#this could’ve been a point Sam made

[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy���

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

#sam golbach #sam and colby #sam and colby smut #sam and colby fanfiction #colby brock #colby brock smut #colby brock fluff #colby brock angst #sam golbach smut #sam golbach fanfic #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby x reader #Colby x reader smut #colby brock x reader #youtuber #smut #best friends #friend to lovers

[lordprettyflackotara]

affection || sam golbach

smut 18+, minors dni

part two is here

the finale is here

Sam Golbach knew you were a bad idea. He knew it from the moment Colby drunkenly brought you home on his arm.

Sam had hoped you would be a one night stand for Colby, something that was common for his best friend.

But you weren’t.

You and Colby were stuck like glue, and Sam never had a moment of peace once you joined their lives.

It always amazed him that you were able to keep up with their fast paced lives, always making time in your own business schedule for their adventures.

Whether it was flying to Boston or going to Waffle House at one am, you never minded going.

And Sam grew to resent that.

Even when he was with Kat, she was often more hesitant. Sam knew no matter how much he adored Kat, she wanted to settle down.

No matter how much in denial Sam was, he just wasn’t ready for that.

Yet you, his best friends girlfriend, were more than Sam could’ve ever hoped for.

But you just weren’t his.

It took a year or so before Colby got bored. Sam watched it happen, ever so slowly. The way his gaze shifted to the waitresses at the restaurants they went to. Or the way he watched him slyly respond to other girls instagram dms. Sam was convinced he noticed Colby’s shift in behavior sooner than you did.

Then the fighting started. You two rarely ever fought, and Sam could hear every last word.

You had a hard time handling your emotions, admittedly feeling insane as Colby denied your allegations. But you noticed it all. The way his hand left yours quicker. The way he hid his phone more. Your sex life declining.

You often found yourself envying Sam and Kat, who seemed to have the perfect relationship to you. She was excited to ghost hunt with the boys. You knew she wanted Sam to settle down quicker and you applauded her tolerance to his hesitation. You overheard her moans overpowering the sound of the shower her and Sam were sharing one time, heat of embarrassment washing over you.

Yet, you found yourself envying her position. At that point Colby barely touched you anymore, constantly on his phone. You wished you were in her place, Sam abusing your cervix as you begged for more.

Sam and Kat broke up first. Sam knew it was coming, like the smell of rain settling into the air. It was a messy breakup, the two of them having a very public relationship. You weren’t a content creator, and even as Sam tried to dry his puffy eyes, he wished Kat weren’t either. It would’ve made things so much more simplistic if she had been just like you.

Colby was almost entirely absent from your life once Sam and Kat broke up. You found yourself resenting Sam and yearning for his attention more and more as time went on.

His absence resulted in your break up. Thats what Colby would contribute it to, anyways. You’d debate he lost interest in you. As you packed your suitcases, Sam watching you from a far. He envied the way you maintained a poker face. You weren’t a babbling, incoherent mess. Instead, you stood poised and unbothered. Colby was talking to you about items you both possessed. If Sam couldn’t hear him, he would’ve never guessed. Your face sat still and unnerved, as if Colby was discussing the weather.

It was storming when you packed up your car and left. You had never officially moved in, unlike Kat. Another thing Sam envied. You slammed the trunk of your car down, fat raindrops embedding themselves onto your clothes and skin. Sam sat perched beside his window, watching you curiously.

Even in the security of being alone, you hadn’t cried a single tear. You felt Sam’s gaze on you, your eyes curiously meeting his. You weren’t sure why he was watching you, your hair becoming soaking wet from the unrelenting weather. In a simple, yet bold move, you waved. Sam, hesitantly, waved back.

If Sam had known that would’ve triggered the following events for the next six months, he would’ve slammed the curtains shut.

You were nervous to text him first, your brain racking itself to figure out a logical reason to reach out to your ex’s best friend. After all, you only had his number to previously communicate about Colby. Yet now, you were searching for reasons to see his best friend.

Asking Sam to deliver an old hoodie you didn’t want was all it took. Sam was more than happy to deliver it, conveniently forgetting to mention it to Colby. It resulted in a long entanglement neither of you could shake.

Sam never fully recovered from his break up with Kat, just like you never fully recovered from your break up with Colby. Sam wished Kat had been like you, just like you prayed Colby would act more like Sam. You found yourself craving each other’s attention, satisfying the sick parts of yourself that desired affection. Even if that affection was twisted and wrong.

It made your skin crawl when you thought about how badly it would hurt Colby if he ever found out.

Sam couldn’t stand to think about it.

But guilt took a backseat when it came to your infatuation with one another.

It didn’t take long for feelings to develop, your mind becoming more occupied of Sam’s well being rather than his cock fucking your brains out. Sam came by on random evenings, whenever he wasn’t restricted by work. And lucky for you, tonight was one of those nights.

Sam opened your front door, the key to your place having grown well adjusted to his key ring. You were ready to greet him, staring up at him as he walked inside. He closed the door behind him, his hands finding your waist with ease.

“Took you long enough,” You teased, noting his tardiness. Sam rolled his eyes, letting out a small chuckle. “We found some great evidence, just so you know,” He debated, nuzzling his face closer to yours. You giggled, Sam pressing your back against the closest wall. Neither of you needed to look, this meeting practically routine. “Did you mention to the ghost they were cock blocking you?” You whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

Sam was so close to kissing you, the tension growing thicker with every passing second. “No, I was too occupied imagining destroying your cunt to think of that,” Sam mumbled. His veiny hands snaked down to your ass, grabbing the flesh harshly. A soft groan escaped your lips, your cheeks flushing red. “Yeah? You’re such an asshole you know. Fantasizing about your best friend’s ex girlfriend right in front of him,” You whispered.

Sam brought his lips harshly to yours, knocking the air out of your lungs. Nothing about his touch was ever gentle, his neediness trumpeting over worry of your wellbeing. A safe word was something developed in the beginning stages of your affair. Sam also knew your body like the back of your hand, he knew what you could handle. Your arms snaked their way around his neck, your lips fighting against his. “If I had it my way, i’d fuck you right in front of him too,” Sam growled, his lips refusing to stray from yours.

Your hips involuntarily bucked forward, his bulge growing faster by the second. Sam smirked, his hand slithering its way around your body. He cupped your heat, your thin shorts and panties restricting him from complete access to your cunt. “You like that idea, don’t you? Me ruining you better than he ever could,” Sam groaned, pressing against your clothed cunt. You craved more friction, your body craving him. You pulled away from his hungry lips, nuzzling yourself in his neck as he pulled your shorts and panties down in a single swipe.

“If it were up to me-” You swallowed hard, feeling his index and middle finger run up and down your drenched folds. Your mouth ran dry as a moan escaped you, his fingers teasing your entrance. “I’d have you breed me right in front of him, and maybe have him lick your cum as it drips out of me,” You moaned, gasping as Sam’s fingers abruptly shoved their way inside of you.

You always made Sam feel like a horny teenage boy, the way your walls squeezed him. Making him feel like he could cream in his pants at any moment. Sam’s spare hand slipped its way up to your throat, squeezing your sweet spots. “You filthy slut, I’d kill him if he ever touched you again. This sweet cunt is mine,” He said, curling his fingers inside of you. You gripped his veiny arm as he squeezed your throat, your moans becoming strangled and uncontrolled.

Sam liked having this dominance over you, watching you crumble as your brain slowly shut off. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Sam’s long fingers abusing your pussy. “Such a pretty girl. Go ahead and cream on my fingers like the good girl you are,” Sam praised. Your eyes met his, the eye contact only making you squeeze him tighter. Your legs trembled as the familiar wave of ecstasy clouded your senses, Sam’s strong hands keeping you from collapsing onto the floor. Your knees had buckled, Sam’s hand leaving your throat and your cunt.

You quietly whined at the loss of contact, your walls clenching around nothing. The moment your vision settled, your hands were on his belt. You wanted to taste him, to feel him abuse your throat. Sam stopped you, sliding his hoodie over his head. “Not this time, wanna feel you,” He mumbled, his needy nature shining through his desire to dominate you.

His neediness reminded you why you both started this entanglement to begin with. It wasn’t just the attraction, that wasn’t enough to cross all moral boundaries. It was the craving for raw affection, the kind that made your heart warm. The kind you day dream about, feeling his skin on yours.

You tossed off your own skimpy pajama top, pushing him towards the couch. His hands briefly abandoned you, your lips working against his as he undressed himself. Sam plopped on the couch, and you quickly followed after him. You straddled his lap, his shaft rubbing up and down against your folds. You groaned at the sensation as his tip brushed against your clit.

“I’m going to fuck you so stupid,” Sam muttered, reaching down to align himself. You lifted yourself on your knees, Sam’s gaze landing on your perky breast. He was a tits man more than anything, his attention now occupied. He leaned forward, taking your right breast into his mouth. Sam knew you liked to be overstimulated, his lips harshly sucking at your nipple. You moaned loudly as you sank down onto his cock, his mouth maintaining its place on your nipple.

Your fingers raked through his blonde hair, his cock stretching out your walls as his teeth grazed your nipple. “Fuck, Sammy,” You moaned, your head thrown back in euphoria. The affectionate nick name brought something out of him, something that wanted him to make you his. The blonde released your breast with a pop, a visible ring of saliva around your sensitive bud. Sam leaned forward, breaking you into a sweet kiss, briefly causing you to forget how rough he could actually be.

You were soon reminded, his hips bucking upwards. “Stay there and look pretty, let me ruin you,” Sam growled. His hands gripped your waist, his fingers digging so deeply into your flesh you were sure he would leave bruises. As sick and twisted as it was, you both got off on the idea of being better than each other’s exs. You’d never mention Kat to Sam, but he knew. Sam, however, relished in mentioning Colby to you. How much better he was than him. How much better he could fuck you. He never hesitated to remind you that he made you cum in ways Colby never knew how to.

Your moans were sounds of pure sin, ringing off of your living room walls. You knew your neighbors would be pissed, but keeping quiet was not something Sam enjoyed. Sam’s thrust were merciless, his own softer groans flooding your ears. That, and the sound of slapping skin, blinding your senses from the outside world. His cock abused your g spot, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Colby could never fuck you like this, could he?” Sam spat, attempting to regain some of your clouded attention.

You swallowed, trying to formulate a proper response.

“N-n-no. Only you Sam,” You panted, his brutal pacing never letting up. Sam smirked as you struggled to think, enjoying watching your brain melt for him. “You’re so fucked out and we’ve barely started,” Sam commented cockily. He would never admit it, but he could cum at any moment. Your body was a drug, the purest form of ecstasy he could have.

And you were all his.

His hips continued to slam into yours, destroying your cunt. “You feel so good,” You slurred, your nails leaving thin red marks into Sam’s pale shoulders. One of his hands abandoned your waist, snaking its way down to your clit. Your back arched as he began to draw slow circles around the bud, the extra stimulation bringing you closer to your peak. “So do you baby,” Sam grunted in response, his cheeks flushing pink as he fucked you.

As much as Sam loved to fuck you senseless and watch his seed drip out of your abused hole, he dreaded it at the same time. The same three words always threatened to leave his lips when he came, both of your bodies attached to the other. Those three words, would ruin the arrangement. Sam knew this. He knew this as your eyes rolled back in your head, your moans unholy music to his ears. The knot in your stomach was threatening to snap, your legs shaking as Sam held you up. You could tell Sam was coming close as well, his thrust becoming sloppy.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl. My good girl,” Sam emphasized, his hips stuttering. He groaned your name as he came, his warm cum filling up your abused cunt. You whined as his fingers continued to circle quickly around your clit, Sam’s attention returning completely on you. He hadn’t even finished riding out his high, his hand wrapping itself around your throat.

“Cmon whore, be a good slut for me,” Sam grunted. His cock remained inside of you, still at half mass. He bucked his hips slowly, pushing his cum deeper into your pussy. “You like that don’t you? My cum seeping deeper inside of you,” Sam smirked, not failing to notice your walls squeezing him. Sam brought himself closer to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “You like the idea that it’s me breeding you, don’t you? The idea that Colby would see you pregnant with my child,” Sam purred. You babbled a hardly coherent yes, your orgasm rushing upon you quickly.

“Go on then, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” Sam whispered. His dirty words were all it took, your thighs shaking as you creamed around his cock. You felt so filthy, getting off on Sam’s degrading words and relentless assault on your clit. You leaned forward, nuzzling your head against his abused shoulder. You closed your eyes, ignoring the red nail marks you had left on him moments ago.

The sound of both of your deep breathing was all you focused on, Sams long arms wrapping around you. It was also in moments like this, with you fucked out of your mind, that Sam wished he could say those dreaded three words to you. You were so vulnerable like this. So soft and sweet. With his cock growing soft inside of you, and the mixture of both of your guys cum leaking out of you, he wished things were different.

As much as he loved his best friend, he often day dreamed of the perfect world in these moments. One where maybe Colby didn’t exist, or Sam had gotten to you first. Sam stroked your back lovingly, taking in all of the affection he would soon be deprived of. Sam heard his phone buzz, the sound louder than it usually was. He could see Colby’s name light up on the screen.

Colby:

hey man where are you? we gotta edit this new video

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to leave you.

Not now, not ever.

But as he watched Colby’s name pop up on the caller ID, his ringtone reminded him why he could never say those three dreaded words.

Not now, not ever.

#sam and colby #sam golbach #sam and colby smut #sam golbach smut #colby brock #colby brock smut #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach x you #sam golbach x colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you

[likeadevils]

Midnights Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Midnights in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing Midnights and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order, or this playlist of her entire discography. (warning: there is a very large chunk in the middle of Midnights that I have no information on (Maroon-Dear Reader. On the playlist not the album I have guesses for more than one song)).

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date: 

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

Renegade: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: “I wrote the music [for Renegade] at some point after we finished [evermore], and sent it to her, because she was inspired by a llot of the Big Red Machine stuff we were working on. And she had already sung on Birch, a song that hasn't come out yet but is one of the major ones on the record. And I think she wanted to write a song for Big Red Machine. She very much feels like part of this community to me. So I wrote Renegade, the music, and sent it to her. And not unlike a lot of the things we've done together, one day I woke up to a voice memo from her and she had written this incredible song about how anxiety and fear get in the way of loving or being loved. And she was clearly thinking about Big Red Machine. And then we recorded her vocals and everything the week of the Grammys, when I was there in LA, and it was really nice to have something to think about that wasn't related to the Grammys - just to make music because you feel like making it." (transcript from jaimie)

High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: [Would've Could've Should've], we wrote that song together, and recorded it while we were together in LA for the folklore Grammys. It goes back that far. And the same with High Infidelity. Those songs, we actually recorded in her house, the vocals, we recorded them then. And I just kept making music, and it was kind, after we had made folklore and evermore, I started to have ideas which I would share. And eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different. But High Infidelity, and Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve, and The Great War, and we made Hits Different with Jack and Taylor and I also, and it was great to be part of that record in that way. (transcript from @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes)

The Great War and Hits Different: between April-October 2021 (Speculation)

In the above quote talking about his songs on Midnights, Aaron says "Eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different," implying his stuff was written before the bulk of midnights in fall. He also says High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've "[go] back that far," which implies they were some of the earliest stuff on Midnights, so it's safe to assume TGW and Hits Different come sometime afterwards.

Summer 2021: Jack has a session with Sounwave, Sam Dew, and Zoe Kravitz, where the instrumentals for Lavender Haze and likely Glitch are written

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: Before Antonoff began to work on Swift’s tenth album, he was cooking up tracks with Spears, Dew, and Zoë Kravitz [...] During a brainstorming session, the quartet put together a track that would eventually become “Lavender Haze.”

November 3 2021: It was announced that Joe has been cast in Stars at Noon, alongside Margaret Qualley, Jack Antonoff's then girlfriend now wife. Since Joe was parachuted into the film last minute, filming had already started, making it likely he left as soon as possible.

Taylor: We’d been toying with ideas and had written a few things we loved, but Midnights actually really coalesced and flowed out of us when our partners (both actors) did a film together in Panama. Jack and I found ourselves back in New York, alone, recording every night, staying up late and exploring old memories and midnights past.

November 8: Jack gets back from touring with Bleachers. Let the games begin.

Vigilante Shit: November 2021 (Speculation)

Vigilante Shit is the sole solo writing credit on the album, which implies it was written before her and Jack were holed up together 24/7. Also Scooter and his wife divorced in July. Beyond that there's no evidence this is early in the process, besides it making sense that Taylor wrote this alone, brought it to Jack, and then fell into a creative inferno.

Maroon, Anti-Hero, You're on Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Bejeweled, Labyrinth, Mastermind, Paris, and Dear Reader: November/December 2021 (Inferring)

I don't have enough info on the making of any of these songs to give them each their own little blurb, but if anything pops up I will update this post and reblog it letting y’all know.

Question..?: After November 21, 2021 (Inferring)

We know Rachel Antonoff, Dylan O'Brien, and Austin Swift were there the day they recorded it thanks to this behind the scenes footage of them recording the cheering vocals. Dylan was filming The Vanishings at Caddo Lake in Louisiana sometime between October 5 and November 20. I don't know exactly which dates he was filming-- he was in New York for All Too Well filming in late October and to attend the premiere on November 12, but since we know for sure he was in Louisiana on the 20th, I'm just gonna Occam's Razor it and say Question was written sometime after he got back from that.

You're Losing Me: December 5, 2021 (Confirmed)

December 17, 2021: Filming wraps on Stars at Noon, and with it the bulk of recording for Midnights.

Lavender Haze: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Lavender Haze, Snow on the Beach, and Karma are the only songs to have Henson Recording Studios credited (I can't find studio credits for the 3am tracks so there is possibly more on there). This could point to them all being recorded around the same time time, or it could be in reference to Jack and Sounwave's original recording sessions taking place at Hensen. I lean towards the former, since 1) it seems like the Winter 2021 sessions were mostly between Taylor and Jack, and the spring sessions have other collaborators, and 2) the tabloid rumors about Taylor and Joe getting engaged really started heating up in February 2022. On the other hand, Sounwave implies that there was a notable stretch of time between Lavender Haze and Karma, so I totally understand if you want to put it with the rest of the Winter 2021 sessions. Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: A few months [after Jack and Sounwave wrote the instrumentals], Antonoff reached out to Spears, Dew, and Kravitz to see if he could pitch [Lavender Haze] to Swift, who loved it immediately. She wrote lyrics inspired by a Mad Men scene, numerous tabloid rumors and online gossip about her relationship status, and “1950s expectations.” “When Jack brought us in the hear for the first time, all our mouths dropped. She took it to a whole new world and made it her own. She created different pockets we did not hear.”

Glitch: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: "Glitch,” one of the bonus songs on the Midnights (3am) edition, was born from the same studio session as “Lavender Haze.” I don't know if this means the instrumentals to Lavender Haze and Glitch were done in the same session, Taylor wrote the lyrics in the same session, or both. For the same reason as Lavender Haze, I lean towards this coming later in the process, as well as Glitch mentioning being together for six years, and in November 2021 Taylor and Joe had been together for a little over 5 years. That being said, Taylor could've assume the album was going to come out in 2022, and that she would stay with Joe until then, and bump up that date a bit. It's still very up in the air.

