ej I (they/she) I adult I black I lesbian I avid tlou, marvel, starwars, arcane (etc) fan I masc exterior with mushy insides I university student I stuffed animal truther I
I asks are open! will get to them as soon as I can; open to mutals always I
summary: you’re leading your middle school baseball team to the Allegheny County middle school baseball championship. With Harrison Ashcroft as your star pitcher and favorite student, you recount all the times you’ve noticed his mom, Cassie McKay. Known to be a heartbreaker yourself, you find yourself falling back into your lover ways. Cassie Mckay will do that to people, especially you.
authors note: hey gang! it’s been a very long time since the last time i’ve put out a work. lots have changed to say the least #deaddadclub lol. on the brighter side, i’ve finally sat down and wrote. i’ve watched the pitt since season one came out and wanted to write something for my baby. no clue on what a posting schedule will look like, but im excited to try this again. i hope you all have been well and enjoy.
The cool breeze was a nice break from the early summer heat at the Allegheny Middle School baseball field. The sound of encouraging parents, giggly younger siblings hyped up on sugar-filled candy, and the fresh crack of a baseball bat overwhelmed your ears. The hot sun rays tanning your skin reminds you to reapply your sunscreen at the top of the inning. The field was freshly tended and ready for the Allegheny Astros championship run, the first in over twenty years. You were the school’s beloved gym coach. In addition, you also found yourself coaching girls basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. Teachers ask you all the time how you do it, but you love your little gremlins too much to not. There was something so rewarding seeing these awkward kids grow to love a sport and their teammates just the same. Being there for all spotting milestones is what carried you through the long nights and even longer games on the weekends.
The shrill of the umpire's whistle snapped you back into reality. It was the bottom of the 8th inning and the Astros just needed to get the job done. You noticed your star pitcher, Harrison, getting ready to head out to the pitchers mound. To say you didn’t have a soft spot for this kid would be a bold-face lie. Harrison had been very reluctant to start playing on your baseball team when you had encouraged it. He is a very shy kid, so the idea of being in the spotlight really did not look appealing. Yet, the look on his face after his first strikeout of the season made you feel whole. You seemingly were not the only one who was excited at his new found hobby. His father, Chad, was especially ecstatic that his son picked up the sport (and you could tell).
Chad was your least favorite kind of parent. The man showed up to every game parading his far-too-young girlfriend just to backseat-coach. Oftentimes, yelling at Harrison like he’s the general manager of the Pirates. You had a no bullshit policy for parents like these, but once Harrision let you know just why his mom couldn’t make it to games, you had to suck it up and be cordial with that asshole.
You had only spoken to Cassie McKay via quick texts and phone calls. On the days Harrison had with Cassie, you had made an agreement to drop him off at his grandparents after practice. Although you had limited interactions, the auburn woman had stayed on your mind. You had wondered how different Cassie would be from her horrible ex-husband. With the way Harrison talked about his mom, and how sweet of a boy he is, you had figured it had to come from her and only her. To your surprise, you look up in the stands to see a flustered Cassie McKay. She is wearing a black, short-sleeved scrub top with her matching scrub bottoms, assumingly had just rushed here after her shift at PTMC. Her jaw lazily chewing on a piece of gum directs your eyes to her gold chain shimmering in the sunlight; a bead of sweat rolls down her neck. Her strong hands wringing a plastic water bottle as her knee can’t help but jitter. You quickly shake the thought of thirsting over your work-kid’s mom and get back to the very important task at hand. You grab Harrison’s attention before he heads to the mound.
“Hey kid, no matter what happens out there I just want you to know how lucky I am to have you on my team. Go out there and let that shit fly, alright? C’mon here we go!” You tap his helmet with a huge smile.
Harrison giggles at the cuss word flying out of your mouth. You have a habit of letting those “bad words” loose during games.
“That’s a dollar in the jar!” Harrison yells to you as he runs to the mound.
You had promised the team you’d add a dollar to the swear jar for every cuss word you’ve said during the season. The kids decided to use the money for a team barbeque at your house. For some reason middle schoolers are obsessed with knowing every intimate detail about their teachers, including where they live. You shake your head and laugh at the boy in front of you. The second whistle to signal the start of the inning leaves the umpire's mouth. Harrison lets out a long exhale before throwing the first pitch. Ball. You see the call start to weigh in on the kid. You clap your hands and hope Harrison can shake it off.
“It’s okay, baby! You got this!” A loud voice emerges from the stands. Your head turns to the sound to see Cassie cheering her boy on.
Harrison’s eyes light up in excitement for a moment as he sees his mom watching. With another deep breath, he prepares his second pitch.
“Strrrriiiike!” The umpire's voice booms and the bench goes wild.
Harrison looks over to you and all you do is nod with a smile. He’s back in his zone and you know it.
The next pitch and the pitch after that ends with the same fate, and Harrison is on fire. Your eyes can’t help but gravitate towards the beaming smile Cassie McKay has. Her pure pride emanating from her tired eyes makes your assumptions of her feel correct. Her eyes meet yours for a brief second and you feel your breath hitch. A small wink from the lady with the bangs causes your stomach to flip. In a brief panic you awkwardly wave back towards her. Before you could see her reaction, your eyes snapped back towards the field.
“Get it the fuck together” you whisper to yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Cassie found this fairly amusing and definitely endearing. She had only heard the best things about you from Harrison, which started the pique in interest. At first when her son came home asking about starting baseball, Cassie was skeptical. Not that she hated the sport; she’s a huge Pirates fan. Harrison just never particularly brought up an interest in playing the sport on his own. Of course, when she was with Chad, he had dreams of white picket fences and playing catch with his kid. She had hoped that her son’s father would not force him into finding something in common. But then, she saw you. It was a parent teacher conference night and she was able to bribe Shen to come in an hour earlier to relive her. Being an R3 at her age comes with its struggles, and having a 12 year old son complicates that. You were talking to a parent intently when she passed by the gym with her son; Harrison had caught your eye. You sent him a subtle wink as he passed and the boy immediately smiled seeing his favorite teacher. You were dressed in your school sanctioned polo with grey slacks and loafers. Your hair was slicked back, and out of your face. A very simple, yet professional attire for the evening meetings. Yet, all Cassie could stare at was the way your shirt hugged your arms. Or how your thighs filled out your well fitted slacks. She swore she almost passed out when you turned to the side to see how firm your ass was. She shook her head and tried not to think about how she’s perving out on her kids' teacher. Let alone perving out on her kid’s teacher who had to be at least a decade younger than her. Ever since that night, Harrison was not the only one who was obsessed with you. She spent an embarrassing amount of time stalking your Facebook account (she will never admit to). This led to her finding your coaching account on instagram. It looks like during your downtime, you personal train clients and athletes in the greater area. This revelation had her drooling from more places than one. Your account was filled with you hitting PRs; muscles flexing and gleaming with your sweat. And grunting. How could she forget about the whines, groans, and moans that left your plump lips. Just thinking about it makes her stomach flip and her legs weak. As much as she tried, she couldn’t help but watch you.
