask for in life.

Even though it was nightmares, and even though it wasn't the real you, she saw you.

And it felt real.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

More of my favorite Prudes <3

Alright, left to right, top to bottom:

1. I just get the vibe that Grace has beef with Richie specifically but for no discernable reason ("Richie, the whole point is that it's in the dark!" + "No, this is where you GROW UP!") and the second the sentence popped into my head I had to draw it. Also consider how goddamn funny the image of Grace pulling bleach and gloves and a bone saw out of her backpack is because holy shit did she have a contingency plan

2. I think that Pete saw Ted as the coolest big brother in the world right up until the exact minute he introduced him to Steph and suddenly Ted had the power to be very embarrassing in front of Pete's friends. (He would be used to this, as this is standard older sibling shithead behavior, but he's never had friends for Ted to tease him in front of.) I do think the Spankoffski brothers are really interesting, especially with what an asshole Ted is. In Abstinence Camp Pete does seem to really look up to him. Ted does not hide the fact that he's a massive prick, so the fact that Pete sees him as a positive figure implies that he's one of the very few people that Ted actually tries to be a good person for. Makes a lot of sense too, the age gap between them is massive, so Pete has no way of knowing the kind of sleazy shit Ted does, he's just the cool older brother to him. Also heheheh I did the funny meme

3. All her brothers got one so I gave Webby a humansona. I don't know why she ended up looking like 90s Gwen Stacy but I kinda like it? I was going for classic straight-a student, not quite as frilly as Grace, but very academic and cute. I also think that Webby should be allowed to be a little cosmically horrifying as a treat (watching her casually fucking evaporate Willabella was so unnerving and cool, I would love more of that.) She lets herself be soft and gentle for Hannah's benefit, don't want to scare a little kid after all, but she exists far beyond those... Limitations.

4. Ok this one is highly inspired by a series of drawings by @samglyph , the concept of Ghost Ruth and Richie took my brain captive. So go show them some love!!!!!

[chefkids]

Claire is Carmy's projection of Sydney.

Costuming is one of the most straightforward ways to tell an audience what a character is like and what their role is. Claire's costuming choices show how she was literally just a clear blank slate for Carmy to project Syd onto. So come peel this onion with me.

When he first sees her after being away from him for a while she's wearing a green jacket, who else famously has worn a green puffer jacket all throughout the series and when she reconnected with Carmy after she left?

When he takes Claire on that post office trip drive through Sydney's favorite UPS route, Sheridan Road, she's wearing a brown jacket which looks very similar to the kinds that UPS drivers like Sydney would wear.

When Claire is at the party with him trying to get with Carmy and pursue a new relationship, she just had a denim jacket. Which we have also seen Sydney wear a denim jacket around him when they were trying to start a new relationship aka partnership together by building the new restaurant.

And then we see her white button shirt, dark pants, and the blue denim jacket when Carmy takes her back to the restaurant, which is basically all Carmy saw Syd wearing for most of the time while at the restaurant when she was in her white button down, dark pants, and blue apron.

When he cooks for Claire we see her for the first time in a tank top at the exact same time we see Sydney the most undressed she's ever been in a bra.

When she's in his kitchen she's in his white t-shirt she tries to have a somewhat vulnerable moment with him. She asks him what he is thinking about when he's clearly stressed and he deflects to just complement her. Later when he is with Syd in her white t-shirt in their kitchen at The Bear, he is vulnerable with her about his mother and tries to get her to be vulnerable with him and she finally tells him about her mom dying.

At Friends & Family night is the one time we see her dressed in the most uniquely herself way in a black dress, and she looks like she's ready for a funeral. Which it essentially was the death of her and Carmy's relationship that night. We also know that this is what Sydney will be doing at the start of Season 3, going to a funeral with Carmy. RIP Claire. (yes i know it's marcus' mom but the metaphor is still there and this is still a comedy after all)

Claire has very little identity of her own because Carmy never bothers to know her like he knows Syd. When Claire is on her own she's always in her scrubs, because he doesn't have much else of an image of her besides the fact that she's a doctor now. But he knows Syd well enough to know the exact designer brand she likes to wear and make her a custom jacket.

He knows about Syd's mom dying because he repeatedly asks her about her family and parents without even knowing them. Claire told him about her cousin dying and he basically said "damn that sucks" even though he knew him personally. He knows about Syd's struggles with her job history through catering and fine dining. Claire told him about her life as a doctor and the only thing he came out with was that it was a time intensive job and that he thought she liked taking care of people by helping to fix them. Which is exactly what he tells Sydney he notices about her later on. She likes to take care of people and to fix things like she tried to fix the restaurant.