February 5, 2022: Taylor is photographed leaving Jack's house holding a keyboard.

Sweet Nothing: Spring 2022 (Inferring)

Joe is a co-write on this, meaning they likely wrote it after he got back from filming. It also mentions their trip to Ireland in 2021 and refers to it as "last July", implying it was written in 2022. While I was writing this timeline Taylor liked this post on twitter, implying that at least the second verse is in reference to Paul and Linda McCartney. The quote is from his poem Blessed, which you can read in this interview (TWs for death and cancer)

Bigger Than The Whole Sky: March 2022 (Inferring)

Claire Winter, a close friend of Taylor's, posts on Instagram that she miscarried. (I toyed with whether or not to add this, but seeing as Claire Winter made the information public herself, I decided to put it in. If she ever takes that Instagram post down, let me know and I'll delete this part.)

Snow on the Beach: April 1, 2022 (Inferring)

On April 1, Lana Del Rey posts a video on Instagram of Jack in the studio with an unidentified female voice in the background. Two days later she posts this photo, which Taylor and Jack both include in posts about Midnights/Snow on the Beach. Lana: Well, first of all, I had no idea I was the only feature [on that song]. Had I known, I would have sung the entire second verse like she wanted. My job as a feature on a big artist’s album is to make sure I help add to the production of the song, so I was more focused on the production. She was very adamant that she wanted me to be on the album, and I really liked that song. I thought it was nice to be able to bridge that world, since Jack [Antonoff] and I work together and so do Jack and Taylor. Taylor: And with Snow On The Beach, which features the genius Lana Del Rey, very lucky to have collaborated with her on that. And Dylan [O’Brien] was actually in the studio with me and Jack, because a lot of the time we record at his place, and Dylan was just hanging out, drinking wine with us, and listening to stuff, and he was just trying out the drum kit there. He wasn't serious. But we were drinking wine, and we were sort of like, 'We haven't recorded the drums for this one yet! See if you want to...' and he played the drums on the song. Sometimes it just happens like that. (transcript once again from jaimie)

Karma: Spring 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: The bubbly “Karma” came later [than Lavender Haze and Glitch], when Antonoff reached out to Spears for any other ideas he may have to contribute to the album and its synth-pop vision. “‘Karma’ was just a last-minute Hail Mary,” Spears says. “I remembered I was working with my guy Keanu [Beats] and had something that was too perfect not to send to her. As soon as I sent it, Jack was instantly like ‘This is the one. Playing it for Taylor now. We’re going in on it.’ The next day, I heard the final product with her vocals on it.”

April 19, 2022: Elle's interview with the Conversations with Friends cast is released, and when Joe is "asked if he hopes to continue writing songs, Alwyn simply says, “It’s not a plan of mine, no.”" It's possible this means Sweet Nothing was yet to be written, but I think it's more likely Joe was just denying in order to not create hype around a song that wasn't officially announced yet.

May 2022: Taylor teases Labyrinth lyrics in her NYU Commencement Speech and says m i d n i g h t very prominently on this instagram post, meaning by early summer she was likely confident in the album's name and which songs would make the tracklist.

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#taylor swift #timeline* #wrote this one in a haze with frequent breaks to pace around cause i was shaking so much #so if theres a typo that’s why #as always lmk if you spot a mistake/want further sourcing on anything/etc #AHHHHHH!!!!!

[spaceman-earthgirl]

This made me laugh and I decided to make it supercorp.

---

Lena knocks, but doesn’t bother waiting for a response before she lets herself into Sam’s apartment. She makes a beeline straight for the couch, drops backwards onto it with an exasperated huff.

“Hello to you too,” Sam calls from somewhere Lena can’t see her. She appears at the end of the couch a moment later, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. “What happened?”

Lena sighs as she sits up, there are currently too many emotions running through her, she definitely needs a drink.

“Did the gym this evening not go well?” Sam prompts, concern furrowing her brow.

Lena takes a big sip from the glass Sam passes her before she speaks. “I had a plan, I was going to finally figure out her name,” Lena starts.

Six months. Six months Lena has been working out with the same girl at the gym and she still doesn’t know her name. At the beginning it hadn’t mattered, she hadn’t even realised she didn’t know her name until Sam had asked her and Lena had realised she didn’t know. She’d just been calling her ‘gym girl’, a name that’s stuck around for months as her efforts to figure out the girl’s name have failed.

It started with asking for her number so they could plan their workouts, but the girl had added her name as “Gym Buddy” to her phone, a little emoji of an arm flexing its bicep beside it.

Her next attempt was to ask for her Instagram, which worked, in a sense. She found the girl’s Instagram account, and she may have spent way too long scrolling through it because her gym buddy is hot. Like insanely hot. Like she gets distracted when working out sometimes because the girl really is the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. But that’s not the point right now, the point is that the girl’s name all over her social media is ‘Supergirl’ and that really doesn’t help her issue.

Lena had even managed to get her email address, and still, it gave away no clues.

And now it’s been six months and she just wants to know her name, wants to know the name of the person she has the world’s biggest crush on.

They text all the time, talk on the phone even more than she does with Sam, she sees her most days of the week at the gym and still, no name. At this point, it’s just getting ridiculous that she doesn’t know, and she’s definitely way too far in it now to ask, especially after what happened earlier.

“You know you could just ask her, right?” Sam says.

It’s a common suggestion from Sam, one she’s never going to take. She’s in too deep now, it’s been too long, she doesn’t want her friend to find out she doesn’t even know her name.

She’d thought about asking someone else, the girl is well known around the gym, her sister the owner, but she didn’t want it getting back to her that she didn’t know her name. Everyone just calls her “Sunny D”. Lena’s not even sure if that’s a reference to her first or last name. It’s definitely a reference to the girl’s personality, she lights up any room she’s in.

But that’s where today’s issue comes in. “I did, sort of.”

Sam sits up straighter, suddenly looking more interested in the conversation. “Wait, what? Did you figure out her name?”

“No,” Lena groans.

“Then I’m confused.”

Lena’s hands reach up to cover her face, so her next words are muffled. “I asked someone else to talk to her, and it did not go as planned.”

“I could’ve told you that wouldn’t work.” Lena can hear that Sam is trying not to laugh, and she drops her hands to glare at her best friend. “Okay, sorry. Tell me what happened.”

“There was a girl at the gym,” Lena says, starting from the beginning. “Someone I didn’t recognise.” She spends a lot of her free time at the gym now, she recognises all the regulars. “So, I started talking to her, her name is Nia, she was really sweet. Anyway, gym girl was across the room and I asked Nia if she could do me a favour and go and ask what her name is.”

“That doesn’t sound as easy as just asking gym girl yourself but I’m assuming she didn’t do it. What, was Nia interested in you, or something?“ Sam’s eyes widen. “Oh no, don’t tell me you inadvertently set the two of them up?”

“No.” God, she hadn’t even thought of that happening. The outcome she got was much more embarrassing, even if it went far differently, and entirely better than she thought it would. “Nia thought I was interested in gym girl, and that’s how she phrased it when asking for her name.”

Sam’s trying not to laugh again. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

Her cheeks burn now, just as they did at the time. She can still see clearly in her mind, the way Nia had smiled and pointed in her direction. She couldn’t hear what they said but she saw the confusion on gym girl’s face morph into a brilliant smile before she made her way across the gym to Lena.

“I heard you think I’m cute.”

Lena definitely hadn’t said that to Nia, and she’d been about to try and smooth over whatever damage Nia had done, before gym girl’s next words had nearly made her fall over with the surprise of it.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Sam sobers. “Are you okay? I know how much you like her.”

Lena swallows, her frown breaking into a smile for the first time since she arrived. “I’m kind of great, actually?”

Sam frowns, clearly trying to puzzle together the sudden shift in Lena’s mood. “What?”

“I…” Lena can’t stop smiling now, it still hasn’t quite sunk in. “After talking to Nia, gym girl asked me out.”

Sam bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s great! Not where I expected this story to go but good for you.”

Lena laughs too, except she still has one problem. “I have a date with gym girl tomorrow night, but I still don’t know her fucking name.”

(She figures out Kara’s name on their first date, completely by chance because Kara booked the table reservation under her name.

It’s definitely more than just a crush because after Kara walks her home, right when she’s pretty sure Kara is about to kiss her goodnight, Lena admits the truth, admits why Nia spoke to her, admits that she’s spent months trying to figure out her name and only just discovered it tonight.

Kara thinks it’s incredibly funny and can’t believe Lena didn’t just ask her herself. But they both agree that it worked out well since it got them a date.

And then Kara does kiss her, and Lena forgets her own name).

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #sam arias #i don't know what this is

[ivysoul]

i know i have so many requests that i have to get to but i wanted to write something for ethan landry bc he’s my lil psycho pookie bear

cw for reader being just as fucked up as ethan, quinn, and bailey lmfao

the fear that encapsulated the old theatre was strong. it floated around like the dust that fell upon the old furnishings, flooding into the veins of anyone near enough to sense it. the two dark figures in the ghostface masks standing on either side of detective bailey should’ve scared you. they should have—but they didn’t. because you knew them.

they were the family you had been all too well acquainted with. the family you had spent many nights with playing board games and watching movies. they were the family of your boyfriend, ethan bailey—better known now as landry.

you knew about their plans to kill sam to avenge richie, you had even helped them at some points. making sure the group was in the right place at the right time, suggesting ideas on what to do next knowing that they were all ideas to aid in the killings, even going as far as impersonating ghostface yourself while bailey eliminated jason and his partner before they could get to sam themselves.

you loved them like they were your family, because that’s exactly how it was. when you and ethan started dating, you were welcomed with open arms. and ever since, you’ve been inseparable. with not only him, but his family.

all of this only made ethan’s infinite love for you grow, and yours in return. which was why you weren’t scared, surprised, nor turned away when he took off his mask.

his tone was taunting as he said, “y’know, it’s kinda funny. you don’t even need to pretend you’re not ghostface. you just have to be an accomplice.”

“what are you talking about?” sam asked sharply, eyes going back and forth between the family of murderers in front of her. she grabbed tara’s arm subconsciously and tugged her closer to her side. you however, were counting the seconds until you could walk up to ethan and watch the girl’s faces when they realized.

quinn laughed airily and rolled her eyes. “you were too focused on who could’ve been the murderer, that you didn’t even care to ask who could’ve been working with them.”

“never trust the new ones, right?”

the words left your lips smoothly, laced with venom. you didn’t take your eyes off of your boyfriend as you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, reaching up to place a passionate kiss on his lips. his free arm wrapped around your back and squeezed your waist.

it was such a dirty thing; love. a feeling that would drive you somewhere you never thought you’d go.

you pulled away only to look at tara and sam, gaining a new tint of satisfaction against your ribcage. a sick a part of you wanted to take a picture and hang it on your bedroom wall when this was all over. but you figured that the real thing was better than a photograph.

you looked back up at ethan, gingerly placing your thumb on his jaw. your featherlight touch had him looking at you immediately with a smile that was only saved for you.

“did i do good, e?”

he kissed your lips once more, gently, and full of love, not once taking into account the scene at hand. “perfect, baby.”

#this was so corny bye #and bad too good lord #i’m very much prepared for this to flop horribly #anyway #ethan landry #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #scream #scream 6 #scream 2023 #saintlulls

[lvrcpid]

𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧 - 𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙮

paring: ethanxfem!reader.

warnings: implication of murder. blood. ethan being the worst best person on the planet. manipulation. character death. spoilers!!

listen: smooth operator by sade

notes: your honor he’s innocent!!

‘congratulations you’ve been accepted to blackmore university’. the letter in your hand reads. you couldn’t help but smile a bit. you were finally getting out of woodsboro. you wanted nothing to do with this hell hole anymore.

being almost brutally murdered by one of your closest friends was definitely not on your bucket list. but hey you couldn’t complain, at least you made it out alive.

similar to tara, you didn’t really like to acknowledge what happened to you back home. you wanted to forget about everything. but the feeling you were being watched never left you.

for weeks on end after, you suffered from panic attacks. you refused to be alone, afraid that phone would ring and in one clean sweep, your life would be over. you’d be damned if you faced the same fate as your foes.

you moved into your apartment with tara and sam, along with your roommate quinn, on campus not long after that, mindy and chad also attending the same school. you were glad your friends were there not only just for you, but for each other. you all had been through a lot together, instantly turning you all from a group, into a family.

you were sat in tara’s room as she hung her clothes in her closet, the comfortable silence filling the air as you spoke “do you think it’s over?” tara didn’t say anything as she stopped what she was doing, gripping onto the shirt in her hand. she just sighed and looked at you, shrugging and moving to sit down next to you. “that’s behind us and you know it..” she tried her hardest to empathize with you but tara hated living in the past of what happened to you all.

you couldn’t help but disagree, the fact you did showed in your expression. while she was right, you didn’t like the fact your friend was so okay with pushing down what happened to her. you cut the conversation short , not wanting to egg her on, squeezing her into a hug and sighing. “we’re safe now, we can live our lives normally.”

but oh were you so wrong.

you met ethan shortly after you moved to new york. you were walking to your debate ethics class when you bumped into someone, quickly pulling your headphone off to apologize.

‘oh im sorry-‘ ‘no it’s okay im sorry!’ you turned to meet the person you bumped into. you were met with a boy slightly taller than you, fluffy hair and the cutest face. ‘i-i’m ethan! sorry about that..i should’ve watched where i was going..’ his face turned red as he scratched the back of his head.

you found the boy cute. he reminded you of a puppy. you couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. ‘no really it’s okay, it was my fault. i’m (y/n)’ you held your hand out, watching as he hesitantly shook it.

ew. his palms were sweaty. but aw, he was nervous.

from that point on you and ethan became inseparable. you both constantly went out to movies and cafes. he even came over for study time at your apartment! you really liked ethan and all of your friends could tell he really liked you too.

it was a random night in october, the wind was chilly and the leaves scraped across the ground like nails on a chalk board. sam and tara were out shopping and quinn was over at some boys dorm. you seriously couldn’t keep up with that girl.

your roommates absences left you alone in the apartment. that same feeling of being watched crept up on you slowly as the wind blew more and more through the open window in the living room.

you sucked your teeth as you pushed yourself from the couch, going to shut the window. as you looked outside you swore you could’ve seen the frame of a black cloak disappear into the distance. your blood ran cold as you just shut the window and locked it. “nope nope nope fuck that-“ *RING RING RING* your phone rang, vibrating on the table.

shit. you stalked over to the table where your phone sat, your heart practically beating out of your chest. you knew better than to answer the phone, so you just let it ring, not even going to check who it was. you didn’t even want to know.

you sighed as the ringing stopped, just for it to pick up once more. you mumbled slightly before picking up the phone, seeing it was richies contact. how is that even possible? richie died. you just held the phone to your ear as you spoke, “hello?” “hello (y/n)..miss me?” you could’ve passed out right then and there. that same voice that tormented you and your friends for days was back. you just stomped to the knife block as you spoke once more.

“i fucked you up once , im not afraid to do it again..” you grabbed the largest knife you could, power walking your way through the apartment. “relax sweet thing..i’m not at your place..i just wanna..talk..” you just rolled your eyes at the name and gripped your phone tightly in your hand. “listen you sick piece of shit, leave me and my friends alone or else i’ll-“ “or else you’ll what? kill me and run away like a coward?! now shut up and listen.” you went silent, not really believing his words about not being in your apartment.

“you know you’re really pretty right..? i’m always watching you..always..” the voice calls, chuckling and sighing as you were horrified. your theory was correct. “god what i wouldn’t give to see you scream for me” you could hear that asshole smirk over the phone. you just scoffed and gripped the knife tighter, making your way through your apartment for the second time, really making sure he wasn’t playing tricks on you. “who the hell even are you..” you asked, pushing open a door and making your way through it.

“ah ah ah- we’ll save that for our next conversation..until then pretty girl..also..chilly night we’re having isn’t it?” then the line went dead. you quickly moved to call sam, shakily dialing her number as you paced the floor, biting your thumb as you tried your best not to cry.

when the sisters bursted into the door, you immediately broke down in tears, crying into sam’s shoulder as she brought you into a hug. you looked to tara as she gave you a sad, worried, almost terrified look. “tara..ignore everything i said..”

this isn’t over.

the next day you were on edge, hesitant to even step foot out of your dorm. you laid in bed , staring at your ceiling fan as it spun around, trying to distract yourself from what happened the previous night.

the only noise that can be heard was the sound of your fan and your jagged breathing. suddenly your phone rang, again. you quickly turned over to silence it, trying to forget that it’s even there. but seeing richies contact and picture pop up was enough to send chills down your spine.

you took a deep breath before answering the phone. “calling me in broad daylight? you’re getting bolder by the second” you spoke into the phone. “relax pretty girl, i just wanna talk to you” the raspy voice came back to you. you just huffed and rolled your eyes. “we aren’t leisurely friends. you’re actively trying to kill me and mine.”

“be happy i’m taking the time to speak to you instead of killing your friends one by one.”

you just huffed as you got out of bed. “what the hell do you even want?!” you’re growing frustrated. why is this killer talking to you like you both are friends. “i missed hearing your voice beautiful. it’s not often i come across a girl as pretty as you. it makes me wanna hurt you even more”

you turned your face up in disgust. is this fucker really flirting with you right now. “are you fucking serious-“ “i’d also be careful about sam and all..i heard that serial killer stuff..runs in the family. who knows, maybe one day she’ll snap and kill you all.” the voice chuckles.

sam? never sam, she doesn’t want to be like her father. “sam would never-“ “don’t bank on it.” then the line went dead.

this went on for days. the same person calling, taunting you, feeding you information that seemed believable after a while.

maybe sam really was setting you up. maybe she really did want to kill you.

you found yourself finding comfort in a killer. even waiting and anticipating their calls.

you didn’t know if what you were feeling was right or utterly wrong. so you brought it up to ethan.

the boy was laying on your chest, as he always did when he came over to your dorm. you ran a hand through his hair as you spoke. “ethan can i trust you with something?”

the boy looked up at you and hummed in response. “is it bad that i’m attracted to a killer?” you expected the boy to have a greater reaction than the shrug he gave you. “i mean if you’re into that sort of thing-“ “ethan stop i’m serious” you sat up, looking at him.

“i genuinely think sam is out to get all of us, you included” the boy just sighed and pulled you into his arms. his reactions were concerning you. how was he so calm?

you looked up to ethan and noticed the look he was giving you. it sent chills down your spine. he looked like he wanted to strangle you. you scanned his face quickly before snapping your fingers in front of his face, breaking him out of whatever look he was giving you. “ethan..you okay?” you asked, looking at him. the boy just looks down and nods.