Then came the text messages. Once the ride agreement was made, you would make sure to keep her updated on when her son made it home safe. This then turned into you setting up a live stream for her to watch games while on break after a very thoughtful text she had sent you.
Cassie hadn’t been able to make any games during the season due to her rigorous work schedule. This caused many nights of tears and frustration; feeling like a failure of a mother, she picked up the phone to text you. She doesn’t make a habit of pouring her heart out to strangers, but she was a little sleep deprived and a whole lot stressed. You had been so sweet with her in reassuring that despite her not making it, Harrison was okay. This had your heart aching with the itch to make the mom feel included. The next day you tried to play it off to the district that many families were asking for live recordings of the games. Yet deep down, you really just wanted Harrison to know his mom could be watching. You couldn’t be more happy for Harrison to have his mom here at the big game…and a little selfishly for yourself too.
The next two at-bats were a clean sweep with Harrison throwing a complete shutdown. You throw your clipboard to the ground and run to the mound at the sound of the final whistle. Your boys had become Allegheny county champions! Your kids damn near trample you embrace them.
“Holy shit guys! I knew you could do it!” You hug your team.
A collective “Swear jar!” erupts from the boys and you cackle.
“I’ll put fifty in the jar just for today, how about that?” You giggle as the boys go crazy.
Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you’ve done after the medal ceremony; the cheap engraved zinc alloy still hung around your neck like an olympic gold medal. These moments you have with these kids keep you going in your darkest of days. You try not to spiral as you start to collect all of the equipment to bring back to your car. Moments like these are when you wish you had someone at home to share with. The meaningless sex at the end of the day is just that– meaningless. Before you could think any harder, you hear your name called from behind.
“I came to finally find out for myself how great the world famous Allegheny Astros coach is for myself. Not that I’m not enjoying this view though.” Says a raspy voice from none other than Cassie McKay.
Your eyes damn near pop out of your head at the very forward flirting attempt from Harrison’s mother. Let’s be real here. You are the furthest thing from being dense. You were no stranger to parents and coworkers alike hitting on you. You weren’t a prude with it either. You were a lover at heart, but after your last heart break, you decided to explore more…fun options. You’ve had flings with a few of your coworkers in the past, which you unfortunately learned makes for really awkward teacher inservice days. Nonetheless, you never felt any connection deeper than the physical with them. None of them could have gotten close to making you feel the way Cassie McKay makes you feel. You haven’t indulged in the feeling for a few very obvious reasons. You value your relationship as a coach and teacher to all of your kids, especially Harrison, Cassie is at least ten years your senior, and there is no way this woman is gay.
You place the ball bag on the ground and walk closer to Cassie.
“I was wondering when I’d get to meet you too, Dr.Mckay.” You smile, trying to remain somewhat professional. There’s no way she meant to be flirty, right?
“Oh please, just call me Cassie, sweetheart. I get enough of that at work.” Her kind eyes and smile make it hard to look away. Her soft lips make it even harder for you to stop imagining them all over.
“Sorry, Cassie it is then. I’m really happy you could make it-I mean I am sure Harrison was super happy you could make it.” You flush, wishing for the field to swallow you whole.
“He has really grown from the start of the season and I really do think we’ve got something special going on.” You smile even harder at the thought of Harrison’s potential.
Cassie finds your enthusiasm endearing and could not have wanted someone better in her son’s life.
“We really could not have done it without you. I mean I know my work schedule really isn’t ideal, but having you in his corner really means something to me, ya know?” Cassie smiles a real and genuine smile that reaches her eyes. You make a note to yourself wanting to make her do that more often.
“I would do anything for that kid and you’ve got my word. These kids really do mean everything to me so really, thank you for letting me help in any way.” You reach your arm out to Cassie’s bicep. Her eyes flicker back to yours as the both of you can’t find it in yourself to move.
Harrison’s laugh breaks the both of you out of your trance as you realize most of the families have cleared the stadium. You clear your throat and look anywhere but at the beautiful woman ahead. Cassie then reaches back out to your belt loop, lightly tugging to grab your attention. The both of you now face to face.
“Let me cook you dinner sometime? Ya know, thank you for everything.” She smirks as you feel your mouth go completely dry. Before you could find the words, you nod like an idiot.
“Uh yeah, yeah I would like that.” You mutter out.
“I’ll text you, yeah? I promised the kid Chili’s for the win.”
warnings: age gap (reader is 32, cassie is 42), reader is a reformed player, smut (18+ audiences only! minors DNI! mentions of: substance abuse, homophobia, complex relationships with sexuality/comphet, and mental health.
summary: you’re leading your middle school baseball team to the Allegheny County middle school baseball championship. With Harrison Ashcroft as your star pitcher and favorite student, you recount all the times you’ve noticed his mom.Known to be a heartbreaker yourself, you find yourself falling back into your lover ways. Cassie Mckay will do that to people, especially you.
summary: you’re leading your middle school baseball team to the Allegheny County middle school baseball championship. With Harrison Ashcroft as your star pitcher and favorite student, you recount all the times you’ve noticed his mom, Cassie McKay. Known to be a heartbreaker yourself, you find yourself falling back into your lover ways. Cassie Mckay will do that to people, especially you.
authors note: hey gang! it’s been a very long time since the last time i’ve put out a work. lots have changed to say the least #deaddadclub lol. on the brighter side, i’ve finally sat down and wrote. i’ve watched the pitt since season one came out and wanted to write something for my baby. no clue on what a posting schedule will look like, but im excited to try this again. i hope you all have been well and enjoy.
The cool breeze was a nice break from the early summer heat at the Allegheny Middle School baseball field. The sound of encouraging parents, giggly younger siblings hyped up on sugar-filled candy, and the fresh crack of a baseball bat overwhelmed your ears. The hot sun rays tanning your skin reminds you to reapply your sunscreen at the top of the inning. The field was freshly tended and ready for the Allegheny Astros championship run, the first in over twenty years. You were the school’s beloved gym coach. In addition, you also found yourself coaching girls basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. Teachers ask you all the time how you do it, but you love your little gremlins too much to not. There was something so rewarding seeing these awkward kids grow to love a sport and their teammates just the same. Being there for all spotting milestones is what carried you through the long nights and even longer games on the weekends.
The shrill of the umpire's whistle snapped you back into reality. It was the bottom of the 8th inning and the Astros just needed to get the job done. You noticed your star pitcher, Harrison, getting ready to head out to the pitchers mound. To say you didn’t have a soft spot for this kid would be a bold-face lie. Harrison had been very reluctant to start playing on your baseball team when you had encouraged it. He is a very shy kid, so the idea of being in the spotlight really did not look appealing. Yet, the look on his face after his first strikeout of the season made you feel whole. You seemingly were not the only one who was excited at his new found hobby. His father, Chad, was especially ecstatic that his son picked up the sport (and you could tell).
Chad was your least favorite kind of parent. The man showed up to every game parading his far-too-young girlfriend just to backseat-coach. Oftentimes, yelling at Harrison like he’s the general manager of the Pirates. You had a no bullshit policy for parents like these, but once Harrision let you know just why his mom couldn’t make it to games, you had to suck it up and be cordial with that asshole.
