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auroralwriting · 29 days

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spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

spencer gets shot, and you don't know who you need to forgive: him, or yourself.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: no use of y/n, spencer gets shot, season 9, blood and violence, criminal minds type violence, negative self thoughts, angsty but it turns fluffy, spencer's drug addiction is discussed, best friends to lovers

The ringing in your ears overwhelmed you. Shots were firing all around, and you didn't know what to do. You'd never been in a shoot-out before, and you felt panicked.

Spencer was beside you, hidden behind the car door as he fired some shots. You watched as an officer in front of you was shot.

You knew it was the worst idea to go out there, but the man could be alive. Your legs moved before you realized it, and you were attempting to drag the officer's body. Spencer and Alex both yelled for you, running out to grab you. Right as Alex grabbed your arm, Spencer pushed you closer to her, which was very out of character for him.

It was then you heard another bullet rip through skin.

The sound that came from Spencer was one you couldn't quite describe, but could never forget. Immediately, you noticed the blood seeping from his neck of all places.

"Spencer!" Your voice was broken and loud as you yelled, grabbing onto him. Derek made a jump, helping you and Alex move him behind the car again.

"No, no," Alex muttered, putting pressure on Spencer's neck. "Look at me, okay? Don't close your eyes,"

You sat behind her, shaking your head as tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "Oh my god, oh my god," You repeated, shock flooding your system.

"Ethan, look at me! Ethan!"

For a moment, you didn't realize who Blake was talking to, until you saw Spencer's shut eyes. "Spencer, Spencer wake up." You crawled over, shaking his shoulder. "Please, I need you, I need you with me forever. You're my best-- Alex, why is there so much blood?"

You helped Alex stop the bleeding, but it was so much. After what felt like years, the paramedics arrived. You and Alex fought to ride with him, and somehow, they let both of you. The woman held you to her side as she urged you to look away, but the sight of Spencer's dying body never left your eyes. Were you even blinking? Breathing? It didn't feel like it.

Spencer was rushed to surgery immediately. You didn't even get to say goodbye when you and Alex were sent to the waiting room. The two of you didn't speak for a while, until an hour or so later.

"Who's Ethan?"

Alex turned to you, "Ethan was my son."

"He passed?" You asked.

"When he was nine. I begged him to look at me." Alex bit her lip as you squeezed your eyes shut. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

You reached for her hand, which she took. "I don't blame you." You admitted, looking over to her with teary eyes. "Do what your heart tells you to, Alex. Don't let us determine what you're happy doing."

Alex gave your hand a squeeze as the silence took over once more as you waited. Penelope sent word that she was on her way, and you hoped it would be soon. Her cheerful demeanor was what you needed.

Finally, the doctor came to tell you Spencer had narrowly avoided death. You felt a breath release, one you didn't know you were holding. The man lead you both to Spencer's room.

Your first thought was about how peaceful he looked. Then, the panic set in when you saw the IV in his arm. "What medications will he be given?" You quickly asked before the doctor could leave the room.

The doctor listed a couple of medications when one caught your attention, "...Gabapentin, Hydromorphone--"

"Stop, what are those? Opioids?" You questioned.

"Uh, yes. Both are in the dilaudid family--"

You shook your head, "He can't have those. He had a drug addiction to dilaudid. Give him something else."

The doctor gave you a hesitant look, "Agent, those are what we recommend--"

"I don't give a damn, what else can you give him?" You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Uh, Morphine would be the most basic and cover the most ground." The doctor sheepishly responded.

With an exasperated look, you said, "Then write that down. That's what he'll be getting. Monitor the doses, too. I don't want to risk a relapse. If you have any questions, I'm his second emergency contact. First is Aaron Hotchner, he can attest--"

"It's really alright, miss." The doctor said, slowly stepping back. "We took note. I'll see to it that it is followed."

The doctor left and Alex chuckled, "You scared him."

"Good," You replied, sitting down next to Spencer. Alex took the other side as you carefully took his hand. "It's my fault, you know."

Alex's brows furrowed, "What?"

"It's my fault he got shot." You repeated, pinching the bridge of your nose tightly as you squeezed your eyes shut. "I was to his right. He pushed me out of the way. My head is just where his shoulder is, and he bent down to push me. It was meant to be a headshot, Alex."

Softly, Alex grabbed your hand across Spencer's body. "Sweetheart, that doesn't make it your fault. You couldn't have controlled Spencer's actions."

With a sniffle, you tearfully looked up to Alex. "Alex, please be with him when he wakes up. He's my best friend, and I failed him. I- I just can't."

Alex wanted to argue you, to tell you that you were exactly what Spencer needed when he woke up, but she also took into account your needs, too. "Alright," she sighed. "But please, come back after to see him, alright?"

"Yeah," You nodded, biting your lip.

Remembering the moment Spencer got shot was like it was from another lifetime, even if it was just from a few mere hours ago. You remembered exactly what you did, but looking back, it felt like you replayed every moment you'd ever had with the genius. Every lingering touch, every time he made your heart swirl. You would've never gotten to kiss him, or tell him you liked him. It was too much for your heart to bare.

Penelope showed up later on, setting up some Doctor Who action figures for Spencer to see when he woke up. The sight of it made you sick. Knowing he would need to see something good when he opened his eyes was too much, too soon. You excused yourself, leaving the room in a hurry as you left the hospital.

For a while, you sat in the black SUV provided by the police. You just needed space, air to breathe. After some calming breaths, you decided to get Spencer some flowers to cheer up his dull room.

The florist was only fifteen minutes away, so that's where you headed. When you walked in, the woman behind the counter noticed who you were. Small towns talk.

"I don't know anything," She said with a sigh, "You'll find better luck--" Her voice paused when she saw the look in your eyes. "You ain't here to question me, are you?"

You cleared your throat, "My uh, partner-- teammate, he got shot. I wanted to just get him flowers, I guess. Maybe this is too weird," You'd muttered the last part to yourself, turning around to leave.

"No! No, wait." The woman called as you turned back around. "You like this teammate of yours?"

You nodded, "Yeah."

"You like him more than that?" She raised a brow.

With a hot face, you nodded. "I do."

"I always know. I got just the thing for you, sweetie. Just give me five minutes to prepare it." The woman rushed into the back, and you hesitantly took a seat in a small chair. After those five minutes, she came back out with a gorgeous pink floral arrangement. "Put this together especially for you."

Reaching for your wallet, you mustered the best smile you could. "Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?"

"No charge, sweetie." The woman held her hand up in denial. "You work a hard job. I'm a mother, I know the look of love and heartbreak on a young woman's face. You tell him how you feel, alright? That's the charge."

Your eyes watered as you took the flowers from her. "Thank you, ma'am. You're too kind."

"Says the girl getting the boy she loves flowers after he got hurt." The lady smiled back.

After driving back to the hospital, you hit the fourth floor button and took the grueling trip up. You realized you'd left your phone in the room. Hopefully nothing too important happened.

As you walked up to Spencer's room, you heard his voice, but it was filled with panic. "Garcia, he has a gun!"

Your body moved before your brain as you ran in, grabbing the first person you didn't know. The male nurse, who you assumed was not a nurse, threw you back against the wall as you took note of the gun in the back of his belt. You reached for it, but felt the bottom of it crash into your forehead. He'd gotten it before you had. As you fell to the floor, you heard Penelope shout for help when you saw Spencer's bag, the one that had his gun.

Right as the unsub turned around, you grabbed it and shot him right in the chest. He fell to the floor as you realized you'd been clutching the flowers. Laying down, you let them fall out of your grasp as Derek appeared, grabbing the unsub.

"Oh, my ray of sunshine!" Penelope yelled as she helped you up "You're bleeding! Let's get you a nurse- a real one."

As she pulled you out of the room, you'd just caught a glance at Spencer who was watching you leave with an unreadable expression on his face.

You sucked in a sharp breath of pain as the nurse finished stitching up your forehead. A good sized gash was left from the bottom of the gun, and your shoulder was already developing a bruise on the blade. “Sweets, are you sure you’re okay?” Penelope carefully asked, squeezing your hand as the nurse grabbed the rest of her tools and left you both alone in the small waiting area.

“Yeah, Pen. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Playing with your fingers, you cleared your throat. “How’s Spencer?”

“He’s okay. Up and talking, the Morphine is doing him well. He’s not in too much pain.” Penelope replied, giving your hand another squeeze. “He was thankful it was Morphine.”

With a nod, you continued, “Was Alex with him when he woke up?”

“We both were,” Penelope bit her lip, “but he still asked for you.”

“I just couldn’t be there,” A sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed a hand over your cheek. “It should’ve—”

Penelope raised her eyebrows, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It shouldn’t have been anybody. This is not your fault, I won’t let you believe it.”

A throb emitted from your forehead, “When do we leave? I just want to go home.”

“Spencer’s being airlifted there. We leave right when he does, in about thirty minutes. JJ packed all your things and brought them to the jet for you.” Penelope softly smiled. You made a mental note to thank JJ for doing that for you. “You know you’re going to have to talk to him, right?”

“I don’t want to think about it, Pen.” You shook your head as much as the pain would allow. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Penelope nodded softly, taking your hand and guiding you to the car to go to the jet.

Two days later, and you were still at home in your apartment. Your forehead only got worst with a huge bruise around the stitches. That wasn’t to mention the pain radiating from your left shoulder, either. You felt so bad for not seeing Spencer while he was awake in the hospital, but even now, the thought made you sick to your stomach. Seeing him in pain, in the hospital gown, the beeping of the machines, it was all just too much to bear. It was worse knowing that should’ve been you.

You were sat in your sofa, a half-melted bag of peas on your forehead when you heard the doorbell ring. Slowly, you got up off the couch-- much to your dismay-- and approached the door, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

Spencer standing outside the door, holding a similar flower arrangement to the one you'd gotten him, was not what you expected.

"Reid," You softly said, his last name feeling odd on your tongue. He was never Reid to you. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing. Morgan, uh, told me you got knocked around pretty good." Spencer eyed your forehead, making you feel like a tiny specimen under a microscope. You allowed your hair to fall over it, covering the large, disgusting mark.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "I'm alright." After a moment, you came to your senses, "Uh, come on in. Sorry if it's messy."

"I think I'll live," Spencer chuckled, making your blood run cold at his words. You lead him inside, and even if he'd been in your apartment a numerous amount of times, it felt different now.

Spencer sat on the other end of your sofa. You pressed yourself to the arm, giving plenty of space between the both of you. "Are you in pain?"

"No, not really." Spencer hummed as he pondered your question. "But swallowing sometimes feels different."

"Ah," You casually replied as you went to pick at your nails. You stopped yourself-- don't give Spencer any of your tells. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I wish you would've came to see me sooner." Spencer admitted. "I missed you. I thought you would've been there when I woke up."

Guilt crept into your gut as you replied, "I was out getting you flowers."

"For three hours?"

Spencer's comment clocked you. "Spencer," You rubbed your neck, head slinging down to stare at your lap. "I couldn't be there."

"Why?" Spencer breathlessly asked, his eyes pleading for an answer.

