#whether it be love that makes you pull the trigger or stops you

[dumbkiwi]

pointing a gun at your significant other is the most romantic thing you can do i think

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[wndaswife]

Wanda returns to bad habits after her breakup with you.

Tags: references to smut, lot of angst!, self-destructive habits, toxic relationship, abuse, possibly triggering topics, unhealthy sex, cheerleader!wanda, references to fem!reader

Word count: 2438

Before being with you, Wanda didn’t know that there was any other way of having sex. In fact, she didn’t think sex was something one could even tie emotional connections to. 

You and Wanda never had sex until she was the one who brought it up, nearly two months into the relationship. Granted, in the beginning, Wanda never regarded it like a real relationship, taking your feelings for her for granted, using your love for her as entertainment. 

She was uncertain when you first had sex; you asked if she was feeling alright, if you were making her feel good, and you were gentle, taking time to run your hands over her body and get to know her in ways you hadn’t before. 

It made her feel so seen, so thought of. 

Wanda wondered about a lot of things for the first time when she watched as you kissed down her body, carefully undressing her and treating her delicately. 

When she laid on her back, her hip bone became more prominent and casted a shadow over a birthmark she had on her left hip, making it seem like it disappeared. Would you notice it while you were taking your time unbuttoning her pants and kissing her lower stomach?

She felt her bottom lip tremble and the back of her nose tingle with incoming tears when you pressed a kiss to it, your thumb brushing against it softly as you descended further. 

In some way, it felt good to have her clothes taken off of her so harshly her thighs burned briefly against the denim waistline of her jeans, to have nails digging into spots you would kiss tenderly, to know her body only ever belonged to you in the way you took her because she was only treated so harsh when she wasn't with you.

Wanda wasn’t close to the boys she slept with, though after being with you she didn’t quite have the same interest in being with as many as she used to. 

Vision was the only one Wanda had enough energy to see. He intellectualized his violence, at least — tried to explain that he couldn’t help but want to claim her and make her his. When he was able to pull at her hair, bend her how he wanted, slap her, spank her, redden her skin and bruise her flesh while he claimed her until he was fatigued, she belonged to him. 

She understood the rationale, enjoyed the distraction of being someone else’s rather than belonging to herself, or having to come to terms that she didn’t know herself enough to be anything on her own, or to be forced to realize that in her lack of herself, there was a lack of you too.

Why didn’t you fuck her until she was telling you it was too much? Why didn’t you make her question whether she’d reached either her threshold of pain or pleasure when she told you to stop?

Which she never did, because she never had to. 

It was miraculous the things you could read in her body — the twitching of her hips away from your fingers or a furrowing of her eyebrows.

You knew when she had enough, and when she needed more. 

Why didn’t you treat her like everyone else did?

“Was Y/N boring?” Vision asked, wrapping an arm around Wanda’s body and pulling her against his side. He took her chin in his hand and turned her head to the side to press a kiss to her lips. 

Wanda felt a pain in her chest when anyone mentioned you; the only role you had in her life now was when other people brought your name up. She was only able to interact with you through discussing her time with you in the past tense. 

“No,” she answered. “She wasn’t boring.”

He reasoned, “She didn’t know you at all.”

Wanda didn’t know whether she wanted to protest and give away what was special about her relationship with you to someone else. But then he added, “The CD she put together for you, the poems and all those dull gestures — you don’t like that.”

“And you know me better?” Wanda retorted, frowning and attempting to pull away from him slightly, only to be pulled back by how his arm wrapped around her shoulders completely. 

“I know how to treat a girl.”

She held back a scoff, mostly because she wasn’t interested in arguing about you; you were too precious of a memory to discuss in argument. 

You were a memory that was hers and hers only. 

But she couldn’t help but come to your defense, for a part of her did want to talk about you, to keep you in her life that way. 

“She tried her best,” she said, leaving out the part that you’d tried your best in spite of how terrible of a girlfriend she was to you, how she used you and your feelings for her to entertain her friends. “She cared.”

Some time close to the end of the first month you were together, you put together a CD of songs for her. Wanda had never been given something like that before, didn’t understand the significance nor what you were trying to do by gifting it. 

‘For Wanda,’ it said — so simple.

She didn’t think twice before giving it to her friends.

One of them put it into their laptops and they listened to it together, wanting to see what kind of things you put together for her for your sham relationship Wanda hadn’t been putting any effort into, though a part of her was curious in a way that her friends weren’t. 

After the first two songs, skipping through most of them to get a general idea of your effort, they moved onto something else, even resolving to throw the CD out. 

Wanda argued that that would’ve been a bad decision in case you asked about it or wondered where it had gone. 

When she got home, she put it into her own laptop, her chest filled with a feeling she couldn’t explain but often felt around you when she looked through the songs and found that a majority of them were ones you or she had mentioned before. She remembered you asking if she’d ever heard of some of them. 

She listened through the entire CD that evening, laying in bed as she did. 

It felt like every word was made for her, and it felt special; you listened to all of them too, picked them out, and put it together just for her. 

She loved them all. 

Vision’s expressed contorted. “Cared about what?”

“Cared about me,” Wanda spoke quietly. 

When she thought of you, the way you made her feel, the way you cared for her, Wanda wasn’t able to do it without the inevitable following of pain. 

You cared for her like no one else had ever, treated her so gently and loved her selflessly, and now you couldn’t, and now you didn’t. 

But to voice it out loud, to speak it out into existence that she had known your love, and more than that, to know that it was no more, felt different than just reminiscing, allowing her memory to form your love into a reality in which, maybe, you just didn’t love her as much as she remembered you did. 

As much as she knew you did. 

Did she ever make you feel loved?

One afternoon, the day the two of you were planning on going out for a picnic, you came to her apartment looking conflicted and confused and upset. One of Wanda’s friends had told you about how the relationship was initially meant to be a joke, that Wanda was dared to go out with you once one of her other friends noticed that you were into her.

The things you were told and then repeated to Wanda made the things she had done to you so much more real, for in the beginning, she didn’t quite take things seriously, so the terrible things she had done almost didn’t exist.

It almost felt like she had done it all to someone else.

For her, the relationship didn’t really start until she started falling in love with you.

Suddenly, you knew that she had cheated on you several times during the first month you were together, that she had shared your poems and the CD with her friends, that she repeated all the sweet and thoughtful things you did for her to them.

At the time they meant nothing to her — how could you love her, anyhow, how could the things you did mean anything to you?

They thought the dedication and feeling you put into a fake relationship was funny. Maybe they also couldn’t fathom Wanda as deserving of that kind of love either.

Wanda never thought it was funny so much as she thought it was absurd. It was as if someone was speaking a different language to her.

“How did she care about you?” Vision asked, sounding slightly defensive. “Did she treat you like I do?”

What a fucking joke, Wanda thought, for him to place himself in your likeness, even by distant comparison.

Wanda was becoming irritated, and she would’ve much rather when he told her that she was made for getting slapped around, forcing her to swallow the truth that she liked when he did. 

But her mind flooded with memories anyways in spite of her annoyance at Vision’s prodding. 

You’d called her beautiful before, so it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it, but there was once after you’d had sex for the first time that Wanda often thought about. 

She was laying on her side, cuddled close enough to you that she could lay the back of her hand against your stomach, close enough that your hair brushed against her forehead when she adjusted her head on her pillow. 

The both of you were under her blankets. She felt warm, wrapped in your body heat as your arm draped around her naked waist. 

Your arm unwrapped itself from her and Wanda opened her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping, but she liked how it felt not to talk and not to go anywhere — just to be close to you. 

She thought you might be leaving, but instead your hand came to her cheek, your palm warm from how it had been laying against her lower back. 

You brushed her hair away from her eyes. 

She couldn’t explain the way you looked at her; it wasn’t with any sort of intention to dominate or claim or dissect her. 

You were just looking at her, taking her in. 

At that moment, she felt a sort of pressure to perform, wondering if she should smile or blush or ask what you were looking at, but she could only look at you back, in silence. 

You’re so beautiful, you said. 

“She treats me nothing like you do,” Wanda presently told Vision, slightly resentful as she spoke. She was silent for a moment before adding, “She… made me feel special, and important.”

He could only scoff. “That’s pathetic.”

How could it be pathetic, the way you made her feel? The gentleness of your hands, the curiosity in your eyes, how loving your kisses were, how you made her feel beautiful.

Wanda laid, bored and as pathetic as Vision had said, as he unwrapped his arm from around her and turned her onto her stomach. 

Maybe if she was able to hate herself enough, she could prove you wrong, recall the memories of your love and see you as a liar or as deluded, in order to deal with the fact that she no longer had you.

Vision was good at it — making her feel deserving of hatred and filth. He would hurt her and spit the most degrading insults at her, and he’d tell her how wet she was getting, how he could feel her twitching around his cock, slap her across the face and feel her tighten, pull her hair and feel her pushing her ass back against him.

She felt the hatred and the degradation and the objectification, and each time, hoping that it would recode her body, recondition her skin to know only violence and hurt. But each time it only reminded Wanda that the feeling running through her wasn’t what she felt with you.

You’d never do these things to her, never make her feel this way.

Everything that distracted her from you could only ever be defined as a lack of you.

Anything different from you, wasn’t you.

To remedy that, she tried to think of how you might react to seeing her this way. She only felt shame; you’d think she was a monster, as fucked up like Vision had said.

If you saw the things she let happen to her, listened to the words she got off on, would you still love her, think she was beautiful?

Once, Vision asked if maybe Wanda would’ve liked you more if you’d treated her like he did. Maybe she wouldn’t have fucked around with your feelings for her if you treated Wanda as he knew she deserved.

The idea of those horrible words coming out of your mouth, the anger and the violence and the disgust, made Wanda nauseous. She remembered going home the night he suggested it and throwing up. 

You would never.

You’d never.

She tried to redefine you, thinking that maybe if you hated her you would, that you fantasized about hurting her, but even then, Wanda couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t because she didn’t only see you as the way you loved her, but as who you were.

You were kind and gentle.

Every time she left Vision’s place, she thought every moment of her interactions with him over, trying to hate herself for things he did to her and things she let him do because she liked them. She wanted to go back to when the things you did for her meant nothing, when your love was a language she couldn’t understand.

But she couldn’t erase any of it from her memory, couldn’t rewrite it, couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen.

Anything she felt and experienced after you broke up with her was only an absence of you.

Wanda wondered if you often thought of her, or if she even crossed your mind. Maybe you were glad to have gotten rid of her. She hoped you hated her, so that way she could imagine that she didn’t cause you pain.

She hoped you might just forget about her altogether.

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 2

summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 8.1k

a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 3 (coming soon)

As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places. 

You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks. 

You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.

“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.

You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.

But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”

Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”

You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.

“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.

You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”

You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.

You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.

“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again. 

“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”

“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.

“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.

A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you. 

He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.

Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up. 

He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”

“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”

Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.

“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”

“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”

You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear. 

“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”

“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”

Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms. 

He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now. 

After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.

Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.

“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.

You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”

“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.

“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”

“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.

“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”

You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.

—

You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump. 

“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”

You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside. 

He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.

There’s only one way to find out, you decide.

You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?

You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.

But you aren’t so fortunate.

Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive. 

One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.

You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.

The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones. 

Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.

Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been. 

You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch. 

You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen. 

When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.

“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ‘fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.

“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”

“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.

Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?

You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.

—

Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.

“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.

“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.

“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”

Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive. 

Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.

“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.

“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female. 

“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.

“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.

“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.

Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him. 

“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”

“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.

“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”

“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.

He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.

“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs. 

“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.

“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.

“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”

His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.

“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.

“T-the box… I saw—”

“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”

Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.

“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”

“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”

Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.

“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.

Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears. 

Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”

You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.” 

He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.

“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”

He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual. 

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.  

As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.

“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.

Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.

“Huh?”

“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”

He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”

You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.

If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.

“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.

“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.

“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.

“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”

His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.

“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.

“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.

“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”

Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole. 

“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”

“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”

He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…

Like one of them. 

“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time. 

A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so. 

Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.

“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.” 

Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway. 

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.

Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.

Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget. 

“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.

“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.

“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”

“See… what coming?”

“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”

His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?

“You want me to… to kill—”

“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another. 

You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.

Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”

His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.

“I love you too, Joel.”

The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.

You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.

tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger @hjzghi-blog @natalieispunk (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[gojotojis]

Butterfly pt. 1

part two

This story will contain sexual assault, I beg you not to read if it will trigger you.

summary: you’re spiraling after a traumatic sexual experience and the only person that sees it is your neighbor.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader

content MDNI: mentions of sexual assault, sexual assault, alcohol abuse, depression, anxiety, drugs, ptsd, trauma, age gap, mentions of death/murder via movies

Note: this is actually so personal to me so pls be kind. this is a genuine depiction of my assault, this is me coping. I am in no way glorifying or romanticizing sexual assault, again this is my story. Writing is when I feel most safe and we are all strangers so I’m okay sharing this. Any hate, blame or criticism will be immediately blocked. Also virginity is a social construct.

April

You had been so eager to give away your virginity, and he seemed so nice. He knew all the right things to say, how to make you feel like he really liked you.

He said he was a virgin which made you feel safe and comfortable enough to sleep with him. It started out as kissing which led to more.

You couldn’t help how nervous you were, frozen until he was flipping you onto your stomach. You became terrified when you felt him nudging at your back entrance.

“No,” you breathe, your heart hammered in your chest. You swatted at him but he forced your hands down.

“Please stop” you beg as you tried to squirm away, crying as you felt him pushing into you, tearing you open. You screamed, it was painful and he pulled away.

Your fingers swiped where he hurt you and blood coated them. You crawled away from him until you were grabbing your clothes and running away.

You’re traumatized, but it only worsens when you ignore him for days and he blows your phone up calling you a slut, ugly, fat and a whore.

He spams your phone with videos of him having sex with other girls, him telling you how you don’t compare and that he lied about being a virgin.

You feel like shit, and he pushes it further when he spams your Instagram and messages your friends, flirting with them and saying awful things about you.

You finally block him but the damage is done.

You loved reading more than anything but when a sex scene comes, you’re taken back to that night and the book is ruined.

You can still feel him forcing himself inside of you, it’s like it won’t stop. You cry in the shower, scrubbing your skin till it’s red and raw, hating yourself, blaming yourself for letting this happen.

For being so desperate that you gave something so intimate away to someone so awful.

You tell no one, too ashamed and disgusted with yourself .

Beginning of August

You climb up the stairs, AirPods on full volume with a Mitski song playing. Your fingers tap against your thigh as you hum to yourself.

You’re not paying attention, letting out a small ‘hmph’ when you collide with soemthing hard and fall to the floor on your butt. You’re embarrassed as you look up at the tall man looking down at you.

His hands outstretch to you as his mouth moves but you can’t hear anything over your AirPods. You spot his phone beside you, and grab it. You don’t take his hand as you stand up on your own but you do hand him his phone.

He’s peculiar to say the least, he’s always either wearing a black flindfold or sunglasses, today he’s wearing the blindfold. You have the urge to ask him why he wears it but that’s invasive and rude.

He moved in two months ago right across from you. He’s usually gone for days on end but when he is home, he’s always asking to borrow something from you whether it’s sugar, milk or eggs.

It’s slightly annoying but you’re too scared to tell him, you wonder if he’s ever heard of a grocery store.

His lips are still moving so you pull your AirPods out. “Huh?” You ask, furrowing your brows and lips parting

“Are you okay?” He asks and you nod staring up at him. You think he must be blind, literally and feel actually awful.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying attention,” you say and then it dawns on you, what if he doesn’t go to a grocery store because he can’t see. You start overthinking and guilt racks through you.

“It’s my fault really, what are you listening to?” he asks, you’re confused how he knows you’re listening to music but then again it was blasted. You hold your phone up to him and then internally slap yourself. “Mitski, it’s called I bet on losing dogs,” you explain and he nods.

“I love that song,” he says and your eyes widen, he doesn’t look like he listens to her.

“What’s your favorite song?” You ask, genuinely curious. “What’s yours?” He asks and you don’t know why that makes you laugh for the first time in months. “I bet on losing dogs,” you say.

“That’s my favorite too,” he says, and you wonder if he’s flirting with you. Part of you blushes but the other part of you panics. Does he just want to sleep with you and hurt you? You try to shove the thought down, he asked a simple question.

“I should get going” you say staring at your shoelaces.

“See you around y/n” he says before he’s walking off and you wonder how he knows your name, you never once shared it with him and he’s never shared his.

Mid August

Your head tips back, eyes rolling. The sound of music drowns out as you feel yourself nearly seizing from the red and purple strobe lights. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve blacked out, your mouth tastes disgusting and your throat burns. The cause of it, lying in a puddle on the floor.

You lift your head up, to try and comprehend your surroundings. The girl beside you leans down, holding a rolled up dollar and snorts the thin white line off the table.

She sniffs and turns to you, offering you the dollar, you vowed to never touch that shit but part of you wonders if it’ll make you feel good, the way the alcohol does.

Your brains screaming no, begging you to leave but your fingers grasp it and she dumps more onto the table. She lines it up with a credit card and you hesitantly lean down, you choke a little as you snort it and sniff.

You slump against the sofa and slowly feel it take its effect. Your body feels so fucking heavy, it’s like you’re wearing a meat suit. You lift your fingers up and watch as they multiply when you wiggle them around, the girl pulls you up and drags you to the dance floor.

You’re like a rag doll in her arms as she makes you dance. Your head tilts back staring at the ceiling and you laugh, it’s dark and intoxicated. The music suddenly feels amplified and you’re clutching your ears, so fucking overstimulated and you panic, feeling the bodies grinding against you.

Your eyes water when you feel hands grip your waist from behind and they press against you. You’re pulling away from them and stumbling through the crowd, fighting your way to the exit.

Fresh air hits your lungs the moment you step outside and you inhale, closing your eyes.

Home, you have to go home.

You ignore the several people that ask if you’re okay as you stumble down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the pavement.

Relief fills you at the sight of your apartment building, once you reach it, you’re climbing the stairs until you miss a step and fall down. Your head smacks against the floor and little black spots cloud your vision.

“Fuck!” you hear, almost certain it’s your mind playing tricks on you until you feel large and warm hands gripping your face. Their touch is like electricity against your skin.

“Please let me die,” you mutter as a familiar blind folded face comes into view. He’s waving a finger infront of you and you go cross eyed.

“What did you take?” He tries to ask you but your hearing is muffled. His face is blurred but you can make out his lips moving.

You lift your arms up and reach for his face, your fingers graze over his lips and he stills. They’re soft and pink.

His hand gently grabs your wrist and moves your arm back down to your sides. His head tilts like he’s studying you as your vision slowly recovers along with your hearing.

“Can you hear me?” He asks and you nod weakly. He sighs before you feel his arm hook under your knees and the other around your back. He lifts you up and you shake against him.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you beg, his brows furrow but he doesn’t say anything. You’re trembling as he walks you to his apartment. He’s gonna hurt you, he’s gonna trap you and hurt you.

You squirm in his hold until you’re out of his arms and sliding down the wall. You cover your face and pull your knees to your chest. His hand touches your knee and you scoot away. He immediately retracts it.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise” he says as you peek between your fingers. His expression is so genuine, and concerned but he’s a man and you don’t trust them. Your brain feels like it’s working overtime trying to think as he lifts his pinky up.

“Please let me help you,” he says, his voice is soft as he kneels infront of you. Your shaky hand reaches toward his and your pinky wraps around his.

He smiles gently, and helps you up. He unlocks the door and guides you inside. You’re too fucked up to take in his apartment.

He pours a glass of water and hands it to you, before he’s handing you two pills of advil. Your pupils are dilated and you look so out of it, your breath reeks of vomit and vodka.

