#Ashley Zukerman x reader
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➪the one where it’s time for nick to sacrifice another resident of shadyside, but calls his old flame instead. (request, altered slightly)
First time writing 1994 Nick <3 (I find both versions fine, btw)
Warnings: Fear Street related topics, mentions of the devil, mentions of death, character death, blood, Tommy Slater has an ax (enough said), rituals, swearing, time jump, flashbacks, descriptions of blood, murder, kissing, Nick isn’t evil
Word Count: 3.5k
1978
Nick nearly tripped over the many large rocks that littered the ground of the woods, the flashlight he gripped tightly doing very little to light his way. He balanced himself quickly before resuming his fast pace.
He hadn’t seen you in quite some time and it was slowly driving him insane. He had no idea where you were or if you were okay, and the thought of something terrible happening to you had his hands shaking and his heart racing.
Why hadn’t he made sure you were somewhere safe before he made the sacrifice?
He fucked up, he knew that.
He wasn’t thinking clearly.
He just said the first name that came to mind.
And worst of all, he couldn’t fucking find you.
-
The cave was dark, even with the many candles he lit.
Endless thoughts ran through his head, guilt, worry and fear beginning to take over his body.
What if he forgets what to say? What if he picks a bad sacrifice? What if-
“Thomas Slater,”
Fuck.
Well…
It was done.
He hadn’t meant to say Tommy’s name. He actually liked the boy quite a bit and had no intention of picking him to be the sacrifice, but his name just slipped out.
Before he blew out the candle, he quickly checked to see if it worked. When he saw the newly carved name in the stone, he knew he had succeeded and he had officially carried on the family legacy.
“Fuck,” he muttered, blowing out the candle and running up the stairs to find you as fast as he could.
What did he do?
-
“Y/n!” He called out for what felt like the hundredth time. It had been a while since he saw Kurt take the bus full of kids and drive as far away as he could from the camp. He knew you weren’t on it. “Where the fuck are you?!”
Man, he fucked up.
If anything were to happen to you, he knew he would never forgive himself. This was completely and entirely his doing and the amount of blood that was on his hands was endless.
He could only hope that your blood wouldn’t join the many campers’.
Just as he opened his mouth to call out to you again, movement up ahead caught his attention. “Y/n?” In the clearing, leaning against the rather large tree, was you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly, as if you had been running, and your head was bleeding. But you were alive. “Y/n!”
At the sound of your name, you shot up from the tree, your eyes scanning everywhere in the direction of where the voice came from. Your eyes meet Nick’s and tears involuntarily form in them, a broken smile forming on your lips. “Nick,” you call back as he lets out a relieved sigh, closing his eyes as an attempt to calm himself down.
You were okay.
Neither of you saw Tommy creep out from behind the tree, his hands swinging the ax up, until it was too late. Nick opened his eyes just as the ax swung down, his hand letting go of the flashlight. “Y/n!”
You turned around and your chest was immediately pierced with the ax. Your mouth opened in shock, blood quickly beginning to pool on your tongue. Nick screamed from behind you, but you couldn’t focus on anything as you fell back due to the force of Tommy’s kick he gave to your abdomen, pulling the ax from your chest in the process.
Nick felt like he couldn’t run fast enough, despite his legs moving the second he saw Tommy. He watched in horror as Tommy raised his arms above his head once more, burying the ax into your chest again, this time even deeper.
Your eyes closed as your chest was impaled for the third time, blood pouring from your mouth and staining your lips.
Tommy was about to go for his fourth swing when Nick finally reached you, his eyes frantically searching for something to use as a weapon. He reached for a broken branch, not noticing how heavy it actually was as he used both hands to swing it up from its spot on the ground. It makes contact with Tommy’s head and he drops the ax as he stumbles over himself.
Nick grabbed it, kicking Tommy’s leg to knock him to the ground before he swung the ax down and into his face. The force of it split the bag, and most likely his head, in half.
Tommy stopped moving almost instantly, his body going limp and matching yours.
Nick threw the ax a few feet away and was at your side within seconds. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, his eyes looking down at the three ax wounds that scarred your chest. “Y/n,” he said, his thumbs wiping away the blood that smeared your chin. When you didn’t answer him, or even move an inch for that matter, Nick felt his heart drop. “No, Y/n.”
He moved one hand to your neck, his fingers hopelessly feeling for a heartbeat that wasn’t there.
“No, no, not you. Not like this,” he said, his eyes tearing up as he moved his hands to your blood covered chest. He had never done this before, but he needed to act fast before your body shut down completely. “Come on, come back.”
He applied quick bursts of pressure to your chest, ignoring how your once white tank top was now stained dark red, before he moved his hands to your face. He used one hand to tilt your head up while keeping your mouth open and the other to cover your nose as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, blowing air into your mouth.
“Come on!” He yelled desperately, resuming the compressions to your chest. Why wasn’t it working? He could feel the adrenaline seeping into him as he leaned back down to blow air into your mouth again. “I’m so sorry. Please. Come back to me.”
His hands were shaking as they returned to your chest for the third time, his ability to apply enough pressure faltering as the seconds passed. He felt his hope draining and his hands stopped the compressions as his head leans down to rest his forehead against yours.
Just as he gave up, he felt your chest press up against his hands and your mouth opened. You cough, blood spitting out onto Nick’s face as he quickly pulls back. His hands hold onto your face, careful not to move you too much or touch the wound on your head, as raspy breaths escape you.
You can’t bring yourself to do anything, let alone wrap your arms around the boy above you like you so desperately wanted to. “You’re okay,” Nick mumbles, leaning down to kiss your forehead before brushing your hair out of your face. He grabs your bloody hand in his and brings it to his chest. “You’re okay.”
-
1994
It was time again.
What more could he want?
He lived in a huge house, had the best job in town, and had everyone in Sunnyvale kneeling at his every need. But he didn’t associate with any of them, nor did he involve himself in any relationship.
How much power can one bloodline hold?
He didn’t want to do this anymore, but he was a family man. His father, his father’s father and so on had been continuing this ritual for centuries, how could he ruin it just because he was feeling guilty?
His leg bounces uncontrollably, his elbows resting on his knees as his laced hands press against his mouth.
There was no choice. He had done the sacrifice willingly for the first time back in ‘78. He had to do it.
Or did he?
He shot up from his place on the couch, striding over to the nearest phone.
He dials the familiar number, one he had dialed countless of times over the years, and brings the phone to his ear. His eyes squeeze close as he waits for the call to go through, his breath hitching when a voice answers.
“Hello?”
He froze, his face heating up and his eyes shooting open.
The person waits a few seconds and when they hear nothing, Nick once again hears, “Hello?”
It sounded more impatient this time.
“Hi,”
The person goes silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Nick…is that you?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “It’s me.”
-
The knocks on the door were hesitant, he could tell.
Nick opened the door, revealing his summer love. The only girl who ever had a hold on his heart and continued to for nearly two decades.
He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his house for the first time ever. You stepped into the entryway, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes stayed glued to the floor.
You looked even more beautiful than he remembered, but you were 16 years younger at the time. Guilt filled him at the fact that he never went to go see you in person after that night. He didn’t even visit you in the hospital.
He wanted to, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you after what happened. He was to blame for it all and he knew he would feel worse about everything the second he saw you again.
That was proved by your appearance now.
Nick didn’t know what to say as you stood a few feet away from each other. “Thanks for coming,” he finally said after standing in the awkward silence for a few more seconds.
“Of course,” you say back, forcing out a small smile.
“It’s good to see you,” Nick says, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “It’s been a long time.”
You nod, looking down at your hands. “I guess we’re both to blame for that,”
“I guess so,”
You hadn’t seen Nick since the night he saved your life all those years ago. It had been sixteen full years since you last saw him and the reality of it all had you feeling light headed. He looked good. Very different from the last time you saw him in person, but good nonetheless. Seeing him on your small TV screen didn’t compare to the real thing at all. He was more matured, his features showing how much he had gone through since becoming a cop.
You talked every once in a while, mainly him calling to check up on you, but he hadn’t called in a few years at this point. You had just assumed that he had grown tired of hearing your life updates and stopped reaching out to you.
The tense silence returned as you shifted your weight between your two legs, looking anywhere but at him.
Fuck it.
“It’s going to happen again,”
You looked over at him quickly, confusion lacing your features. Shaking your head, you ask, “What is?”
Nick sighed heavily, looking at the ground. He couldn’t look you in the eyes when he told you all that he’s done. “What happened at Nightwing….” He trailed off. “It’s going to happen again.”
You shake your head again, confused beyond words at this point. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’m the one who did it,”
It went completely silent as Nick finally gathered the strength to look at you.
You still looked confused, but he could see you slowly start to put the pieces together. “What do you mean you’re the one who did it?”
He didn’t answer you. How could he? He had just confessed to being the one responsible for all the deaths that occurred at Nightwing, including yours. Granted, he brought you back, but even that was because of the ritual.
And somehow, you knew that. “I was hacked into with an ax..” You trailed off, trying to make him meet your eyes. “And you brought me back. How did you bring me back?”
“With CPR,” Nick answered. It was true, but it was also completely irrational.
“Don’t lie,” you nearly whisper. “Not to me. How did you bring me back?”
Nick felt his heart falter slightly at the look you gave him, sighing deeply before he told you, “By sacrificing Tommy’s soul to the devil,”
That was the quickest way to put it, and the quickest way for you to understand, Nick found out, as he watched your eyes widened before they filled with tears. You stared at him, shock and fear all over your face as you took a step back. “What do you mean by ‘sacrificing Tommy’s soul to the’-...to the..” You couldn’t bring yourself to repeat his words and look away from him. “Who are you?”
Even though you mainly asked that question to yourself and not to Nick, he still reached out to you. “It’s me, it’s Nick,” when his hand touched yours, you pulled back quickly, making his heart hurt for a second. “The one who saved your life all those years back.”
“By sacrificing someone else’s,” your voice was steadily rising and you were surprised at how much you believed his words, despite how crazy they sounded. It made sense, now that you thought of it. There was no way Tommy just snapped and decided to go on a killing spree, and there was no way Nick brought you back when your chest had three massive slashes in it with just CPR.
“I didn’t want to,” Nick mumbled, giving you the space you clearly needed. “I didn’t mean to say his name, I just panicked. Tommy was a good person and he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
You shake your head, your anger dissolving as the sadness crept in. “Why?” You hesitantly asked. “How, why-…how?”
“I’ll tell you everything,” Nick said. “Just please, don’t leave me right now.”