You had only spoken to Cassie McKay via quick texts and phone calls. On the days Harrison had with Cassie, you had made an agreement to drop him off at his grandparents after practice. Although you had limited interactions, the auburn woman had stayed on your mind. You had wondered how different Cassie would be from her horrible ex-husband. With the way Harrison talked about his mom, and how sweet of a boy he is, you had figured it had to come from her and only her. To your surprise, you look up in the stands to see a flustered Cassie McKay. She is wearing a black, short-sleeved scrub top with her matching scrub bottoms, assumingly had just rushed here after her shift at PTMC. Her jaw lazily chewing on a piece of gum directs your eyes to her gold chain shimmering in the sunlight; a bead of sweat rolls down her neck. Her strong hands wringing a plastic water bottle as her knee can’t help but jitter. You quickly shake the thought of thirsting over your work-kid’s mom and get back to the very important task at hand. You grab Harrison’s attention before he heads to the mound.
“Hey kid, no matter what happens out there I just want you to know how lucky I am to have you on my team. Go out there and let that shit fly, alright? C’mon here we go!” You tap his helmet with a huge smile.
Harrison giggles at the cuss word flying out of your mouth. You have a habit of letting those “bad words” loose during games.
“That’s a dollar in the jar!” Harrison yells to you as he runs to the mound.
You had promised the team you’d add a dollar to the swear jar for every cuss word you’ve said during the season. The kids decided to use the money for a team barbeque at your house. For some reason middle schoolers are obsessed with knowing every intimate detail about their teachers, including where they live. You shake your head and laugh at the boy in front of you. The second whistle to signal the start of the inning leaves the umpire's mouth. Harrison lets out a long exhale before throwing the first pitch. Ball. You see the call start to weigh in on the kid. You clap your hands and hope Harrison can shake it off.
“It’s okay, baby! You got this!” A loud voice emerges from the stands. Your head turns to the sound to see Cassie cheering her boy on.
Harrison’s eyes light up in excitement for a moment as he sees his mom watching. With another deep breath, he prepares his second pitch.
“Strrrriiiike!” The umpire's voice booms and the bench goes wild.
Harrison looks over to you and all you do is nod with a smile. He’s back in his zone and you know it.
The next pitch and the pitch after that ends with the same fate, and Harrison is on fire. Your eyes can’t help but gravitate towards the beaming smile Cassie McKay has. Her pure pride emanating from her tired eyes makes your assumptions of her feel correct. Her eyes meet yours for a brief second and you feel your breath hitch. A small wink from the lady with the bangs causes your stomach to flip. In a brief panic you awkwardly wave back towards her. Before you could see her reaction, your eyes snapped back towards the field.
“Get it the fuck together” you whisper to yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, Cassie found this fairly amusing and definitely endearing. She had only heard the best things about you from Harrison, which started the pique in interest. At first when her son came home asking about starting baseball, Cassie was skeptical. Not that she hated the sport; she’s a huge Pirates fan. Harrison just never particularly brought up an interest in playing the sport on his own. Of course, when she was with Chad, he had dreams of white picket fences and playing catch with his kid. She had hoped that her son’s father would not force him into finding something in common. But then, she saw you. It was a parent teacher conference night and she was able to bribe Shen to come in an hour earlier to relive her. Being an R3 at her age comes with its struggles, and having a 12 year old son complicates that. You were talking to a parent intently when she passed by the gym with her son; Harrison had caught your eye. You sent him a subtle wink as he passed and the boy immediately smiled seeing his favorite teacher. You were dressed in your school sanctioned polo with grey slacks and loafers. Your hair was slicked back, and out of your face. A very simple, yet professional attire for the evening meetings. Yet, all Cassie could stare at was the way your shirt hugged your arms. Or how your thighs filled out your well fitted slacks. She swore she almost passed out when you turned to the side to see how firm your ass was. She shook her head and tried not to think about how she’s perving out on her kids' teacher. Let alone perving out on her kid’s teacher who had to be at least a decade younger than her. Ever since that night, Harrison was not the only one who was obsessed with you. She spent an embarrassing amount of time stalking your Facebook account (she will never admit to). This led to her finding your coaching account on instagram. It looks like during your downtime, you personal train clients and athletes in the greater area. This revelation had her drooling from more places than one. Your account was filled with you hitting PRs; muscles flexing and gleaming with your sweat. And grunting. How could she forget about the whines, groans, and moans that left your plump lips. Just thinking about it makes her stomach flip and her legs weak. As much as she tried, she couldn’t help but watch you.
Then came the text messages. Once the ride agreement was made, you would make sure to keep her updated on when her son made it home safe. This then turned into you setting up a live stream for her to watch games while on break after a very thoughtful text she had sent you.
Cassie hadn’t been able to make any games during the season due to her rigorous work schedule. This caused many nights of tears and frustration; feeling like a failure of a mother, she picked up the phone to text you. She doesn’t make a habit of pouring her heart out to strangers, but she was a little sleep deprived and a whole lot stressed. You had been so sweet with her in reassuring that despite her not making it, Harrison was okay. This had your heart aching with the itch to make the mom feel included. The next day you tried to play it off to the district that many families were asking for live recordings of the games. Yet deep down, you really just wanted Harrison to know his mom could be watching. You couldn’t be more happy for Harrison to have his mom here at the big game…and a little selfishly for yourself too.
The next two at-bats were a clean sweep with Harrison throwing a complete shutdown. You throw your clipboard to the ground and run to the mound at the sound of the final whistle. Your boys had become Allegheny county champions! Your kids damn near trample you embrace them.
“Holy shit guys! I knew you could do it!” You hug your team.
A collective “Swear jar!” erupts from the boys and you cackle.
“I’ll put fifty in the jar just for today, how about that?” You giggle as the boys go crazy.
Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you’ve done after the medal ceremony; the cheap engraved zinc alloy still hung around your neck like an olympic gold medal. These moments you have with these kids keep you going in your darkest of days. You try not to spiral as you start to collect all of the equipment to bring back to your car. Moments like these are when you wish you had someone at home to share with. The meaningless sex at the end of the day is just that– meaningless. Before you could think any harder, you hear your name called from behind.
“I came to finally find out for myself how great the world famous Allegheny Astros coach is for myself. Not that I’m not enjoying this view though.” Says a raspy voice from none other than Cassie McKay.
Your eyes damn near pop out of your head at the very forward flirting attempt from Harrison’s mother. Let’s be real here. You are the furthest thing from being dense. You were no stranger to parents and coworkers alike hitting on you. You weren’t a prude with it either. You were a lover at heart, but after your last heart break, you decided to explore more…fun options. You’ve had flings with a few of your coworkers in the past, which you unfortunately learned makes for really awkward teacher inservice days. Nonetheless, you never felt any connection deeper than the physical with them. None of them could have gotten close to making you feel the way Cassie McKay makes you feel. You haven’t indulged in the feeling for a few very obvious reasons. You value your relationship as a coach and teacher to all of your kids, especially Harrison, Cassie is at least ten years your senior, and there is no way this woman is gay.