He’s not use to this, any of it. He’s never been in this situation and it’s frustrating because he wants to help you, he knows there’s an underlying reason why you shake and flinch from his touch. The way your eyes survey all exits and keep distance between you two.

Everytime he’s seen you in the halls, you’re listening to music in your own little world with your head down. You’re always shy, and timid.

“You can take my bed and I’ll take the floor,” he says not wanting to leave you alone incase you have a concussion.

Your throat tightens at the idea of sleeping in his bed, at falling unconscious where he can so easily hurt you but you’re tired, so fucking tired.

You hug yourself as you attempt to walk into the only bedroom in the apartment. You slowly climb into the bed, curling into a ball. He watches you from the doorframe, trying to make sense of what his eyes can’t tell him.

When morning comes, you’re gone.

September

You sigh, sifting through your purse for your keys. You push through several empty travel bottles of vodka and tampons, coming up empty. You hear two things behind you, keys jingling and a meow.

You turn around, one hand is holding your keys while the other has a black kitten pressed against his chest. You only care about the kitten at this point, you look up at him and he’s smiling at you.

“You dropped your keys,” he says but you’re itching to touch the fur ball in his arms.

“What’s it’s name?” You whisper not wanting to scare it.

“Dunno, just found him outside,”he says and you slowly reach out, petting the baby. It’s little mouth let’s out the most broken meow but it’s fierce and you smile.

“Are you gonna keep it?” You ask and he shakes his head making you frown. He walks toward his door and starts unlocking it.

“I can’t, I work too much” he says, opening his door. He walks inside, leaving the door open. You awkwardly stand there before peeking inside. You feel embarrassed about the events from two weeks ago, you’ve avoided him since. You can’t imagine what he must think of you.

You slowly walk inside, fingers clutching the ends of your oversized sweater anxiously. He sets the little guy on the floor and you immediately shut the door not wanting him to runaway.

“He’s gonna need formula,” you say, carefully dropping to your knees. You pull your hair from its ponytail and fling the tie across the floor. You giggle watching the cat dart after it.

You feel his eyes on you as absurd as it may sound considering the blind fold but you do. His lips twitch as he watches you play with the kitten.

“What’s your name?” you ask, something that’s been on your mind lately.

“Satoru, Satoru Gojo,” he says and you hum. It’s pretty.

“Thank you, for the other night. I’m sorry I kind of lost it on you,” you say, watching the cat run at you as your hand drags across the floor like a spider before it tickles him. His little feet kick at your wrist but it’s like a feather hitting you.

“That happen often?” He asks.

“No” you lie, admittedly you usually stop before you get super fucked up and you hadn’t touched coke till then. He doesn’t push and you’re grateful for it.

“So what’s the song of the day?” He asks and your brows furrow, arms chasing after the cat who starts running sideways.

“You must have another song you like,” he says shrugging.

“K. by Cigarettes After Sex, let me guess. That’s your favorite song of theirs too,” you say and he smiles.

“It’s like you’re stalking me,” he says and you laugh, it’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard, more so than the little creature that’s clawing his way up your thighs. His claws hooking into your jeans, determined to get you.

“Favorite album?”He asks and you indulge him.

“That’s hard, there’s so many,” you say, pulling the cat off before he can claw up your sweater.

“Top five,” he says making it slightly easier for you.

“Brand new eyes by paramore, all lana del rey albums, Trilogy by The Weeknd, anything FKA twigs and Wiped out by the neighborhood. You?” You ask and he shrugs, leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom.

“I don’t listen to music,” he says and your face scrunches, musics your love language and your safety net. It speaks and conveys what you can’t.

“Not one song?” And he shakes his head. His life must be so lonely and boring, you frown.

“I did listen to that Mistki song though, depressing much?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“Well, yes but that’s what makes it so good,” you say and he doesn’t argue. You wish you could see his eyes, eyes speak a thousand words.

“Favorite movie?” He asks, this is sadly the most anyone’s ever asked about you, you feel guilty that part of you is living for this attention.

“Bones and All, Suspiria, Django Unchained, Dune and Pearl,” you say.

“I’m seeing a pattern here,” he says and you raise a brow. “You don’t listen to music but you watch movies? And what may that be?” You ask. The little voice in the back of your head is begging you to go home, he’s only doing this to get in your pants, why else.

“Nah but one of my students seen some of them, I’ve heard all about Pearl and her axe,” he says, watching the kitten swat your hair tie around.

“She’s just a girl,”you shrug, and his lips tug into a smirk. You don’t like the feeling that takes over, the butterflies that swarm your stomach. Handsome doesn’t do him justice, he’s beautiful even when you can’t see his eyes. From his undercut to his jaw, and his tall lanky stature, he carries himself like he’s the highest predator up the food chain. It’s not threatening, it’s…sexy.

“I forgot American Psycho” you add and his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline before he’s bursting into laughter.

“What? It’s hilarious satire and Christian Bale is…hot,” you say. He wants to ask you a question but thinks better of it, this is the most you’ve ever spoke and he doesn’t want it to end.

“Are you a teacher?” you ask, lingering on what he said moments ago.

“Yeah, you?” he asks. You dropped out of college, feeling too stupid and incompetent, in all honesty you’ve never seen a future for yourself and it feels embarrassing.

“Bookstore,” you say.

“So you like books?” he asks and you give him a look that screams ‘duh’.

“I do, I’d tell you my favorite book but you probably already know it since it’s yours too,” you say as the kitten comes running at you. You gently slide him across the floor and he runs back, loving it.

“Guilty, but you should probably tell me just incase we aren’t on the same page,” he says, you hate the smiles he keeps making appear on your face.

“Normal People”you say, you wonder why he wants to know all these things and what they matter to him.

“It’s like we’re the same person,” he says, you wonder if this works on the girls. You don’t want it to work on you.

“He looks like a Salem,” you say looking at the black cat that’s just obsessed with you.

“I think he’s found his mom,” Gojo says and you want to argue against it but you don’t because he’s right, you’re keeping him.

End of September

You sit on the couch with Salem curled in your lap and a bowl of popcorn beside you, you’re ready to start the movie until someone’s knocking on your door. You feel your anxiety fester but push it down.

You carry the kitten as you walk to the door and look through the peep hole. Your breathing hitches at the sight of Gojo in sunglasses, you swear he hasn’t been home in two weeks but like he said he’s always working.

Now that you think of it, that’s so odd. He’s a teacher who’s never home and works odd hours. You try not to overthink it as you open the door.

Gojo beams at you and the little guy in your arms. He reaches out and starts scratching underneath Salems little chin which sends him into a purring fit.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hey,” you answer, unsure of what else to say.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“I was gonna watch a movie,” you say looking back at the lit tv screen, but you remember he can’t see.

“Pearl?” He asks and you’re slightly eager to put it on for him. Your life is lonely, you’ve stopped talking to everyone. Your bestfriend pushed you away months ago and nobodies really cared to see that you’re okay. Your mom and grandma constantly call but you can only take so much criticism.

You try to contemplate the pros and cons. Gojos been nothing but nice, he’s slightly funny and because of him you have Salem. Cons: he’s flirty and a man. Your stomach stirs, and your body tenses as you open your mouth.

“Would you like to watch it with me?” you ask, trying not to let your mind wander off to that dark place in your head.

“Okay,” he says and you step back, letting him enter your dim apartment. He takes his shoes off and looks around, taking in the hues of greens, browns and white along with the various plants that take up space.

There’s a picture of you as a little girl with two other kids that look just like you, a boy and girl on the wall, some family photos, graduation picture and baby pictures. You were so adorable, still are.

Your place is a contrast to his. His is fairly empty with a few hints of grey, white and navy.

He sits on the opposite end of the couch as you put on Pearl, Salem leaves you to cuddle in Gojos lap. Traitor.

“Song of the day?” he asks before you start the movie.

“Good to love by FKA twigs” you say and hit play.

You usually hate when someone talks during a movie but you’re desperately wanting to know his thoughts during every scene. He laughs through most of it,

“Did she really just set her mom on fire and then leave to go have sex?” He asks, you bite your lip. “She’s just a girl,” you say and he shakes his head. You reach into the bowl for popcorn and feel his fingers graze yours, his touch is like static and you get goosebumps. You pull away as subtly as possible, you hope you don’t give off the wrong message by all of this.

“She’s deranged,” he says as she stabs the projectionist with a pitchfork repeatedly.

“Christ, who gave this girl an alligator,”he says when Pearl pushes the man’s car into a pond and an alligator eats at his remains.

By the time the movies over, he’s leaving. He says he has to work in the morning but he types away at his phone before handing it to you, your names written on a contact, waiting for your number.

You try to hide your surprise and hesitantly type your number in.

October

Gojo: song?

you: Haunted by Beyonce

Gojo: starting to think you’re working for the government

you: how so

Gojo: only a fed would know all my favorite songs

you: you sound crazier than pearl

Gojo: utterly insane

You enjoy Gojo’s company, still hesitant but he hasn’t given you a reason not to trust him.

Mid October

You hum to The Party and the After Party by The Weeknd, sending a link to Gojo as you walk.

You: song of the century

Read at 8:08pm

You’ve been crafting a playlist for him, you’re embarrassed by it though, what if he thinks it’s lame. You title it ‘Peals Greatest Hits’ and make the cover a picture of pearl with a pitchfork, you think he’ll laugh at that.

It’s nice having a friend again.

You wait for Gojo to respond but he doesn’t, he’s probably busy. This time he’s been gone for three days and you don’t question it. You’ve managed to learn little things about him, he’s told you about his students Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara.

He even raves about his students from last year, Toge, Yuta, Maki and a student he simply calls P, you tried to ask what the P stands for and he said Pedro which you laughed, kind of an uncommon name here but you don’t push it.

He’s mentioned his family and the pressure they’ve put on him, how he’s like the golden child of his family.

He actually laughed when you asked if he was blind, your cheeks heated up as he told you he has really bad sensitivity with his eyes which still made you feel bad for him.

You reach your building and start your walk upstairs, eager to see your cat but stop when you reach the top. You’re not sure why it bothers you when you see Gojo with a woman going inside his apartment. She’s pretty, sharp features and glossy eyes. A mole under her right eye. You wait for them to go inside before you make your way to your apartment.

Maybe you’re a creep but you stare through the peephole for what feels like hours, waiting for her to leave but she never does. You wonder if Gojo has a girlfriend, wouldn’t he have mentioned it? But then again he’s a man, when do they ever.

End of October: Halloween

You try not to feel insecure in your pink tights and red bodysuit, this is the most revealing you’ve looked since before that night.

You watch as a row of lemon drop shots line up infront of you, the girls you’ve made friends with since you came in, all cheer and clap as you knock back shot after shot. You order six more courtesy of your blonde friends tab, the bar tenders hesitant but you bat your lashes and just like that you’re getting your way.

The liquor helps to take away from the insecurities, you stop worrying if your stomachs too big or your arms too bulky and relax. Several hands pull you to the dance floor and you dance with them, one of the girls hands you a blunt and you smoke it. You spend the night smoking and drinking till you’re absolutely fucking cross faded.

Once you’re at your apartment building, you’re literally crawling up the stairs. You stop when two sets of shoes come into your view, you slowly look up to Gojo and the woman from two weeks ago looking down at you.

“Should we call someone?” The woman asks.

“Nah, she’s mine,” Gojo says pulling you up off the floor. You stumble backwards but he catches you before you fall, pulling you toward him.

“I’ll see you later” the woman says, walking off and he nods. He’s scooping you up into his arms.

“What are you suppose to be?” He asks.

“Scarwit bitch” you slur and he laughs.

“Scarlett Witch?” He asks and you nod.

You’re disappointed when he takes your keys and opens your apartment door. He carries you to your bedroom.

“What did you do, rob Barbie?” he asks looking around your pink room, you’re too tired to comment as he sets you down on your bed.

He brushes your hair out of your face.

“Thanks Toru,” you whisper.

November

Gojo: you hungry?

You: yes…

Gojo: what do you want to eat?

You: pizza, meat lovers and Hawaiian.

Gojo: pineapple on pizza? we have to find a dealbreaker eventually

Gojo: in or out?

You: in

Half an hour passes and there’s a knock on your door. You open it to Gojo with two boxes of pizza, he sets them down while you grab plates.

“song?” He asks, he hasn’t missed a day and you don’t know that he’s made a playlist with each one you give him.

“Kimdracula by deftones,” he subtly adds the song to his playlist as you open up the box. Your belly rumbles as you take a slice of each.

He wastes no time, eating while you take little nibbles. You don’t like eating infront of people, not after being so degraded on your body by the only person that’s seen it naked. Your appetite sours and you set your pizza down.

“Do want to watch X? It’s the technical sequel to Pearl,” you say, he couldn’t give a shit about that deranged girl but you like her so he likes her.

He nods and you wash the pizza grease from your hands, he does the same and you both are moving to the couch. Salem jumps up, of course he picks Gojo as you shuffle through your movie selection before clicking on X.

You feel your face redden forgetting they’re literal fucking pornstars filming porn.

“She looks exactly like Pearl, what the fuck,” he says and you laugh.

You subtly look away, during the sex scenes. They aren’t unbearable but it’s just uncomfortable for you.

“Like sixty years later and she’s still creepy as shit” he says when it gets to the scene of Pearl staring over Maxine while she sleeps.

Gojo actually leans forward pushing his sunglasses up, utterly engrossed in the movie as everyone starts getting killed off one by one. He cringes at Lorraine’s death which you do too. And he cheers when Maxine runs over Pearls head.

“You can have Pearl, Maxine’s mine” he says making you roll your eyes.

“Guess you’ll be happy to know Maxine has her own movie coming out next year” you say.

“Oh we’re so seeing that,” he says and you internally smile but that little voice in the back of your head reminds you, he’s just a man.

You try to ignore it but you feel inclined to ask, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He asks with his brows raised.

You actually feel silly asking the question, because how are you supposed to casually mention the girl you’ve seen him with without sounding like a stalker.

“Just asking,” you say innocently.

“Nah, I never have the time for that stuff. Ive been on dates but that’s about it,” he says and you can’t help that words that blurt out.

“So you’re a virgin?” you internally slap yourself once the words leave your lips.

“No” he says laughing at how hard you’re blushing.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be invasive” you say and he shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he’s hesitant to ask but he does.

“Are you a virgin?” he asks and tears roll down your cheeks.

[samandcolbyownme]

This story will get dark and contain things that some readers might find unsettling and/or triggering.  PLEASE DONT READ IF THIS IS SOMETHING YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH!!

Summary: Things get a little out of hand as you explore the Missouri Farmhouse with Sam and Colby.

Warnings include: talk of death and suicide, mentions of good and evil spirits, mentions of a brothel, reader being touched, spoken to, and tormented by spirits, mentions of being scratched, pushed, shoved, mentions of blood and puking, Estes method and other things some readers might find unsuitable - please read with caution my lovelies!

Disclaimer: everything in this story is completely off the top of my head, meaning I made it all up and also, y/n has a little thing going on with both Sam and Colby, but nothing is official. Enjoy!

Word count: a little over 16k | NOT edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Sam nods his head, "Alright. See you in a few days." He hangs up and sits down, "So." He ruffles his hair and looks between you and Colby.

"What's up, man?" Colby leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, "Was that Trevor?"

Sam nods, "Yeah it was."

"Who's Trevor?" You ask looking between them. You could tell something was up, but you didn't know what, "Sam. What's going on?"

"So.. Trevor is the owner of the house we're going to in a few days, and he said that we should rethink about bringing you along."

"Bringing.." Colby points to you, "Y/n along? Why?"

Sam leans back, "I guess having a female there just won't be a good idea according to Trevor."

"Why?" You shake your head slightly and sit up. Sam shrugs, "I guess when other female investigators that went, they left pretty banged up."

You raise your brows, "Well it's a good thing I can handle a few bumps and bruises."

Colby pulls on the corner of your sweater and you look at him. You can tell that he is only concerned for your safety right now, so anything you say will just go in one  ear and right out of the other.

You look back at Sam, "So what? I'm just going to be excluded from this?"

Sam sighs, "Trevor said that it's all up to you. If you want to go, no one will stop you."

"Well I wouldn't say no one." Colby chuckles slightly and looks up at you and Sam staring at him. He quickly covers it up, "She's our best friend Sam. Why would we potentially put her in danger? Especially since the owner of the house is telling us not to bring her?"

"He said it's her choice so I mean-"

You cut Sam off, "Yes. Exactly. And I want to go."

"Have you read up on the place we're going to?" Sam raises his brows and you stare at him, "No.. but I can."

He gets up, "Look, I'm all for you going with us y/n. You're a vital part of the team, you see things we can't sometimes, so of course we want you to go." He sighs, "Just read up on it then decide whether or not you want to still go. I'm going to go make sure we have all the equipment we need."

You watch as he walks away and then you turn to Colby, "why am I getting an irritated vibe from Sam?"

Colby shrugs, "Probably because of what Trevor told him, and because he cares about you." He turns towards you, taking your hand in his, "We don't want to put you in any harms way, okay?"

"Colby." You laugh slightly, "Everywhere I go with you guys, well not everywhere but the investigations specifically.. anything could happen. I've be targeted before. I've been scratched before. I honestly think I've been through it all with you guys."

He smiles and nods, "Yeah, no you're right, I just." He pauses and lets out a sigh, "We just don't want you getting permanently affected by anything."

You nod, squeezing his hand, "How about this.. I'll go read up on the Missouri Farmhouse and then I'll get back to you guys after?"

He smirks and nods, "Okay."

"What's that smirk for?" You tilt your head and he shakes his head, "I just.. I just know that you're going to still want to go even after reading up on it."

You purse your lips together and blink a few times.

"I know you so well." Colby smiles and stands up, "I'm going to go help Sam." You watch as he walks away before reaching forward for your laptop.

The keys clack in the silence as you type in Missouri Farmhouse.

You click on a link with the same image that Colby texted you and your eyebrows raise at the first headline.

Uncovered: Multiple Prostitutes Found Dead, Miles From Missouri Farmhouse

Your eyes scan over the paragraph, Arlon Wheeler has been named leader of the satanic rituals involving the sacrifice of female prostitutes.

"Satanic rituals?" You shake your head, scanning back over the old news article, Arlon Wheeler's wife, Cordelia Wheeler, came front with authorities and confessed to everything her husband and others involved have done.

You click back, trying to find a more recent one, mainly one about people investigating it.

"Oh, yes." You click on a link and your eyes widen at the second headline.

Scratching the Surface: Ghost Investigators Leave Missouri Farmhouse Scratched and Bruised.

You scroll down, eyes widening as you read, 'Yeah, we went in knowing that it could get a little wild, but I honestly didn't think that I would be leaving with five scratches and a few bruises. I partially can't recall what happened after entering the barn, but other than that, I can tell you that if you are a female ghost hunter, please proceed with caution.' Lyvie said. I asked her about the barn and she said, 'Oh yeah.. the barn. That's where the brothel - I guess, took place. Along long with the said rituals.'

A chill is sent down your spine as you sit up, taking in what you just read, but it just seems to get worse and worse.

'With further research, it has been found that Arlon and Cordelia Wheeler would plan for Cordelia to go into town and to pick up naive females and return with them for Arlon Wheeler's sadistic needs.'

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh.

"That doesn't sound like a sigh of relief." Sam jokes as he sits next to you. He leans over, eyes scanning over your computer, "Mm, I see. Reading up on what you're getting yourself into?" You laugh slightly and look over at him, "Yeah, yeah."

You shake your head, looking back down at your computer, "I just.. That place is full of hatred."

