#maybe even... Quinn with Bailey...

[blackbrass]

M!Bailey inspired by that one scene from the new update

[woodsborostabathon]

pondering the kirsch siblings orb yet again and you really cannot convince me that quinn would not have been moving like depression era bella in new moon from the moment she even FOUND OUT richie was moving to modesto...

[rollingsins]

Quinn Bailey Must Die

P1 | P2 | P3

summary: Quinn Bailey is yours and Tara's man-eating, sexed up, horn-dog roommate. She's cool at first, you think. Until she sets her sights on Tara. 

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, language.

word count: 6.6k

a/n: set in the all hers universe, just a lil (big) one shot. love u guys, as always let me know your thoughts, always makes my day :))

Quinn Bailey is - to put it lightly - an absolute pain in your ass. 

New York City is expensive. 

College is expensive. 

And despite your parents' assistance and you and Tara both working part time jobs, it just isn’t feasible for you to get your own place in the city. 

So you’d put an ad in the paper. Found Quinn. She’d seemed fun at first - lively. The type of girl you’d want to be friends with in a new city like this. A tried and true party girl, glimmering like a jewel in a sea of dreary faces. 

But her sparkle had lasted all of three weeks. 

First it was the dishes. 

She left them piled up in the sink, unattended. For days, sometimes weeks. 

A little pet peeve of yours, but it wasn’t anything major. 

It had nothing on the men. 

They were like a revolving door. An entire roster of bodies to keep her warm. 

Short men. Tall men. Thin men, muscular men. Men with beards. Men without. Pretty men, sometimes, even ugly men. 

If he lived in the tri-state area and had a penis - likely he’d seen the inside of your apartment (and your roommate). 

But really, you’re not in the position to complain. 

You and Tara weren’t exactly known for having quiet sex, and of all the people you’d lived with, Quinn seemed to mind it the least. 

Maybe, looking back, that should have been the first warning sign. 

“I don’t know,” Quinn sighs one night over a glass of wine. Tara’s curled up in your arms, nursing her own glass as you play with her hair, “Sometimes I think I should just give them all up.” 

“Men?” You ask, furrowing your brow. You laugh a little at the thought, “I don’t know Quinn, outside of partying, men are your biggest hobby.” 

It’s not intended as a slight, and Quinn doesn’t take it as one. She throws a coy smile your way. 

“I don’t know, you two have just got me thinking lately,” She says, “I’ve never considered girls before. I mean, I like dick. A lot. But maybe dick isn’t everything.” 

“Poetic,” You say, an eyebrow raised. 

Men or women, it didn’t really matter who Quinn bought home. You’d have to wear your noise canceling headphones regardless. 

But Tara’s shifting in your arms, sitting up. Then, she narrows her eyes at Quinn.  

Like she’s scanning her for a potential threat. 

Although therapy had quietened some of Tara’s more jealous tendencies, it hadn’t gotten rid of them completely. Now, instead of stabbing - she chooses staring. 

You rub her arm, your quiet signal there are no threats here. 

“Besides,” Quinn says, throwing her hair back, “A chick can just strap one on, right? And it never goes soft. Maybe that’s an upgrade.” 

Tara’s tense against you. 

Quinn looks over at her, and suddenly notices the death glare she’s receiving. She pinches her eyebrows, a little confused. 

“What’s got you all worked up?” Quinn asks, with another flick of her hair. Her eyes widen, “Oh? You think I’m trying to make a play for your girl?” 

She leans back and lets out a loud laugh. 

“Chill Tara, if I was going to go for either of you, it wouldn’t be her.” 

And then it’s your turn to stare. 

Your hand freezes over Tara’s arm. A hot, familiar feeling of jealousy seeps through you, settles deep within your bones. 

Quinn catches your gaze and rolls her eyes. 

“Girls,” She says, exasperated, “You’re not the only pussy-lickers in town. Relax, okay?”

Tara leans back into you, seemingly placated. 

Quinn tilts her head, and downs the rest of her wine. She picks up her phone to call some other nameless man, no doubt to terrorize the two of you within the next half an hour. 

The conversation is over. 

But the jealousy bubbling under your skin doesn’t simmer down. And suddenly,  it’s the only thing you can think about. 

-

“What did she mean by that?” You agonize to Liv and Chad, a little later. 

You’re in the NYU quad, picking at your salad with a plastic fork. Tara’s in class, giving you more than enough time to stew on the conversation with Quinn. 

Chad slurps on his milkshake, seemingly unbothered. 

“She was just being friendly, YN, I wouldn’t read into it.” Says Chad, mouth open and full of food. 

Liv turns to him. Smacks his arm, a little too hard. 

“Friendly?” She says, voice shrill, “Friendly?” 

Chad blinks back at her, but she’s turning to you.  

“YN, she was not being friendly, don’t listen to him. Boys are so stupid.” 

“Hey-“ Interjects Chad, but Liv ignores him. She takes your arm. 

“She’s making a play for Tara, YN,” She says, a little urgently, “Girls do this. We like to play with our food before we eat it. She was scoping out Tara’s reaction before she put the moves on her for real.” 

You furrow your brow. 

“You think?” 

“I know,” Says Liv, “How do you think I got Chad?” 

Chad looks over to her, a little owlish. 

“Huh?” He says, creasing his forehead, “I asked you out, babe.” 

Liv shoots him a look. 

“You asked me out after I spent two weekends at your house asking for Mario Kart lessons.” 

Chad’s eyes widen. 

“You said that was so you could beat your brother!” 

Liv gives you a look. 

“Women are masterminds, YN. Watch the fuck out.” 

-

Liv’s comments ring in the back of your mind for the rest of the day. 

Now that you think about it, Quinn had been lounging about the house lately in scantily clad outfits. 

Sleep shorts that rose almost up to her hips. Tiny tank tops that were almost see through. She giggled a little too hard at Tara’s jokes, gushed over Tara’s cooking as if Tara was Gordon Ramsey himself. 

You’re starting to see it. 

Quinn liked her conquests. 

Men were easy, women a little harder - but for a girl who liked to conquer, who better than Tara? 

Your sweet, loving, loyal and devoted girlfriend. 

Prying Tara away from you wouldn’t be child’s play. 

Truly the Mount Everest of conquests. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Tara asks you a little later, after you’d spent half the night glaring at Quinn. 

She’d been traipsing around all afternoon in a pair of black panties and an old t-shirt, an outfit that wouldn’t have made you think twice about it a few days ago. 

But it’s different now. 

Liv’s words ring loud in your head, “Women are masterminds, YN.” 

You don’t respond, instead dropping a soapy pot to the countertop and watching as Quinn disappears into her bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear. 

Tara snakes her arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. 

“Babe?” Tara prompts. 

“Nothing,” You mumble. You’re in your own head now, half afraid if you say it out loud it will become true. 

You feel Tara’s pout against your shoulder. 

“Something’s wrong, you barely said anything when I tried to get you to watch Saw III,” She says, turning you in her arms. 

She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her point. 

“And you hate gore movies.” 

“I like movies that make you happy,” You lie. 

Tara furrows her brow. 

“Okay, something is definitely wrong,” She says. She stands on her tip toes and presses the softest kiss to your cheeks, “Tell me babe, what is it?” 

You bite your lip. 

Tara is your girlfriend, you reason after a moment of hesitation, and if anyone were to understand jealousy - it would be her. 

You sigh and loop your arms around Tara’s waist. 

“Is Quinn… do you think she’s acting weird?” 

Tara frowns. 

“No weirder than usual.” 

“It’s just…” you chew your lip, “I think she might.. be into you, babe.” 

Tara shoots you a look. 

“I don’t think so,” She says. She leans up and presses a kiss to your lips, “She has a pretty solid roster of dudes to keep her entertained.” 

She brushes a stand of hair out of your face, “Is that what’s bothering you, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.” 

It placates you for only a moment. 

Of course you don’t have anything to worry about. Tara adores you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara loves you with every fiber of her being. 

It’s just… 

Quinn is pretty. So pretty. 

Tara had fallen hard and fast for you, who’s to say she couldn’t fall the same way for someone else? 

And then the dread is back. 

“It’s just… Liv said-“ 

Tara groans. 

“Babe, don’t worry about what Liv has said. She barely knows the days of the week.” 

“But she knows how to get guys,” You say, a little pointed. 

Tara tilts her head. Her eyes are warm, the softest smile on her lips. 

“I’m not a guy,” Tara promises. She nuzzles her nose against yours, “Quinn could parade around here naked doing backflips and I wouldn’t look twice at her. You know that, babe.” 

You do know that. 

And so you let Tara press warm kisses into your neck and drag you back to the bedroom. 

Make sure to moan a little louder than usual just to remind Quinn exactly who Tara belongs to. 

-

It doesn’t work. 

Because of course, why would it work? 

The barrage of men flitting in and out of Quinn’s room comes to a screeching halt. She’s celibate for almost a week, focusing all her sexual energy on your girlfriend. 

It’s subtle, in the masterful kind of way Liv described. 

“Man,” She sighs loudly, one morning from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Tara, do you think you could help me on this paper for film class? I have to write a paper on iconic women in horror.” 

Tara springs to action, charging away from you like this is her sole purpose in life: to share her catalog of benign horror knowledge to any pretty girl who looks her way. 

You fold your arms, unhappily. 

“Start with Ellen Ripley,” Tara commands, before she even sits down. Quinn begins typing, madly. Tara pulls up a chair next to Quinn’s, leaning in a respectful distance to peer down at Quinn’s screen.  

“Signorney Weaver’s impact on horror is maybe one of the things that made me interested in horror to begin with.”

“I didn’t know that,” Quinn coos. She touches Tara’s arm, only slightly, leaning in until their shoulders brush, “That’s so cute, Tara.” 

Tara draws back, clearing her throat. 

“When you’re done with Sigourney, maybe touch on Jamie-Lee-Curtis.” 

Quinn blinks over at her, eyes round, like an innocent doe. 

You know better. 

Your eyes narrow as you stand, reaching for your purse. 

“Baby,” You remind Tara, leaning over to touch her back, “We need to get groceries today. Before Sam comes to visit.”

Quinn’s schoolgirl act drops immediately. Her eyes frost over slightly as she looks over at you, only the tiniest twinge of irritation apparent. 

“Maybe you could do that later, YN?” She asks, voice tilted, “I have to get this paper done before tonight.” 

“Sorry,” You flash her the mildest smile, not sorry at all, “Tara’s sister is coming all the way from California. We need to get the place ready, right babe?”

Tara nods, turning to Quinn to shrug.  

“Google should be able to help,” She says, scooting off her chair and grabbing her coat, “Carrie’s a great film too, if you’re in a pinch.”

“Well, maybe you can help me when you get back?” Quinn asks, a slight pout on her lip as she looks at Tara. 

Your eyes narrow, but Tara nods, helpfully. 

“Sure.” 

-

Naively, you’d hoped Quinn would get bored with this little game she’d started. 

Her attention span is short, you’d reasoned, as soon as she’d figured out Tara isn’t returning any of her flirty looks or comments, she’d get bored. 

You’d been wrong. 

If anything, Tara’s lack of interest only seems to spur Quinn on more. 

Most of your classes are in the mornings, Tara’s in the afternoon. Tara walks you to class, leaves you with a soft kiss and an “I love you”, but you know Quinn doesn’t work until the evenings, and it’s just her and Tara alone in that tiny little apartment for hours on end. 

So you toil in your classes. Imagine the worst. 

Tara and Quinn, sitting side by side, watching horror movies. Quinn touches her arm, then her thigh, leaning in to kiss her. 

Tara bats her away, most times you think about it. But sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she lets herself be kissed. Sometimes she lets Quinn touch her, undress her. Fuck her. 

And those sometimes become all you can think about. 

This is a new challenge, one that has rarely surfaced in your relationship. 

Tara is so enamored with you, most people don’t even bother attempting to seduce her. But Quinn isn’t most people, she’s persistent and pretty and maybe Tara isn’t a guy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t fall for the same traps a lot of them do. 

A sticky hot, honey-trap by the name of Quinn Bailey. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, a little stern when you walk into the apartment that afternoon. Tara’s curled up onto the couch, blanket wrapped around her. Quinn’s hovering over her, the back of her hand pressed against Tara’s forehead. 

A prickle settles down the back of your spine. Your jaw clenches. 

But Tara doesn’t even look over, just nuzzles herself deeper into her blanket. 

“Tara isn’t feeling well, poor baby.” Quinn coos. 

You drop your bag, ignore the rageful little demon in you that wants to bat Quinn’s hand away and fall to your girlfriend's side. The tip of Tara’s nose is red, and her lips are chapped. As she blinks up at you, you notice her eyes are hazy. 

“Honey,” You say, all thought of Quinn gone as you press your lips to Tara’s cheek, “Why didn’t you call?” 

“It’s nothing, just a cold,” Says Tara, but she curls into your side anyway. You press a gentle kiss to her clammy forehead and rub her arm. Quinn disappears into the kitchen, returning with a small bowl. 

“I made her some tea,” Says Quinn, “And some soup from scratch.” 

You blink up at her. You’ve never seen Quinn cook anything in her life. She’s all Deliveroo and fruit roll ups and toast. But the kitchen sink is awash with stray noodles and dirty pots. The smell of soup lingers. 

“Thanks Quinn,” Tara murmurs, reaching out to take the bowl from her hands, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

The angry, jealous demon is back. Quinn’s smile is unsettling, almost triumphant. 

As if she’s out-girlfriend-ed you. 

You swallow the urge to punch her in the throat. 

“No, you didn’t.” You say, warily, “Tara’s allergic to MSG, you didn’t put any of that in it, did you?” 

Quinn shakes her head, her smile coy. 

“All natural, only the best for our girl.” Quinn says, and then squeezes Tara’s shoulder. 

You glare as she cleans up the dirty plates and contemplate homicide for the rest of the evening. 

-

When Tara’s feeling better, you’ll bring it up, you reason with yourself the next morning. 

Quinn Bailey is becoming a pest, a horned up sex-pest determined to get her claws in your girlfriend. 

It has to stop. 

The solution? 

This is where you’re a little stuck. You don’t know the solution. Strangling Quinn sounds great on paper, but not so much in practice. 

Dead people don’t pay rent, that’s the only thing you know for sure.

You contemplate this over the next couple of days, between wrestling a hot water bottle for Tara out of Quinn’s hands, and almost jogging down to the corner store at the end of your block to beat Quinn for the tylenol. 

Tara’s such a baby when she’s sick, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s starting to enjoy this. Two women fawning over her, competing for who can nurse her the best. 

And the worst part is, Quinn knows exactly what she’s doing and she wants you to know it. 

She doesn’t say it, not outright, too smart to play her hand too quickly. 

She grins as she spoonfeds Tara some leftover soup, flashes you a look as she dabs Tara’s sweaty forehead with a damp cloth. 

She raises an eyebrow at you as Tara croaks out to her, asking for more tissues. 

It makes you stew. 

It makes you want to grab the kitchen knife out of the top draw and slam it through her stupid neck.

It makes you want to grab her by the hair and throw her out of the window of your seventh story apartment. 

But you resist. 

Let her think she’s winning. 

It’ll make the victory you claw from her hands all the more sweet. 

Tara’s feeling better a few days later, and with her recovery comes the first taste of victory. 

Quinn’s making dinner in the kitchen - her newfound passion being culinary for your girlfriend. She hums a little, flitting between batting her eyelashes at Tara and shooting knowing glances in your direction. 

“Tara,” She says, just as she’s about to pour the tomato paste into the pasta “I can’t get this jar open. Can you help me?” 

Tara’s busy with her laptop, but she moves over regardless. She touches your shoulder lightly as she passes, and reaches out to take the jar from Quinn’s hand. 

It pops open immediately. You roll your eyes. 

Quinn beams, and as you look up, she’s running her hand over your girlfriend’s bicep. 

“You’re so strong,” She flirts, brazenly, “Thanks Tara.” 

Tara moves back to her laptop, unperturbed. 

When it comes to attention towards her she has always been oblivious. You let out a growl so low, no-one but you hears it. 

“Dinner’s up, Tara,” Quinn says, a few moments later, pulling out a couple of plates. 

You peer down at your book, suddenly very interested in the words. When Quinn had asked you your plans for the evening - grocery bags in hand - you’d neglected to tell her Tara had asked you out to dinner. 

Tara blinks over at her, a little confused. 

“Dinner?” She asks, closing the lid of her laptop. 

“Yeah,” Says Quinn with a sickly smile, “I made your favorite.” 

Tara tilts her head, “Oh. Sorry, Quinn, we’re going out tonight. I didn’t realize you were cooking for us.” 

Quinn stares a moment. 

“That’s fine,” She says, voice a little clipped, “Only, I asked YN and she said you guys were around.” 

You close your book and stand, grabbing your coat. 

“Oh yeah,” You say, smacking your hand to your head, as if you’d suddenly forgotten, “Dinner. I am so sorry, Quinn. Gosh, I am so forgetful sometimes.” 

Tara peers over at you, a little confused. 

Oblivious idiot when it comes to girls, yes, but not with you. You see the question in her eyes and neglect to answer it. 

Quinn’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t dare give up the jig. Not in front of Tara.

“It’s fine,” She says, “Maybe you can have it for lunch.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Tara says, a little absent minded as you wrap her jacket around her shoulders. 

You can tell she feels bad by the way she lingers. 

“We haven’t had a date night in a while, that’s all,” Tara explains. She wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip, “Besides, I owe this one a dinner for taking such good care of me these last couple of days.” 

She presses a soft kiss to your lips, her brown eyes warm and shimmering. 

You can’t help the smile that snakes across your lips. 

Quinn crosses her arms, looking unhappy. 

“I seem to remember taking pretty good care of you,” She says, drawing Tara’s gaze, “Maybe you should be taking me out to dinner, too.” 

Tara’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She looks at you, a little helpless, like she’s suddenly aware she’s caught in a chess match she wasn’t aware she was playing. 

Bless her. 

Your poor, sweet, unsuspecting girlfriend. 

You squeeze her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 

“

“Did you get the feeling Quinn’s mad at me?” She asks, “Maybe we should have invited her to dinner. She did make me a lot of soup.” 

You tilt your wine glass to your lips, needing the rush of the alcohol to get you through this conversation. 

When you set it down, Tara’s blinking back at you, with wide, brown eyes. 

“Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, babe?” You say, “About my conversation with Liv.” 

Tara nods. 

“And have you noticed it, this past couple of weeks?” You prompt, “Quinn flirting with you?” 

Tara tilts her head. 

“No.” 

“Tara, she touched your arm and called you strong,” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Quinn had gone to work earlier that day, blown a kiss goodbye to Tara as she’d left. 

Made sure you’d seen it. 

Tara shrugs, “I’ve been in the gym, babe, I’m getting stronger.”

She flexes her bicep. 

“Look, babe, that’s all muscle.” She says, proudly. 

“That’s not the point, Tara,” You say, “She’s flirting with you. She’s been flirting with you all week.” 

Tara frowns. 

“She has?” She asks, looking a little perplexed. 

Then, she pouts. 

“So she was just complimenting my lasagne because she wanted to sleep with me?” She says, looking put out, “I thought she really liked my new recipe.” 

“Forget about the lasagne, Tara, this is not okay.” You say, “How would you feel if she were hitting on me?”

Tara frowns. 

“Not good,” She admits, “Bad. Really, really bad.” 

You sigh, dropping your fork onto your plate. 

“She’s going to have to go,” You tell Tara, “If she can’t respect our relationship, she can get the fuck out.” 

Tara bites her lip. 

“Okay, babe,” She says, a little wary, “It’s just… rent is due next month and I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to replace her.”

She squeezes your hand, a little hasty as she sees the look on your face. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Tara says, leaning up to kiss you, “I’ll remind her I’m taken and not interested. And if she still tries it after that, she goes. How’s that, babe?” 

-

Tara’s talk with Quinn happens a little later. 

You climb into bed, head tilted as you hear the quiet murmur of their voices down the hall. It doesn’t sound heated, and you hear Quinn giggling as she tells Tara goodnight. 

You frown as Tara enters the room. 

“It’s just a misunderstanding, baby,” She says as she climbs into bed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “She doesn’t like me. She told me she’s just been a little clingier than usual because we’re her only friends.” 

“Babe-“ You start with a huff, ready to climb out of bed but Tara’s hands grip around your waist. 

“I know, I know, babe.” She assures, pressing another quick kiss to your neck, “I know you think it’s all bullshit so I told her straight up. I told her I’m in love with you and if she tries anything we’ll kick her straight out.” 

You frown, turning in her arms, “Really?” 

“Really.” Tara says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I promise to keep my distance, okay babe? She can flirt until the cows come home, it’s going to fall on deaf ears.” 

She snuggles into your chest, soothing your hammering heartbeat with a kiss. 

“I love you. Only you.” 

-

True to her word, Tara goes out of her way to avoid Quinn. 

Gone are their cozy little sessions on the couch watching horror movies. Tara refuses Quinn’s cooking, turns down each of Quinn’s requests to hang out, or help her with homework, or whatever other brainless task Quinn can think of to get them to spend time together. 

The rental market is fucked, you discover in the interim. 

No way can you and Tara afford to move out, and even if Quinn did leave, it could take months to replace her. 

“No,” Mindy says, point blank when you ask her, “Not unless you and Tara swear to a vow of celibacy.” 

You sigh, unhappily. 

“Great,” You say, slumping back into your seat, “We’re going to be stuck with her forever.” 

Mindy looks over at you, taking a little pity on you. 

“Why don’t you ask Chad and Liv?” She suggests, “They won’t be able to hear you fuck over Liv’s soap operas anyway.” 

“I already asked,” You say, voice gloomy, “They’re in a two year contract.” 

Mindy shoots you a sympathetic smile. 

“You’ll find someone,” She says, “You just need to put some feelers out there.” 

And so you do. 

You spend the morning in class writing up the ad. You’ll put in the paper tomorrow, you figure. 

When you get home, ready to avoid Quinn and spend a night snuggling in bed with Tara, Tara’s already at the door. 

“Hey babe,” Tara says, bouncing up to greet you with a kiss. She smiles, lowering her voice, “Missed you. Wanna shower with me?” 

You smile and kiss her. 

“You know we can’t,” You say, regretfully, “Last time we used up all the hot water.” 

“So let’s have a cold shower,” She suggests, her smile turning into a leer, “I’ve got other ways to warm you up.” 

“Izzie, how are you? It’s been ages!” Quinn sounds from the living room. Your smile drops - you didn’t realize she was home. Tara notices your face shift, and rubs your hip, comfortingly. 

“She’s been good, babe, I promise,” Tara says, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?” 

“I’ll start dinner,” You say, leaning in to kiss her quickly, “You go, baby.” 

Quinn’s in the living room, lounging across the couch when you enter. 

“Yeah, I’ve never done it before,” Says Quinn. If she’s noticed you in the kitchen, she doesn’t acknowledge you. She kicks her shoes off and lays back into the couch, twirling her hair between her fingers. 

“I just can’t stop thinking about it. You know? I really want to try it.” 

You pull a few potatoes from the bag and pull out a knife. 

Just a little while longer, you think, trying to stop yourself from glancing over. Just a few more weeks of her and then you’d never have to see her again. 

Quinn looks over, catching your eye. 

As if she can tell you’re thinking about her. 

And then, she smiles. 