He didn't give af about Claire's life or personality, he just wanted to project Sydney's onto it. Carmy wanted to want to be with Claire, because everyone around him told him it was what he should want from Mikey to Fak to Richie. So he chose to see and project as much of Syd, who he already knew deep down he liked but was too scared to pursue, on to Claire. That's why he took her on that drive and why he made her the Sydney's pasta recipe that he knew Sydney already liked. Because he doesn't bother getting to know Claire, he just assumes Sydney's identity on to her. And what he did come to know and do with her that was her choice, like going to a party with drunk friends, only ended up associating her with his alcoholic mother and his brother at their Christmas party.

And in the end he still realized he couldn't just replace Sydney in his mind with her.

[lovesjill]

ethan landry like boyfriend

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnin: dark themes, mentions of murder, ethan is sweet and a good boy for you, smut

I think ethan just loves to gossip with you. he is the guy who knows everything that happens at the university or in your dorm with him. ethan loves to gossip with you, in the evenings lying on his bed. especially, you both love to make fun of chad and tara. laughing at the fact that chad can't kiss this bithc, or at the fact that tarantula got into trouble again.

- «tarantula got into some trouble again, she had a fight with some idiot from the fraternity» - you rolled your eyes. and ethan chuckled softly. you both even came up with nicknames for this two bitches.

this guy is very clingy. this guy always manages to hold your hand, keep his hand on your waist or on your thigh. as soon as he sees you, he already out of habit puts keeps his hand on your body.

ethan will save money for a long time for your date with him or for some gift for you. he will save money diligently and try not to spend much. on dates he is definitely a gentleman.

when you find out he's ghostface, you still love him and he's grateful to you for it. he told you a funny story about a richie's girlfriend. ethan immediately started to hate amber.. he's just irritated by her stupid pig-like face. she even tried to flirt with him, so he taught her a lesson. a bucket of bugs fell on amber, and eth also ruined her clothes. after that, he never saw that pig.

he also absolutely despises people who try to make fun of you or flirt with you. he just hates the blonde emily at your university with all his heart because she always manages to make fun of you. ethan somehow ended up changing the water in the water machine to dirty and also broke the machine itself, and all the water poured out on this slut and she was famous throughout the university. you still remember how the blonde ran feverishly, and even fell in the hallway. a week later, ethan killed her.

- «baby.. is this your doing?» - ethan pretended to be the stupidest person in the world and looked at you with his big puppy eyes.

ethan just loves any clothes you wear. but he prefers it when you wear dresses. he loves your elegance. but he just hates it when you wear something revealing in public. he prefers it when you wear it in front of him, because it will definitely lead to sex later.

he loves sharing his cheetos with you, and he also loves cooking with you. he's.. actually, he knows a little about cooking. at least he's good at peeling potatoes.. but he'll definitely cut himself with a knife and you, being a caring girlfriend, will put a bandage on his cut and kiss him to soothe him. he literally melts deep down.

you're that quiet, nerdy couple, but behind closed doors you have a very... special and passionate relationship.

he is just obsessed with your hair. literally. when you are together in the dorm and relaxing, he will gently comb your hair and massage your head. this guy has hands from God.. (i kissed those hands)

if he suddenly does something wrong, he will literally beg you for forgiveness on his knees. for him it is like a catastrophe, and he is already going crazy and thinks that you will leave him. and if you do... then, endure a rough night of love with him.

his heart melts when you protect him from mindy, or anika's insults, or chad's rage. he literally looks at you and thinks.. "how did i get a girlfriend like that"

you are pinned to the very first place in his phone, and notifications are turned on only for you. except for his father, sister and chad, there is no one else in his contacts. he does not care at all about tara, sam, anika or mindy.

during rough sex he often starts complaining about your friends. his mouth is so dirty.. and you are just shocked by his words. he literally curses chad and tara and you can hear him growling.

he doesn't actually use condoms, he likes to take risks.. (what a bad boy) and he also often lies to you that he ran out of condoms, although he just hid them

he probably asked his sister quinn for dating advice and he regretted it.. she was always teasing him and making fun of her poor brother.

ethan is actually good at drawing, he secretly draws in class and rarely in econ when he gets too bored. he can only draw girls and their faces, and you know what kind of girl he always draws.

so in murders he shows his creative personality as an artist and creates his own work of art. remember anika.

you talk about anything. he prefers to listen more, he is ready to listen to any nonsense that you say and just admire your voice. he looks only at you and literally remembers everything that you tell him.