He felt so alone when he opened his eyes and you weren't there. Sure, Alex and Penelope both were, but he was searching for you the whole time. You were his rock, you had been for the last three years. Sure, at first he took a while to warm up to you. Two months, twenty-three days, seventeen hours, and sixteen minutes, to be precise. The moment you both connected, however, it was like you and Spencer were attached at the hip. You had always been there for him. Why weren't you there for him now? It tore down Spencer to know you weren't there, but he was also concerned for your well-being as well.

"That shot was meant for me, Spencer." Your voice was cold as you spoke, a small quiver when you said it was for yourself. "We both know that would've been a headshot."

"You're mad that I saved your life?" Spencer didn't want to become angry, but he did feel frustrated at your lack of understanding.

You huffed, standing up quickly, "I'm mad that you hurt yourself for me, Spencer! You almost died, what would I have done if you died?"

"Says you," Spencer retorted, a small look of bewilderment on his face. "I couldn't live with myself if you died."

The air was thick in the room as you paced while Spencer watched. "Oh, so getting yourself shot was the answer. You scared Alex half to death, and I've never seen Derek cry before this! Don't even mention JJ going dead silent on us."

"Is this about them, or is this about us?" Spencer questioned, crossing his arms.

"This is about-- agh!" As you threw your arms out in distress, pain radiated through your shoulder blade. Your face scrunched in pain as Spencer quickly jolted to your side.

He softly took your arm, "Hey, hey. Let's just sit down, okay? Do you need more ice? Or, a better ice pack?" Spencer helped you sit down, and he grabbed your ankles to pop them up on the small ottoman in front of the couch.

"Better one would be nice," you muttered. "M' still mad at you."

"That's okay," Spencer's voice became more distant as he walked into your kitchen. "I guess I'd be mad, too. If I was in your situation, I mean."

You hummed, "Damn right."

Spencer chuckled as he made his way back into the living room. He gently pushed your hair out of your face, cringing at the huge bruise. You held onto the ice bag as he helped you sit forward. He could see the bruise that made its way up from your shoulder blade. It fell just above the hemline of your shirt, and the mere size made him sigh softly. "He really got you, huh?"

"He was Derek sized," you chuckled bitterly. "Plus, I was trying to save your flowers."

"Well, the vase was broken, but I kept the flowers." Spencer softly laughed beside you.

Your eyes twinkled as you looked to him, "You did?"

"Of course I did," Spencer nodded, "It was the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Wow," Your tone was joking as you continued, "That's a really low bar. Gotta raise it, somehow."

Spencer softly took your hand in his. Every time he touched you, it reminded you of how much he trusted and cared for you; so much so that he allowed physical intimacy with you.

"I couldn't see you like that," You whispered, just loud enough for Spencer to hear. "It hurt me so much, to know I couldn't help you more. I-I couldn't- I-"

Shushes softly spewed from Spencer's mouth. "Hey, it's okay." He soothed, rubbing circles over your knuckles with his thumb. "I'm not mad at you. I was just sad you weren't there, but I understand."

"I can't live without you, Spencer Reid." You admitted, locking eyes with him.

Spencer softly spoke your name, and you noticed how his eyes flicked from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes. "I can't live without you, either." Spencer echoed, another hand softly meeting your cheek. "Please tell me if I'm reading this wrong."

"You're not," you whispered. "promise."

You both sat there for a moment, reeling in each other's presences, your life forces. Finally, the tension got to be too strong. You leaned yourself closer to Spencer, ghosting your lips over his slightly-chapped ones. You gave him a moment to back out, to tell you that you read it wrong--

and he kissed you.

It wasn't a hard, fiery kiss. It was one that was soft, sweet, like a shining body of water, or the sound of laughter. His lips molded into yours like a missing puzzle piece. Spencer's hands moved to hold your face so strongly, yet so gentle like he was afraid to drop one of Rossi's expensive china pieces.

As you pulled back, Spencer's breath softly hit your face, a peppermint smell softly brushing your lips. "Is that why you were so upset?" Spencer breathlessly asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I think so."

"You think?" Spencer half-smiled.

"I think so." You pondered for a moment. "Wanna prove me right?"

Spencer chuckled, pushing his nose to nose your own. "More than anything."

Your lips collided again, but you pulled back with confusion. “How did you know I liked you?”

“Pink flowers,” Spencer scratched the back of his neck, “They’re known for symbolizing crushes, romantic feelings. Your whole arrangement was all pink tulips, roses, carnations.” You eyed Spencer’s for you— it was all pink. “I guess your florist knew better than you did.”

You chuckled, “I guess she did. I like yours, too.” Spencer’s eyes fell to his bouquet and he blushed. “Oh, don’t get shy on me now, kiss me again you sweet genius boy.”

Spencer smiled, happily leaning in for another kiss.

It was then you realized why you were so upset before; you couldn't lose your home.

#doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #bau team #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x y/n

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shdysders · 8 months

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mistake

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which tara makes a mistake she can't undo

word count: 3.4k

warnings: violence, blood, stabbing, blood & death.

author’s note: feel like my writing is deteriorating, so sorry this might not be the greatest.

When you heard that Mindy and Ethan had been separated from the rest of the group, you immediately knew nothing was going to go according to the plan.

Everything had happened so fast. First accusation news about Sam had streamed on television, then Quinn's bloody corpse had fallen on top of you, then Anika wasn't able to make it across the latter, her bloody hands and Ghostface's shaking had made her slip. You had lost two of your friends in less than fifteen minutes.

You hadn't heard of the killings in Woodsboro until you had met Tara the first day of junior year, but she made sure to tell you everything that had happened the closer the two of you got.

Based on everything you had heard, you understood why Sam was so protective over Tara, the Carpenter sisters had been through more than normal people have in a lifetime.

However, even though you were nothing but nice and understanding towards Sam, she didn't seem to like you.

The first time Tara had brought you home to the apartment, Sam had kept a burning gaze on you for the whole time, like she wanted to burn you alive.

You thought that she would warm up and eventually trust you like she seemed to do with Anika, Quinn and Ethan, but she never did.

And it only got worse once Tara had called you her girlfriend in front of her, a huge disagreement broke out, so big that Sam had sent you out of the apartment.

You never got to know what Sam had said after that, but you did know that the glares you got from Sam only worsened and so did the small comments she would make about you when she thought you didn't hear.

Such as now, when Sam and Tara were walking in front of you, the theater being the destination. You had this gut feeling that Sam was currently talking about you. You just knew she was, even tho you couldn't hear her voice nor did you see her head moving like it normally did when she spoke, you knew.

But your mind changed thoughts when she rapidly turned on her heel, stopping when she was in front of Danny who had been walking closely behind you, alongside Kirby.

"Not you." She said, her voice cracking.

"What?" He answered almost immediately, like he had been expecting it.

"Don't trust anyone remember?" Sam replied.

You watched the scene with worried eyes, what Sam said reminded you way too much of something she had told Tara when she thought you weren't near. "We don't know you.. not really."

His face expression looked hurt, almost taken aback when Sam spoke. "You know me."

"You're not Woodsboro." She spoke quickly, rage lacing her voice.

Tara looked down at her shoes after that was said, her lips finding a home between her teeth. You knew she was scared, because you were as well. You had no idea how things were going to go down, you had never experienced something as brutal like this before.

You were seconds away from putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, before she looked up at you with tears pricking her eyes.

"That goes for you too." She swallows thickly, trying her hardest to look into your eyes.

You furrowed your eyebrows, panic rising through you. "W-what?" Your voice came out as a stutter, not believing what she had just made it's way out of her mouth.

Tara just nodded unsurely, her eyes looked sad and were filled with doubt. You couldn't understand why. If she was sad about it, why would she say it?

"Tara I- you can't be serious." You spoke again, voice growing shakier by the minute.

She knew very well how terrified you were about the situation as it was, and yet she still chose to leave you out of the plan alongside Sam's unknown fuck buddy? If it didn't make you shake out of fear you would've been infuriated.

"You're not Woodsboro." She stated, same thing as her sister but in a different tone, she'd tried to sound calm, but her voice was filled with uncertainty, shaky with worry.

You knew she was right. You weren't Woodsboro. You had never been to the place nor did you knew it existed before Tara came along. But the fact that she didn't trust you enough to know for certain that you weren't Ghostface, made you feel the need to fall apart. Did she really think you would kill your friends? Let alone hurt them?

The thought made your eyes sting, and before you had the chance to wipe the tears away, they fell.

"Tara please I promise I-" You felt embarrassed, being so vulnerable over basically nothing.

All eyes were on you as you tried to keep the tears from falling, you felt ridiculous. But you were terrified.

You couldn't stand the thought of being left alone in this situation. Not only because you were scared of being alone, but also because you had to protect Tara.

Although you knew Sam would do a perfectly fine job of keeping her safe, but you wanted to do it, you had to. You wanted to prove to Sam that you loved Tara almost the same amount as she did, you wanted to prove to Tara she could trust you with her life.

You could see that Tara wanted to give in, tell you that you could come along and that she trusted you with her whole being. Her eyes were filled with regret and doubt. But you could tell that she wasn't going to change her mind anytime soon.

She just watched you, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood. Seeing the look on your face just made her want to squeeze you in a hug hard enough to make you faint.

You looked so scared, and the fact that she knew how scared you were about the whole situation, made everything worse. She had noticed the terrified look on your face that hadn't left since the attack at the apartment, your trembling hands and the layer of tears in your eyes that never fell.

Tara actually thought that you looked more scared than both Sam and her combined.

"Y/n please just stay here." She tried to reason, as if she wanted this. But she did want it. She wanted you to be safe.

You wanted to argue, tell her that you would refuse to come along. But you knew that you wouldn't get anywhere with it, Tara was stubborn, she always got what she wanted somehow. And you didn't want Sam to see you argue with Tara, that certainly wouldn't help you get on better terms with her.

So you gave in, even though you knew Tara's life was at stake. Sam will take care of her, you tried to tell yourself.

You quickly wiped the tears on your cheeks with your hand, even though everybody had already seen them.

Tara's eyes never left your figure as she watched your trembling hands. "Fine." You almost spit, voice cracking with worry.

Tara nodded at that, happy to hear you give in. You didn't pay attention to anybody's reaction other than hers, they didn't seem to matter.

She walked closer to you, placing a kiss on your faintly tear stained cheek. "Be safe." She said, as if she wasn't the one that was about to walk into a situation that she would either leave traumatized or not leave at all.

"Be safe." You repeated, before you watched them all walk away towards the building.

Seeing as Sam turned her head to Tara and whispered 'good call', as they walked away.

But when you turned around to try and make a decent conversation with Danny, he was nowhere in sight. Making even more worry creep in your bones.

***

You had been pacing around in the same place and pattern for 20 minutes without any progress, Danny was gone, and your phone was dead.

The streets where dead and empty.

You had half a mind to just run to the theaters and do the exact opposite of what Tara had instructed you to. But you knew well enough that both of the Carpenter sisters would quite literally murder you if you stepped a foot into their plan.

But eventually the worry and stress got to you, like it always did. You didn't care if you were going to get murdered whether if it were by Tara or Ghostface, if it was for protecting Tara, it was a good reason.

However, before you had the chance to change your mind or consider the other options, a glove-covered hand landed on your face, covering your mouth tightly.

The yelp and screams you tried to make was inaudible, nobody could hear them.

You felt a surge of fear and panic, unable to hear your own scream. The street grew eerily silent as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest. Rush of intense vulnerability and confusion, as you desperately searched for a way to escape the grasp of the unknown assailant.