Nick saw your conflicted expression before you sighed and followed him into the living room, sitting on the chair across from where he sat on the couch.
-
Nick told you everything, from start to finish. And what scared him was that you didn’t interrupt him once, nor did you say anything after he was done. You just sat there, your hands covering your mouth and elbows pressed to your knees, matching his position from before.
You couldn’t look at him as you took in all the things he had just told you.
This had to be a dream right? No, this had to be a nightmare, right?
How could the guy you fell for when you were a teen be a Satanist? How could you not have seen the signs?
Clearing your throat, you try to find the right words to say. “So-” you start but immediately stop. You glance at him before looking over at the fireplace, the orange flames lighting the dark room. You inhale quickly, keeping your chin tucked behind your hands, before you resume what you were going to ask. “What happens if you don’t sacrifice someone?”
“Sunnyvale will see its first tragedy in over three hundred years,” Nick answered simply. “And they’ll keep coming after that. I’ll lose everything.”
You hold eye contact with him. “What happens if you die?”
“The same thing,”
“Well, then what-” you cut yourself off as you lean back in the chair, your arms falling on the rests at either side of you. “What happens if you end up deciding to sacrifice someone.” You didn’t phrase it like a question, mainly because you already knew the answer and because you wanted to hear him say it again.
“Shadyside will continue its poverty, have a higher crime rate than normal and it will see another local turn into a ruthless killer,” Nick said everything with a straight face and you wondered how he kept this all to himself for nearly two decades.
Your shoulders became less tense as you asked, “What are you going to do?” The only response you got was the sound of the embers cracking as they burned. “Are you going to do the ritual? Sacrifice someone?”
He glanced over at you, your grey sweater falling off your shoulder without you realising. He saw the start of one of the three large scars that lined your chest and his heart dropped. He never did get to see what they looked like now, not that he’d want to see visible evidence of what he caused, but he knows you wear them beautifully.
Nick looked at the ground as he laced his fingers together, draping his arms over his knees. “I wanted you to hear it from me first, before the rumors started,” he said after a few seconds. “That’s why I asked you to come over.”
Your brows furrowed as you leaned forward. “What rumors?”
“I’m not going to go through with it,” he said, looking up at you. You leaned back in shock, your brows raising now as you took in what he said. “I can’t do it. I’ve already done enough. I’ve already taken too much. My father, my grandfather…this has gone on long enough.”
When he is finished, you look him over before slowly standing up. Nick watched your every move as you stepped around the coffee table and sat next to him, close enough so that your knees were touching. “What about the legacy?”
“Fuck the legacy,” he said instantly. “Fuck the power, fuck the wealth, all of it. It shouldn’t have been mine in the first place. None of this should’ve been mine.” He was referring to the massive living room you were in, equivalent in size of your entire house back in Shadyside.
You glance around the room before swallowing your nervousness and take his hand in yours. You could feel his eyes on you as you lace your fingers together, and for a second, you’re brought back to the night under the tree, with Nick’s hand being held tightly by your bloodied one. Slowly, his hand relaxes in yours as you sit in silence.
That was the Nick you knew. The one who saved your life and gave you a second chance.
“What happens now?” You ask after a few seconds.
Nick looks over at you and you hold eye contact, seeing a younger version of himself in his eyes for a split second. “I wait,” he simply said.
You tighten your hold on his hand, sitting up a bit straighter. “Then let’s wait,”
-
You and Nick stumbled into the Science and Nature cabin, laughs leaving both your mouths as you try to avoid bumping into the tables and shelves. You stop in the middle of the room and watch as he tucks the keys back in his pocket. “Thanks for bailing me out back there,” you say and fail to hide the smile on your lips.
Despite being on different teams, Nick convinced some of the Sunnyvale kids to let him guard you instead of them. The second their backs were turned, he grabbed your hand and ran, taking you with him as he tried to find a hiding place. He ultimately decided on taking you to the science cabin, as he had the keys to lock and unlock the door. You’d be able to hide there until the end of the game.
“No problem,” Nick answered, looking over at you. “I hate the color war game.”
“Me too,” you say and tug at the hem of your blue ‘color ‘78 war’ shirt. Glancing over at Nick, you tug the shirt more until it’s over your head and discarded on the floor. You were left in your white tank top and light blue jean shorts, showing more skin than you were used to, but you couldn’t stand to wear it any longer. “Hope you don’t mind.”
Nick quickly shook his head, averting his eyes from your form once you looked over at him. “No, not at all,” he mumbled, looking down at the floor. The sound of kids laughing was heard outside the cabin, making both you and Nick look out the window. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you to sit down behind one of the shelves. “As long as we stay hidden and quiet, they won’t find us.”
You nodded, trying to ignore the fact that he hadn’t pulled his hand away from yours.
“What?” He asked after he caught you staring at him.
Shaking your head, you move your hand so your fingers are laced with his. Nick only then noticed that he had failed to drop your hand, not that either of you minded, anyway. “Nothing,” you say quietly. “Can I just try something?”
Nick nodded, his heartbeat picking up slightly when your free hand came up to caress the left side of his face. His eyes closed the second you leaned in and connected your lips, kissing him and unknowingly taking his breath away for a couple of seconds.
It was a quick kiss, just to test it out.
You share a look before his free hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear, leaning to down kiss you again, this time for much longer.
-
Time went on until the clock read 12:01 AM.
Your lips didn’t break away from Nick’s for a second, your hands gripping the hem of his shirt while his caressed the sides of your face.
The sound of glass breaking outside was heard, followed by the sound of one of Nick’s neighbors screaming. Not even then did you pull away from him.
You kissed him for who knows how long as Sunnyvale slowly fell apart just outside of his house.
The legacy was shattered, the power the Goode’s held for centuries weakening as the seconds passed, but Nick couldn’t bring himself to care.
He should’ve known that his life would end up here. Powerless, hated and blamed but with you. He could live with what happened, just as long as you never left him alone to deal with the baggage that came with being a Goode.
As he deepened the kiss, pushing into you slightly, he had a feeling that this was just the beginning.
-
DISCLAIMER: a lot of this was made up by yours truly :)
#nick goode fluff#nick goode smut#nick goode#nick goode imagines#nick goode x reader#nick goode 1978 smut#nick goode 1978#nick goode 1978 x reader#nick goode 1978 imagines#nick goode 1994#nick goode 1994 x reader#nick goode 1994 imagines#nick goode 1994 smut#ted sutherland x reader#ashley zukerman x reader#Smut#angst#fluff#fear street 1978 imagines#Fear Street x reader#fear street imagines#fear street 1978#fear street#fear street 1994
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It Had to be Done
Nick Goode x reader
Requested by: anon. Can I request a Nick Goode with a love quinn type of wife who is extremely giving and liked by people and an ideal partner, but she has not hesitation killing to protect her family including keeping her husband's secret safe?
Warnings: mentions of killing, blood, death
A/n: okay, this is my first fic I'm SO proud of, I like it so much, besties.
He was laying in your bed with you sound asleep in his arms; your delicate hand laying there on his chest just above his heart. The night was in its full glory; moon shining through the curtains, light illuminating your beautiful face. Nick looked at you and kissed your forehead, trying not to wake you up. Moments like this were very rare nowadays, with his job and your want to make Sunnyvale even better for your future kids.
Kids. He couldn’t believe he was thinking about it; not just dreaming but really considering it. Before he married you, Nick promised himself to never get married and never have kids; he didn’t want them to become just like him. But meeting you was what changed his life forever. His emotions, his motivation, his plans. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to him. Before you, he thought Ziggy was the person he couldn’t fall out of love with. She was always there, in the back of his mind, constantly reminding him of his failure as a son, as a boy and as a man.
From the very beginning, you never treated him the way he was treating himself; you never spoke or even thought lowly of him, telling him every day that he’s the person who’s making their city better and better every day. Nick couldn’t remember a day without you telling him that he’s the smartest and the most handsome man you’ve ever met. With you by his side he was happy to the point of being afraid to wake and realize that his sick mind just created you out of nowhere, mixing all the traits that could compose a perfect woman, and that all that was just a dream.
The opportunity of seeing you every day, waking up by your side, talking to you was something he wouldn’t trade for the world. The moment he told you about his not so little secret, he was scared to death of you turning your back to him and never going back. But you surprised him yet again. He’ll never forget your soft hands on his cheeks, your soft quiet voice saying that you’ll never leave him, no matter what. Nick still remembers your tentative steps and careful touches when you explored the place you thought was just a basement. You never brought it up again.
You only asked Nick about it when the Shadyside mall incident happened; his answer was simple, “It had to be done”.
You wouldn’t have any more questions, but you started to see a particular teenage girl pretty often. After the very touching ceremony in memory of those who died tragically in the mall, you joined Nick, having a little hope to spend some time with your husband alone, but something happened in the woods. Stupid teenagers couldn’t keep it easy, you thought. You sat there in sheriff’s car, just watching. Then, one night you couldn’t sleep and decided to drop something to eat for Nick and Kapinski. The whole gang was there, trying to say something about the skull mask killer trying to get them. You left the department and went straight home, hoping to see Nick there.
‘Did he choose the wrong one?’, was all you could think about, pacing the room again and again. When you confronted Nick about it, he told you that he has everything under control and that you don’t have to worry about it. Control, my ass.
That faithful night, you were down there, sitting beside the stones, hoping to never use the knife you were holding. Nick told you about the secret tunnels that connected some spots in both cities to his house, so you knew, if something happens, he will go here.
The moment you heard his voice, you started to follow it, then Deena’s scream followed. The moment you saw Nick, you knew something was wrong. He looked puzzled, scared, confused. He looked like he saw everything what has to do with the place you were currently in. Deena was clutching a knife in her hand, raising it higher and higher. It probably lasted seconds, but you were feeling like everything was too slow in that moment. Crying out, you were stabbing her in the back. It didn’t kill Deena, the adrenalin was still keeping her alive and fighting. The knife she wanted to pierce through Nick’s head, ended up injuring his neck. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him sitting down helplessly, trying to stop the blood that was oozing out of the wound. Deena turned to you and tried to stab you, with a weak scream leaving her mouth.
You pushed her, making the knife fall out of her hand, “You act all pure and noble, like you have reasons to just stab people! But when I do it, I'm some manic nut job!”. Deena was trying to grab her knife, “He’s a killer! Don’t protect him, just run away!” You took a moment to look at Nick, panic overflowing you for a second, as you saw him laying on the floor, eyed closed. You didn’t have more time to think about it, as you felt sharp pain in your shoulder. You cried out, holding your knife tighter and trying to hit the girl again. “He’s my husband! And I’ll kill anyone to protect him!” With the final blow to her chest, she dropped to the floor unconscious. You took a few deep breaths and ran to Nick.