"What do you mean?" Sam leans back against the couch and you point to the screen, "Between Arlon being sold out by his wife to all of those innocent girls being slaughtered for absolutely no reason." You look at Sam, "It's going to be a good video, but at what cost?"

You close your laptop and lean back, "I don't want you guys going in something like that alone." You smirk slightly, "What kind of friend would I be?"

"Friend.." Sam chuckles as he extends his arm over the back of the couch, "I'm just super anxious, because with you being a living female, I just have this weird feeling as to why there's so many reports on other investigators getting injured."

You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder, "Jealousy?" You turn your head to look up at him and he looks down at you, "Oh yeah." You smile, "Why's that, Sam?"

You can see his cheeks turning red as he tries to keep his composure, "Because.. As a pretty girl walking into something like that I-"

Colby cuts him off as he walks down the steps, "I'm looking at plane tickets. How many do I need?"

You sit up, looking from Colby to Sam. He smirks and holds up three fingers, "Three."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

""What's up guys.. It's Sam and Colby." Colby motions to the empty spot where Sam should be. He looks at the camera again and sighs, "What's up guys. It's Colby Brock, And today, we are currently at the airport, waiting to board our flight to Missouri." He tilts his head, giving a confused look, "Now, you're probably wondering, guys why are you at the airport waiting to go to Missouri? Well, we'll tell you."

Sam moves into frame and gives an awkward stare into the camera, "Hi." You laugh quietly, shaking your head as they continue the intro for the video.

"Sam, do you want to tell the people why we're going to Missouri?" Colby motions towards the camera and Sam looks at Colby, leaning in to mumble, "Why are we going to Missouri?"

You and Colby laugh at Sam and he sighs, "We are heading to a massively haunted farmhouse there. It is known for leaving a, figurative and literal mark on the people that go there to investigate."

"We're super nervous about this, considering what Sam says, I will be majorly surprised if we all make it out unscathed." Colby grabs the camera, turning it around on you, "We also have the very risk taking y/n here for this trip."

You smile and wave to the camera, "Nice intro for me, Colby." You laugh and he turns the camera around on himself, "I thought it was pretty bad ass, but okay." He laughs, "See you guys on the plane." He lays his hand on the lense and turns the camera off.

Sam sits down next to you, "Is anyone else actually kind of excited about this?"

You look over at him, "I'm half and half."

He leans forward, and you both look at Colby, "What about you?" Colby leans forward and shrugs, "I'm.. here." He laughs and you nod, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Hey, you cou-"

You cut Sam off, "I didn't want to stay home." He raises his hands, "Alright." He laughs, making you smile. He shake his head, "We couldn't get you to stay home even if we tied you to-"

"Oh my gosh!" A girl squeals, inconveniently cutting Sam off, "Are you guys really Sam and Colby? Like is this happening right now?"

Sam points to himself, "Yeah, I'm Colby and that's Sam." He points to Colby and Colby waves with a smile, "Yeah, my hair is a little darker than usual."

You smile and look up at the girl. Her jaw drops, "Oh my g- You're y/n! Are you guys making a video right now?"

You're shocked that she knows who you are, because you don't really get recognized much, "Yeah." You laugh slightly, "It's me." You glance over at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, were actually heading to Missouri right now to shoot a video."

All the girl can do is smile, "That's so freaking cool. Can I get a picture with all of you, please?"

You all agree and stand up as she finds someone to take the picture. You stand next to Colby as the girl stands between him and Sam. Colby wraps his arm around your waist, fingers gently rubbing your side as the stranger takes a few pictures.

"Thank you so much. oh my god, I can't wait to show my friends." She looks up from her phone, "They love you guys so much, they're going to freak."

"Thank you for stopping!" Colby smiles and gives the girl a hug, same with Sam, "Be on the lookout for this video. It's something you're not going to want to miss."

She nods, "I won't I promise." She looks at you, "Can I get a picture with you?" You look from her to Sam and back to her, "Of course, yes." She hands her phone to Sam and moves to stand next to you so Sam can take a few photos.

"Thank you so much, have a good flight!" She waves as she walks away and you turn to look at Colby, "Did that just happen?" He nods with a smile, "It sure did."

"Have you ever gotten stopped like that?" Sam asks as you all sit back down. You shake your head, "Nope. But I love it." You laugh slightly and Colby stands up, "I'm going to go get a drink, do you need anything?" You look over him and shake your head, "I have my water."

He motions to Sam, and Sam nods, "Just get me what you get."

You watch Colbt walk away before looking at Sam, "So what were you saying before all of that?"

He smirks and shakes his head, "About what?"

You smile and sigh, "oh you know, about me not staying home no matter what you did?" He laughs and sighs, "oh that.. Yeah, I was just saying how even if we tied you up at home you'd still find a way to come with." He leans in, "But something tells me that if we were to do that, no one would be going anywhere."

You sit up straight as his words send an intrigued shiver down your spine. You smile and look over at him, "This isn't some sort of I better say what i want now incase we don't make it back kind of thing is it?"

He laughs at your tease and shrugs, "I mean.. if it was.. I wouldn't say that and I definitely wouldn't be saying it here." He looks up as Colby walks back over, reaching up to take his drink.

Colby sits down next to you and sighs, "So what are we talking about over here?"

"Oh you know.." You look over at him, "Sam was just confessing his unprofound love for me, no biggie." You look at Sam and right before he can say anything, your flight is announced over the speakers.

"Oh look at that, perfect timing." Sam smirks and stands up. You look over at Colby and stand up, "Ready to fly into some spook-tacular fun?"

He laughs and points to you as he stands up, "You are definitely saying that on camera."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The plane ride was quick, considering you fell asleep as soon as the plane took off. You woke up on the shoulder of a sleeping Sam.

"Morning sleepy head." Colby whispers with a smile. You wipe the little amount of drool from the corner of your mouth and smile, "Isn't it like four p.m?" He laughs and nods, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

The flight attendant annouces that you'll be landing shortly so you reach over to nudge Sam, "Hey.. Hey.. Sam. Samuel. Samuel John.." You look at Colby and back to Sam, "Samuel John Golbach."

You laugh slightly, "If you don't wake up, Colby will have no choice but to kiss you."

Colby leans forward, "What now?!"

"I'd like it better.." Sam sits up straight and looks at you, "If you kissed me instead."

You smirk, looking away to hide the blush growing on your cheeks and Colby holds his hand up, "Whoa. I think it'll be fair if she just kisses us both."

"You would like that wouldn't you?" You smirk at him and he nods, "Very much so." You lean back in your seat, the anxiety of going to that house tomorrow sets in.

The news articles flash in your mind, images of the the scratches and bruises people have received slip into the mix as well.

You didn't know your leg was bouncing a mile a minute until Sam lays a hand on your knee, "You good?" He asks with a slight laugh and you look over at him, "Yeah, I just got to thinking about the house."

Sam wants to suggest you staying at the hotel, but he and Colby both know that that isn't going to happen.

"I'm just.. what you told me about what Trevor said, it's just circling in my mind and I mean, maybe.." you shrug,"..I'm having second thoughts but I just can't let you guys go alone."

Sam smiles slightly and nods, "No, I know what you mean."

You all get up and get off the plane, making your way to the baggage claim. You yawn, laying a hand over your mouth, "Thank god we don't have to go until tomorrow."

You walk up, picking up your suitcase. Sam and Colby follow behind you, "Yeah, we all need to rest up before going there." Sam says, looking at Colby, "Do you want me to film or you?"

Colby shrugs, "Doesn't matter to me." Sam nods and you follow him over to a bench before he pulls out the camera, "Well guys. We have landed here in Missouri. Going to head to the hotel now and that's where we'll give you the rundown about everything that's going on tomorrow night."

"Colby, y/n." Sam turns the camera to face you guys, "How are we feeling?"

"Tired." You say with a laugh, "And kinda nervous, because we're only a few hours away from the house and I'm just.." you shrug, "Anticipating the scariness of it, I guess."

Colby nods, pointing his thumb towards you, "Exactly what she said." He laughs and nods, "But I'm ready."

Sam turns the camera back to himself and points, "See you guys in a few." Sam turns the camera off, putting it back in his backpack, "Alright, let's get to the hotel."

You make your way to the car that they rented and throw your stuff in the trunk. You get in and shut the door, waiting as they get in.

"So how far from the house will we he once we reach the hotel?" You lean over and look forward in between them.

"Um.." Colby thinks, "About an hour and a half, two with traffic maybe?"

You nod, "okay." You get on your phone, typing in the house you're going to into the search bar again. You click on a link you haven't looked at yet and rest your head against the headrest as you bring your phone up to read.

We got in contact with a group of ghost hunters to talk about their experiences at The Missouri Farmhouse. One said, 'Yeah, I was walking towards the barn and all of a sudden I was on the ground, almost like something came barreling behind me and I was in the way.'

Another said, 'I was standing on the porch of the home, just looking out over the dark cornfields when I felt something wet on my back and my shirt was kind of sticking to me. We went in the summer so I thought maybe it was just sweat - I was wrong. I had my friend shine her light on my back as I lifted up my shirt and I still can't get the way she gasped in shock out of my mind. I had two scratches going down my back and what I was feeling wasn't sweat - it was blood. My blood. I left right then and there and I don't plan on ever going back.'

"This person said that they were scratched so bad that blood was drawn." You look up and Sam and Colby both glance back at you, "I'm reading more on the house, and everything I'm seeing just gets worse."

"It's not going to be an easy night. That's for sure." Sam shakes his head as he comes to a stop at the red light, "We have to go in with a positive mindset, because if we go in with negative one, all we're going to get is a negative reaction."

Colby nods, "That's why I'm super thankful we came a day early. Just so we can rest up and really prepare ourselves for this."

You go back to reading.

'What would you say to anyone who plans on going to see the house for themselves? Would you try to persuade them from going?'

'Personally..' Darion starts, "..I wouldn't necessarily try to persuade anyone from going, because at the end of the day, if they really want to go, they're going to go. So what I'd say, is go in there with an open mind. Don't expect the worst right off the bat because if you do, you'll get the worse right off the bat. Treat the ground you walk on with as much respect as you humanly can and don't, don't underestimate the spirits that are trapped in that house - especially the barn.'

You lock your phone and look out the window. You don't really say much because of not only being tired, but because you're really thinking about whether or not you want to go.

You wanted to go, of course, but you didn't want to put the burden of being worried about onto Sam and Colby, considering they'll already be worried about each other.

You reach the hotel and make your way inside to check in before going up to the room. You sit down on the bed and fall back, "Finally."

Colby laughs, sitting down and falling back onto the bed next to you, "Tell me about it."

Sam sits down on the other bed and falls back, "So who's sleeping where?"

"I could honestly fall asleep right here." Colby laughs slightly. You nod, "Same." Sam sits up and goes to his backpack, "I forgot. We have to do the backstory stuff."

Colby sits up, "Oh shit, that's right." He gets up, moving over to the other bed, right in front of where Sam set the camera up.

You heave yourself forward with a groan and stand up slowly. You walk over, moving onto the bed behind them.

Sam looks back at you, "You can lay down if you want."

You shake your head, "I'm good."

Colby laughs and looks at you, "You just want to say that spook-tacular line don't you?" You roll your eyes as you laugh, looking at him with a serious look, "Maybe."

He laughs and looks forward as Sam gets the camera on. Sam sighs, "we made it to the hotel." He motions around before clapping his hands together, "We are about an hour and a half, two hours give or take, away from the Missouri Farmhouse."

He motions towards Colby and Colby takes over, "So the Missouri Farmhouse was known for a few things. One thing being that it was owned by two of the richest people in this town at the time, Arlon and Cordelia Wheeler. Second thing, the barn right behind the house."

Sam looks from Colby to you, "Y/n, you were reading up on it on the way here, why don't you fill everyone in?"

You nod, slightly shifting to face the camera, "So over the last few days and even today, I've been reading different articles pertaining to the house itself and the barn." You pull up your phone, unlocking it, "The barn is where a brothel was held for a few years. Multiple people from this town, and even family members to both Arlon and Cordelia, would come and pay them to engage in sexual activity with, as the article stated, naive prostitutes that Cordelia would pick up from town and bring back."

You look at Sam and he smirks slightly, "Keep going."

You smile and shake your head, "Not only did the sexual activity take place, but the same prostitutes would then be sacrificed to bring good fortune to the very greedy couple, and to also try and bring a miracle, or whatever of fertility onto Cordelia."

"Oh yeah, they didn't have any children." Colby snaps and looks at Sam, "I read that they tried multiple times, but nothing worked so I think it was a cousin, maybe, of Cordelia who was big into secretly doing witchcraft, that told her about the human sacrifice thing and yeah."

"So it was the cousin of Cordelia that started it all?" Sam asks and Colby nods, "I'd say so. Because what I was reading, they convinced her, promised her safety after she made a deal with the devil I guess and that's when they started sacrificing everyone, but I don't know how they could have saved her from everything."

Colby shrugs, "Bottom line, this place isn't going to be like any other place we've stepped foot into before."

"Oh!" You snap your fingers, "I also read some other investigator's personal experiences and the one got shoved, knock over on to the ground hard and the other one I read, she had two.. not one, but two scratches on her back.. and they were bleeding."

"I just hope that we leave with our skin in tact." Sam rubs his arms and Colby looks over at him, "I think I would rather leave unpossessed or something of that matter."

He laughs and Sam nods, "Yeah." He laughs, "You have a point with that one." He claps his hands, "Let's just hope that we all leave the same way we go in."

Colby and you nod and he looks back at you, "Anything else you want to add in?"

You stare at him and sigh, "We'll see you tomorrow on this spook-tacular adventure."

Sam and Colby cheer and Sam reaches up to turn off the camera, "That was great. I love that." He looks back at you and you laugh, "alright. I'm going for a shower."

You grab stuff from your suitcase and walk into the bathroom.

Once you're done, you come out to both Sam and Colby asleep on the same bed in positions they probably were expecting to fall asleep in.

You pull out your phone, recording as you walk over to them, "This is how I found them when I came out from the bathroom."

You zoom in on Sam, "I don't know how that's comfortable." You move over to Colby and quietly laugh, "again, I don't even know how that's comfortable."

You stop recording and tap Sam's knee, "Hey." He opens his eyes and smiles up at you, "Hey." You laugh and motion to his position, "How is that comfortable?"

He sits up, almost falling off the bed completely, "I honestly don't even know." He looks over at Colby, "Is he kneeling on the floor?"

You nod, drying your hair with the towel, "That he is." You toss the towel onto the floor and walk over to Colby, "Hey, Colbs." You tap his shoulder and he snorts, "Huh?"

You smile, "I think lying in the bed will be more comfortable.." you laughs slightly, "Better for your knees."

He laughs as he pushes himself back from the bed, "You would know."

Your jaw drops, "Hey now. I've never fell asleep like that." He glances up at you, a smirk comfortable on his lips, "Wasn't talking about that."

You roll your eyes, "Keep it up and you won't know." You make a face at him, smiling as he shakes his head, "Don't say that."

You hold your hands up, "Sorry." You go to walk to the other bed but Sam stops you, "whatcha doin'?"

"Going to bed." You point and pull the covers back. Sam pouts, "All alone?"

You smile at him and glance at Colby, "what? Are you scared or something?"

"Oh yeah, don't you see me shaking in my boots?" Colby pretends to shake and you laugh, "Fine. You've convinced me enough."

Sam grabs your hand and pulls you over him, laying you in the middle between him and Colby.

This wasn't anything new to you guys. You shared toddler beds as kids and it just stuck. You knew the moment you came to live with them that you liked them both.

They both seem to like you, and even though nothing is official, it just works for you guys.

Almost like a well oiled machine with no labels, all three of you just know.

"Goodnight." You roll onto your side and Sam turns the light beside the bed off, "Goodnight." He lays down next to you, laying his arm over your waist.

"Goodnight." Colby turns his light off and lays down facing you. He lays a hand on your hip and with them next to you, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep at all.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You hear talking, but you try to ignore it as you don't really want to get up yet.

"Today is the day we go to the Missouri Farmhouse."

Your eyes snap open the instant those words leave Colby's lips. You lift your head, slowly looking around before sitting up.

"Oh, look. She's finally awake." Sam jokes and you cover your face with a pillow, "No." you groan, "I'm not ready."

Sam goes back to talking as you sneak away to get ready for the day. After a little bit you come back out and see Sam and Colby sitting on the bed talking.

"You still up for today?" Colby looks at you and you nod, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" You set your bag down and walk over, sitting in the chair across from them.

"Just making sure." He smiles and you nod, "I mean, I'm nervous, but I'm trying to shake that away."

"It's normal to be nervous, especially when investigating something like this." Sam starts, "You just need to go in there with knowing that you're in charge of yourself."

You let out a breath, "I'm just.." you shake your head, "When do we have to meet Trevor?"

"He said he'll meet us at noon, but if you want we can go get something to eat." Sam suggests and you nod, "Yes. Please, I'm starving."

You make your way out to the car, debating on whether or not you should tell them about the dream you had last night.

You didn't want to freak them out, but at the same time, it felt so real, like you need to tell them.

"Hey, so.." you start out, laughing slightly when Colby looks at you, "I had a weird dream last night, and I debated on not telling you but it was something about the house."

"The house?" Colby questions and you nod, "Yeah, the farmhouse."

"Do you mind if I record this?" Sam asks holding the camera up and you shake your head, "No because it might be a good thing if you do."

You wait for Sam to do his intro, "We are currently on our way to get something to eat before going to meet, Trevor. He's the owner of the Missouri Farmhouse, but first, y/n here told us that she had a dream about the house so I'm just going to let her take it away."

He turns the camera back to you and you sigh, "Okay, so first off I don't even remember falling asleep so that's kind of weird because usually I do, you know what I mean?"

Sam and Colby both nod and you nod back, "Okay, so once the dream started, it was us, standing on the front porch of the house, it's nighttime mind you."

"Extra creepy." Sam laughs and you nod, "Oh yeah. Definitely. So we go in, and for what ever reason, Colby wanted to split up and I just had this absolute gut feeling that we shouldn't. So I kept telling him no, Colby. No we can't split up and he like got, I don't even want to say mad because it was worse than that."

"Almost like something took over him?" Sam asks and you hear Colby whine from the drivers seat, "Why me!?"

You shrug as Sam puts the camera back on you, "That's what I'm saying, like you were told that you were intimidating to the ghosts, and Sam.. well.." you laugh and he moves the camera to frown into it.

"Anyway, so we stick together, but there's all these shadow things moving around and at this point in the dream, I've had enough I want to go home, I'm clinging to Sam.." you see his lips form into a smirk and you try not to smile, ".. screaming to let me go let me go."

You point to Sam, "You, Sam, You're just looking around, watching these things fly and move around us and then all of a sudden everything goes dark, it feels like you're pulled away from me. I'm pushed backwards, and then I woke up. I don't know what time I woke up, but you guys were still asleep and it was still dark out."

Colby glances back at you in the rearview, giving you a why didn't you wake us up? look.

You frown slightly and sigh, "So I don't know if that has anything to do with what we're about to experience or what but it kinda has me shaking a little bit."

"I honestly don't even know what to say to that." Sam laughs slightly, "We wanted to record that just in case anything like that happens tonight at the actual farmhouse, so."

Sam turns the camera to Colby, "Click that like button if you think it will happen and hit that subscribe button if you think it won't." Colby smirks and winks into the camera and Sam smiles as he nods his head, "I see what you did there. Nice."

You laugh and lean back against the seat, your dream replaying in your mind over and over again as you make your way to the restaurant.

After lunch, you guys head to meet Trevor and Colby starts recording as Sam takes a turn driving.