“I met a guy last night, took him home because he looked a little bit like her. Dark hair, dark eyes, short.” She says, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur, “Fucked his brains out imaging it was her on top of me. Inside me. And she will be. Soon.” 

She’s looking right at you. Her voice is a low taunt, daring you to take the bait. 

And you fall for it. 

Hook, line and sinker. 

You slam the knife to the kitchen counter, cheeks flushing red. 

“That’s it,” You growl as you launch at her, “You’re fucking dead, do you hear me?” 

Quinn stares a moment, her jaw slacking. 

As if she hadn’t realized her taunting would finally come to fruition. 

In the form of you launching to grab at the end of her hair. 

You tug at it, hard, determined to make the end of your fist meet the slant of her chin. She squeals, dropping her phone as you tug her towards you. 

“YN,” She cries, “Stop it, you’re fucking crazy-” 

“You think this is funny?” You growl, letting go of her hair to shove her back against the couch. You swing at her - and miss - and you know you must look crazed. All wild eyes, red-faced, three weeks of taunting finally setting you over the edge, “ You think trying to sleep with my girlfriend is a game?” 

“Tara!” Quin screams as you launch at her once more, “Tara, help!” 

Tara’s name on Quinn’s lips - if possible, just makes you angrier. You lunge over the couch, but she stands, squealing as she ducks your advances. 

You hear the bathroom door slam, and a flash of dark hair before you turn to see Tara, soaking wet, towel pressed around her torso. Her hair is soapy with shampoo and she looks dismayed as she looks at the sight in front of her. 

Quinn screaming like a child and you feral. Grabbing for her with all your might. 

“Baby?” She says, sounding scandalized, “What are you doing?” 

Quinn lets out a sob. Teary-eyed, she barrels over to Tara and stands behind her, grabbing at Tara’s arms as if she’s her knight in shining armor. 

“She’s attacking me, Tara,” Quinn blubbers out through her crocodile tears, “Make her stop, please.” 

“Oh, give it a rest, would you?” You say, voice harsh, “Tears? Really? Why don’t you tell Tara what you were saying about her on the phone, huh? Why don’t you be honest for once in your fucking life and tell her what you’ve been trying to do this entire time.” 

“I was talking about a girl from my Chemistry class,” Quinn says, as if you’re crazy, “Her name is Charlotte, I wasn’t talking about Tara.” 

“Oh, bullshit,” You scoff, “Just admit it. You’ve been all over Tara from day one.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bitch,” Quinn says, “Look, just because you’re insecure, doesn’t mean I’m trying to sleep with your girlfriend.” 

“Enough,” Growls Tara. She wrenches her hand away from Quinn, turning to round on her. The anger within you dissipates slightly. You swallow as you’ve realized Quinn has inadvertently awoken The Rage. 

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Tara says, her voice hot, “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

Quinn blinks at her. 

“Tara, it’s fine,” You say, hurriedly, “Babe, leave it.” 

And as much as you want to see Quinn get punched in the face, you don’t want The Rage to be the one to do it. 

You’d paid for too much therapy to see that fucker unleashed again. 

“Apologize,” Tara demands, her eyes flashing, “Apologize to her now.” 

You reach for Tara’s hand, tug her back towards you, out of Quinn’s reach. Her heart is racing,  her shoulders tight. You press your lips to her shoulder in an effort to soothe her. 

Quinn’s face contorts. You half think she’s about to spit right in your face. Maybe take a swing at you of her own. But then her face softens. 

“I’m sorry, YN,” She says, voice silky sweet, “It really was a misunderstanding. I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I was trying to take your girlfriend from you. I’m not, I promise.” 

She sounds sincere, but you see right through her. 

“Alright,” Tara says, though her shoulders are still tight, “Good. Now I’m going to finish my shower, and the two of you are not going to kill each other. Right?” 

Quinn nods, solemnly. 

“Bedroom,” You tell Tara, “Now.” 

-

“She’s going,” Is the first thing you say as Tara shuts the door. You’re pacing back and forth, your skin burning hot and red, “She’s fucking gone, Tara. I mean it this time. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Mindy’s couch for the next three years, I am not spending another second with her-” 

Tara rubs her eyes. They’re a little red, stained with unwashed shampoo. 

“Baby, why don’t you sit down for a bit?” She suggests, “Look at you, you’re all worked up.” 

You turn to stare her down, anger flashing through your features. 

“She was talking about fucking you, Tara,” You hiss, “Right in front of me. She was talking about how she wanted you inside her.” 

Tara moves a little closer, trying to touch your arm. You shake her off to continue your pacing. 

“You’re mine,” You seethe, “I don’t know what part of that is so hard for her to understand.” 

“Baby-” Tara starts. 

“You’re not talking me out of this, Tara,” You snap, “I want her gone. Tonight.” 

Tara catches your arm. She draws you in for a long kiss. 

She’s trying to settle you down. 

It works.  

“I’m yours,” She says, softly, “Like I already told you, you don’t have to worry about her.” 

“You promised, Tara,” You say, voice agonized, “You promised if she tried anything else she’d be gone. And I swear to god, Tara - if you try to take her side-“  

Tara shushes you with another kiss. 

Then she draws back, her voice soft. 

“Of course I’m not going to take her side, sweetheart,” Tara says, “I’m your girlfriend. I’m always on your side. She’s going. You don’t have to ask twice.” 

This relaxes you a little. Tara presses another lingering kiss to your lips. 

“Like hell we’re sleeping on Mindy’s couch, though,” Tara says, crinkling her brow, “Sam can lend us the money. She won’t mind.” 

Sam might mind. 

But it’s really the least of your worries. 

“Thank you,” You say, sighing as you lean into Tara’s chest. 

Tara squeezes your shoulders. 

“Let me finish my shower,” She says, “And then I’ll talk to her.” 

She eyes you, warily. 

“Maybe you should take a walk or something, babe,” She says, after a moment of hesitation. She brushes your cheek, “You’re all red in the face.” 

You frown. 

“If you think I’m leaving you here with that sexed-up-piranha-” You start with a growl, and Tara draws her arms back around your shoulders. 

“Alright, alright,” She concedes, “It’s okay, babe, we’ll do it together.” 

But by the time Tara’s out of the shower, Quinn is long gone. 

You spend the night seething, not even Tara’s gentle kisses enough to coax you out of your mood.

In the morning, you hunt through the apartment like a lion hungry for its prey but she’s nowhere in sight. 

She’s stupid enough to try you, but not so stupid enough to hang around for the fallout. 

When you head off to class, Tara reassures you with a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“She’ll be back here at some point,” Tara says, “As soon as I see her I’ll tell her to pack her bags.”

Economics flashes by in a rage-filled trance. You don’t even bother with your marketing paper. You’re worked up. 

You just want her gone. 

And so you skip the rest of your morning classes and head home.

You don’t bother smiling at the doorman, fish your keys out of your pocket in a grump. 

When you get to the door, you tilt your key in the lock, fiddling around to pry the door open. 

And then you hear it. 

A cry - it’s Tara, and then you hear Quinn. She’s squealing again. You blink. Your mind runs rampant with the possibilities. 

Tara with her knife, plowing through Quinn with the kind of ire only The Rage can bring. 

Tara grunts, and it’s familiar. Your stomach lurches. You might be sick. 

You know that grunt. 

The indicator Tara might be plowing Quinn in a much different fashion. 

Betrayal sinks deep within your veins. You fumble with the door, almost pry it off its hinges in your effort to barge through it. 

It swings open, and the lump in your throat grows with the thought of what you might find on the other side of the door. 

But what you see isn’t what you expect. 

You blink. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you. 

“Tara,” You hiss as your jaw drops, “What are you doing?” 

Tara has Quinn in a firm grip. Her legs are wrapped tight around Quinn’s waist, she has Quinn’s head between her arms in a chokehold. Quinn’s eyes are wide. She struggles desperately against Tara’s grip, eyes bulging as she tries to wrangle her way out. 

The scene in front of you would be comical, if it weren’t real. 

But it’s very real. 

Quinn looks over to you the moment Tara does. 

The sound of your voice is her escape. 

Tara turns to you, grip lessening only slightly as she realizes your presence. Her brown eyes widen, the way they do when she knows she’s in trouble. 

Quinn pulls herself out of Tara’s grip with a heavy gasp, almost shoving Tara to the floor. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn says, voice high as she stands, “Are you actually serious right now?” 

“Explain, Tara,” You say, voice flat, “Now.” 

Tara looks over to you, eyes wide. She splutters as she speaks. 

“She tried to kiss me, babe,” Tara says, voice aghast, “She tried to kiss me and I didn’t know what else to do.” 

Quinn’s breathing heavily. 

She’s scary like this. Thundering over Tara’s tiny frame like she might snap her in two. 

“I throw myself at you and your first reaction is karate?” Quinn says to Tara. Her eyes are wild. She’s pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tara fires back, “I have a girlfriend.” 

You throw your bag to the ground. The heavy, unsettled feeling that’s stayed with you for the last three weeks is boiling. If Quinn doesn’t leave now, there’s no telling what you’ll do next. 

“Get out,” You tell Quinn, “You don’t live here anymore. Get your shit and go.” 

Quinn doesn’t move. 

“Get out,” You insist, “Before I kill you myself.” 

Quinn shoots an angry look at Tara, before redirecting it at you. 

“Fine,” She says, “You two deserve each other. Fucking Jackie Chan and Princess Prissy-”

“Out.” You snap as she grabs her purse. 

She shoots you an angry glare. 

“You can forget about rent,” She sneers, “And good luck finding someone else to live in this shitty apartment.” 

Your palms are sweating as she slams the front door shut. 

Tara looks up at you, eyes still wide, a little sheepish as you close in on her. 

“I didn’t kiss her babe, I swear,” Tara promises, leaning up to grab your hands, “She leaned in and I grabbed her before she could get close.” 

“I know you didn’t, babe,” You say after a long moment. Your voice softens. You brush her dark hair out of her eyes, “I know.” 

She’s quiet a moment. 

“I’m sorry that we didn’t kick her out sooner,” She says, “I really did just think she was trying to be my friend.” 

You sigh. Tilt your face to hers. 

“I know, babe,” You say, then you snort, “I can’t believe you put her in a headlock. Sam’s going to love that.” 

Tara pouts.

“She deserved it,” She says, “And speaking of Sam…” 

She looks up at her, eyes shimmering. 

“I talked to her about the rent,” Tara murmurs after a moment, “She agreed to help us out.” 

“Oh?” You say. A spark of hope sears deep within your chest. 

Tara bites her lip, “There’s a catch, though. She’s going to come live with us until we find a new roommate.” 

“Oh.” You say with a frown. 

“You’re not mad, are you?” Tara asks, a little hesitant, “I’d tell her no, but we’re really in a pinch, babe.” 

“It’s fine,” You say, after a moment, “I don’t mind living with Sam.” 

Tara hums. She leans in close against you. 

“And hey,” You nudge her, trying to keep the mood light, “At least I don’t have to worry about Sam trying to get into your pants.” 

Tara wrinkles her nose. 

You laugh. 

Lean down to kiss her, deep. 

Fuck you Quinn Bailey, you can’t help but think. 

You hope she enjoyed her little game.

Because when it comes to Tara, you never lose.

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

Fons vitae caritas - Love is the fountain of life

Summary : What if Ethan Landry survived the theater attack at the shrine ? You didn’t know he was one of the Ghostfaces and when you found him all bloody and whimpering on the floor, of course you helped him. Or in other words, you tend to the wounds of Ethan Landry, a killer but also the boy you always loved… and maybe it wasn’t an unrequited love after all. In all honesty, Ethan was enamored with you and never wanted you to be involved in all of this…

Pairing : Ethan Landry x Gn! Reader.

Word Count : 3.900 words.

Warnings : Hurt/Comfort, fluff, mention of blood, wounds and stitches.

Author’s Note : This was entirely written based on this lovely anon’s request. Tell me if I’ve missed anything and please don’t hesitate to give me feedback, it’s always greatly appreciated to know if I did good ! I also had a blast with this request (and writing for my lovely Ethan) so if you have requests for him, I’ll be excited to hear about your ideas.

You had been separated from the group at the subway station. There were way too many people at this time in the subway and you had been stuck in the middle of people walking in and out of the subway. However, what disconcerted you was the fact that Ethan, your dearest « friend », if you could really call him that with how much the two of you were close, let go of your hand in the middle of running to the subway. Maybe it was just a coincidence, you thought, without really believing it. Ethan always held your hand when you were outside, always, and he never let go of you, especially when there were that many people around, and with a killer on the loose on top of that. Ethan knew that you could get a bit scared outdoors when he wasn’t there to hold your hand and reassure you that everything was okay. He always looked back to see exactly where you were to look after you, but strangely… this time, when Ethan let go of your hand, he didn’t even make an attempt to walk back to get you, as he continued walking straight ahead like nothing happened… and it definitely wasn’t like him to do something like that. 

Everyone was ahead of you as you made your best to catch up on them after you had finally reached your stop. Luckily you knew the city by heart and it was easy for you to quickly arrive at the theater, where everyone had planned to trap the Ghostface killer inside his own shrine. Unfortunately, because you got to the theater way after the others, it was hard for you to find them as you walked inside the giant building. At some time, you heard screams of pain, you believed it was Chad as you started to walk faster in order to help him but when you thought you had finally reached him, you got further separated from your friends as not one but two Ghostfaces cornered you in a small room during the attack.

The hooded killers laughed as they closed the door behind them before removing their masks. You gasped in shock as you realized with widened eyes that the Ghostfaces were Detective Wayne Bailey and his - actually alive - daughter, Quinn. You tried to run past them but that was just futile as they laughed even louder at you, mocking you as Wayne didn’t even bother to make useless moves, barely lifting his arm up to shoot you in the right shoulder as he ordered his daughter to finish you off. Quinn stabbed you in the stomach as you groaned in pain and coughed a bit of blood when she harshly removed the knife from you, making you almost instantly fall to the ground in a silent cry, your vision slowly becoming dark and blurry as they both thought they had you dead and closed the door behind them like nothing happened.

Honestly, you should have been dead with all the blood that you lost but it seemed that fate had been by your side this time. When you woke up from your loss of consciousness, you got up with excruciating pain in your right side and shoulder. When you clenched your hand over your wounds, you could feel the blood staining your clothes and decided to tear a part of your long skirt to make rudimentary bandages that you wrapped around your shoulder and waist in hope that it will stop the bleeding at least until you get home. When you started walking to find the exit where you came from, it almost seemed that everything was over with how silent the theater had become. Moving your body was making your head dizzy as you winced in pain but you kept walking while avoiding the debris that were now obstructing some part of the silent shrine. Among them, two bodies particularly caught your attention… Quinn and her father were laying on the ground with fresh blood surrounding them… they had what they deserved, you thought without remorse as you quickly averted your gaze from them. After a few minutes, you finally found the exit that wasn’t too far away from you, making a smile appear on your face with the promise of safety that you could almost grasp. 

But when you were about to finally escape, you heard silent whimpers of pain coming from a corner. As you got closer, you could see Ethan laying on the ground on his stomach, almost covered in blood as a TV was crushing his right side : the edge of his face and a whole part of his shoulder. You gasped in shock and ran over to him, quickly removing the TV from him by pushing on it with your foot, gathering all the strength you could gather to rescue him. His safety being the only thing on your mind right now. 

Once you could finally see Ethan better, the state he was in was more than alarming : the right side of his face was all bruised, both of his shoulders seemed to have bigger opened wounds as blood was gushing out and he had small cuts all around his mouth as Ethan coughed up blood, making you panic even more as you carefully lifted Ethan in your arms, making his head rest on your lap as you gently caressed his hair. Your eyes watered when you had to imagine the pain he was in at the moment as your heart started to pound violently against your chest, anxiety controlling you as it was almost impossible for you to breathe.

You always had a soft spot for Ethan… or even more than that if you were honest with yourself and it broke your heart to see your poor Ethan that way. You tried ever so gently to caress the left side of his face in a way to reassure Ethan with your presence, miraculously making him stir awake little by little. Ethan only succeeded in fluttering his eyes open as his breath was ragged. When his eyes spotted your face looking down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks just to fall on his eyelashes, Ethan almost thought he was in heaven. He immediately wanted to talk to you but because he was stabbed in the mouth, Ethan struggled to talk and articulate his words at first but after a moment he managed to whisper your name in a silent weep. It was hard for him to even look at you, let alone breathe properly as his eyes watered at the sight of you all bloody in front of him. But what made his heart really flutter was the way you were looking at him, with such gentle eyes as you were holding his broken body in your arms.

Ethan didn’t want all of this to happen that way as his eyes briefly noticed that you were wounded somewhere, anger and frustration submerging him as he realized that his plan didn’t work the way he expected. 

Ethan had made sure you would not come here today. You couldn't be hurt in any way, he had repeated in his head a hundred times after his father had explained his plan to him a few days ago… the slaughter that will happen. 

You had to stay stuck in the subway, Ethan had planned on his own… and that’s exactly what he did earlier as he had let go of your hand on purpose, exactly when a lot of people gathered around, to be sure that you had no chance to go with them, even though it broke his heart to imagine how anxious this situation would be for you. But Ethan had to make sure you were the only one safe, far away from all this violence. Yet, fate had played with him and you apparently were still able to get here anyway…

When you noticed the way Ethan’s eyes started to get foggy with tears, you were half happy to see that his body and mind were reacting, meaning that he had a chance to live. However, you also tried your best to contain your sobs at his distress… even though you actually didn’t know the real reason behind it… Ethan couldn’t care less about his own injuries, his mind was plagued with one thing only… you.

Ethan needed to get his hands on his father and sister to make them pay for what they did to you. They didn’t have the right to touch you, let alone harm you in any shape or form whatsoever, he had been very clear with them, but he also painfully knew that he could never make any decisions in his father’s plan. 

When Ethan bit his bottom lip with a frown on his face, your hand drew more soothing circles on his unharmed cheek as you spoke to him with such a soft and gentle voice, smiling to Ethan to reassure him, though your voice betrayed your emotions.

« It’s a-alright Ethan… the Ghostfaces are all dead… all of them… you’re s-safe now… I promise, no one will ever h-hurt you again… I’m here, w-with y-you… »

When you remembered that Detective Bailey was Ghostface, you didn’t want to stay here any longer in case he had accomplices in the police when they would get here. Who knows ? Maybe they will finish the job he couldn’t and kill the both of you… you and Ethan are currently easy targets, you realize as your heart quickened in fear.

Hurriedly, you helped Ethan on his feet with difficulties as your own shoulder was starting to bleed again with the force you were applying on it. You maneuvered his left arm around your shoulder to support his weight. Ethan whimpered in pain as you helped him walk, due to the pressure applied on his stabbing wounds, even though he tried his hardest to stay strong for you. You blurt out excuses with an anxious voice as you quicken your pace to go back to your place. 

« We c-can’t stay here Ethan… I’m sorry but we’ll have to be quick. I’ll take care of you when we're safe. »

Some tears escaped Ethan’s eyes in silence with all the emotions he was going through. He couldn’t care less that his father died. After all, the man never cared for him nor even loved him as a son. He was just a tool for him. Nevertheless, Ethan could not deny the thrill he always felt when he acted as Ghostface, it was more than true and he accepted it without feeling even an ounce of remorse at those he had killed… but not you. Ethan couldn’t even envision hurting you… never. 

Ethan had tried at the last moment to avert the attention of his father and sister from you, almost begging them to kill someone else in your place… that you were the only one innocent in his eyes, but it didn’t work. Just like his plan to save you from any harm. And now you were the one helping him… a killer… He was right all along, Ethan thought with a smile, as the two of you were almost home… you were definitely an angel. 

When you were finally both safe, you let out a sigh of relief as you made Ethan sit down on the floor of your room with his head resting against the edge of your bed to keep his back straight. You ran over to your bathroom where you had everything you needed to take care of Ethan : disinfectant, needle, thread, bandages…etc. Luckily, you had some notions in medicine and had the right equipment for today’s case. When you come back into your room, you notice how Ethan struggles to keep his eyes open, his mind dizzy from the blood loss as he rests his head on the side of your bed. You hurriedly sit on his lap without fully putting your weight on his legs and set down all your medical tools on the bed beside you. You worriedly look at Ethan’s face as you gently yet firmly hold his cheeks in your palms, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheekbones as you call his name to make him regain consciousness.

« Hey, Hey, Ethan, look at me… Stay with me please… I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry. » 

When Ethan’s eyes flutter open to look at you, a sigh of relief comes out of your mouth, smiling at him as your fingers now move in a softer way over his cheekbones, soothing his senses with your loving gestures. After a small tender moment between the two of you where Ethan looked up at you with puppy eyes while your hands were holding his face with so much love, one of his hand coming to cover your right one as Ethan leaned into your touch, you reluctantly removed your hand from him in order to begin taking care of him. When Ethan took note of that, his hand immediately stopped yours by softly grabbing your wrist as his gaze locked with yours. 

« No way you’re taking care of me first. », Ethan stated with difficulty. 

Ethan almost fought against the fact that you would heal him before yourself, your wounds were also gushing too much blood for his liking, as he explained to you with a worried gaze, yet you refused to let Ethan wait for your care. He would be the first one to be treated and that was your final word, you affirmed to him with a kiss on his forehead. 

Perhaps giving Ethan a kiss worked as a magic trick on him because it effectively hushed him, making Ethan’s cheeks turn slightly red at the gesture as he looked the other way and lightly bit the inside of his cheek nervously. 

Still straddling Ethan’s lap, you started taking care of him by firstly removing the black robe that Ethan was wearing, it was easy enough with how loose it had gotten. When you put the black material aside, letting your eyes linger on it for a bit, all the thoughts that you kept buried since you discovered Ethan at the theater came rushing back to you. You had to ignore these thoughts once again as you didn’t have time to think about such things nor didn’t you want to. Yes he was wearing this very particular costume but… Ethan couldn’t be… No he’s not, you convinced yourself even when you perfectly knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. But still, you trusted Ethan more than anyone else and knew that he would never hurt you, ever. And that’s all that mattered to you right now, when taking care of his wounds was the only thing your whole mind was focused on, him and only him. 

Afterwards, your hands came back on him as you held the hem of his shirt between your fingers, looking back at Ethan to silently ask for permission to also remove his shirt in order to give you better access to his wounds. Ethan shyly nodded before you slowly removed his shirt, being careful not to be too rough with your movements as to prevent aggravating his injuries. 

Your cold hands started to search for any patch of skin that seemed wounded and needed care as you let your fingers gently slide along his body, making Ethan slightly tremble under your touch as he felt way too exposed in front of you. After checking his body, your gaze saddened when you realized that Ethan had way more injuries than you would have thought, it was even surprising that he was still alive at this point or that he wasn’t complaining about the excruciating pain that he was without a doubt experiencing right now.

Ethan must have been hit on the back of the head as a bit of blood was making his hair stick there, you also noticed that he was stabbed in the mouth and that’s why it was hard for him to talk even though he managed, as small cuts could also be seen around his mouth. But the worst injuries were on his shoulders. Ethan was stabbed in the front left shoulder 5 times as blood was still gushing a bit out of the open wounds, while the TV that you saw earlier had crushed a part of his right shoulder and side of his face, where you could see lots of bruises and cuts covering his poor skin.