He died that night. With horrible images running through his head, with the knowledge that he doesn’t have enough strength to protect you, the love of his life. Seeing you fight for him, for the life you two had. He didn’t see the final act, your eyes burning with rage as you finished off the teenager.
He only saw your bandaged shoulder, fabric red with blood in a few places. Saw your eyes glowing with unshed tears and feeling of relief. Saw white walls and ceiling in his hospital room. Something tight blocking his neck, nor allowing to turn it.
Horrible pictures he saw the night before seemed like a bad dream; only the pain in the neck reminding him that he should’ve been dead.
He felt your soft lips on the scar he hated so much. Nick blinked a few times, chasing away the horrible memories that took place two years ago. You kissed his jaw and stroked his chest, lowering your head above his heart. “Honey, you need to sleep, our kids will wake you up too early again”, your gentle voice was still laced with sleep. “Yeah, I was just thinking…how grateful I am to have you”, you felt his arm holding you a little bit tighter. You smiled and felt yourself slowly drifting back to sleep.
#fear street trilogy#fear street 1994#fear street 1978#fear street 1666#nick goode#nick goode imagine#nick goode x reader#ashley zukerman x reader#ashley zukerman
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another side note
i will be finishing the long awaited "oh honey" pt. 2
i will also start to write for Robert Langdon (he needs more fics because hes insanely gorgeous)
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Nick Goode PlayList
I made a playlist instead of writing the requests please don’t hate me my mind went somewhere else..
#multifandom imagines#fear street#nick goode x reader#nick goode imagine#ashley zukerman imagine#ashley zuckerman#ashley zukerman x reader#playlist#Spotify
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Romeo and Juliet
(Young Nick Goode x fem!reader)
Request: an imagine of young nick goode, where he declares himself to y/n, and then ends up rolling a cute smut and y/n is insecure about having small breasts
Warnings: sex, make-outs, camper x councillor (reader:18, Nick:19), (tell me if there’s anymore)
Word count: 1.4K
Your last year of camp! Being 18, it meant that by next year you would have finally outgrown camp, and would no longer have to spend your whole summer rotting away at this hell-hole they call camp Nightwing.
You exhaled, slinging your luggage over your shoulder as you hauled yourself off the bright yellow camp bus. You casually prepare yourself with a quick (mental) pep talk, trying to hype yourself up.
Soon enough though, your thoughts are broken by a strong voice from behind you. “Hey!” You turn around pulling one side of your headphones off. “Oh, hi.” You smile politely. “My name's Nick Goode, I’m a councillor for Sunnyvale, but I thought I’d introduce myself.”
“Oh thanks.” You smile, struggling to hold the weight of your luggage.
“Hey, let me help you with that.” Nick announces suddenly, practically pulling the bag from your arms.
“You really don’t need to.” You protest but he had already started walking.
Entering your cabin, Nick helped you place your bag onto your assigned bed. “Thanks.” You repeat for probably the tenth time already.
“No problem.” He smiles. “Just doing my job.”
“Anyways,” He breaks the awkward silence. “ You know where to find me. Also, supper is in a few hours so make sure you're ready, prime time for “friend-making”.” He laughed sarcastically, making his way out of your cabin. Well, he’s certainly a character.
——————
It had been around five weeks since the start of camp which unfortunately had not passed as fast as you had hoped.
As expected, not many friends had been made either. Not to mention, you had a tendency to hang around with councillors more than any of your fellow campers. One of these councillors had been, surprise, surprise, Nick Goode! Despite your initial thoughts on the boy, he had turned out to be quite a nice guy, who wasn’t afraid to bend some of the rules in your favour.
One of those rule-breaking nights took place probably only a week or two into your stay when you had spent the night in Nick's cabin. You spent the time complaining about a certain Sunnyvaler who thought it was a great idea to pour glue on your pillow one night, which ended with you having to chop your hair a few inches shorter than it was before.
Instead of how you thought he’d react, all half sympathetic turning it into some sort of moral tale or something, he instead suggested revenge by switching her shampoo with Nair hair removal cream. That was probably the moment when you realised Nick was someone you could trust. Someone you could rely on.
It was when out of the blue he had left a note on your bed asking to meet him at his cabin (7:00 pm) that you thought something was wrong. At first, you thought he was angry, but you had managed to stuff those ideas down, knowing that Nick was not the type to go around dealing with his anger in such a cryptic way.
All through dinner you had been paying no attention to your food, constantly scanning your eyes around the room, hoping to see Nick with no success.
Finally, once the hour had rolled around, you were probably the first to leave the mess hall. Speed walking to Nick's cabin, you approached, stopping for a moment outside the door before turning the handle, walking inside. Your eyes immediately locked with nicks as he stood across from you, arms crossed and a sort of unreadable expression on his face. “Hey Nick, was something wrong, you’re letter didn’t specify-“
“Y/N..” He unfolded his arms, walking closer to you. His arm reached past your shoulder, closing the door behind you. “There’s something I’ve really been needing to talk to you about.”
You're both now probably only a foot apart. Your heartbeat began to accelerate as you felt his breath against your cheek, his hand still on the door. It felt like he was closing in on you. Despite that, he hadn’t moved an inch.
Suddenly without warning, he stepped away, pacing back to where he previously was on the opposite side of the room. “You do know I like you?” He asks, turning around to look you in the eyes.
You laugh slightly, thinking the question's answer was already pretty obvious. “Yeah, of course, you’re always there for me, you’re a good friend.”
“No, not like that, I mean I like you.” Your eyes widen. How the hell had it only now hit you want he meant.
“And I don’t just mean that I have a small infatuation or something with you, I do really like you.” He steps forward, breaking the distance once again.
But before he can, you beat him to it, lifting your head up, connecting your lips with his. The look on his face was surprising, maybe his surprise was from the fact that you had enough balls to actually kiss him first or maybe from the fact that it was you kissing him. Either way, the small blush that tinted his cheeks made you smile, happy knowing you could make him feel that way.
Breaking through the embarrassment, he places his hand on the side of your face, caressing your cheek slowly as he presses a soft and gentle kiss on your lips.
“Don’t you think this is a bit Romeo and Juliet. y'know Shadysider and Sunnyvaler?” You giggle softly between kisses.
“Don’t drink the poison and I think we’ll be fine.” He laughs as you both wander over to his bed.
Dropping yourself onto his mattress, a rather large creak echoes throughout his cabin. You both laugh slightly into the kiss, knowing not to expect much better from camp Nightwing and it’s budget spending.
Straddling Nick, he places small kisses across the bottom of your abdomen as his fingers linger over the hem of your shirt. Nick senses your hesitation looking up at you through his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” He spoke into your skin, still trailing kisses along your waist.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
Sincerity in his eyes, his hands rode up your back. “Every part of you is so perfect, I don’t know how someone like you could ever be insecure.” He runs his fingers down your back. “I wish I could just show you how beautiful you look right now.”
Leaning down, you place a small but loving kiss on his lips before, still hesitantly, lifting your shirt over your head. “Thank you.”
——
His hands slowly caress your breasts, leaning over you as he slowly enters. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice sounding concerned and sincere.
“Yeah, you can keep going.” You nod as he begins moving, eventually picking up a fluid and steady pace.
You lay your head back as Nick places small kisses down your neck to your collarbone causing your lips to part and small sounds to escape your mouth.
“Nick, it feels so good.” You whine under your breath as you carefully run your fingers through his hair.
Nick's hand slowly traveled down to your sweet spot, slowly massaging the spot causing you to clutch your hands against the thin bed sheets. “Fuck, Nick.” You almost yell at the feeling.
His thrusts become sloppy as his eyebrows furrow. “You're doing so well.” He mutters making your body shiver slightly over the comment.
Eventually, you feel yourself tighten as you sense your climax is near. “Nick.” You whine under your breath causing him to quicken his pace ever so slightly and clench his hands around your waist, but not hard enough to hurt you as soft noises escape his mouth.
Finally, with a small series of thrusts you feel as he twitches inside you, signalling his climax.
Soon after, you also feel your height wash over you as his hand returns down to your spot and a finally whimper leaves your throat.
His lips connect with yours as your bodies part. “God, that was so good. You're so good.” He sighs into your lips,threading his fingers through yours..
The blanket loosely covered the both of you as your heart rates began to steady and your head rested against Nick's chest.
#fear street#fear street 1978#fear street 1994#fear street 1666#fear street x reader#nick goode x reader#nick goode#ashley zukerman#fanfic#fanfiction
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Too Late || Nick Goode
Request- Angst where Nick had an affair with a Shadysider, but he broke it off when reader expressed that they wanted to officially be with him, but he was against it because his family wouldn’t approve. Reader moves on, gets married and has kids and maybe Nick misses her but he’s too late and can’t do anything about it. Maybe readers kids get pulled into the whole saving Sam situation and the two reunite at the mall.
You were the last person Nick Goode ever expected to see standing in front of him as he entered the Shadyside Mall.
He knew your daughter had been involved in the events of the past few days. He’d interviewed her after the grocery store incident and had hoped that maybe you’d be the one to pick her up from the station. But instead it was your husband who came while Nick knew you were home with your young son.
Now you were standing in front of him for the first time in years and he couldn’t help but remember that young nineteen year old girl he’d once fallen in love with.
“I wish it could be like this all the time,” You sighed, looking up at the stars as Nick sat next to you.
“Me too,” He agreed.
You turned to look at him, “So why can’t it be? Why can’t we be together? I mean really together.”
“You know why.”
“Because of your parents? Who cares what they say. I want to be able to go for walks in the daylight or have picnics in the park. I want to be able to hold your hand in public where anyone can see. I want to go to the diner and share a milkshake with two straws like they do in the movies. I want to be with you Nick. For real.” You pleaded.
He yanked his hand away from yours and stood up, “It can’t be that way. It never can. Look you don’t understand. I have a reputation to withhold and- and being with a Shadysider just doesn’t fit in the picture.”
You stood up as well, “And what does that mean? You can’t be with me because of where I come from? If you knew that the whole time then what was the point of this?! What was the point of stringing me along all this time?!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care. How dare he make you fall in love with him when he knew the whole time how it would end.
“I don’t know!” He yelled back frustratedly, “But it was a mistake. I never should’ve let it get this far.”
“So that’s it? It’s over?” You asked softly, “We just go back to acting like we don’t know each other?”
His heart broke seeing you standing there with tears in your eyes but he couldn’t go back now. His parents would never approve of him being with you. Shadysiders were nothing but scum in their eyes.