“mindy it’s strange- the killer is here he just hasn’t done anything-“ “woah woah woah run that back- you’ve been talking to the killer, the one who tried to murder ALL of us last year, he hasn’t attacked you- and you’ve grown fond of him? (y/n) what the hell” mindy crossed her arms, a disappointed look across her face. “i don’t know if it’s a him or her- mindy i don’t know okay! and ethan was acting really strange when i told him about it..”

mindy scrunched her face up as she looked at you. “ethan..he’s at the top of my list! i’ve always suspected he was the killer!”

“woah woah woah mindy, it can’t be ethan! ethan’s too sweet for all of that- plus-“ “remember what i said? never trust the love interest”

later that night anika was murdered. she fell from the ladder that stretches from across your apartment to sam’s boyfriends danny’s apartment.

and she was right. never trust the love interest.

you stood beside tara, your mouth dropping in pure horror as ethan revealed himself as the second ghostface killer.

“ethan..” you breathed out, tears streaming down your cheeks.

ethan just gave you a look of fake sympathy before laughing. “god (y/n)! you made it so easy! for me” he pointed the knife in your direction. “a few phone calls, a bit of sweet talking and i had you wrapped around my finger! just like that!”

your swear your heart stopped. it was ethan this whole time. “no..no no no..” “yes..believe it pretty girl”

your world was spinning in two. the boy you were slowly falling in love with was a killer the whole time.

you didn’t have time to think before ethan charged at you with his knife, slicing a deep slash in your arm. you let out a loud scream as you quickly applied pressure to the wound, the thick metallic smell filling your nose. a smell you were familiar with.

you quickly ran away as ethan chased you down, somehow dodging his many attempts to stab you.

as you stood in front of him, near the brink of sobbing, blood coating your arm and hand, you asked; “why- i thought you liked me-“ “liked you?! no no no pretty girl. you got it all wrong..i never liked you..i liked the idea of you. guess you can say i played the part well. the sweet boy next door. the lover you can cry to? god you’re so pathetic” ethan just laughs.

you felt your heart breaking into two as he continued

“falling for a killer over the phone! who knew it would be so easy..gaining your trust so easy..making you doubt sam- it’s perfect” ethan lunged at you, tackling you down to the floor, easily taking you down and raising his knife above your heart. “it’s a shame i gotta kill you, because you’re so pretty” ethan grinned, moving to lower the knife but stopping.

you watched as blood began to pool at his mouth, his body shaking like a leaf as he dropped the knife, his body falling over yours.

holy shit. ethan landry was dead.

you quickly pushed him off of you and scurried away, looking to see who was behind him.

it was sam, her fathers knife in her hand. you blinked at sam as she stalked towards you, knife still in her hand. maybe this really was the end. you were surprised to see her hand extended towards you, a small smile on her face.

okay so sam didn’t wanna kill you. fantastic.

you walked out with sam to meet tara. you looked to the side to see detective bailey, dead. that was new.

you cringed at the sight before sitting down next to them, your body aching.

“so it was ethan the whole time huh?” tara turned to you. you just nodded and leaned back. “yeah..he sure knew how to sweet talk a girl.”

the three of you just laughed, pushing yourselves up and leaving the theater, the light from outside was almost blinding.

your brain flashed back to that night in the apartment. it was ethan the whole time. he murdered anika, and tried to kill you too. sick bastard shook her to her death. why kick a girl when she’s already down? the image of her bloody body hitting the cold, hard ground still engraved in your mind.

you just squinted as you let out a sad sigh. never would you have guessed it was ethan behind this. never in a million years. but once again luck was on your side.

you made it out alive.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry scream #ethan landry scream vi #scream vi #scream x reader #scream #jack champion #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (6)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (5)

“Mommy! Mommy!” Your son is out of breath when he runs into your living room. Look what I found!”

He lifts his arms to show you what he’s holding in his hands. Your eyes widen at the sight of the biggest toad you ever saw.

“Oh my God!” You scream, and backpaddle. Michael Joseph proudly grins at you. He tells you he’s going to name him Toadie Mc Toad. “You won’t keep that thing!”

“I like him,” he pouts. “He’s cute. Please let me keep him.” Your son sniffles now. “Please! Please! I’ll take good care of him and feed my new friend daily.”

You sigh. “Michael, we don’t have a place for Toadie to live. The little toad needs more than food. We want him to be happy.”

“But…mommy,” your argument gets interrupted when someone harshly knocks at your door. You hear a commotion and someone muttering incoherent words.

“This is not over,” you point at the toad in your son’s hands. “Don’t drop the poor thing. We don’t need Toadie to walk around the house to scare me.”

“He won’t do such a thing—” Your son pouts and whines. The knocking gets louder, distracting you long enough for your son to kiss the toad.

“Michael! Stop kissing the toad,” you grumble while walking out of the living room. “Coming!” You call for whoever is hammering against your door. “Just a minute.”

Your son follows you hot on your heels. He won’t stop pleading. Michael wants to keep the toad and he’ll do anything to keep the poor creature.

“Wait here, Michael. We will talk about the toad in a minute. Let me answer the door first.”

You look at your son, giving him a stern look as he sits down on the floor to talk to the toad he found in the small garden behind your house.

“Just a minute,” you run your hand over his head. “I’ll be right there, and we can talk about the toad.

Your son nods and turns his attention back toward the toad. You sigh and walk toward the front door. It’s not the best day for an unexpected visitor.

“Hello, what can I do—” your voice fails seeing Dean and his brother stand in front of your door. Sam gives you an apologetic smile and murmurs your name while his brother is less apologetic.

“Hi,” Sam says before Dean can start messing things up. “I know this is sudden, and you didn’t expect us, but Dean couldn’t wait any longer."

“What do you want here, Dean?” You hiss his name. “The deal is sealed. You have no reason to come here and invade my privacy and home!”

“I didn’t invade your home,” Dean bites back. “If you would've told me that I got a kid this reunion could’ve been much more harmonic.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Winchester.” You huff. “Now get off my lawn.”

“I won’t leave,” he takes one step closer to you. “I got a kid, and I want to get to know him! You’ve got no right to keep my child from me.”

“He’s my son,” you snap at Dean. “I was the one watching his first steps. I was the one raising him without any help. You’ve got no damn right to come here and demand to see my son.”

“Our son,” Dean raises his voice. “You can’t keep my son away from me?” He sniffs. “Not after I just found out that I’m a father.”

“You’re not a father,” you hiss. “A father would've never left the woman he asked to marry him for his ex or let his mother walk all over me. You made your decision that night, and I made mine on my way to London. Now get out of my sight.”

Sam tries to calm you both. “Y/N, how about you let us in, and we don’t discuss this out here, for everyone to hear.”

“I won’t let you brother inside my home where my son is,” you glare at Sam. He means well, you know that, but you cannot risk letting Dean inside your home. “You will stay out of my house, Winchester!”

“Winchester?” Your son shoves you out of his way to look at Sam and Dean. “You must be DEAN!” He squeals and grins. Your son holds up the toad, telling them to have a look at his new friend. “I found him in the garden!”

“Uh-that’s very cool bud,” Sam says. He crouches down to look at the toad. “I’m not Dean, but his brother Sam.”

Michael jerks his head toward Dean to look your ex-fiancé up and down.

“You look much cooler, Mr. Dean. I like your hair better and you’ve got that cool car.” Your son hums while staring at the car in Dean’s hands for a moment. “Cool.” He pushes the toad in Sam’s hands, ignoring that the tall man scrunches up his nose.

“What?” Sam looks at the toad in his hands. “What do I do with the toad?”

You whimper when your son grabs Dean’s hand. He grins and tells Dean to follow him inside. “I got a cool Impala too, Mr. Dean. I’m going to show it to you.”

“Dean, no,” you can only step aside because your son drags Dean toward the door. He brushes past you, not even sparing you a glance while talking about his favorite car.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam gets back up, still the toad in his hands. “I told him to call or give you the chance to explain things to him before barging into your home. Dean always was a little…”

“Annoying, impulsive, unreliable,” you huff, and cross your arms over your chest. You take several deep breaths and try to calm down to not yell in front of your son. “I can’t believe he just came here, demanding to see my son after he let me down.”

“Y/N, it’s a little more complicated. Maybe we can go inside too,” Sam offers a weak smile. “Dean was an idiot back then, but it wasn’t his fault alone.”

“He comes here, blaming me for not telling him about my son! I gave him a choice and left a message. I wrote that it’s not only the two of us any longer. Did I have to spell it out for him?” You are beyond angry and yell at the wrong brother. “Dean is many things, but not dull.”

"Y/N, he's a man on a mission. He wants to get to know his son."

“He can’t come here and call himself father! Dean is not my son’s father!” You twirl around to storm inside your house. If you must, you’ll drag Dean out of your home.

“That escalated quickly,” Sam runs one hand down his face. He sighs deeply as he walks inside your home, silently closing the door. Sam only hopes you won’t fight in front of your son. “I guess it’s on me to help these two find a way to talk things out without killing each other...”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #au dean winchester #Designed by pain (6)

[binxiboo]

The Frenchier Mistake

(aka Dean meets his celebrity crush: Actress!Reader)

Supernatural Masterlist // Full Masterlist

A/N: @princessmermaid1289 you'll never guess what I've only gone and done... I finished it! (we'll ignore it being well over a year later)

Actress!Reader x Sam and Dean

Clatters fill the bunker as all sorts of equipment and tools get dropped on the closest surface to the bottom of the staircase. Both Winchester brothers are incredibly over this last hunt. They were meant to be home days ago, thinking that they’d killed a whole nest of vamps; turns out these vampires were the vengeful kind, and when they found out that their friends had been savaged… well they didn’t take it lightly. It didn’t take them long to find the ’67 Chevy Impala on its route back to the bunker.

The respective hallways echo with heavy footsteps as the tire brothers silently bid each other goodnight before slinking behind their bedroom doors, each leaning their weight against them, unknowingly synchronised across rooms. It’s a miracle either of them even got their clothes off before collapsing into bed, finally getting a comfortable night’s rest they’d not had all week.

The two had a shock, however, when they were awoken by… clapping? Sam and Dean both shoot up in their beds, instantly trying to place what could be happening in their heads. As they’re processing the information around them, they begin to realise that the beds beneath them no longer feel like the comfortable ones they fell asleep in the night before. Hell, they’d had nicer motel beds than these. What are they? Solid wood? Dean runs his hand alongside his leg, pushing down on the barely-there mattress. Well, there’s some cushioning at least.

“That was a good one, guys!”

“Yeah, I think that’s us done for the night.”

The bodies in front of them slowly filtered out of the room while the two men made their way out of the prop beds. At a certain point, the wall separating their apparently-not-a-room ‘rooms’ ended, and the two brothers found themselves side by side. They turn to look at each other, then around what they’ve now realised is a tv set.

“Sammy?”

“Dean.”

“Tell me it’s not happened again.”

Sam swallows, hard. The lack of verbal response has Dean running a hand over his face. The next few moments are spent considering what actions may have led them to being stuck in this universe again. Several things get ruled out. They haven’t pissed off anyone with the ability to transport them across universe lately. Neither of them was messing with magic, or any practices to be clear, that could’ve gone wrong like this. It isn’t a dream that they’ve both ended up conscious in. There’s no way for anything to be an imminent threat. It is at this conclusion that Dean gets the best idea he thinks he has ever had in his life.

He's going to go flirt with some babes.

Dean quickly locates the door everyone had walked out of previously and practically drags his brother through it. Sam doesn’t quite process that he’s moving until his head almost hits the door frame on his way out of the building and his face screws up as he processes the information.

By the time Sam has gotten out of his own head Dean has already surveyed half the studios surrounding their own. As soon as a question begins forming on his tongue, Sam is pulled in another direction by Dean’s, arguably tight, grip on his forearm. Dean is on a mission as he glances around at the postered walls of each building. Honestly, Sam doesn’t understand how Dean even knows what he’s seen with how short the glances are. The sniffer dog act ends abruptly though when Dean receives all power of the moose that is his brother slam straight into his back, eliciting a grunt from the older, shorter brother.

“Not my fault you don’t come with brake lights.” Sam says with a shrug in response to Dean’s glare. “Why’d you stop so suddenly anyway?”

Dean simply turns around and gestures at the poster on the building directly in front of them. Sam, confused once more, delivers an expression to encourage elaboration.

“Dean, am I supposed to know what this is?”

“It’s a TV show. With doctors in it. Very dramatic. Heavy stuff.”

“And that’s supposed to help me how… oh. Is this that med show we got stuck in before?” An air of exasperation arrives by the end of Sam’s sentence.

Dean purses his lips and keeps his face hidden from Sam. He tries to tell himself that there’s nothing embarrassing about watching what is, frankly, just good television.

“Yeah, well… there’s… hot chicks.” Sure, that was convincing enough, Dean decides.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam follows Dean in through a door, slipping behind the few crew members who have just exited through it. They stick to the shadows, Dean, not so gently dragging Sam into the darkness with him, determined to sleuth out the space rather than risk immediate expulsion. Once, deemed safe, Dean slinks forward, attempting to contain his inner nerd, but ultimately coming to a halt as he ends up turns to face with someone he could never have prepared for.

The older Winchester’s eyes widen, pupils absolutely dilating – in fact, if this was the Scooby Doo crossover, there’d be audible ‘AWOOGA’s filling the silence. Dean Winchester has been infatuated with this actress since she began her role, how could he not? She’s inarguably the most attractive woman going, the amount on unsavoury concepts his filthy man brain has conjured up over the seasons… well, they’re better off inside his head, he thinks. A mental note recorded to not let any of them slip.

It has him in shock that she’s somehow existing in this universe. He’s in even more shock when he realises that it’s taken him ending up in another dimension to be in her presence, he was sure that he’d have to somehow get himself to that fan convention a few states over without Sam finding out, and yet, she’s here. They’re both there. A loud yell to cut triggers him to collect himself.

She sighs, walking out of the set, towards the snack table- towards him. He goes to inhale deeply, to settle his excitement before making a fool of himself, but she speaks before he can.

“Jensen? Jared?” there’s a lilt of interest in her voice, even excitement on her part.

Dean does a double take. She knows him. No. She knows Jensen. Well, that solidifies the theory that this is the same universe from before. Jensen. He can work with that.

“Hi.” He responds, his best charming smile sliding onto his face paired with a small wave of his hand. It encourages her to come closer, Dean internalises his celebration.

“Um, why-” her brow furrows, as she struggles to phrase a sentence, “You’re on my set? This- our set.”

“Yeah...” Dean nods, processing how he can spin this, “Actually, I- we- we came to see you."

Her face flushes, eyes widening slightly before she catches herself. “O-oh. You did?”

Dean nods, smiling at her again. Sam offers her a slightly awkward, but still kind, smile as her eyes flick over to him.

“Well, I was going to head to a bar after this shoot.” There’s an air of confidence flooding through her words now, she looks back at her director for the evening. He looks exhausted as he talks to other crewmembers, shaking his head. He mutters something. Then there’s a loud statement, letting everyone know they can go home for the night, they’ll try to get the scene tomorrow.

“A bar, you said?” Dean can’t hide his smirk as he gains her attention again.

She nods, “Yep. I- actually, think you’ll love it.”

“Lead the way then, Doctor.” He adds a laugh to this, hoping it doesn’t make her cringe. It makes Sam cringe, which earns the taller Winchester a not-so-subtle smack to the stomach. She, thankfully, laughs. Man is it one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. He almost lets himself get lost in the sound before he remembers that this is not his universe, and that he’s not even himself here. He’s Jensen instead of Dean. On that topic, he considered whether anything indicated whether Jensen was in a relationship. He knows Sam has to act married; Jared having married ‘Fake Ruby’ and all that. 

The two follow the actress.

They end up a street away from the studio. The lighting is low, but warm, almost comforting. Dean decides to be the gentleman and get the first round in. He asks the lady what she wants to drink, then hands his wallet to Sam, telling him to get him ‘a beer- no! No, a whiskey’. The two leave Sam at the bar to situate themselves in a more secluded booth in the back of the bar.

“Let's play a game.”

Dean’s head shoots around to her, eyebrow quirked and lips slightly smirked, challenging.

“I’m thinking... two truths, one lie?” There’s a playful tone to her voice as her lips morph to match his smirk.

“Oh, absolutely. We’re going to need shots...” Dean leaves the table just as Sam returns, earning him a confused look from his younger brother, but continuing with his mission regardless.

Once the older brother returns to the chosen booth with a tray of pre-poured shots, Sam takes one look and decides he wants no part, taking his chance to work out how the hell to get home instead. Dean, however, eagerly sits across from his celebrity crush, rubbing his hands after placing the tray down gently enough not to spill any nectar.

“Who’s up first?” he asks with a smirk, taking a swig out of his whiskey glass, he looks up to be met with a matching expression on the actress’ face as she begins to speak.

“I only got to where I am because I have a godparent high up in the industry. I speak multiple languages, aaaaand… I’ve been approached for… naughty modelling.” She finishes with a wink.

Dean’s biology serves him no favours as he processes her last insinuation, shuffling to obscure himself better under the table as he chokes a little on his whiskey.

“Well- I- The last one has to be a truth, there’s no way you haven’t. I mean, look at you.” His words met with a modest blush on her cheeks as she laughs a little. “There’s no way you can speak another language, well maybe for a role, but not fluently, so I call bull. Then that leaves the last truth to be nepo baby.”

“Take a shot. Or two… do you want to do a shot per wrong answer?”

“What? No- how’d I get that wrong?!”

“I’m not a nepo baby, just… either extremely lucky or someone was trying to get in my pants. Like the photographer that wanted me to pose nude for him… when I lived in France and spoke the language every day. Because I speak French. Fluently.”

Dean’s jaw drops open, sighing before he shoots two glasses back without a word. Y/N giving an approving nod.

“Your turn.”

It’s safe to say… Dean sucks at two truths and a lie. Or at least he does when any truths he could say sound crazier than any lies, especially when he reminds himself that he needs to play along as Jensen. In fact, he gets so many wrong that the night begins to blur, her needing to collect the next tray of shots as he fails to coordinate his way to the bar. By the time Sam returns, Dean’s slumped over in the booth, words barely English as they slur, and then, darkness.

When Dean sees the world again, he’s back in the concrete confines of the bunker. His brain struggling to work overtime to get his bearings and put memories in chronological order. Through his bedroom door comes Sam, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Sammy- what- how’d we get home?” Dean’s voice comes out hoarse and gravelly as he speaks, rubbing his head.

“What do you mean? I drove.”

“Drove from… another universe?”

Sam laughs. “What?”

Dean’s face drops. “I- I- We were in that other place again- that- Ackles and Pada- Padalinski.”

Sam shakes his head, muttering to himself as he walks away, waiting until he’s around the corner before checking the photos remain on his phone. His brother blacked out the corner of the bar booth, his celeb crush posing next to him after covering his face with lipstick kisses.

#supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #deanwinchester #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester #supernatural #supernaturalxreader

[parkerflix]

— house of balloons

ethan landry x gn!reader (hint of chad x reader)

wc: 1.05k

warnings: huge spoiler warning for scream 6, blood, violence, descriptions of aforementioned blood & violence, angst(?), one sided affections

synopsis: the betrayal you had felt hurt almost as much as the wounds left. almost.

a/n: my first scream fic i literally have been thinking about this i just needed to word dump sorry if it’s a little messy i’m rusty

you weren’t sure how you had gotten it wrong.

clutching your right side, you hissed at the pain that came with applying the pressure on your wound.

your ears were still ringing from the shots fired, and you weren’t sure if kirby was alive or dead.

detective bailey was going some long tangent, ones just like you had seen in horror movies a thousand times before with him.

quinn was busy glaring at sam and tara, her pupils blown wide as if she had been doing something else.

“hey sweetheart, where’s your head at?”

you whipped your head around to look at him, the one who had lied to you and was trying to kill you.

ethan waved his knife at you, a smile growing on his face once he realized you had snapped out of your daze.

“can’t have you missing everything. i’m surprised you hadn’t figured it out before. it was so fucking simple, right in front of you the whole time! unless you’re too stupid to have even considered me a suspect! mindy was right to be concerned and suspicious about me. a shame she had to die really.”

“fuck you.”

a sharp blade quickly sliced your left arm, making you cry out in pain.

quinn had a satisfied smile, and pointed the knife directly towards you.

“don’t talk to him like that!”

“quinn you’re a fucking psycho whore!” tara shouted at her, pulling you closer to both her & sam.

“you call it whore, i call it sex positive. you’re going to die anyways you bitch so it doesn’t matter what you say.”

sam seemingly had enough of all three of them, and whacked quinn over the head with the brick, a crack being heard and her laying on the ground.

it quickly became chaos after that, sam and tara running and fighting off both detective bailey & quinn fairly easy. you had run back to the lobby, as fast as you possibly could with your injuries. you could feel yourself losing more & more blood, your vision getting significantly more spotted.

reaching chad, you kneeled down next to him, trying to find a pulse, a sign that he was still alive. he was your best friend, and you were unwilling to accept that he was dead.

you start shaking his arm, about to call out him name when you felt a blade stab your other side. you turned your head around when the knife was retracted from your side, only to see ethan standing over you.

your eyes grew wide, not registering what happened next.

ethan stabbed you once more in the same spot, twisting the knife kneeling in front of you.

“i cant believe you would still run to chad during all of this. i thought you were smarter than that. i never wanted to hurt you. i just wanted you to see that he was bad for you.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat at him, ethan twisting the knife even more with a grin when he saw you were struggling to breathe.

“it was obvious. in all the time we spent together, it was obvious that i’m in love with you. but you wouldn’t shut up about chad, and i figured with him out of the way, you would see i’m here for you. a shame that i was wrong about you. now i have to kill you.”

he pulled the knife out of your side, and threw you onto the ground. he came and straddled you, thighs pinning your waist in place. you looked around frantically, not wanting to just be at his will.

a concrete block was just in your reach, fingertips ghosting over the edge of the hole in it.

“you know, i really loved you. we could’ve made it work.”

ethan brought his arms up and was about to plunge the knife deep into your chest, when you swung the concrete block, slamming it into his head. the force you used knocked ethan off of you and onto the ground, making him drop the knife and lay there unmoving.

you had watched countless horror movies with ethan, always getting frustrated with the characters when they never bothered to make sure the killers were dead. you quickly rose to your knees, ignoring how blurry your vision was, and grabbed both the cinder block and the knife that had fell not far enough from ethan’s reach as you would like. you pocketed the knife, wanting it just in case.

you quickly straddled yourself on top of him, and swung the block towards his head with as much force as you could muster. you repeated it as much as you could, tears streaming down your face as you heard the cracking of his bones in his head.

after a few blows to his head, and his hair being matted with his blood, you grabbed the knife, leaned forward and with your last bit of energy, plunged the knife through ethan’s heart. you twisted it, a sob leaving your mouth as you never had wanted to be in this position again. you laid on top of ethan for a moment, sobs racking your entire body as you came to terms with what just happened.

you don’t know when you had blacked out, maybe the blood loss, maybe the adrenaline finally leaving your body, but when you came to, you thought you were dead.

opening your eyes, you quickly took a full scan of the room, not quite sure where you were.

looking to your right side, you saw your iv and heart monitor and everything clicked into place.

“hey.”

you turned your head to see chad in the same room as you, in his bed 10 feet away from you.

he waved at you, confusion riddling your face as you tried to remember what had happened.

“don’t frown like that, or else you’re going to get wrinkles.”

you rolled your eyes at him, before asking him the question that was waiting to come out.

“and the others?”

“they’re safe. we’re safe.”

as soon as he said those words, relief washed over you, and you felt yourself tearing up. somehow you had survived two sets of serial killers. you knew that maybe right now, you wouldn’t be fine, but you had hope that maybe you could be.

#paris writes #scream 6 #jack champion #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #jack champion x reader #chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader

[inbarfink]

Okay, so when it comes to “What Remains of Edith Finch” I’m generally among those who subscribe to the reading that there is nothing supernatural about the ‘family curse’ - that it is nothing more than an unhealthy coping mechanism that became a self-fulfilling prophecy through a tradition of neglect and recklessness also maybe some slew of undiagnosed hereditary mental illnesses. But one aspect of this interpretation that I’m not really on-board with it is the idea that this makes the ending of the game, like, a totally unambiguously ‘bad’ tragic ending.

Well, either way it’s always a pretty sad ending, y’know. Everyone is dead. I mean in the sense that, like, if the ‘curse’ is nothing but the stories of the Finch family making them think they’re cursed - then Edith writing her little book and passing on these stories to her son is just perpetuating the Curse and probably dooming the poor boy. They would’ve both probably been better off if Edith did let those dangerous stories die with her. Right?

Well, that’s not really how I see it. I don’t really think this is a narrative is about how Edie and her outlook on death is, like, 100% totally wrong and dangerous and Dawn Finch was 100% totally in the right about trying to escape the family stories - as much as it is about Edie and Dawn both being flawed women and neither really handled their grief perfectly. Since Edie’s attitude kinda dominated the family and Edith herself kinda used to side with her great-grandma over her mother, the story focuses more on her realizing that, y’know, Dawn’s perspective might have a point. But just cause Dawn might’ve had a point doesn’t mean she was always right either. I think the point is more that Edith has to understand both her great-grandma’s and her mother’s side so she can strike a healthier balance between both of their attitudes.

Like, the thing is that the ‘Curse’ is mostly just generational trauma (and if there is a real supernatural Curse than it is still a metaphor for generational trauma), and the thing with trauma is that wallowing in it and letting it define you like Edie did is really not healthy - but neither is repressing it and trying to run away from it like Dawn tried to do. Edie might’ve been wrong about many things, but she was right about this:

The ‘Curse’ won’t leave Dawn and Edith just cause they left the House, or just cause they stopped listening to Edie’s stories. Because the Curse and their Trauma are the same, so it will follow them in some form wherever they go. The big thing I keep thinking about is Edith’s comment after Sam’s story.

This isn’t about Sam’s death being especially important for figuring out the ‘mystery’ of the Finch Curse, or it being an especially fascinating or beautiful story or whatever. It’s because it was an especially traumatic event for Dawn, that undoubtedly effected her for the rest of her life. But due to her fear of the effects of Edie’s Stories, she never really opened up about it with her daughter in any way. Seeing the pictures of Dawn and Sam’s last trip together, Edith feels she now has a greater understanding of what made her mother tick - and wishes she could’ve known about it when she was still alive.

And that does go farther down the family tree. Sam was the first Finch to show a real dislike to telling the Stories like Edie like. Although admittedly he wasn’t quite the rebel Dawn was:

And pretty much everything about how he acted around his children, especially the real shitty stuff, was informed by the trauma of Calvin’s death. 

And, like, obviously Edie’s idea of handling trauma did no favors to him, (She made him share a room with his dead twin for eleven years) but I think also his attempts to almost totally avoid and repress his Issues when he became an adult only made things worse and not better.

Now, you might be wondering how this relates to Edith and her son Christopher. Well, the first thing to remember is that Edith didn’t know for sure she was going to die when she started that journey. She wasn’t just planning on leaving that little book to her son in case she dies - she wanted to learn the stories too, and have a better understanding of the stories she knew already. Because these stories inform the trauma she grew around, and she wanted to understand it better before she became a mother. Dawn knew quite a lot about the danger of growing up in a household that wallows in and romanticizes trauma - and did her best to avoid repeating this mistake with Edith. Edith knew quite a lot about the danger of growing up in a household that repressed and runs away from trauma - and she doesn’t want to repeat it with her child as well.

And as for writing it down for Christopher in case she’s not around to share the stories with him. Well, the first thing to note is that I think that even if Christopher never had Edith’s book - he was already bound by the ‘Curse’ from the start. Like, yeah, he doesn’t have the experience of growing up with a traumatized parent raised by another traumatized parent raised by another traumatized parent - but growing up knowing his biomom died at childbirth can be a pretty traumatizing experience on it’s own. We don’t know much of his family situation outside of that, but the fact that there seem to be no one around to escort the Literal Child as he takes a ferry to go lay flowers at his birth mother’s grave doesn’t really bode well.

So I think, first things first, from that angle, Edith’s journal could be importantly therapeutic to him as well. You know, have some sort of connection to his mother and her side of the family that he’s otherwise can’t really have? Like, this book isn’t just some darn list of dead Finches. There’s a lot in here about Edith herself and her own thoughts and her life and family and that’s maybe connection Christopher would want with her? Something that might make him process his grief for her a bit better? Something to make him feel more connected with that side of his family?

Now, let’s also consider the fact the Finch Curse is at least somewhat public knowledge: the Odin Finch newsreel mentions it, Barbara’s death was very well-publicized at the time - and the ‘Tales of Terror’ comic calls it “another ghastly tale inspired by America's most unfortunate family” - implying that they expected their readership to be at least kinda familiar with the idea of the Finches being ‘cursed’. I think that’s pretty likely that, even without the journal, if Christopher dug even a little bit into who his birth mother was he would’ve found at least a mention of a rumor of a ‘Family Curse’ .

Or, hell, seeing how the Finches (and especially Edie) seem to have been local celebrities around Orcas Island - if Christopher lives anywhere near that area, really all it will take is him saying something like “hey, I’m Christopher Finch!” or “my mother’s name was Edith Finch” and then someone would say “oh yeah, like the famous Orcas Island Finches? That cursed family that keeps dying?” and seeing how he has no living relatives on his mother’s side - he would’ve probably believed it, or at least allowed the possibility to wriggle into his heart - and then… well, the Curse will just live on regardless of Edith. 

Note that Christopher is already wearing a cast before he even read the book (and is, again, a child taking a ferry to visit his mother’s grave all alone) - it seems like something of the ol’ Finch recklessness has already made it to him, whatever it’s in his genes somehow or just the rumors of the curse getting to him. But it is not entirely on Edith’s journal.

And like, one of the things I think made the Curse such a problematic mindset is the way it prevented the Finches from ever learning from their mistakes. You know, if every death is a result of a malevolent supernatural force haunting the family - then there’s no need for introspection of how what they could do better in the future. Challenging this mindset was probably one of the best things about Dawn’s mindset. But learning from past mistakes is equally impossible when you convince yourself it’s all the fault of a supernatural curse as it is when you straight-up have no context for what happened before. If nothing else, the stories in this journal can serve as a useful lesson about not clinging to the past, or not letting your grief define you, or how you shouldn’t try and make a perfect 360 degree spin on swingset or how you SHOULDN’T LEAVE A BABY ALONE IN A BATHTUB JESUS CHRIST

Because it’s not like this journal is just, like, a totally uncritical reiteration of Edie Finch’s stories for the next generation or something. I think the game makes it pretty clear that although Edith Sr. and Edith Jr. are meant to mirror each other on some level, their attitudes when it comes to the stories of the family are pretty different. 

Edie was characterized as someone who cared more for what makes for a good story over the truth, as someone prone to inventing or exaggerating tales, as someone who reveled in the romanticism of being Doomed, and memorialized the death of her loved ones more than their life. Like, one of the things that really crosses a line for me about the Edie Finch Method of Grief is just how much the circumstances of the death are prioritized over the life the person had before it. 

It’s not always so blatant cause the Finches tend to die in ways that poetically tie with their personality and hobbies (Molly loved animals and fantasy and she spent her last moments in a hallucination of transforming into various animals, Sam loved hunting and photography and he died taking a picture while hunting, Walter loved trains and ended up being run over by one) but… there’s certain areas where it’s actually kinda unclear if the connection is actually there or if Edie is kinda forcing it for the sake of a good story. 

Like, Barbara was a horror movie child star and her death reads like a cheesy horror story - but that’s because Edie chose a cheesy horror retelling to represent it. Maybe if we knew the real story of how she died, it wouldn’t be quite so on-the-nose. Did Gus actually love flying kites to the point it defines his entire personality or was that just something he did on the day he died? Either way, he’s defined by that one activity forever now. 

And Gregory… like I’m sure he enjoyed bath-time, but the fact he’s memorialized almost exclusively with bath toys and soap is kinda fucked-up. I’m sure he had other toys he loved to play with outside the tub as well, but all of his memorials are focused entirely on the thing that killed him.

Edith’s attitude, as can be seen through the game, is different. Edith can appreciate the beauty of Edie’s stories but also cares quite a bit about truth and accuracy. The difference is most obvious when it comes to their books. Both Ediths wrote a story about coming back to their old childhood home and discovering the family secrets - only Edie’s story, “The History of the Finches”, seems to be complete fiction and based on what she would’ve wanted to be true, while Edith did actually go to her old childhood home and tried to record it as accurately as possible. And while she’s limited in telling the death stories that Edie kept records of, she also notes the points when they seem ridiculous or inaccurate to her. 

She documents the tall-tale about how Sven was killed by a dragon, but also clarifies that he was killed while trying to construct a dragon-shaped sled. Rather than just perpetuating Edie’s joke for the sake of the fantasy. 

Plus, she doesn’t just focus on the Finches’ deaths, she does try and tell Christopher about their lives as well. It’s not always easy, since with the older generations Edith often doesn’t have much to go on outside of Edith’s memorialization, but she does try to get a General Vibe out of them from their room and other mementos they left behind (like Sam’s improvised darkroom in the wall-passegeways) rather than just the death story. And when it comes to the people Edith actually remembered well herself - Lewis, Dawn and Edie - she’s constantly telling little anecdotes and details of their life together. 

In a way, I kinda divide “What Remains of Edith Finch” into three main parts. The first third of the game, with Edie’s kids, is the one that centers on the mystery of whatever the ‘curse’ is real or not - and is also a character study of Edie herself via the lense of the people that she lost. The second part is basically that but for Dawn, it’s about Edith learning to understand her mother’s character via the loss of Sam, Gregory, Gus, Sanjay and Milton. The Lewis segment is a transition between that third and the last third - which is about Edith Finch herself. Even if Edith can paint a full picture of both life and death for all of her dead relatives, she can at least give Christopher a good insight to his mother, grandmother and great-great grandmother. 

And notably, the two people Edith ‘has’ to memorialize herself without Edie’s postmorten involvement, Edie herself and Dawn, get a very different treatment from every other Finch. They don’t get a ‘proper’ Death Story documenting or describing their last moments. The closest thing is Edith’s flashback of the day they moved out of the House, which is more of a Death Flashback for the Finch Family as a concept than to Edie and Dawn as individuals. We do know that Dawn died of some sort of illness, but it’s delivered to us at the end of a longer passage about the life they had together. And we really don’t know anything but how Edie died at the end. 

If Edith doesn’t know how Edie died, she’s shown no interest in trying to figure it out - if she does already know, she doesn’t think her spesific cause of death is important to write down for her son. The important thing is for him to learn what kind of person Edie was in life, and Edith has more than enough understanding of her great-grandma to memorialize her without defining her entirely through some sort of of romanticized tragic death. 

And, like the most important thing to remember is that Edith questions the concept of the Curse in her journal. Like, the game and the journal are one and the same. So, like all of these passages that are important for the ‘there’s no supernatural curse’ interpetation:

Christopher is reading these lines as well. If we are capable of playing “What Remains of Edith Finch” and understanding the ‘Curse’ as being a self-fulfilling prophecy - then Christopher is also capable of reading his mother’s journal and coming to the same conclusion. I mean, it’s not a certain thing. There’s plenty of players who read the Curse as a real supernatural force and that’s also a valid interpetation of the game’s text. And there’s like, actual grown-ass adults who played this game and decided it’s actually about a serial-killer granny. So maybe it’s asking a bit too much from a little grieving eight-years-old to immediately understand this as a story of unhealthy trauma coping mechanisms through the generations. 

But my point isn’t that there is 100% no possibillity of Christopher dooming himself like every other Finch before him, or that Edith made the objectively correct decision in writing this journal and basically saved her son from the ‘Curse’. It’s just that he’s not doomed... it can still go either way. Christopher might have read this and started to believe in the Curse and perpatured the cycle onwards, or he might have come to the same conclusion Edith did - that believing in these stories made them real - and decided to try and do better than those who came before him. Or maybe he came to one conclusion but will later change his mind. As long as he’s alive, there’s is at least the possbility that things will turn out better. 

“What Remains of Edith Finch” ends with the shot of the two things that ‘remained’ of the two Edith Finches of the game. The House is What Remained of Edith ‘Edie’ Finch Sr. A glorious and sad monument of mourning, now forever frozen in time as a memorium for the tragedy of the Finch Family. And Christopher is What Remained of Edith Finch Jr. An actual living human being with his whole life ahead of him, who still has the potential to doom or save himself. 

Good luck.

#what remains of edith finch #edith finch #wroef #christopher finch #edie finch #dawn finch

[corpsebasil]

Love Me Harder

DONT TOUCH ME RN IM JUMPING AROUND THE ROOM

When Ethan accidentally hurts his girlfriend, his fear of hurting her again makes him push her away.

He’d cut you.

So shallowly it was practically a scratch, but you still slapped a hand over your arm as you stared, wide eyed, at Ghostface. You could’ve sworn he’d pulled back, had tried not to do it, when he jumped away from you almost as fast as you did from him. And then Tara was grabbing you, yanking you after them, even as it took Ghostface half a second to recover his senses and give chase.

You’d refused very adamantly to go across the ladder. You were the last one in line, shaking as you looked at the drop. Anika went before you, encouraged by Mindy and Sam to hurry the fuck up, and she’d just made it across to the window beyond when Ghostface burst into the room.

He took one look at you and paused; you were trembling, gripping the windowpane, your eyes glued to the long distance below. Your fear of heights was so bad you could hardly take an elevator, let alone crawl across a ladder to a window several feet away.

“I cant do it.” You wept, shaking your head as your friends screamed at you, urging you to come on. You turned, your panic rising as you saw Ghostface approaching slowly, your cries coming faster and more frantic. “I cant do it please don’t hurt me don’t—” Your scream was abruptly cut off when he passed you, moving to toss the ladder onto the ground below.