You sigh shakily when you feel the stress you’re putting on yourself at the amount of stitches you’re gonna have to do on Ethan, surely more stitches than you ever did in your entire life combined. When Ethan noticed the way your hands started shaking a bit, he instinctively intertwined his fingers with yours, knowing full well how it always appeased your mind. And he’s right, Ethan always is when it’s about you, as your racing mind slows down at the feeling of Ethan’s hand, helping you decide to only treat his most urgent wounds first as you make priorities in your mind.

You’ll disinfect all his wounds but clean even more the cuts around his mouth to prevent any infections, do stitches on all of his open wounds of his left and right shoulder but also on the deeper cuts Ethan got on the right side of his face that worries you a little, and cover his shoulders with bandages to help them heal faster. 

Ethan tried his best to be strong while you took care of him, he wanted to act tough in front of you, to make you feel proud of him that he wasn’t complaining, but he still couldn’t control everything as the little grunts and whimpers of pain Ethan let out were breaking your heart in little pieces. His jaw was tightly clenched as his eyes were filled with tears of pain that rolled over his face from time to time.

You were the only thing that was helping him get through this as Ethan noticed how gentle you were with him, while he tried his best to keep his eyes open in order to engrave all the little details in his memory. Like your face that was focusing on your task, a frown appearing on it when you were putting all your attention on a particular stitch. Or the way your hands controlled themselves from trembling even though it was hard for you at this moment, Ethan noticed with dreamy eyes. He also remarked the way your chest was heaving up and down at a fast pace, as Ethan’s hands were grabbing your thighs during the entire time. His fingers ever so gently danced across your skin as his thumbs occasionally rubbed over your thighs with soothing circles absentmindedly. His hands never left you as your position on his lap was making it easy for him to access your thighs, the comforting and loving caresses soothing you and Ethan at the same time.

When it was your turn to take care of your own wounds in front of Ethan, still in the same comfortable position, he was now the one to bring you the reassurance and love you desperately craved, in order to make this painful moment go by as quickly as he could. Ethan held your hand when he could and when it wasn’t possible with your movements, he gently let his hand rest on the unharmed side of your waist, drawing reassuring and affectionate caresses on your skin as Ethan looked at you with saddened but soft eyes, reminding you that he was here for you even though he couldn’t do much at the moment.

After you were both patched up, your hands naturally returned to cup Ethan’s face lovingly, caressing the bruised and stitched side of his skin softly as you covered his entire face in kisses. Ethan automatically did the exact same thing to you as his bigger hands went to cup your jaw protectively, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks tenderly as he made you bend down a little to press kisses on your nose, forehead, cheeks and corner of your mouth. You were both bringing the other one the reassuring presence you needed from each other and the love that you both should have fully shared much earlier if you two weren’t the most bashful people on earth. 

Now fully sitting on Ethan’s lap as exhaustion took over you, Ethan caressed in a feather light touch your now stitched up wounds, a touch that you almost could not feel with how gentle and careful he was. Ethan looked at your injuries with anger, sadness and frustration that he wasn’t there to protect you and prevent them from happening.

Ethan quietly sobbed at that as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, careful not to touch your stitches as he hoarsely muttered excuses with a muffled and trembling voice, « I’m s-sorry… so s-sorry, baby… »

You didn’t understand why he would say that… well not completely. He didn’t have anything to do with your wounds and he would never hurt you in any shape or form. Seeing your sweet Ethan sob in your arms was shattering your soul as you just wanted to hold him closer to your heart, softly enough as to not aggravate his injuries. 

You both hugged each other during a moment that felt out of time, Ethan firmly clinging to your body, as you calmly caressed his hair while massaging his scalp soothingly. Ethan’s figure being much larger than you, it was like you were hiding in a cocoon where nothing could harm you anymore, as you felt at peace in his protective arms.

Ethan broke the hug at one point to look at you and got closer to your face as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips that you mirrored almost instantly. Ethan giggled between kisses as you were both eagerly pressing as many kisses as possible to the other’s mouth. 

With your mouth still lingering on his, you reassured him with a beautiful smile that Ethan cherished, as he peacefully listened to the words that you whispered against his lips.

« Together, everything will be okay… I know I’ll be safe with you Ethan. And… you’ll always have me, b-because… I care for you more than you could ever imagine. »

Ethan’s gaze widened with affection at your honest declaration as his eyes looked down at your lips, pressing his mouth to yours as he deepened the kiss by cupping your cheeks, not wanting to let you go too far from him. After breaking the kiss, Ethan bashfully intertwined his fingers with yours as he looked down to observe with attention the way he was fidgeting with your hand.

« Can I say that I love you ? », he asked while looking back into your eyes. Ethan felt awkward while saying that, it was the first time for him after all. Though, the pretty boy quickly changed his mind when he felt your lips whisper close to his ear how much you loved him back, making Ethan smile in the most adorable way possible. 

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

[necros-writing-stuff]

Bailey, but he's your toxic ex who won't let you get away.

CW for mentions of coercive sex work, trafficking (reader not involved in either of these first two), kidnapping, drugging, non-descriptive non-con and emotional/mental abuse. Gn reader.

You found out what he did. You found out about the exploitation, the trafficking, the gun he keeps tucked away under the smart clothes he wears. And it was all going so well.

Sure, he was distant. He kept a coy smile that should have seemed arrogant but you read it as playful instead. He cooked for you, shirtless in your kitchen bright and early with his tattoos vibrant in the morning sun. He took you to places that had an air of class about them, even if they didn't cost all that much. He always made sure to wear protection, always came to you clean and willing.

You'd thought him a kind man. A good man who hadn't pinned anyone down because his job kept him so so busy. How could he settle, have a family when he's busy ensuring those without grow up safe and sound?

The rumours first got to you that day at the park. Those two young women behind the public bathroom, one comforting the other as she wept because the man she'd just blew hadn't given her enough money. She was going to be sold. You swore you'd seen her somewhere.

A man next. Still unable to grow facial hair properly, still fresh of face apart from the bruises and busted lip as he counted money in an alleyway. Two people walked out, satisfaction shining through. The young man had stains on his pants you didn't want to think about.

More. More and more often you'd see familiar faces in seedy places, unable to ascertain who they were. Kids of people you went to school with? Nieces, nephews? Your answer came the next time Bailey parked outside of the orphanage. A quick trip to grab a forgotten item before a date. A trip long enough to see some of those faces mulling around in the courtyard.

The date had been quiet, the thoughts blunting around your head as you tried to muster the courage to speak. Desert came before you could get there, but you did. You pushed it out despite the ice in your veins.

A coy smile, it had been. A false forlon smile now as he blames a man names Briar. Then a shake before he adds on that it's a shame. A real shame that they fall into those lifestyles - he wishes he could do more for them, but his good reputation can only go so far in getting them jobs in such a desolate town.

You've known him long enough to see a lie. You walk home that night with tears streaming down your face, you leave him to pay with a warning to never come near you again.

The police didn't listen. You'd stood at that reception, ringing your hands and begging to see an officer for hours until you heard a pair of young beat cops laughing behind a door over the dumb cunt who thinks they don't know.

What of the mayor, then? Surely, surely someone in this town has to be able to stop it all?

Bailey's car is parked outside the town hall when you go to see Mayor Quinn. He comes down the steps laughing, clapping his hand onto the mayor's shoulder as they work their way down to their car. The way they flinch, the cringe of a smile, has you crying on your way home again. You have to move. If nothing else you have to move, maybe report something at another district and hope they at least look.

You never get a chance. Men are in your apartment when you return, large men with rope and a bag to place over your head. Not a single neighbour comes when you scream. Not one. Not even the old man with kindness crinkling in his eyes who offers you apples from his allotment when the season passes.

The place you wake up in is foreign to your senses, something heady in the air causing your head to tilt and your mind to lean the other way. Sitting up is difficult never mind standing, your disorientation making it take a tragically long time to recognise the feeling of being watched. Then to spot him, in the corner, wearing a mask.

Bailey had seemed a kind man. He became the Devil himself when he slithered from his corner, belt clinking as it came undone and hands burning as they gripped your skin. He became a nightmare in human form as his once-suave words spit venom and blame at your sluggish form. If only you'd stayed blind. If only you'd been stupid. And then the whisper of a promise when he'd finished for the night, cum drying on your thighs.

A promise that he won't let it happen again.

It has been seven months since he put you here, he tells you one day. The narcotic vapour has long since been cleared from your routine, but the disorientation has never left. You are sober, but shadows still seem to cling to Bailey's limbs like an eldritch god. Your head is clear, but it's never been more muddled with his threats promises snaking through all of the cracks he put there.

You still don't know what it is.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (18) - State of my head

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 5.3k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-The only way I'm leavin' is dead That's the state of my, state of my, state of my head-

You read about it a few times, just out of curiosity, just to explain the feeling you'd occasionally get when you completely relaxed, and everything came easy and naturally. That feeling when you just entered the flow, and you didn't think about anything. Maybe it was the survival instinct kicking you into it, but you just began moving as the knife approached you from the left. It all seemed so slow to you in that moment, and your body felt weightless, as if you didn’t have to think, as if you only had to give in and move as you felt was right.

You stepped back, letting Quinn's hand go past your head before you grabbed and twisted her wrist. The knife fell into your hand, and you just slashed through her throat. The blood gushed from her throat, and you saw life fading from her eyes before she even had the time to properly process what happened. In your daze it just registered as information, barely evoking any feeling within you. She tried to kill Tara, and everyone else you loved, this was just the response.

You lifted her body up just as Bailey raised his gun and began firing. Four shots later he stopped shooting and stepped back, looking horrified as you just tossed Quinn's body to the side.

You turned your attention to Thomas and saw him shaking his head with a smirk on his face. "Come on then, let's leave the families to their own conflict," he backed away toward the doors leading to the room you and Tara were in before all the while motioning for you to follow him.

"Y/N," Tara's worried voice reached you.

You didn't look at her. You didn't take your eyes off Thomas for a single moment. Thomas killed Susan. Getting Thomas away from Tara was the best option. Bailey was shaken, Ethan was injured, they’d be easy to deal with. "Don't interfere or come after me. This is my battle," and then you took off, running after the former MMA fighter.

You ran into the room and couldn't see him anywhere. You still ducked, avoiding a high kick from behind just in time and spinning around to try and slam an uppercut into his jaw.

Thomas just barely regained his footing and leaned his head back, avoiding the punch, though a quick but a bit weaker hook kick to the guts made him stumble back. The abrupt move cost him his balance and you elbowed him on the cheek with your other arm. Taking the opportunity, you pulled him into a clinch and slammed your fist into his face repeatedly. After the fourth punch connected, he managed to put his forearms up to try and guard his face, but you switched to kneeing him in the guts, twice. His knees buckled and you smashed a haymaker into the side of his head.

Thomas stumbled to the side, eventually dropping to his knees as you went after him and dropped a kick right on his back. He grunted, scrambling to his feet, and avoiding a kick to the side of the head by less than an inch. “Damn, you’re strong,” gasping for air he ran up the stairs.

You didn't run, feeling no need to rush this when he was already feeling the strikes you landed. You made your way up the stairs when he threw a chair at you. You just caught it and brought it down on top of him when he tried to attack you, probably thinking you'd dodge and leave yourself more open for an attack that could send you down the stairs. The old chair shattered, and the splinters made tiny cuts on his head and shoulders.

You watched the tiny splinters and pieces of wood falling down to the dusty floor and then looked up. When your eyes met his you could see fear within them. Good. You raised your knee up, connecting it with his jaw, he stumbled back, scrambling back to his feet. He spat a tooth out and began running away once again. He reached some ladder and began climbing up. You followed him and realized he brought you to the roof. For a moment you took your surroundings in. The inside of the theatre wasn't in the greatest condition, but the roof was way worse. There were rusty rebars sticking all over the roof and there was no fence or anything that would keep someone from falling.

You tilted your head to the side when he pulled out the knife.

"Do you want to know why I'm doing this?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"Don't care," you replied evenly, not showing any signs of emotion to him at the moment. You looked at ease as you walked up to him, only to abruptly close the distance between you and land two quick hits to his face. Thomas dropped down, trying to grab your leg and bring you down, but you jumped back, using the same tactic he used in the bodega to gain advantage. You sidestepped him and kicked him guts, even lifting him off the ground for a moment.

He coughed as he came back down and his eyes widened as you grabbed his collar and slammed him into the roof, thus knocking the wind out of his lungs. He managed to bring his arms up, shielding his face as you kept punching his forearms to break his guard. Punch after punch landed and finally you made him drop his guard. He took a hit to the face, just barely staying conscious as the back of his head collided with the concrete under him. Desperately, he moved his head to the side, evading the second punch. And in that same desperation he tried to stab you in the throat, but you easily caught his wrist.

He kept pushing though, and while you had the upper hand you still chose to step back from him. With the knife between you two you couldn’t properly hit him.

He stumbled to his feet, gasping for air and spitting out blood. Out of the blue, he smirked and rushed at you, you didn't have any time to react in any other way but to try and go for his neck, but the moment he lifted you off the ground and pushed you a couple of feet back you screamed. He let you go and took several steps back, breathing heavily as you gasped for air.

You looked down, seeing a rusty rebar dripping with blood coming out of you, just beneath your chest. It went right through you, and you were barely able to reach the ground with your feet to keep it from messing you up even more.

"You are about to die anyway, and you did give me quite a thrill of battle just now, hell, you’re a better fighter than me, so let me tell you a secret," Thomas approached and stabbed the knife into the right side of your chest. He left it there as you just stood there, unable to even muster the energy to move due to the rebar piercing through you. "You were supposed to die right after your fight with Anya, but Bailey offered me lots of money to help him, so you got to live for almost another year."

He pressed against the rebar, forcing a blood-curdling scream out of you as you choked on the blood filling your lung.

"I became a bit of a hitman about five years ago, you know?” it was the first time you heard about it, it wasn’t like a background check on him would just reveal it. “And someone hired me to kill you. Someone who knew all about you and Zack, as well as Susan. Trust me, the fact that you are his half-sister makes this even better, Y/N. You can die knowing you'll be my favorite kill for a long, long time, maybe even for as long as I live," he twisted the rebar and slowly began pulling. "I have to admit though, I've been hired to kill someone's parent before, but I've never been hired by parents to kill their only child. They couldn’t let their reputation be tarnished by their own daughter being caught up in barbaric conflicts," he yanked the broken rebar out of your body, and you dropped down on your side, a pool of blood already forming beneath you.

Your own parents, huh? Somehow you weren’t too surprised. It didn’t hurt you, that relationship has been dead for years now. You were no more than strangers now, but it pissed you off that they still tried to interfere in your life. Bastards… You just felt sorry, because you didn’t have any energy left, they would win, they would get what they wanted.

You were on the verge of losing consciousness as you stared at the rebar that was tossed to the side. He knelt down next to you and pulled the knife out of your chest. "Sorry, I have to make this look as Ghostface-like as possible," you weren't even sure where he was stabbing you, but you felt the cold steel entering your body several times before your fingers clenched around the blood-soaked rebar. You couldn’t leave Tara, not like this, not when the two of you had those fights, not until you made things with her right, then you could succumb to your wounds if there was no way to survive, but you needed to make things right, and you needed to know she was alive. So, pushing through your limits, you stabbed Thomas through the neck. He stumbled back, but he was still holding onto you, so he somehow pulled you to your feet and the two of you stumbled to the right, plummeting from the roof to the pavement below.

You landed on top of him, but the impact still shook you to your core. Everything hurt, your vision was fading, you felt your heart struggling to keep you alive, it felt like your life was flashing in front of your eyes, the snippets of your time with Zack, your first lessons, meeting Susan, carrying Tara, watching movies with Tara, laughing with her, winning the title, kissing Tara, that and a lot more flashed in front of your eyes.

You gasped, the very breath you took making your lungs feel like they were on fire. You had to make sure he was dead, that he couldn’t go after Tara, now or later.

With what little consciousness you had left you saw the knife Thomas dropped next to you two. You fell on top of him, just barely cushioning your fall and letting you stay conscious, but he wasn’t that lucky. You grabbed the knife by the blade and just dropped your arm, hoping it would pierce his throat. You were vaguely aware of some resistance, so you pushed your left palm against the butt of the knife and felt a couple of drops of warm liquid hit your face. You dropped to the side, still holding the knife, and thus twisting it in his throat. If he somehow survived rebar to the neck and the fall you were sure this killed him.

You tried to get up, but your body wouldn't move. The image of Tara’s face came to your mind, but not even that could push you any further and the darkness consumed your consciousness.

~X~

Tara sat with Sam on the stairs in front of the mannequins. She killed Ethan, though he managed to stab her in the stomach. And she got shot in her left arm. As the adrenaline in her body faded away and the pain began being more noticeable she remembered what you said, well, what you implied, that Sam wasn’t as capable as you were of protecting Tara. She didn’t agree with that, but she was fairly sure this wasn’t helping her arguments. Even though it really was true that Tara was safest when she was with you. Speaking of Sam, she killed Bailey and was actually pretty much unharmed. Tara was so relieved Sam was okay, even if her own wound was hurting her like hell, but more importantly, something didn't feel right.

"Y/N is taking too long," she stood up, unable to shake off a bad feeling she had. She should have ignored you; she should have gone after you the moment she knew Sam was fine. You'd be fine though. You were much stronger than her or Sam. You'd come back through that door, and you'd be fine, and you'd pick her up and hold her because you'd all make it out of this against all odds. And she’d do everything in her power to help you, to comfort you and be there for you as you grieved. Fuck, you lost Susan, and Tara was devastated by that, angry that Thomas would go after her, but you would take it way worse. She remembered that time you almost called Susan mom, and Tara felt her heart breaking, knowing you now lost someone that important to you.

She and Sam raised their heads when Danny ran in with half a dozen police officers and paramedics.

"Tara! Get outside right now, it's Y/N!" her heart nearly stopped when she realized he had blood on his shirt and hands.

Tara ran past him, not caring if her wounds would start bleeding again, she rushed outside and saw an ambulance surrounded by pure chaos. Between all the paramedics she saw blood dripping to the floor of the van.

"The bleeding won't stop! We're losing her!" it couldn’t be you.

It was you.

You were stronger than this.

You weren’t.

This wasn’t happening.

This was happening. And right in front of her, and Tara had no idea how she didn't collapse right then and there as she stumbled forward and reached the van.

"Stay back, miss!" one of the paramedics warned her.

Tara didn't understand what they were telling her. She couldn’t comprehend what was happening in front of her eyes. This wasn’t true, this was… She watched you, your clothes soaked with blood, she watched the blood dripping down. "Y/N? Baby?" this couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare. She must have fallen asleep and was having the worst nightmare of her life. "Baby, please," she cried out weakly, reaching in to grab your hand.

You were cold and still. You didn't react to her touch.

She was losing you right in front of her eyes, and the sudden weakness in her body and a paramedic pushing her away made her drop your hand. All she could see was your hand, covered in blood. “Y/N,” she called out your name, feeling as if you were disappearing right in front of her eyes, as if you were going away from her.

"Her pulse is getting weaker!" someone yelled and all of a sudden all Tara could hear was intense buzzing, all she could feel was the blood, your blood, sticking to her hands, all she could see was dark red liquid and your unmoving hand, your body hidden behind the paramedics trying to save your life.

“Y/N!” she cried out, gasping for air, but not caring for a moment as her lungs struggled for oxygen. “Y/N!” you had to wake up, you had to open your eyes, to move, to give her any sign that you were going to be fine. “Don’t! Please wake up!” she began coughing, her body convulsing as she went into shock, just barely clutching onto the ambulance doors, the closest she could get to you. “Please don’t leave me, please, Y/N, please don’t,” she cried and screamed, and tried to shake off whoever was pulling her away from the ambulance, away from you. "Let go of me!" she screamed, breaking free just as the ambulance closed and drove off and Tara just dropped to her knees as some paramedic began checking on her.

It didn’t matter what was happening to her. It didn't matter how she was. They were taking you away from her! She looked to her side when Sam dropped to her knees next to her, Sam was crying. "They found a rusty rebar near her, it went through her."

Too much. It was too much.

“Tara!” Sam was yelling her name, but it didn’t matter, none of this mattered.

Everything just went black, and she fell into Sam’s arms.

She was losing you.

~X~

When Tara woke up, she was in the hospital, surrounded by Sam, Chad, Mindy, and Danny. She immediately sat up and tried to get up, but Sam stopped her. "Y/N?" she needed to know, her eyes frantically searching their faces for any sign or reaction to your name.

"She's alive!" Sam quickly reassured her, and Tara felt like she could breathe again, even if she began crying from relief.

You were alive, you survived, you didn’t leave her alone. She looked down at her hands as Sam hugged her tightly. They were no longer stained by blood, but she still felt as if they were covered with your blood, and her hands trembled as she remembered that sensation. She couldn’t stop the tears falling from her eyes at the mere thought that she nearly lost you. That maybe mere minutes saved your life.

"I need to go and see her," she tried to get up, but Sam was still holding her down and Tara just now realized Sam was crying as well. You were alive, so why was Sam crying? Sure, you were probably still unconscious, much like she was after Amber first attacked her, but you’d be fine, you’d wake up in a couple of hours, maybe half a day, even a day, but you’d be fine. You’d wake up, your wounds would heal and you’d go home.

"She's in a coma, Tara, she lost too much blood, and they don't know if she'll wake up," Sam's voice cracked as she said that.

Tara just felt like her whole world fell apart all over again.

“Let me go, I need to see her,” she whispered, fearing that she would shatter if she didn’t see you, even comatose. Anything would be fine as long as she could see you were alive.

Sam sighed, but relented and took her to your room. Tara nearly dropped to her knees; she would have if Sam wasn’t there to catch her. You… you were just lying there, the heart rate monitor beeping was the only proof you were still alive.

“What happened to her?” Tara had to know, she needed answers as she managed to drag her body to your bed and take a hold of your hand. It wasn’t as cold as it was before, but she still sobbed when you didn’t respond.

“A rusty rebar went through her, from the small of her back to just below her chest, it’s a miracle nothing vital was hit. Thomas stabbed her five times, and then she fell from the roof with him,” Sam was the one to tell her.

Tara just remained silent as she sat down on the very edge of your bed and touched your cheek. “It’s my fault,” she eventually said.

“Tara, no, you can’t think like that,” Mindy immediately disagreed.

“Mindy’s right, you didn’t hurt Y/N, Ghostface did,” Chad added, but Tara just shook her head.

“I came up with the plan. Going to the theatre was my idea,” no one could make her change her mind, as far as she was concerned this was on her and no one else. Especially since you only went along with it only to keep her safe. If she made a better choice, if she was more patient, if maybe she waited a bit longer, or if she just plain and simple didn’t argue with you so much, further stressing you and making you more tired, than this wouldn’t have happened. “I don’t deserve her, and I’m fine with that, as long as she’s alive and wakes up, I’m fine with anything,” because she’s been doing everything wrong. She’s accused you of being possessive, she made you worry, she nearly got you killed again, and… what Thomas said, she had no right to argue against that.

So, if you woke up and you decided you never wanted to see her again, Tara would be fine with that. As long as you woke up, as long as she knew you were alive and happy, Tara would not complain once. She would only want, if you allowed her to, to take care of you until you recover, and nothing more, that would be all she would ask for.