You place the ball bag on the ground and walk closer to Cassie.
“I was wondering when I’d get to meet you too, Dr.Mckay.” You smile, trying to remain somewhat professional. There’s no way she meant to be flirty, right?
“Oh please, just call me Cassie, sweetheart. I get enough of that at work.” Her kind eyes and smile make it hard to look away. Her soft lips make it even harder for you to stop imagining them all over.
“Sorry, Cassie it is then. I’m really happy you could make it-I mean I am sure Harrison was super happy you could make it.” You flush, wishing for the field to swallow you whole.
“He has really grown from the start of the season and I really do think we’ve got something special going on.” You smile even harder at the thought of Harrison’s potential.
Cassie finds your enthusiasm endearing and could not have wanted someone better in her son’s life.
“We really could not have done it without you. I mean I know my work schedule really isn’t ideal, but having you in his corner really means something to me, ya know?” Cassie smiles a real and genuine smile that reaches her eyes. You make a note to yourself wanting to make her do that more often.
“I would do anything for that kid and you’ve got my word. These kids really do mean everything to me so really, thank you for letting me help in any way.” You reach your arm out to Cassie’s bicep. Her eyes flicker back to yours as the both of you can’t find it in yourself to move.
Harrison’s laugh breaks the both of you out of your trance as you realize most of the families have cleared the stadium. You clear your throat and look anywhere but at the beautiful woman ahead. Cassie then reaches back out to your belt loop, lightly tugging to grab your attention. The both of you now face to face.
“Let me cook you dinner sometime? Ya know, thank you for everything.” She smirks as you feel your mouth go completely dry. Before you could find the words, you nod like an idiot.
“Uh yeah, yeah I would like that.” You mutter out.
“I’ll text you, yeah? I promised the kid Chili’s for the win.”
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mostly fluff but all my works are 18+, smau elements sprinkled throughout, online meet cute, lots of flirty banter and ellie and dina being the biggest menaces on the planet.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6kish
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: holy fuck, it’s finally done. I’m genuinely so excited to keep writing for these two, I’m literally having the best time ever. thank you to @restl3ss-dr34ms for beta reading this for me. I hope you all enjoy <3
Your room is dim, your face lit by the soft glow of your monitors and the neon green LED strips that line the edges of your ceiling. The low hum of your PC fills the silence, comfortable and familiar. You’ve been live for an hour now, having just finished the newest Fears to Fathom episode and you’re already itching to play something else.
“Alright, chat,” you hum, pursing your lips as you scroll through your Steam library. “What should we play next?”
You glance over at your second monitor and the chat is flying by the way it normally does.
toxic_phantom: BACKROOMS!!!
cosmicxknight25: PHASMO PLEASE
ghostfaceluver69: something new please 🙏🏻
dorkyxxfemme: THE EGG GAME 🙂↕️
You snort, shaking your head at the suggestion. “We are not playing the egg game again, I know you all love watching me rage quit but I’d actually like to preserve what’s left of my sanity today.”
More messages come flooding in, even faster now and more insistent.
slut4billynstew: PHASMO
clihrider: PHASMO
lvsersclub: PHASMO W FRIENDS???? 👀
finalgrls-right-titty: PLS PLAY PHASMOOOO QUEEN
Your lips quirk up into a grin.
“Phasmo, huh?” you echo, already clicking into the game. “I think you guys just really want to hear me scream again.”
Your chat explodes in a flurry of excitement, emotes flooding your screen at a rapid pace. You laugh softly, shaking your head as you click through the menu screens with almost practiced ease. You pause once you see the option for single or multiplayer, hovering your cursor over the latter.
“So, do we have some fun and open it up?” you muse, glancing over at your chat again. “Or do I suffer through this all alone?”
You’re immediately getting a mixture of replies.
gooner4life: your name is finalgrl isn’t it??? SOLO SOLO
dark_killa67: NOOO LETS PLAY WITH SOME RANDOS
ruthlessxghost: let us join a game queen 🙂↕️
“Hey, if there’s a mod in chat, can you run a poll?”
lighthavoc: on it babe xx
“Thanks Dina,” you smile, sitting back to watch the votes come pouring in.
You relax back into your chair, watching in slight amusement as the votes start to pile in at a rapid pace. It’s a pretty close call to begin with but as the seconds continue to tick by, open lobby quickly starts to pull ahead.
“Alright, alright, I’m calling it.” you laugh, adjusting in your chair. “I’ll host a lobby, but we’re making it private this time. I’m not dealing with another rando from TikTok trying to rage bait me.”
You hide your screen again as you create the private lobby, your username, finalgrl appearing at the top of it.
“Okay, I’m only keeping the code up for a few seconds guys,” you explain, hovering your mouse over the share screen button. “If someone manages to sneak in, great. Otherwise we’ll try running it solo.”
You take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as you attempt to prepare yourself for whatever chaos is about to ensue.
“May the odds be ever in your favor.”
You flash the code onscreen and you wait.
One, two, three, four, five—
A new player joins.
“Damn, that was fast,” you mutter, glancing at the player ID card that pops up right below yours—and your heart skips a beat.
“Oh, that’s…” you whisper, already ignoring the flurry of activity in your chat. “That can’t be right.”
It had to be a glitch, or a similar username because there was no way that Abby Anderson—the queen of co-op shooter games had just joined your private lobby to play Phasmophobia of all things.
But when her low, smooth voice filters through your headset barely a minute later, your breath catches.
“Are your streams always this chaotic? Or is it just because I’m here?”
Her voice is unmistakable—you’d watched enough of her streams and spent too many sleepless nights binging her old VODS to miss the teasing edge in it. Your pulse suddenly spikes in a way that has nothing to do with the game and for a moment you can’t move, can’t speak without your voice threatening to shake.
And your chat?
They’re losing their minds.
sp00kybitch: THERES NO WAY
livingdeadgurl: DREAM COLLAB
darkblade28: LONEWLF IS HERE????
downwiththethickness69: MY TWO FAVS IN THE SAME LOBBY???
You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, trying (and failing) to sound composed.
“I guess it depends, do you make a habit of joining other people’s lobbies uninvited, or should I feel honored?”
“Uninvited, huh?” she echoes, clearly amused. “You shared your code, seemed like a pretty open invitation to me.”
“So you’re just lurking in my live now?” you ask, a little too defensively. “That’s kinda creepy, Anderson.”
She chuckles softly, and somehow it’s worse now that it’s being directed at you.
“It’s Abby,” she corrects smoothly, and you hate how it makes your stomach flip. “But honestly, I’ve been tuning in for a while now.”
Your brain short circuits for half a second.
redrumxredrum: SHE WATCHES YOUR STREAMS???
sapphicxmoon: OH MY GODDDDD
oogie_boogie_bitch: CHAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL
That really shouldn’t affect you as much as it does.
Abby has a massive following—she’s been streaming for years, pulling the kind of numbers you still can’t seem to fully wrap your head around. Your community is much smaller in comparison, so realistically, she shouldn’t even know you exist.
Which makes this whole thing feel entirely too surreal.