Effectively trapping you.

Tara was sobbing loudly as Mindy yelled out curses; you were sure Anika needed to go to the hospital. You were praying someone had called the police.

“Would you hurt a defenseless damsel in distress?” You asked, feeling hysterical as Ghostface turned his head, fixing that cold mask’s stare onto your shaking frame. You inched away, eyeing the bedroom door. “Wait look, what’s that!” He actually looked, turning, when you pointed behind him. Then you ran for it. “No!” You screeched as he tripped you, your body crashing down onto the carpet.

And just as you were sure you were going to die, all because you saw that scene from Nerve and didn’t feel like reenacting it, you heard shouting and cop sirens coming from downstairs and outside. You looked over your shoulder; Ghostface pointed his knife at you, as if in warning, and fled.

Now you sat on the edge of an ambulance, Tara’s hand laced with your own. Your tears had long since dried on your face but you still trembled. Anika had been rushed to the hospital, the police insisting the rest of you stay at the scene, but you’d been told it was uncertain if she’d live.

Mindy had torn into you over your resistance to cross the ladder, but, after seeing your haunted expression, had went on to thank you for letting Anika go first. If you’d have crossed and then froze, paralyzed by fear of falling, she would’ve been left to die.

“Y/N.” Tara whispered, giving your hand a squeeze. You looked up and saw Ethan, a concerned look on his face as he ducked under the crime tape and moved towards you.

Chad gave you a warning glance and moved off off of the ambulance; he was as protective of you as if you were his own sister and as you watched him grab your boyfriend and slam him against a car, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratitude at his protectiveness. But you still tensed up, rising a bit from your seat to help.

“Dude, I was in a study hall with a hundred other people. You can ask any of them.” Ethan was saying as you stood.

“Y/N, don’t.” Mindy warned, grabbing your hand as Tara shot you a surprised look. “He could be Ghostface. We can’t trust his ass.”

“I trust him.” You argued, pulling away from her and moving to Ethan. Chad shook his head at you, disapproving, even as you pushed past and wrapped your arms around the brunet boy.

“Oh my god.” Ethan gasped, seeing the bandage wrapped around your arm. He hugged you back, but hesitantly. You’d ignored the way he seemed to stiffen when you held him, but felt a twinge of hurt when he pulled away too quickly. “Who?” He asked, nodding towards the jumble of police officers.

“Quinn.” You said, sniffing, and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand. “And Anika got stabbed. She’s in the hospital—they don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“And you—” an odd look crossed his face as he took in the sight of your arm again.

“I’m fine.” You told him, eager for him to hold you again, but he didn’t. He seemed to take a step back, away from you, like he didn’t want you to touch him. “I couldn’t cross the ladder. He almost had me, E.”

“That’s—” he swallowed. “That sucks. Im sorry.”

“That sucks?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing as you looked at him. He was staring behind you, avoiding your eyes. You’d expected him to be upset; you’d almost died, and he didn’t even have the decency to look too unhappy about it? “Ethan what—”

“Come on, Y/N.” Tara called, but you only stared at Ethan, searching his face for any signs of grief or worry for your safety.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Your voice cracked and he finally looked at you, a frown pulling at his mouth. “Ethan?”

“I heard you.” He said simply and you felt like he’d punched you in the gut. You took a step away, your mouth trembling as he stared at you with a look of blankness.

“Y/N, come on. We’re going to check on Anika.” Tara called you again. The entire group was listening to this exchange. You felt mortified, and hurt, and slightly heartbroken. So you turned, trying not to cry as you climbed into the back of the ambulance, Tara immediately scooting in and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re at the top of my list.” You heard Mindy tell Ethan, but you didn’t look at him again, not until you heard Chad say something you couldn’t hear. You saw Ethan’s face grow pale, his eyes finding your own and, right before the doors of the ambulance shut behind the four of you, hurt and fear crossed his expression.

-

It had been days since he’d spoken to you.

The two of you hadn’t talked since the night at Tara’s apartment and you were growing more and more anxious by the day. You’d called him about a hundred times and, when you saw him at school, he dodged you. Your heart was breaking; you loved him, had thought he loved you, and he wouldn’t even speak to you.

So you found yourself at Chad’s dorm, knocking harshly against the door as you wiped the tears of frustration from your face. You didn’t know what to do—yell at him, break up with him, you didn’t know.

Chad opened the door, took in your expression, and shook his head.

“He uh, he can’t talk to you.”

“Why not?” You asked, pushing passed the boy and into the room. He grabbed your hand and, though you tugged, he was stronger than you.

“He’s in—I don’t know he’s been like catatonic the past few days. He says he doesn’t want to see you, I’m sorry.” When you stared, chest rising and falling at a rapid clip, he added, “maybe it’s for the best, Y/N.”

“Fuck that.” You snapped, wrenching your hand away, and moved to Ethan’s room. “You wanna explain what the fuck is going on?” You asked, opening his door and slamming it roughly behind you.

He was already standing, expression pained as you heaved for breath. Your heart was racing so fast you could barely think.

“Y/N, listen,” he started, in a calm tone that infuriated you. “it’s not your fault. I just think that maybe this isn’t working out and—”

“What? The day before we got attacked you said you loved me. You love me. And then all of a sudden, couple days later, and you just—don’t anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“No. You’re gonna tell me the real reason, E. It is because you’re afraid? Did me getting hurt freak you out so bad you’re pushing me away?” Then you paused, your breath hitching as tears began to slip down your cheeks. “Or did you lie? You—” You covered your mouth and turned away, unable to look at him.

“Y/N, please.” Ethan sighed, coming up behind you to touch your waist. He pressed his face against your shoulder as you cried, your body trembling as you fought the urge to sink back into his hold. “I didn’t lie. I love you.”

“Then why?” You breathed, turning to face him. His expression was the most agonized you’d ever seen it, and your stomach turned. “Why, Ethan?”

“I cant—” He shook his head once, twice. “I cant lose you. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Then stay with me. Be with me and we’ll stick together. Ghostface is dumb and we’re smart, remember? We can try and fight—”

“Please go.” He begged, resting his forehead onto your own. “This is hard for me. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, clasping his neck in your hands. Your fingers brushed against his hair as you looked at him, taking in the pained look on his face. “We’re a team? Aren’t we?”

He sniffed and nodded, allowing you to lean up and, as soft as you could, brush a kiss against his mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, holding you close to him. “I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay.” You told him, kissing him again, and allowed him tug you impossibly close, forgiving him with every inch of your being.

#she doesn’t even know his double meaning by sorry I hurt you #ethan landry #scream six #ethan landry angst #got me crying in the club #Jack champion

[stardewrotsession]

Note: So I know the ten heart event is when they technically confess, but I wanted to make this anyways. I’m not sure if this would count as a headcanon or as one shots, I kinda combined them. I’m sure I made some longer than others. Let me know what you think!

How the Bachelors/Bachelorettes confess to you.

Bachelors:

Sam

- Sam honestly wanted to confess to you for a long time now.

- The way you made him feel was nothing like anything else he's ever felt before.

- But, to him, your friendship was the most important thing to him than confessing. He thought he was much better off being friends with you than ruining whatever you two had.

- Honestly? He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if you two stopped talking because of him.

- So, he kept quiet for awhile.

- Well, as long as he could, anyways.

- You were hanging out with him near the river. Originally you just needed a specific type of fish, but after seeing Sam coming outside to you play his video game, you decided to talk with him.

- I think the moment he saw you, he put his game in his pocket and didn’t think to take it out for the rest of the night.

- He could’ve left it by the bushes and he wouldn’t have even noticed.

- All he really cared about was sitting by the river with you, talking and laughing about something he couldn’t even remember.

- But he was with you.

- And then he’d get a little too comfortable.

- “You know, it’s kinda weird how no one’s asked you out yet,” he commented while playing with the grass.

- “Me? No, I don’t think anyone here likes me, let alone like that,” you said dismissively while laughing.

- “You kidding?” Sam exclaimed. “Everyone loves you here. You’re a catch! Anyone would fall for you, I know I am. Don’t sell yourself short.”

- Oops. Guess it just slipped out.

- Of course he wouldn’t notice at first. When Sam talks, he just kinda… talks.

- “…What..?” You said, making sure you didn’t hear that wrong.

- “I said everyone loves you!” He repeated, oblivious. “Anyone would fall for you, I…”

- Oh. Oh.

- “Uh, well…”

- It was at this point that his face would turn bright red, embarrassed that he managed to say something so big, so serious, in such a casual way.

- Only you could really break his silence after that.

- “So… you’re falling for me?”

- He knows he can’t really lie himself out of this one.

- “Yeah… I guess I am… I have been for a while, actually.”

- Your silence was what caused him to panic.

- "I didn't mean to say that out loud, I swear," he tried to explain. "I mean, I wanted to, but I didn't think you'd feel the same w-"

- He didn't realize you were leaning in until your lips touched, causing him to immediately stop talking.

- When you pulled away, it took him a second to realize what just happened.

- But when he does, he has the biggest smile on his face you've ever seen.

- “So… does this mean you like me back?”

- Hey I like to think he’s just an oblivious boy, you gotta spell it out for him sometimes. But it’s one of his charms, trust.

- But I’m sure he knows how you feel at this point. He just wants to make sure he’s not imagining it.

- “I like you, Sam,” you confirm.

- It’s almost funny how giddy he gets.

- “You do?” He said, still processing everything.

- You nod in response, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing. I would laugh, it’s just so cute and dorky.

- “Holy shit,” he breathed. “You like me!”

Sebastian

- Sebastian’s all over the place when he thinks of confessing to you.

- He’s not really the type of person to show his emotions and express them clearly.

- But you made him wanna try to… which terrified him even more.

- But one day, after you gave him a beautiful frozen tear (they said they got it from the mines, which he wasn’t even going to question anymore), he was determined to tell you how he felt.

- It was the least he could do after all.

- So one night, he decided to drive you up to the mountain side with his motorcycle.

- “Make sure to hold on tight,” he said quietly, before beginning to drive.

- I’d like to think the farmer would start getting anxious from the silence. Although Sebastian was never really one to start a conversation, to you it seemed like he was avoiding one all together.

- Meanwhile Sebastian’s just thinking to himself, wondering how exactly he would be able to approach the topic.

- He didn’t even think of the awkward ride back if you rejected him up until now.

- Once you two make it to the cliff side, you decide to confront him about it.

- “Are you doing okay? You seem more quiet than usual.”

- He nods his head. “I’m fine.”

- That doesn’t really reassure you.

- “You know you can tell me anything right?”

- He stayed silent again, worrying you even more.

- “I know.”

- You drop the subject for now and look out to see the city lights, reminding you of the busy, never ending days you used to have.

- “I'm really glad you wanted to come here with me," he said softly while admiring the view.

- "I wouldn't miss this sight for anything else."

- "Being with you makes everything worth it."

- "You think so?"

- Sebastian gives a small smile and nods while a blush begins to form on his face.

- "Sometimes I feel so angry at everything. But when you show up, I start to calm down..." he turns to you. "I think you bring the best out of me. So, thank you."

- "You don’t need to thank me for that Seb. I like spending time with you."

- “I’m glad.”

- Both of you continue to stare out at the city lights. Internally Sebastian is struggling how to express his feelings until he finally decided to just say it.

- “Do you ever think we could be more than friends?”

- You were taken aback from the random question.

- “Well,” You said. “I think it’d be nice to, if I’m being honest.”

- He looked over at you, surprised. His surprise soon turns into a small smile, a glimpse of what he was actually feeling.

- My guy felt like he was over the moon hearing you say that.

- “Do you… ever want to go out with me sometime?”

- Uh, duh.

- “Sounds like a date,” you answer while scooting closer to him.

- He’s grinning now, but don’t let that fool you. On the inside, he’s falling for you, badly.

- “It’s new,” he said, while slowly putting an arm around you. “Being like this. It’s new… to me.”

- “Don’t worry,” You say softly while leaning into his touch. “We’re doing this together.”

Alex

- Alex had never felt this way about anyone before.

- He might’ve had something for Haley, but it was nothing compared to how you made him feel whenever you were around.

- So yeah, he was feeling a bit nervous. But he was mostly feeling excited.

- I'd like to think Alex and the farmer would flirt around with each other pretty regularly. So because of this, I don't think he'd be as worried as the other bachelors about getting completely shut down.

- He decided to invite you to the beach early in the morning. Originally he wanted to play some gridball with you, but you two would start to mess around to the point where you'd just be tossing the ball around.

- He didn't mind, of course. He liked spending time with you, especially when you two were playing sports together.

- You two ended up going in the water, throwing the gridball back and forth.

- He definitely splashed you while you were busy getting the ball after it slipped out of your hand.

- “Woah, :<name>:, why are you giving me that look?” He said, slowly backing away as you started to smirk. “You don’t need to get any closer to me you know.”

- Man who cares what he says?

- You splash him back anyways.

- And thus started a water fight, you two splashing each other for hours and hours.

- At this point it was more than a fight. It was a full on war.

- By the time you two were done, it was almost sunset.

- But neither of you cared, you two were having fun!

- “We should do this again,” he said causally while drying his hair. “You know, like a date.”

- “A date?” You asked, making sure you were hearing him right.

- “Yeah,” Alex confirmed. “You know, we’d make a pretty good couple.”

- You kinda freeze at that, at first.

- Sure, you had a crush on him, but why would you show it?

- You ultimately decide to play along, saying teasingly, “Oh yeah? And what kind of couple things would we do?”

- He just smirks at you, leaving you to scoff.

- “What?” He laughed. “You’d make a hot partner.”

- You roll your eyes and laugh, but start to calm down when seeing Alex walk up to you.

- “You know that’s not actually what I’d do, right?” He asked.

- “I know,” you responded. “You’re just joking around.”

- “No,” he says, catching your attention. “I mean, I was joking around. But I do wanna take you out on a date sometime.”

- “Do you?” You say.

- “Yeah,” he replied. “What do you say?”

- “Hm…” you said, pretending to think about it. “Pick me up tomorrow at 6.”

- You wink at him, causing him to slightly blush.

- “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Shane

- Shane was nervous, really.

- Not about messing up per say, but about embarrassing you. Putting you in an uncomfortable situation in case you didn’t feel the same way.

- He could honestly care less about what he messes up. You’ve already seen him at his lowest, and yet you didn’t run away.

- You didn’t give up on him.

- That feeling of warmth, support, and help made him realize he it’s okay to get help.

- He wanted to help you too. He wanted to be there for you, comfort you when you cry, everything.

- So, he went to you.

- Flowers in hand, he walked over to the farmhouse and knocked on your door, anxiously awaiting for you to answer.

- In that moment, his mind started spiraling with second thoughts. “What if they don’t feel the same way? What if this goes horribly wrong, and they start avoiding me?”

- His legs are frozen in place, but his mind kept throwing second thoughts at him left and right.

- He turns around to see you walking back from the bus. You’re smiling at him curiously.

- “Whatcha got there?” You say while leering over to take a peek.

- “Don’t worry about it,” he says dismissively while hiding the flowers.

- You peer over to take a peak, causing him to roll his eyes and to give you the flowers.

- “Just picked them as I was coming here,” he muttered while handing them to you.

- You smile in response.

- “The Shane? Giving me flowers? What is it, my birthday?”

- “Mm, you wish.”

- He’s not that good at uh… positive, feelings.

- “Listen, I was thinking…” Shane started to say. “There’s a game later this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

- “Me?” You say curiously. “I would’ve thought you were going to invite Marnie or Jas to come.”

- “Yeah well, they’re not really into that sort of thing,” he grumbled. “Plus… I wanted to kinda thank you. Treat you out or something.”

- “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were taking me out on a date,” you tease.

- He’s blushing like crazy now.

- “If you want it to be…”

- You blink, taken back by his rather bold answer.

- “Shane, are you asking me out on a date?”

- “I mean… you’ve helped me through a lot. Even if you don’t feel the same way, I wanna try to take you out as a thank you.”

- You smile warmly at him.

- “It’s a date then.”

Elliot

- Okay I’ve been looking forward to this one cause I really didn’t like his ten heart scene. IMO though.

- Elliot really wanted the way he asked you out to be perfect.

- Like, movie perfect. When the two main characters finally confess their love for each other and kiss while the camera slowly pulls away, showing the beautiful setting they found themselves in.

- He’s a day dreamer alright.

- Of course he had the doubt of you not feeling the same way, but he had to do it.

- As he would say, “My heart cannot bear this any longer.”

- So, he decided to write you a letter in the mail.

- “Dear :<name>: Meet me by the pier at 5PM. I have a surprise waiting for you. I hope to see you soon.”

- When you arrived, you were pleasantly surprised to see him sitting down on a blanket, with two wine glasses in the middle and candles scattered across the pier. The old rowboat that was near his house was now on the water, a rope tying it to the pier.

- “What’s all this?” You ask curiously while looking at the candles.

- “I felt compelled to do this for you, as a thank you,” he explained. “Come, sit with me.”

- He clears his throat a little while you sit down next to him.

- “:<name>:, you’ve supported me and my career when no one else did. You were the one to give me that push to finish my novel. So, thank you.”

- “You are a great writer, Elliot,” you say in response. “I’d be a fool if I didn’t support you.”

- He blushes slightly while giving you a small smile.

- “I thank you, nevertheless.”

- He picks up the two glasses and pours a little bit of wine in each glass. He holds one out to you and you take it, smiling at him before taking a sip.

- The two of you take in the nice cool breeze from the ocean and enjoy the moment.

- “:<name>:?”

- You look over at him.

- “I have a confession to make.”

- “What is it Elliot?”

- His heart is pounding at this point.

- “This Valley didn’t feel like home to me when I first came here,” he tried to explain. “Now, it finally does… :<name>:, I’m not sure how put this into words, for once I’m at a loss…”

- You wait for him to finish.

- “I have deep feelings for you,” he said slowly. “Since the moment you walked into the saloon, I’ve had them for you. And I cannot express how happy I feel when I’m with you.”

- Swoon

- “Will you do me the honor of going out with me..?”

- Well? What are you waiting for??

#stardew valley #sdv sam #sdv shane #sdv elliot #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #Sorry I couldn’t include Harvey #stardew headcanon #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley bachelors

[iliketotalk]

*ੈ𑁍༘⋆ NEXT TO YOU - C.S

warnings: angsty, toxic!chris, mention of drugs and alcohol, suggestive, sexual assault, mentions of blood, reader struggles with mental health

chris has always been the type of guy to believe in the ‘no relationship’ thing to feed his ego, but having a no strings attached fling with you makes him realise maybe he isn’t made for that lifestyle. but does he have the guts to admit it to you?

a/n: this story will probably have more than 1 part so idk how many exactly but it definitely won’t be more than 3 anyways i hope u like it 😖

wordcount: 1,675

playlist

PART 2 - TWENTY EIGHT

PART 3 - FALLEN STAR

“oh, i gotta get next to you.”