~X~

Two days later you were still in a coma, with no signs of waking up any time soon. Tara didn't even have any energy left to cry, she just sat by your side, afraid to leave you even for a second. What if you woke up and she wasn't there? What if something went wrong and she wasn't there. If she allowed even that then you really might as well just tell her to get lost.

"Please, wake up," she whispered, she needed you to wake up, to say anything, or even to just look at her. Anything would be fine. She felt cold and alone, and she did the only thing she was used to doing when she felt like that. She reached out for you, she lay down on the bed, curling into your side while taking extra care not to touch any of the wounds you had. She was barely touching you, but just for a moment she felt warm and safe again. It was a fleeting moment of happiness, though.

You didn't touch her. You didn't hold her. You didn't move. You couldn't do any of that and Tara began shaking, the cold seeping into her bones as tears she didn't even know she had left soaked the sleeve of your gown.

Sobs and loud cries wrecked her throat and her whole body, and even when Sam came in to comfort her, frantically trying to make up for the lack of your warmth, Tara still kept crying. Yet, even with her screams you didn't react.

~X~

On the sixth day, only Sam came by, since Chad and Mindy could no longer delay going back home and had to get ready to leave. Tara was still at the hospital 24/7. She would read to you, talk to you, tell you repeatedly how much she missed and how much she loved you, she would just as often apologize to you, for plenty of things, and then promise you could do whatever you wanted, just as long as you’d wake up. You still didn't wake up.

On the tenth day, not even Sam could come, she had to cover two shifts at work. Tara stayed, she stayed, this time telling you about the future she imagined, the future in which you were awake, your future, but without her as she didn’t want to dream of the future you two shared. She didn’t dare dream of that, she had no right to it in her mind. You’d make a full recovery, finish college, and start your own business, and you’d have plenty of time to do what you love. She imagined a different life, one without Ghostface in it, a life she was spending with you and Sam and all the people she loved without trauma and fear of letting someone new in. She cried that day, overwhelmed by what could have been and what could be. Overwhelmed because you couldn’t respond, you couldn’t tell her if you wanted that exact future as well, or if you’d rather create that future somewhere else, or with someone else, as long as you woke up that would be enough for Tara. You still didn’t wake up.

On the twelfth day, Sam tried to get her to leave your side. At least for a little bit. To take a walk, get some fresh air. Tara did walk, she walked around your room. She'd open the windows to keep the air fresh for you when you woke up. Tara knew what Sam wanted to tell her; Tara knew Sam was losing hope that you'd wake up. But Tara wasn’t losing hope. You’d wake up. You’d come back to her, like you always did, and you’d recover and that alone would make Tara happy for the rest of her life. You didn't wake up that day either.

On the sixteenth day, close to midnight, Tara once again crawled into the bed next to you. For the first time since the second day. Once again, she felt the same freezing cold, she could barely breathe, she was wheezing and coughing next to you, crying her heart out after holding back the tears for the past six days. She needed her inhaler, but she didn't want to move from you, she needed to feel you next to her more than she needed air. And then her eyes widened, her breathing stopped, and her body stilled completely as the tears fell down her face freely. She felt it. The softest touch on her back. She looked at your face and saw you blinking slowly.

Tara just watched you, going as far as to forget how to breathe. You smiled softly, taking what little oxygen she had left away. You raised your hand, gently tapping her back. She realized you were telling her to breathe. So, she took a breath and continued breathing as she began crying once again, this time too happy to stop her tears.

"I love you, Y/N," she said as softly as she possibly could and pressed a kiss on your cheek. Regardless of what you would decide that would never change, she’d love you for the rest of her life.

She felt safe and warm once again, and you, as difficult as it must have been, wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, silently giving her the answer.

~X~

Susan was killed by Thomas, probably brutally to match the Ghostface style. The woman that was more of a mother to you than your own mother ever was got killed because she was related to you and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

With your head now cooled from the adrenaline and flow state and everything else that made you temporarily push that thought aside, all you were left with was grief. You couldn’t even attend her funeral, as it over and done by now. You weren’t sure if you would have went even if you were awake, you probably couldn’t face the fact that she really was gone, or that just being connected to you got her killed.

You couldn’t bring her back, you barely took your revenge, if it could even be referred to as a revenge. And so, you pushed through the grief and decided to focus on what you had left before the weight of the loss could make you crumble.

You groaned as you sat up, and moved back so you could lean back on the raised headrest, the muscle atrophy was setting in, and the injuries you suffered weren’t helping, even if everything was for the most part healed by now. It’s been a few hours since you woke up and everything still felt surreal. At least you could speak properly now that you drank some water.

Tara looked like she wanted to jump to her feet to help you, but she was restraining herself. “Love?” she flinched at the word, and you furrowed your eyebrows at her reaction.

“It’s my fault, I’m sorry,” she said as she bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut.

For a few moments you didn’t understand what she meant, but then it came back to you. Going to the theatre was Tara’s idea, and if you had strength to spare you would have facepalmed. “Tara,” you groaned, leaning your head back. “Stop it,” you told her so firmly she had to look at you.

“But-“ she tried, but you shook your head and patted the spot next to you.

“Come here, Love,” you raised your arm, waiting for her to sit next to you so you could cuddle for a bit. “Tara, come on,” you encouraged her when she didn’t move. “I can’t keep my arm up for much longer,” you tried to half-joke so she could finally move.

And she did, she joined you on the bed and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“It’s not your fault lunatics are after us,” you kissed the top of her head. “You thought that was the best decision, and you decided to act. Who knows? Maybe this was the best possible outcome,” you told her, because while your recovery would suck, you were alive, and there was no way to guarantee it in some other hypothetical scenario.

Tara tightened her hold on you, and you looked down to see her looking at your lips.

“Afraid to kiss me?” you teased, poking her side a bit.

“Do you want me to?” she asked, uncertainty clearly showing in her eyes.

“I love you, Tara,” you said, definitively, with no hesitation and with as much conviction as you possibly could, and it was as if she understood something else, as if she got an answer to another question plaguing her mind, as she pressed her lips against yours.

~X~

You had to stay in bed even after you were released from the hospital. You didn’t have much strength left and until your wounds fully healed you couldn’t train either. But, you were alive and as long as you were alive any physical damage you suffered could be recovered from. You wanted to stay in a hotel, but Gale demanded that you, Tara and Sam stay in her apartment, it was big enough, and Tara and Sam coming probably saved her life. Hell, Sam’s been there for several weeks now.

So, here you were, lying in one of Gale’s spare bedrooms and catching up on some reading because watching a movie without Tara just felt wrong. You lowered the book as Tara came in, tray filled with food in her hands as you sat up in the bed. “That looks amazing,” you said, and it did look amazing, Tara made you an omelet, a fruit salad and crescent rolls, and from the looks of it she used your recipes.

“I learnt from a pro,” she kissed you gently and placed the tray on your lap before sitting down next to you. She leaned her forehead on your shoulder and sighed contently.

“Did you eat?” you asked before bringing the first bite of the omelet to your mouth.

“I’ll eat something later,” she hummed only for you to nudge her lightly with your elbow.

“None of that, open up,” you scolded her and brought a crescent roll to her lips. The two of you got into a bit of a staring contest, until Tara finally relented and bit off a part of the pastry. “Thank you,” you grinned and though Tara rolled her eyes she smiled and hugged you as tightly as your injuries allowed.

“Thank you for surviving,” she told you softly, her voice trembling slightly.

“Thank you for staying by my side,” you replied.

A/N: Big thanks to Anon who indirectly gave me a bit of an epiphany for my nickname problem.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[httplilyyy]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 || 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: everything must come to an end

warnings: descriptions of violence, murder, gore, blood (lots of it), multiple character deaths, knives, guns, swearing, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

word count: 4.5k

a/n: the final part for ‘new york, new rules’! I hope you’ve liked this little series as much as I have enjoyed writing it :)

scream masterlist | prev. part | epilogue

007. XIII - crazy lixx 

‘time to die!’

Standing with your feet rooted to the floor, you watched as Sidney made herself known to everyone in the room. 

“I had a feeling you could use my help.” Sidney said, walking over to you, ignoring everyone else. 

“You can’t be here-”

“You just won’t die, will you!?” Jill yelled, cutting you off.

“I could say the same about you.” Sidney rebutted, turning to the younger woman. 

“Well, shit.” Bailey chuckled looking between you and Sidney. “Look who decided to show up.”

“Look,” Sidney sighed, clearly tired after doing this multiple times before, “I don’t know who the fuck you are and nor do I care, so why dont you just leave us be.”

“Oh, you know I can't do that.” Bailey tutted, shaking his head.

“You’ll slip.” Sidney shrugged, looking back at Jill. “They always do.”

“You just got lucky.” Jill snapped and at the same time Ethan lurched forward, his knife stabbing Sam just above her collar bone.

Tara took a hold on Sam's hand, pulling her sister away from Ethan. The boy held a large smile on his face as he followed after the two.

“Now, it wasn’t until I saw the photograph of what you’d done to him that I knew you had to fucking die!” Bailey shouted out from the top of his lungs, watching as Ethan and Quinn surrounded Tara and Sam.

Ethan felt his blood pump faster as Sam and Tara swung their bricks over at him whenever he got too close. Intense thrill coursed through his veins as he playfully swung the knife over at them, purposely missing every single time.

"You had to be punished, along with anyone else who stands in our way." Bailey's loud voice continued to echo throughout the theatre, a scowl on his face as he glared at the two.

Sam's eyes darkened as she glanced up to meet Quinn's eyes, the thoughts running behind them being anything but pure. Quinn noticed the change almost immediately, and she tucked her knife under her chin, lightly placing it against her skin as she tilted her head up. 

"There she is." Quinn whispered, closing some of the distance between them. "There's the fucking killer.”

"Real great parenting job by the way." Tara interjected, realising that their entire family had gone insane.

"Shut your whore fucking mouth!" Quinn screamed, shoving the shorter girl with a hard push, along with Sam who was standing right beside her.

"Have I been the perfect dad? No. Have I maybe over indulged Richie's love of these little movies? Yeah, maybe." Bailey told them, tears on the brink of releasing as his voice cracked slightly. "For me they're just a little dark, but Richie really loved them. He even made a few of his own." 

Everyone’s gaze turned to face the large curtain that was showcasing one of Richie's films. Unknowingly, you felt a scowl form its way onto your face, scoffing at how someone would want to recreate this nightmare.

"Did you- did you know?" Bailey began, walking over to the stage and climbing up the few stairs to get on top of the stage so he could see the screen more clearly. "There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."

Ethan's mouth twitched, the muscle in his jaw tightened as he glanced away from his father. Bailey brought out his hands to showcase the entire room as he told them, "Which is why I helped him build this collection."

"This was all his?" Sam questioned, looking around her.

“What a fucking creep.” You muttered, glancing at Bailey before turning to look at Jill, the older woman watching Bailey with excitement. 

"Yes, he's a very passionate collector, and he inspired others." Bailey gloated, glancing around the room at all the multiple different objects that he had given his son, remembering faintly the way his face lit up whenever he brought him something new. "Oh, we had to kill those two wannabe film students because, well, we had to kill you first, Sam."

"I put the theatre in their name, and then good old Detective Bailey would have just stumbled on it, but I didn't have to because my golly, that Gale Weathers is one hell of a journalist."

At the mention of Gale’s name you felt your body stiffen, a dark gaze swimming beneath your eyes, and it wouldn't take long for any of them to realise it if they simply turned around to look at you. 

"I built a tribute to my son, which is why this is where you have to die, Sam." Bailey's voice thickened, his facial expression blank. "Surrounded by all the things he loved the most."

"What happens next?" Sam asked frantically, glancing around at each of them to get a little more insight on their thought process. "When after you're done with us, what? You just disappear?"

"No, I gotta hurry over to the hospital and make sure Mindy and Gale don't pull through." Bailey scoffed as he walked down the small steps to get off the stage and pulled his gun right at the older girl. "Because everybody dies, Sam! Everyone who had anything to do with the death of my son, suffers and dies!"

"Fuck yeah, they do!" Quinn agreed.

"Yeah!" Ethan shouted, nodding his head along to his fathers words.

"Now put on the mask." Bailey ordered, his words seething through his teeth as Sam glanced down to the floor where the ghostface mask was lying.

"He was," Sam whispered, breathing heavily as she shook her head lightly, "so pathetic."

"Huh?" Bailey's mouth hung open as he tilted his head in disbelief. "Th- that's not true."

"Yeah, your son," Sam continued, eyes holding no regret for the words she was throwing out breathlessly. "He was a man baby who made his girlfriend do all the killing."

“He was a strong feral young man.” Bailey proclaimed, glaring at Sam.

“He was a limp dick, little fuck, who cried before I slit his throat.” Sam said, her eyes hardening as she narrowed them down on Bailey. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Quinn screamed, finally losing control of her anger and running over to Sam with her knife, but Tara was already prepared for her little outburst, and she swung her brick right towards Quinn's jaw, throwing it into her face with full force and watching as a couple of her teeth were knocked out of her mouth as she fell down to the floor.

At that exact moment, Kirby appeared with her gun and shot a couple of bullets over towards Bailey. You ducked down and covered Sidney as you watched Ethan stab Kirby before Sam smacked a brick over his head. 

The older Carpenter took the knife from Kirby and stabbed Ethan repeatedly, the boy groaning in pain as he fell back.

"Sam." Tara called out, glancing back at her sister. “Come on.”

You got up and faced Jill, the woman looking at you menacingly. Sidney stood at your side, her gaze hardening on her cousin. 

Jill flipped the knife in her hand, a grin on her face told you that she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

“You really want to do this?” You questioned, getting into a fighting stance.

“You know I do.” Jill replied, her grip tightening on the knife.

“Then let's dance” You said, tilting your head and creating a ‘come here’ motion with your hand.

Jill ran towards you and Sidney, swinging her arm haphazardly, hoping to cut you with the knife in her hand. 

You coordinated your punches with Sidney and you eventually landed a heavy punch to Jill’s ribs, sending the woman back, reeling in pain. 

It didn’t take long for Jill to recover and she was soon running back towards you. Sidney went to punch Jill in the face but she dodged the attack and sent the older woman to the floor with a harsh shove.

Having the wind knocked out of her, Sidney stayed on the floor watching as Jill charged towards you, stabbing her knife towards your face. You blocked it and held her wrists back but got distracted when you heard a gunshot ring out followed by a scream.

You looked to your right and saw Tara grasping onto Sam’s hand as she hung over the edge of the balcony. The older Carpenter held Tara’s hand with all her might but due to the cut on her arm, blood dripped down making Tara slip from her hold. 

“Tara!” You shouted, momentarily distracted and Jill added more pressure to her knife causing it to slip through your hold and into your shoulder. “Fuck!”

Jill then used all her weight to push you down and the pin you to the floor. She straddled your waist and pulled the knife from your shoulder, trying to stab you in the face once again. 

Using all your force, you kept the knife away from your head. Sweat and blood ran down your face, some of it made its way into your eyes, making it hard for you to see. 

“Jill, stop.” You grunted, feeling the tip of the knife make its way closer to your face. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do this?” Jill repeated sarcastically. “I can finally get my revenge and become the famous final girl.”

“Stop with this final girl bullshit! It’s never going to happen!” 

“And what does it matter to you anyway, y/n? You won’t even be here to see it come true.”

“You forgot one thing, Jill.” You said, breathlessly, your arms getting tired. 

“And what’s that?” Jill hissed, grinning down at you widely.

“Never turn you back on Sidney Prescott!”

Sidney came up from behind Jill, stabbing a knife of her own in the younger woman's back. Jill let out a scream, her back arching in pain and she let go of the knife in her hand.

“C’mon, sis,” you sighed, wiping the sweat from your forehead as your hand reached for Jill’s knife, your fingers grasped around it and you plunged it into her side, just under her ribs. “you should know by now, never fuck with the original.”

“How sentimental.” Jill laughed through gritted teeth, groaning in pain as you pushed the knife in deeper with a hardened glare.

“It’s only a taste of your own medicine.” You said, your gaze hardening.

Sidney took the knife out of Jill’s back and you pushed her off you. Getting back on your own two feet, you looked down at Jill, your knife still in her stomach.

You took a step forward, kneeling over Jill as you tilted your head to the side, your eyes boring into hers. You took the knife out of her side and trailed it down from her throat and towards to her chest.

Twirling the knife against Jill’s chest, anticipation coursed through her, your hands itching to dig the sharp weapon into her body.

"Fuck you." Jill launched her fist upwards to try and punch you in the face, but you were the one with the knife, so you pushed the knife in just above her clavicle.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Jill muttered, her words barely above a whisper, blood loss taking a toll on her.

“Probably, but you’re too late now.” You shrugged before you leaned down to whisper in her ear, “hold still.” You raised the knife, digging the sharp metal into her chest. She cried in anguish as you sliced her skin, watching the blood drip down her body. 

Jill placed her hands against your chest, trying to pry you off her body as she struggled to move from underneath you. You brought the knife upwards once more, impaling it into her body, digging it as far into her as the knife could reach.

“S-stop!” Jill stuttered, blood filling in her mouth as she tried to get you to stop in any way possible. “Please. Y/n, please.”

Your chest heaved up and down, you halted your ministrations and looked down at her below you.

“I’m sorry.” Jill coughed, blood splattering on your clothes. “I- I didn’t mean to do any of this.”

You stood up, looking to your side, you saw Sidney look at you with an unreadable expression. She reached behind her and pulled a gun from the back of her belt.

Wordlessly, she handed it to you. You took it from her hesitantly before looking back at Jill, her eyes going back and forth from you to the gun.

“No, no, please. Y/n, don’t do this. Please.” Jill begged, holding up her hands in front of her with all the strength she had left.

You gave Jill one last look before raising the gun up to her head before pulling the trigger. Everything felt numb as you watched your sister's body slump to the floor, blood still pouring from her wounds.

You were soon snapped out of your haze once you heard Tara let out a scream. From behind you, you watched as Tara got stabbed in the stomach by Ethan.

"Gotcha!" Ethan laughed, grinning from ear to ear as he ran his eyes over the girl's wound.

Tara recovered from the stab pretty quickly and shoved her knife deep inside Ethan's mouth, breathing heavily as she watched the pain in his eyes glimmer. 

She let him swallow up his agony for a few seconds before twisting the knife inside, enjoying the painful noises he was making as blood dripped down his mouth. 

"Now die a fucking virgin." Tara sneered, watching as his eyes widened before she pulled the knife out of his mouth. 

His blood splattered on her face and clothing, but she didn't care as she let out a low laugh, lowering down the knife and glancing up to meet your eyes with a smile.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise, a low whistle falling from your mouth as you looked at the younger Carpenter impressed. 

Another gunshot rang throughout the theatre and you looked up at Sam, the girl pointing her gun at Quinn’s body which fell with a loud thud, a bullet wound in the middle of her forehead. 

“I thought she’d put up more of a fight.” You mumbled as your chest heaved up and down.

“It seems that you three didn’t need my help after all.” Sidney said, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“How did you even get in, anyway?” You asked, looking at the older woman.

“I have my ways.” Sidney smiled. “Being the final girl has some perks.”

You were going to reply but your words got caught in your throat as you watched Sam fall from the balcony and down to the floor below her with Bailey.

You rushed over to Sam, Sidney hot on your tail as the two of you had worried expressions pasted on your faces.

Sam coughed, holding her stomach as she sat up. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder causing her to turn around and shove you to the floor, immediately regretting it once she saw it was you.

“You okay, there Carpenter?” You asked, looking up at Sam, your hands raised in surrender.

“Sorry.” Sam apologised, holding a hand out for you to grab.

Sam pulled you up from the floor and the two of you stood facing Tara and Sidney, finally being able to take a breath from all the fighting.

“I have a plan to kill Bailey.” Sam spoke up, a hand holding her ribs, still slightly sore from the fall.

“What do you want us to do?” Sidney questioned, looking at Sam intently.

“I need one of you to take these.” Sam said, holding her phone up as well as a voice changer. “And make a phone call for me.”

“I’ll do it.” Tara said, taking the phone from her sister’s hand.

“And what should we do?” You wondered, gesturing between yourself and Sidney.

“You go with Tara and stay somewhere safe until it's okay to come back out.”

“Roger that.” You smiled, sending a salute towards Sam before walking off with Tara and Sidney. 

You turned around and saw Sam putting on her father’s ghostface robe and mask before getting in her position.

Bailey groaned, rubbing his head as he got up from the floor. He looked around and saw that it was only him left in the theatre. 

Pulling his gun from his holster, Bailey jumped at the sound of his phone ringing. 

“Hello detective Bailey,” Tara said over the phone, the Ghostface voice coming through on Bailey’s phone. “I have one question for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Bailey replied, walking up to the stage where the ghostface mannequins were. “What’s that?”

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“Favourite scary movie?” Bailey repeated with a chuckle. 

“I’m asking because you’re in one now. You’re in my movie.”

“Oh, and I see you’ve put on your true face, huh? Your birthright.” Bailey said as he shot two mannequins in the head before looking at Billy’s mannequin which didn’t have a robe on it. “Poetic you’re gonna die in it.”

“This is what you wanted, isn't it?” 

“Now you know the truth, huh?” Bailey said after shooting another mannequin. “Murder’s in your blood. Stop fucking around and show yourself!”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

“Alright, I am a fucking police officer, how do you think this is going to go, Sam?” Bailey shouted down the phone. “Who d’you think they’re gonna believe, huh?”

“Probably the one who’s still alive.”

Bailey screamed, smashing his phone to the ground, panting as he shook his head. Sam walked on the stage behind him, tilting her head as he turned around. Bailey stammered back, screaming loudly as Sam stabbed every inch of his body that she could. 

When she finally stopped, Sam let Bailey fall to the ground as she took off her mask. The man looked up at her, choking on his own blood. As Sam was about to finish him off for good, Tara came up beside her, you and Sidney opting to stay back.

“My father was a murderer.” Sam said breathlessly. “No matter what you think, I'm better than that.”

Sam looked down at her sister, the latter tilting her head as she relaxed her face. Sam let a small smirk take over her features before turning back to Bailey.

“But you did fuck with our family, so...” Sam said, gripping her knife harder as she shoved it into Bailey’s eye, the man screaming in pain. 

“Nice.” Tara nodded, watching as life drained from Bailey.

“Thanks.” Sam replied. “You okay?”

“No.” Tara chuckled with a shake of her head. 

Sam gave a nod of acknowledgement as she took off her robe. You watched as the sisters walked to the stairs where they sat down, you and Sidney sitting beside them.

Tara rested her head against your shoulder and you gently took a hold of her hand, rubbing comforting circles on the back.

“Thank you for letting me go.” Tara said, looking at her sister as she kept her head on your shoulder.

“I knew you could take care of yourself.” Sam replied and the two sisters shared a smile between them. “I want to be in your life, but only as much as you want me to be.”

“I want you to be.” Tara said quickly. “I promise you I am going to get so much therapy after this. I’m serious. We're going to get through this. Together.” 

All of a sudden, the peaceful moment was interrupted when Ethan ran towards you four, blood dripping out of his mouth and down his chin. Before Ethan could get near, a broken TV was pushed off a table and onto his head, the boy falling to the ground, finally being killed.

“Saw that in a scary movie once.” Kirby smiled, looking over at Sidney as the woman held a look of surprise.