“…Why?” you finally manage, sounding bewildered.
“Do I need a reason?”
The way she says it causes something warm to settle beneath your ribs, outweighing any of your initial annoyance but you still hesitate before replying. Which is entirely ridiculous, considering that she’s only been in your lobby for all of 30 seconds and is somehow already managing to throw you off balance. So you take a deep breath and adjust your headset, feigning that’s the reason for the extended pause.
“That’s not really an answer.”
“Wow,” she hums, and you swear you can hear the subtle smirk in her voice. “Didn’t think I’d make you so nervous…it’s kinda cute.”
Heat instantly creeps up the back of your neck.
But what’s worse is that she’s not wrong, the mere idea of her made you nervous.
She was infuriatingly gorgeous, all smooth confidence and cocky bravado when it came to her skill on screen. But she clearly had every right to be, there was a reason she was one of Twitch’s most popular streamers right now. You’d seen too many clips, secretly watched the thirst edits, and you found yourself becoming more enthralled by her dry humor and quick wit than you’d ever dare to admit.
“—I’m not nervous,” you quickly try to deflect, your eyes flicking back over to your second monitor where your chat is continuing to spiral alongside you.
5nightsatfuckthis: CUTE??? SHE CALLED HER CUTE 😭
clitsucker5000: GURL UR SO COOKED
petals4armor: why is abby lowkey flirting?!
gaylilghoul: IM SO INVESTED!!!!
“Chat,” you sigh. “Behave.”
She laughs again, softer this time.
“Careful,” she murmurs. “Or you’ll convince them that I do make you nervous.”
You scoff. “In your dreams, Ander—”
“Abby,” she corrects again.
You exhale sharply through your nose. “Fine, Abby. Are we actually going to play the game, or do you plan to psychoanalyze me all night?”
“I don’t know,” she hums. “Sounds kinda fun.”
“You’re annoying,” you mutter.
“You like it.”
here4thebiceps: OOO CLOCKED IT
anxiouslezbean: enemies to lovers arc confirmed!!!
downbad4ripley: wait, why am i kinda nervous too 🤭😮💨
lighthavoc: reading you to filth btw
“Just choose the equipment,” you snap, turning toward the corkboard. “I’m picking the map.”
“Are you always this bossy?” she asks, that cocky edge returning.
“When it’s warranted.”
Your phone buzzes to life not a second later, drawing your attention away from the screen as you unlock your messages and you have to swallow a groan of annoyance.
smellie <3: dude
smellie <3: this is painful to watch
You don’t bother to respond to her, immediately flipping your phone face down on your desk. You gently bite your lower lip as you scoot your chair closer to your screen, using your mouse to carefully hover over each of the different map locations:
But when a certain polaroid catches your eye, you have to hold back an amused snicker as you lock in your choice.
“…seriously?” Abby asks.
You fully lean back in your chair, barely able to hide your smug expression.
“What?” you reply, casually. “Is it too much for you?”
She huffs. “It’s a big map.”
“Well, I thought you could use a bit of a challenge.”
spookiedookie: OMFG
ruthelessxghost: THE TENSION???
flickingmybean: just kiss already 😭
“Or,” she prods, her voice lowering ever so slightly. “You’re just looking for a reason to get rid of me.”
Your breath catches again, your fingers tightening on the mouse as you hover your cursor over the Ready Up button.
That’s the entire problem though—you don’t want to get rid of her. Not even a little bit.
“Well, you’re still in my lobby, aren’t you?” you reply, but this time there’s hardly any bite behind your words.
There’s a slight pause, then Abby hums again—low and thoughtful in your ear and you have to suppress a shiver.
“Yeah,” she says, a little less teasing this time. “Ready up?”
“Ready up.”
The loading screen stares tauntingly back at you, your foot bouncing restlessly beneath your desk as the seconds continue to drag on.
“You seem tense,” Abby comments casually, that subtle mirth creeping back into her voice.
You exhale slowly through your nose. “I’m not tense.”
Another quiet, unconvinced hum filters through your headset. “Sure.”
And you’re suddenly very grateful that you can only hear her, because if you had to see the cocky, amused expression you know she’s sporting right now—it might actually kill you.
A strange sort of silence settles between you then, not exactly awkward but charged. Like something is continuing to build and is just waiting for the right moment before it spills over completely.
Your eyes flick over to your second monitor again, and you instantly regret it.
finalgrls-right-titty: HOW LONG TILL THEY START FLIRTING AGAIN CHAT???
petals4armor: EASY BEFORE THEY EVEN LEAVE THE TRUCK
downbad4ripley: LETS BET ON IT 😈👹
“Chat, no one is flirting,” you mutter, your tone sounding overly defensive even to your own ears. “You’re all delusional.”
Your phone buzzes three times in rapid succession, pulling your attention away from your monitor again as you unlock it.
smellie <3: you’d be a TERRIBLE actress btw
smellie <3: that was not convincing
smellie <3: AT ALL
You sigh, your thumbs flying across the keyboard.
me: mind your business ellie
When you glance back up, a bright purple banner flashes across your screen—
Your eyes widen as bets immediately start pouring in.
lvsersclub: IM ALL IN BABY
clihrider: been saving my channel points for a moment like this 🙂↕️
anxiouslezbean: UNDER!!! UNDER!!!
dark_killa67: there is no way they last longer than that 😭
“Dina, what the—” you sit up straighter, staring in mock horror at your screen. “Why the hell is there a prediction for that?”
lighthavoc: I’m invested 🤷🏻♀️
A quiet laugh floats through your headset. “Wow, even your own mod doesn’t have much faith in you.”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the sudden warmth creeping into your cheeks.
“Shut up.”
Abby pauses for a second, then her voice is suddenly louder—like she’s leaning closer to her mic. “Make me.”
The loading screen suddenly flickers, before dissolving completely as the two of you spawn into the truck.
Saved by the fucking bell.
You turn, immediately latching onto the nearest distraction you can find—the prediction banner still pending on your screen.
“Dina,” you mutter flatly. “End it. Now.”
You ignore the flood of negative remarks from the chat as it disappears and some of the tension releases from your shoulders.
“You’re lucky that I love you, Di,” you murmur, glancing at your chat quickly before moving your character forward and toward the information board. “Ellie lost her mod privileges for way less.”
Your phone buzzes again, and you purposely ignore it. But all too soon, you see Ellie’s username appearing in your chat.
strayteeth: talking shit I see
strayteeth: two can play at that game
“Alright, let’s see,” you immediately pivot, choosing to focus on the board instead as your eyes quickly scan over the information. “So our ghost this round is…” You pause as a small, almost disbelieving huff leaves your lips. “Betty Davis.”
A low, amused snort sounds from behind you.
“Guess one of their developers has a sense of humor,” you mutter as your eyes suddenly hover over a key piece of information.
The ghost only responds to people who are alone…
Perfect.
“Well,” you continue, attempting to slip your tone back into something more casual. “It looks like we’ll need to split up.”
You turn and immediately flinch because Abby’s character is standing directly behind yours.
But before you can make some snarky remark about personal space, a new purple banner flickers across your screen.