"We are now on our way to meet up with Trevor. He's going to give us the whole run down." Sam looks over at the camera and back to the road, "My hands are sweaty. I'm actually getting more anxious the closer we get to going to the house, you know?"

"No, man. I know what you mean." Colby laughs and nods. You lean over, "We can just pull up to it, you know. Snap a few pictures then leave, I mean we can still say we seen it, right?" You laugh nervously and sigh, "Fuck. I cannot believe we're doing this."

"Well, believe it. We're here." Sam pulls into a driveway and Colby leans forward, "This doesn't look like the Missouri Farmhouse."

Sam starts laughing, "That's because this is Trevor's house, you fuckin' dummy."

You lay your hand over your mouth and Colby sighs as he nods, "Yeah.." He looks down at the camera and nods, "Okay." He turns it off and looks at Sam, "Thanks for embarrassing me, Sam."

"You did that yourself." Sam laughs and gets out, opening your door for you, "Ready?" You look up at him as he shuts the door, "Yeah. Let's go get some more horrific information." Colby walks around the car and stands next to you, "Did he say if it's alright to record this?"

Sam shakes his head, "I'm going to ask him."

You follow them to the door and Sam knocks. A few seconds later, the door opens and what you assume, Trevor smiles, "Hey, Sam?" He holds his hand out to Sam and he takes it, "Yes sir, I'm Sam." He points to Colby, "That's Colby."

"Hey, how are you?" Colby shakes his hand and steps out of the way as he motions to you, "This is y/n." You step up and shake his hand, "Hi. How are you?"

Trevor nods, "I'm good." He smiles, "I'm good. Please.." He steps out of the way and motions for you all to come in. You walk in, followed by the boys and Trevor closes the door, "So what do you want to know?"

"Oh before we start, do you mind if we film this for our video?" Sam holds up the camera and Trevor shakes his head, "Not a problem at all, whatever you need." He takes you guys into his dining room and Sam sets up the camera so you're all in frame.

"These look.. old." Colby reaches out and slides a paper over towards him, "What are these names?" He looks up at Trevor and Trevor sits down, "So this right here." He points to the paper in front of Colby, "We think these are the names of the prostitutes that were taken to the house."

"Like the ones that were sacrificed?" You lean over and look at the paper. Trevor nods, "Yes. We think this was kept by Cordelia as a way for her to have leverage over Arlon."

"Almost like blackmail?" Sam asks as he looks up and Trevor nods, "Exactly. Now these.." He opens a manilla folder and slides papers next to each other, "Lean in and read this. Tell me what you think it is."

All of you lean in, eyes scanning over the semi blurred words that read;

By signing this, you have gradually acquiesced to the demands of our leader, A.W. You must now obey order. If orders are not obeyed, there will be acts of retribution.

A.W. C.W

"Was this like a contract or something? Something that the women were, I'm assuming, forced to sign so they couldn't run and tell the truth about what was happening?" You ask as you look up at him.

Trevor nods, leaning back in his seat, "Precisely."

"Its such a short contract." Colby shakes his head, "But it actually worked? Like it was a valid thing?" Trevor shrugs, "I don't think there was such thing as a notary back then, but with enough people believing in Arlon, I'm sure that didn't make much of a difference."

"Can we take a picture of this name list? Just so we know who to try and talk to?" Colby taps his finger next to the paper and Trevor nods, "Oh yeah, of course. Take a picture of it all if you'd like."

Colby works on taking pictures while you and Sam talk to Trevor, "Can you tell us about any personal experiences that you or anyone else close to you have had?" Sam asks resting his elbows on the table.

Trevor blows out air, "Gosh, I don't even know where to start." He chuckles and you sit up more, "What about the girl that got scratched so bad she bled?"

Trevor's eyes widen as he nods, "Oh shit. Yeah. The panic in her voice when I got the call about them leaving, was not a call I wanted to receive at two a.m."

You nod, "Oh I can imagine. I was reading up on the house over the last few days, and some of the stuff I've read is just.. horrifying."

Trevor nods, "They're not exaggerating it at all, either. The barn, that's where everything was held for a majority of its time. That is where most of the crazy shit happens."

He shuffles through the folder and slides over a blown up picture of a wooden beam sticking straight up out of the ground, "My brothers and I were working on patching up some of the holes in the roof of the barn one day when I suddenly got this really bad, dizzy feeling. I stepped, maybe three steps, and that beam fell straight down onto the exact spot I was standing."

You all look at Trevor in shock and he nods, "Another time, I was in the house looking around to see what we could really remodel. I was standing on the stairs and it honestly felt like someone was trying to throw me over the banister."

"What the hell." Colby shakes his head, holding up hid pointer finger, "Note to self. don't stand too close to the stairs banister."

You and Sam laugh and Trevor nods, "Another don't you should follow." He looks between the three of you, "If you go into Arlon and the wife's room, don't let the door close on you."

"I know.. I'm probably going to regret asking this.." Sam sighs, "Why?"

"I've never had it happen to me, I even went there to see for myself, but I've had multiple reports about some crazy shit happening if you let the door close. For instance." He sits forward, "Someone called me and told me that their hearing.." He puts air quotes, "Stopped working."

"Oh shit." Colby shakes his head, "Almost like they isolated them." Trevor nods, "Yeah, they also said that they've heard things being screamed into their ear. They could never tell me what they heard. Every time they thought about it, it was on the tip of their tongue but they just couldn't ever say it."

"Now that is really freaking weird." Sam shivers, "I have the goosebumps just thinking about that, like being the only one in a room, a dark room at that, and just having something scream shit into your ear that you definitely make out, but you forget about it even though you know it? Does that make sense?"

You nod, "That would drive me absolutely insane." You lean back, stretching your arms out behind you.

"Did you get pictures of everything?" Sam asks Colby and he nods, "Yes, I did. I'll send them to both of you, just in case something happens to my phone." He sends out the pictures to you and Colby and you swipe through them as they finish up talking.

"Thank you so much for meeting with us." Colby holds his hand out to shake Trevor's hand again, "We truly appreciate all the information." Trevor shakes his hand then moves onto Sam's, "Not a problem at all. Again, call if you need anything and just be cautious around and in the barn if you do go in. You never know what can happen."

You nod and walk over to the door with them, "Wait." You turn to Trevor, "You told Sam on the phone that I shouldn't come? Why is that?"

"I found that the females that come to the house are targeted the most, probably out of the dead being jealous of the living." Trevor opens the door, "Just be extra careful, sweetheart. The pretty ones get more attention."

"Oh.. Okay. Thanks." You look from Trevor and Sam and Colby are both staring at you, "Again. Thank you for the information." Colby walks out, stopping to wait for you.

Trevor hands Sam the key, "This will open the front door. Call if you need anything."

"Thank you." Sam grabs the key, "I'll be sure to let you know how it goes." He lays a hand on your back as you walk in front of him.

"Good luck." Trevor yells before closing the door.

You get in the car after Sam open's your door, "He was fine up until the very end. I didn't like that." Colby looks back at you, "I don't think he meant it in the way that we took it, bu-"

Sam cuts him off, "I still didn't like it."

You laugh slightly, "It's fine. We have something bigger to worry about now." You take a deep breath, "The Missouri Farmhouse."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Stop here so we can get a shot of the entrance." Colby points and you lean around, "That's actually very fucking creepy."

Colby nods, "I know, all of the trees and then just this dirt, gravel road." he rolls his window down and holds the camera out, recording as Sam drive onto the long driveway.

Your heart drops into your stomach as the house comes into view.

"There she be." Sam says and you shake your head, "I already don't like this." You laugh nervously and Colby puts the camera on you, "You nervous or something?"

You roll your eyes and clear your throat, "What? Me? No. Not at all." You look at him serious, "Yeah, very much actually."

Colby laughs and turns the camera to Sam, "Well, brother. Now that were here.. how are you feeling?" Sam parks and takes a deep breath, "I honestly don't know." He laughs and looks over, "Y/n's dream kind of has me freaked out."

"Tell me about it." You run a hand through your hair, staring at the house as Colby records it, "Well, guys. This is .. The Missouri Farmhouse."

"We are going to get our things together and we will take you guys on a tour before it gets dark out, just so you can all see how old this house really is." Sam looks into the camera and Colby tilts his head, "You mean to show them how creepy this place actually is?"

Sam nods, "Same thing." He laughs as he turns the car off. Colby shuts the camera off and gets out, opening your door for you. You move at a slow pace, not rushing to get inside. You slip on your jacket, "How cold is it supposed to get?"

"I believe low forties." Sam says as he pops the trunk. You nod as you pull the hood from your sweatshirt out of the back of your jacket. Colby walks up next to you, "You ready?"

"As I can be." You smile up at him and he lays a hand on your hip, "At anytime-"

"You tell me this every time I do an investigation with you guys, and you know that if I absolutely cannot handle it anymore, I'll tell you." You smirk as he smiles and nods, "Just like to remind you."

"I appreciate that." You smile and turn to look at Sam, "So were just going to do a walk through?" He nods, "Yeah, I figured that with it still being daylight, we can get footage of how everything looks normal because I honestly feel everything is going to intensify when the sun goes down."

Colby puts his jacket on and sighs, "Ready?"

You and Sam look at him with a nod, "Ready."

Sam starts rolling, "Alright guys. So we are on our way into the house. This is what it looks like on the outside." Sam turns the camera around, panning it over the huge farmhouse standing before you.

You walk up to the door and Sam hands Colby the camera as he pulls the key from his pocket. He slips the key into the old looking lock and turns it, "Alright." Sam looks back as the door cracks open, "We're in."

"No going back now." Colby chuckles and hands the camera back to Sam so he can walk in first. You follow, Colby right behind you.

You trip on the step and fall into Sam, "I tripped." You announce quickly, "Sorry."

"You okay?" He turns around, laying a hand on your side and you nod, laughing slightly, "Yeah. I'm good." You look away from Sam, eyes scanning over the house.

Sam pans the camera around, "It's so old, yet so beautiful."

"Whoa, look at this." Colby walks over and Sam follows him. Colby points to a portrait on the wall, it's old and kind of ripped, "I think this is Arlon and Cordelia."

As Sam and Colby are talking about the portrait, you get this unsettling feeling that you're being watching, "Guys.." your voice is almost inaudible.

You reach out, tapping Colby's arm and he turns around, "Did you just- what's wrong?"

"Something is watching us." You swallow and turn around.

A shadow moves from the top corner of the doorway and you point, "That door. There was something in the top corner."

"Oh fuck." Sam walks in front of you, camera pointed at the door, "what did it look like?" He looks back at you and you shrug, "It was just a shadow, like a head shaped shadow."

"Jesus Christ." Colby shakes his head, "So we won't be going that way." He laughs and points the other way. You nod, "Yeah, that room.. gives me a bad feeling."

"What kind of feeling?" Sam looks at you and you take a breath, "Dark, evil kind of feeling."

Sam and Colby just stare at you for a second, "Okay." Sam says breaking the silence, "Moving away from that room."

You walk down the hall, staying as close as you can to them while holding your arms around yourself. Sam and Colby explain some backstory while you can't help but continuously look around like someone else is there.

"So there's what? Two three floors to this?" Colby asks.

"Three, but the third is the attic, but I guess it's huge." Sam answers. He looks over at you, "What's going on?"

You shake your head, "It doesn't feel like we're alone. Like don't you feel that weird feeling like someone is standing like right.." you wave your hand up and down behind Sam, "Here."

Sam turns around as Colby walks over, standing right where you motioned to, "Here you said?"

You nod and Colby looks at Sam, "I don't feel-" he moves back, "Whoa." He looks around quick and moves to stand next to you, "swear to god something just pushed me."

"We saw it." Sam looks from you to Colby, "Are you okay?" You lay your hand on his arm, "You were pushed backwards, so whatever that was, it was between us."

"Fuck." Colby shakes his head, "Do you still feel like someone else is here?"

You take a deep breath, shaking your head, "No. it vanished right as you got pushed."

"You moved next to y/n. What if they think that we're trying to -" Sam puts air quotes, "-protect her?" He shrugs, "I mean, we were told that they'll go after her more because she's a girl and the spirits can have some sort of jealousy towards her."

You shiver slightly, "That just send a chill down my spine, Sam. That's honestly so bizarre to hear out loud."

You snap your head to the left, eyes focused on the staircase, "shh." You hold your hand out, frozen for a second until you look at Sam, "There was walking, like heavy footsteps on the stairs."

There's a sudden loud thump only a few feet away from you that causes you all to jump and yell out, "Oh shit."

"What the fuck!?"

"Goddammit."

It happens again, and this time you jump towards Colby, grabbing onto his arm as you look at Sam, "What the hell was that?"

He shrugs, "I don't know but we should keep moving." He nods towards the hall and you and Colby follow him, making sure to stay extra close to them.

They continue talking about the place, making sure to give you reassuring glances every so often as you explore the rest of the house.

Soon enough, you're face to face with the barn.

"I mean.." Colby starts out as he takes the camera from Sam, "It doesn't really look all the scary in the daylight."

Sam laughs slightly, "It looks, kind of pretty with the light shining down through the beams."

You get dizzy, and it happens quick.

"Oh god." You mumble as you hold your head. Sam is right next to you, arm around your waist and you lean into him.

"What's going on?" Colby asks confused and you feel Sam shrug. You take a deep breath, slowly lifting your head, "I got, really dizzy."

Sam looks up at Colby and back to you, "Are you still dizzy?" You can tell there's concern in his voice, "Do you need to sit down?"

You shake your head, blinking a few times, "No. I think I'm okay." You brush hair from your face, eyes moving past Colby to look into the death filled barn, "That's not a good place."

Colby turns around, pointing the camera at the entrance, "If you wouldn't know anything about this place, it honestly looks like a normal barn that was abandoned, you know?"

Sam nods, arm still around you, "I'm actually kind of scared for when the sun goes down."

Colby nods, "I'm sure we're all feeling that way." He looks at you then to Sam, "I'm going to walk up, get a shot of the inside, you guys stay here."

"Colby." Sam warns, "I wouldn't."

"Yeah, don't go up there alone, please." You practically beg. Colby shrugs, "I'll be fine, I'll just run up and run back."

You tighten your grip on Sam's jacket as you watch Colby walk up towards the barn. You were preparing yourself to run and help him.

You had to be on your toes while here, this place is so unpredictable.

"Yo Colby." Sam yells, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I got it." Colby yells back, "Coming."

Your eyes are focused on Colby as he walks towards you and Sam, glancing behind him every so often. He wants up, pointing his thumb behind him, "It sounded like someone, you know those loft spaces in a barn where they store the hay?"

You and Sam nod and Colby looks back before continuing, "It sounded like someone was up there, scuffling around."

"That's not surprising. That's the most active spot out of everything." Sam shakes his head, "alright. So I'm thinking we go get something to eat, calm our nerves and really prepare for what we're going to be facing tonight."

Colby nods, "That's a good idea." His head snaps towards the house, "There's no fucking way."

"What?" Sam takes the camera, "What happened?"

You stay close to Sam, looking to where Colby is staring, "Did you hear something?"

"It sounded like someone yelled back here in the distance, like they were telling someone to get back here? You know what I mean?" He looks at Sam, "We're the only ones out here right?"

"We should be." Sam pans the camera around the old farm, "Take one last look, because when we get back. Everything will be engulfed with darkness."

"Isn't it already?" Colby asks, "With the spirits and all of that?"

Sam sighs, "I mean. Yeah, I guess. But I was trying to make it thrilling." He pouts and shuts the camera off as you and Colby laugh.

"Let's go take a minute." Sam lays his hand on your lower back, "We can go over the plan of where we want to start and where we want to end while we wait for the sun to go down."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After dinner, you're in the car heading back to the farmhouse and you can't shake the nervous feeling.

All of the news articles pop back up into your head, flipping through like pages in a book.

"Y/n?" Colby's voice makes you jump, "Fuck." You laugh slightly, "Sorry. I was thinking about everything I read."

"Yeah, us too." Colby looks to Sam and back to you, "If things go south, we're getting out of there. No questions asked, no it'll be good content, nothing."

You nod, "Deal."

"If you at anytime don't feel like you can do it anymore.." Sam starts, "Same for you Colby, we're done."

Colby nods and you sit up, "I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that that girl had blood drawn."

"Spirits are powerful things, y/n. If they don't like you, they'll make it known." Colby quickly sighs, "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. I know that's probably something you don't want to hear after-"

"No, Colby." You lay your hand on his shoulder, "You're fine. I'm fine. We're all going to be fine."

You lean back, taking a deep breath as you see a familiar sign that lets you know you're almost to the beginning of the dirt road.

"We're almost there." Sam says, "Do you want to get the camera out Colby? We need to get a shot of this." He motions to the windshield, and you look out at the dark road that's only lit by the headlights of the car.

"Oh fuck me." You breathe out, laying a hand on your forehead, "This is sketchy as hell."

"I'm going to stop and turn the lights off." Sam comes to a slow stop, looking over at Colby, "Ready?"

Colby nods, "Rolling." He points the camera forward and Sam flicks the lights off, leaving the three of you in total darkness.

"Oh m- that is fucking scary." Colby laughs, "What the hell."

"Now imagine I turn the lights on and there's something just sta-"

"Sam!" You yell, tapping his shoulder, "Don't say that!" You laugh, "I'm already peeing my pants back here."

"Are you really?" Sam teases. Even thought you can't see him, you can tell he turns around and you scoff, "No, not really."

He flicks the lights back on and thankfully there's nothing there. You let out a sigh of relief as Sam starts driving again.

Sam and Colby go back and forth about the darkness, laughing and joking like they normally do. You weren't sure if it was your dream keeping a tight hold on you, or the fact that you're a girl going to this no girls allowed club, or what.

But you were scared, and you knew that you had to pretend that you weren't and it was going to be hard.

"Alright." Sam taps the wheel, "We meet again."

"The sun going down has definitely amplified the creepiness by a thousand times." Colby adds, "I have goosebumps."

Your eyes stay on the house and you squint, "Did you guys light that candle when we were in there?"

"What?" Colby turns around and Sam comes to a stop, "I didn't light anything."

You look back up at the house and the light you thought you seen wasn't there anymore, "It's not.. maybe it was just the headlights."

"I wouldn't be surprised if anything was on in there, so maybe you did see something lit." Sam assures you, "Let's get everything ready and take final minute before going in."

Colby shuts the camera off and gets out with Sam. You sit there for a moment before Sam opens your door, leaning down to look at you, "You okay?"

You turn your head to look at him, "Yeah. Yeah. Just taking a minute for myself." You slide over, swinging your legs out, "I'm ready."

You look up at Sam and he grips your chin, "That's our girl." He winks and helps you get out, closing your door behind you.

You walk around, grabbing your backpack from the trunk. You make sure you have everything that you planned on taking, along with the boys.

"I'm good." Sam says zipping up his backpack.

Colby nods, swinging his around to put his arms through the straps, "Me too."

"Yep. Let's go." You put your backpack on and step back so Colby can shut the trunk. He sets the camera on top and turns it on.

He back up, standing on the other side of you, "We are here."

"It's dark." Sam adds before Colby picks up, "It's finally time to explore the famous Missouri Farmhouse."

You look around, nothing but the light from the camera illuminating the short distance around you.

"Did you hear something?" Sam looks at you and you look at him, "No. I'm just looking around." You laugh and look at the camera.

"So we came up with a game plan of where we want to go first, and where we want to go last." Sam claps his hands together, "We all agreed that the barn is the last place we want to go, so stay tuned for that and we'll see you in a second."

Colby walks up, cutting the camera, "alright. Let's head up."

As you walk up to the house, you look behind you, squinting at the sight of a possible figure standing still at the back of the car.

You blink and it's gone.