in the second act, your boyfriend literally saved you from falling out of the window. it happened that sam accidentally pushed you and you almost fell, he literally almost went crazy and pushed you away from the window. during the second act, he paid attention to you and only left you alone. when you were climbing the ladder, he deliberately began to slow down to knock down the door so that you could climb over.

his father will definitely faint when he finds out about his future wedding plans.. ethan is actually planning on marrying you when he graduates from university or a little earlier.

ethan is literally a cat. he has excellent vision and can even see well at night, he can also climb on roofs as a ghostface. and he can also.. purr. after his kills, he snuggles up to you and purrs quietly because you're next to him. but he doesn't like fish and can't stand the smell of fish. he can only tolerate salmon.

- «baby, thank you, it's so delicious.. I'll wash the dishes now» - ethan is literally ready to thank you on his knees for your care and food.

this boy barely eats normal food before you came into his life. you started cooking him light and healthy food. he just loves your fruit salad.

basically, ethan landry is a great boyfriend. he's caring, shy, and a very loyal guy. plus, he's your number 1 serial killer. girl, you've fallen in love with a criminal.

[tedlovesmusicals]

Some nerdy prudes headcanons in no particular order:

• Steph is a gamer girl. Her dad bought her the full gamer girl set up with the pink cat ear chair and see-through computer tower for her to just play the sims and stardew valley. Richie and Ruth get her into fortnight.

• Pete gets motion sickness so he reads a book while listening to his girlfriend cuss out 12 year olds.

• Richie made them all a discord server because it's "way cooler and more efficient than snapchat."

• Grace constantly sends Jesus themed gifs into the chat as reactions. Think of the stuff your grandma sends you when she discovered how to use the keyboard on her phone. Exactly. A lot of glittery easter crucifixes.

• Steph convinces Ruth to audition for the next school musical. Ruth gets her first ever lead role. Steph agrees to be in the chorus with Pete to support her.

• Grace forms an Abstinence Club so she can lure more dirty dudes and eat their souls or whatever.

• Pete gets them to play dungeons and dragons with him once. He was the dm. Richie was a dark elf rogue with a complicated backstory. Ruth was a bard that tried to seduce everything that moved. Steph got frustrated with the rules immediately and eventually just had Pete make a character for her. Grace played a real human priest that shamed the entire group for playing the devil's game before storming out after only being there for five minutes.

[sexilene]

MORE 80s SLASHER JOHN B!! PLEASE I BEG

YESSS OFC!!! (sorry about any misspellings, ignore em lol!)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - pinv, slight gaslighting, violence, death, spanking, drowning, dark!john b but also kinda sweet john b in a concerning way lol- ₊˚⊹

john b watched you from afar, sitting on a picnic table in the shade making yarn bracelets with some of the kids in his group, his eyes never leaving your figure for more than a few seconds. you were chatting away with one of the other counselors and a few of the little girls in your group. the little girls were teasing you and the guy, richie, by asking if you were boyfriend and girlfriend and to "kissss" each other.

"no way am i kissin' him! i happen to think that boys are pretty gross don't you think?" you smile playfully, placing your hands on your hips.

"awwe come on! i'm not gross am i?" richie pretends to be offended and places his hand over his heart, making the little girls giggle.

"mm hmm, you sure are!"

you squeal when richie suddenly lifts you over his shoulder and walks towards the shore of lake like he's going to throw you in. john b decides that's enough and jogs over before richie can throw you in. 

"hey man, put her down…wouldn't want any accidents right? the nearest emergency room isn't for a few miles, and the camp hasn't got the best first aid." john b warns, squinting his eyes and tilting his head, almost like he's implying something else.

"we were just kiddin' around johnny!" richie laughs as he sets you down, your feet touching the sand again.  john b clenches his jaw at the nickname and nods like he understands.

"s'alright johnbee, got him just in time!" you smile, trying to relieve the tension between the clearly upset brunette and the cocky red head.

"alright girls! how about we go see if we can use the finger paints now?" you ask the group of little girls who nod and agree, two of the girls taking your hands and leading you back up the hill, leaving john b and richie there.

the next morning, the older kid group and their counselor decide to use the canoes for a morning activity. as they make it out onto the lake one of the kid's ores smacks against something causing all the kids to look at the water. the boy in the front then points to the object, yelling out a loud "HOLY SHIT!". there, floating face up, is richie's blue, dead body, with some froth present around his nostrils and mouth. 

you stand outside with the other counselors in pajamas after keeping all the kids away from the area and doing activities elsewhere. the paramedics take richie away in a body bag and your heart sinks, john b stands behind you, the warmth of his body and just the smell of him somehow calming you down a bit.