But you knew who it was. It was Ghostface.

You tried to kick them with your legs, but none of them seemed to hit. The person was holding a strong grip on your mouth, and the other arm was firmly placed around your waist. You were unable to move out of any of the grips, the person was too strong. And you weren't.

Your panic was making it harder to breath, and you were beginning to feel as if you were about to faint any second.

You tried your best to remove the grip with your hands, gripping hardly on the muscular arms, trying so hard to get them away from you.

The tightened arms had veins all over them, yet another reminder that it was impossible for you to get away.

It was Danny, you tried to tell yourself over the ringing in your ears. It had to be Danny. He had left the second you were alone with him. It had to be him.

Muffled screams and ringing ears were the only noises you could make out. If the person behind you was speaking in a voice changer to you or not, you had no idea.

The panic you felt was replaced with relief when the thought of using your elbow to hit the individual behind you entered your mind.

But you never got the chance to do that.

Seconds before your elbow was about to meet the Ghostface mask, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen.

All of the movements you were making stopped the second you realized what it was.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Seven times you could feel the sharp piece of metal enter and exit your abdomen. A gasp escaped your mouth after every single one of them.

You tried to scream, but nobody was around. Your wide eyes scanned through the street, yet again seeing that nobody was there. It was all empty.

Normally the streets of New York would be filled with drunk teenagers and late night workers, whether it was night or afternoon.

But when the news about the killers got out, everybody stayed inside. Some people didn't even bother to leave for work, and of course no parties. Even the homeless people seemed to have found another place to stay at.

You didn't realize that numbness was spreading through your legs until the potential male had slowly began to loosen the grip he had on your figure.

Before you had time to think, he had completely let go.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, you couldn't feel your feet, you couldn't feel your legs, you couldn't feel anything.

You could barely feel your legs giving up, nor did you feel your body hitting the ground as you tried to cover up the damage that had been made on your lower stomach.

Regardless the sharp pain in your body that almost made it impossible to breathe and the dizziness that got worse every time you moved, you tried to crawl towards the fence that was just centimeters away.

Your hands bloody from trying to add pressure to your wounds made trails on the asphalt.

You couldn’t tell if you had placed your hands on the right place, considering that the stab wounds were all over the place. And you didn't even dare to look down, because you could guarantee that it wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Your eyes were starting to close by themselves and you were struggling to keep them open.

Everything hurt.

The pressure you were putting on the wounds was now becoming lighter, your hands didn't seem to have any strength left in them.

Tara would be here soon, you thought, desperately.

She would be here soon, everything would be okay; no more Ghostface attacks, no more Sam hating you, and no more unexpected death cases of your friends.

Your mind focused on Tara.

Her brown hair, her beautiful brown eyes, her dimples and her breathtaking smile. Her voice, her touch, and her joyful laugh.

Your eyes closed, and this time you couldn't stop them. The pressure on your wounds was no longer existent. The color in you was gone. You were gone.

Last thought being the girl you wanted to marry.

***

Tara left the building with a lump in her stomach, as big as a bowling ball.

Her body was filled with worry and guilt, but a part of her felt relief. She was relieved that everything was over now. No more Ghostfaces. She was done with them, truly.

Tara couldn't wait to see you. She was going to tell you that the decision she made was right, that she was happy you stayed behind, because you stayed safe.

But when Danny had walked into the theater, tackling all kinds of officer in his way, he was all alone. You weren't there, you didn't come with him.

Danny told them that the two of you had lost sight of each other rather quickly after they'd left, that you probably just needed to be alone and breathe for a moment.

Tara knew that you would be upset with her, for not allowing you to come with them, for not letting you protect her, like you always told her you would, even if it meant dying.

Although she had hoped for you to at least come to see if she made it out alive.

Danny had called the cops and ambulance to arrive at the place as soon as he got the chance. That's why the only thing in Tara's sight was ambulances, police cars and the fire department.

Chad had miraculously made it out alive, same with Mindy and Kirby. And even though that made Tara want to cry out in happy tears, she couldn't let herself feel anything until she had seen you.

Safe and secure. Like you should've been.

Panic began to rise within Tara as minutes passed without any sight of you.

Sam stood beside her, trying to sooth her younger sister with comforting words. But they didn't make anything better for her.

After the whole showdown, the two Carpenter sister's had talked, really talked.

Sam had tried to explain to Tara that she didn't actually hate you, the opposite really. She thought you were lovely and a perfect match for Tara. But she didn't want to take any risks.

She wanted to show you the walls to her trust weren't easy to break. And then she thought that if she acted rude towards you, you would eventually leave; meaning there was no need for Sam to let her guard down and open up to people she didn't know.

But Sam knew how much Tara loved you, she had been listening to her sister's rambling about you everyday.

That's why Sam could feel her heart sinking down her entire being when her eyes met with a stretcher where a body was placed, a morgue sheet on top of it, which was filled with blood.

Sam prayed that it was somebody else. That you had walked somewhere else to breathe just like Danny had assumed.

She felt the need to distract Tara before she had the chance to see it, but it was too late.

She had already seen it.

Tara screamed out your name in a sob, straight away assuming that you were the person underneath the white cover.

The woman who had been pushing the stretcher had stopped, turning around to try and give the man behind her any sort of information about the deceased individual.

Tara's legs moved faster than she could process, Sam following shortly after.

Heart pounding, hands trembling. With a swift of motion, she grabbed the edge of the wrap and pulled it upward, revealing your pale and peaceful face.

The vibrant hues that once painted your face were now gone, leaving behind a pale and ghostly visage. The colors had been drained from you, you no longer looked like yourself.

Tara could feel herself gasp loudly at the sight, turning around with a hand placed on her mouth.

A surge of sickness overwhelmed her. A gut-wrenching sensation, as if her stomach was about to revolt. She felt like she was on the verge of throwing up, basically feeling the acidic liquids rise within her.

It was you. Her girl. Dead. Gone.

Sam had the same reaction to the sight, gasping and putting her hand on her mouth, preventing from letting out any tears or sounds. Chills running down her spine.

Stop it. Pull it together. Tara. Tara needs you. Sam told herself.

Gaze shifting from your body and the bloody sheet upon you to her younger sister, who was sobbing beside her, about to fall down to her knees.

But when Sam put a hand on Tara's shoulder, she stood straighter. "No!" She shot up, voice raspy.

She looked at you again, but this time not caring for the feeling inside of her throat that threatened her. "She's not dead." Tara spoke again, trying to convince herself that you were alive, that she could save you.

"Tara-" Sam tried, but Tara had no interest in listening to her sister.

"Y/n. Baby, look at me." Tara gently brushed her fingertips against your cheeks, but quickly pulled away when she felt the chill that pierced through her body, for they were once a source of warmth and comfort, now distant and cold.

You were always warm.

The tears streamed down Tara's face, leaving even more mascara smudges on her cheeks, falling and leaving marks on her blue shirt. The shirt that you had gotten her.

"Sam, Come on! help me please" She begged for her big sister's help, still hoping that you could be saved.

At that sentence, the woman who had pushed you turned around, she seemed to have heard Tara's pleads and begs, filled with hope, wishing that you were alive. "Oh honey, this girl has been deceased for over an hour...we can't save her."

The woman spoke apologetically and looked at Tara with sorrowed eyes. "I'm so sorry." She ended. Tara was about to scream at the lady, yell at her and tell them to at least try, you weren't gone. There was no way.

But before Tara got the chance to argue, Sam had pulled her into her chest, embracing Tara with a hug. And at that, Tara broke.

The sobs left her mouth faster than she could take them in, she didn't have any space to breathe.

"She's gone." She cried, her tears staining the older woman's shirt. "And I wasn't there to help her." Tara rambled, talking rapidly before the next sob would escape.

Sam didn't know what to say. She just stroke her younger sister's hair, trying to soothe her sobs.

She had never seen Tara this vulnerable and emotionally ruined, not even when she had reunited with Tara at the hospital the previous year.

Tara's body shook violently as each sob left her mouth.

It was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

Tara had been so confident with her decision only minutes before. She thought she had made the right move.

But it turned out to be the biggest mistake of her life.

A mistake she couldn't take back, and had to live with for the rest of her time alive.

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #mabel x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sadie sink x reader

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Note

Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?

god i love him so much

“Your girls here, parker.”

Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do.

He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy.

“Pong, let’s go, parker.”

Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright.

Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong.

Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.

“Do you know where peter is?”

Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?”

“Oh. Um, parker?”

Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone.

You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth.

“Don’t do that.”

Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there.

“I’m sorry!”

His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed.

“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.”

His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.”

Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you.

“Looking good.”

You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?”

“You have my vote.”

Ethan had to bite back another simp comment.

“Can you do me a favor?”

Rushed, “anything.”

Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat.

Peter wants to kill his friend.

“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?”

Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.”

You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.”

“Five minutes and I come looking.”

That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes.

Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.

“You know this is super entertaining, right?”

“Shut up, Ethan.”

“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.”

In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall.

“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?”

“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.”

You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else.

“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.”

Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over.

Ethan is right, you would say yes.

You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway.

“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.”

Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him.

“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?

You frown, “it’s not?”

Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence.

“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.”

Peter’s arm drops, “come here.”

Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward.

“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.”

That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out.

“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?”

You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?”

“It should be a thing.”

You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work.

“Wanna make it a thing?”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter fluff #my writing #frat!peter

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w2sology · 6 months

Note

Hi can u do harry with shy and pregnant reader who ìs like a little sister to rest of the sidemen

nerf or nothing, harry lewis.

summary: the boys come over to spend a bit of time with you and harry, and they come bearing gifts!

warnings: pregancy (idk if that's even a warning?)

notes: as a shy person myself, some of this writing is heavily self inserted 🥲

"what if they don't end up liking football though?"

"then we can try darts. or hey, even rugby."

"harry."

it was past noon and you and harry were discussing things that parents to be often discussed, only harry was focused on the later years of your child's life.

the two of you sat in bed, your back leaning against his chest as you sat in between his legs, loads of catalogues scattered around you both.

"oh, about the pram that you were talking about before," harry mentioned.

"yeah?"

"ethan said faith had loads of websites, she could send them to you if you wanted?"

"oh, god, yes." you sighed contentedly, no longer feeling the stress of having to look for a perfect pram. "or better yet, tell her that she can come over, i haven't seen her or olive in a minute."

harry told you that he'd let ethan know, kissing your forehead before leaving to the kitchen to fix you both a snack.

whilst he was in the middle of pouring you a glass of cranberry juice ─── "it's good for the body harry," you told him, to which he replied with "no, rank is what it is," ─── the doorbell rang.

confused as to who you were both expecting or if it was yet another baby purchase coming in, harry sat the glass on the counter and made his way to the door.

before he could even open it, he knew who it was judging by the loud voices and the bickering of what sounded like jj and simon.

"just ring it once, mate, they can definitely hear." simon groaned, trying to obstruct jj, who clearly didn't listen and kept pressing the doorbell, which earned your attention from upstairs.

harry stood a little away from the door, contemplating what would happen if he just turned around and pretended not to hear the commotion happening outside.