Not only that but you were so innocent and pure. There was no way he would be able keep up with his family “tradition” and still wake up to your beautiful face in the morning, beaming at him as if he was the most amazing person you’ve ever known. And he sure as hell knew that he would never be able to have a son with you, knowing he’d have to pass on that burden some day.
Nick Goode loved you too much. He loved you too much to let you in. And so he had to let you go.
“Yes. I never should’ve gotten involved with you in the first place.” He turned and left, not allowing himself to look back for fear that if he saw the tears running down your face he’d break.
You never saw him after that night. A few months later you’d met a nice man at your waitressing job and a few years later the two of you were married. Soon after you welcomed your daughter and later on a son. You were content with your loving husband and children. Nick Goode was nothing more then a thing of the past in your eyes.
For Nick, however, you were always on his mind. You’d never seen all the times he would drive past your house. The times where you’d be in your backyard laughing and messing around affectionately with your husband as your children played. The times you taught your daughter to walk right on the sidewalk outside. The times you would be sitting on your front porch reading a children’s book to your son as your daughter rode her bike up and down the sidewalk and your husband worked on your car in the driveway.
Seeing you like that was both reassuring and painful for Nick. He loved seeing you happy but he hated that it wasn’t with him. He hated that it wasn’t him you goofed around with in your backyard. He hated that the kids you loved so much weren’t his.
Nick never really moved on from you. He’d tried to so many times but he couldn’t escape you.
Now, as you stood in front of him in that mall, he would give anything to see you smile at him again. To see that loving look at he’d seen you give your husband so many times, the same look you used to give him.
But you didn’t. You looked up at him with pure hatred. It was a look he’d never seen on you, a look he’d never hoped to see on you. Especially when it was directed at him. He felt like he could drop dead just from that look.
But he should’ve known. He’d messed with your daughter and that was unforgivable.
And now it was too late. You were there and you knew. You knew what he’d done. He couldn’t let you leave that mall alive.
At least he wouldn’t have to fake the emotion when reporting your death to the reporters.
Part Two
#fear street#fear street imagine#fear street x reader#nick goode#nick goode imagine#nick goode x reader#sheriff goode#multifandom#multifandom imagine#ashley zukerman#requests are open
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2. Interview with the Devil
⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ FEAR STREET ⎔ UNDER YOUR SKIN ⎔
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: dominance, teasing, control, mentions of female stimulation, language, mentions of abuse, violence, angst
A/N: sorry its been a while coming, I've been busy. Think i found all the warnings, don't hesitate to tell me.
← Chapter 1 ▫️ Chapter 3 →
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Last night was quiet, no arguing to disturb your sleep. You wish that meant you slept well. Instead sleep eludes you while thoughts of the encounter with Sheriff Goode invade your thoughts and when you wake in themorning you were sure it must have been a dream. The cautionary warning ticket reminds you otherwise as you stare at it on the coffee table sipping your morning tea. Your fingers tap the side of the mug, reflecting the anxiety swimming around your body. It is currently seven thirty in the morning, what time does the station open? Does it even shut? Were you expected dead on time at opening hour or were his words an empty threat. “If you fail to turn up at the station tomorrow…” You understood his meaning last night and believe him to be a man of his word, among other things. The tea mug slams down on the coffee table, sloshing hot liquid everywhere. You make a mental note to clean it up later as you rush to the bedroom to quickly change; pulling on a pair of old jeans, white t-shirt and a beige cardigan only managing to get a few buttons done before slipping some shoes on and heading for the front door. You take the stairs two at a time, being careful not to slip, but something grabs your attention halfway down. The door to the downstairs apartment is open. You hadn’t noticed in your frustration last night but the police must have kicked it down. The door is buckled near the keyhole, splitters coming out in every direction. Pity fills your chest as you think of the poor woman who lives there, how she’s been treated and now not even a secure place to live. The feeling is soon replaced when you remember she got you into this predicament with the Sheriff anyway.
With a renewed sense of urgency you exit the complex and start down the street at a half running half walking, somewhere in between, pace. It takes less than twenty minutes to get there on foot but you’re filled with dread as a police cruiser passes you by, only five minutes away from the station. You don’t dare look to see who is in the car, you already know. Shit. How bad can he possibly make your life? He’s only one man and there must be some higher official so he doesn’t abuse his power… or maybe not. You lose motivation and your pace slows, arriving at the station for eight fifteen. Begrudgingly you pull the heavy door open and walk into what feels like your doom. Hoping to be greeted by some annoyingly energetic young receptionist, you couldn’t be more wrong. He waits, propped against the welcome desk, one hand at his side while the other leans on the waist height counter. You wish he was wearing the usual smug grin, but instead he watches you with a cool expression, not portraying much emotion. He’s wearing his official business façade. What did you expect? Of course he would be, he’s at work. He doesn’t say anything before glancing at the clock on the wall above you playing it calm and collected. Finally you give in, speaking first: “Should we proceed?” you prompt eager for his attention to be elsewhere. Without speaking he lifts his free hand to point in the direction of an interview room, not needing words to show his authoritative energy which sparks nerves in you. You stand at a stalemate for a few seconds, neither one of you moving first. He shows no signs of budging, so you reluctantly start walking down the brightly lit corridor noticing how bland the walls are in an intimidating way with nothing to stimulate or distract the mind. You stop at the first door not sure where it was you’re supposed to be going, he doesn’t correct you as you look back at him on the approach. He stops by you and leans in closer than necessary to open the door, keys jangling as he slips them into the lock. You turn your face away from him to show your contempt as the door swings open revealing a dark cold room with no windows. He waits for you to step inside before switching on the lights to reveal an empty room save for a table and two chairs. He shoves past you as the door behind you clicks shut. You realise he’s treating you like every other criminal that’s been here. Well, not every criminal, you can’t imagine he pulls a chair out for just anyone. It’s an act, all of it. One that he knows works. He doesn’t wait for you to take the seat before sitting himself down opposite, staring at your vacant chair. Let’s get this over with. And with that thought you sit yourself down, carefully, keeping yourself on guard. You scan the room, eye flickering to the CCTV in the corner. Other than that, there’s no tape recorder or paper. Nothing. He pulls his chair closer to the table, legs manspreading to assert dominance and hands on the table all the while his cold blue eyes stare into yours. You stay where you are, not wanting to get closer than needed and cross your legs. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your nails digging into your palms to regain some focus. The door to the room swings open as another officer walks in carrying a brown manila folder. You squirm in your seat not liking the idea of being trapped with two males but to your relief the newcomer only hands the file over to the Sheriff before leaving the two of you alone again. You lean forward slightly to see what the file was as the Sheriff flips it open revealing a mugshot of your neighbour. He pulls a blank document out and starts filling in the sections.
“Name?” He bluntly asks. You don’t reply quick enough so he reiterates it “Name?” He glances up at you, eyebrows raised “Name and Date of birth?” You snap into action giving them. “Do you have any proof of identification if we wish to check up on what you provide here today?”
You nod, following it by giving your answer “Yes.” His eyes return to the page in front of him scanning for the next part relevant to you.
“Do you know this man?” He asks, pushing the mugshot towards me. You nod which leads him to ask “Do you recognise this man to be Mr Thomas Brown?” Your voice catches in your throat as you attempt to answer.
“No, I mean, I don’t know his name?” You clarify
“I thought you knew him?” He's trying to trip you up, making you question what you were saying.
“I know of him, only as the man that lives downstairs.” His eyes turn away from you.
“Do you know the wife?”
“Only in the same way.”
“Mrs Brown says you could testify, have you-” you rudely jump the gun and cut him off, knowing full well what goes on in the apartment below yours. Having been in a similar situation yourself, you’re quick to defend her.
“Yes. I can hear it all night long, most nights. He’s a brute.” He nods his head in understanding. Maybe he’s not so bad after all if he’s willing to help. “Are you going to help her?” you blurt out, catching him off guard. He leans back in his chair and for a moment his guise slips, allowing you a glimpse of the compassionate, albeit tired, devoted Sheriff.
“I’m going to try.” Just like that his hard exterior goes back up. He continues to press you for answers, going round and round in circles until you have enough.
“We’re going in circles.”
“Why are you so interested in your neighbours?” And there it was, the question you’d been dreading. It floods your brain with horrific memories rendering you unable to speak. He studies you, feeling sorry as he hits the nail on the head yet also accomplished in working you out. “Perhaps you relate a little too much to Mrs Brown… was it a boyfriend?” he probes. Your eyes wander up from their position staring at the table to meet him. Hatred and rage burns in you, lacing your stare with heavy tension. You want to scream at him but where would that get you other than giving him satisfaction? You have, undeniably, a good poker face, but years of reading people gives him the upper hand. It’s the small flickers in the eyes and the change in pupils. You were hiding something from him. “Or was it your daddy?” You stand up, the chair pushing away from you. Jackpot: daddy issues he makes a mental note.
There’s no need for words, your fast escape from the room says it all. You don’t look back as he follows you out to the corridor, watching you leave. Morning air hits your face sharp and tangy as you suck in rapid breaths in an attempt to stay calm. You leave the station grounds, waiting until you’ve rounded the corner before dropping to a crouch and grabbing your knees as waves of nausea hit. You fight against the memories of the past that flood your brain. Your right hand flys to your left arm, pinching the skin with your nails until bright red crescent moon shapes appear on the smooth skin. Tears well in your eyes at the pain of the marks but it pushes all other thoughts away. You forbid yourself to ever think of this morning ever again. Reluctantly your feet start to move, carrying you back home. You have a few hours until your shift starts, enough time to eat and get ready. You spend the rest of the morning lounging around the apartment, drinking coffee and eating toast before going for a shower. You rush getting dressed as the shift nears. The shift itself goes by incredibly slowly, the entire time you’re dreading a certain someone showing up to mess with you. But he doesn’t. After six hours you’re thankful to be finishing, tiredness has set in, your limbs feel heavy and your eyes sting. The rest of your evening goes quickly following the same boring routine as always. Dinner, TV or book and then bed. Sleep came to you quickly once you’d crawled beneath the duvet, your body sinking into the soft mattress and immediately relaxing. The world fades away.
***
Thud.
It’s the middle of the night, silence fills the air, but something has woken you. Or did you dream of it? No, there had definitely been a sound. You lay in the dark, straining your ears to catch it again.
Thud.