You shake your head, looking forward as you're met with the farmhouse door. You look up, turning to look out into the darkness.

Colby opens the door and walks on, Sam lays a hand on your back, nudging you slightly so you walk in.

I'm not scared, you think, mind over matter. I'm not scared.

The camera light shines on the dark interior and Colby bumping into you causes you to jump, "Colby!" You yell quietly with a laugh.

"Sorry. Sorry." He laughs and lays a hand on your shoulder. Sam spins around, pointing the camera on you and him, "should we bring out the Epoch box?"

"Yes. That's a good start." Colby says, "Do you have it or do I?"

"I think you do." He points to Colby and Colby nods, "Okay." He pulls his backpack off and you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a chill creep down between the multiple layers of clothing.

You let out a sigh, stepping closer to Sam.

"You alright?" He whispers looking over at you. You nod, "Just cold. I got a chill standing over there."

"I'll get this thing going." Colby stands up, walking over to the small end table, "So this is called the Epoch box. It isn't motion censored, but it's similar to the Ovilus as it uses a sophisticated algorithm to read the environment and converts the energy into yes or no responses."

"I'm Sam, these are my friends Colby and y/n. We're here to ask some questions and with those we come in peace. We mean absolutely no harm to anyone here so if it's okay with you.." he pauses, looking between you and Colby, "Can we ask you some questions?"

The box flickers a few times before lighting up green for a few seconds then stops.

"Okay. Is Arlon here with us?" Sam keeps the camera on the box as you all wait.

The box lights up red for a few seconds before shutting off. It flickers before going dark and you sigh, "I'm y/n. I mean no harm to anyone here." You step forward, "Is this Cordelia?"

The box flickers before lighting up green for a few seconds.

"So it's her." You look at Sam and then to Colby and he nods. He looks down at the box and furrows his brows, "Sam."

"What?" Sam walks over, making sure you go with him, "did it just turn off?" Sam looks up at Colby with a shocked expression.

Colby lifts it, "That says on, right?"

"So it.. what? Died?" Sam asks confused, "what the fuck?"

A loud thump makes you jump and you look behind you. It catches Sam and Colby's attention too because they turn after you, "What was that?" Colby whispers, "Sounded like a-"

Thump!

"That." You point, "That sounds-"

Thump! Thump!

"Okay." Sam sighs, "Lets move to the den area." Sam lays his hand on your back and turns back to Colby, "Just switch it off. Maybe we can get it to work somewhere else."

Colby nods, picking it up, "You said the den area?" Sam nods and Colby pulls out his phone. Sam looks at you and you look at him, shrugging before both looking back to Colby.

He holds his phone up, "I knew I remember seeing something about a den. Look." He shows you and Sam his phone and you nod, "so he had favorites."

"Looks like it to me." Sam says as he shows the camera Colby's phone, "Hold on, I'm trying not to get a gla- oh here we go."

Colby puts his phone in his pocket and sighs, "So. To the den we go?"

"The den we go." Sam nods before you all walk towards the end of the hall. Colby opens the door, announcing that it's you guys before walking in.

You get a weird feeling, almost like you're uncomfortable.

You shift around, pulling down your sweatshirt and jacket, "This room feels.. uncomfortable." You look at them, "Like I think I can tell what happened here just by how I'm feeling."

"If he had favorites, I'm sure we can all figure out what happened in this room." Colby points to you, "Do you want to leave? Are you okay?"

You shake your head, "No, I think I'll be fine. Do you have any names?" Colby pulls his phone back out and nods, "Edith Macentire, Daisy Lovell, Lydia?" he zooms in and shakes his head, "I can't read the last one."

"I'll get out the REM pod." Sam hands the camera to Colby before swinging his backpack off. He gets out the pod and looks around, "I'm not going to put it by the door, I'll put it.." he walks over to the small stand that's in front of the window and sets it down.

"Hello, I'm Sam. Just want to ask you a few questions, I mean no harm. I just want to try and figure out what happened in here." He gently claps his hands together, "there's a light on that pod there, if you get close enough to it, a light will flash. If you want to answer any questions, all you have to do is just make that light up, okay?"

A few minutes goes by before the light turns on.

"Okay. Is this Edith Macentire?" Sam keeps his eyes on the pod, "Just touch it once for yes or-"

The light flashes once time and turns off. Sam looks back at you and Colby, "Edith, did bad things happen in this room?"

The pod lights up one time and you move your hand to tap Colby, "don't we have a spirit box?" He nods, "Yeah." You look at Sam and back to Colby, "I think we should use it. I just feel like we need it right now."

"Okay." Colby nods, "I think it's in your bag." Sam walks up behind you and the REM pod goes off constantly.

Sam leans out from behind you, "What the fuck." Colby shrugs, looking back at him, "I don't know, man." Colby keeps the camera on the pod as Sam walks over, "I'm going to shut this off." Sam grabs the REM pod and holds it in his arm as he sets the little radio box on the stand, "You will be able to tell us things through this."

Sam step back, taking the camera from Colby so he can move up, "I'm Colby, I mean absolutely no harm, neither do my friends. Can you tell us what happened in this room?"

The static sounds for a few minutes, "..Man.."

"Man?" Colby questions, "Are you talking about Arlon?"

"..Evil!.."

"Arlon was an evil man." Sam shakes his head, "Are we still talking to Edith?" The static plays in the silence for a minute longer, "..Lydia.."

"Lydia. Can you tell us what the evil man did?" Colby rests his fingers on his chin as he watches the box, "..he said.. wouldn't die.."

"Did he tell them that they wouldn't die?" Sam whispers and you nod, "I think that's what she means. Maybe he promised them a good life since he was-"

Your words are cut short by the box, ".. he wants you.."

Your eyes go wide and your heart sinks into your stomach, "Huh?" Colby looks at you, Sam, then back to the box, "Who wants who, Lydia?"

You can feel your heart starting to race and it feels like something is creeping up behind you. You glance behind you, seeing nothing as you move closer to Sam.

Sam looks down at you and wraps his arm around your shoulder as he holds the camera on Colby. Colby shake his head, "I think she's gone."

Instantly after Colby stops talking, "..run!"

You feel a gently tug on your jacket before it feels like a yank and you're pulled from Sam, both of you yelling at the same time. He grabs your arm pulling you back to him as Colby comes over, "What the fuck just happened?"

You cling to Sam as he hands the camera to Colby. Colby keeps the camera pointed down, "Sam wh-"

"..I told you.."

Colby walks over, shutting off the box, "Okay that's enough for now." He walks back over, camera still down at your guy's feet , "Are you okay?"

You keep your head pressed against Sam's chest, "When it said he wants you.. I got this feeling that there was something, I don't know." You sigh, "Creeping up behind me and then right after run was said, I got yanked backwards."

"I don't.." Colby shakes his head, letting out a sigh, "I don't want to say anything, but I know we're all thinking it.."

"He wants her." Sam says nodding down to you. Colby nods, "Mhm." You lift your head from Sam's chest and sigh as you try not to laugh, "This is insane."

Sam takes the camera back and you walk towards Colby, taking a deep breath, "Okay. Where to next?"

Colby smiles slightly and shakes his head, "You want to keep going?" You nod, "I'm not tapping out yet."

"We hit two of three places down here, I don't really want to go into that room she saw the shadow figure in. Not at night, gives me a very bad feeling." Sam says and you nod, "So, upstairs then?"

"I think we should go into Arlon and Cordelia's room." Colby raises his brows and you nod, "Just please don't let the door shut."

You make your way out of the den and into the hallway. Colby shuts the door and you all freeze as you hear something in the hallway.

You wait a few seconds before starting to walk, "So.." Colby says to the camera, "We are currently making our way up to the bedroom that housed the ring leaders to this whole shabang."

You laugh slightly, "Shabang." Sam smirks and Colby rolls his eyes as he chuckles.

Each creek of the stairs is unsettling to you. You're jumpy, really jumpy. So every little sound causes your body to feel like you're going to jump out of your skin.

"Alright." Sam breathes out, "We have reached Arlon and Cordelia's humble abode." He takes a deep breath, "We should find something heavy to put in front of the door so that way if it moves we can hear it."

Colby reaches for the handle, looking between you and Sam, "Ready?" You and Sam both nod and you walk up behind Colby as he pushes the door open slowly, "Okay. I don't see any-"

Something falls right into the door way and you gasp while jumping back. Sam groans, "Jesus Christ." Colby squeezes his eyes shut and open them, "I may have peed a little bit."

You look down and step towards Sam, "Oh gross."

"I didn't.. actually.." Colby sighs and shakes his head, "Let's just go in." Colby steps in and turns around, "The atmosphere in here is.. different."

You walk in and look at Colby, "You're right." Sam follows you and looks around, "That's actually super fucking crazy."

Colby keeps his hand on the door while you look for something kind of heavy, "Would this work? If we just pull this over in front of it?" You point to a small table and he shrugs, "I can stay by the door just in case."

You push the small table over, freezing as you hear footsteps in the hall.

"Did those come from up here or down there?" Sam whispers and Colby shrugs, shaking his head, "I-I don't-"

What sounds like running in the hall causes you and Sam to move by Colby. Sam leans forward, aiming the camera into the darkened passage, "I don't see any-"

"Did that just move?" You say cutting Sam off as you point to the bed, "The blanket. Wasn't that tucked up by the pillows nice and neat when we came in?"

"I have no idea, I didn't really look." Sam says, "It could have-" he tells jumping slightly, "Fuck."

"What what what!?" Colby yells quickly, "you good?!"

Sam nods, "Yeah, just something like drug up the back of my leg."

"Do you feel like you're scratched?" You take the camera from him and he just stands there staring at the ground, "Sam." You snap your fingers and lean in to look at his face, "Sam. Hey."

He blinks as you wave your hand in front of his face and looks up at you, "No. I'm good."

You look at Colby and Colby shakes his head, "Where'd you go man?" He looks at Colby confused, "What do you mean? I've been right here."

You slowly shake your head, gasping loudly when you see something in the slightly dusty mirror, "Oh my god. The mirror." You aim the camera at it, the light from the camera reflecting off, "A woman, was just standing there."

"Cordelia?" Colby asks and you shrug as you look to Sam, "You with us?" You reach out, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

He slides his hand into yours and squeezes it, "Yeah, no. I just. I'm dizzy. Like really dizzy."

Colby lays a hand on your back, "Let's get out of this room." You hand Colby the camera as you guide Sam out. He walks over to the wall, resting his back against it and you look back at Colby, watching as he closes the door.

"Hey, you alright?" Colby asks walking up, "Did you see anything when you spaced out?"

Sam shakes his head, "No, I just couldn't look up from the floor." He runs a hand over his face, "I could hear you calling for me, but I just-"

"Frozen." You say and he nods, "Literally, yeah. That. I didn't hear anything other than you and Colby." You step towards him and lay your hand on his shoulder.

He tilts his head back, resting it against the glass, "I'm not dizzy anymore."

"Well that's good." Colby sighs, "do you need a water or anything?" Sam shakes his head, moving to stand up straight, "No, I'm alright."

You glance to Colby and he nods, "Let's take a minute. It's been a lot for all of us right now."

"No let's just keep going." Sam insists, "I'm fine."

Colby nods and you sigh quietly, "Okay. Where to next?" Sam points down the hall, "Arlon gave Cordelia an office like room to keep things organized, I guess. We can do that then we can go outside for a minute."

"Whatever you want to do, Sam." Colby says and Sam nods, "I'm good." He smiles, "I promise."

You nod, following him down the hall to one of the doors, "Okay, so." Sam points to the door and Colby shows it to the camera as Sam continues to speak, "This is where all of the information they could get about each prostitute was kept. Cordelia, Arlon's wife was in charge of getting them to come back here."

"Do you think she talked them up wherever she found them or kind of did like an interview situation?" You look from Sam to Colby and Colby points, "That's actually a really good point, we can get the spirit box or something out and ask."

"We can try the Epoch box again. See if downstairs was just a bad spot for it." Sam says before reaching for the doorknob, "it's just us again."

He steps in and turns around, making sure you're behind him. Colby follows and pans the camera around the room, "It really is like an old timey office."

"Look, this is that same list of names, do you think this is the original?" You move over to the desk, looking at the old looking piece of paper. Sam walks over and check it out, "This might be a copy? I mean, it looks pretty real to be a copy, so I don't know."

Colby moves over, shining the light from the camera over the page so you can see it better, "I wouldn't mess with it, you know just, to be on the safe side."

You nod and hold your hand up, "Do you hear that?" Sam and Colby look to you before turning towards the open door.

The sound of a door opening and shutting echos through the hallway.

"What door is that?" Colby whispers and Sam shrugs, "Could it be the bedroom?" Colby walks over, peaking out as he aims the camera.

He leans back in quickly and exhales, "Holy fucking shit." He looks to you and Sam, "Holy. Fucking shit."

"Did you see something?" Sam asks, "Colby. What did you see?"

"The door, to the bedroom, was cracked open and a shadow came up the steps and went into the room then it shut." Colby's breath is shaky.

"No fucking way." Sam lays a hand on his mouth, "Are you serious?" Colby nods, "Swear to fucking god, Sam. I'm not shitting you, it- here." He hands Sam the camera and reenacts what he saw, "It came up the steps like this, slow. Then just turned like this.." he turns his body, "And then just went into the room."

"Jesus Christ." Sam sighs and you lay your hand on your forehead. You feel like you're sweating, "Do you guys, feel.. hot?"

Sam turns to you, "Are you- what's going on?" He feels your forehead, "Colby, she's sweating."

"How? It's like forty degrees outside." He walks over to the other side of you and you lean against him, "I think we need to take a break." 

"Yeah. I agree." Sam nods, taking the camera from Colby before Colby wraps his arm around your waist, "Come on." He walks over to the door, looking out before rounding the corner with you.

The only light you have is from the camera that Sam has behind you. He pulls his phone out, switching on his flashlight as you reach the steps.

"Careful." Sam says as you and Colby step onto the first one. These steps were old, so you had to go up and down with care.

You reach the bottom as just as you are about to make it to the front door, it feels like something grabs your arm and tries to pull you away from Colby.

A faint, "Stay.." is whispered as you pull your arm back.

"Something just grabbed me and told me to stay. It was super quiet." You grip Colby's jacket and he opens the door, "You're good. We got you." 

He walks you outside and Sam shuts the door behind him with a loud, "Holy fuck."

"Yeah. Yeah." Colby nods as he walks you over to the car, "Here." He opens the door, "Sit for a second."

You sit down and let out a sigh, "Sam, are you okay?" You look up at him and he walks over to you, "Yes, sweetheart. I'm fine."

You smile slightly and nod, "Okay." He brushes hair from your face, "Are you?" You nod and he turns to Colby, "Are you okay?"

Colby nods, "Yeah." He shakes his head, "Maybe we should do a recap before anything else." Sam nods, looking back at you, "Stay here."

"You don't have to worry about that." You laugh slightly, watching as Sam walks to the back of the car. You rest your head against the seat, listening to them talk to the camera.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You stand up, slinging the back pack over your shoulder, "I know it wasn't really in the plan, but I think we should do the Estes method in between the barn and the house."

Colby looks between you and Sam, "Do you think that that's really a good idea?"

Sam puts his backpack on, moving his hood out, "I mean, it can't hurt to try. Two of us will be able to see and hear."

Colby shakes his head, "I don't know. This place just makes me nervous for something like that." Sam nods, "No I understand, but I was honestly going to say something about doing that too."

Colby chews on his cheek for a few seconds, "Who ever does it, has to be prepared, that's all I'm saying." Sam sighs, "Yeah, Colby. I know."

This place was doing something to them.

To all of you.

Tensions are usually never this high. You knew you all wanted to do this for the video, but you also knew that you all didn't really want to be there anymore.

"Let's just.." Colby sighs and you cut in, getting out of the car, "Let's just take it one step at a time because we really don't know what is going to happen."

"She's right." Sam says, we can just go back, maybe set up flashlights? I don't know where but we can try that?"

Colby nods, "Yeah." He grabs the camera, "Come on." He switches the camera on as you start to walk back towards the house.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You all stop, looking at each other before the sound of something tapping against the glass catching your attention  again, tap. Tap. Tap.

"Okay.. that's freaky." Sam laughs slightly, "What window is it?" You shrug, "It sounds close." Your eyes scan over the windows that are lit up by the camera light.

You point to the middle window, "The curtains moved in that one." Colby steps towards the window, holding up the camera to see inside when all of a sudden he jumps back after a loud thump on the glass scares him.

"What the fuck!" He yells stepping back, "That was literally right fucking there."

"There's no way that wasn't on video. Holy shit." Sam walks up to the window and looks in, "I don't.. see.. anything.."

He shakes his head and looks back at you, "Lets go around to the back." You and Colby follow him as you walk around to the back.

Colby shines the camera over towards the bar, "There it is." He shivers slightly, "Just looking at it sends a shiver down my spine."

"So what do we want to do?" Sam asks as he looks between you and Colby. You shrug, "I'm all for doing the Estes method."

Sam nods and looks at Colby, "Colby?"

Colby sighs, "I guess we can do that, but who-"

"I'll do it." You raise your hand and they both just look at you with a solid look. Sam sighs, "We can all do it. Take turns."

"I'll go first." Colby says handing Sam the camera. Sam looks at him, "You sure?" Colby nods, swinging his back pack off, "Yeah."

You look at Sam and back to Colby, watching as he digs in his bag to pull out a bandana and the equipment.

You had an eerie feeling creeping in again, maybe it was just your nerves about doing this method with the barn right there.

"Okay. So are we thinking like right in the middle?" Colby asks and Sam reaches out, pointing to a specific spot, "Yeah I'm thinking something like right in here. It looks about halfway."

Colby sets his bag on the ground and sits down next to it. He takes a deep breath, "Okay." He wraps the bandana around his eyes and ties it behind his head.

Sam sets the camera down on top of his backpack, angling it so you're all in frame as you sit on either side of Colby.

Sam leans over, showing the camera how loud the static plays through the headphones. He hands them to Colby, "Here you go."

Colby takes them and puts them on, shaking his head slightly as he gets used to them, "Pain."

You look at Sam with your eyes wide, "What the fuck."

Sam shrugs, "I know you were and still are in a lot of pain. Can you tell my friend, Colby here who is talking to us."

Your eyes move to Colby as he tilts his head, "Why?"

"Are you asking us why we're here?" You ask and Colby answers, "Yes, why?"

"We're here to figure out what to the women Cordelia brought back to this farmhouse." Sam says and Colby taps his knee with his hand, "There was like.. a scream?"

"Who are we talking to?" Sam asks looking around, "Are we talking to one of the girls?"

"In the barn." Colby says, "He wants.. you in the barn."

"Who wants us in the barn?" You ask, "Does Arlon want us to come into the barn?"

"not all." Colby states, "Just one."

Sam points to you and you shake your head, "I'm not going in there alone. I'm not."

"Yes. You are."

As soon as the words leave Colby's lips, the hood on your sweatshirt is pulled back and you slam your hands behind you to catch yourself as you let out a scream, "What the fuck?"

Sam taps Colby and Colby pushes the headphones off, "Right before you tapped me, there was a deep, manly like laugh."

"Right after you said yes you are, she got pulled backwards." Sam looks over at you, "Are you okay?"

You nod, "Yeah." You sigh, "Yeah. That just, I let my guard down for a second." You run a hand through your hair and move closer to Colby, "That barn just.." you glance back at it and your eyes focus on the dark inside.

You can't tell if your brain is playing tricks, or if you actually see things moving.

You look away, trying to focus on Sam filling in Colby on what you and him asked, but you just can't seem to stay focused.

You rest your elbows on your knees, holding your face in your hands.