The skyline glows with the busy city lights brightening it subtly. Along the loud rhythm of music flows the sound of people chatting, the wind blowing and cars driving past underneath the 10 storey building. The rooftop is full of people I most definitely am not the same level as. Influencers, youtubers, and even singers I’ve never even seen in my entire life sit in every corner, smiling, laughing and looking happy as ever. I envy them.

I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea to come out today. My best friend, Sam literally dragged me out of my house to bring me here. I’ve been in a weird episode for the past few weeks and I’ve had zero motivation to do anything in my life. And this party - nope. Not my vibe today. Maybe a couple of months ago, but not today. Not now.

——————————���—

My bedroom was like a dump to stay in; clothes were strewn across the floor like a patchwork carpet of dirty outfits, my bed was literally invisible from the amount of crumpled blankets and sheets thrown on top of it carelessly. And don’t even ask about myself.

“Girl, I don’t even recognise you anymore. You need to come to your senses like - at this point I don’t even know what to say to you. I just miss the old Y/N. My heart sank at the last sentence. She wasn’t even angry or shouting, she just seemed sad, if anything. The door slammed shut. I sat and stared at my wall in the deafening silence for a good half hour before shaking myself off and looking at the pit I was sitting in.

It was 2 hours in cleaning my room and I had finally finished. I threw myself on my bed and made invisible angels in the covers. My room smelt clean, my bed sheets had finally been changed after countless days, no clutter was lying on my desk, and there was definitely no clothes in sight. I felt good. Then I felt the door reopen suddenly.

“What the fuck?” Sam shrieked, her mouth wide open. She glanced at me with a spark in her eye. “I am. So. Proud of you.” She said before running and jumping onto me in my bed. “Thanks. I need to have a shower though. It’s been nearly 2 weeks.” I chuckle before pushing her off and pulling my clothes off. “Yeah you don’t need to clarify that babes, I can smell it.” She sat upright and squinted her eyes at me. Oh god. “I’m going to a party tonight-“ No. I know what she’s going to say. “You’re coming with me-“ I stopped her abruptly “Absolutely not. There’s no way.”

I was wrong, not even 10 minutes had gone by and she had me doing full glam makeup and straightening my hair in the bathroom for a party I couldn’t care less about.

————————————

I’ve been standing here by the fence for a while now, the drink Sam poured me from when we first arrived still in my hand full. Boredom gets to me and I start pouring it down to watch it splatter onto the ground dozens of feet beneath me. “Wasteful much?” A voice looms beside me and I drop the cup. A guy voice. “Dude - you could’ve warned me you were there, I mean thanks to you I-“ I annoyedly replied, turning around to see the dick that made me jump in the first place and my voice fades. We lock eyes immediately and I feel my stomach drop.

The way he’s looking at me, as if he’s trying to read me, draw me in, understand me is intimidating. I open my mouth to say something, anything, and all of a sudden, I can’t speak. And instead, my lips curve into a mere pout. My cheeks heat up a rosy pink and I turn back around to look at the glass buildings in front of me to play it off. I am literally the most embarrassing person in the world.

God, avoiding his stare is so difficult. I can feel his eyes trailing onto my back, the black skin-tight dress I’m wearing, my legs. They’re like lasers, leaving scars wherever they go. “So what’s your deal?” He smirks. What an asshole. “I don’t have one. Quit staring at my ass, I know it’s great.” I pounce back. Two can play this game. “Didn’t even give me a chance to say it myself, damn.” He chuckled and turned to face the same direction as me. I stay silent. The scent of his cologne getting stronger and stronger as I feel him etch closer to me. “Staring is rude, you know. Mommy didn’t ever teach you manners?” I mocked, I love crushing a guys ego.

Instead, he laughed. Not patronisingly though - he genuinely laughed. “Nah, not when someone like you is stood right there in front of me” Someone like me? He definitely speaks to every girl he meets like this. I turn around to face him but the way he’s observing me is so intimidating. Damn, this guy knows how to hold eye contact. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I whisper slowly, staring at his full lips that he so teasingly licks. I don’t realise it but I’m desperately squeezing my thighs together, underwhelmed by the space between us and begging for some friction. His arms come over the fence and moves my hand away from my face. “You know.”

Before I can even process his words, his lips come crashing into me and his stubble grazes my cheeks softly. My body freezes but moulds into his shape so quickly. The taste of his alcohol mixed with the sweet lip gloss I’m wearing is deadly. My hands come up to his hair without even realising it and I tug on his strands, begging for more. He notices and in return, his lips trail down to my jaw - to my neck and he starts sucking on the hollow part of my collarbone. How does he know so well where to touch me? I slip out a whimper and push him away for a second. I’m not going to be doing this in public. “Mine?” He clears his throat and breathes out, his index finger hooked under my dress strap, still latching onto me. I nod.

He leads me through the crowded indoors and I frantically search for Sam in the herd of intoxicated people, until I hear her voice behind me. “Y/N! Where are you going, it’s still early!” She shouts, trying to get closer to me. My eyes widen and I point my head towards him by the door, and I realise I don’t even know his name but I’m about to have sex with him. I need to have better standards. “Ohhh okay I see youu, go catch your dick mami” She smirks and I kiss her cheek goodbye “I’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for today” I say.

When we leave the complex, it suddenly feels so quiet and cold. “So your name’s Y/N? You never told me.” I roll my eyes, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

I can’t just go to someone’s place and not know anything about them, it’s weird. “You know what, how about let’s do a real introduction. Start over, no?” I suggest sticking my hand out, in which he pulls a funny face at. “Uh, okay..I’m Chris.” He chuckles while placing his hand in mine to shake. “I’m Y/N. How’s your day been today?” I pull away and start walking backwards to see his face properly. “Eh, it was okay. Until I saw a weird girl standing by herself and pouring drinks down a balcony for no reason like a psychopath.” He giggled while kicking litter on the sidewalk like a teen. “Um, rude much? And you kissed me, so I guess you’re a psycho too, then?” I ask while slowing down and turning back around. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He pulls me in by my arm and we walk the rest of the journey to his place.

————————————

“We’re here.” He finally says, it feels as if we’ve been walking for hours. Number twenty-eight.

He pulls out his keys and opens the door slowly, as if he’s trying to be quiet. “Sorry, my brothers are probably asleep right now” he rolls his eyes and lets me in. “You have brothers?” I say, acting surprised when you can really tell by the look of the house. It looks so lived in, especially by men. The look of the house, even if you ignore the slight mess of it just looks so frat-boyish. “Yeah, I’m a triplet, You got lucky you ran into me tonight though” he flashes a quick wink at me before pulling off his jacket and beanie. I sit myself down in the living room and all of a sudden, it goes silent again.

Crickets chirping. Awkwardness fills every void.

“So-” I try to say before being cut off by his lips crashing into mine once again, damn he needs to warn me when he does that. I tense up but give in almost immediately. I can’t seem to get enough of his taste, his touch or his smell. The scent of his musky cologne filling my senses makes my core heat up like never before. I think I’ve forgotten how it is to be touched since it’s not happened for so long. My palms glide over his groin and tug on his belt, signalling him to take it off and his voice hitches into a slight groan.

His hands come around from my back to my hips, picking me up so effortlessly to his bedroom. The black skirt I’m wearing rides up my thighs as he slides his fingers up to grab my ass. The cold sensation of his rings against my skin makes me clench and goosebumps ride all over my arms and legs.

This is going to be a long night.

RAHHH I FINALLY FINISHED THIS CHAPTER

its taken me about 4 days to actually get to this

anyway idk when the next chapter will be bc im kinda unmotivated and can’t come up with stuff anymore

PLEASE COMMENT IF U WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!!! reblogs are also appreciated lololol anyway thanks ilysm for reading this <3

#chris sturniolo #chris x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #stromboli #chris owen #chris smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #fresh love #lil skies #let’s trip tour #versus tour #space camp wellness #fanfiction #series #🤍

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

AN: Real quick, just want to say I’m so happy that so many people seem to like this little story so far! Here’s a longer chapter for ya.~

Word Count: 4,300 Warnings: Mentions of anxiety. Language.

Part 2: Connection

Dean honestly didn’t remember that snowy day when he was seventeen with much clarity. Or that sad, anxious feeling in his chest.

Not until six years later, anyway.

It was only a few months after Sam left for college, and left his older brother behind. Well, he’d left John too, but he was the one who gave Sam the ultimatum in the first place.

If you leave, don’t you dare come back.

So Dean struggled to be okay with that while he and John were on another hunt in South Dakota. There was a short but significant string of murders in Vermillion, about an hour away from Sioux Falls.

“Too bad Bobby couldn’t make it,” Dean said. He and John were researching the case at the closest library—over at the University of South Dakota. This one was huge, with multiple floors and new computers.

I guess this is what nerds like Sammy dream about, Dean thought.

“Yeah, could’ve used the manpower. But he’s got his own hunt over in South Carolina somewhere,” John said. His voice was gruff with tiredness. They’d driven for about a week straight, slowly but surely getting farther from the west coast.

“So this thing eats hearts. That could still be a lot of things,” Dean said. He gestured at the small pile of books between them at their table. John had been jotting something down in the autopsy report they’d stolen. He then turned it Dean’s way and tapped his finger on the puncture wounds.

“Those look canine,” John said.

Dean’s browed crunched. “Werewolf? It’s not a full moon.”

His dad shook his head. “Similar, but different. If I’m right, all we need is a couple silver bullets. After we track this thing down.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Dean grinned at his own pun. “What is it?”

John smirked. “It’s a skinwalker.”

That rung some kind of bell, but Dean would be hard-pressed to remember what made a skinwalker different from a werewolf. He hadn’t encountered one before, but after he killed it, he’d be sure to remember.

John explained how skinwalkers were actually a lot like werewolves: they could infect people with a single bite, they liked their burger meat raw (as in, fresh human hearts), and more importantly, silver could kill them.

Though unlike their lunar-dependent cousins, skinwalkers could shapeshift into their animal form whenever they wanted. And that didn’t limit to canines.

“But in this case,” John said, pointing again at the autopsy pictures, “I’d say we got us a dirty dog.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, so how do we find him?”

“What do the vics have in common?”

They started pouring over the police reports of the five victims. John took out a map of the city and made notes on the location where each body was found.

This was the part Sam was hella good at. Dean enjoyed the Magnum P.I. aspect of it, but sitting here in a dusty library for hours was going to be a severe test of his patience.

He tried to focus on the reports, and he actually noticed that one of the victims was a college student—here at South Dakota University. Another one was a bartender, and the bar was only a couple of blocks down the road.

Interesting.

He shuffled through the papers to find the third victim and felt something nagging in the back of his mind—an annoying buzz that made his brows knit together. He was already feeling a bit restless sitting here, his knee bouncing in place and rattling the table a bit.

John looked up at him. “What’s the matter?”

Dean blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

“You’re shaking the table.”

Dean forced his knee to stop. But that was when he felt it—a growing sense of frustration and anxiety blooming in his chest.

What the hell? he thought. He was perfectly fine a few minutes ago. Why did it feel like it was getting hard to breathe?

“Dean.” John looked at his son a bit harder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered quickly. “Fine…I’m gonna find a bathroom.”

He tried to be normal as he got up and left the table, but at soon as he was out of eye-shot of his dad, he made swifter strides towards the nearest bathroom. He went to the sink and splashed some water across his face to wake himself up. God, why’m I so freakin’ tired?

He took slow, deep breaths to calm down. Even though his mind was racing with what the fuck, what the fuck.

He wiped his face with some paper towel and realized his hands were shaking. Was he sick or something? He knew that Taco Bell breakfast burrito was too good to be true—

That’s it. Wake the hell up. I can’t fail this damn final!

That. That was not his thought.

“What the fuck?” Dean couldn’t help saying it out loud, just to make sure he could still speak normally.

He stared at his own shocked face in the mirror.

Then finally, he knew.   

He knew what these symptoms were, because while he’d ignored that chapter of social studies, Sam had always been an avid student. Truth be told, Dean hadn’t really wanted to learn that subject. It was the reason he didn’t like thinking about their mom. And the reason why their dad barely spoke about her.

But Dean knew what happened when soulmates started getting close to one another for the first time.

Dean was feeling his freaking soulmate, and it was scaring the hell out of him.

Suddenly he could feel the bond. It was like a humming thread in his mind, an itch he wanted to scratch. If he just reached out the slightest bit, he could touch it. He could connect with whoever it was on the other line.

He could…or he could just leave it for a while until he figured out what he was even going to say, let alone do if someone answered him back.

So he did what most twenty-three year old men would do when faced with a potentially life-changing bond of commitment and…feelings.

He shoved it down and ran.

Well, not literally ran, but he was quick to leave the bathroom and return to his dad.

“Finally. What the hell took you so long?” John asked. He was already gathering their stuff together to leave.

Dean felt pinned by his dad’s gaze, but he did his best to play it smooth.

“Uh, sorry. Breakfast burrito hit me sideways. Then there was no toilet paper in the stall and I had to climb under and—”

John grimaced and held up a hand to stop him. “All right. Let’s just go.”

Dean let out a relieved breath. He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and followed his dad out of the library, back to the Impala. He climbed into the passenger seat and took a swig of an old soda to steady himself.

He still felt her anxiety in his chest (at least, he hoped it was a her). Maybe she was having a rough day…but once he remembered what she’d said in his head, he wanted to slap a hand to his forehead.

You idiot. She’s studying for a test, he thought. She’s probably a student here.

That realization made him smirk. Aw, yeah. College girl, huh?

Though that thought was followed by a dousing shower of reality.

Oh shit. The thing we’re hunting just ate a college freshman.

“Dean, what’s the matter with you? You lost in space over there?” John asked. It punctured the bubble of Dean’s internal world and made him sharpen to attention.

“Nah, I’m fine. Where’re we headed?”

John scrutinized him a bit longer, but at Dean’s stubbornness, he seemed to let it go for now.

“To find this thing,” he said. “I narrowed down its hunting grounds and called the local animal control. They’ve been getting reports of people hearing a stray dog barking, but no one’s seen him.”

Dean nodded and settled back into his seat. Just focus on the hunt, he told himself. Deal with the rest after.

You were having a phenomenally shitty day.

Well, you supposed that was nothing new. You were twenty years old, still not old enough to legally drink but old enough to have adult bills and adult stress to go along with it. So you were also broke.

And you were halfway through a degree in history. A degree that your father repeatedly told you was “impractical” to earn a decent living with. Which wasn’t even true.

…Okay, maybe that was a little bit true. But you liked history, and you could easily fall into Mom’s footsteps and become a teacher.

You could work for a museum. You could become a world-renowned historian, or write an award-winning historical fantasy like Game of Thrones and make millions off the TV deal!

…Okay, most likely it was probably going to the teacher thing, but at least you still had dreams.

Your dad only believed in what he could see right in front of his narrow-minded face.

Your dad was a dream killer.

Maybe you shouldn’t have told him that on the phone just now, but you were fuming, damn it. This wasn’t what you needed on finals week. Especially because you had an insane Calculus final to cram for, and only a few hours to do it. You needed to get back to your part-time job at the coffee shop by three. Unfortunately, you were closing tonight.

First, you needed a pick-me-up before you headed to the library.

Sighing, you rubbed the silver ring on your right hand absently as you waited in line at the university’s café. The ring had been your mom’s, and now it was yours. On most days, it gave you comfort; just that little bit of extra support to get you through.  

Eventually, you got to the front of the line and rattled off your coffee order while still looking up at the menu board: extra-large black coffee with a turbo shot, four sugars. When your gaze slid down and met the guy ringing you up, your brain stuttered to a halt.

“Okay, got it. One ‘Turbo Cram Session’ coming up,” he said. He gave you a charming, friendly grin. With his hazel eyes and tan skin, he was a rare find in a midwestern town like this. His brown hair was long, brushing past his shoulders. He almost reminded you of a character from the cheesy vampire book your teen cousin Lily was obsessed with.

Regardless, he was attractive.

A nervous flutter in your stomach made you smile back. “Thanks.”

You paid the overly expensive bill and watched him make your coffee.

“Finals week, right?” he commiserated.

“Yep.” You sighed and nodded. “Three exams tomorrow, one at eight-in-the-damn-morning.”

He whistled sympathetically. “Yeah, it’s a killer.”

He put the lid on your steaming coffee and handed it to you. His fingers brushed your hand when you took the to-go cup from him, but he hissed a bit and pulled his hand back.

“You okay?” you asked in concern. He glanced at your hand. You toyed with your ring in a nervous habit.

“Yeah, some coffee spilled. No worries,” he said. He flashed you a smile. “If you need to pull an all-nighter, just come back. I can help you mainline the espresso machine.”

He tapped the inside of your wrist and you laughed, playing along. “You’d do that for me?”

“Just for you,” he said with a nod. He pressed a finger to his lips conspiringly. “Keep it quiet, though, or the whole school will be cramming in here like stray cats.”

You laughed again. His nametag read, James.

“Got it. Thanks, James.”

“Call me Jimmy,” he said, giving you a more flirtatious smile.

You left the café with a full-on blush warming your face. When your hands hand brushed, you felt tingles on your skin…but you hadn’t heard his thoughts.

He’s not the one.

Disappointing.

You continued on your path to the library.

You were a bit introverted, mostly keeping to yourself. Your friends were back home in Sioux Falls, so you didn’t really have anyone here, and you didn’t put yourself out there as much as you could. But even when guys did notice you (however few and far between that was), you just couldn’t bring yourself to entertain them. Not if you couldn’t feel them.

Maybe that was a lonely way to go through life. Your friends had certainly told you so. They encouraged you to have fun and explore in college, and part of you wanted to. Another part—the more sensitive part—thought that was just setting yourself up for disappointment.

You wanted something real. Something that would last. Like what your parents had, before…

Whatever. Enough of that. You shook your head to clear your thoughts as you approached the library, but it was hard.

Juggling a full-time college schedule, two part-time jobs, and commuting over an hour every day to school was hard. And your dad wasn’t making it any easier.

All right, stop it. Anxiety was starting to well up in your chest, and you couldn’t afford to battle with it right now.

You went into the library and found your usual spot, practically buried behind the reference books. Finding your favorite work desk, you settled your things there and sipped your coffee. You willed yourself to calm down—to power through that voice in your head that wanted to focus on your problems instead of solutions.

You only had a few hours to plug several complex math equations into your head.

That’s it. Wake the hell up, you thought sternly. I can’t fail this damn final!

With a shaky breath, you cracked open your Calculus book, put on your headphones and some music, and started studying.

A few minutes later, the men’s bathroom door opened with a loud crack and someone quickly walked out of it—right past your table.

You were too deep in your studies and your music to notice. 

Father and son were on the hunt.

John was pretty sure they’d found the skinwalker (in a coffee shop of all places). They just had to wait until the bastard came out.

He and Dean waited in the Impala with Reuben sandwiches to tide them over for the stakeout. John discreetly shot his son a glance.