"we can see you, harry," ethan called from through the letterbox. so much for that plan.

harry sighed before opening the door, a smile plastered on his face as his friends all cheered, seeing them bound with gifts and food and other things.

the soft sound of your footsteps made them all turn their head to where you were on the stairs, your baby bump proudly peeking through harry's oversized shirt that you had on.

"oh," you shyly smiled. "hi guys." you didn't think they'd all be here, but there they were.

one by one they came up to you, hugging you and saying their hi's or hello's, asking how you were. and you'd reply with the same, you were doing good, more tired than usual, all that stuff.

whilst harry and simon carried the gifts and food bags to the living room, toby linked your arm with his as he walked you there, making sure you were sat comfortably before harry and simon joined.

harry, being attracted to you like a magnet, squished in next to you, his body on the edge of the sofa as you leant on him.

there was never a moment of silence when the boys came over, and like the listener you were, you loved it.

toby began to explain what each of the gifts were for, considering you didn't know the gender of the baby yet, most of then were just toys. but then again, with them being the slightly immature bunch if men they were, the toys were things like legos and nerf guns or huge dollhouses for toddlers.

"what the hell is a baby going to do with a nerf gun?" harry asked.

"i thought you of all people would like this gift," jj gasped, hand on his chest as he feigned hurt at harry's words.

"no, i'm just saying boys..." and there started the debate over suitable toys for children.

you turned to vik with a look that said 'help me' yet all he did was shrug.

"harry, a couple of months ago you would've been on board with this idea. y/n, what did you do to him?" ethan pointed a finger at you.

"what— me? he's right, a nerf gun's for toddlers, not babies!" you defended yourself.

harry's chest moved up and down as he laughed behind you, even more so at the way you groaned and his your face in your hands.

"i'm not ready for harry's mature era," simon commented.

"mature and harry don't belong in the same sentence," vik added.

"oh my days," harry mumbled as they launched into a new topic, harry's maturity level.

as they all introduced their own point, you just smiled and laughed along as you leant on your boyfriend, feeling even more excited for your baby to be welcomed into the family.

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis x reader #sidemen #wroetoshaw imagine #harry lewis

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aesthetixhoe · 10 months

Text

warnings: cursing, thigh riding, soft!dom! ethan, inexperienced!sub! reader, fem!reader, possessive ethan, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, lots of praise, hints of subspace

CURRENTLY THINKING ABOUT

slightly experienced!ethan with an inexperienced!reader.

You were in his lap, hand tangled in his hair, lips interlocked, his hands on your hips, slowly migrating towards your ass. When they finally land and grips your ass you gasp slightly in his mouth.

His hips buck up, making you whimper.

“Are you ok with this? I really like where this is going but I want to make sure you're ok with it too.” He looks up at you breathless with need in his eyes.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you look into his eyes. You nod softly. “I'm ok... I just...”

“Sweetheart, if you're not alright we don't have to do anything, I promise. I want you to be sure before we do anything.” He grabs your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckle comfortingly.

“I've never done this...” You look down at his hands stroking yours.

“You've never been touched by someone else?” He asks, joining your eyes on both of your guys' hands.

“No, Ethan... I've never done anything. Not even by myself...” You speak even softer than before. He hooks his thumb and finger around your chin, lifting your head up so your eyes meet his.

“Baby, are you saying you've never came before?” His question is less condescending than you expected. Everyone else you've revealed the fact to has lost their minds over it. You nod your head softly. “And you want to?” He asks for reassurance, and you respond again with the same head movement.

His lips go back to yours with a new found fervor. It was like the idea of him being the first person to ever make you cum drove him wild.

“If I do something too far just tell me and I'll stop ok?” You nod again. “I need words sweetheart.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Yes.” You know you're turned on, you've felt it before, especially around Ethan, but you don't know how to act on it. “What do I do?” You question quietly.

“Just relax and do what feels right baby. Here, move your hips a little.” His hands fall and grips the meat of your hips, dragging them up and down his thigh slowly. You sigh and your head moves to lay on his shoulder. The friction of your clothing up against your clit makes your body heat up and your breath gets shallower. “Feel good?” He asks, checking in.

You whine an ‘mhm’ into his ear. With the confirmation he speeds his hands up, making you gasp. “Oh god, E...” You moan, muffling yourself into his neck.

He leans back, stopping the motion of your hips. “Nuh uh beautiful, wanna hear you.”

“‘M sorry, was scared I sounded bad...” You whisper. You've never done this before and the insecurity was coming out.

“Oh no baby, I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make alright?”

“Yes sir.” His hips buck up. Holy shit. While Ethan was more experienced than you, he had still never been called sir. He might explode.

“Fuck baby, like it when you call me that. Can't wait to feel you one day, gonna feel so good wrapped around me.” His grip on you gets tighter and the pace of your hips speed up. You can feel your stomach starting to get tighter and your head falls backwards, exposing your neck to Ethan. He jumps on the opportunity to mark the area. “Gonna mark you up, love. You'll have to show everyone you're mine. Show everyone who makes you feel good. Who is it huh?” He says in between kisses to your neck, and after asking the final question he sucks on the expanse of your neck.

“You!” You moan, “Fuck, you Ethan. You're making me feel good. So good. I- feels weird.” Your hips stutter, unsure of if this is the feeling everyone talks about.

Ethan pulls back, looking into your eyes “No baby, don't stop, it's ok. Keep going, you're gonna cum.” He speeds your hips up again. Your head falls forward onto his chest. There's nothing in your brain, you feel like you can't speak anymore, all you can feel is Ethan and the friction between your legs. It's all too much but not enough.

Your thighs squeeze together unintentionally, but it adds the cherry on top for what you need to cum. Ethan catches on and tenses his thigh muscle. “Gon... Gonna- E- f-fuck-”

“It's ok baby, let go, cum for me.”

#hoe writes #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #x reader smut #x reader #imagine #jack champion x reader #jack champion #jack champion head cannon #hoe thinks

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prxncezz · 3 months

Note

Can I rec something similar as "Good Girl For You," whereas reader is giving ethan a bj while chad tries to talk to ethan through the locked door?

Only if u want ofc, ty

study buddy

Pairing: Sub!Ethan, Dom!Reader

Summary: Y/N gives Ethan his first blowjob, but of course, Chad interrupts.

Contains: smut [mdni], oral [m receiving], no actual p in v, praising, corruption kink if you squint, fem specific terms. Lmk if I missed any!

An: I wasn't sure if you wanted Ethan as the sub or dom in this, but if you wanted Ethan to be a dom, then lmk, and I'll gladly remake it! Also, lmk if you wanna be in the taglist.

Ethan was absolutely obsessed with you.

He had been since the first day you met, and it never crossed his mind that he had a chance with you. He automatically assumed he didn't, considering he was a nerd who kept his nose shoved in books and his homework, but unbeknownst to him, you were actually fond of that very type.

You enjoyed teasing him, giving him signals, and flirting with him without making it too obvious.

It was so fun to toy with him. You couldn't help it. You were addicted to the look on his face when he got all flustered and shy.

But finally, finally, you were in his dorm room to "study."

Little did he know that you weren't planning on studying the entire time. You tried to give him subtle hints like caressing his shoulder or scooting a little closer to him, but he didn't catch onto any of them.

"Ethan," you sighed impatiently, pulling Ethan from the page he was explaining to you.

"Yeah?" His head perked up, his innocent doe eyes looking into yours.

"I was thinking about taking a break. Maybe we could... I don't know... relax?"

"Relax?" He repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. God, he was so oblivious to your hints.

He never picked up on them. Ever. For a moment, you doubted his interest in you, but you skimmed past that possibility quickly since you always had such a great effect on him when you used your charms.

So what could it be? What was holding him back from making a move?

You grew impatient, and you finally realized that you might have to make the first move on your own.

"Yeah, relax." You traced your finger from his collar down to the center of his chest before your eyes flickered to his, his cheeks and nose bright pink.

"And how would we do that?" He adjusted his hips, making you want to grab his face and kiss him right then.

He was so unbelievably cute, it was ridiculous.

"I think I might have an idea," you whispered, flashing him a smirk before shuffling down and kneeling between his legs.

His breath hitched, and his face turned pinker, obviously liking the attention you were giving him.

“Y/N…?” he squeaked, his breath quickening as your hands slowly slid up his thighs.

“Is this okay, Ethan? Do you want me to stop?” You asked softly, your hands stopped about two inches away from his zipper.

"N-No, it’s not that," he said, swallowing thickly. “I just…. i’ve never….” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. He couldn’t even finish the sentence. He was a college student and he still hadn’t had sex yet.

“That’s okay, sweetie, i’ll go easy on you,” You purr, your right hand inching upward before palming his very obvious bulge.

He let out a strangled whimper, his eyes screwing shut at your touch through his jeans.

“Can i take these off, Eth?” You whisper, continuing to palm him through his jeans. He nodded mindlessly. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

You unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles before wrapping your fingers around the band of his boxers. You pulled them down aswell, his pretty cock springing up and leaking an embarrassing amount of precum.

“Is it okay if i touch you?” You ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes. The last thing you wanted to do was make an innocent boy uncomfortable.

He nodded, giving you a small ‘uhuh’ as he looked down at you. His cock twitched. He had the biggest crush on you for the longest time, he was surprised you hadn’t confronted him about it before.

You wrapped a hand around his base, kissing his pink, leaking tip. He whimpered, his cock giving a small, cute twitch.

Your tongue flattened on the underside of his tip, the most sensitive part of his cock. He let out a small, strangled moan. He pressed his lips together, embarrassed by the sounds leaving him.

You swirled your tongue around his tip before taking his cock in your throat.

"F-fuck, Y/N, p-please.." He gasped. "S-slow down.."

*You did, bringing your lips up a little to about two-thirds down his cock. He breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. He gave you a small nod and you inch ethan down your throat a little slower than before.

He lets out muffled moans as your hands rest on his thighs, your manicured nails soothingly trialing up and down his skin.

You bob your head up and down a little faster, watching his face contort in pleasure. His hips involuntarily rutted into your throat. You hummed around his cock, causing him to shiver and moan.

“H-holy shit, i’m s-sorry, couldn’t help it,” He babbles. He’s cut off by a moan as you take him a little faster. His doe eyes roll to the back of his head, his mouth falling open with pleasure.

Your tongue swirled around his tip which made him whimper loudly.

His mouth hung open as broken moans escaped his lips, followed with fuck fuck fuck fuck's and oh shit, pleass!

"Y/N... fuck!" He whimpered and whined as his breaths became shallow. It had only been a couple of minutes and you child tell He was close.

“Are you close, baby?" You smirk and swirl your tongue around his reddened tip. All he could do was moan and nod, his hips bucking off the mattress, desperately searching for relief.

You came to a halt, removing your mouth from his cock as Chad called Ethan’s name, the sound of keys being tossed on the counter following soon after.

“Ethan?” Chad called again, footsteps approaching Ethan’s room. He knocked on the door and ethan’s head fell toward, a frustrated groan leaving his lips.

“Yeah?” He called back, trying to remember if one of you locked the door beforehand.

“I asked if you wanted some pizza, i was planning on ordering some,” He calls from outside the door.

You had a small idea, leaning forward and licking ethan’s tip.

“Uh y- oh fuck…” Ethan moaned. “Yeah that’s f-fine,” Chad paused for a moment, probably hearing ethan’s noises.