You feel Colby's hand on your shoulder, but you just can't acknowledge it. You take a deep breath and manage to lift your head, "I just.. couldn't get focused there for a second."

"You good now? What happened?" Sam asks and you nod, "I looked at the barn and I just couldn't look away. It's like I was supposed to be looking at that and only that. So I just rested my head down until the feeling went away."

"Fuck." Sam whispers as he looks to the left, "That place is more powerful than people think."

"Here." You take the bandana from Colby, "I'll go."

He lets you take it, "Are you sure?" You nod as you untie it, "Yes." You wrap the bandana around your head, completely blocking your vision. You take a shaky breath as you feel Colby lay the headphones in your hand.

"Whenever you're ready." He assures and you nod before putting them on, static completely drowning out everything else.

Sam takes a deep breathe, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"

"Sam." You straighten your back as his name rolls off your tongue, "Colby?"

"What do you want with y/n?" Colby asks, eyes glued to you, "Why do you want her?"

You try and keep your breathing under control as you do your best to listen, "You can't have her."

"No." Sam says sternly, "You're the one who can't have her. She isn't yours to touch or have, just like the innocent women that you killed years ago."

You tighten your hands into fists, "They weren't good."

"Why weren't they good? Can you tell us what was bad about them?" Colby asks as he looks around, "Arlon. Can you tell us why?"

You listen few seconds, "Arlon. He's here. It's him. Help."

Colby takes a deep breath, "Should we pull her out?" Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. Arlon, why are they so scared of you?"

You tilt your head, "Bad things happened. He did it."

"We know he did bad things. We know it was him. Can y-" Sam stops talking as you cut him off.

You speak normally, "It's almost like they're arguing with him."

Sam looks at Colby, "Arguing? Like one do the girls and Arlon?" Colby shrugs, "Can you tell us why he killed those women?" Colby pauses for second, "Why did he kill you?"

Words are shouted loudly in your ear, "He says he had to."

"Was it the cult he ran? Can you tell us about that?" Sam asks, watching you.

You shake your head, " He wanted to."

Sam and Colby look at each other, "Did Cordelia bring you to the house?" Sam runs a hand through his hair, glancing at the camera before snapping his head back to you.

"You don't love her."

"who? Who are you talking about?" Colby asks, "Who doesn't love who?"

"Sam. Colby." You pause for a second, "Y/n."

"Holy shit." Sam sighs, "Why do you want y/n?"

"Mine."

"Not a chance." Colby says looking at Sam, "I'm going to tap her leg."

"Mine. No!"

"Colby. Her hair." Sam points to your hair that's lifting off your shoulder and Colby taps your leg a few times, kinda rough.

You jump as you feel the tapping and you push the headphones off before ripping the bandana off of your head, "Okay. What the fuck?"

Sam has a shocked look on his face and Colby lays a hand on your back, "Did you not feel your hair lifting up?"

You shake your head, "Um. No." You run your hand down over your hair, "I was only focused on the arguing I was hearing, what were you guys asking?"

They fill you in and you raise your brows, "So it makes sense as to why it sounded like it was arguing." You shake your head, "That's.. actually kind of scary, not going to lie."

"I don't think you going any closer to the barn is a good idea." Colby says, "I don't want to risk you getting hurt or anything."

You nod, "No I agree. I don't even like looking at it." You look to the barn and away, shaking your head as you close your eyes, "Anyway. Sam. Are you doing this?"

Sam nods, "Yeah. Yeah." He takes the headphones, sitting down in the same spot you and Colby sat. He ties the blindfold around his head and takes a deep breath before putting on the headphones.

Instantly, his words are loud, "Help.."

"What do you need help with?" Colby asks as he sits down next to him, "Who is asking for help?"

You freeze, eyes moving from Sam to Colby as soon as Sam just starts listing off names non stop, "Kathleen, April, Eloise, Bethany, Rita, Liza, Sarah, Taylor.."

"Are you the girls Arlon sacrificed?" You ask and Sam responds instantly, "Yes, he's evil."

"Is he with us right now?" Colby asks and Sam tilts his head, "He went out."

"Where did he go?" Colby asks, and you'rere frozen with fear as you see a black shadow figure move a little being Colby, "C-Colby."

"Outside." Sam says and Colby looks at you, "Where outside?" He looks back at Sam, "Is he with us?"

Sam doesn't say anything for a few minutes.

You reach over, tapping Colby's leg, "there was a shadow figure behind you." He turns around quickly and looks back at you, "Where?"

"It was like a foot or so back from you. I don't know, I just seen it and then it was gone." You wrap your arms around your tighter, "Mayne we sho-"

"No." Sam says, "Don't go."

"Why?" You ask, "Why do you want us to stay?"

"You know."  Sam says and you shake your head, "we're not staying." You go to tap Sam's leg but it's almost like something grabs your wrist to prevent you from disturbing him.

"I can't.." you try to pull your hand away but it's like stuck there, "Colby."

"They can't help you." Sam says and then he rips the headphones off, throwing them away from him. He pushes the blindfold up and your hand drops, "Fucking no. No fucking way."

"Are you okay?" Colby grabs your hand and your hand goes to wrap around it, "My wrist is burning." Sam crawls forward, grabbing the flashlight from his bag. He shines the light on your skin and you all become shocked when you see finger marks on your wrist.

"I went to tap Sam, get him out of it, and something grabbed my wrist, I couldn't move until Sam threw off the headphones." You explain, pulling your wrist to your chest.

"No, we're done. We're leaving." Colby stands up, grabbing his backpack and it sounds like something heavy falls in the barn, causing all of you to move back a little bit.

"What was that?" Sam asks quietly and you all just stare at the dark opening of the barn, "I don't know and I really don't want to find out." Colby walks over to you, helping you stand up, "We can come back in the daytime, try something then."

"Yeah, right. Okay." Sam gets up, bending down to grab the camera after slinging his backpack on. You start to walk around the way you came, a lot slower than normal, just to be cautious if there was anyone else there.

"Right before I threw the headphones off, it was a loud, clear as day, man voice yelling death like three times in a row, like boom boom boom." Sam explains, "Ive never.. had that happen." He lays a hand on his chest, looking over at you.

He reaches out, grabbing your wrist to inspect it, "Is it still burning?" You shake your head, "No. thankfully."

"Alright. I haven't heard any-" Colby stops talking and instantly switches the light to the camera off when the sound of branches breaking sounds from the woods next to you.

"Should we call out? What if it is people?" Colby whispers leaning in to you and Sam. Sam wraps an arm around you as you huddle next to him, "We should just go."

"we're going, but like.." Colby sighs, "I think we should acknowledge that we hear it, them, you know what I mean?"

"I get what you're saying but like.." Sam pauses and there's a bang on the window, causing you all to jump and move away from the house, "we can just try to make it to the car?"

"Okay." Colby whispers, "Stay close together."

You move along the house more, your grip tightening into Sam's jacket as you see the car in view. Colby stops, "Should we just book it?"

"Yeah, but at least turn the light on." Sam says and Colby switches the light on, but it suddenly goes back out. He tries switching it on a few times, "It's not.. turning back on."

"Fuck, okay." Sam digs into his sweatshirt pocket, pulling out a flashlight. He switches it on and it stays on, "Okay. Lets go."

His arm stays around you as you guys start for the car. Sam's grip is suddenly ripped away from you when he falls to the ground with a groan.

"Sam!" You yell, turning around to go down to him, "Are you okay? What happened?"

Sam gets up as quick as he can, "I tripped or what tripped?" He shakes his head, "Let's just get-"

The door slamming shut on the front door of the farm house causes him to snap his head towards it, "Get in the car."

Colby reaches for the door handle, pulling on it a few times, "Keys. Keys. Keys."

"I thought you had them." Sam yells quietly as he pats his pockets, "Shit." You check your pockets frantically, hoping that some miracle will happen and one of you will find them.

"Backpacks. Check the backpacks." Colby drops his bag to the ground and sets the camera down before digging in his.

You and Sam do the same and you shake your head, "I checked each pocket." You sigh, "What the fuck."

"You didn't drop them in the house did you?" Sam asks as you grab the flash light. You shine it around the car and point with a slightly loud, "Ah ha. There! There."

"How did they get under-" Colby reaches under the car, pulling them out, "The fucking car?"

"We can talk about it when we get in, just unlock it." Sam says as he throws his stuff back into the backpack.

Colby unlocks it, causing the lights to flash. You all rip open the doors and get in, shutting them with a slam.

"Fuck that." Sam says.

"I honestly can't believe we stayed that long." Colby sighs, "What the fuck is that place?"

You take a few deep breathes, trying to remind yourself that you're in the car now. You're safe.

"Okay. Let's just.. Go back to the hotel and we can figure out everything there." Sam turns around to look at you, "You good? You okay?"

You nod, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm good." He nods and turns back around, buckling up as Colby starts to drive, "I just want to know if people were there. That was fucking weird."

"That whole place is fucking weird. You have to be out of your mind to go there at night." Sam pauses before laughing slightly.

You and Colby join in laughing. The feeling of relief settles in the further you drive down the gravel driveway.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I'm sorry that it's so long but if you made it to this point, I truly appreciate you so much. Thank you for reading.

I figured this was a good place to stop. When the time comes, I’m thinking of doing a part 2 where they investigate the barn during the day? What is think?

Love you so much 🖤

[norrizzandpia]

Masterlist 2

Lando Norris:

It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here

It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

A Sign Of My Love

In which Lando chooses the most obvious way to declare his love for his best friend and she is the only one who doesn’t get it.

All He Needed Was Her

Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

A Second Chance

Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

You Were Never What I Wanted, Pt. 2

Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Ski Trips and Smiles

A proposal on a snowy ski trip.

Showing You My Love

McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

One-Sided Fake Dating Pt. 2

When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?

Love You the Way I Do

When Y/n starts to pull back, Lando knows exactly what to do.

When?

Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.

Safe With Me, Love

When a man at a club makes Y/n uncomfortable, touching her, grabbing her, Lando’s the first to stop it.

The First Time

In the midst of the dirtiest act, Lando’s loose lips stall his impending orgasm.

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean.

Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

My Coat, Your Coat

Y/n is freezing. Lando is her boyfriend. There’s only one remedy.

Whatcha Readin’?

It was a good story, that was her only argument.

Look How Amazing You Are

After Lando’s disastrous qualifying in Qatar and redeeming podium just hours later, Y/n is there to remind Lando of where his worth truly lies.

Sparkling Eyes

When Y/n is distracted, Lando usually takes the opportunity to admire her. Although, this time, he has an audience.

She Calls Me Daddy Too

When Y/n and Lando are having dinner at her house with her parents, Y/n asks her father to pass the salt. Too bad she didn’t specify which one she was referring to.

His

When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.

I’ve Got You

In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.

Lala

When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

My Name

Y/n and Lando have a painful past together. When they go their separate ways and are left to pick up the pieces, Lando realizes he can no longer hear the woman he loved’s name without feeling deeply ashamed.

We Can Be Kids For Right Now

When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Wrong Number, Right Person

A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

HE WON! LAN WON!

A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Olive

After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead

Y/n’s close to fatal car crash and the epiphanies that followed.

Can You See Me Using Everything To Hold Back

Lando and Y/n have always been as close as can be, but unresolved and disregarded feelings threaten everything they thought they once knew.

Oscar Piastri:

British v. American

In which Oscar tries to teach his girlfriend how to drive in England. The only catch? She’s never driven on the other side of the road. Oh, and she’s never driven anywhere else except for California.

Don’t Worry Everyone. I’m Alive.

The fans love her, so when they hear their favorite driver, her boyfriend, killed her, they aren’t happy.

Sleeping Buddies or Dating?

Oscar and Y/n love to sleep next to each other. They don’t love each other. That’s it.

Storms

Where Y/n hates thunder storms and Oscar’s the only person who can calm her down.

Let’s Have A Baby, Baby

There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

When’s It My Turn

When Oscar can’t find Y/n and realizes she’s off with Logan, he gets possessive over how much time his girlfriend has to give.

Chuck a Uey

Blurb when Non-Australian!Reader misses a turn and Oscar tells her to “chuck a uey”. Long story short, she has absolutely no clue what that means.

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen

Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Just Benefits Right Now

It’s common knowledge they love each other. Just not to them - even when they’re sleeping together.

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

[boydepartment]

hiiiii i would love to request a texts + scenarios where reader is dealing with things whether it be stress or sadness and tends to shy away from opening up so they won’t answer their texts for a while or try not to seem sad through texts but enha bf knows so they come over and maybe it ends from a text from reader thanking them for being there and yeah just more comfort 😭😭

1-800-143 - enhypen comfort texts + scenarios

a/n: hiii i hope you’re doing okay :( i did something similar here HOWEVER it’s really old and outdated so i made you a new one 🫶 i hope you like it

warnings- talk about insecurities, stress, food struggle mention, etc. nothing insanely graphic or triggering though

MASTERLIST

jungwon-

you looked up from your phone to see jungwon walking towards you. it was embarrassing enough to sit there in a hot apartment in a hoodie. the other members had their respective partners over for a game night and you felt insecure.

“y/nnnnn!!!” jungwon grabbed your hands and made you stand. you followed him into his room and watched as he closed the door behind you.

“are you feeling okay?” he put his hand on your head, “you feel warm baby let me get you a t shir-“

“no thank you…. i like my hoodie and your shirts are kinda thin.” you mumbled and sat down, “i don’t want to show any part of my body right now…” you mumbled thinking jungwon didn’t hear you. but he did. he sat next to you and grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it.

“it’s okay if you feel insecure right now, if you want to keep the hoodie on i will turn the air up. i’d never make you go out of your comfort zone. just know i love you and i think you’re the most attractive person ever.” he brushed some hair out of your face and smiled. you leaned into him and tried not to cry.

“i love you a lot jungwon…”

“i love you too y/n…”

heeseung-

heeseung burst in the room, “I MADE PIZZA Y/N! PLEASE DO NOT BE NAKED!” when he noted his surroundings he saw you in bed on your phone. heeseung frowned.

“didn’t you get my texts?”

you looked up, hair messy and blanket covering most of you, “no…?” your eyes were puffy and heeseungs heart broke a bit. he took off the apron and got under the covers with you.

“what’s up?” he spoke softly, grabbing your phone and setting it down.

“i don’t know… i’m just struggling a bit today…” you felt your eyes weld up with tears again and heeseung pulled you closer to him.

“i get it trust me…” he mumbled, “do you think you can eat?”

you shrugged, “i can try…”

heeseung nodded and scooped you up, “i’ll carry you.”

you nodded and leaned into him, your body was exhausted and drained for no reason and you felt awful heeseung had to take care of you like this. he set you down at the table and slid your plate over to you.

“i hope you like it… i worked hard on it…”

you looked up at heeseung to see him nervously eyeing the food, it was cute that he tried really hard to make you a nice dinner. the scene made you smile for the first time in a week.

jay-

jay stopped off at every store you liked to pick you up different snacks and easy meals. he got used to your episodes like this really quickly, they didn’t happen often but he took note everytime they did so he could be prepared. jay follows almost a step by step in his head. when he knocked he went to walk away knowing you need space but to his surprise you hugged him. you hugged him so tightly. it took jay a bit to process you hugging him.

“are you okay?”

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i don’t deserve you.” your hands held onto him tightly.

jay held you so softly, and got you both back inside. he held you until you calmed down.

“i love you a lot. and you do deserve me, just because life gets tough sometimes that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere okay?”

jake-

jake is not an idiot. he knew you were bad at texting when you had episodes. so he was going to take matters into his own hands, and about 30 minutes later he was knocking at your door. you answered, rightfully pissed. but there jake was standing with a smile on his face shoving the lego box in your face.

“hi baby! look!”

you deadpanned at him, “do you not check your phone?”

“um not when my baby needs me.” he picked up the takeout he must’ve picked on the way here. he got past you and sat down at the kitchen table. it was really hard to stay angry at the world when jake sim was practically bouncing in his chair about this lego set.

“i got your favorite takeout and i’ll let you have the iron man lego figure.” jake looked up at you, he did not miss the way your lips slowly curve in a smile.

sunghoon-

sunghoon as he said was still new at being a boyfriend and so this raised all the red flags. you were acting different and to be honest on his way over to your house, his hands were sweating BADLY. he took a deep breath and rang your doorbell, you answered quickly and let him in.

“sooooo um……. y/n are you okay….?” sunghoon asked quietly.

no one had asked if you had been okay in a bit and so that question made you break down immediately.

“baby…” sunghoon walked over to you and pulled you in his arms. he rubbed your back softly.

“just let it out okay? i’m here i’m right here.”

you nodded and tried to breathe properly again, “i’m sorry for trying to push you away.”

“it’s okay baby i’m here anyways….”

you looked up at him, “if this was a boyfriend test you would’ve passed.”

sunoo-

you were sleeping after a really rough day. you had cried yourself asleep and had a headache prior to that. you had fallen asleep also watching the awards show.

“Y/N?!”

you jumped up at the sound of your boyfriends voice now in your apartment.

“huh?!”

sunoo ran over to you on the couch, “i thought you were like dead or something! baby you weren’t answering.” he frowned and looked at you all bundled up. you blinked slowly looking at him.

“i’m sorry i just had a rough day and fell asleep…” you mumbled, spaced out.

“oh.” sunoo frowned again and sat down next to you, “do you want water? or anything?” he held you closer to him.

“can you just hold me for a bit?” you asked quietly.

sunoo nodded and kissed your head, “anything for you.”

riki-

you were already in a sour mood towards people, it wasn’t anything anyone specific did it was just how you felt at this moment. obviously you felt bad after snapping at riki but you just waited until he showed up to apologize to him.

he arrived really quickly and set bags on your counter, “i know when you get into moods like this you don’t want takeout. so i picked up groceries and tea.” he looked at you, “do you want to talk about it? or are you going to sit there quietly while i do the work? it’s okay if it’s the second option i don’t mind.”

and it was true, riki didn’t mind taking care of you at all. in fact he liked that he was able to.

you studied his face and suddenly felt REALLY bad.

“i-i’m- i’m sorry for snapping at you…. i didn’t mean to and i know you- you really try to take care of me and i’m sorry.” you looked down and heard riki sigh before he pulled you softly in front of him and hugged you from behind.

“i know you didn’t mean to. and i know it’s really hard sometimes to do basic human things. i get it okay? just please talk to me about this stuff…”

you flipped around and hugged him properly, “thank you…”

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

I'll Show You Just How Sad I Am

a raymond smith x reader quick little blurb, just 1k words

there's mentions of smut in this so read at your own risk <33 who knows, maybe raymond will make a more regular occurrence on my blog over the next few weeks

here's my masterlist in case you want to check out my other works

"Should be the door to your left, honey."

Your voice is sweet in his ear, a pleasant distraction from the run-down building Mickey had sent him off to. It's smelly and dirty and even though he knows he should most likely feel pity, he's still just as disgusted. He'd be with you in a heartbeat if he could, safe and clean in the comfort of your home.

"Mickey should've sent a cleaning lady", he grunts as he knocks at the door, your chuckle almost making up for the very truthful, thinly veiled anger behind his words.

"Mickey wanted you because you're the best", you recite - you've told him often enough by now that it really is reciting. "And because he trusts you to keep this clean."

Which is easier said than done.

Twenty minutes later, the whole thing's anything but clean.

Sure, he'd very much accomplished bringing Laura home - but he'd also left a dead teenager in a puddle of blood about two stories down from where he should've been sitting.

"Left, left!", you call into the mic. Even though you're far from panicking, you're still much too loud, your voice flowing from his earpiece and stinging his brain.

"I'm trying, darling", he grunts back, breathless and panting as he pushes on, one foot in front of the other on the pavement of some random South London streets.