“Dina…” you trail off, exasperated. “Seriously?”
lighthavoc: what? had to keep things interesting since you ruined all my fun.
strayteeth: my points are on you btw
You sigh. “Of course they are, Ellie.”
strayteeth: well don’t fucking die then??
lighthavoc: yeah don’t embarrass us babe
“You two are the worst,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I hate it here.”
Abby, who has been unusually quiet during this whole interaction, suddenly laughs—soft and utterly fond and your stomach immediately flutters.
“But I thought you thrived on chaos, final girl?”
The nickname lands too easily, the words sound too familiar rolling off her tongue and you freeze as you come to the unfortunate realization that she hadn’t been messing with you earlier.
She really does watch your streams.
That phrase—I thrive on chaos is something you say all the time. It’s usually said in jest, whenever your chat or the game you’re playing gets a little out of control but the fact that she remembered it at all does something very annoying to your heart.
After a long moment, you finally lift your head from your hands, focusing on her character that’s still standing way too close to yours in the game.
“So, you really do watch my streams, huh?”
“Yeah,” she replies simply, any trace of teasing gone.
Biting your lip, you silently turn back to the board, attempting to focus on reading the main objectives for the round but your thoughts are suddenly far too loud for you to ignore.
Abby’s presence in your stream tonight wasn’t purely accidental, or a one-time occurrence that you secretly tried to convince yourself that it was. She’s clearly been here for a while, silently watching, listening and paying attention to you in a way that feels incredibly intentional and far too intimate.
And you hate how much you like it.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” she comments, her voice right over your shoulder.
“Just reading,” you answer too quickly.
“Hm,” she hums. “You seem distracted.”
“I’m thinking—”
“About me?”
And fuck. How was she able to see you through you that easily?
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snap, turning sharply and brushing past her character to reach for the nearest equipment on the wall.
Flashlight, EMF, thermometer.
Out of habit, your eyes flick back over to your chat and you have to bite back a groan.
lighthavoc: under five would’ve won btw
strayteeth: so pay up loser 🫵🏻
But you don’t bother to acknowledge either of them.
“Grab some gear,” you sigh, quickly heading toward the back of the truck. “And try not to get lost.”
“I think I’ll manage,” Abby replies dryly, her character sliding in beside yours a moment later. “But it’s sweet that you’re so concerned about me.”
“I’m not,” you insist, clicking on the keypad a little harder than initially intended. “Just don’t need you slowing me down.”
The doors open and lightning flashes briefly across the sky.
“Right.” She mumbles under her breath, following you out into the dark.
The beam of your flashlight cuts across the empty hallway, the light reflecting off the metal lockers on either side. The empty school looms ahead, and the eerie silence is already putting you on edge.
“We should find the fuse box,” Abby says, the first to break the silence. “Our sanity isn’t going to last very long in the dark.”
“Good call,” you murmur, brows furrowing as you try to remember the handful of places the fuse box might be located on this map.
“Wow, that was almost a compliment.”
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it.”
gaylilghoul: anddddd they’re already flirting again
here4thebiceps: can cut that tension with a 🔪🔪🔪
5nightsatfuckthis: the ghost be third wheeling rn help 😭
Your heart thuds erratically as a bright flash of lightning illuminates the empty hallway, and you almost swear that you see a shadow moving near the end of it. So you quickly pull out your thermometer, but so far the temperature doesn’t budge.
“Okay,” you say after a beat, turning to face her. “Let’s split up, so we can cover more ground.”
“…you still think that’s a good idea?”
You release a small sigh, your eyes flicking up to look directly at your camera before continuing down the dark hall.
“Don’t tell me that you’re chickening out on me already.”
And it’s like you can physically hear that she’s rolling her eyes.
“Trust me, I’m not.” She remarks, following you further down the hall. “But isn’t that what someone who dies first in a horror movie would say?”
“Okay, first of all,” you scoff. “Rude.”
But the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth anyway. Then you’re pushing open one of the classroom doors and it creaks loud enough that you flinch.
“And second of all…” you recover, letting your flashlight sweep across the mostly empty room. “I would absolutely survive a horror movie.”
“Says the one who just flinched because of a creaky door.”
And your absolutely chat explodes on impact.
oogie_boogie_bitch: BOOM ROASTEDDDDD
strayteeth: FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT
livingdeadgurl: lonewlf coming in for the kill 😭😭
You narrow your eyes at your second monitor. “You know what? I think I’ll take my chances with the ghost.”
You quickly exit the classroom, ignoring her soft laughter that echoes behind you as you round the corner to head for the stairs.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go find the fuse box?”
Abby’s quiet for a moment, then she hums again, the sound low and teasing in your ear. “Say please, and I will.”
Your breath catches, and your character freezes halfway up the stairs. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
You turn and find her character waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs, her flashlight pointed directly at you.
sp00kybitch: OH???
dorkyxxfemme: SHE’S CRAZY FOR THAT 😭
clitsucker5000: abby’s got GAME
slut4billynstew: FINALGRL STAY STRONG
“You are unbelievably annoying.”
She laughs again, the sound settling low in your stomach. “Still waiting on that please, final girl.”
The casual use of your username has heat crawling up the back of your neck once more, and you glare at your monitor.
“Fine,” you grit out. “Will you please go find the fuse box?”
“There you go,” she murmurs, and you desperately try to ignore the way your entire body warms at the subtle praise. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
But this time you don’t give her the satisfaction of a reply, immediately turning to continue back up the stairs while trying to stifle a stupid grin the entire way.
There’s absolutely no reason for this to feel so natural, so easy—like you’ve known her for years and not mere minutes.
And your chat is moving so fast now that it’s nearly unreadable.
gooner4life: SHES SO FLUSTERED HELP 😭😭😭
lighthavoc: mind you they’ve been playing for all of 5 minutes
tigolebiddies: arguing like an old married couple smh
“Guys stop,” you mutter softly, dragging a hand down your face. “You’re making this weird.”
lvsersclub: WE’RE MAKING IT WEIRD???
strayteeth: says the one flirting in front of 2 thousand people 🤨
You aggressively ignore them now.
However, the moment you step foot on the second level, your entire demeanor changes.
You sit up a little straighter in your chair, your brow furrows ever so slightly as you continue deeper into the dark. The energy up here feels different, less stagnant—more intense somehow. And when a door slams from somewhere behind you, you jolt forward in your chair so hard that you nearly smack your foot against the leg of your desk.
“Shit, shit—shit!” You curse, immediately forcing your character forward into a sprint down the dark hallway.
“You good up there?” Abby’s voice sounds over the walkie and you groan.
“I’m fine,” you huff, slightly embarrassed by your immediate overreaction. “Aren’t you supposed to be finding the fuse—”
But you stop short when the overhead lights flicker to life.
“You were saying?” She says far too smugly.
lurker4life: OOOOOOOOOOOO
redrumxredrum: SHE GOT YOUR ASS
flickingmybean: lonewlf gets the job done 🫡
You stop just outside the lecture hall, and you can absolutely hear how wide she’s grinning now—but annoyingly enough the sound of her voice seems to calm your nerves slightly.