The doors to the theatre were opened, multiple cops running in as Danny followed quickly behind. Sam quickly got up and made her way towards him, being followed closely behind by you, Tara, Sidney and Kirby.

“Are you okay?” Danny questioned, looking Sam over as he cupped her cheeks with a worried look on his face before pulling her into a quick hug.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded with a small smile.

“I thought you might need some reinforcements. And I called the hospital, Mindy and Gale are going to be okay. Mindy’s on her way here now, they couldn’t stop her.”

“Not bad cute boy.” Tara nodded.

“Thanks.” 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Sidney said, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You gave a weak nod, walking out of the theatre with everyone. Once you got wind of fresh air you were rushed into the back of an ambulance. A medic tending to the cuts on your face along with the stab wound in your shoulder.

Sidney sat beside you, the woman holding your hand every time you winced from the pain. After the medic was finished they gave you one more check up before moving onto something else.

Finally feeling fatigue catch up with you, you rested your head against Sidney’s arm. The older woman let a smile form on her face as she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“You’re a brave kid.” Sidney said softly, rubbing a hand up and down your arm. “You should never have had to shoot your sister.”

“She lost the right to be my sister when she started killing people.” You said, moving out of Sidney’s embrace.

“Still, no one should ever have to go through what you’ve been through.” 

“I could say the same about you.” You chuckled, bumping your shoulder into hers.

“At least I didn't get stabbed this time, just a little winded.”

“You’re getting old for this, Prescott.” 

“Watch it, y/l/n.”

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry.” You said, a laugh bubbling up from your throat as you held your hands up in surrender.

“I think someone is looking for you.” Sidney said, nodding her head in the direction of a frantic looking Tara, standing beside her sister.

“I’ll be right back.” You said, quickly getting up and making your way over to the girl.

“Y/n!” Tara said, finally spotting you. She ran towards you, the two of you meeting in the middle. “Shit, are you okay? I- I was so caught up I forgot to ask and-”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You cut Tara off, gently placing a hand underneath her chin, using your forefinger and thumb to tilt her head up.

Tara’s breathing was erratic, her heart practically beating out of her chest but she complied. Tara wrapped her hands around your shoulders and pulled you down for a kiss. 

You both sighed contently into the kiss. Easily getting lost in each other’s presence. Butterflies fluttered all around in your stomach as you finally got to kiss your girl with no matter in the world.

“Sorry, that was a bit forward.” You mumbled pulling away, scratching the back of your neck as you rocked backwards and forwards on your feet.

Tara didn’t care and she placed her hands on the side of your face, pulling you into a kiss that took all of the air out of your lungs. Your eyes went wide with shock but you quickly fell back into reality and placed your hands on Tara’s waist, pulling her closer and letting yourself fall into the kiss.

Tara let out a small gasp once your lips separated and you smiled once you saw her chest rapidly falling up and down with a small blush coating her cheeks and you couldn't help the smile that threatened to break out on your face.

Due to the closeness of the two of you, both your faces barely an inch away from each other, you could see every intricate detail on her face. You admired her for a little while but you couldn’t contain yourself so you crashed your lips back against hers. 

The kiss broke naturally, leaving pecks as you moved your face away from Tara. You rested your forehead against Tara’s, small chuckles falling from your lips.

“Your sister is going to kill me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around Tara’s shoulders to pull her into a hug.

“One-hundred percent.” Tara replied, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her head against your chest.

“You’re worth it.” You mumbled, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Okay, you two.” Sidney said, walking over to you and Tara. “That's enough sappy shit for now.”

“Sid!” You exclaimed, looking at the woman in shock. “What the hell!”

“Oh come on, let’s go see Kirby.” Sidney said, walking over to where Kirby and Sam were.

You followed behind, hand in hand with Tara, taking your time together. 

“You ever need me, call.” Kirby said, talking to Sam, but turning to you and Tara as she saw you both walk over. “We’re all apart of the same fucked up family now. And also, legacy doesn’t always have to be a bad thing, okay?”

You smiled at Kirby but it quickly vanished once you heard Tara sniffle beside you, the younger Carpenter looking to the ground as her bottom lip started to quiver, tears falling from her eyes.

“Hey.” Kirby said, looking over at Tara, seeing as you pulled her into your arms.

“It’s just Chad-”

“Hey we got another one here!” A medic shouted, wheeling the boy out on a stretcher.

“Chad!” Tara shouted, running over to the boy with you and Sam not far behind her.

“How the fuck are you still alive?” You muttered, looking at him in disbelief.

Chad smiled, holding his hand up and showing five fingers. 

“Core fucking five.” Tara smiled, pulling the boy into a hug.

“Oh my god, you guys okay?” Mindy shouted, running over to you. “I know who the killer is, it's Ethan and Bailey.”

“And Quinn.” Sam said.

“And Quinn, fuck!” Mindy huffed.

“And Jill.” You added.

“Jill? But she was dead? Wait, I missed the monologue again!” Mindy shook her head, not believing it all, holding on to her brother's side as he was wheeled into the back of an ambulance. “Wait, are you okay? You don’t look okay. Oh my god we all survived.” 

As Chad and Mindy were taken away in an ambulance, Sam looked down in her coat that was hiding her fathers mask, seemingly in a trance she was snapped out of it by Tara’s voice.

“Sam.” Tara said, her hand grasping yours. “You coming?”

Sam nodded her head with a smile, dropping the mask to the floor. She walked up to you two and the three of you walked back over to Sidney, the woman standing by herself as Kirby was taken to a hospital too.

“You guys going to be okay?” Sidney asked, her gaze focusing on you for a moment longer.

“We will be.” Sam said, looking over at you and Tara.

“Yeah, we’ve got each other.” You smiled, tightening your grip on Tara’s hand. 

“Just like Kirby said, if you need anything, you call me. Okay?” Sidney said, reciprocating your smile. 

“We will.” You nodded. Sidney gave you one last look before walking off and down the road. 

“So…” Sam trailed off, looking at you and Tara then glancing down to your conjoined hands. “You two a thing now?”

“Oh my god, Sam!”

tag list: @andsoigotabutterfly @dksjskx @dreifhraniquo29 @karsonromanoff @btay3115 @bananasplits-world @youralphawolf72 @beaniiekidd

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

The Quiet Kid Pt. III.

[pairings]: Tara Carpenter x Reed!Fem!Reader

[Summary]: After the attack at the apartment, it wasn't long before the others found out about who you really are.

[warnings]: swearing, bad writing

A/N: I don't know, I'm thinking about changing my username. But only if you guys are okay with that. Also thanks for almost 400 followers. Holy Shit!Oh and should i Do a pt 2 of One more chance? If so, tell me what would you like to be in it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

After you’ve been patched up in the ambulance, you decided to just lean against it. Tara and Mindy are there too. Sitting on the back of the ambulance with Mindy’s head on Tara’s shoulder. Anika has been driven to the hospital because of the amount of blood she has lost.

As you are daydreaming by yourself, you see Chad walking up to you. However, you pay no mind to it, even as he settles beside you. There’s a long beat of silence before he speaks up. “So…..how are you?” You just look at him and after a couple of seconds he nods. “Listen, I-.....I know you like Tara. And I know, you  know that I do too.” He takes in a deep breath as he finally looks up from the ground. “ But I think it’s pretty fucking clear who she like back.” Chad laughs breathlessly.

You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “And who would that be?” 

“You, dumbass!” He exclaims. “ i mean, yes we maybe closer and all, but the way she fucking looks at you? She-....” Chad pauses and looks down at his shoes. “She will never look at me like that. And besides, I think liking Tara was just……my mourning.  I thought that, maybe if we’d get together, I don’t know, we could…..help each other move on. Shit, that’s such bullshit.” He laughs pathetically at himself.

“That’s not true. It just seems that the both of you are dealing with what happened to you in such different but still somehow familiar ways.  Okay? I-” You couldn’t finish your sentence as Chad’s attention is turned towards Ethan, who has just walked into the closed down area. Chad mutteres something among the lines of, ‘That mother fucker’ and ‘ Son of a bitch’ then storms over to Ethan. 

Suddenly, you see Tara’s face come into view. She smiles at you slightly. “ Hi.” You nod back at her. “Hi “ 

She looks down at the ground and swallows hard. “ So, uh, are you planning on telling the others about Kirby? “

While hesitantly nodding, you suck in a deep breath. “ Yeah, I do. But I don’t think right now is a good time for that. “Tara nods then looks over where Sam is and sees Detective Bailey stumbling out of the apartment building. Tara’s face softens and she looks back at you, grabs your hand and starts walking towards them.

Letting out a yelp, you try to keep up with her. When you arrive you see Bailey sobbing.  Tara looks up at him. “I’m really sorry about Quinn. “

He nods at her and looks down at the ground. “Thank you. “ Bailey sniffs and looks up at Sam. She puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Both my kids are gone. My whole family…..gone.” Bailey sobs out. You bite your lip as you look at the grieving man.  Sam and Tara glance at each other . then you feel Tara squeezing your hand, well you didn't even realize she was still holding it. “ they took me off the case. But I'm not gonna stop until I find him. You fuck with my family….you die.”He says angrily while glancing at Sam.

“Agreed”

Suddenly, you hear a voice-that you know all too well- say behind you with rushed breaths. “Hey, are you okay? I came as soon as I heard. “ You smile and go over to her. She grins at you then holds out her arms, welcoming you in a sweet hug. When you pull away, Tara once again takes hold of your hand. 

Sam perks up. “Gale, I swear to god.. “ She warns Gale. 

“Truce, okay? I’m here for whatever you need. “ She says, almost pleading.

Sam scoffs at her. “Yeah, okay. Nice try”

“Really, I am. “ Gale looks at the three of you then sighs. “Okay, fine. Off the record, okay?” Tara looks at Sam and she nods hesitantly. 

“Okay. Thank you. “

Then, Tara and Gale make eye contact. Tara starts shaking her head. “I’m…sorry I punched you. “ A light smirk grows on Gale’s face. “No, you’re not”

“I’m not. “ Tara smiles. Gale turns to Detective Bailey but your attention remains on Tara until your ears perk up at the sound of your sister's voice.

“Ladies. “ Kirby walks up to the five of you and when she notices you, her eyes quickly fill with concern. She steps closer to look at your bandages . “Oh, shit. You okay? “ You just nod at her and she wraps her arms around you in a quick hug then she turns to the others. 

“Kirby? What? Is the whole familia here?” Kirby rolls her eyes. “Gale” 

“She’s with the FBI” Says Sam as she looks at the two. 

Gale looks at her in disbelief. “She’s a child. When did they start letting children into the FBI?” 

“I’m 30 “ Kirby says with a sassy tone that makes you giggle. Tara smiles lightly as she looks at you then turns her attention back to Gale and Kirb’s conversation. 

“Well, you look like a zygote” 

“I have a gun, Gale” She puts her hands on her gun that’s attached to her belt around her waist.

Gale looks down at it. “Okay, fine. You’re gonna want to see this too. “

— —

About half an hour later, you guys find yourself outside of an old theater. Gale is leading the way inside with Kirby trailing behind her as you and your friends silently follow. 

“Apparently, they used fake names to rent this place.” Gale says more to Kirby than you guys. 

“How did you find it?” 

You are currently walking between Chad and Tara who are just quietly looking around and listening to Gale and Kirby. You stare ahead while walking, trying to not make anything awkward. When you arrive at a door, Gale opens it with a swiping card and lets you guys in. You go up some stairs then you come across another door. Gale swipes the card again and a couple of seconds later, every one of you is inside as Gale turns on the lights.

When the lights turn on, you see the theater. “It’s a movie theater. “

“It’s not just a movie theater. “Gale pauses as she looks at each of you. “It’s a shrine.” Your eyebrows furrow and you start walking further inside.  You look around and your eyes widen at the sight. It’s a bunch of evidence from all the previous attacks. Then, the curtains go up and on the stage is revealed all 9 robes of all 9 killers with Sam’s father’s, Billy Loomis’, in a glass box in the middle.

You all split up to look around. You go and follow Kirby as she makes her way towards the dummy with Jill Robert’s shirt on. Next to it was a display case with a photo and a knife in it. You clench your jaw as you see the slight sadness on your sister's face.

And that’s when you hear Mindy’s voice shout. “ Holy shit! Is that a kid in that photo?! “ Your eyes widen as the others walk over to her. Sighing, Kirby grabs your arm and walks you over too.

“Wait…..I-look “ Chad points at the ripped newspaper page next to the photo. “Right here, it says, ‘ Y/N Reed is officially the youngest victim of another ghostface massacre.’ What the fuck? “ They all turn to look at you as you stand beside your sister awkwardly. Of course, Tara, Sam and Gale nowhere surprised, but the twins, Ethan and Bailey? Oh, they had many questions. 

“You’re Kirby’s sister?!” 

--------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Sorry, this is very short!

[stephstars08]

Welcome to my Darkside

GF!Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Obsessed!Ethan, Adult Language, Jealous!Ethan, Murder, Blood, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Tension, Sexual References, Make Out Sessions, Implied Smut, and Maybe Some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any)

Summary: Ethan has a darkside and when the girl he’s obsessed with decided to go on a fake date with another guy Ethan can’t help but let his darkside come out. But, what Ethan doesn’t know is that Y/N has a darkside of her own.

Inspired Song: DARKSIDE by Neoni

Word Count: 1,956

Author’s Note: Here is another Ethan story for all of you Ethan Girls and it’s even more special since it’s Ethan as Ghostface which I’ve only written one other time! I hope you all enjoy!!

Ever since the first day that Ethan met Y/N he immediately became obsessed with her. Since Y/N is roommates with Mindy and Ethan is roommate with Mindy’s twin brother Chad they both hang out with the same group of friends. Well, Ethan doesn’t refer any of them as his friends since the only reason why Ethan is in New York is to get revenge on Sam for murdering his brother which was a year prior in Woodsboro.

Ethan isn’t doing this revenge plan on his own. His sister Quinn is roommates with Sam and her little sister Tara, and his father is a detective at the NYPD. However, no one knows that Ethan is related to them so to keep that a secret he changed his last name to Landry while his sister and father changed their last name to Bailey, so no one knows that they are related to Sam’s ex-boyfriend.

Ethan knew the number one rule his father gave him, and Quinn was to not get attached to anyone. Ethan was doing fine with that rule till he met Y/N. Quinn did notice that Ethan was growing feelings for Y/N, and she told him was to be careful because if their dad finds out about is little crush, Y/N will be first on the slaughter list.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Friday night and Ethan was at the groups regular Friday night hangout with Tara and Chad. The hangout place is a restaurant that is right down the road from the college campus that they all go to. Ethan was sitting at a table with Tara and Chad who were sitting right across from him when Y/N finally showed up. “Hey, sorry I’m late.” Y/N said as she slid into the booth Ethan was sitting in. “It’s okay, we just sat down about five minutes ago.” Ethan reassured her.

“Where is Mindy?” Y/N asked in a curious tone. “Apparently she has a date with that girl Anika.” Tara told her which made Y/N roll her eyes. “She never fucking tells us anything.” Y/N said in annoyance as she started to look at the menu. “Better get used to it since that’s just how my sister is.” Chad told her.

“Why were you running late?” Ethan asked Y/N changing the subject since he doesn’t give a fuck about what’s going on with Mindy. “I ran into Max right after I got out of my last class.” Y/N answered keeping the annoyance in her voice. Ethan felt his blood boil right when Y/N said Max’s name.

Max is a guy who Y/N shares two classes with, and he’s been trying for two months to get Y/N to go out with him. He follows her around like a puppy dog and it drives Ethan fucking crazy. Even though Y/N has turned Max down thousands of times, he can’t help but get extremely jealous when he sees them together. Ever since the day Ethan laid eyes on Y/N he declared that he will be the only one that’s allowed to have her. He’s the only one that can have a romantic relationship with her. She belongs to him and only him.

“That simp is still trying to get you to go out with him?” Chad said looking up from the menu in his hands to look over at Y/N. “It’s like right when I walk into any building on campus, he’s right there waiting for me.” Y/N explained with little hint of anger in her voice. “It’s so fucking annoying!” Y/N added.

“I have an idea on how you can get Max to stop asking you out and leave you alone.” Tara told her putting the menu down flat on the table. “What is it?” Y/N asked her in a curious tone. “You’re not going to like it.” Tara told her in warning tone. “Tara, I am willing to do anything to make this little shit leave me the fuck alone.” Y/N told her in a stern tone. “You’re going to have to agree to go on one date with him.” Tara told her which made Ethan’s heart rate speed up. “Wait, so to get Max to leave her the fuck alone she has to go out on a date with the desperate simp?” Chad asked Tara with confusion. “I wasn’t finished.” Tara said giving him a quick side glare and then looked back at Y/N. “Agree to go on one date with him and during the date make it the worst date he’s ever been on to make him not want a second date.” Tara explained the idea. “So, I need to act like a total bitch to make him not want to go on another date with me?” Y/N asked her. “Yeah, pretty much.” Tara told her with a nod. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, so I’ll do it.” Y/N said which made Ethan’s heart drop to his feet.

He couldn’t believe that Y/N is going along with Tara’s plan. Yes, it’s going to be a fake date for Y/N, but Ethan’s jealousy couldn’t help but start to take over his body. Anything can happen during this so-called date. What if the date actually starts off good and it makes Y/N not want to do the plan anymore? What if Max charms her? Ethan knew that he has to talk her out of doing this plan. Ethan was too busy in his thoughts to notice that everyone was telling the waitress their order till Y/N said his name. “Oh, sorry!” Ethan said coming back to reality. Ethan told the waitress his order and then gave her the menu. “Okay, I’ll go put in your orders.” The waitress told them and walked away.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked Ethan with concern in her voice. “Yeah, just got a lot of Econ shit in my head.” Ethan answered her with a lie which did make her let out a giggle. “Don’t we all have college shit stuck in our heads.” Y/N told him. “It’s Friday. Those thoughts can wait till Monday.” Y/N told him putting her hand on top of his’s hand that was resting on the table. After Ethan gave her a nod she went back and to talking to Tara and Chad. She kept her hand on Ethan’s till their food came.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Monday morning and right when Ethan step onto the plaza of the college campus he saw Y/N talking to Max. He knew that Y/N just agreed to go on a date with Max by just the stupid ass grin on his stupid ass face. Jealousy quickly shot up Ethan’s body the same it did Friday night.

Max has been on Ethan’s death list for a while now. It took everything in Ethan to not go over there and kill that son of a bitch. It took everything in Ethan to not go over there and punch Max in the face and tell him that Y/N belongs to him. The only thing that made Ethan feel a little better was the fake smile Y/N was giving Max.

Right when Max walked away from her, she dropped the smile and Ethan quickly walked over to her. “You’re seriously going along with Tara’s stupid ass plan?” Ethan said to her trying his best to hide his jealousy. “I’m only going along with half of the plan.” Y/N told him which quickly confused Ethan. “What do you mean by only doing half of the plan?” Ethan asked her in confusion. “I’m going to welcome Max to my darkside.” Y/N told him as her lips curved up into a smirk.

Before Ethan could say anything else Y/N walked away from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night Ethan was in the alley way next to Max’s apartment building in his Ghostface costume. He knows Y/N isn’t going to do what she’s planning till the date comes so Ethan is going to take Max out before the date. Plus, he doesn’t know what Y/N meant by showing Max her darkside. Ethan knows he’s playing with fire killing Max as Ghostface and if he gets caught it will ruin his families’s revenge plan, but he needs to make sure that this date never happens, and this is his only solution.

Ethan heard a car door close, so he perked out of the alley way and saw Max walk into the apartment building. Ethan knew it was go time so he started to make his way up the fire escape. When he got to the right fire escape, he quietly opened the window that was to Max’s bedroom. Before Ethan climbed through the window, he heard two-gun shots which made him jump. Ethan climbed through the window and quietly closed it.

Ethan made his way to Max’s living room to see Max laying in a pool of his own blood on the hard wood floor. Max had one gunshot wound to the chest and the other one right through the middle of his forehead. “What the fuck?” Ethan said with a mixture of confusion and shock in his voice. “Well, look what we have here.” Ethan heard a familiar voice say from behind him. When he turned around, he saw Y/N standing there holding a gun in her left hand.

“Really, Ethan? Ghostface? Are we in a fucking Stab movie?” Y/N asked him. Ethan took off his mask. “That’s a long story.” Ethan told her. “So, you have a darkside, too?” Y/N said looking him up and down. “Doesn’t everybody.” Ethan told her. “Agree to disagree.” Y/N told him. “I couldn’t wait till the date to show him my darkside.” Y/N said putting her gun away in the pocket that was inside her jacket.

“You know.” Y/N started as she walked closer to him. Ethan’s heart rate sped up at every step Y/N took towards him. “I never thought that Ghostface was sexy till now. Seeing you in this costume is really turning me on.” Y/N told him look up at him him with lust in her eyes. Y/N put her right hand flat on his chest and started rubbing it lightly which was quickly turning him on as well. Seeing this side of Y/N was making Ethan’s obsession grown more for her.

Before either one of them could start to lean in they heard police sirens. “Shit! They got called quicker than I thought!” Y/N hissed taking her hand off Ethan’s chest. “Come on!” Ethan said grabbing her hand. He led her into Max’s bedroom. “We can go down the fire escape.” Ethan told her letting go of hand to open the window. He let her climb through the window and then he followed her out onto the fire escape. After Ethan quietly shut the window, they carefully made their way down the fire escape.

When they got onto the ground it was Y/N’s turn to grab Ethan’s hand. Ethan let her drag him by the hand down the alley way to the back-alley way behind all of the buildings. They passed by five buildings to get to Y/N’s car that was parked in the back-alley way. Y/N let go of Ethan’s hand to get her car keys out of her pants pocket. After she unlocked her car Y/N got into the driver’s seat while Ethan got into the passenger seat.

Right after Ethan closed the car door Y/N grabbed him and smashed their lips together. It didn’t take long from the kiss to turn into a make out session. They continued to make out till they needed air.

“My place or yours?” Y/N asked him once she caught her breath. “Mine.” Ethan answered. Y/N started up her car. She backed out of the alley way and sped down the street.

[darling-i-read-it]

Please Don't Kill Me Mr. Ghostface!

Ethan Landry x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k 

Warnings: SCREAM 6 SPOILERS 

Very susceptible reader, Ethan’s reaction to Richies death, heavy insinuations to smut, faking the reader and Quinn's death, the slight cringe from scream movies dialogue <3, they literally have sex in the stab shrine room (when will it be my turn), (that is all skipped over), me being unsure of which ghostface was at which part of the movie. I have only seen Scream 6 once and was just going off what I remembered from it! So if things are wrong (timing, Ghostfaces, etc) then I’m sorry! 

Author’s Note: This one requires some suspension of belief lol. I don’t know HOW to justify the reader doing all these things except Ethan was cute and this is fiction <3 I hope you enjoy love!! Also I wasn’t 100% sure on if Ethan’s name was Landry or Bailey. I went with Landry (which I’m sure is fake but what we all know him as! So when I refer to the house under that name, I was torn lol)

Requested by anon, ooh ok so can i request ethan x reader where reader is in on the ghostface thing (but she’s not killing people she just knows about it) and like helps them with stuff (maybe with like faking quinn’s death and stuff like that idk) but also it’s somehow fluffy relationship stuff in there too lol (sorry it’s kinda all over the place😬)

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You were laying on the back on Ethan’s bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. His room was as familiar to you as your own was. You had practically grown up at the Landry’s home, going to school together for your entire lives and staying close to Ethan throughout it all. Once you had hit your senior year in high school, it seemed only fate the two of you would start to date.