“What’s going on in there, dude…?” He asked, obviously a little suspicious. Your hand stroked Ethan’s cock quickly, mouth on his tip and your free hand on his thigh. You swirled your tongue around his tip, his moans growing breathier and higher pitched as he gets closer to his orgasm.

Ethan whimpered, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. “Y-yea everything’s fine,” Ethan breathed out, his head falling back.

You took him all the way down your throat and that’s all it took, Ethan moaning your name as he cums violently down your throat, whining softly.

“Umm… okay…?” He says, walking away. You smirk up at Ethan, who bites his lip.

“We almost got caught,” He whispers.

“So?” You chuckled, furrowing your brows. “I don’t think chad will get mad, he has girls over all the time.”

“No, i know, but… i didn’t think you’d want anybody to know that…” He trails off. you smile softly.

“You’re too cute. You don’t think i want people to know about whatever this turns into?” You tilted your head. He shrugged shyly. He was suddenly very aware that he had his cock out and blood rushed to his cheeks. “You’re smart, Ethan, but sometimes you can be a little stupid.”

should i make a part 2???

Taglist:

@l0s3r-natilye @nowitsmissing

#smut #fanfic #requests #subby boys #male sub #ethan landry scream #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream smut #scream #scream vi

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satuguro · 1 year

Text

⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ 20/20 VISION

lalala! ethan landry x okokok! reader

#SYNOPSIS— based off of see you again by tyler the creater & kali uchis; you have no gag reflex, ethan tells a sex joke, and ethan takes a leap of faith.

#CONTAINS— best friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, emetophobia, fluff

#AUTHORSNOTE— i've been wanting to write fluff lately so.. here you go xx

your unofficial designated spot in the carpenter sisters' apartment was their armchair in their living room.

you had a list of reasons why; one, it meant more space. you could stretch your legs, not worry about feeling someone's feet near your legs, and you could have your own blanket. all somewhat selfish reasons, but you loved your space. two, it had the perfect angle towards the t.v. that gave you the best spot in the living room to watch it without worrying about discomfort.

which was why you would've been mildly perturbed that someone was standing between you and the t.v. the only difference was that it wasn't just someone; it was someone who rambled too often, who had no sense of personal space while also being hyper aware of it, and who was a flurry of random facts (which wouldn't help him at all, unless someone held a gun to his head and told him to name and point at every country’s capital in the world).

"i've done it," ethan announced to you, his signature toothy smile seemingly more victorious as he looked down at where you were snuggled up on the couch. his well manicured nails (he asked you to do them once, and who were you to deny your best friend?) held his laptop, the screen facing his chest.

"aren't you supposed to be studying?" you asked him with a small tilt of your head, glancing at where the rest of the group was. finals week was beating everyone up, and you could briefly see mindy and chad chugging a redbull at the same time while tara timed them, before you turned back to your best friend.

"i gave up."

"you need to study."

"you gave up, too!" ethan looked down at the huge blanket that you hogged for yourself, not even thinking twice before he was climbing in next to you.

"ow— ethan!" you groaned, feeling him step on your leg.

"'scuse me!" ethan forced himself under the blanket you were snuggled under, making you share your beloved armchair with him before he sighed contentedly. "this is comfortable! maybe i should share this seat with you more often!" he said with a bright grin, making you sigh reluctantly. "i mean if you don't want to then it's fine too!" ethan added hurriedly with wide eyes.

"i was just saying that i wouldn't mind sharing with you because usually you sit alone— which i know you prefer, you've told me so many times and i get it! i really do! but i wouldn't mind sitting with you to keep you company because i really like being with you— around you. your presence. yeah, that." ethan rambled, finishing his string of words with a sheepish smile, cheeks flaring a bit red. "i'm sorry for rambling." he added quietly.

your usually tired eyes softened at that. he had always been insecure of how much he talked, you knew that better than anyone. "i've told you before, e, i don't mind. i like listening to you," you hummed, a downturned smile on your lips. "i like your presence too. and i guess i don't mind sharing my seat with you."

ethan's cheeks flared red at your casual words. you had a way of speaking so calmly, as though all your words were chosen well. in a way, he was a bit jealous.

"you had something to tell me, yeah?" you asked him softly, bringing him back on track.

"oh, right!" ethan showed you his laptop, setting it up on your legs. it was a notion list, color coordinated and everything, with an entire list of shows and movies you remember only briefly mentioning to him. "i made this list—"

"just now? instead of studying?"

"yes! so basically, it has a section where we can rate it after we watch it, and it's all organized by what we want to watch the most and what we need to finish!" ethan scrolled down the list, practically buzzing with excitement (and the cold brew he drank earlier).

"see? i know that i have a whole essay to do but i can do it later—" ethan said, waving it off with his hand. "because i know you said you would do it but i got impatient and did it instead! and look—" he showed you the wide variety of colors for every row. "they're color coordinated! and here's how i think the rating system should go—"

you had watched ethan talk the entire time he rambled, your usually tired and indifferent eyes softening when you listened to him speak. he talked fast— too fast for some people, but you liked that about him—but the way he rambled showed how passionate he was about different topics, because ethan only rambled when he cared.

it showed how much he appreciated what he was talking about. and ever time his cadence picked up and his words became jumbled and he began interrupting himself, you could see how ethan's brown eyes would shine with excitement. you could see how he began incorporating his hands to his words, how his lips tilted up when he talked.

you were so engrossed in ethan's explanation of the movie and t.v. show list that you failed to notice your friends staring at you from the dining table.

"they are disgustingly cute," tara said with a sigh.

"and disgustingly oblivious," mindy grumbled, clicking her pen over and over. "with how smart the both of them are, i'm surprised they haven't picked up on the clues." she turned to chad, who was sulking after losing the redbull chugging competition against her. "have you asked ethan about it yet? you're our in on this, chad!"

chad groaned as mindy nudged him with her shoulder. "i did. he didn't even respond. it's crazy how he can avoid conversations, you know."

you didn't like parties. not as much as your friends did— you were usually the designated driver or the friend that was always sober enough to take care of their friends, which you didn't mind. it was the socializing part that you minded.

you socialized okay, but you often just ended up listening to other people rather than talking. listening was more your style, but you were only a little awkward when it came to talking to complete (and possibly intoxicated) strangers at parties. you stuck with your group of friends and very rarely strayed away.

but ethan was the designated sober friend this time around, so maybe that would change.

three loud knocks to your dorm room made you go and open it, coming eye to eye with ethan. "you're walking me there?" you asked with a knowing smile, making the boy nod eagerly.

"yup! chad's walking with tara and mindy's going with anika, so that leaves you and me." ethan grinned at you teasingly. "why, you're getting tired of me already?"

"no," you hummed, closing your dorm room behind you as the both of you began to walk down the hall. "you're really not drinking tonight, huh?"

"nope!" ethan replied, popping the 'p'. "after i threw up all over sam that one time we drank at the apartment, and then i threw up on you right after, i told myself that i'd hold back on it."

you wrinkled your nose at the memory. "how responsible of you."

"i know, right?" ethan said with a proud smile. "but because i threw up on you that time, i give you full permission to throw up on me this time."

"i'm not gonna be that drunk."

that was a lie.

to say that your friends were shocked to see you become a more extraverted person after drinking would be an understatement. they were used to you observing the group and contributing to conversations with sarcastic comments, dry humor, and dark jokes that are often made much too soon. so to see you take a shot with tara and squeal happily with her (true friend solidarity; she was as drunk as you were) was completely out of the ordinary.

"i'm gonna go find chad!" tara yelled over the music, making you nod happily and watch her leave. adrenaline and excitement began to thrum through your body stronger, and your first thought was to share it with your favorite person. you began to walk around, searching for ethan, before you bumped into a chest.

"oh, shit! i'm so sorry," the guy laughed, making you send him an apologetic smile.

"it's okay!" you said, taking in his black hair and his brown eyes (that only reminded you of ethan). "i'm y/n!"

the guy smiled at you, offering his hand out. "jaden!" he seemed to be as intoxicated as you were, his steps wobbling slightly as you shook his hand. "do you, uh, wanna dance?"

"hey, where's y/n?" ethan asked tara as she passed him, making her look back towards the drinks table.

"she should just be around where the drinks are.." tara's voice trailed off when her eyes landed on you not too far away. your arms were around a guy's neck— was that jaden from her philosophy lecture? —as you swayed with him to the music. you seemed to be having a good time, the alcohol making you lighthearted as you sang with whatever song was playing through the speakers. "there she is!"

when ethan saw you, his heart fell. you looked so beautiful under the multicolored lights, your hair perfectly styled and your clothes fitting you perfectly as you danced with someone who wasn't him. your smile— your genuine one, ethan noted with his chest aching, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your smile lopsided —was pointed towards someone who wasn't him.

jealousy brewed in his chest along with the heartache, ethan's jaw clenching as he stared at you and the random guy. but he didn't step in. he didn't pull you away and declare his feelings for you, because at the end of the night, you were happy. content as you danced with someone who wasn't ethan at all.

chad came up next to tara, his arm over her shoulders as he steadied her. "hey man, where's y/n?" he asked, still fairly sober than everyone as he had only taken one shot.

"she's doing fine," ethan said, his voice monotone as he continued staring at you. it was unfair how beautiful you looked while you unknowingly broke his heart with every laugh and every flirtatious smile you sent towards your dance partner.

"what?" chad looked in the direction ethan was staring, his face falling when he saw you and jaden. easily connecting the dots, he looked at ethan empathetically. "fuck. dude, i'm sorry."

"it's okay, really," ethan said with a tight lipped smile. but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and him, the fact that you looked so happy pulling at his chest because he wanted you to be happy with him. he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at that random stranger.

and finally, as you did a twirl into jaden’s arms, you made eye contact with ethan. oblivious to the way his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the spark they usually had, you gently pulled yourself out of jaden's arms. your steps were wobbly, and you nearly crashed into ethan's chest when you finally walked up to him. ethan's arms went to steady you easily.

"ethan, i feel like throwing up," you murmured, and ethan nodded in understanding, worry taking over his jealousy.

"okay, let's get you to the bathroom, okay?" ethan said softly, pulling you close to him as he guided you to the bathroom. he knocked on the door, thankful no one responded, before he opened it for you. he locked the door behind the both of you as you made a beeline for the toilet, grabbing the side of it as you readied yourself to throw up.

but nothing came out.

“go on!” ethan encouraged you, motioning to the toilet. but instead, you looked up at him warily.

“do i have to?”

“yes?” ethan gaped at you, motioning to the toilet again. “just go ahead! nothing to fear!”

“i don’t want to.”

“c’mon, y/n, why not?” ethan whined, making you groan as you stopped yourself from throwing up yet again.

“i have emetophobia, asshole,” you muttered, gently pushing his arm. “fear of throwing up? and,” you messily pushed some of your hair away from your face. “i have no gag reflex.”

“what the hell?” ethan crinkled his nose, blushing furiously as he looked at you in shock. you were honest, sure but never this honest. “i could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“are you sure?”

“what?” ethan said quickly, eyes wider than ever as he stared at you as you snorted in amusement. “you’re kidding.”

“maybe.”

“maybe?” he swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. “oh god, you definitely have to throw up now.”

