Fall Out Boy Imagines/Preferences

86. Don't Mess With Ouija Boards - Andy Hurley

"Are you ready for this babe?" Andy asked, setting the bowl of popcorn onto the nightstand table.

You finished fluffing the pillows on the bed. "Of course."

"Are you sure you're not gonna get scared like last time?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "That movie last time was horrible."

"It was the old version of the Poltergeist." Andy raised an eyebrow. "Not even Bronx was scared when he saw it."

"Hey, you know I'm scared of clowns!" You said sticking your bottom lip out slightly.

Andy wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your pouty lips. "I know babe. I'm just joking."

You looked up at him. "You're gonna make sure no evil spirits get me?"

"Scouts honor." Andy crossed his heart. "Now come on, let's start this movie."

You grabbed the bowl of popcorn and climbed under the covers. Andy laid on the bed beside you and wrapped an arm around you tightly.

"What torture device have you rented for us today?" You asked, popping a few kernels into your mouth.

"That new Blair Witch movie." Andy said. "I heard it was terrifying."

"Fun," you mumbled, regretting every decision that lead you to this moment.

Andy hugged you closer to his chest. "Don't worry babe, I got you."

That didn't stop you from squeezing Andy's hand at every loud noise and jump scare.

"Jesus (Y/N), your grip is cutting off my circulation," Andy muttered, prying your hand from his arm. "You left scratches."

"Well that's never bothered you before," you muttered, voice tight with anxiety.

"You got me there," Andy chuckled. "I'm a sucker for pain."

You pointed to the screen. "The black guy is about to die."

"What makes you say that?" Andy pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Well, they always kill off the voice of reason; which is usually the black character. See only stupid white people mess with Ouija boards and evil spirits," you explained.

"Is that so?" Andy mused.

You nodded. "Watch, it'll be him first."

And lo and behold, ten minutes later, he was dead.

"I told you!" You gloated.

"Yeah, yeah. Know-it-all," Andy grinned.

You shifted in bed so you were pressed against his chest. "Ten bucks says the weird chick dies next."

But alas the bet was never resolved, because at that moments the power went out.

You screamed, clutching on to Andy for dear life. "Oh my god we're gonna die."

"Relax." Andy rubbed your back. "We probably blew a fuse. I'll go check the box-"

"No!" You shouted, making Andy jump. "We can't split up, that's the reason most people die in horror movies."

Andy snapped his fingers in front of your face. "Wake up honey, this is real life. Not a horror film."

"We have to make sure this house wasn't built on ancient burial grounds and that no one was murdered!" You reached for your phone. "Do you have a psycho ex who wants revenge-"

"(Y/N)!" Andy interrupted your worried rant. "I'm going to check the fuse box right now and you're going to be fine while I do it." He sat up and grabbed his phone. "In the mean time, try not to waste all our salt."

"That was one time and it only happened because the room got ice cold!" You protested.

"The thermostat was broken!" Andy rolled his eyes. "Stay right here and don't do anything."

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. "Fine, but if I get one hint of demonic activity, I'm going all Winchester."

Andy went down the stairs muttering about lowering your Supernatural intake.

As soon as he was far enough away, you grabbed the salt container and flask of holy water you kept under your pillow and held it close to your chest.

"If the mean man wants to get ghosted by evil spirits, be my guest. But I'll be damned if I die today." You muttered.

The house was silent, and you allowed yourself to relax.

Until you heard a faint creaking noise, as if someone was coming up the stairs slowly.

"Andy!" You called.

No response.

"Andy is that you?" You yelled a little louder. "You better not be playing a joke on me, you little shit."

Again, no response other than the faint creaking of the floorboards.

The door creaked loudly as it was pushed open.

"Not today!" You screamed, throwing salt and holy water at the assailant.

"Babe what the literal fuck?" Andy yelled, turning on his flashlight. He wiped the salty water off of his face. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Under my pillow," you said guiltily.

"I thought we already talked about this," Andy said, disappointment on his face.

You hid the salt behind your back. "You can never be too prepared."

Andy sighed and pulled his soaking wet shirt off. "The power is out, I don't know why though. It's not a fuse."

"So...what I'm hearing is we need to make a salt ring around the bed-"

"Would it make you less apprehensive if we made a salt line?" Andy asked.

You nodded.

"Fine, make the ring, I'm going to get candles." Andy said. "Try not douse me in water."

"Then don't sneak up the stairs like Freddy Krueger and not respond when I repeatedly ask if it's you." You replied, sassily.

"Noted."

Andy returned a moment later with a few candles, a bottle of wine, and two glasses.

"I thought we could make the most of the evening." He lit the candles. "Because our movie date was interrupted."

"Thank God." You muttered under your breath.

Andy handed you a glass of wine. "Here you go."

You sipped from the glass. "You know, you never put another shirt on."

Andy laid beside you, swirling the wine in his glass. "I know. And I don't plan to."

"I could live with that."

You guys spent the rest of the evening cuddling and drinking wine.

And when the lights did come on (scaring you so badly you jumped and grabbed a crucifix), Andy just got up and turned them off again.

This lowkey sucked, but I will redeem myself with the next imagine.

Anywho, check out my book The (Shipped) Gold Imagines for gay ships and feels.