You put down your phone with a gentle huff. Ethan was sitting in front of his computer, doing homework. You turned your head to face him, trying to telepathically ask for attention. As if he could read your mind, he spoke. 

“Give me five more minutes.” 

“I told you taking chemistry for your lab credit was dumb,” you said gently, wanting to sneak in an ‘I told you so’ but also not wanting to agitate him. He was brilliant but he couldn’t always grasp the concepts he had too. You suspected some sort of undiagnosed learning disorder but you were far from a doctor. You were just his best friend. 

“I don’t remember you being there when I picked classes,” he said quietly. You rolled your eyes. 

“I was there in spirit.” You grabbed your phone again, flipping onto your stomach. You opened it back up, looking past the screensaver of you and Ethan over the summer before, when you had been on vacation with his family. You reopened Instagram to continue your doom scroll. The first story you opened was that of a friend from school. 

You usually skipped through them, not even registering what they said, but paused at the large bolded letters over a black screen. 

Rip Richie <3 

You didn’t deserve to be caught up in that. 

You squinted, trying to place a Richie that you knew. The first that came to your mind was Ethan’s older brother but just as quickly as the thought came it left. It couldn’t have been him. He was with his girlfriend in Modesto or something. Plus, how would this rando in high school know before you and Ethan? You kept flicking through your friend's stories, confused. Someone had posted a blurry picture of some sort of a crime scene. It was clearly reposted over and over so the picture itself was almost lost. You squinted and then opened your google app.

“Okay I’m done,” Ethan said, shutting his laptop with triumph. “I’m gonna ace that test tomorrow.” He looked over your face and could read you with ease. Something was wrong - or at the very least, confusing. “What?” 

You googled Richies name. A flood of reports came up. Your lips parted in surprise as you looked up at Ethan. 

“What?” he repeated. Before you could explain, his phone rang. You both looked towards where it was resting on the bed beside you. You picked it up. A picture of his dads face was on the screen. 

“Oh God,” you whispered, unable to contain it. 

“What?!” He grabbed his phone and answered it quickly. You sat up, tossing your phone aside and getting off the bed. You knew right now that he was going to be grieving more than you. You had to be there for him. “Hello? Dad?” You stood beside him and watched as his face fell according to the muffled voice coming from the receiver. His eyes were laced with confusion and then a flash of pain. “What do you mean Richie-” He was cut off. 

There were a few more words and then his eyes went dead with emotion. You weren’t sure what to do so you stood beside him. He hung up the phone after a moment and then looked up at you. 

“Richie?” He nodded. His mouth was ajar, stunned. He threw his arms around you and you embraced each other as he stood up. “What happened?” you questioned. He was silent. You didn’t think you were going to get an answer until he spoke, quietly. 

“He was murdered.” 

-

“It’s actually kind of easy to rig the roommate system,” you muttered, sitting at a chair in front of your computer. The room behind you was filled with the remaining Landry’s. 

You turned around to the curious eyes. 

“So he’s in?” Wayne questioned. You nodded. 

“He is going to be Chads Meeks-Martin’s roommate,” you explained. He slapped you on the back in approval. You had always been on good terms with Wayne. He was the kind of dad who would ask if you had a boyfriend and then wink at his son after the question. He had been slightly overjoyed when Ethan told him you were dating. This came only after, he caught you and Ethan making out in his bedroom. It was mortifying but he was pretty okay about it. 

“Thanks kid.” 

Wayne was not on board with telling you about the trio of Ghostfaces he had planned but Ethan insisted. You had been there when he found out about Richie and you had been there through all of his hardships. 

“And you’re okay with coming around my place when we have to…you know…” Quinn made a gesture of slitting her own throat. “I mean, I need someone to drag my body out of there while my dad brings a new one.” 

You tried to ignore your moral dilemma to this. Ethan had promised you wouldn’t be implicated in any of this. But sometimes when Wayne looked at you during this you knew that you would go down with them if he went down. You were in on this now. You couldn’t exactly back out. 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Quinn smiled brightly. She was slightly too excited about this. Part of you still didn’t think it was actually going to happen. You couldn’t imagine Ethan actually killing anyone, even when his eyes lit up while talking about it. 

“For Richie,” Ethan promised, placing a hand on your back. You nodded, getting up and out of your seat. You gestured to the computer. 

“I didn’t think this is what I would be doing with my computer science classes,” you admitted. Ethan smiled gently at you, ever soft, even when planning people’s literal murders. 

“For some reason I feel like she’s gonna have no problem faking our deaths but is gonna have a major problem not getting to hang out with Ethan everyday,” Quinn teased. You rolled your eyes. You wouldn’t be able to see him when he’s hanging out with his new group of friends. At least, you would have to act like you didn’t know him as closely as you actually did. You were meant to be Quinn’s friend in all of this. 

Wayne was grabbing papers off the table, presumably planning. He actively tried to burn everything after memorizing it. You thought it was dumb of him to write anything else. 

“You gonna be okay?” Ethan questioned, jokingly. You rolled your eyes. 

“You shouldn’t be worried about me E. I’m not the clingy one in this relationship.” 

-

Sam and Tara shouldn’t have been as nice as they were. You recognized the hate in Sam's eyes, the paranoia that was justified. She was out, attempting to get Tara from a party she went to. You sat in the apartment with Quinn. She was working through some homework. You were still amazed she did all that during this planning. 

You walked around her room, making sure that all of the blood that needed to come out, would come out. You liked to double check. You blamed the nerves. 

“Is he supposed to be here soon?” Quinn questioned. You glanced back at her. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to talk that much over the phone.” You were standing on top of her bed. Everything was in place for when your Ghostface arrived. You hopped down. She turned away from her computer. 

“I know you’re not supposed to. I also know he can’t help himself.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Soon. Within the hour,” you admitted. She left her computer open, to show that she was ambushed. You and Quinn were supposed to die tonight at the hands of Ghostface. After Sam and Tara left, he would sneak in and find you both, unsuspecting and oh so helpless. By the time the sisters returned home, you would both be dead, or close to it.

You glanced down at your phone which was still open to your texts with Ethan. 

Can’t wait to stick something in you tonight ;) 

You rolled your eyes, flushed, and turned off your phone. 

Quinn helped you to make sure everything would look as realistic as possible. She explained, again, that they would blame Sam for all of this. Once she was dead and Richie’s death had been paid for, the two of you would be able to return to society as though Ghostface had held you captive. 

You were too far in to back out now. 

You heard the front door open. Quinn shut her blinds so that no one would see Ethan maskless. It had been a couple of weeks since the two of you had been alone (or alone with Quinn). He walked in through the front door, which Sam had left unlocked in her rush, and quickly made his way to Quinn’s room. 

You met him halfway, throwing your arms around him. His laughter was muffled by the voice changer. You took his mask off of him, eager to get your lips on his. You couldn’t believe you were really doing this. You couldn’t believe your boyfriend was going to fake kill you. 

He kissed you before you could get to it. 

“Alright alright love birds,” Quinn grumbled. “Get in the closet Ethan, the girls are gonna be back soon.” 

“Will you give us one sec?” Ethan questioned. Quinn looked like she wanted to argue but knew that an argument would just continue this further than she wanted to. You stood outside of her door, leaving it ajar. He looked around carefully to make sure no windows were in view. You were alone. 

You took the mask from him. You felt it in your fingers. You hadn’t seen him in the outfit yet. You had seen Quinn and you had seen his dad but you hadn’t ever seen him in the full get up. 

“You’re so scary,” you whispered, a buzz in your voice. “I would be terrified.” 

“Are you scared?” He put the mask up to his face. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. 

“What’s that part in the first Stab?” You thought for a minute, pressing yourself up against him. He looked at you with adoration in his eyes. He had missed you desperately. You had grown up together and spending a long time apart was proving to be more difficult than he thought it would be. “Please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel!” 

He chuckled lowly and clutched your face, leaning over to kiss you. You let him, relishing in his lips. Who knew when he would slip away again to see you. You would be sentenced to hiding until all of this was over. He placed his other hand on your side, holding you in his grasp. 

“Alright you two! Andele, andele!” Quinn opened up the door. He let you go. You grabbed the mask with both of your hands, rubbing it with your thumb. It was scary. It wouldn’t be hard to act the part. 

“You ready to die?” he asked but his voice was so gentle it was almost comical. It was like he was checking in on you. 

“Yes sir.” 

You put the mask over his face and then he was no longer your boyfriend. He was Ghostface. You slipped into Quinn’s room and prepared for your end. 

-

“Maybe I should’ve joined in on the killing,” you muttered, looking up at the ceiling. You were stuck in the Ghostface shrine that Richie had created. It was fun for a while, considering there was so much to look at, but there were only so many times the Stab movies were interesting to watch. Quinn came and went but mostly went. You weren’t sure where Wayne was keeping her otherwise. 

The burner phone in your pocket buzzed. You quickly reached for it. 

“Hello?” 

“Lemme up.” 

You knew that voice. You also knew he wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near here until much later. This room wasn’t even supposed to be found yet. He hung up the phone. You walked to the elevator and pushed the button to lower it. It took a few minutes but you heard it come back after a while. 

Ethan practically threw the gate open. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He threw his arms around you. 

“Those people are really fucking annoying.” You scoffed. You were grateful for the company but not at the behest of his cover. “I missed you.”

“Does your dad know you’re here?”

“I’m supposed to be in a study group.” 

“Skipping study group to see me? Tsk, tsk Ethan.”

“Shush.” 

He dipped his head to kiss you. You put your hands on his cheeks. You melted into him. You tried to imagine what Quinn would’ve said if she was here. Probably some crude joke that all three of you knew to be true in the end. 

You pulled away from him and kissed his jaw as you did so. 

“Bet you’ve never made out in the Stab shrine before,” he questioned jokingly. You scoffed. 

“Alright Ethan,” you scoffed. “How are you feeling?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about feelings,” he whined. “I have to be back soon.” 

“You came all the way up here to have sex in front of all these dead peoples possessions?” He paused. He knew how that sounded. He also knew he had faked your death. He wasn’t super sure how to handle this one. 

“Yes?” 

You narrowed your eyes. 

“I’m not gonna see you before the whole big thing. You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Pillowtalk,” he breathed. You pretended to think. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

-

You sat up against the wall of the backrooms. You dragged him away from the prying eyes of all the killer memorabilia. 

“Are you scared?” you questioned. He had his head resting in your lap. He had to leave soon, you both knew it. 

“No,” he said quietly. “My dad will be there. He wouldn’t let us die when he’s with us.” You were brushing your fingers through his curls. You looked down at his big doe eyes, a faint smile on your face. 

“I’m scared.” 

“Don’t be.” 

“You can’t stop me,” you promised. He rolled his eyes. He hummed pleasantly from your touch. “You’ll be safe, yeah?”

“I’m going to kill someone.”

“I know. I know.” You tried not to think of it. You couldn’t imagine his eyes going black, killing people without remorse. Even when he was rushing at you with the knife, you knew he was just Ethan. “I still want you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe.” 

“You have to go.” He groaned. You pushed him gently so he would get off of you. You would be stuck here. Maybe you would have another Stab marathon. You were beginning to like even the shitty ones. Stab 3 started to become an odd comfort. “I’ll be here when you’re done.” 

“You promise?” 

“Yeah E. I promise.”

[writing-rat]

Ghostface's Little Slut

Pairing: Quinn Bailey x Reader

Content Warning: G!P Quinn Bailey, Quinn Bailey has a penis, Whipping, A bit of dark Quinn, Sex toys, Overstimulation, Begging

Summary: R finds out that Quinn is a Ghostface. Quinn does something about it.

It was one of your first times around Quinn’s apartment. It took some time because Sam and Tara wanted to get a background check on you. You already knew what they had gone through so you understood, and obeyed whatever they said, not wanting to ruin a newfound friendship. You were waiting for Quinn in her bedroom, bored since she was brushing her teeth. That’s when you had the smart idea of trying to see if you could find a shirt due to not having one. 

Just as Quinn walked in, you opened a wardrobe and grabbed a shirt, before you saw the familiar white mask and robe. “You saw it, hm?” she asked, and you heard the darkness in her tone. 

“Saw what,” you answered nonchalantly, your heart breathing fast. “An engagement ring?” you asked, trying to make it genuine. Quinn growled, however, seeing how you were lying to her. “You did,” she spoke and pinned you against the bed. “I genuinely love you, but I need to get revenge for my brother. Got it?” she demanded. You nodded scared.

“Y-yes mommy,” you spoke, accidentally calling her mommy. You immediately covered your mouth, as Quinn smirked. 

“Is this turning you on?” Quinn asked, looking you up and down. You whimpered as it was true, you were wet. “Yes,” you admitted as you knew you didn’t want to get in any more trouble with your girlfriend. Maybe you could see past her being Ghostface or change her mind?  You didn’t know what to do, but you still wanted to be with her. 

You were dragged out of your thoughts when she started to rub your inner thigh, lifting up your shorts that you wore for sleep before she was ripping them off. “Quinn,” you whined out. She just smirked and looked at you before she took your shirt off. “Arms up,” she commanded. You obeyed quickly, not wanting to disobey her. “Good girl,” she spoke as she was soon handcuffing your hands around her bed so you couldn’t move if you wanted. She then grabbed some rope and tied your legs apart to the bed. You were now fully stuck in her bed. 

“Quinn?” You asked, confused. She didn’t usually do this after all.

“I’m going to make sure you are screaming my name,” she teased. “Then if you don’t leak out my secret, we can do this again,” she added. You nodded, about to respond before she kissed you deeply. You were kissing back almost immediately, getting drenched before she pressed her bulge against your leg. You couldn’t help but gasp and then whimper. You needed it after all and nodded.

“Please, need you, want you inside. Desperate for you,” you begged out. Quinn smirked before she took off her pyjama trousers, her dick springing out free as she was taking off her own shirt before grabbing a whip and a vibrator. You were confused about why before she hit your stomach gently. You let out a gasp and arched your back before she suddenly pinned you down and was thrusting inside of you. You widened your eyes, a loud moan slipping out. “Quinn!” You practically screamed out loud. She grinned as she whipped you again, the vibrator soon being pressed against your clit before she started it. You gasped, knowing she was going to overstimulate you at this point. You were going to be good for her.

“Good girl,” she praised, moaning as she was thrusting inside of you, kissing around your neck as she put the whip down for the time being, kissing you gently after as she was pressing the vibrator on harder, as she was thrusting even harder and had memorised where your sweet spot was. You moaned louder, louder than you ever had and you gripped onto her tight. “Fuck!” you practically whined out, unable to help it as she was soon pulling away from your neck and moved to suck your nipple. You let out a whine you were ashamed of at the moment but Quinn just tilted her head as she was pressed hard against you, stopping all movement but keeping the vibrator on your clit. “No, no, no! Please, I want you, please. I need you to move, I want you to ruin me!” You begged needily for her. Quinn smirked darkly. “Good girl, such a good girl,” she praised before she moved fast and rough again. She was hitting your sweet spot again. You soon was getting close. “May I cum?” You moaned out loudly. Quinn nodded. “Cum for me baby girl,” she praised as she kept going. Once you came, she also came inside. She didn’t stop, however, just thrusting still and pressing the vibrator on harder. She was determined to make you cry and beg… 

-

After 30 minutes of torture, you were overstimulated, tired and crying. “Please Quinn, please stop,” you moaned out. You came just one more time before you announced the safeword. “Pineapple!”

“Are you ok baby girl?” Quinn immediately asked, starting to throw the vibrator to the side after turning it off and slowly entering out of you before kissing your cheek. You nodded, too tired to speak. “You did good baby girl. Let me get you some water and food and then I will clean you up before you can sleep, ok?” Quinn spoke. You nodded. She smiled and nodded.

“You will keep my secret, won’t you?” she teased. You nodded, smiling lazily at her. Quinn was happy to hear that, genuinely in love with you.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 9

pairing: dark!quinn bailey x fem!reader, tara carpenter x fem!reader, slight quinn x tara

summary: you and tara are in relationship, happy one, but what if someone thinks they can be better for you?

warnings: smut!!!, dark!quinn, begging, choking, biting, noncon, dirty talk, slut as a nickname, degrading, crying, mentions of blood, cheating, face slapping, quinn is threating with knife, pussy spanking, little dark!tara as well, not proofread, if anything else - let me know!

word count: 3.3k

an: i wrote this at my work and... yeahh, i basically got paid for this so i guess that´s a win! heh, i hope you´ll enjoy this. i think i need to write some fluff after this, or maybe just touch some grass outside, anyways... enjoy!:p

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

"Tara, please!" You whine out.

"Look who´s begging now, huh?" She smirks agaist your neck as her hand run all over you.

"Shut up and just-" For Tara´s height she was really strong, you´re not really sure if it´s because of her training with her sister, or because you underestimate her all the time, but the way she´s pinning you down right now is unbeliveble, and hot.

Tara´s hand slides up to your neck and it shut you up real quick, she makes eye contact with you and squeezes a little. "If you want something, you should ask nicely, (Y/N)."

Of coruse she´s teasing now, since you already made her cum two times tonight. And to be fair, you weren´t entirely nice about it either.

"So how it´s gonna be, (Y/N)?" She smiles at you.

You hate her in these situations, because she always gets what she wants. Always. It´s her stupid pretty face with stupid frackles and stupid big eyes, that make you melt everytime.

"Please Tara," she slows down her hand movements on your body, "I want you to touch me and just-" She starts to circle on your lower stomach as she listens to you very closely, "make me cum, please."

"Your wish is my command, love." She kisses you one more time and then slowly makes her way down, it was really easy access since both of you were completly naked.

Closing your eyes to feel the full pleasure was something you did often, but Tara wasn´t really satisfied with so little eyecontact so she bites into your skin, something that Tara did often to bring your attemtion back to her. Even in school, when you were reading a book for some quite time, she bit your hand.

As you open your eyes, Tara just gives you a small smile, indicating that you did very well. You´re needy as much as her, she just really needs to taste you and make you fall apart. And she did, she starts out slow, teasing you and mostly teasing your clit, she was the biggest fan of yours and she made sure you know it every day.

That night she made it known four times, before you were overstimulated.

After Tara cleaned you up, she noticed that you were already sleeping, which is a good thing, since the last few days were hectic and you barerly slept. She got up and made her way to the kitchen.

"Oh shit, you scared me, Quinn! I thought you´re at you Italian boyfriend." Tara chuckles.

"He´s not my boyfriend and I realized he´s not so good in bed, it was just his lucky day, the firt time we met, I guess..." The readhead shrugs as she sips on her water. "But you sounded like you had a great time, huh?" Quinn raises her eyebrow and Tara just blushes, real hard.

"Oh um... yeah. I though that no one will be at home, so we like-" Tara stutters and Quinn just laughs.

"Didn´t hold back, got it." Quinn nods.

"Yeah... can you not tell Sam? I mean she would give me some sex advices and I just really don´t want to hear it." Tara groans.

Sam knew you and Tara were dating for a few months, but after everything that happened a year ago, she was still very suspious of you turning into a big scary killer and kill everyone. Which is definetly what you´re doing as your after school activity every Wednesday and Friday. You even had a small arguments with Tara, one time she was on Sam´s side, the other day she was hating her sister for always being up her ass. Well let´s just say that dating Tara is little rollercoaster of emotions, but you wouldn´t trade it for anything.

"Won´t do and hey, bring your girl some water, I think she needs it." Quinn throws a bottle of water to Tara.

"Thanks! Goodnight, Quinn." Tara is still blushing like crazy, but she quickly dissapears into her room.

Quinn watches Tara go to her room, where you were sleeping peacefully after Tara made you scream like that. How much Quinn wanted to be there, to see you, to take care of you, to make you scream her name.

You and Quinn met after you brought some literature books to Tara. Which was few months ago and since that, she can´t get you out of your head. But Tara captured your heart first, but she know she can change your mind. And she will.

What Tara didn´t know was that the bottle she just caught was Quinn´s special bottle for her plan to work. And so far it was working amazing, Sam out of town for buisness meeting, you being dead asleep and Tara being so naive, which makes her vulnerable.

Quinn read Tara like a book, so she knew right away, that she will have a sip or two as well. So after Tara making you drink at least half of the bottle, you pass out back to sleep. Her lips touches the bottle too and she drinks the rest of it. And bang, she´s dead asleep too.

Quinn peaks into Tara´s room and smirks to herself, knowing she has the whole night for making the perfect scene.

...

You´re not really sure what time it is, but when you open your eyes, trying to ajdust to the light, you can´t see Tara in the bed with you, so it must be after 8AM, since Tara likes to go to the coffee shop for hers and yours favorites orders.

As you try to sit up, you notice you can´t. Your hands and legs are tied to the bed and you just let out a chuckle. You know that Tara is really open about trying out new things with you, but this is a big unexpected jump even for you. But to be honest you don´t mind at all. You still feel little sore, from yestreday´s action, but nothing you can´t take.

"Baby?" You say little louder, hoping she would get in the room immidietly. But there is no response. "Love?" You try again, but nothing comes from the other side, the doors are still closed. "Tara? I uh- I´m awake!" You get little imatient, as it´s been few minutes, on the bed, without your girlfriend, tied to the bed.

The door finally open, but it´s not your girlfriend. "(Y/N), are you oka-" you and Quinn look at eachother. "oh- sorry! I didn´t know-" Quinn turns around, ready to walk out.

"No, Quinn! Wait! I- Can you help me please?" You quickl say, before she can dissapear.

"Help?" She turns around. "I don´t want to get into, whatever you and Tara have..." Quinn lies, but you´re too emberassed to catch how her words came out in a sarcatic, harsh way.

"No, it´s fine. Uh Tara is not here and my hands are getting really sore, so... if you could just-" You nod towards the ropes attached to your wrists.

"Tara is not here?" Quinn tilts her head, playing innocent is really easy for her, but she can´t contain herself much around you, especially around your naked body, tied to the bed. Completly at her mercy.

You just nod, hoping you will get out of this situation quickly as possible.

"That´s a shame isn´t is?" Quinn walks to you closer, sitting on the bed next to you as her hand grab your wrist. "That Tara is not here." She looks at you.

"I mean... It´s just embarrassing." You mumble as you look at her hand on your wrist.

Why is it taking so long?

"Aww you´re embarrassed. Don´t be, look at you. Look at your body," her hand is now running from your wrist, along your sides, then back up circlening on around your nipples, "it´s perfect, (Y/N)."

"Quinn, what are you doing? This is not- Tara will come back." You try to move away from Quinn, but it´s really hard with the fact that you´re tied to the bed.

"Don´t worry, she won´t come back. Not now at least." The readhead whispers into your ear, which brings out goosebumps on your whole body. Your nipples are now hard, since you´re naked and the room is quite cold.

"Quinn-" you look at her in complete panic, you don´t know what to do, but Quinn does. She planned this to every single detail.

"Shhh, just enjoy it. I heard you last night, you sounded so good, but..." she moves closer to you and kiss you under your jaw, "I know you can scream louder than that, slut."

"Please don´t..." few tears start to fall from your eyes.