The boy had been off his game all day, but he couldn’t put his finger on why…

“Hey Dad, where’s Zeppelin IV?” he asked, around a mouthful of Reuben. A smile twitched at John’s lips. He wordlessly retrieved the cassette from the compartment on the driver’s side door and held it up in his hand.

“Hey, why d’you keep it on your side?” Dean asked. “You don’t trust me with your tunes by now? Just like you never let me drive?” 

He was mostly teasing, but maybe there was a thread of truth underneath. John scoffed.

“I don’t let you drive the Impala ‘cause you’re a punk,” he said. He offered Dean the cassette, but just as he was about to grab it, John took it back and popped it into the cassette player himself. He smirked. “Driver picks the music.”

Dean gave him a look, like he wanted to snipe a comeback, but thought better of it. He sat back into his seat.

John took a satisfied bite out of his sandwich.

Oh shit!

You sprung up from your desk in the library, wiping drool from the side of your cheek.

Tell me I didn’t fucking fall asleep!

Sure enough, your Calculus book was cracked open, your half-drunk coffee was cold, and you had all but missed your shift at work. No, no, no!

You dashed around like a mad person trying to collect your books, pens, your phone—everything into your backpack. You had walked here from your dorm, so you were just going to have to run to the coffee shop on foot. You were too broke to take a taxi and the bus would take too damn long.

It was only, what, a mile or two?

Lord help me.

You didn’t have a choice. You just had to run.

“Coffee boy’s clocking out,” Dean observed. He and John climbed out of the Impala. By then it was evening, almost night. The sun dipped behind the clouds and the streetlights were about to come on. Rush hour traffic was heavy here at a four-way intersection.

Dean focused on their target. The guy looked normal—dark hair, tan skin. I guess that’s the idea, Dean thought. Look normal, blend in by slinging watery, overpriced coffee, get your filet o’ human hearts on the side.

When the guy came out of the café, he didn’t walk to a car parked on the street. Instead, he dipped between the café and the university library and went through a back alley.

“Let’s go,” John said, and with their guns loaded up with silver (hidden in their jackets), they hurried across the street and ducked into the alley.

But they didn’t see any trace of the guy. Both retrieved and cocked their guns, moving through the alley slowly.

Dean was usually good at this part. His ex-marine dad had trained him well, and he was focused. Alert.

Until something nagged at the back of his mind. A low hum as that connection flared to life. 

Oh fuck. His lips pursed. A persistent feeling of worry (that wasn’t his own) prickled in his chest, like fire ants across his skin. He tried his best to shut it out.

Not now.

You rushed out the library doors and inwardly bemoaned that it was practically nighttime. You were lucky if you still had a job by the time you got to work.

Damn it! Frustration and worry warred for dominance, but you couldn’t focus on that.

Not now.

You hesitated a moment. A weird feeling fluttered in your chest just then…

Ugh, whatever, you dismissed, shaking your head. I’m insane, it’s fine.

You ran to the street intersection and waited impatiently for the walking light to turn green. 

You looked both ways on the street. It was still red, but there was a window of opportunity in a short lull of cars. You could make it if you hurried.

So you did. You took your chance and ran halfway down the street, making it past the first wave of oncoming traffic. You just didn’t account for the truck that was turning the corner—from the opposite direction.

You had time to utter a scream before you dove for the sidewalk. A woman walking her dog helped you up, asking if you were okay.

You were and you weren’t, really. You were shaking, but you thanked the woman with a trembling smile. At this point, you didn’t care if you were fired. Five bucks an hour wasn’t worth getting splattered on a dusty pavement. 

Damn. Guess I’ll have to apply at Starbucks.

It was intense.

Your fear was like a searing hot knife ripping through Dean’s heart, and it tore a ragged sound from his throat as his knee buckled.

John’s head swiveled to him with wide eyes. “Dean—”

That was the opening their prey was waiting for. Or rather, the creature that was hunting them.

A large dog leapt from the roof of the café—behind and above them. It went for Dean first, biting into his arm through his jacket. Both of them went down as Dean struggled and the animal growled and tried to shred his arm. Dean almost didn’t feel the pain, but he felt panic of his own as he tried to pry the creature off by his canine ears. 

“Dean!”

He looked up at his dad, who stood with his gun aloft. Dean trusted him. He helped give an opening and moved his face away.

Three shots rang out.

The first two killed the skinwalker. The third was just for insurance, and maybe vengeance.

John helped Dean out from under the creature’s body, and they watched it transform back into its natural form. Coffee shop boy.

James, Dean read on his nametag.

“Rest in peace, Cujo,” he quipped, but by now the pain was finally registering. His arm wept with blood through his jacket, and he hissed in pain when his dad put firm pressure on the wound.

“What the fuck happened, Dean?” John demanded. “You got shit between your ears, or a working brain? Because whatever’s got you distracted, that’s how you get killed.”

His father’s anger wasn’t pleasant, but his disappointment was crushing.

Dean swallowed the pain, both physical and…and the rest. He just nodded and apologized.

“Sorry, Dad.”

John shook his head, but he continued leading Dean back to the car.

Back at the motel, John was able to stitch Dean up and wrap his arm. They had planned to leave after the hunt to save money on another motel night…but John agreed to give it one more day to let Dean rest on a real bed.

His son wasn’t just in pain. He was melancholy.

It was unusual for Dean, who normally kept up a decent attitude. And it wasn’t like him to slip up like that on a hunt. John could admit, things were different now without Sam. John was different.

Not that he’d been a picnic before. He knew that much. But maybe Sam leaving was harder than John cared to admit.

After he and Dean were showered up, John brought them back some takeout and beers. He gave Dean one, but before he turned on the TV, he hesitated. A twinge of sorry was at the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he asked, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

His son opened his mouth, a denial ready to fire.

“Don’t lie to me, son,” John said. “Just…tell me what happened today.”

It took a while to pry it out of him. He was resistant, and John expected that.

Dean, for his part, was trying to figure out what to say. How to say it.

Just then, he also remembered something Sam told him when he was only in sixth grade.

“Dean, did you know this? Human souls are really complex, and they’re unique too. We learned about it today in school.”

“Good for you, Super Geek.” 

“They found out that connected souls subconsciously try to find each other. So when you start hearing someone’s thoughts, it’s because the souls are trying to bond together, like molecules.”

Like molecules, huh?

Speaking of, Dean hadn’t heard your thoughts since that terrifying moment when he felt you…

For a moment, he’d thought you’d….

Though deep down, he knew you weren’t gone. He knew the bond was there, like an idle TV. Either you lived really close to this motel, or this HBO connection was getting a wider bandwidth.

“Dean?” John pressed.

Dean looked up, breaking from his thoughts. John didn’t often ask him to open up. But Dean figured if anyone would understand, it would probably be his dad.

He was forced to contemplate the question that had been scaring him all day.

Did he want the same soul bond his parents had, even if it nearly killed John after she died?

“…Dad, how did you and Mom meet?”

The question took John by surprise…but maybe it shouldn’t have. His perceptive gaze washed over Dean.

“It was after I came back from Vietnam,” John said eventually. “We ran into each other by the old movie theater.”

Dean smiled. “Aw, both of you were in line for Jaws?”

A resigned smile quirked at John’s lips. “That was ’75, genius. And no, we…literally ran into each other. Full speed. I went to help her up, but she was already doing it herself. Plus picking up everything that fell outta her bag. All I could do was stare at her like an idiot, ‘cause…I heard her say, God damn it.”

John had been lost in the memory for a moment, but here he looked at Dean.

“But she didn’t say it. She thought it,” he said. “And I knew it was her. She was it for me.”

“And she did too?” Dean asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“No,” John laughed a little. “She took some convincing, if I remember right.”

“What, she couldn’t hear your thoughts?”

“No, she could. But that…connection. It’s different in the beginning,” John said, with a heavy sigh. This was harder to talk about than he thought. For Dean, he would do it. But just this once.

“You don’t have so much control over it. It just kinda…happens.”

“And…how did that work, exactly?” Dean asked.

“Why do you want to know?” John returned. Dean quieted, looking down at his beer.

That was all the confirmation he needed to finally know what was going on. He sighed again.

“Son,” he started, then hesitated. He knew what he was about to say wasn’t completely right, but it was the truth. One day, Dean would understand.

“Son,” he said again. “Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean’s brows knit together, a silent question that he almost didn’t want to ask. John answered it anyway.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody,” he said.

Dean took those words to heart. He reminded himself that his dad had seen blood and war long before he met Mary. Maybe his dad had more regrets than just not being able to save her.

So the next morning, Dean slid into the Impala’s passenger seat. John drove them away from the college town, out of Vermillion, South Dakota.

Dean felt relieved, and also guilty. Then, the farther they got, he just felt wrong.

Soon enough, the warm tendril of connection in his chest dissipated.

AN: Phew! Okay, one major step closer to you and Dean finally meeting. I definitely drew on some of my own experiences at college here lol.

Read on to: Part 3.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean x female!reader #dean x female reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #john winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #soulmate au #soulmates #slipped in a winchesters reference #spn #spn fanfic #zepskies #zepskies writes #dean x you

[wolfjackle-creates]

The Two Ghost Motel

So, as I mentioned, I joined the DP Ecto-Implosion Event this past month and it's Posting Week now! So I get to finally share with you the first chapter of my fic. Still working on editing the second half of the fic, but it's fully written as of this time.

For those who don't know, for the Ecto-Implosion event, artists drew/animated/composed some piece of art and writers then went in and wrote fics based off their art.

I was lucky enough to be paired with the super talented @i-think-in-metaphors who made this gorgeous artwork:

You can read on AO3 here (this fic is not locked to AO3 users only).

And for those of you who prefer to read on Tumblr:

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Minor Original Character Death (not in this chapter)

Fandom: DPxDC (though no knowledge of DC is necessary for this fic. I use a single character and he has amnesia, it takes place in an original setting or Amity)

Summary:

Danny is tired. Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over. “I’m fine, Ember.” Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really. But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel. He checks in. “Welcome.”

-----

Danny wasn’t sure when he first saw the neon sign. Honestly, he didn’t even realize it was something ghostly when he did. He just thought it was one more ghost-themed business that had come to Amity since the portal opened.

But when he mentioned the motel to Sam and Tucker, they looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’ve never heard of any Two Ghost Motel,” said Sam. “Where’d you see it?”

Tucker was typing into his PDA. “Nothing’s coming up online, either.”

“Oh come on, you’re pulling my leg. We’ve passed it at least a half dozen times. Last night when we were leaving Nasty Burger for one! And I think, what, three nights before that? On patrol? Where were we?”

“Dude, that night we were near the library. No where near Nasty Burger. No way you could’ve seen the same place both nights,” said Tucker.

“Danny, when was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Sam’s brow was knit in concern.

Danny waved off her concern. “Whatever. I know I’ve seen it. The sign is bright pink and orange with blue ghosts on it.”

Sam just shrugged and shook her head. “Point it out next time you see it.”

Before Danny could reply, his ghost sense went off and he groaned. “Ugh, looks like someone’s around. I’m too tired for this.” Danny glanced around. They were in the park and no humans were nearby so he let his transformation wash over him.

He flew into the air and tried to listen past the sound of his breaths echoing through his mask. Even though he didn’t breathe when transformed, something about the hazmat suit remembered and the sound was inescapable.

A guitar chord played behind him and Danny instinctively threw up a shield and fell ten feet right as a blast from Ember’s instrument headed his way.

“Hey there, baby-pop!” she called. “I was sitting around, bored out of my mind, when I remembered I could just come here to have some fun!”

Danny turned to face her. “Come on, Ember.” His voice always sounded so robotic when filtered through the mask. “I’m tired.”

“Too bad. I’m not.” She grinned at him and strummed a few notes, sending more attacks his way.

Danny dodged, only to have to watch one of the blasts hit a bench and destroy it. He flew higher, hoping her next attacks wouldn’t cause more collateral that would be blamed on him.

“What, you just gonna dance around like that? Come on, attack back!”

“My moves not good enough for you?”

“You need to step it up if you want to be my back up dancer.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh and when she sent her next blast his way, he avoided it by doing a backwards dive towards the ground only to circle back up until he was facing her. “How’s that?”

“Better, but you’re still not there. Your moves have to match the music!” She played a tune with a fast beat and Danny dodged and spun. And if he added some flair to his movements, well, he deserved the chance to have a little fun.

Another blast his way, and he twisted his hips. Matching Ember’s beat, he sent a few ectoblasts back at her.

Ember laughed. “Now you’re catching on!”

Danny allowed himself a quick glance down where he saw Sam and Tucker not even trying to hide. Tucker was filming them.

Which, of course, is when it all had to be ruined by the unmistakable sounds of the GAV driving cross-country.

“Through the park?” he moaned. “Seriously?”

“Shit, that’s your folks, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“You’ve got it, babypop. I came here for fun, not to mess with them.”

The GAV came to a stop and Danny saw his mom rush out of the passenger side with one of their new, long-distance guns. He tacked Ember, only just getting her out of the way of the blast.

Without any discussion, both turned invisible and flew out of the park. Danny didn’t let them stop until they were in a forest out of range of his parents’ trackers. Exhaustion set back in as soon as he realized they were safe, and he just plopped down on the ground and leaned against a tree.

“Ready to resume your dancing lessons?” asked Ember.

Danny groaned and rested his head against the rough bark. It was probably stupid, but he let his eyes close. “Maybe next time. I meant it when I said I’m tired.”

She didn’t say anything as one, two, three breaths sounded from his mask. And then he heard some leaves rustle. He cracked open an eye to see Ember making herself comfortable on the ground a few feet away.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Finals are coming up and if I don’t do well, I’m going to fail sophomore year.”

“Y’know, I’ve heard of a place…”

Danny waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he hummed. “A place?”

“Yeah. Haven’t been there myself. But, there’s this place. It’s for ghosts who aren’t ready to move on from Earth just yet. Ghosts who live only on Earth without ever going the Zone get tired and weak. There’s just not enough ectoplasm around. Except for here, of course.”

“So what’s this place do?”

“Gives you somewhere to rest. And recharge. It’s not really on Earth. It’s a sort of in between place. Called the Two Ghost Motel. Might be worth checking in for a night if you ever don’t want to be at home for one reason or another.”

Danny hummed. “I’ve seen it around. Thought it was just a regular motel, but Sam and Tucker didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Ember picked out a tune on her guitar, but this time no attacks emanated from it. “It’s not a place for the living from what I’ve heard. Just the dead.”

Danny looked up at the stars through the tree branches, but he shook his head. “I’m fine, Ember. Just need to get some sleep.”

“Whatever you say, baby-pop.”

---

After that conversation with Ember, the motel began basically haunting him. Every night, as soon as dusk started to fall, he’d see it. Always a few streets away, just sitting there calling to him; it’s sign bright in the dark.

Sam and Tucker couldn’t see it, no matter how often he pointed it out to him. Jazz could sometimes see something out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked on more directly, it was never there.

Danny never approached. He was fine. He had a home and friends. There was no reason to go to some random motel.

Finals came and went. He managed to scrape by with at least Cs in everything. His parents, especially his mom, had not been happy with those grades, but Danny was just glad to have passed.

Didn’t stop him from being grounded and forced to help out more in the lab. One afternoon, he was in his room playing Doomed with Sam and Tucker when he got a message from his parents calling him back down to help them out.

“Ugh, I’ve got to go down to the lab.”

“Seriously?” complained Tucker. “Again?”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam. “Seems you’re always off helping them lately. Can’t you say no?”

“It’s this or having my phone and computer taken away. I’ll take the lab work.” He saved his progress. “Will you guys be on later?”

“Can’t,” said Sam. “My parents are forcing me to go to a fancy dinner somewhere. And they’re not giving me any more information than that to keep me from planning anything disruptive.”

“And mine have declared we’re having a tech-free family bonding night,” said Tucker, rolling his eyes. “With board games! Who plays board games in this day and age?”

Danny laughed. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, then. Later.”

Danny signed off and went downstairs. The hazmat suits were kept in a closet right next to the door to the lab, and Danny went through the process of pulling it all on. The mask that came with it was even more annoying in human form than ghost. The filtered air always tasted strange, but he’d given up complaining about that years ago.

He unlocked the lab door and went down to the lab.

“Dan-o!” called his dad as soon as he saw him. “Come here! You’re job will be to control the current!”

“Uh, current?” asked Danny.

“We’re trying to figure out how to disrupt the electrical signal in ectoplasm that gives ghosts their shape,” explained his mom. She had a bowl of ectoplasm in a glass terrarium and was arranging two metal probes so they dipped into it.

“Exactly!” agreed his dad. “So you’re going to sit at this computer”—he pulled out a chair before one of the lab computers and gestured for Danny to sit—“and adjust the frequency and voltage.”

Danny took a seat and stared at the program that was loaded on the screen. At least he wouldn’t be anywhere near the probes? A glance at the puddle of ectoplasm had him holding back a shudder.

“First we’re going to try and force the ectoplasm to form a shape,” continued his mom. “We’re going to do that with probe A. You’re going to start with a low frequency and voltage and slowly increase it while your father and I mark down how it affects the ectoplasm. We have some hypotheses about when it’ll start to form a shape.”

“And once it forms a shape,” said his dad, “you’ll use probe B to send a contrary electrical signal to destabilize it!”

“And then no more ghost!”

Suddenly Danny was glad his suit had a face mask. His parents were going to do what? Figure out how to use electricity to destabilize ghosts? It wasn’t possible. There was no way it could work. Right? He had to stay and prove to himself they were talking crazy.

“What—” His mouth was dry and he had to try again. “How should I start?”

“The settings are already loaded,” said his mom. She grabbed a tablet and sat down in front of the terrarium.

Dad sat next to her, grinning widely. “Go ahead, Dan-o!”

Danny’s hand shook as he placed it on the mouse. He sat on the other to hide it. Then he turned on the probe.

At first, nothing happened. The ectoplasm stayed a puddle and there was no visible change in it. But as he adjusted the current, it began to ripple. His parents loudly exclaimed over every change as they shouted instructions back to him.

Each change had Danny’s heart beating harder in his chest.

Two hours in is when it happened. The ectoplasm started to form a ball that rose up out of the bowl. Danny could feel something cold in the back of his throat. Not his ghost sense, but something close.

“This is it!” yelled his dad. “Danny, what’re the settings?”

Once more, Danny was glad for the way the mask muffled his voice just enough to mask how horrified he was by the thing that was forming. His parents’ theories about electrical currents couldn’t be true. They couldn’t.

“Now for us to try disrupting the current!” The glee in his mom’s voice made bile rise in Danny’s throat. But when she told him to turn on probe B, he did.

It only took twenty minutes to find the settings that made the ectoplasm fall apart back into a puddle.

Danny was up on his feet, chair toppled, in an instant. He held a gloved hand to his masked face as if he could keep from throwing up with the motion alone. It had looked so much like Ellie when she was destabilizing.

“Danny?” asked his mom, tablet forgotten on her chair as she rushed over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I… I’m feeling a bit sick. Can I, can I go? Bathroom?”