"I know, I know", you sigh. He isn't sure whether he's actually hearing you chew on your lip or imagining it, but he doesn't really have the capacity to think too much about it at the moment. "He's right in front of you. You've got him, Ray."

Yeah... The only problem is that what you must be seeing as a moving, flashing dot on a digital map, he's seeing as a bunch of teenagers trying to look intimidating. Probably feeling intimidating too. God, this is exactly why he didn't want the job. He isn't made for the fucking low-classed youth.

"You've seen enough?", that bastard of a boy spits at him. "Now I've got backup."

Raymond steadies his hands on his thighs and takes a deep breath in.

"You couldn't back up a phone, you cunt", he rasps, his erratic heartbeat slowly starting to calm back down.

"Raymond", you scold. "That's a child."

"That's a bastard", he mutters, before he finally straightens and tries his best at a somewhat mannered bargain. He's really only here for the fucking phone. He needs those pictures, then he's gone. He doesn't want to leave more unnecessary corpses to take care of.

So he offers them money. Which is something that they should definitely take, just judging by how they look. Plus a visit to a very good psychiatrist. But they don't. It's the same fucking bastard who's taken the pictures in the first case and got him into this mess that refuses - and in such a really stupid way, too: "How 'bout you give us that bag and be gone anyway?" - god, even you let out a choked up laugh at that, your breath carrying through the mic and into Ray's earpiece.

He drops his chin to his chest and shakes his head. What a fucking bunch of idiots. Goddamn it. He can feel his blood boil, hot and hotter.

"It's bait", you mutter, your voice low. "Calm down, love. You've got a machine gun. Use it."

Yeah, fucking hell, it's bait, he knows that. It doesn't change the way he's feeling. But your voice in his ear at least brings him back down to reality.

"Right", he grunts, then he swipes his coat to the side, closes his hand around the grip of the gun and steadies his fingertips against the trigger. He pulls it out in one swift motion, points it at the sky and shoots. For a good three seconds longer than necessary.

"Just like that", you breathe, your grin dripping down onto your voice and melting into his ear like honey. You've really got to stop that, he actually loses his focus for half a moment there and in his line of work, next time that means sure death.

The entire bunch of teenage boys flees - as expected - and in less than a minute, Raymond has the phone pressed into his palm.

"God, sometimes I really hate that I'm not there", you sigh, something in the background ruffling, probably as you shift into a more comfortable position on your chair. "Kinda wish I could've seen you."

"Run after a little cunt like that? You didn't miss anything, darling", he says, turning his head left and right before he strides back towards the car, his steps long and purposeful.

"Turn the corner here", you mutter, your voice taking on that specific tone that tells him there's a lazy grin licking at your lips. He can just imagine how you're looking (especially now that he has the time and freedom of mind for it) - one foot propped up on those bar stools that you'd bought for the kitchen, your equipment organised on the table top in front of you, his shirt hanging from your shoulders and pooling in your lap, your head tilted back and your eyes half-closed as you talk to him.

"I don't mean the little idiot", you go on, undeterred even as he narrowly avoids a trash can. Fuck, you really distract him too much. "I'm talking about you. God, you sounded so hot I wanted to jump at you. Actually scratch that, I still do."

He lets out a chuckle as he spots the car, his steps slowing. He should hurry up, he knows that. But he's got you in his ear, talking in that sweet voice of yours about just how much he affects you. He can't pass up on that.

"You're a little fuckin' minx, darling", he mutters with a grin, throwing a glance over his shoulder to check if there's any possibility he could be overheard. He doesn't necessarily feel like making your conversation public, even as you hum into the microphone.

"Yeah, but yours", you mumble. It sounds like you're almost proud of that. "Here's an idea, love: Get back home before I finish my shower and I'll show you just how sad I am that I couldn't watch you."

[bombuni]

first off I love your writing sm!! secondly, I've been thinking of this wooyoung and this picture from the acolyte and just cannot stop merging the two into one in my head, thinking about what master manipulator wooyo (qimir) would be like

contains: manipulative wooyoung (for the plot guys), dark side ? wooyoung, nothing bad but i fear potentially triggering for some ppl, pls be safe babies :)

bom note: i know next to nothing about sw or this show save for my poe phase in 2017 so pls excuse if this is inaccurate. i tried to do some research (watching manny jacinto edits on tiktok) but pls lmk if u want me to rewrite hehe!! i kinda rolled w this evil woo idea!!

You’re scolding yourself again.

As you watch him rise out of the clear, crisp water with droplets rolling off of his succulent skin, the voice in your head telling you to run quiets down. It all but turns silent when he smiles at you, canines on display. Your heart picks up speed because you’re reminded that he’s a predator through and through.

“You came,”

He acts surprised, but he knows you’d follow him anywhere. It took all but a glance to get you to fall for him the first time. Now, all he has to do is whisper your name and he’s sure you’ll come running.

You don’t say anything. Wooyoung’s lips twitch, “Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I’m not.” You spit these words out with a practiced venom, Wooyoung smiling at the betrayal in your voice. He can see through your lies from a mile away, trained until he could spot every little tic your sweet face gives.

He lets out a sharp, mocking laugh. Your body is confused on whether it’s infuriated or totally enraptured.

Wooyoung steps closer, but you take a step backwards. He looks you up and down, “Why not?”

You shake your head and back away even further, “Stop contacting me. It’s unseemly.”

He keeps stepping towards you, droplets of water rolling down his toned stomach, “You said that last time.”

Your back hits the rocky wall. You realize now how stupid it was to follow him out here to such a remote location. He’s probably done toying with you now, tired of the games you play and the chase you give. Your lungs try desperately to catch air now, with Wooyoung’s menacing stare and vicious smile all directed towards you.

He feels it. The quickening of your heartbeat and the pulse of your body. He walks to you again, pulling on the abandoned wool shirt he’d thrown haphazardly towards a rock earlier.

His hands land on either side of your head. He’s caging you in, “This’d be a lot easier if you just did what I asked,”

You can’t hear yourself think over the sound of the waves crashing. Or maybe it’s just Wooyoung who has that effect on you. He’s cold where his torso touches your revealed skin, eyes boring into yours as every second passes. You start to think he’s even stealing your air with his attempts to be as close to you as possible.

You start to feel claustrophobic, “What do you want from me, Wooyoung?”

The smile he gives you makes you sick with butterflies, pulling you in until you’re an inch away from his lips, “I just want you.”

His lips are still wet from the ocean. It’s salty and breathtaking. He’s breathtaking, like a jump from the highest cliff. He takes you over with just his mouth, exploring the inside of you with his tongue. You can feel his hands on your hips, possessively pulling you in as if you’re already his. The voice in your head is back now, shouting and pleading for you to ignore this giant ball of desire that’s imploding inside of you.

Wooyoung’s quiet whine into your mouth shuts that voice down again. He squeezes your hips, smirking into you as your entire body melts and dissolves into the entirety of him. You don’t even realize he’s won.

[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

hi ! i was wondering if it would be okay to ask you to write a hc, however long you please, about the m6 setting off a trigger for mc?

i love your content, you’re the best :3 !

The Arcana HCs: When M6 accidentally trigger MC

CW for descriptions of panic attacks, references to being burned alive/MC canon backstory, and your LI feeling very guilty

-- to set the scene --

It was just a midnight cupcake.

You already knew there were plans for your birthday in the morning, which is why it was such a surprise to see your beloved stealing into the darkened room at midnight with a small excited smile and a single cupcake with one lit candle. For a moment, everything's perfect. Cozy, sweet, calm, if a little blurry from the sleep in your eyes.

Until you reach up to rub the sleep out of them, and when you bring your hands down, the flame of the candle is right in front of your face where you least expect it.

Your beloved's invitation to blow it out and make your first wish goes unheard as your sleepy brain catapults itself into fight-or-flight. Your limbs seize with panic as the flame grows a hundred times the size in your mind, the dimly lit room turning into the yawning darkness of the Lazaret. Your breath comes short and fast and you can't talk - you can't speak - you can't tell them you're not dead yet, you're not dead yet -

Julian

Recognizes the symptoms of panic instantly but is a little confused about why - he doesn't recall you being afraid of midnight treats

Of course, this doesn't hinder him from helping you at all. He's a doctor. He doesn't stop to ask why when there is clearly something wrong and you need his help

Putting the cupcake down (candle still lit) on a nearby surface right away so he can focus completely on you

Being as tactile as he is, his next movements are to lay two large, cool, steady hands on your shoulders and give you just enough pressure to ground you long enough to listen to him

Breathe. You need to breathe. Listen to him while he counts, and he'll get you through this safe and sound

Nobody beats this doctor's bedside manner. His voice is soothing, steady, and just persuasive enough to help you follow his instructions as he walks you through several grounding techniques

Once the panic has passed and you're mentally back in the safety of your room, though, that's when his own questions begin

What set it off? Was it ... was it something he did? It was, wasn't it? Was it trying to talk at midnight? Did he walk towards you too fast?

You can see horror dawning across his face when he puts two and two together, whether because you tell him or because he guesses. He's ready to spend the rest of the night condemning himself

You already know that it'll take much more than accepting his apology to convince him that things are alright

Which mostly takes the form of responding to every apology with a thank you for getting you through the panic, and coming up with ways to let him take care of you

Will propose triggering him in return, to make it even (don't do it)

Asra

Realizes what's happening as it's happening because being fully tuned in to you is second nature at this point and oh no - oh no

Hastily blowing out the candle and summoning some gentle lights instead, reaching out to hold you and try to make it better and worrying as they do so that it'll only make it worse

Thankfully, his touch has been soothing for as long as you can remember. He's tracing a slow square on your palm to breathe in time with, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close

Draping the closest blanket or shawl around your shoulders, using magic to cool the temperature of the room enough to avoid any uncomfortable warmth

Quietly pulling you out of the flashback and back into the mundane, safe present by asking you the simplest questions

Is that a triangle or a circle they're tracing on your knee? Are they touching your right hand, or your left hand? Can you count how many fingers they're holding up? How about now?

When you're back and your breathing is normal again, the silence is tense. He knows what set you off - and he still blames himself for leaving you to a fate like that, even if he fought to change it after

They're quick to try to brush it off, focusing on making you comfortable and lulling you back to sleep to avoid addressing it

But given how inextricably twined the two of you are at this point, you're not the only person who's been triggered by this

Holding him close as well and telling him it's not his fault will result in wide-eyed, vulnerable look, a slow sag in his shoulders, a shared slump into bed together to remember that you're both alive and ok

They are also extremely resilient, and will wake up on your birthday morning ten times lighter for the release and ready to celebrate

Nadia

She's not entirely certain that the flame is what set you off, but she's pretty sure it is and she's already scolding herself internally for putting it so close to your face

Setting the treat down, blowing out the candle as she does and immediately trying to talk to you and figure out what you need

No, she's not an expert on helping with panic attacks, but she likes to think she's an expert on you, and she is dedicated to giving you the best. Talk to her, if you can -

Oh. Oh dear, it seems you can't

She's taking her cues from you, positioning herself where she takes up most of your field of vision, using her capacity to take control and make you feel safe to help you focus

Cupping your face between two manicured, strong hands, stroking her thumbs along your cheekbones and telling you in a rich, authoritative voice to take some breaths, good job darling, another

Slowly bringing you down and practically gluing herself to your side so you don't have to feel alone in this for one moment

At the same time, she's trying not to let you see how her forehead is wrinkling up from the worry and disappointment she feels in herself. How could she do this to you?

Her worst fears are confirmed when she insists on helping you verbally process what just happened, shouldering the guilt of having hurt you and of not taking a moment to think first earlier

She doesn't forgive herself easily when she feels like she's failed in her duty to care for her loved ones. It's a great moment to remind her that care goes both ways and doesn't have to be perfect

Still needs to ramp up her efforts to pamper you over the following days to prove that she can take good care of you

Muriel

Oh, this is his worst fear coming true, and if the guilt of triggering you wasn't enough, he already feels bad for wanting to walk away to work through his own triggers coming to light

He's not going to walk away. Not from you. He just feels bad that he wants to, when you already put up with so much from him

None of the above thought processes slow down his response. The cupcake is being put to the side. He's crouching in front of you and searching for the earliest "ok" to touch you since he knows it helps

And then he's scooping you up, getting you to the safest part of the hut (in the bed, scooted all the way into the corner) so he and Inanna can sandwich you in a warm, heavy, safe embrace

He's tucking your favorite carving into your palm, layering a heavy fur over your shoulders, pressing your hand to his chest so you can feel his deep breathing and mimic it

He doesn't trust his voice, and words are hard anyways, but he knows how to speak with his actions and he'll do whatever works best to tell you that you are safe

And, if you need to talk about it as you start to breathe easy again, he'll listen as much as he needs to to tell you you're heard

Of course, once the crisis has passed and you're doing better, the urge to isolate himself is stronger than ever. His own worst fear came true in hurting you, and that was in an act of love alone

He didn't even need to touch you to cause distress

Until you're both able to fall asleep, the time passes as you trade comfort and grounding, taking turns to reassure each other that the past holds no threat to your present and future

He's not going to ask you to start or tend the fire for a long time, though. That's his job now

Portia

She's frozen in shock for all of five seconds when you start to panic, simply because it's so completely unexpected

Shoves the cupcake aside completely forgotten on a fire-safe surface so she can take your hands in hers and squeeze them enough to make you look at and listen to her

Lowkey panicking because she has patience, sure, but she has very little experience sitting with anyone through something like this besides her older brother, who she usually just slaps out of it

She's going to fix her mistake of making your environment feel threatening by making it feel safe instead

She's shoving Pepi into your lap, wrapping a heavy quilt around your shoulders, trying to find a balance of lighting that's as soothing and cozy and grounding as possible

All while she inwardly battles feelings of worthlessness with uncharacteristic levels of quiet

She's sure her older brother would be more reassuring, with all that worldly knowledge under his belt - or the Countess, who knows exactly how to take charge and make everything better

She's in front of you with your hands in hers, watching you with total faith in your ability to survive and overcome, feeling a little too much like her five-year-old self guarding Ilya from the tooth fairy

Helpless. She feels helpless. And worse, she got you into this mess because she didn't know you well enough

Seeing you pull through and return to your usual self (albeit very tired) is enough to lift her spirits, but it's the way you still want her to sleep next to you that starts to give her hope

She still apologizes multiple times as she's falling asleep

And she's not letting anyone else use this trigger against you, ever

Lucio

He's plenty familiar with symptoms of panic. He grew up on a battlefield and has plenty of suppressed trauma, he knows what being triggered looks and feels like

That said, he's caught entirely off guard because it's a cupcake with a candle in it!! Since when was that scary?? This was supposed to be a sweet romantic gesture, not a horror show -

Oh right right right you're panicking and it's probably his fault and oh no he's familiar with this but that doesn't mean he's good at helping with it, he needs backup

Mercedes and Melchior are already on it. Their doggy senses have one of them curling around your back while the other crawls into your lap, offering their silky smooth fur to touch and soothe you

Lucio is putting the cupcake down to be quickly forgotten so he has his hands free to try to help, doing the things that he's noticed calm you down on a regular basis

Bringing you your favorite blanket, patting you on the back in a steady rhythm so you know he's right there if you need a hug, telling you it's okay to cry, he'll keep you nice and safe

And dedicating every speck of his being to some good quality cuddles if you need them, because he doesn't take a moment of your wellbeing for granted. He's holding you as tightly as needed

There is the aftermath, of course. He won't stop asking until you tell him why you panicked, and then he'll be faced with knowing he's somewhat responsible for both fires

He's actually pretty used to being the guilty party at this point. There's always the fear, deep down, that he'll run out of grace, but as soon as you forgive him he fully believes you

None of this is stopping him from partying hard for you tomorrow

[solselah]

WHAT YOU NEED

TO KNOW ??

🚨Very truthful & may be triggering for some who aren’t ready to hear it quite yet ! Do take your time & feel free to Come back if need be :)

PILE 1 :

It’s TIME to move on !! Whether this be in love, a career, or simply mental ! There is something here you are holding onto like white on rice ! Like you’re stuck on this one thing that can bring you pleasure for the moment but doesn’t quite fulfill you in the long run ! I can tell you know this, but there is something pulling you in the same direction constantly ! From what I see, it’s because there is a big lesson for self-respect & it’s meant to be learned & accomplished by you. You know right from wrong, so your ancestors are waiting for you to take that step to release what it is that burdens you. You may overlook what I’m speaking of, and it might just hit you a little later which is okay. As long as you’re able to digest the truth !!

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

PILE 2: I’ll say this ….

“The truth will set you free”.

under all circumstances!! And even though what you may be going through doesn’t seem fit for that saying, you are in fact a direct reflection of “The truth setting you free”. You’re almost good at lying to yourself to make you feel good. You need a powerful wake-up call. And btw, it’s not to harm you “further” it is to enlighten you about the things you’re actually doing and the karma for that. I don’t see the worst karma, but there are some lessons involved with you bypassing the lessons & TRUTH once again. The mask you wear can only last, but so long. The right person can /will come across you and either read you down or politely mirror back to you your Triggers & Lies. You’re obviously not a bad person, but it’s a thing you do that can definitely be cleaned up or removed in totality. You will learn 📚❤️

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

PILE 3:

You need to know immediately that the people who have wronged you or crossed you will receive their KARMA & you will be on the receiving end of justice. Whether this be judicial /Spiritual / physical etc. it’s important you view yourself as a Queen /King and step into your power accordingly! The path is clear and set for you & it’s up to you to take that step forward! Your guides are making it known that you would benefit from bringing a light-hearted energy into this new phase of yours!! It may be shocking or very sudden, but ultimately it’s a jump start to your desires. You’ve uncovered & experienced what’s not for you & it’s now time to manifest and attract what IS !!

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

PILE 4 :

You do NOT need to kiss ass !!!! Whatsoever. You tend to overanalyze your movements! It’s time to wake up that confidence within you so that you can begin to change the outlook you carry about yourself!! Heavy self-love energy. It’s so important for you to indulge in self-care & healthy patterns just to assure you everything from the inside out is balanced & free from tension. You are waking up a confident part of yourself, and it’s completely stopping all self-rejection and self-doubt !! So just know you are absolutely on the right path and have so much to uncover about yourself!!

⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾ ⦾

Hope you enjoy ✨

IG: @soleccentric

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: hello again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You shut Naomi's door as she sprawls on the bed. You push the chair in front of it, making sure the handle can only catch on the top. You search out some clothes from her dressed and put them on her, guiding the fabric along her limp body. 

You roll her under the blankets and check her breathing. She's really out of it now. Her eyelashes flutter but she can only murmur senselessly. 

You don't know what to do. You should go back home and tell your mom all about Steve. But you can't leave Naomi here. You're worried about her and whatever the hell is going on with her and Bucky. 

You slide off your glasses and rub your eyes. You sigh as you try to untangle the web winding wider and wider around you. It's all so strange.

There's a soft tapping at the door. You jolt up and fold your arms as you stare.

"Doll, let me explain," Bucky pleads from the other side, "there's something you need to know about Naomi."

You tremble but don't answer. You don't know how to. You have nothing to say.

You get up and walk towards the door. As you near, you hear the friction of his hand on the wood and he rasps, "doll…"

You turn off the lights and back away. You go back to the bed and climb in next to Naomi. She grumbles and grabs your hand clumsily.

"It's okay," you assure her, not even sure she can hear you, "in the morning. We'll figure it out then."

You don’t know if you're assuring yourself or her. You stare at the door, the shadow beneath, and hear the long exhale of Bucky’s frustrated capitulation. The door shifts just a little as he pushes off and his footsteps retreat down the hallway.