"Okay, if you´re not wet, I´ll stop. That´s fair, isn´t it?" She smirks, knowing damn well, that you gonna lose this one.

Fuck, you´re fucked.

You try to move your hips, hoping you could dry yourself up somehow, but you know it´s a lost fight already. You hate your pussy for betraying you like this. You´re body always wanted this kind of a treating, but you need your body to understand that this is not you Tara.

"Let´s see..." Quinn stand up and slowly trails her hand from your breasts, to your stomach and all the way to your pussy. "And look at that!" She smiles as her finger slips into you so easily. "You´re drenhced. You don´t like this, you love this, of course you do!" She pulls her finger out and brings it to her mouth, tasting you. "So fucking sweet. I don´t blame Tara for eating you out for hours, this taste is addicting!" She chuckles.

You try to get out of those restrains, but you can´t. "Quinn-"

"Zip it, I want to hear you scream my fucking name, when I make you fall apart, got it?" Quinn put her hand around your neck and squeezes hard, then she moves to sit on top of you as she begins to make out with you. As a protest you bite her lip, but that didn´t stop Quinn at all, it´s the exact opposite, her kissing gets messier as you can taste her blood on your lips, she´s more turned on. And sadly, you are too.

Her hand slips back on your pussy as she starts quicken her pace and you let out a moan. "See? Not that hard." Quinn mumbles against your lips. And it´s her time to bite your lip.

Fuck- this is so wrong, but it feels so good.

Her hand on your neck starst to get really tight as her other hand on your pussy is playing with you faster, so fast that you can´t hold it anymore. "Fuck, Quinn!" you let out the most pornographic moan of your entire life.

"Good fucking girl, I knew you will like this. Of course you do, you´re such a slut. My slut." She wispers into your ear.

You hum agaist her, trying to catch your breath was the only thing you can concentrate on, at the moment.

"And now you´re agreeing with me. See? I knew you will like this." She kisses your head. "Let´s show this to Tara, hm?"

Your eyes widen at the mention of your girlfriend. "W-what? N-n-no, I don´t think-" Quinn cuts you off.

"You´re not here for thinking, slut. Only for screaming my name, so now shut up and don´t move." She winks, knowing you barely can move a muscle.

After five minutes Quinn comes back with Tara tied to a chair. "Oh my god-" you scream. "Tara? Tara, baby?" you yell towards her, but Tara just looks up at you with tears in her eyes.

"Quinn let her go! Please," you whine, hoping that she will listen. "please." You start to cry more, already forgetting about the pleasure she made you feel a minutes ago.

"Jesus christ, you´re such a cry babies." She comes to you and slaps your cheek. "I will give you a reason to cry, if you continue, slut." Quinn´s soft hand make contact with your cheek one more time and you try to hold your tears.

You lay there completely naked as your whole body is shaking, you´re not sure if it´s still from the pleasure or the stress or the fact that you´re actually really cold. You look at Tara and you notice that she stopped crying too.

"I´ll make a deal with you two, if you," Quinn smiles and looks at Tara, "will fuck (Y/N) the way I say, do everything I´ll order you to do, then I might think about not killing you. If you won´t, Tara... bye bye, see you on the other side." Quinn takes a pocket knife out of her pocket and swings it next to Tara´s cheek.

"You can´t do that!" Yelling was a stupid thing to do, but in order to protect your girlfriend you would do anything. Quinn turns to look at you and she slaps you again. "Gosh, stop making me hurt that pretty little face of yours." She looks at Tara, but quicly turns back to you. "Are you doing this on purpose? Of course, you fucking like getting spanked!"

You blush at Quinn´s words. You fucking blush. "Tara..." your voice breaks as you look at your Tara, watching your naked body.

"Fine. You fucking freak!" Tara spits on Quinn.

Quinn smiles, "oh you two are so messy and I love it!" She swings her knife again, laughing at the two of you. "If you try anything, I´ll cut your throat like, understood?" Tara just nods.

Quinn unties Tara and immedietly points her knife at her. "I want you to eat her out. And you-" Quinn point her knife at you, "you better fucking scream, remember your sweet girlfriend´s life is on the line, (Y/N)."

Tara slowly moves towards you, "are you okay, baby?" she whispers to you and you just nod.

"Enough with the chit chat, get to fucking work!" Quinn yells as she sits on the chair next to the bed.

Tara just gives you a soft smile, something that used to calm you down, but not now. At least you´re glad that the both of you are okay... alive.

As she slowly put her hands under you, she draw small circles of reassurance, hoping it would calm you down at least a little bit. Clossing your eyes sounded like a good idea, at least now you can imagine being there with only your Tara, if that was the case, this would honestly be a very enjoyable moment for the both of you.

As her motuh got closer to your wet pussy, you could feel her breath on you, which brings the shivers everywhere and you let out a soft moan. Tara kisses your pussy, she did this everytime, you love how soft she can be in a dirty moments like this. But... both of you feel like this is a completly different thing, as you´re trying to stay alive.

Tara´s tongue start to go up and down, tasting you made her hums against you as you let out yet another moan. "Fuck, Tara-" your hips jerk at her skilled motuh.

"Oh none of that! You will moan my name, slut. Not hers. Come on!" Quinn harshly says.

"I-" all of your words left you, you don´t know what to say, it feel so wrong. But you want to survive this, whatever this is.

Tara´s hand squeezed you softly, giving you a sign that it is okay. You take a deep breth and at the same time Tara quicken her licks and you moan. "Quinn! Fuck, oh my fucking god!" You moan.

Quinn is smilling ear to ear as she knows how much fucked up thing she´s doing right now. But it took her so long to look at you and Tara, like she didn´t care, like she was okay with you two. But now? When her plan is perfectly made, she can do whatever she wants.

"Give the slut three fingers." Quinn orders.

Tara knows you never took three fingers with her, you´re too tight, she wants to protest, but she also knows the consequences of this decission. So without missing a single beat she slides three fingers into you. Shockingly it went in smoothly and you´re now a moaning mess, repeating only one word, "Quinn".

"Harder," another one of Quinn´s orders.

Tara start to pump her fingers in and out harder, making you whine at how harsh she is going. "That- hurts."

"Good, make it hurt." Quinn´s hand start to slide into her own pants and she was drenched, everything that happened today and is still happening was her dream.

Tara´s fingers were hurting you a lot, but at the same time you feel this pleasure that you never felt and it feel so good, your pussy is swallowing Tara´s fingers and she can feel how much you like it.

"Slap her clit." Quinn let out a shaky words as she was also coming closer to the edge.

And Tara did, so hard, that you think she´s letting out all her anger and frustration on you and you are correct. She don´t stop, she just contniues slapping your clit, until it´s Quinn who brings her out of it. "I think she had enough of spankings, Tara." Quinn chuckles as the sight of Tara slapping you was truly a masterpiece.

Tara stops, but you can tell by looking into her eyes, that she was still angry, sad, horny, but mostly furious with you and the whole situation. And Quinn could tell too, which was again something that just made her plan work, even better.

"Stop and sit on her face, let that little slut make you cum." Quinn notices how Tara´s eyes shift at that order, she was fucking with the two of you so effortlessly.

No matter how much you whimper or try to buck your hips, none of the girls cared, Tara just sits on your face and her hips start to move back and forth, not really carring if you can´t breathe with her pussy in your face at all. Your tongue start to get to work, licking as much as juices as you can, noticing that Tara is enjoying way too much. Noticing that her body is betraying you as much as yours do.

"Let it out, Tara. All these ugly emotions, let it all out." Quinn mumbles as she´s nearly there herself.

No need to say it twice, Tara lean in so she can reach your pussy and she start to spank you again. This time faster and harder, letting out all the anger from you screaming Quinn´s name, from all the moans that were supposed to be hers, but mostly from you being a slut.

And the fact that you´re very close to cumming just comfirms how big of a slut you are, not to Tara, but to anyone who is willing to touch you.

This moment was meant to be, as on the same time all of you cum from the pleasure you are feeling. Tara came all of your face, as almost suffocating you in her juices and pussy. Quinn came at the beautfiul sight infront of her and you came as a dirty little slut, from all the pain that´s Tara been causing you by her hand.

Quinn stands up and come closer to you and Tara. "You did great, my little sluts." She smiles.

Tara want to do something, but she is too tired to jump on Quinn and tackle her down, but she´s trying to come up with the best thing she can do right now.

"Don´t even think about it." Quinn put some fallen hair behind Tara´s ear. "Because I´m so nice and I want this to be more than just a one time thing, I made sure that you two will behave." She walks to the window, where she had her phone recording this whole time, but only the bed, so if she truly wanted to, she would manipulate this recording for her own use. "Because of this, we will have so much fun in the future, girls."

And now you´re truly fucked.

Thank you for reading!!!!

[rollingsins]

Quinn Bailey Must Die, p5

P1 | P2 | P3 | P4 | P5

summary: Tara deals with the fallout of Sam leaving. all hers universe.

warnings: (+18), Tara is (was) Ghostface, language. Implied sexual content.

pairing: tara carpenter x reader, sam carpenter x quinn bailey

word count: 2.6k

a/n: enjoy babes! let me know your thoughts, as always

The first thing Tara does when Sam closes the door is tighten her shoulders and barge into Sam’s bedroom.

You follow, hastily. 

Watch as she reaches for Sam’s clothing rack and tries to pry the lot off the rack and onto the floor. 

“Tara, stop.” You grab her hand as Sam’s jackets crumple to the ground. 

“Don’t, babe,” Tara says, her voice sharp, “This is all going in the dumpster. Don’t try and stop me.” 

“She’ll be back in a week,” You protest, “She’s going to need this stuff.” 

“I don’t care,” Says Tara, rounding on you, “She can walk around naked for all I care. She’s picking Quinn over me. Her own sister.” 

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?” You ask, voice quiet, “We did go behind her back and try to seduce… whatever Quinn is to her. It makes sense she wants space.” 

“She’s done this before,” Tara growls, “When she was fifteen. She picked her deadbeat boyfriend over us. Over me.” 

Before you can stop her she’s pried Sam’s cluster of picture frames off her dresser and into a trash can. 

You sigh. 

And let her tear through Sam’s room like a Doberman off the leash. You’ll fix it yourself tomorrow. 

You sink into Sam’s mattress and watch your girlfriend. 

Her hands are shaky. Her eyes are watering, though you know she’s too proud to let the tears fall in front of you. 

She’s hurting. 

“Why don’t we call Dr Colmann?” You suggest, voice gentle, “She always makes you feel better, babe.” 

“I have to finish this tonight,” Says Tara, “As long as her shit’s in here, I won’t be able to sleep.” 

You bite your lip. 

“Let’s call Dr Colmann,” You suggest, “And if you still want her stuff gone after the call, I’ll help you myself.” 

Dr Colmann had given you her personal number for Tara related emergencies. 

“Tara is a special client,” Dr Colmann had answered after you’d raised an eyebrow, “And I want to make sure you can come to me if you need it.” 

You had never used it. 

Until now. 

“Dr Colmann?” You ask, a little anxious. 

You’d finally convinced Tara to sit, and firmly planted yourself in her lap so she can’t get up and continue her tirade through Sam’s room. 

“We need your help.” 

-

It’s a little after twelve in California, and Dr Colmann looks as if she’s just gotten back from the gym. 

You apologize - taking a work call on a Sunday afternoon seems criminal. Even if it’s your only option. 

But Dr Colmann doesn’t seem to mind.

“What’s going on, Tara?” Asks Dr Colmann, “You seem a little on edge.” 

You rub her back. 

Press the softest of kisses to the side of her head.

“My sister is abandoning me,” Tara says, voice a little fraught. 

“She’s leaving for a week,” You correct, hastily, “We had a small disagreement.” 

“What kind of disagreement?” Dr Colmann asks. 

“That isn’t important,” Says Tara. 

Dr Colmann sighs. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t want to be honest with me Tara.” 

Tara bites her lip. 

“I don’t like the girl she’s seeing,” Says Tara, “It’s the Quinn girl. The one we told you about last month.” 

“The roommate who tried to pursue you?” Asks Dr Colmann, taking notes.

Tara nods. 

“So the fight was about this girl?” Dr Colmann asks. 

Tara hesitates. 

“Kind of,” She says, “I thought… I thought maybe if tried to seduce her, I could show Sam she wasn’t serious about her.” 

Dr Colmann pauses. 

“And do you really think that was the best thing to do, Tara?” She asks, sounding skeptical. 

“I didn’t have a choice,” Says Tara, “She backed me into a corner.” 

Dr Colmann sighs. 

“Tara,” She says, gently, “Have you tried apologizing to your sister?” 

Tara frowns. 

“Apologize?” She asks, as if the word is foreign to her, “For trying to help her?” 

“Tara, trying to seduce the person your sister is interested in, is wrong, regardless of your intentions.” Says Dr Colmann, sternly. 

“And what about her?” Tara asks, heatedly, “It’s okay for Sam to date someone who tried to break up my relationship?” 

“No,” Says Dr Colmann, “If you’re not comfortable with who Sam is seeing, Tara, you should express that to her. In a calm, and non confrontational manner. You can lay out your reasoning and explain why you don’t think her seeing Quinn is a good idea.” 

Dr Colmann hesitates. 

“But, at the end of the day, Tara, you can’t control who Sam sees or who she dates. We’ve talked about this, Tara - you don’t have control over other people’s actions. You need to make peace with that.” 

Tara lets out a discontented grunt. 

You squeeze her shoulders. 

“Start with an apology,” Dr Colmann suggests, “Call Sam and tell her you’d like to apologize in person for your behavior. Start a dialogue, but remember Tara - calm and collected. Telling somebody they can’t do something only leads to them wanting to do it more.”

“Thanks, Dr Colmann,” You say, rubbing Tara’s back, “Should we reach out right away?” 

“It can’t hurt,” Says Dr Colmann, “But she’ll likely need some time. Give it to her. Tell her you’re sorry, and let her come to you.” 

-

Dr Colmann isn’t wrong about Sam needing time. 

She won’t answer Tara’s calls, so Tara texts her. 

“Really sorry, Sam. I don’t know what came over me,” Tara reads from her phone, lip between her teeth, “I just wanted to protect you from her as I think she’s going to hurt you. I crossed the line and I know what I did was wrong. I’m hoping maybe tomorrow we can meet up and I can apologize in person.” 

She looks up at you, a little shy. 

“Is it okay?” She asks. 

You kiss her. 

“It’s perfect,” You assure, “Sam will appreciate it.”

Tara curls into your side, the moment she presses send. 

She’s a little calmer, after the call with Dr Colmann. Sam’s wardrobe hasn’t been touched, and you’d managed to sneak in and replace all the things Tara had ripped down. 

“I hate this,” Tara admits, nuzzling her head into your neck, “I hate feeling powerless.” 

You press a kiss to her forehead.

“Remember what Dr Colmann said,” You say, “You can’t control everything, babe.” 

“Can we watch Alien?” Tara asks, blinking up at you, “It always makes me feel better.”

You kiss her. 

“I will never understand how horror movies calm you down,” You say, with a sigh, “But of course we can.” 

-

Sam doesn’t text back until the morning. 

“Thanks for apologizing, Tara,” Tara reads out, eyebrows crinkled, “I need some time. I’ll be back next week and we can talk.” 

Tara frowns, dropping her phone. 

“It’s not all bad, babe,” You soothe, reaching out to wrap an arm around her, “Dr Colmann said she’d need space.” 

“Yeah,” Tara says, resigned. 

Then, she flops back into the couch. 

“Sam thinks I don’t love her,” She says, after a long moment, “Because I never say it.” 

You tilt your head. 

“Babe.” You say, dropping down to her side. You brush a strand of hair out of her face, 

“I do love her,” Says Tara, sounding unhappy, “But she doesn’t love me. Not the real me.” 

Her eyes are sad, vulnerable. 

You kiss her, deeply. 

“It’s difficult,” You say, choosing your words carefully, “But Sam loves you. For better or for worse. You’re her baby sister.” 

“She left before,” Tara accuses, “She’d do it again. I just know it.” 

“Hey,” You say, pressing your lips to her cheek, “That’s behind you now, remember? We’re in therapy.” 

It doesn’t placate her. 

“How can you love somebody you don’t even know?” She asks, a little mournful. 

“I loved you before I knew,” You say, nudging your nose against hers, “And I love you after. Always.” 

“That’s different,” Says Tara, biting her lip, “You’re in love with me. You’re the exception. Do you really think Chad or Mindy or Liv or Sam would stay around if they knew the truth?” 

“They’ll never know,” You promise, “Baby, I know it’s hard, but you can’t live your life being scared of rejection. Sam loves you. Your friends love you. You’re a different person than you were before. You’re a good friend. And you’ve been holding back from Sam, but I know you’ll be a good sister too. The best sister. Just like you’re the best girlfriend.” 

You kiss her once more. 

“You just have to let yourself be vulnerable,” You say, “Let Sam know you love her. And the rest will fall in place.” 

-

Quinn’s apartment is beautiful. 

High ceilings, expensive artwork, luxury furniture. 

It makes Sam’s head spin. 

“You can be louder, if you want,” Quinn says, biting her lip, only moments after Sam had cum hard with her hand against her mouth, “This place is sound-proofed. Dad made sure when he bought it.” 

“Why did you ever live in that dump with my sister?” Sam wonders, sprawled out across Quinn’s pillows, “This place is great.” 

Quinn laughs, and curls herself into Sam’s side. 

“I was trying to be independent,” She admits, “I was trying not to live off my Dad’s money.” 

Sam tilts her head. 

“Did your Dad invent the toaster or something?” She wonders aloud.

Quinn presses a sly kiss to her lips.

“He’s done well for himself,” She admits, “He’s a detective. A very senior Detective.” 

“And here I was thinking government employees lived paycheck to paycheck.” Sam mumbles. 

“Most do,” Quinn admits, “But like I said - he’s done well for himself.” 

“Do you see him much?” Sam asks. 

Quinn pauses. 

“Not really,” She says, “My brother - he’s the problem child. Dad spends most of his time wrapped up with Ethan.”

“Little brother?” Sam asks, head tilted. Quinn nods. 

“The youngest… they’re always the problem kids.” Sam says, knowing from experience. 

“I know you can’t choose your family,” Says Quinn, “But man, don’t you sometimes wish you could?” 

Sam thinks. 

“I would still choose Tara,” She says, voice a little soft, “She’s a brat, yeah. But it’s only because my parents never taught her how to behave. They failed her. Heck, they failed me too.” 

Quinn smiles.

“That’s sweet,” She says, “I love how you love her. Even after what she tried to do.”

Sam shifts, suddenly uncomfortable. 

“She was just looking out for me,” Sam says, “In her own way. In her Tara way.” 

“She doesn’t need to,” Quinn promises. She leans over and kisses Sam, “I’m crazy about you. You know that.” 

Butterflies bloom in Sam’s stomach. 

“I know it’s only been a couple of weeks,” Quinn says, nudging her nose against Sam’s, “But I’m falling for you. Hard.” 

Sam blinks. 

And the butterflies evaporate. 

Uneasiness replaces them. 

“Quinn,” She says, slowly, “Like you said, it’s only been a couple of weeks-” 

“I know,” Quinn says, rubbing a hand over her hip, “Sorry, I don’t love you or anything. Not yet. I just wanted you to know I’m falling.” 

“Alright,” Sam says, voice even, “I just- it’s not-”

“Stop freaking out,” Quinn says, and kisses her softly, “I only wanted to say I like you. Don’t think so hard, Carpenter.” 

Sam relaxes. 

“I like you, too.” She says. 

And Quinn kisses her. 

-

Sam stays at Quinn’s place longer than a week. 

It’s two weeks at first, then three. 

Quinn’s kisses are ample reason to stay. Tara’s texts, each a little more desperate than the other, remind Sam of why she can’t go back. 

She loves her sister. 

But Sam’s been suffocating her. 

Dinners, breakfasts. She does Tara’s laundry and cleans up after her. Makes her bed. Helps her with homework. 

She’s been trying to replace their mother. 

Sam loves her sister, but a mother she is not. 

Sisters need boundaries. Sam needs boundaries. 

And so she calls Tara to explain. 

“We can talk,” Sam promises over the phone, “Tonight, if you want. I’ll come to the apartment. But Tara, you should know I’m planning on staying with Quinn. It’s better for both of us if I stay with Quinn.” 

“I miss you, Sam,” Tara says, voice unhappy, “I promise I’ll be nicer. I’ve been talking to a therapist, she’s helping me. YN and I won’t even fuck when you’re home - if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sam bites her lip. 

“That’s - sweet Tara,” Says Sam, “But that isn’t the problem. Not the whole problem. We’re adults now, both of us. Sisters aren’t designed to live together, forever.” 

“Not forever,” Presses Tara, “But for right now? We should be together.” 

Sam sighs. 

Quinn’s pouring her a glass of wine, wearing a particularly low-cut top. 

Sam’s gaze veers down. 

“I’ll speak to you, tonight,” Sam promises, mouth dry, “Love you, T.” 

Tara hesitates. 

“Speak to you, tonight.” She echoes, voice hollow.

-

“Ugh, why do you have to go and speak to your sister?” Quinn murmurs, a little later, when Sam is a sweaty mess under her. 

“Because she’s my sister.” Sam reminds, a little pointed, as she leans up to kiss Quinn.

“She tried to seduce me.” Quinn says, a little sharp, “I think the silent treatment is more than effective, here.” 

“You tried to seduce her first.” Says Sam, retracting herself from Quinn’s grip, “Relax, Quinn. It’s time I patched things up with her.” 

“You’re coming back after, right?” Quinn asks,  little on edge, “You’re not moving back in? Because you can stay here as long as you want.” 

Sam kisses her. 

“I’ll be back,” She promises, “But I need to borrow a jacket. I left mine back at the house.” 

Quinn’s grip is tight. For a moment, Sam wonders if Quinn will let her leave at all. But then she releases her grip on Sam’s waist. 

“Closet,” She says, with a murmur, “You know, you wearing my clothes is kind of hot.” 

Sam kisses her once more. 

Sam rifles through Quinn’s closet, a little mindless. It’s expansive. From denim to leather, seemingly Quinn has it all. Sam works through them all. She settles on a bare-bones black leather jacket that’ll go with her jeans. She pries it off the rack and slips it around her shoulders.

But then, she notices something buried near the bottom of her wardrobe. 

Her brow creases. 

It’s a picture. 

Quinn she recognises - an older man that must be her Dad. A younger guy that must be her brother, Ethan. 

And then she sees him. 

To say the wind is knocked out of her is an understatement. 

She recognises him immediately. Curly brown hair. Piercing blue eyes she stared into hundreds of times. 

Eyes she’d seen flutter closed for the last time. 

It’s Richie. 

Quinn knows Richie. 

Sam panics. 

She stumbles back, takes out Quinn’s mirror in her wake. Her chest heaves. Her eyes prick with tears. 

Out, her mind screams, you need to get out.

But Quinn’s all over her before she gets the chance. 

Sam flinches as Quinn’s arms loop around her waist. She reacts immediately. 

She pries herself out of Quinn’s arms and turns around as if she’s just been burned. 

“Sam?” Quinn asks, looking startled, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” 

Sam’s eyes are wide. 

Quinn’s eyes flicker down to the bottom of the wardrobe. To Richie. 

Her eyes widen, almost mournful. 