“You’re insufferable,” you mumble dejectedly.
"You mean useful?”
You snort. “Jury’s still out on that one.”
“Ouch,” she chuckles. “You’re welcome by the way…”
“Thanks.”
You quickly slip inside the lecture hall, rolling your shoulders back as you attempt to focus on the task at hand.
Find the ghost room.
You pull out your thermometer again as the lights above you flicker slightly, and the temperature immediately starts to drop.
“I’ve got temps dropping up here,” you say into your walkie.
“Where are you?” she asks.
But you don’t have a chance to answer when the lights above you flicker violently before going out completely and your stomach drops. That familiar heartbeat audio cue fills your headset a second later, which can only mean one thing—the ghost is hunting.
toxic_phantom: damn a hunt this early?????
sp00kybitch: the ghost must be feeling the tension between them 🙂↕️
“Oh fuck this,” you squeak, immediately rushing out of the lecture hall and down the darkened hallway.
Ghostly footsteps drag behind you as you turn the corner and you rush into the nearest classroom, tucking yourself away in the corner. You quickly click your flashlight off, bathing yourself in complete darkness. You don’t have enough time to mute your mic as you hear the footsteps drawing closer, so you dramatically slap a hand over your mouth.
You wait there for what feels like an eternity, only breathing a sigh of relief when the overhead lights flicker back on.
“What room are you in?” Abby’s voice comes over the walkie barely a second later, her tone suddenly far more insistent.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you quip, slipping out of the classroom to head back toward the lecture hall.
But what she says next is far more devastating to your nervous system than anything else that’s occurred in the last ten minutes.
Because she says your name—not your screen name but your real name.
And you almost guide your character directly into a wall.
tigolebiddies: OMG WHY IS ABBY LOWKEY WORRIED IM SICK
ghostfaceluver69: finalgrl buffering in real time 😭
spookiedookie: USING HER GOVERNMENT NAME IS CRAZY BTW
“Did you just run into a wall?” She snorts, that amused edge slipping back into her voice.
“No,” you scoff, sinking deeper into your chair as your eyes flick back over to your second monitor.
sapphicxmoon: LIARRRRRR
strayteeth: SOMEONE CLIP THAT RN
“Ellie, don’t you have anything better to do?”
strayteeth: no ♥️
lighthavoc: @.lonewlf she’s heading to the lecture hall btw
“I’m disowning both of you,” you mutter, righting yourself before continuing quickly down the hall.
When you reach the door of the lecture hall, you faintly hear your name being called again. But this time it’s not through the walkie, it’s much closer as the proximity chat begins to pick up her voice once more and your heart does a nervous little flip.
Abby rounds the corner a second later, flashlight lowered at her side.
“There you are,” she says, sounding oddly relieved for someone who has spent the last twenty minutes actively tormenting you.
“Aw, did you miss me?” you tease, low and saccharine sweet as you push open the door, all while trying to ignore the way her presence seems to settle something in your chest.
And for the first time all night, Abby doesn’t have some smug response at the ready.
“Maybe a little,” she admits, following behind you into the lecture hall.
The raw honesty in her voice sends you spiraling almost immediately, no longer even trying to pay attention when she pulls out the spirit box.
“Hey,” her voice cuts through your jumbled thoughts a moment later. “Still with me?”
“Yeah,” you sit a little straighter in your chair. “Let’s do this.”
The two of you fall into an easy rhythm after that, working in tandem to slowly go through each evidence type and marking them off in your journals.
“Well, there’s no orbs on the camera,” you sigh, following her out of the van and back into the school.
“I told you there wouldn’t be,” she says, more thoughtful than smug. “This has to be a demon or a moroi.”
“Or it’s a shade,” you counter.
You glance over at your second monitor for the first time in a while and instantly release a groan.
strayteeth: why did this get weirdly domestic all of a sudden 🤨
lighthavoc: shut up babe, my new fav show is on
oogie_boogie_bitch: first date realness ✨
“Your chat seems awfully convinced that this is a date.”
You snort softly, ignoring the flutter in your stomach at the mere mention of a date and Abby in the same sentence. “I prefer to be wined and dined actually, not being hunted down by an evil spirit.”
bbqsauceonmytiddies: WINED DINED & 69’ED 😎
“Oh my god,” you choke out, laughing despite yourself. “I hate every single one of you.”
Beside you, Abby lets out an amused snort. “Dually noted, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
Your eyes immediately flick up toward your camera. “Well, that’s extremely forward.”
“Hey, you’re the one that brought up being wined and dined, not me.”
“Right, because obviously an abandoned, haunted school is your idea of a romantic setting.”
Abby laughs softly, the sound immediately warming your insides. “Well, I guess it depends, are you having a good time?”
Her question catches you off guard more than it probably should have. Because despite everything that’s happened since she first joined your lobby, you actually are having a good time. A lot more than you’ve ever had streaming with someone new like this, and that thought both scares and excites you in equal measure.
You quickly duck your head, your cheeks feeling entirely too warm as you move past her character into the lecture hall.
“Maybe a little bit,” you mumble after a short pause. “But don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late for that.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re unable to stop yourself from grinning. “Alright, Casanova, back to it.”
And even though you can’t see her, you can absolutely tell that she’s smiling too.
The two of you slip back into that easy flow almost immediately as Abby heads to the back of the room, crouching near some scattered desks to set the ghost writing book on the floor while you pull out the EMF reader and start to sweep it across the room.
“The spirit box was crossed off, right?” she asks.
“Mhm,” you reply, glancing back down at the reader. “And the orbs. But I’m not getting much on the EMF just yet.”
“So assuming my theory is correct,” she continues, turning to face you. “We need fingerprints and ghost writing.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes again. “Bold of you to assume—”
The distinct scratch of a pen across paper stops you short and you rush to Abby’s side just in time to witness the pen floating on its own, frantically scribbling across the piece of notebook paper.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” you say before she even has the chance to gloat, checking ghost writing off in your journal. “It could still be a shade.”
“Uh huh,” she murmurs, entirely too impressed with herself.
And as much as you want to be annoyed, you aren’t. Because something about this feels so natural, so easy—like you’ve known her for years and not a half an hour. Which is why your next thought slips past your lips before you can really stop it.
“You know, you’re weirdly good at this,” you grumble, your tone bordering on accusatory. “For someone I’ve never even seen play Phasmo before.”
You continue past her character to head back toward the podium, not even realizing what you just revealed and the silence between you stretches a moment too long.
“So,” Abby says finally, amusement creeping back into her voice. “You watch my streams too?”
Your hand freezes on the mouse, your character stopping midway down the center aisle.
“I mean, I’ve seen clips…” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant, but your voice sounds even less convincing in your own ears.
Abby hums again, clearly not buying it. And you’re absolutely certain by the time you log off for the night, that sound will be the thing that finally ends you—if the ghost doesn’t beat her to it.
As if on cue, a textbook suddenly flies off of the podium, slicing through the air between you and you jerk back in your chair.
“Jesus, fuck!” you yelp, the abrupt movement yanking the cord of your headset right from the audio jack.