"what do you think could have happened to him?" you look up at john b with wide teary puppy eyes, worried he might have something to do with it since the…incident. 

"i dunno sweetheart, he must have gone out for a late night swim, probably accidentally drowned…" he wraps his arm around your front and you bring your hand up to place over his.

"let's hope we can get through the summer without the parents pulling their kids out," he whispers. 

"johnbee?"

"hmm?"

"you didn't- you know…" he just sighs and attempts to pull you back into his embrace, but you won't get any closer until he answers your question. when he only looks at you and doesn't say a word you start to walk away from him, and back to your cabin, confused and frustrated. but of course that doesn't go well with him, he won't tolerate you walking away from him like that, so he follows you and enters your cabin room behind you and shuts the door.

"lisetn to me, hey hey, look at me. i know you might still be a little scared of me but you don't need to be. okay?" he starts off gently, trying to level with you as calmly as he can be.

"ohkay…" you sigh and turn to look at him, you really don't want to have this conversation with him right now after being overwhelmed with so many things happening at once.

"i'd never do anything to hurt you, m'just trying to keep you safe that's all."

"i know…" you whisper

"good. that's why i do the things i do…i have a responsibility to watch out for these kids and when i think someone is dangerous then-"

"i don't want to hear you say it…" you interrupt him and shake your head with tears springing at your waterline. john b knows how you get when you feel conflicted or rather overwhelmed, he's seen it before when you get stressed while dealing with the kids.

"okay, alright…hey c'mere," he pulls you into a hug, his bulky body effectively enveloping you as you press your cheek to his chest.

"you really scared me that night-"

"didn't mean to bub, i promise not to do that again." he sighs, shaking his head though you can't see him.

"i really liked you."

"liked?"

"i- still do, s'just that-" you ramble.

"hey hey stop, breaaathe…breathe for me. let's do something okay? something to calm you down a little, y'gonna let me do that for you?" he soothes, bending down to meet your teary eyes. the minute you make eye contact with him you nod.

"words." he chides, needing to hear you confirm that you wanted it.

"yes, yes john b.." you whisper shyly.

"'m gonna take these off, aaand these pretty panties," he whispers gently, taking you through what he is currently doing. sliding down your little pink sleep shorts and white cotton panties, the fabrics pooling around your feet. john b then takes off his loose-fitted cropped sleep shirt and tosses it to the side, nodding his head over to your bed. he takes your hand and guides you over, taking a seat and lifting you up onto his meaty thigh.

"just gonna sit you on it and its gonna relax you alright?"

"its not gonna fit,"

"fit last time." he laughs through his nose and pulls himself out of his plaid pajama pants, you looked down at his dick, much bigger than you remembered and your cunt already began to clench around nothing. picking you up like nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck, john b impales your drippy wet cunt on his huge cock. the stretch making your eyes roll back momentarily and muffle you your cries on the skin between his shoulder and neck

"shshsh, its in, its in…" he coos, rubbing your back. "just turn your brain off bubba."

as soon as he can feel that you've relaxed and adjusted to his size he starts to move your hips back in forth with a gentle grip of his huge hands.

"i did kill riche, i had to do it to protect you baby…it's my job." you mewl at his confession and clench around his dick, earning a low groan out of him. he knew you wouldn't really register what he was telling you but at least he wouldn't feel guilty since he did just tell you the truth.

"jus' don't want you to hurt me," you whine.

"never, never…love you so much," he assures you, now using his strength to bounce you up and down slightly.

"don't gotta think about anything bub, just let me do all the work." he looks down and the bulge that presses against your lower stomach, making him hiss and squeeze the meat of your ass roughly.

"reall-really like you jombee…" you cry, tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded as he bounces you on his fat cock.

"need to hear you say you love me, baby." he grunts, smacking your ass cheek harshly.

"love you, love you somuch, i really wanna cum please!" you squeal as he continues to use your sloppy wet pussy.

"i know bub, whenever you want, m'right there." john b stops bouncing you and lets you sink back down on him fully, then presses his thumb down hard on your clit. you mewl out pathetically as you cum and pulse all over him until he fills you up from just feeling you cum on him.

"fuck, so pretty, my pretty puppy." he smiles and presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wipes away the tears that happen to fall down your face.

"y'feel better now? hmm?"

"mm hmm…" still seated on him, leaking cum around the base of his dick, you hazily drop your cheek on his shoulder.