“Oh, Sam,” She says, softy, “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.” 

It happens in a flash. 

One moment Sam is backing up, against the wall. The next, Quinn’s pressing her to it, hand over her mouth. 

“Shh, baby,” Quinn says, as Sam screams, “It’s okay. I can explain everything. But you need to stop screaming. Nobody can hear you now.”

[onwednesdayswewrite]

this hell is better with you {tara carpenter}

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader  

Warnings: canon typical violence for scream, talk of murder, blood, smoking weed, cursing, misuse of prescription drugs, dark themes. CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SCREAM 6

Word Count: 3.5k

hey y’all, I had a ton of fun writing this, and have a few more ideas in this little universe so let me know if you would be interested in seeing more!

chapter 2: you, tara carpenter, have stolen my heart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the fall of your senior year at Blackmore University when you first realized you loved Tara Carpenter. Your heated debates over Geoffrey Chaucer and Jane Austen had drawn you closer to her. Being the overachiever she was, Tara was taking English Lit as a freshman; while you barely scraped by to get a passing grade. Though your time together was usually cut short, you couldn’t miss the way even the overly bright fluorescent lecture hall lights made her eyes sparkle. Or the way the memory of summer days danced across her cheeks in the form of freckles. Or the way that little scar by her eye crinkled whenever she smiled. 

 Of course you knew of the Woodsboro native’s past, everyone did. It didn’t terrify you like it did most, it only excited you. 

Your encounters had been limited to a few study sessions and passing each other on campus. You wanted more, but her friend group always lingered. Mindy was sweet, a bit of a geek but you found it appealing. And Mindy’s girlfriend, Anika was nice too but you didn't know her well. And Quinn, you liked Quinn. Of course then there was Chad. You didn’t like Chad one bit. Chad rubbed you the wrong way. He always walked around acting like he owned everything. Including Tara.

And Sam? Well Sam was a whole different monster entirely. 

The day started like most did these days. A double at the hospital meant the twelve block trek back to your off-campus apartment would be hell. The caffeine pumping through your veins did little to ease the exhaustion. It was a Sunday which meant you only had a few hours of peace before you had to begin studying for morning classes. You wanted nothing more than to fill those hours with sleep but the constant honking of horns and the wailing of sirens made it seem unlikely. It was days like this where you wished New York City wasn’t the city that never slept, even if it was the middle of the day. 

As the hustle began to ease closer to your apartment, the sounds of sirens continued to fill the air. You didn’t live in the best part of town, but this was unusual. Your phone buzzed in the leg of your scrub pocket. It was a notification from the News app that came pre-installed on your phone. The heading read ‘police release names of Blackmore students murdered to be that of Anika Kayoko and Quinn Bailey’. You felt lighter now, that takes care of two of Tara's friends. Poor Mindy though, she seemed to really like Anika. Your bitten-down fingertips hit the notification, and scanned the article. ‘Kayoko and Bailey were in Bailey's midtown apartment when the attacks took place.’

Your blood ran cold and you felt your heart plummet to your feet, Quinn was Tara’s roommate. Was Tara okay? Your mind ran through every possibility, before you took a moment to settle. Think rationally, y/n. You had been floated to the surgical floor, if anything too bad had happened, you would have known.  

It was when you were about half a block from your apartment and the sirens only got louder and louder you grew concerned. You didn’t live that close to the Carpenter’s and there shouldn’t still be police activity.

When you turned the ally onto your street you knew something was very wrong. The entire block filled with every first responder in the area. New York’s finest. The fire department. Paramedics and emergency medical technicians. The coroner. 

‘They found you y/n. I told you that you should have hidden the body better’ the bottle of pills shook in the pocket of your thrift store jacket. Maybe an extra one wouldn’t hurt, they would kick you from the nursing program if they knew about the voices. The bottle rolled between your fingers when you pulled it from your pocket. Only 13 pills left, you couldn’t risk what would happen if you ran out. You slid the bottle back into the pocket and zipped it shut. 

You quickly realized things were not as they seemed when you spotted none other than Samantha Carpenter amongst the crowd. Her body was covered in blood. It didn’t seem to be her blood, but where the hell was Tara? You knew Sam never let her far from sight, so Tara had been with her? Sam didn’t seem overly upset given the situation. 

Your worries dissipated into the air when Tara hopped down from the back of an ambulance. Your heart settled in your chest. She was walking, talking with Sam and another blonde woman and seemed fairly unharmed. And she looked even more beautiful now than you swore she had before. The way the red and blue lights of the ambulance reflected against her chocolate eyes. And being soaked in blood that wasn’t her own was a good look. Though her arm was in a sling, the white fabric tightened around her neck. A rather shitty job, you could have done better yourself. 

You observed them as they spoke for a few moments. They were just a little too far to hear the conversation, but you certainly saw when Tara’s face crumbled. Oh. Oh. She was crying now, tears driving her mascara stains farther down her cheeks. You had never seen her cry before, and the deep pit forming in your stomach told you that you would never let it happen again. Now if you could only get your hands on whoever did this you would rip-

“Hey, we got another one here” a grimace of pain flashed across her face from the movement, but it didn’t stop Tara from rushing to greet the second paramedic squad rolling a gurney from within the theater. 

“Chad, Chad” Tara’s voice cracked when she called out to him, nothing but joy laced in her words. 

“How are you alive?” Sam joined Tara at the side of the stretcher. A stupid boyish smile found its way to Chad’s face under the oxygen mask as he held up four shaky, bloodied fingers. 

“Core fucking four” Tara let out a watery giggle, and a smile followed. A wide smile. One that made dimples crinkle up the skin on her blood stained cheeks. Normally it would have settled the fire in your stomach, but not this time. Not when Chad was the reason for it. Not when Tara was clinging to him, tightly gripping his arm, scared that he would leave her.  

‘They should have just let him die, he’s too close to Tara’ the voice echoed through your head. The pill bottle felt heavy in your pocket now. You untightened the safety cap and dry swallowed the pill. 12 pills would have to be enough. You would make it be enough.

“Oh my god are you guys okay?” Mindy stubbled past the line of police officers. An IV port in the back of her hand, and a hospital bracelet hanging from her wrist. She practically crashed into the group. Tara’s hands only leaving Chad’s arm to steady Mindy’s gait. 

“Ma’am this is an active crime scene, you can’t be here” the officer was much larger than you, and it was no use fighting against him as he backed you down the street, pushing you farther from Tara. 

You took one final glance back at Tara as she clung to her sister’s side, both watching as they loaded Chad into the second ambulance. With a deep breath, you turned your shoulders and headed down the street. I’ll be back for you, Tara Carpenter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I recovered, I got mad. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of monsters. I wanted the monsters to be afraid of me. Kirby’s words echoed through Tara’s head as she entered Sam’s mandatory trauma group therapy. Tara was tired of it. Tired of always being afraid and running. Tired of being small and tired of being stabbed. Tired of being on the shit end of kill or be killed. Ever since the moment Tara drove that knife into Ethan, something changed in her. It came as a gnawing, aching feeling, a deep desire to feel the warm blood pump over her hands again. 

The therapy did little to ease the continued obsessive thoughts. Sam’s new therapist freaked her out and she hated the sterile environment of private therapy so Sam suggested group therapy. 

Tara felt sick to her stomach as she listened to the others talk about their feelings. She reached for her now lukewarm Starbucks coffee, but it did little to push the bile back down her throat. How could they feel this way when she felt so different? 

“Tara, do you have anything you would like to share?” Every pair of eyes in the room shot to Tara when the older lady running the session spoke to her. Curious eyes, just waiting to hear her sob story. All judging her as if they didn’t have their own fucked up shit going on. 

“Hi…I’m Tara, and about 3 weeks ago my friends and I were attacked and I…” Tara voiced trailed off. She hated the way they all looked at her now. The pity laced in their eyes. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t deserve it. 

“I just keep...I keep having these, um…these thoughts in my head, and I don’t…” Tara’s voice shook as she spoke. What the hell was she even supposed to say? The truth would no doubtably get her locked up. 

“Now die a Fucking virgin” it felt good under Tara’s hands as Ethan choked on his own blood. His chest heaved as he tried to get oxygen past the blood rapidly filling his throat and lungs. Fear floated into his eyes as he realized he was dying, and it was so so sweet. Tara twisted the knife a little more. He gargled for air one last time. Tara let him fall at her feet. Fuck Ethan. And fuck his whole family for what they had done to her. 

“I don’t know if I can control them...and I’m just...afraid of what’s gonna happen” Don’t say it Tara. Don’t say you’ve been longing to take another life since that moment. Don’t tell them it's the only thing you can think about, day and night. Make something up Tara, think fast. Her eyes rapidly scanned the room looking for an answer. All eyes were still on her, wide and scared, just waiting for her to lose it. Her chest felt heavy, how was she going to get out of this one?

Until her eyes found yours across the room. And for once someone was finally looking at her like she wasn’t crazy. Like they weren’t going to lock her up and force pills down her throat. Like someone who finally understood her. Her heart was racing now. It was all too much. 

“I’m sorry, I need a second.” Tara pushed herself up from the chair and darted for the door without a second thought. 

The stale air of the meeting hall had been suffocating her, and now with the cool evening air rushing into her lungs, she felt like she could breathe again. She took another deep breath and settled down against the brick wall of the building. It felt nice on her spine after half an hour of sitting in those cheap plastic chairs. Tara checked her phone again, had it really only been 30 minutes? 

“Want a hit?” Tara almost didn’t notice you settle down next to her, offering a small vape in her direction. “Or may I offer a stale doughnut and coffee that tastes like it was brewed with sewer water?” You offered up your other hand which contained a white paper coffee cup with a black lid with a chocolate sprinkle doughnut balanced on top.

Tara took your offering of the doughnut, maybe the sugar would stop her hands from shaking so much. She picked a few sprinkles from the icing before tearing off a chunk of the doughnut. She was right, the chocolate did settle her nerves a little. 

“What are you doing here, y/n? Therapy I mean” Tara ripped off another piece of the doughnut, and then set the rest down on her thigh. 

“That’s a bit of a personal question, don’t you think?” Your eyes followed a fallen leaf as it tumbled through the parking lot. Tara knew it wasn’t that interesting, you were just avoiding making eye contact. 

“We almost kissed, I think I’m allowed to ask you personal questions” Tara chuckled out, the autumn breeze cooling the fire blooming on her cheeks. 

“And that shows the complex relationship between- y/n, are you even listening to me?” Tara paused her rant about Paradise Lost when she noticed your eyes had been focusing on her and not the book in front of you. You clearly hadn’t been paying attention, you didn’t even notice her lift her head up to look at you. Tara grabbed a paper clip from the nearby stack of papers, and tossed it in your direction. It hit you square in the side of the nose and you jumped. Caught red handed. 

“What? Yeah of course I am” your eyes shot down to the book beneath your fingertips, clearly trying to figure out what the hell she had been going on about. 

“Focus, our midterm is next week” Tara tapped her pastel blue pen down on the paragraph she had been talking about.  “And stop staring, it’s creepy” Tara didn’t really think it was creepy, but she knew if she let you look at her for too much longer then you might notice the pink tint that was finding its way to her cheeks from you being so close. 

“I’m not a creep! I just think you have a pretty voice” you pretended to act shocked, but you knew Tara didn’t take any of your shit. Not when it came to classes. Not with your graduation looming in the distance. Tara wasn’t sure what your plans were after college, but she hoped you were planning on staying close. Would you stay working at the same hospital? 

“That’s something a creep would say” Tara teased, rolling onto her stomach to copy you. She didn’t want to think about you graduating, and leaving just yet. It made her feel like lightning struck her heart. She didn’t like that feeling. “This is important, can we please focus?” As much as Tara wanted you to stay, she didn’t like the idea of you failing being the only reason for staying. 

“I’m already focusing on something important to me” Tara looked up to see you already looking at her. Your hand pushed back a piece of hair that had fallen out of her messy bun. Fuck. Tara felt butterflies erupt in her stomach. Their soft wings tickled the sides, spreading the warmth they left through her body. Tara watched as your eyes shifted down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. Please kiss me. Tara felt the heat between the two of you, something seemingly pulling you closer and closer. 

Your copy of Paradise Lost disregarded somewhere on the bed between the two of you, and for once Tara didn’t care. All she could think about was why the hell you couldn’t put on your big kid pants for once in your life and kiss her. Did she really have to do all the work? Just when she thought she was gonna explode, you leaned forward on your elbows. Your breath tickled her nose. Please just kiss me, you idiot. 

“Tara” Quinn shoved open the door to Tara’s room without a care. You quickly jumped away from each other, the notebooks in front of you suddenly becoming very interesting. That's it, Tara had decided you really were an idiot. She wasn’t even sure she could save you anymore. 

“Did I cockblock you?” it didn’t take a fool to read the situation, and Quinn certainly wasn’t a fool. Definitely not when it came to this. 

“What did you just say?” Tara squeezed her eyes shut. This is not happening right now. 

“Cockblocked you, I cockblocked you, didn’t I?” Quinn waved her finger between the two of you. 

“Immediate no” Tara jumped up from her spot on the bed, shaking her head. Quinn had just ruined this for her, and now she was only making it worse. 

“Please stop saying the word cock” your voice was muffled from where you had your face pressed into your notebook. Tara wondered if your cheeks looked as red as hers felt. 

“What’d…what’d you need?” Tara’s voice stuttered. 

“Sam just texted me asking if I needed anything, so she's on her way home” Quinn waved her phone at them as evidence. Tara hated it. She wasn’t ready to handle Sam just yet. You sent her a sad smile; you knew that meant your night was over. Tara took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. She really hated it. 

“Don’t ever enter a room like that again” Tara let out a sigh of frustration and sat back down on the bed. 

“I won’t” Quinn nodded her head, feeling just as awkward now. 

“Nice to see you, Quinn” you waved her direction and she offered an apologetic smile, turning and leaving the room. “But I'm gonna get out of here before your sister kills me” You smiled down at Tara. Tara could feel her cheeks burn even hotter now as you packed up your books. 

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Carpenter” you sent a wink in her direction before slipping out the window and down the fire escape. Tara let herself fall back on the bed. Fuck. The butterflies in her stomach felt bigger now, like a bird had taken over and was starting to flap its wings. 

“I changed my mind, give me that” Tara snatched the vape from your hand, and began to take a hit. The fire had begun to light up in her chest just from being close to you again. And she definitely wouldn’t have the courage to follow through with her plan if she was sober. 

“It’s weed Tara, don’t green out on me” you tried to pull the vape from her lips, but she swatted you away. It burned her throat, and her lungs felt heavy. 

“I know what I’m doing, I’m not some amateur” Tara took another long hit from it just to prove her point. When she exhaled she instantly felt the tickle in her throat. She felt her face start to turn red as she resisted the urge to cough. She wouldn’t let you think you were even a little right. 

“Not an amateur?” Your eyebrow cocked up, and a smirk played on your lips. After a few more seconds of watching her struggle, you offered her the cheap therapy coffee. And Tara took it gratefully, anything to soothe her throat. 

The second the coffee hit her tongue she knew it was a mistake. You had been right about one thing; that coffee HAD been made with sewer water. Tara felt humiliated as she sat coughing and spitting up trash coffee as the people of New York City passed by. Judging her. As if they even had a clue what she had been through. 

“Easy sweetheart, they haven’t given me my nursing license yet” your hand felt warm on her back, rubbing soothing circles. And even when the coughing settled and she sat back upright, you didn’t stop. You pulled her closer even. Tara didn’t mind though, she honestly hoped you wouldn’t ever stop. 

You were so close together now, the scent of coffee and weed still lingering on both of your breaths. Tara watched as you scanned her face for any sign of discomfort. Your face visibly settled when you found none. Tara wasn’t messed up by any means, but she definitely felt the high easing her nerves. She felt lighter now, like the weight of the world wasn't completely on her shoulders for once. And by the look on your face, she was sure you would take that weight if she had asked you to. 

Tara’s fingertips traced the scar above your eyebrow. It ran down the side of your face, and ended abruptly at your cheekbone. How had you gotten it? It didn’t look overly fresh, but was that why you had come to counseling? 

You abruptly grabbed her hand. Tara’s eyes flew to yours, and your skin warmed hers. The warmth burned hotter in her chest too. Tara liked having you this close. 

“I will not be held responsible for my actions if you don’t stop touching me” Your eyes were serious. 

Tara swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. She had been holding back from you long enough that even the idea of giving in made her hands shake. Tara held your gaze for a moment, contemplating her next move, then shifted onto her knees and pressed her lips against yours. 

“Good girl” you whispered when she finally pulled away. She shivered under you. 

“You like that, don’t you? You want everyone to think you're so sweet and innocent. And good.” your breath tickled her ear “but you like the darkness. You need it, crave it. And I'm going to give it to you, Tara Carpenter”. 

And you were right. Tara needed it. She craved it. She craved you. 

chapter 2: you, tara carpenter, have stolen my heart

[certifiedwhore4slashers]

Chase

Part 1

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: yandere themes and behavior, obsession, possessiveness, toxicity, murder, blood, gore, etc…

SCREAM VI SPOILERS!! I’m warning you right now in case you haven’t seen the movie. Also should I write for him more?

taglist: @liyahsocorro @astarborntowrite

You somehow managed to run once more, However, this time, You were confident he was far behind you. You stepped in the elevator. You were definifely telling the others who Ghostface was. One of them, anyways.

You inhale, then exhale, You shouldn't worry. You got rid of him, right? Well, you went through this before. He was never fully gone. While you were on the elevator, You call Police about your boyfriend.

However, once you entered the lobby, you could hear footsteps, Not looking behind you, you exit the building. You were outside. People could witness you. Could help you.

Life or Death Scenario.

He promised he wouldn't hurt you, but who could really believe him? Not you. He murdered your boyfriend simply because he was your boyfriend.

Your best friend, betrayed you. You wondered if he had been playing a façade. Maybe, this was who he really is. Because why would he be Ghostface? He has to have a motive, right? Well, besides the fact he was in apparently obsessed with you. Hence why he never killed you.

You didn't even know where you were going, You knew where your apartment was. Suddenly, the footsteps grew closer. You gulp, before running further.

Behind you, He was there. For some reason, Never giving up. Even if you rejected him. You just needed to keep running. In hopes he would stop for now.

Sadly for you, He doesn't give up easily. You needed to find someone who could help, quick. Your friends, Maybe. But you left your phone. You would eventually tell them one of their close friends was really Ghostface, well one of them. You would figure out the others on your own.

"I like a chase."

You were doomed, weren't you? You were growing tired from running. You'd have to eventually stop. Which You though you were safe, stopping so you could gain your energy back. Dumb Move of you to do.

You feel yourself being pulled into someone's chest, feeling the clothing, You knew who it was. He wrapped his arms around your waist strongly, in order to prevent you from leaving.

He must've taken his mask off, because he said, "You can't tell anybody, Y/N. If you do, You'll regret it." He held his knife on your throat, not so he could hurt you, but so he could scare you. You knew he could feel how scared you were.

You whimper. "I won't, I promise." "Good, He replied."I meant my word on not hurting you, Y/n." Ethan still held you tightly, so you really couldn't go anywhere.

"I... You begin. "I don't believe you." He smirks. "You don't? What a shame. Why would I ever hurt you, y/n? I love you." "You killed the guy I love! You yell. "You're mine, Y/N, Ethan said possessively.

You missed when he was sweet, Kind, who seemed happy you found someone who loved you. But he probably never liked your boyfriend to begin with.

"this isn't love! you argued. "you're obsessed. big difference." When you heard sirens, you knew they arrived. they would find your boyfriend's body. You would be found. You would tell them. He sighed."I love you, You can go. For now." You blinked a few times but bolted when you could.

Stupidly, You went home. Of course you did. There, the Police were waiting. More specifically Detective Bailey, Father of Quinn. They asked you questions but you were proven innocent.

You wondered if they’d ever catch Ethan, the other ghostfaces too. You knew there were more. That’s when you decided on going to your friend’s. He didn’t live too far from you.

And it probably would be a dumb idea but you couldn’t be by yourself. You ring up your friend. You didn't want him to think You would be telling Tara, Chad, Sam, Mindy, or her girlfriend, Anika.

You only met Ethan through Chad, being roomies and everything. "Pick up, You murmur. You had been friends with Kyle since childhood. You could trust him. You smile when he picks up. "Y/N? Is everything okay? Kyle said, concern in his voice.

"No... You said, kind of freaked out. "Could You come pick me up? I don't feel like being by myself tonight." "Of course, He replies. "On my way."

Kyle hung with your friends sometimes, who often teased how whipped he was for you, but during this, you had your boyfriend. But you didn't believe them. You knew Kyle your whole life, He moved from Woodsboro so you could keep your friends close.

You could see his car and quickly get in. "Y/n, What happened? Kyle asked. "Ghostface, You said. "Oh My god, I'm so sorry, Kyle replies, stopping for a second so he could hug you.

"Thanks for letting me stay over, You smile, entering his apartment, when it began raining. "Of course, feel free to stay as long as you'd like, Kyle smiles, closing his door. You nodded.

Rain came down quick. You were lucky you didn't stay outside longer. “I’ll make you something to eat, Kyle said, going in the kitchen. “Okay, You smile, sitting on the couch.

You hear your phone ring, You see who is calling you, Instead of being dumb, You ignore. You knew someone would be hurt if you continue answering unknown numbers.

Until the number began messaging you.

What a shame your friend will have to go.

Your eyes widen, hearing Kyle hum while cooking. Unsure of your choices, You respond.

No, Please. Don't hurt him. I'll do anything.

Too late. Like I said, You're mine. Nobody else's. Including your friend, who obviously loves you.

You were more angry knowing he knew Kyle and his name, Yet chose to call him your friend. "Kyle! You exclaimed. "Hm? He said, coming in with your food.

"Ghostface is coming for you! You warn him, your eyes widen when you see not one but two killers. He turns around, before being stabbed, He fell. You help him up. "You okay?" "Mhm, Kyle groaned."I could run still. I've only been stabbed once."

One of fhe Ghostfaces lunged forward, Making sure Kyle didn’t get away. “No! You yell, trying to get the killer off of him as he stabbed him. Blood on the mask and knife. You managed to somehow pull Ghostface off.

“Kyle! Run! Or try to! You yell. “I can’t leave you! He says. “I’ll meet you outside. I can handle them.” He nods. But not for himself but for you. Kyle trusts you and he’s the most selfless person you’ve ever met.

“Call 911! You added. He nods leaving with his phone. You encounter Ethan again as he takes off his mask. “You shouldn’t have done that, He says, his voice darker and different somehow.

“Who’s your friend? You say, boldly. Ethan smirks.”My father.” You were puzzled but more so shocked when you saw Detective Bailey.

“What? He’s your father? And Detective Bailey? You say. "Why?” “We have to finish the movie that he was making, Detective Bailey smirks. “Huh? You say still confused.

“Richie was my brother, Y/n, Ethan said. "And then you just had to make me fall in love with you.” “I didn’t do anything, You say. "Now let me go. I promised Kyle-“

“Shut up about him, Ethan said.”But that was really stupid of you to leave him outside.” “What! Is there more of you? You say. You rush over and see another Ghostface continuously stabbing Kyle over and over who was now dead and you could see his insides.

You didn’t know if it was that graphic scene or everything around you ringing because your vision cut to black.