There’s no missing it the second time as someone pounds on your door. You reach out of the cozy duvet where it’s warm and safe, to turn the bedside lamp on and illuminate the room. You grab the cardigan you had discarded on the end of the bed and pull it on, covering yourself before setting two feet on the ground. Creeping across the carpet you head for the front door, which is eerily silent. Now would be the perfect opportunity for a spy hole, you curse the decision not to have one. Instead you opt for calling out, asking who was knocking at this hour.
“Open up” the familiar voice rings out, “It’s Sheriff Goode.” You pull away from the door, hesitant as to why the Sheriff is at your apartment late at night. What could possibly have happened. Nerves eat at you as you realise you’d walked out of the interview. Did that also count as perverting justice? Would this be another ticket, or worse? Your hand reaches reluctantly for the lock, sliding it back on itself. The door opens to reveal him, standing with his arms against the frame, hair slightly dishevelled from long hours in the office, eyes slightly sunken. Something about his appearance makes your nerves disappear to be replaced with butterflies. If it was official business he would be dressed to impress.. “Can I come in?” You hear the softness in his voice, the gentle plead to his tone. This is the side of Sheriff Goode that not many people see, one that makes you forget the ass he can be. It’s seductive. You don’t think about it before opening the door wider to grant him access to the apartment. He takes a few long strides into the room as you shut the door, closing the two of you off from the world. You stare at him expectantly, looking for an answer as to why he is here but he offers no explanation.
Finally you speak, “Is there something I can help you with?” Your voice is husky from sleep, he notes, unable to deny how sexy it makes you sound.
He clears his throat trying to piece together thoughts but he can’t take his eyes off you and can’t concentrate properly. “I have some questions” is all he manages, leaving you more perplexed, the nerves coming back. Perhaps it is official business after all.
“I’ll have to go back to the station tomorrow-“ you start to joke before he cuts you off.
“Why are you like this?” He asks, a playful quality to his voice, which has gone down an octave into a low sensual tone.
“I don’t understand…” you purse your lips in thought as more confusion hits you. He takes a step towards you, as you suddenly become aware of the tension in the room. He’s radiating authority as he comes closer still, making you nervous but also excited. Something in you wants to test the waters more but you don’t get the chance.
“Why are you so…” he grasps for words, his eyes travelling your body taking in your short pyjama shorts and the camisole exposed beneath your cardigan. The top of your breasts peak out teasing him as they start to move under the deep breaths you draw in proximity to him. He can’t deny loving the way he feels around you, powerful and dominant and the way you feel around him. Finally he finds the words “why are you so damn irresistible?” Your mouth drops in shock not expecting this turn of events. His body is so close to yours it takes every ounce of concentration left to focus.
“I don’t-“
“Don’t play coy with me.” He flashes that boyish smile “I know you feel it too.” He backs you into the door leaving you no escape route, his hands planting firmly beside your head. All you see and feel is him in your space, in your senses. There’s no room for anything else. He leans in to whisper against your ear “How am I supposed to focus all day long when you haunt my thoughts?” His breath is hot against your cheek and sends tingles down your spine. You can smell his cologne, and under it his scent. It drives you wild as heat ignites in your core. His mouth moves closer until it hovers inches from your neck, his right hand sliding down the door to grab your hip before his lips caress the soft skin by your jaw. You move your head to give him better access as he plants a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. The other arm finds itself following the pursuit of the right and works its way around your waist pulling your body closer until it’s pressed tightly against his. A gasp falls from your mouth as he gently bites the dip in your neck, before sucking on this same spot. Your hands wrap around his neck and lock into his hair with a vice like grip earning a moan from him. You smile to yourself as you discover a weakness of his but it soon disappears to be replaced with a whimpering moan of your own as his hand travels from your hips to your ass and pulls you onto your tiptoes. His head moves away from your neck as he takes a moment to admire his handy work, tomorrow morning would reveal a nasty love bite. A claim for all the world to see. You look up at him with heavy eyes, arms still around his neck. He knows what you want but needs to hear you say it. He wants to hear you beg for what you’ve denied, the feelings suppressed. He’s known since the minute you laid eyes on one another, despite your best efforts to dislike him. The stronger your contempt grew for him, the more his desire matched it.
Your cheeks flush as he stares down at you, which riles him up further. You notice his eyes move from yours down to your plump lips, as he thinks about what he’d like your mouth to do, before travelling down to your chest. Something inside him snaps as he crashes his lips to yours, hungry for your touch. The movement slams you back into the door earning yet another moan from you which was music to his ears. He slid his tongue past your lips as your hands moved to his chest trying to quickly undo the buttons of his blue shirt. There was urgency in your actions, desire lacing every move. Nick decides he isn’t going to let you have what you want, not just yet. You need to know who’s in charge around here. His hands come down to enclose yours on his chest, stopping them a few buttons down from his neck. The kiss breaks as you look at him, aware of the change of atmosphere. He locks his fingers around your wrists bringing them above your head which isn’t hard being so short, he moves his positioning so he can secure them with one of his hands, keeping the other free to do as he pleases. It comes down to your right breast, squeezing it through the fabric of your top. Immediately your nipples harden at the sensation, delighting him endlessly. His fingers trail across the skin at the neckline of the top, threatening to go below. Your eyes shoot him a pleading look which is met by a devilishly smug smile.
“Say it” He whispers, eyes boring into yours as if in doing so he could read your mind, “Tell me…” he trails off as his hands slips below your camisole and he cups your breast. He grows hard at the feel of you, his growing erection pressing against your hip. You try to squirm free of his grip to get a hand loose but it’s impossible. Your head rolls back as his fingers pinch your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index. Your breath hitches as you try to subdue a moan. Nick isn’t having any of it, he wants you exposed, not just your body, but your feelings too. He wants to know he’s been right all along.
“Nick” you whine as you lift yourself away from the door and press yourself to him, lips inches from his. He senses you’re close to admitting total surrender as he glides his hand down your body and slips it inside your shorts. Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers start to work circles around your clit, your resolve melting away into nothing. It’s all over too soon. His hand retreats, earning a glare from you while the other drops your arms. He pulls away from you, putting space between the two of you. He eyes you in the state you’re left, breathless and flushed with a burning need for him. Your eyes drop to the floor in embarrassment at the realisation of what just happened and at how quickly you became putty in his hands, but more so of how much you wanted it. You find the courage to meet his gaze, how can he remain so cool and collected? Truth is, he has one hell of a poker face. Underneath he’s just as much a mess as you are. The heat between your thighs burns with a renewed sense of directive as you take in his appearance. His hair which was already disheveled, is now sticking out in multiple directions from where your hands ran through it. His eyes are dilated and watch you intently as you ponder your next move.
“Nick…” He hears the surrender in your voice at the loss of not knowing what to do. You don’t know the next move. You’re a good girl, you don’t play like this and don’t know how to respond but your eyes speak a million words. They draw him back in and he takes your hands again, holding them against your body as he watches your face for a sign. “Nick” you whine, “Please.” There it is. He lets your hands go and they automatically fly up to his neck pulling him down into a passionate kiss. You pull away, forehead against his as your fingers lace through his hair. “I need you” you pant. It’s enough for now, but he makes a mental note to teach you how to properly beg later. “Please Nick, fuck me.” He didn’t think he could get harder, but hearing you say that made him stiffen more. You lean in and kiss him before biting down on his lower lip, fueling not only your desire but the monster within too.
You sit bolt upright in bed, your eyes flying open. The room is dark as your eyes scan around searching, moonlight leaking in through the window. You’re alone. Your body collapses back onto the mattress, duvet tangled around your lower half. Your chest heaves under your heavy breathing as you realise it was all a dream.
“What the fuck” you announce to the empty room, trying to wrap your mind around why you were dreaming of the sleazy, annoying, ass that is Sheriff Goode. Despite that, you can’t ignore the way you feel, your nipples are hard and your legs are squeezed together in an attempt to relieve the tension that’s built in between your thighs.
Your body was betraying you, worst of all, it was betraying you to him.
#nick goode#sheriff goode#sheriff nick goode#nick goode x reader#nick goode one shot#nick goode mini series#nick goode imagine#sheriff goode x reader#fear street trilogy#fear street 1994#fear street#ashley zukerman#samblackwrites#shadyside#sunnyvale#goode is evil#Under Your Skin (Nick Goode)#smut#Nick goode smut
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My mom asking what I'm doing because I'm smiling at my phone: 😁
Me, reading fanfiction about (Sheriff) Nick Goode because I was bored: nothing 😳
#im not even attracted to nick goode#it's just ashley and ted#fear street 1978#fear street 1994#fear street 1666#nick goode#sheriff goode#nick goode x reader#ashley zukerman#ted sutherland
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Nick Goode fanfic series coming soon!! 😏😏
Comment { :) } to be tagged when it’s posted!!
#nick goode#nickgoode1994#fear street#fear street 1994#nick goode x plus size reader#plus size reader#neurodivergent reader#autistic reader#chubby reader#ashley Zukerman#nick goode x reader
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It's not that we're horny for Sheriff Goode. We are attracted of the fact that we can tell at him and think up a sort of ways to torture him because he is a dumb dumb who sold his soul for a life he didn't want.