You only realise then how your heart is thumping so loud. How afraid you are that he would come through that door. That question of what would happen if he did. Could you fend him off yourself?

You nestle in close to Naomi, pulling the blanket around both your bodies. You don’t understand. None of it. This whole night has been a slurry of confusion.

Steve, his wife; Bucky, his confession; and Naomi. She’s as young and afraid as you. How can she not be? Whatever is going on, you can only feel horrid for her. For whatever trap she’s fallen into. The more you think about it, the more you realise how few people really care for her.

You don’t know what to do or where to go, you just know you have to get away from here. You need to get space and you need to get answers. Whether she wants to or not, Naomi is going to give you them. You are going to keep asking until you have the truth.

☀️

You can’t sleep. It’s just before six and you’re still awake. You lay with an arm beneath Naomi’s head as she huddles into you. It’s almost peaceful despite the underlying wave of anxiety. 

You move slowly, without a solid plan, but you have to get going. You know that much. You don’t want to wait too long. You don’t want Bucky to try to stop you and you don’t want to lose your nerve.

You put your glasses on and change in the low dim of the summer morning. Next, you check your bag and make sure you have everything; phone, keys, wallet. You search the room and find Naomi’s phone but no wallet. You go to the bed and gently squeeze her arm.

“Hey, hey, where’s your wallet?” You whisper.

She grumbles and clutches the pillow, pulling it closer as she buries her face in it. Shit. This isn’t going to be easy. Whatever, fuck the wallet.

“Nay,” you rub her shoulder, “hey, you gotta get up. We’re going to get coffee.”

She babbles, gibberish really. You manage to turn her onto her back as you brush her hair away from her face. Her lashes flutter as you stroke her cheek with your thumb.

“You promised we’d go for coffee, remember?” 

It’s a lie but she’s barely cognizant. You just need to get her on her feet. She grumbles and you retract your touch. You go back to her dress and take out a white hoodie with American Eagle scrawled across the front. You return to the bed and hook your arms around her, pulling her to a sitting position.

You manage to hook the sweater over her head and let her lay back so you can guide her arms down the sleeves. She stirs and shakes her head, swatting at her as one sleeve hangs lower than her hand still.

“Stop,” she gurgles.

“Hey, come on, coffee time,” you coax her, “I promised you a double shot latte.”

“Too early,” she sneers groggily.

“Na-omi,” you hiss the syllables, “get up.”

She shakes her head but you’re able to sit her up. She’s only half awake as you help her get her legs over the side. You find some sandals for her and keep them in hand as you manage to get her to her feet.

You sling her arm over your shoulders, bag hooked over your other elbow, and flip flops grasped tightly. Awkwardly, you use the arm around her to twist the door handle and inch it open with your foot. You peek out before sidling out with Naomi.

You listen after each step, a gradual flight from this place that grows eerier by the second. You get to the front door and manage to scoop up your own shoes from the mat. Naomi’s weight isn’t so heavy as she yawns, more aware with each step.

You manage to get out the front door, not without a chirp from the security system, and jostle down the steps. You take Naomi to your car, dropping your hand full into the back seat before settling her into the passenger side. You do up her belt and close the door.

You hear the same chirp as you go around the driver’s side of the car. You glance over the roof and see Bucky appear, his hair askew as he stops short and looks at you with a desperate frown. He says your name but you ignore him, dropping behind the wheel and hitting the locks as you shut yourself in.

You turn the engine and back out, swerving sharply around to drive down the long driveway. You don’t look as you turn out onto the slow suburban street, squeezing the wheel as you lean into it. Just keep going.

“Erm,” Naomi murmurs, “what’s going on?”

You sigh and keep your eyes set ahead of you, “that’s what you’re going to tell me.”

☀️

You rub your forehead as you take your first sip of coffee. You bask in the heat and flavour. It’s almost refreshing. Naomi slurps from her cup sloppily and groans as she puts it back in the cupholder. She falls forward and rests her head on her arms against the dashboard.

“Ugh, I feel like shit.”

“I bet you do,” you say, almost heartlessly. “You were fucked up last night, Nay. You really scared me. I don’t… how did you get so bad?”

She raises her head, clutching it as she makes herself sit up. She stares through the windshield and bends her arm through the open window. She grabs her cup again and takes another drink.

“I was sneaking shots in the bathroom when we were getting ready,” she pouts, “I’m sorry. I was so nervous and… you know how my dad is.”

He huff. She doesn’t remember but you do. You’re not going to let it fester. You need to know.

“Your dad?” You say, heart jumping as you try to find the way forward. How do you say it? You don’t want to accuse her because you don’t think she did anything wrong? You don’t even know how to explain your suspicion. “Naomi, do you remember anything last night?”

She sets her cup between her thighs, keeping it there as she shrugs and scratches the back of her neck. She rubs her temples and squeezes her eyes shut.

“I remember Steve being a dick,” she says thinly, “but… no.”

You take a deep breath. This is the line. You step over it and it disappears. There’s no going back but after what you saw, you think it’s already gone. You already can’t forget.

“Naomi,” you gulp and pause to take another swig of your coffee. You hug the hot cup between your palms and gather your strength, arranging the words just so before you say them, “last night… I saw you and Bucky.”

“Hmm?” She won’t look at you. Her throat constricts and she just stares out at the empty plaza, across at the Starbucks where cars line up in the drive-thru. “I don’t remember, I told you. I get crazy when I’m drunk.”

“Naomi,” you repeat more firmly, to ground yourself and her, “you were on top of him. You said… you asked him to… like Rome?” You quote her uncertainly, “does your dad…”

She hangs her head and heaves. She clamps her lips tight and moves her late from between her legs. She bends forward and grips her head before making herself sit up straight. You see her fighting herself.

“He’s not,” she says at last. She won’t look at you as she leans her head against one hand, her elbow still through the window, “not my dad. My name isn’t Barnes. I met him last year, right before tuition was due. He could pay, my parents wouldn’t, and I needed to get out. So. Those are the facts. Details don’t matter.”

You stare at her. You’re flooded with dread and confusion and despair. You don’t get it though.

“If he’s not… then why lie to me?”

She laughs sardonically and tilts her head back, slipping her arm off the door. She wrings her hands in her lap and shrugs.

“You thought I was cool. I didn’t want you to know how pathetic I really am.”

You nod. You try not to judge. You might not see yourself doing something like that but did you ever really consider it? Besides, Bucky’s old enough to know better, Naomi just seems lost. And even if she lied, you’re still friends.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic. I only wish you hadn’t lied. It might be… different but I don’t know, I don’t think I wouldn’t hate you. I still don’t. But, I need you to explain it to me. I want to understand.”

She sucks her teeth and chew her lip. You see her thoughts, her struggle, and for the first time, she isn’t putting on her barbie doll mask.

“I started an Only Fans when I turned eighteen. My parents are not doing well. They lost some money because they paid into this crypto thing and the first thing to be on the chopping block was school,” she shakes her head at the windshield, her cheeks taut with emotion, “I was upset. I’m not the brightest but I worked hard to get accepted and I don’t know. School is my only option besides… this.

“My mom always told me I could marry rich but I didn’t want to be stuck with some dude forever. So I thought selling pictures and videos. Then I met Steve. And Wanda. They were looking for a third. I did that for a little but they move around. They introduced me to Bucky. He just split with Yelena because he was messing with Natasha.”

“Natasha?”

“The very same,” she affirms, “anyway, he liked my pictures, he was on my OF. He asked me to go to Rome with him. I told him I had school coming soon and I needed to make more money to pay for it. He offered to cover tuition if I went away with him in August. So I said yes.”

You sit in silence. Wow. That’s a lot. You don’t know what to say.

“Then I went away to school. My parents found out about my OF then, I mean, it wasn’t them paying for it. And they said I couldn’t come back home. They were selling the house anyway. Bucky offered to pick up my stuff and said I could crash for the break. That things could carry on…”

A tear breaks free and streams down her cheek, then another, and another. She sniffs and wipes her face.

“They did. I didn’t mind. It was fun but now. Now it feels like he just puts up with me. I’m terrified. I’m going to be put out on the street whenever he decides this is really over.”

“Nay,” you say softly and touch her arm. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. I couldn’t even…”

“It’s why I wanted to be your friend. You’re so sweet and accepting. And not like me. You’re genuine and I wanted someone like that to like me. So I lied. Over and over. I’m sorry. I know an apology can only do so much.”

You sniff and shudder out a breath. You still don’t know what to think about everything. You know Steve and Wanda are questionable, that you didn’t need help with. But Bucky, you can’t decide. Is he just moving on or is he just looking to use another girl?

“I’m not mad at you, Naomi, and I’m still gonna be your friend, but I don’t know what to do.”

She nods slowly, “me either.”

“But I think that my mom would let you sleep over.”

She raises her brows and looks at you. Her face is streaked from crying and her eyes reddened with her hangover. You see her trembling, you see the sparkle in her pupils, you see the desperate hope. You see her glowing. More beautiful than you've ever seen her before.

“I just have to apologise to her first,” you utter, “but, for you, I can swallow my pride.”

“You… you’d really do that for me?”

“Yeah, I mean, with what you’ve told me about Steve, he’s not gonna be a problem for long, is he? He’ll go find another girl to mess with.”

“Ha, yeah, trust me, he doesn’t last that long,” she gives a croaky laugh as she sucks up the last of her tears, mopping her face with her hoodie sleeves, “talks a bigger game than he can play.”

You chuckle then pick up your cup again, glancing around the lot.

“How about we wait around and have some breakfast before we go? You look like you could use some bacon.”

“Mmmm,” she hums, “gimme all the bacon!”

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 55)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

Later that week, when Mara was staying with your mother, you finally had some time with Sean again, and he took you out for a nice dinner, really making an effort to win you over.

He was staying over that night as well, but somehow, you couldn't stop thinking about that email, about Cillian and how he had made you feel for all those nights you had spent together in the past. He consumed your thoughts, making you feel suffocated and uncertain about your current, albeit casual, relationship with Sean.

As you were sleeping with Sean that night, you realised again how empty and meaningless the sex was. His every touch and kiss felt forced, almost robotic, and this was in stark contrast to how Cillian had always made you feel during your intimate moments.

You knew you shouldn't be comparing the two of them, but you couldn't help it. The way Cillian had always looked at you during those stolen moments, the hunger and the tenderness that was evident in his gaze, made you feel like you were the only woman in the world who mattered to him.

Sean's gaze never had that intensity, never quite reached that depth.

With Sean, everything was rushed, everything was a little too eager, like he was just going through the motions to get to the end result. With Cillian, everything was taken slow, every kiss and touch savored and appreciated. He made you feel cherished and desired, and in that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you.

Once, during your encounter that night with Sean and right after you took control, riding yourself to yet another forced orgasm, you even said Cillian's name, instead of Sean's, and Sean had immediately pulled away from you, eyes widened with shock.

You had apologized instantly and tried to explain it away as a slip of the tongue, but your discomfort lingered between you, creating an awkward silence that was hard to fill.

Afterward, when the two of you lay there in the dark, Sean's arm reluctantly draped around your bare waist, you both pretended to sleep. You couldn't bring yourself to touch him, to make another attempt at intimacy, and you didn't know if he was willing to try again, either.

He stayed though nonetheless and pretended that you never said your ex's name instead. He was still hopeful  that he could win you over and you were not sure how to feel about it at this point. You felt guilty for being unfaithful to him in your thoughts and actions but, at the same time, your heart felt heavy knowing that you still loved someone else.

Sean was a good guy, but he simply didn't make you feel the way Cillian did. Yes, Sean was more compatible with you when it came to age, and the sex was better now than it had been in the beginning, but emotionally, there was no comparison. You felt things with Cillian that you never felt with Sean or any other man.

When morning  came, you both woke up early. Sean got up first and started to make coffee. You laid there, thinking about what had happened the previous night.

You knew you needed to talk to Sean, but you weren't sure what to say. You felt guilty for using him like that, but you also knew that you were not in love with him.

Sean came back to the bedroom with two cups of coffee. He handed you one and sat down on the bed next to you.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"I'm fine," you murmured, still lost in thought. He knew there was more to your silence than meet the eye, but he didn't press you for answers. Instead, he took a seat next to you on the bed, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me whatever's bothering you if you don't want to," he said, his voice soft. You looked at him, studying his features.

"But you know, on a different topic. I was thinking about Siobhan's wedding," he hesitantly offered before taking a sip of his coffee. "And I was wondering whether you would take me as your plus one," he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat and you gazed into his eyes, trying to read the sincerity that lay within them. 

"I...I don't know," you faltered, glancing away from his searching gaze. "I don't think it would go down well with Cillian and his familu..." you pointed out, knowing the reality of the situation. "Plus, we are not exclusive and I don't think it would be appropriate to bring you along. I am sorry Sean ."

Sean's face dropped and for a moment, you saw the hurt pale green eyes staring back at you.

"It is just a wedding, Y/N," he protested. "And to tell you the truth, I don't like your ex being there while I am not," Sean  said firmly, his eyebrows furrowed in determination.

You sighed deeply, feeling a twinge of guilt towards him. "I know, but it's his sister's wedding and she happens to be a good friend of mine," you explained. " So, I  don't want to cause any drama for her on her big day," you added, trying to soften the blow.

Sean seemed to understand, but the disappointment in his eyes was clear. "I get it. I just thought it might help us develop our relationship a bit more," he told you, knowing very well that this was not what you had in mind. 

"Sean, please, we have been through this before and you know that I don't want anything serious right now," you reminded him, feeling a twinge of frustration which is when Sean finally gave up.  "Alright, fine," he said with a sigh, his anger placated temporarily before he decided that it was time for him to get ready for work. 

***

After work, Sean caught up with his friend Mark again to tell him what happened the night before and it was obvious to Mark that this was going to be a lost cause now. Not that he hadn't known already, but this new revelation confirmed it beyond any shadow of a doubt.

"Man, she didn't even respond to my email. His publicist did. So, I am not sure what to tell you. Maybe she is a lost cause," Mark told his friend honestly after hearing what he had to say, but Sean wouldn't let go of you just yet.

"I don't get it Mark. I know he is famous and all, but she doesn't seem to care about that and, yet she is still hung up on him. He isn't even that attractive," Sean grumbled, scrolling through news articles about Cillian on his phone. "And he is almost fifty for crying out loud. I have no idea what she sees in that guy," Sean continued venting to Mark, honestly confused about how, as a woman in your early twenties, you even got involved with a man Cillian's age.  "He might not even be able to satisfy her in bed seeing how she is so much fucking younger," he chuckled cynically, almost feeling embarrassed to admit that he himself couldn't fully satisfy you.

But then again, it wasn't just their strange age difference or even the rumors of Cillian's infidelity that bothered Sean about you and your ex's relationship. There was something about Cillian that he just found distasteful. Perhaps it was his celebrity status or maybe it was his arrogant demeanor when he was around Sean. Whatever it was, Sean didn't like him

"Man, I don't know, but you might actually need to let her go because that woman is fucking destroying you , and she doesn't even know it," Mark advised. "I mean, how long have you been chasing her around now? Two or three fucking months or more? And you still haven't made any real progress."

Mark was right. Sean had been trying to win you over for months and while he had managed to sleep with you regularly, it was quite clear that you were not interested in anything serious. But he didn't want to give up just yet and, instead, he was ready to up his game  even further.

"I know, but I can't help it," Sean said, glancing back at your profile picture on his phone. "She is just so fucking beautiful and smart, I can't get her out of my head. I need her in my life, Mark."

Mark sighed deeply and shook his head. He had known this would happen from the start and he had warned Sean multiple times that chasing after a woman who was clearly uninterested in anything serious would only lead to heartbreak, but Sean wouldn't listen.

"Let's get that article published then without her statement. It might ruffle some feathers and Y/N might even come around after that, seeing how her ex is not so perfect after all," Mark suggested to Sean although he knew it was a long shot.

Sean nodded in agreement, as he scrolled through his phone, looking for any recent articles about Cillian, but none of them were as significant as what Mark was about to release in the Irish Times. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[eliciria]

hello love!

i saw that you write yandere material and are looking for inspiration! so if you don’t mind I’d love to request some yandere headcanons for satan from om (๑>؂•̀๑)

a/n : heyyy !! thanks so much for requesting. It's a bit short, I hope you don't mind.

whisper to the trees ... (ask box status) : open

check my about me/request rules here

wc : 0.67k words

cws : dark content, mdni! suggestive asf, mentions of kidnapping (not on you), potential smut in the end?

song playing : prayer1 by april27

Yandere! Satan headcanons

On a scale of 1-10, from how scary Satan would be compared to other demons if they were a yandere, I'd make Satan a solid 5.

I am not like Keith Lee, and I can't give that much of a rating without being a little bit biased. So I'll just try to validate my opinion.

Let's start with the fact that this man is pretty much the concept of a person who does his homework. He knows what makes you feel disgusted and what tingles your stomach in lust.

May or may not have studied human anatomy just to use it to his advantage.

Aching from school? He's already massaging the part between your shoulder and neck that makes you feel good, albeit a bit ticklish.

Someone flirted with you at school? Satan kidnaps them, syringes a lethal amount of vitamin c underneath their tongue, and leaves them out on the streets. People say the poor student died from cardiac arrest.

You were a bit uncomfortable after hearing that one. You had just talked to that demon after all. Were you next? Your train of thought was interrupted as Satan ruffles your hair, telling you to be safe. You offer him a smile, and you nod. (He watches as you walk to RAD, shuffling the syringe between his index and middle finger)

Doesn't let you leave his room, and not in the "I captured you" way that you'd imagine. Of course you have to go to school and, do the occasional meet up with those outside (Solomon checking on you), he lightly gaslights you into staying with him for the majority of your stay within HOL. (Little do you know, he may or may not have pulled some strings for you to stay with him here. You aren't leaving hell, sorry.)

Lends you his clothes, in fact, kind of pressures you to wear it. It triggers something in him, a desire. He wants to be all yours, and you to be all his. Wearing a shirt or one of his turtle necks solidifies the fact that you reciprocate this.

He knows what he's doing is toxic and wrong, but he attempts to justify it. (He is going through a crisis within himself trying to validate his gaslighting and manipulating.)

He's incredibly sweet to you, and I mean incredibly. Buying you your favorite drinks, reading to you, all that.

Follows the sidewalk rule for his life, always peels your oranges and whatever fruit you want, and always attempts to keep his anger from bubbling out.

It rarely ever works though, as he is still the avatar of Wrath. Rage bubbles out, especially if something happens to you in particular. Lucifer scolding him? Fine. Mammon stealing his books? He'll get him later. But you going missing? (You were late by 2 minutes..) He was beginning to feel nauseous, his fist clenching. He gripped the book in front of him, trying to keep calm. The ticking of the clock seemingly became louder, and right as he was about to start ravaging his room, a soft hand laid on his lower back.

"Satan?" You say softly, trying to determine whether or not he was angry. He lets out a breath. You smelled so nice. A bit too nice. He turns around. The way that he looked at you now made it seem like he wasn't fuming and holding in his barely contained anger a few seconds ago.

"Hm?" A smile on his face. You couldn't tell what he was thinking of, but the way that he gripped your hand after you stopped holding his shoulder, he probably needed some comfort. (You were dead wrong, he was holding in a boner right then and there.)

You hugged him, patting his back.

"Are you angry?" You mutter quietly. He blinks, before hugging you back "No, no I am not." He takes a whiff of your scent. Sweet. He suddenly gripped your waist, eliciting a yelp from you.

He has decided. Instead of ravaging the room, he'll ravage you instead.

a/n : i leave that to your imagination. reminder i do write smut, so this can continue! My requests are open, so please do request if you have something in mind! Thanks for reading.