His mom reached out to brush a hand over his covered forehead as if to check his temperature. “Oh sweetie, of course you can. You should’ve told us you weren’t feeling well. There’s some soup in the fridge if you think you can eat that.”

“I— yeah. Thanks.” He didn’t wait to hear anything else she had to say and just ran up the stairs. He shed his gear in record time and ran all the way up to his room. He slammed the door shut and grabbed his backpack from where it hung on his desk chair.

With shaking hands, he took out everything in the main compartment. Then he ran to his dresser and grabbed a change of clothes and something to sleep in. He couldn’t stay here right now. He just couldn’t.

From the bathroom, he grabbed some toiletries and added those.

Less than fifteen minutes after leaving the lab, he was out the front door and walking down the street. It was late, dusk starting to fall.

He considered going to Nasty Burger to get some dinner, but then he remembered the way the ball of ectoplasm had melted and he changed directions. Eventually his wandering brought him to the park where he found a bench in an empty area and sat down, dropping his backpack at his feet.

Danny buried his face in his hands as he forced himself to just breathe. He and Tucker could mess with the results from these experiments just like they had so many times in the past. It was going to be fine.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Mom said you weren’t feeling well? Jazz: Where’d you go? You’re not in your room. Danny: Sorry, Jazz. I had to get out of the house. Danny: Ask mom and dad about today’s experiments. Danny: You’ll understand why. I’m gonna spend the night at Tuck’s. Jazz: Okay. See you tomorrow? Danny: Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow. Jazz: Love you.

Of course, Tucker was having a family night. He couldn’t crash that. And Sam’s parents had banned him from their house. Where would he spend the night?

And then he noticed it. Right outside the park glowed the sign: Two Ghost Motel.

He was on his feet and walking there before he’d even consciously made the decision to go. A glance around showed he was alone, that night had fully fallen on Amity so he let his transformation wash over him.

He reached the street and, for the first time, was staring directly at the motel rather than catching glimpses from a block or two away. The parking lot had a few cars in it, the oldest looking like it might’ve been from the twenties with the newest looking like it was ten or fifteen years old.

A glance in either direction showed no cars coming, so Danny crossed the street.

As soon as he stepped off the sidewalk and into the parking lot, Danny could feel a change in the air. It was nothing obvious, but something integral was different. The sounds of the city were muffled, the sense of life dulled. The air felt lighter and the door seemed to call to him. Most importantly, it was easier to push away the memories from his afternoon in the lab.

The sign, when he reached it, buzzed softly in the night. He held a hand up towards it and felt an echoing buzz under his skin.

He stared at the lights for a moment more before continuing towards the building at the other end of the lot. It hadn’t been repaved in ages and was riddled with cracks. But the plants that grew up through them weren’t the normal grasses and dandelions. He wished Sam were with him to help him identify them.

Instead he knelt down and pulled out his phone to take a picture. They glowed slightly in the night, their stems ectoplasm-green with blue leaves and red bulbs. Danny reached out to touch one, only for the bulb to open and snap at his finger.

Danny laughed in surprise as he pulled his hand away. Something inside him relaxed. A night away would do him good and maybe he’d see other cool things besides the flowers.

The motel itself was a long, two-story building. The main entrance was smack in the middle of the building with rows of rooms extending to either side. Next to the office, a passageway through the building led to the back side of the building and had stairs leading up to the second level. It was clearly old, worn in the way only time could do.

The office door wasn’t automatic and the handle stuck slightly under his hand when he tried to turn it. But just a little bit of force had it opening.

Inside, the carpet was worn, beaten down and dull in the middle. The walls were covered in floral wallpaper rather than paint. Against one wall buzzed an ice machine and against the other sat a vending machine. A man with slicked back hair and a cane stared at the vending machine without moving. A two-seater couch was next to the vending machine with a wooden coffee table in front of it. Two women sat side-by-side on it: one in modern jeans and a windbreaker, the other in an old-fashioned dress that looked like it may have come from the sixties. They were holding magazines, but in the time it took Danny to look around, neither had flipped a page.

Cutting off the back of the room was a long desk, behind which sat a closed door. A woman sat behind the desk. Her blonde hair was cut shoulder length and curled inward. She wore bright red lipstick and heavy eye shadow. But strangest of all, she wasn’t moving. Her chest didn’t raise with her breathing, she didn’t shift in her seat. The women on the couch, at least, made the little movements people make when they’re engrossed in their reading. And the man at the vending machine was tapping his fingers on his cane as he tried to decide what to get.

But the woman at the counter was utterly still.

“Evening.” Danny’s voice was loud in the small room.

The woman in modern clothes cocked her head slightly as if trying to hear a distant noise.

“What are you reading?” Danny asked her.

She just shook her head slightly and looked back at her magazine. Slowly, she turned a page.

“Oh-kay,” said Danny to himself. He walked past them as he made his way to the desk.

As soon as he reached it, the woman came to life. She turned and smiled broadly at him and her finger started tapping on a paper log book that sat in front of her. “Well hello there. Welcome to the Two Ghost Motel!” She had a slight southern accent. “What can I do you for?”

“Uh, well. I heard you might have a room I could rent for the night.”

“Sure do,” she agreed with a nod. “Can certainly set you up with one of those.” She looked him up and down then nodded to herself. “Ah, yes. We knew you might need a place soon so we made sure you’d be able to find us. Glad to see you finally stopped in.”

“What, uh, what do you know about me?”

“Same as we know about any of our potential patrons, sweetie. That you’re a restless spirit that isn’t ready to pass on yet. Two Ghost was set up to give you a place to rest while you’re still on Earth.”

“How much would it cost for one night?”

The receptionist threw back her head and laughed. Her teeth were sharper than a normal human’s. Behind him, another voice joined in the laughter. Danny turned to see the modern-dressed woman was finally looking at him, though it was only to laugh at him.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and smiled self-consciously. “I take it that was a stupid question?”

“Honey, there’s no charge for spending the night. Wouldn’t be much of a place to rest if we forced y’all to pay when no dead has money.”

“Right. So do you want anything in exchange? I’m pretty good at fixing things up.”

“All we want is for you to have a good night’s rest.” She turned the log book around. “I’ll just need you to put down your name here and I’ll give you your key.” She waved her hand to indicate a pen that was chained to the desk.

Danny grabbed it and hesitated just a moment before signing “Phantom” on the page. The ink was ectoplasm-green.

She took the book back and made her own marks before smiling at him. “Well that’s all in order. Now just to get you your room key.” She opened a drawer which was filled with a number of small envelopes, each with a handwritten number on them. She flipped through a few before stopping on one, seemingly at random, and pulling it out. “You’ll be in room 214. Leave the office, take a right. You can’t miss the stairs. Climb ‘em, continue to the back side of the motel, and take a right.”

Danny took the envelope from her. On it, the numbers 214 were written, with Two Ghost Motel in cursive below it. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Enjoy your stay at Two Ghost,” she smiled one more time at him, then looked down at her logbook and froze exactly as she had been when he’d first entered.

“I appreciate your help. You sure there’s nothing I can do in exchange for the room?”

But the woman didn’t stir again. Danny shifted from foot to foot. Should he try and wake her? Was she hurt? Was this a normal ghost thing? He tapped on the desk again.

“Ma’am?”

No response.

Danny looked down at his key and back at the woman. Hesitantly, he turned towards the door, but he couldn’t help looking back frequently. He paused by the women on the couch, but neither looked up from their magazines. At the vending machine, he peered around the man.

“Do they have anything that looks good?” he asked.

The man didn’t move, so Danny shifted until he was standing right next to him and could look inside the machine.

The bottom two rows were filled with drinks, water and Gatorade took up space right next to shots of ectoplasm. And were those beers? What? Above those were a few types of nuts and candy bars and chips. Danny only recognized half the brands.

Then he noticed the package of bottle caps. “Oh man, been ages since I’ve had some bottle caps. Mind if I grab those if you haven’t decided yet?”

The man hummed and moved to the side so Danny could get to the bill input and number pad.

“Thanks, sir! Appreciate it.” He pressed the numbers for the candy to see the price, but the machine whirled to life and it was dropped down without requiring Danny to put in a single cent. “Oh, shit, did I just use your money? What do you like? I’ll get it for you as an apology.”

“I don’t… I don’t remember,” said the man. His voice was very quiet, but clear. Danny couldn’t place his accent.

“Are you looking for a snack or a drink? Sweet or savory?”

“My son always pretended he didn’t like sweets. I was going back to him. How did I end up here?”

“Dunno, sir. But if you like candy, I’d recommend the skittles if you want chewy, m&m’s if you want basic chocolate.” He opened his own package. “Hold out your hand, I’ll give you a few of these so you can see if you like them.”

The man did and looked at his own hand as if he’d never seen it before. Danny turned his package so a few bottlecaps fell out. “Thank you,” said the man.

“Sure thing. Hope you enjoy!”

The man stared at his hand a moment longer before bringing one to his mouth and chewing the candy with a pensive look on his face. “I think I remember these, but it’s been so long. Thank you.”

“Anytime. My name’s Phantom; I’m in room 214 if you need anything.”

“Phantom. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Tom.”

“Well, Mr. Tom, hope you find something to eat that you like.”

Tom hummed and turned back to look at the vending machine. Danny took one last look at the receptionist, still entirely frozen, before slipping out the door. He slipped the package of bottlecaps into his pocket; he’d eat them in his room when he could take his mask off. In the passageway to the back of the motel, two boys played jacks under a flood light.

Danny couldn’t help but pause to watch them. He’d tried playing a few times when he was younger, but Tucker wasn’t into the game and none of the other kids had been willing to spend enough time with the weird ghost-hunter’s kid to teach him.

He waited until the kid who’d been picking up the jacks tossed them back on the ground before asking, “So, who’s winning?”

Both boys looked up at him with the same blank expression. The one on the right was a red-head while the one on the left was brown haired. They were about the same age, maybe ten years old and Danny wondered what happened to bring them here.

“I never learned to play,” Danny admitted, waving a hand to indicate their game. “So I don’t know how to tell. Or, is there even a winner in jacks? I might be completely off the mark.”

The red-head raised his hand. “I’m wining. I’m on the foursies round. Alan is only on twosies.”

“Matt cheated and made me drop my jacks.”

“It wasn’t cheating, just strategy,” protested Matt.

“Cheating,” repeated Alan.

“Prove it by beating your threesies round perfectly this time.”

Danny smiled to himself as the boys returned to their game and ignored his presence entirely.

“How’d you do that?” asked someone behind him.

Danny spun around to see a boy around his own age on the stairs leaning over the railing. He had dark hair and light eyes and was dressed in modern jeans and a t-shirt.

“Do what?” asked Danny.

“Get them to talk to you. Everyone ignores me entirely.”

Danny glanced back at the two boys who were entirely absorbed in their game and not paying Danny or the stranger any attention. “They’re mostly ignoring me, too.”

The kid rolled his eyes. “But they still talked to you. I haven’t even gotten that much.”

Danny shrugged. “I just asked them about their game.”

He groaned and kicked at the railing. “I’ve tried that. Who’re you, anyway?”

“I’m Phantom. Staying here for the night because, well, just because. Who’re you?”

“Jay.”

Danny cocked his head. “Like the bird?”

Jay’s eyes widened in surprise, then he grinned back. “That’s it! I knew I was forgetting something. I’m a bird. Thanks, Phantom.”

Danny laughed. “Sure thing, birdie.” He adjusted his backpack. “Let me put this down. I’m in room 214. What’s there to do in this motel?”

Jay shrugged. “More if you can get the other people to talk to us. But the TV always has your favorite show or movie on and the vending machine in the office always has your favorite snacks.”

As Danny made his way up the stairs, Jay fell in step besides him. “What’s your favorite movie?” he asked.

Jay shrugged again. “Dunno. But every time I turn on the TV it’s playing.”

“What did you watch last, then?”

Jay hesitated a moment and when Danny looked at him, he was frowning. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “I don’t forget things. My d— Someone made sure I could give accurate reports. But I don’t remember.” He looked at Danny with his brow furrowed. “Why don’t I remember?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, when we get to my room, we can turn on the TV and see what comes on.”

Jay brightened immediately at the suggestion. “Duh! That’ll remind me. Thanks, Phantom! Come on, your room’s this way. We’re neighbors; I’m in 215.” He jogged the rest of the way up the stairs so Danny had to speed up, too.

At the top of the stairs, Jay took a right and Danny’s door was several down.

“Home sweet home,” he said, gesturing to the door.

Danny laughed as he unlocked it. “So how long have you been here?” He pushed open his door and took in the space. The carpet looked like it hadn’t been upgraded since the seventies. A double bed sat against one wall covered by a faded, green paisley quilt. A low dresser and box TV against the opposite wall. Most of the wall facing the walkway was taken up with a large window, though the closed blinds kept it private.

It wasn’t until Danny stepped in and dropped his bags on the bed that he realized Jay had neither responded nor followed him in.

“Birdie? Jay? You okay?”

Jay was frozen outside the door staring out into the distance away from the motel. The back of the motel had very few lights, and the night made it seem like there was nothing out there but endless black. When Danny called out, Jay shook himself and grinned as he entered the room and sat down on Danny’s bed with enough force to bounce. “Course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You spaced out there for a minute.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “No I didn’t. Where’s your remote?” Before Danny could do anything, Jay was already standing and picking it up from the dresser. He turned on the TV. “Oooh, the Godfather! Told you it always has your favorite movie.”

“So The Godfather is your favorite?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it all the way through.”

“Then you’re in for a treat! Come on, sit next to me. I’ll make sure you notice all the good parts.”

Danny did as told. Which is when he remembered he still had the candy. Wordlessly, he held it out to Jay who grinned as he took a few to snack on.

-----

Chapter 2

Hope you enjoyed chapter 1! This was so much fun to write. I loved taking part in the event so much. Please consider checking out the rest of the art and fics from this event because there are so many talented people who took part. (My reading list is gonna be filled for at least the rest of the year, no lie.)

Just search the tag #ectoimplosion2023 to see what I mean.

#dpxdc #ectoimplosion2023 #danny fenton #jason todd #the two ghost motel #my writing #danny has electricity trauma #and seeing his parents make then destroy a proto-ghost #... #well it wasn't good for him #but will where he ends up be any better?

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

A little Bucky request, if you'd be so kind 🥰 I'm thinking maybe neighbour!reader (but I'm not fussy!) and they leave little secret admirer valentine's gifts for Bucky as he always seems so lonely when they see him 💔

Winter

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

[a/n] thanks you so much for this request! I wont lie it's been so long since I've written I found it a little bit difficult to fulfil this request however, that was the point of Valn-Cries so here we go. also side note I didn't know if you wanted fem!reader so I made them gn! hope you don't mind.

Valen-Cries masterlist available here!

Winter wasn’t just a season, it was a state of mind. It was the cold and bitter breeze of doubt that crept in at any waking moment. It was the raging storm that destroyed everything in sight, leaving nothing behind but memories of what once was and could’ve been. 

Winter lived through the sticky heat of summer like a bug bite that wouldn’t go away. In the spring it blossomed like a forbidden fruit, waiting and praying to release its venom. In the Autumn it was the stains at the bottom of your coffee cup, no amount of scrubbing or detergent could get rid of it. 

Winter was everlasting and nothing could slow it down. 

Or at least thats what he thought until he saw you

Bucky had first met you on an unassuming Tuesday evening. He’d received word that Bruce wanted to use him as the subject for his newest experiment so in Bucky fashion before listening to anything else, he’d stormed off towards the lab, ready to tear into the green giant for thinking he could treat him like another lab rat. 

Profanities spilled from his lips as he entered the room, only to be stunned into silence once he saw you sitting there, all pretty and tiny like an angel in contrast to the heavy machinery that laid scattered around the lab. Clearly flustered you’d stuttered out a jumble of words, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes as you waited for his response. Yet whatever you’d said clearly fell on deaf ears as he simply turned around and stormed back out 

Half way up the hall he’d paused, needing a moment to catch his breath as regret coursed through his veins. He hadn’t meant to come across as rude but just being in your presence had knocked the air right out of his lungs, suffocating him in the most delicious way. He could already imagine how gentle your touch was, the way you’d plant soft kisses across his cheeks before whispering sweet affirmations into his ears.

His daydreams however, were embarrassingly cut short as the stiff material of his jeans grew tight, a distant but familiar feeling of arousal building up as he quickly rid the thought of you from his mind. Both disgusted and intrigued that his confusing feelings awoke this primal need in him, a feeling he hadn’t felt in decades. 

It was a feeling, among other things he couldn’t afford to acknowledge. It was so much simpler to feel nothing than everything. After all he’d been through he’d worked his way to a place of peace about himself, the world around him and his past, these feelings would only complicate and ruin him again. Therefore, they didn’t exist. 

But of course that was easier said than done.

With Valentines approaching he couldn’t help but feel somewhat dejected, knowing that before your arrival he never would’ve bothered with such a trivial holiday, but now it was all he could think about. Questions and doubt clouding his vision, wondering who the special person in your life was. Was he rich and handsome like Tony? Or maybe he was goofy and clumsy like Sam. Did he shower you with affection? Or maybe he took you for granted. Either way it tortured him to think it could never be him, no matter how much he wished it would.

—-

In the passing months that you’d joined the team, you’d seen Bucky grow colder and quieter in your presence. His usually devastatingly beautiful baby blue eyes and boyish grin had become hollow and lifeless. With each small interaction he’d curled into himself and run away, as if disgusted by you. 

It was difficult not to take it personally, especially since you were so enamoured with him yet you persevered hoping he would soon warm up to you. Although, this was to no avail. You figured if he hated you he could love the illusion. 

This became a favourite past time of yours, leaving behind crumbs of your devotion in the form of unlimited snacks and mystery deliveries. Watching from afar as the usual scowl that graced his face morphed into a faint smile. This was enough to satisfy you for a while yet you began to think bigger.

Valentines was a mere couple weeks away and you’d decided to bite the bullet and admit to Bucky that it was you admiring him in secret. The worst case scenario was that things would stay exactly as they were, there would be no need to interact with him and in the off chance you did, you knew how to be civil. While the best case was he didn’t hate you quite as much, perhaps you could even be friends if not lovers, anything but this weird limbo of emptiness was an improvement.

—-

Bucky had woken up to a knock a quiet knock at his door, unsure if he was hearing correct but getting up and answering anyway. He was met with an empty hallway, ready to simply slam the door shut until his eyes landed on the note taped to his door. It was decorated with a little sticker in the left corner saying ‘even winter has its sunny days’, in any other case he would’ve scoffed at the obnoxious pink of the paper and sappy phrased but a part of him knew this wasn’t just any letter.

Needless to say Bucky realised that winter really did have its sunny days.

 While winter could be cold and unforgiving, it was also the warmth and comfortability of a newly lit fire. Winter was the sickly sweetness of hot cocoa that soothed you in the harshest of storms. Winter was Bucky and you were his Sunshine that showed him what more winter could be.

#bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fic #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #pbs-thedesecrated