As for fanfiction where Goode x Reader? I don't know. Ashley Zukerman is attractive. And then we send Nick to hell.
bro hes literally racist and homophobic
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Robert Langdon general dating HCs
Robert Langdon x fem!reader
Author's note: i got this request in like january, @rae-and-mezo i'm terribly sorry it took so long, but i guess we all had those bad times when work is extremely draining
Author's note #2: i kind of mixed all the versions of him in my mind, so it probably won't be accurate
Requested: yes
i feel like in order to really build a relationship with this man, you have to work in an academic field, not necessarily in his area, but something close (probably the history of art)
it took him a lot of time and building up courage to ask you out on a date, 'cause you had this aura around you that told men not to mess with you; you were, after all, a smart woman. Smarter than a lot of other professionals at Harvard, in Robert's opinion
since the early stages of your relationship, he always tried to ask for your opinion on things, even consulting with you about bits of his book. that alone was something you never experienced before; those idiots you dated before had hard time with accepting the fact that you were known really well in academic field
also, he's a simp for you, okay
you could do whatever, and he'll support you and will brag about your success
your schedules are working extremely good together. the only time you were barely seeing each other was when you were writing your doctorate
Robert convinced you to go swimming with him at least once a week. it was hard at first, but in a month or so you started to actually like it
if you want to get married, then expect something over the roof for a wedding gift; he probably wrote to the Pope and asked for permission to take you to the archives
you rarely fight, but if you do, you will scream at each other for like 2 hours and then just fuck your frustrations out (it's never about serious stuff, you just have to have different opinions on significance of the kind of strokes Leonardo used on his paintings)
Robert will always make sure that he has time to kiss you and say he loves you before your work day
most of the time, he drives you both to the campus; the first time it happened you students were making all kind of comments (at some of them you actually smiled)
sometimes Robert is so far up his mind that you have to remind him what's real and what's not
he realized that he loves you when you had helped him through his panic attack not even knowing that he has a tendency of having them
you realized that when he did the most mundane thing ever; something like installing your new bookcase without you asking him to help you
you also were convinced at that moment that there's nothing more sexy than a smart man doing something with his hands (especially with his shirt's sleeves rolled up, oh my god)
i won't describe your sex life, but considering the fact that you're both sensible adults, you probably have no troubles with speaking about it and discussing your opinions
his favorite thing about you is the way you eyes light up when you speak about something you're passionate about
his second favorite thing, though, are your tighs (especially when they're on his shoulders and wrapped around his head)
he once asked what you liked about him. he had to stop you because the list was going on and on
you love his arms and ass more than anything
but the real thing you love about him is his intellect
expect him to have his hand on you at all times. holding your hand, having it at the small of your back, on your hip, whatever comes to mind
you love the way he relaxes instantly when you play with his hair
you once caught him dancing to your playlist (he said he didn't really liked it)
every week you choose a day and just dance together to your playlists
Robert is also not afraid to be goofy around you, which you appreciate and adore
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I posted 1,392 times in 2022
182 posts created (13%)
1,210 posts reblogged (87%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@darling-i-read-it
@thewritingdoll
@rufeepeach
@russiawave
@headfullofpresley
I tagged 165 of my posts in 2022
#ashley zukerman - 10 posts
#nick goode - 10 posts
#nick goode x reader - 9 posts
#so true - 7 posts
#fear street 1994 - 6 posts
#alan rickman - 6 posts
#the devil wears prada - 5 posts
#ashley zukerman x reader - 5 posts
#fear street - 4 posts
#mob wives - 4 posts
Longest Tag: 119 characters
#also it'd be fun if the had started to say something about being too old and the reader suddenly become protective lol
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
She's the girlfriend
Miranda Priestly x fem!reader
Requested by: anon. If you’re requests are open can I then request a miranda priestly x reader where reader is going through a really bad anxiety period of time, and r is having a really hard time one day and goes to visit miranda at her office and everyone at the office are like “who is this bitch?” And maybe r ends up falling asleep in Miranda’s office?
Warnings: mentions of panic attacks, anxiety
A/n: I'm SO sorry it took me that long bestie but I kinda felt that way too for all this time
It was the worst week of your life. It first started with your usual anxiety worsening; the constant fidgeting, panic attacks in the mornings, and the feel of dread that never wore off. Then it was your job: a lot of unnecessary tasks, the need to do the job of your co-worker who’s gotten ill. Every day you woke up to the feeling that you can’t go to work; you felt like you had no power in you to do so. Then the day would go impossibly slow, every minute felt like an hour.
It all would be okay if you had the opportunity to go home and spend some time with your girlfriend. Everyone around you (those who knew) was calling her that but you don’t like it. It’s too simple for your taste. When you’re alone or with her you like to call Miranda ‘your woman’. Well, she’s not a girl anymore, that’s for sure. Also that sounds a little more mature.
So, the last week was terrible. Luckily for you, your boss was not an absolute dick and he allowed you to have a few extra days off.
One day, waking up, you thought that you’ve definitely slept for like 3 days straight. Taking a deep breath, you felt the smell of Miranda’s favorite fragrance which made you smile. You haven’t seen her for a while, both of your jobs making it quite difficult at the time.
Making yourself breakfast, you thought about finally buying that coat Miranda was telling would look perfect on you. You decided to buy it on your way to her office.
Breakfast was exactly what you needed but your heart rate was still unstable, and you felt like crying. You were feeling the need to see Miranda as soon as possible and spend some time in her presence. You knew it would make you feel better.
It took you long enough time to get there and feel yourself even worse. You decided not to stop anywhere to buy that coat, you surely weren’t chatty enough to do that.
Immediately after hearing the words ‘Miranda’ and ‘girlfriend’ in the same sentence you already had your personal pass in hand and with that you made your way to the floors that belonged to the Podium. The looks models were giving you made you feel even worse than you already felt, and you tried to make it in the office faster. You already knew where to go but nobody at Podium (except Nigel) knew about you and your relationship with ‘the devil in heels’ as everyone liked to call her (you honestly didn’t get it).
As you made you way straight to Miranda, a girl, who you assumed was Emily, tried to stop you, “Hey! Who do you think you are?” She tried to go after you, but the way Miranda looked at you and went to hold you made her stop in her tracks.
While Miranda continued to work on the upcoming New York fashion week, you made yourself comfortable on the little sofa she had in her office. You were watching her silently for 20 minutes or something when you started to feel your heart rate was getting back to normal and your eyelids started to feel very heavy.
When Andy made her way to the office with a cup of coffee for Miranda, Emily told her about you. At that Andy shrugged her shoulders and, sitting down, said, “She’s the girlfriend. Didn’t you hear?”
92 notes - Posted June 13, 2022
#4
Secrets
Nick Goode x reader
Requested by: @darling-i-read-it "can i please get a nick goode fic? Like the reader mayhaps not knowing about the whole deal with the devil thing and when she finds out he thinks she's gonna be pissed but she is actually like <3 this is fantastic <3 i love you AND murder <3
Warnings: mentions of murder
A/n: nick goode brainrot
It was a known fact that everyone in Sunnyvale was happy. But once in a while someone would ask you, "Y/n, are you happy?" And you would always reply with a 'yes'. It wasn't a lie; you think of yourself as a happy woman. You like to look at yourself in the mirror, you have a job you like more than anything, and you have a man to call your own. You fell in love with him the moment you saw him; smart and handsome young man, also known as sheriff Nick Goode.
You could tell he liked you too right away, that little smile always on his lips when he was seeing you in a crowd, or his inability to talk in your presence. It was only a matter of time for you to start a relationship.
Early on you decided that you should trust each other completely, no matter what. For the most part you did. He knew about you everything. In the beginning, Nick was asking you a lot of questions: your favorite movie, color, what you like to eat, what kind of person you are in the morning etc. He was really curious, and you appreciated it; it was good to know the man wanted to know you and to understand you better.
You did the same. Asked him a million questions, always ready to pick up on something new. However, there was one secret he kept from you.
In his living room, near the fireplace there was a door; simple white door. It was locked at all times. It was okay when you didn't live together, but you started to question it more and more since the moment you moved in.
Were you supposed to clean there? Was it just a creepy basement that was completely empty? You wanted to know what was in there and once you asked Nick about it. The first time he said that it was just a basement, nothing to see there. His reply suited you for a while. Then you saw him coming in the basement for a few times, and when you asked him again, he turned the conversation in another direction.
It continued time and time again; you were so sick of this, you tried to find the key without him knowing. Of course, you didn't succeed. Later you would know that Nick kept the key with him at all times.
Finally, came the day when Nick Goode forgot to lock the door. Something happened in Shadyside, and he hurried there without as much as saying goodbye. You didn't notice it at first, the door was slightly ajar; you only noticed while approaching the fireplace.
For a couple of minutes, you stood there, looking at it and not knowing what to do. On one hand, Nick wouldn't hide the information from you without sufficient reason. On the other hand, he was being suspicious, with all his weird answers and avoiding the questions. Also, your curiosity was eating you alive, you HAD to know what was there. Looking at your watch, you noted that Nick was out for an hour, so it would be safe for you to have a quick look.
You found an old flashlight in the kitchen and turning it on, you opened the door. A few steps away there were torches on the walls of the tunnel; from the first sight, you could see it was leading somewhere not too far away. You turned the flashlight off and began to move forward with cautious steps.
The place was very old, that much you could tell. Slightly damp stone which was overgrown with moss you've seen before only a few times. Damp air, making it hard to breath. You almost fell one time, your foot stuck on something, or it just wasn't a place to walk in your home slippers.
You reached a clearing of some sort. It was all stone and soil. On the floor in the center was something you mistook for a pentagram at first. Surrounding it, there were large stones with something engraved on them. Stepping closer you realized it was names. All of them sounded familiar. It all started to make sense to you, and you were just about to look at the mark on the floor again when the voice startled you, "I told you to not go in here".
Nick returned home just a few minutes ago, anticipating warm dinner and you in his arms, but he couldn't find you anywhere. Living room was the last place he checked and the first thing he noticed there was an open door to the only place in his house you had no access to. Plans were already forming in his head as he made his way to the altar. Two of them contained the way he would explain everything: one was telling the truth and the other was lying shamelessly to your face. He knew the lie wouldn't do, so his only option was to tell the truth, no matter how ugly it was. Nick wasn't sure how good you would take it. He doubted you would be happy, but he surely could make it sound good. In the plan he didn't want to think about, he was killing you. Of course, Nick knew that if it all came out, people would believe him, not you. But he still needed to think it through.
Also, he really didn’t want to kill you. You were like a ray of sunshine for him; always there, supporting him in everything, always on his side. But what you probably already saw was able to make him look like a psychopath killer in your eyes, and he didn’t want that.
Stepping quietly, he made sure you wouldn't hear him. You didn't, and he waited patiently for your brain to make the connection. And just when you were about to turn around, he said, "I told you to not go in here".
You turned around quickly and looked at him wide-eyed, "Sorry, I couldn't help it, I had to know. And how cool is that?! Why didn't you tell me?"
Nick had to take a moment to process what you just said. You could see the confusion on his face, so you stepped closer and took another look at the engraving and the stones. "You’re making deals with the Devil, that's so cool! Oh... Oh! So this stuff a couple of days ago at the mall happened because of you! Ah, I love you. I knew you were the best, but this is just like a Christmas present". He finally came to his senses and looked at you in disbelief, "What?"
You were already making your way out, talking non-stop, "And the murders were so nice! So much blood, classic slasher movie, I swear. Is it your first time? Or the Camp Nightwing massacre was you too?"
You stopped walking when you didn't notice him near you. You turned around and looked at his still shocked face, "Nick? You okay?"
"You okay with it? Why?" he took a few steps closer. "I have some secrets of my own", you smiled and continued your way to the living room. "But seriously, you have to tell me everything!"
98 notes - Posted April 12, 2022
#3
Good Morning, Indeed
Miranda Priestly x reader
Requested: by anon. Would you do some morning fluff for Miranda Priestly? E.g styling her hair? Fanks! 😌😁
A/n: it's short but cute! hope you like it x also i;m done with my requests (finally) send me sone more!