“watch this.” you took two of your fingers and stuffed them all the way to the back of your throat, smiling triumphantly as you showed ethan your lack of a gag reflex.

ethan could only watch in horror and exasperation. “y/n, i didn’t need proof. i already believed you.” he took some squares of toilet paper before offering it to you.

“i told you so,” you hummed, pulling your saliva covered finger out of your mouth and wiping them on the toilet paper. there was a beat of silence before ethan coughed, his cheeks and ears still burning red.

“can i make a joke?”

“of course you can.”

“it’s a, uh,” ethan cleared his throat, avoiding your intent gaze, “sex joke.”

“even better.” you situated yourself next to the toilet, still very much feeling like you were gonna hurl at any given moment.

ethan sat next to you, clearing his throat again. “i know one way we can test your gag reflex,” he stated, almost ashamed at his own joke.

you chuckled at that, the horrible joke making a you sway a bit with laughter before the sudden motion sickness got to you. without another word, you threw up into the toilet. all thanks to ethan’s horrible sex joke.

he immediately reached over to move some of your hair. you continued retching into the toilet, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "i hate drinking," you grumbled as you laid your forehead on your arm, eyes watery from throwing up. immediately as you got the words out, you threw up again.

"i know, i know.. but i know you're gonna end up drinking again," ethan teased softly, making your back heave as you managed a laugh, only for it to be interrupted by you throwing up again. "it's okay, let it all out." he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “i can’t believe a sex joke made you throw up.”

and you almost laughed again if you didn’t throw up even more.

the sound of the party died into the background as ethan sat next to you on the ground. your head was laying on your arm, which was on the toilet seat. you were still intoxicated, and the world was still spinning, but you could see the obvious turmoil on ethan's face. you poked his arm. "what's wrong?"

"what?" ethan said, snapping out of his daze to send you a tight lipped smile. "nothing's wrong."

"liar."

"i'm not!"

"i know you better than that, e," you murmured, half lidded eyes staring at him. you had thrown up most of your alcohol, and while you were still inebriated, you felt a lot more clear headed than earlier. “what's wrong?"

ethan looked at you, eyes flashing with hurt as he pictured you again dancing with someone else. "do you really want to know?" he asked you, and you nodded. even while drunk, you opted to listen.

"you looked beautiful when you were dancing," ethan began, managing a soft smile, "i don't think i've ever seen you like that. it's not a bad thing or a good thing, but it's a new thing, y'know?" he sighed. "you dance really well, i'm surprised you haven't told me," a genuine smile appeared on his face when he heard you laugh quietly. "and your laugh.. i swear i would listen to it over whatever horrible music is playing right now."

ethan looked at you, taking in your obviously roughed up and intoxicated form. but somehow, even with slightly messy hair and most of your make-up rubbed off and with your breath smelling only a little bit like puke, you still looked beautiful. it was enough to make someone who talked as much as him to go quiet in awe.

"but when you laughed, and when you smiled,” ethan said slowly, taking in heavy breaths with every word. fear thrummed through his body, mingling with the nervousness as he twiddled with his fingers anxiously. to continue on would be to admit everything. to admit how he felt, the thoughts he had been having about you, everything. and to admit it to you would be to risk losing a friendship and one of the most important people in his life.

“.. you weren’t smiling or laughing at me. and i hated that.”

confusion spread over your face before realization hit your eyes. “oh.” and oh, it suddenly all made sense. why ethan was so bothered, why you were so willing to listen to one person speak for forever as long as it was them, why even as you danced with another, something was off because he wasn’t ethan. he wasn’t your best friend.

“you don’t have to say anything,” ethan mumbled, completely misinterpreting your realization for rejection. his eyes watered slightly as he avoided your gaze. “it’s been going on for a while now, and i get it if you don’t feel the same! i really do, it’s just,” he sighed shakily, “i don’t want to lose you—”

“ethan—”

“i was completely willing to just shut up about how i felt as long as that meant i could still have you in my life, y/n,” ethan said, looking into your eyes earnestly. “and i thought i could keep it under wraps but i have to tell you at least once because—”

“i love you.”

“what?” ethan blinked, making you smile, your head still resting on your arm.

“i love you, ethan.”

a toothy smile spread over his face at that, his shoulders relaxing as he searched your face for any doubt. “are you— are you sure?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i wasn’t,” you murmured softly as you raised your head, making ethan laugh in relief.

“holy shit— i love you too.” ethan said, leaning forward, only for you to stop him.

“e, i might throw up on you if you kiss me.”

“do you think i care?”

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marvelfilth · 4 months

Text

Off the deep end 5 (18+)

Pairing: Ghostface!Sam Carpenter x f!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, Sam going a little mad

Summary: Ethan is your close friend, and he might be the only one who still trusts you. You know it makes you even more suspicious in Sam's eyes, you know Mindy will take it as confirmation, but you simply don't care. You just want this to be over.

Masterlist

You sit in the trunk of Sam's car, furiously rubbing blood from your hands. Mindy cries in Chad's arms, Tara hovering over them both. Sam's beside you, a cigarette clutched between her fingertips. She hasn't said anything since she dragged you out, carefully sitting you down and wiping your face clean before you scooted away from her, accepting some wet wipes and dissociating at the sight of your blood stained hands.

Your head is a little clearer now and you don't flinch when she starts cleaning the wound on your shoulder, blowing gently when you wince from stinging pain.

Body bags are rolled on stretches one by one. You look down when you see detective Bailey break down in the middle of the street.

But you can't look away from Mindy stomping your way after she's been patched up by the medics, murder in her eyes. She halts to a stop before you, hand poised for a slap. Sam pushes her away before she can land it. "What the fuck, Mindy?"

"Yeah, what the fuck? You're defending her?!" She shouts, furiously wiping away her tears. "It's her, don't you see?"

Her raised voice attracts unwanted attention, people start looking at you with furrowed brows and you see a blonde woman take a few notes in her notepad.

"She made her go, Sam! If it wasn't for her Anika would be here," she breaks down in a sob, falling to her knees. Chad follows her, hugging her close to his chest, his eyes on you. You shudder at the rage shimmering in the dark pools.

"Mindy, she did her best," Tara whispers, clutching Sam's hand.

Your vision blurs with unshed tears, your fingers itching with need to do something, maybe go back to the elevator and keep trying to bring Anika back. Maybe you need to chase him and take his life.

You look away. "She's right, it's my fault."

"No, it's not." Sam reaches out to you, reassurances on her tongue, but Mindy pushes her back before she can voice them.

"She hid the knives," Mindy hisses with a cold look in her eyes.

"What?" Tara mumbles.

Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck as you try to understand what she is talking about. What knives?

"What a caring fucking girlfriend you are, huh? Let me get you a glass of water, Sam," she mocks. "You hid the knives right before we got attacked. And you got the call. You were at the fucking bodega. Did you kill that man in the alley too? Fuck, maybe you let that fucker in yourself, maybe you planned all of this. Maybe- Maybe you killed Anika in that elevator. You did, didn't you?!"

Her hands are on your shoulders, pushing hard enough to leave bruises. Your mouth falls open, but not a single word leaves your lips. You tremble violently, shaking your head, and see Tara takes a few careful steps back, her eyes glossed over. Mindy shakes you, screaming right in your face, and all you can do is crumble to the ground, choking on a sob.

Sam catches you before your knees hit the ground, pulling you into her chest and squeezing you tight.

"It's, okay," she whispers, "it's not your fault."

Sam's hands feel scalding hot on your body, but her words fall on deaf ears when the only thing your brain can register is Mindy's anguished cries.

It's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fau-

Loud shouts ring from the entrance, another stretcher rolled out. Mindy gasps, and in a flash she's gone, running after the group.

Anika.

You shoot up, ready to run after Mindy, but Chad stops you with a firm grip and a shake of his head, before turning around and following his sister.

You sag back into the truck, closing your eyes. When you open them, Tara is nowhere in sight, only Sam left standing by your side.

"Do you trust me?" You ask.

She freezes, her eyes widening a slightest bit at the abrupt question. "I do."

"Would you trust me with Tara?"

You can tell your question takes her by surprise. She's silent, tension taking root in her shoulders before it spreads over her whole body. She gulps, her eyes flickering around the street.

You nod, resigned. "I understand."

She turns to face you, her brows pulled tight, and takes her hand. "I trust you, I do. But Tara- Sometimes I don't even trust myself to protect her."

A dark chuckle escapes your lips. "That's not what I'm asking, Sam, and you know it. It's not about protection. Do you trust me not to hurt her? Not to kill her?"

She looks down, letting go of your hand, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. She takes a drag, blowing smoke away from you, her hands tremble.

This is it, you think. No matter what she said about Anika, no matter what she said about trusting you, you know she doesn't. Not completely.

"I don't know."

You look away in an attempt to hide your tears and nod, drawing a sharp breath. "It's okay. I'll just- I'll go, wait it out. And if you still want me when it's all over, I'll be there."

Sam straightens like a rod, her hand around your waist in an instant. "No. I'm not letting you out of sight." She clings to you, cigarette thrown to the ground. You let yourself enjoy the warmth of her embrace for a few fleeting moments before you start pulling away, but she doesn't let you, forcing your head up to meet her pleading eyes. "Please, don't go. I can't let you go."

You swallow dryly, and wipe away another set of tears. "You'll have to. N-none of you trust me," you choke on a sob, pushing against your girlfriend when she only hugs you tighter, pressing fleeting kisses into your hair. "You- you'll keep looking behind your back to make sure I haven't fucking stabbed anyone. I'd rather wait it out than go through that."

Sam shakes her head, "I need you close, so I can protect you."

You scoff, and forcefully push her away. "I don't need your protection. You should go to them," your head jerks in the twins direction, "make sure they're safe."

"Stop it," she hisses, following you as you try to walk away, "what the fuck do you think will happen once you're alone?"

"Nothing."

You need to get away. You need to go back home, curl on your bed and cry until you physically can't anymore. You still see Anika's empty eyes staring back at you, still feel the stillness of her chest under your palms. Everything around you is blurry as you stumble through the mass of people - paramedics, police officers, reporters and…

"Ethan?" You blurt as he steadies you.

He pants loudly, his eyes wide and questioning. "What- what happened?" He asks, pointedly looking at the blood all over your front.

He's thrown against a nearby car before you can answer, Sam's fist raised for a punch. "Where were you?" She growls, her hand closing around his throat. He's almost crying, his eyes glistening with tears.

You can see yourself in his place. You fight the urge to throw up.

"Sam," you speak up, but she doesn't hear you, pushing him hard enough to leave a dent.

"I- Econ," he wheezes, "I had econ."

"Sam, stop."

She listens this time, her eyes not straying from the gasping boy as she takes a few steps back.

You shudder as her hand returns to yours. "I'll take him with me."

She stills and doesn't utter a single word for a long moment. Ethan watches you, confused, but hesitant to voice his concern, as you both wait for Sam to speak.

"What?" She asks, her voice gravely quiet. "What did you just say?"

You swallow. "He'll stay with me, that way I won't be alone. He's a big guy, he's more than capable of protecting me."

She tilts her head to the side, her eyes growing a shade darker. "You're not going anywhere, especially with him."

“Wha- what is that supposed to mean?” he splutters, visibly offended.

You shush him with a look, shaking your head.