Abby’s laughter follows almost immediately, only this time it’s louder and far more genuine than anything you’ve ever heard all night. It fills the empty air in your bedroom, which somehow feels even more intimate than just hearing it echo through your headphones.
You quickly scramble to plug your headset back in, feigning annoyance. But your scowl falters as her laughter fades into something much softer, almost fonder, which is doing irreversible damage to your insides.
strayteeth: Y’ALL BETTER BE CLIPPING THIS SHIT
5nightsatfuckthis: ON IT BOSS 🫡
lighthavoc: the tiktok editors are gonna have a field day with this one lmao
“Well, I’m glad you find my terror so amusing,” you chide, readjusting your headset.
“I think it’s adorable actually.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, entirely embarrassed but completely incapable of putting any real malice behind your words.
But Abby just laughs again, which unfortunately isn’t doing anything to help your already flustered state.
“Okay, focus,” you mutter, mostly to yourself as you pull out the ultraviolet flashlight from your inventory.
“I am focused,” she scoffs.
You release a small groan. “You know, you’re really not helping right now.”
“That’s not what you said a few minutes ago.”
“I said you were weirdly good at this, not that you were helpful.”
“Basically the same thing, isn’t it?”
“Abby…” you warn.
“Okay, okay,” she says with another laugh, “I’ll stop.”
“Thank you,” you sigh, relieved.
“For at least another thirty seconds.”
“Abby!” you hiss, completely exasperated.
“What? I’m just setting realistic expectations.”
You just shake your head with a roll of your eyes before pointing the light at the book that just nearly assaulted you both. A large handprint immediately blooms beneath the purple glow and you sink a little deeper into your chair because, of course, she has to be right about this too.
The universe must really have it in for you today.
“So, Betty Davis is a demon,” she says, not even attempting to hide her exuberance. “Who would've guessed that?”
“Are you always this infuriating?” You quip, already circling the word demon in your journal with a frown. “Or is this just your terrible attempt at flirting?”
A beat passes.
“I mean, I wouldn’t call it terrible.”
finalgrls-right-titty: OH MY GODDDDD
anxiouslezbean: SHE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT OMG
omniouspoot: 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣
And for a solid five seconds, your brain stops functioning altogether.
strayteeth: I think she broke her lmao
lighthavoc: someone check to see if our girl is still breathing 😭😭
lvsersclub: rip finalgrl 🪦
“You still alive over there?” Abby asks, still sounding entirely too pleased with herself.
“I’m perfectly fine,” you huff, finally regaining enough of your composure to turn and start heading for the door. “You coming or are you gonna start flirting with the demon too?”
Abby just snorts, still overly amused as she follows you out of the room and into the dimly lit hall.
“Would that bother you?” she asks, almost too casually once you reach the top of the stairs.
You immediately stop walking. “Would what bother me?”
And for the first time all night, Abby seems to hesitate.
“You know…” she starts, slower now, like she’s choosing her words carefully. “If I did start flirting with it.”
You let out a short, disbelieving laugh before continuing down the stairs. “You’re insane.”
“That’s not a no,” she hums, already keeping pace with you again.
“We are not having this conversation right now.”
Your eyes flicker back over to where your chat is actively losing their minds.
strayteeth: THATS 👏🏻 NOT 👏🏻 A 👏🏻NOOOO
lurker4life: IM SCREAMING
dorkyxxfemme: “we aren’t having this conversation right now” is the most obvious non-denial denial I’ve ever heard in my life. 😭😭
“I’m banning all of you,” you grumble, willing your character to move faster.
“That seems a bit harsh…”
“You encouraged this!”
“I did no such thing,” she objects.
You shoot your camera a look.
“Okay,” she concedes with a small laugh. “Maybe just a tad.”
The entrance is finally within your sight now, as another flash of lightning shines through the broken window panes and casts harsh shadows along the floor.
Everything is done. The ghost has been identified and all your evidence has been collected. Now all that’s left is getting back to the truck and pretending like the last five minutes never even happened.
If you were only that lucky.
It’s as if the ghost has grown tired of hearing the two of you constantly bickering, because as soon as Abby crosses over the threshold, the front doors immediately slam shut and the lock clicks firmly in place with you still stuck on the other side.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hiss, immediately gripping your mouse tighter as that heart beat audio cue fills your ears once more.
“Oh no,” Abby murmurs, actively trying to stifle a laugh.
“This is your fault.”
“My fault, huh?”
“Abby,” you huff, sprinting down the hall toward an empty classroom. “Just know that if I fucking die right now, I’m absolutely coming back to haunt your ass.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” she muses.
You mute yourself before you can say something that might actually get you killed, relieved that now no one can hear your small squeak of surprise when the ghost suddenly materializes at the end of the dark hallway.
You duck inside the first classroom you reach, quickly crouching to hide under the teacher’s desk.
The ghostly footsteps outside the room grow louder as the seconds continue to tick by, and you curl yourself deeper into your gaming chair as if that will help you to somehow remain hidden.
“Hey,” Abby’s voice comes through on the walkie barely a second later. “You’re doing fine, just breathe.”
But her words of encouragement only seem to aid in causing your pulse to spike even higher than before.
Then the footsteps suddenly stop, directly outside the classroom you’re in. The muscles in your shoulders tense, and you quickly remove your hands from your setup lest you accidentally hit a button and totally fuck everything up.
You sit there in complete silence for who knows how long, only releasing the breath you were holding when the audio cue finally fades into the background again. An overwhelming sense of relief hits you then, and you practically slide right out of your chair.
“You okay in there?” Abby’s voice comes over the walkie—half concerned, half amused.
“Define okay,” you snort, getting yourself situated again before you move your character out of their hiding spot. “Because I think I just almost had a heart attack.”
Abby’s soft laughter crackles through your headset again. “Yeah, but you didn’t.”
“Thank you for that incredibly insightful observation, Abigail.”
“Anytime.”
You don’t even bother to hide your grin this time as you rush toward the front doors. “You’re lucky that I think you’re funny.”
“Glad to know the feeling is mutual,” she murmurs, and something in your chest flutters.
The rain is coming down in heavy sheets by the time you make it back out to the truck and when the doors shut and the debriefing screen loads, you’ve come to a devastating realization that you don’t want this to end just yet.
You allow your eyes to flicker across the results for a moment longer, a soft smile beginning to tug at the corner of your mouth. It was a near perfect investigation—probably one of the best in your entire history of playing Phasmophobia.
But that’s not the real reason why you’re grinning like an idiot.
“You know, we actually made a pretty good team back there,” she says, sounding far too sincere.
The sudden admission catches you off guard, but she’s right.
“Yeah,” you admit quietly. “We kinda did.”
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
And somehow that feels far more dangerous than anything that’s been said all night.
“So…you wanna go again?” you ask softly.
“Sure,” she replies, almost too easily. “Run it back?”
“Yeah,” you murmur, adjusting your headset. “Let’s run it back.”
Hey darlings :>
i'm back and have decided to make Tumblr my main posting site for now since any other social media repels me lowkey :/
anyway, have some abby I did last year