Honestly, you've no idea how exactly you ended up living with that woman. Only yesterday she was whipping you with her words at the Runway and today you’re making her favorite breakfast. The things you do for love, huh.
It was so early in the morning, you weren’t even sure if it was morning already. Miranda was still sleeping, the girls were in their beds too. The aroma of fresh coffee has filled the room, making you slightly more awake. The first Harry Potter book laid on the table waiting for you to read it. Miranda’s girls were ecstatic for you to read the whole series; their mother didn’t have the time to do that.
You flipped a pancake and took a drink from your cup. When the table was served, you heard Miranda already being mad at someone over the phone. You smiled a little, gladly it wasn’t you on the other side.
She ended the call just before coming into the kitchen. “Good morning, love”, you handed her a cup of coffee and took a notice of her hair. They were still wet from the shower, so you went to the other room to grab some brushes and a hairdryer to style her hair. She didn’t like to do that herself; it was your prerogative.
When you returned to the kitchen, Miranda was flipping through the book, shaking her head from time to time. You kissed her temple and started to do her hair.
You felt her relax instantly. She didn’t like people touching her hair, but when it came to you, she loved it. Miranda took a swing of her coffee and you just knew that she had closed her eyes.
It was an unusually quiet morning. Just the two of you. You both didn’t like to talk at the moments like this. Work related topics can be dealt with in a car on your way to the Podium. Everything related to the girls was done yesterday. So you just enjoyed those quiet moments.
When Miranda’s hair was done with, you took a sit next to her and started to eat. She continued to work on the book. Half an hour had passed just like that.
You heard the book was closed, felt her lips on your cheek. “Good morning, indeed”
107 notes - Posted January 23, 2022
#2
the world without Him
Severus Snape x fem!reader
Requested: no
Warnings: mentions of death, ptsd?, suicide
A/n: please don't read if even one of the warnings trigger you! extremely sad. also don't read if you don't want to!
She looked up at the sky and then shut her eyes. The sun was too bright today. How could it be bright? How could it be so cruel?
They couldn’t find his body. Not on the day of the fight, not after it. She had nothing left. Nothing to bury. Nothing to come back to. Nothing to mourn.
It was the first sunny day after the battle. It happened almost two weeks ago and now it seems like it never happened. Funerals went for days straight; everyone was mourning their loved ones. Everyone but her. She had nothing.
Harry tried to cheer her up a little, saying he died a hero. She didn’t care about that. Funny how he became a hero only after his death. The death she couldn’t believe in. She saw no body. She never saw him being killed. Every day since the battle she was expecting him to come home to her. Weak, tired but still alive. She was sure that he was somewhere out there just trying to heal the wounds. Every day she cooked breakfast for two, brewed coffee exactly the way he liked it. Sitting in his chair she read the daily prophet as if she was getting ready to discuss news with him in the evening. Just like before the war.
Of course, the day of his return never came. In September she returned to Hogwarts just like she would before the war. Spent her free time in the dungeons just like before the war. She even continued her potions lessons. But now she only had his textbook. Countless of times she traced the words he had written with her fingertips. Countless of times she imagined him talking, giving her advises and teasing her endlessly. Professor Slughorn didn’t mind her being there; he even caught her crying one time.
Time flew by and students started to see more of him in her. Quiet, brooding, not a hint of emotion. She didn’t have the energy to smile. Didn’t have the energy to be helpful. Suddenly she had found her students to be irritating and lazy. Just like he did.
Hermione Granger, who had returned for her 7th year, pointed it out to her just before Christmas. She smiled a little, for the first time in months, and said that it was just easier this way. Easier to ignore the pain.
When the holidays were over, she didn’t return to school. Some said, she retreated to muggle world, someone was gossiping about her possible death. One girl said that she just couldn’t live in a world without him. For everyone she just vanished. Nobody knows what happened to her. And I’m not sure someone wants to.
150 notes - Posted February 1, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
The Unexpected Speech
Severus Snape x reader (but the focus is on you), Umbridge
Requested: no
A/n: can't say this is angst, don's know what's this lol, mentions of sex
This morning you were getting ready for work in a rush. I wasn’t often when you overslept, but when you did, it was always a fault of your husband. He was already having breakfast, maybe even finished it. And you had to skip it today. While in a haste you didn’t notice a little hickey on your neck. You always wear modest clothes, so that’s probably the reason why you didn’t notice anything.
You were a Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts. It was a great help that your mother was a muggle-born witch, she taught you a lot of muggle related things. The lesson with a 3rd years went by pretty quickly, children were actually curious to learn new things, and they readily passed their enthusiasm to you. Your second lesson of the day you spent with a 7thyear.
When Fred and George Weasley (your favourites, but they didn’t need to know that) were telling you about their father’s job, Dolores Umbridge had paid you a visit.
About your hickey. It was only visible when you turned your head to the side, so, if the student didn’t pay you attention, you were safe. But your older students were really interested in the subject. They noticed, of course, but didn’t tell you anything. It would be awkward to both parties. So, they stayed quiet.
That woman never stayed quiet. She noticed it and was already lecturing you on why exactly your appearance was inappropriate to a teacher. It wasn’t the first time she did that. Earlier that year, Umbridge gave you a good scolding because of: your hair, your makeup (“Surely, you don’t need that much of mascara, do you?”), your choice of clothes, your choice of shoes, even your nails. What was wrong with the last one, she didn’t tell you. So, that day was the last straw. You didn’t care that she could fire you, you could easily find another job. Yes, you would miss your students, but that’s okay. You finally let yourself speak back to her. In front of children.
“Thank you for your concern but I’ve had enough of it for the past months. And I won’t stay silent any longer. As far as I know, my husband provides you with Veritaserum potion you like to you use on innocent children so much. So I strongly suggest you stop bullying me just because of your non-existent sex life. And yes, I am aware that you can fire me. And no, I don’t really care about that. Now, please, leave the room and let me finish today’s lessons. You can announce my outrageous behaviour and fire me at dinner time in front of all school. Thank you very much”.
It was the first time you ever saw her speechless. She silently left the room and even closed the door behind her. Students were quiet for a few more moments and then you heard them applauding. Only then you realized what you had said to her. No one except the staff knew about your marriage. You and your husband, Severus Snape, wanted to keep it a secret to the sake of yours and his reputation. Students adored you and loathed him. Severus wanted to keep it that way.
Your little speech had the effect of an exploding bomb. By the end of the day all school was talking only about that. You didn’t have a free minute that day, sadly. You wanted Severus to know everything from you, not from the gossip. You only saw him when you came into the Great Hall to have dinner. Perhaps, your last one within those walls. You avoided looking at him and wanted to sit somewhere else, but this time Minerva left the spot on his right to you. You took a seat there and took a little sip of pumpkin juice. You calmed a little when you felt him hand on your knee. Yes, he was probably mad but not at you, you were sure of that. He was never mad at you.
Just like you predicted, Umbridge fired you but not without the unnecessary drama. You were fine with her being mean, but this time she was saying you were unprofessional. Bad influence on children. Profaner of these sacred to the wizarding world walls. This time you needed to calm your husband. You squeezed his hand in yours gently and smiled at him a little, showing that you were doing okay. Spoiler, you weren’t. You were on the verge of tears. It hurt you deeply that your students were hearing such horrid words about you, that they could believe it. You knew they wouldn’t, but it hurt, nonetheless.
On your way out of the hall you tried to communicate with as many students as was possible. They all stood up, paying you a tribute. Saying the last “don’t get yourself in trouble just because of me” to the Weasley twins, you left the hall.
You only let the tears fall when you ended up in your husband’s embrace 20 mins later. You were saying sorry over and over again and as many times Severus was telling you that you did the right thing, even if it weren’t so smart. At that you smiled a little through the tears and hugged him tightly.
In the morning you had left the school. You had left the home. Of course, you didn’t know that you would return just before august ended. Finally you had some time to make your house a home.
189 notes - Posted February 3, 2022
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Just Not Today
Nick Goode x reader
Warnings: not detailed description of a scar
A/n: wanna write domestic Nick Goode
You liked getting ready to sleep. For you it meant an hour of an absolute silence, no more annoying co-workers, just you and your favorite place in the house. You would light up scented candles you loved, take a warm nice bath, basically just take care of your body and soul. Quiet music would play in the background, your feet perfectly warm and cozy in your slippers. Not hurrying anywhere, you would pick something from your array of face masks and creams. Glass of wine would wait for you to finish your beauty routine.
It all changed when you started to date Nick Goode. You still remember the first night you decided to stay at his place and trade the established order of life for something unknown.
Sitting on his bed, you were looking around, trying to learn more just from the little things in the room. Nick was taking a shower, and you had some moments to yourself. You still weren’t comfortable with you two taking a shower at the same time, so you waited. It wasn’t long until you were no longer hearing water running. You waited a couple of minutes, took your bag, and made your way to the bathroom. Entering it, you saw Nick combing his hair, water still dripping from it.
“Where can I put it?” You lifted the bag a little higher, looking at the man through the mirror. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around the room. Nick pointed at the little cabinet in the corner and said, “That’s the driest place here. Towels are there too”.
You nodded and put it there. Nick made his way out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.
It felt good knowing that the man was respecting your boundaries. Your ex would point out the fact that you’ve already had sex and that hiding yourself from him is unnecessary. Nick never questioned it, even tried to make your staying at his place more enjoyable for you. You never thought he would, but he noticed what kind of candles, creams and body washes you liked and bought them for you, without asking and without expecting anything in return.
It took you less time than usual to take the shower, you skipped the face mask part of your routine (you mom was always telling you that a man should not see those things) and made your way out. Nick was laying on his stomach on the bed and reading a book you advised him to read. You took a moment to look at him, taking a note of his curly hair and the pajama pants that were a couple of sizes too big for him. You smiled a little and was going to fix a pant leg that had risen but frowned at the sight of deep, violent scar on his thigh, just above the knee.
You never noticed it before, but now, thinking about it, you realized that the man was always slightly limping. Immediately the sense of guilt filled you. You knew you weren’t an ideal girlfriend, but not noticing it in those 4 months you were dating? You touched the scar carefully, making Nick jolt a little.
“I’m old, you could give me a heart attack like that, you know?” He turned on his back and looked at you, gently smiling.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice it before”, you took a seat next to him,” Does it hurt?”
He sighed and pulled you to him, hugging you to his chest.
“Sometimes, when the weather is really bad. And don’t be sorry, it’s just a scar, everyone has them”.
“Yeah, but yours looks like it’s a lot of pain”, you looked at him worryingly.