It's not ideal, you know, but it'll have to do. Ethan is your close friend, and he might be the only one who still trusts you. You know it makes you even more suspicious in Sam's eyes, you know Mindy will take it as confirmation, but you simply don't care. You want to barricade yourself in your room, open a bottle of tequila and fall asleep in your warm bed. You just want this to be over.

Sam shakes you out of your thoughts, a question in her eyes.

“What?” You ask, suddenly too tired to look her in the eye. You focus on the spot over her shoulder, still feeling the burning intensity of her eyes.

“I don't trust him.”

“You don't trust me either.”

"I can't afford to, but I can't- I can't afford to lose you either," she confesses, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

You close your eyes, feeling her arms envelope you, the smell of her cologne tickling your nose.

“Sam?” Tara calls.

Sam doesn't allow you to leave the sanctuary of her warmth, pulling you closer when you try to step away. “No,” she whispers, her grip so tight you struggle to breathe, “you're staying with me.”

“Sam, Gale found something.” There's an edge to Tara's tone, and when you open your eyes to look at her she doesn't meet your gaze, pointedly looking away.

Sam nods, tugging you along to follow Tara.

“Actually,” the blonde you saw earlier steps closer, her hand hovering over her gun on her thigh, “I don't think she should go with us.” She pointedly looks at you, her brows furrowed.

“What?” Sam hisses, shooting daggers at the shorter woman, but she appears unfazed.

“From what I've gathered, she seems to be our prime suspect. It wouldn't be wise to take her with us.”

“We should hurry,” Tara says, pleading Sam with her eyes.

“No,” Sam growls.

“Sam,” you plead, tugging your hand out of her grasp. “Just let me go, please.”

You're so tired.

“Sam,” Tara pleads. “We can't take her with us.”

“Then we don't go.” Sam's words are final.

Tara’s eyes narrow, you close your eyes, anticipating the verbal fight.

“What?”

“You heard me. For all we know Kirby is the killer.”

The blonde woman, Kirby, snorts, shaking her head. “This isn't your first rodeo, Sam. Love interests are always top suspects, and, with all of the evidence Mindy presented me with, you should be grateful I'm not putting your girlfriend in a cell.”

Tara looks at you, really looks at you for the first time since Mindy's outburst, her eyes swimming with questions. You look away, unable to hold her gaze any longer without crumbling apart.

“Sam, I'm going.” Tara says quietly. “She'll be-” she stutters, glancing at Ethan, “she can take care of herself.”

You nod, peeling yourself from Sam. She holds your hand tight, staring at Tara. “You're making me choose?” She asks, trembling.

Tara gulps, her eyes wide as she looks at your joined hands. “Whatever Gale found, we need to check it out,” she says, trying to convince herself as much as Sam, “I- I'm going, Sam,” she stutters, arms tight around her stomach.

All you can see is a girl forced to go through another massacre, a girl who still hasn't moved on from her best friend's betrayal. You understand.

Still, it hurts like hell.

“Go,” you whisper, managing a tired smile, “I'll be okay.”

With the last push, you leave Sam staring at her sister, and follow Ethan in the direction of his car.

×××

A movie theater.

That's what Gale found.

Sam walks in, Tara in her wake, timid and hesitant. She can't even look at her little sister right now, instead she focuses on what's right in front of her - her fathers hooded robe.

“You think she's still alive?”

She clenches her teeth tight and glances behind her shoulder. Another hallucination, just what she needs.

“Fucked up, isn't it?” Her father taunts, walking around her in circles.

She closes her eyes, clenching her fists tight. “Get lost.”

His mocking laugh grates at her ears. “I think one of them is already dead.”

She grinds her jaw, closing her eyes. “I said get lost.”

She turns on her heel, leaving the open space. She walks aimlessly, disappearing behind one of the many doors and sliding to the floor with her back against the wall. “Fuck,” she whispers, blinking back tears, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The door creaks open.

“Sam?”

It's Kirby.

Sam's fists clench.

“What?” She hisses.

The blonde looks at her for a moment, her eyes holding an understanding that hits Sam like a hammer. “We have some good news.”

Sam nods, not really caring.

“The next time that asshole calls we'll know where he is.”

Sam nods again.

“Sam.”

She looks down, playing with a loose thread in her shirt. “Good.”

“You made the right decision.”

Sam scoffs, standing up in one swift motion, now looming over the shorter blonde. “The right decision? She's alone. With that fucking-”

“He's alone with her.”

“Kirby,” Sam growls, a clear warning in her tone.

“I know. I went through this too, remember?” The shorter woman holds her ground, not budging an inch. “You know we can't trust her. You know it was the right thing to do.”

Sam swallows down the urge to scream. Instead she leaves, her steps echoing around the empty room, contemplating just going back and making you stay by her side, even if she has to force you.

×××

Ethan has to pack a bag. That's what he tells you anyway.

You sit in the passenger seat of his car - you didn't even know he had one - and wait for him to come out of his dormitory. You don't even jump every time a random car driving by honks. You tense, looking around, but you don't jump. You count that as a win.

You miss the feeling of safety Sam always brings.

“All good,” Ethan smiles, getting back behind the wheel. You startle, looking to your left.

“You sure?” You mumble, eyeing the small duffle bag he throws on the back seat.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I don't need much anyway. I know Sam's gonna get that fucker soon.”

You smile, relaxing for the first time since you left your girlfriend's side. “She will.”

His driving is a little messy - he hits at least three potholes on the way to your apartment and texts someone twice - but you don't complain, you're a far worse driver.

“That's me,” you sigh, welcoming him inside your apartment.

He looks around, his eyes widening as he takes in the mess that is your living room. You didn't really have enough time to clean up after Sam's visit.

“Sorry about that.” You blush, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

×××

“Sam,” Tara pleads, tugging at her sister's arm.

“Not now,” Sam hisses, looking around the park.

Kirby's plan to simply sit and wait for a call didn't sit right with Sam, so now they're here, in the middle of a park, with Kirby and Bailey as back up, baiting one of those fuckers in broad daylight.

She prays it works.

“Sam, you know-”

“Not now,” she hisses. Tara jumps away. Her sister never used that tone with her.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, blinking back tears. “Maybe we shouldn't have left her. Not like that.”

Sam's eyes narrow as she turns on her heel. “You say that now?”

Tara squares her shoulders, wiping her cheeks. “I thought-”

“It doesn't matter what you thought. You made me choose. I would've never done that to you.”

Her sister folds in on herself, hugging her stomach. Sam sighs, looking around. She knows she's being too hard on her sister, but she can't bring herself to care right now. Not when you're in danger.

Sam starts, “Look, I know you're scared-”

“Yes, for you!” Tara interrupts, shaking. “You remember Richie? Remember his plans for you? And this- Kirby was right about love interests. We both know it.” Sam opens her mouth to protest, but Tara doesn't let her speak. “Don't try to deny it! I care about you, Sam, and if it means I have to be the bad guy to keep you safe, I'll do it.”

Sam's mouth snaps shut. Tara's eyes glint with determination now, her face set. She nods, feeling some of her anger seep away. “Okay,” she sighs. “I'm sorry for snapping.”

“I'm sorry for making you leave her.”

The sisters share a look and, after Sam nods, Tara throws her hands around her older sisters shoulders.

And then her phone rings.

“You're gonna die, you know?” She answers, looking around.

“No, you're gonna die, Sam, but not before watching your little sister bleed out.”

Sam swallows. Tara squeezes her hand, grounding her sister.

“But don't worry,” the voice starts, taunting, “it’s not her time. Yet.”

Sam stares ahead, unseeing, as the phone clicks.

“Kirby, did you get it?” Tara says into her ear peace. “What?” she pales, looking at Sam with wide eyes. “Yes, I know the address…” she trails off, trembling “...it's Y/n’s”

"What?" Sam breathes out and freezes.

Tara, not wasting any time, grabs her sister and runs to Bailey's car, pushing her in before taking a seat behind the wheel. The sirens blare, gnawing on Sam's mind.

Ethan, she thinks, that motherfucker. She's going to kill him. She'll make sure he suffers.

"Sam." Tara glances at her sister, expertly waving through the traffic. "I know you care about her, but..."

"What?"

Sam nods, her palms bleeding from how hard she's dug her nails into them.

"It might be... not what we expect. At Y/n's place, I mean." Tara mutters, glancing at her sister warily. Sam closes her eyes, taking deep, even breaths as her sister speaks. "Be ready for anything, okay?"

She is more than ready to gut the boy.

“Faster,” her father hisses from the backseat and she doesn't spare the hallucination a glance. “Or you'll lose your precious girlfriend.”

She grits her teeth, nails digging into her palms, and focuses on the road ahead, willing him to go away. She can't afford a distraction, not now, not when you are in danger. Tara glances at her warily, before hesitantly placing her palm on her shoulder, squeezing.

The breaks screech and she's out before the car comes to a full stop. She forgoes the elevators, running up the stairs to your apartment and bursting through the unlocked door.

The first thing she sees is blood.

The first thing she hears is Ethan's sobs.

"S-sam," he whimpers, clutching his stabbed stomach. "Please…"

Tara bumps into her back, panting and coughing. Sam's hand shoots out, stopping her sister from getting closer to the boy.

"Where is she?" Sam asks, her voice gravely quiet. She scans the apartment with her eyes, seeing no signs of struggle.

Her father appears by her side, nodding at the knife lying by the boy's side. “She did him good,” he grins in appreciation.

"I'm sorry," he wails, tears streaming down his face, "I'm so sorry, Sam."

She hums and takes a step closer, her fists clenched tight. "Where. Is. She."

Ethan blanches, pressing himself flat against the wall. "We were talking and she- she told me how sorry she was about Anika, told me how hard it was seeing her die, and then… then I hugged her, because she was crying and shaking, and I couldn't just stand there." Sam nods, crouching, and urges him to go on, her fingers squeezing around his wrist. "And then I felt the pain. I- I pushed her away and she- she did it again, she stabbed me again. It hurts so bad, Sam… Please," he sobs, wheezing.

Sam hums, pulling his hand away from the wound and presses her palm against it, hard. "That's not what I asked you," she hisses, enjoying the way he starts to writhe, screaming in pain, and pushes harder. She leans down to whisper in his ear, "Where is she?"

Ethan looks at her with wide eyes, terrified.

"Sam," Tara warns, "stop."

Her father chuckles.

When Ethan doesn't answer, she pulls her hand away, only to punch him straight in the gut, earning a pathetic wheeze. "I won't ask again."

"You're m- mad," he chokes, looking at Tara for help.

"We all go a little mad sometimes," Sam hisses before punching him again and again.

In the corner, her father smiles proudly.

She needs to know where you are. She needs to know you didn't do this. She needs to know you're not one of them.

"Sam, that's enough." Her sister pulls her by the shoulders, forcing her to stop the assault on the poor boy. "You heard him.. You see him. It's her," she whispers, blinking back tears. Sam shakes her head, ready to resume the interrogation, but Tara stops her. "Sam. This is not you. Stop."

Sam blinks rapidly, only now seeing a twinge of fear in her sister's eyes. Fear of her. She stumbles back, choking on her breath and falls to her knees, numb.

She sees her father shaking his head, disappointed in his daughter for stopping so early, for trusting you. She feels her sister's warm embrace, and hears her soothing words. She clings to her, burying her face in the smaller girl's frame, only one thought on her mind.