“It’s nothing, I swear. But thanks for worrying about me. It’s nice”, Nick smiled and kissed your forehead.
You put your head on his shoulder and promised yourself you ask him more about it. Just not today.
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Secrets
Nick Goode x reader
Requested by: @darling-i-read-it "can i please get a nick goode fic? Like the reader mayhaps not knowing about the whole deal with the devil thing and when she finds out he thinks she's gonna be pissed but she is actually like <3 this is fantastic <3 i love you AND murder <3
Warnings: mentions of murder
A/n: nick goode brainrot
It was a known fact that everyone in Sunnyvale was happy. But once in a while someone would ask you, "Y/n, are you happy?" And you would always reply with a 'yes'. It wasn't a lie; you think of yourself as a happy woman. You like to look at yourself in the mirror, you have a job you like more than anything, and you have a man to call your own. You fell in love with him the moment you saw him; smart and handsome young man, also known as sheriff Nick Goode.
You could tell he liked you too right away, that little smile always on his lips when he was seeing you in a crowd, or his inability to talk in your presence. It was only a matter of time for you to start a relationship.
Early on you decided that you should trust each other completely, no matter what. For the most part you did. He knew about you everything. In the beginning, Nick was asking you a lot of questions: your favorite movie, color, what you like to eat, what kind of person you are in the morning etc. He was really curious, and you appreciated it; it was good to know the man wanted to know you and to understand you better.
You did the same. Asked him a million questions, always ready to pick up on something new. However, there was one secret he kept from you.
In his living room, near the fireplace there was a door; simple white door. It was locked at all times. It was okay when you didn't live together, but you started to question it more and more since the moment you moved in.
Were you supposed to clean there? Was it just a creepy basement that was completely empty? You wanted to know what was in there and once you asked Nick about it. The first time he said that it was just a basement, nothing to see there. His reply suited you for a while. Then you saw him coming in the basement for a few times, and when you asked him again, he turned the conversation in another direction.
It continued time and time again; you were so sick of this, you tried to find the key without him knowing. Of course, you didn't succeed. Later you would know that Nick kept the key with him at all times.
Finally, came the day when Nick Goode forgot to lock the door. Something happened in Shadyside, and he hurried there without as much as saying goodbye. You didn't notice it at first, the door was slightly ajar; you only noticed while approaching the fireplace.
For a couple of minutes, you stood there, looking at it and not knowing what to do. On one hand, Nick wouldn't hide the information from you without sufficient reason. On the other hand, he was being suspicious, with all his weird answers and avoiding the questions. Also, your curiosity was eating you alive, you HAD to know what was there. Looking at your watch, you noted that Nick was out for an hour, so it would be safe for you to have a quick look.
You found an old flashlight in the kitchen and turning it on, you opened the door. A few steps away there were torches on the walls of the tunnel; from the first sight, you could see it was leading somewhere not too far away. You turned the flashlight off and began to move forward with cautious steps.
The place was very old, that much you could tell. Slightly damp stone which was overgrown with moss you've seen before only a few times. Damp air, making it hard to breath. You almost fell one time, your foot stuck on something, or it just wasn't a place to walk in your home slippers.
You reached a clearing of some sort. It was all stone and soil. On the floor in the center was something you mistook for a pentagram at first. Surrounding it, there were large stones with something engraved on them. Stepping closer you realized it was names. All of them sounded familiar. It all started to make sense to you, and you were just about to look at the mark on the floor again when the voice startled you, "I told you to not go in here".
Nick returned home just a few minutes ago, anticipating warm dinner and you in his arms, but he couldn't find you anywhere. Living room was the last place he checked and the first thing he noticed there was an open door to the only place in his house you had no access to. Plans were already forming in his head as he made his way to the altar. Two of them contained the way he would explain everything: one was telling the truth and the other was lying shamelessly to your face. He knew the lie wouldn't do, so his only option was to tell the truth, no matter how ugly it was. Nick wasn't sure how good you would take it. He doubted you would be happy, but he surely could make it sound good. In the plan he didn't want to think about, he was killing you. Of course, Nick knew that if it all came out, people would believe him, not you. But he still needed to think it through.
Also, he really didn’t want to kill you. You were like a ray of sunshine for him; always there, supporting him in everything, always on his side. But what you probably already saw was able to make him look like a psychopath killer in your eyes, and he didn’t want that.
Stepping quietly, he made sure you wouldn't hear him. You didn't, and he waited patiently for your brain to make the connection. And just when you were about to turn around, he said, "I told you to not go in here".
You turned around quickly and looked at him wide-eyed, "Sorry, I couldn't help it, I had to know. And how cool is that?! Why didn't you tell me?"
Nick had to take a moment to process what you just said. You could see the confusion on his face, so you stepped closer and took another look at the engraving and the stones. "You’re making deals with the Devil, that's so cool! Oh... Oh! So this stuff a couple of days ago at the mall happened because of you! Ah, I love you. I knew you were the best, but this is just like a Christmas present". He finally came to his senses and looked at you in disbelief, "What?"
You were already making your way out, talking non-stop, "And the murders were so nice! So much blood, classic slasher movie, I swear. Is it your first time? Or the Camp Nightwing massacre was you too?"
You stopped walking when you didn't notice him near you. You turned around and looked at his still shocked face, "Nick? You okay?"
"You okay with it? Why?" he took a few steps closer. "I have some secrets of my own", you smiled and continued your way to the living room. "But seriously, you have to tell me everything!"
#Nick Goode#Nick Goode fear street#Fear street#fear street 1994#Nick Goode x reader#ashley zukerman#Ashley Zukerman x reader
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Omg loved ur last Ashley one maybe you could do a fluffy Ashley Zukerman imagine?💗
A - Affection (how do they show affection)
Ashley shows affection by bringing you flowers every day from work. He'll hide it behind his back, acting like he's hiding something (You know what it is). He won't give you the flowers without a kiss first.
B - Balance (how do they balance you, work/school/life?)
Ashley makes sure to know that you feel like the main priority. When he's filming, he'll send you hourly updates as well as facetime calls.
C - Cuddles (do they enjoy cuddling? what positions?)
Ashley adores cuddling, it's his favorite thing to do with you besides sex.
Ashley really likes it when you lay on his chest so he can play with your hair.
D - Date (what was your first date?)
Ashley sweeped you off your feet on the first date. Candles, wine, homemade dinner, and beautiful music. There was not a single quiet moment while you ate with him.
E - Excited (how excited do they get when they see you/are with you?)
Ashley is all smiles when he comes back home from filming. cuddles and kisses every single moment along with miss yous.
F - Fighting (what happens when you fight)
When you fight, it's like everything is shut down. Ashley is the first to shut down and stare at the wall as you continue to run your fingers through your hair.
G - Gorgeous (pet names. what do they like to call you? what do they like to be called?)
He calls you good-looking, darling, and sweetheart.
You call him handsome, darling, and sweetie.
H - Hi (first time meeting)
The first time you met was at a bookstore. Classic moment of the two of you reaching for the same book.
Ashley gave you a side smile and you were hooked
I - Intimacy (how romantic they are)
King of Romance. Books and movies take notes off of him.
J - Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they react to you being jealous)
When Ashley is jealous, his jaw clenches, and presses rough kisses against your neck.
Ashley is always stunned to see you jealous. It's like another side of you. Why haven't you shown that side before?
K - Kisses (where do they like to kiss you/how often?)
Ashley loves kissing your hand. The top and the palm. Though kissing your palm is his favorite.
L - Love (when was the first time they said I love you or realized it?)
Ashley told you he loved you after a picnic. The two of you were giggling and sipping on sparkling cider as he watched the wind hit your face.
M - Moving in (when do you decide to move in together)
You two moved in together after you kept staying overnight rather than going home. Not that Ashley was complaining but he rather has you with him at home than you driving at night.
N - Newborn (their reaction to starting a family)
To say Ashley was happy is an understatement, he accidentally broke a lamp from jumping up and down.
O - Open (how open you are with one another)
Anything you want to know, he'll tell you. Ashley would never keep a secret away from you.
P - Photos (what kind of photos you take of them/they take of you)
Ashley takes beautiful photos of you. He likes taking photos of you. "Your beauty should be framed on every photo"
You take pictures when he's not paying attention. It's cuter than way. Where he's reading, writing, or napping.
Q - Quirks (what random habits do you have that they love or hate/vice versa)
Ashley loves how you play with his hair when you're nervous. He hates how you tap your feet when bored. It's the tapping sounds that get him.
You love Ashley's doodles. You love to watch him draw little figures when he's bored. You hate Ashley's tongue clicking. It drives you insane.
R - Recovery (how you help them after an injury/vice versa)
Ashley helps you recover by being your personal nurse. He won't let you leave the bed. You're also his personal nurse.
S - Solution (how they resolve fights)
Good Old Fashion Way. Via Flowers.
T- Touch (when they need/want your touch, what will they do? how often?)
Ashley is all game for your touch but it's mostly after long days of work. Ashley will still bring you flowers but this time when he gives you the flowers, he'll take them back to throw them on the table,
He'll cup your face and start pressing kisses.
U- Waking Up With Them
Waking up with him is always such a beautiful view. Light is lightly shinning in as the sounds of his soft snores fill your heart.
V - Vacation (where they travel with you)
To your dream destination. You name it, he'll book it.
W - Wedding (how they propose/where you get married/honeymoon)
Ashley proposes under the full moon after a candlelight dinner. You two get married at church and your honeymoon is at a beautiful resort.
X - X-factor (what about you captivated them?)
Ashley loved your smile but what really drew him in is when you said that _____ was your favorite author. It's his too.
Y - Yawning (how they act when they’re tired)
He won't show it. He'll swallow yawns but you drag him to bed
Z - Zzzz (how you fall asleep together)
Listening to each other's heartbeats.
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Been awhile since we last had an Ashley Zukerman smut? Maybe we could get one?
Ashley Zukerman Smut Headcannons
Totally into roleplay
I totally see him going way into the role while fucking you.
He's a cop? You're under arrest. He's a firefighter? He'll save you.
His favorite position is where you're pressed against the window so your breasts squished against the glass
Ashley is into spit play too. He'll spit in your mouth and expect you to swallow it like a good slut.
Just like Nick, he loves sniffing your panties.
Something about Ashley makes me think of him as like a sex god.
He'll use you until you're quivering and whining.
His favorite sound is hearing you moan/cry out his name.
#ashley zukerman imagines#ashley zukerman imagine#ashley zukerman x reader#ashley zuckerman#ashley zukerman smut
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