It's you.

#sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x reader #ghostface!sam #melissa barrera x you #melissa barrera x reader #scream #otde

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 11 months

Note

can you do Ethan Landry and reader where Ethan’s insecure about his size? But in reality it’s actually pretty big?? Love ur work btw 💗

"look, it's fine. i don't want to pressure you into anything. if you're not ready now, i can wait. it's entirely up to you, okay baby?" you said, placing your hand against ethan's face comfortingly.

he smiled and leaned into your touch. "it's not that. i just- i don't want to disappoint you."

you tilted your head in confusion. "what are you talking about, baby? you could never disappoint me."

ethan's face flushed red and he looked away, inadvertently pulling away from your touch. "i- i know you've been with other people before, and i guess i'm just worried about how i'll- you know, compare?"

you smiled softly, reaching out to turn his head back towards you. "you don't have to worry about any of that. i know you're not very experienced, i'm not expecting you to know what you're doing."

he shook his head, blushing even harder. "no, it's not that. it's just that i'm- uh, small."

"oh. ohhhh," you said, finally understanding what he meant. "well, even if that's the case, i don't mind. i want to be with you, i don't care about your size."

"are you sure?"

you nodded, placing your hand on top of his. "i'm sure. it's fine baby, i promise."

he sighed, biting his lip nervously. "alright, fine. i'll show you. just please promise that you won't make fun of it."

"i promise, baby."

ethan lifted his hips slightly, and slowly slid down his sweatpants and boxers, revealing himself to you. your eyes widened when you finally saw him, he was only half hard and he was still the biggest you had ever seen.

"holy shit, ethan," you said, feeling your mouth water slightly.

he closed his eyes tightly and turned his head away in embarrassment. "i- i know it's not much but-"

"are you fucking kidding me, baby? you're delusional. i've never been with someone this big before, i'm not even sure you'll be able to fit in me."

"wh-what?" ethan asked, taken aback by your words.

"i guess it won't hurt to try though, right?"

tags: @nowitsmissing @hyeyulove

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lady-raziel · 5 months

Text

and alright, here's my last (let's hope) and boldest take yet. lots of people have been talking about the level of staff (around 25-ish people) at watcher, and whether downsizing that number could have been a potential avenue of reducing costs before just jumping to a subscription model. at first i was like yeah, i'm not sure that there needs to be 18 people involved in making a lets play. i was in the fucking trenches in the unus annus days and i'm still amazed how markiplier and ethan nestor managed to put out pretty well edited videos every day for a whole year with only a handful of editors and a couple people filming. what unus annus was trying to do and what watcher is trying to do are obviously pretty different, but the point is that you really don't need a whole crew of people to make lots of different types of content and do it well.

i still think there probably doesn't need to be a whole production crew involved with the creation of some of the simpler types of content watcher puts out. however, i don't think the size of the staff is the real problem. in fact, i think the staff of watcher probably should have been larger.

let me explain. if i begrudgingly go to one of my most detested websites (linkedin. *bleeegh*) and look up watcher, i can see that pretty much every person on staff is in a creative role of some sort by their own admission. at first glance, its like, oh, that makes sense. they're making creative products, it's natural that they should all be in creative roles. however, once you think about it for a little longer from a business perspective, that fact is really concerning.

after all, by watcher's own definition, this is a production studio. this is a company. So in this sea of creative roles, who's doing corporate planning? Who's managing finance? Who's doing payroll? Or brand outreach? Or human-freaking-resources??? you can hire outside groups for all this. i'm aware. but those services cost a lot of money to contract too. i'm just finding it concerning that there is pretty much no one on full time staff that is there to at least do some of this stuff. if watcher wants to be a big-boy company, that's fine, but that means you have to pay some people to be part of your company to do the not-fun business stuff like accounting. or resource management.

if they want to be a real company, they should actually have a lot more people on staff to deal with all the non-creative parts of running a company. even if they contract out most of it, you want at least a few people that are your people and don't actually work for someone else. that's how you don't get screwed over or end up in a contract you can't get out of.

which leads me to my last train of thought. like, as i go through the staff of watcher and look at what they do, it really seems like one of the ONLY people who's job it was to look at the business side of things WAS steven lim in his role as CEO. and thinking about that, i'm like god, can you imagine?? here's a guy who just wants to create cool stuff too but as one of the few people who has to think about the realities of Brand and the Business, HE has to be the one to burst the bubble. He as CEO has to say no to people and make decisions to make sure the company survives. In a group of creative people who just want to make things they're interested in, no expense spared, he was probably the guy who had to stay at least a little tethered to reality.

I'm not about to say that steven lim isn't to blame here. everyone involved in making the decisions that have led up to this point is part of this. but shit, it absolutely sucks to have to be the person at the end of the brainstorm session when everyone is coming up with their best ideas and to have to say "guys, i don't think any of these things are possible unless we make some big decisions."

is that what happened at watcher HQ? i don't know. at this point, with radio silence from everyone, speculation is all we've got. but if you follow the thread of a bunch of creatives striking out on their own to make their own business after being burned by their former employer, despite not knowing really how to run a business, and then only hiring fellow creative people and not other people who actually run business things... well, all of this starts to make slightly more sense in WHY none of watcher's actions make sense. everybody wants to stick it to the man and be their own boss with their own business, until it actually comes to the hard parts of doing that. at that point people start to realize, "oh, maybe some of the things that existed at my old job were there for a reason, actually."

all this is why lots of creatives striking out and starting their own businesses don't work in the end. they're thinking about in terms of creative products still, when they really need to be focusing more on the "business" part of the "creative business." it's sad. it sucks. it destroys a lot of good ideas and good people, because one person in every company like that has to be the one who thinks practically. could this have been avoided if watcher had been hiring people all along to manage this business and not just adding people to add to the creative output? maybe. even then it might not have been enough to curb other predictable impulses that led us down this path.

i feel bad for watcher, and i feel bad for the fandom. but i can't help but wonder if this was always the kind of situation we were going to end up in, and we just missed some of the warning signs because ALL of us were thinking, "well, that could never happen to us. we're different. not the Ghoul Boys."

#watcher #watcher tv #two stupidly long thinkpieces in one morning? wow! what a bargain!#just don't ask which of my responsibilities i'm ignoring by typing all this out

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 5 months

Note

lmfao i should’ve worded it better 😭 virgin ethan x virgin reader and reader has a breeding kink

Full disclaimer: Not sure how I feel about this, lmao. I didn't really write a plot for it👀

It's so short, and I've never written this kink when it's wasn't Ethan that had it, but I TRIED. Thank you for your request, love💕

Loaded - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You're ready for your first time with your boyfriend, but he's a little surprised when you don't want to use protection.

Contains: p in v, creampie, unprotected sex...but not really because reader is on birth control.

A/N: This is SO SHORT because I'm writing a super sweet, fluffy virgin smut atm. That'll be posted soon💕

Ethan’s head was spinning as he undressed you for the first time, soft gasps slipping past your lips whenever his hands brushed against your exposed skin. He couldn’t believe this was happening, something he’d waited so long for.

Once you were completely bare for him, he took his jeans off, his boxers being the only barrier between the two of you.

“You’re sure about this, right?” He asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “You want to do this?”

“Yes, Ethan,” you huffed, stepping closer to your boyfriend. “Don’t you?”

“So fucking bad,” he groaned, once the palm of your hand brushed over his cock. “Let me get a condom.”

“Do you really need one?” You questioned, your fingers moving against his sensitive tip. His hips bucked as you smirked at him. “I was hoping we could do it without one.”

“That’s so risky, baby,” he said, his eyes lusty as his hands ran over your hips. “What if I don’t pull out in time?”

“I don’t want you to pull out.”

His brown eyes grew wide at your words, a confused look on his face as he stared at you.

“You know babies come from unprotected sex, right?”

“Eth, I’ve been on birth control for so long, and I take it every day,” you sweetly said, as your hand kept moving. You felt a wet spot starting to form from his precum. “I want to feel all of you, baby.”

“Fuck…you take it every day?”

“Every morning,” you said with a nod, trying to convince him.

“Okay.”

When you laid back on Ethan’s bed, your legs spread for him, he groaned at the sight as he ran the tip of his cock over your dripping pussy.

“What if I cum too quick?” He asked, getting a little nervous. He knew he wasn’t going to last long just from his cock rubbing against you. You had a look of excitement on your face at his question, as he once again, got confused. “Isn’t it bad if I cum too quick?”

“Not if I can make you hard again,” you smirked, “because it would be so hot if you fucked your cum into me.”

“You gotta quit talking like that or I’ll cum before I even get inside you,” he chuckled, as he inched himself in.

He stilled every time you winced, because regardless of how filthy your words were, he still wanted to take care of you.

“God, baby. You’re so tight,” he said through heavy breathing, his eyes scanning your face to make sure you were okay. “You want me to give you a minute?”

“No, you can move,” you said, your mouth falling open once he did what you said. You were softly panting with each thrust, but once he sped up, you were a moaning mess.

Your sounds along with the amazing feeling of your pussy had Ethan struggling to keep it together. He looked away from you, staring at the pillows beside you as he tried so hard not to bust within the first two minutes.

“Look at me,” you whined, as your hand reached up to his face, turning his head so your eyes connected with his. The second he saw your furrowed brows, blown-out pupils, and focused on those sounds you were making, he started to whimper.

“Shit, gonna cum.”

Your legs wrapped around him, holding him in place as his hips started to stutter, a low moan slipping past his lips as his cum filled your pussy.

You were so turned on at the idea of it, but once it actually happened, you got this feral glint in your eyes. Ethan looked down at you as he stayed inside you, a smile playing on his lips.

“Is that what you wanted, baby?” He asked, before he started to move his hips again.

“Fuck..unf-yes,” you said between thrusts. “Fuck a baby into me.”

Ethan slowed down a little, his stomach lurching at your words. But you said you were on birth control, and he knew you wouldn’t lie to him, especially with something that would be so life altering, so he decided to go along with it.

“Aww, you want to be pregnant with my baby?”

“Yes, shit-I want everyone to know I’m yours,” you babbled, as he started to go faster, his thrusts getting deeper. “I need you to cum in me so much that the birth control won’t be able to stop it.”

“I’ll give you all my cum. Your tummy will be so big,” he said, his words along with his thrusts bringing you closer to the edge. “They’ll all know.”

“I want you to cum in me every day until I’m pregnant,” you said, your words laced with whimpers as his eyes started to flutter. He mumbled “I’m gonna cum again” before he started to pound into you. “Cum in me, baby. Please, I need it!”

His head fell forward as his thrusts got erratic, your name flooding out of his mouth over and over again as he shot his cum inside you. He took a second to catch his breath before he started to move again, trying so hard to bring you over the edge. His cock was so sensitive from his orgasms that it was almost painful, but your sounds just kept getting louder. He barely touched your clit when you cried out, your pussy squeezing him so tight as he let out a long, strained moan.

Once you came down from your high, a blissful smile playing on your lips, Ethan finally slid out of you. His body rested on top of yours as your fingers ran through his curls.

“Thank you, babe,” you said, kissing the top of his head.

“That was so hot,” he mumbled against you. “I know you’re on birth control, but maybe we should get a Plan B…just in case.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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